I bolted up in bed this morning with a single thought, “What would a regency dandy wear as undergarments?”
Such is the life of a Historical Romance writer. History and research is a big part of my writing day, along with drinking tea and lots of window staring. For instance, in my regency story Lover’s Gamble I centered Sophie and Hugh’s love story around the notorious French card game Vingt-et-un. I went a bit further in my novel Priceless Deception, using the heroine’s quest for the infamous French Blue diamond (today known as the Hope Diamond) as the backdrop to a tale of mystery and romance.
I love blending history with great characters and romance. Still curious about the dandy’s unmentionables? Check out my Facebook author page for the answer!
The full length novel Priceless Deception is due out August 12th, but don’t despair! My short story Lover’s Gamble is available now.
Special thanks to Sarah for hosting me today!
Sophie Hartlend likes to play with fire.
Raised by an all too indulgent uncle, she's spent her young life doing whatever she pleases without much consequence, except that one night when passions went a little too far with the maddeningly handsome Lord Rayburn.
Months after their encounter, Sophie's reckless behavior has landed her in trouble again, threatening her precious independence. Lord Rayburn gallantly offers to help, but this time he insists the wild Miss Sophie do things his way and once again they find themselves in an erotic embrace.
Their battle of wills results in a sensuous struggle where Sophie learns she must let down her guard to win a man's heart.
Hugh shook his head, forcing his vision to clear. It couldn’t be. He simply had to be mistaken… but no, when he looked again there was no doubt. It was none other than Miss Sophie Hartlend, chattering away like she’d been gambling in Newbury House for years.
What the hell does she think she’s doing? It’s nearly two in the morning, and not a chaperone in sight! He had to admit she looked as stunning as he remembered her. Her long hair curled artfully around her high cheekbones, like a long-worshipped Grecian goddess. He had a sudden vision of releasing that cascade of hair from its heavy pins, watching it flow down her naked back in waves.
With a sharp pang Hugh remembered the feel of it through his fingers as he kissed her that hot August night—nearly a year ago now, but a night he’d never forgotten. He’d fallen in love after that single night of passion and, stupidly, assumed she had felt the same way. The next day he’d laid his pride at her feet, making an utter fool of himself over a woman.
Hugh’s hand tightened into a fist. After that day he’d never seen her again, until now. And suddenly here she was, in the most inappropriately low-cut gown he’d ever seen, gambling like a common bit of muslin.
And apparently quite bad at it, too.