“The first thing that most people noticed about Isabella Willoughby was her hair. Thick, lustrous and coal black, it evoked images of harem veils and moonlight bouncing off the dark, wavy sea.”

“To most people it was her one outstanding feature, usually constrained to a bun or upswept in a style that inhibited it from tumbling around her shoulders in the lazy haze it deserved. Marcus had often thought she should allow the riotous mass to have its way.”

–from What Isabella Desires

What Isabella Desires appears on shelves tomorrow (early reviews are posted on the book’s page). Various book and release snippets will appear every day this week. Word of the Day will resume once the madness is over.

More general goofiness from me, but this time it’s book related. I created a trailer for What Isabella Desires in cartoon format. I hope you enjoy it.

This month’s contest also relies on the cartoon, so if you have a hankering to win some signed books, head over to the contest page and give your 2 cents about the villain.

I have created a few of these - so much silly fun. This is the “mystery” one. It will loop, if you miss the first few frames.

Hope you enjoyed the character sketches and maps! I had a great time hunting down quotes and making snippets. All of the sketches can be found together on the “Dragon’s Tale Inn” page link on the side menu.

If you pick up The Earl of Her Dreams, I hope you enjoy it! Have a Happy Halloween!!!

Regency Word of the Day will pick back up in two weeks.

Gordon and Tom bunk in the stables to take care of the horses. Both say they were there the night of the murder. But having been long time servants of the inn, they know every nook and cranny. Big men, they are perfect hires for a little dirty work… Besides, even if innocent, they very well may have seen something with their vantage point across the courtyard. What aren’t they saying?

Seemed like quibbling to her, and again there was that pause in Gordon’s answers. Or was it just a matter of him catching his breath in the cold?

Kate tensed and Christian followed her gaze to where Tom was leaning against the stall door chewing on a stick. The man had moved silently, but could challenge Tiegs’ bruisers for sheer bulk.

Mary Wicket is the daughter of the innkeeper, while Sally is the linen maid at the inn. They share a room and friendship. Mary has blossomed into a lovely young woman, putting her in the town spotlight and in a direct contest between men of the town intent on winning her hand. She may not be as malleable as some might think though. And Sally would cover anything for her friend.

Kate nodded at Mary, the apple-cheeked innkeeper’s daughter, and at the shy linen maid, Sally. “Mary, Sally. This is Mr. Black.”

The innkeeper’s daughter Mary, the epitome of the healthy country lass, was in front, her brows drawn together.

Sally collided with them as they turned the hall corner at the stairwell. She murmured a quick apology and ducked her head after giving Kate a shy smile.

Daisy and Bess both work at the Dragon’s Tale Inn. Mrs. Crescent’s maid is staying in their room. As with the other servants, could any of them have heard or discovered anything during their excursions that night? Could one of them have covered for their employer or someone who has paid them off?

Daisy and Bess, the serving wench and cook respectively, were penned with Mrs. Crescent’s maid on the hand drawn map.

After a quick gab with Bess, the cook, Kate headed for the stairs.

Mr. Wicket turned to give last minute instructions to the buxom blonde maid from the gallery. She sent Christian a lascivious wink before exiting the room.

The owners of The Dragon’s Tale Inn. Mr. Wicket is entirely too cheerful and Mrs. Wicket walks the Inn at night. Mr. Wicket, entirely devoted to his cricket team, seems to think that his daughter Mary will make a good match in marrying Julius Janson. Not everyone agrees… And what is Mrs. Wicket hiding from her husband?

The innkeeper fretfully tugged his bushy auburn mustache, which was at odds with his balding pate. “My apologies, good sir, but we are full for the evening. Perhaps the Green Toad on the other side of town?” He grimaced, obviously chagrined at having to turn away business.

“Mr. Kaden! We don’t discuss the White Stag, didn’t you know?” the innkeeper asked in a scandalized tone.

As if on cue, a rawboned woman came screeching into the room.
“Aiiieeee!”
Belying her scrawny frame, the woman pulled the only two still grappling men apart by the ears and hauled the blonds to one of the few benches that had remained upright.