I'm so excited to share this with you! Nina at ONE Audiobooks made a book trailer for the audiobook of Berserker , Lady Wynwood's Spies, Volume 2, and I absolutely love it. When she asked if I had any ideas, I confessed that I'm not really gifted that way, so I sent her a few images of Septimus, the gentleman on the cover, plus a couple of one-line summaries. She took that little bit and turned it into something wonderful. (Nina told me she relived poor Sep's agony all over again while making it. I know the feeling!) In Berserker , Sol and the team are reeling after Apothecary Jack's attack. One of their own is down, another is missing, and they have to find him before Jack does. The audiobook is narrated by the wonderful Shakira Shute, who brings the whole team to life. If you love listening to clean Regency suspense, I hope you'll give it a try! Get the Berserker audiobook: ONE Audiobooks Audible Amazon Spotify Barnes & Noble Feel free to sha...

At a Regency ball, the ballroom might be crowded with elegantly dressed ladies and gentlemen, hundreds of flickering candles, and the sounds of music and conversation. But what happened when a lady became overheated, felt faint, or simply needed a moment away from the festivities? She could retreat to the ladies' retiring room—a private space where women could rest, refresh themselves, and receive assistance with everything from loose curls to torn gowns. These rooms were more than convenient places for a heroine to escape an uncomfortable conversation. They were an important part of Regency social life. What Was a Regency Ladies' Retiring Room? At a Regency ball, the main rooms were often packed with people, blazing with candlelight, and filled with the sounds of music, laughter, and conversation. Women in elaborate gowns, tight stays (the corsets of the day), and layers of petticoats could quickly become overheated or short of breath. The ladies’ retiring room was alw...

“Is that you, Barron? I feared you would not return in time for our dinner party tomorrow night.” Tabitha turned toward the drawing room door as he entered, but she gasped at the sight of him. Lena was also shocked at the haggard look upon his face. He walked gingerly, as if his bones would shatter into a thousand pieces. “Barron!” Tabitha rose and went to him. “What has happened? Are you well?” He looked up at his sister, but it was as if he could not quite see her. He patted her hand, and although he did not smile, his gaze upon her was gentle and kind. “I am well, Tab. You mustn’t worry about me.” “Something has happened to upset you,” Tabitha insisted. “While in town, I received some bad news, but nothing that need concern you.” Tabitha pressed her lips together and gave him the look that said that it was up to her to determine what should concern her and what should not, but Mr. Vipond patted her hand once more and then leaned over to kiss her cheek. “I’m off to bed, Tab. ...

Lena had never met a Mr. Thornwell. And none of their acquaintance should know the Neybridges were in Wittenden. Perhaps this was an agent going by another name, sent with a message for Mr. Neybridge. But if so, why hadn’t he gone by one of a dozen secret keywords given to Lena and Mr. Neybridge so that they would recognize any Ramparts agents sent with messages for them? Melinda looked confused and glanced at Lena with raised eyebrows. To Lady Faine, she said, “I am afraid I am not acquainted with him.” “Perhaps he is known to Mr. Neybridge,” Lena said. “We should greet him, if you would not mind, my lady.” Melinda turned to Lena with eyebrows raised. “Oh yes,” she said in a flat voice, “I so enjoy meeting complete strangers in the absence of my father.” Lena turned to her with a too-wide smile and an aggressive twitch of her eyebrow. “If he is indeed an acquaintance of Mr. Neybridge, would it not be better to see his face so that we may tell your father all about him later?” ...

Michael slipped unnoticed into the antechamber and retrieved his own cloak, hat, and gloves. He had ridden in a hackney to the party, and so he walked to the corner and hailed another one, giving the name of a street a few minutes away, but on the edge of a less affluent part of town. The brothel was discreet, without a sign. Once inside the unmarked door, the entry hall had a closed set of double doors to the right, guarded by two very tall and broad men in livery, and a servant’s door directly ahead in the shadow of a set of stairs leading to the next floor. Michael didn’t acknowledge the two door guardians and instead headed up the stairs. The narrow hallway was dimly but elegantly lit by brass wall sconces, set into the striped wallpaper. Each door had a numbered brass plate, and Michael entered number six. He thought at first that the room was empty, but then he felt the hard, cold barrel of a pistol against the back of his head, and he froze. He raised his empty hands and ask...

I was writing the below dinner scene in Lady Wynwood’s Spies, Volume 4: Betrayer , and since I wanted to be authentic, I went looking in some antique cookbooks that had been published around that time period. In the cookbook, The Experienced English Housekeeper by Elizabeth Raffald , I found an interesting recipe, Hare Soup. (If you click the link, you can download a pdf copy of the scanned antique book.) The book was reprinted many times over the Georgian and Regency eras (the edition I was looking at was published in 1808, which is 3 years before the events in Lady Wynwood’s Spies ), so this soup would have been served at Laura’s dining table. Laura’s heart ached for Phoebe, and she had prayed over her niece. But Phoebe hadn’t appeared calmed by the prayer. She declined dinner and retreated to her room down the hallway, and so now Laura was sitting to a solitary meal. After Aya had set a bowl of hare soup in front of her, she asked the question Laura had been expecting. “What wi...

Mr. Norton is a gentleman spy for the Crown, but he broke every rule in his agency to save one woman's life. Now his superior officer has come to collect. Norton was about to settle down to a delicious dinner prepared by his club’s cook and a bottle or two of wine when a man seemed to appear out of thin air. “Norton,” the harsh voice said. The tall, spare man addressed him familiarly, but there was no warmth or cordiality in his grating tones. Norton liked to play the reckless fool, for it caused men to underestimate him. In actuality, while his actions were usually very daring, most of the time he had already looked at the situation and conjured up a dozen different ways that everything could go wrong, and considered what he might do in response if any of those occurred. So he had accustomed himself to a certain level of preparedness no matter where he found himself, and he did not like being surprised. But this man, being here and approaching Norton, was not only a surprise,...