Tag Archives: The Wild Rose Press

Romance, Intrigue, Spies–The American Revolution and .99 Sale!


The American Revolution captivates me and is the focus of my Traitor’s Legacy Series, beginning with award-winning historical romance novel, Enemy of the King. Before touching on the series, I’m shouting out a .99 kindle sale on book 3, Traitor’s Curse. The sale will run from August 26 through September 8, and extends to other major online booksellers.

Inspiration behind the series: I have ancestors who fought on both sides of that sweeping conflict, including a British general. My research into the Southern face of the war was partly inspired by my great-great-great grandfather, Sam Houston, uncle of the famous Sam, who kept a journal of the Battle of Guilford Courthouse, North Carolina, 1781, used by historians.  

Stick around for a wild ride into Carolina Back County and the battle between Patriots and Tories. Our hero is the former and our heroine the latter.  Both of them bear names that belonged to my ancestors.

TheTraitorsLegacySeries_w11372_300LOVE, BETRAYAL, AND THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION! THE TRAITOR’S LEGACY SERIES!
Releasing as a box set in mid-September! Pre-order yours at Amazon now: https://www.amazon.com/Traitors-Legacy-Beth-Trissel-ebook/dp/B01L5PSE1K
This exciting series in a convenient and economical set! How cool is that?
Enemy of the King, an award-winning historical romance novel with a paranormal element, is my version of The Patriot. A big fan of Daphne Du Maurier since my teens, I was also influenced by her mystery/ghost story, Rebecca. Our Virginia home place, circa 1816, and other early homes left deep impressions on me. I’ve long harbored suspicions that those who’ve gone before us are not always entirely gone.  Most of all, I’m a Southern Virginia author, and it shows.

1780 South Carolina, spies and intrigue, a vindictive ghost, the battle of King’s Mountain, Patriots and Tories, pounding adventure, pulsing romance…ENEMY OF THE KING.

“I thoroughly enjoyed reading Enemy of the King. Not only are the characters memorable and the setting beautifully described, but the action is riveting and the romance between Meri and Jeremiah is tender. I highly recommend Enemy of the King to anyone who loves a well crafted historical romance.” ~Poinsettia Long and Short Reviews

*Publisher’s Weekly BHB Reader’s Choice Best Books of 2009 
*2010 Best Romance Novel List at Buzzle!

“An amazing and vibrant look into the American Revolution…this sexy historical is a must read!” ~Coffee Time Romance And More

“I love historical romances. They are one of my favorites and anymore when I think of a historical I think of Beth Trissel.”~Reviewed by Bella Wolfe, You Gotta Read Reviews

“Beth Trissel is a skilled storyteller and scene-builder. She immediately plunges the reader into  action and excitement with a vivid sense of time and place.” ~Historical Romance Author Kris Kennedy ( for Enemy of the King)

TRAITOR’S LEGACY–Sequel to ENEMY OF THE KING

(The Traitor’s Legacy Series)

Mystery, intrigue, spies, a coded letter, and stirring romance fill the pages of Traitor’s Legacy. Bringing history to life.

TraitorsLegacy_w8945_med.jpg (official cover) (2)Story Description

1781. On opposite sides of the War of Independence, British Captain Jacob Vaughan and Claire Monroe find themselves thrust together by chance and expediency.

Captain Vaughan comes to a stately North Carolina manor to catch a spy. Instead, he finds himself in bedlam: the head of the household is an old man ravaged by madness, the one sane male of the family is the very man he is hunting, and the household is overseen by his beguiling sister Claire.

Torn between duty, love, and allegiances, yearning desperately for peace, will Captain Vaughan and Claire Monroe forge a peace of their own against the vagaries of war and the betrayal of false friends?

Historical Romance Novel TRAITOR’S CURSE (SEQUEL TO TRAITOR’S LEGACY in the Traitor’s Legacy Series)

traitors curseGhostly, Gothic, historical romance novel, Traitor’s Curse, the sequel to Traitor’s Legacy, and the third novel in the series, came out in print and eBook autumn 2015 from The Wild Rose Press.

Set in historic Halifax, NC, on the heels of the American Revolution, Traitor’s Curse builds on the central theme in Traitor’s Legacy. Both novels center around the hidden treasure collected by a band of Patriots to bribe a Loyalist into revealing the whereabouts of the infamous traitor, Benedict Arnold, the man they badly wanted to hang. Although America’s most wanted ultimately fled to England, the treasure remained in Halifax where the haunting mystery in Traitor’s Curse unfolds.

While the historical aspects of that era are authentically depicted in the story, intriguing paranormal elements are also interwoven; among them, a ghost. Other possibilities for his presence in the home are suggested, so choose as you will. It’s kind of a mind game, but significant clues are given for the discerning reader. Bear in mind that the author believes in ghosts and cursed treasure.~

“The supernatural interventions mixed with foreshadowing are well done and believable, whether or not the reader doubts the ghostly possibilities and curses, they work well in the story … and do keep the reader turning the pages. The rapidly developing love story carries with it some inner turmoil in matters of belief and trust, but the gripping external conflicts are laced with danger and evil intent. The story draws the readers into the midst of the fray. And keeps them there.

I readily recommend this novel, “Traitor’s Curse” to anyone who wants to settle into a captivating read created by Beth Trissel, as she weaves her knowledge of the South, herbs and history into this enjoyable love story.” ~Marion Spicer

“A wonderfully spun novel that will keep a reader engaged till the end.” ~Stephanie Lodes for InD’tale
Won Creme de la Cover monthly contest
Nominated for Reader’s Choice at The Romance Review

***Traitor’s Curse is .99 in Kindle from August 26 through September 8. The sale extends to other major online booksellers.

Secret Warrior Series, The Hunter’s Moon–YA Fantasy Romance


I’m pleased to announce I’ve signed a three book deal with The Wild Rose Press for my new YA Fantasy romance series, Secret Warrior. The first story is The Hunter’s Moon, release date to be decided. I love the cover by Debbie Taylor.

TheHuntersMoon_w10257_med.jpg 1.jpg 2

Story Blurb:

Seventeen year old Morgan Daniel has been in the witness protection program most of her life. But The Panteras have caught up with her and her younger brother. Her car is totaled, she’s hurt, and the street gang is closing in when wolves with glowing eyes appear out of nowhere and chase away the killers.

Then a very cute guy who handles a bow like Robin Hood emerges from the woods and takes them to safety at his fortress-like home.

And that’s just the first sign that Morgan and her brother have entered a hidden world filled with secrets.~

Stay tuned.

Big Happenings at The Wild Rose Press!


My recent releases and many other titles are reduced at The Wild Rose Press.

INTO THE LION’S HEART:

Love Letters Line

Blurb: As the French Revolution rages, the English nobility offer sanctuary to many a refugee. Captain Dalton Evans arrives in Dover to meet a distant cousin, expecting to see a spoiled aristocrat. Instead, he’s conquered by the simplicity of his new charge. And his best friend Thomas Archer isn’t immune to her artless charm, either.

Cecile Beaumont didn’t choose to travel across the Channel. And she certainly didn’t expect that impersonating her own mistress would introduce her to a most mesmerizing man. Now she must play out the masquerade, or risk life, freedom – and her heart.~

“A brilliant historical romance by Beth Trissel.  You can feel her passion in the story, very well written and characters that you can feel.   Into the lions heart will take you through a journey of love, and enough surprises to keep you hanging on.  If you love a beautiful historical romance you will enjoy this story!” by Wanda at Romance Writers Reviews

SOMEWHERE THE BELLS RING:

Blurb: Caught with pot in her dorm room, Bailey Randolph is exiled to a relative’s ancestral home in Virginia to straighten herself out. Banishment to Maple Hill is dismal, until a ghost appears requesting her help. Bailey is frightened but intrigued. Then her girlhood crush, Eric Burke, arrives and suddenly Maple Hill isn’t so bad.

To Eric, wounded in Vietnam, his military career shattered, this homecoming feels no less like exile. But when he finds Bailey at Maple Hill, her fairy-like beauty gives him reason to hope–until she tells him about the ghost haunting the house. Then he wonders if her one experiment with pot has made her crazy.

As Bailey and Eric draw closer, he agrees to help her find a long-forgotten Christmas gift the ghost wants. But will the magic of Christmas be enough to make Eric believe–in Bailey and the ghost–before the Christmas bells ring?~

“I fell in love with Ms. Trissel’s characters and look forward to the next delightful story ready with Kleenex box in hand. A must read for every romance fan.”

~ Robin at Romancing the Book Reviews

SOMEWHERE MY LOVE:

Blurb: Star-crossed lovers have a rare chance to reclaim the love cruelly denied them in the past, but can they grasp this brief window in time before it is too late? Newly arrived at Foxleigh, the gracious old Wentworth home in Virginia, British born Julia Morrow is excited at the prospect of a summer working as a guide in the stately house and herb garden. She quickly discovers the historic plantation holds far more. She becomes obsessed with the portrait of handsome Cole Wentworth, killed in a quarrel over the lovely English lady, Julia Maury, two hundred years ago.

Then she meets his double, William, the only remaining Wentworth heir. Somehow, Julia must persuade Will that their fates are entwined with those of Cole Wentworth and Julia Maury, and that the man who killed his ancestor has returned to enact the deadly cycle again, or she will lose him twice. The blade is about to fall.~

As I read Somewhere My Love, I recalled the feelings I experienced the first time I read Daphne DuMaurier’s Rebecca long ago. Using deliciously eerie elements similar to that gothic romance, Beth Trissel has captured the haunting dangers, thrilling suspense and innocent passions that evoke the same tingly anticipation and heartfelt romance I so enjoyed then, and still do now.
~ Joysann, Publishers Weekly

*These stories are available in various ebook formats to suit any ereader, pc, iphone, or electronic reading device at The Wild Rose Press.

Sweet Saturday Snippet from Historical Romance A Warrior for Christmas


Chapter One,

December 1764,

An estate outside Philadelphia

Blinking against wind-driven sleet, Corwin Whitfield followed the stout man through the front door of the massive stone house, far larger than he’d imagined. A dozen cabins or Indian lodges put together could fit inside and still leave ample room.  With winter lashing at their heels, Uncle Randolph had pressed both man and beast hard to reach Whitfield Place before nightfall. Icy pellets hit the door as his uncle shut the solid wooden barrier.

Better than a skin flap, Corwin supposed. He was well accustomed to the wet and cold, but a fire would feel good. His gloved fingers were numb from riding over snowy roads all day, not to mention all the previous days. Puddles spread at his boots on the flagstone floor in the entryway.

“Welcome home, Mister Whitfield.”

By the light of the small glass lamp on the stand inside the door, he saw a woman in an apron, severe skirts and gray shawl. The cap engulfed her pinched face. Inclining her head and curtsying, she said, “How was your journey, sir?”

“Wretched, Mistress Stokes.” Uncle Randolph waved a gloved hand at Corwin. “My nephew.” He swiped a paw at her. “My housekeeper,” he added by way of introduction. “Fifth cousin of my late wife’s, or some such connection.”

“Indeed.” Mistress Stokes curtsied to Corwin. “Welcome to Whitfield Place.”

He considered the etiquette drilled into him by his uncle and offered a brief nod. A bow didn’t seem required.

Uncle Randolph scowled. “Foul weather.”

She seemed unperturbed by his gruff manner. “Yes sir.”

“Bound to worsen. See to it the fires are built up.” Unbuttoning his brown caped coat, Uncle Randolph flung it onto the high-backed bench along one wall. He peeled off his gloves, tossing them and his tricorn onto the sodden heap.

Corwin did the same with his newly acquired garments. He couldn’t fault his uncle’s generosity, but the man had the temperament of an old he-bear.

Uncle Randolph ran thickened fingers over gray hair pulled back at his neck and tied with a black ribbon. “Where’s Miss Dimity keeping herself? Is she well?” Corwin detected a trace of anxiety in his tone.

The dour woman gave a nod. “Quite well, sir. She’s in the drawing room just after having her tea.”

“Good,” his uncle grunted. “Tell cook we’ll have our supper in there. Stew, pastries, and ale will serve. Don’t neglect the Madeira.”

Another curtsy and the housekeeper turned away to pad down a hall partly lit by sconces wrought of iron. His uncle frowned after her. “She’s a good body and keeps this place tidy but tends to be lax on the fires. We mustn’t risk Dimity taking ill. Delicate girl. Cold as a tomb in here.”

Corwin found Whitfield Place equally as welcoming as a grave. The chill was pervasive. A furlined wican would be warmer. He followed his uncle across the frigid entryway and through a wide double door. His relation paused just inside the spacious room and Corwin halted beside him.

“There she is,” Uncle Randolph said with the hint of a smile in his normally reluctant features. “My ward, Miss Dimity Scott. The little Quaker as I call her.”

Corwin thought it highly doubtful this staunch Anglican had taken in an actual Quaker. Looking past assorted tables, gilt-covered chairs and a gold couch, he spotted the feminine figure seated before the glowing hearth. A padded armchair the color of ripe berries hid much of her slender form. His first impression was of fair curls, like corn silk, piled on her head beneath a circle of lace; his second, that the young woman bent over her embroidery seemed oblivious of all else.

One this unaware would never survive in the frontier. He’d been taught to move with the silence of a winged owl while observing all around him. “Why does she not look up at our coming?”

“Ah, well, that’s a matter I’ve been meaning to discuss with you.” The hesitancy in his uncle’s tone was unlike this man who knew his own mind and was swift to instruct others.

He squinted at Corwin with his good eye; the other perpetually squinted from an injury he’d received in a duel. “I trust you’ll not hold it against the poor girl as a sign of weakness, my boy. Warriors sometimes do and you’ve kept company with those savages far too long.”

It wasn’t like his uncle to ramble, and Corwin shifted impatiently upon hearing his adopted people disparaged again. “What are you saying, Uncle?”

He rubbed his fingers over a chin grizzled with whiskers. “Dimity cannot hear us.”

“At all?”

“Not a sound, unfortunately. Though she is able to detect the vibrations of music. Odd, that.”

Like the beating of Indian drums. “Has she always been without hearing?”

“No. A bad bout of scarlet fever nearly took her life and left her deaf. Pox claimed her mother and war her father, my good friend, Colonel Scott. Like a daughter she is to me now.” Uncle Randolph glanced at Corwin with a peculiar expression. “I’ve made generous provision for her, though my estate will pass to you after my death.”

“Shall you never remarry?”

“No. I have ample female companionship in town. I expect Dimity will remain here with us at Whitfield Place. It is my hope that you will share in her guardianship.”

Corwin concealed how little inclination he had in that regard. As far as he was concerned, Miss Dimity Scott could inherit the entire estate. She’d have fortune enough to hire servants and live comfortably after his uncle had passed on. As for Corwin, his needs were simple: a horse, some food, arms. Freedom.

This sole surviving relative had come to claim him as a result of that infamous peace treaty. After journeying from the Indian village to Fort Pitt, where all captives were to be accounted for, then on to Whitfield Place he was sick to death of the entire business. He’d accept his uncle’s hospitality for a while and then—

The big man beckoned to him. “Come meet Dimity. She’s expecting us.”

“How can she be?”

“I sent a courier with a letter advising her of our impending arrival. She can read, just not hear.”

Corwin walked across the carpet patterned with birds and flowers. His Shawnee mother would cherish the rich hues, but it would never fit in their wican. He spotted what must be a pianoforte in the corner and wondered if Dimity played the musical instrument.

Uncle Randolph paused behind her armchair, and still she took no notice of them. A panther could seize her by the throat or an enemy fall upon her before she knew. It was well she dwelt here in safety.

Not wishing to alarm her by his sudden appearance, Corwin stopped a few yards short of the chair. A second armchair, the twin of the one occupied by her, faced the crackling fire. That must be his uncle’s usual place. Though not a snug room, the heavy drapes helped keep out the wind and Dimity was wrapped in a creamy wool shawl. A sweet perfume Corwin could only think was violets wafted lightly from her in contrast to the aroma of wood smoke. He hadn’t expected this, or his uncle’s mild manner.

The usually undemonstrative man laid a gentle hand on her shoulder and she glanced around. Granted, she had an appealing face. Her smooth complexion was free from scars, her forehead, nose, and chin well proportioned, and her mouth a soft rose. But she wasn’t a beauty. Corwin was used to women with dark eyes and hair and vibrant spirits; this one seemed colorless by comparison, her gaze too pale.

Then she smiled.

Corwin wasn’t in any way prepared for the radiance charging her blue eyes, like sunlight dancing on lake water. Her entire being seemed shot through with light. He almost staggered back as if struck, but fought to hold his ground and conceal his volatile reaction. Dimity was good, he realized, with a sudden, acute awareness of his shortcomings.

Laying her sewing on a small table beside the chair, she sprang to her feet and threw her arms around what she could encompass of Uncle Randolph. Her blond head reached midway up his chest. “Mister Whitfield, you’ve come at last!”

Her accent was strange, but she’d spoken. How was this possible?

His uncle gathered her in a hearty embrace with a great deal more affection than he’d ever shown Corwin. “Dimity remembers speech from her hearing days,” he said over his shoulder. “And mind what you say. She can read lips.”

As a keen warrior read faces. That would aid her as long as she clearly saw the speaker. In the dark, she would be lost.

Now why had Corwin just envisioned himself alone with Dimity in the dark? The old bear would have his hide.~

A Warrior for Christmas is the first story in An American Rose Christmas Anthology available in print or digital download from The Wild Rose Press, Amazon and other online booksellers.

*I borrowed some British actors to illustrate my characters in the story

*The formal room is from Mt. Vernon

*** To visit other authors participating in Sweet Saturday Samples Click HERE!

A Sweet Saturday Snippet from Murder Mystery Ghost Story Romance Somewhere My Love


“There he is,” Mrs. Hensley said with whispery reverence as she gestured at the full-length portrait on the wall across from the bed. “Painted shortly before his death. His father, Charles Wentworth, was married to Lady Pembrook, the daughter of a British Earl. And Mr. Cole looks a true nobleman, doesn’t he?”

Julia halted. His presence was a soft breath on her neck that warmed and chilled her at the same time. The current running through her strengthened tenfold as she looked up at the young man and his gaze projected eerily back as if he knew she were there.

The artist had captured the intensity in Cole’s dark brown eyes allowing the force of his personality to shine through. His smooth forehead, slightly long nose, and clean-shaven chin balanced the three elements perfectly. He even had a small cleft in his chin as she’d imagined a nobleman would and his mouth was captivating, full, yet not too full.

Wavy chestnut hair met the white cravat circling his neck and made her want to reach out and touch it. She felt like a schoolgirl sighing at the poster of a film star, only this was so much more than that. Her awe at the house paled in comparison to the wonder rising in her as she ran her eyes down the length of the masterful portrait. She couldn’t be certain of Cole’s height, but he appeared tall, standing beside a splendid thoroughbred, his stunning figure clothed in an elegant scarlet coat fitted across his broad shoulders and cut away in front to reveal creamy white breeches molded to his thighs and long legs. He held a plaited leather whip with a crooked handle of carved ivory or bone like a stag’s horn and the thong looped in his left hand. The reins were casually circled around the tapered fingers of his right.

Maybe it was the sheltered life Julia had led, but it seemed to her that Cole embodied everything a man should.

“I see his appeal’s not lost on you,” her companion said.

She’d nearly forgotten the woman was there.

“No. Cole Wentworth is—was—remarkable. What do you know of him?”

“He was passionate about horses and unbeatable in a race.” Mrs. Hensley nodded her capped head at several smaller gilt frames displaying portraits of hunting dogs and horses so beautifully done they appeared lifelike. “He was a gifted artist, as well. We have other paintings by him in the house, but most are here, where he was killed. Tragic.”

A cold finger laid its icy touch on Julia and ran down the length of her spine. “How did it happen?”

“He’s said to have been run through by the very man who made that mark on the door. Mr. Cameron.  Scottish fellow he was, back in…” Mrs. Hensley pursed her thin lips, blue eyes distant. “Ah, yes, 1806. Some fuss over a woman.”

“How dreadful. What about Mr. Cameron?”

“The friend of a neighbor, I believe. He escaped and was never found. No justice was ever done in the matter.”

Julia hesitated, then asked, “And the woman?”

“Heartbroken, poor thing. She returned to England. She was a guest of the Wentworth family and greatly enamored of Cole. All the young ladies were, but he had a particular fascination with this girl.”

“Why was she so special?”

“Apart from her legendary beauty? She had an angelic quality about her. Or so the story goes.”

An irrational jealousy twanged a jarring note in Julia. In the space of a few short minutes she’d fallen in love with the man in the portrait—typical of her impractical nature and unlikely to advance her nonexistent love life. And yet, she couldn’t help plunging into the sweet madness.~

“As I read Somewhere My Love, I recalled the feelings I experienced the first time I read Daphne DuMaurier’s Rebecca long ago. Using deliciously eerie elements similar to that gothic romance, Beth Trissel has captured the haunting dangers, thrilling suspense and innocent passions that evoke the same tingly anticipation and heartfelt romance I so enjoyed then, and still do now.”

~ Joysann, Publishers Weekly

***Special Offer from the Wild Rose Press!  Join their newsletter to get some free books including this one!  One day only offer for a FREE EBOOK of Somewhere My Love on Dec. 5th. For the link to their newsletter click HERE.

***For more Sweet Saturday Samples Click HERE.

Sweet Saturday Sample from Time Travel Romance Somewhere My Lass


An ancient relic, a medieval crypt, a mad Highlander at their throats and time fast running out.  Mystery, suspense, romance…SOMEWHERE MY LASS

A Suspenseful Scottish Time Travel Romance Novella~

BLURB:  Neil MacKenzie’s well-ordered life turns to chaos when Mora Campbell shows up claiming he’s her fiancé from 1602 Scotland. Her avowal that she was chased to the future by clan chieftain, Red MacDonald, is utter nonsense, and Neil must convince her that she is just addled from a blow to her head–or so he believes until the MacDonald himself shows up wanting blood.

Mora knows the Neil of the future is truly her beloved Niall who disappeared from the past. Although her kinsmen believe he’s dead, and she is now destined to marry Niall’s brother, she’s convinced that if she and Neil return to the past, all will be right. The only problem is how to get back to 1602 before it’s too late. The balance of the present and future are in peril if she marries another, and the Neil of the present will cease to exist. An ancient relic and a few good friends in the future help pave the way back to the past, but will Mora and Neil be too late to save a love that began centuries before?~

Excerpt:

“You are a beauty.” His words were a hoarse whisper.

The rise and fall of her chest betrayed a deep inhalation of breath. A flicker of reproach lit her eyes.
“I dinna think ye took heed of me at all.”

He winced at the well-deserved jab. “About before, I’m sorry I left you so suddenly. But there’s no earthly way I could fail to notice you. I’d have to be deaf, dumb, and blind and even then…”

The tension in her face eased and then the hurt returned. “Oh, aye? How could ye forget all ye knew?”

He remained as he was, threading that wealth of hair through his fingers. Again, the rational part of him argued, “Is it possible you’re imagining you knew me before?”

She balked, a mutinous glint in her eyes. “Nae.”

He slid his hand to the finely crafted silver chain at her throat and coaxed the coverlets further down.

A slight gasp escaped her lips. He muted any outward response to the thrill running through him.

The scooped neckline of her nightgown revealed the tops of white breasts sprinkled with freckles. Above this heart-hammering sight hung the crucifix. “I gave this to you?” he managed to ask without betraying the swell of emotion surging inside him.

“At our betrothal.” ~

“Ms. Trissel masterfully blended the past and the present in order to create a lovely romance that spans centuries.” ~Poinsettia, Long and Short Reviews

SOMEWHERE MY LASS has a sensual rating, and I would term it PG13.  The novella is available in various e-book formats at The Wild Rose Press, Amazon kindle, Nookbook, and other online booksellers.

**Visit other authors participating in Sweet Saturday Samples.

My New English Historical Romance and The French Revolution


My fascination with the past and those who have gone before us is the ongoing inspiration behind my work.  With my first English historical romance, Into the Lion’s Heart, I more deeply explored my British heritage.  Set in 1789 England, the story opens with the hero, Captain Dalton Evans (fought in the American Revolution) journeying to Dover to meet the ship carrying a distant cousin, Mademoiselle Sophia Devereux, who’s fleeing the French Revolution.

My research into the explosion across the English Channel in 1789 made me aware of how many French émigrés fled the country in waves during the initial year of the revolution.  A number of aristocrats, including the king’s own brothers, fled along with members of the clergy.   Most all the nobility who did not flee while they still could were later guillotined during the reign of terror, along with a LOT of commoners.

The blood lust that consumed France during that horrific time was ever hungry for victims, and there were a lot more commoners than aristocrats.  All one had to do to fall prey to the guillotine was to appear in any way in opposition to the glorious revolution.    Even to criticize the price of bread was suspect.  I set Into the Lion’s Heart during that first year while there’s a great deal erupting in France but before it gets utterly grim.  Though the thought of a sequel set during that later time has crossed my mind.

Among the key events in 1789 that caused émigrés to flee France:   July 17, the beginning of the Great Fear, the peasantry revolt against feudalism and a number of urban disturbances and revolts. Insurrection and the spirit of popular sovereignty spread throughout France. In rural areas, many went beyond this: some burned title-deeds and no small number of châteaux.  *Not to forget the Storming of the Bastille on July 14th which had to be unsettling.

And then there’s the Women’s March on Versailles, one of the earliest and most significant events of the French Revolution. “The march began among women in the marketplaces of Paris who, on the morning of 5 October 1789, were near rioting over the high price and scarcity of bread. Their demonstrations quickly became intertwined with the activities of revolutionaries who were seeking liberal political reforms and a constitutional monarchy for France. The market women and their various allies grew into a mob of thousands and, encouraged by revolutionary agitators, they ransacked the city armory for weapons and marched to the royal palace at Versailles. The crowd besieged the palace and in a violent confrontation successfully pressed their demands upon King Louis XVI. The next day, the crowd compelled the king, his family, and the entire French Assembly to return with them to Paris.”

King Louis XVI and his queen Marie Antoinette never successfully escaped Paris and were later imprisoned and beheaded.  From Women’s History: “Reportedly planned by Marie Antoinette, the escape of the royal couple from Paris was stopped at Varennes on October 21, 1791. Imprisoned with the king, Marie Antoinette continued to plot. She hoped for foreign intervention to end the revolution and free the royal family. She urged her brother, the Holy Roman Emperor Leopold II, to intervene, and supported a declaration of war against Austria in April, 1792, which she hoped would result in the defeat of France.”

But it didn’t.

Blurb for Into the Lion’s Heart:

As the French Revolution rages, the English nobility offer sanctuary to many a refugee. Captain Dalton Evans arrives in Dover to meet a distant cousin, expecting to see a spoiled aristocrat. Instead, he’s conquered by the simplicity of his new charge. And his best friend Thomas Archer isn’t immune to her artless charm, either.

Cecile Beaumont didn’t choose to travel across the Channel. And she certainly didn’t expect that impersonating her own mistress would introduce her to a most mesmerizing man. Now she must play out the masquerade, or risk life, freedom – and her heart

Excerpt:

Choking on the brine, she thrashed to right herself. Dalton spat saltwater from his mouth and fought to regain his seat while pulling her up with him. Not his most dignified effort. She was the devil to get hold of—kept slipping away. He grabbed her again, only to be knocked back down and rolled with her in the swill on the bottom of the boat.

Damn and blast! Tom and another man hoisted them upright in the prow.

“Thanks,” Dalton grunted, biting his tongue in the presence of a lady. “All right?” he shouted at her, and shifted her securely onto the seat beside him.

“Oui!” she sputtered when she’d recovered her breath.

She shook all over—must be chilled to the bone. They’d be fortunate if she didn’t catch her death, probably bruised too from tossing about in the skiff. The sooner she was safely housed indoors by a toasty hearth, the better.

Keeping an arm around the sodden woman, he peered into a striking pair of charcoal-gray eyes set above a pert nose and framed by fine dark brows.

She parted trembling, bluish lips. “Merci Monsieur—Que Dieu vous bénisse—Les saints nous bénis en préservent,” she stammered, thanking, blessing him, and calling on the saints.

Dalton was tempted to call on them himself, but her outpouring took him by surprise.

Not content with acknowledging his aid, she turned to Tom, crouched on her other side, and blurted similar gratitude—nearly incoherent in the tumult raging around them.

Tom gave a nod through gritted teeth then bent his head over the boat and heaved the contents of his volatile stomach.

She tilted her head at Dalton, eyes crinkled in sympathy. “Mal de mer,” she said, using the French for seasick.~

From Romance Writers Reviews for Into the Lion’s Heart:

“A brilliant historical romance by Beth Trissel.  You can feel her passion in the story, very well written and characters that you can feel.   Into the lions heart will take you through a journey of love, and enough surprises to keep you hanging on.  If you love a beautiful historical romance you will enjoy this story!”  Rating: 5 out of 5 stars ~ Reviewer: Wanda

*INTO THE LION’S HEART is available from The Wild Rose Press in various digital formats to suit any reader you might have, or whatever else you read ebooks on.  Also Amazon Kindle, Barnes & Noble’s Nookbook and other online booksellers. And it’s only $3.50, not gonna break the bank.