CONGRATULATIONS TO WINNERS!
Thank you to all who entered. Anne and Carol please fill in the Winner's Acceptance Form or email me at mesreads AT gmail.com to confirm the win and I'll send
Georgette Heyer, the “Queen of Regency Romance,” is one of the most beloved authors of all time, and Sourcebooks couldn’t be more thrilled to be her North American publishing home: all 52 of her delightful novels are back in print!Over the years we have come to find that fans of Heyer’s work all have “Heyer moments”—stories about how they discovered her, which novel is their favorite, how they used to sneak and read their mother’s copies, and so on.We LOVE hearing these stories from fans, and what better time to sing the praises of one of our favorite authors then on the anniversary of her 110th birthday!In light of the anniversary, Sourcebooks wants to ask readers: “How did YOU discover Georgette Heyer?”
I will pick one winner from the comments who will receive a surprise grab-bag prize pack of 3 different Heyer novels: 1 Romance, 1 Mystery, 1 Historical Fiction (1 winner per blog, US and Canada addresses only)
Devil's Cub | False Colours | Faro's Daughter | The Foundling | Frederica | Friday's Child |
Excerpt from Chapter One: A Lady in DistressIt had begun to rain an hour ago, a fine driving mist with the sky grey above. The gentleman riding beside the chaise surveyed the clouds placidly. "Faith, it"s a wonderful climate," he remarked of no one in particular.
The grizzled serving man who rode some paces to the rear spurred up to him. "Best put up for the night, sir," he grunted. "There"s an inn a mile or two on."
The window of the chaise was let down with a clatter, and a lady looked out. "Child, you"ll be wet," she said to her cavalier. "How far to Norman Cross?"
The serving man rode up close to the chaise. "Another hour, ma"am. I"m saying we"d best put up for the night." "I"d as soon make Norman Cross," said the gentleman, "for all it"s plaguily damp."
"There"s an inn close by, as I remember," the servant repeated, addressing himself to the lady.
"En avant, then. Produce me the inn," the lady said. "Give you joy of your England, Peter my little man."
The gentleman laughed. "Oh, it"s a comforting spot, Kate."
The inn came soon into sight, a square white house glimmering through the dusk. There were lights in the windows, and a post—chaise drawn up in the court before it.
The gentleman came lightly down from the saddle. He was of medium height, and carried himself well. He had a neat leg encased in a fine riding boot, and a slender hand in an embroidered gauntlet.