New Release -- Yuletide Lies

Stay tuned!
I should be able to announce availability any day now.

YULETIDE LIES is a very sweet, Traditional Regency Christmas novella. Short, sweet, and full of all those things we love about Christmas time romance in Regency England.

Amidst mistletoe, mystery, and a motley menagerie, the greatest gift this Christmas might turn out to be Love...

Victim of a horrible scheme gone wrong, Miss Cassandra Loring expected to wake up dead. Instead, she has found herself in a castle somewhere in the remote English countryside. Her rescuer, it turns out, is the irresistible Lord Braden who, oddly enough, is under the mistaken belief her name is Miss Horne. And that they are engaged to be married!

With danger nipping close at her heels and a kidnapper still on the loose, it simply makes sense not to correct him. There are plenty worse things than to have a kind--yet mysterious--earl doting on her. She's almost positive he isn't the villain behind her abduction. Besides, she'll be gone long before their scheduled Christmas Day wedding... no matter how much she might wish to stay.
Available soon exclusively on Kindle. Other formats to follow.

The Wonderful Gift of "Non"

MISS WHEATON'S WHISKERS has been officially out for one week now. Yay! What fun it's been to make this story available. The next few weeks she's only available on Kindle, but soon she'll venture into other formats.

For now, here is a tasty little snippet in case you're curious what the sneaky little miss is all about:

"You weave an attractive packet of lies, Miss," the man said at last.

"You call me a liar?"

"A storyteller, perhaps. But it makes no difference to me. I'm happy to stomach the whole of it—drunken brother, ailing mother, destitute siblings. Certainly it is more than enough to explain your hasty engagement. And far more entertaining than whatever true reason there must be."

"Why should I need a reason to give my consent to any reasonable man?" she asked. "Just who are you to be my judge?"

"Ah, so now you are interested in me, are you? Perhaps I wish to keep my identity secret just as much as you do."

"It makes no matter to me, I assure you. I simply wondered, since you seem to think you are somebody. Are you? Do you have a name?"

"John," he said, after a pause. "That is my name."

"Ah, well that answers everything," she declared.

He gave her his first name and nothing more? Now what on earth was she supposed to do with that? It wasn't as if she'd go around calling him by it. Certainly not! And John was quite an ordinary name. He could still be anyone and she'd never guess it.

"Just John? I'm surprised. You seem to think of yourself overly high, Just John. Isn't there a Mister or a Sir with that? How should I call you?"

Now he turned just enough to meet her eyes with his own. They were a deep, deep blue that hinted at night time. "I am pleased to know you wish to call me at all."

The Truth about Bamboozling

"He is a fine fellow," said Mr. Bennet, as soon as they were out of the house, "as ever I saw. He simpers, and smirks, and makes love to us all. I am prodigiously proud of him."

Mr. Bennet, of course, was not being honest. Anyone who has ever read Jane Austen's PRIDE AND PREJUDICE knows that he is speaking here of Mr. Wickham, one of the greatest liars and petty scoundrels of Regency fiction. Oh, how we love the duplicitous George Wickham and his half-truths and misinformation!

But Mr. Wickham had no monopoly on lies. Language of that era is peppered with various colorful terms and phrases to refer to the wondrous art of deception. Why would I be so familiar with these words? Because I have a pretty little liar of my own in my upcoming release, MISS WHEATON'S WHISKERS.

And no, she's not a bearded lady. A "whisker" is Regency vernacular for "lie". Of the little white variety. And boy does Miss Wheaton tell them! All for a good cause, of course. She's really got the best of intentions, you know. But I'll blog about that on another day.

Today it's all about clankers, gabble, and making May-game of some poor humbugged gull.

If you were to tell a Banbury tale, you'd be bouncing or fibbing. It would hardly be enough to put you in a bumble-broth, but a simple bit of funning. Too much bibble-babble, though, would certainly get you called maggoty or even havey-cavey. To pull a chouse on the nearest gudgeon would clearly label you Jackanapes, and pulling a kickshaw rig would make you quite the saucebox. It might cause a row and you'd have to talk the hind leg off a dog to get out of a fair wigging.

Now, don't go thinking all this twadle is just fimble-famble or some old mare's nest. I'm certainly no quiz, and that's not just puffing and folderol. I've no need for rodomontrade. I'd be a sharp and a sly-boots if I let you believe that diddling gammon.

But let me twit you a bit with this poser: is it better to bam or to banger or outright fudge than to sham by embroidery and old Spanish coin? Plumper and rot, my good friends! Such colorful phrases are little more than piffle and flapdoodle, of course.

Now that I've bemused and bedazzled you all with my literary gew-gaws, no doubt you've taken the nacky notion I must clearly be a wicked dissembler of the worst sort. Fustian, I say! Don't be up on your high ropes. Call me a peach, but I'll spill the soup on you all. I've no doubt every one of us has sprouted a few whiskers here and there.

Now I dare you to cry tarradiddle!

Contest: Your Favorite Reading Spot

I love books that are set in far away places. Regency England is my favorite location--it's geographically half a continent and one whole ocean away from Ohio, plus it's 200 years in the past. That's pretty far away. But gosh, do I love being whisked off to that magical land of fancy gowns, country gardens, quieter times, and gentlemen in cravats. Sigh.

Yes, I have strong opinions of where I like to read about. But what about where I like to actually read? Does that make a difference?

I've got noisy kids, rambunctious dogs, invasive cats, and a house with a very open floor plan. So yes, I've learned that where to read a good book does indeed make a difference. Let me share with you a bit of what my efforts have uncovered:

Can I enjoy a book if I read it at my desk? No. Because A) this is where I know I should be working, and B) there is way too much pouncing at my desk.




Can I enjoy a book if I read it in my bed? No. Because Someone (ahem, Lulu) likes to crowd me out of my spot.

So where does a girl have to go to get some alone time?

Okay. Not my first choice.

Here's where I'd rather curl up to read a good book.

How about you? Do you have a favorite place to read a good book? Does where you read have anything to do with how much you enjoy the book?


I'll be doing some give-aways over the next couple weeks. In honor of this long weekend here in the US, I'm giving away four copies of my upcoming release, PASSION AND PRETENSE. If you love light-hearted Regency Romance with a little mystery, let me know where you like to read. Tell me about your favorite reading spot and I'll put your name in the drawing. On President's Day, Feb. 20th, I'll select four lucky winners. (International readers are welcome to enter!)

Okay, now it gets better:
If you send me a photo of you reading one of my books in a favorite (or dreadful!) reading spot, I'll put your name in for a bigger drawing and you can win a gift card for either Barnes & Noble OR for Amazon/Kindle along with your free copy of PASSION AND PRETENSE! That winner will be announced on release day, March 6, 2012.

Photos can be posted to my Facebook page or emailed to susan.heino@gmail.com. The only stipulation is that you let me post your photo on my blog and/or my social media. Okay? So make sure you comb your hair!

PASSION AND PRETENSE

March 6, 2012. That's when PASSION AND PRETENSE officially releases into the wild. Well, into bookstores and e-readers, at least.

I really love this story and I've been impatiently waiting to share it. I'm gearing up to do a blog tour and some fun give-aways, etc., but I'll just have to tease you a bit while I firm up the details. Meanwhile, keep your eyes open for more, because what begins as Pretense might have a way of ending in Passion!

Miss Penelope Rastmoor has always been a bit of a troublemaker. Determined to thwart her brother's plans to get her properly married, she decides what she needs is the most horrible, unsuitable fiancé ever imagined. Unfortunately, she never quite imagined Lord Harry!

Lord Harry Chesterton has his own reasons for agreeing to Penelope's scheme. A man's life hangs in the balance and Lord Harry needs what Penelope has—a mysterious Egyptian scarab. Yes, he'll pose as her unsuitable fiancé and he'll get his hands on her scarab. But will he be content with that, or will Lord Harry end up stealing something more precious?

An excerpt:

He held her tightly, pressing her against him to feel every inch of her tantalizing curves. His mouth took possession of hers, her sweetness and willingness fueling a desire that was wholly unexpected. He knew, of course, kissing Miss Rastmoor would be pleasurable. He never dreamed it would be so overwhelming.

"It would appear Miss Rastmoor is good at a few things, as well," he said, coming up for air.

She, too, was catching her breath. Her huge blue eyes blinked up at him. "Heavens, but you're even more wicked than everyone says you are!"

"Now don't act quite so righteous, my dear. You seem to be someone who rather likes wicked."

"But my brother doesn't. He is absolutely going to hate you."

He didn't much care for the sound of that. "I thought you said he wasn't here?"

"He's not, but once he finds out we've become engaged, he'll boil over like a scalded pot. Oh, he'll be furious."

Harris shoved her away as if she'd suddenly become scalding herself. "Now wait one little minute here!"

"No, no, it's no reason to panic," she said, shushing him as if she expected him to stand here and discuss this with her. "I'm not trying to trap you, or anything."

"It sure as hell seems that way," he said, scanning for the quickest, darkest way out of the garden. "Damn it, woman, did you think by luring me into a few stolen kisses I'd feel compelled to drop down on my knee and offer for you?"

She stood up very straight and jabbed her pointy little chin into the air. "I don't recall luring you at all, sir. Besides, I've heard your uncle has pulled the rug out from under your finances until you get a proper wife."

"And you'd like to apply for the job?"

"Heavens, no! It's just that I'm in somewhat the same situation, you see."

He really had no idea where this was going, but damned if he wasn't intrigued. What the hell was this minx up to?

"You need a proper wife?" he asked.

"No. I need a proper fiancé," she replied. "Or rather, a very improper one."