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Georgian Celebrities - Butcher Cumberland or Sweet William?

7/22/2015

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Prince William Augustus was born on April 26, 1721 in Leicester House in London during the reign of his grandfather King George I. He was the first member of the House of Hanover to be born in England. His father was the future King George II and his mother was Caroline of Ansbach.

At the age of four he was created Duke of Cumberland, Marquess of Berkhampstead, Earl of Kennington, Viscount Trematon and Baron Alderney. 

At the age of 19, Cumberland joined the Royal Navy, but in 1742 he transferred to the Army, becoming a Major General in December of that year at the age of 21. In 1743 he saw active service in the middle east, then on 27 June 1743 fought alongside his father at the Battle of Dettingen in Germany. Cumberland was wounded, but considered a hero at home, and promoted to Lieutenant General.

On 11 May 1745, at the age of 24, Cumberland was Commander-in-Chief of the allied British, Hanoverian, Austrian and Dutch troops when he led his troops to a valiant defeat at the Battle of Fontenoy. When Bonnie Prince Charlie marched into England at the head of his Jacobite Army in November 1745, evading Field Marshal Wade's forces and reaching Derby, Cumberland was recalled to England to take charge of all forces in Britain. He hotly pursued the Jacobite Army back to the Scottish border, but then returned south to ensure the coast of England was safeguarded against French attack. He left the pursuit of the Jacobites to Lieutenant General Hawley.

When Hawley was beaten by the Jacobites at the Battle of Falkirk Muir on 17 January 1746, Cumberland headed north, arriving in Edinburgh on 30 January. Cumberland took the time to make sure his troops were trained to withstand the famous highland charge. When the two armies met on 16 April, the outcome was a decisive victory for Cumberland.

Cumberland, however, was interested in more than winning a battle. He wanted to ensure that the long series of Jacobite uprisings in Scotland would be brought to an end, once and for all. In the aftermath of the battle, Cumberland's troops committed widespread atrocities, killing many wounded, surrendering and fleeting Jacobites, as well as bystanders and local residents. Cumberland’s infamous order that there was to be ‘no quarter’ for the Jacobites was ruthlessly interpreted by his men.

Worse was to come. Bonnie Prince Charlie might have escaped but Cumberland took his revenge on those left behind. He established his headquarters at Fort Augustus, which had been named after him during his childhood. From there he sent out columns of troops backed by ships of the Royal Navy to commit genocide across the Jacobite areas of the Highlands. Cumberland even considered shipping the entire population of these areas to the colonies. In the end he satisfied himself with burning farmsteads, crofts and houses. Widespread murder and rape ensued. On Cumberland’s orders 20,000 head of cattle were sent south, effectively wiping out the entire economy of the Highlands. Cumberland also went about dismantling Highland culture by disarming the clans, banning the wearing of Highland dress, suppressing certain surnames and the use of the Gaelic language. This amounted to an early example of ethnic cleansing. Prince William Augustus came to be known in the Highlands as Butcher Cumberland.

But in the Lowlands it was a very different story. The Glasgow Journal produced a special commemorative edition after Culloden in which they recorded ‘the greatest rejoicings that have been known in the city’. Most Lowland Scots had little love for the Jacobites, and even less sympathy for those in the Highlands who had become involved in Bonnie Prince Charlie's cause.

Back in England, Cumberland was honoured with a special anthem composed in his honour by Handel entitled ‘See the conqu'ring hero comes’. He was known as Sweet William in honour of his successes. Despite this, Culloden and its brutal aftermath did affect Cumberland's public image south of the border, and the taunt of ‘Butcher Cumberland’ was whispered even in London.  It is significant that no British Army regiment has ever included Culloden among its battle honours.

Things deteriorated for Cumberland when, in 1757, he was placed in command of British and allied forces defending Hanover from French attack during the Seven Years' War. It was a major humiliation for his dynasty when he failed. George II refused to be bound by Cumberland's agreement to evacuate Hanover, and a disgraced Cumberland resigned from all public office. 

Cumberland died in London in 1765, aged 44, unmarried and childless.


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Our Sexy Best ~ @MySexySaturday #MySexySaturday #Saturday7 #MSSAuthors

6/19/2015

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Welcome to the 97th week of My Sexy Saturday! This week’s theme is Our Sexy Best brought to you by the Tina Turner song Simply The Best. 

Our theme this week has no genre, no rules except that the characters know their partner is better than all the rest. They may have had lovers before but nothing compares to the lover they are with right now. Our aim this week, is to show you those characters who really are are better than all the rest. 

The rules of My Sexy Saturday are simple. The post must be 7 paragraphs or 7 sentences or 7 words only.

My own My Sexy Saturday excerpt this week comes from my newly released historical romance, A Kiss for a Highlander, which has already received some great reviews.
 
RT BOOK Reviews said "Readers will enjoy the deep characterization and the stormy passion of this romantic couple, and will look forward to the next book in the series." 
http://www.rtbookreviews.com/book-review/kiss-highlander-0

"Jane Godman has raised the bar with her, A Kiss for a Highlander; it is bursting at the seams with climatic scenes that keep the pages turning!" Guilty Pleasures Book Reviews 
http://www.guiltypleasuresbookreviews.com/2015/06/arc-review-a-kiss-for-a-highlander-georgian-rebel-1-by-jane-godman.html

Touchingly emotional and riveting till’ the very last page, engulf yourself in the drama of two star crossed lovers fighting for love—and their lives! A Kiss for a Highlander is Diva Mom’s Pick of the Month for June for a hot and steamy summer romance! 
http://divamoms.com/?p=9999&utm_source=dlvr.it&utm_medium=twitter&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+MomsWhoBlog+%28Moms+Who+Blog%29

Blurb
A passion that burns away centuries of hate…

Stranded in the heart of England after Bonnie Prince Charlie’s hasty retreat, highlander Fraser Lachlan has sworn to stay by his injured friend’s side. But when a kindly English family takes Jack in to be cared for by the governess and healer at their Derbyshire estate, Fraser can only watch helplessly.

It’s just a matter of time before Jack is turned over to the Crown as a traitor, but Fraser’s attempt to rescue his friend is met with the blunt end of a candlestick.

Martha Wantage wears every reason she hates the Scots on her body—in the scars from a violent, fiery attack that killed her family. Now she has not only one unconscious Jacobite rebel at her mercy, but two. And she can’t resist cursing her enemy with the “kiss of hate”.

That kiss unleashes a storm of passion that rages quickly out of control. But with the legacy of Martha’s scars weighing heavy on her mind, and Fraser’s duty calling him to battle at Culloden, it may be too late to explore whether theirs is a desire born of hate…or love.

Warning: Contains a very sexy, masterful highlander and a demure, but defiant, governess who discovers the hard—very hard—way exactly what a Scotsman keeps under his kilt.

Excerpt
She didn’t answer and he moved closer. Keeping his eyes on hers in the semidarkness, he reached out and took the blanket from her shoulders. She probably should have protested. Then he undid the laces at the neck of her nightdress, and the moment for objections had passed. His big hands felt warm against the cool flesh of her upper arms as he tugged the cloth down, exposing her small, pointed breasts to his gaze. The scars that marred her shoulder and upper arm continued across the top of her left breast, almost to the centre of her chest, making the undamaged skin below appear even whiter and purer in contrast. She closed her eyes, but she could still feel his eyes on her. Slowly and softly, his hands moved across her scarred flesh, massaging and stroking. No-one else had ever touched her there—not since the nuns had treated her burns—and his caress made her shudder with a combination of shock and pleasure.

Then Fraser bent his head and very gently licked the tip of one pale pink nipple. The sensation was so outrageously delicious that Martha didn’t move. She couldn’t.

He lifted his head and smiled into her eyes as she opened them again. “Just look at you, Martha Wantage. You’re not all hard edges and sharp points as you’d have the world believe. You choose these ugly clothes to hide yourself beneath, but under them, you’re all soft and round. Will you let me do it again?” Her eyes felt huge on his as, very slowly, she nodded.

He placed his hand beneath her breast, lifting it to his mouth as he lowered his head again, this time taking the whole of her left nipple between his lips and sucking it. How was it possible for his tongue to feel so soft and yet to rasp against her flesh? Martha’s head fell back as she gave a moan of complete surrender. Adroitly, Fraser moved his hands behind her, supporting her with his palms flat against her shoulder blades to prevent her from falling backward.

He moved his lips up to the hollow of her neck. “Tell me to stop and I will.”

“What will you do if I say nothing?” Her voice sounded husky and quite unlike her own.

“I’ll keep going until I think you’re warm enough.” She remained silent, and he gave a soft laugh of understanding.

A Kiss for a Highlander is available from Amazon: 
http://www.amazon.com/Kiss-Highlander-Georgian-Rebel-ebook/dp/B00SKPXX7Y/
And Samhain: 
https://www.samhainpublishing.com/book/5459/a-kiss-for-a-highlander

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If you want to find out more about My Sexy Saturday, please follow this link: 
http://mysexysaturday.blogspot.co.uk/2015/06/our-sexy-best-mysexysaturday.html

Don't forget to check out this week's other My Sexy Saturday Bloggers!
http://www.markofthestars.com/wp/
http://bronwynheeley.blogspot.co.uk/2015/06/mysexysaturday_20.html
http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/?p=12567
http://www.laynapimentel.com/blog
http://lilyharlem.blogspot.co.uk/2015/06/my-sexy-saturday-our-sexy-best.html
http://barefootatmidnight.blogspot.co.uk/
http://alexisduranblog.com/
http://angelvoisen.blogspot.co.uk/2015/06/our-sexy-best-mysexysaturday-saturday7.html
http://janeleopoldquinn.blogspot.co.uk/2015/06/a-sexy-delight-mysexysaturday.html
https://velvetpanic2.wordpress.com/
http://victoriaadams.blogspot.com/
http://myeroticnotions.blogspot.com/
https://authoramandabretz.wordpress.com/?p=2961
http://writingdreams.net/?s=my+sexy+saturd%E2%80%A6+dream+reunion&search_404=1
http://forromanceloversonly.blogspot.ca/
https://shaunaknightauthorartist.wordpress.com/2015/06/20/sneak-peek-the-truth-upon-her-lips
http://www.jennahscott.com/
http://www.lynncrain.blogspot.co.uk/
http://tamsinflowers.com/2015/06/20/youve-been-a-bad-pony/
http://saradanielromance.blogspot.co.uk/
http://colettesaucier.blogspot.co.uk/
https://scarlethawthorne.wordpress.com/
http://writeraprilkelley.blogspot.co.uk/
http://blog.thiannad.com/2015/06/mss-6-20.html
http://pickagenrealready.blogspot.co.uk/2015/06/ACBest.html
https://authorcatherinelievens.wordpress.com/
http://haleywhitehall.com/my-sexy-saturday-ghost-romance
http://celinesdreams.blogspot.co.uk/
http://demelzacarlton.com/?p=3316
http://christianefrance.blogspot.ca/
http://www.christinaphillips.blogspot.com.au/
http://dlindunauthor.blogspot.co.uk/
http://titlemagic.blogspot.co.uk/

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A Kiss for a Highlander

6/6/2015

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I'm so excited that A Kiss for a Highlander, Book One in the Georgian Rebel Series, will be published by Samhain Publishing on June 9th! Here is a taste of what's to come...

A passion that burns away centuries of hate…

Stranded in the heart of England after Bonnie Prince Charlie’s hasty retreat, highlander Fraser Lachlan has sworn to stay by his injured friend’s side. But when a kindly English family takes Jack in to be cared for by the governess and healer at their Derbyshire estate, Fraser can only watch helplessly.
It’s just a matter of time before Jack is turned over to the Crown as a traitor, but Fraser’s attempt to rescue his friend is met with the blunt end of a candlestick.
Martha Wantage wears every reason she hates the Scots on her body—in the scars from a violent, fiery attack that killed her family. Now she has not only one unconscious Jacobite rebel at her mercy, but two. And she can’t resist cursing her enemy with the “kiss of hate”.
That kiss unleashes a storm of passion that rages quickly out of control. But with the legacy of Martha’s scars weighing heavy on her mind, and Fraser’s duty calling him to Culloden Moor, it may be too late to explore whether theirs is a desire borne of hate…or love.

Excerpt
Cautiously, Martha made her way down the cellar steps. Because there were no windows, she carried a branch of candles into the dark space with her, holding it at shoulder height. She was able to view the whole of the cellar in the flickering light. Several centuries’ worth of clutter accumulated by the Delacourt family crowded the area. Broken or discarded furniture, old chests and stacks of picture frames lined the walls. To one as organised as Martha, the cellar had always been the cause of much tongue-clucking. But for Mr. Delacourt, it was next summer’s job, and because out of sight was out of mind, she too had let it be. Now that it needed to do double duty as a prison cell, she viewed it afresh and found it most unsatisfactory.
Her prisoner had not been obliging enough to die in the night, although he continued to lie still and quiet. Exactly as she had left him. A jolt of compassion—unexpected and unwanted—shot through her. It was one thing to kill him outright in the heat of the moment as, having broken into the house, he was in the act of attacking Rosie. It would be quite another to leave him to die like an injured animal on the dusty floor of the cellar. Even if he was a Scotsman. The wound to the back of his head, encrusted now with dried blood, was vicious. In the gloom of the candlelight, his strong features appeared lifeless. Pursing her lips, Martha considered him for a moment and then went away to fetch what she needed.
On her return, she set about cleaning the blood from the gash the candlestick had made in the back of his skull. Her task was hampered by the poor light, the fact that she had to kneel on the cellar floor, and the length and thickness of his red-gold hair. When she had completed this undertaking to her satisfaction, she sat back and surveyed her handiwork grimly. Having never been called upon to hit anyone over the head before, it had been difficult to judge the amount of force required. In the cold light of day, it would appear she had been somewhat heavy-handed. The injury was severe, and when he recovered—if he recovered—he would have a nasty headache and a lasting scar.
“It is quite your own fault for invading other people’s countries and then breaking into their houses,” she told the figure on the floor. It was the same voice she used to scold young Harry for his youthful transgressions.
She uncorked the little bottle of ointment that she made herself from an old recipe of her mother’s, using a mix of honey, rosemary, arnica and other herbs in differing quantities. Since the highlander’s shoulder-length hair was going to seriously hamper her efforts to apply this salve to his wound, she took up her scissors and hacked at the thickly waving locks until she was satisfied. Carefully, she pressed the sticky, scented mixture in and around the laceration. Finally, she placed a torn strip of cloth over the wound and bound another, longer strip, around his head. This she tied in place to hold the whole secure.
The cellar was chilly, and she covered the long, well-muscled figure with the blanket she had brought with her, tucking it neatly around and underneath him. A bitter smile touched her lips as she recalled her childhood in the border town of Bamburgh. Thank the Lord my father is not here to see me take such tender care of a hated Scotsman!
Mindful of the need to give him water, Martha dipped a cotton pad into the jug she had brought with her and wiped it around and inside the man’s lips. She couldn’t help noticing that his face was very handsome, with finely crafted features and a strong, square jaw. His mouth was particularly beautiful, carved as though modelled on a painting by a grand master, with a lower lip that was just slightly fuller than perfection demanded. Without pausing to consider what she was doing or why she was doing it, she allowed her thumb to trace the plump cushion of that lip. It felt like silk against her skin. Succumbing to another overwhelming impulse, she leaned over and pressed her lips to his.
“Better a wound in love from a friend than a kiss in hate from an enemy.” It was her father’s version of the Bible verse. The wound she had bestowed on him had not been one of love or of friendship. “And, oh, how I hate you, Scots bastard.” The words were a barely whispered breath into the warmth of that near-perfect mouth. The kiss of hate she gave now was for him, his kin and his countrymen. The men who had destroyed her family and left her own body scarred and grotesque. The men who had condemned her forever to her lonely spinsterhood.

A Kiss for a Highlander can pre-ordered now from Samhain Publishing (where you can read another sneak peek): 
https://www.samhainpublishing.com/book/5459/a-kiss-for-a-highlander 

A Kiss for a Highlander is also available to pre-order from Amazon:
http://www.amazon.com/Kiss-Highlander-Georgian-Rebel-ebook/dp/B00SKPXX7Y/

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Georgian Celebrities - Stand and Deliver (Dick Turpin) 

4/25/2015

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On 7th April 1739, notorious highwayman Dick Turpin was hanged for the crimes of cattle and sheep stealing, robbery with violence, and murder at Knavesmire in York.

Richard Turpin was born in 1705 in the Blue Bell Inn, Hempstead, the son of John Turpin, whose trades included butchery, farming and inn-keeping, and Mary Elizabeth Parmenter. Dick was the fifth out of their six children and, as a young man, he completed an apprenticeship as a butcher, in the Whitechapel area of London. He set up in business for himself in Essex. Sources claim that his father had links with smuggling and it is possible that young Dick spent his childhood in immersed in crime.

Once established as a butcher, Turpin forged a relationship with a local gang, alternatively known as the Gregory Gang and the Essex Gang, who specialised in poaching deer and other livestock theft. Through this means, he was able to supplement his legitimate butchery business. There are unsubstantiated claims that Turpin married Elizabeth Millington in 1725.

At some point, around 1734, Turpin abandoned his butcher's business in favour of his more profitable criminal activities, and set up as an inn-keeper. Towards the end of that year, the gang had progressed to burglary, mainly of local farms. It has never been proved that Turpin played an active role in these robberies. 

By the end of January 1735, Turpin was known to be involved in house theft after turning up at the home of a Mr Sheldon, masked and armed with four members of the gang. Further robberies, each increasingly violent, occurred within the space of a few weeks. During one such crime, the house-holder was stripped of his lower clothing and had his buttocks burned over the fire, while a maid-servant was raped. This robbery netted the gang £30 and led to the Duke of Newcastle offering a reward of £50 for any information leading to their capture.

Some members of the gang were captured. One was shot and died later in prison, others were tried, convicted and hung as a result of the evidence laid against them by gang member John Wheeler. Wheeler was released after betraying the rest of the gang and died in 1738, in Hackney. No cause of death was recorded, although rumour suggested that his death was the result of retaliation by Turpin.

Following the loss of his gang, Turpin appeared to lie low for a while. In May 1737, he was involved in two fatal shootings within a matter of days. Thomas Morris, a game-keeper, was shot in cold blood after confronting Turpin in Epping Forest. Matthew or Tom King (sources vary), Turpin’s new accomplice, was killed in an attempted capture. While the evidence over who caused King’s death is debatable, the bullet was fired either by Turpin or Richard Bayes, landlord of the inn where the shooting occurred. Bayes's original statement implicated Turpin in King's murder but was later amended. It was generally accepted at the time that King’s death was accidental. 

Following the death of King, Turpin changed his name to John Palmer and moved to Yorkshire. After several crime free months, Turpin was caught up in a minor incident when he shot the cockerel of a John Robinson, in the street. In the following argument, John Palmer threatened to shoot Robinson too. The constabulary were called and Palmer was escorted to Beverly House of Correction. He was later transferred to York Castle, after it was suspected Palmer was living off illegal earnings. A letter he wrote to his brother, for which his brother refused to pay the postage, was opened by a judge. The hand-writing identified by his former teacher, James Smith. It was clear that Palmer was none other than Dick Turpin. 

On March 22nd 1739, Turpin appeared at York Assizes charged with 3 charges of horse theft. Turpin had no formal defence and claimed that he had not known where or when the trial was to take place, therefore he had been unable to prepare his defence or produce witnesses. Nevertheless, the judge found Turpin guilty and sentenced him to death. 

On April 7th, dressed in a new jacket and shoes and escorted by a group of five hired mourners, Turpin was taken to Knavesmire, where he gave an overly long speech. The executioner finally cut this short. Turpin threw himself from the scaffold, depriving the executioner of his moment of glory. After five minutes on a short drop rope, Turpin died of suffocation. Following confirmation of his death, Turpin’s remains were taken away and interred, allegedly in St George’s churchyard, Fishergate. Since he had been convicted on charges of horse theft but not that of highway robbery, Turpin was spared the usual post-mortem practice of his remains being displayed either in chains or gibbet around the city. 

As time has passed, the legend of notorious highwayman, Dick Turpin has seen him grow into something of an eighteenth century Robin Hood. While there may have been occasions where he robbed travellers, his main focus seems to have been poaching, theft of animals, and burglary with violence. The legendary 200 mile ride from London to York that caused the death of his beloved horse Black Bess, appears to be entirely fictional. It may be based on a similar story in which 17th century highwayman John “Swift Nick” Nevison rode through the day from London to York, in order to provide himself with an unshakable alibi after committing a robbery. He made his way to a bowling green and engaged the Mayor in conversation, placing a bet on the outcome of the match. When subsequently arrested for the crime, he produced the mayor as his witness. The judge agreed there was no possibility of a man being able to cover the journey in 16 hours on a horse and Nevison was released. 

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Sexy Me Twice ~ @MySexySaturday #MySexySaturday #Saturday7 #MSSAuthors #MSS89

4/25/2015

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Welcome to the 89th week of My Sexy Saturday!

This week’s theme is Sexy Me Twice, where just once is not enough. Think lovers who can’t get enough of each other. Who spend every waking moment together. And in a very sexy way.

As authors, we love to weave tales to enchant our readers, to entice you and to leave you with that ‘ah’ moment through the way characters interact. Sexiness can happen anywhere, anytime, day or night. Our characters fall in love in many different ways. It might be on a date, at a school dance, on a hike, with the boy or girl next door, anywhere two - or sometimes more people or beings - are drawn together because of that feeling called love.

We want to show you, our readers, those special moments where our characters realise there is an emotional bond between them. It can happen on an average day, during the night, in the middle of a zombie or viking invasion,  or maybe a place where it’s hard to tell the day from the night like in a submarine or deep in space. One thing we do know is it has to be special.


The rules of My Sexy Saturday are simple. The post must be 7 paragraphs or 7 sentences or 7 words only.

My excerpt this week comes from Darkness Unchained, the third book in The Jago Legacy Series. Sexy me Twice is the perfect theme for this book not only because the past is directing so many of the characters lives, but also because Annie, the heroine, is torn between two men. 

Excerpt
“Come here.” He held out a hand. I knew from the tone of command that it was not my own Uther who spoke. I shivered in erotic anticipation. He took my face in his hands and gazed at me. “I wish I didn’t have to go to London tomorrow, my sweet. It’s a damned nuisance.” He ran his thumb slowly across my lower lip as though testing its texture. “Do you remember our first kiss?” He laughed softly. “But of course you do. It was better than sex, or what passes for sex for most people. Not for us, of course.” 

He lowered his head and parted my lips with his, drawing my tongue into his mouth and suckling it gently. I clung to him, lost in the emotions he instantly aroused in me, not pausing in that instant to wonder why it was this incarnation of him who could make me feel this way. “When we make love, it will be our awakening."

“I want the memory of your body to warm my journey tomorrow, Annie. I want to recall your perfect breasts.” 

His fingers tugged impatiently at the cotton of my nightdress, and obediently, I pulled it over my head. The flare of lust in his eyes drove away any momentary embarrassment I might have felt. 

“And the curve of your hips.” Obediently, I slid my panties down and stepped out of them. 

“I want a memory of your nipple growing hard beneath my tongue.” He matched the action to his words. “Sit here.” I moved to the edge of the bed, and he knelt before me, holding my knees apart. “I want to remember your scent when I am forced to breathe the smog of London.” He bent his head and pressed his face against the base of my stomach. My muscles clenched. His wicked smile flashed as he looked up at me again. “And I want the taste of you on my tongue the whole time we are apart. The whole time, Annie.” 

His tongue traced a downward path, pausing to lightly flick and stroke before moving lower to dart deep inside me. Coherent thought was lost to me then, and I fell back onto the bed, giving myself up to pure, maddening sensation.

Darkness Unchained is available from Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Darkness-Unchained-Jago-Legacy-Book-ebook/dp/B00UTUMGF8/

If you want to find out more about My Sexy Saturday, please follow this link: 
http://mysexysaturday.blogspot.co.uk/2015/04/sexy-me-twice-mysexysaturday.html

Don't forget to check out this week's other My Sexy Saturday Bloggers!
http://bronwynheeley.blogspot.co.uk/2015/04/mysexysaturday-week-89.html
http://calliopesotherwritingtablet.blogspot.co.uk/
http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/my-sexy-saturday/my-sexy-saturday-68-i-need-you-and-everything-that-goes-with-you-mysexysaturday/
http://myeroticnotions.blogspot.com/
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Are You Sexy? ~ @MySexySaturday #MySexySaturday #Saturday7 #MSSAuthors #MSS87

4/10/2015

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It's Saturday and that can mean only one thing...welcome to the 87th week of My Sexy Saturday!

This week’s theme is 'Are You Sexy?' and it's all about those characters who are sexy and very comfortable about it. They’re comfortable about being in their own skin, being the best at something, heck, they’re comfortable at almost everything. But there is one thing they haven't yet quite mastered: love. They are those characters who exude sexy, have a large following but haven’t yet found that special someone. Once they do, it’ll be all over for them because they will only want to be sexy for them and no one else.

Every reader can relate to these characters and understand just what a burden it can be to have everything set in life yet feel something is missing (sigh!). As authors it is our job to weave our tales to enchant you, to entice you and to leave you with that ‘ah’ moment through the way our characters interact with words. Sexiness can happen anywhere, anytime, day or night. People fall in love in many different ways. It might be on a date, at a school dance, on a hike, with the boy or girl next door, just anywhere two or sometimes more people or beings are drawn together because of that feeling called love. The one thing we do know is, on My Sexy Saturday, it’s going to be hot…hot…HOT!

The rules of My Sexy Saturday are simple. The post must be 7 paragraphs or 7 sentences or 7 words only.

My excerpt this week comes from Echoes in the Darkness, the second book in the Jago Legacy Series. Cad Jago is one of those characters who exudes sexy, until he meets his match...

Excerpt
The stranger was concentrating on caressing my breast and did not reply. His eyes remained locked on mine as, very gently, he lifted the piece of ice and used it to draw a circle around my already sensitised nipple. My back arched and I bit my lip as a maddeningly wonderful bolt of pain shot through me. 


He moved his hand to my right breast and repeated the process. I wanted to scream. But I wasn’t sure if I wanted to scream at him to stop, or because I never wanted the velvet torture of his touch to end. “It’s funny,” he observed casually. “I thought from a distance that, because your eyes are so dark, they must be brown. But now I see they are the exact shade of the heart of a purple pansy. And,” he added, leaning closer so that Claude and Maurice couldn’t hear, “now you are aroused, there are thunderclouds of passion looming just below the surface.” His French was perfect, but there was a faint trace of an accent.   


He rose abruptly, brushing back the lock of hair that flopped forward to caress his brow. “Just use the ice when you need to,” he instructed me, indicating the glass next to the chaise. “That should keep Claude here quiet while he gets his masterpiece started.” He began to walk away toward the door and I lay back, unable to speak. I was completely stunned by the effect he had on me. My nipples were throbbing painfully, a sensation that had nothing whatsoever to do with the ice. Pausing with his hand on the door handle, he flashed that incredible smile my way once more. But his words were directed at Claude, “Do tell our mutual friend I was looking for him. And that he can’t hide forever. I will find him.” Then he was gone. 


Throughout the remainder of that sultry, cloud-dulled afternoon, my whole body thrummed with longing. Even Claude’s posturing and Maurice’s rattling, self-absorbed conversation could not pierce the bubble of my anticipation. A drizzling rain had begun to fall by the time I left the tiny attic apartment and stepped into a darkening evening. Sure enough, my golden-eyed stranger was lounging against a gatepost across the street. Just as I knew he would be. His hands were dug deep in his coat pockets, and a brooding, haunted look lowered his brow. I went and stood before him, so close that, when we both breathed out at the same time, our bodies touched. The spicy undertones of his cologne made my nostrils twitch appreciatively. He cupped my face in his hands, studying me intently. 


“My God,” he said in English. “You are the most perfect thing I have ever seen.”


“Finish what you started,” I whispered, also in English. And, obligingly, he pulled me to him, crushing me against his chest and bruising my lips with the intensity of his kiss. Dragging me along with him by the hand, he propelled us with long, urgent strides down the narrow, cobbled street. Because we had to stop to kiss under every streetlamp, by the time we reached his apartment, I was soaked to the skin and half-crazy with lust.     


There were twelve stairs leading to his door. I know because he stopped to remove a piece of my wet clothing on every stair. By the time we crashed through the door of his two-room apartment, I was clad only in my underwear. Without removing his lips from mine, he slammed the door closed with one hand and shoved me hard against the wall. In one swift movement, he hauled my petticoat skirts up around my waist and dragged my bloomers down. I fumbled desperately with the buttons on his trousers and, as soon as I had freed him, taut and throbbing, from the restraining cloth, he lifted me so that could I wrap my legs around his waist. My shoulders slammed repeatedly against the wall as, buttocks pumping in a relentless rhythm, he drove himself hard into me. We rocked frantically together and, within seconds, I was gasping as wave upon wave of ecstasy shuddered through me. He jerked violently and groaned as his own orgasm tore him apart, pressing his face into the curve of my neck and muttering something appreciative, but unintelligible.

Echoes in the Darkness is available from Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Echoes-Darkness-Jago-Legacy-Book-ebook/dp/B00TIYMC0K/ref=sr_1_14?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1424611321&sr=1-14&keywords=echoes+in+the+darkness
    
If you want to find out more about My Sexy Saturday, please follow this link: 
http://mysexysaturday.blogspot.co.uk/2015/04/are-you-sexy-mysexysaturday.html

Don't forget to check out this week's other My Sexy Saturday Bloggers!
http://bronwynheeley.blogspot.co.uk/2015/04/mysexysaturday-week-87.html
http://sjmaylee.com/
http://victoriaadams.blogspot.com/
http://myeroticnotions.blogspot.com/
http://www.markofthestars.com/wp/
http://lilyharlem.blogspot.co.uk/2015/04/are-you-sexy-mysexysaturday.html
http://calliopesotherwritingtablet.blogspot.co.uk/
http://saradanielromance.blogspot.co.uk/2015/04/mysexysaturday-are-you-sexy.html
https://authorcatherinelievens.wordpress.com/
http://www.jdfaver.com/blog
http://demelzacarlton.com/?p=3200
http://www.lynncrain.blogspot.co.uk/
http://www.jennahscott.com/
http://www.christinaphillips.blogspot.com.au/
http://www.laynapimentel.com/news/
http://forromanceloversonly.blogspot.ca/
http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/my-sexy-saturday/my-sexy-saturday-66-youve-got-five-minutes-sit-down-mysexysaturday/
http://dlindunauthor.blogspot.co.uk/
http://barefootatmidnight.blogspot.co.uk/
http://janeleopoldquinn.blogspot.co.uk/2015/04/my-sexy-saturday-keeper-mysexysaturday.html
http://pamlabud.net/
http://christianefrance.blogspot.ca/
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http://angelvoisen.blogspot.co.uk/2015/04/are-you-sexy-mysexysaturday.html
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http://www.shelleymunro.com/blog/


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Georgian Celebrities - Casanova, Histoire de Ma Vie

4/4/2015

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I will begin with this confession: whatever I have done in the course of my life, whether it be good or evil, has been done freely; I am a free agent. 
Casanova

In my last post about Giovanni Giacomo Casanova 
http://www.janegodmanauthor.com/blog/georgian-celebrities-be-the-flame-not-the-moth
we saw the free-spirited charmer forced to flee Venice after he dug up a corpse as a prank and was accused of rape. 

Casanova then commenced a wanderer's life as he travelled across Europe to Paris, Prague, Vienna and Dresden, earning his living in any way he could. He worked as a violinist and became a Mason returning to Venice to start a new career as a magician, alchemist and general occultist. 

He was found guilty of witchcraft in 1755, and sentenced to serve 5 years in prison. In October of 1756 he escaped and fled to Paris. There, an account of his amorous exploits appeared in a pamphlet, and Casanova was instantly famous. Calling himself Jacques Casanova, Chevalier de Seingalt, he found further success as a gambler.

During this period, Casanova travelled extensively, using his considerable charm and gambling winnings to support himself. His financial resources didn’t last long. In an effort to escape his growing number of creditors, Casanova fled from Paris in 1760, traveling as the Chevalier de Seingalt. He was constantly on the move, from Germany to Switzerland, to southern France and on to Florence and Rome. 

He was finally allowed to return to Venice in the early 1770s, where he acted as a spy for the Venetian inquisitors of state from 1774 to 1782.

From 1785 to 1798, Casanova lived in Bohemia, working as a librarian in the chateau of Dux, where he died aged 73. He ensured his legacy would be remembered by writing his autobiography, Histoire de Ma Vie. The book is a highly acclaimed portrait of the Enlightenment society in continental European and a vivid account of Casanova’s encounters with the celebrities of his time, including Pope Clement XIII, Voltaire, Rousseau and Mozart. It also details Casanova’s endless erotic exploits.

There is no doubt that Casanova led a dissolute lifestyle. His was a free-spirited existence filled with wild adventure and scandal. He flirted with the truth in the same way he flirted with women. His name is synonymous with libertine and womaniser. Yet he continues to win hearts and fascinate today.  Somehow I think that the man who said 'Economy in pleasure is not to my taste' would be happy with his legacy. 

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A Long Sexy Time ~ @MySexySaturday #MySexySaturday #Saturday7 #MSSAuthors #MSS86

4/3/2015

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Welcome to the 86th week of My Sexy Saturday.

This week’s theme is A Long Sexy Time and it’s about those who have loved one another for a long time. This love could have started when they were children, when they were dating or even from afar. The point is that one character has loved the other for what seems like forever. In some stories, it might actually be forever. It may be unrequited love or a love whose time has yet to come.

The rules of My Sexy Saturday are simple. The post must be 7 paragraphs or 7 sentences or 7 words only.

My 7 paragraph excerpt this week is from Echoes in the Darkness, the second book in the Jago Legacy Series. In this book the heroine, Dita Varga, had a passionate encounter twelve months ago that changed her life. She can't forget him...despite the fact that she doesn't even know his name. 
Echoes in the Darkness Excerpt

There were twelve stairs leading to his door. I know because he stopped to remove a piece of my wet clothing on every stair. By the time we crashed through the door of his two-room apartment, I was clad only in my underwear. Without removing his lips from mine, he slammed the door closed with one hand and shoved me hard against the wall. In one swift movement, he hauled my petticoat skirts up around my waist and dragged my bloomers down. I fumbled desperately with the buttons on his trousers and, as soon as I had freed him, taut and throbbing, from the restraining cloth, he lifted me so that could I wrap my legs around his waist. My shoulders slammed repeatedly against the wall as, buttocks pumping in a relentless rhythm, he drove himself hard into me. We rocked frantically together and, within seconds, I was gasping as wave upon wave of ecstasy shuddered through me. He jerked violently and groaned as his own orgasm tore him apart, pressing his face into the curve of my neck and muttering something appreciative, but unintelligible.

When our mutual trembling had subsided slightly, he carried me, with my legs still wound around his waist, into the bedroom and tumbled us both onto the bed.      

“Where are you from?” he asked later, when, having removed what was left of our clothing, we lay wrapped in each other’s arms. He slid an admiring hand down the curve of my waist and over my naked buttocks as he spoke.

I paused. Had I really almost blurted out the truth? I had to be careful not to allow this burning attraction to cause me to lower my guard. “I came here from Austria.” The words came out on a sigh as his long fingers parted my legs and slid inside me.

“You accent does not sound Austrian,” he stated, the distant politeness of his tone contrasting with the relentless pressure of his thumb on my clitoris.

“My mother was English,” I gasped. It was very difficult to remain aloof and evasive in the circumstances. He started to kiss my neck, and, hovering on the brink of orgasm, I found I couldn’t speak anymore.

“Well, wherever you are from, it’s very nice to meet you,” he murmured, as, with strong, commanding hands, he turned me onto my stomach and raised my buttocks. In the same movement, he positioned himself between my legs and replaced his questing fingers with the iron-hard length of his cock. I came instantly, screaming with pleasure as, holding my hips steady, he thrust in and out of my shuddering body.   

Echoes in the Darkness is available from Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Echoes-Darkness-Jago-Legacy-Book-ebook/dp/B00TIYMC0K/ref=sr_1_14?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1424611321&sr=1-14&keywords=echoes+in+the+darkness

If you want to find out more about My Sexy Saturday, please follow this link: 
http://mysexysaturday.blogspot.co.uk/2015/03/a-long-sexy-time-mysexysaturday.html

Don't forget to check out this week's other My Sexy Saturday Bloggers!
http://victoriaadams.blogspot.com/
http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/my-sexy-saturday/my-sexy-saturday-65-a-long-sexy-time-mysexysaturday/
http://myeroticnotions.blogspot.com/
http://www.markofthestars.com/wp/
http://www.shelleymunro.com/blog/
http://www.jdfaver.com/blog
http://pamlabud.net/
http://kckendricks.blogspot.co.uk/
http://bronwynheeley.blogspot.co.uk/2015/04/mysexysaturday-week-86.html
http://lilyharlem.blogspot.co.uk/2015/04/a-long-sexy-time-mysexysaturday.html
http://alexisduranblog.com/
http://maxinedouglasauthor.blogspot.co.uk/
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http://dlindunauthor.blogspot.co.uk/
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http://vickiannbush.blogspot.co.uk/
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http://angelvoisen.blogspot.co.uk/2015/04/a-long-sexy-time-mysexysaturday.html
http://ashebarker.com/2015/04/04/mysexysaturday%E2%80%A6long-time-sexy
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http://www.lisacarlislebooks.com/temptation-returns-mysexysaturday-mss86/
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http://www.carlycarson.com/blog/sexy-saturday/
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http://reilygarrett.blogspot.co.uk/2015/04/my-sexy-saturday-week-86.html
http://shylawolff.blogspot.co.uk/2015/04/my-sexy-saturday-week-86.html
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http://christianefrance.blogspot.ca/
http://katyaarmock.com/blog/
http://maxinedouglasauthor.blogspot.co.uk/
http://angeladrake.blogspot.co.uk/2015/04/my-sexy-saturday-my-sexy-tomorrow.html
http://writingdreams.net/?s=my+sexy+saturday+a+trip+with+betty+howard&search_404=1
http://pickagenrealready.blogspot.co.uk/2015/04/lost.html
http://arlenehittle.com/mysexysaturday-a-long-sexy-time
http://titlemagic.blogspot.co.uk/
http://www.morticiaknight.com/

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Sexy Me Once ~ @MySexySaturday #MySexySaturday #Saturday7 #MSSAuthors #MSS82

3/6/2015

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Welcome to the 82nd week of My Sexy Saturday!

Remember the song that has the lyric ‘Kiss me once and kiss me twice and kiss me once again, it’s been a long, long time”? That was the inspiration for this week's theme, and it's perfect for my Jago Legacy books with their recurring theme of reincarnation and dark passion that lasts through the centuries!

The My Sexy Saturday bloggers are addicted to love and all its many facets. Sexiness can happen anywhere, anytime, day or night. People fall in love in many different ways. It could be on a date, at a school dance, on a hike, with the boy or girl next door, just anywhere two or sometimes more people or beings are drawn together because of that feeling called love.

We all want to read about those special moments where our characters realize there is an emotional bond between them. It can happen on an average day, during the night, in the middle of a zombie invasion or maybe a place where it’s hard to tell the day from the night like in a submarine or deep in space. The one thing we do know it’s going to sizzle!

The rules of My Sexy Saturday are simple. The post must be 7 paragraphs or 7 sentences or 7 words only. My own Sexy Saturday contribution this week is a 7 paragraph excerpt from, Legacy of Darkness, the first book in The Jago Legacy Series. 

Excerpt
Slowly, I undid each of the tiny buttons. He did not take his eyes from my face. When my shirt was completely undone, he reached out and slid it from my shoulders. I swallowed the sudden constriction that appeared in my throat as, taking his time, he studied my high, pointed breasts.
 
“Very pretty,” he said at last.

I bit my lip. “Too small,” I whispered, hanging my head.

Reaching out a leisurely hand, he placed it over my right breast. “Not so. See how my hand covers your breast so completely? Just as if they were made to fit perfectly together.” His voice was detached, as though he were still discussing the weather. “I like the way your nipple springs to life at my touch and presses itself so insistently into my palm, demanding more. Which you shall have.” A wicked smile crossed his features. “Take off your skirt.”
I did not hesitate, such was the hypnotic power he had over me. I stood shyly before him in just my cotton bloomers. With deft fingers, Uther loosened my hair so that it tumbled about my shoulders and down my back. 

“But you are beautiful, Lucia,” he said hoarsely, sliding a finger under my chin and tilting my face up to meet his eyes. I melted against him, a soft, sighing groan escaping me. His hands slid inside the waistband of my bloomers and down to cup my buttocks. I nearly swooned.

“Before we go any further,” he said, pushing me from him slightly, his large hands almost spanning my waist. “I want to explain something. I am not going to take your virginity, Lucy…not yet, anyway. I have my own reasons for that reticence, which need not concern you. But fear not. You have been longing for this, I know. And I am going to give you what you want. I will make you scream with delight, that much I can promise.” 

Matching actions to words, he slid my drawers down as he spoke and lifted me, naked and trembling with wanton anticipation, onto his lap.

Legacy of Darkness is available from Amazon: 
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00TG2HV0U

If you want to find out more about My Sexy Saturday, please follow this link: http://mysexysaturday.blogspot.co.uk/2015/03/sexy-me-once-mysexysaturday.html 

Don't forget to check out this week's other My Sexy Saturday Bloggers!
http://bronwynheeley.blogspot.co.uk/2015/03/mysexysaturday-week-82.html
http://calliopesotherwritingtablet.blogspot.co.uk/
http://tiffanyleeauthor.blogspot.co.uk/2015/03/our-sexy-kiss.html
https://authorcatherinelievens.wordpress.com/
http://pamlabud.net/
http://www.darahlace.blogspot.co.uk/
http://arielstorm.blogspot.co.uk/
http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/my-sexy-saturday/my-sexy-saturday-61-sexy-me-once-mysexysaturday/
http://lilyharlem.blogspot.co.uk/2015/03/sexy-me-once-mysexysaturday.html
https://authoramandabretz.wordpress.com/
http://www.shelleymunro.com/blog/
http://angelvoisen.blogspot.co.uk/2015/03/sexy-me-once-mss-82.html
https://snippetsandsneaks.wordpress.com/
http://www.markofthestars.com/wp/
http://vickiannbush.blogspot.co.uk/
http://keithandersonblog.blogspot.co.uk/2015/03/my-sexy-saturday-the-game
http://demelzacarlton.com/?p=3188
http://alexisduranblog.com/
http://christianefrance.blogspot.ca/
http://ashebarker.com/2015/03/07/mysexysaturday%E2%80%A6nquered-brides
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http://forromanceloversonly.blogspot.ca/
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http://www.wendyely.blogspot.co.uk/
http://www.melissakeir.com/blog
http://margobondcollins.com/2015/03/07/my-sexy-saturday-hop/
http://titlemagic.blogspot.co.uk/
http://greatgayfiction.blogspot.co.uk/
http://www.stormiekent.com/blog
https://dravenstjames.wordpress.com/


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Georgian Celebrities - Be the Flame not the Moth

3/2/2015

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'I loved, I was loved, my health was good, I had a great deal of money, and I spent it, I was happy and I confessed it to myself.' 

With a name that is synonymous with the art of seduction, his amorous adventures are legendary. Casanova befriended royalty, popes and cardinals, as well the celebrities of his day including Voltaire, Goethe and Mozart. So, how did the world’s first playboy start out in life? 

At the time of Casanova's birth, the Republic of Venice was the pleasure capital of Europe. It was a favourite haunt of young Englishmen taking part in the Grand Tour. The glittering Carnival, abundant gambling houses, and beautiful courtesans were powerful attractions. This was Casanova’s world and he was to become its product, and most famous citizen. 

Giacomo Girolamo Casanova was born in Venice in 1725, in the San Samuele neighbourhood. His mother was actress Zanetta Farussi, who was married to actor and dancer Gaetano Giuseppe Casanova. Giacomo was the first of six children. Because of his mother's profession, it is suspected that some, or all, were fathered by men other than her husband. In his memoirs, Casanova stated his conviction that his real father was Michele Grimani, a member of a noble family and owner of the San Samuele theatre where Zanetta and Gaetano performed. 

Casanova was brought up by his grandmother Marzia Baldissera while his mother toured Europe. His father died when he was eight. On his ninth birthday, Casanova was sent to a boarding house on the mainland in Padua. ‘So they got rid of me,’ he said. 

He was then placed in the care of Abbé Gozzi, who tutored him and taught him to play the violin. It was in the Gozzi household that Casanova first encountered the opposite sex. He described Bettina, Gozzi’s sister, as ‘pretty, lighthearted, and a great reader of romances. ... The girl pleased me at once, though I had no idea why. It was she who little by little kindled in my heart the first sparks of a feeling which later became my ruling passion.’ 

Casanova was quick witted, with an intense appetite for knowledge and a perpetually inquisitive mind. He entered the University of Padua at twelve and graduated at seventeen with a degree in law ‘for which I felt an unconquerable aversion’. He had also studied moral philosophy, chemistry, and mathematics, and was keenly interested in medicine ‘I should have been allowed to do as I wished and become a physician, in which profession quackery is even more effective than it is in legal practice’. While at university, Casanova developed his loved of gambling and quickly got into debt. 

Back in Venice, Casanova was admitted as an abbé. By now, he had become something of a dandy. He was tall and dark, and wore his long hair powdered, scented, and elaborately curled. He quickly befriended a 76-year-old Venetian senator Alvise Gasparo Malipiero. Malipiero moved in the best circles and taught the young Casanova a great deal about good food and wine, and how to behave in society. When Casanova was caught dallying with the actress Teresa Imer – for whom the senator himself had a fancy - the senator threw them both out of his house. Casanova’s growing curiosity about women led to his first sexual experience, with sisters Nanetta and Maria Savorgnan. Casanova proclaimed that his life’s direction was set by their encounter. 

Casanova’s church career was tainted by scandal. After his grandmother’s death, he entered a seminary, but debts landed him in prison for the first time. He found employment with Cardinal Acquaviva in Rome. But, when Casanova became involved in a scandal involving a pair of star-crossed lovers, Cardinal Acquaviva dismissed him. 

In search of a new profession, Casanova bought a commission and became a military officer. His first step was to look the part: 

‘Reflecting that there was now little likelihood of my achieving fortune in my ecclesiastical career, I decided to dress as a soldier ... I inquire for a good tailor ... he brings me everything I need to impersonate a follower of Mars. ... My uniform was white, with a blue vest, a shoulder knot of silver and gold... I bought a long sword, and with my handsome cane in hand, a trim hat with a black cockade, with my hair cut in side whiskers and a long false pigtail, I set forth to impress the whole city.’ 

He found promotion too slow and his duties boring, and managed to lose most of his pay playing faro. Casanova soon abandoned his military career and returned to Venice. 

At the age of 21, Casanova decided to become a professional gambler. When he had lost all the money that was left from the sale of his commission, he turned to his old benefactor Alvise Grimani for a job. Casanova embarked on his third career, as a violinist in the San Samuele theater, ‘a menial journeyman of a sublime art in which, if he who excels is admired, the mediocrity is rightly despised. ... My profession was not a noble one, but I did not care. Calling everything prejudice, I soon acquired all the habits of my degraded fellow musicians.’ He and some of his friends, ‘often spent our nights roaming through different quarters of the city, thinking up the most scandalous practical jokes and putting them into execution ... we amused ourselves by untying the gondolas moored before private homes, which then drifted with the current’. 

Good fortune came his way when Casanova saved the life of a Venetian nobleman, who had a stroke while riding with Casanova in a gondola. The senator and his friends thought that Casanova was wise beyond his years, and that he must have knowledge of the occult. The senator invited Casanova into his household and became a lifelong patron. 

‘I took the most creditable, the noblest, and the only natural course. I decided to put myself in a position where I need no longer go without the necessities of life: and what those necessities were for me no one could judge better than me.... No one in Venice could understand how an intimacy could exist between myself and three men of their character, they all heaven and I all earth; they most severe in their morals, and I addicted to every kind of dissolute living.’ 

For the next three years, under the senator’s patronage, Casanova led the life of a nobleman, dressed magnificently, and as was natural to him, spent most of his time gambling and engaging in amorous pursuits. His patron was a tolerant man, but he warned Casanova that one day he would pay the price for his lifestyle. ‘I made a joke of his dire Prophecies and went my way.’ However, not long after this warning, Casanova dug up a freshly buried corpse in order to play a practical joke on an enemy. The victim went into paralysis and never recovered. At the same time, a young girl accused Casanova of rape. He was later acquitted of this crime because of lack of evidence, but Casanova decided it was time to leave Venice.

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My Sexy Addiction ~ @MySexySaturday #MySexySaturday #Saturday7 #MSSAuthors #MSS81

2/27/2015

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Welcome to the 81st week of My Sexy Saturday! 

This week’s theme is My Sexy Addiction. We are going to say just one thing and that’s about the song Addicted to Love. You remember it…don’t you? How about the line ‘You might as well face it you’re addicted to love’? And doesn’t that just say it all about the bloggers and authors who take part in My Sexy Saturday?

We are addicted to love and all its many facets. Sexiness can happen anywhere, anytime, day or night. People fall in love in many different ways. It could be on a date, at a school dance, on a hike, with the boy or girl next door, just anywhere two or sometimes more people or beings are drawn together because of that feeling called love.

We all want to read about those special moments where our characters realize there is an emotional bond between them. It can happen on an average day, during the night, in the middle of a zombie invasion or maybe a place where it’s hard to tell the day from the night like in a submarine or deep in space. The one thing we do know it’s going to sizzle!

The rules of My Sexy Saturday are simple. The post must be 7 paragraphs or 7 sentences or 7 words only. My own Sexy Saturday contribution this week is a 7 paragraph excerpt from, Legacy of Darkness, the first book in The Jago Legacy Series. 

Excerpt
It was as if nothing had happened between us. Uther was cool and aloof toward me, and I began to wonder if I had imagined our intimacy. Or perhaps he was regretting his actions? I was, after all, a young female relative—however distant—and dependent on him, the head of the household, for protection. His conduct toward me had not exactly been protective…or gentlemanly! I hoped it was reasons of propriety, and not the alternative—that he had no wish to repeat the experience—that prompted this new circumspection. 

My answer came a few days after our visit to Port Isaac.    

“Take your clothes off.” Uther marched into my bedchamber, slamming the door closed and turning the key in the lock. I looked up from my book in surprise. It was early evening, and he had clearly just returned from riding. Mud splattered his boots and breeches and his dark hair was in disarray. “Now,” he said coldly, his eyes narrowing with impatience. 

A discordant and highly inappropriate thought flitted through my mind. My stern governess had not bethought herself to inform me of the etiquette of an occasion such as this. How should a young lady respond when an unmarried gentleman bursts into her room and orders her to undress? This was a part of my education that had been sadly neglected. A secret smile touched my lips. I would have to improvise. I rose from my chair and began to undo the buttons at the back of my dress. Although I struggled a little, Uther did not come to my aid. He strode about the room, a slight frown marring his brow. I indicated my tightly laced corsets helplessly, and he clicked his tongue in exasperation. I held onto the bedpost, glad of its support as he roughly jerked the laces free and threw the offending corset across the room. With a swift, unexpected action, he caught hold of the fine cotton of my bloomers in both hands and ripped the delicate material apart so that the ruined garment fell about my ankles. I stepped out of it. 

“Sit here.” He indicated the small chaise that occupied a corner of the room. In thrall to that mesmerising power he had over me, I continued to do as he asked without question. He prowled the room, fetching a branch of candles and placing it close by so that I was bathed in golden, flickering light. He stepped back, studying the scene. By this time I was quivering with desire.

“Lean back,” he ordered, and I allowed my head to fall back so that my neck was exposed and my breasts tilted skyward. I already knew how much he liked my breasts. In the cottage, he had spent an inordinate amount of time admiring them from all angles, stroking, squeezing and tasting. He was fascinated at how their rose-pale tips darkened at a touch of his hand, a flick of his tongue or sometimes even a glance from those gold-flecked eyes. Pausing now, he leaned over me, placing his lips over my nipple and suckling it with infinite tenderness. I tangled my hands in his hair to hold him there, but he laughed and moved away again.

“Raise your legs.” He demonstrated what he meant by grasping one ankle and lifting my foot onto the velvet surface of the chaise. He repeated the action with the other leg and then spent long, thoughtful minutes studying me. I blushed to be so exposed to his gaze, but, at the same time, exulted at the look of pleasure in his eyes. Turning away, he brought the small hand mirror from the dressing table over to me.

“See how beautiful you are, Lucia?” He placed the mirror in my hand and angled it so that I could view my own vulva. “See how pretty and pink, like flower petals unfolding?” He used his fingers to hold my outer lips apart while I watched in fascination. “You are wet already. Can you see that, Lucia?” One long finger pressed into the slick depths and he withdrew it, holding it up to show me the moisture that glistened there. “There is nothing more beautiful. It tells me how much you want me here.” His fingers returned to delve and stroke some more. “And here.” As I watched my reflection, he circled the tiny pink bud that throbbed so insistently for his touch. I arched my back, closing my eyes in rapture. “Not yet,” he whispered. “Keep looking.” He knelt before me. “Watch as my tongue tastes this precious nectar….” 

Legacy of Darkness is available from Amazon: 
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00TG2HV0U

If you want to find out more about My Sexy Saturday, please follow this link: http://mysexysaturday.blogspot.co.uk/2015/02/my-sexy-addiction-mysexysaturday.html 

Don't forget to check out this week's other My Sexy Saturday Bloggers!
http://lilyharlem.blogspot.co.uk/2015/02/my-sexy-addiction-mysexysaturday.html
http://bronwynheeley.blogspot.co.uk/2015/02/mysexysaturday-week-81.html
http://calliopesotherwritingtablet.blogspot.co.uk/
http://sjmaylee.com/
http://www.markofthestars.com/wp/
http://colettesaucier.blogspot.co.uk/
http://tiffanyleeauthor.blogspot.co.uk/2015/02/my-sexy-addiction.html
http://reilygarrett.blogspot.co.uk/2015/02/my-sexy-saturday.html
https://authorcatherinelievens.wordpress.com/
http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/my-sexy-saturday/my-sexy-saturday-60-my-sexy-addiction-mysexysaturday/
http://www.carlycarson.com/?p=1263
http://alexisduranblog.com/
http://twentysixkeys.blogspot.co.uk/
http://angelvoisen.blogspot.co.uk/2015/02/an-addictive-sexy-saturday-mms-81.html
http://louisabacio.blogspot.co.uk/
http://ashebarker.com/2015/02/28/mysexysaturday%E2%80%A6dicted-to-love
http://lynn-crandall.com/
http://www.lynncrain.blogspot.co.uk/
http://forromanceloversonly.blogspot.ca/
https://breeguildforderotica.wordpress.com/
http://www.darahlace.blogspot.co.uk/
http://demelzacarlton.com/
http://dlindunauthor.blogspot.co.uk/
http://tmoniquestephens.com/
http://wwwdiverseviews.blogspot.co.uk/
http://janarichards.blogspot.co.uk/2015/02/my-sexy-saturday-one-more-second-chance.html
http://shylawolff.blogspot.com/b/post-preview?token=1lgkz0sBAAA.MJyKp7hd-RDiEt8uPcQMdg.5MqlE8_RC1FgckhpCExyVA&postId=8212835404050998990&
http://saradanielromance.blogspot.co.uk/2015/02/addicted-to-love-once-upon-marriage.html
http://reilygarrett.blogspot.com/b/post-preview?token=Vxkvz0sBAAA.8K8dqhNAsR_QaQ5o5TSTRQ.gs2ltCoUMFqru_wCwVgnww&postId=546400671595445998&
http://machurch00.blogspot.co.uk/
http://christianefrance.blogspot.ca/
https://fingerstothekeys.wordpress.com/
http://deeannpalmer.blogspot.co.uk/
http://margobondcollins.com/2015/02/28/my-sexy-saturday-hop-taming/
https://scarlethawthorne.wordpress.com/
http://pickagenrealready.blogspot.co.uk/2015/02/Gard.html
http://donutsdesires.blogspot.co.uk/
http://www.shelleymunro.com/blog/
http://sexyforreview.blogspot.co.uk/
http://arlenehittle.com/mysexysaturday-my-sexy-addiction
http://www.kristaames.com/
http://titlemagic.blogspot.co.uk/
https://snippetsandsneaks.wordpress.com/
https://dravenstjames.wordpress.com/
https://authoramandabretz.wordpress.com/
http://arielstorm.blogspot.co.uk/
http://amberleaeaston.blogspot.co.uk/
http://authordakotaskye.blogspot.co.uk/

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Georgian Celebrities - An introduction to Casanova

2/22/2015

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One of the real-life characters who makes a brief guest appearance in two of my books is none other than Giacomo Girolamo Casanova. I'm going to write several blog posts over the next few weeks, telling the story of Casanova's fascinating and scandalous life. This post is an introduction to one of history's most enduring and interesting characters.

Born on 2 April 1725 in Venice, Casanova was an Italian adventurer and author who is remembered best for his libertine propensities. Indeed, he has become so famous for his convoluted liaisons that his very name is used to signify a womaniser. 

Casanova used several pseudonyms, the most frequent being Chevalier de Seingalt. He also published in French under the name Jacques Casanova de Seingalt. Casanova befriended European royals, popes and cardinals, along with the celebrities of his day including Voltaire, Goethe and Mozart. 

What interests me most about Casanova, as I've been researching his life, is his easy writing style. He really is very readable. And he was able to laugh at himself. Quite a feat. He comes across as a likable man and I didn't expect to find myself warming to history's most infamous womaniser. 

He spent his last years in Bohemia, where he wrote his autobiography, 'Histoire de ma vie', which is widely acknowledged as one of the most authentic descriptions of European social life during the 18th century. He died on 4th June 1798.

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Georgian Celebrities - Madame du Deffand

2/7/2015

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'The Best Mind and the Worst Character'
I love to include real life historical characters in my books. One of these, who features in 'A Hostage for the Corsair' (a current work in progress in my Georgian Rebel Series), is the famous French salonnière, Madame du Deffand. 
Marie Anne de Vichy-Chamrond was born at the Château de Chamrond, in Ligny-en-Brionnais, daughter of a noble French family. During her schooling at a convent in Paris, she showed great intelligence and a caustic, witty turn of mind which alarmed the abbess. Her parents arranged her marriage at the age of twenty one to her kinsman, Jean Baptiste de la Lande, Marquis du Deffand, without consulting her. The marriage was an unhappy one, and the couple separated in 1722. 
Madame du Deffand is said by Horace Walpole to have been for a short time the mistress of the regent, the Duc de Orléans. She appeared to be quite incapable of forming strong attachments, but her intelligence, her cynicism and her wit made her the centre of a brilliant circle. In 1721 she began a friendship with Voltaire, with whom she later regularly corresponded. She spent much time at Sceaux, at the court of the Duchesse du Maine, where she struck up a close friendship with President Henault. In Paris the members of her salon included Voltaire, Montesquieu, Fontelle and Madame de Staal-Delaunay. Madame du Deffand is described as having the best mind and the worst character among the salonnières. She was proud, cynical, openly selfish, and one historian even referred to her as a ‘she-cat’. 
In 1752 she retired from Paris, intending to remain in the country, but she was persuaded by her friends to return. She took up residence in 1747 in apartments in the convent of Saint-Joseph in the rue Saint-Dominique. When Madame du Deffand lost her sight in 1754, she engaged a young relative, Mademoiselle de Lespinasse, to help her in entertaining. Some of the guests, including D'Alembert, preferred the society of Mademoiselle de Lespinasse leading to an arrangement where she received visitors for an hour before her patron appeared. When this was discovered in 1764, Madame du Deffand dismissed Mademoiselle de Lespinasse and the salon broke up. 
The principal friendship of Madame du Deffand’s later years was with Horace Walpole, who became the strongest and longest-lasting of all her attachments. Walpole refused at first to acknowledge their closeness due to a fear of being ridiculed because of his friend’s age. He did, however, pay several visits to Paris expressly for the purpose of enjoying her society, and maintained a close correspondence with her for fifteen years. On her death in 1780, Madame du Deffand left her dog Tonton to the care of Walpole, who was also entrusted with her papers. 
Some of the Famous Sayings of Madame du Deffand: 
1. In a letter to Horace Walpole in 1767 she says that Cardinal de Polignac, who was a great talker, had given her an account of the martyrdom of St. Denis at Montmartre, who, after his decapitation, had walked two leagues with his head in his hands. Her reply was, “The distance is nothing: it is only the first step that costs” (La distance n’y fait rien: il n’y a que le premier pas qui coûte). 
2. “The things that cannot be known to us are not necessary to us.” 
3. “Vanity ruins more women than love.” 
4. “Women are never stronger than when they arm themselves with their weakness.” 
5. She said she preferred “an old acquaintance to a new friend.” 
6. When discussing Helvétius' book On the Mind and his point that all human motives are egoistic, she remarked, "Bah, he has only revealed everyone's secret." 
7. “How happy one would be if one could throw off one’s self as one throws off others!” This was illustrated when she went out to supper on the day of the death of M. Pont-de-Veyle, an close friend for forty years. The conversation turned upon her loss: “Alas!” she said, “He died at six this evening: otherwise you would not see me here” (sans cela vous ne me verriez pas ici). 
8. When a remark was made that Voltaire, as an historian, did not have much imagination, Madame du Deffand exclaimed, “What more can you ask? He has invented history!” (Que voulez-vous de plus? Il a inventé l’histoire!). Voltaire himself, when accused of changing the circumstances of an event in the life of Charles XII for effect, appeared to support her statement. “Confess,” he was challenged, “That it did not occur as you have told it.” “Confess,” replied Voltaire, “That it is better as I have told it.”

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Georgian Celebrities - Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire

1/29/2015

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Scandal in Georgian England
William Cavendish (1746-1811) was the 5th Duke of Devonshire. He was Lord High Treasurer of Ireland, Governor of Cork and Lord Lieutenant of Derbyshire. He best known for his the scandals which surrounded his marriage to, Lady Georgiana Spencer. 
Georgiana Spencer was born in Althorp, Northamptonshire, on 7 June 1757. She was the eldest daughter of John Spencer, 1st Earl Spencer, one of the richest men in England, and Margaret Georgiana Poyntz. She had two siblings, George and Henrietta, known as Harriet, later Lady Bessborough.
By the time Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire, was twenty-two, she was the most talked about woman in England. Her novel 'The Sylph' had gone through four printings, and she had served as the model for Lady Teazle in Richard Sheridan's 'The School for Scandal'. Wax casts of her were on sale alongside likenesses of the Prince of Wales, milliners made fans decorated with her portrait and she was nearly crushed by crowds when she appeared in public places such as the pleasure gardens at Ranelagh. Her extravagant costumes, outlandish hats and hairstyles - which rose as much as three feet above her head (and might feature a ship in full sail or a pastoral scene with sheep and trees) - were more assiduously chronicled than those of any other aristocrat in England. She was the confidante, and, it was rumoured, the lover, of the country's most charismatic politician, Charles James Fox. She was also the closest friend of the debauched, attention-seeking Prince of Wales ('Prinny' to his friends). 
The vivacious Duchess of Devonshire, was 'the glass and model of fashion' and the uncontested leader of the 'ton' an amalgam of writers, actors, politicians, racy aristocrats, and libertines which, although it included less than a thousand people, set standards of taste in England during the last decades of the eighteenth century.
This willowy, russet haired beauty was, in every sense superb, except for her somewhat bulging eyes. She was also considered the most warmhearted woman in the realm. She was noted for her generosity to charities and friends alike, and famous for her capacity to make those she addressed feel as if they were the centre of the world. So it seems all the more odd that the only man who was not smitten by the Duchess was her husband, William Cavendish, fifth Duke of Devonshire. He was one of the wealthiest nobles in the nation and the owner of a magnificent art collection and many mansions (including Devonshire House and  Chatsworth). His idea of a good time was to drink and play cards with his cronies at Brooks', the exclusive club where he dined nightly, year in, year out, on broiled mutton. At the same time he was betrothed to Georgiana, the duke was conducting an affair with a former milliner, Charlotte Spencer, who bore him a daughter.
In 1782, the Duke and Duchess journeyed to Bath, where they met the fascinating Lady Elizabeth Foster. She was separated from her husband and living in straightened circumstances. She eagerly seized the opportunity to improve her situation. Lady Elizabeth, known as Bess, attached herself to Georgiana and was invited to return home with the Devonshires. Bess succeeded in making herself indispensable to both Duchess and Duke, as friend to one and mistress to the other and a strange “ménage à trois” resulted. Bess bore the Duke two illegitimate children, Caroline St Jules and Augustus Clifford, and married the Duke after Georgiana’s death.
In 1783, Georgiana, known as Little G, was born. Her sister, Harriet, known as Harryo, followed two years later, but it was not until 1790, when the hope of her ever producing an heir had almost disappeared, that William, Marquess of Hartington, known as Hart, was born.
The love of Georgiana’s life was the handsome young Whig politician, Charles Grey. She embarked upon an affair with him, but in 1791 she discovered that she was carrying his child. The Duke gave her an ultimatum - give up Grey and the child or she would never see her three children again. Grey was heartbroken when she chose her children over him.
Georgiana fled abroad giving birth to Eliza Courtney in January 1792 and then handing her over to Grey’s parents to be brought up. She was never able to openly acknowledge her, although she did visit her daughter.
Eventually, the Duke sent word that she could return and in the autumn of 1793, she arrived in England after a two year absence. For several years following her exile, Georgiana lived a quiet life. She suffered a severe eye complaint, which left her blind in one eye and her face was scarred as a result of the treatment she received.
It was not until Little G was to be launched into society that Georgiana overcame her disability and once more entertained at Devonshire House. She rekindled her friendship with the Prince of Wales and became one of his main advisors.
Georgiana died on 30 March 1806 from a liver complaint. She was buried in the family vault at St Stephen’s Church, Derby, on 8 April, and society deeply mourned her passing.

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Happy Birthday, Rabbie Burns 

1/25/2015

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My Heart's in the Highlands
My heart’s in the Highlands, my heart is not here,
My heart’s in the Highlands, a-chasing the deer;
Chasing the wild-deer, and following the roe,
My heart’s in the Highlands, wherever I go.

Farewell to the Highlands, farewell to the North,
The birth-place of Valour, the country of Worth ;
Wherever I wander, wherever I rove,
The hills of the Highlands for ever I love.

Farewell to the mountains, high-cover’d with snow,
Farewell to the straths and green vallies below;
Farewell to the forests and wild-hanging woods,
Farewell to the torrents and loud-pouring floods.

My heart’s in the Highlands, my heart is not here,
My heart’s in the Highlands, a-chasing the deer;
Chasing the wild-deer, and following the roe,
My heart’s in the Highlands, wherever I go.
Robert Burns, 1789

January 25th marks Burns Night, the annual celebration of Scotland's national poet Robert Burns. Celebrated on, or about, the Bard's birthday, celebrations include the famous Burns Suppers, which range from formal gatherings of aesthetes and scholars to uproariously informal rave-ups of drunkards and louts. Most Burns Suppers fall in the middle of this range, and adhere, more or less, to some sort of time honoured forms which include the eating of a traditional Scottish meal, the drinking of Scotch whisky, and the recitation of works by, about, and in the spirit of the Bard. It would be a strange Burns Supper indeed that did not include at least some lines from Auld Lang Syne. 

And there's a hand, my trusty fiere!
And gie's a hand o' thine!
And we'll tak' a right guid-willie waught,
For auld lang syne.


Robert Burns was born on 25 January 1759 in the village of Alloway, two miles south of Ayr. His parents, Willian Burnes and Agnes Broun, were tenant farmers but they ensured their son received a good education and he was an avid reader. 
Hard physical labour on the family farm took its toll on the young Burns, who increasingly indulged in his passions of poetry, nature, drink and women.
Burns fathered twins with the woman who was to become his wife, Jean Armour, but a rift in their relationship almost led to him emigrating to the West Indies with lover Mary Campbell (his Highland Mary). Mary's sudden death and the sensational success of his first published collection of verse kept him in Scotland. At just 27, Burns had already become famous across the country with poems such as To a Louse, To a Mouse and The Cotter's Saturday Night.
Newly hailed as the Ploughman Poet because his poems complemented the growing literary taste for romanticism and pastoral pleasures, Burns arrived in Edinburgh, where he was welcomed by a circle of wealthy and important friends.
Illicit relationships and the fathering of illegitimate children ran parallel to a productive period in his working life. His correspondence with Agnes 'Nancy' McLehose resulted in the classic Ae Fond Kiss. A collaboration with James Johnson led to a long-term involvement in The Scots Musical Museum, which included the poems including Auld Lang Syne.
In just 18 short months, Burns had spent most of the wealth from his published poetry, and in 1789 he began work as an Excise Officer in Dumfries and resumed his relationship with his wife Jean. His increasingly radical political views influenced many of the phenomenal number of poems, songs and letters he continued to pen.
The hard work this new job entailed, combined with the toil of his earlier life and dissolute lifestyle began to take their toll on Burns's health. He died on 21 July 1796 aged just 37 and was buried with full civil and military honours on the very day his son Maxwell was born. A memorial edition of his poems was published to raise money for his wife and children.

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Georgian Celebrities - William Roscoe

1/17/2015

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Who was the man who has been called 'Liverpool's greatest son'?
William Roscoe was born in Liverpool on 8th March 1753. His father, formerly a servant at Allerton Hall, was a market gardener who kept a public house called the Bowling Green in Mount Pleasant. Roscoe was largely self-educated having left school at the age of twelve. He assisted his father in the work of the garden, but spent his leisure time on reading and study. In truth, he devoted his whole life to the pursuit of learning. At fifteen he began to look for a suitable career. A month's trial of bookselling was unsuccessful, and in 1769 he was articled to a solicitor. Although a diligent student of law, he continued to read the classics, and enjoyed the language and literature of Italy which was to dominate his life.
In 1774 he went into business as a lawyer, and in 1781 married Jane, second daughter of William Griffies, a Liverpool tradesman; they had seven sons and three daughters. Roscoe had the courage to publicly denounce the African slave trade in his native town, where, at that time, a significant amount of the wealth came from slavery. 
In 1796 Roscoe gave up legal practice, and toyed with the idea of going to the bar. Between 1793 and 1800 he paid much attention to agriculture. He also succeeded in restoring to good order the affairs of a banking house in which his friend William Clark, then resident in Italy, was a partner. This led to his introduction to the business, which eventually proved disastrous.
Roscoe was elected member of parliament for Liverpool in 1806, but the House of Commons was not for him, and at the dissolution in the following year he stood down. During his brief stay however, he was able to cast his vote in favour of the successful abolition of the slave trade.
In the early 1800s, he led a group of Liverpool botanists who created the Liverpool Botanic Garden as a private garden, initially located near Mount Pleasant, which was then on the outskirts of the City. In the 1830s the garden was relocated to Wavertree Botanic Gardens.
The commercial troubles of 1816 brought into difficulties the banking house with which he was connected, and forced the sale of his collection of books and pictures. Dr SH Spiker, the king of Prussia's librarian, visited Roscoe at this difficult time. Roscoe said he still desired to write a biography of Erasmus but lacked both leisure and youth. The project was never carried out. After five years struggling to discharge the liabilities of the bank, the action of a small number of creditors forced the partners into bankruptcy in 1820. For a time Roscoe was in danger of arrest, but ultimately he received an honourable discharge. On the dispersal of his library, the volumes most useful to him were secured by friends and placed in the Liverpool Athenaeum. The sum of £2500 was also invested for his benefit.
Having now resigned commercial pursuits entirely, he took great pleasure in the arrangement of the great library at Holkham, the property of his friend Thomas Coke.
He was a prolific writer, historian and pamphleteer. Horace Walpole thought Roscoe the best of our historians, and his books on Lorenzo de'Medici and Pope Leo X remain important contributions to historical literature. His poem, Mount Pleasant, was written when he was sixteen, and together with other verses won the esteem of good critics.
The Butterfly's Ball is a fantasy poem, which has charmed thousands of children since it appeared in 1807. 
Roscoe and his wife had seven sons and three daughters, including William Stanley Roscoe,  a poet, Thomas, translator from Italian, and Henry, a legal writer who wrote his father's biography. Henry's son Henry Enfield Roscoe was a chemist and vice-chancellor of the University of London. His daughter was a poet known by her married name Mary Anne Jevons, and was the mother of William Stanley Jevons.
Throughout his life, Roscoe showed considerable moral courage as well as devotion to study.

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Georgian Celebrities - The Chevalier d'Eon 

1/10/2015

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Charles Geneviève Louis Auguste André Timothée d'Éon de Beaumont (later known as Charlotte Genevieve Louise Auguste Andree Timothee d'Eon de Beaumont) was born on 5th October 1728 in Tonnerre, Burgundy son of Louis d'Éon de Beaumont, attorney and director of the king's dominions, and Françoise de Charanton. As he grew up, d'Éon excelled at his studies. His slight, adrogynous physique led to him being known as 'petit d'Éon'. 
In 1756 d'Éon joined a network of spies called Le Secret du Roi who worked directly for King Louis XV, without the knowledge of the government, and sometimes against official policies and treaties. D'Éon was sent on a secret mission to Russia to meet with the Empress Elizabeth and liaise with the pro-French faction against the Habsburg monarchs. D'Éon disguised himself as a woman (Lea de Beaumont) to do so, and even became a maid of honour to the Empress in this guise. At the time the English would only allow women and children across the border into Russia. Given the delicate nature of the work, d'Éon had to convince everyone that he was a woman or face execution. In 1761, d'Éon returned to France and became a captain of dragoons. In 1762 he was sent to London to draft the peace treaty which was signed in Paris 10 February 1763. D'Éon later became an ambassador to London and was involved in a scandal during which he accused his successor, the Count of Guerchy of attempting to murder him. In 1766, Louis XV granted D'Éon a pension of 12,000 livres a year for his services. D'Éon continued to work as a spy, but lived in political exile in London. He possessed secret letters which protected him against action by the king but he could not return to France.
There were constant rumors that D'Éon was actually a woman, and a betting pool was started on the London Stock Exchange about his true sex. D'Éon was invited to join, but declined, saying that an examination would dishonour him. After a year without progress, the wager was abandoned. In 1774, after the death of Louis XV, d'Éon tried to negotiate a return from exile. The resulting agreement permitted D'Éon to return to France and keep his ministerial pension, but required that he turn over the secret correspondence he held.
On his return to Frnace, d'Éon declared he really was a woman, and demanded recognition by the government as such. He claimed to have been born anatomically female, but said he had been raised as a boy because Louis d'Éon de Beaumont could only inherit from his in-laws if he had a son. King Louise XVI complied, but demanded that d'Éon dress appropriately and wear women's clothing. He agreed, especially when the king granted him funds for a new wardrobe. In 1777 after fourteen months of negotiation, d'Éon returned to France, and was banished to Tonnerre for six years. In 1779, d'Éon published his memoirs 'La Vie Militaire, politique, et privée de Mademoiselle d'Éon'.
He returned to England in 1785. The pension which had been granted by Louis XV was lost during the French Revolution. In 1792, he sent a letter to the National Assembly, offering to lead a division of women soldiers against the Habsburgs but his offer was refused. D'Éon participated in fencing tournaments until being seriously wounded in 1796. In 1804 d'Éon was imprisoned for debt but released in 1805, upon which a contract was signed for his autobiography. The book was never published, because d'Éon became paralysed following a fall. His final years were spent bedridden, and on 21 May 1810 he died in poverty in London at the age of 82. Doctors who examined his body after death confirmed that the Chevalier was anatomically male.

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Georgian Celebrities - Emma, Lady Hamilton 

1/3/2015

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For me this post is about a 'local' celebrity as Emma was born on The Wirral.
She was born Amy Lyon on 26th April 1765 in Ness, Cheshire, the daughter of a blacksmith. Her father died very soon after her birth and she was raised by her mother in Hawarden, North Wales. She later changed her name to Emma Hart. 
Emma had no formal education and, at the age of 12, she was working as a maid at the Hawarden home of Doctor Honoratus Leigh Thomas. Then she worked for the Budd family in Chatham Place, Blackfriars. It was there that she met a maid called Jane Powell, who wanted to be an actress and Emma joined her in rehearsing for various tragic roles. Emma started work at the Drury Lane Theatre in Covent Garden, as maid to various actresses, amongst them Mary Robinson (mistress to the Prince Regent). 
At the age of fifteen, Emma met Sir Harry Featherstonhaugh, who hired her for several months as hostess and entertainer at a lengthy stag party at his country estate. She is said to have entertained Harry and his friends by dancing naked on the dining room table. Emma formed a friendship with one of the guests, the Honourable Charles Francis Greville, second son of the Earl of Warwick and a Member of Parliament. It was about this time (late June-early July 1781) that she conceived a child by Sir Harry.
Sir Harry was furious at the unwanted pregnancy but is thought to have accommodated Emma in one of his many houses in London. Emma gave up on Sir Harry and became Greville's mistress. When the child, Emma Carew, was born, she was taken to be raised by a Mr and Mrs Blackburn. 
Greville sent Emma to sit for his friend, the painter George Romney. Romney painted many portraits of Emma at this time and maintained a lifelong obsession with her, sketching her nude and clothed in many poses. Through the popularity of Romney's work and her own striking beauty, Emma became well known in society circles. She learned quickly and was elegant, witty and intelligent. 
In 1783, Greville needed to find a rich wife to replenish his finances and he settled on an eighteen-year-old heiress, Henrietta Middleton. But his chosen bride would not accept him as a suitor if he lived openly with the now famous Emma Hart.
To be rid of Emma, Greville persuaded his uncle, Sir William Hamilton, British Envoy to Naples, to take her off his hands. Greville suggested to Sir William that Emma would make a very pleasing mistress, assuring him that, once married to Henrietta Middleton, he would come and fetch Emma back. In his mid fifties and a great collector of antiquities and beautiful objects, Sir William enjoyed female companionship very much. Emma's famous beauty was by then well-known to Sir William, so much so that he even agreed to pay the expenses for her journey to ensure her speedy arrival. His home in Naples was well known all over the world for hospitality and refinement. He decided Emma would be the perfect hostess for his salon.
Greville did not inform Emma of his plan, instead suggesting the trip would be a prolonged holiday in Naples while he was away on business. Emma was sent to Naples, supposedly for six to eight months, little realising that she was actually going as a gift to her host. She was reported to be furious when she realised what Greville had done.
Sir William was smitten with Emma and, to Greville's shock, married her on 6 September 1791. She was twenty-six and he was sixty. Her marriage brought Emma the title Lady Hamilton. It is interesting to note that, when she married, she used her birth name of Amy Lyons.
Lady Hamilton became a close friend of Queen maria Carolina, wife of King Ferdinand I of Naples. As the wife of the British Envoy, Emma welcomed Nelson to Naples in 1793. Nelson returned to Naples five years later, a living legend, after his victory at the battle of the Nile. However, Nelson's adventures had prematurely aged him: he had lost an arm and most of his teeth, and was afflicted by coughing spells. Emma and Sir William escorted Nelson to their home, the Palazzo Sessa.
Emma nursed Nelson under her husband's roof, and arranged a party with 1,800 guests to celebrate his 40th birthday. They soon fell in love and their affair seems to have been tolerated, and perhaps even encouraged, by the elderly Sir William. Horatio Nelson and Lady Hamilton were, at that time, the two most famous Britons in the world. Emma became an important political influence, advising Queen Maria Carolina on how to react to the threats from the French Revolution. Maria Carolina's sister was Queen Marie Antoinette of France. In 1799 Naples French troops arrived in Naples and the royal family fled to Sicily. Nelson tried to help the royal family put down the revolutionaries. 
On Nelson's recall to Britain shortly afterwards, Emma and Sir William followed him to England in 1800. The three of them lived together openly, and the affair became public knowledge. This induced the Admiralty to send Nelson back to sea, in an attempt to get him away from Emma.
Emma gave birth to Nelson's daughter, Horatia, on 31 January 1801 at Sir William's rented home in London. By the autumn of the same year, Nelson bought Merton Place, a ramshackle house on the outskirts of modern day Wimbledon. There he lived with Emma, Sir William, and Emma's mother, a fact which fascinated the public. The newspapers reported on their every move, looking to Emma to set fashions in dress, home decoration and even dinner party menus. 
Sir William died in 1803 and Nelson returned to sea to fight in the Napoleonic Wars, leaving Emma pregnant with their second child. The child, a girl, died a few weeks after her birth in early 1804. 
On 21 October 1805, Nelson's fleet defeated a joint Franco-Spanish naval force at the battle of Trafalgar. Nelson was fatally wounded during the battle, and died shortly after. When the news of his death arrived in London, a messenger was sent to Merton Place to tell Lady Hamilton. Later, on describing the moment she was given the news, she said, " I believe I gave a scream and fell back, and for ten hours I could neither speak nor shed a tear."
After Nelson's death Emma quickly exhausted the small pension Sir William had left her and fell deeply into debt. Nelson left Merton Place to Emma, but she depleted her finances further by trying to keep it up as a monument to him. In spite of Nelson's status as a national hero, the instructions he left to the government to provide for Emma and Horatia were ignored. 
Emma spent a year in a debtor's prison, in the company of Horatia, before moving to France to try to escape her creditors. Turning to drink and living in poverty in Calais, she died in January 1815 of amoebic dysentery, an illness she probably contracted during her years in Naples.

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Who Followed the Georgians?

1/1/2015

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My historical romance series about the Georgian era takes us from the wild passion of the Jacobite rebellion through to the charm and formality of the Regency. This was a period in history that gave us heroes and heroines we fall instantly in love with, fascinating and amusing supporting characters and luscious historical settings. But who came after the Georgians, how do we 'bookmark' their place in history?
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William IV
William, Duke of Clarence, was the third son of George III. He served in the Royal Navy and saw action in America and the West Indies. 
He lived openly with the actress, Dorothy Jordan, with whom he had ten children. In 1818, following the death of George IV's daughter, Charlotte, there was a scramble amongst the royal princes to provide an heir. William married Adelaide of Saxe-Coburg. They had two daughters both of whom died in infancy.
Like his father and his older brother, King William was inclined to behave in an eccentric way. At the start of his reign he was a popular king but he lost some of this support when he began to oppose the parliamentary reforms he had previously upheld. He died in 1837. 
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Queen Victoria 
Alexandrina Victoria was the only child of Edward, Duke of Kent, fourth son of George III,  and Victoria of Saxe-Coburg. She was born in 1819 and was named after her godfather, Tsar Alexander II of Russia. 
Victoria's father died when she was eight months old and her mother developed a close relationship with Sir John Conroy who was an important figure in their lives. 
When William IV died, Victoria aged 18. became queen. Victoria became very dependent on her Prime Minister, Lord Melbourne. Such was their closeness that Victoria was nicknamed 'Mrs Melbourne' by her subjects. In 1839, Melbourne was forced to resign and Sir Robert Peel became Prime Minister. Victoria refused to accept Peel's request to replace the Whig ladies who served her with Tories and Peel resigned. Melbourne returned to office but Victoria's popularity was dented. It was damaged further by her unsympathetic behaviour towards Lady Flora Hastings, one of her ladies in waiting, who died of cancer of the liver. There were seven assassination attempts on Victoria during her reign.
Victoria married her cousin, Prince Albert of Saxe-Coburg and they had nine children. Prince Albert was a reformer who was interested in the plight of the poor and he had a great influence over his wife's political views. He died of typhoid in 1861 and, although Victoria continued to carry out her duties, she withdrew from public life and spent as much time as possible at her Scottish home, Balmoral. Here she became very close to one of her servants, John Brown.
During Victoria's reign, Britain's imperialism was at its height. Queen Victoria died in 1901.

My Pinterest Board about Queen Victoria is here:
http://www.pinterest.com/JaneGodman/queen-victoria/

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  Chronicles of The Blood Countess by Melinda De Ross

12/22/2014

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Today I'm welcoming the very talented Melinda De Ross to my blog. I've long been a fan of Melinda's. I love her storytelling technique and her poetic use of language. And, since there is nothing I enjoy more than a romance tinged with horror and suspense, I couldn't wait to hear more about Melinda's latest book, Chronicles of The Blood Countess! 
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Blurb   
In the legendary Transylvania, a castle belonging to Countess Erzsébet Báthory is discovered. Cameraman Hunter Cole and broadcast journalist Serena Scott arrive to make a documentary about the discovery, and the sinister Hungarian noblewoman, known as the most prolific female serial killer in history. 
The two Americans could cope with roughing it in a fifteenth-century castle, with no modern amenities. They can even cope with each other, despite their initial mutual dislike for one another, which gradually turns into a smoldering attraction. 
But when two girls are tortured and killed in Báthory copycat style, the nearby village is shaken to the core. In terror, they wonder who will be next...
Author’s Note
Erzsébet Báthory (1560-1614) is a known historical figure and was a Hungarian countess, also known as Elizabeth Báthory, The Blood Countess or Countess Dracula. She has been labeled the most prolific serial killer in history, being responsible for the torture and murder of hundreds of young girls. The exact number of her victims is unknown, but is estimated at six hundred and fifty. It is speculated that she kept a diary with the names of all her victims, but if such a document exists, it has never been made public.
*This work is entirely fiction.
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About the Author
Anca-Melinda Coliolu, writing as Melinda De Ross, lives in her native Romania with her husband and a pair of rude parrots. She attended Law School and got her degree but worked as a journalist for several newspapers, polishing her writing skills. 
It never occurred to her that she wanted a career as an author until she began writing, as therapy to get perspective on a crucial part of her life.
Melinda was a professional target shooter for a decade, winning multiple National Championships. She was breaking records in her teens until health issues forced her to give up the sport.
Out of that heartbreak, Rendezvous with Hymera – her first novel – started taking shape and so began her career as a Romantic Suspense author.
Melinda has always been a fan of writers like Diana Gabaldon, Nora Roberts and Sandra Brown. Currently she weaves romance into tales laced with the paranormal and occult. Her interests in yoga, philosophy and a large range of other disciplines give her work depth and color.
Other books by Melinda De Ross include: Unabridged, The Coriola Series (Mirage Beyond Flames and Dante’s Amulet), Chronicles of The Blood Countess, Be My Valentine, and A Touch Of Poetry. 
She loves to hear from her readers, and you can find her at:
http://melindadeross.wordpress.com/
https://www.facebook.com/pages/Melinda-De-Ross/513999791983330
https://twitter.com/melinda_de_ross
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7163748.Melinda_De_Ross

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Purchase Link
Amazon: 
http://www.amazon.com/Chronicles-Blood-Countess-Melinda-Ross-ebook/dp/B00R0BAG2E/ref=asap_B00E6V9O1K?ie=UTF8
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