Neither Amelia nor I are in this one, but it’s worth a look despite (or perhaps because) of that.
Tag: Writing
Amelia’s latest
Another installment of our work. Exploring writing horror. It’s harder than regency romance. If we put together all the stuff we’ve deleted on the way, it would be 70,000 words. As it is, 36000 right now.
The Art of Deception 29
The Art of Deception
or Pride and Extreme Prejudice
Welcome to Weekend Writing Warriors. This week continues a spy story set in late Georgian England, the year before Trafalgar. Last week Lucy received an invitation to go for a ride. In a 1920’s gangster book that would seem a tad sinister, but this is just on horses, properly chaperoned, and to a civil war monument. They’ve decided this is an excellent opportunity for Miss Aldershot to investigate the men’s rooms at the Pelican. Unfortunately, Mr Stanton is ill, the sausage having disagreed with him.
Alice’s frustration with her horse showed, “I see these are gentle beasts, suitable for young ladies and other invalids.”
Edward smiled, “It will leave us with the time for conversation, and I should never forgive myself if Miss Haytor’s mount should bolt.”
“Thank you for considering my comfort.”
“These slugs, bolt? Not likely.” Alice was still not amused with the horses; her mare spotted a stray cur and sidled with a loud snort of displeasure; she pulled its reins and the horse quieted, “At least this one shows a little spirit.” She glanced at the groom, “but no manners.”
He ignored her.
After they had ridden off, a plainly dressed, middle-aged woman left the Christopher, bound for the Pelican; on the way she passed a rather good looking, similarly disguised, man heading the opposite direction; neither one of them noticed the other.
Now that you’ve read my hackery, please see the talented writers in Weekend Writing Warriors.
My apologies for creative punctuation.
Having women ride astride is a very common error in historical films. Women generally rode sidesaddle. There were practical reasons for this as what the English call “pants” weren’t worn by the gentle gender. They did have leggings and stockings, but wore something closer to a suspender belt than modern undergarments. (for what it’s worth men wore something much like a cross between modern swimming trunks and “boxers”, with a drawstring and without the mesh inside.) Personally, the few times I’ve been on horseback I’ve been very glad to have both feet in stirrups and being able to grab the horses’ back between my knees. I can’t imagine what it was like to sit sideways. The young lady in the cartoon is “fast” and the Tar knows it. The featured image shows what could be done, if you had the guts. (If you look carefully, she’s raised from the seat and having significant “air time!”)
Like poor Cecelia, “The Curious Profession of Dr Craven” is back from the dead.
I’ve released a sweet regency romance, Miss DeVere 
This is a fun read.
Frankenkitty is available.
What happens when teenagers get to play with Dr Frankenstien’s lab notebooks, a few odd chemicals and a great big whopping coil? Mayhem, and possibly an invitation to the Transylvanian Neuroscience Summer School.
The Art of Deception 28
The Art of Deception
or Pride and Extreme Prejudice
Welcome to Weekend Writing Warriors. This week continues a spy story set in late Georgian England, the year before Trafalgar. Last week the two men discussed Lucy and Alice as they trudged back to the Pelican for a supper of dubious sausages washed down with excellent beer. Their discussion has borne fruit this week when Lucy receives an invitation for an excursion.
A message awaited Miss Haytor when she awoke Tuesday, “Mr Spode invites her and a companion, to ride with him and Mr Stanton; perhaps to see the Grenville monument, but certainly to take some exercise in the fresh air, away from the smells and smoke of Bath.”
“Could we?”
Miss Aldershot studied Lucinda, “What else does it say?”
“Merely that if riding were out of the question, he could hire a chariot; failing that, he’d meet us at the Bath; I should so like to ride.”
She stalled for time to think, “What do you think Alice?”
“It would get the two of them away from the Pelican; I’d be happy to, um, investigate their rooms while they are … detained by other activities.”
Martha smiled, “That is an idea, but no; I think it best, Alice, that I investigate your friends; you’ll enjoy the ride far more than I ever could and that dashing Mr Stanton won’t be tempted to cry off if you’re there.”
“If you insist.”
“I do, besides people are far less likely to remember a frumpy old maid poking around the Pelican than a pretty young thing like you.”
Now that you’ve read my hackery, please see the talented writers in Weekend Writing Warriors.
My apologies for creative punctuation.
Sir Bevill Grenville fought for the royalists at the battle of Landsdown during the English civil war. The parliamentarian army camped on the hill overlooking Bath. Sir Bevill died, leading his regiment of Cornish pikemen, in fierce hand to hand combat. Unfortunately, for the royalists that is, they lost. This battle was one of several turning points in the civil war. Had the royalists won, they would have held onto the southwest. His good friend, the poet William Cartwright – who would also die fighting for the royal side, wrote the elegy that is inscribed on the column.
This was not Nature’s courage nor that thing,
We valour call which Time and Reason bring,
But a diviner fury fierce and high,
Valour transported into Ecstasy.
Like poor Cecelia, “The Curious Profession of Dr Craven” is back from the dead.
I’ve released a sweet regency romance, Miss DeVere This is a fun read.
Frankenkitty is available.
What happens when teenagers get to play with Dr Frankenstien’s lab notebooks, a few odd chemicals and a great big whopping coil? Mayhem, and possibly an invitation to the Transylvanian Neuroscience Summer School.
The Art of Deception 27
The Art of Deception
or Pride and Extreme Prejudice
Welcome to Weekend Writing Warriors. This week continues a spy story set in late Georgian England, the year before Trafalgar. Last week, Roderick and Edward met, somewhat to Roderick’s surprise, Alice and Lucy in Bath. They had an interesting and accidental meeting with an old acquaintance of Roderick’s. This week, the niceties over, the two men head back to the Pelican for as Roderick described it, “Sausages. Presumably made from pigs, but possibly with other, less savoury, ingredients.”
“Sausages for dinner, again?” Edward joked as he and Roderick trudged back to the Pelican.
“I hear they have a new cook; at least I hope so; in any case, the beer has a fine reputation and anything is edible – with enough of it; Did you catch their names and addresses?”
“Wondered how long it would take for you to ask me that, Lucinda,” He looked heavenward, “Lucinda is from Derbyshire, Thornsett, Miss Mapleton from the village of Easterly; I suppose that means we can write two villages off the list.”
“Not necessarily, Edward; the best cover stories are as true as is possible; fewer things to forget; Miss Mapleton did say her cousin was Miss Green … I think that is the name of the family thereabouts.”
Edward stopped, “You don’t think they’re involved?”
“Who?”
“Lady Green.”
“I’m impressed … know your minor nobility?”
“Lord no – they were friends of my parents; at least until Lord Green outran his legs; wonder what happened to them; last I heard they’d retired to the country; had a daughter, much younger.”
Now that you’ve read my hackery, please see the talented writers in Weekend Writing Warriors.
My apologies for creative punctuation.
Thornsett is a real village, more of a crossroads now, on the canal between New Mills and Hayfield in the peak district. New Mills (in the picture) is, as the name suggests, a factory town. It’s situated on ample water power and was being built about the time of this story. In 1804 Thornsett was the bigger of the three towns.
Like poor Cecelia, “The Curious Profession of Dr Craven” is back from the dead.
I’ve released a sweet regency romance, Miss DeVere This is a fun read.
Frankenkitty is available.
What happens when teenagers get to play with Dr Frankenstien’s lab notebooks, a few odd chemicals and a great big whopping coil? Mayhem, and possibly an invitation to the Transylvanian Neuroscience Summer School.
About my recent book #LifeBooksWriting
About My last book
This ought to be an easy post. Every author loves to talk about the last one. My most recent book, at least most recent that’s been released, is Frankenkitty. I’ve got a couple in the can, out at publishers and an agents on spec. Don’t know if that will work, but it’s worth a try.
Frankenkitty is a Young Adult science fiction work. Sort of Young Frankenstein meets Fast Times at Ridgemont High. Except a book rather than a movie and set in a more modern environment.
What happens when teenagers are given the good doctor’s secret formula? Enquiring minds want to know. (Hint it’s humour and chaos.)
This was a blast to write, and a complete change from my usual regency/historical fare. Available at fine online retailers (Well Amazon).
The Art of Deception 26
The Art of Deception
or Pride and Extreme Prejudice
Welcome to Weekend Writing Warriors. This week continues a spy story set in late Georgian England, the year before Trafalgar. Last week, Roderick and his companion awaited Lucy and Alice in Bath. The story, this week, starts after they’ve connected with Alice and Lucy. After exchanging greetings, Alice reminds ‘her charge’ that they need to enter their names in Mr Kings’ book.
“Our names must be entered in Mr Kings’ book, or else we won’t be admitted to the assembly; it may be too late for tonight’s ball, but it would be a shame to miss the concert or Thursday’s ball; we must remember to add your Aunt Heather as well.”
Edward gave Roderick a quick glance, “Shall we accompany them?”
Roderick nodded, Names, names and addresses, unless Mr King has changed the rules, “Absolutely,” He offered his arm to Alice, “Miss Mapleton, may I escort you?”
Alice breathlessly, despite her misgivings, nodded her agreement.
The two couples dodged their way through the crowds as they walked towards the pump room; eventually they made it onto the open Abbey square; however, by then Edward and Lucinda were far ahead.
An older man, dressed in the slightly faded colours of an old blue uniform, accosted them, “Sir Roderick, Mon vielle truand! What are you doing in Bath; I was told you were in America, and yet I find you ici with such a prime article on your arm; was she expensive, she looks it.”
Oh God, not now, “Do I know you?”
“Mais of course, General Charles Dumouriez, or have you forgotten our great times in Hamburg already?”
Now that you’ve read my hackery, please see the talented writers in Weekend Writing Warriors.
My apologies for creative punctuation.
General Dumouriez is an interesting real character from the French revolution and the Napoleonic wars. He helped to overthrow King Louis, and was an effective general during the war against the British and continental powers that immediately followed. The song ‘The Jolly Duke of York’ refers to one of the battles where Dumouriez handed the British a short sharp shock in the lowlands of Holland. He survived Robespierre’s reign of terror (rain of blood?) and the corrupt directory. However, the brutality and corruption of the revolution eventually was too much for him and he joined the British. (He may also have simply fallen afoul of Napoleon and had to depart in a hurry.) He then advised the British intelligence for the duration of the war.
This weekend:
Like poor Cecelia, “The Curious Profession of Dr Craven” is back from the dead.
I’ve released a sweet regency romance, Miss DeVere This is a fun read.
Frankenkitty is available.
What happens when teenagers get to play with Dr Frankenstien’s lab notebooks, a few odd chemicals and a great big whopping coil? Mayhem, and possibly an invitation to the Transylvanian Neuroscience Summer School.
Free Science Fiction and Science Fiction Romance
Patty’s Promo has links to a number of books that are free this weekend. Including one by my coauthor, Amelia. ‘The Girl in the Machine’ is actually number 26 in technothrillers. So technically it’s a best-seller.
The Art of Deception 25.
The Art of Deception
or Pride and Extreme Prejudice
Welcome to Weekend Writing Warriors. This week continues a spy story set in late Georgian England, the year before Trafalgar. Last week, after service, she escorted ‘her charge’ Lucy to visit Mr Spode and delivered the details of a proposed trip to Bath. Roderick and his companion await them in Bath. They’re staying in the Pelican, a “historic” coach inn even in the regency. The great Doctor Johnson had stayed there. Hopefully, they’d changed the sheets since then.
“Roddy, old chap, we can afford a much better place than this; it’s old and out of the way.”
“I know, which is precisely why I chose it.”
“But I can’t entertain Miss Haytor here,” Edward stated his real objection.
“True, hire a parlour at the York or the Bell if you want, or simply take her to the pump room.”
“Have you tasted the waters?”
“Thoroughly disgusting and therefore good for you.”
“You are not being helpful, Lord Fitzpatrick.”
“Seriously, Edward; this is for the best; you don’t know anything about the lovely Lucinda; if her companion weren’t so dashed smoky I’d gladly push your case.”
“She’s a sweet, lovely innocent-”
“Accompanied by a skilled French spy; I hope, for your sake, she’s been duped by the dashing Miss Mapleton or Miss Green … if either of those are her real name, which I doubt; because otherwise she’s for the drop.”
Now that you’ve read my hackery, please see the talented writers in Weekend Writing Warriors.
My apologies for creative punctuation.
The Pelican was not fashionable. This picture, from the 1920’s, shows the stables. It was relatively inexpensive, and out of the way on the London side of town. Fashionable people stayed at places like “The York Family Hotel” or “The Christopher.” The Christopher was rebuilt after those dashed Germans bombed it, but is now out of business. You can still stay in the York. The Pelican survived into the twentieth century but was demolished before world war 2.
Like poor Cecelia, “The Curious Profession of Dr Craven” is back from the dead.
I’ve released a sweet regency romance, Miss DeVere This is a fun read.
Frankenkitty is available.
What happens when teenagers get to play with Dr Frankenstien’s lab notebooks, a few odd chemicals and a great big whopping coil? Mayhem, and possibly an invitation to the Transylvanian Neuroscience Summer School.
The Art of Deception 24
The Art of Deception
or Pride and Extreme Prejudice
Welcome to Weekend Writing Warriors. This week continues a spy story set in late Georgian England, the year before Trafalgar. Last week, Alice was surprised by Roderick, in church, just after she congratulated herself about ‘doing her bit’ for Britain. This week, after service, she escorts ‘her charge’ Lucy to visit Mr Spode and deliver the details of a proposed trip to Bath. Alice has just been asking questions of the innkeeper where Mr Spode and Mr Stanton are staying. Roderick finds her in the process.
Alice spun round and coloured, which did not stop her from replying, “You were asking your share of pointed questions about me on our walk here, Mr Stanton; I thought it only fair that I asked my share about you.”
“Roddy, old boy!” Edward joined them and interrupted what could have been an interesting exchange, “I see you’ve found the lovely Miss Mapleton; Lu- Miss Haytor says you have a message for me.” Lucy was not far behind him.
Glad of the respite, Alice pulled a letter from her reticule and handed it to him, “Sorry … here it is Mr Spode; this gives our plans for travel to Bath, and Miss Haytor’s address there; I, of course, shall be staying with her, as well as her Aunt, Miss Heather.” She curtsied and then turned to Lucy, “Miss Haytor, our carriage should be here soon; I shall see if it’s here … Lucinda, please come.”
Once the two women left, Edward asked his friend, “So My Lord did you find anything out about the young Miss Mapleton?”
“Only that she’s got her wits about her; gave me a long line of faradiddles and Canterbury tales; she didn’t trip up once; I must say the French are recruiting a better class of agent than they did in the past.”
Now that you’ve read my hackery, please see the talented writers in Weekend Writing Warriors.
My apologies for creative punctuation.
The Gillray cartoon I’ve added as a featured image is suggesting that maybe, in 1793, the British should not follow the French into revolution. It’s sort of relevant in these days of Brexit (though I would have voted remain – had I a vote). None the less, it is reasonably humorous. By the way, the “Thomas Pain” staymaker, refers to the “Thomas Paine” author of “the American Crisis” – from the American Revolution.
In searching for the cartoon, I found a number of modern cartoons that directly quote Gillray. Here’s an example that I think is safe to use.
Like poor Cecelia, “The Curious Profession of Dr Craven” is back from the dead.
I’ve released a sweet regency romance, Miss DeVere This is a fun read.
Frankenkitty is available.
What happens when teenagers get to play with Dr Frankenstien’s lab notebooks, a few odd chemicals and a great big whopping coil? Mayhem, and possibly an invitation to the Transylvanian Neuroscience Summer School.
R. Harrison, Creative Enterprises 