The New Bon Ton Magazine, 1818

Crime and punishment during the Victorian period was very different compared to today. We have put together facts for teaching KS2 children this topic.

Petty criminals in London went to compters. Sometimes called counters, compters were small prisons for minor transgressors including religious dissenters, dru

For what were regarded as the most heinous crimes the penalty was death, in some cases, this was commuted to transportation. Prison was another option, in the case of some women, the ‘shrew’s fiddl…

Title: Crime and Punishment Under Islamic Law Author/Editor: Barmoody, George M., (Transl. & Commentary) Publisher: Regency Press Date: 1979 Format: Hardcover Condition: Acceptable Condition Description: Dust jacket missing. Cover and binding are worn but intact. A reading copy in fair condition. Minor fading and stain on the boards. Stain on the top edge. Hinge is loose. Binding is exposed. Secure packaging for safe delivery.

Last month it was robber gangs, this month it’s more crime and punishment. But I was doing research on punishments for peers for my just finished WIP, and what I found was rather fascinating. With the exceptions of treason and murder, peers could not be prosecuted for crimes. John Palmer, in his 1830 work entitled, “The Practice in the House of Lords, on appeals, writs of error and claims of peerage,” affirms that, with some exceptions, that peers and their widows and peeresses in their own right, are “protected from Arrest, in all Civil Suits, either in the first instance or after judgement…Nor are they liable to be attached for non-payment of money, though they are not exempt from attachment for not obeying the processes of the Court.” Apparently there was a process that allowed for someone to sue a peer for their debts, but it had to be done at the King’s Bench or before the King’s Justices in Westminister. The caveat was, the peer in question had to be present in the court. And although you could, theoretically, get a court summons to compel the peer to appear, practically it just wouldn’t happen. After 1547 if peers or peeresses were convicted of a misdemeanor crime, such as non-payment of a debt, they could claim “privilege of peerage,” if they had no prior convictions and escape punishment. This privilege was invoked five times, and finally abolished in 1841. Peers could, however, be prosecuted and convicted of the crimes of treason and murder. The most famous murder trial of a peer may have been that of Laurence Shirley, 4th Earl Ferrers, tried and convicted of murder of his land-steward during an argument. Ferrers went to the gallows at Tyburn on May 5, 1760, the last peer to die so. Other punishments, even more severe, could be meted out to peers. If a noble was found guilty of treason or murder, he would be served with a bill of attainder, an act of legislature that declared the peer guilty of his crime and affixing him with the verdict of “corruption of blood,” a metaphorical stain on the peer, whereby he would lose not only his life, but his property and titles, for it stripped him of the right to pass them on to his family or heirs. They instead reverted to the crown, rendering the titles extinct. The peerage may have had its privileges, however, no one was completely free from the long arm of the law. References: “Earl Ferrers.” Capital Punishments, U.K. n.d. Lee, Emery. “A Peer’s Privilege.” Georgian Junkie, November 28, 2010. Milan, Courtney. “Crime and Punishment.”

Looking at crime in Elizabethan England and the brutal punishments offenders received. Thieves and Pickpockets The crowded nave

Murder by Poison!! The Trial at large of E. W. for the wilful murder of R. Sparkes, etc (1815) The 49 year old farmer's widow, mother to eight children, owe

For what were regarded as the most heinous crimes the penalty was death, in some cases, this was commuted to transportation. Prison was another option, in the case of some women, the ‘shrew’s fiddl…

A lot of the Regency Reader Questions I receive are related to etiquette and how ought a young lady to behave in a variety of circumstances. I found this arti

For serious criminal and civil matters, the courts of assize or assizes as they were known were held in country towns. Visiting judges from higher London cour

I recently received a question from a reader who had seen something in another book about a young child being hanged for a crime, and the person wondered if such was true. Unfortunately, such was t…

The defeat of Napoleon and his exile to Elba unleashed a pent-up demand for Regency era travel to the Continent. Charlotte, Lady Williams-Wynn (1754 – 1830) planned a tour through France and …

Passionately blogging about all things Regency

The street watchman was a familiar character to the inhabitants of Georgian cities and towns. Their job was to literally keep an eye on their designated section of roadway, as a defence against the common perils of crime and fire. In addition, they had the job of calling out the time and describing

Many readers think historical romances are all the same. They are not. True, they are set in the past, true they all have a (mostly) happy ending, but stories and styles vary enormously. I have just finished writing a sparkling Regency romp for Harlequin, which will be published next year, but my September publication, Pursued for the Viscount's Vengeance, weaves far more serious matters in amongst the romance. This book required research into some of the Regency's darker secrets, such as the use of laudanum. Opium mixed with a little alcohol was widely used to provide pain relief in a time when there was nothing else. It was even given to teething children. Laudanum was highly addictive and amongst the "opium eaters" of the day were the poet Coleridge and even the reformer, William Wilberforce (the extent of the Regency's opium addiction was exposed in Thomas de Quincy's, "Confessions of an Opium Eater "). There was also a continuous fight by the Bank of England against counterfeit money. The practice of coining is well known, coins of the realm had their edges clipped off and the clippings were melted down to make new coins. What is less well known is the trade in counterfeit notes. This was particularly prevalent during the time this book is set, because bad harvests and the ongoing war had reduced the stocks of gold bullion in England to low levels and the Bank of England issued vast quantities of poorly designed one and two pound notes that were easy to copy. Clever forgeries of bank notes were produced and circulated via the use of "utterers", poor women who would use the notes to buy relatively cheap goods and receive good coin in change. The victims were usually amongst the poorer sections of society such as innkeepers, small shopkeepers and market stallholders, many of them poorly educated and unlikely to spot a forgery. Naomi Clifford tells the sad but fascinating story of , Sarah Bailey, who from the reports could justly be labelled a "feisty" woman. She was caught passing forged notes and was eventually hanged for her crimes, but only after giving the authorities a run for their money! You can read her story here - http://www.naomiclifford.com/sarah-bailey/ And you might ask, why not call the book the Viscount's Vendetta? To me, "vendetta" conjures up the turbulent, violent times of the Borgias and Medicis, but when I checked more closely I found it originally related to blood feuds amongst families from Sicily and Corsica, and it was not used in England until the mid 19th century. I therefore decided it would be safer not to use the word for a book set in 1817. The main characters are complex and damaged. Deborah Meltham thinks herself too disfigured for any man to want her and she has given up all thoughts of marriage and devoted her life to looking after her beloved but dissolute brother. Gil, Viscount Gilmorton, is grieving for the loss of his loved ones and carrying a heavy burden of guilt because he was not there to protect them. When Gil and Deb's paths cross, there is an instant attraction, but once the truth is known, there are surely far too many obstacles to a happy ending. Aren't there? Well, of course not! In the best traditions of Harlequin Historical romance Deb and Gil have to struggle against the odds to be true to each other and themselves and hope you will agree with me that, in the end, they deserve their happiness. Happy Reading! Sarah Mallory / Melinda Hammond Pursued for the Viscount's Vengeance is published mid August 2017 in North America and the UK by Harlequin / Mills & Boon

Popular pastimes, being a selection of picturesque representations of the customs & amusements of Great Britain, in ancient and modern times (1816).

I discovered an interesting fact last week, one that I should probably have known about before now. In Regency England, if you were assaulted, robbed, or otherwise the victim of a criminal act, you had to pursue prosecution yourself and pay for all the fees and costs of such prosecution. There were no public police to bring charges, and so the responsibility lay with the injured. To deal with the costs incurred with such prosecution, there were set up voluntary societies or clubs, where an annual or monthly fee payment ensured reimbursement of expenses. Such a group was the Society for Prosecuting Felons: The above advertisement was published in the Commercial Directory for 1818-20. But the Society had been around for quite some time. Below is another advertisement for the Society from the Reading Mercury - Monday 27 April 1801: Often the societies paid rewards for information and assistance as well as covering legal and other expenses as the advertisement below from the Morning Advertiser - Monday 29 June 1807 indicates: And this notice below from the Public Ledger and Daily Advertiser - Wednesday 08 January 1817 Monthly meetings were held to discuss the various business aspects, noted below from the Oracle and the Daily Advertiser - Tuesday 18 February 1806 : As these groups had grown out of parish council support for prosecution fees, it was logical that they continued to have parish connections. Rastrick Society © Calderdale MBC Any worthwhile society had of course to have its annual dinners and annual meetings: from Sun (London) - Monday 06 June 1803 from Sussex Advertiser - Monday 01 February 1819 The Regency era was over before full responsibility for prosecution of criminals--and proper defense of the accused--lay with the government and employees hired for the job, including police forces. Until then the societies for prosecution were useful tools for those who had been injured and/or wronged. 'Til next time, Lesley-Anne

The Regency population viewed crime differently than we do today. London newspapers didn’t report robberies or burglaries, just the occasional “lost” item.

When a leading magistrate called Patrick Colquhoun wrote an analysis of crime in the metropolis in 1797, of 115,000 citizens listed as being engaged in various crimes, there were allegedly 50,000 “Unfortunate Females of all descriptions, who support themselves chiefly or wholly by prostitution.” This is a staggering statistic, and to my mind demonstrates two things: how limited were opportunities of employment for women, and the heavy price women paid for giving way to what we now regard as a natural inclination. In other words, sex. There’s nothing new about men paying for sex. They always have, they still do and they probably always will. What’s new - and the change has been visible in my lifetime - is that women are no longer pilloried for having indulged their sexual appetites. For our 18th century sisters, this was certainly not the case. Prostitutes could be committed to Bridewell, a “house of correction” where they would be set to beating hemp as a job - after being stripped to the waist, tied to a whipping post and publicly flogged. However, it wasn’t a popular punishment, because everyone shouted to the president of the Court of Governors to “knock, knock” with his gavel, which signalled the end of the whipping. It seems harsh to us, until we remember how brutal the 18th Century was. Punishments worse than this were commonplace, and I expect your average prostitute would sooner be flogged than hanged. What is particularly mean about it is that many women only became ladies of the night after they had been seduced by an unscrupulous man, and had no choice. Without marriage, they were disgraced and their families either had to chuck them out or be tarred with the same brush. Innocent girls were often also seduced into prostitution not by men, but by members of their own sex. Youthful virgins were highly valuable to a brothel bawd, and these women would pick up country girls coming to London to find work. Ladies genuinely in search of maidservants would meet the arriving wagonload of girls, but among them were the procuresses, cajoling the prettiest with flattering promises of employment and riches. Hogarth’s series of prints “A Harlot’s Progress” were designed to point up the tragedy, taking Moll Hackabout from innocence to procurement, through a career as a successful and fashionable courtesan, until her keeper gets bored and throws her out. At this point she is reduced to common prostitution, followed inevitably by imprisonment in Bridewell, then penury, disease and death at 23. Apparently this was not an uncommon path for a young girl to tread. There was one route out of the mire and that was marriage. Get a ring on your finger and respectability could wipe out the past. A surprising number of harlots made it into the aristocracy, and a couple of generations down the line, it no longer mattered and was likely a talking point of pride. Any girl might get away with a fall from grace, provided she didn’t get pregnant and both she and the guilty male in the case kept their mouths shut. Contraception was so unreliable, however, that unwanted pregnancies were rife. The first task was to try and get the seducer to marry the girl. Failing that, concealment was not impossible, if relatives had the sense to get her abroad for the duration. It would be given out that she needed to go away for her health, and travel took so long that several months out of the country would cause no remark. The child would be put out for adoption into God knows what kind of life, and the girl would return with reputation intact. Naturally, her nearest and dearest would be at pains to get her married as soon as possible, and any husband discovering he’d been sold a pig in a poke was unlikely to make a song and dance about it because of the potential scandal. Separation and divorce were so difficult to achieve that he was likely better off keeping quiet about it. And he was probably well paid too! One other way was to give the disgraced woman a married name and settle her in an unsuspecting village somewhere as a widow. She might live poorly, but at least she would live respectably and be saved from a life of prostitution.

Specifically England, because the process was different in Scotland. Recently I’ve been researching trials for crimes in the mid eighteenth century, and oh my, how different they were! We wouldn’t recognize the legal system then. From a system dominated by the Waltham Black Acts (the ones that said you could be hanged for almost any offence) to the way criminals were caught and prosecuted, it was all very different. For trials, first of all prosecutions had to be brought by somebody. The state did prosecute some crimes, most notably treason. Not petty treason, though, which was killing a spouse. There had to be an accuser and an accused, and in most cases the Crown didn’t stand in for that. I’m still coming to grips with what all that meant. If this was your first offence, you could claim Benefit of Clergy. That meant if you could read a passage from the Bible, then you were let off. It was meant to encourage literacy and education. The trouble was, they used the same passage every time. And there were no centralised records. So if you were taken in a different passage, or you gave a different name, you could get away with it as long as you didn’t come in front of the same magistrate and he happened to remember you. There was no police force, no civilian law enforcing organisation. There were thief-takers, but they were often corrupt, and took money from both sides. The populace were against setting up a police force. In short, it was a vote-loser, and it wasn’t until the 1790’s that England had any kind of police force; the Thames River Police, a privately funded organisation in its early years. The great reforms instituted by Sir Robert Peel in the 1830’s included the establishment of a civilian police force, so all through the Georgian period, there was exactly nobody to keep the peace. So that meant there was nobody, barring the parish constable and the magistrate to enforce the law. The parish constable, the night watchmen and the beadle did what they could, and if anyone was taken, imprisoned and brought to trial, there were officials for that. The magistrates were generally drawn from the gentry, but the Lord Lieutenant of the county was usually an aristocrat. County and Country were at loggerheads for much of the century, providing checks and balances, but once the population began to move to the city, and Britain slowly became an urban country instead of a rural one, that had to change. I’ve read over fifty accounts of murder trials in the Old Bailey records (that’s where I’ve set the trial in my story). You can read them online, and I do. They’re real slice of life accounts, freezing moments in time. That’s probably why they are so popular. One thing they have in common; they pass with dizzying speed. A man could kill his wife, be tried and executed in the space of a month. No waiting months for a trial, prepping for it, or having time to consider. It was done and dusted.

A quick overview of common law, civil law, privilege of peers, barristers and lawyers in the Regency Era.

The Regency newspapers were overflowing with police reports, and the difference ( to our eyes) between the paltry nature of the crime and the severity of the sentence never loses its power to shock…

From 1674 to 1913, The Central Criminal Court of England (popularly known as the Old Bailey for the road adjacent) was the major case court for most of England

Regency Era poisons were important to Regency people and because of their great interest in them, a lengthy article was published in 1828. It provided all

I'm delighted to welcome Amy D'Orazio, author of The Best Part of Love, for a look at Rebellion and Radicalism in Regency England! ---oOo--- Hear me! Ye oppressors! ye who live sumptuously every day! Ye, for whom the sun seems to shine and the seasons change, ye, for whom all human and brute creatures toil, fighting, but in vain, for the crumbs, which fall from your overcharged tables. . . . Your horrid tyranny, your infanticide is at an end. . . . the new creation, at the breaking of the iron rod of aristocratic sway, and at the rising of the everlasting sun of righteousness. — Thomas Spence, Rights of Infants, 1797 “Parliament is filled with the dissolute and the reprehensible. Our regent is a disgrace, and his behaviour makes us all a mockery. There are people dying in the streets of London, starving, desperate for a crumb of bread while he wastes fortune upon fortune.” — The Best Part of Love Regency England is an undeniable source of fascination for many of us in modern times. What else would explain the enduring popularity and abundance of books, movies, and television shows based on that time? It was an era of romance, a time of elegance in dress and manners where beautiful ladies were courted by fine gentlemen in cities like London and Bath or in country estates. What none of us likes to consider is that if we lived in that era, it is more likely that we would have been part of the 95% of people who were not part of the world of the landed gentry. For that group of people, the era was not so romantic. The landed gentry and titled nobility of England but this was a minor proportion of the overall population — less than 5%. However, although they were small in number, they were absolute in their control of the socioeconomic aspects of the country. Not only were they the lawmakers and enforcers, but they also controlled the economy. Servants and tenant farmers depended on them for wages and land, and many a tradesman was sunk by a gentleman who did not or could not pay his bills or did not pay them in a timely fashion. It would be easy to see why those within the lower classes were discontent with their lots in life, particularly as it was difficult for people to substantially improve their station. Many people in the lower classes had neither the time nor ability to educate themselves and, though some could elevate themselves, most were consumed by mere survival. The average person, born into poverty, would remain there until they died. Such circumstances as these are ripe for rebellion. In my book, The Best Part of Love, there is a group of radicals which is based loosely on the followers of a man named Thomas Spence. Born at the end of the 18th century, Spence believed in the common ownership of the land. He believed England should do away with the aristocracy and the landlords, and instead distribute equal parcels to every man, woman and child for their existence. He also believed the national government should have limited authority and limited resources. Although he had radical ideas, Spence wasn’t a violent person and did most of his work through the printing of various pamphlets and books designed to spread his ideas. It didn’t, however, keep him from being arrested and imprisoned several times and it was in prison that he died in 1814. In the later years of his life, he had attracted a band of followers, and in the years after his death, these followers began to meet in various locations around London where they discussed Spence’s ideas and began to make plans for a revolution of sorts. One of their first attempts at large-scale rebellion — in what some believe to be a test-run of sorts — was the Spa Field Riot of 1816. Two assemblies were held at Spa Fields, the first a peaceful gathering in which two men were elected to carry a petition to the Prince Regent, asking for relief from economic distress and parliamentary reform. The second gathering was less peaceful. The petition and the men who carried it were denied the interest of the Prince Regent, and once the populace was assembled, the Spencean Philanthropists took charge, encouraging unrest and dissent and eventually a movement on the Tower of London with the intent to seize control of the government. The effort failed as many of the assembled ran away, and the four leaders of the rebellion (Arthur Thistlewood, James Watson, Thomas Preston and John Hoppe) were arrested and, eventually, tried for high treason. They were acquitted on the basis that the only person who was able to attest to the fullness of their plans was a spy with a criminal record. Arthur Thistlewood was jailed later, from 1818-9 for challenging Viscount Sidmouth to a duel. Following his release, Arthur Thistlewood was quick to resume his radical activities. Again meeting with his former friends, they planned a mass execution of the entire cabinet of Parliament along with Lord Liverpool, the Prime Minister at that time. In 1820, a dinner was planned at the home of Lord Harrowby on Grosvenor Street and, according to another of the conspirators, the plan was that Thistlewood would enter the dining room bearing a pair of pistols, a cutlass and a knife. He intended to behead every man therein and carry away the heads of Lord Castlereagh and Lord Sidmouth to display on Westminster Bridge. Fortunately for those men, the Spencean Philanthropists were discovered before they were successful. They had been, by this time, infiltrated by several men who acted as spies, and it was these governmental agents who arranged for a police presence at the site of the would-be massacre. The main conspirators were apprehended and although some were sentenced to transportation, Arthur Thistlewood, Richard Tidd, James Ings, William Davidson and John Brunt were sentenced to death. They were hanged on 1 May 1820. Parssinen, TM. Journal of the History of Ideas, Vol. 34, No. 1 (Jan. - Mar., 1973), pp. 135-141.Alan Smith, "Arthur Thistlewood: A 'Regency Republican'." History Today 3 (1953): 846-52Wilkinson, George Theodore An authentic history of the Cato-Street Conspiracy. Thomas Kelly, London, c.1820 6 Jan My Jane Austen Book Club; Guest Post, Excerpt, Giveaway 7 Jan Just Jane 1813; Review 8 Jan Babblings of a Bookworm; Vignette, Giveaway 9 Jan Every Savage Can Dance; Guest Post, Excerpt, Giveaway 10 Jan Tomorrow is Another Day; Review 11 Jan Savvy Verse & Wit; Character Interview, Giveaway 12 Jan Half Agony, Half Hope; Review 13 Jan Austenesque Reviews; Vignette, Giveaway 14 Jan Darcyholic Diversions; Author Interview, Giveaway 15 Jan Delighted Reader; Review 16 Jan From Pemberley to Milton; Review 17 Jan A Covent Garden Gilflurt’s Guide to Life; Guest Post 18 Jan Obsessed with Mr. Darcy; Review 19 Jan My Kids Led Me Back to Pride & Prejudice; Vignette, Giveaway 20 Jan Diary of an Eccentric; Review 21 Jan More Agreeably Engaged; Vignette, Giveaway The Best Part of Love Avoiding the truth does not change the truth When Fitzwilliam Darcy meets Miss Elizabeth Bennet he has no idea that she — that indeed, the entire town of Meryton — harbors a secret. Miss Elizabeth, a simply country girl from a humble estate, manages to capture first his fascination and then his heart without him ever knowing the truth of her past. When she meets Darcy, Elizabeth had spent the two years prior hiding from the men who killed her beloved first husband. Feeling herself destroyed by love, Elizabeth has no intention of loving again, certainly not with the haughty man who could do nothing but offend her in Hertfordshire. In London, Elizabeth surprises herself by finding in Darcy a friend; even greater is her surprise to find herself gradually coming to love him and even accepting an offer of marriage from him. Newly married, they are just beginning to settle into their happily ever after when a condemned man on his way to the gallows divulges a shattering truth, a secret that contradicts everything Elizabeth thought she knew about the tragic circumstances of her first marriage. Against the advice of everyone who loves her, including Darcy, Elizabeth begins to ask questions. But will what they learn destroy them both? Buy the book here! Author Bio: Amy D’Orazio is a former breast cancer researcher and current stay at home mom who is addicted to Austen and Starbucks in about equal measures. While she adores Mr. Darcy, she is married to Mr. Bingley and their Pemberley is in Pittsburgh PA. She has two daughters who are devoted to sports which require long practices and began writing her own stories as a way to pass the time she spent sitting in the lobbies of various gyms and studios. She is a firm believer that all stories should have long looks, stolen kisses and happily ever afters. Like her favorite heroine, she dearly loves a laugh and considers herself an excellent walker. Website Goodreads Author Page Facebook: Amy D’Orazio Twitter Instagram: amydorazio Pinterest

It wasn’t just beer that was adulterated in the Regency-the list is long and depressing, starting with bread and beer( and all alcoholic drinks) , flour and tea, and extending to coffee and tea, to…

Fighting a Smuggling Gang It’s often said that there is nothing new under the sun, and this story from the Stamford Mercury for April 16th, 1772, certainly bears this out. It makes it quite c…

This autumn, we're investigating the Arthur's Seat coffins and their link to the crimes of William Burke and William Hare. The National Museum of Scotland is not the only Edinburgh institution with a connection to the murderous pair. In this guest post, David McLeod explores their story through objects preserved in the Surgeons' Hall Museums collection. … Continued

Regency-era smuggling conjures images of darkness, moonless nights hiding the illicit acts of Free-Traders loading and unloading casks of brandy washed up on English shores by the tide, or hauling contraband like laces, silks, and tea through secret, underground tunnels. While smuggling was best achieved at night, perhaps, it wasn't always carried on as a nocturnal activity. At least, not for the Warne family of Burley, Hampshire, England.* Around the turn of the nineteenth century, Peter Warne and his unnamed wife had three children, Peter, John, and Lovey (Loveday). All three were baptized Christmas Day, 1796, at Ringwood Parish Church, when Lovey was probably six or seven years old, because in the 1851 census, her age was listed as 62. The Warnes were innkeepers, but also made ends meet by smuggling. Many folks at the time did, and people of all classes engaged in the buying or selling of smuggled goods. Since the 1671 Customs Act placed duties on goods from alcohol to lace, fruit to tea, British subjects found many items too expensive to enjoy unless they were obtained illegally. Not only were the prices less on smuggled goods, but smuggling paid well: a man could earn 10 shillings for helping land smuggled goods onto the shore--a few hours' work that paid more than a farm hand's average weekly wage of 8 shillings. The story goes that in the Regency-era years, Warne sons Peter and John would haul wagons of contraband along the chalk Smuggler's Road in broad daylight. Their sister Lovey helped them in a unique way. If a Revenue Agent happened to be making rounds on the days when they went about their illegal business (in 1803, the fellow's name was Abraham Pike), Lovey would don a red cloak and climb Vereley Hill to stand as a human signal, warning them to take another path. View towards Vereley Hill from Smugglers' Road, Vales Moor, New Forest © Copyright Jim Champion and licensed for reuse under this Creative Commons Licence. Lovey didn't just participate by standing on a hill. She also smuggled goods directly off ships in Christchurch Harbor by wrapping silks around her body, under her cloak. According to one story, she was almost caught once, when an unsuspecting revenue agent liked the looks of her and tried to embrace her. She let him know in no uncertain terms she was not interested and made her getaway. The legend of Lovey has lived these past two centuries, and now there's even an ale named after her. But what happened to the real Lovey Warne? Lovey never married, but lived with Peter, a maltster, until his death in 1870. She died in 1873, leaving six pounds in her will. She was buried in the Church of St. John the Baptist in Burley, one of the first parishioners to be buried there. Apparently, she wished for her beloved pony to be buried with her, but officials did not grant her request and her pony was buried near a ring of fir trees outside the church yard. * The story of Lovey Warne is related in books by O'Donald Mays, Burley historian Felicite Hardcastle in her 1950 publication, Records of Burley, and "Heritage in Dorset and the New Forest" by Roger Gutteridge. *** Lovey Warne's red cloak inspired a very unfortunate fashion choice for the heroine of my new release, The Reluctant Guardian (LIH). I'll be giving away a copy to one person who comments and leaves a way to contact him/her in the comment before 11:59 pm PST February 7, 2017. Visit my website for an additional giveaway! Under the Spy's Protection When Gemma Lyfeld inadvertently interrupts a dangerous smuggling operation in her English village, she's rescued by a mysterious Scottish spy. Now with criminals after her and her hopes for an expected marriage proposal recently dashed, she will make her society debut in London. But not without the man tasked with protecting her… Covert government agent Tavin Knox must keep Gemma safe from the criminals who think she can identify them—a mission he never wanted. But as he escorts her and her rascally nephews around London, the lovely English lass proves braver than he ever imagined. Suddenly, the spy who works alone has one Season to become the family man he never dreamed he'd be. Susanne Dietze began writing love stories in high school, casting her friends in the starring roles. Today, she's the award-winning author of a dozen new and upcoming historical romances. A pastor's wife and mom of two, she loves fancy-schmancy tea parties, the beach, and curling up on the couch with a costume drama and a plate of nachos. You can visit her on her website, www.susannedietze.com, and sign up for her newsletter for an occasional cheery hello: http://eepurl.com/bieza5

Many of you may have watched the TV series, Game of Thrones, in which Cersei Lannister was required to perform the naked walk of shame through the streets to repent for her sins. This and similar p…

I always get excited when Julianne stops by for a visit! Her new book Chime and Punishment was released last week! FOR THE LOVE OF CLOCKS by Julianne Holmes