You might wonder why I set my historical romance, Mercy of the Moon, in the 18th Century. One word–breeches. Have you ever seen Russell Crowe in Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World?

Let me tell you straight off that I’m not an expert on 18th Century fashion; I just find it fascinating. My trusty Oxford American English dictionary defines breeches as, “short trousers fastened just below the knee . . .” Breeches fit nice and snug on various parts of the male body. A woman may or may not get a peek of the gluteus maximus, via the slits in the waistcoat. A  lady can only hope. You see, men’s clothing in those days was a little more …flattering, allowing the men to display a muscular calf to advantage, at the very least.  The hair, now that’s a different story.

I’ve heard people say we are more narcissistic  these days, with all the plastic surgeries and money spent on makeup, creams, and so on. Nowadays, even men get face lifts, calf implants and butt lifts. Clearly, vanity wasn’t invented in the 21st century.  Woman and men were vain even back in the 1700’s.  Look at Marie Antoinette and King Louis the XVI.

Even men less pedigreed than King Louis were fashion conscious. There was a trendy group of fellows who called themselves “macaronis.” As a kid, I’d heard “Yankee Doodle,” and was always puzzled about the “stuck a feather in his cap and called it macaroni” line. Come again? Why don’t you just call a feather a feather?  Years later, I discovered that “macaroni” was an 18th Century word used to describe a feather-in-the-hat-wearing fashion conscious British dandy who liked to put on foreign airs, not something you mixed with cheese.

My hero, Ian Pierce, has his mind on other things besides fashion, like  midwife Maggie Wilson. He is well-travelled, and had a couple of suits made in the Far East, where he was in search of…well, that’s another story. He had to dress up to perform at the courts of King George II and King Louis the XV. Ian has great presence, with his wide shoulders, long legs and endless vitality that midwife Maggie finds so mesmerizing.

People in that century weren’t much different than we are, really. They too wanted to be admired, cherished, and loved, despite the lack of modern dentistry, sanitary conditions or medical advances. Men are men, and we women, no matter the time period, fall in love with them whether they’re wearing breeches, khakis, or kilts.



blog-chuckThis is Chuck, my Great Dane/hound dog mix. Chuck is giving me the GIMLET EYE.  I love this phrase, and use it a few times in Mercy of the Moon.   According to the Oxford Dictionary, it means “an eye with a piercing stare.” I clicked over to the website Wordwizard, and thanks to an article by Ken Greenwald discovered that a gimlet, besides being a drink made with gin or vodka, is also a very sharp woodworking tool made back in the 1500’s.

Chuck is taking advantage of the fact that he has lost weight and knows that I will do just about anything to get him to eat, including but not limited to spoon-feeding. Don’t judge me-he’s the best dog we’ve ever had, a complete sofa spud, and the perfect writer’s companion. He is wild about bread and waits for my crusts with a GIMLET EYE. My boy could easily rest his giant head on the table and snatch it, but he doesn’t. He could probably stand there for hours with complete faith he’ll get what he wants. He’s not the sharpest tool in the shed, but he’s smart enough to fix me with a GIMLET EYE.

Wouldn’t it be cool if we resurrected some of these old phrases and words?Apparently, this word originated in 1752, as far as anyone can tell. I would love to see us enriching conversations and increasing the vocabulary of our society. We could tweet it, text it, slip it into our everyday conversations:

    • At the grocery store check out: “Madame, there is no need to fix me with the gimlet eye, I did not see the EXPRESS LANE sign.
  • You have accidentally dis-programmed the remote: “Honey, you offend me with your gimlet eye, I was only trying to help.”
  • At your job: “As manager, I strongly advise against the gimlet eye when dealing with customers. it gives them the wrong impression.”

Let’s start a trend. Wow a friend with this cool phrase. Or give it to someone who deserves it.

Emotional Rescue

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A very exciting delivery came to the house on Saturday while I attended a meeting. Two boxes containing my very own copies of Mercy of the Moon from my publisher, Wild Rose Press, had been dumped at the end of our long driveway. It’s rainy season in my neck of the woods, and fortunately my husband was outside picking up sticks and saw my babies lying there all vulnerable and helpless. He must now be named Sir Emotional Rescue, for he lovingly carried them out of danger to the shelter of our castle. As soon as he got them inside, the sky opened up in a torrential downpour. He saved the day, like he has done in so many ways for thirty-five years.

You guessed it: the song for the day is the Rolling Stones’ “Emotional Rescue.” I especially dig the part at the end where Mick drawls:

“I will be your knight in shining armor,

Riding across the desert on a fine Arab cha-a-a-a-r—ger

Coming to your emotional rescue.”

My hero did something way more spectacular than that: he saved Ian, Maggie, and the rest of King’s Harbour from certain ruin.

This Musical Monday is for you, Honey.

Musical Mondays

Musical Mondays

MercyOfTheMoon_w8691_300 Music plays a huge part in Mercy of the Moon. In the opening scene, my hero Ian Pierce sings out his grief at the grave of his brother.  Heroine Maggie Wilson stands in the kirkyard over her sister’s grave, trying to contain her sorrow in order to care for the surviving family. But Ian’s anguish sinks into her like cold rain from the English Channel, and she succumbs to her pain. But not for long, for she must carry on. I listen to music while writing these emotional scenes. Composer Michael McGlynn and his Irish Choral group, Anuna, inspire and enable me to tell my story. They make up a large part of my playlist. For this scene, the beautiful “Maid in the Moor Lay,” and the sorrowful tune, “Goltrai´ by former Anuna artist and Celtic Woman, Meav brought tears to my eyes. I channel that in my writing. If you are a writer in need of inspiration or would like to hear some breathtaking music, give a listen to these brilliant artists. Back to the story: Later that evening, Ian comes to Maggie’s aid as a sinister circumstance throws them together again. Ian awakens emotions in Maggie that she’s never felt before, joy as well as sorrow.  I’ll talk about that on the next Musical Monday. Thanks for listening.