fuonlyknew

An inheritance lost. A betrothal threatened. A scandal brewing…

Outspoken Quaker Bathsheba Honeychurch knows how difficult it is for an unmarried woman to successfully champion political change. Her solution? Wed best friend Ash Griffin as soon as he comes of age and begin remaking the world. But when Ash’s urbane, aloof cousin arrives with inconceivable news, Sheba’s future dreams are suddenly at risk…

The death of the Earl of Silliman reveals an appalling lie: it is not Noel Griffin, but his long-lost cousin Ash, who is the true heir to their grandfather’s title. Raised to place family above all, Noel accepts his grandmother’s bitter charge: find Ash, disentangle him from his religious community, and train him to take on the responsibilities and privileges of a title that Noel had been raised to believe was his. Noel certainly won’t allow a presumptuous, irritating Quakeress to thwart him in doing his duty—no matter how fascinating he finds her…

When scandal threatens both their reputations, can Sheba and Noel look beyond past dreams and imagine a new world—together?

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Author Guest Post

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True Lovers’ Knots: The Quaker Love Letter

Caption: A True Love Knot. ca. 1840. Philadelphia Free Library. https://libwww.freelibrary.org/digital/item/6700]

This knot of love which I do send

Is, like love, without an end.

Its turns and crosses many you see

So hath your love, dear, challenged me.

Yet thoughts by day and dreams by night

Rest still on you, my heart’s delight.

Mountains shall melt, the seas run dry

The stars run lawless through the sky,

The sun at midnight shall appear,

Ere I prove false to you, my dear.

Turning arms, exchanges kisses

Each partaking others’ blisses

Laughing, weeping, still together

Bliss in one is Mirth in either.

Never breaking, ever bending,

This is love and worth commending.

Still beginning, never ending,

This is love and worth commending.

From Not Quite a Marriage

Have you heard of a true lovers’ knot? Not the rope kind, but the romance kind? Several English folk ballads about lovers parted by death—“Barbara Allen,” “Lord Thomas and Fair Annet,” “Fair Margaret and Sweet William”—end with the image of a rose growing from one lover’s grave, a briar from the other’s. The briar and the rose meet and twine about each other, echoing the shape of a rope knot that has long been known as the true lover’s knot or true love knot. In such ballads, the knot formed by the briar and the rose symbolizes the faith and fidelity of the lovers, even after death. You can listen to an American version of “Fair Margaret and Sweet William” by Appalachian folksinger Jean Ritchie here.

Caption: From C. S. Hall’s The Book of British ballads (1842)]

But a far less tragic version of the true lover’s knot also exists: the love knot as love letter or valentine in the form of a labyrinth. During the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries, paper true love knots became popular amongst some Pennsylvania Quakers, not as symbols of romantic fidelity after death, but as actual romantic declarations to a living beloved. A parallel form to the fraktur, or illuminated folk art, common amongst the Pennsylvania Dutch in the same period, the Quaker true love knot includes handwritten romantic verses that twist and turn inside the outline of an endless knot. You can start reading the text at any point and the love declaration still makes sense. But you have to rotate the paper to read the poem in its entirety.

Some Quakers created true love knots to declare their affection to a beloved; others offered them as artistic proposals of marriage.

Caption: True Lover’s Knot by Hugh Pugh, sent to Mary Fisher, 1801. True Lover’s Knot blog by Meg Schultz]

Here is one example by Quaker schoolmaster Hugh Pugh, created in 1801 for one of his pupils.

Handcrafted using quill, brush, and compass, its poetic declarations of devotion wind through various geometric shapes. Since Friend Pugh was 54, and his student Mary Fisher only 20, his proposal seems not to have been accepted, although Mary kept the beautiful love knot her teacher designed. It is now owned by her great-great-great granddaughter, Meg Schultz.

Extant examples of true love knots are quite rare. The one pictured at the top of the page, as well as the one below, are both from the Philadelphia Free Library, one of the few collections that includes several original nineteenth-century true love knots.

Caption: “To Miss Harriet Walker, as a Token of Remembrance.” Ca. 1840. Philadelphia Free Library.]

When I drafted the verses for the true love knot that my book’s protagonist, Noel Griffin, creates for Quaker Bathsheba Honeychurch, I borrowed lines from several real true love knots of the times, so that they would sound historically accurate. Unfortunately, I’m not of an artistic bent, so I haven’t made a physical replica of Noel’s valentine. But I enjoy imagining what it might look like while I admire these and other examples of True Love Knots from the past.

You can find more examples of true love knots on my Pinterest page for Not Quite a Scandal. https://www.pinterest.com/blissbennet/not-quite-a-scandal/

Buy Link: https://blissbennet.com/p_nqas_b2r]

Bliss Bennet writes smart, edgy novels for readers who love history as much as they love romance. Bliss’s Regency-set historical romances have been praised as “savvy, sensual, and engrossing” by USA Today, “catnip for the Historical Romance reader” by Bookworlder, “romantic, funny, touching, and extremely well-researched” by All About Romance, and “everything you want in a great historical romance” by The Reading Wench. Bliss’s latest book is Not Quite a Scandal, the second book in The Audacious Ladies of Audley series.

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Before Sheba could offer an objection, Noel set himself in front of her. “Shall we try a simpler dance? A waltz, perhaps, M. de Brunhoff?”

A look of relief passed over the poor dancing master’s face. “As you wish, monsieur.”

The restlessness Noel had felt all afternoon, being in Sheba’s company but not the focus of her attention, settled as soon as he guided her hands up to rest against his shoulders. Unlike the more demure society misses with whom he typically danced, she kept her head held high, eyes not shying away from his. But the pink tint of her cheeks blazed nearly scarlet when he set his hands not on her elbows, as she was obviously expecting, but more daringly against her waist. That elusive scent of honeysuckle enticed his nose, and he could almost swear he felt the pulse of her blood coursing beneath his fingers, even with the weight of her silk gown and stays and his gloves between them.

“March, march, march, march, then messieurs, pirouette, mesdames, pas de bourée, pas de bourée, pas de bourée. Up, up, up on the toes, oui, oui…”

A satisfaction bone-deep settled over him at finally having Bathsheba Honeychurch in his arms. At being able to allow his eyes to roam without embarrassment or restraint over the sweep of her pert brows, the stretch of her lush mouth, the expanse of her graceful neck below that tip-tilted chin, confident and defiant in turn. He’d never had much sympathy for Goethe’s self-indulgent Werther, but the romantic hero’s assertion that “a maiden whom I loved, or for whom I felt the slightest attachment, never, never, never should waltz with any one else but with me” struck him as painfully apt.

He twirled her carefully, silently, unwilling to allow meaningless small-talk to distract him from a pleasure he feared he’d never stop craving.

She, too, remained quiet as the slow notes of the waltz enveloped them in a bubble of awareness, her blue eyes roving his face as his roved hers. She blinked, and blinked again, as if she could not quite understand what she was seeing.

Might she be beginning to recognize, even if she could not quite yet allow herself to believe, that the man standing opposite her might be more vital to her happiness than the one dancing on the other side of the room?

Yes, this was how he would win her. Not by wooing her with words, but by allowing her to see the truth of what he felt.

“Ah, yes, my lady, with what elegance you dance!” M de Brunhoff cried as Ash and Delphie twirled past him. “Now, let us vary the posture, eh? Messieurs, place your right arm fully about your partner’s waist, et mesdames, rest your hand and arm on your partner’s shoulder.”

Noel swallowed, then laced his arm behind Sheba’s waist. Although he kept her at a decorous distance, the heat of her warmed his entire side. And when her hand crept up his shoulder, her corseted breast mere inches from his chest, that warmth turned molten.

He felt, as well as heard, Sheba’s breath catch in her throat as his fingers tightened against her side.

The beat of the music, the tap of their slippers against the polished floor, the hum of pleasure he could not quite keep contained—Noel spun, and spun, dizzy with the turning, near giddy with longing.

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Bliss Bennet writes smart, edgy novels for readers who love history as much as they love romance. Despite being born and bred in New England, Bliss has always been fascinated by the history of that country across the pond, particularly the politically-volatile period known as the English Regency. Though she’s visited Britain several times, Bliss continues to make her home in the States, along with her spouse and an ever-multiplying collection of historical reference books.

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Nothing is as it seems, however. The gentlemen, turned raiders, squirrel behind enemy lines. Brayden uncovers lies and intrigue on both sides but as he and his fellow raiders execute their audacious plan, as they torch the layers of the conspiracy, Brayden finds love hidden among the ashes.

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The Inn at Little Bend

The Way Home Saga Book 2

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A DAZZLING BEAUTY…
In antebellum America, life for an abandoned woman was difficult at best. But when young Grayson escapes her sadistic guardian, she finds freedom just as hostile. The lonesome, starving wanderer flees straight into the path of vicious marauders. Only one thing keeps the rustlers from violating the curvaceous, dark-haired beauty but the punishment they intend to mete out for her crimes borders on insanity.

A SURLY COWBOY…
Not far away a lone rover hears the screams, yet continues down the road. He wants nothing more of life than to be left alone. He has his own debts to account for. Once a headstrong irresistible rakehell, the drifter had bolted, shuttered his heart and retreated deep within himself. But now the wafting agony tears at him–his own and the wails of another. Swearing under his breath, he whirls the horse around.

A SIMPLE INN…
Grayson Ridge struggles to survive her fated trials and conceal the secrets that plague her. Her exploits collide with the life of Drake Somerset, a scraggly yet oddly dashing drifter besieged by dark shadows. Neither realizes their chance encounter could free them both. Their wrangling ignites a turbulent journey and sets their worlds on fire.

2012 First Place in the Published Beacon Awards (Historical Category)

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.Season of the Shadow

The Way Home Saga Book 1

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It was a time of chivalry and grace but also a time of turmoil in antebellum America. Fletcher Stedman is the crown prince of Virginia’s famous Seabrook Plantation. The handsome rakehell is a man of dreams with headstrong passions and an ingenious mind. Suddenly his dreams are shattered and his life ripped from him by a jealous cousin, and Fletcher is put to the test fighting for his life and his sanity.Kyndee Brock always dreams of marrying her handsome Fletcher–her kindred spirit and dearest love. One day, however, Fletcher mysteriously disappears. Kyndee must spend the next decade defying fate, following her heart to reunite them and recapture the love that they had been denied.

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How to find time to write as a parent.

I can’t say I have a set schedule for writing. I have a set schedule for riding and that is truly where the ideas flow. There’s something about the rocking of my horse’s gait that takes me back to another time and another place.  Once the inspiration hits and the characters become real in my head, I can write for hours or days.

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Do your characters seem to hijack the story or do you feel like you have the reins of the story?

When I say my characters become real people, I really mean it.  They wake me up at night.  I can see them sitting across the room, and they blab until I ask them to kindly disappear so I can get some sleep.  When they refuse, I sneak into my studio and, like a court reporter, record everything they are saying.  I must admit most times they are heading me in the right direction.

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What kind of research do you do before you begin writing a book?

Since the mid 1800’s is the timeframe for all my romances, many years ago my mother and I took the dog and travelled to the states where the scenes happened. We visited county seats and perused old newspapers, walked historical areas and graveyards. Of course, with the internet today, all that traveling and reading can be accomplished with the slash of a keystroke (although not half as much fun). Sometimes I can’t achieve the feel of some scenes from the internet though.  For example, I had a fire scene to write and I visited the local fire marshall. Once I had convinced him that I was not an arsonist and really did write romance (and he and the other firemen stopped laughing), we had a great discussion of how the fire scene could be accomplished with accuracy.  As I left, I heard him telling the other firemen I was definitely going to be dinner conversation with his wife that night.  I just smiled.

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What is your writing process?  For instance do you do an outline first?  Do you do the chapters first?

Every writer has their own unique writing process. I search the public domain and find pictures of what my hero and heroine look like in my head.  Then I frame their faces and place the frames on my desk as I write.  When I am in the hero’s head, I stare at the heroine’s face and vice versa. For me this helps the dialogue flow naturally. I write down a general idea of how the plot will move forward from beginning to end, but I must say I do not rigidly adhere to an outline, not do I write the chapters consecutively.  The reason for this is because once my characters come alive in my head, scenes have a tendency to change.  For example, as I wrote my first romance, Season of the Shadow, I knew exactly what would happen when the hero entered the barn.  However, when he arrived I was shocked at how the hero and heroine had rearranged the scene.  I liked what they had done and  wrote the scene their way.  Hearing about this 3am occurrence, my husband often taps my shoulder while I write and asks, “Anybody talking to you yet?”

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Advice you would give new authors.

Storylines can spring from anywhere…a song on the radio, a conversation at a dinner party, or the view from a ski lift chair.  Best advice I could give is…just write.  Write for yourself.  Write for the sheer joy of creating something from nothing.  Remember, as the writer, you are omnipotent and that’s a powerful feeling.  When you are feeling sad, use that emotion to write sad scenes.  Do the same with happiness.  Those emotions will flow into your words and make scenes truly believable.  Write the ideas that pop into your head.  Don’t worry about the grammar or the spelling or searching for just the right word.  All those things will come later.  Don’t allow any of those things to stop the flow of ideas because, at least for me, if I don’t scribble the ideas I lose them and many times they don’t come back.  Then I’m left saying, “What was that thought I had? Geez…and it was such a good idea.”  Keep pencil and paper by your bed for those magical ‘ah hah’ moments when your characters come alive and tell you how they want their story written.  In the car or on my horse I simply use my voice recorder.  Just scribble whenever the ideas flow and, before long, those ramblings will take shape.

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Fun Facts/Behind the Scenes/Did You Know?

Before pen to paper…Inside The Grey…This novel was composed entirely on horseback.  The ideas flowed, and I bounced portions of the plot with my fellow riders as we galloped through the fields.  Jumping fences dressed in our finery to keep up with thirty hounds on the scent, transported us back in time. When I returned to present day, I simply wrote about my day in the past.

Before pen to paper…The Inn At Little Bend…Within one year I lost three people I loved dearly, and I retreated to my studio.  It seemed only there could I make sense of things and force the capricious fates to bend to my will.  Drake and Grayson are struggling with their own losses, searching for the realization that they, too, can survive the anguish.

Before pen to paper… Season of The Shadow…I was recovering from a serious neck and head injury when these characters came to life.  I have since learned to compensate but the injury severely affected my inner ear and my balance for years.  Fletcher’s affliction intrudes on his life as it did mine.  Other parts of the storyline are based on actual happenings in my life as are the surroundings.  My grandmother’s home (since demolished) had been built by a bootlegger with hidden compartments, peepholes, and tunnels leading to the river.  The home’s uniqueness was our parents’ nightmare but a child’s delight.

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What can we expect from you in the future?

A new story is on the computer with the working title, ‘TruDeceit.’ The blurb is on my website.

www.Bobbiscorner.com   Readers will recognize several previous characters entering and exiting as the time frame has progressed twenty years into the late 1860’s.  The beginning chapter has been written, and I know the general plotline. However I am still searching for images to frame so my new hero (Rafe) and new heroine (yet to be named) can develop into real people.   Once that happens, the three of us will be off and running.

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I’m a wife, a mother, a writer and an equestrienne. I’ve been composing stories as long as I can remember and have been putting stories to paper ever since I could hold a pencil. I have a vivid memory from age five where I sat alone in the stall of my father’s horse and traced the hood prints in the dirt. An entire story swirled about in my head…who, what, where, when? My family often grew weary of my constant ramblings about my characters. As a result, my drawers were stuffed with stories, finished and unfinished. It wasn’t until my two wonderful boys were born that I finally had the nerve to submit my first book. Fun In The Yellow Pages, a juvenile coming of age novel, was my first publication. It was well received and actually utilized in several school districts. I even had the compliment of being ‘visiting author’ which was very enjoyable. The students constantly asked me to write a sequel.

I actually switched to romance writing on a dare from my husband. I completed Season Of The Shadow. The characters were so popular that they wormed their way into my second romance, The Inn At Little Bend, and played key roles in my latest romance, Inside The Grey. Each romance can stand alone, but my readers will recognize several characters.

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