I hope you are staying safe and well. I and my family are safe and well, which, this week, means more than we have not contracted a virus because last weekend our province was the site of the worst mass shooting in Canada. To say it has been a challenging week is an understatement.
Be that as it may, I still went to work and did the things, and, below, you will find information about what I accomplished in my writing life this week, as well as publishing information and book sale news.
Writing News
Here’s an update on my writing I have with a short excerpt from two of them.
Her Convenient Forever: I wrote chapter three this week. So, I am on track to start posting that story on my blog on May 12 as I had hoped I would be. Here is an excerpt from chapter 3.
PUBLISHED TO YOUTUBE BY RYANN DARLING ON JANUARY 6, 2018.
This is a video I “stumbled” upon by accident on YouTube while looking for Music Monday video options. What a sweet discovery! I think that this song pairs well with the relationship between Lydia and Richard in my Marrying Elizabeth series — especially with the scene they share at the end of the chapter I am sharing below — and if you’ve read the wedding breakfast scene at the end of Loving Lydia and remember the song Lydia sings for Darcy and Elizabeth, as well as her colonel, I think you’ll agree that this is another song she might sing to him. 🙂
Mary huffed as she stood beside Elizabeth, waiting to be allowed entrance to Netherfield the next day. There had been a long and lengthy discussion between Mary and her father after Lydia had told him what Mary had said on their walk.
“You are to be polite,” Lydia said.
“I know,” Mary grumbled.
“And apologize.”
Again, Mary huffed. “I know. Stop speaking.”
“Good day, Mr. Harvey,” Jane said as the door opened. “We are here to see…” She looked at her sisters. “Well, everyone it seems.”
“Very good, ma’am. If you will follow me.”
“That lace Mama selected looked very nice on Elizabeth’s wedding dress, did it not?” Jane asked Lydia. She was attempting as always to direct the conversation so that the argument from a few moments ago would be lost.
“It was lovely,” Lydia agreed.
“Only two more weeks,” Kitty whispered, “and we shall have to call on you here, Jane.”
Jane smiled broadly. “It seems so far away and yet so close.”
When he had asked, their mother had assured Darcy yesterday that she thought all the necessary preparations for a wedding would be completed by the end of the week. There was nothing to be concerned about except whether Colonel Fitzwilliam would be able to attend and if standing for a full service would be too much for Mr. Bennet’s leg. Therefore, a date had finally been decided upon, and Elizabeth knew that Jane was eagerly anticipating becoming the mistress of Netherfield.
PUBLISHED TO YOUTUBE BY MICHAEL ORTEGA ON NOVEMBER 3, 2019
When I heard this song on a day when I was working on finding music to pair with stories, I knew I wanted to share it, and when I turned my mind to what story might pair well with this song, His Beautiful Bea came to mind first. I just think that the song has the same sort of feel that His Beautiful Bea has. It’s soft and lovely with a touch of sadness that is lifted up and turned into something far better than what was lost by true love. Hopefully, that explanation makes sense to more people than just me. LOL
Just a note before you read: His Beautiful Bea is a novella of 8 chapters. I am sharing chapter 6. Those facts should let you know that there may be some spoilers in here for those who have not read this story already. 😉
His Beautiful Bea, Chapter 6
Touches of Austen Book 1
For two long and tiresome days, Beatrice was confined to either a sofa in the sitting room at Heathcote or a bench in the garden. Her mother was not known to coddle her children, but she was not the sort who foolishly flouted precautions, especially when it came to Beatrice. Having nearly lost her daughter to a fever when Bea was just eleven, Mrs. Tierney stuck firmly to all prescribed restrictions, and a turned ankle that showed signs of bruising required, according to Bea’s mother, a full two days of rest with little walking. Mrs. Tierney would not confine Bea to her bed, but she would not have her hobbling about ─ not even with a cane. Bea was to rest with her foot on a pillow.
It was, therefore, a happy morning on the third day when Bea could rise from bed and take a walk around the garden — a short walk around the garden, one that would not aggravate her injury. Her mother’s words and expression when giving her directives had been stern, and Bea knew better than to disobey.
So it was that Bea was in the garden near the hedge when her brother, Graeme, and Shelton returned from their ride.
“Miss Tierney!” Shelton doffed his hat and greeted her from where he sat on his horse. “I missed our rematch. I am confident I could have been victorious today.”
PUBLISHED TO YOUTUBE BY RONANKEATINGOFFICIAL ON FEB 26, 2020.
It is the chorus of this song that made me think of the story from which I am sharing today. This story is a short novella that starts with an accepted offer of marriage that has been years waiting to be given. The reason for those five long years of separation for our dear couple…well, read the first chapter and you’ll find out. 😉
Elizabeth took in the splendor of the ballroom. It was far grander than she had ever experienced. The walls were decorated with portraits and landscapes, one standing alongside the next with others over and below them. Four large chandeliers twinkled, their brilliance reflected in several mirrors that hung amongst the paintings. Down the length of the room to her left, doors opened into the house, while on her right were grand doors framed by pillars and heavy drapes leading into the garden. At the far end of the room, a small group of musicians was pausing between dances, and on the floor, only a few chalk flowers remained distinguishable. She no longer felt overdressed, though, she did still feel strange wearing colour after so long in mourning clothes.
“Come, my dear.” Her uncle, Gareth Amberly, took her elbow. “There are people to meet.”
Elizabeth put a smile on her face and nodded. At one time, she had enjoyed meeting people. It had been amusing to watch their interactions and make judgments about their character, but that was before she had discovered how very little she knew about judging character.
They had stopped about halfway down the length of the left side of the ballroom. Her uncle lifted onto his toes, stretching his neck this way and that as if searching for someone in particular. Inwardly, Elizabeth sighed and turned to admire a painting of a young woman with a small child on her lap and another standing just behind her shoulder.
Uncle Gareth had been eagerly talking about this ball for a fortnight. He was worse than Lydia for excitement and equaled her mother for chatter about this or that gentleman. She tilted her head and wistfully examined the face of the young child. No matter how she might long for a family of her own, Uncle Gareth was far more eager to see her remarried than she was.
Although her time in town had helped her spirits to lift enough to allow a small glimmer of hope that happiness might be possible, she truly had no desire to marry again…unless… She shook her head. That was hopeless. She had had her chance and squandered it. She was certain that Mr. Darcy had married long ago and to someone more acceptable than she.
Riding Stables of Royal Pavilion, 1826 (from John Nash’s Views) Royal Pavilion & Museums, Brighton & Hove
There is no Thursday’s 300 chapter tomorrow, so today’s visual inspiration goes along with Her Heart’s Choice, Choices (book 4). The hero, Madoch, is keeping a secret from the heroine, Anne, and this is from the scene where she discovers that secret.
“In case you were wondering, I will not marry a man with a mistress, nor will I become one.”
Blackmoore laughed. “I would not attempt to suggest such. I felt the way Madoch protected you the last time we met, and I have endured his glares all evening.” He shook his head as he continued to chuckle. “No, no, he is not someone with whom I wish to tangle. I fear I would not win.”
The comment surprised Anne. “I beg your pardon, but I do not understand your meaning. What exactly makes a man who cares for horses someone who must be feared?” Alex was not a small or retiring man, but he was not a brute either. How he could inspire such a reaction in a gentleman who was his superior in rank was beyond her comprehension.
Blackmoore laughed once again. “His connections, my dear, his connections. It is not that he cares for horses but for whose horses he cares.”
