Isn't it amazing how many unique places there are in the world, ?

...And how many unique stories people have to share.

This weekend, I planned myself a little writing retreat. Nothing fancy, nothing organized. I just looked for a hotel that wasn't too far from home where I could spend a few days with nothing but my computer and my tea. Frankly, no matter how hard I try to manage my schedule, I am not making writing progress at the end of the school year with five kids—graduation, summer plans, late schoolwork, someone tipped over an entire jar of honey.... you know how it goes.

I went on the hotel booking site, with my only criteria being some place relatively cheap, and far enough from home that I felt like I had left, but not so far that driving took too much time. When I'm actually planning a trip, I look for places that are special or unique, but I just wanted to get out of the house.

, guess where I ended up? It's a private Mediterranean-style villa, with a grand split staircase like a Regency novel, hand-crafted mosaics, and its own personally crafted lake complete with bridge and water lilies. Furthermore, the host casually invites guests to use their library (!!) and music room, with a violin, harp, and 9-foot grand with piles of sheet music. I did not actually plan on taking musical breaks during my writing, but my friends, now I absolutely have to stop and play that piano. I like their taste in sheet music, too—heavily into the Romantics, piano and string ensembles, with Bach and Scarlatti. If you're a music geek too, you already have a strong impression of what these people are like.

But meandering around the public areas of the house, there's more. It turns out this mellow guy showing me the gardens and offering to microwave my Cornish bun is also...wait for it...a Harvard astrophysicist who published papers with Carl Sagan.

This is an amazing treat, and you had better believe that I am going to enjoy every moment of frantically writing on this beautiful estate.

But beyond that, it reminds me of the wealth of stories and the depth of human nature. I never knew this existed, just miles from my own house. This beautiful home is even more incredible with the passion, the stories, and the human lives that it holds.

I'm not going to pester my hosts for information about their lives. After all, this was just listed as a hotel. But I do write books because I care about that depth of human experience, and I want to share them with you. I believe strongly that reading makes us more empathetic, especially when we are reading stories that bring us deeply into someone else's heart and soul. So...

It's the last couple days to get Hannah and Rian's stories...

...for only 99 cents. The price is set to revert to normal sometime soon (maybe Monday?), so you'll want to grab it now. The Castle in Kilkenny is an interconnected world, so each of these stories introduces you to a new character making it an excellent starting place.

If you love coming-of-age fantasy with an unusual character becoming a warrior, pick up The Squire & His Magical Library — Rian is physically gifted but doesn't want to be a fighter, and Nessa is a warrior princess with a mission.

If the musical mentions have inspired you, you'll want The Boat on the Lake of Regret. Readers say it's the perfect balance of whimsical and thoughtful; a fast-paced read that leaves an emotional impression.

If you've already read The Horned Women, where Maura escapes her philandering husbands but ends up with more children than she expected and way too many witches in the kitchen, be sure to recommend it to your friends — it's still 99c through the end of May!

Remember you can also check out any of my books through Hoopla and your local library!

Now even The Little White Cat & the Dog Who Wasn't is up, so I'm so excited that they have full library access!

My timer just went off, so...

I've got to get back to writing. I'm currently working on The Ambassador & the Architect for my upcoming Regency series. Although it technically goes in a different genre bucket than my fairy tales, it's designed with a similar reading experience for you.

My Regencies still have strong, complex women; cinnamon roll heroes with emotional depth; lots of found family; and endings that are more than a sugar rush.

Sadly, I don't have the dogs with me

I have too much of a care-takers' heart. I would have spent too much of the weekend paying attention to them, and as rewarding as that is, I have to write actual words on my actual pages.

But instead, I have dog books for you!

Along with.... let's see.... dragons, cats, tiger, bear, and (!!) mycelia. I was not expecting that last one. Here is a selection of fr*e books and stories with beyond-human characters in fantasy and sci-fi. You have got to browse these covers and see what a creative variety there is!

Cats, dogs, dragons — oh my!

P.S. I just found a panda and capybara, too.

Looking for something more personal... and human?

If you're looking for more authors who dive deep into the stories of humanity, like the house I'm staying at now, you'll find something perfect (and fr*e) among these women's fiction stories.

Just in time for spring, they're starting on new beginnings. I also see several books with horses, some cats, and a Jane Austen retelling. Click through to see which ones you might enjoy!

New Beginnings in Women's Fiction

Now, back to uncovering the stories...

...and writing the words. I have loved these particular characters for years, and I'm working hard to find the way to tell their story. Sometimes this part of the process is more like sculpture than painting — chipping away to discover the clarity of the story.

Curious? I'm putting a photos of my weekend getaway below, and then a secret sample of the story I'm working on now. It might change completely before it's published, but I want to give you all something special as a thanks for being here with me!

Happy reading,

Christy (& the Shelties, from a distance)

All my books

The grand staircase. Wouldn't you feel like you're in a Regency?

It was raining this morning so I haven't sat out here to write yet

I am going to explore this pond as soon as I sent this newsletter!

I'm in the dining room right now, and this is the wall next to me. Note the cabinet of teapots, too.

I've always wanted a house with its own library, haven't you?

Actually, I love this music room even more. My husband and I used to fantasize about having a music room. The other side is sofas, games, and bookshelves, so everyone can hang out and relax while someone plays. I LOVE it.

In my Regency series "The Bonnet Brigade," all of the main women characters play the piano... and it means something different in each of their lives.

Just for fun, here is a short excerpt at the beginning of the draft I'm working on now.

Rose Thompson checked the address on the scrap of paper, glanced up and down the busy street, and banged the door knocker. Firmly. It was a gray day at the end of the wettest June that Rose had ever known in her life, and she was throwing away her last chance at being an honest, respectable, marriageable gentlewoman.

So she would not appear too eager, Rose turned to her maid, Fanny, standing a few steps below. Fat raindrops dripped off the edges of their umbrellas.

“This is the correct address,” Rose said, half a question.

“22 Hanover Square, ma’am,” Fanny answered. “It said that on the bit of paper in your hand. I checked it for you, remember?”

Fanny showed no emotion whatsoever that they were the only two bright spots of feminine color in a landscape of tall white buildings and black great-coats. 

“Henrietta was crying all morning,” Rose grumbled. 

At that moment, the door opened, and Rose turned back. She reminded herself to stand tall (she was not tall) and look haughty, or at least entitled. Rose did not know if the young man ushering them in was a butler or an under-secretary, or who on earth answered the door at an agent’s office. Ladies did not go to the business district.

He took their wet wraps, Rose’s card, and brought them to a pleasant parlor upstairs before asking if madam had an appointment. 

“I am here to see Mr Knight,” Rose said, too quickly. “This is Knight and Carmichael, is it not?”

He assured her that it was, as though it were perfectly ordinary that young ladies did not know which office they had wandered into, and assured her that he would go speak to Mr Knight directly. Rose and Fanny perched on the edge of a couch upholstered in navy damask. Rose looked around, curious despite herself—and despite herself, her mind flew to Owen. He had talked about designing the room for the personality within, for the mood of the occasion. This room was designed for feeling more serious than it was; dark colors, shining wood, and brass.

“Do you think gentlemen’s clubs look like this?” she asked Fanny.

“I really haven’t any occasion to know, ma’am,” Fanny answered.

Rose dropped her voice. “We ought not be here, should we?”

“It’s rather too late for that, ma’am,” Fanny said.

“Henrietta was crying,” Rose repeated.

“She usually does not cry,” Fanny agreed. 

At this point, the secretary returned and offered to bring them to Mr Knight. Rose put all thoughts of Owen out of her mind—after all, he had not even written back, and Henrietta was crying. She had a job to do. All the way up the stairs, Rose ran her finger back and forth across the heavy paper in her reticule. It was still solid, the seal still satisfyingly ridged, although the folded edge was growing fuzzy with her fidgeting.

The young man opened a door and bowed them in. “Sir, this is Miss Thompson, come—”

Rose had already crossed the room and thrust the paper at the gentleman behind the desk, realizing too late that the secretary was speaking and the gentleman’s hand was extended to shake hers.

Everyone smiled in polite confusion. Mr Knight inspected the page—which, as it had no writing on the exterior, could do him no good—and set it neatly on his desk. Rose reminded herself to stand tall and look haughty, and in adjusting her posture, stumbled on the rug.

Fanny and the secretary jumped forward. 

Rose scrambled to get her feet under her....

How does Rose convince them to do what she wants? She does, but the next line would be a spoiler so I'm stopping here!