November 16, 2014

What subgenres are there in historical fiction?

Historical fiction writers do a lot of research and there are a lot of subgenres in the field also. I thought we would take a look at some of them...

Subgenres of historical fiction include:
~alternative history

So all you historical authors out there leave a comment on what subgenre you write and tell us something about it....

November 15, 2014

"Historical Fiction Awards"

Here are the Awards for 2012. Congratulations to you all!

How many writers write historical fiction? Well I wanted to share all the different awards for historical writers. I found there are prestigious awards out there that authors should submit their novels to.

Here are the awards:

So, all you historical authors start submitting your work......

November 14, 2014


Married at Midnight


The Earl of Pennington needs a bride in order to inherit a fortune. The woman he chooses needs to escape a dreadful situation. Can this union work?
When the Earl of Pennington discovers the inheritance from his great-uncle depends on him marrying at midnight on the eve of his thirtieth birthday, he is irate. Marriage is not part of his plan to save his impoverished estates. He crosses paths unexpectedly with the beautiful Roxanne Chesney, who is fleeing from her abusive husband. He offers her a contract: marriage for six months to help him fulfill the conditions of his great-uncle’s will, enabling him secure his inheritance. In return he will pay her a small fortune. Can Roxanne resist this offer? What about the revolting Edgar Doyle who forced her into a loveless marriage that has not been consummated? Roxanne has escaped Edgar’s clutches, but she wonders how long she will manage to evade him. The Earl’s contract has no strings attached. The offer is irresistible except for the fact that Roxanne is already married!
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Edgar sat next to her, his face at a slight angle so that anyone observing them could not see his expression.
"What do you want?" she murmured though stiff lips.
Edgar snorted. “Want? I want what’s due to me, that’s what I want."
Roxanne avoided looking directly at him. She knew his hypnotic stare would wear her down again. She watched the happy throng of guests twirling around the room, laughing and enjoying themselves. A terrible sense of suffocation began to overwhelm her. Fighting to retain her self-control, Roxanne unfurled her fan and waved it in front of her face. The regular movement helped calm her and provided a flimsy shield against Edgar’s dreadful gaze.
"I have no money, if that’s what you’re looking for," she said with calm hauteur.
Another derisive snort. "D’ye expect me to believe that? What with you engaged to the wealthy young Earl of Pennington?"
"He is not wealthy."
Edgar sniggered as he leered at her in triumph. He lifted her hand and pressed his mouth on the inside of her wrist. Roxanne squirmed at the feel of those loose wet lips against her skin. She snatched her hand from his grasp.
"Not yet, me darlin’, not yet. I hear he’ll be inheriting soon, once he’s married. Something about an old uncle or aunt?"
"His great-uncle Oswald," Roxanne said, without thinking.
Edgar’s reaction made her wish she’d bitten her tongue instead.
"So you do know there’s money coming then?"
Roxanne tossed her head, affecting nonchalance. "The whole of London knows he had a wealthy old relative. His great-uncle wanted to see him married."
Edgar leaned closer. The smell of stale sweat mixed with cheap cologne wafted towards her. She wrinkled her nose. Julian always smelled so clean, so masculine.
He sat back, an angry look in his eyes.
"Don’t put on airs and graces with me. You were grateful enough to have me, weren’t you? When you thought you’d be all alone in the world. Pity you didn’t stay long enough to let me show you what you’ve been missing."
Roxanne felt as if she could explode with rage as she turned to face him. "Let me explain something to you, Mr. Doyle."
Her voice was low and hard, without a shred of fear. Her eyes blazed an intense green. Anger had burned away all her previous terrors. Edgar recoiled in his seat just a fraction. It was enough to tell Roxanne that he was taken aback by her sudden courage.
"I despise you in every possible way. I knew from the start you were not my father’s cousin. You are a fraud. You intimidated my father into thinking marriage with you would protect me in society. Then you forced me into marrying you and tried to rape me. But I won’t have it, Edgar Doyle, I won’t stand for it."
Edgar narrowed his eyes. His lips pinched in anger.
"Now you look here, my girl," he blustered.
"No, you look here," Roxanne retorted. "How dare you think you can bully me in the Duke of Silverton’s house? Who do you think you are?"
She waved a hand at the crowd of guests. "This is the cream of London society. You are nothing but a fraud, a poseur and a charlatan."
Edgar curled his lip as he grasped her wrist, squeezing hard.
"Don’t forget something, me darlin’. You and me—we’re married. So if you get hitched to your high and mighty Earl of Pennington, won’t he get a nasty shock when it comes out his new bride is already wed."
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