& Moira Bianchi: historical romance
Mostrando postagens com marcador historical romance. Mostrar todas as postagens
Mostrando postagens com marcador historical romance. Mostrar todas as postagens

sábado, 13 de março de 2021

A second before the duel - a historical nano tale

 Hello!

I've promised, so I deliver:

Here's another NANOTALE!


Even being so distrated with Meghan & Harry bombastic interview, I managed to work on this post. 


On Instagram, I'm posting daily and will probably talk about this controversy. So, if you're also infected by these problems they raised, follow me there and help me on the quest to achieve 10k on Instagram.  click here so I can keep on to the most dreamed swipe up. 


Enjoy!

A second before the duel
sutterstock

'We are married, dear Anne, but only to our knowledge. No one will suspect that we have just arrived from Gretna Green. ' He kissed her cheek before climbing down of the carriage, took care to check for watchful eyes and only when asured of their safety, he reached out to help his young wife down.

Deeply moved by emotions, she tripped over her skirts and needed the support of her secret husband, who, roguish as a man violently in love can be, took the opportunity to kiss her bosom exploding from her beautiful dress' decoletage. As she laughed self-consciously, delighted with her lover's attention, her name was shouted in severe anger:

'Anne, what does that mean?'

'Oh, dear God! I cannot believe my eyes as I see my brother!' She felt her legs fail. 'My Lord!' She looked to her husband with wide eyes. 'You will need to defend my honor.'

* the end *


I so loved these ballet pics from Royal Opera House, they are so romantic, so inspiring.
I composed 3 nanotales based by ballet scenes. Here are the others:


The 19th century had famous ballerinas, I have researched them when composing a lovely historical short novella about one ballerina and her brothers. 

Mary Taglioni, La sylphide
alamy

I'm revising and sharpening edges to publish it.

Leah E Moss designs


See ya!
Again, stay safe and sane! ;)

Anyway... read my other NANOTALES here.
Postado por às 05:20 0 comentários
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quarta-feira, 10 de março de 2021

Declaration - a historical nano tale

 Hello!

I've been a bit far from my blog, and I apologize for that.

Lately, I have taken a keen interest in digital marketing and the quest to achieve 10k on Instagram. - by the way, if you're not following me, I beg you to! click here and help me get the most dreamed swipe up. - Anyway, these studies helped me realize that I have to please my audience.

Duh!

So, on Instagram I'm posting mostly in Portuguese, here I'll try to post mostly in English. Does it make sense?

Fot that, I'll give you several nanotales to amuse you while I search and research stuff to please you!  

Enjoy!
Declaration
Clarence F Underwood

She could very well notice how he had said his claims in exhasperation. For a split second she had sensed all the power she had on that man and that, devilishly, made her glow - inwardly of course, a proper lady is always discreet and well behaved.
'Yes, I accept your hand in marriage, my lord.' She raised her eyebrows in response to the relieved smile on the man's face. 'But know that my feeling for you in no way clears your evil inclinations, sordid habits and dark past that-'
Lord John silenced his beautiful bride's objections with a fiery kiss.



* the end *


I so loved these ballet pics from Royal Opera House, they are so romantic, so inspiring.
I composed 3 nanotales based by ballet scenes. 
* the end *


I so loved this ballet pics from Royal Opera House, they are so romantic, so inspiring.
I composed 3 nanotales based by ballet scenes. 


The 19th century had famous ballerinas, especially French and Russian. Far from the ballet bubble, we are most acquainted with Degas' ballerinas.
La classe de dance, Degas 1873-76

Aside from the creepy retellings of his adorations and stalking of dancing girls, his work is absolutely lovely. I am a big fan.

I even included his ballerina statue on a REVERSED PRIDE AND PREJUDICE modern romance... 


I do have a lovely historical romance novel about a ballerina, a short story. I'm revising and sharpening everyhting to publish it.

Leah E Moss designs


My VICTORIAN GENTLEMAN series is kinda dormant, but not for lack of plots. This everlasting quarentine had a heavy toll on me. 
But, life goes on and I will rise above! The sun always comes up, doesn't it?
dibble


See ya!
Stay safe and sane! ;)

Anyway... read my other NANOTALES here.
The rake


The 19th century had famous ballerinas, especially French and Russian. Far from the ballet bubble, we are most acquainted with Degas' ballerinas.
La classe de dance, Degas 1873-76

Aside from the creepy retellings of his adorations and stalking of dancing girls, his work is absolutely lovely. I am a big fan.

I even included his ballerina statue on a REVERSED PRIDE AND PREJUDICE modern romance... 


I do have a lovely historical romance novel about a ballerina, a short story. I'm revising and sharpening everyhting to publish it.

Leah E Moss designs


My VICTORIAN GENTLEMAN series is kinda dormant, but not for lack of plots. This everlasting quarentine had a heavy toll on me. 
But, life goes on and I will rise above! The sun always comes up, doesn't it?
dibble


See ya!
Stay safe and sane! ;)

Anyway... read my other NANOTALES here.
Postado por às 06:17 0 comentários
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terça-feira, 18 de fevereiro de 2020

Minhas pesquisas sobre o século 19 - e outras antiguidades

Olá,
vamos
CONVERSAR SOBRE ROMANCES HISTÓRICOS

Para compor um romance de época, principalmente a era Vitoriana que acho tão interessante pela modernidade arcaica deles. Máquina de fotografar? Tinham, só que chama daguerreotipo... Cinema? Tinham, só que chamava fantasmagória. Trem? Tinha, só que era a vapor. Tanta coisa legal...

 Na aba lateral direita existe uma lista de todas as postagens que fiz sobre minhas pesquisas históricas relacionadas ou não aos meus romances de época. Ou históricos. Saias e anáguas com cartola e bengala. Você me entende.

Mas como muita gente acessa pelo cel, vou listar aqui também. Sempre que houver um novo post, farei updates. Aproveite!

 alfabeto erótico Francês
anatomia Vitoriana Feminina
Belgravia, lugar & curiosidades históricas
cartas no século XIX
casas de bonecas vitorianas
Charlotte Brontë, cartas de luto
cores - vermelho
          - azul
          - amarelo
Postado por às 11:44 0 comentários
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quarta-feira, 27 de novembro de 2019

Hotels and Inns in Regency Era

hello,
I'm working on a new JAFF, struggling a little actually. The last JAFF I wrote, 9 WAYS TO LIVE PRIDE AND PREJUDICIOUSLY, was a very loosey-goosey affair. Eight short romances inside one main romance, 9 ways has several tales for ODC, historical and modern, OOC and even in reverse roles. 
pinterest

Now, as I compose DIRTY PETTICOATS, the research has to be more accurate because the story is set entirelly in Regency times, a Pride & Prejudice continuation - actually a mystery romantic comedy or a chick lit full of shenanigans for Darcy and Mrs. Lizzy Darcy to solve. 

 Every time I write a new piece I find myself with the most inane doubts and spend days researching to make sure no gross errors are made. Now, the part in which I am struggling is...
WHERE THERE HOTELS IN REGENCY ENGLAND?
pinterest
Yeah, of course there were... Duh!

 Now I am sure because I did research. First I looked into Jane Austen's own words and listed below, secondly I looked over my fellow nosy people in the internet to find tips, thirdly I checked trully historical sources as magazines and catalogues from 1810 to 1819. FYI, I loosely pinpoint P&P around the first two decades of 19th century and only specify the year if it's pivotal to the story.

 Anyway, why did I have such a silly doubt?
Well, because I tend to think the highly refined and proper people of Regency England a bit too underdeveloped when compared to the sizzling Victorians. Don't know, maybe because of the power of the industrial revolution.
So, the research began with Austen.
poeme-se

Thank God Gutenberg has all the major novels on line and my Firefox can do 'search' so I skimmed directly to the words and read a bit before and a bit after to judge if it was relevant for me.

 You'll find by novel, each relevant quote on 'inn' or 'hotel'. I posted it on another post because it turned out to be really big...
Then my fellow bloggers. 
folks & tales


This post mentions London places, which helped me a lot because I needed to be sure they EXISTED much similarly to what we have today and not exactly tidbits about each one. But it has! Wow, great job!
- Grenier's Hotel in Jermyn Street houses friends of the Prince Regent. (the heroin of my novel 'Letters to Dora' lives there!);
- Claredon Hotel had a chef that formerly worked for Louis 18, King of France;
- Grillon's Hotel hosted the very same Louis 18 in 1814;
- Steven's Hotel was fashionable for army men and men about town;
- Mivart's was the hot spot in Mayfair.

 The Londonist lists old hotels but not as old as Regency. I used this informations to start my research when writing ALL THOSE DUKES. It is a lovely list. 
Here are the older ones:
- Mivart's, later called Claridge's (till today), was founded in 1812,
- Brown's Hotel was founded in 1837 by former servants of Lord Byron.

 This is another great post with lots of juicy details, now for coaching inns. This is something I am always in doubt and I was very glad to have found it.
It talks about the daily dealings, how it all worked, food and accommodations, Royal mail routine, everything.

Finally, the historical archives
regrom

Let me tell you that I did research, a little each day but not extensively. As you'll find out when you read DIRTY PETTICOATS, a hotel is only a tiny bit of the story and as much as learning historical stuff gives me pleasure, I do have a ton of other things to do.

 So, two references:

 'The Gentleman's magazine and Historical Chronicle' 
From July to December, 1819 by Sylvanys Urban, Gent. London.

"This evening the town of Warwick was illuminated in honour of His Royal Highness the Prince Regent's visit to the Castle; and on the next evening, Warwick was again more splendidly illu. minated than on the preceding night. The Warwick Arms Hotel, the Swan, the wool Pack, and the Globe, displayed allegorical and emblematic devices on the occasion. Many of the distinguished visitors, and most of the principal inhabitants, paraded the streets to a late hour, and brilliant fire-works were displayed in all the open spaces."

 containing an account of all the direct and cross-roads; together with a description of every remarkable place, its curiosities, manufactures, commerce, population, and principal inns; to which are added pleasure tours to the most picturesque parts of the country; with a new and correct list of mail coach routes; the whole forming a complete guide to every object worthy the attention of travellers.
London : Leigh and Son, 1839.

 "Adjoining Bristol is the town of Clifton, situated on a lofty rock overhanging the Avon. Here are the Hot Wells, a great resort of invalids during the summer, for whose accommodation there are numerous lodging-houses, a pump- room, a ball-room, coftee-houses, &c. Inns; Gloucester Hotel, Clifton Hotel, Bath Hotel, York House or Steam Packet Hotel, Swan, Cumberland Hotel, Plume of Feathers, &c. The Avon here flows between rocks of immense height, and the scenery is of the most beautiful description."

 So... I do have all I need to go about my business in a hotel in the middle of country Regency England where Lizzy is about to make Darcy really put out!... Well, it'll be for a good cause, really.

 See ya.
xoxo
ALL THOSE DUKES
an off Austen historical love story is available

Postado por às 11:38 0 comentários
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sexta-feira, 11 de outubro de 2019

A Victorian Romance - All those Dukes - chapter 1

Hello!
My new book, ALL THOSE DUKES, a Victorian Romance about trust & secrets is already available!

yay!
I'm very excited about it because the story is so very interesting, full of lovely moments, a few steamy scenes and lots of plot twists. Also, it gives me the jitters because it's been a while since I last (self) published in English.

 I am planning a series of novellas, one for a type of gentleman of the Victorian era. First is the Duke - several in this novel, actually. Quite a lovely nobility title, almost a Prince, very popular nowadays.

Well, mine is not inspired on the Duke of Sussex nor the Duke of Cambridge, but also very charming. Shall we get to know Duck?

 here it is:
ALL THOSE DUKES
a Victorian men novella
chapter 1
One night…
The Nobledon family had a long line of nobility and honor. 

 With a lineage of great men that lasted for centuries, the Nobledons had been war heroes always fighting for what cause was believed to be crucial for Great Britain. Crucial also for the family’s fortune as titles piled until one of those brave men who defended the great Queen Anne was made Duke of Somerchester in the early 1700s. From the time when nobility risked their necks at the war field to modern 1855 when they battled in politics, the bloodline came to Duck Nobledon, current Marquess of Somerchester, son of Reginald Francis Nobledon, the Duke.  

 Duck was not his Christian name, certainly. Francis Edgard, the Nobledon heir, had been such a way nicknamed by an old nanny for his tone of voice, very particular indeed, not in the least inherited from any of his ancestors – especially his father. In appearance, from tender age the Marquess was also very different from the short dark Duke, no matter how much he tried to copy his father’s elegance or wiseness. To no one in the family but him it seemed odd that he was a tall and fair lad. 

 ‘One day you’ll grow dark.’ His mother said. ‘You have a Duke’s blood in you.’

 ‘One day your beard will darken your cheeks, your lordship.’ His first valet advised.

 That day never came. Instead, as his years advanced, he became fairer, taller and stronger. His voice went lower and huskier, very different from the clear sing-song gentlemanly tone of his elegant father. At first, ‘duck’ was an endearment the Marquess disliked and then, as it caught, he embraced the sweet joke because the lightheartedness made it easier to hide the suspicion tainting his heart.

 As an open wound poked time and time again, very upsetting was the reaction of strangers when facing father and son together. There was a sequence of frown - lips’ pursing - eye averting and finally, due to the consequence of the Dukedom, the inevitable ‘Congratulations, your grace, on the outstanding lineage. Quite a gorgeous heir!’ 

 Duck always heard the compliment as a criticism on his father’s physical attributes.  That was one of the reasons why he had accepted the far post as Her Majesty’s extraordinary and plenipotentiary envoy to Spain.

 After a prolonged stay in the continent, in the evening of his arrival back home, the scrutiny of strangers was the situation he encountered at The Golden Plate, the finest restaurant in Mayfair. He’d rather dine at the gentlemen’s club where everyone knew them, but his father, proud of his worldly countenance, suggested something more extravagant. Unfortunately, the meal was shortened to 4 dishes as the Duke’s health didn’t allow more. 
getty

 ‘I am sorry, my boy. Your mamma would never forgive me for preventing you from having the veal you so like.’

 Duck chuckled. ‘She left this Earth five years ago, no complaint will come from her; and it is of no importance, father. I am sure you commissioned the veal and the other remaining courses. Surely a feast will be waiting for us at home.’

 The Duke raised his shoulders as they waited for their coach at the highly lit lobby; his most perfect son had predicted his actions. A bout of coughing would ruin his attitude, so he did his best to swallow the throat discomfort. 

 ‘Your grace?’

 They both turned when someone called.

 ‘Shsh, uncle! Don’t embarrass us!’ A hushed reprimand.

 ‘Brother, don’t bother his grace…’ An older female voice.

 ‘Please, your grace.’ The white haired, round bellied, smiley man insisted. ‘Hannibal Johnson, DS Tea & Silk Imports Company.’

 ‘Of course, of course. How do you do, sir?’ The Duke forced a smile as the man bowed and the women lowered in a curtsey.

 ‘What a formidable surprise to find your grace here, I say! Most rarely seen outside these days.’ Johnson seemed very pleased in having the distinguished connection. ‘I am very well indeed, your grace. May I ask of your tiredness?’

 ‘Oh, you know…’ The Duke chanced a fast glance at Duck and found him frowning. ‘Better. Now I have my son with me, his company sure gives me great fortitude.’

 ‘Such excellent company, indeed!’ Johnson turned to the tall young man. ‘My lord Marquess.’ Another bow.

 ‘Good evening, Mr. Johnson’, Duck answered hoping his footman would arrive as if magic to announce their coach was ready and he could avoid the frown -  lips’ pursing - eye averting – exaggerated compliment, but, alas… The man and his two companions, an old funny looking woman of the same years as him and the young pretty girl, the three of them were obviously engaged on the aggravating comparing ritual.

 ‘Your grace was never short of words describing the many accomplishments of milord Marquess, only failed to mention his handsomeness.’

 ‘Brother!’ The older woman hissed.

 The Duke chuckled. ‘Do not fret, madam, I am indeed used to Johnson’s enthusiasm.’ A cough and a sigh. ‘My son has just returned from the continent; we were celebrating our reunion.’ An elegant hand gesture indicated the big stairs that conducted patrons to the salon.

 ‘We have come for the same reason, a formidable coincidence! My niece arrived from Paris this very afternoon; it has been years since she was last in London with us.’ The white haired man smiled fondly at the young girl. ‘Isn’t she a beauty, your grace? My late sister’s eyes, the brains of a genius!’

 ‘A scientist, your grace!’ The older woman gushed. ‘So young and handsome, dedicated to science!’

 ‘Do make formal introductions, Johnson. England is in dear need of geniuses these days.’ The Duke blinked tired eyes.

 ‘Milord, I believe you remember my sister from the import offices, she helps with the shipments, Frederica James, widow of J. James solicitor.’ Johnson said with pomp. ‘And here is my sweet niece, Jessica Ellen Dearstring, fruit of the union of our much missed sister with my good friend and partner in business.’

 ‘Pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Dearstring.’ The Duke bowed his head ever so slightly. 

 So did Duck. ‘Miss.’

 ‘Mrs., milords.’ Ellen smiled shyly returning from a curtsey. ‘As my aunt, I am a widow.’ As she said it, a deep blush took over her cheeks because all eyes were directed to her instantly. Not only the Duke’s and Marquess’ who had been half-heartedly interested in her but also her aunt’s and her uncle’s.

 Ellen had indeed caught the noble man’s attention. ‘I do remember Dearstring, Johnson, don’t I? Wasn’t he who sent me excellent tea choices from India?’

 ‘The same, your grace.’ Johnson shook his head. ‘The best partner and friend one could have. A brilliant mind for business. Strong man he was, brought to his knees by a tiny animal no one gives importance.’ He frowned with anger. ‘One day the surgeons will notice the malice of mosquitoes, I tell you.’

 ‘And the daughter uses her maiden name after widowing? Or have you married a cousin?’

 ‘A series of misfortunes, your grace.’ Ellen hurried to answer before her verbose uncle. ‘So many losses, I chose to leave that much grief in Mumbai when I moved to Paris.’

 ‘I understand, Mrs. Dearstring. I am a widower myself.’

 ‘My condolences, your grace.’ She curtseyed again.

 ‘And mine to you.’ He again moved his head, but everyone could see his countenance was each minute more subdued, as if the Duke were a candle about to blow out. ‘You inherited the knack for science from your husband, I suppose.’

 ‘She has her own mind, your grace, one day milord has to find time to allow her to measure you! What an ingenious little study it is, bones and structures of a person!’

 ‘No one cares for that in England, only our Jessica Ellen! She is breaking ground.’ Her aunt nodded smiling.

 ‘Well, anthropometry is not such a revolutionary study.’ She smiled sideways, eyes showing mirth and love for her aunt and uncle’s praises. ‘Leonardo Da Vinci’s Vitruvian man dates from late 15th century.’

 ‘Isn’t it the technic used to identify criminals?’ Duck had all his attentions on the pretty woman, the widow of young years and delicate manners, scientist of law enforcement.

 ‘Yes, yes, milord!’ She smiled. ‘Monsieur Bertillon has been having excellent results in forensics!’

 ‘Do you work with him?’ Duck forced himself not to respond the smile, the subject was extremely odd and he was worried for his father’s health. ‘I am an envoy to Spain; whatever helps us keep justice is useful. Dry borders are not easy to protect.’

 ‘Oh, no, milord.’ Ellen shook her head, lips locked together. ‘I study genealogy, purely academic sense to the matter.’

 ‘Ah, I see.’ He nodded.

 Eager for the opportunity to impress the men of consequence, Johnson took Ellen’s hand to tuck in the crook of his arm. ‘She used to be a regular at the Sorbonne.’

 ‘She even has a diploma!’ Frederica announced.

 ‘Now she needs a husband, I say.’ The uncle patted the young woman’s hand on his arm. ‘Am I right, your grace? A handsome girl, a formidable mind, she must be in need of a man to find purpose. If she only dedicated to the art of choosing a suitor with the same ardor as she cares for science...’

 ‘Any gentleman would be lucky to spouse Mrs. Dearstring, I am sure.’ The Duke said in a voice that could be called faint if the man wasn’t so polite.

 ‘Finding oneself a marriage cannot be done in haste, uncle.’ Ellen answered blushing, under her hoop skirts she bounced on her legs out of sheer embarrassment. 

 ‘Eventually it shall be done.’ The uncle insisted.

 A new breath of vitality seemed to reach the Duke as he turned to his son. ‘Have you two met before?’

 ‘No.’ Duck shook his head.

 ‘Are you positive?’

 ‘Absolutely.’

 ‘Have milord cruised with my Jessica Ellen in the continent, your grace, is this what you say?’ Johnson blinked, Ellen frowned.

 The Duke had an amused expression on his aged face. ‘Mrs. Dearstring’s words are almost verbatim what I have been hearing since my son reached adulthood.’ A chuckle. ‘I wonder if they arranged this meeting here at The Golden Plate.’

 ‘Please, father.’ Duck shook his head. ‘Forgive his sense of humor, Mrs. Dearstring.’ It was his time to blush. ‘He makes fun of me for refusing schemes of vile matchmakers interested in our titles.’
Ellen shook her head, but didn’t answer.

 ‘My son always said to me that he would find a companion when time provided opportunity to weigh all qualities and defects in a perfect lady; being that task arduous, I needed not to expect an announcement soon.’ The Duke tilted his head.

 ‘My niece is a bit more direct in her words, I guess.’

 ‘Same message.’

 ‘Indeed…’

 Under the scrutiny of both the Duke and the uncle, Duck and Ellen blushed even more. She wanted to escape, thought about catching her aunt’s eyes to ask for help, but it’d be incredibly rude to abandon a Duke and a Marquess. Luckily they were saved by a footman arriving.

 ‘Our coach is here, my funny father.’ Duck waved at the door.
‘I bid you good night, Johnson.’

 A bow. ‘Farewell, your grace. I shall see to the safe delivery of your shipment later this week.’

 ‘I thank you.’ With elegance, the Duke moved his head almost imperceptibly. ‘Mrs. James, Mrs. Dearstring.’

 ‘Your grace.’ Both women curtseyed.

 ‘Good evening.’ Duck bowed.

 Johnson bowed back, the women curtseyed again.

 .
‘Frankly, father, was it necessary?’ Duck shook his head as his father chuckled. ‘You practically pushed me towards the widow.’

 ‘Pretty one, she is. Smart, intelligent, didn’t fall for your handsome features or bass voice… Not one compliment! Kudos to Mrs. Dearstring!’ A cough and a sigh. ‘Ah… To be young enough for widows and debutants…’
selling antiques
‘Old man has had too much wine.’ Duck muttered as their coach rocked on the streets of London from Mayfair to Kensington were their small palace was seated. ‘Pretty eyes, smelled good too. I do admire a perfumed lady.’ Especially if she had a well-proportioned face, quite symmetrical. Pretty nose, bright round eyes, heart shaped mouth. Very pleasing figure too, narrow waist and nice bust. Good height for him. If he were bound to notice.

 Another chuckle from the father.

 ‘But a woman of science? Really?... How odd. Didn’t you think it odd the manner she spoke of marriages?’

 ‘Yes!’ A cough. ‘Exactly as you do!’ The cough mixed with chuckles did not stop this time.

 .
‘Uncle, you are a menace! Worse than the mosquitoes you hate.’ Ellen hissed as they sat around the table at the fancy restaurant. ‘If my dad was here, he would kill you! Exposing me in front of a single man! Were you selling me off? Am I on auction?’

 ‘If those mosquitoes had left your father alone, you wouldn’t be doing half of your antics, girl.’ Johnson smiled back. ‘Have you met the Marquess before and didn’t tell me?’

 ‘No!’

 ‘The Duke is a good client. Tell me the truth.’

 ‘I am!’

 ‘How come you two think the same on marriage-’

 ‘Can you two please behave?’ Frederica held both her niece’s and brother’s hand over the table. ‘I always wanted to visit this fancy restaurant and have oysters, I am going to eat oysters in peace with my two favorite people in the world. Understood?’

 ‘Yes, aunt.’

 ‘Yes, Freddy.’
‘Good. Now, tell me of ladies’ hats in Paris, Jessica Ellen.’


more details & links about this book here

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