And the winner of The Importance of Being Wicked is Ashley deGroot. I’m emailing you Ashley – if you don’t hear from me contact me through my website.

While I’m on the subject of winners, LilMissMolly never claimed her prize of a copy of The Second Seduction of a Lady. Molly – please get in touch with me.

Today I’ve brought the hero and heroine of The Importance of Being Wicked to The Ballroom. I’m a little nervous because last week Lady B got her knickers in a twist (though she does not, of course wear knickers; that would be anachronistic) about Shana Galen’s courtesan heroines. Since this was followed by an incident involving Monty, the second footman, and a masked lady of easy virtue, she announced that The Ballroom was becoming Undesirably Raffish and we all have to Behave Ourselves. Being Lady B, she failed to provide explicit details about how we are supposed to reform. I find it hard to believe she has become an advocate of unspiked ratafia and rational conversation, but you never know with her.

Lady B: Miss Neville! I’ve heard things about your guests today and I am Not Amused.

Miranda: Really? You couldn’t possibly object to the Duke of Castleton. He never misbehaves, plus he’s a duke and very good looking. Nice legs.

Lady B: Yes, yes. Castleton is all very well. But Caro Townsend? Hardly heroine material. She consorts with artists, spends too much money, and gives wild parties.

Miranda: And your problem is?

Lady B: I don’t have to explain myself, neither do I have to receive her.

Miranda: As it happens, you already have. Or maybe you will. I get confused about the time-space thingy. Castleton and Caro attend a ball in your house in the course of the book.

Lady B: Harrumph. Since you’ve already written it, there’s not much I can do. But I can and will refuse to invite them again.

Miranda: You weren’t always so stuffy, Lady B. I’m in a position to know. The Importance of Being Wicked is set in 1800, when you were the newest and most dashing hostess on the London scene.

Lady B: I did cause quite a stir.

Disporting at a Masquerade

Miranda: There’s a scene in the book when a certain lady, who may or may not have been wearing peacock colored gloves, disports herself at a public masquerade.

Lady B: (aside) Ah, memories. (to Miranda) It wasn’t I and you had better not have said so.

Miranda: I name no names. But. It isn’t too late to insert the identity of the lady.

Lady B: The book has already been printed.

Miranda: I have one word. Digital. It’s easy to change things these days. [hums and adjusts her gloves] If Castleton and Caro are allowed into the ballroom now, I shall be too busy to attend to the matter.

Lady B: Since you ask, I suppose I can receive Mrs. Townsend. As a favor to you.

Miranda: (aside) I have a feeling I will end up paying for this. (to Lady B.) You are ever the gracious hostess. Allow me to present the Duke of Castleton and Mrs. Caroline Townsend.

Lady B: The lady appears to have forgotten her bodice.

Caro: It’s the latest fashion from Paris and hardly needs any fabric. Since I’m always trying to economize, I had an entirely new wardrobe made up. Can you imagine the savings?

Castleton groans.

Lady B, distinctly thawing. You make a very good point. I shall mention the idea to Lord B. next time he wishes to retrench. Do you have any other advice?

Caro: Charades always make a party go. My guests enjoy costumes. It’s a great excuse to dress as members of the opposite sex.

Lady B: For ladies to display their legs and gentlemen to cover them is against nature.

Caro: My cat always attends my parties, just as Albert adds a certain something to your balls

Lady B: I wouldn’t dream of entertaining without Albert, but he Does Not Like Cats.

<squawk squawk squawk>

Caro: Don’t worry. Tish always stays at home in case someone needs bail. It’s not uncommon for at least one person to be taken up by the Watch after one of my dinners.

Lady B: I’ve always heard that prisons are quite uncomfortable.

Caro: Most important of all, the first thing you do when you arrive at a ball is find an empty room or large cupboard in case you wish to be private.

Castleton: Caro, I think it’s time to let Lady B. see to her other guests.

Caro: Don’t be stuffy Thomas. But since you ask so nicely, I discovered a dark antechamber with a very comfortable sofa.

What do you think makes a party go? With holiday season coming up, Lady B (and the twenty-first-century authoresses) could use your tips. One commenter will win a signed copy of The Importance of Being Wicked.

One more thing, my cat Ernie has made a video about how he inspired Caro’s pet.

The winners of Cara Elliott’s latest Lord of Midnight novel, Too Dangerous to Desire, are….

Jennifer McQuiston and pjpuppymom!  Congrats, you two!

Thanks so much to Cara and to everyone who joined us in the Ballroom on Monday.  Although Lady B may have to check those locks now that Cam’s been at them….

It’s our first Monday ball after Lady B’s attempt at a Thanksgiving dinner.  The game birds instead of turkey were  a– well, let’s just say that it was an interesting touch.  And I’m pretty sure that most of the guests have recovered from that slight bout of food poisoning.

I’m in a bit of a quandary as I peer through the Ballroom doors.  You see, Lady B specifically has a “no repeat guests” rule. As she somewhat less tactfully put it, after having us authoresses cluttering up her ballroom, noon and night, she needs a bit of variety to enliven the tedium.  But that’s just her way of showing affection, right?

But I digress.  Lady B asked me (and by “ask”, I mean “command”) to bring that intriguing Mrs. Andrea Penrose, author of those charming mystery stories, to attend her in the Ballroom.  And if Mrs. Penrose might bring with her some of those chocolate recipes she mentions in her books….  Not that Lady B holds with such newfangled things as eating chocolate (everyone knows chocolate is for drinking, not for eating!), but it doesn’t do to be entirely behind the times.  Especially when the times are so tasty.

There’s a hitch, of course.  What Lady B doesn’t know is that Andrea Penrose, writer of Regency-set mysteries, is also Cara Elliott, author of the Lords of Midnight series.  She visited here last year, in her Miss Elliott guise– and Lady B is very fond of bragging that she never forgets a face.

I’ve just dragged Cara behind a potted palm in a last ditch attempt to get her to don the frizzy red wig and dark lorgnette I’ve brought for her in the hopes of obscuring her identity when the inevitable happens: Lady B spots us.

Lady B (peering through her lorgnette): Miss Elliott! I see you there behind the potted palms! What are you doing here again?  Don’t try to slither past me without making your curtsy. Shabby manners are NOT tolerated here in my Ballroom, especially from one of Miss Willig’s guests. She does tend to invite the oddest creatures.

Cara: It wasn’t quite a slither, it was, um, more of a ladylike tip-toeing through the tulips.

Lady B (eyes narrowing): Tulips? I hate tulips. The gardener promised to decorate the hallway with pink carnations.

Cara: Poetic license, milady. I assure you the pots are overflowing with pink.

Lady B: Hmmph! As opposed to the purple of your prose.

Cara: (shooting an appealing look at Lauren and mumbling sotto voce) I didn’t think my latest book was THAT bad.

Lauren (whispering back): No, no the book was fine. She’s just a bit miffed because– um, she thought you were going to be your other self.  And you– I mean, Andrea Penrose, were asked to bring a gentleman with you to balance the numbers for dancing. I had thought maybe Cam—)

Lady B: Don’t mumble, Miss Willig! It’s rude. (Another glare) Like Miss Elliott here, who apparently can’t read as well as can’t write.

Cara (repressing a pained wince): I assure you, Lady B, I wouldn’t dream of ignoring the request spelled out on your lovely invitation. That’s why I was delaying my greeting. My gentleman friend is definitely coming. He will be here at any moment.

<squawk> Impossible! We just had the doors locked, ha, ha, ha! <squawk>

Lady B: Albert is correct. Here at the Ballroom, we don’t permit access after a certain hour. Your friend is late, and thus he will definitely not be making an appearance.

Cara: (shuffling uncomfortably from foot to foot) Um, well the thing is, a lock will not be . . . an impediment. Cameron Fanning is very clever with his hands.

Lauren: Exceedingly clever.

Lady B: Indeed?

<squawk> Hands are vastly overrated. <squawk>

Lady B: Do be quiet, Albert. (To Miss Elliott) Explain yourself more fully, gel.

Cara: Before I do so, I feel compelled to add just a wee bit of backstory— that is, if Your Ladyship will permit me. (A regal nod indicates that she may proceed) First of all, it must be said that Cameron Fanning is the hero of my latest book and as such, he is—”

Lady B: I trust you are going to say handsome, otherwise there is no point in going on.

Cara: Oh, yes, he is handsome as SIN. (She and Lauren exchange titters)

Lady B: At last, you begin to sound interesting, Miss Elliott. (A fraction of a pause) Go on.

Cara: Cameron is—

Lauren (interrupting): A devil of a rogue. He’s a thief to boot.

Cara: Yes, yes, but he only steals from those who can afford it.

Lady B (eyes widening in alarm): Be advised that I have recently installed the latest German puzzle locks on all my doors.

Cara: I’m afraid they won’t have the slightest effect on Cam. He’s extremely skilled at maneuvering delicate little buttons and releasing complex locking mechanisms. I’ve never known him to fail in entering a private place he wished to penetrate, no matter how well-guarded.

Lady B (raising her brows) Are we talking about Ballrooms? Or some other more intimate space?

Lauren (trying to keep a straight face.) Perhaps you should decide for yourself. That appears to be Cameron strolling through the archway.

Lady B (following his progress with a gimlet gaze) Explain yourself, sir.

Cameron: In a moment. But first . . . (He raises her bejeweled hand to his lips and holds it there for a fraction longer than a gentleman should.) You have divine hands, Lady B. (A wink) And divine rings. By the color and clarity, I would say those are emeralds from the Spanish mines of South America, are they not?

Lady B: Never mind!

Cameron: You have nothing to worry about. Beautiful women need never fear of losing their costly jewelry to me. (A pause)  But I make no promises about purloining other infinitely more precious possessions.

Lady B: W-w-what could be more precious than emeralds and rubies, young man?

Cameron: (leaning close to whisper in her ear): Some might feel that a lady’s heart is her greatest treasure, and I confess, I agree. If I could find a true and loyal one, I just might consider becoming a reformed rogue.

Lady B: (letting out a breathy sigh) Perhaps we should retire to the side salon and discuss the matter of hearts over a bottle of my special port. (A sidelong look at Cara and Lauren) After I lock the door and throw away the key.

Cara: Umm . . .

Cameron: I believe Miss Elliott was about to warn you that she know all my secrets.

Lady B: Oh, I do like a man with secrets. (Stepping a tad closer) What are they?

Cameron (with an enigmatic smile): You will have to ask Miss Elliott the details. Suffice it to say, I’m not what I seem.

<squawk> Have a care, ladies. If you kiss him, he might turn into a frog, ha, ha, ha! <squawk>

Lauren: Noooo, definitely not a frog.

Cara (brows shooting up): Lauren! What will your husband say?

Lauren (with an airy wave): Research. He knows I’m very serious about my research.

Cara: But it’s MY book.

Lauren: Oops.

Lady B: Come along with me, Mr. Fanning! Let us leave these two ninnyhammers to their silliness. (To Albert) In my experience, a fine bottle of port always loosens a man’s tongue.

Cameron (with a casual flick of his long, lithe fingers, he mimes turning a key): Sorry, but my lips are locked.

Lady B (hooking her arm with his): We’ll see about that. I, too, have some tricks up my sleeve.

Cameron: Ahhh, well, I always enjoy going mano a mano with a clever lady. Let the latches and levers fall where they may . . .

Cara (watching them walk away): Perhaps I should have told Lady B about Sophie Lawrance. I’m pretty certain that she is the only one who holds the key to Cam’s heart. And seeing how long he’s waited for a second chance to win her heart, I don’t think he’ll risk mucking it up.

Lauren (looking thoughtful): Hmmm, an interesting observation . . .

Which begs the question: How do you feel about rakish rogues? Do bad boys who have grown older and wiser deserve a second chance? 

(Or even more interesting, is there an old flame in your life you’ve thought about, and wondered whether now it might work out differently. Does that intrigue you . . . or is the past best left in the past?)

Do dish! Two commentators will be chosen as random to receive a free copy of TOO DANGEROUS TO DESIRE. (U. S. addresses only, please.)

Congratulations Maria! (Comment 27)  You are the winner of Shana Galen’s When You Give a Duke a Diamond!

Thank you everyone who stopped by yesterday!

In our continuing quest to host our favorite authors here for our At-Home Month, I am so very pleased to welcome Miss Shana Galen to the Ballroom!  Miss Galen is the author of fast-paced, romantic adventures, and we shared many a glass of ratafia at this past year’s RWA conference in Anaheim.  It’s all a little blurry, but I know we had fun.  Although, I don’t think I realized that Miss Galen was so… excitable.  Or that she had so many… interesting friends.

Ladies and Gentlemen, Miss Shana Galen!

Shana make look wholesome…
but she can kick back the ratafia.

Miss Galen: I’m here! I’m really here. Dear reader, you have no idea how long I have waited to visit these hallowed halls. Look! There’s Gaelen Foley and Lauren Willig. Oh! It’s Tessa Dare and Sabrina Darby. And I see my good friends Katharine Ashe, Sarah Maclean, and Miranda Neville. Thank you, Miss Noble, for vouching for my reputation and gaining me entrance. I will not disappoint. When do I meet Lady B?

Miss Noble: Are you certain you are ready for an introduction?

Miss Galen: (taking a deep breath) As ready as I shall ever be. Are there any topics of conversation I should avoid?

Miss Noble: You might not want to mention the courtesans from your Jewels of the Ton series. I believe Lady B once had a bad experience with a courtesan.

Miss Galen: Oh, dear. That is no problem whatsoever. The Three Diamonds are off on their own adventures. Lady B is known as a formidable patroness. Even notorious courtesans like Juliette, Fallon, and Lily would not brave her displeasure by attending uninvited.

Miss Noble: Then follow me.

Miss Galen: There she is! It’s Lady Beaufetheringstone and Albert! And there…oh no!

Miss Noble: Lady Beaufetheringstone, may I present you authoress Shana Galen?

Miss Galen: (attempting a curtsey but stumbling because she is staring fearfully behind Lady B). I’m please to meet you Lady B. And now I must go.

Lady B.: Wait just a moment, gel. I have not even had a moment to take a look at you. (raising her quizzing glass). Come forward.

Miss Galen: Here I am then. Now I must be off!

Lady B.: Do not dare move. Miss Noble says you are an authoress. What sort of books do you write?

Miss Galen: Um…why don’t I run to the carriage and fetch one for you? Then you might see for yourself.

Lady B.: My gel, I simply asked what sort of books you write. I did not mean that I intended to actually read any of them. And why do you keep looking over my shoulder? What is behind—?

Miss Galen: No! Don’t turn around! I mean, I write fast-paced adventurous books. My heroes are spies and pirates and my heroines are spunky and brave.

Lady B.: Tell me more about these heroines. Are they reputable women?

Miss Galen: Ahh…in my latest series they are all titled.

Lady B.: Really? Miss Galen! Why are you shaking your head? With whom are you communicating?

Miss Noble: Oh, no.

Miss Galen: No one. I really must be off.

Lady B.: Who is that gel over there? Is that one of your heroines, Miss Galen?

Miss Galen: That lovely woman with the pale blond hair, blue eyes, wearing a gold gown? No, I have never seen her before.

Lady B.: (frowning) Then why is she waving at you?

Miss Galen: No idea.

Lady B.: Miss Noble, do fetch that young woman and introduce her to me.

Miss Noble: (returning) Lady B., may I present Juliette, the Duchess of Dalliance?

Lady B.: Duchess of Dalliance! What sort of title is that?

Juliette: You should ask Shana. She gave it to me.

Miss Galen: No, I didn’t. The Prince Regent named you and the other Diamonds.

Lady B.: There are more of you?

Juliette: Yes, there’s Fallon, the Marchioness of Mystery and Lily, the Countess of Charm.

Lady B.: I am loathe to say it, but our dear regent has, at times, show poor judgment in his affairs with members of the fairer sex. I do hope he has not tarnished your reputation, my dear.

Juliette: Oh, no! He quite made my reputation. You see, I’m one of The Three Diamonds.

Miss Galen: Why look at the time! We must be going, Juliette.

Lady B.: Who are these Diamonds you speak of?

Miss Galen: Nothing! No one!

Juliette: We’re courtesans, my lady.

Albert: <Squawk!> Courtesans in the ballroom! <Squawk!> My feathers are ruffled!

Lady B.: Oh, dear heavens! Where are my smelling salts? I feel quite faint.

Miss Noble: I think you had better make your escape now, Shana.

Miss Galen: Good idea! Let’s go, Juliette.

Juliette: But I was having fun.

Miss Galen: Let’s go. Kate, is there any way I can repair the damage I’ve done? What if I offered a small token of my appreciation? A copy of When You Give a Duke a Diamond? Signed, perhaps? I’ll give it to one person from the former colonies or Canada who comments.

Miss Noble: You must give them a topic to comment upon.

Juliette: How about your last big mistake? I can tell you mine was meeting the Duke of Pelham. The man is insufferable!

WHEN YOU GIVE A DUKE A DIAMOND BY SHANA GALEN

He had a perfectly orderly life…

William, the sixth Duke of Pelham, enjoys his punctual. securely structured life. Orderly and predictable—that’s the way he likes it. But he’s in the public eye, and the scandal sheets will make up anything to sell papers. When the gossips link him to Juliette, one of the most beautiful and celebrated courtesans in London, chaos doesn’t begin to describe what happens next…

Until She Came Along

Juliette is nicknamed the Duchess of Dalliance, and has the cream of the nobility at her beck and call. It’s seriously disruptive to have the duke who’s the biggest catch on the Marriage Mart scaring her other suitors away. Then she discovers William’s darkest secret and decides what he needs in his life is the kind of excitement only she can provide…

 More about Shana:

Shana Galen is the bestselling author of fast-paced adventurous Regency historicals, including the RT Reviewers’ Choice The Making of a Gentleman. Her books are published all over the world and have been featured in the Rhapsody and Doubleday Book Clubs. She taught English at the middle and high school level off and on for eleven years. Most of those years were spent working in Houston’s inner city. Now she writes full time. She’s happily married and has a daughter who is most definitely a romance heroine in the making. Shana loves to hear from readers: visit her website at www.shanagalen.com or see what she’s up to daily on Facebook and Twitter.

Well, my dear guests, it is the fourth Thursday in November, and once again my American authoresses have sent their regrets, as they will be celebrating Thanksgiving with those near and dear to them.

Albert:  <<Gobble!>>

Why, Albert.  I didn’t know you spoke turkey.

One does wonder how such a rustic meal could tempt the authoresses away from my ratafia and lobster patties.  Perhaps this year I will try my hand at preparing a traditional Thanksgiving dinner, so I can judge for myself.

Before they all went winging home,  I asked the authoresses to scribble down their own personal Thanksgiving favorites and advice.  If I can find my lorgnette, perhaps we can make a menu for Cook.

Ah, here is Miss Sarah Maclean’s note.

I confess, I’m the turkey-girl in our family…there is nothing I like more than roasting a giant bird. It makes me feel all Martha-Stewarty inside. Thanksgiving is a potluck, all-in affair with us, five loud Italians and a quiet Californian inlaw all in one kitchen, peeling and basting and mashing and roasting. It’s my favorite holiday of the year, without question.

A turkey… Where will I get a turkey today?  Pheasant and partridge are much easier to be had in our markets.

Albert:  <<Toucan!>>

Albert!  What a suggestion.  Of course we will not be sacrificing Monty’s pet.   I shall forgo the poultry entirely, to avoid the issue.

Now Miss Tessa Dare tells me cranberries are de rigueur.

For me, the one indispensable element of Thanksgiving dinner is homemade cranberry sauce.  It’s so easy to make, and so very good!  I make a big batch the night before Thanksgiving, and eat the leftovers for the rest of the week, spreading it like jam on bread.

I don’t think cranberries even grow in England!  Will red currants suffice, do you think?  Gooseberries, perhaps?

Thank heaven Miss Kate Noble speaks of slightly more familiar ingredients.

My family is all about the mashed potatoes.  They are about 75% butter and cream cheese, structurally held together by the potato’s starch, but they are DELICIOUS, and make appearances only at Thanksgiving, Christmas, and Easter.

Let’s see.  Potatoes, yes.  Butter, yes.  But what is this cream cheese?

It seems Miss Miranda Neville will sympathize with my Englishwoman’s plight.  She writes…

Thanksgiving still seems a touch exotic to me since I didn’t grow up with it. My first Thanksgiving I was living in New York City and gathered a group of friends who weren’t going to their own families. I’d never cooked a turkey before and thought it was like a big chicken. We ate dinner at 10pm. I love the potluck aspect of the meal, where everyone provides something. I enjoy experimenting with stuffings and I make a mean mince pie.

Now mince pie can be managed.  Miss Katharine Ashe writes of pie, as well.

For Thanksgiving, my mother makes The Most Delicious concord grape pie In The World. It does not taste like Welch’s jelly, but like heaven — tart and sweet and indescribably good. I’m hoping and praying that she will make it this year. And bribing her too.

That does sound delicious.  It seems there is a great deal of maternal influence on Thanksgiving menu planning.  Miss Lauren Willig provides more evidence:

Our family Thanksgiving tradition is French onion soup– in homage to my mother’s French roots.

Yet more from Miss Gaelen Foley:

Peeling the potatoes with my sisters for an enormous, endless supply of mashed potatoes always felt like a moment of getting in touch with our Irish roots and reminded us of our ancestors who emigrated to American in the late Victorian period. Plus my Mom makes awesome gravy.

And look at what Miss Sabrina Darby has to say!

We go to my mother-in-law’s and she (born in England, but grew up in So Cal) makes Yorkshire pudding the way her mother made it, which is flat and dense in the pan. This year, as I’m on a gluten free diet (so un-Regency!) am going to attempt to make a wheat-free version. I will very much miss the traditional version.

Yorkshire pudding.  Now that I know.  But what on earth can “gluten-free” mean?

Albert:  <<Polly wanna cracker!>>

Mystifying.  But I am sensing a theme here, and that is that each Thanksgiving dinner is unique to a family’s history and traditions.  But if I’m going to prepare a proper feast, I believe I need more examples.

Dear American guests, if you have a moment to spare during this day of footie-ball and turkey, perhaps you can share your favorite Thanksgiving dish?  For any who hail from different shores, perhaps you can share a family favorite dish from another holiday?

And lest I forget – all the authoresses have asked me to express how very, very thankful we are for all of you. 

Congratulations, Kathleen O’Donnell!

You’re the winner of Leigh LaValle’s The Misbehaving Marquess and The Runaway Countess!

Thanks to everyone who joined us on Monday!

The lovely Miss Leigh!

 

Leigh: Hullo, Lady B! Wonderful to see you. I am surprised you are hostessing a ball with Thursday fast approaching.

Lady B:  Thursday?  (aside) Miss Dare, what happens Thursday?

Leigh:   So much to do!  The turkey and pies and peas and yams and more pies…

Tessa:  Lady B, our guest is referring to Thanksgiving.  It’s this Thursday!

Lady B: Oh, yes.  That American holiday all my authoresses are so fond of.  This year, I thought of making an American feast myself.  But of course, the servants will do the cooking.

Leigh: How nice. I’m not sure where my kitchen staff ran off to…

Tessa: Neither do I! We Americans are used to doing all the shopping, preparations, and cooking ourselves.  Not to mention the cleaning up. It can be so stressful.   That’s why I invited Miss LaValle today.  She’s not only a talented authoress, but a yoga instructor!

Lady B:  A what?

Leigh:  I thought I could share some relaxation techniques to help the rest of us servant-less mortals through the holidays.

Lady B: I do find ratafia to be relaxing myself.

Tessa nods enthusiastically.

Leigh: Well, yes, but there are other more healthful ways—

Lady B: Such as peering at a handsome pair of legs?  I find that relaxing AND stimulating.

Leigh: There are many exercises that can be both relaxing and, er, stimulating. The goal is to be happily peaceful, after all. Not asleep.

Lady B: I certainly do not wish my guests to fall asleep in my ballroom.

Leigh: Of course not. At least, not until after the turkey is served.

Lady B: So, what shall we do? I have seen those strange poses in naughty books…

Leigh: Nothing like that, at least not tonight.

Tessa: Too bad!

Miss LaValle demonstrates a yoga pose, to Lady B’s amazement.

Leigh, looking a bit harried: The best relaxation technique is one that is simple, available at all moments, and widely used by heroines everywhere. Breathing! Or, taking deep breaths, to be more precise. You see, the more oxygen we draw into our bloodstream, the less our heart has to work. Shall we try it?

Lady B:  Yes!  And I think all our guests should try along at home.

Leigh:  To begin, take a deep inhale of at least four counts. And when I say inhale, I do not mean simply pressing your bosom again your bodice to show off your pale orbs to their best advantage.

Tessa: But it works so well.

Leigh: Distracts the hero every time, I agree. But for tonight, let’s draw our breath all the way down into our belly, which will be soft and full.

Lady B: Not the easiest in a corset.

Leigh: And corsets are so relaxing? I thought not. We will breathe in for four counts, letting our belly open. Then breathe out for six count, particularly feeling our shoulders relax.

Lady B, taking a deep breath and exhaling: It is rather like sighing.

Leigh: Something else our heroines do so well. Taking five such breaths, with the exhale longer than the inhale, will help drown any unpleasantness.  The trick with the breath is trying not to hurry. It’s not a race at all. The more we can focus our mind on what we are doing, the more effective the exercise.

Lady B: I do not exercise, as a rule. That is something for horses. But I do feel better. What else do you have to show us, Miss LaValle?

Leigh: If you want to increase your breath capacity, you can raise your hands overhead as you inhale and lower them as you exhale.

Tessa, grumbling: Impossible in these sleeves, as gorgeous as they are.

Leigh: Yes, they are gorgeous, if a bit poufy. When one is feeling rather poufy themselves, basic side bends and gentle twists are a wonderful way to relieve pressure in the stomach. Another motion, one most effective at restoring the nervous system, is a forward bend. I would recommend performing it in a seated position, taking care to let the head relax toward the heart as you reach for your toes.

Lady B: My toes! I cannot remember the last time I touched my toes. One has servants for these things.

Leigh: That is too bad. Four breaths in a comfortable seated forward bend (perhaps with knees bent) can change everything.

Lady B: Everything?

Leigh: Everything. It is very calming. Conversely, a back bend is enervating and brings energy to our nervous system. It can be performed after a seated forward bend by placing your hands on the floor behind you and lifting your bosom to the ceiling.

Lady B: I always lift my bosom to the ceiling.

Leigh glances at Lady B’s bosom and quickly away:  Lastly, no matter the time of the year, remembering what we have to be grateful for is always a wonderful way to unwind. For me, I am grateful you have invited me to your illustrious ballroom. Thank you for having me!

Tessa:  Thank you so much for joining us, Leigh!  I have a whole week with the darelings home from school, and I’m going to need some relaxation techniques.

Do you know who else could use some relaxation techniques?  Cat Raybourne, the heroine of Leigh’s fabulous novella The Misbehaving Marquess!  Her wandering husband has just returned–and he wants more than cup of tea.  The Misbehaving Marquessis available digitally for just $0.99.

Having awaited the return of her husband for half a decade, Catherine Raybourne, the Marchioness of Foster, has no intention of reconciling with her misbehaving marquess. But when he insists he needs an heir-immediately-she must confront her own lingering desires. Can she protect her heart while attempting to win his once again?

More about Leigh:  Leigh LaValle lives in the Pacific Northwest with her family. When she is not writing, mommying or reading, she is rarely seen cleaning. More often she is found hiking or, when she is really lucky, in the white powder of the ski slopes. She is also a devoted yoga practitioner and instructor.  Find her online at www.LeighLaValle.com.

When the hustle and bustle of the holiday season gets to you, what do you do to unwind?  Yoga? A hot bath? Ratafia?

Leave a comment, and you could win digital copies of Leigh’s The Misbehaving Marquess and The Runaway Countess!

Happy weekend, everyone! Well, if you find yourself with some time to relax, fix a cuppa your favorite brew and enjoy this virtual stroll through a Cotswold Village. If it does not induce wild cravings to go read Regency novels and/or Jane Austen, then nothing will. It looks like the setting for my next book, and when I came across it, I knew you’d enjoy it as much as I did, so I just had to share.

This is a lovely clip from a longer DVD by Vita Digital Productions. (They have many more that they make freely available on their website, follow link. In fact, I think I’ll be taking a stroll thru an Italian village next..!) ~ Enjoy!   (PS–Don’t go away, more below…)

Also, before you go, let’s extend our recent November 11 Veteran’s Day salute to our stalwart British allies, who have been fighting alongside our guys and girls in the military throughout the current wars. Thank you to all the veterans and military families from all the allied countries for their sacrifice. May the upcoming holiday season be a time of peace for us all.

This video is from last year’s Festival of Remembrance held at Royal Albert Hall, an event to honor British veterans, sponsored annually by the Royal British Legion (which is England’s foremost charity for military veterans and familes.) For those unfamiliar with the song, it’s a classic WWI-era, British patriotic hymn called “I Vow To Thee, My Country.” Gives me chills every time…

So, what is everybody up to this weekend? I’m celebrating my birthday, (Nov. 16). Don’t bother asking how old. The answer remains the same: 29. That’s my story and I’m sticking with it–indefinitely, haha. Fortunately, you already know that I write fiction…