Wednesday, April 16, 2014


Today I’m thrilled to have Christy Carlyle author of  Scandalous Wager  with me in the  Blue Rose Writing Room. Christy designed my website, so be sure to tootle over there and see what else this amazingly talented woman does!

So, do you use a pen name/pseudo name? If so, why. If not, why did you decide to write under your own name?
I do write under a pen name, more than one, actually. I decided if my writing career went entirely pear-shaped, I would spare my husband’s family any undue shame or embarrassment. As it turns out, they are proud of me, even if romance isn’t their literary cup of tea, but I am still happier and somehow feel liberated when writing under my pen names. J

I understand that completely. My real name is so boring, readers would be snoring before they cracked the book open if I used it.

Tuesday, April 15, 2014


Today I thought it would be fun to share some of the more unusual phrases one might come across as a Regency reader and author. Those who read Regency are familiar with such expressions, but those who aren't, might be left scratching their heads. 

Cut: Basically to renounce an acquaintance with someone. Naturally those of the Regency Era had degrees of ostracism: the cut direct, the cut indirect, the cut sublime, and the cut infernal. 

Daddles: you thought they were something else, didn't you? 

Apple Dumplin Shop - A woman's bosom. Nope, haven't used that one. 

Slow Top-Not to terribly bright; think dim-wit. 

Scandal Broth-Tea. Gee, I thought for sure this was something about gossip.

Foxed-The chap's had a bit to much to drink; Okay a lot too much to drink. 

Spice Islands-A privy...not exactly the association I'd make. 

All these delightful definitions are courtesy of the 1811 Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue. I can't tell you the fun I've had bringing the dictionary out at various functions or toting it to me to book releases and so on. It never fails to inspire copious amounts of giggling. 

Some of my other favorites are bumblebroth, cork brain, cast up one's accounts, scapegrace, and fly into the bows.

Please share some of yours. I love learning new ones! 

Monday, April 14, 2014


It's such a thrill to have my dear friend and fellow Regency author, Ella Quinn, visiting The Blue Rose Writing Room today. She's sharing about her new release, Desiring Lady Caro 

Caro started to wash and stopped. If Nugent didn’t bathe her . . . “Oh no! Who did?”
“I’ve already told you—his lordship.”
“His lordship?”
Nugent turned and gave her the same stern look she’d given Caro since she was three. “That’s what I said.”
Heat rose in her face and chest, and her heart thudded uncomfortably. “How could you have allowed him to—to bathe me?”
Nugent shook out something in a shimmering pale blue and laid it across a chair. “Maybe you’d like to tell me how I was to stop him. I couldn’t lift you, and we had to get your fever down.” She paused for a moment before continuing. “He also helped me undress you after you decided to drink too much.”
Caro wanted to submerge herself under the water and never come up. She wished she could forget he’d seen her inebriated. Tenting her fingers over her forehead, she sank further down into the tub. Nugent was right. She couldn’t have done it herself. But why would he… “I think you’d better tell me everything.”
“I’ve already told you, my lady. His lordship nursed you the whole time you were ill. He would only allow me to help him.” Nugent’s voice softened. “He never left your side. I’m amazed he didn’t take ill himself.”
Caro had helped tend her younger brothers and sisters when they were sick, and the enormity of what Huntley had done amazed her. “But I do not understand why he would take on such a burden.”
“That,” Nugent said with her usual briskness, “is something you’ll have to ask his lordship, and before you do, try to remember he is your husband. Now finish washing. It’s not good to keep a man from his food.”
Caro took the towel from the stool and held it to her as she stepped out of the tub. Once dried, she held her hand out for her nightclothes and received another silk gown. She flushed with embarrassment. “Where are my other ones?”
“Drying. Takes a while when it’s so cold.”
Slipping it on over her head and reaching for the wrapper, she frowned. “I don’t remember buying this.”
“You didn’t. Lady Horatia bought them for you.”
Caro was tired of asking why, and she was even more tired of not having any answers that made sense. Huntley did not want their marriage any more than she did. What would make him care for her? Oh, he said it was because she was his wife, yet was that really the reason? And just because she liked having Huntley around and being held by him, didn’t mean she’d allow him to have marital relations with her more than once.
Caro pressed her hands to her eyes. He’d said it may take more than once. She shook her head. I can’t. I just cannot. Caro shoved the thought away. When—if—the time came, she’d deal with it then. For now, she should concentrate on getting well.

Author Biography

           Amazon and Barnes & Nobel bestselling author Ella Quinn’s studies and other jobs have always been on the serious side. Reading historical romances, especially Regencies, were her escape. Eventually her love of historical novels led her to start writing them.

     She is married to her wonderful husband of twenty-nine years. They have a son and granddaughter, Great Dane and a Chartreux. After living in the South Pacific, Central America, North Africa, England and Europe, she and her husband decided to make St. Thomas, VI home.

     Ella is a member of the Romance Writers of American, The Beau Monde and Hearts Through History. She is represented by Elizabeth Pomada of Larsen-Pomada Literary Agency, and published by Kensington.

Contact Ella: