Friday, November 20, 2015

Up for Pre-order: PASSIONATE PROMISES an Anthology from award-winning, bestselling authors.

PASSIONATE PROMISES: An Embracing Romance Anthology
Nine Promises to Stir Your Passions from award-winning, bestselling authors. Enter the dazzling world of brawny Vikings, Regency rogues, and sexy scoundrels as they take you on one romantic journey after the other in these tantalizing historicals filled with betrayal, intrigue, and passion.

Stirring Passions by Maggi Andersen
A Kiss for Miss Kingsley by Collette Cameron
To Challenge the Earl of Cravenswood by Bronwen Evans
Second Chance Marquess by Jessica Jefferson
A Highwayman's Honor by Michelle McLean
Lord Quickthorn's Bargain by Barbara Monajem
A Promise of Love by Ella Quinn
Wanted by the Warrior by Violetta Rand
A Pledge of Passion by Victoria Vane


Monday, November 9, 2015

Enjoy a Regency Christmas short story! LORD BARTHOLOMEW'S CHRISTMAS BRIDE

Amazon UK
Amazon AU
Free on Smashwords: 

A stickler for correctness, Lord Bartholomew Winborne, second son of the Marquess of Brandreth, is about to take up his appointment as a vicar in India. Requiring a suitable wife by Christmas, he has made a list of the most desirable qualities she must possess. The annoying Miss Emily Isherwood appears to have none of them.
A short story
Meet the Brandreth family from the Spies of Mayfair Series, and The Baxendale Sisters Series.

Wednesday, November 4, 2015



In her first Season, Hope Baxendale attracts the interest of a powerful English duke, the husband all debutantes wish for and some will fight dirty to get. If only the handsome Frenchman Daniel Brienne, Duc du Ténèbres wasn’t distracting her from her course. Daniel shows little interest in marrying again, and surely, it is only the sadness in his deep brown eyes that pulls her to him:

Daniel yearns for solitude. When his very existence is threatened, he wakes to the possibilities of a life passionately lived. He knows just whom he wants in his future, but the weary hawk, the Duke of Winslow, circles. And is it fair to ask Hope to leave her family and her country for him?

A heavyset man halted beside Hope. When his way forward was blocked, he lost his temper and pushed against her. His foot crashed down on her instep, unprotected in her thin evening slipper. Hope cried out in pain, but the man merely ground his shoe into hers to gain momentum and pushed on.
With an angry scowl at the man’s back, the duke took her arm and pulled her sideways. He frowned down at her. “Did he hurt you?”
She grimaced. “My foot is a little sore.”
Hope limped as he drew her toward the open French doors.
When they reached the doors where the curtains flapped in the breeze, they escaped out into the cool, welcoming fresh air. The terrace was deserted. A small party of guests, who had braved the weather, disappeared amongst the trees to admire the gardens lit by braziers.
Hope had left her evening cloak when she’d entered the mansion. She shivered and rubbed her arms. Her foot throbbed horribly, and she’d begun to hobble.
The duke put an arm around her and led her to a garden seat. He shrugged out of his coat and wrapped it around her shoulders. “I’ll fetch your parents.”
Hope clutched his coat, still warm from his body to her chest and breathed in his musky, masculine scent. “It will be difficult for you to locate them in that crush.” She looked toward the open door. “I expect they’ll soon find me.”
“Then please allow me to see the extent of your injury.”
Hope cautiously lifted her gown high enough to expose her foot and ankle as the duke knelt at her feet.
She muffled a gasp as his gloved fingers took a gentle hold of her ankle and his dark head bent over her foot. Her skin tingled where he touched her. The only man who had ever paid attention to her ankle was the groom who’d taught her to ride. The duke removed her slipper, revealing an obvious swelling beneath her damaged stocking.
“You’ll have a nasty bruise, but I don’t think you’ve broken a bone,” he said, lifting his head and pinning her with his deep, soulful dark brown eyes.
She sucked in a breath and fought to compose herself. He didn’t look beguiled. In fact, he sounded like their doctor. She’d thought him quite sociable when they’d last danced, but tonight, there was more distance between them despite his proximity. It was impossible to know what he was thinking. She supposed she didn’t present well from this angle. She now had a big hole in her soiled stocking. “I was to ride in Hyde Park on Sunday. I suppose I shan’t be able to, now,” she said. “And I was looking forward to it.” She closed her mouth firmly, aware she was rambling.
“I doubt this injury will prevent you. You like to ride?”
“I do. Riding gives one a wonderful sense of freedom.”
“Well put.”
“Although Rotten Row is a little restricting. One cannot gallop there. My father disapproves of women galloping. He says sidesaddles are dangerous.” She pressed her lips together.
“They have been proved so.”
“I would love to ride astride, like men. I don’t see why women cannot.” Rambling and opinionated. She was so nervous she seemed unable to stop.
“In the future perhaps, when you marry.” He straightened, but having him stand so close didn’t improve her breathing.
“A husband would permit it?”
“I don’t see why not in the privacy of his estate.”
“Then you agree?” she asked, curiosity getting the better of her. “You would allow your wife to ride astride, I mean.”
He paused to consider it. “It would be entirely my wife’s decision.” His smile softened the firm set of his jaw and turned his eyes to brown satin. “But I imagine you could persuade your husband without a great deal of difficulty, Lady Hope.”
It wasn’t a criticism, for his tone was warm. He might even like her a little. In fact, his gaze was a soft caress, and oddly, it seemed to bring him closer, although he hadn’t moved an inch. A lurch of excitement shocked her and brought her back to the present. They were at a rout, surrounded by the beau monde. Her dress was rucked up, and he was holding her shoe!
“We’d best replace your shoe before your foot swells.” The duke dropped down again and returned to his task.
He was holding her ankle in his long fingers while slipping on her shoe when her father stormed out of the door with her mother following on his heels.
For a moment, Hope held her breath as her father surveyed the scene. Thankfully, he did not rush to judgment. But neither was he pleased. His brows snapped together. “Thank you for rescuing my daughter from that infuriating melee, Your Grace.” He strode over to Hope. “We feared you’d been trampled underfoot, my dear.” He eyed her foot. “It seems you have.”
Fortunately, she and the duke were not alone, for several guests had emerged from the gardens and approached the terrace steps.
Having replaced her shoe, the duke straightened. “Your daughter has suffered a slight injury.”
“I’m grateful for your assistance,” Father said, his tone brisk. He whipped the duke’s coat from Hope’s shoulders and held it out to him. “Most grateful.”
The duke shrugged into his coat. “Lady Hope finds it painful to walk.”
“Come, Hope.” Her father took hold of her arm and led her across the terrace.
A sharp pain shot through her instep, and she staggered. “I can’t walk, Father.”
“Dashed infernal entertainments, so called,” her father muttered. “How on earth are we going to get through that crowd?” He swung Hope up into his arms.
Hope held on to her father’s shoulder and peered around at the duke, who nodded to her as she was carried inside. “Thank you,” Hope mouthed.
Her father blustered his way through the throng, which was thankfully dispersing, her mother behind them. Reaching the front porch, he set Hope on her feet. “Never ask me to attend another of these ridiculous routs again,” he said to her mother through clenched teeth. “I’d rather brave Billingsgate fish wharf.”
“Are you overset my dear?” her mother asked. “He actually had his hand on your ankle! The French do not have the same sense of proprieties that we English do.”
“He wore gloves, Mama.”
“Nevertheless. He might have seen more than was fitting.”
“He did see my foot and my ankle. I believe he will recover from the experience.”
“Don’t be impertinent,” her father said. “Your mother is quite correct.”
At least her parents were now in agreement.
As they were led to their vehicle, the duke strolled onto the porch. Footmen stood to attention while others scurried for the carriage. His fingers on her ankle had been gentle and impersonal, and he’d showed no sign that he found her irresistible. Why would he? It had been kind of him to bother with her. He was a puzzle, however, welcomed with respect in English ballrooms and sought by those in high office, but at the same time, there seemed a wall between him and the rest of the world.

WHAT A RAKE WANTS and LADY HONOR'S DEBT nominated for the Red Carpet Book Awards!


Exciting news! I have two books nominated for the Red Carpet Book Awards: WHAT A RAKE WANTS (Book #3 in my Regency spy trilogy The Spies of Mayfair)

LADY HONOR'S DEBT (Book #1 in my Regency series The Baxendale Sisters)

Sunday, November 1, 2015

Saturday, October 24, 2015

HOW TO TAME A RAKE Maggi Andersen 0.99!

0.99 cents Amazon
Due to the codicil in his father’s will, Blake Dangerfield, Earl of Hawkeswood, must marry the woman chosen for him, or lose part of his inheritance. Did his father hate him that much? Wilhelmina Corbet is a hoyden, not long out of the schoolroom, who hails from a farm in Northumberland. The last time Blake saw her she wore braids and climbed a tree to rescue a kitten.

Wilhelmina Corbet has dreamed of Blake since she was twelve. But the thought of marrying the handsome earl terrifies her. She comes to his estate, Hawkeswood, determined to measure up to his expectations for a wife. But after time spent with him in London, Mina begins to wonder if the rake is the man she wants to marry.

Can they find happiness when a handsome heir to a dukedom, unruly pets, and a young chimney sweep are thrown into the mix?

Sunday, October 11, 2015

Breathless In the Bush: Miranda's October Musings Let's talk about NOVELL...

Breathless In the Bush: Miranda's October Musings
Let's talk about NOVELL...
: Miranda's October Musings Let's talk about NOVELLAS! So PERFECT for your busy life! Spring has sprung here in Oz, darlings. B...

Friday, October 9, 2015

Eloping to Gretna Green

Gretna Green
By Maggi Andersen

“I publish the Banns of marriage between Groom’s Name of–his local parish–and Bride’s Name of–her local parish. If any of you know cause or just impediment why these two persons should not be joined together in Holy matrimony, ye are to declare it. This is the first [second, third] time of asking.”

In the third of my Baxendale Sisters series, LADY HOPE AND THE DUKE OF DARKNESS, lovers set out on the long journey to Gretna Green. Whether they marry there or not, I shan’t reveal, but since Georgette Heyer first created her charming Regency world, we have been reading about lovers escaping to Gretna Green to be married, when no other option is open to them.
So why Gretna Green?

The introduction of the “Scottish Elopements and the Marriage Act of 1753. An Act for Better Preventing of Clandestine Marriage, was also known as Lord Hardwicke’s Marriage Act), and was the first statutory legislation in England and Wales to require a formal ceremony of marriage. The Act prevented clandestine marriages (valid marriages performed by an Anglican clergyman but not in accordance with the canons). And ended the notorious Fleet Marriages associated with London’s Fleet Prison.
Scottish law allowed for “irregular marriages,” meaning that if a declaration was made before two witnesses, almost anybody had the authority to conduct the marriage ceremony. To be married “over the anvil,” meant that the eloping couple took their vows at the blacksmith’s shop. “Blacksmith priests” conducted the ceremony, which was a public acknowledgment of a couple’s desire to pledge themselves to one another.
Any man could set himself up as an ‘anvil priest.” Although they were frowned on by the local church for calling themselves a priest, the fee and a tip which could be as much as fifty guineas, made it very attractive. Couples could also marry at an inn.
So where is Gretna Green?

The village of Gretna Green lies on the main road from Carlisle to Glasgow and is situated on the most southerly point of the English border on Scotland’s west side. The Sark River marks the border itself, a half mile from Gretna Green.
From Gretna Green Memoirs by Robert Elliot (1842):
Near the Solway Firth, the Regency era’s Greta Green is “…[a] small village with a few clay houses, the parish kirk, the minister’s house, and a large inn. From it you have a fine view of the Solway, port Carlisle and the Cumberland hills, among which is the lofty Skiddaw; you also see Bowness, the place where the famous Roman wall ends.”


Learn more at my web page:
#Regencymarriage #Regencyromance #maggiandersen #HistoricalResearch #GretnaGreen

Thursday, September 3, 2015

Annemarie Brear: Historical research: Horses, carriages, stables an...

Annemarie Brear: Historical research: Horses, carriages, stables an...: On a recent trip to Normanby Hall, a local historical manor house a few weeks ago, I spent a lovely few hours in the sun strolling around th...

Monday, August 31, 2015

RELEASED! HOW TO TAME A RAKE My research for the book!

My new release, HOW TO TAME A RAKE is set in the Victorian era, because I wanted to feature an amazing woman, 1st Baroness, Angela Burdett-Coutts, who was widely known as ‘the richest heiress in England’. Angela did some amazing things in her lifetime, she proposed to the Duke of Wellington, and at 67 years old, despite the huge disparity in their ages, married her 29 year old secretary, American-born William Lehman Ashmead Bartlett. But it’s her philanthropic endeavors which are most impressive.

Burdett-Coutts spent the majority of her wealth on scholarships, endowments, and a wide range of philanthropic causes. One of her earliest philanthropic acts was to co-found a home for young women with Charles Dickens. Urania Cottage was for those who had ‘turned to a life of immorality’, including theft and prostitution.
Her amazing achievements are too large to list here. My interest lay in her close involvement with the Royal Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals (RSPCA).
The RSPCA was founded in a London coffee shop in 1824. The men present knew they were creating the world’s first animal welfare charity, but they couldn’t have imagined the size and shape that the charity would become today.

A painting of the trial of Bill Burns, showing Richard Martin with the donkey in an astonished courtroom, leading to the world's first known conviction for animal cruelty, after Burns was found beating his donkey. It was a story that delighted London's newspapers and music halls
Back then, they were called the SPCA - Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals. Royal patronage followed in 1837 and Queen Victoria gave permission to add the royal R in 1840, making us the RSPCA as they’re known worldwide today. They are best known today for the work they do with pets. But they were influential in forming and improving animal welfare law.

When they were founded, their focus was on working animals, such as ‘pit ponies’, that were worked down the coal mines.  
In 1822, two years before they were founded, ‘Martin’s Act’ was passed. It was the very first animal welfare law and it forbade ‘the cruel and improper treatment of cattle’.

Thirteen years on, in 1835, and ‘Pease’s Act’ consolidated this law. The prohibition of cruelty was extended to dogs and other domestic animals, bear-baiting and cock-fighting was forbidden, and it insisted on better standards for slaughter houses.

Other successes long after my story ends have included laws for lab animals, the abolition of fur farming in the UK, the ban of fox hunting with dogs and the animal welfare act.

How to Tame a Rake

Due to the codicil in his father’s will, Blake Dangerfield, Earl of Hawkeswood, must marry the woman chosen for him, or lose part of his inheritance. Did his father hate him that much? Wilhelmina Corbet is a hoyden, not long out of the schoolroom, who hails from a farm in Northumberland. The last time Blake saw her she wore braids and climbed a tree to rescue a kitten.

Wilhelmina Corbet has dreamed of Blake since she was twelve. But the thought of marrying the handsome earl terrifies her. She comes to his estate, Hawkeswood, determined to measure up to his expectations for a wife. But after time spent with him in London, Mina begins to wonder if the rake is the man she wants to marry.

Can they find happiness when a handsome heir to a dukedom, unruly pets, and a young chimney sweep are thrown into the mix?
Refreshed edition.

Here’s a taste:
Another day passed before Mina felt well enough to leave her bed. The breakfast room was empty. Crowley informed her that Blake always rode early and Lady Elizabeth took breakfast in bed. She sipped her tea, gazing at the gardens beyond the window, where an unusually mild day beckoned.
Donning her pelisse and bonnet, she ventured outside into the brisk air and went for a long walk, glad to be out again after the stuffy, overheated rooms. The day was cool, but not as cold as it had been. She ambled along the path and descended a graceful, stone stairway flanked by enormous marble urns and onto a long sweep of lawn. A statue sat on a plinth in the distance, and she walked toward it. Before she reached it, she saw something lying stretched out on the grass. At first, she thought it a pile of leaves. On closer inspection, she found a fox cub. As she knelt down to him, he lifted his head, his dark eyes pleading.
“Oh, you poor, poor thing.” She stroked the red-gold coat. How beautiful he was. He’d hurt a leg, probably in one of those horrid traps. It was broken, dangling at an odd angle. She knew just what to do about it. She’d splinted one of her dogs back home when he’d broken his leg jumping from a high wall.
Picking the cub up carefully, Mina cradled him against her chest. He didn’t struggle. Perhaps he knew that she was a friend or was too weak to care.
She carried him along the path. As she rounded the corner of the house, she came face to face with Blake.
“I’m glad to see you out and about…” he began. His dark brows shot up. “What on earth do you have there?”
“A fox cub. He’s hurt his leg. I’ll have to splint it.”
“You’ll do what?”
“A splint. You use a straight piece of—”
“I know what a splint is, Mina! But this is fox hunting country. We can’t keep a fox here.”
“Why not? When his leg is healed, he will go and join the other foxes.” Her lip trembled. “And then you can hunt him down and kill him.”
“For Lord’s sake!” Blake searched her face as she hugged the animal possessively in her arms. “Come on, then. The animal is ruining your gown. Fortunately, that’s no great loss for Mother plans to see to your wardrobe.” He turned and headed back toward the stables. “We’ll get my head groom to splint it.”
“And feed and water him until he’s strong again?” she called after him.
“Yes. All right!”
Early the next morning, Mina returned to the stables.
Blake came in as she was sitting with the fox. He had a stall all to itself. He was sitting up, his ears pricked. “Won’t be long before the leg is mended,” Blake said, leaning against the stall door. “And then you must let it go, Mina.”
“I know. He’s a wild thing.” She stroked the fox’s soft fur.
“Are you feeling well now?”
“Yes, thank you.”
“Good. Arrangements have been made for you and Mother to go to London. Tomorrow.”
Mina gazed up at him. “You’ll look after Felix?”
“That’s his name. Felix. Promise you’ll look after him after I’ve gone.”
Blake tilted his head, gazing down at her. “You are an odd girl, Mina. I would have expected you to be far more interested in going to London.”
She stood and shook out her skirts. “I’m very excited, I assure you. I must go and pack.”
“The maids will do it,” he called after her. “But you can leave most of your clothes behind.”
Mina had a strange impulse to turn and poke her tongue out at him. But she suspected he already thought of her as too young for him. She put her fingers to her lips. No matter what happened, she would always remember her first kiss.

#VictorianRomance #HistoricalRomance #RSPCA #Earl #Ton #Romance #Maggiandersen