All Categories - Liz Tyner

The Perfect Valet

10/12/2019

Imagine the luxury of having someone whose sole duty in life was to make sure you were attired to perfection.

The bliss of it.

In It's Marriage or Ruin, Marcus is fortunate to have a valet.

An Excerpt with Robert speaking about being asked by the lady of the house to fetch a glass of water:
:
‘Water. A glass of water? To ferret out my chambers took her much effort and she didn’t even want the water that I got for her. I graciously forced myself to get it because I wanted to please her so she would leave me be—and she dunked a paintbrush in it.’

‘I will get her a lady’s maid.’ Marcus’s voice flowed lullaby smooth.

The valet forced words past his lips, enunciating each one. ‘I have sent a servant to wait on her, but that unwelcome person still seeks me out.’ Robert ran a hand through his white hair. ‘This isn’t the turn of events I expected. You have married in haste and I will repent in leisure.’

They went to the stairs.

Robert continued, affecting a woman’s voice as he followed Marcus. ‘“Open the door a crack. No, that is too open. No, that is too closed.”’

As they topped the stairs, Emilie waited, listening, and Marcus gave her a slight smile.

When Robert saw her, he said, politely to Marcus, ‘May I get you something, Lord Grayson?’

Twice, Marcus thought, twice Robert had addressed him as Lord Grayson. The man was upset.

He stared at Robert for a brief moment. Robert had a most calm demeanour, but a few strands of his hair were sticking straight up and that was not something Marcus had seen before.

Emilie glared at Robert and Robert looked over her as if she were not there.

‘Marc.’ Her head was high. ‘The servant...’ she pointed a finger at Robert ‘...threw a book at me.’

Robert glared at her. ‘It is not fitting for you to be in this servant’s bedchamber and I was merely bouncing it from the door in frustration in the hopes you would notice said door and leave.’

Photos From My World

10/10/2019

This raccoon didn't visit enough to be named, but I enjoyed seeing it on the few times it did drop by.

It's Marriage or Ruin, and Portfolios

10/7/2019

   Mother smiled one of those grim-lipped smiles after grandmother suggested I read one of my poems aloud. Mother was used to my poetry, and that particular poem was grim.

Mother liked the ones that I had secreted away and she discovered when she picked up my notebook. It was a SCHOOL notebook. I never expected her to look into it.

   I don't remember which ones she found, but I'd already made plans that I would someday write a book.

   She told me I shouldn't write poems if I didn't want people to read them. Many times she said, "Don't write down anything that you wouldn't want the whole world to see." (I got that part, but she neglected to tell me how I was to get the entire world to read it.)

In It's Marriage or Ruin, Emilie has a Flower portfolio. What are the odds I would put a flower portfolio in a novel and have it contain flowers? Not nearly as high as the odds that I would have it contain illustrations of the hero.

Excerpt:

He felt her fingertips at his sides and a tiny pull as she tugged at his waist.

‘Marcus. I must draw subjects several times before I absorb them. And I thought to get a new portfolio for the flowers of summer.’

‘Is that all you think of, Emilie?’

‘Marcus, you cannot know how much I ache for my work.’

He took a finger and traced the outline of her lower lip, watching the contrast of his skin against hers. The fullness of her lips entranced him. ‘It must feel so lonely inside. Not to have what you need most.’

‘Incredibly.’ She turned. ‘My mother burned one portfolio and would not even let me purchase a new sketchbook. I’m sure you understand. It is like wanting the taste of a confection and you can see it, and it’s right in front of you, but you cannot taste it.’

He pushed the words out of his mouth. ‘I have no idea what that would be like.’

Longhorns

10/5/2019

When I was younger, I'd only observed longhorn cattle on television shows, and then from a distance. It was only after I saw them closer that they began to fascinate me.

While my neighbors do have longhorns, I don't know the people or the cattle well enough to ask for photos. So, I go to a nearby historical site, roll down the window and hope to be able to take some photos.

They do have rules about not feeding the animals and staying in your car. And, about staying on the blacktop...

Normally, I prefer to drive on the blacktop, but this time I wasn't so sure.

The cows were not going to move... They were completely happy to stand in the road, probably hoping we'd ignore the no feeding sign. The horns looked vicious. I didn't want to have to explain longhorn dents to my auto insurance agent.

Luckily, I was with someone who knew cattle language. Really. He rolled down the windows and began sending them away, using the same sounds he'd probably learned when moving cattle as a youngster. It worked. One even slung her head while chewing her cud...opposite my open window. It was like slow motion...the one long string of spittle floating through the air toward me. Cattle snark goes a long way. I was told that it could have been a lot worse, and since I grew up running barefoot on a farm, I understood.

Publication Day in the USA!

10/1/2019

Seeing the publication of my latest book reminded me of the moments before I'd ever had a copy of my first novel, and the questions people sometimes ask me about being published.

When I'm asked how a new writer will become published, it's impossible for me to give a specific answer for that person.

The first step is probably checking out YouTube Videos, and looking at videos from all spectrums of the writing world. Check out online and/or local writing groups.

Publishing changes annually, and what might have worked for me once, might not work for me today.

Besides, each person is best suited to an individual path. Strengths and weaknesses are important. What can you do? What are you afraid of doing?

You can't let what you're afraid of doing stand in the way of what you can do. Fear and procrastination may be the two biggest hurdles to seeing a book in print. Or sometimes, it can be just the joy of holding a story close to you while you work on it.

I finished Emilie's story about six months ago, even though I'd started writing it many years ago. I truly enjoyed the process of creating the character, but now I'm happy to add the book to my bookshelf.

Selfies...From the Past

9/28/2019

Self-portraits by artists could be considered the longest, and oldest, way to take a selfie.

Elizabeth Vigee Le Brun did several self-portraits, and when I see simple reproductions of them, I'm impressed. If I'm standing in front of one of her portraits, I feel that I can see what a gentle person she was (I hope), and I'm fascinated.

When I viewed reproductions of Rembrandt's self-portraits, I wondered what he was thinking to paint so many pictures of himself. After seeing an original, I changed my mind. I was in awe, just as I am with Le Brun's work.

Norman Rockwell even did artwork of himself painting a picture of a picture of Rockwell.

John Singer Sargent created a self portrait, but when viewed beside the likeness he did of his teacher, Emile Carolus-Duran, Emile's visage seemed to have more depth. As a student, you do want to impress the instructor, and I'm sure Sargent did.

We would have no idea what many of the artists of the past looked like if it not for their selfies, and I'm happy they took the time to create them.

BTW: That's a selfie of my hand holding a paintbrush.

Carriages...What My Character Might Like

9/21/2019

I'd thought about carriage houses before, and often refer to them in novels. But I'd ever really thought about one with a carriage in it, and how much room the vehicle would need.

I was thrilled to see this one. And I was fascinated by the perch. The driver needed a place to brace his legs if he pulled on the reins to make a sudden stop, I suppose. I've also been told you wouldn't want to hurt a horse's mouth, so you do have to take care.

When I walked up to the carriage, the guide reminded me that carriages needed more maintenance than just a fresh coat of paint. The roads could be rugged, and hard on the wheels. They really could break.

So when the character in It's Marriage or Ruin is delayed by the carriage getting stuck in a puddle...well, it could have happened. Servants could have been that tricky...particularly if they were paid well.

Note: The carriage above is a photo I took at the Mount Vernon estate.

Photos From My World

9/19/2019

Perspective...

I see an endearing little squirrel in the photo.

My husband sees a pest that gnaws, and destroys, wiring on lawn mowers.

Utility workers see a potential cause of power outages.

Bird lovers see a seed thief.

My cat sees a potential meal.

...No wonder he's taking a break.

Photos From My World

9/18/2019

"Summer afternoon. Summer afternoon. To me those have always been the most beautiful words in the English language." Henry James

Marcus, Lord Grayson

9/14/2019

In my area, the peerage is as common as unicorns, hobbits, and Cujo. Except, on occasion it does seem an occasional Cujo might sneak in.

So, it would stand to reason that I would avoid writing about characters who are of the peerage. After all, there is that adage, write what you know.

But, I believe people are basically the same. As one of the female aristocratic types in one of my books said, "We put on our bejeweled slippers the same as anyone else."

The hero in It's Marriage or Ruin is Marcus, Lord Grayson.

Excerpt:

Lord Grayson remained perfectly still for several moments before he moved. He rearranged the hem of his sleeve and his eyes fell over Emilie, making the air she swallowed fill her with a fresh warmth. ‘We meet again.’

‘You knew I was out here,’ she said.

‘Whether I did or not, it doesn’t matter.’

Even in the darkness, Emilie could imagine him plainly. Nature had sculpted a visage which could have inspired Michelangelo to do better work.

Her hand wanted to caress, to run over the planes of his cheek so she could experience him with the feeling of touch as well as sight.

Inwardly, she berated her traitorous thoughts. She pulled herself from the momentary stupor, blaming it on her fascination with form.

How unfair that someone such as Lord Grayson, a man who said he liked frivolities, would have such a pleasing appearance. Her mother had been so wrong about which of Avondale’s sons had been graced with handsomeness.
The humour on his lips faded. ‘Miss Catesby, you are an accident waiting to happen.’

She tossed the words out. ‘Accidents do happen and I am not the cause of any of them.’

‘You cause things to happen on purpose.’

‘Occasionally.’