Friday, February 7, 2014

Welcome my English friend, Katy Walters - multi-published author of A Lady's Plight! @bluesytee

Today I want to welcome my wonderful friend from England, Katy Walters, who has greatly entertained me with her many stories. She writes in multiple genres and knows just how to make her characters become someone for you to care about.

I live in a Sussex village near to the Regency towns of Brighton and the Pavilion, the dream of the Prince Regent. Nearby is Arundel, the seat of the Duke of Norfolk, the castle dating back to medieval times, the ancient ramparts towering over the small town.  Then there is Chichester, every street a Regency portrait and Bath, which is a novelist’s delight. All of these towns create an ethos echoing Regency life.

Before writing a novel, I visit one of them to soak up the elegance of the architecture, trying to enter the atmosphere of those far-gone times.  Whilst walking through narrow cobbled streets I imagine the carriage rollicking past, of ladies in Empire fashion, of feathered bonnets and velvet pelisses, of nankeen breeches and starched cravats. Even today, the same bay fronted shop windows replete with mullioned windows yawn over narrow pavements.  The only changes being the wares; an empire dress swapped for a top and miniskirt. Best of all, is stepping down rickety steps into an oak beamed tearoom, with a leaning floor, where log fires crackle in open grates, the air filled with the rich aroma of tansy and cinnamon cakes.

Excerpt      A Lady’s Plight

Chapter One.

'How could you? You promised.' She leapt to her feet, sending the bucket of champagne tumbling on the grass. 'I've waited four years - four years.'

Reaching to save the bottle, Lord Alexander Fitzroy, the Earl of Standford spluttered, 'Deuce Isa, I can hardly refuse can I?'

'What about the wedding, the arrangements, the guests?'

'I have no choice; the invitation - command rather was given into my hand, this morning. General Maddeson expects me as his aide-de-campe in Brussels.'

'You could say no - just this once. He knew of our nuptials; he's a guest for pity's sake.'

Alexander rose to his feet, his arms outstretched to placate her. He’d planned an idyllic picnic, hors d'oeuvres, ham, chicken, goose foie gras and champagne, now he faced her wrath. 'Bonaparte escaped Elba; he's in France. The General's request is an honour I cannot refuse. I would be ostracized from the regiment - egad, from the ton.'

'Don't start talking about honour. You use that each time.'

His eyes embraced her bosom heaving with anger. In two long strides, he grabbed her, drawing her close, intending to kiss her to silence.

Struggling she gasped, 'Unhand me Alex, this time you will not win.'

Smiling, he held her fast, 'Look, I shall be back within a couple of months. We can then marry. I'm sure the countess will delay the nuptials?'

'She's already delayed them each year for four years. Dammit - let me go.'

Perceiving he was laughing at her, anger surged through her body, pumping blood to her head. How dare he treat marriage so lightly, it was an insult to her and her family. Gritting her teeth, she stamped on his foot.

Eyebrows raised, his sea blue eyes twinkling, he said, 'I think that hurt you more than it did me.'

She grimaced; he was right; her silk slippers had little effect on heavy Hessian boots. 'Let me go.'

His answer was to drag her down on the blanket, smothering her face with kisses. He felt her loosen against him, her lips quivering. Raising his head, he said, 'I love you Isabella - we will be together - soon.'

She willed herself not to give in; it would mean another year of waiting, another year without him. She wanted to be his wife, to wake up to him every morning. She had to fight him for this.

She wilted, only to take a deep breath, and clench her teeth. No, he wouldn't win. Before their engagement, he was a rake of the first order. With his raven black hair dressed in the Brutus style, the curls framed a face that modelled a Grecian statue; God knows how many hapless girls he had seduced? However, on offering for her, he promised to remain faithful. Yet, even now, he may have a mistress installed in Brussels. 'If you must go, then I will go with you,'

He raised his head, and sitting up, drew her to him. 'No sweetheart, you can't. You will meet with too many dangers. I will not be around to protect you all the time.'

'You have a mistress out there haven't you?'

'Darling I am true to you - God knows why, with your temper.'

'Temper? Is fighting for my rights mere temper? Besides, a couple of my friends are already out in Brussels having a grand time, dinners, the theatre, opera, and lavish balls. So I shall join them.'

'I forbid it; I will not allow you to put yourself in jeopardy. In this, you will obey me.'

Isabella's face reddened, narrowing the jade eyes. 'What? Forbid? Not allow? Obey? Whom do you think you're addressing - some nincompoop - some ignoramus unpicking her embroidery?'

'Look I don't want to frighten you, but war is imminent. Women out there could lose their lives. We cannot trust the little Corsican.'

Pushing him away, Isabella rose to her knees, her hands fisted on her hips. 'Don't tell me what is not good for me. I will make my own choices. And, never - ever use that word obey again. '

This wonderful book, A Lady's Plight,
 will be just one of many sold in this week's
I also have a new Boxed Set available
with 4 wonderful, heart-warming stories...
So, be sure and fill your e-readers today!!!

***And there's a special treat in store for readers of
Young Adult stories.
Jodie Esch has entered her book
Little White Lies
in this week's Indie Book Blowout also.
Be sure and get your copy because  
this story is so well-written
that I enjoyed it thoroughly
and I left my teen years behind - hummm
 - a century ago??

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