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24
May
2025

A Pressing Engagement: Part1

Hampshire, England March 1810

It must be easier to face Napoleon’s cannons than witness the anguish in Sara’s dark eyes. Jeremiah Wilton’s heart clenched at her tears. A woman’s cries always gnawed at him, and these were his fault.

“Good day, Mr. Wilton.” She swiped at her chin and pivoted to her easel. The thick meadow grass lapped her pale skirts. “Must I count the seconds ’til you depart?”

“Miss Hargrove.” He searched in vain for a handkerchief. His regimental held no pockets like his comfortable tailcoat. “Will you allow me to explain?”

“Two. Three.” She fussed with her paint jars. “I understand that certain gentlemen make a sport of pursuing ladies. You should’ve saved this game for Miss Helena Smithers. She’d be a very willing mark.”

“She’s Smithers’s little sister with a child’s infatuation. My intentions to you were honourable.”

“Yes, Mr. Wilton. Your letters describing a future, a home, …arm loads of children are full of honour. You pursued me, made me hope for a future that will not be. Oh, leave.”

Unable pivot and ride away, he stood there like a dunderhead staring at her rare display of emotion. Had she been this partial to him all along? No. It was only his heart breaking.

A slight breeze rustled the leaves of the bordering apple trees. He’d met her in these orchards and lost his reason shortly after.

“Nine, ten. Mr. Wilton, can’t you let this parting be done.”

His boots were rooted in place. Why did she have this power to make him question everything, even when he was in the right? The ambitions Providence called him to do, couldn’t be achieved love-struck.

Another gust of wind mussed the curls peeking from her mobcap. His best friend, Gerald Smithers, called the lock’s colour, cinnamon, more apt to describe the silk than brown. The night of the harvest dance, she’d lost a pearl comb, and her chignon spilled into Jeremiah’s fingers. A luscious accident, a memory to fortify him on the battlefield.

“Twelve, thirteen.” She tapped her paintbrush against her easel. “Go to Hargrove Manor and say farewell to my parents.” With a flip of her dainty wrist, she swirled some blue and grey, and another grey, probably green onto the center of her palette.

Should he comment on her art to regain her attention, maybe win one last smile? Tightness gripped his stomach. He must tread carefully and not expose his difficulty distinguishing colours, or she’d think him forward and a fool. Maybe if he were vague…. He coughed. “Your painting is beautiful.”

Her strokes made a mirror image of the sky, every fluffy cloud, even the streaks of light beaming down. The texture of the bark matched the roughness of the boughs as if she’d inked the trunk and pressed the canvas against it. How could such a dainty woman, barely up to his armpit, possess such great talent?

“Papa’s favorite Pippin. It will bud in the spring with shimmering cream blossoms, pretty enough for wedding flowers.” Her tone soured. “Leave.”

She waved at him to go, shooing as one would do to scatter chickens.

No more horrid indecision. He marched the short distance to Sara. A hint of her lilac fragrance touched his nose, and he gulped a deeper portion of the scented air. “If there was another way—”

“You’ve made it clear that these decisions, yours and your grandfather’s, are made.”

He reached for her but dropped his hand to his side. “I should never have imposed upon you.”

“Well, Mr. Wilton, you did.” She stroked her jaw with her cuff. Droplets stained the lace trimming. “If you’re not going to see my parents, please run and catch your regiment.”

“Don’t dismiss me.”

With her chin jutted, she spun around, her eyes wide with fire. “This is not my fault. I’m not the one who sought this meeting. I’m not the one breaking a promise.”

“Technically, I never made a promise.” He shouldn’t have said that. Now was not the time for precision.

Her lips pursed. She gripped her paintbrush as if she sought to throw it at him. “No, you haven’t made an offer.”

Would an oil paint stain sponge from his uniform? “I have family obligations. With my brother’s early death, someone must fight in his stead.”

She lowered her weapon to a rag and cleaned its bristles, and he caught her balled fingers. “There are many things that weighed on my mind. Miss Hargrove, I must know you forgive me.”

“Why care now what I think?” She bit her lip, then caught his gaze.

“I planned to propose, but, I must distinguish myself in military service. Perhaps regain some of the respectability my father wasted.”

She shook her head. “His scandals never mattered to me. You excelled at the law. There is honour in that.”

“You paid attention to my prospects?”

Her expression softened as her tender lips released a sigh. “There is nothing about you which escapes me. Why else would I avoid wearing rose trims or anything emerald?”

Red and green, baneful hues. He rocked back on his heels. She knew of his difficulties? How ironic for a man with vision challenges to love a vibrant artist. “You never said anything.”

“You don’t seem to be comfortable with colour, and it pleased me to know you worked hard to admire my art even sending a friend to spy”

“Smithers’s my constant ally, but he’s not terribly discreet.” Jeremiah tugged off his gloves and dropped them away, then tucked a loose tendril behind her ear. “He’s to look after you while I’m gone, that is until you marry.”

Catch Part 2 on Thursday

Originally posted 2014-05-12 08:00:00.

21
May
2025

Red Velvet Kisses: An Interview with Laurie Alice Eakes

categories: Uncategorized

Vanessa here,

I am so excited to interview my friend and mentor, Laurie Alice Eakes and celebrate her new Regency, A Lady’s Honor. Welcome Laurie Alice to my southern porch. I know you are steeped in writing the second book in this series, I’m just glad you could make it.

LAE: I am working on the second book in the series, and can’t say too much about it or I’ll give too much away about the first book.

You do know how to leave a girl hanging. Any way tell me about A Lady’s Honor‘s Elizabeth Trelawny.

LAE: Elizabeth has issues with God’s provision, or simply God in general. Rowan Curnow gave me trouble. He’s is too self-reliant. Pride, I think, is the main problem both of them face, the roadblock between them and a relationship with the Lord.

As you set your heroine(s) on their journey, do their lessons model your own life experiences or something else?

LAE: I think all my books give away a little part of where I have been at one time or another in my life. In A Lady’s Honor, my heroine deals with perfection. I have soooo been there.

Been there too. It takes so much: God, the love of friends and family, and a big pot of coffee to be comfortable in your own skin. What was the most difficult or interesting research fact that you discovered that you used in this book?

LAE: It’s probably only interesting to a nerd like me and is tangled up in inheritance laws, entails, and marriage laws.

Given the strict societal norms of the Regency, how did you challenge or use it in this book?

LAE: Ah, that’s part of the journey. My heroine engages in actions that would likely ruin her in society and probably get even her small freedoms greatly curtailed. All through the story, she struggles with this behavior until… Well, sometimes we have to make decisions that are in someone else’s interest rather than ours. That’s how I use the strictures over females’ behavior during the time period.

What spiritual truth would have made the difference to your heroine’s journeys, if they had realized it at the beginning.

LAE: If she knew them at the beginning, then her journey would probably not have been worth telling. Elizabeth–Elys in Cornish–thinks she has to be above reproach to be loved–and she keeps failing at the former.

I love food. I love passion. I have a passion for food. How would you rate the passion of this novel on a scale of yummy goodness?

LAE: I probably would have said chocolate mousse, but red velvet will do nicely–rich, sweet, and heady.

OooLaLa, Laurie Alice. Ok, now you have have to dish. Tell me about that first kiss.

LAE: I love that first kiss in reading or writing a book. It is a special moment, a turning point in the novel. Nothing is the same after that kiss. What I am thinking is what I believe the hero and/or heroine are thinking. If the scene demands chocolate or music, then, yes, I’ll think about one of those. As a general rule, however, I rarely use props to write. It’s all in my head and my heart. Or perhaps it’s in the heads and hearts of the people kissing.

How would you describe your career? What do you define as successful?

LAE: Ha! The bar seems to keep moving. Once upon a time, I answered that question with: When I can sell the book without having to write it first. Now that I have done that many times over, I haven’t figured out where the bar has gone. Perhaps when I’m more than an Amazon bestseller?

Please, pretty please. Tell us about the series.

LAE: The series is The Cliffs of Cornwall. The second book will come out early next year and features the blacksheep cousin introduced in A Lady’s Honor. The third book will follow and focuses on the return of the heroine’s exiled older brother. All three books probably can be called historical romantic suspense. I can’t seem to write without a dead body or two popping up somewhere, or else the hero and/or heroine getting into danger.

If there is one take away you want the reader to know after finishing this book, what would it be?

LAE: You will only find unconditional love through in our Lord and Savior. Seeking it elsewhere will lead to heartache and disappointment.

Thank you so much for spending time, answering all my questions. Next time we meet up at conference, I buying the red velvet cupcakes. Can I find some with a dollop of chocolate mousse insides?

To kick things off, Laurie Alice is hosting a special contest. It starts today and runs through midnight on Sunday, May 4. To enter the giveaway, answer the question at the end of the blog post. A new question will be given with each post, so a person can enter up to four times. At the end of the contest, there will be two winners chosen, and the prizes are from Cornwall, England, where A Lady’s Honor is set. The winners will receive:

1. Either a Celtic knot necklace:

2. Or a hand blown Cornish ring dish. Ring Holder

3. Both winners will also receive a $15.00 gift card to either Barnes and Noble or Amazon.

Now here’s a little more about the book:

A tarnished reputation. A distant home. A forced engagement to a dangerous man. When Elizabeth Trelawny flees London, she has more than one reason to run. And when her carriage, pursued by her would-be fiancé, is caught in a storm, she quickly accepts the help of a dark stranger. Anything to get back to Cornwall.

Rowan Curnow is not exactly a stranger. Not quite a gentleman either, class disparity once kept him from courting Elizabeth . . . even if it didn’t keep him from kissing her.

The couple elude their pursuers and reach Bastian Point, Elizabeth’s future inheritance and the one place she calls home. But in the very act of spiriting her to safety, Rowan has jeopardized Elizabeth’s inheritance—if her Grandfather ever learns she spent the night, however innocently, in the company of a man.

When smugglers unite the pair in a reckless, flirtatious alliance—an alliance that challenges the social norms that Elizabeth has been raised to revere and rattles Rowan’s fledgling faith in God—Elizabeth must choose between the obedience of a child and the desires of a woman: whether to cling to the safety of her family home or follow the man she loves.

A Lady’s Honor received 4 1/2 stars from The Romantic Times, which said, “Beautiful 19th century Cornwall offers a contemplative setting for this dramatic romance that involves murder, suspense and a surprise villain. Elizabeth and Rowan are both on a journey to discover that they are worthy of love.”

And Publisher’s Weekly stated, “Eakes delivers beautifully written romantic suspense set in Cornwall during the Regency era.”

Today’s quiz question: A Lady’s Honor is about a couple who are of different classes. The hero’s not quite a gentleman. If you’ve been romanced by a bad boy, someone from the wrong part of town, what was the most surprising thing you learned about yourself?

Be sure to come back Monday for a post about the history surrounding A Lady’s Honor and another chance to win.

Originally posted 2014-04-24 08:00:00.

20
May
2025

Write of Passage: Fire, Frolic, and the Fragile Threads of Humanity

categories: Podcast - Write of Passage, Politics, Recommended Reading, Syndication, Technology, TV and Film

This week, I went through a whirlwind of emotions—yes, whirlwind. That’s the word. It captures the highs and lows, the unpredictable moments, the shared grief, reflection, and the surprising grace that shaped these past few days. All these feelings—they live in pictures.

Picture this: an artist gifted in creating larger-than-life floral and celebratory installations-roses, sunflowers, and even huge gift boxes with perfect bows. I found one of her creations buried among the thousands of photos on my phone. I went searching for it after hearing she died—suddenly—of a heart attack. She was in her mid-forties. I’d only seen her two or three times, but every encounter was vibrant. She was joyful, always present, always tweaking one last detail so others would want to take a picture beside her work. Her name was Mary. She made an impact. I look at that photo and smile, remembering her smile.

This loss was sudden. Mary was very close to a friend of mine. Mary was central to my friend’s community. When your friend grieves someone central to their world, you grieve with them. And in that shared sorrow, something happens. You become deeply grateful—not just for what you have, but for the very fact that your people are still here. You reflect. You look at your own life, and the things you were grumbling about five minutes ago suddenly don’t matter so much. Perspective shows up, kicks you in the pants—uninvited, but necessary.

Then, another picture: a fire. Not just any fire—the one that consumed Nottoway Plantation, the largest antebellum plantation that was still standing in the United States. A place layered with contradictions, history, and pain. The blaze left it gutted. I studied the photos—before, during, and after. I watched the memes—because TikTok, Threads, and Instagram are unmatched when it comes to irony and reaction. Beyond the satire, there is truth.

No one died in the fire. But that doesn’t erase the deaths that still haunt that land—the men, women, and children who lived, labored, and died under a brutal system of forced servitude. Some say Nottoway is haunted. It should be. The owners memorialized the slave drivers’ quarters. I like to think the spirits of the enslaved were there, too, watching the flames, bearing witness as the restored “Massa’s house” turned to ash.

Nottoway was a tourist site, a wedding venue, a workplace, a symbol. People will be out of work. The state will take an economic hit. These are facts. But there is a deeper truth that sits beside those facts: Nottoway was a sugar plantation. And sugar plantations were among the worst of all plantation systems.

I know this because of the research I did for Sister Mother Warrior and Island Queen. The facts still haunt me:

* The death rate on sugar plantations in the Caribbean and southern states was three to four times higher than on cotton plantations.

* Enslaved people on U.S. cotton plantations had a life expectancy of 30–35 years. On sugar plantations, it was often 10 years or less.

* The work was brutal—cutting cane, operating machinery, surviving the suffocating heat of the boiler houses.

* If you were sentenced to work the boiling vats, it was basically a death sentence. Dehydration, exhaustion, and the relentless heat killed faster than the whip. And that doesn’t count the beatings, the rapes, and the starvation.

I made a post about the fire on Instagram. Most of the responses were respectful. But some fixated on the “grandeur” lost—as if it were Notre Dame. Others insisted I should “get over it.” That all the perpetrators are dead. That the world should move on. Let’s put in pin in this moving notion. I’ll circle back.

Another disturbing image circulating came from still of Nottoway’s scripted tours praising the “humanity” of the plantation, claiming it trained a nurse and built a hospital for the enslaved. That is a lie. There was no formal training. They likely identified a woman who showed skill with herbs and healing and used her ancestorial knowledge. The hospital was not about care—it was about profit. It was cheaper to repair a broken body than to buy a new one. These “hospitals” weren’t acts of mercy. They were maintenance hubs for human chattel.

One of the worst stories I came across still wakes me up at night. A method of execution used on some sugar plantations: the “sugar death.” An enslaved person would be buried up to the neck in sand. Then, boiling sugar syrup was poured over their exposed skin—usually the head. The syrup burned and blistered, but that wasn’t the end. The spilled sugar attracted the ants. The person would die slowly, in excruciating pain, as ants devoured them alive. It was sadism as spectacle. A warning. A lesson. A horror.

How exactly do you “get over” that? How do you erase the knowledge that human beings chose to do that to others—and passed it on, generation after generation? How do you get over knowing that, given the chance, there are people today who would do the same?

But then, a final image. This saved my writing week. It was a photo of frolic. Two Black women—one in a sleek column dress, the other in a romantic, flowy one—running joyfully through a green field in Vatican City. The sun is shining. I imagine the smell of olives in the air, the promise of wine at sunset. Gayle King and Oprah, radiant, laughing, free. That image brought me back to smiling Mary. Not because it was glamorous, but because it reminded me of joy, personal joy.

We need joy. We need moments of frolic. In the middle of pain, of grief, of hard histories—we have to fight for joy. We must protect it, speak to it, defend it. Frolicking is resistance. It’s choosing self, choosing family, choosing rest, choosing humanity.

So yes—we mourn. We reflect. We carry reverence for the past, the true past. But we must also touch grass, run barefoot through a field, choosing self, friends, and family.

To those who are grieving, I offer this: find one photo. One memory. One moment that brings you joy. Hold on to it. Then look for more. Or make more, one moment at a time.

Books that can help you focus on joy and history in meaningful ways are:

Before I Let Go by Kennedy RyanA second-chance romance that explores grief, healing, and Black joy.

The Warmth of Other Suns by Isabel WilkersonEpic account of the Great Migration—deeply researched and emotionally charged.

What the Fireflies Knew by Kai HarrisA coming-of-age story told through the eyes of a young Black girl navigating grief and growing up in 1990s Michigan.

The Heaven & Earth Grocery Store by James McBrideA community of outsiders in 1920s Pottstown, PA, comes together around a hidden deaf boy—tender, funny, and full of humanity.

And of course

Island Queen: A historical novel based on the real-life rise of Dorothy Kirwan Thomas—her rise from enslavement to one of the wealthiest women in the Caribbean.

Sister Mother Warrior: An epic saga of resistance, sisterhood, and revolution—based on the true story of the women who helped shape the Haitian fight for freedom.

Show notes include a list of the books mentioned in this broadcast. This week, I’m highlighting Hub City Books through their website and Bookshop.org

You can find my notes on Substack or on my website, VanessaRiley.com under the podcast link in the About tab.

If this essay touched you or lit a spark, show some love—hit like and subscribe to Write of Passage!”

Thank you for listening. Hopefully, you’ll come again. This is Vanessa Riley.

This is a public episode. If you’d like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit vanessariley.substack.com/subscribe

18
May
2025

Deliciously Layered: An Interview with Naomi Rawlings

categories: Uncategorized

Vanessa here,

It is my great pleasure to have Naomi Rawlings with me on my southern porch. Glad you weathered the pollen to allow me to join the celebration for the release of The Soldiers Secrets. This is the sequel to your Love Inspired Historical debut, Sanctuary for A Lady.

Naomi: Yes, this story is actually the sequel to the first novel I ever wrote, Sanctuary for a Lady. It was exciting to take a character who had a less than stellar reputation in my first novel and transform him. I hope readers will be inspired by the transformation they see in Jean Paul Belanger.

Vanessa: Tell me about your heroine in this novel. What makes Brigitte tick?

Naomi: Brigitte Dubois will do anything to keep her family safe. When she is blackmailed by her father-in-law, his quest for revenge leaves her no choice. To protect her children, she must spy on the man who may have killed her husband. But Jean Paul Belanger is nothing like she expected. The dark, imposing farmer offers food to all who need it, and insists on helping Brigitte and her children . . .

Vanessa: Brooding is good. Is Mr. Rawlings a brooder? I mean, are there any similarities between this book and your life?

Naomi: No, they don’t model my own life experiences. I certainly hope I never have to live through the French Revolution or be left widowed with 5 children or asked to spy on someone. However, I think some of the mistakes Brigitte makes and lessons she learns about honesty and honoring God are universal to everyone, even if the situation itself is rather unique.

Vanessa: The French Revolution is an intense period in time. What shocked you about it?

Naomi: It’s rather sad, but I learned that 85% of people killed during the Reign of Terror were peasants, not your aristocrats or your clergy, but just regular people accused of being a “traitor to liberty.”

Vanessa: So everyone killed wasn’t Marie Antoinette. Why do I suddenly want cake? I’m digressing. Can you sum up Jean Paul’s and Brigitte’s journey in one word?

Naomi: Honesty—watching Jean Paul discover (the importance of being honest) that lesson for himself is an intrinsic part of the story. I enjoyed writing about the different choices both characters made until they realized where they went wrong and how to correct things.

Vanessa: You probably know I am a foodie. If you had to rate the passion of this novel (smokin’ like Louisiana ribs, tepid like warm chamomile tea, deliciously layered by red velvet cake, or some other food.) what would it be?

Naomi: Oh, good question! I would go with “deliciously layered by red velvet cake.” There are a lot of emotions and attraction swirling between Jean Paul and Brigitte, but things are definitely complicated and “layered.” Brigitte has her children to consider first, and then she’s not sure if she can trust Jean Paul. Jean Paul, on the

Picture from uwyoextension.org

other hand, has been hurt before and is still carrying wounds. When you put everything together, “deliciously complicated” is definitely a good description.

Vanessa: Now I really want cake, something with a lot of layers and bliss icing. Tell me about your favorite scene. Kissing right?

Naomi: No. I have one instance where Brigitte is trying to defend Jean Paul to one of the guards. She’s very ardent in her defense, claiming he’s gentle, caring, and compassionate, but the entire time, she has doubts in her head. As much as she wants to believe Jean Paul, she doesn’t really know. It was a fun scene to write with the conflicting emotions and war inside my heroine’s head.

Vanessa: But there is kissing right. Fine don’t answer. I’ll get the book. Last question, is there one message you want the reader to take with them after finishing this book?

Naomi: The importance of honesty and trusting God, but I don’t want to say more than that lest I give the book away.

Vanessa: Thank you Naomi, for spending time on my porch. Congratulations on this book. Let’s all get it and enjoy the layers.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Originally posted 2014-04-07 09:00:00.

14
May
2025

Lucky Number 13…. The Winner is?

categories: Uncategorized

Vanessa here,

We love guests, especially other Regency enthusiasts presenting their card to our footman for admission to join us at our Blog Ball. On February 13th, Julie Klassen stopped by and taught a few dance moves with her latest release, The Dancing Master.

We also had a lot of brave souls sharing their dancing triumphs and disasters.

Lucky number 13 from the bottom, Sybil Bates McCormack is the winner of her choice of ebook or print of The Dancing Master.

Congratulations. Keep dancing.

Originally posted 2014-03-10 11:57:24.

13
May
2025

Write of Passage: What in the World

categories: Podcast - Write of Passage, Politics, Recommended Reading, Syndication, Technology, TV and Film

Funny thing happens when you go outside.You notice that everything is still moving—still shifting, still becoming—and no matter how much I want it to revolve around me, the earth does its own thing. That’s humbling. That’s sobering. And yes, at times, alittle infuriating. Because I want to believe that if I just dream hard enough, andwork long enough, and sacrifice deep enough, the outcome will be what I want it to be.

That’s the narrative, right? Manifest it. Hustle for it. Build it and it will show up.

But I’m a novelist. And if there’s one thing I’ve learned from writing story after story, it’s this: you can do everything right and still be surprised by the ending.

I begin my novels with a solid outline. I do deep dives into my characters—their goals, their beliefs, their relationships, and internalized lies. Yes, the lies we carry. The ones that sit rotting in our guts. They’re the lenses through which we interpret everything.

You’re smart… Smart for a girl. That builds a complex—not about excelling, just about measuring up.Men don’t cry… So they keep loss inside until it breaks them.

You get the picture.

For each character, I must know the lies they’ve accepted as truth, the wounds they carry that must be healed by the journey or story arc. These are full psychological profiles that I develop, mind you. I’m thorough. I think I know these imagined or fictionalized versions of real people better than they know themselves.

And still—those characters go off and do whatever the heck they want to do. They have free will.These changes—the veering off course—happen in a world I designed. And in some aspects, I’m their creator.

If this happens in fiction—fiction—why do I expect real life to follow a given path?

This is where we, as creatives, have to hold two truths at once: We have incredible power to imagine and make. And we have almost no control over how the world will respond. That is not a contradiction. That is your calling.

This is the battle. Creativity is under assault. Let’s not pretend otherwise. Books are being banned. Funding is being slashed. Whole histories are being erased or whitewashed. And in my case, as I’ve shared openly with you words, I need to use for my stories are being banned. (See podcast episode- Welcome to Censorship)

But despite all that—people are still painting. Still writing, publishing, creating. We still feed our families and their spirits with meals inspired by faraway places.

I may make more food at home right now, but with lovely spices? Oh, they’re Caribbean, Italian, French, Indian. I’m not limited. We are not limited.

And I refuse to give away my power because someone with a louder megaphone thinks yelling is the same as truth.

Recently, the world changed again: We have a new pope.

A 133 cardinal electors gathered in the Sistine Chapel to choose to choose him. Cardinal Robert Francis Prevost of Chicago, Illinois, has been elected the 267th pontiff of the Roman Catholic Church. He will be known as Pope Leo XIV—the first pope ever from the United States.

An American pope. From Chicago. A man of Creole, Haitian, and Black ancestry. And while this isn’t the first Black pope—history records at least three others:Pope Victor I (189–199), Pope Miltiades (311–314), and Pope Gelasius I (492–496).

This election still matters. Why? Because no one saw it coming. Because he is from here. Because he chose the name Leo XIV—following Pope Leo XIII, the pope who denounced slavery. In a world trying so hard to erase the past, that choice feels like a restoration. A breath of truth. A puff of white smoke in a sky of dirty smog and denial.

This is what hope looks like: a surprise rooted in deep legacy. A story arc no one plotted, but that landed with power.

Now, let’s be real about the work ahead Shake off the shackles. Listen to hard truths.

For authors and creators out there—especially us Black folks:

* No one owes you anything.Not an award, not a list spot, not a book sale, not a post about your personal life—not even a selfie.

* As an author, you have to earn every bit of support, every accolade, every “yes.”That’s the job.

* As a Black author, the grind is steeper.You can’t coast on past wins. You’ve got to win readers over—again and again.

* If you’re not where you want to be—cry, scream, kick a pillow.But don’t quit. And don’t compare. You don’t know the price someone else paid to get what they got.Be thankful for where you are and who’s standing beside you.

* Keep writing. Keep connecting. Keep striving.Earn it. Build it. Own it.

* Grow the bucket list. Manifest it all.You deserve every win—because I know you’re putting in the work. I’m rooting for you.

The world keeps turning. It’s not waiting for me or you. But that’s not terrible. It means we’re part of something bigger than the moment. It means our stories, our voices, our presence—matter.

Because even when everything feels unpredictable, we still have the power to show up and create—and make something unexpected happen.

And it will feel good and satisfying, even if you are the only one clapping.

Books to help you on your writing and creative journey:

Awaking the Hero Within by Carol S. Pearson

Examines archetypes and how they shape not just stories but our personal transformations

Big Magic: Creative Living Beyond Fear by Elizabeth Gilbert

Encourages writers and creators to keep going, to trust inspiration, and to work without guarantees.

In the Wake: On Blackness and Being by Christina Sharpe

A haunting, brilliant reflection on Black life, history, and navigating systems built to erase.

And Preorders are up fo for my next historical fiction, Fire Sword and Sea. This is A dangerous 1600s Pirate Saga unmasking the truth about women, desire, and freedom. Some folks want to ban this story—so read it first.

Show notes include a list of the books mentioned in this broadcast. This week, I’m highlighting 44th and 3rd Bookstore through their website and Bookshop.org

You can find my notes on Substack or on my website, VanessaRiley.com under the podcast link in the About tab.

If you felt seen or inspired today, like and subscribe to Write of Passage—there’s a place for you here.

Thank you for listening. Hopefully, you’ll come again. This is Vanessa Riley.

This is a public episode. If you’d like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit vanessariley.substack.com/subscribe

11
May
2025

One, Two, Three… Dance With Me. A Wondrous Set With Julie Klassen

categories: Author Interview, Book Reviews, Contests, Regency Hero, Regency Romance

“What place is so proper as the assembly-room to see the fashions and manners of the times, to study men and characters…” Thomas Wilson, Dancing Master, An analysis of Country Dancing, 1811, pg. 6 of The Dancing Master.

Vanessa here,

It was late. The lights had dulled. I turned to leave, and there across the crowded bookstore, I saw it. A book like no other.

Timed to the subtle Barnes & Noble background minuet, I stepped near and ran a finger along it’s fine spine. It whispered a blurb just for me.

Finding himself the man of the family, London dancing master Alec Valcourt moves his mother and sister to remote Devonshire, hoping to start over. But he is stunned to learn the village matriarch has prohibited all dancing, for reasons buried deep in her past.

Alec finds an unlikely ally in the matriarch’s daughter. Though he’s initially wary of Julia Midwinter’s reckless flirtation, he comes to realize her bold exterior disguises a vulnerable soul—and hidden sorrows of her own.

Julia is quickly attracted to the handsome dancing master—a man her mother would never approve of—but she cannot imagine why Mr. Valcourt would leave London, or why he evades questions about his past. With Alec’s help, can Julia uncover old secrets and restore life to her somber village . . . and to her mother’s tattered heart?

Filled with mystery and romance, The Dancing Master brings to life the intriguing profession of those who taught essential social graces for ladies and gentlemen hoping to make a “good match” in Regency England.

The Dancing Master by Julie Klassen

It had me at Finding. With The Dancing Master tucked firmly in my grasp, I gave the attendant my coins and fled to a carriage, content in the knowledge I’d found a joy to keep me warm through the frigid Atlanta night.

Vanessa: Today at R&R we have Julie Klassen joining us. Julie, it is my pleasure to welcome you back to Regency Reflections. The Dancing Master ‘s premise really intrigues me. Normally, we see Regency books with the hero as a duke, a barrister, a spy, or maybe a doctor, but a dancing master, not so much. How did you come up with this idea?

Julie: In Regency England, dancing was one of a limited number of ways young men and women could spend time together or court one another. It was considered such an important social skill that parents hired dancing masters to come into the homes and teach their sons and daughters to dance. “Every savage can dance,” Mr. Darcy says, but unless one wished to dance very ill (Mr. Collins comes to mind) lessons were crucial. So, as an author of half a dozen other books set in the Regency era—and someone who loves to dance–it was probably only a matter of time until I wrote about a dancing master. As I say in my author’s note, I learned to dance the box step standing atop my dad’s size 15 triple E shoes. Later, I went on to take every ballroom dance class I could sign up for at the University of Illinois. I even taught a few dance classes of my own through community ed. I enjoyed drawing on all of these experiences to write this book. Like ballroom dancing, I find English country dancing exhilarating, joyful, and just plain fun. I hope to express that joy in the novel.

Vanessa: Wow, Dad has some big shoes to fill. Poor Mr. Klassen, has his work cut out for him, between dad and all of your romantic heroes. Tell me about what kind of research you conducted. Hopefully plenty of dancing.

Julie: I read instructional guides and journals written by dancing masters of ages past, and watched reenactors perform English country dances online. But the best and most enjoyable kind of research was actually learning dances from that period. My dear, long-suffering husband and I went English country dancing several times.

I also attended the annual general meeting of the Jane Austen Society of North America, held in Minneapolis in 2013. There, I took two more dancing classes to polish my skills before the “Netherfield ball,” complete with live musicians and costumes. It was a wonderful experience to dance with fellow Austen fans from around the world.

During the conference, we also watched a BBC production: “Pride And Prejudice: Having A Ball.” In this program, a team of experts recreated a private Regency ball, complete with historical food, costumes, music, and dances. Unlike most of the sedate dances we see performed in period movies nowadays, in reality many of the dances of the era were fast paced and lively. Those of us watching were surprised how energetic the dances were, and how the performers (trained dancers in their twenties) were breathing hard and perspiring after a few dances.

By viewing the program and taking the dance classes, I gleaned several details to include in The Dancing Master. For example, when a couple reaches the top or bottom of a long-ways set (line of dancers) they stand out for a round before working their way back up or down the line. This gives couples a breather, and more importantly, a chance to talk and flirt with their partners!

If you’d like to learn more about the JASNA conference, here’s a fun video my publisher took of me (in costume) at the event. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y5KmFKlJlfk

Vanessa: Ok, enough of the pleasantries. Julie, tell me about dreamy Alec Valcourt.

Julie: Alec is capable, loyal, and determined to support his mother and sister. He is a sharp dresser, prefers to keep his hands clean, and wields a fencing sword far better than an axe or spade in a rural village where most men are farmers or miners. As you can imagine, this leads to several painful scrapes along the way.

Vanessa: Why is Julia Midwinter the perfect foil to Alec?

Julie: Julia is a bit reckless, flirtatious, and difficult. But like many people in real life, there is more going on beneath the surface—and in her past—that has made her who she is. As the story unfolds and secrets are revealed, Alec begins to see the vulnerable, wounded soul beneath the brash exterior. He learns to understand her and becomes fond of her, especially as she begins to grow and change, and I hope readers will follow his lead.

Vanessa: Growing and changing. Sigh. I know I’ve made a few mistakes on that road. What spiritual truth would have made a difference to Julia, if she had realized it at the beginning?

Julie: All her life, she had been seeking a father’s love and approval. And if she could not have a father’s love, then any man’s approval would do. She had strived so long and so hard to gain attention in the wrong ways and from the wrong people…. If Julia had realized earlier that even though her earthy father failed her, her heavenly father loved her and highly valued her–she might have avoided some of the foolish things she did to try to fill the void left by the absence of a father’s love.

Vanessa: After reading Julia’s and Alec’s story, what else do have for us. There will be more cold nights in Atlanta.

Julie: I am currently working on rewrites for my next Regency-era novel with Bethany House Publishers. It’s a mysterious romance called The Secret of Pembrooke Park, and is due to be released December 2014.

Vanessa: Julie, The Dancing Master, is an amazing book. Asking this of any author is unfair, but if you could sum up the spiritual journey in one word what would it be?

Julie: Grace. I enjoyed weaving in grace in its many forms–social graces, grace in dancing, and most importantly, God’s grace—and I hope readers will be reminded of His amazing grace for us all.

Vanessa: Thank you for being a great sport and sharing this special book with us.

Julie: Thank you for having me here!

Julie Klassen is going to give away a paperback or e-book copy of The Dancing Master to one lucky commenter. Share with us your favorite dance, dance scene, or dance disaster. Mine took place at last year’s RWA conference when I tried to do a reel. There’s video….

Any way, here’s an excerpt from The Dancing Master:

“May I help you with something, Miss Midwinter?” Alec said officiously, hoping to chase the self-satisfied grin from her face.

“Yes, actually.” She clasped her hands. “I’ve come for a dancing lesson. Here—since Lady Amelia would never allow it in the house.”

He licked dry lips and felt his pulse rate quicken. Part of him relished the notion of being alone with Miss Midwinter. Enjoying her company and her undivided attention. Taking her hand in his to lead her through a private dance in a deserted churchyard . . . His chest tightened at the thought.

But he knew all too well the possible consequences of such stolen moments. Such seemingly innocent beginnings.

She took a step forward, and he stepped back. She performing the chassé, and he performing the dance of retreat.

He said, “Miss Midwinter. Before we proceed any further, I must tell you that I have a strict policy against any romantic involvement with my pupils.”

She blinked, momentarily taken aback. “In that case, perhaps I ought to reconsider becoming a pupil of yours.”

“Perhaps you should.”

You can purchase your own copy at: Amazon BN Christianbook.com

JULIE KLASSEN loves all things Jane—Jane Eyre and Jane Austen. A graduate of the University of Illinois, Julie worked in publishing for sixteen years and now writes full time. Three of her books have won the Christy Award for Historical Romance. She has also won Christian Retailing’s BEST Award and has been a finalist in the Romance Writers of America’s RITA Awards. Julie and her husband have two sons and live in St. Paul, Minnesota.

Find Julie at: Her Blog or FaceBook

Originally posted 2014-02-13 10:00:00.

06
May
2025

Shhsh!!! Don’t Tell Anyone

categories: Uncategorized

Vanessa here,

Happy New Year everyone.

We here at Regency Reflections wishes each of you a safe and happy 2014. I’m very proud of my colleagues. We’ve got some exciting Regency books releasing this year. New projects to crow about, but I thought today, I’d let you in on a secret, but don’t tell anyone.

Some of our authors are multi-talented.

Naomi Rawlings has her second book coming out, The Wyoming Heir. Since its by Naomi, their must be memorable kisses: The Wyoming Heir:

Given a choice, Luke Hayes wouldn’t ever leave his Wyoming ranch. Yet when his estranged grandfather dies, leaving him everything, he’ll travel to Valley Falls, New York—but only to collect his sister and his inheritance. He won’t be roped into saving a floundering girls’ school, no matter what mathematics teacher Elizabeth Wells says.

Elizabeth has defied social convention and her own family for the sake of her beloved Hayes Academy. Luke is pure rancher, from the tip of his Stetson to the scuff on his boots, yet he’s also becoming her unlikely ally. Only he can help save her job and school…but how much will she lose when the time comes for him to leave?

For more information about Naomi and her novels, visit her website at www.NaomiRawlings.com.

Now, its not a Regency, so don’t tell anyone you learned about it from me.

Laurie Alice Eakes, has her twenty-first, or hundredth book coming out. She writes so many I’ve lost track. The Professor’s Heart:

Mia Roper has what she always wanted

Her independence, her career and her home back East. But when a train wreck strands her in Hillsdale, Michigan, the town she once called home, Mia begins to wonder if she made the right choice to leave Hillsdale—and her true love—behind.

Rescuing injured passengers, Professor Ayden Goswell can’t believe his eyes. Could that really be Mia, the woman who once owned his heart, emerging from the wreckage? Long ago, Mia and Ayden chose their careers over love. But God, it seems, may have other plans for them….

A wreck, a reluctant heroine, what’s not to love, but since it’s not a Regency don’t tell anyone you heard it from me.It’s available at Amazon, Barnes and Noble or CBD.

Ok, I got those secrets off my chest. I feel better, probably won’t need a mustard plaster. There probably will be more books, non-Regencies that my wonderful friends here will be releasing this year: Kristy, Camy, Ruth, etc. That I won’t be telling anyone about :), but I am so proud of the gaggle of authors here, I just couldn’t help spilling the beans.

PS. Tweeting this is not the same as verbally telling.

Originally posted 2014-01-06 15:07:10.

06
May
2025

Write of Passage: It’s Hard to Disconnect

categories: Podcast - Write of Passage, Politics, Recommended Reading, Syndication, Technology, TV and Film

To step away from my desk, from writing, usually takes intention—an obligation, an appointment, an event.

But this weekend, instead of rushing back to my hotel room to work, I took a walk in the city that never sleeps

New York City is magic. The lights and screens can mesmerize for hours. The hustlers are everywhere, each chasing their own dream with a specific kind of determination. I melted into the crowd—a sea of people, heads tilted down, grimaces in place, walking like they’re late to a very important date.

And yet, as I shuffled forward, I walked with purpose. Certain of my own hustle. Certain that, like the waves of moving feet around me, I’m going somewhere important.

Even though these times feel tense and nerve-wracking, this too shall fade. The question is: Who will you be when revival comes?

I suggest you should be out walking. Walking to your own tune. Strolling between memory lane and adventure street.

We can’t let depression and deadlines keep us trapped on a treadmill to nowhere. We need to be out, moving, seeing the sights, meeting the moment head-on.

Downtown New York. Times Square—it’s still vibrant, still electric with people, places, and possibility. One of the places I wandered off to was Broadway. I scraped up pennies and last minute tickets to take in a Broadway Show. My daughter and I caught Gypsy.

Gypsy—the revival—is based on the memoirs of burlesque star Gypsy Rose Lee. Originally adapted by Arthur Laurents, with music by Jule Styne and lyrics by Stephen Sondheim, the show first hit Broadway in 1959.

Gypsy follows the struggles of a showbiz mother, Rose, and her two daughters: the sweet, spotlighted June and the awkward Louise. Rose devotes her life to making them stars in a vaudeville world that’s fading fast.

Rose is the ultimate dreamer—the pushiest of mothers, hell-bent on creating success in a season that’s disappearing as quickly as a stripper’s costume.

Gypsy—the cast, the costumes—and especially Audra McDonald—blew us away.

Six-time Tony Award winner, now the most-nominated performer in theater history, Audra stepped into the iconic shoes of Momma Rose—a role made legendary by Ethel Merman, Angela Lansbury, Patti LuPone. And she did it with poise, passion, and a voice that reached the heavens.

For the first time, Rose and her daughters are being played by Black women.

And it feels right.

After all, I grew up with a Mama Rose of my own—down South, with big dreams and high expectations. She had color, attitude, ambition, and love. All of that minus the Gypsy Rose stripping.

And in the legendary Majestic Theatre, we, my daughter and I, took in the chandeliers, the molding, the velvet drapery. The lights dimmed. The orchestra began. And we were swept away—into songs we half-remembered, dances we instinctively tapped to, that wonder that fills you when you let the noise fall away and become part of the show.

This was my daughter first show and she loved every moment.

And sadly, if one doesn’t count off-Broadway shows and church basement productions, this viewing was my first too. I loved it but it’s bittersweet to think of the moments I missed because I chose a different, probably work related path.

And yet I refuse to beat myself up on the Shoulda, would’ve could’ves that befall us. I went with my daughter now. That’s what matters. And as we left we hummed:

Together, Wherever We Go

Wherever we go, whatever we do,

We’re gonna go through it together.

We may not go far, but sure as a star,

Wherever we are, we’re stronger together.

I tweak the lyrics. What can I say, but I’m a writer.

Everything’s Coming Up Roses

I had a dream, a wonderful dream about you.

It’s gonna come true.

They think that we’re through, but…

Nothing’s gonna stop us ‘til we’re through!

Everything’s coming up roses for me and for you!

And now, as I sit on this plane, writing to you, my weekly essay, I hope I’ve passed on something else too.

That it’s okay to take a walk.

That it’s okay to step away from duty, from deadlines, from stress—even just for a few minutes.

That rest and joy are worth chasing just as hard as success.

That it’s okay to fail, as long as we keep dreaming.

My hope is that we all learn to capture that feeling—that joy of being lost in the moment. Of humming. Of strumming our fingers to the rhythm of wonder. Of letting the songs in our soul rise again—when we take care of ourselves.

Even if it’s just with a little walk.

Books that can help you disconnect in meaningful ways are:

Fosse by Sam Wasson

A sweeping biography of Bob Fosse that explores the grind, passion, and price of perfection in the performing arts.

The Women Who Raised Me by Victoria Rowell

Memoir of a actress raised by foster mothers—explores nontraditional maternal love, ambition, and support.

All About Love by bell hooks

This book is about love—for yourself , your children, your lives. This book is the emotional underpinning to a loving journey.

Rest Is Resistance: A Manifesto by Tricia Hersey

Talks about rest as a form of liberation, especially for Black women.

Listen to the album, Sing Happy by Audra McDonald and the NewYork Philharmonic

Show notes include a list of the books mentioned in this broadcast. This week, I’m highlighting Bookmarks NC through their website and Bookshop.org

You can find my notes on Substack or on my website, VanessaRiley.com under the podcast link in the About tab.

Let’s keep resting and rising together—please like, subscribe to stay connected to Write of Passage

Thank you for listening. Hopefully, you’ll come again. This is Vanessa Riley.

This is a public episode. If you’d like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit vanessariley.substack.com/subscribe

06
May
2025