Happy Sunday! We have two winners to announce this week. First congratulations to Glenda for winning Julia Tagan’s Stages of Desire, and to Neva for winning Wendy LaCapra’s giveaway of Elizabeth Essex’s book Almost a Scandal!!
I had a great time on the Florida RWA chapter’s Sun in the Fun Cruise. They were a lovely group of people. I was surprised at how many husband’s were there. I also got to know Julia Quinn. We are actually the same height, but she was wearing heels.
Aside from meals, I pretty much stayed in my cabin writing. I cannot tell you how glorious it was to have three days of almost totally uninterrupted writing and editing. I managed to get through most of the last book in The Marriage Game!
Unfortunately, I returned to St. Thomas to an upset husband. Magen’s Bay was working out well for me, but not for him. So we moved to American Yacht Harbor where we are working our way through more repairs.
Here are some pictures of our new, temporary home. He is much happier now that he has people to talk with and not just a wife you gets angry when he interrupts my writing.
I’m off to finish the book. Here is an excerpt of the book I’m working on.
An hour later, Meg, Damon, Georgiana, Sarah, and Alan were practicing their lines for Twelfth Night, when Benson appeared. “Miss Featherton, my lord, the Duke of—”
“Stand aside, man. I told you I don’t need to be announced.” A tall gentleman, who looked to be in his late sixties, pushed the butler aside.
The man’s high-handed rudeness and lack of good breeding was inexcusable. She clamped her lips together to stop herself from engaging in a similar display of incivility. Even without the beginning of the title, Meg would have known exactly who he was. His resemblance to his son was unmistakable. His Grace of Somerset had just thoroughly aroused her fury, and he was about to be taken down a notch or two.
The children lapsed into what had to be stunned silence. They had probably never heard anyone speak to Benson with such distain.
Damon stood, his countenance a mask. If not for the tick in his jaw, she would not have known how angry he was, and she fought keep her temper under control. A fight she might very well lose.
Meg took the hand he held out, rose, curtseyed, and raised a brow just as she had seen the dowager duchess do. No one could suppress pretentions and bad behavior better and more quickly than her grace. “Somerset, I presume.” She glanced at Benson. “I shall apologize for his grace’s conduct as it is clear he will not. You may leave us now.”
Tell me what you did while I was gone.