Confound it all! One of the frustrations of writing historical fiction is discovering your character could not do/hear/see/say something because it had not been invented yet! Such is my plight as I just discovered my heroine could not say ‘Confound it!’ as the saying did not exist for nearly another 40 years! A few other things she could not say (and the year in which she could have said them) include: botheration – c. 1835 … Continue reading →
When in doubt and you live with teenagers, blame it on the kids! I remember being a ten year old hunting and pecking at an old Smith-Corona manual typewriter, banging out my first short story anthology. I still have those pages, in a box on the shelves beside me, a reminder of how far I’ve come. As creative as I was back then—I did write science fiction after all—I would have never envisioned my desk … Continue reading →
What might Mr. Bennet be thinking about losing two daughters at once? Thomas Bennet was not by his nature a reflective man. Reflection tended to bring on discomfort and discontent, neither of which he favored. But his house—and his life—were in disarray on the cusp of his daughters’ weddings and a little reflection could hardly make his discomfiture worse. He picked his way around the trunks and boxes piled in the hall way. It was … Continue reading →
Who knew what went on in Mr. Collins’ mind before his cousins married? Breakfast should have been a quiet affair, but it seemed few meals were at Lucas Lodge. Mr. Collins squeezed his temples. So much banal chatter soured his stomach and ruined his appetite. Mrs. Collins’s brothers brought reports on new arrivals at Netherfield Park while her younger sister was brimming over with talk of lace and dresses. Collins could not bring himself to … Continue reading →
What would the Bennet sisters have to say to each other before their lives change forever? The evening turned cold quickly and they all retreated upstairs somewhat earlier than usual. Elizabeth and Jane withdrew to Jane’s room. They sat together on the bed heaped high with pillows. Elizabeth brushed Jane’s hair in the crackling firelight. Her hair was so beautiful, shining like molten gold under the brush, and always so well-behaved, submitting the plait and … Continue reading →
