A Novelist's Plan for Today

Today has started well. I woke at 6 a.m., and drank a glass of water, for which my kidneys will thank me, before going outside and turning on the sprinkler to water the fruit trees. I then put all my white clothes in the washing machine and turned it on. Next I wrote 600 words of Tuesday's Child my new traditional Regency Romance, by then the washing was ready to come out of the machine, so I took it out. I nipped out into the garden and moved the sprinkler so that my curly kale, black kale, chard, brussel sprouts, lettuce etc., would be get plenty of water. Back indoors put the coloureds in the washing machine and turned it on, gave my  kidneys a treat with another glass of water and then returned to my laptop.

I'm looking forward to the rest of the day. When I finish dealing with 'writerly' matters I shall work in the garden and make a salad with home grown ingredients, one of which will be Russian salad made with potato, carrot and French beans from the garden. In the afternoon I'll read and then write etc. 

This evening I will attend the writing group that I belong to.

I propose and hope God will not dispose of my plans.

Review of Tangled Love:Early18thc Historical Fiction

 

Tangled Love by Rosemary Morris was short listed for the best romantic e-book at The Festival of Romance, Bedford U.K

 

 

5* review of Rosemary Morris’s Tangled Love on Amazon by J. Pittam.

I very much enjoyed this new author. Tangled Love is set at the turn of the 18th century it follows the fortunes of Richelda, poverty-stricken daughter of a now-dead Jacobite. Richelda is haunted by the childhood oath she made at her father's instigation, to regain their ancestral home. She knows she has little chance of fulfilling that dream - until her wealthy aunt promises to make Richelda her heiress. But there is a condition; she must marry the man of her aunt's choosing- Viscount Lord Chesney. Richelda's feelings for Chesney are ambivalent and her heart already belongs to her penniless childhood companion, Dudley.

Love and betrayal, misplaced loyalties, even the promise of a treasure trove make this a charming story with a well-rounded, believable heroine and a delicious hero. Rosemary Morris's attention to historical detail brings period and place vividly to life. More please.

 

Tangled Love is available from: MuseItUp Publishing, Amazon Kindle, Nook, Omlit, Bookstrand Mainstream, Kobo and elsewhere.

 

To view the book trailer, read the first three chapters and reviews please visit. www.rosemarymorris.co.uk

 

 

 

6th & final extract from Tangled Love:Early 18thc. Historical Fiction

Tangled Love by Rosemary Morris was short listed for the best romantic e-book at The Festival of Romance, Bedford U.K in 2013

 

Richelda has gone from riches to rags after the death of her parents. She has inherited Bellemont House in which she lives alone with her mother’s childhood nurse. Her aunt suggested Viscount Chesney should marry him. He has come to meet her.

 

 

Extract from Chapter Three

 

Hertfordshire - England

 

 

‘Elsie,” Richelda said to her late mother’s childhood nurse,” I am tired of struggling. I shall sell the estate to Jack, except for a snug cottage and a few acres of land for my own use.’

 ‘Sell Bellemont to His Grace!’ Elsie twined her work-roughened fingers together. ‘Lord above, my wits have gone begging? I’ve forgotten to say a visitor awaits you.’

 Richelda wiped her face on her coarse apron. ‘Visitor?’ She forced herself to her feet.

‘Yes, a fine gentleman, Viscount Chesney by name, is waiting for you in the parlour.’

Heavens above, he must be the man whose identity she mistook earlier on for Lord Greaves.

A long male shadow fell across the dark oak floor before the parlour door closed. She caught her breath. Either Elsie left the door ajar by mistake or her uninvited guest had opened it and eavesdropped.

After washing and changing, Richelda went down the broad flight of oak stairs.  Looking at Elsie, she raised her eyebrows.

Elsie nodded her approval and pointed at the parlour door. ‘He’s still in there. I’ll fetch some elderflower wine.’

‘No, come with me -’ she began, but Elsie, with speed surprising in one of her size, bustled into a passage that led to the kitchen.

He will not recognize me, Richelda reassured herself.  She mimicked her late mother’s graceful walk, entered the room and coughed to attract attention.

Viscount Chesney turned away from the window. He gazed at her intently. ‘Lady Richelda?’

She curtsied wishing she also wore exquisitely cut black velvet and silk instead of a threadbare gown fashioned from one of her mother’s old ones. He bowed and extended a perfectly manicured hand.

Ashamed of her rough hands, she permitted him to draw her to her feet. ‘You have the advantage of knowing my name.’ She looked into grey eyes reminiscent of still water on an overcast day.

‘Lord Chesney at your service, my lady.’

‘I am honoured to make your acquaintance, my lord. Please take a seat.’

He laughed. ‘Lady Richelda, although I did not introduce myself to you earlier, I hoped you would say you are pleased to renew your acquaintance with me.’

She tilted her chin. ‘You mistake me for someone else.’

‘I do not. Your eyes and voice are unforgettable.’

‘What can you mean?’

‘Why are you pretending to misunderstand me,’ he drawled. ‘Shall we sit?  No, do not look at me so distrustfully. I did not seize the opportunity to manhandle you earlier today. Word of a gentleman there is no need to fear me either now or in future.’

Somewhat nervous in spite of his assurance, she sat opposite him. While she regained her composure, she put her feet side by side on a footstool.

‘If you confess, I will not tell your aunt.’

‘My aunt?’ 

‘Yes, she wishes me to make your acquaintance.’

Her mother’s family shunned her. They feared being tainted by her late father’s politics. The viscount must have referred to Father’s only close relative, his sister, Lady Ware. ‘Aunt Isobel?’ she queried, suspicious because she knew her mother, born into a family with puritanical inclinations, despised Aunt Isobel’s frivolity.

He nodded.

‘But my aunt -’

Burdened by a tray, Elsie entered the room. She put it down and served them with elderflower wine, before she withdrew.

Chesney eyed his glass of wine with obvious mistrust. ‘Why did you sigh, Lady Richelda?’

She refrained from explaining she longed to eat something other than her daily fare of boiled puddings, flavoured with herbs, mixed with vegetables and served with or without game birds or rabbits, which Elsie sometimes snared. 

Bowstring taut, Richelda drank some pale wine. She looked at the viscount, whose posture depicted a man at ease. ‘Please taste this wine, my lord, although you might not be accustomed to home brewed beverages, I think you will enjoy its taste.’

He sipped some. ‘An excellent tribute to Elsie’s skill. She made it did she not?’  She nodded before he spoke again. ‘Tell me, child, how long have you lived alone with Elsie?’

 ‘Since Mother died nearly a year ago.’ The pain of her mother’s death always made her mouth tremble when she spoke of her.

‘Why did you remain here?’ 

‘I hoped to improve my estate. Oh, I know everything has deteriorated, but if I could -’

He concluded her sentence. ‘Transport oak to the shipyards?’

She widened her eyes. ‘Thank you for your excellent advice, my lord, I daresay you noticed my valuable stands of oak when you approached Bellemont?’

Although he chuckled, his eyes remained serious. ‘Never forget I do not allow anyone to play me for a fool, not even a hoyden of an actress, worthy of note though you are.’

Outraged by being called a hoyden for the second time, that day she stood. ‘Please leave.’

Viscount Chesney rose to approach her. Muscles across the breadth of his shoulders rippled beneath his coat, a testament to his tailor’s skill. When he put a hand on either side of her waist, she trembled. His lordship was tall, taller than Dudley. Her head only reached his throat. When she looked up at Chesney his breath warmed her forehead. She trembled again.

 

Tangled Love is available from: MuseItUp Publishing, Amazon Kindle, Nook, Omlit, Bookstrand Mainstream, Kobo and elsewhere.

 

To view the book trailer, read the first three chapters and reviews please visit. www.rosemarymorris.co.uk

 

Tangled Love:Excerpt:18thc. Historical Fiction

Tangled Love by Rosemary Morris was short listed for the best romantic e-book at The Festival of Romance, Bedford U.K in 2013

 

 

Chapter Two

London - 1702

 

Chesney stepped from Lady Ware’s spacious house into King Street, and walked towards Whitehall. Although the proposal to marry Lady Richelda took him by surprise, he gave further thought to accepting it. Yet he would not wait for Lady Richelda to come to town where she would doubtless parade in the latest fashions, powder and patch. Where did she live?  He searched his memory. Ah, now he remembered. She lived at Bellemont which Lady Ware had mentioned lay close by his newly purchased property. Why not hazard a journey there and cast an eye over both domains?

His stride quickened to keep pace with his racing mind. Was the young lady tall or short, plain or pretty, blonde or brunette, meek or shrewish, illiterate or well educated?

Cocksure, Chesney took her acceptance of his proposal for granted. After all, why should she refuse a well-educated, not ill favoured viscount?

He knew it was time to settle down and have a family.  If she proved suitable he would wed her. He would welcome her inheritance. For his part, he would try not to give her cause for complaint by ensuring she lacked naught. They would refurbish Field House, improve the estate and purchase a town house.

His inner voice nagged him. What of love?

For most people of his rank, sentiment had little to do with marriage. In fact, some said no lady concerned herself with the vulgarity of love or passion. A wife’s happiness and satisfaction should be derived through ensuring her husband’s comfort, good works, plying her needle and raising children.

He sighed. A man in his position must marry if only to father heirs.

 ‘Look an Adonis? Who is he?’ A high-pitched female voice interrupted his thoughts.

Chesney looked round at a powdered and patched lady with rouged cheeks who stared at him.

‘I don’t know, I think he’s a newcomer to town,’ her companion, a younger lady said in an equally strident tone.

Unaffected by their comments he laughed. Since his youth women commented on his height and his perfect proportions. He did not consider himself vain, but unlike some members of his gentlemen’s club, who took little exercise and overate, he fenced, hunted, rode and walked to keep his body fit.

The older lady inclined her head, the younger one winked before they went about their business.

Chesney whistled low. What would Lady Richelda think of him? He contemplated his future with pleasure. With a smile, he thought of London’s coffeehouses, theatres, parks, concerts and pleasure gardens. Lady Richelda’s inheritance, added to his more modest one, would ensure they could command the elegancies of life.

When he reached his lodgings, he summoned Roberts. ‘Pack, we leave for Field House tomorrow. Send a message to the stables. I require my coach at eight in the morning. Is there anything to eat?’

Roberts shook his head.

‘Order some mutton pies from the tavern. Do you want me to die of hunger?  Hurry, man, what do you tarry for?’  He clapped his hands, his mind racing with thoughts of the future.

Roberts bowed low. He straightened, regarding him with his face creased in familiar lines of despair.

 ‘What?’ Chesney sighed. Why did he always feel dishevelled in his manservant’s presence?  Roberts was only six years his senior but Chesney could not remember a day when the man did not wear an immaculate black cloth suit, a neat black waistcoat and unwrinkled stockings.

‘Firstly, my lord, the sooner you purchase a London House and employ a cook the better it will be. Secondly, with all due respect, my lord, your appearance grieves me.’

Chesney looked contritely at his black, buckled shoes and his white silk stockings splashed with muck from London’s filthy streets. He knew Roberts aspired to take the credit for him always being dressed to perfection.  ‘Do not despair, you shall have the pleasure of dressing me in fine clothes on my wedding day,’ he teased.

 

Tangled Love is available from: MuseItUp Publishing, Amazon Kindle, Nook, Omlit, Bookstrand Mainstream, Kobo and elsewhere.

 To view the book trailer, read the first three chapters and reviews please visit. www.rosemarymorris.co.uk

 

 

Tangled Love:Extract:Early 18thc. Historical Fiction

Tangled Love by Rosemary Morris was short listed for the best romantic e-book at The Festival of Romance, Bedford U.K in 2013

Extract from Chapter One
London - 1702

Chesney rapped his cane on the front door of Lady Ware’s London mansion. Sister of his late father’s friend he did not know her well. He wondered why she had summoned him.
‘Lord Chesney?’ Bennet, Lady Ware’s middle-aged butler, queried his lined
face both respectful.
Chesney inclined his head.
‘This way, my lord. You are expected.’ Bennet led him up the stairs to a beautifully appointed parlour on the first floor where he announced him to Lady Ware.
Chesney raised his voice above the barks of six King Charles Cavalier spaniels. ‘Your servant, Lady Ware.’
Lady Ware waved a hand at her little dogs. ‘Be quiet.’ Her ladyship inclined her head to him. ‘My lord, I am pleased to see you?’
Full glass in his hand, Chesney sat.
‘My lord, I shall come straight to the point. I summoned you to propose your marriage to my niece, Richelda Shaw. In all honesty, I assure you it would be to your advantage.’
While she waited for his reply, the petite lady patted her silvery hair with one hand. With her other hand she fluttered her fan which she peeped over girlishly. 
‘You flatter me, Madam,’ he drawled.
Lady Ware’s dainty shrug released her cloying perfume of lavender mingled with roses and vanilla. She snapped her fan shut then tapped his arm with it. ‘You are mistaken. I do not flatter you. I offer you and my niece a solution. Your fathers followed King James to France. You are gossiped about.  People eye you as distrustfully as I think my niece will be eyed when I bring her to London.’
 ‘Are you not gossiped about, Lady Ware? After all, your late brother, the earl’s conversion to the Church of Rome must place you and your family under government scrutiny. For my part, I thank God my father remained true to The Anglican Church.’
Lady Ware shuddered. ‘Do not mention that matter to me, my lord. I vow I had no sympathy with my brother when he became a Papist. All I can do is thank God he was not tried as a traitor and his head is not displayed at the Tower of London.’
Chesney shifted his position, smothering a yawn behind his hand before he made a cautious reply. ‘I am neither a Jacobite nor a Papist.  I apologize for mentioning the matter of your brother’s conversion.’
‘Some more wine, Viscount?’ 
He shook his head, leaning back to deliberately present a picture of a man completely at his ease.
Lady Ware arched her eyebrows. She sipped her wine. ‘All London knows I am a wealthy woman.’ She blinked the sheen of tears from her eyes. ‘My lord, ’tis cruel not only to suffer widowhood thrice but to also lose my only child.’
Acknowledging her grief, he bowed his head. ‘My condolences, Madam.’
‘Thank you.’ She dabbed her eyes with a black handkerchief. ‘My poor daughter’s death is my niece’s gain. If Richelda is obedient, she will inherit all my property.’
Her ladyship rested her head against the back of her chair. She opened her fan and plied it restlessly while she scrutinized him.
‘What do you think of my proposal, my lord?’
Chesney sat straighter. She had not minced her words. He smiled with his usual forthrightness. ‘As yet I have neither put myself on the matrimonial market nor made my fortune and title available to any lady who wishes to marry me.’
‘I hear you purchased Field House.’ She tapped her fan on the arm of her chair.
‘Yes, I did,’ he replied in a neutral tone.
‘Well, sir, I shall speak bluntly. My niece’s lands are adjacent to yours.
Through marriage, you would double your estate by acquiring my niece’s mansion, Bellemont House and all the land around it. As for my niece, she would become mistress of Field House, my childhood home.
He inclined his head curious now as to what the old lady’s motive was. Ah, did she want him to marry her niece because she had a sentimental attachment to his estate?
Undeterred by his silence, Lady Ware continued. ‘I know your circumstances. Though you have no close relative, you are saddled with a clutch of distant relations who anticipate your help to advance in the world.’
Devil take it, she was correct. His family looked to him for patronage.  They expected him to marry well and produce an heir. Confound it, not one of them had regained their positions, lands or fortunes after the first King
Charles’s execution. Fortunately, his grandfather’s marriage to a French heiress saved he himself from poverty.
 
Her ladyship’s Roman nose twitched. Her thin lips curved in a predatory smile. ‘You will consider the match?’

Reluctant to say anything she might interpret as his agreement to marry Lady Richelda, he nodded. ‘I will do no more than consider it.’
‘Good, I shall not press you further.’ She hesitated with her fan mid-air, only to flutter it agitatedly. ‘I prefer you not to tell anyone my niece is my heiress. When she comes to town, I do not want a flock of fortune hunters to approach her.’
‘On my honour, I will not mention it to anyone. By the way, when will Lady Richelda arrive?’ 
‘This week.’
He stood. Each of the small dogs wagged their tails, stirred and yapped for attention round his ankles. Deep in thought he ignored them. Although no thought of imminent marriage had entered his head when he arrived, he might change his mind after meeting her ladyship’s niece. It was time he married and if she proved pleasant enough, maybe -.
Lady Ware clapped her hands. ‘My poppets like you and, believe me, my lord, they are good judges of character.’
Chesney restrained an incipient chuckle at his sudden notion of her ladyship’s dogs tricked out in wigs and gowns to judge him. ‘I am complimented by their approval, my lady.’ He bowed and kissed her bejewelled hand. ‘As for your niece, only providence knows if she and I are suited.’
With a rustle of silk mourning Lady Ware rose. ‘I believe you and Lady Richelda are well matched.’
Tangled Love is available from: MuseItUp Publishing, Amazon Kindle, Nook, Omlit, Bookstrand Mainstream, Kobo and elsewhere.
To view the book trailer, read the first three chapters and reviews please visit. www.rosemarymorris.co.uk

Tangled Love by Rosemary Morris was short listed for the best romantic e-book at The Festival of Romance, Bedford U.K in 2013

Extract from Chapter One
London - 1702

Chesney rapped his cane on the front door of Lady Ware’s London mansion. Sister of his late father’s friend he did not know her well. He wondered why she had summoned him.
‘Lord Chesney?’ Bennet, Lady Ware’s middle-aged butler, queried his lined
face both respectful.
Chesney inclined his head.
‘This way, my lord. You are expected.’ Bennet led him up the stairs to a beautifully appointed parlour on the first floor where he announced him to Lady Ware.
Chesney raised his voice above the barks of six King Charles Cavalier spaniels. ‘Your servant, Lady Ware.’
Lady Ware waved a hand at her little dogs. ‘Be quiet.’ Her ladyship inclined her head to him. ‘My lord, I am pleased to see you?’
Full glass in his hand, Chesney sat.
‘My lord, I shall come straight to the point. I summoned you to propose your marriage to my niece, Richelda Shaw. In all honesty, I assure you it would be to your advantage.’
While she waited for his reply, the petite lady patted her silvery hair with one hand. With her other hand she fluttered her fan which she peeped over girlishly. 
‘You flatter me, Madam,’ he drawled.
Lady Ware’s dainty shrug released her cloying perfume of lavender mingled with roses and vanilla. She snapped her fan shut then tapped his arm with it. ‘You are mistaken. I do not flatter you. I offer you and my niece a solution. Your fathers followed King James to France. You are gossiped about.  People eye you as distrustfully as I think my niece will be eyed when I bring her to London.’
 ‘Are you not gossiped about, Lady Ware? After all, your late brother, the earl’s conversion to the Church of Rome must place you and your family under government scrutiny. For my part, I thank God my father remained true to The Anglican Church.’
Lady Ware shuddered. ‘Do not mention that matter to me, my lord. I vow I had no sympathy with my brother when he became a Papist. All I can do is thank God he was not tried as a traitor and his head is not displayed at the Tower of London.’
Chesney shifted his position, smothering a yawn behind his hand before he made a cautious reply. ‘I am neither a Jacobite nor a Papist.  I apologize for mentioning the matter of your brother’s conversion.’
‘Some more wine, Viscount?’ 
He shook his head, leaning back to deliberately present a picture of a man completely at his ease.
Lady Ware arched her eyebrows. She sipped her wine. ‘All London knows I am a wealthy woman.’ She blinked the sheen of tears from her eyes. ‘My lord, ’tis cruel not only to suffer widowhood thrice but to also lose my only child.’
Acknowledging her grief, he bowed his head. ‘My condolences, Madam.’
‘Thank you.’ She dabbed her eyes with a black handkerchief. ‘My poor daughter’s death is my niece’s gain. If Richelda is obedient, she will inherit all my property.’
Her ladyship rested her head against the back of her chair. She opened her fan and plied it restlessly while she scrutinized him.
‘What do you think of my proposal, my lord?’
Chesney sat straighter. She had not minced her words. He smiled with his usual forthrightness. ‘As yet I have neither put myself on the matrimonial market nor made my fortune and title available to any lady who wishes to marry me.’
‘I hear you purchased Field House.’ She tapped her fan on the arm of her chair.
‘Yes, I did,’ he replied in a neutral tone.
‘Well, sir, I shall speak bluntly. My niece’s lands are adjacent to yours.
Through marriage, you would double your estate by acquiring my niece’s mansion, Bellemont House and all the land around it. As for my niece, she would become mistress of Field House, my childhood home.
He inclined his head curious now as to what the old lady’s motive was. Ah, did she want him to marry her niece because she had a sentimental attachment to his estate?
Undeterred by his silence, Lady Ware continued. ‘I know your circumstances. Though you have no close relative, you are saddled with a clutch of distant relations who anticipate your help to advance in the world.’
Devil take it, she was correct. His family looked to him for patronage.  They expected him to marry well and produce an heir. Confound it, not one of them had regained their positions, lands or fortunes after the first King
Charles’s execution. Fortunately, his grandfather’s marriage to a French heiress saved he himself from poverty.
 
Her ladyship’s Roman nose twitched. Her thin lips curved in a predatory smile. ‘You will consider the match?’

Reluctant to say anything she might interpret as his agreement to marry Lady Richelda, he nodded. ‘I will do no more than consider it.’
‘Good, I shall not press you further.’ She hesitated with her fan mid-air, only to flutter it agitatedly. ‘I prefer you not to tell anyone my niece is my heiress. When she comes to town, I do not want a flock of fortune hunters to approach her.’
‘On my honour, I will not mention it to anyone. By the way, when will Lady Richelda arrive?’ 
‘This week.’
He stood. Each of the small dogs wagged their tails, stirred and yapped for attention round his ankles. Deep in thought he ignored them. Although no thought of imminent marriage had entered his head when he arrived, he might change his mind after meeting her ladyship’s niece. It was time he married and if she proved pleasant enough, maybe -.
Lady Ware clapped her hands. ‘My poppets like you and, believe me, my lord, they are good judges of character.’
Chesney restrained an incipient chuckle at his sudden notion of her ladyship’s dogs tricked out in wigs and gowns to judge him. ‘I am complimented by their approval, my lady.’ He bowed and kissed her bejewelled hand. ‘As for your niece, only providence knows if she and I are suited.’
With a rustle of silk mourning Lady Ware rose. ‘I believe you and Lady Richelda are well matched.’
Tangled Love is available from: MuseItUp Publishing, Amazon Kindle, Nook, Omlit, Bookstrand Mainstream, Kobo and elsewhere.
To view the book trailer, read the first three chapters and reviews please visit. www.rosemarymorris.co.uk

Tangled Love. Excerpt, Early 18thc Historical Fiction

Tangled Love, the story of two great estates, by Rosemary Morris was short listed for the best romantic e-book at The Festival of Romance, Bedford, U.K in 2013

 

Chapter One

 Fothering Place, London, England.

 1702

 

At ease in his lodgings, Alban, Viscount Chesney eyed his friend, Jack, Duke of Hertfordshire, whose tall frame was clad in extravagant silk and velvet. Gem set rings, illuminated by brilliant candlelight, adorned his long fingers.

Why did His Grace’s dark square face with its cleft chin look tense while he toyed with his blond periwig?

His dark amber eyes keen, Jack spoke. ‘My bailiff tells me you bought Field House.’

Chesney knew all about Jack’s insatiable hunger for land. In fact, Jack rarely missed a chance to add to his estates. ‘Yes, I did.’ He kept his tone smooth.

Jack swallowed the last of his port. ‘I would have bought it but for my fool of a bailiff who informed me too late of the sale.’

The viscount beckoned to Roberts, his servant. ‘More port for His Grace.’  He placed a hand over his own glass when Roberts moved toward him

Chesney glanced round his small but comfortable book-lined room. Although Jack was the most influential man and largest landowner in Hertfordshire it had naught to do with their friendship.

Jack stretched his legs out towards the fire. ‘Will you sell Field House to me?  After all both house and land have fallen fell into a sad state of neglect.’

‘No, I look forward to restoring my estate. Do not argue with me, my mind is made up.’

Jack’s cheeks reddened. ‘Very well, but now you are my neighbour, you must visit me whenever you wish.’ He yawned. ‘The hour grows late. I will take my leave of you.’

 Chesney stood. He bowed with mock formality. ‘I shall call on you with pleasure.’

 

                                                                                                                                      ..../continues

 Tangled Love is available from: MuseItUp Publishing, Amazon Kindle, Nook, Omlit, Bookstrand Mainstream, Kobo and elsewhere.

 To view the book trailer, read the first three chapters and reviews please visit. www.rosemarymorris.co.uk

 

 

Tangled Love:Early 18thc Historical Fiction.

Tangled Love by Rosemary Morris was short listed for the best romantic e-book at The Festival of Romance, Bedford, U.K in 2013

 

 

Tangled Love

Prologue- 1693

 

Nine year-old Richelda Shaw sat on the floor in her nursery. She pulled a quilt pulled over her head to block out the thunder pealing outside the ancient manor house while an even fiercer storm raged deep within. Eyes closed, remained as motionless as a marble statue.

Elsie, her mother’s personal maid, pulled the quilt from her head. ‘Stand up child, there’s nothing to be frightened of. Come, your father’s waiting for you.’

Richelda trembled. Until now Father’s short visits from France meant gifts and laughter. This one made Mother cry while servants spoke in hushed tones.

Followed by Elsie, Richelda hurried down broad oak stairs. For a moment, she paused to admire lilies of the valley in a Delft bowl.  Only yesterday, she picked the flowers to welcome Father home then arranged them with tender care. Now, the bowl stood on a chest, which stood beneath a pair of crossed broadswords hanging on the wall.

Elsie opened the great massive door of the great hall where Father stood to one side of an enormous hearth. Richelda hesitated. Her eyes searched for her mother before she walked across the floor, spread her skirts wide and knelt before him.

Father placed his right hand on her bent head. ‘Bless you, daughter, may God keep you safe.’ He smiled. ‘Stand up, child. Upon my word, sweetheart, your hair reminds me of a golden rose. How glad I am to see roses bloom in these troubled times.’

Richelda stood but dared not speak for she did not know him well.

 Putting an arm round her waist, he drew her to him. ‘Come, do not be nervous of your father, child. Tell me if you know King James II holds court in France while his daughter, Mary, and William, his son-in-law, rule after seizing his throne?’

‘Yes, Mother told me we are well rid of King James and his Papist wife,’ she piped up, proud of her knowledge.

With a sigh, Father lifted her onto his knee. ‘Richelda, I must follow His Majesty for I swore an oath of allegiance to him. Tell me, child, while King James lives how can I with honour swear allegiance to his disloyal daughter and her husband?’

Unable to think of a reply, she lowered her head breathing in his spicy perfume.

Father held her closer. ‘Your mother pleads with me to declare myself for William and Mary. She begs me not to return to France, but I am obliged to serve King James. Do you understand?’

As she nodded her cheek brushed against his velvet coat. ‘Yes, I understand, my tutor explained why many gentlemen will not serve the new king and queen.’

‘If you remain in England, you will be safe. Bellemont is part of your mother’s dowry so I doubt it will be confiscated.’

If she remained in England! Startled, she stared at him.

Smiling, he popped her onto her feet. ‘We shall ride. I have something to show you.’

*****

Before long, hey drew rein on the brow of a hill. Father pointed at a manor house in the valley.  ‘Look at our ancestral home, Field House. The Roundheads confiscated it soon after the first King Charles’ execution.  Richelda, I promised my father to do all in my power to regain the property.’ Grey-faced, he pressed his hand to his chest. ‘Alas, I have failed to keep my oath,’ he wheezed.

Richelda not only yearned to help him keep his promise to her grandfather, she also yearned to find the gold and jewels legend said her buccaneer ancestor, Sir Nicholas, hid.

She waited for her father to breathe easy before she spoke. ‘If we found the treasure trove you could buy Field House.’

 ‘Ah, you believe Sir Nicholas did not give all his plunder to Good Queen Bess,’ he teased.

 ‘Elsie told me legend says he hid some of his booty in Field House,’ she said excited by the thought of a treasure trove. ‘In his old age, when Sir Nicholas retired from seafaring, is it true that he put his ship’s figurehead, Lady Luck, in the great hall?’ she asked by now less shy of him.

‘Yes, for all I know she is still above a mighty fireplace carved with pomegranates, our family’s device.’

‘I would like to see it.’

 ‘One day, perhaps you will. Now, tell me if you know our family motto.’

‘Fortune favours the brave.’

‘Are you brave, my little lady? Will you swear on the Bible to do all in your power to regain Field House?’

To please him, she nodded.

 

Tangled Love is available from: MuseItUp Publishing, Amazon Kindle, Nook, Omlit, Bookstrand Mainstream, Kobo and elsewhere.

 

To view the book trailer, read the first three chapters and reviews please visit. www.rosemarymorris.co.uk

 

 

 

 

 

Tangled Love by Rosemary Morris was short listed for the best romantic e-book at The Festival of Romance, Bedford, U.K in 2013

 Tangled Love

Prologue- 1693

 Nine year-old Richelda Shaw sat on the floor in her nursery. She pulled a quilt pulled over her head to block out the thunder pealing outside the ancient manor house while an even fiercer storm raged deep within. Eyes closed, remained as motionless as a marble statue.

Elsie, her mother’s personal maid, pulled the quilt from her head. ‘Stand up child, there’s nothing to be frightened of. Come, your father’s waiting for you.’

Richelda trembled. Until now Father’s short visits from France meant gifts and laughter. This one made Mother cry while servants spoke in hushed tones.

Followed by Elsie, Richelda hurried down broad oak stairs. For a moment, she paused to admire lilies of the valley in a Delft bowl.  Only yesterday, she picked the flowers to welcome Father home then arranged them with tender care. Now, the bowl stood on a chest, which stood beneath a pair of crossed broadswords hanging on the wall.

Elsie opened the great massive door of the great hall where Father stood to one side of an enormous hearth. Richelda hesitated. Her eyes searched for her mother before she walked across the floor, spread her skirts wide and knelt before him.

Father placed his right hand on her bent head. ‘Bless you, daughter, may God keep you safe.’ He smiled. ‘Stand up, child. Upon my word, sweetheart, your hair reminds me of a golden rose. How glad I am to see roses bloom in these troubled times.’

Richelda stood but dared not speak for she did not know him well.

Putting an arm round her waist, he drew her to him. ‘Come, do not be nervous of your father, child. Tell me if you know King James II holds court in France while his daughter, Mary, and William, his son-in-law, rule after seizing his throne?’

‘Yes, Mother told me we are well rid of King James and his Papist wife,’ she piped up, proud of her knowledge.

With a sigh, Father lifted her onto his knee. ‘Richelda, I must follow His Majesty for I swore an oath of allegiance to him. Tell me, child, while King James lives how can I with honour swear allegiance to his disloyal daughter and her husband?’

Unable to think of a reply, she lowered her head breathing in his spicy perfume.

Father held her closer. ‘Your mother pleads with me to declare myself for William and Mary. She begs me not to return to France, but I am obliged to serve King James. Do you understand?’

As she nodded her cheek brushed against his velvet coat. ‘Yes, I understand, my tutor explained why many gentlemen will not serve the new king and queen.’

‘If you remain in England, you will be safe. Bellemont is part of your mother’s dowry so I doubt it will be confiscated.’

If she remained in England! Startled, she stared at him.

Smiling, he popped her onto her feet. ‘We shall ride. I have something to show you.’

*****

Before long, they drew rein on the brow of a hill. Father pointed at a manor house in the valley.  ‘Look at our ancestral home, Field House. The Roundheads confiscated it soon after the first King Charles’ execution.  Richelda, I promised my father to do all in my power to regain the property.’ Grey-faced, he pressed his hand to his chest. ‘Alas, I have failed to keep my oath,’ he wheezed.

Richelda not only yearned to help him keep his promise to her grandfather, she also yearned to find the gold and jewels legend said her buccaneer ancestor, Sir Nicholas, hid.

She waited for her father to breathe easy before she spoke. ‘If we found the treasure trove you could buy Field House.’

 ‘Ah, you believe Sir Nicholas did not give all his plunder to Good Queen Bess,’ he teased.

‘Elsie told me legend says he hid some of his booty in Field House,’ she said excited by the thought of a treasure trove. ‘In his old age, when Sir Nicholas retired from seafaring, is it true that he put his ship’s figurehead, Lady Luck, in the great hall?’ she asked by now less shy of him.

‘Yes, for all I know she is still above a mighty fireplace carved with pomegranates, our family’s device.’

‘I would like to see it.’ 

 ‘One day, perhaps you will. Now, tell me if you know our family motto.

‘Fortune favours the brave.’

‘Are you brave, my little lady? Will you swear on the Bible to do all in your power to regain Field House?’

To please him, she nodded.

 

 

 

 

Tangled Love@early 18thc. Historical Fiction.

Tangled Love by Rosemary Morris was short listed for the best romantic e-book at The Festival of Romance, Bedford U.K in 2013

 

Tangled Love is the story of two great estates. The throne has been usurped by James II’s daughter Mary and her husband William of Orange. In 1693, loyal to his oath of allegiance, ten year old Richelda’s father must follow James to France.

 

Before her father leaves, he gives her a ruby ring she will treasure and wear on a chain round her neck. In return Richelda swears an oath to try to regain their ancestral home, Field House.

 

By the age of eighteen, Richelda’s beloved parents are dead. She believes her privileged life is over. At home in dilapidated Belmont House, her only companions are her mother’s old nurse and her devoted dog, puck. Clad in old clothes she dreams of elegant gowns and trusts her childhood friend, a poor parson’s son, who promised to marry her.

 

Richelda’s wealthy aunt takes her to London and arranges her marriage to Viscount Chesney, the new owner of Field House, where it is rumoured there is treasure. If she finds it Richelda hopes to ease their lives. However, while trying to find it her life is in danger.

 

Tangled Love is available from: MuseItUp Publishing, Amazon Kindle, Nook, Omlit, Bookstrand Mainstream, Kobo and elsewhere.

 

To view the book trailer, read the first three chapters and reviews please visit. www.rosemarymorris.co.uk

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Knock at the Door

Yesterday, while I was critiquing a chapter for a member of the group I belong to someone banged on the front door. Irritated because I thought it might be yet another Jehovah's Witness or someone who had kicked a football from the park over my fence I answered the summons. There was my ten year old grandson,  holding a large bowl  filled with blackberries which he had picked. 'For you, to make a pie for us,' he said, and treated me to a gorgeous smile.

Tuesday's Child - Traditional Regency Romance & Back Story

My new novel is Tuesday's Child, a traditional Regency Romance, by which I mean I don't open wide the hero and heroine's bedroom door.  It is a follow on novel from Sunday's Child and Monday's Child, which will be published in spring, 2016. It is a stand alone novel but because the heroine was a minor character who played an important part in Sunday's Child the back story is crucial. Back story is always tricky. I think I've solved the problem by the heroine observing a scene and reflecting on the effects of past events effects on her present and introducing conflict.

Mediaeval Novel - Summer Holiday

Determined to finish my mediaeval novel I stopped posting messages. I have finished it and submitted it to literary agents. Phew!

I then went on holiday with my daughter and her three children which I enjoyed,  although more fine weather would have been welcome.

On our last morning the wind gusted across the beach at 50 miles an hour. From the window of the café that overlooks Woolacombe Bay I watched surfers wearing wet suits riding the waves. I also looked down at intrepid parents trying to erect a windbreak and their hopeful children holding buckets and spades. A few hardy people attempted to walk along the shore.

While we were away I took my shorthand notepad everywhere and amongst other things noted the colour of the sky and sea when they changed according to the weather. Such observations are often useful when I am writing a novel. 

Priorities

Summer seems to have arrived. I love long sunny days when I get on in the garden after I write from 6 a.m. to 10 a.m. with a break for breakfast.

Today the sun shone while I filled two more troughs with John Innes No.3 compost and planted 3 strawberry plants in each. My two year old strawberry plants in the front garden are fruiting well.  This morning I picked a few sun ripened ones that smelled so fragrant that they made my mouth water.

I tidied up the garden, putting odds and ends in the shed. I watered the plants in the greenhouse. I've put tomatoes outside to harden off before I plant them in the garden, and I potted up sweet Williams. By the way the flowers can be added to salads.

I always feel very peaceful when I work in the garden and also appreciate the results. At lunchtime I enjoyed a green salad made with baby lettuce, dandelion leaves, shepherds purse, and chive flowers, which I ate with new potatoes cooked with mint, and dressed with vegetarian mayonnaise and dill from the garden. Delicious with sliced tomato sprinkled with salt, pepper and a pinch or two of sugar, and brie. I really enjoy crisp, freshly picked lettuce which tastes so much better than lettuce from the supermarket.

Yesterday and Today

I've no idea why but yesterday I was so tired that I literally couldn't keep my eyes open. I returned to bed and slept for hours. Then it was a rush to get ready to attend my 14 year-old grandson's birthday in a Mexican restaurant. Eighteen members of my family got together to enjoy each others' company and a delicious meal. Afterward we went to an Italian Ice-Cream parlour which also serves cookie dough, cakes, cheesecakes and other desserts. The children like the banana splits and other treats

After a good night's sleep I continued to line edit the printed copy of my mediaeval novel. I really have almost finished tweaking it and, with the second volume of the chronicles in mind, am re-reading Kathryn Warner's Edward II.

My writing stint completed I worked in the garden. It's time to plant out as much as possible from the green house. I tipped a bag of horse manure and a large bucket of home made compost onto a 4foot square raised bed and then planted leeks in it.

Now I'm fed up because I wasted a lot of time trying to find out how to cancel a job listed on the printer. I've given up for now and am blogging etc., before I watch Spring Watch on television.

Tuesday's Child: False Start. The Wrong Point of View

I made several false starts when I began to write Tuesday’s Child. I had decided to write an author’s note to explain some of the events in Sunday's Child. After I finished the note, I began the novel, but no matter how often I wrote and rewrote the first page explanations about events in Sunday's Child were necessary

 

I needed a fresh approach. While I worked in the garden I considered the two important characters I had introduced in the first paragraph. Only one of them knew what happened in Sunday's Child so it became obvious that I should write from his point of view which would make it unnecessary to refer to previous events. .

Yesterday evening, after dealing with a lot of other ‘writerly’ business, I deleted the author's note and the first page. I then rewrote page one. As you can imagine, it's a relief to have solved the problem.

 

 

 

 

Roland Makes a Bow in False Pretences A Romantic Regency Mystery

False Pretemnces A Romantic Regency Mystery

 

By Rosemary Morris

 

Roland, hero of False Pretences, a traditional Regency romance, makes a low bow in appreciation of Great Historical’s review. He is delighted because the reviewer thinks he will linger in the reader’s memory.

 

Amazon Review. 5.0 out of 5 stars. A sweet and suspenseful Regency Romance. Kindle edition.

 

“Rosemary Morris has penned a delightful romantic story about a young woman named Annabelle in search of her family. Raised in a boarding school, with no contact with any family, and in the charge of a guardian she has never met, she runs away only to find herself in danger. Roland, a handsome man of means, saves her from imminent danger. He takes her under his wing and together they unravel a web of lies until the shocking truth of Annabelle's past life is revealed.

Rosemary Morris writes with ease and readability. Her characters are well rounded, evolving as the plot unfurls. This novel has a bit of everything - an endearing romance, a hint of mystery, dastardly villains, plenty of suspense, and a memorable hero and heroine who will stay with you long after you finish reading. The ending is intense as all the secrets are revealed, leading to a highly satisfying conclusion. A lovely sweet romance worthy of all age groups!”

 

www.amazon.co.uk and www.amazon.com False Pretences B009YK1MFO

 

Barnes and Novel, AppleiBookstore, Kobo, Blio, Google Play, Overdrive, Omnilit, All Romance E Books, Bookstrand, Coffee Time Romance, Scribd, Smashwords, Flipcart – India, Tolina

 

You may read more chapters and view the book trailer at;  www.rosemarymorris.co.uk

Half Term and Bank Holiday Weekend.

During half term and the bank holiday weekend, I've continued to write and deal with 'writerly' matters and keep up with mundane chores, cleaning, tidying the house, shopping etc. I've also enjoyed time with my grandchildren.

On Bank Holiday Monday, my daughter's children stayed for the night at my house. In the morning, I made a packed lunch and we went to Cassiobury Park. My granddaughter played on the swings slide etc., in the playground while the boys played football. After lunch my granddaughter played football with the boys. Before we went home I had a latte and the children had ice creams.

On Tuesday I looked after the children while my daughter had an appointment. The younger two and I played snakes and ladders and Rummy Cub. Granddaughter has learned to cheat so she won't have to go down the snakes. Lots of fun and laughter!

On Wednesday we went to the Aqua Pool in Aylesbury. There's a whirlpool that sweeps swimmers around an artificial island, an outdoor swimming pool, indoor pools suitable for everyone from toddlers to adults, jacuzzis around the pools and flumes. My five year-old granddaughter hurtles down them with her Mum behind her. She's very confident. All of us enjoyed the visit and our picnic lunch in the café which we enjoyed with an addition of potato wedges followed by treats for the children.

Today, I've got a doctor's appointment after which I shall do the week's shopping.

Tomorrow, weather permitting I shall work in the garden, if not I shall cook and freeze some meals. The children will stay with me for the night. If the weather is good we shall have a picnic at Rickmansworth Aquadrome on Sunday morning. After a walk around the lake with granddaughter using her scooter, we will have our picnic and then enjoy drinks and treats in the café.

Tuesday's Child, Author's Notes and First Paregraphs.

Characters from Sunday's Child and Monday's Child, my Traditional Regency Romances in which the hero and heroine's bedroom door remained closed, will appear in Tuesday's Child. The novel is not a sequel. It is a follow on novel in which Harriet, Lady Castleton and her son Arthur were introduced at the end of Monday's Child, so there is no need for the previous novels to be read in order to follow the story.

My first attempt to begin the novel was an extract from Monday's Child that partially introduced Harriet's recent past. I wrote a page and a half, then realised it didn't work. Next I wrote a brief author's note, in which I refer to Monday's Child to introduce the circumstances which led to the fraught situation in the opening paragraphs. I might change my mind later but, at the moment it seems an excellent solution.

The remainder of Harriet's immediate past can be revealed through conversation, body language and her thoughts.

I'm really looking forward to 'getting to grips' with the story which is taking shape in my mind.

I am J.M.Maurer's Guest.

I'm delighted to be J.M.Maurer's guest today. To find out more about me and my traditional historical novels - by which I mean that I don't open wide the hero and heroine's bedroom door - please visit:- http://www.jmmaurer.com/blog.html  Thank you, I hope you enjoy it.

Mediaeval Novel by Rosemary Morris

I thought I had revised and edited the final version of my Book One of my mediaeval saga set in the reign of Edward II. To make sure, before I submit it to an agent in accordance with the submission guidelines, I printed a copy. It was the right decision. So far I have found gerunds to get rid of, a few awkward phrases to rewrite and one or two grammatical errors.

Deep, deep sigh, sometimes I think the novel will never be finished; and when it is I will write volume two of the saga.

Heroine of Tuesday's Child and The Zodiac

After filling in the character profile for Harriet, the heroine of Tuesday's Child, my new Regency Romance, I have strengthened it by consulting the Zodiac and decided she is a Cancerian.

According to The Hamlyn Encyclopedia of Fortune Telling by Francis X. King, "The psychological nature of the pure Cancerian is rather like the physical nature of the crab and other crustaceans; a hard outer shell conceals an interior that is soft and vulnerable to injury. To outsiders Cancerians present a hard appearance, giving the impression that they are rough and unsympathetic; to those who know them well they are gentle and compassionate. A sea crab is totally attached to his/her home - his/her life is centred on partners, parents, children and their surroundings."

There is much more which is useful and has helped me to make Harriet a rounded character.

Zodiac and the Hero of Tuesday's Child

I spent hours thinking about writing my new Regency novel, Tuesday's Child, which I am nearly ready to begin.

Before I begin a new novel I must know the hero and heroine's names. Their names have to be appropriate for the era in which the novel is set.

After I have named the main protagonists, I visualise them and complete a character profile. When I have filled in all the details, I strengthen it by consulting their sign of the zodiac and adding to their profile.

Dominic, aka Dom, is a Sagittarian. The summary of Sagittarians in The Hamlyn Encyclopedia of Fortune Telling by Francis King under the heading Life Style is:-

"Sagittarians are always versatile and it is quite common for them to change from one career to another that, on the face of it, calls for quite different qualities. But both careers will have in common freedom from dull routine work and will give the Sagittarian a change to use his/her versatility and intelligence. Challenge is important to the Sagittarian...."

Sagittarians are also described as happy-go lucky.

There is much more in the book about Sagittarians. I have made good use of it to bolster Dom's personality.

Birthday, Editing, Writing, Gardening

Yesterday was my twin son's birthday. I enjoyed lunch at The Loving Hut, in Edgeware, a vegan Chinese restaurant that serves delicious food.

 This morning,  I got up at 5.45 a.m. I read through and edited a printed chapter of my mediaeval novel set in the reign of Edward II. Next, I lugged the hosepipe out to the front garden and turned on the hosepipe. Then I loaded the washing machine and turned it on. Back at the laptop, I completed the character profile for the hero in Tuesday's Child. I now have a clear vision of his appearance, background, character, what makes him tick etc.

After I turned off the tap and lugged the hosepipe to the back garden I hung out the clothes and then made a healthy breakfast - porridge with strawberries, black grapes and blueberries with almond milk and organic honey.

At ten o'clock, after another session on the laptop when I worked on the character profile of the heroine in Tuesday's Child, I turned off the laptop and worked in the garden. I swept the greenhouse floor, planted out French Beans and did much more.

A Birthday, Writing, Gardening

Yesterday was my twin son's birthday. I enjoyed lunch at The Loving Hut, in Edgeware, a vegan Chinese restaurant that serves delicious food.
 This morning,  I got up at 5.45 a.m. I read through and edited a printed chapter of my mediaeval novel set in the reign of Edward II. Next, I lugged the hosepipe out to the front garden and turned on the hosepipe. Then I loaded the washing machine and turned it on. Back at the laptop, I completed the character profile for the hero in Tuesday's Child. I now have a clear vision of his appearance, background, character, what makes him tick etc.

After I turned off the tap and lugged the hosepipe to the back garden I hung out the clothes and then made a healthy breakfast - porridge with strawberries, black grapes and blueberries with almond milk and organic honey.
At ten o'clock, after another session on the laptop when I worked on the character profile of the heroine in Tuesday's Child, I turned off the laptop and worked in the garden. I swept the greenhouse floor, planted out French Beans and did much more.