I’ve been tagged by author, Erika Robuck, whose novel Hemingway’s Girl will be out this September  with NAL (same imprint as The Sister Queens).   To play the game, she instructed me to do the following:

1. Go to the 77th page of my latest book (or wip – author’s choice).

2. Count down 7 lines.

3. Copy the 7 sentences that follow, and post them as a teaser.

4. Tag 7 other authors.

In this scene from The Sister Queens, Eleanor of Provence’s brother-in-law, the Earl Richard, returns to the English royal court furious over the secret marriage of his sister to Simon de Montfort.  The Earl confronts King Henry III during court festivities, interrupting Eleanor and Henry while they are dancing.   Without further ado, here are seven sentences (or thereabouts) from the 77th page of The Sister Queens:

Her welfare?  If that is all that worries you, be done.  Lady Montfort is quite abundantly happy with her situation.”  For the first time Henry looks in my direction.  “Is that not so Eleanor?  Our sister writes to the Queen glowingly of her new husband.”

“This is not a fanciful troubadour’s romance!  It is a royal marriage!  It ought not to be managed by women.”

My Uncle, silent himself, gives me a meaningful look, warning me to hold my tongue.

Now, I’ll tag 7  brilliant authors to give us teasers of their own:

1. Kate Quinn

2. Nancy Bilyeau

3. Elizabeth Loupas

4. Erin Cashman

5. Mindy McGinnis

6. Stephanie Dray

7. Lydia Netzer

Visit their websites in the next few days to get a peek into their latest work and discover who they’ll tag in turn.  Nothing like a little game to start the weekend.

And to think, only this weekend my son asked me who invented the zipper. I am quite certain this is not this historically correct answer but it is funny as heck.

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“Stone was all my old dad ever needed. . .”

Don’t we all feel like this sometimes?  I mean when my laptop was last in the shop for a couple of days I felt a certain nostalgia for the selectric typewriter that sat on my mother’s desk when I was growing up.

 

Forget the Sharks and the Jets, the Roundheads and the Royalists are ready to rumble.

 

Everybody mispronounces a word or uses a malapropism now and again (well, not again in this scenario).  Lighten up people.

Oh, and have a marvelous Labor Day weekend!

 

Here is a touch of historical humor as we head into the weekend.  Those of us on the east coast in particular could use a little levity as Irene bears down on us with all her predicted damage and inconvenience.  So have a laugh or two before the power goes out.  I do believe Jane Austen herself would get a chuckle out of this one.

“If I did that there’d be nothing but a bunch of necks working at the DMV” — truer words than that have never been spoke

So, we are getting my son a puppy.  My son is the shy type and likes constant companionship so a dog seems like a perfect fit.  A boy and his dog. . .you know the stories (not Where the Red Fern Grows or stories like that—the HAPPY stories).

I phoned my sister to tell her the news.

“This is going to be his dog right?” she asked.  I sensed a certain skepticism.  Perhaps she didn’t think he could handle a dog at nine-years of age.

“Oh yes, we’ve talked about the responsibilities,” I babbled.  “He helped select the breed and we picked an ultimate people dog, a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel.”

“You’re missing my point,” she replied somewhat impatiently.  “How are you going to keep the dog from bonding with YOU?  You are such an Alpha.  You had better line up a trainer before the puppy even arrives.”

Wow. ‘A trainer for who?’ I was tempted to ask.  My son, the puppy, or me?  But the question would have been facetious.  As soon as the words were out of her mouth and bouncing off the satellite to my mobile phone I knew exactly what my sister meant, and was left wondering why I didn’t see it before.  I am a very “in charge” person.  Dogs are attracted to dominant people. . If this dog is really going to be my son’s dog we will need some advice on how to get it to bond with my son and see him as the pack leader.

No.  I am not going to continue blogging about dogs.  I am going to blog about sisters.  Because what this story really illustrates (you were wondering, admit it) is one of the driving themes behind my novel, The Sister Queens—our sisters act as mirrors for us; when we forget who we are or when we fool ourselves into thinking we are something we are not, they call us on it. Continue reading »