I’m so excited this month (June) to see the launch of the last volume of “The Muses of Mayfair” trilogy–To Kiss a Count! It’s been quite a whirlwind trip with the Chase sisters and their gorgeous heroes, and I’m happy to see them all settled with their HEAs–though I’ll also miss them a lot. I had a lot of fun in their Regency world, and maybe one day I’ll be able to re-visit them and see how they’re faring. To celebrate today, I have a prize for one lucky commenter– a signed copy of To Kiss a Count, plus a copy of Maggie Lane’s A City of Palaces: Bath Through the Eyes of Fanny Burney (I found two copies of this on my shelf when I cleaned out my books this winter!).

To Kiss a Count is the story of Thalia Chase, the third of the Muses, and what happens when she’s reunited with the dark, dimpled, charming–and mysterious–Marco, Count di Fabrizzi. Thalia is the most beautiful of the sisters (the heroine on the cover actually looks very much as I pictured her while writing the book! Marco–not so much. My Marco was Rodrigo Santoro!). She’s also the most musical and artistically talented. But being the youngest, her older sisters tended to protect and cossett her, keeping her away from their adventures when all she wanted was to help them and do her part as Chase Muse. Clio finally realized this at the end of To Deceive a Duke and utilized Thalia’s talent as an actress to catch a villain (almost). When Thalia met Marco in that story, she certainly got more adventure than she bargained for! And she also fell in love with him. But they had to part, and she returned to England to try and mend her heart. But fate isn’t done with Thalia and Marco just yet.

Thalia journeys to Bath with her eldest sister Calliope (from To Catch a Rogue). Cal is recovering from the difficult birth of her daughter Psyche and goes to Bath to rest and take the waters. Thalia wants to help her with the baby, as well as find some fun distractions from her memories of the excitement of Sicily. Then Marco appears in the Pump Room–with the villainess Lady Riverton on his arm! (Lady Riverton also appeared in To Deceive a Duke…) Thalia knows things are not what they seem–and she won’t rest until she finds out what’s going on. She and Marco have to unite to save the ancient silver hoard while they try not to fall even more in love. But of course that is impossible!

I loved writing this story, especially since it’s set in the gorgeous city of Bath. By the time of this story, Bath was a bit past its prime, but it seemed like the perfect place for these scholars of antiquities, with its rich Roman and medieval history. (It also has some secret spots in the hills and caves just right for hiding contraband–and having secret trysts!). The museum of antiquities Thalia and Marco visit is my own invention (though the objects they look at are based on some found in the Roman Baths museum), but I used many real sites as well–the Pump Room, the Assembly Rooms, the Theatre Royal, Sydney Gardens, and Mollands pastry shop. One of the most fun research books I came across was Walks Through Bath by Pierce Egan, published in 1819, which gave me some fun tidbits to use in the story. For instance:

“Upon gala-nights (in Sydney Gardens) the music, singing, cascades, transparencies, fire-works, and superb illuminations, render these gardens very similar to Vauxhall. The Orchestra is close to the back of the Tavern, neatly arranged and elevated, with a large open space before it well-gravelled…The walks are all well rolled and gravelled; and seats and places for refreshment are to be met with in various places of the gardens. There are also several swings, adapted for the ladies, and others for gentlemen.”

There are also great descriptions of the Labyrinth (which Thalia and Marco walk through), which “might puzzle any cunning person if left to himself and without a clue, for six hours.”

(At the end of this post I’ll list a few sources I enjoyed for Bath! I’m working on an article about the history of the city, and one about the history of the Italian independence movement which Marco is a part of, for my own website. Thanks to the Deadline From Hell, finally nearing its end, I’m behind on that. But be sure and visit anyway for a chance to win the whole trilogy and a gorgeous Muse pendant from Tartx! Only a few days left on this contest…)

And that concludes my Springtime of Muses! What are some of your favorite Regency settings (Bath, London, country estates, Waterloo)? Have you visited Bath–what’s your favorite site there? And which Muse would you want to be yourself?

Some Bath sources (and one Italian!):

George Holmes, ed. The Oxford Illustrated History of Italy
Joyce Reynolds & Terence Volk, The History of Sulis Minerva at Bath
Maggie Lane, A City of Palaces and A Charming Place: Bath in the Life and Novels of Jane Austen
Walter Ison, The Georgian Buildings of Bath
RS Neale, Bath 1680-1850, A Social History
William Lowndes, The Theatre Royal at Bath
Guidebooks for the Museum of Costume and Assembly Rooms, Number One Royal Crescent, and the Pump Room

Deadline! Deadline! My brain hurts, can’t think. So let’s just look at some pretty dresses. That always makes me feel better. (These are just some random images from my “Fashion” folder. What time periods do you think they are? What are you own favorite historical periods for fashions? If you could have one of these, which would it be?)

And next week I’ll have more to say as I launch the last of my “Muses” trilogy, To Kiss a Count, and give away a copy! And there’s still a few days left to enter my website contest–the trilogy plus a gorgeous Muse pendant from Tartx…

So, I’ve been a bit crazed the last few days with a Looming Deadline (3 weeks away, ack!) plus a weekend full of holidays and parties (Mother’s Day, graduations, etc) and I had no idea what to write about today. So I did a search to find out what sorts of fun things happened on this day in history. I discovered that Italian ballerina Fanny Cerrito was born on this day in 1817 (she was a prima ballerina at La Scala and one of the pioneers of dancing en pointe. She also lived a very long life, until 1909, and was able to see the Ballet Russes perform). I also found a factoid that said the waltz was introduced in England on this day in 1812. I could find no confirmation of this, which seems a bit suspect. How could they know what day that happened?? And it seems like it would have been a bit earlier, though I’m not sure. Still, it’s fun.

I’ve been thinking about dancing a lot lately. I started a new part-time job, teaching a ballet class for 5-year-olds on Saturdays. Right now I’m helping them get ready for their recital in June (it’s an “Alice in Wonderland” theme, and this class is going to play the pack of cards in little white tutus printed with card faces. SO Cute!), but then I’ll teach a smaller class for the summer, for students who are “more serious” and don’t want to lose a couple months of lessons. So far so good. The first day I thought those 5-year-olds were going to kick my butt–I have never seen so much energy in one room before, all bundled up in adorable black leotards, pink slippers, and hairbows. They’re extremely enthusiastic in their plie-ing and jete-ing and can do a mean fifth position. But we’ve come to an understanding now, and I’m having lots of fun with my tiny Pavlovas. We may have to have a Regency “waltzing party”!

And I pulled a few books off the shelf to try and find more about the history of the waltz. (Gerald Jonas, Dancing; Richard Stephenson, The Complete Book of Ballroom Dancing; and Boyd Hilton, A Mad Bad and Dangerous People: England 1783-1846 were very helpful). It seems Montaigne wrote in 1580 of a dance he saw in Augsburg where the dancers held each other so closely their faces touched, and in the same period a man named Kunz Haas wrote “Now they are dancing the godless Weller or Spinner, whatever they call it”–seemingly a vigorous peasant dance.

By the late 17th century, ladies at the royal Court in Vienna were spun around the room to the tune of a 2-beat measure, which grew into the 3/4 time of the so-called Nach Tanz (“after dance”) and moved with a gliding step. Meanwhile the peasants enjoyed dancing something called a Walzer, which came to notice around 1750. Another country dance, the Landler (which can be seen in The Sound of Music!) spread from the countryside of Austria and Bavaria and into the towns and cities. The hopping motion of the Landler developed into a graceful sliding step, with a gliding rotation replacing the stamping rotation of the folk dance. It was said that while the nobility at Court still mostly danced their staid minuets, many of them were sneaking off to dance at their servants’ parties! (18th century Dirty Dancing??)

In the 1770s, a visitor to Vienna named Don Curzio wrote, “The people were dancing mad! The ladies of Vienna are particularly celebrated for their grace and movements of waltzing of which they never tire.” Deeply shocking when first introduced (the couples faced each other! And touched more than just a hand!), the waltz was all the fashion in Vienna by the 1780s and spread across Europe. In England, it was still considered “riotous and indecent” in 1825! (It’s a good thing they never went to a tango party!). Young ladies did not waltz without express permission. The scandalous Caro Lamb was especially fond of having “waltzing parties” in her drawing room, which should tell us something. But the waltz is now the precursor to many of the ballroom dances we know today (like quickstep, foxtrot, etc). Of course, the waltz of the early 19th century looked quite different from what we see on Dancing With the Stars (as you can see from the YouTube video below, which I so much enjoyed watching!)

What are your favorite dances (or dancers)?? Any good dance recital stories? (It seems when I was about 3 and in my very first performance, I brought the ballet to a screeching halt by sitting down onstage in my tutu to examine some confetti. I have no memory of this and deny it). What are you up to this Tuesday?

So today the weather finally dipped below 100 degrees here! In fact–it is actually in the 80s, and raining! I can go outside again! Hooray! It also appears my reading and post-RWA writing slumps are done (for now, anyway). I’ve passed the halfway mark on the WIP and am also fiddling around with the 1920s project, and have read not one but TWO wonderful books: the historical mystery The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie (a terrific early 1950s British setting and a smart-mouthed “detective” combined with seriously witty writing) and the Restoration romance Libertine’s Kiss by Judith James. (When I finished it, I immediately ran to the email and lured Judith James to the blog–she’ll be here next Tuesday, the 31st, to tell you all more about this fabulous, fabulous book).

And until I got a box of author copies yesterday I forgot I have a September release! Improper Ladies is another re-issue of two of my Signet Regencies, The Golden Feather (a Bookseller’s Best Award winner) and The Rules of Love (a RITA nominee!). Isn’t the cover girl’s hair gorgeous?? (I’m giving away a copy over at my own blog–tell me about your favorite Regency story for a chance to win…)

I also read that on this day in 1847, Charlotte Bronte finished writing Jane Eyre. Like many history junkies, this is one of my all-time favorite books ever, and one I never tire of re-reading. I vividly remember my first encounter with Jane. I was about 9 or 10, and had been long hooked on stuff like The Secret Garden, Anne of Green Gables, and the Betsy-Tacy books, so was always looking for stories with similar settings. (I had also just read my very first Austen, Emma, and was ripe for more 19th century literature). I found a battered paperback copy of Jane Eyre in a box at a garage sale, thought “Yes, I’ve heard of this!” and dragged it home to start reading. I stayed up all night (yes, with a flashlight, hiding under the bed) reading, and was shocked (shocked!!) by Bertha in the attic. I was totally addicted.

My mother then aided and abetted this obsession by finding a VHS tape of the Timothy Dalton Jane Eyre series, which I watched over and over, and I used my allowance to buy as many Victorian novels as I could find at the bookstore. (I tried Wuthering Heights next, but was still too young for it–I didn’t come to appreciate it until much later. But I did like Bleak House and Mill on the Floss, strangely).

There are many, many (many, many, many) versions of Jane Eyre to be found out there. In movies, there’s a silent version from 1915 called The Castle of Thornfield and a 1926 German film called Orphan of Lowood (I haven’t seen it, but have these wonderful visions of JE as Cabinet of Dr. Caligari), a 1963 Mexican feature called El Secreto and a 1972 Indian movie Shanti Nilyam. Here are a few a little closer to home:

1983–Timothy Dalton as Rochester and Zelah Clarke as Jane (still my favorite version, since I saw it first! I love how so much of the dialogue from the book is in place and how true it is to the spirit of the story…)

1997–Ciaran Hinds (Captain Wentworth!) and Samantha Morton (I like this one, but not as much as I thought I would when I first starting watching it)

1996–A Franco Zeffirelli-directed version starring William Hurt and French icon Charlotte Gainsbourg (it’s been so long since I’ve seen this I remember very little about it)

1944–Orson Welles and Joan Fontaine (and a very young Elizabeth Taylor)

2006–Toby Stephens as “Mr. Rochester as hottie” and Ruth Wilson

And one coming soon in 2011, starring Mia Wasikowska (from Alice in Wonderland) as Jane

Plus there are sequels, continuations, inspired-by books, Jane as paranormal hero, muscials, operas, etc etc….

When did you first read Jane Eyre? What’s your favorite of the adaptations? And what good books have you read lately???

First of all–new covers!!! Regency Christmas Proposals–isn’t it pretty? Doesn’t it look wonderfully Christmas-y? (even though Christmas seems years away…). I’m very excited about my story Snowbound and Seduced (a Diamonds of Welbourne Manor spin-off! We met Mary Derrington and her girlhood sweetheart Dominic, Viscount Amesby, in Charlotte and the Wicked Lord. Now they have to reunite to chase after her sister and his cousin as they attempt to elope in the midst of bad weather and right at Christmas), and the thought that someday it will be cool outside again (after weeks of 100+ weather here). It’s out in November, along with my new “Undone” story, To Court, Capture, and Conquer (I also just found out I’ll be doing an “Undone” story with a 1920s story–stay tuned!). November will be fun!

Until then, my yard is withering from lack of rain, my cats won’t come out from the cool shade under the bed, and I watch way too much summer TV. True Blood, Mad Men, Vampire Diaries re-runs, History Detectives, Pawn Stars, Project Runway, On the Road With Austin and Santino…you see what a useless summer I’m having. But I also take breaks from being a TV lump on the couch to work on my WIP (working title–Elizabethan Theater Story) and doing some research. One great book on the period is Charles Nicholl’s The Reckoning: The Murder of Christopher Marlowe, and I was struck by one little piece of info I found there:

“Peter Shakerley was one of those self-publicizing Elizabethan oddballs who found their way into the popular imagination. There were others: an absurdly dressy Italian called Monarcho, the loquacious barber Tom Tooley, old Mother Livers of Stoke Newington, and so on. They were a bit crazy, and people laughed at them and talked about them, and their names remain like curious fossils in the pamphlets and ballads of the day”

Maybe it’s my summer TV time, but it occurred to me–these were Elizabethan reality stars! Crazy, laughable, well-known for doing–well, nothing really, except being odd and good at publicizing their oddness. They’re like the Kardashians of the 16th century. Today they would appear on Go Fug Yourself (especially that Monarcho guy–I’d love to see his outfits) and on the cover of US Weekly with Bachelors and Bristol Palin. If only there was a Big Brother where groups of them would be locked up in Hampton Court, or maybe a Victorian Project Runway where Charles Frederick Worth could be the Tim Gunn figure (only meaner). A Regency Work of Art, only with whiny, back-stabbing poets! A Georgian Top Chef where they have to prepare a 30-course dinner at the Brighton Pavilion–in only two hours!

That would be TV gold, and I’ve spent too much time this morning dreaming up new schemes. Who Wants to Marry Henry VIII? Lady Caro Lamb is the New Bachelorette–Be Careful, She’ll Stab You With That Rose If You Reject Her?

So you tell me! What historical reality shows would you like to see???