On Throwback Thursday I thought I’d post something I started writing some time ago after a trip to Morocco, but for some reason I never finished. It was a beautiful place, and the photos brought back nice memories.
Not far from the Marrakech medina and overlooked by the majestic, snow-capped Atlas Mountains, there is a magical garden combining art with a profusion of beautifully planted trees, bushes and flowers of all kinds.
The garden is laid out with paths meandering through the vegetation and interspersed with astonishing sculptures by various artists, some very well known.
Here’s one by Keith Haring below:
The place has the most unusual vibe: it is at once peaceful, joyful and alive.
The garden is the creation of acclaimed Austrian artist Franz André Heller. Here’s a short bio from the Anima site:
André Heller was born in Vienna in 1947. He’s among the world’s most influential and successful multi-media artists.
His achievements encompass garden artwork, chambers of wonder, prose publications and processions including a revival of circus and vaudeville, selling millions of records as a chansonnier of his own songs, amazing flying and swimming sculptures, the avant-garde amusement park Luna Luna, films, fire spectacles, and labyrinths as well as stage plays and shows that have entertained audiences from Broadway to the Vienna Burgtheater, from India to China, and from South America to Africa.
André Heller lives in Vienna, Marrakesh, and on the road.
There is a lovely café in the garden, named after writer Paul Bowles,and plenty of hidden benches where people sat reading or just soaking in the atmosphere. There are even a couple of colourful striped hammocks where you can lie in the dappled shade.
A very well-dressed gentleman, above.
My absolute favourite was an alley lined with stone columns, each with a carved animal upon it.
Each more charming than the next.
My one caveat is that there are no identifying labels anywhere, so there is no way of knowing who the artist is, unless they are universally recognisable, like Picasso or Rodin.
So if anyone recognises the artist who made these delightful animals, please let me know.
This visit was one of the highlights of a short break in Morocco, and is most highly recommended, should you be somewhere in the vicinity.
Vivienne very kindly hosted me on her blog, Aspholessaria , and I am happy and honoured to return the favour. She writes mostly fantasy, which has not been my cup of tea so far, but I will now give it a try! I have already heavily promoted her to members of my family who are fans. And I have put her Viking books on my TBR list.
Here’s a bit about Vivienne:
V.M. Sang was born and lived her early life in Cheshire in the north west of England. She has always loved books and reading and learned to read before she went to school.
During her teenage years she wrote some poetry, one of which was published in Tecknowledge,the magazine of the University of Manchester Institute of Science and Technology (UMIST). Unfortunately, that is the only one that is still around.
V.M. Sang became a teacher and taught English and Science at her first school.
She did little writing until starting to teach in Croydon, Greater London. Here she started a Dungeons and Dragons club in the school where she was teaching. She decided to write her own scenario. The idea of turning it into a novel formed but she did nothing about it until she took early retirement. Then she began to write The Wolves of Vimar Series.
Walking has always been one of V.M. Sang’s favourite pastimes, having gone on walking holidays in her teens. She met her husband walking with the University Hiking Club, and they still enjoy walking on the South Downs.
V.M.Sang also enjoys a variety of crafts, such as card making, tatting, crochet, knitting etc. She also draws and paints.
V.M.Sang is married with two children, a girl and a boy. Her daughter has three children and she loves to spend time with them.
She now lives in East Sussex with her husband.
⭐️
Unlike me with my one measly novella, Vivienne has been very prolific, and you will find links to her books below, and of course on her website. Here I would like to mention her novella, The Making of a Mage. It’s one of the Wolves of Vimar prequels and tells of the early life of Carthinal, one of the main characters in the series.
Blurb: Carthinal is alone in the world. His parents and grandparents have died. Without money and a place to live, he faces an uncertain future.
After joining a street gang, Carthinal begins a life of crime. Soon after, he sees a performing magician, and decides he wants to learn the art of magic.But can he break away from his past and find the path to his true destiny?
⭐️
And now onto our interview:
1. You have been very prolific. Do you spend many hours writing every day?
Not really. I’ve been rather bad recently and hardly written anything except a few poems. I think it’s because I’ve finished Book 4 of The Wolves of Vimar (Immortal’s Death) and am stuck on another couple of projects.
2. Do you finish one project before starting another, or do you have a few things on the go at once?
I usually have more than one thing on the go. I’ve started Book 3 of my Historical Novel series and I’m also writing a series of short stories inspired by fairy tales. The second story is going through a critique process at the moment and I’m partway through the third one. I’m also writing some poetry as I’ve been asked to submit some for an anthology.
3. Who is your favourite author/book?
Usually the last one I’ve read!
But seriously, I enjoy Fantasy and Science Fiction. I loved the Wheel of Time by Robert Jordan, but there are so many books and excellent writers.
One of my special favourites is Diana Wallace Peach. She writes fantasy in such a beautiful way.
4. If the above is not a classic, what is your favourite classic book?
I think Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte. She builds such a wonderful picture of the moors. Maybe I like it because of that. I used to live not far from that country and walked many times in my teens on those bleak moorland hills. Although they aren’t always bleak! In the heather season they are quite beautiful.
5. When we were children, Enid Blyton kept us up at night (with a torch under the covers) She is much criticised now, but she got many kids to read—as did JK Rowling, who is also criticised. I believe that is so important, above other considerations. Are your books read by children? Or teens and young adults?
I wholeheartedly agree with you about Enid Blyton. I loved her books when I was growing up, and they instilled a love of books in me.
I don’t consciously write for a particular age. My Elemental Worlds has been marketed as Young Adult. Someone said they thought Vengeance of a Slave was YA, but I disagree with that.
My books aren’t read by children. They are too long for a start, and I don’t think the language is children’s language. I don’t simplify words. Most YA books are also shorter than mine.
So no. They aren’t children or YA books.
6. If you have a proper job, what is it?
I used to be a teacher until I retired. Now I enjoy life! (If you get the chance to retire early, do so!)
7. Why do you write?
There are stories in my head trying to get out. I think they’ve always been there. I made a little ‘fairy’ out of grass and told my sister tales about her, and I told myself stories at night to help get to sleep. (What does this say about my stories if they put me to sleep?)
I wrote a very bad romance when I was in my teens, and read it to my long-suffering friends. They were very kind about it.
So I think I write to get these stories out of my head.
8. Why do you write fantasy?
When I was a student, I was doing teaching practice when a nine year old boy, with the wonderful name of Fred Spittal, asked me if I’d read Lord of the Rings. I hadn’t, and he recommended it, but said I should read The Hobbit first. I found both in the College Library and from there I was hooked. I read a lot of the fantasy that was around at the time and loved the way the authors built worlds out of their imagination. It’s still one of my favourite parts of writing fantasy.
9. From your About page, I know you love dogs. Do you have any pets at this time?
I don’t have any pets at this time, no. I didn’t think it was fair to have a dog while I was working as it would have to be left alone all day. Not good for a dog, which is a pack animal and needs company. After retirement we were going away a lot, so didn’t have any pets.
Growing up I had two dogs (not at the same time) a border collie, whom I called Laddie, and a corgi called Johnnie. I also had a budgerigar called Peter who was an amazing talker.
My stepfather was a farmer on the Cheshire/North Wales border and so there were plenty of animals around. There were the farm dogs, of course, and I had a cat called Frances who would sit on my shoulder. She was lovely.
Later, well after I’d married and had children, we had goldfish and three cats, although my husband doesn’t like cats!
10. If you could meet any three people, alive or dead, who would they be and why?
I would love to meet Leonardo da Vinci. Such a clever man–an artist, an engineer, a scientist, a medical researcher and more. We visited his chateau in Amboise, France and saw his inventions brought to life using only tools and materials from his day. Quite amazing.
You say three people. Someone I had (along with Leonardo) a picture of on the wall of my lab in school was Stephen Hawking. He was incredible. Not only did he have an amazing brain, but to do all he did with such a severe disability as Motor Neurone Disease, was incredible. His determination must have been second to none.
Finally, no, not a writer, but an artist. Any of the Impressionists, I think, but having visited his famous garden, I think I’d go with Monet.
11. Do you enjoy sport? Do you prefer to watch or take part?
Yes, I do enjoy sport. I used to play tennis, badminton and the occasional squash game, and when my daughter was at school and my son was small, I used to attend a session at the local sports centre aimed at mothers. They had a creche for the kids and we did some aerobics then volleyball, badminton or basketball.
Now, I don’t partake, but enjoy watching most sports (not golf though).
12. There is a photo of a lovely flower painting on your site. Do you still paint a lot? Who is your favourite artist?
I think I’ve answered the second part of your question alreaedy. I adore the Impressionists. I don’t think I really have a favourite amongst them, though.
As to the first part, I’ve not done so much recently. I have one partly finished, but it’s in oils and I don’t like to do it indoors as it creates a smell. I’m waiting for the warmer weather so I can finish it!
13. Do you do any voluntary work? If so, what?
I don’t do any voluntary work at the moment. I did work in the small park behind our house until recently. The park had become very overgrown, the council only cutting the grass. I contacted them and they looked it up. They told me it was supposed to be a ‘community project’. It seems the original volunteers had either died, moved away or grown too old, so several of us took it over. It looked nice for a few years, then the same thing happened. People moved away, and became too old. There was only myself and my husband doing it, and we’re getting older and finding it increasingly difficult, especially the heavier jobs. We do very little now, except for the occasional cutting back of overgrown brambles that are blocking the paths.
14. What do you think is the biggest problem facing the world today?
I think there are two. One is increasing selfishness and the other is stupidity.
From the person wanting to park their car as near as possible to their destination, regardless of inconvenience to others, to governments and large organisations who trample roughshod over anyone and everyone who gets in their way. Often stopping them getting what they want, up to and including taking over other people’s countries in order to get at the minerals etc that are there.
And threatening the whole future of humanity in not accepting scientifically proven things like Climate Change. And it’s not only governments who are becoming stupid, either. Individuals seem to have lost the ability to think for themselves.
Sigh…
Thank you so much for answering all my nosy questions, Vivienne. I’m sure my readers will enjoy discovering your books—those that don’t know them already, that is. Fantasy is very much the flavour of the day!
⭐️
For those interested, I am including links to Vivienne’s books below:
While tidying up my bookcase, I came upon some book recommendations which make for pleasant reading. A comfortable sofa, a mug of tea or chocolate, a good book and the rain falling outside…Or perhaps, depending on your location, a lounger on a beach and a large straw hat to shade your page…
For cooling off on the aforementioned beach, what better than a tale set in the frozen wastes of Antarctica?
Terra Nova, by Henriette Lazarides, is the haunting story of two explorers seeking to reach the South Pole and the woman who loves them both. Set in 1910, it is a tale of love and betrayal. The two men are friends who have set themselves an impossible task of endurance and privation. Back in London, Viola, wife of one and lover of the other, is a photo journalist and suffragette. In both settings, secrets multiply and grow toxic. I have been interested by polar exploration since reading the marvelous The Worst Journey in the World, and this fictional tale hits all the right keys.
A crumbling English manor house by the sea and the three children who grow up there. A dead whale washes up on the beach. A family saga par excellence, it decribes what unfolds in the wings as the children grow, and while the war increasingly gets centre stage. Engrossing.
I was initially put off by the subject matter of this book, which tells the tale of nine working class boys from the American West, and their quest to win the gold medal for rowing in Hitler’s 1936 Berlin Olympics. I thought a whole book about rowing would bore me, but a friend was so insistent that I caved. All I can say is that it kept my interest to the very end—the story is so well told, the characters all have depth and empathy, the technical descriptions are, dare I say it, poetic, the races full of suspense and the whole is set within the larger stage of the Depression, the looming war, and the rising of Hitler’s power in Europe. A story of grit and courage against terrible odds—and which is soon to be a film produced by George Clooney. The trailer looked interesting and—as an added bonus when reading the book—on YouTube one can find the original, black-and-white, films of the race (mostly by the notorious Leni Riefenstahl).
Another family saga, alternating between India and England in 1911 —and the same places in the present day. It is the story of Anahita Chavan, from a noble but impoverished family, and her lifelong friendship with the headstrong Princess Indira, the privileged daughter of Indian royalty. The relationships between them and with the men they love have repercussions down the years; culminating in a love story between Anahita’s grandson and a young American film star on a film set in England.
Set in the eccentric backwater of Karakarook (pop. 1,374), New South Wales, this is the story of Douglas Cheeseman, a shy and clumsy engineer with jug-ears who meets Harley Savage, a woman who is known for being rather large and abrupt. A cheerful and humorous tale.
Last but not least, non-fiction. A study of 18th century women artists, this book examines the careers and working lives of celebrated artists like Angelica Kauffman and Elisabeth Vigée Le Brun but also of those who are now forgotten. As well as assessing the work itself – from history and genre painting to portraits – it considers artists’ studios, the functioning of the print market, how art was sold, the role of patrons and the flourishing world of the lady amateur.
I found this book fascinating. The details of these women’s lives are beautifully described, and the constraints imposed upon them would seem intolerable to women artists now. The book also has beautiful reproductions of many paintings—however, it is out of print and can only be read as an e-book (of top quality, I must say), unless it can be found in a second-hand shop.
What luck to get away for few days in Venice after Christmas—and more good luck with the weather. Bright sunshine, then misty mornings rendering the city mysterious. The whole previous week there was constant rain, and there are no cars in Venice—walking along under a dripping umbrella would have lessened the pleasure somewhat.
View from the hotel, which was on Giudecca island
As it is, navigating the city centre is a matter of crossing a bridge over a canal, or hopping on a vaporetto (better than going underground to board a train.) The city rests on 126 islands and 150 canals—connected by 472 bridges—and was built by driving more than 10 million wooden piles made of the trunks of alder trees into the clay bottom of the Venetian Lagoon.
The city was the capital of the Republic of Venice for almost a millennium, from 810 to 1797. It was a major financial and maritime power during the Middle Ages and the Renaissance.
We saw multiple Virgin and child scenes, this is a lovely one by Bellini.
Venice is an overflowing cornucopia of treasures. Of course one can’t see everything in a few days, but the senses are so overwhelmed by beauty that absorbing the details of the landscape, the architecture, and of course, the art, is feast enough.
The Renaissance was a wonderful period for art, and Venice contains a lot of it. It would be impossible to list everything we saw, so I will just treat you to some highlights. Prominent amongst those were the paintings in the Galleria di belle Arti. It was difficult to know where to look first.
Sebastiano Luciani, detto Sebastiano del Piombo, 1485-1547
We stayed gazing at these historic organ shutters for a long time. They are huge, and the detail is astounding: the light, the shadows, the drapery and clothes. An interesting detail is that the Church of San Bartolomeo where they were placed was frequented by a large community of German merchants, and the figure on the right is Saint Sebaldus, patron of Nuremberg. I suggest you zoom in on the photos to see the details better.
Sometimes it was the details that fascinated me the most. Look at the clothes below:
A child peering behind his elders
In crowds, every face is different, with its own distinct personality. Below is a fascinating Pietà, again by Bellini. Look at the background landscape—also it is rare that the Virgin looks aged.
Giovanni Bellini, Pietà, circa 1505
Another highlight was the Scuola Grande di San Rocco, an ornate museum built as the seat of a lay confraternity of wealthy merchants focused on philanthropy, which houses a simply stunning collection of over 60 works by Tintoretto.
The Sala Capitolare, with its painted ceiling surrounded by gild mouldings.
This enormous room was overwhelming in its beauty and detail. Mirrors were provided so that you could see details of the paintings without getting a crick in the neck.
A detail of the ceiling
In the adjacent room the far wall was taken up by a huge painting of the Crucifixion.
A whole story is told within this painting. I think we counted 19 or 20 horses, besides the people.
The walls of the Sala Capitolare between the paintings are panelled in walnut and adorned with a series of striking allegorical walnut sculptures made by Francesco Pianta between 1657 and 1676
Even the small dining room was impressive. Look at the frieze of fruit and vegetables above the entrance.
We visited this museum twice, there was so much to see.
On another note, some whimsical frescoes by Giandomenico Tiepolo adorn the walls of Ca’ Rezzonico, another museum in a beautiful building by the Grand Canal.
Isn’t he fun and gorgeous?
And a lovely statue on a church wall.
It is interesting to think that Venetians could see this art displayed everywhere, in their daily life. It was on the walls of the churches, the offices, the city halls, the houses. Now it is all in museums, and nothing equivalent has replaced it in our lives.
The Piazza San Marco
As for me, I honestly don’t know whether I should be inspired, or pack up my brushes and paints! Hopefully the former.
Here’s wishing you all a happy, healthy and prosperous new year. And hoping for Peace on Earth, although it doesn’t seem very likely at the moment…But one must remain positive.
I seem to be in a poetic mood lately, so here’s a seasonal one by Robert Frost.
A Christmas circular letter by Robert Frost.
The city had withdrawn into itself And left at last the country to the country; When between whirls of snow not come to lie And whirls of foliage not yet laid, there drove A stranger to our yard, who looked the city, Yet did in country fashion in that there He sat and waited till he drew us out, A-buttoning coats, to ask him who he was. He proved to be the city come again To look for something it had left behind And could not do without and keep its Christmas. He asked if I would sell my Christmas trees; My woods—the young fir balsams like a place Where houses all are churches and have spires. I hadn't thought of them as Christmas trees. I doubt if I was tempted for a moment To sell them off their feet to go in cars And leave the slope behind the house all bare, Where the sun shines now no warmer than the moon. I'd hate to have them know it if I was. Yet more I'd hate to hold my trees, except As others hold theirs or refuse for them, Beyond the time of profitable growth— The trial by market everything must come to. I dallied so much with the thought of selling. Then whether from mistaken courtesy And fear of seeming short of speech, or whether From hope of hearing good of what was mine, I said, "There aren't enough to be worth while."
"I could soon tell how many they would cut, You let me look them over."
"You could look. But don't expect I'm going to let you have them." Pasture they spring in, some in clumps too close That lop each other of boughs, but not a few Quite solitary and having equal boughs All round and round. The latter he nodded "Yes" to, Or paused to say beneath some lovelier one, With a buyer's moderation, "That would do." I thought so too, but wasn't there to say so. We climbed the pasture on the south, crossed over, And came down on the north.
He said, "A thousand."
"A thousand Christmas trees!—at what apiece?"
He felt some need of softening that to me: "A thousand trees would come to thirty dollars."
Then I was certain I had never meant To let him have them. Never show surprise! But thirty dollars seemed so small beside The extent of pasture I should strip, three cents (For that was all they figured out apiece)— Three cents so small beside the dollar friends I should be writing to within the hour Would pay in cities for good trees like those, Regular vestry-trees whole Sunday Schools Could hang enough on to pick off enough.
A thousand Christmas trees I didn't know I had! Worth three cents more to give away than sell, As may be shown by a simple calculation. Too bad I couldn't lay one in a letter. I can't help wishing I could send you one, In wishing you herewith a Merry Christmas.
🎄And a very Merry Christmas from me too, to you all.
As the year draws to a close, I though I’d make a short list of the best books I read this year—the books I personally liked best, because obviously opinions differ. I was inspired by Jacqui Wine’s Journal—I’ve followed her for years, because our tastes coincide, and I’ve had many wonderful recommendations from her over time. If you haven’t come across her Blog, I urge you to take a look, especially if you are a fan of solid storytelling and excellent writing. She also often revisits old favourites, as well as books in translation.
Since I do like variety in my reading, my list is quite eclectic. Here are the ten I savoured most, not in any particular order.
Wild Thing, by Suzanne Prideau, a truly exceptional life of Paul Gaugin, which I reviewed a little while ago Here
Days at the Morisaki Bookshop and More Days At the Morisaki Bookshop, to coincide with my trip to Japan. Life in Tokyo through the eyes of a young woman. Amusing and different (and a cool cover!). Buy it: Here
Human Matter, by Rodrigo Rey Rosa, a well-known Guatemalan writer. A semi-autobiographical dive into the realities of a dictatorial regime, seen through its bureaucracy. Engrossing if harrowing. Here
The Forbidden Notebook, by Alba de Cespedes. One of Jacquie’s suggestions, about the daily life of an Italian housewife in the 50s. Fascinating. Here
Stone Yard Devotional, by Charlotte Moore. One of the Booker Prize shortlist for 2024. Very original and atmospheric. I got caught up in a very absorbing story. Here
The Game of Hearts, by Felicity Day. Part of my research into the Regency era. The stories of real women of that time—often, truth is stranger than fiction. Or more amusing. Here
Longbourn, by Jo Baker. Pride and Prejudice from behind the mirror: the daily life of the Bennet household as seen through the eyes of their servants. Here
Horse, a novel, by Geraldine Brooks. A great story told over two time lines, based on the real champion thoroughbred Lexington. With added enjoyment for people who love horses. Here
The Safekeep, by Yale Van Der Wooten. Another book shortlisted for the Booker Prize, this is an original story of the developing relationship between two very different women staying in the same house in the Dutch countryside during the summer of 1961. It is well plotted and in turns mysterious and unnerving. Here
The Golden Child. I love Penelope Fitzgerald and this was one that, most surprisingly, I had not read. Like an immersion in a warm bubble bath. Did not disappoint. Here
Add to those a couple of thrillers, some Regencies (good and not so good), and a handful of crime novels (I especially enjoy those of Vaseem Khan, set in India with a most interesting policewoman heroine.) I’ve also been reading books by people whose blogs I’ve been following for years and who have been most supportive of my own book. They’ve been on my TBR list for a while, but—so many books, so little time, as I keep repeating.
Well, I do hope some of the above will appeal to you. Happy reading! (Or perhaps you’ve e read them all?)
Talk about leaving something behind! Tom Stoppard, who has just died, aged 88, wrote—over the course of five decades—35 stage plays (including seven translations or adaptations of foreign work), 11 radio plays, 6 television plays, and 14 film and television adaptations of books and plays. An opus which will keep his memory fresh for years to come.
I am not about to write an obituary complete with all his life details. Every newspaper has done that, and writer, journalist and magazine editor Tina Brown, who knew him personally since she was a teenager (he lived close to them and was friends with her father) has posted a lovely eulogy on Substack.
Stoppard wrote great theatre because he wrote great dialogue, witty and argumentative. In his own words, ‘Writing plays is the only respectable way of contradicting oneself.’
Here is a description of him, from an obituary in the Guardian:
A tall and strikingly handsome man, with a long, bloodhound face, a thick tangle of hair and a casually assembled wardrobe of expensive suits, coats and very long scarves, Stoppard cut an exotic, dandyish figure, a valiant and incorrigible smoker who moved easily in the highest social and academic circles, a golden boy eliding into middle-aged distinction and never losing the thick, deliberate accent of his origins, even though he never spoke Czech. He carved out his career in his own always carefully chosen words. He was often thought to be “too clever by half,” but never patronised audiences by talking down to them, even if they had to work hard to keep up.
Stoppard lived a charmed life in England, something he was always grateful for, considering a large part of his family died in the camps. This part of his personal history he only got to research in later years.
In my case, I credit Stoppard for instilling in me an eternal love of the theatre. Not living in England, I sadly did not manage to see all his plays, but I made it a point to see as many as I could, and they remain vivid in my memory. The wit, the irony, the sarcasm, the erudition and, above all, the sheer enjoyment.
Rozencrantz And Guidenstern Are Dead, The Real Inspector Hound, Arcadia, India Ink…The list goes on. Wonderful actors, such as Bill Nighy and the incomparable Felicity Kendall, fantastic sets. A great director, for a lot of them, in the shape of Peter Wood.
He’s always been number one in my list of people to invite to an imaginary dinner party. May you rest in peace, Mr Stoppard, and thank you.
Things are moving fast all at once. After months of idleness, publication date for my debut novel, Marguerite, has been set for December 4. Very exciting!
While waiting for the publishers to reveal their complete marketing plan, I have been am busy setting up my side of things. I think I mentioned before that I joined the Author’s Guild of America, which was a shrewd move. They provide free tools to build a website (they can also build it for you if you like). They organised my domain name and an email in my pen name. They embedded the email sign-up form into the website. And the best—you communicate with a REAL PERSON (shoutout to Hector!) No bots, and no endless search for some elusive ‘Happiness Engineer’. Yay.
As for the rest, why must everything be so complicated? I was assured by Kindlepreneur (a very useful source of all kinds of information) that the best mailing service for authors is MailerLite, as well as being the easiest to set up. Well, either I’m a moron, or the other services need a degree in advanced coding. I have been struggling with the damn thing for days—despite a bot who is better than most, and even some help from a real live person. But it’s done, more or less. Finally, I’m pretty familiar with IG, via my art account, but I hate X, Facebook etc. I think I’ll pass. I’m too old to make little videos on TikTok.
Take a look at the cover and tell me what you think. I’m quite pleased with it. I was very clear about NO bare-chested duke clutching a swooning maiden.
It was difficult for the graphic artist to find a stock photo I liked, so I came upon the idea to use an old painting (in the public domain). This is an oil portrait by Swiss artist Jacques-Laurent Agasse (1767 – 1849), possibly of Mademoiselle Cazenove. Then I wanted to superimpose a profile of the duke watching Marguerite ride in the park. The graphic artist did a good job of my ideas, I think.
Finally, a bout of shameless self-promotion:
I am delighted to present my debut novel, Marguerite. Set in the elitist and socially restricted milieu of the ton in Regency London, it is the story of an independent, opinionated girl and the man who pursues her despite her refusing his offer of marriage.
If this sounds like your cup of tea, I would be grateful if you would consider preordering the book. Preorders help new authors get discovered, and your support is invaluable.
Once you’ve read the book (if you manage to finish and if you haven’t hated it!), I would love it if you would consider leaving a review. Even a sentence helps other readers find the book, and I am interested in every piece of feedback.
I’d also like to invite you to take a look at my website, Marina Montrose Author, where subscribers to the Reader’s Club receive a free, exclusive short story as a thank you gift. You can join here:
P.S. The book is available for preorder on Amazon, but print copies only on Amazon.com still…Here is a link to all the other places where you can preorder. Or order later on.
Letters from Athens 