ON SALE! 99¢ - To Tame the Wind and Racing with the Wind from the Agents of the Crown!

For a limited time, To Tame the Wind and Racing with the Wind, the prequel and book 1 in the Agents of the Crown series, are ON SALE for 99¢. (For To Tame the Wind, it's US and UK only.)

Winner of the 2017 International Book Award for Romance Fiction! 

“A sea adventure like no other, a riveting romance!”  – NY Times Bestselling author Shirlee Busbee 

  “Daring sea battles, roguish lurkers, ill-treated prisoners of war, and deceitful dandies add dashes of spice to this historical romance, making it one readers will savor long after they turn the last page.”  – Pirates & Privateers 

Paris 1782…AN INNOCENT IS TAKEN

All Claire Donet knew was the world inside the convent walls in Saint-Denis. She had no idea her beloved papa was a pirate. But when he seized Simon Powell's schooner, the English privateer decided to take the thing his enemy held most dear...her.

A BATTLE IS JOINED

The waters between France and England roil with the clashes of Claire's father and her captor as the last year of the American Revolution rages on the sea, spies lurk in Paris and Claire’s passion for the English captain rises.
 

Get in on Amazon.

 

Racing with the Wind!
 

“...a dazzling mix of passion, adventure, mystery and love.” —Breath of Life Reviews

THE NIGHTHAWK

Hugh Redgrave, Marquess of Ormond, was warned. Prinny had dubbed Lady Mary Campbell “the Swan,” but no ordinary man could clip her wings. She was a bluestocking hoyden, an ill-advised match by every account. Luckily, he sought no bride. His work lay on the Continent, where he’d become legend by stealing war secrets from Boney. And yet, his memories of Lady Mary riding her stallion were a thorn in his mind. He might be the son of a duke and in the service of the Prince Regent, but he would not be whole until he had won her hand. 

THE SWAN

It was unheard of for a Regency debutante to postpone her first season, yet Lady Mary had done just that. Far more interested in politics than a husband, she had no time for foolishness or frippery. Already she had assisted her statesman uncle in Paris, and she swore to return to the court of Louis XVIII no matter the danger. Like her black stallion, Midnight, she would always run free. Only the truest heart would race beside her.

 Get it on Amazon, B&N, Kobo, iBooks, Smashwords.

 

“...a superb historical romance, filled with passion, political intrigue, and a worthy hero and heroine!” — Award-Winning Author Cynthia Wright

“A dashing spy and an intrepid English lady romp through Regency England and Paris. A must read!”  — USA Today Bestselling Author Shirl Henke

Read an excerpt from Racing with the Wind:

 

The Prologue
 

The outskirts of Paris, 1811

     A tall figure stood among the trees, another shadow in the gloomy night. Swirling mist covered the ground around him like a soft gray carpet. A chateau loomed ahead, a dim monument in the light of a pale half moon that revealed only shades of gray.

     He waited for a drifting cloud to obscure the moon’s faint glow before daring to steal across the wide expanse of lawn. His boots made no sound as he crossed the stone terrace and became one with the wall of the elegant mansion. There he paused and listened. All was quiet save the rustle of the leaves stirred by the gentle breeze.

     Looking up, he peered though the mask that covered his face and fixed his eyes on his goal, a window high above. Barely disturbing the mist, he reached for a thick vine and climbed.

     His dark hair was loose at his nape and he was clad all in black, moving like a wraith. The clouds continued to drift in the night sky, uncovering the half moon. A glimmer of silver reflected from his chest where he wore a brace of pistol daggers; the weapons were unique and of a French design, and he had used them before to great effect. A smile came to his lips as he considered the legend that had spread about him—a larger than life figure who successfully stole secrets from places believed safe from intrusion.      They called him L’Engoulevent, the Nighthawk. He came only at night, swooping down and disappearing before anyone roused. An occasional glimpse by a servant or a guard had provided only partial descriptions. Some said he flew with a cape. Others said he wasn’t human at all but rather a dark and ghostly apparition. But the Nighthawk was very real. Tonight his target was the home of a French general believed to be the author of Napoleon’s plans to invade Russia.

     Perched above the ground, clinging to the vine, he reached for the edge of the leaded window. The latch gave way with a quiet click. He slipped through the opening and dropped into a low crouch on the thick rug. Surveying the bedroom before him, he could see the sleeping form of a young woman in a white poster bed, her dark hair spread upon the pillow. She did not stir as he moved past her and toward his destination.

     At the end of the hall he located the study reported to hide the secret documents he sought. Cautiously he entered the spacious room lined with traditional dark wood cabinets and tall book-filled shelves, and stealthily moved to the carved wood desk facing a marble fireplace. Reaching into his shirt he pulled out a small black velvet case. Inside were the delicate tools that had opened the most secure locks in France.

     Working with only the pale light from the windows behind him, he opened the locked drawers and captured his prize. Placing the correspondence and map inside his shirt, he surveyed the room. He knew there would be more.

     His gaze came to rest on an old painting of a French military officer in dress uniform hanging over the fireplace. The officer’s white breeches reflected the room’s meager light, but he cared not for the painting, only for the secrets it might guard. Silently he crossed the room and lifted the gilded frame. The cast-iron safe set behind it made him smile as if encountering an old friend.

     He set the painting on the floor to once again work his magic with the lock. Again he was successful. Ignoring the velvet jewelry cases and money, he reached instead for the letters and papers. Not bothering to decipher the words in the dim light, he added these documents to those in his shirt, closed the safe, and returned the painting to its original position. His mission complete, he crept down the hall to the bedroom where he had first entered the house.

     The young woman stirred in her sleep, restless in her dreams. He should have departed without disturbing her, but something made him pause. Perhaps it was her beauty. Her face, with its delicate features and well-shaped lips, was turned slightly to the side. Upon closer inspection, she looked to be about eighteen.

     He bent to hover for a moment, breathing in the fragrance of lavender. Her lips were warm as he bestowed his kiss. He knew he was keeping alive the legend, and there was no benefit to a legend when one’s purpose was to remain unknown. Yet, he could not resist. There were few enough pleasures in the life of duty that he’d chosen for himself.

     Her pale eyes opened slowly, heavy with sleep. Placing his finger on her lips to quiet any words, he whispered to her in the perfect speech of the French aristocracy, “I leave you my kiss and a wish for a good life, beautiful mademoiselle.”

     She gasped as she took in his masked appearance, but then a faint smile came to her lips. “The Nighthawk,” she whispered, and reached for him, entwining her fingers in the hair at his nape.

Without saying a word, he gently pulled her hands from his neck and moved to the window and back into the night. He had accomplished his mission. The Nighthawk might be a thief, but he was not a despoiler of innocents.

     More’s the pity.

The Port of London in the 18th Century

Pool of London, painting by John Wilson Carmichael

The Donet Trilogy features Georgian romances set in the 1780’s with ship captain heroes. (To Tame the Wind is book 1). In each of the stories, the captain must adroitly maneuver his ship (one is a schooner and one a brig-sloop) through the traffic on the Thames to moor in the Pool of London. That’s the area just downstream from London Bridge where London’s port was originally centered. And it was a very busy place because the Port of London was the busiest port in the world!

During the 18th century, both the city of London and its international trade went through a great expansion. The Thames became a huge traffic jam, or, as one of my characters in To Tame the Wind described it, “There are so many ships in port just now, the Thames is like a kettle of stew on the boil.”

 

Thousands of coastal sailing ships entered the port each year bringing coal or grain to the capital. These ships competed for space in the crowded river with vessels carrying goods like sugar and rum from the West Indies, tea and spices from the East Indies, wine from the Mediterranean, furs, timber and hemp for rope from Russia and the Baltic and tobacco from America.

As you might expect, the rate of increase in the volume of the trade fluctuated with the alternating periods of peace and war. Between 1700 and 1770 the commerce of the port nearly doubled, and from 1770 to 1795 (only 25 years) it doubled again. In 1751, the Pool of London handled 1,682 ships in overseas trade. By 1794, this had risen to 3,663 ships. By 1792, London’s share of imports and exports accounted for 65% of the total for all of England.

The heavy congestion in the Pool resulted in damage to goods and ships, theft and delays. Merchants complained loudly about the effect this had on their costs and profits, and in the 1790s the merchants of the highly profitable West Indies trade began to campaign for better port facilities, which they eventually got.

Some idea of the state of congestion that existed in the river can be gathered from the fact that in the Upper Pool, 1,775 vessels were allowed to moor simultaneously in a space adapted for about 545. A ship of 500 tons was thought of as a ship of exceptional size and this partly explains the state of congestion. The great increase in the volume of trade resulted in the addition of a large number of ships of relatively small carrying capacity. The situation was aggravated by the large number of these smaller craft, estimated at about 3,500, employed to convey cargoes from the moorings to the wharves.

Ships did their best to sail up or down the Thames, but being unloaded was another matter. Until the end of the eighteenth century, there were no docks built for unloading ships (as opposed to dockyards that repaired them). Instead, cargo that couldn’t be carried from a ship to the wharf would be ferried by smaller craft. 

 

Is it any wonder the heroines admire the captains who can handle such a challenge?

What reviewers say about To Tame the Wind:

"... a captivating tale of love and intrigue...  Walker deftly weaves historical fact into the tale, and her depiction of privateers and privateering is well done. Daring sea battles, roguish lurkers, ill-treated prisoners of war, and deceitful dandies add dashes of spice to this historical romance, making it one readers will savor long after they turn the last page."  ~ Pirates & Privateers 

  "Masked balls, handsome sea captains, and a plot that will keep you hooked. What's not to love!? To Tame the Wind is romantic historical escapism at its finest - a historical romance fan's dream of a novel! 5/5 stars."  ~ Good Friends, Good Books

The Donet Trilogy on Amazon

Masquerade Balls in the Georgian Era

While the earliest record of a Carnival celebration might be that in a 12th century Roman account of the pope and upper class Roman citizens watching a parade through the city, the word “masquerade” meaning “a ball at which the guests wear masks and other disguises” seems to be Italian in origin and dates from the 16^th century. By the 17^th and 18^th centuries, masquerade balls had become popular throughout Europe. John Moore, a Scottish physician and writer, in his memoirs published in 1779, mentioned masquerade balls held in Brunswick, Germany when he visited that city.

 

John James Heidegger, a Swiss count who arrived in Italy in 1708, is credited with having introduced the Venetian fashion of a semi-public masquerade ball to London in the early 18^th century, with the first being held at Haymarket Opera House. London's public gardens, like Vauxhall Gardens, refurbished in 1732, and Ranelagh Gardens, provided optimal outdoor settings where characters, masked and in fancy dress, mingled with the crowds.

According to Masquerade and Civilization: The Carnivalesque in Eighteenth-century by Terry Castle,

“The Eighteenth century was an ‘age of disguise,’ the masquerade—with its sensuous, exquisite duplicities, its shimmering liquid play on the themes of self-preservation and self-concealment—must take its place among the exemplary phenomena of the period.”

 

My Georgian romance, To Tame the Wind, begins in 1780 as the heroine, Claire Donet, a convent student in Paris, sneaks out one night to see a bal masque, a masquerade ball given by one of the convent’s benefactors. 

For the first time, Claire, then sixteen, glimpses a glittering ballroom where men and women are dancing the Menuet de la Cour attired in elaborate costumes beneath crystal chandeliers. Here are her thoughts:

The dancing men and women were costumed in what she could only assume they had a mind to be, and not what they otherwise were. Though she was certain all were from the aristocracy, they were dressed as milkmaids, shepherdesses, jesters, pirates and a few Persian kings. It was as if the characters in the fantastic stories her mother read to her as a child had come alive.

To one side of the dancers, a devil dressed in black conversed with a cardinal in scarlet and a woman attired as a trousered hussar. The red pelisse with its gold braid worn over blue trousers might have been tailored for the woman’s curves, but Claire recognized the uniform all the same.

Many wore masks, from simple black to those more elaborate, some even bejeweled and adorned with feathers.

Her heart raced at the pageantry of it. If only she could join them.

As my heroine noted, those attending often delighted in donning the disguise of someone very unlike their normal role. Of course, there were always those who merely wore fancy, elaborate gowns or dressed up like a character from history or literature. But the more outrageous ones would be those where the costume spoke of the opposite of the person, as for example, a courtesan attired as a nun.

 

At such a ball, there might be a supper and, of course, much wine. The food would be served after midnight and likely cold. A masquerade ball attended by the Prince of Wales held in May of 1783 included cold “Chickens, Fowls, Lamb, Lobsters, collared Eels, and various Meats” as well as “tarts, blanche mange, ices, and other confectionary.” The wines served were Champagne, Claret, Madeira, Port, and Lisbon.

 

In my story, the heroine has eyes only for the hero, an English privateer, attending in disguise:

 

A flash of shimmering gold cape swirled around broad shoulders. A gilded mask of an eagle barely concealed long, blond hair tied back at his nape. At his side hung a sword in a golden sheath. His was the brilliance of the sun compared to everyone else’s candle, a mythical creature condescending to join the parade of mortals now moving in slow cadence. Tall and well-muscled, he moved with sinuous grace through the steps of the dance as his lips curved in a brilliant smile.

For the first time, her heart sped at the presence of a man, the sensation so unfamiliar her hand flew to her breast to rub the pounding spot. Oh, he was handsome, this golden one.

Who could he be?

To Tame the Wind won the 2017 International Book Award for Romance Fiction and the 2017 San Diego Book Award for Best Historical Romance. It was also a finalist for the 2016 Chanticleer Award, 2016 Readers' Favorite Award, Heart of Excellence Readers’ Choice Award, the RONE Award and the Heart of Denver’s Aspen Gold Award for Published Authors. Buy it on Amazon!

Love on the High Seas!

I love the sea and the ships that sail upon it. I also love a romance with a sea captain hero. So, in writing my Regencies, it was inevitable one or more would be set on a ship. Two of my romances are set, at least in part, on a schooner of the period: Wind Raven, the third in my Agents of the Crown trilogy, and To Tame the Wind, the prequel to the trilogy, a Georgian romance.

When I began to do the research for these stories—the part set on the ship—I had no idea what was involved.

Since I’m committed to making my stories historically authentic, I dove into all the ship terminology, pouring over my new 4-inch thick Sailor’s Word Book until late at night. But I realized just having the vocabulary was not enough. I wanted to be able to describe a storm at sea as huge waves crashed onto the deck and a battle that had shot bringing the sails down around the characters. For To Tame the Wind, I had to describe battles raging in the English Channel. And I wanted to do it all while getting the ship terminology correct. So, I did hundreds of hours of research and studied diagrams of schooners and sail configurations until I was seeing them in my dreams

But even that was not enough. I had to get the feel of the ship. I decided it was essential to take a ride on an actual schooner.

The schooner pictured below, as painted by artist William Lowe, is the Californian, a reproduction of a topsail schooner of the period that, fortunately for me, is berthed in San Diego where I live. It is the type of schooner Capt. Jean Nicholas Powell sails in Wind Raven and his father, Capt. Simon Powell sails in To Tame the Wind. And this is the ship I experienced under sail.

It was thrilling to hear the sails luffing, feel the wind on my face as the ship’s bow cut through the waves and the deck moving beneath my feet. (And, yes, it does move a lot.)

While on board, I soon exhausted the knowledge of the docent, at least as to the Georgian and Regency era ships. However, I found a jewel in the gunner, who became my technical consultant, and now my good friend. She led me through the things my research could not tell me. Even a simple question like whether the quarterdeck should be raised. You’d be surprised at how complicated the answer is.

Some schooners were flush-decked, that is everything on the main deck is on one level, like the Wind Raven and the Fairwinds in my stories, so that you could walk from the bow to the stern without going up or down any ladders. The ship still has a “quarterdeck”; it’s just not raised.

If you compound this kind of issue many times over with everything from windows in the captain’s cabin (side windows existed in larger schooners such as in my stories), to what the captain might read (it’s in Wind Raven), to how a fast schooner can avoid the guns of a larger brig-sloop (it’s in To Tame the Wind), you begin to get a picture of the depth of research required to “get it right.” But the end result, I believe, is a story that puts you on the ships and gives you exciting tales of love on the high seas.

 

One reviewer said after finishing Wind Raven: 

“... it had me feeling the spray of the ocean in my face, my hair and clothing plastered to my body, the chill of my blood when you know, just know that you’re time is up and you’re done for.”  

Want to sail with my characters? Take a look at the storyboard pictures for To Tame the Wind on the Pinterest board. And check out the books on my website.