Remember When . . . We Met the Characters?

Remember When . . . We Met the Characters?

Sometimes it’s a little weird to be on a writing schedule a full year ahead of publication–while I’m brainstorming ideas for a whole new series and wrapping up edits on the final book in the current series, readers are still waiting for book 2’s release in a few months.

But since The Lost Heiress is at least out now, LOL, and I’ve been getting lots of questions about whether book 2, The Reluctant Duchess, is about Brice, I thought I’d take a few minutes to talk about these next hero and heroine.

In short, YES. It’s Brice’s story. 😉 (Wow, that was a short blog. Back to work now…LOL)

In case you haven’t seen the cover yet, here it is, with my heroine, Rowena.

I am so in love with that red dress…*blissful sigh* And the model is a great Rowena. I describe her as having honey brown hair and silver-grey eyes. She’s the heir to a Highland earl (women could inherit titles in Scotland if there were no sons). She’s also in desperate need of a hero to rescue her from a bad situation.

Cue Brice.

When one writes a “perfect” character, one gets a little nervous that reader feedback will be “He’s too perfect! Totally unrealistic!” But given that Brice, called Lord Worthing in The Lost Heiress, was just a secondary character, I guess I got away with it. 😉 Heir to the Duke of Nottingham, some of his confidence no doubt comes from his position in society. And the fact that he’s handsome. (I picture him rather like Justin Gaston…)

But Brice is certainly more than charming. He’s a man of deep faith, and that faith informs everything he does. That faith has given him a knack for seeing things most people don’t, and for knowing when and what to pray that people are always surprised by.

Obviously, Brice needed a fabulous love story. But what kind of love story does the silver-tongued charmer get??

An unexpected one. I had to pair him with someone totally unlike him. Someone who distrusts charmers. Someone who has absolutely no interest in becoming a duchess (Brice has inherited the duchy before the opening of book 2, so that I didn’t have to worry with shifting title names within the book. #YoureWelcome). Someone who at once needs the help he can offer and feels it’s worthless if she can’t help herself.

And Brice, who is always right . . . well, Brice gets a taste of what happens when he assumes he’s right and isn’t. (Cue the maniacal laughter.)

So while Brice isn’t quite “perfect” in this book, he’s still a man of compassion and faith and honor, and I hope the readers who fell in love with him in The Lost Heiress will love him even more in The Reluctant Duchess.

Meanwhile, I need to get back to editing his sister’s story in A Lady Unrivaled. So if y’all will excuse me now . . .

Thoughtful About . . . Active Faith

Thoughtful About . . . Active Faith

My husband came home one evening a while back with quite a story to tell. He’d met a friend of ours at a local Christian restaurant–a blatantly Christian restaurant, mind you, with a Christian name and which is decorated with nothing but Christian art. They were sitting there having some iced tea on one end of the restaurant, when from the other end came a scream, and an older gentleman began convulsing, falling from his chair. His daughter was crying, “Daddy, don’t leave me! Don’t leave me!”

David and our friend jumped out of their chairs and rushed over to help.

They were the first ones there. From the complete opposite end of the restaurant, with a couple dozen others between them and this man, and they were the first ones there.

Were they trained in how to help in a medical emergency? Um, no. But they did the best the could, easing him down so he didn’t hit his head, making sure his airway was clear. Our friend called for the owner to call 911. David tried to keep the daughter calm, then went out to meet the EMTs. Our friend stayed with the man. Prayed for the man.

One other person in the restaurant came over to help. One.

One.

No one else asked if he was okay. If they could help. No one got up to pray with our friend. David’s words were, “They just kept buttering their bread.”

How many times have we all heard the story of The Good Samaritan? How many times have we thought, “Well obviously I’d help”?

Yet here was a restaurant full of presumed Christians, and only 3 got off their rears to do something when someone was collapsing on the floor. Part of me thinks I should be angry about this. But mostly, I’m sad.

We’re not like some of the people we’ve seen in those terrible police-shooting videos, where they just stand there filming while someone’s shot or beaten, even cheering them on. But even if we want to help, too often we don’t. Why?

Because the church is so afraid. And the people are rendered paralyzed. Maybe people think they’ll get in trouble if they try to help but don’t know how–if that’s so, let me assure you that there are Good Samaritan laws protecting you. Maybe those people had thought, “Well someone’s already up…” But haven’t they also heard “Where two or three are gathered in My name…?”

No, we’re not comfortable with the idea of helping in a situation where we’re not qualified. But so often in a situation like that, no one is qualified. What then? Does God expect us to just sit back? No. I daresay the Good Samaritan wasn’t a board-certified physician. But the Lord still expects us to do what we can. And to bombard heaven with our prayers. To put down our bread and butter and storm the gates of heaven on behalf of our brethren.

Sooner or later we’ll all probably find ourselves in a situation similar to this one. Not exact, probably, but similar.

A situation where we can either help or not.

Get up or not.

So the question is…what do you do?

When You Sit Down to Dine with a Duke . . .

When You Sit Down to Dine with a Duke . . .

Yes, I did it. I made things complicated for myself–I wrote a series of books about the nobility of England, complete with all their complicated rules on what to call people.

Even worse, I wrote books about dukes. Who aren’t treated like the rest of the nobility, at least not in speech. Oh no. That would be far too simple.

So I read all I could find on how to address them. I scratched my head at what seemed really weird to me, and double checked it with those fiction writers who have made a career of this sort of thing. They agreed with the weirdness. So I went with it. And, of course, have heard from a few readers that I’ve got it all wrong, LOL. So I went back to those experts, who assures me that, no, I’m right. Small consolation when my readers don’t realize it, snicker, snicker.

But I thought I’d give us all a quick crash course–you know, just in case you’re ever dining with an Edwardian duke.

Now, we have it easy as commoners–the duke is just Your Grace when speaking to him. When speaking of him, you go with the full Duke of Stafford (because that’s the duke in my first book, so what other duke would you possibly want to dine with??) You never, never, never call him “my lord” or “Lord Stafford.” Dukes are too high up the social ladder to get a mere “lord.” If you become very good friends with him (despite your own lowly station, ahem), you may call him “Stafford” without the Duke part.

But what, you ask, if you happen to marry an earl or a marquess or a baron and are yourself titled when you meet him?? Well, that is the question, isn’t it? Then it gets tricky. Other peers (as you’re called) don’t ever say “Your Grace.” I mean, really–that would be beneath you. No, no, you simply call him Duke.

Which is where that weirdness comes in. “Duke?” People say. “What a funny nickname.”

But it’s not a nickname–it’s a term of respect. A bit like saying, “Come this way, Mr. President.” You would say, “Have a seat, Duke.”

In a pinch, you might use a “sir” with him–but again, never, never, never a “my lord” or “Lord Stafford.” You would just use Duke or Stafford.

Unless, of course, you know him really well. Then you might actually give him a nickname. (Yes, even lords and ladies have nicknames!) But what nickname? Because, honestly, they never, never, never use first names–not unless you were the mother or sibling of a titled man. And even then, if it’s a title they had since birth, you’d use the title, not the Christian name. So you’re not going to call them Bill or Joe or Alex. Sorry. No, what they did was shorten or modify the name they went by.

Which was–you guessed it!–their title.

My Duke of Stafford had a friend who loved to come up with odd nicknames. Back before he inherited the duchy, he was Lord Harlow–Thate called him Harry. Then he inherited the title of Marquess of Abingdon–Thate called him Bing. So what did Thate come up with for the Duke of Stafford?

“Stafford . . . Staff . . . which reminds me of a shepherd . . . so Shep!”

More simply, my Lord Whitby would have been called, for instance, Whit. Strange as it seems to us to take a high-faluting title and then un-falute it (let’s pretend that’s a word), they did. We have scores of books of the Victorian and Edwardian era proving it.

I know, I know. The rules are complicated for how to address the nobility, and especially so for dukes and duchesses. But we all must be prepared. So next time you dine with an Edwardian duke, you’ll know just what to do.

12 Books ~ 12 Winners! Giveaway

12 Books ~ 12 Winners! Giveaway

How better to celebrate the arrival of November than with a big ol’ giveaway? The authors of 12 fabulous inspirational historicals have teamed up to bring you this one. And with 12 winners, your chances of bringing home a prize are great!

Giveaway includes:

The Hesitant Heiress by Dawn Crandall
Luther and Katharina by Jody Hedlund
A Refuge at Highland Hall by Carrie Turansky
The Lost Heiress by Yours Truly (aka Roseanna M. White)
The Bound Heart by Dawn Crandall
A Noble Masquerade by Kristi Ann Hunter
The Captive Imposter by Dawn Crandall
Not by Sight by Kate Breslin
The Mistress of Tall Acre by Laura Frantz
The Curiosity Keeper by Sarah E. Ladd
The Golden Braid by Melanie Dickerson
A Worthy Heart by Susan Anne Mason 
You have the whole month of November, so get entering and sharing! 😉

 a Rafflecopter giveaway

Remember When . . . Harvest Traditions Clashed?

Remember When . . . Harvest Traditions Clashed?

It’s that time of year again–the time when most of America gets ready for Halloween, and those who oppose it often take the time to explain about why.

I’m not going there, LOL. Instead, I’m looking at how some of America’s Halloween traditions got here to begin with, and what the Puritans did this time of year instead. Because, you see, it’s the 4th Wednesday of the month, which means it’s my day to post on Colonial Quills. 😉 Hop on over to read about the anticipated ear of red corn that could usher in your future, and how jack-o-lanterns came from the clash between Christianity and Druidism.

https://www.roseannamwhite.com/2015/10/red-corn-for-kiss-and-jack-o-lanterns.html