Friday, November 21, 2014

GOOSED! OR A FOWL CHRISTMAS is Here!



Goosed! or A Fowl Christmas, the first in my Regency The Feather Fables series, is now available on Amazon, Barnes and Noble and Smashwords. Coming soon to Kobo and Apple.

BLURB:

The Feather Fables--where birds twitter and chirp and bring romance.

Ah, Christmas, what a glorious season. Decorations, friends, good will to all, a time of magic and miracles.

But not for Miss Julia Shaw. She is new to the area, her farm desperately needs upkeep, and the pittance she earns from her artwork doesn’t pay the bills. And then her pet goose escapes. Making matters worse, when she first meets the devastatingly attractive Lord Tyndall, the abominable man insults her as he returns her goose. No peace and good will for her this Christmas.

Exhausted from a year of business travel, Robert, Baron Tyndall, returns to London only to fall prey to his mother’s matchmaking attempts. Escaping to his country estate, he finds solace with the birds in his aviary. Except that a plague of a goose that belongs to his new neighbor, Miss Shaw, has somehow entered his aviary and wreaked havoc. That disagreeable lady had better keep her misbegotten bird to herself. Too bad she is so lovely. What a horrendous Christmas this season has become.

But even in the blackest depths, a spark of light can glimmer. For at this wondrous time of Christmas, miracles and magic can and do happen.

A sweet, traditional Regency romance with fantasy elements. 61,000 words.

EXCERPT:
What was that infernal din? Catching up her shawl, Julia dashed down the stairs and then out through the front door. Winding her shawl around her, she rounded the house and almost slammed into an unfamiliar gig.

The vehicle blocked her view of the goose pen, from which the honking emanated. But no one was there—her pet goose had run off. She ran around the conveyance and stopped dead.

Her pet had returned! Flapping, honking and biting, the flying goose—He could fly? She had never before seen him do so—attacked a large, stylishly dressed gentleman.

The man, his arms high to protect his head, flailed at the goose. His back was to her, his upended hat lay in the dirt and white feathers covered his black greatcoat. He swore. Loudly.

Julia’s ears burned. “Do not hurt my goose, sir!”

The man batted at the goose again and turned toward her.

Julia gasped. He was the man on the road a few days ago. His dark eyes blazed, his brown hair was mussed, and his sharp cheekbones had flushed from the effort of warding off the goose.

Her pulse raced. He had looked handsome at a distance. Up close, he was magnificent. Tingles raced over her skin.

“This spawn of Satan is your property, madam?” He jerked his head back from the goose’s open bill as the bird dove in for a bite.

“He is, sir, and you will not harm him!” She jumped between the man and the goose.

The goose, breathing heavily, plopped to the ground. Eyes afire, he angled his head around her. He hissed at the man.

“Gracious, what is the matter?” She stroked the goose’s head.

The bird went limp, as if he had been pumped full of air and all the gas suddenly escaped.

She tipped her head back to glare up at the man. Good gracious, he was tall. “He has never acted this way before. What have you done to him?”

The man’s jaw dropped. “I? This feathered blackguard has tried to bite me ever since I saw him. And just now he attacked me.” He scowled at the goose. “If he is your property, you are welcome to him.”


Available at



Also available at the other Amazon stores

Barnes and Noble


Smashwords (note, all formats are available on Smashwords)


Kobo coming soon

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

Thank you all,
Linda



Sunday, November 9, 2014

Happy Thanksgiving, All!


All cultures have harvest festivals. The United States harvest festival is Thanksgiving, now celebrated on the fourth Thursday of November.

Our current Thanksgiving dates from 1621. Two years after their 1619 landing in the New World, the Pilgrims in Plymouth in the Massachusetts Bay Colony held a feast to celebrate their first good harvest. Strictly speaking, this celebration was not the first one. Settlers in Virginia and the Spanish explorers in Texas held harvest/thanksgiving celebrations earlier.

The actual date for Thanksgiving has varied through the years. Since Thanksgiving is a harvest festival, the day generally occurred in October or November. Each state set its own date until 1863, when, by presidential proclamation, all the states celebrated Thanksgiving on the last Thursday in November. But November can have four or five Thursdays, so Thanksgiving remained a moveable holiday until 1941, when federal legislation fixed it at the fourth Thursday in November.

Now for some Thanksgiving quotes:

For flowers that bloom about our feet;
For tender grass, so fresh, so sweet;
For song of bird, and hum of bee;
For all things fair we hear or see,
Father in heaven, we thank Thee!
Ralph Waldo Emerson

There is one day that is ours. There is one day when all we Americans who are not self-made go back to the old home to eat saleratus biscuits and marvel how much nearer to the porch the old pump looks than it used to. Thanksgiving Day is the one day that is purely American.
O. Henry

Give thanks for unknown blessings already on their way.
Native American Saying

May your stuffing be tasty
May your turkey be plump,
May your potatoes and gravy
Have nary a lump.
May your yams be delicious
And your pies take the prize,
And may your Thanksgiving dinner
Stay off your thighs!
Author Unknown

And my favorite quote, which I saw in a Thanksgiving greeting card:

"Thanksgiving--the one day in the year we give thanks for turkeys."

Gobble, gobble.

Thank you all,
Linda

The picture is "The First Thanksgiving at Plymouth" (1914) By Jennie A. Brownscombe. From Wikipedia

Sunday, November 2, 2014

Review: FAMILY PLOT by Sheri Cobb South



John Pickett is back!

If you’re like me, you’ve been waiting for Sheri Cobb South's Regency mystery Family Plot, the continuing story of the mutual attraction between Bow Street Runner John Pickett and the widowed Julia, Lady Fieldhurst.

The Fieldhursts have banished Julia to Scotland because of the unwanted attention her husband’s murder has attracted, and also because she pays too much attention to a certain Bow Street Runner. As long as they’re banishing her, they use her as an escort and babysitter for the current Lord Fieldhurst’s sons. En route to the nobleman’s estate, they take a detour to the coast, and to prevent anyone from tracing them, Julia assumes the name Mrs. Pickett.

Things heat up when a woman washes ashore, one who professes she’s the long-lost daughter of a prominent local family. Things heat up more when the family hires John Pickett to investigate the woman’s story. Not only does he find secrets, but also a “wife” he didn’t know he had, and one he desperately wants to claim.

Ms. South has crafted a fine Regency, full of the language and social customs of the time, the continuing love interest of John and Julia, and a mystery convoluted enough to satisfy die-hard fans of the genre.

But the best part of the novel is the dance between John and Julia as they try to deny their increasing feelings for each other. Who says you need sex in a story? I much prefer the slow burn between John and Julia.

I love John Pickett. He’s the best type of hero: honorable, competent, intelligent, kind, self-made. And he’s young and gorgeous, too, which certainly doesn’t hurt. :) He’s also madly in love with Julia, and she with him, but the social gulf which separates a Bow Street Runner, son of a pickpocket, from a well-born widow of a baron, is too vast for them to bridge. Or is it? Will true love triumph?

Julia shows herself to be more than just a pretty face. Bullied by her husband’s family and the customs of the time, she questions why she lets this happen. Her transformation is at hand, and by the finale she proves herself a woman to be reckoned with. My kind of heroine.

If you’re rooting for John and Julia, you’ll adore the end! But don’t peek. Save the surprise for the last. You’ll be glad you did.

Thank you all,
Linda
ARC provided by the author