Today's Special - - Theresa Romain and Shana Galen

I'm delighted to welcome Theresa Romain and Shana Galen, the authors of Mrs. Brodie's Academy for Exceptional Young Ladies, to the blog today. These two bestselling historical romance authors are among my favorites and I was so excited to learn they were combining their talents to produce this new novella duet set at an exceptionally unconventional academy for exceptional young ladies. I thoroughly enjoyed both stories and have hopes that they will consider revisiting the academy in the future. Please give them a warm welcome!


Hi, everyone! We’re so glad to be visiting The Romance Dish today—happy birthday, PJ! To celebrate PJ’s birthday (*wink*), we’ve got some trivia, excerpts, and giveaway goodies to share about our historical romance novella duo, Mrs. Brodie’s Academy for Exceptional Young Ladies.

A bit about the duo:

Mrs. Brodie’s Academy for Exceptional Young Ladies appears exclusive and respectable, a place for daughters of the gentry to glean the accomplishments that will win them suitable husbands.

But the academy is not what it seems. It’s more.

Alongside every lesson in French or dancing or mathematics, the students learn the skills they’ll need to survive in a man’s world. They forge; they fight; they change their accents to blend into a world apart. And the staff at the academy find a haven from their pasts…and lose their hearts.

As you might guess, we had a LOT of fun writing this!

Trivia about Theresa Romain’s novella: 

“The Way to a Gentleman’s Heart”

1.     This is a second chance at love story featuring Marianne Redfern, the cook at the exclusive Academy, and Jack Grahame, the first love who broke her heart years ago. These are all-new characters, so it can easily be read as a stand-alone story! But I’m also considering it part of my Romance of the Turf series because of Mrs. Brodie. She's Anne Jones, alias Janet Ahearn-- the villainess (or is she?) of the first two Romance of the Turf novels. She and her school will be a big part of the final book in that series, His Wayward Bride, coming out next spring.

2.     Because Marianne is a cook in London in the 1810s, I needed to be aware of what foods would be available to her. With a story set in April and May, this British seasonality table was a great help: https://www.bbcgoodfood.com/seasonal-calendar/all She could use foods in season or, of course, preserve them with salt, sugar, or pickling. (Finally, all those cooking shows I like to watch have paid off!)

3.     Have you heard of the custom of "telling the bees"? It has never been so common in the USA as it historically was in England. The tradition was that bees on one's property needed to be told of big life events--marriages, deaths, births--or they'd get distraught about being excluded and would leave the hives or stop making honey. I’ve always thought this was a charming tradition, and Marianne and Jack make certain to keep the bees informed of major life changes.

Excerpt from “The Way to a Gentleman’s Heart”

“Where did you get this honeycomb?” Marianne asked.

Jack doffed his hat, looking pleased. “I persuaded a confectioner to open early.”

“Why?”

“I wanted to bring you some, because I was remembering the bees your father used to keep.”

So. He recalled those days too. “Why?”

Now he looked annoyed. “I don’t know, Marianne. Maybe because seeing you reminds me of the way we grew up, helping the beekeeper collect honey and wax, and it was a nice memory, and I wanted to share it with you.”

Yet all of that belonged firmly in the past. The Redfern land now belonged to the Grahames, sold by Marianne’s mother upon being widowed five years before. Jack’s father had been living then, and he’d snapped it up using the Wilcox money that had passed into his hands.

There was no room for Marianne and Jack in that memory anymore, certainly not together.

“That’s not what I’m asking, really.” She bit her lip, wishing for a taste of sweetness. “Why…any of this? You came to London. You brought me strawberries.”

“And honeycomb,” he pointed out.

“I don’t understand why you’re here, Jack. I have a good post, and you have your life in Lincolnshire. If you just wanted to share a memory, why didn’t you send a letter?”

Seeming to think over his answer, he flipped his hat end over end. Fidget, fidget. “Because,” he decided, “I haven’t seen you for eight years, but for all the years before that, I saw you every day.”

The kitchen clock chimed the hour, reminding her of time rushing past. “After eight years without seeing me, it seems as if you could go on in the same way.”

“I probably could have, but I didn’t want to.” His gray eyes were merry. Why did he always look as if things were going his way? “Now that I’m here, maybe I’ll begin to pine for you. Be a devoted suitor and shower you with gifts. Would you be interested?”

The fiend. Did he know that was all she’d once wanted?

Did she know what she wanted from him now?

With one fingertip, she touched the delicate comb—then, in a rush, she folded over the heavy brown paper and set the parcel down on the worktable. “Don’t buy me any more presents.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s not right.”

He set his hat on the table beside the parcel, then stripped off his gloves. “You don’t like them?”

“I don’t know if I like them or not. It’s too confusing.”

His smile was crooked, not exactly happy. “I don’t mind confusing you, Marianne. That’s a step up from angering you, and isn’t that where we started?”

“I don’t know,” she blurted. “You’re confusing me.”

He poked through the paper and touched the discarded honeycomb with a gentle forefinger. Then he folded the brown paper over it, packing it away. Done, Marianne thought. He’d listen, and he’d stop now.

Instead, he said, “Then I’ll keep right on.” Stepping closer, he cradled her face in his hands—and he kissed her.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Trivia about Shana Galen’s novella: “Counterfeit Scandal”

1. In my novella, “Counterfeit Scandal,” the heroine Bridget has a talent for counterfeiting currency. She learned from her father, who was a British operative during the American Revolution. In researching counterfeiting during this time, I learned that one method the British employed to win the war as attempting to crash the nascent American economy. By counterfeiting mass amounts of paper money, the British could render legitimate money worthless. As is the case now, money was printed on special paper. The British captured a ship with a large cargo of the special paper and were able to counterfeit large amounts of currency and put it into circulation. In fact, at one point during the war John Adams wrote to his wife to be careful when accepting any paper money.

2. Bridget has spent time in Fleet Prison for debts. Debtor’s prison was notorious for the poor conditions those imprisoned endured. If prisoners wanted decent food, a bed, or a fire, they had to pay for it. Pretty ironic considering this was a debtor’s prison. Many prisoners died before they could ever repay their debts or finish their time and be set free.

3. In “Counterfeit Scandal,” Bridget is searching for her son, who she gave up when she went to debtor’s prison. The hero, Caleb, tells her they should ask Joseph Merceron. Joseph Merceron was a real person and a magistrate; he was known as The Boss of Bethnal Green. He was also notoriously corrupt, lining his own pockets and those of his friends at the expense of the poor people he was supposed to be serving.

Here’s a short excerpt from the novella, 

where Bridget tries to see Merceron.

Bridget reconsidered that statement a quarter hour later when she stepped into the Hog and Hen. The place looked as though the hog and hen in question had run rampant through the public rooms. She’d entered by herself about five minutes after Caleb had gone in. He’d told her he’d stand near the bar, and she spotted him easily. She must have looked as uncertain as she felt, because he gave her a firm nod as though to say, You can do this.

She took a breath, straightened her shoulders, and moved forward. Of course she could do this. She’d dealt with crying, screaming, fighting ten-year-old girls. A corrupt politician was nothing to her.

She made her way to the bar, aware that several pairs of eyes followed her. She was dressed more…completely than most of the women in the place, but she wasn’t here to advertise her charms. Still, her lavender gown and spencer were nothing to make anyone take notice. In an area of Town known for its silk weavers, the cloth of her dress was obviously inferior, as were her battered half boots and her drooping hat. She was nothing to waste time over.

Or so she hoped.

Without looking at Caleb, who was now only a few feet away, she cleared her throat. The barkeep flicked his eyes at her, then went back to polishing a glass. “What can I get you?” he asked flatly.

“Information.”

He sighed heavily. “Do I look like a book to you? I don’t ’ave no information. I ’ave ale and spirits.”

“I need to speak with Joseph Merceron.”

The barkeep set the glass on the counter. “What’s that to me? Do I look like ’is butler?”

“Where is he?”

The barkeep jerked his head to a dark corner of the tavern, and when Bridget squinted, she spotted an open door that led to another room. “Thank you.”

He muttered something under his breath as she walked away. She hoped Caleb followed. She was trembling now, but Satan himself couldn’t have stopped her from going into that room. Perhaps she would find James today. She might even hold him in her arms tonight.

She moved through the doorway and into the back room, and a man stepped in front of her. He was short but muscled, his head completely bald. “Can I help you, missus?”

“I’d like to speak with Mr. Merceron.”

“Do you owe him blunt?”

“No.”

“Then he’s busy.”

Bridget scowled. “It won’t take long. Just a few questions.”

“Come back tomorrow. Maybe he’ll see you then.”

“I can’t come back tomorrow. I need to speak with him today. Please.”

The man put his hand on her shoulder and, with strength she had no hope of matching, turned her around. “Goodbye, missus.”

She walked out and continued walking. Tears burned in her eyes, but she wouldn’t give anyone the satisfaction of seeing them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mrs. Brodie’s Academy for Exceptional Young Ladies teaches all the usual subjects—plus quite a few unusual ones. We’d love to know, what was your favorite subject in school, or what subject would you like to study at Mrs. Brodie’s Academy?

Today's Giveaways:

To one random commenter on this post, Theresa would like to give away a copy of her historical romance novel Scandalous Ever After and Shana would like to give away a copy of her historical romance novel No Earls Allowed. This giveaway is open internationally, and the winner can choose print or Kindle copies.

PJ, here. Because it's my birthday today, I'm adding more fun with more giveaways! Three randomly chosen people who leave a comment on today's post will each receive a Kindle copy of Mrs. Brodie's Academy for Exceptional Young Ladies (open internationally) and three more randomly chosen people who leave a comment will each receive a package of books from my conference stash. (U.S. only)

Shana Galen is the bestselling author of Regency historical romances filled with passion and adventure. A former school teacher, Galen now balances marriage and motherhood with a full-time writing career. Unmask Me If You Can, book four in Galen's popular The Survivors series will be released November 6th. Connect with her online at Facebook and Twitter and visit her website for more information about her books. 

A bestselling author of historical romances, Theresa Romain's accolades include starred reviews from Booklist and a 2016 RITA® final for Secrets of a Scandalous Heiress, book three in her The Matchmaker Trilogy. Her most recent full-length book is Lady Rogue (Apr 2018), book three in her The Royal Rewards series. Learn more about her books at her website and connect with her online at Facebook and Twitter. 

Today's Special - - Kat Martin

Kat Martin joins us today to chat about writing dialogue and share an excerpt from her newest book, Beyond Control. (read PJ's review)

Writing Dialogue

One of the questions I’m commonly asked is how do you write dialogue?  No question, dialogue between characters can be tricky.  Each character has a unique voice that is distinct from others in the book.

Since I’ve never been particularly good at description, letting the characters tell the story is my favorite way to craft a novel.

Of course there has to be narration, ways to move the story forward and set the scene.  A lot of writers simply have a different way of telling a tale, maybe through a single character’s actions and observations or just a majority of narrative.  But if you want to move the book forward through dialog, here are a few helpful tricks. 

First, enter the scene late and leave early.  Readers don’t want to hear “How are you?”  “I am fine.”

Second, once the characters start talking, let them talk--you can always delete or alter the conversation later.  But the fun is in hearing what the characters have to say. 

Third, something I’m careful about, try not to overwork unfinished sentences.  “What do you mean you didn’t--“  Or “I don’t think you should--“

What?  Readers can’t read minds.  Yes, this is how people talk in real life, but your job is to make it sound like real conversation while it’s actually more fleshed out, easier to understand.

Fourth, be sure to use conjunctions to make the character’s speech sound more real.  Unless you have a character who says things like “I cannot do that,” use “can’t” or “won’t,” or “don’t” or whatever.

So now that you know some of tricks, you just have to listen to your characters and get them talking in your head--which I think is at least partly determined by how you describe them. 

Once I sat in front of the post office with the car windows rolled up and tried to hear the voice of every person walking out.  It was amazing--no two voices sounded the same!  A strange story but true.

So listen to the voices in your head.  That’s my best advice.  And just keep writing.  It gets easier as you go along.  

Excerpt

Beyond Control

Iron River Ranch

Iron Springs, Texas

Victoria Bradford drove the old blue Chevy Malibu along the two lane road.  Up ahead, a sign hung above a narrow dirt track running off to the west, IRON RIVER RANCH.

“Are we there yet, Mama?”  Ivy, her four year old daughter, had asked at a dozen times since they’d left the Walmart parking lot in Iron Springs.  The ten mile drive didn’t take long, but to a four year old who’d been in the car for days, they couldn’t reach their destination soon enough. 

“We’re very close, sweetheart.  This is the turn, right here.”  Tory checked the gas gauge as the wheels left the pavement and started rumbling over the bumpy dirt road.  Less than an eighth of a tank.  She hoped the ranch wasn’t much farther.

More than that, she prayed the job hadn’t already been filled. 

She sighed as the aging Malibu rolled along.  She was basically in bumfrick Egypt, ten miles north of Nowhere Springs, almost out of gas, with twenty three dollars and thirty three cents in her wallet. 

Last night, without enough money for a motel room and afraid to use her credit cards for fear Damon would somehow track her, they’d slept in the car in the Walmart parking lot.  As soon as the McDonald’s opened, she had pulled into the drive-thru and bought Sausage McMuffins, then driven out to the ranch to somehow convince the owner to hire a woman with a daughter and no actual ranching experience.

She thought of the ad in the paper she had spotted last night on the counter in the Iron Springs Café.  If she somehow managed to get the job, it would be perfect.  Besides a steady paycheck and the ranch being way off the grid, the position included the use of a double-wide trailer. 

After being on the road for the past three weeks, living out of motel rooms and suitcases, the trailer sounded like a palace.

“Look, Mama, there it is!”  Ivy pointed toward the cluster of buildings up ahead, a couple of barns, several fenced training arenas, and a two-story home with dormer windows and a covered porch running the length out in front.  A double-wide sat fifty yards away.

Vast stretches of open green pastureland surrounded the complex where horses and cattle grazed, and there were ponds and woodlands in the distance, and dense copses of trees.

The Chevy bumped over the last patch of road, pulled up in front of the house, and Tory quickly turned off the engine.  No use wasting what little gas she had left. 

“Mama, there’s a man over there by the barn.”

Her gaze swung in that direction.  There was, indeed, a man.  The noisy buzz of a saw covered the sound of their arrival, giving her time to assess him. 

Shirtless, he was working with his back to them, broad, tanned, and muscled above a narrow waist that disappeared into a pair of faded jeans.  The jeans hugged a round behind and long, powerful legs. 

  He was tall, she saw when he straightened away from his work and walked into the barn, with medium brown hair cut short.  She got her first look at his face when he walked back out, handsome, with a solid jaw and masculine features, at least three days’ growth of whiskers. 

The front of him was just as impressive as the back, a broad chest with solid pecs, muscular biceps, and six pack abs.

Unease filtered through her.  This was a strong, powerful male.  She knew first hand what a man like that could do to a woman. 

Tory forced down the notion.  Not all men were like Damon.  Before she’d met him, she had been married to a good and decent man, the father of her child.  Jamie Bradford, her high school sweetheart, was one of the gentlest people she’d ever known.  Her father was a good man, before he’d fallen in love with his secretary and divorced her mother, leaving the two of them alone.

Tory took a courage-building breath.  “Stay here, sweetheart.”  Cracking open the car door, she slid out from behind the wheel.  “Don’t worry, sweetie.  Everything’s going to be okay.”

She hoped.

Ivy sank down in her booster seat, trying to make herself invisible.  Tory had survived the fights, arguments, and finally the brutal beating Damon had given her that had put her in the hospital.  Though he had never hurt Ivy, the little girl had seen the results of his mistreatment, leaving her with an unnatural fear of men.   

Tory glanced at the big, thick-chested male striding toward her, shrugging into a blue denim shirt.  Ivy would be terrified of him.  If there was any other way, she would climb back in the car and just drive away. 

There wasn’t.  Tory started walking, meeting the man half way.  She glanced around but didn’t see a soul besides the big man in front of her.  Her uneasiness returned but she forced it away. 

“May I help you?” he asked, and she thought that at least he was polite. 

“My name is Tory Ford.  I’m looking for Joshua Cain.  Is that you?”  He had blue eyes and a cleft in his chin.  From a purely physical standpoint, the man was flat out hot.   

“I’m Josh Cain.  What can I do for you?”

“I saw your ad in the Iron Springs Gazette.  You’re looking for a stable hand.  I’m here to apply for the job.”

He just shook his head.  “I’m afraid it’s a man’s job, Ms. Ford.  Mucking out stalls and cleaning tack, feeding the livestock.  It isn’t something you’d want to do.”

“Work isn’t supposed to be fun, Mr. Cain.  That’s why they call it work.  I can muck out stalls, clean tack, and feed stock as well as anyone else.”

“Sorry.  I’m looking for a man.  I appreciate you’re coming out, but--“

“There are laws, Mr. Cain.  Equal rights for women.  Have you never heard of that?  Lawsuits against discrimination?”

His jaw hardened.  His eyebrows came down in a frown.  “Are you kidding me?  You’re going to sue me because I won’t hire you to shovel horseshit out of the barn?”

She could feel the heat creeping into her cheeks.  With her fair skin, and fiery red hair, there was no way to hide her embarrassment. 

She looked him straight in the face.  “I need this job, Mr. Cain.  I need the house that comes with it.”  She forced herself to smile.  “Why don’t we compromise?  You give me three days to prove I’m up to the job.  If I’m not, I won’t give you anymore trouble.  Three days.  If you don’t think I can handle the work, I’ll leave.  I won’t argue, I’ll just go.”

A muscle jerked in his cheek.  He didn’t like being pressured.  He looked at her hard, then those condemning blue eyes traveled over her shoulder to something behind her. 

“Who is that?”

She didn’t have to turn to know Ivy had climbed out of the car.  Like Tory, she was small for her age, but her hair was blond instead of red, and her eyes were blue instead of green.

“That’s my daughter.  She’s only four.”  Desperate now, she could feel her heart throbbing softly inside her ribs.  “We need a place, Mr. Cain.  I’ll work hard.  I’ll do whatever you need done.  Just give me a chance.”

He swore the f-word under his breath, not loud enough for Ivy to hear.  Damon wouldn’t have cared.  She clung to the hope that represented.

“What do you plan to do with your daughter while you’re working?  You can’t leave her in the house alone.”

Tory glanced wildly around.  She had known this would be a problem.  Before, she’d had money enough to hire a sitter or there was day care for employees’ kids.

 She looked at the fenced yard off to the side in front of the trailer.  The grass was sparse and in need of a trim.  Maybe he’d had a dog or something, but it was clean and empty now.  The weather was still good and there was a little gazebo with a table and benches in the middle.  She’d be able to keep an eye on Ivy while she was working. 

“She could play in the yard.  She likes to color and she already reads kids’ books.  She wouldn’t be any trouble.  If this works out, I’ll have money to pay for a sitter.”

Cain looked at Ivy, paced away then back.  “Dammit.”

“It’s just three days.  If I do a good job, you won’t have to search for someone else.”

He ran a hand over his short brown hair, paced away, then walked back.  “Did you sleep in your car last night?”

She refused to answer.  She didn’t want charity from Cain for anyone else.

“Fine,” he said.  “You’ve got three days.  But I’m not cutting you any slack.  You do a man’s job for a man’s pay.  If you can’t hack it, you’re out of here.”

And from the look on his face, he was clearly hoping she would fail.  Hell, maybe she would.

She managed to fake a smile.  “Okay, it’s a deal.”  She stuck out her hand to seal the bargain, for a moment didn’t think he was going to shake.  Then he sighed and took hold of her hand, not too hard, just firm enough to let her know he was in charge.

“You start tomorrow morning.  Six A.M. sharp.  There’s enough food in the trailer to last a few days.  I’ll bring you a quart of milk.  After that, board’s on you.  If you’re still here, you’ll need to make a trip into town for groceries.”

Relief filtered through her, so strong it made her head swim.  She had a place to stay where no one would look for her.  She had a job, which meant food and whatever necessities they needed.  If he kept her on, she’d find a sitter to watch Ivy.  She’d have time to figure things out, make a new plan. 

She took a step back, set an arm around her little girl’s shoulders and drew her forward.  “This is my daughter, Ivy.  Ivy, this is Mr. Cain.”

“Hello, Ivy,” he said.  He had an unusual voice, deep and resonate, but at the same time soft and oddly compelling. 

Ivy shrunk back. 

“Say hello, honey,” Tory said.

“I don’t want to stay.  I want to go.”  Clinging to Tory’s waist, she burrowed into her.

“She’s shy,” Tory said. 

“The trailer’s unlocked,” Cain said.  “It’s clean and ready to go.”

“Thank you.” 

He turned and started striding back to the barn.  She probably should be at least a little afraid of him.  Oddly, she wasn’t.

Then again, she hadn’t been afraid of Damon, either.

One randomly chosen reader who posts a comment will receive a copy of Against the Storm.  
(US only)  


Beyond Control
By Kat Martin
Publisher: Zebra
Release Date: May 29, 2018

Victoria Bradford and her four-year-old daughter are on the run from Tory's abusive ex-fiancé. Seventy miles north of Dallas, the Iron River Ranch is pretty much nowhere, exactly what Josh Cain wanted when he came back from Afghanistan. Big skies, quiet nights, no trouble.

When Tory shows up with her adorable little girl, Josh realizes he is in for trouble of the most personal kind. But Josh has seen trouble before, and he doesn't scare easy. Not when "accidents" start happening around the ranch. Not when Tory's best friend is abducted. Not even when he realizes their troubles are only the tip of the iceberg. 

Today's Special - - Authors Abroad with Terri Osburn - Part 2

Terri Osburn is back with part two of her recent adventures in Europe. Click here to read part one!

Now…on to the fun!

Kiddo (that’s my 18 year old daughter) and I spent four days in London between the Paris and Berlin events. Thanks to my stellar travel agent, we landed in the perfect location right across the street from the Royal Mews and just a quick jaunt a block and a half up to Buckingham Palace. 

Buckingham Palace

Buckingham Gate

Buckingham Palace - Victoria

We walked The Mall, the Strand, across the Waterloo Bridge, and gawked at Piccadilly Circus.  

Piccadilly Circus

We rode the London Eye, marveled at Westminster Abbey and Westminster Hall (Big Ben is under renovation so we only got to see his face,) plus scored perfect seats to Hamilton: An American Musical at the newly renovated Victoria Palace Theater. (We did not throw away our shot! < had to do that.)

London Eye

Westminster Abbey

St. James - London

Scottish Carriage - Diamond Jubilee

As if that all wasn’t enough, we took a day trip to Windsor. Y’all… I can’t even begin to describe how amazing this was. Nine days before the royal wedding and the place was practically empty. No lines, the weather was perfect, and I STOOD right where Harry and Meghan exchanged their vows. Needless to say, I watched the wedding from my couch and it was another surreal moment when everything looked familiar. I walked the hill Harry and William walked to enter the church. I went full tourist in St. George’s Hall, which is where the reception immediately following the ceremony was held. I took pictures of that beautiful statue of Queen Victoria, and still can’t believe I was there.

Windsor Castle

Queen Victoria

For a kid who grew up knowing her grandmother was born not far north of London, it felt like a homecoming. If I ever take the dive into becoming an ex-pat, that’s where I’ll land.

And back to Paris

Because Kiddo couldn’t make the first few days in Paris due to college finals (she flew straight to London) we went back so she could see the city and we could do the tourist thing for a few days. Since we did a full day tour to Versailles and Giverny, we really only had one day in the city before flying home. Which means we didn’t see hardly any of the multitude of must-visit attractions, and yet, those couple of days were a spectacular way to end the adventure.

Giverny Money Garden

Giverny Water Lilies

As one would expect, Versailles is breathtaking. I found it interesting to see both Versailles and Windsor within the same week, because though possibly the two most famous castles in Europe, they could not be more different. Windsor is older, but Versailles is more opulent. Windsor is still a functioning residence, Versailles is practically empty due to all the furnishings being sold to fund the revolution more than two hundred years ago.

Versailles viewed from the gardens

Versailles Gardens

Windsor has suits of armor, while Versailles has walls of marble. Windsor has an empty mote (fun fact: it was always empty) and Versailles has constant renovations that will never end (per our tour guide.) Windsor, for all its size and history is understated compared to the opulence of Versailles. I find the dichotomy quite interesting, and revealing about the monarchs who built and rule(d) from the two magnificent structures.

Versailles Hercules Room

Versailles Hall of Mirrors

But I can’t forget the beauty of Giverny. Sad to say, I was not aware of this town’s claim to fame until my travel agent suggested the excursion, and I’m so glad she did. Especially for the sake of my art major daughter. Giverny is the town made famous by Claude Monet, and I highly recommend visiting his home if you get the chance. The gardens are wild and colorful, but the Japanese water garden that inspired his Water Lilies paintings are like stepping right into the historic canvases brought to life. A bit less peaceful thanks to the volume of tourists (especially young children there on field trips – which is so much cooler than any field trip I ever had) but still worth the visit.

Giverny Monet Garden

Our last day in Paris was reserved for the Louvre. One of the first things you learn about this museum is that it’s HUGE. Originally a 12^th century fortress and later expanded into a palace, this artistic marvel is simply overwhelming. The maps are not user friendly, so at any given time we had no idea where we were, but even still we managed to find the Venus de Milo, Nike of Samothrace (Winged Victory), and the Mona Lisa. What we stumbled upon without even knowing it was there is a mall. Yes, there is a mall in the basement of this historic landmark. Must fit the commercialism in there somewhere. (I bought an expensive purse – when in Paris…)

Mona Lisa

Venus de Milo

Winged Victory

Louvre ceiling

To put the perfect exclamation point on our trip, we arrived at the Eiffel Tower at precisely the moment she began to sparkle. A sight I won’t soon forget. Because the temps were cool and we arrived shortly before closing, we were lucky to find the place nearly deserted. Unfortunately, it’s also surrounded by corrugated metal, so not the prettiest picture from that close, but boy when you look up….

And so we wrap up 15 days in Paris, London, and Berlin. This was a trip of a lifetime for me, and I’m incredibly happy that I was able to take my daughter along. We spent a lot of time pinching ourselves, bonding over not understanding a single thing being said around us, and feeling unbelievably grateful for this opportunity. In the end, this was a trip made possible by the generous and loving readers who embrace and support this genre we call romance. So from both me and my daughter, thank you. I hope you all get to take a trip like this someday.


Thank you, Terri for sharing your wonderful adventure with us through both your photos and your words. 

Readers, if money were no object and you could take a grand adventure anywhere in the world, where would you go? What would you most want to see?

One person who posts a comment will receive a signed copy of Terri's most recent novel, Falling Star. (US only)

A country star looking for a comeback has one last shot at fame—and he might just have one last shot at love.

Naomi Mallard is a fixer by nature. And as PR manager for Nashville’s Shooting Stars record label, she’s facing her biggest fix: redeeming country music bad boy Chance Colburn. But in Naomi’s eyes, a police record and a stint in rehab are the least of Chance’s sins. He has spent his life running from demons and making tabloid headlines that have sent his career into a tailspin. Now he’s struggling to find his muse and maintain his newfound sobriety, all while counting on the woman he once betrayed to repair his tattered reputation.

Naomi is determined to keep their relationship strictly professional, but that’s not easy when an unexpected injury forces the former couple into disturbingly close proximity. Will mending their once-broken relationship be Naomi’s best save yet? Or will Chance’s past wreck any hope for a future together?

Today's Special - - Spotlight on Elicia Hyder's Lights Out Lucy

Hi Everybody! PJ here. I'm excited to share an excerpt from Lights Out Lucy: Roller Derby 101 today. I'm about two-thirds of the way through an advanced copy of this first book in Elicia Hyder's new Music City Rollers series that releases April 24 and it is so much fun. Filled with humor, likeable characters, strong female friendships, a sweet romance, and women challenging themselves to discover what they're made of, Lights Out Lucy kept me smiling from the get-go. I don't know how many books Hyder has planned for this series but I'll be buying them all. I'm totally invested in these characters and can't wait to read all their stories!

Elicia Hyder played women’s flat track roller derby with the Nashville Rollergirls under the skater name, eL’s Bells. After a black eye, a broken finger, a severely pulled groin, and two serious knee injuries, Elicia hung up her skates to focus on a safer hobby—writing. She has fictionalized her experience in her latest novel, Lights Out Lucy: Roller Derby 101. More novels are to come in the Music City Rollers series. For more information about Elicia and her books, visit her website. For series specific information about the Music City Rollers, including appearances, visit the series website. 

Lucy Cooper isn’t looking for love when she finds it—or slams into it, rather—during rush hour traffic. But her heart, like her car, is a total loss the moment West Adler steps out of his truck to inspect the damage. 

West truly is the perfect guy: handsome, funny, rich. The benefactor of not one, but two children’s hospitals. And he’s the main sponsor of the Music City Rollers, Nashville’s championship roller derby team. 

When Lucy discovers the Rollers are actively recruiting “Fresh Meat,” she puts her life on the line to catch West Adler’s attention. But will accident-prone Lucy skate off with the heart of Nashville’s Most Eligible Bachelor? Or will she get herself killed in a sport that promises, “It’s not a matter of if you’ll get hurt—but of how bad and when.”

Excerpt from LIGHTS OUT LUCY

There was less violence for the rest of the first half. The bout was so intense, I almost forgot the whole reason we were there. But five minutes into the second half, I saw an arm waving in the stands across the arena.

An arm that belonged to West Adler.

I looked at Olivia. "It's him."

Her mouth gaped. "Huh?"

"West Adler," I said, pointing.

She followed my finger and strained her eyes. "The guy waving, I assume?"

"Yes."

"Are you going to go talk to him?"

I pressed my lips together and shook my head.

"No?"

"No. He can come here. I'm a lady."

She laughed and almost spit out her beer. "We're only here because you're an online creeper. You lost your lady card yesterday."

When I looked again, West was gone. My eyes scanned the crowd till I saw him walking down the stairs to the floor of the arena. He slapped hands with a few people as he walked the perimeter of the room.

I dug my nails into Olivia's arm. "Oh gosh, I think he's on his way over here."

"You need Xanax," she said, draining the last of her beer.

"What do I do?" My voice jumped up an octave.

She laughed. "I would say 'be cool' but that ain't happening."

West walked up to the team bench in front of our bleachers and shook hands with a few of the players. He paused to say something to The Duchess before patting the woman on the back and turning toward the bleacher steps. Our steps. I worried I might lose my hot dog.

He took the steps two at a time until he stopped at the row behind ours and sidestepped his way across the spectators to the empty seats directly behind us. "What are the odds, Lucy?" he asked, sitting down.

"Better than you think," Olivia mumbled beside me.

I elbowed her in the ribs as I turned toward him. "Hey there, West. What are you doing here?"

He motioned to the track. "I come to all the bouts. I love this sport."

"Me too!" I said with a little too much enthusiasm.

He blinked with surprise. "Really?"

"Sure! Well, it's my first time, but so far, I love it."

"How'd you hear about it?" he asked.

My mouth was open, but no words came out. Olivia caught my eye and glared as she turned in her seat, stretching her hand toward West. "It was my idea. I'm Lucy's roommate, Olivia."

He shook her hand. "Nice to meet you, Olivia. West Adler."

"I've heard a lot about you," she said, causing me to die a little inside. "Thanks for taking care of her yesterday."

"It was my pleasure." He looked at me. "How are you feeling?"

"So sore," I said, grimacing.

The corners of his eyes crinkled with sympathy. "I was worried about that. The next day is usually the worst. What did they say about your car?"

My nose wrinkled. "Nothing good. The car is probably totaled. I should find out for sure on Monday."

He put his hand on my shoulder. "That sucks. I'm sorry to hear it. Are you able to get around without it?"

I nodded. "My insurance company got me a rental car. How's your bumper?"

"Replaceable." He glanced at the empty plastic cup in Olivia's hand. "I'm going to get another drink. Can I buy you ladies a round?"

"Thank you," she said.

"What are you drinking?" he asked.

"Three Leprechauns Red Ale."

"Diet Coke," I answered.

He winked as he stood. "Coming right up."

When he was gone, Olivia nodded her head. "I admire a man who buys the booze. He's a keeper."

"He's cute, too, huh?"

"Yeah, he's cute. Is he single?"

I shrugged. "He doesn't wear a wedding band, and I found him on a list of most eligible bachelors, so I hope so."

Just then, one of Nashville's blockers cut sideways toward Richmond's jammer, 6VI6. The same skater who'd leveled Medusa. With a loud grunt that echoed around the room, the blocker plowed into 6VI6's rib cage with her shoulder. The jammer lost control and careened into the crowd sitting on the floor at about a thousand miles per hour.

Whistles blew, the horn from the scoreboard blasted, and emergency workers ran across the gym. I realized I was on my feet with the rest of the crowd and didn't even remember standing.

"And that's why we call them the suicide seats, folks! They're not for the faint of heart!" the announcer said in the microphone.

The jammer stood back up on her skates, aided by the fans she'd just mowed down. When she turned in our direction, I saw blood pouring from her nose into her mouth. She pulled her jersey over her head and pressed it to her face before slapping high fives with the fans around her legs. Everyone cheered, including Medusa and the rest of Nashville's players, as she skated back to her team's bench in her sports bra.

I exhaled, gripping my chest. "Thank God no one was hurt."

Olivia held her fists up. "That was awesome. I want more blood!"

I laughed and smacked her on the back of the head. Out on the track, 6VI6 was escorted back to the locker room by two men in khakis and polo shirts.

West returned a few minutes later balancing three drinks between his two hands. He sidled his way across the row again and reclaimed his seat at our backs. "Three Leprechauns," he said, handing a beer to Olivia.

She held it up like a toast. "Thanks."

"And a Diet Coke," he said, passing me the only cup with a lid and straw.

"Thank you, West."

He leaned toward me. "Now you owe me a bumper, a ride, and a drink, Lucille."

I silently cursed myself for not having a witty comeback.

He gestured toward my cup. "You know, if you're going to hang out on the derby scene, you're going to have to learn how to drink."

"I'm trying to be kind to my liver since I'm taking a lot of pain meds. And I've got to drive home later," I said.

He cringed. "Is you driving sober supposed to make us feel safer?"

My mouth dropped open. Olivia burst out laughing and showered the row in front of us with a light spray of beer from her lips. Thankfully, no one noticed. She slapped my knee. "Oh, I like him."

I turned my eyes back to the track, shaking my head, trying not to laugh.

He nudged my shoulder with his leg. "I'm only teasing."

"You're not funny," I said with forced indignation.

He held up his index finger and thumb with a millimeter of space between them. "I'm a little funny."

I laughed and sipped my drink.

"Power jam!" the announcer yelled over the speakers.

The whole crowd cheered.

Out on the track, Medusa was flying past every member of her team and Richmond's. Two of Richmond's players were in the penalty box, including their jammer who'd replaced 6VI6 in the game. After a fourth pass, everyone was on their feet, including us, and West was cheering loud over our heads. She passed everyone again.

"That's twenty-five!" West yelled.

She passed again.

"Thirty! She's going to run out of time," someone said.

"Run out of time for what?" I asked.

The man in front of us looked back at me. "To break the world record."

"Thirty-five!"

Medusa's knees were bent as she stepped, right skate over left, pushing her legs out hard around the corners. The Nashville blockers kept Richmond's blockers out of her way as she sailed past them again. The crowd began counting down.

"Ten! Nine! Eight! Seven! Six! Five! Four!"

"That's forty-five!" West shouted.

"Three! Two! One!"

EARRRRRRNGGGGG! The buzzer and the crowd were so loud I covered my ears. West made up half the decibels all by himself.

Out on the track, Medusa's entire upper body was heaving with heavy breaths as she slowed and her team ran on their skates out from the bench to catch her in their arms.

The announcer turned up his volume to be heard over the fans. "Forty-five points in that power jam, and our captain reminds us all why she wears that star! Give it up for Medusa!"

Even the Richmond team was standing and clapping as Medusa skated a wide circle around the track, waving to everyone. She slid to a stop near the home team's bench, and the coach walked over and hugged her. Someone handed her a bottle of water.

"That was intense," Olivia said as we sat back down.

"What's the world record?" I asked.

"Fifty points," the man in front of us said.

West leaned down. "Medusa held the record at forty-five points for two years, but she lost it to a skater in Colorado who got fifty. The fifty-point jam even made it into the Guinness Book of World Records."

"Ouch," I said.

"And to make matters worse," Styx's dad added, "they've changed the rules since then."

West nodded. "A power jam is when the opposing jammer is in the penalty box. It used to be that penalties lasted a full minute. Now they're only thirty seconds."

"So it's even harder to collect that many points," I said.

"Impossible, if you ask me," the old man said.

West laughed. "Tell that to Medusa."

Styx's dad pointed at West. "She's the only one who's come close. I gotta give her that." He looked at me and Olivia. "Only a handful of skaters in the whole world can break forty."

Olivia sipped her beer. "The whole world? I had no idea this was that big of a sport."

"They're talking about adding it to the Olympics," West said.

"Really?" I asked, watching Medusa who was shouting at her players from the bench.

"Yep." He pointed to the track. "And when it does, Nashville will have a local on the team."

Just then, the buzzer blared through the arena again. The bout was over.

Music City had won.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Have you ever been to a roller derby bout? Watched one on TV? Is it something you would try?

Accident prone Lucy chooses Lights Out Lucy for her derby name...for obvious reasons. What name would you choose for yourself?

Two randomly chosen people who post a comment no later than 11:00 PM (eastern), April 14 will receive a Kindle copy of Lights Out Lucy.