All About the Writing

BFFs, Regency Style

One of the fun parts of writing stories set in the Regency era is imagining how characters then would handle things we see or do every day.

For example, when women nowadays get together and discuss smexy times, they've experienced it firsthand.

Naturally I wondered how this conversation might go with a couple of Regency misses, both with little to no knowledge of the topic.

Here's an excerpt from Lord Rakehell's Love, where Georgiana tries to explain to her BFF Felicia the feelings her fiancé Simon elicits.

~~~~~

"The most distressing part—" No, she could not confess such thoughts, even to her dearest friend.

"What is the most distressing part?"

Georgiana shook her head, biting her lip to keep the words from escaping.

"I insist. If you do not tell me, I shall tickle you until you do! Or I might pinch you." Felicia began pressing her fingers together in an ominous fashion. "You know what an excellent pincher I am."

Georgiana held up her hands in defeat. "I shall tell you!" She breathed a sigh of relief when Felicia's fingers were safely hidden in the folds of her muslin morning dress. "But it is not something we usually discuss. Or should discuss."

Felicia grinned. "I cannot wait then."

"It is patently obvious I should have taken more time to know Simon better. But each time I was in his company, I felt—"

A rush of memories made her face heat so intensely she could only hope she did not set the silk cushions of the chaise longue ablaze.

"What? What was it you felt?"

How could Georgiana possibly explain such sensations? She had never anticipated being so wanton, yet with Simon, it had seemed perfectly natural. His leisurely kisses, his surreptitious touches, his obvious delight at her responses. . .

She shivered. Yet as pleasurable as it had been, it still did not make it easy to describe. Especially to a young miss who had even less knowledge of the topic than Georgiana.

"I felt—stirrings."

Felicia frowned, unable to decipher her meaning. "What sort of stirrings?"

Georgiana could not help but remember all the times Simon had elicited the most delectable, utterly sinful stirrings. Her body had clamored for his touch as soon as he entered a room. Even now she wanted his hands gliding over her skin, slowly moving aside her clothing so he could tempt her—

"Georgie! What do you mean by 'stirrings'?"

She gulped. "Urges. He made me feel desperately. . .urgent." She waved a hand vaguely. "Everywhere."

Felicia's eyes widened. She snuggled closer before whispering, "Was it wonderful?"

Georgiana sighed, blushing at the same time. "You have no idea how wonderful."

~~~~~

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Say Yes to the Proposal

Happy Valentine's Day! Sometimes love can be a nervewracking thing, like it is for my commitment-phobe heroine, Shelby, from I Do. . . or Die. Here's what happens when she gets a proposal of marriage from Ryan:

“Shelby, I love you.”

What? My breath caught. My heart started pounding so hard, I could barely hear the rest of his words.

“And I realized it when I was on vacation, and all I could think about was how I wished you were with me, and how much fun we would have if you were there.”

“You just wanted to see me in a bikini.”

His lips raised briefly. “Well, that would have been a bonus. I really missed your kooky humor, and how you make me laugh. I realize how bland everything is when you’re not around to spice things up.”

He gulped, searching my face for my reaction. I was still so stunned, I was speechless, so I squeezed his hands, hoping he wouldn’t think I’d just had a stroke and this was the only way I could communicate.

Although it kinda was.

“But I’m not your type,” I finally said.

“No one is more surprised by that than me.”

I leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his perfect lips.

“Ryan. I love you too. I was afraid to admit it to myself. I’d tried not to let it happen. It’s never happened before, so I didn’t know how to handle it. But when I nearly got shot and I realized I might never see you, ever again—”

My kiss this time was a little more fervent.

He still held my hands, and the next thing I knew, he was on one knee, gazing up at me.

“No. Ryan.” I tugged at his arm, trying to pull him up, so I could stop him before he said anything. But he was determined.

“Shelby, will you marry me?”

My heart thudded, in slow motion. A combination of fear, and excitement, and dread swirled inside of me. “Ryan, I—”

I could feel my forehead break out in a sweat, and then the room began to oscillate. I squeezed Ryan’s hands, to keep from slipping off my chair.

“Put your head between your knees,” Ryan said calmly, helping me with the task since I was about as useless as a girl could get right then.

“I wish your face was here instead of mine,” I said in a muffled voice.

~~~~~

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