Posts Tagged ‘Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’

Diana inexperience and uncertainties have discouraged the charming Mr. John Richfield or has she?

Thursday, February 7th, 2019

 

For as long as she can remember, Bethany Swafford has loved reading books. That love of words extended to writing as she grew older and when it became more difficult to find a ‘clean’ book, she determined to write her own. Among her favorite authors are Jane Austen, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, and Georgette Heyer.
When she doesn’t have pen to paper (or fingertips to laptop keyboard), she can generally be found with a book in hand.

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Twenty-year-old Diana Forester, a country-bred young woman, fears that her inexperience and uncertainties have discouraged the charming Mr. John Richfield. 
 
On arriving back home from London, she learns that he has already arrived, ready to continue their acquaintance and explore whether they are suited for each other. 
 
If Diana thought that deciding her future marriage mate was difficult in London, courting takes on a whole new aspect when Diana’s younger siblings become involved. She finds herself dealing with her own feelings, her sister, her younger brother, jealous members of a house party, a jilted suitor, and a highwayman as she falls in love with the charming Mr. Richfield.
 

 

Snippet:
Mother sat alone in the sitting room when I entered. “Come have a seat, Diana,” she said, gesturing to the space on the settee next to her. “Your aunt hinted you had something you wanted to share with me.”
“Yes, I do.” I crossed the room. The entire trip from London I had spent thinking of the best way to approach this subject. All of my planning vanished the closer I got to my mother. By the time I sat down, my hands were damp with moisture. “You recall I met a Mr. Richfield in London, shortly after I first arrived?”
“Yes, you mentioned him several times in your letters.”
            Her tone was matter-of-fact, giving absolutely nothing away, which I should have expected. Mother was an expert at keeping her thoughts to herself. “Well—” I hesitated as I sought the right words. I rubbed my palms against my skirt. “At Aunt Forester’s last dinner party, Mr. Richfield asked for my permission to come speak to father.”
            For a moment, there was silence. “What was your answer?” Mother asked, as calm as ever.
            I bit my lip and found I could no longer meet her gaze. “I fear I may have spoken without thinking.” Back when I had said the words, I had been surprised. Now though, I realized just how mistaken I had been. “I said it’s always pleasant to have someone new visit.”
          “I see. Do you like him?”
            Ah, there was the question. “I think so.” I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “He is respectable, at least as far as Uncle Forester could discover. No one ever had a word to say against him. I think he is a good man.”
            “And yet, you don’t seem enthusiastic about marrying him.”
            “I have only known him for a few weeks.” It felt good to be able to talk this out with my mother, now the awkwardness of saying the words had passed. If anyone could help me untangle my feelings, it was her. “Is that enough time to know a person? You knew Papa your whole life before he proposed.”
            Mother’s hand came over mine. “Diana, look at me.” I lifted my eyes to hers. “You are the only one who can make this decision. It is your right to refuse an offer you find distasteful. However, you need to understand it is not likely you will have the opportunity to travel again and meet other people.”
            “I don’t find the offer distasteful. I don’t think I know him well enough to accept his hand in marriage.” I sighed. “I wish I had had the time to know more about him.”
            “Perhaps you will.”
            I shook my head. That seemed an impossibility. “Mama, the look on his face when I pretended I didn’t understand. I acted as if I were a senseless, empty-headed child! What kind of man would pursue me in the face of that?”
            “A man who would be understanding. Someone who would realize your shy nature.”
            Pulling my hand away, I reached to pour myself some much-needed tea. “There are other, much prettier girls with better dowries than I,” I remarked, adding just the right amount of cream and sugar. “I doubt I will ever see him again.”
            Of that, I was quite certain. I had spent hours considering what a mess I had made of the situation. Why would he chase after me when Miss Reynolds was on hand to charm and flirt with him? I sipped my tea as I watched my mother’s face. Her smile was one I couldn’t quite understand. Why did she look so amused?

 

            “Mr. Richfield is already here.”
 

 

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Bethany Swafford dazzles with her stunning young adult debut, introducing a strong heroine, the hardships of frontier life, shocking twists, and a slow-burning romance

Monday, November 12th, 2018

 

For fans of A Knight of Silence and Read My Lips comes a YA historical western full of grit and heart…
 

In 1874, Ivy Steele’s deafness is more than a handicap. It’s a disease. Surrounded by a family that doesn’t understand her, she’s learned to cope and find solace where she can. Then, the unexpected happens. Her aunt dies, and her uncle sends her away to rejoin her father’s family in Montana.Left to fend for herself, after the companion hired to escort her abandons her, sixteen-year-old Ivy faces continual hardship and danger. Several men see an unaccompanied Ivy as a flower ripe for the picking, and things only get worse when masked men hold up their stagecoach.

Barely scraping through, Ivy makes it to Montana with her nerves shaken and what little money she has in her boot. Expecting a peaceful if not affectionate welcome, Ivy finds herself in greater hardship than she’s ever known.

Surrounded by a stepfamily that hates her, and flung into a life where hearing is vital, Ivy finds solace in a handsome cowboy named Remy. But things with her new family are not what they seem. And Ivy is about to find out that the danger she faced on the journey west, has followed her to Montana…

Bethany Swafford dazzles with her stunning young adult debut, introducing a strong heroine, the hardships of frontier life, shocking twists, and a slow-burning romance that will leave you wanting more.

Third place winner of the 2018 Rosemary Award

 

 

 
 

 

For as long as she can remember, Bethany Swafford has loved reading books. That love of words extended to writing as she grew older and when it became more difficult to find a ‘clean’ book, she determined to write her own. Among her favorite authors is Jane Austen, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, and Georgette Heyer.
 
When she doesn’t have pen to paper (or fingertips to laptop keyboard), she can generally be found with a book in hand. In her spare time, Bethany reviews books for a book site called More Than A Review.

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Top Ten List

Top Ten Favorite Reads of 2018

 

 

  1. Promises and Primroses by Josi S. Kilpack
  2. My Sister’s Intended by Rachel Anderson
  3. The Weaver’s Daughter by Sarah E. Ladd
  4. Loving Lieutenant Lancaster by Sarah M. Eden
  5. Murder of Half Moon Gate by Andrea Penrose
  6. A Dangerous Debut by Wendy May Andrews
  7. Secret of Pembrooke Park by Julie Klassen
  8. Duels and Deception by Cindy Anstey
  9. A Lady’s Guide to Etiquette and Murder by Dianne Freeman
  • Murder at Ochre Court by Alyssa Maxwell

 

 

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Phoebe is an annoyance and when they are together, physical injuries for one or the other occurs.

Wednesday, July 19th, 2017
“Lucas, you must return
home.”
 
Twenty two year old Lucas Bywood abandons his Grand Tour in
response to those words from his father. Everything is not well at home and he
finds himself in a bit of a fix. A little warning that his father had made
tentative arrangements for his marriage would have been nice but Luke really
wishes it had been anyone other than the young lady chosen. After all, Phoebe
Ramsey had always been an annoyance and any time they had spent together had
resulted in physical injuries for one of them. 
Just when Luke thinks he’s escaped that particular future, he
finds himself courting a young woman he doesn’t want, a furious best friend who
wants a duel to satisfy honor, and the responsibility of finding who and why someone had caused an accident for his mother. 

 

 

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For as long as she can remember, Bethany Swafford has loved reading books. That love of words extended to writing as she grew older and when it became more difficult to find a ‘clean’ book, she determined
to write her own. Among her favorite authors is Jane Austen, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, and Georgette Heyer.
When she doesn’t have pen to paper (or fingertips to laptop keyboard), she can generally be found with a book in hand. In her spare time, Bethany reviews books for a book site called More Than A Review.
Connect with the Author here: 

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Satisfied there was nothing untoward in my appearance, I made my way down to the drawing room, where my family always gathered before a meal. I passed a maid carrying a covered tray, Mama’s meal. I pursed my lips, not liking the thought of my mother eating alone night after night.

I could hear my family, Philippa above all the others, long before I reached the doorway. When I pushed the door open, she was in the middle of demonstrating some bit of silliness she had done earlier in the day. Stooped over in a ridiculous position, she glanced over and her face brightened with a broad smile.

“Luke!” she exclaimed as she straightened herself. “You look so grown up!”

“You are generous, Philly,” I said with a wry smile. I faced the rest of the group. Father was sitting by the fireplace with my older brother, George, standing at his shoulder. “Father, George. I hope I haven’t kept you waiting.”

I’d arrived downstairs several minutes early, so I was surprised when Father said, “I’m not the one to whom you should apologize, Lucas.”

Turning, I took a moment to study the seated woman. Her appearance was nothing like the kind of lady I’d believed my brother would choose as his wife, though she was pretty by any person’s standards. Her hair was blonde and curled around her face. Her figure was admirable, but it was the expression on her face that sent chills down my spine: one of judgment and disdain.

“You must be my new sister. I am delighted to meet you, ma’am. Welcome to the family.”

She shifted her blue-eyed gaze to my brother, refusing to acknowledge my greeting. “Rosamund, may I present to you my younger brother, Lucas,” George introduced formally. “Lucas, this is my wife, Rosamund.”

“So, the rapscallion brother finally decided to do his duty,” Rosamund said, returning her gaze to me. “Mister Lucas Bywood, I wish I could say it is a pleasure, but your reputation precedes you.”

Surprised by this greeting, I tried not to allow her words to annoy me. She could only have heard me described as a scapegrace from my family, but surely it was only said in a jocular manner! I may have chosen my own course in life, but I was by no means the disgrace to the Bywood family as she was implying.

“My dear sister Rosamund —I may call you Rosamund, may I not?” I stepped forward, caught her hand, and brought it up to my lips. The shocked expression on her face almost made me burst out laughing, but I controlled my features. “I have no doubt you will ensure my brother lives with absolute propriety.”

“What do you mean by that?” George demanded, bristling as he stepped closer.

Rosamund pulled her hand free of my grip. “Nothing at all, George,” I said, taking a step back. I glanced around the room and commented, “How quiet it is without Mama, Jane, Celia, and Jo here.

”My three older sisters had married before I had left for my Grand Tour, so I should have been accustomed to the reduced number of our family for dinner. Perhaps it was the lack of Mama that made me feel the change. The room just felt darker than I remembered it ever being.

“Isn’t that the nature of families, Master Lucas?” Rosamund asked primly. Her referring to me as “Master Lucas” made my lips twitch. Only servants called me that, and I doubted she would appreciate the comparison. And why was she referring to me as if I were a child? “Children grow up and make their own homes. You will, quite soon I am told, make a new start with your own bride.”

“Soon, you say? I’m afraid you have been misinformed, Rosamund. I have no intentions of settling down anytime in the near future.” I was amused by the notion until I saw my father’s face. And George’s face. And Philippa’s face? When it seemed no one else was amused, I stopped laughing. “Have I missed something?”

“You are engaged to Phoebe Ramsey, are you not? George told me you were.”

 

 

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A Chaotic Courtship

Friday, August 19th, 2016

 

 

For as long as she can remember, Bethany Swafford has loved reading books. That love of words extended to writing as she grew older and when it became more difficult to find a ‘clean’ book, she determined to write her own. Among her favorite authors is Jane Austen, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, and Georgette Heyer.

When she doesn’t have pen to paper (or fingertips to laptop keyboard), she can generally be found with a book in hand. In her spare time, Bethany reviews books for a book site called More Than A Review.
Connect with the Author here: 

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Twenty year old Diana Forester, a country bred young woman fears that her inexperience and uncertainties has driven Mr. John Richfield away. On arriving back home from London, she learns that he is already there, ready to continue their acquaintance. If Diana thought that it was difficult in London, courting takes on a whole new aspect when Diana’s younger siblings become involved. She finds herself dealing with her own feelings, her sister, her younger brother, jealous members of a house party, a jilted suitor, and a highwayman as she falls in love with the charming Mr. Richfield.

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Snippet:
 
“You recall I met a Mr. Richfield in
London, shortly after I first arrived?”
“Yes, you mentioned him several
times in your letters.”
Her tone was matter of fact, giving
absolutely nothing away.
“Well…” I hesitated as I sought
the right words. I rubbed my palms against my skirt. “At Aunt Forester’s last
dinner party, Mr. Richfield asked for my permission to come speak to Father.”
For a moment, there was silence.
“What was your answer?” Mother asked, as calm as ever.
I bit my lip and found I could no
longer meet her gaze. “I fear I may have spoken without thinking.” Back when I
had said the words, I had been surprised. Now though, I realized just how
mistaken I had been. “I said it’s always pleasant to have someone new visit.”
“I see. Do you like him?”
Ah, there was the question. “I think
so.” I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “He is respectable, at least
as far as Uncle Forester could discover. No one ever had a word to say against
him. I think he is a good man.”
“And yet, you don’t seem
enthusiastic about marrying him.”
“I have only known him for a few
weeks.” It felt good to be able to talk this out with my mother, now that the
awkwardness of saying the words had passed. If anyone could help me untangle my
feelings, it was her. “Is that enough time to know a person? You knew Papa your
whole life before he proposed.”
Mother’s hand came over mine.
“Diana, look at me.” I lifted my eyes to hers. “You are the only one who can
make this decision. It is your right to refuse an offer you find distasteful.
However, you need to understand it is not likely you will have the opportunity
to travel again and meet other people.”
“I don’t find the offer distasteful.
I just don’t think I know him well enough to accept his hand in marriage.” I
sighed. “I wish I had had the time to know more of him.”
“Perhaps you will.”
I shook my head. That seemed an
impossibility. “Mama, you didn’t see the look on his face when I pretended I
didn’t understand. He was so disappointed. I acted as if I were a senseless,
empty-headed child! What kind of man would pursue me in the face of that?”
“A man who would be understanding.
Someone who would realize your shy nature.”
As soon as I pulled my hand away, I
reached to pour myself some much-needed tea. “There are other, much prettier
girls with better dowries than I,” I remarked, adding just the right amount of
cream and sugar. “I doubt I will ever see him again.”
Of that I was quite certain. I’d had
hours to consider the whole mess. I sipped my tea as I watched my mother’s
face. Her smile was one I couldn’t quite understand. Why did she look so
amused?
“Mr. Richfield is already here.”
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Your kids don’t love books…help them

Saturday, October 22nd, 2011

Usually it takes motivated parents to get a kid to read.

For example, Monica has four boys and she started reading to them when they were babies. (more…)