Category: romance

A Designing Woman 1 for #wewriwa

More from the Proto-steampunk book

Welcome to Weekend Writing Warriors.  This is a sample from my latest work in progress, “A Designing Woman”, and I hope you enjoy it. Mr. Williams has come for a visit, the day after the assembly, and is waiting in the library. Like most libraries of the time, it was more for show than reading. He’s found his way to Amanda’ corner and is strangely interested in what he finds.

Instead of the unused order that characterized the rest of the library, he came to a section that was in active chaos. He picked up one book that was lying open, face down, and read, “Principles of Mechanics.” He frowned at the equations it contained. Then he smiled to himself and put it back. A disorderly stack of pages was tucked into a corner of the room nearby. They were full of drawings and calculations; all were done in a fine feminine hand.
He paged through the sheets and studied Amanda’s work. As he gazed with interest at a calculation of the optimum size for a piston, he was interrupted from behind.
“That’s my daughter’s trash. I try to remind her to be tidy.”
This is a work in progress. Here are links on tablo and authonomy.  Apparently Steampunk implies Victorian, Dieselpunk the 1920’s. What-punk should a Regency period book be? Horse-punk isn’t right.

Google’s being dashed odd – the only way I can reply to comments is to edit the post. Oh well, there’s always wordpress.

I’m calling this proto-steampunk simply because I was told in no uncertain terms that “steampunk” meant Victorian with ubiquitous steam technology. Amanda’s working before that and during the Regency, so it cannot be steampunk.

“A Formulaic Romance” Work at its inception.

Just to show you how I work. This is the plot sketch for my next Regency romance. I’m thinking of calling it “A Formulaic Romance,” though that will probably change.  
I like to write an outline for the story, but am fully aware that it will change as the characters develop. Still, it gives me a framework for getting on with things. Scrivener is supposed to be great for this step, but I’ve had mixed results with it. 
 The outline is a bit sparse, and not completely grammatical, but it’s not really meant for anyone other than me.
Chemist (male) is disturbed when a carriage loses a wheel or breaks its mainbrace outside his house. He’s the proverbial “billionaire recluse scientist” scaled to regency time.
They interact, sparks sort of fly, then she takes off after the carriage is fixed.
He goes to London (Oxford, Cambridge, Bath?) to present his results (Royal Society?)
She’s in the audience, with a beau? She didn’t know it was him she met on the road. They may say hello at the end of his lecture (basically chemical magic show).
Anyway, Hero is disturbed by family insisting he take a break. Could be a serious enough accident that he needs time away (Hg, Ether, fumes, Halocarbons?) from the bench. Sister/female cousin/Aunt insists that he goes dancing. (see complication below, she could say “You don’t want X to inherit? Time you found a wife. Yes Aunt Augusta).
Runs into heroine again. Almack’s or some party or both.
They run into each other, say at the museum, or out riding, or even (if not Almacks Vauxhall (season was the summer ending sept 1 +-, Almacks was Jan – April/May).
Now they are noticing each other. There has to be some complication
{ complication ideas:
She doesn’t like not knowing that he’ll be safe.
He’s framed for poisoning someone by a not quite so rich relative who will inherit if he dies without issue. (could be after they declare their love and publish a note in the times) Beau from before could be the relative, or in line for inheritance.
}
Complication is resolved. If it’s the poisoning, she does something dramatic like drinking ‘the poison’ in court. Or there could be some skullduggary. (Gaolbreak, followed by chase, followed by finding the critical information in villain’s home.) Heroine proves he’s innocent, maybe by doing the experiment to show that the solution which was supposed to be Arsenic/Antimony was nothing but wine. Could be after he’s on the way to the gallows?

More Progress.

A decent cover and a much better title. Will be putting it up on Authonomy soon. (It’s there but needs updating and release, but they’ve approved me as a non-spam author. What do they have against processed pork products?)

After the convergence #4 8-10 sentences for #WeWriWa

More about Sarah

Welcome to Weekend Writing Warriors.  This is a sample from my latest work, and I hope you enjoy it. It continues after Alan has been interviewed by the machine. This selection is part of where Sarah Gonzales is introduced. She’s important, mostly by her absence in the first part of the book – she disappears – but takes a much more active role later. She’s just gone through “the selection”, a rather brutal sorting out of who is smart enough to go to “the academy” and work with or on “The Machine.” It’s done in school, in front of everyone. However, after that there seems to be a problem. While it’s not really emphasized, this is a critical clue to what’s happening in the story.




The machine beside him spoke, “Mr. Anderson, please, I don’t make that kind of mistake.”
They proceeded to discuss her as if she weren’t there.
“She doesn’t seem to have the depth we require; she is decent in logic and is highly imaginative, but.”
“Have you checked the date and signature?”
Sarah drifted off into her own world.
Lord Pershore pulled his sword and stealthily approached the highwaymen. They bound Lady Sarah Jane Gonzales and were carrying her off to their lair, a run-down public house near the Bath road.
“Ms. Gonzales, pay attention, please,” it was that man again. She stood and said, “Well if I’ve failed, I’ve failed; I’ll just go now.”
“No you haven’t; it looks like someone from the resistance has been at work; you don’t know anyone in the mutual impedance society?”

This work was recently published and is available for Kindle, including Kindle unlimited. It is a dark, noir detective story set in the near future, after machines have become intelligent. It uses a number of engineering/science puns – the “mutual impedance society.” 
Available here.

Progress, I guess.

I finished the first draft of my latest. It’s on writeon (there’s not a way to give it a link), and maybe Authonomy.  I’ve changed the title, and have a not ready for prime time cover.

So it’s a step forward, but not as far as I’d like. Anyway, if someone is so daft as to want to read it, I’d be happy to send an advance copy.

Incoming. Extract from my next one. Steam and Secrets?

The weekend warrior post is here

This is a regency-punk? work set in 1809. It combines steam, ciphers, codebreaking, and espionage, with a chase and sweet romance. Still working on a title.  I’ve just crossed the 50K barrier, so it’s approaching the intensive edit stage.

In any case I’d love to hear what you think.

Lady Caterham’s Difficult Daughter.

“Amanda Jane Elizabeth Grace, what have you done to yourself?” Lady Caterham wailed at her daughter. “You’re covered in grease, and we must leave for the assembly in an hour.” Amanda stood in the doorway of Lady Caterham’s room, awaiting instructions from her mother. Lady Caterham sat at her dressing table while she gave instructions to her daughter. Lady Caterham’s maid was waiting to put the finishing touches on her mistresses’ gown and hair while Lady Caterham dressed down her slovenly daughter.
“I was just repacking the bearings. We don’t want the wheels to fall off our carriage, do we? The roller bearings Sam and I put together turn so much easier than the old wooden axle, and I think you’ll like the way we’ve sprung the box. It-.”
“And that’s another thing young lady. Playing around with machines. Why, look at those hands. Even if Mary can clean the grime from under your nails, what man would look twice at you with those hands?”
“There’s more to life than men, mother.”
“No there isn’t, at least not for a young lady of refinement like yourself. Do you want to die an old maid, alone and forgotten?”
“No, not as such. It’s just. Well. Oh dash it Mother, the man for me won’t be upset with a little grease and the odd broken nail.”
“One more thing young lady, watch your language. Where did you ever pick up such an expression? Keeping company with that blacksmith?”
“Oh no Mother. Sam is very polite. At least when I’m present. Ask Mary about him if you want confirmation. It’s Freddy and his friends, when they come in from the hunt, who use such expressions. I thought.”
Lady Caterham spat out, “You don’t think. That’s the problem.”
“I do. If my brother can say it, and far worse, then it’s suitable language.”
“Suitable for a man that is. Now go, get cleaned up. We must not be too late for the assembly. Not if you want a dance.”
“Yes, Mother.”
Lady Caterham ignored the tone of that last remark and watched as her eldest daughter, a striking, tall, auburn-haired young woman walked off to change into the dress of a refined and cultured young lady.
“My Lady,” Millicent, her maid, pointed out, “Miss Amanda will have no trouble attracting male attention. She’s a fine looking young woman. As you were at her age.”
“That’s true, but she’d look so much better without that black grease streak covering her forehead and staining her hair, or that house-dress. It’s just so torn and patched, stained with who knows what, and covered in grease. How can she stand to wear it?”
“I don’t know Ma’am, but she’ll be presentable, even elegant. Mary will see to it.”
“I’m sure she will, but I so wish Amanda would focus on the important things in life. Like marriage, men and children. Get her head out of the clouds.”
“Or the steam, Ma’am. I’ve heard that the 20th regiment is stationed nearby. There should be plenty of fine young men, officers in their red-coats. That should catch her eye and turn her thoughts in the right direction.”
Lady Caterham thought for a few moments and then replied, “I hope so. Although last time, she ended up talking all night to an engineering officer from the artillery. A nobody, who was a captain just because he’d been to school at the Royal Military Academy in Woolwich and knew how to move guns and build fortifications. It would have been better to leave her home. What’s the point of going to the assemblies if you don’t flirt with eligible men?”
Much to Lady Caterham’s relief, and fully justifying the expense of hiring her, Mary turned Amanda out dressed in the proper mode of a young lady. The grease was gone from her face and her auburn hair was immaculate, as were her muslins. She wore a simple string of pearls, suitable for a young woman venturing into the wilds of society. While no amount of cleaning could restore her hands and nails to the pristine state that was so important in a fashionable young woman, she would be wearing gloves. They would hide most of the damage. One did not hold hands without something between you and the young man.
Amanda did nothing that spoiled Lady Caterham’s trip. While she may have cast an eye over the bearings, axles and springs, she didn’t stop to play with them. Indeed, without the squeaks, the jarring and the shaking normal in a carriage, Lady Caterham arrived at the assembly in a remarkably refreshed state. When they arrived at the assembly, one of the officers, a captain, swept Amanda away. He led her onto the dance floor for the first country dance of the evening. All in all, it made for an outstanding start to the evening.
The vicar’s wife, Mrs. Peabody, addressed Lady Caterham, while she and the other mothers watched their daughters perform the figures on the floor. “Lady Caterham, I know you suffer in the carriage rides and I was planning to offer to chaperone your daughter, but it looks like you’re well. Did you find a cure for the travel sickness? I only ask because I suffer too.”
Despite her misgivings about Amanda’s mechanical interests, Lady Caterham’s bosom swelled with pride as she said, “It was Amanda’s doing. She redid the springs and the axles on our carriage. It was such a smooth and quiet ride that I barely noticed we were moving.”
“She did? I must say, she is a clever girl.”
“And see, she’s dancing with.” Lady Caterham stopped, “Who is that?”
“Oh, that’s Captain Williams’ cousin. He’s studying divinity, at Oxford.”
“A suitable connection?”
“Absolutely, quite nearly related to the Fairfax’s. They say he will inherit a sizable income. With his family connections, he’s bound to become a bishop.”
Lady Caterham smiled at Mrs. Peabody. “In other words, a connection to be encouraged. I do so hope Amanda will find something other than machines to tinker with.”
“I agree, a husband and children will soon put her head straight. Settle her down.”
Their happy optimism about Amanda’s prospects would have been tempered had they been able to hear her conversation with the young man. While good looking with blue eyes, dark hair and a firm visage, able to dance the figures with a natural athletic grace, polite, educated and well mannered, he was also a serious disappointment.
“Mr. Williams, you’re studying divinity?”
“A suitable study for a gentleman, honorable and in the service of both man and God.”
“If you say so, but with a chance to meet Dalton or Henry or Davy or,” and here Amanda gave a frisson of excitement, “Even Faraday. You have the chance to study natural philosophy with such masters, and you choose divinity.”
“What’s wrong with divinity?”
“Nothing, except.”
“Except what?”
“It’s so commonplace. I’d cut off my right arm to study with any one of those men and you’re just wasting the opportunity.”
Mr. Williams was nonplussed. Unable to think of anything witty, eventually he replied, “Please don’t do that. You have a pretty, indeed beautiful right arm. It wouldn’t look right, replaced with a hook.”
Amanda smiled back and laughed as she said, “I didn’t mean it literally, but I’d kill someone for the chance you have and are throwing away.”
“Please don’t do that either. I suppose I could try law.”
Amanda’s grimace suggested that option was, if anything, even less appealing than divinity.
“In my defense, none of the masters you mentioned are fellows at Oxford.”
“Still, there must be someone.”
Despite her misgivings about divinity students, Amanda couldn’t help feeling disappointed when the dance drew to a close and it was time for the supper break. Mr. Williams bowed and returned to his cousin’s company, while she found her mother.
Lady Caterham’s interests and hopes were peaked, and she asked, “So, Amanda, what did you think of him? He has real prospects.”
“About Mr. Williams?”
“Who else?”
“He seems a nice enough man. Although I wish he were doing something with his education. Something worthwhile.”
“Damning me with faint praise?” It was Mr. Williams. He had walked up behind them and was carrying two cups of punch. “Miss Caterham, I thought you could use this, after your exertions on the dance floor, and with the crush.”
Amanda blushed at his attention, then curtsied, accepted the punch from him and said “Thank you. I didn’t mean to disparage you.” Her mother beamed at Mr. Williams, but fortunately showed her good sense and stayed silent.
He replied, “You didn’t say anything that you hadn’t told me to my face. It is true, divinity is dull work, but I never had much aptitude for natural philosophy.”
Lady Caterham loudly whispered, cautioning her daughter, “Amanda, behave. Watch that tongue of yours.” Mr. Williams did not fail to notice Amanda rolling her eyes at the admonishment, nor that she kept smiling at him.
He added, “It may be a liberty, but could I ask for a third dance? That is if you are free.”
“She accepts,” Lady Caterham injected.
“Mother, please. That is so fast, to dance three dances with the same man. What about my reputation?”
“What harm can there be when the man is so obviously moral. When do you take orders, Mr. Williams?”
“Early next year, when I finish my studies at Oxford. Miss Caterham, if you would rather not dance with me, I’d be disappointed but willing to release my claim.”
“No, no, I didn’t mean that. Yes, I’d love to dance with you again. Please. Even two more times.”
“Twice more is excessive,” Lady Caterham added.
When the next dance started, another country dance that would let the participants converse between the figures, Mr. Williams asked, “So Amanda, why are you so interested in natural philosophy?”
Amanda blushed, “Not philosophy, engines, power, steam. Ever since I saw Trevithick’s engine in London, I’ve wanted to build one of my own.”
“Indeed? Tell me about it. Have you made much progress?”
“Well, I don’t have any engines, right now. Sam and I are building another one. It will be a corker.”
“Sam?”
“Mr. Perkins, my maid’s husband, a blacksmith.”
“So not a rival.”
Amanda laughed, “Good Lord, no.”
“Good. So if you don’t have an engine, what else are you interested in?”
Amanda paused until the next chance to talk, and then replied, “Bearings, bearings and springs.”
“Bearings?”
“I want to go fast, very fast, so quickly that the axles would smoke and the wheels fall off with a regular carriage. Sam and I can build the engine and the gears, but need a carriage that will handle the power.”
“I suppose your family approves?”
“What they don’t know won’t hurt them.”
“If you say so, Miss Caterham, but I’ve found keeping secrets leads one into sticky situations.”
“What do you know of secrets? Studying for the clergy, I’d assume you lived a tame life.”
Mr. Williams stopped, stunned that she would shoot so near the mark, interrupting the dance figure for a few seconds. “More than I can tell you.” Then he quickly resumed the dance.
Amanda was piqued, “So you have a secret, or are you just offering me a nut to crack open as a puzzle?”
“I hope you’ll find the meat at the heart of this nut to your liking.”
“Are you trying to flirt with me?”
“Yes. Trying, not succeeding.”
“If you’re like most men I’ve met it’s just a conker, hard on the outside, bitter and inedible on the inside. What brings you to the wilds of Sodbury?’
“That I can answer directly. I’m on a repairing lease. Been burning the candle at both ends too long at the ‘varsity.”
“Daily Compline and Evensong too much for you?”
“One might say that.”
“From what my brother Frederick says, it’s probably the all-night drinking and parties on the Cherwell.”
Mr. Williams smiled at her, which she took for confirmation. Then he added, “It’s the all-nighter’s in any case. I was told to rest, and leave off it until I recovered.”
“Have you recovered?”
“I’ve made great strides. Dancing with beautiful women helps immensely.”
The music ended. Mr. Williams and Amanda bowed to each other. Good manners dictated that she dance with other partners. For some reason the officers who were available and willing seemed curiously flat. Good dancers, elegantly mannered, but deficient in conversation.
The evening ended well, at least the dancing did. Partway back to Caterham hall, when the carriage went over a steep bump, there was snap. It was followed by a gentle hiss and the box leaned to the right.
Lady Caterham was startled, “What was that?”
“One of the seals broke. Blast.”
“Amanda! What did I tell you about your language.”
“I’m sorry. It’s just Sam and I put such a lot of effort into building the springs. To have one fail so quickly. It’s highly annoying.”
‘”I just wish, Amanda, that you would pay attention to the important things in life, marriage and men.”
“Mother.”

After the Convergence is out for kindle

My latest, After the Convergence, a cyberpunk crime story set in a not too distant dystopia is now out for Kindle. I like the cover, a set of memory chips, a fedora (well almost) and a Glock.

The murder of his partner lands the hard-bitten private investigator Alan Blake in the middle of a complex international plot involving spies, crooks, resistance fighters, intelligent machines, and treacherous former loves. Never sure of what is the truth in a shadowy half-virtual world, he pursues the “missing person” case of an intelligent and beautiful young woman. A woman who was spirited away on the day she joined “The Academy.” How could she be hidden in a world where the omnipresent machines monitor everything you do and say? He searches the morally ambiguous fringes of society, only to find a human trafficking conspiracy dedicated to replacing the intelligent computers of today with ones made from humans. Can he rescue her before it is too late?

The next book

It turns out with the changes in writeon, one of the easiest ways to push excerpts out there, like for my latest book is to use a direct link to it.

The first draft is about 90% complete. I’ve finally settled on a reasonable title, “The Curious Profession of Dr. Craven” and am beginning the long process of editing, publicizing and all that rot.

It’s a sweet romance, set in 1810 so I guess it’s a regency romance, and it’s more than a bit Gothic. It starts with the heroine waking up after she’s been buried alive, had her body stolen from the crypt and taken to an anatomist. The trauma has left her memory somewhere else, and she slowly recovers. Once that happens, a complicated story ensues involving fake identities, false French Dukes at Almack’s and various subterfuges until it all works out in the end and they figuratively ride of into the sunset together. Or at least to the vicar’s to post the Bann’s. 

A teaser.

While I’m still debating with myself how much to put here, I’m happy to put a teaser.  The book I’m working on right now is “A Dark Place.” It’s an experiment at writing a Gothic romance in the spirit of works like “the Castle of Udolpho” with skeletons and all that rubbish.

It starts with a grave robbing, and the heroine waking up shortly before she’s anatomized. She remembers almost nothing of her former life, and the doctor who was about to dissect her is the classic combination of stud and mystery. (Although he is careful to follow the conventions.  In Regency times holding hands without gloves before marriage was a serious event.)  Via a complicated set of twistings and turnings, including being an abortive wedding with someone else, they finally hitch up.

I’ve had difficulties with scrivener keeping things I wanted to change. Decorrecting spellings and various mysterious ghostly happenings. I want those in the plot, not the word-processor. So while it’s great for laying out the plot, I’ve reverted to doing the actual writing with LibreOffice.

Review of Sweet Dreams by Jennifer Senhaji

Sweet Dreams is a well-written hot, sensual, and sexy tale of love. Written in the first person, it is a point of view story of the developing love between the narrator and the handsome A-list actor Jacob Walker. Jake and the narrator, Jenna, first meet in an elevator when she is on the way to consult with her attorney. Jake tracks her down to her cafe, the Sweet Dreams Cafe, and their love percolates over $5 cups of coffee and blueberry muffins. Eventually, he shows up at closing and walks her home. Even actors can be shy, and it takes them more than a few false starts and tribulations to establish their friendship. It almost doesn’t work out but-. Well, I’m not going to spoil the plot in a review. Let’s just say Que dice “Hot, sexy and a great read” en l’Italiano.