How
I research My Regency romances.
Raven
McAllan
I
never ever thought I'd write Regency romance. Or any historical story to be
honest.
Yes, I loved history, (still do for that matter) but after
researching for school and university, I thought that would be it. How wrong
can you be?
For
years I was the archetypical, I want to write a book someday person. Oh I did
submit and get rejected (quite rightly so) a couple of times. But I didn't have
my own voice.
Then
one day I was chatting in my crit group and on a dare, my first book was
started. I'd said I'd write Regency. First hurdle. Not only that it was going
to be f/f/m.
Where
to start? Well truly the internet is a wonderful thing. Anyone who didn't know
me, and looking through my history on my laptop would freak. Who is the woman?
From jade dildos to Beau Brummel. Women's underclothes and men's cock rings.
All have been searched and read about. The trouble is, I look for one thing,
and four hours later having had a great time reading, I still haven't actually
found what I was looking for.
I
live in a small village, and we have a mobile library van. Our librarians are
great, and are used to me asking,…"Do you have a book about?" They
search headquarters for me and usually come up trumps. They then like to keep
up with what I'm writing. And read some
of it!
Once
you look, it's amazing what you can find out. I still have an old laptop full
of docs with titles such as... Sex toys C 1800, and Spies in China. I have
notebooks with information jotted in, and a brain full of trivia. Now if only I
could remember where I've put my frequent flyer card!
(I
did see a very interesting jade carved object on a stall at the bottom of The
Fragrant Hills in China. Sadly I didn't buy it, so I can't report if it worked!)
Reading
other people's regency books is interesting. I resisted at first. I was scared
stiff of accidentally plagiarizing. But to be honest, there are so many good (and
not so good) books out there it would be silly to deny myself the pleasure. I
don't when I'm writing though. I'm sure I read somewhere Georgette Heyer
deliberately described things incorrectly so she could check up on copycats.
My
'bible' for a lot of things is the Oxford Dictionary of Slang. It gives dates
of when words were used. So no 'pussy' in 1810, but you can have muff. The 'c'
word which up until recently was frowned upon was in common usage. I cringed
the first time I wrote it. Now it flows off the keys without a problem. In
regency times it was a normal everyday slang word!
Names
are easier. You can always find lists of what was popular when, but I also like
visiting old churchyards. The names on the headstones are a perfect way of
seeing who was christened what and when.
I
do think in one way we have it easier now than when I wrote my first terrible
m/s. (discounting where does chocolate come from, my award winning competition
entry aged 8) I did have a computer but it was a million discs in and out to
use it. And no internet! Now it's Google away!
On
the other hand, all your readers can find it easy to check for mistakes!
My
latest Regency, A most Unusual Mistress, is a slight departure for me. No
ménage. But if you read it you'll soon understand why. Ash couldn't cope with
another person in the relationship. Adriana is more than enough for him!
Blurb
Why be a wife if a mistress has more fun? All Adriana has to do
is get Ashley to agree...
Finding her intended bollocks-deep in his mistress when she is
trembling with wanting and suppressed desires does not impress Adriana. If
being a mistress entails being part of such passion, then a mistress only she
will be.
Ashley, Earl of Addersley, thinks otherwise. He wants a wife on
his terms. Terms that would send this lady of the Ton screaming...or would
they?
An agreement, a challenge, a single night of mind-blowing
passion very well may determine the outcome. Wife or mistress? Which shall it
be?
Excerpt
He leant
toward her. “Later, my love, I will introduce you to a much better way of
tasting champagne. For now I suggest you sip it. Slowly.” For Adriana was
gurgling and choking on her first sip. He patted her solicitously on her back.
“Oh dear, did it go down the wrong way? ‘Tis bad when something does that.” He
paused. “One needs to learn the correct way for anything to slide down your
throat.”
Her face reddened, but she held her peace. How, he knew not, for
he could tell she had a ready retort. He let his hand slide slowly down her
spine, feeling the shiver she gave as he did so.
Suddenly,
he could not wait until that part of the evening ended. For the sooner he
escorted her home, the sooner he could join her and begin her slow sensuous
introduction to seduction. She might say she wished to be his mistress, but
Ashley had no doubt she would soon balk at some of his more extreme preferences.
However, until he reached her refusals, he intended to enjoy all she was
prepared to offer him. He was sure she would not be over- accepting of his
demands, and once her limit was reached, her agreement to their marriage
reinstated, and the ceremony over; he would return to the kind, considerate,
and respecting husband a wife should receive. His more extreme proclivities
would remain shrouded until such time he needed to unleash them. Then he would
do so in the body of someone other than his wife. Someone who would accept and
receive his ministrations without expecting either heart to be involved. He
could not subject Adriana to his dark side. Well, he pondered, not
all of it.
He realized his companions were looking at him quizzically. He
essayed a smile. “Your pardon. I was wool gathering.”
“Wishing
you were elsewhere?” Adriana asked archly.
“Wishing we were elsewhere,” he
corrected.
“Well,
that is easily achieved.” Adriana stood and shook out her skirts. “I am ready
to leave.” She laughingly made her farewell to their companions, ignoring their
knowing looks, and paused for Ashley to do likewise before moving toward the
cloakroom.
He
slipped her cloak around her shoulders as they awaited the arrival of her
carriage. He accepted that his body was on a knife-edge. Strung out with all
his senses heightened, it almost seemed he could feel her heart beat in time
with his, their blood swirling around their bodies and their breathing as one.
Fanciful, but very stimulating. As the carriage pulled up in front of them, he
was punctilious in his manner, guiding her inside and helping her be seated to
her satisfaction. How long had he to begin his campaign? Scant minutes,
unfortunately, but enough for the initial skirmish. He waited until the
carriage had begun to lurch over the cobbles, setting up that familiar thrum in
his rod, before lifting her onto his lap, making sure her skirts were not
trapped between them. His now-rigid tool, which he had swiftly released from
its confines, rubbed deliciously along that warm enveloping hollow between her
cheeks. Her gasp reverberated into the very area of his body that strained to
feel more than the echoes of movement that a mere gasp elicited.
“Soon, my
cock will be more than just rubbing your arse,” he said crudely into her ear,
as he brought one hand to her clit and squeezed it firmly, eliciting another
hiss of breath. “I will have it buried bollocks deep inside it, my balls on
your mound and my dildo in your cunt. You will know not which is pleasure or
pain, so great will be the depth of ecstasy you experience. As I come and fill
you with my seed, you will cry out your completion and shudder around me as I
shudder in you.”
She was
silent. Had he gone too far? For in truth, he had not measured his words and
had spoken from his soul.
“And I,
my lord? What will I do in return?” Her voice was breathy, the arousal
unmistakable.
“You, my love, will enjoy. For I will have you spread-eagled,
tied, and captive, to receive all I choose for you to partake. Until we are
both sated.” Gad, the picture he was painting was painful. All he wanted to do
now was pick up his brush and begin to paint. Her. Over and over until he was
satisfied his vision had nothing comparable. He felt the coach lurch around the
corner, looked out of the window, and identified from the many houses on the
opposite side of the square, that belonging to Adriana. Reluctantly, he lifted
her onto the seat adjacent, ignoring—with difficulty—her soft moan of protest.
A Most Unusual Mistress
is available from
and amazon,
as an ebook or in print along with Wallflowers Don't Wilt, and
To Please A Lady, in one volume entitled Rogue Scandals
Raven can be found at
and Rogue Scandals has a facebook page as well
Yes...yes I did start writing again about 4 years ago. And yes, I loved it...but (because trust me—there is always a butt when I'm around...lol) I never expected anyone to read what I wrote. I never thought about publishing anything...and blogging—oh what a foreign word that was to me.
