7b2DNCgm.jpg largeAnother day just like the one that came before. Another morning spent organizing things for people who seem to neither notice nor care that I do things for them but would scream bloody murder if I didn’t. Another blank page waiting for me to pour romance onto it, and I can’t even remember the last time anything vaguely interesting happened to me.

I need something, anything, a little sweetness in my life. Any kind of connection that will make me feel human again. Something that will relieve this soul-crushing loneliness. And the irony is that I’m never, ever alone anymore. As it happens, the source of most of my troubles is sitting on the sofa behind me right now.

It isn’t that I don’t love him anymore; it would be so much easier if I didn’t. And it most certainly isn’t the fact that he got sick and is in constant pain, a mere shadow of his former self. That part he can’t help, that part is most horrible for him and I am more than willing to help him with that. But that’s not what’s destroying us. He is doing that. He crumbled the moment he found out that the disease he is battling cannot be cured, only arrested. He takes the pills to arrest the progress but he has made no attempt to build a new life around the limitations he now has. Quite the opposite, he has descended into depression and has brought us into that swamp with him. (more…)


CRfkMsYUYAAFtGJLondon, early October, 1819

Henry turned the key in the door to the comfortable rooms above Regents Street and let himself in. It wasn’t his residence, he had not chosen it, and it most certainly did not reflect his taste. But he had financed it for the past three months and had just signed the lease for another six. The gesture was his parting gift to his latest mistress, Millie, but Henry was not about to make her aware of that fact. This was to be their last night together, and Henry did not want it spoiled by any unnecessary emotional outbursts. Millie was the sort of woman who would consider it a point of pride to indulge in such a display but that was only partly why he planned to keep her in the dark about the significance of the occasion.

There was always a special excitement to the last encounter with a woman, almost more so than the first. The lady in question never knew it would be the last time; only he did, and that lent urgency to the encounter. Of course, they all knew he would move on eventually. That, after all, was the nature of his game and most of London knew how he played it. But still, he liked being in control of when and how things ended. (more…)

A Thing of Beauty: The Sir Henry March Mysteries (Volume 1)

51cOzt2NHaL._SX322_BO1,204,203,200_Eliza woke to the smell of tea and a soft nuzzle against her cheek. Her eyes still closed, she stretched and hummed her contentment. So encouraged, the nuzzle moved from her cheek to her neck and into her hair and turned into an embrace as Henry’s arm burrowed its way under her shoulder and his other arm found its way around her waist. She stretched farther as their bodies aligned, enjoying the feel of his bareness against hers and noted that his skin was cool next to hers. “You’ve been up already.”

He kissed her gently on the mouth, drawing another hmmm, this one disgruntled. “And you used the tooth powder. Not fair.”

Henry chuckled and kissed her again, this time teasing her lips open and stroking his tongue against hers. “I don’t mind, but I’d be happy to keep the bed warm whilst you use the facilities.”

Her eyes were still closed and she snuggled deeper into his embrace. “Hmmm, in a minute.” (more…)

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