Hussies' Historical Hideaway

Since my latest Undone, The Unrepentant Rake, is out this month, it's positively de rigueur for me to blog about it here. (And anyone who comments has a chance to win a free download. Just letting you know up front.)

My unofficial title for this story is The Romance of the Toe Bone, because a holy relic, the toe bone of St. Davnet, is instrumental in bringing about the happy ending. (It was my muse's idea, and I do what she tells me.) St. Davnet was an Irish saint of the 6th or 7th Century, and little is known about her. She is a patron saint of the mentally ill and women in danger, and (according to one site I can't find anymore) family harmony as well. What is more important to family harmony than true love, I asked myself, and a story was born. In spite of my muse's enthusiasm, I didn't think my editor would accept this story, even though she asked for revisions and didn't complain that the toe bone was too weird. I sent in the revised version and put the story out of my mind.

Shortly afterward, I went to Ireland for the first time and spent a day in Dublin. I visited the National Museum of Ireland, which has a superb collection of prehistoric gold items, Celtic metalwork, Viking artifacts, jewelry, and so on...including an ornamental pilgrim's staff said to have belonged to St. Davnet. I oohed and aahed about all the amazing stuff there. I wanted to stay forever, but nature got in the way and we had to go eat.

I guess when I put the story out of my mind, I put the staff out, too. A few days later, when I was well out of reach of Dublin with no chance of returning, my editor accepted the story. Of course, that's when I remembered the staff. I'd totally forgotten to look for it in the museum!

Duh! I'm going back to Ireland, and this time I won't forget.

Anyway, to give you a better idea what the story is about (lest you think it's littered with toe bones and such), it's the sequel to The Wanton Governess, which came out last year. The brother of the hero was an annoying rake who insisted on having his own story. My muse relented, but she pitted him against a governess with plans of her own and a holy relic. Guess who won?

Beatrix March chose to be a governess rather than let an overbearing husband rule her. Even though she never intends to marry, it doesn't mean she can't enjoy a man's...company -- especially one as tempting as notorious rake Simon Carling.

 

Little does she know that this rake is in the mood to wed...and when Simon wants something, he will go to outrageous lengths to get it! 

 
Comments welcome! Don't forget -- I have a download to give away. :)