and ready for Reviews!
My thanks to those of you who bought the book.
If you haven’t yet, I would love your support!
We got up the #201 but it has slipped back now. (This stat is for the ebook/Kindle which is where the numbers really count.) I am hoping for a burst of sales, but if I get 50 reviews in the next week or so Amazon will sit up and take notice. So far I have 8 which is a nice start for the first week.
Meanwhile, I am collecting the names of those that have told me they bought the book and I will have a drawing for a handmade prize at the end of the the month, or when I get 50 reviews (whichever comes first!) So if you haven’t shot me an email, messaged me, or tapped me on the shoulder, please let me know so I can add your name.
BUT I promised you another project involving the gown we designed together. Now we get to “junk” it up!
“What!?” you say. “Why spend hours making a lovely frock just to make it hideous?” Well, because we can. :o) All our embellishments can and WILL be removed, but I think it will be fun to keep adding to our dress to make it as outrageous as possible. (You will have to read the book to see how this figures into the plot.)
Here are some examples of what I call “Wedding Cake” dresses~
Now comes the inevitable question~How much is TOO MUCH?
Over the next week I am going to sift through my stashes of gewgaws and troll the thrift and discount stores for ruffles, laces and ribbons, Maybe even a few feathers! I will start adding to our dress and you all will tell when enough is enough! (Hopefully you will have gotten to the chapter where Anne is introduced to society and you will be able to picture how our frock should look!)
Check out my Pinterest board to see more inspiration for the book.
Here is an excerpt when poor Anne meets Devlin in all her finery~
He stood utterly magnificent in his black cut-a-way
tails and pristine white linen. An utter stranger, and
Oh, why had she not trusted her instincts? One
look at his face confirmed the horrible, irrefutable truth.
The hours in Madame Bathilde’s and Margaret’s
company had been tedious at the time, but it was
nothing to seeing the frozen surprise on her husband’s
Copious amounts of French floss now tickled her
neck and bosom. And feathers. Her nose twitched.
Please, you must not sneeze. Certainly no Owl this
evening, more like an overblown peacock. If only she
could be an ostrich instead. She would have turned
around to escape back to her rooms, regal be damned,
but for Austin’s firm arm keeping her fixed to his side.
Then later at the ball~
“Your pardon, Lady Devlin, I hope you will not
think me too forward approaching you without an
introduction, but I am in raptures over your gown.” A
woman with an astonishing amount of facial hair and
dressed entirely in black curtsied. A girl followed in her
Margaret beamed and stood taller, if that were
possible. “Lady Markham, may I present Lady Devlin,
Marchioness of Devlin. Lady Devlin, Lady Markham.”
Again curtsies were performed. Apparently, the
girl peeping out from behind did not warrant an
“What an astonishing gown, Lady Devlin. Is
chartreuse the newest fashion? I had no idea.
Joanna,”—the girl took a small step around her
ladyship’s skirts—“we shall have to take Madame
Broussard, our modiste, to task for keeping us in the
dark. But then, that shade of green is such a difficult
color on most complexions. I vow my dear Joanna
could not hope to pull it off.”
The poor girl looked at her slippers and sniffed. As
plain as the girl was, her gown was stunningly
beautiful, a simple ivory satin with tiny pleats as its
“Now I remember,” her ladyship continued. “I did
see the color of late on Lady Harper’s eldest gel. She
looked an absolute fright. Positively pea green. But, of
course,” she continued, her eyes narrowing as she
raised a quizzing glass and turned to Lady Austin, “the
girl has not much in the way of beauty to begin with.
Such a trial for her dear mama,” she tsked.
“However,”—she smiled at Anne—“you, Lady Devlin,
are very brave.” Her gaze swept over the dress once
again. “Very brave indeed.” And she curtseyed and
trundled off, tittering to her slack-faced daughter.