It’s a dark, stormy night, and the students at The Phoenix House are telling stories around the fire. A sudden knock at the door starts a series of events that ends in murder.
The Novella is called Veiled In Mist, and it’s free this weekend, October 7-9, 2022.
Free October 7-9
I didn’t start out to write a Halloween story, but this book book ended up being part locked-room mystery, part adventure, but as always mostly romance. And it’s a perfect October read.
I admit, of all of my books so far, this has the most darkness. The girls in the school have experienced abuse in the past. (So a little trigger warning). When they hear about the return of their tormenter, each girl has to make a choice.
Lady Helen is smart, poised, a totally admirable character. She has a strong social conscience. The only problem is that her family has been disgraced. She’s hiding away from society. Helen wants to to be part of positive changes.
The Reverend David Jones, newly appointed Vicar is the perfect match for Helen, if only she’ll allow him to get close enough to get that romance moving. But he’s determined, we might even say stubborn.
When Helen is accused of murder, they have one day to prove her innocence and to discover the power of love.
Now that the Illusions series is complete, I have lowered the price of book one, The Secrets We Keep to .99 cents.
Click on the Buy Here Button
For the cost of a candy bar, you can have hours of enjoyment. Or you could splurge and buy both the book and the candy bar.
This is the first romance book I ever wrote. I still love it. I love Liza’s impulsive desire to save her father and Robert. It still tickles me the trouble she gets in, but her determination is so admirable.
And Robert, just home from the war, he’s trying to rekindle a romance with his neighbor and long-time friend. Why won’t she respond in a predictable way?
I hope you enjoy this Regency, Napoleonic war era Romance. (Please leave a review so others can find this delightful clean read).
Is it possible? If you’ve read a scary romance (story, novella, or novel), please tell me the title/author, especially if it was a good story.
My local library has a yearly scary story contest. The only rule is that the piece has to be eight pages or less.
I didn’t plan to write a scary story; it’s not really in my wheelhouse, but my all my fellow writers in my writer’s group were talking about it. Many of them write fantasy, science fiction, suspense, and horror-genres that lend themselves to a little scary. But someone suggested I try a gothic romance. I haven’t been able to forget about it since. Now I have four ideas, so I’m taking a little break from my latest novel and writing a few short stories. The only problem is I’m not sure I will be able to keep any of them to less than eight pages. So watch for a gothic story from me here on the site in October.
And, I’d love to read your scary story. If you’d like, I’ll post it here. Embrace the season with me and let’s all challenge ourselves to try something new!
In The Lies We Tell, when Amelia sees the young girls at the brothel, this refined lady acts in a way that is so outside her nature it surprised me. I wanted to explore what would make her unable to walk away from these poor girls. This question was the impetus to write my current Work in Process. Right now I’m calling it An Honorable Man. It’s a fun reverse Pygmalion story. Cecily (Amelia’s mother–And Amelia makes an appearance as a five year old) is helping Mr. Hatton make himself over so that he can enter into society.
I can’t believe how much I’m enjoying this story. Would you like a sneak peak?
I have a new page on the site. It’s called Free Romance Reads. If you’d like access, go ahead and sign up for my newsletter. You’ll get a free story, “One Stormy Day,” and I’ll give you the password to the page where I will be loading the first chapter of An Honorable Man. As time goes by, I will be adding other sneak peaks, deleted scenes, short stories and such.
When I first began writing, I had a character. Liza got into a mess, or she had to get her neighbor and father out of their mess. I had one book in my mind. Sometimes I worried a little that I would be a “one book wonder.”
Then Liza went to a ball and talked with a tipsy Amelia. I loved that scene. Amelia made an impression. She talked herself right into the second book. What a relief! And then toward the end of that first book, I met Sidonie. She was so engaging. Suddenly, I had a series. (I added two novellas somewhere in there too).
Then I had an idea for a short story, a prequel about Amelia’s mother. Except my short story wants to be a novel–I’m working on that now, a little more than half-way through. I do believe this will be the last book in this particular series. But did I only have one series in me?
I’ve discovered that there is something about writing, at least for me. The more I write, the more ideas come to me. I have three sisters that I can’t wait to write about. One of them needs to marry into money. Sometime soon I think I must do a spin-off series beginning with a book about Madeleine (The French agent that we meet in The Masks We Wear). I have a stand-alone knocking around in the back of my brain–a forced marriage, and some men recently returned from the war who meet once a week to play cards showed up in my brain and are waiting for romance.. The ideas just keep coming. I keep making notes and suddenly I have plans for the next year and a half. I can’t tell you how excited, and relieved I am to know that I have more than one book or one series in me.
I can’t wait for you to meet all the people who are now floating around in my brain just waiting to have their turn to tell their stories.
I’m in the middle of writing a new novel/novella to give to readers who sign up for my Love Notes. I realize that hose of you who already have subscribed have received my short story, One Stormy Day. Though technology isn’t my first language (or second or third), I will figure out a way to get this new free book to you. My plan is to have it ready to share in July, 2022!
Let me tell you about it. We could call this a teaser. The working title is An HonorableMan. (I’m trying to decide if that will change or not). Set in 1792, this is a prequel to Amelia’s book, The Lies We Tell. I tell the story of Amelia’s mother, Cecily and how she meets and falls in love with Mr. Hatton. It is also, and I don’t think this is a spoiler, a little bit of a reverse Pygmalion story. Who doesn’t love a makeover?
I also have another stand-along spin-off novella percolating in the back of my mind. I told myself I had the final novel, The Masks We Wear and this Prequel, and that would be the last of the Illusions Series, but in The Masks We Wear, I met Madeleine. She has a story. What happens to bring a young French woman to work with the British against Napoleon’s government?
I also have two or three more short stories (Mercy, Patience, Caroline) that want to be born. So watch for lots of free romance in the next few months. Because Love Is The Key.
Chance will not do the work—Chance sends the breeze; But if the pilot slumber at the helm, The very wind that wafts us towards the port May dash us on the shelves.—The steersman’s part is vigilance, Blow it or rough or smooth
Walter Scott, Fortunes of Nigel
Joie
I will apologize later. If I must. But if I do nothing, Meggie will be old, maybe even twenty-five, before Mr. Gerow gathers courage to act or Meggie lets him know she cares.
How do the English continue to populate this island?
I am only her maid, but I must help. So, I search Meggie’s papers until I find one with Mr. Gerow’s name inside a heart. On the back is a sketch of his face. Also, a poem.
Sun shines in his hair of gold,
The sky in eyes so blue.
Heart yearns to speak the words so bold,
But fear holds sway anew..
It’s a bad poem, but I must work with what I have.
Billy is in the stable. I don’t share my plans with him. I only say, “Meggie must go to town this afternoon, but first you are to deliver this packet to Mr. Gerow—into his own hands. Make sure you say to him that Meggie is going to the lending library this afternoon.”
He narrows his eyes. “Are you meddling again?”
My face warms, but I lift my chin. “How can you ask?”
He mumbles, “. . . stupid plots always get me in trouble.”
“Bah! My plots are never stupide. And it’s not a plot, just a little ruse, quite harmless.”
I ignore his shaking head and insist. “The packet goes to Mr. Gerow. Then you will drive us to the library. While we look, take the cart and pick up the order at the grocer’s. It is easy. You won’t get in trouble.”
Billy grumbles but does as I ask.
How will I convince Meggie to go to the lending library? I cannot search Mr. Gerow’s room, so I write a note myself.
Miss Margaret,
It has been so long since we’ve spoken, my heart is as gray as the skies. Reading is the best balm for dreary days. I will visit the lending library this afternoon. If you were there, I would choose a book for you. You could choose one for me.
Your Servant,
Perry Gerow
Trop sucré? Yes, too sweet, but Meggie reads it and does not suspect. She sighs and decides that she needs a book. I curtsy and tell her I will make everything ready.
We arrive first as I planned. When we climb down, Meggie says to Billy, “We won’t be long.”
I wave behind Meggie’s back and point down the street.
Billy shakes his head. I fold my arms and stare. He will be sorry if he doesn’t go. He scowls and leaves.
In the library, I settle in the darkest corner next to the history books. I can watch unnoticed.
Moments later, Mr. Gerow enters and bows.
Meggie curtsies. “Mr. Gerow. I think I know of a book for you. I wonder which you will choose for me.”
Mr. Gerow blinks, confused, but he inclines his head. “A fine rainy-day game. Let me think of the perfect book.”
Meggie’s brow furrows, but he smiles. Her face clears. Her eyes light up.
I let out a relieved breath.
They wander the shelves, meeting often, sharing small, secret smiles.
At one meeting, Mr. Gerow murmurs, “Meggie, I have missed you.”
My heart leaps, but I make no sound.
“I thought you must be scandalized, because of what I . . . before.”
“No! I have the greatest respect for you. But you might think I am like those men who—”
She grasps his arm. “Never. You are nothing like them.”
His hand lifts to her cheek. “If I am welcome—”
She smiles. “You’re most welcome.”
The shopkeeper drops a box. Meggie and Mr. Gerow jump apart. I close my eyes in frustration.
After another turn around the library, Mr. Gerow offers his choice.
“Oh,” Meggie exclaims. “Mr. Wordsworth’s poems.”
He whispers, “They are not as sweet as your poem, but you might enjoy—”
“My poem?” Her jaw drops, but she automatically reaches to take the book he holds. “What—” Their hands meet. She stops speaking and looks into his eyes.
The bell rings. Another customer enters. Blushing, Meggie pulls back.
I think of some French curses.
But Mr. Gerow does not look at the newcomer. “What have you chosen for me?” He asks.
Meggie lifts a book, bound in blue moiré with leather spine.
“Life Of Cowper.” He reads.
I roll my eyes. What is she thinking?
Meggie looks up through her lashes. “One day at Amelia’s, you said—”
His smile is blinding. “You remembered?”
“I think about it often.” She sighs.
“As do I.”
I let out a relieved breath.
Moments later they have checked out their books. They walk out into the rain, both flushed with pleasure.
I follow in their wake, satisfied with myself and my ruse.
“I’ll see you to your carriage.” He offers his arm.
“Thank you. Billy is—” Meggie starts then looks around. “He was right here.”
“I would be honored to drive you home.”
“You are very generous.” She takes his arm then shivers.
Mr. Gerow removes his coat and wraps it around her. Carriages rumble past, but they don’t hear. They remain motionless in that half-embrace.
He lowers his head. She lifts hers.
I hold my breath.
A large carriage pulls up. The coachman yells. “Move along.”
I groan in disgust. Can’t he see what is right in front of him? The British, they have no romance.
But when I look back, Mr. Gerow and Meggie are still gazing at each other.
One of the things about writing a novel, at least if you are a ‘pantser’ like I am, is that get to know unexpected characters. I have become quite fond of some of the minor characters in my novels.
After writing the first novel in the Illusions series, (The Secrets We Keep) I found that I really liked Liza’s best friend. So I decided to explore Maris Davies’ life. I planed to write a short story, one I could give away for free here on my site. To my surprise, Maris didn’t seem satisfied to be the main character in a short story. Her romance grew and grew until it became a novella–Smoke and Shadows, available on Amazon (only .99 Kindle download or free on Kindle Unlimited).
I finished Maris story, fell in love with Philip. Then I went back to writing The Lies We Tell, the second Illusions novel, (now available on Amazon). I really enjoyed writing Amelia and Mr. Michael Jones’ story. The writing just flowed. It felt good. (And once again I met some interesting minor characters).
To my surprise, one of those characters again demanded her own story. I just couldn’t leave Lady Helen disgraced and discouraged. So, another Illusions novella came to be. This is Veiled In Mist. Now available on Amazon.
Certainly now it was time for me to buckle down and finish the third and final (full length) novel in the Illusions series, The Masks We Wear (planned May 2022 release.). This is the story of Sidonie and Lieutenant Alexander James. I’m loving her personality and her adventures. I can’t wait to share them with you.
Except we can’t forget Susan, Liza’s faithful and resourceful maid from the first book. Liza couldn’t have found her answers and her happily ever after without Susan’s help. she sat at the back of my mind begging for some respect, time, and a little romance. Surely servants deserve a some romance. I know I’m not the only one who was charmed by Anna Smith and John Bates’ romance in Downton Abby? (Not Regency era, but still).
I thought about and wondered what would Regency England would look like for Susan. I had to write One Stormy Day, which is free when you subscribe.
Even though I’m editing like crazy this week, I couldn’t stop thinking about Joie and her meddling. She had a little role in getting Helen and Mr. David Jones together. I think she liked it. So, watch this week for a very short (experimental first time with flash fiction–1000 words or less) story where Joie creates another plot.
If you haven’t yet, sign up for my newsletter! I’ll be sending out a note this week to tell you where to get my experimental flash. This is also where you’ll receive notification of the release of my new books, appearances, and the free stories (some characters demand it), deleted scenes, cover art, or drawings.
Hint: I’m not trying to hide–I write romance novels
I am named after my paternal grandmother. She was Gaylie—Gaylie Belle. My parents, I can only suppose, wanting to update or personalize the name, changed it to Gayelynn. With an “e” in the middle. It’s my name. My everyday name. It was a tribute to my grandmother, whom I do not remember, but who is an integral part of my life.
However, never once, in all of my life, has anyone who is not in my family been able to spell it. At least not the first half dozen tries. Commonly, people struggle to pronounce it and often to remember it. When I embarked on this author’s journey, it didn’t seem ideal to use my name that readers can’t spell, say, or remember easily.
So, my decision to use a pen name. Now, as much as I love to find names for my characters, I didn’t want to just choose a pen name at random. I needed to feel comfortable thinking of myself as and answering to my pen name. So, I thought back on my childhood and remembered. For years, my mother called me Gigi.
It really was that easy. I am Gayelynn. I am also Gigi. I am comfortable being both.
My hope is that you can say it, spell it, remember it. Hi I’m Gigi Lynn. I’m a romance author.
Do you read the directions before you begin putting together the furniture or toy?
Someone wrote those patterns or instructions. And chances are good, they knew more than I about that process. So, I always plan to follow the directions.
But then a random thought intrudes. An idea takes root. This costume might look better with a different sleeve and maybe a different neckline. Could I meld these two patterns?
This quilt is lovely. I am going make it, but what if I put a Dresden Plate in the center, you know, make it a medallion quilt?
This recipe looks delicious, but I don’t have (or don’t like) this ingredient. What if I added this instead?
I seem innately unable to follow the directions.
In story writing there is a pattern. Story beats or plot points. There is pacing, three act structure—the list goes on, and on. These things make sense. People who know more than I have researched, noted, and written instructions about how to effectively tell a story. And publishers and agents have long experience to tell them what will sell—what people like to read.
But I have this character who appears in my mind. She (or he) begins her journey. She doesn’t care about plot points or story beats. She just wants what she wants or finds herself in the middle of a mess. As an author I know I need to create that character arc. I need to have a beginning, a middle and an end, but then a random thought intrudes. An idea takes root.
