Thank you RomCon for having me at your blog – I love talking romance, history and erotica to anyone who will listen.
I am watching FIFA World Cup soccer today and admiring the fit, beautiful men who seem to be part of every team. Historical writers also enjoy writing about fit, beautiful men of the time. Whether they boxed at Gentleman Jackson’s Pugilist Club, raced curricles in Brighton or hunted foxes in Derbyshire, our ton gentlemen were usually first rate sportsmen. We don’t always write about their pursuits but it is assumed that in addition to their ability to waltz perfectly, win big at the gaming tables and dazzle every woman of their acquaintance, our historical gents have it all. They could probably play soccer too, if necessary.
So let me tell you about my latest, Book Three in the Mad Duchesses series, titled Age of Innocence. My dear Ferdinand Ford is a ton gentleman and all around sportsman. But he has a secret.
I know we writers tend to portray our Regency men as rakes and scoundrels. Ferd has a small supporting role in the Wicked Affairs series and I knew at some point I was going to write about him – I just didn’t know his back-story until Lettie came to life as a widow looking for love after two unsuccessful marriages.
Here’s an excerpt: “Breathlessness wasn’t an uncommon medical condition unless one considered that Ferd was a young man in the peak of his physical prowess. He could box several rounds without feeling the strain at his chest. The roiling sickness he’d carried with him since the announcement of his engagement was akin to some dread disease.
It was all well and good to take a wife, but Ferd was not prepared to bed her. They had talked for nearly an hour the day he’d proposed and damned if he could remember a word of their conversation afterward. In addition to her eccentricity, was she also a Mesmer? He had stared into her eyes and been lost to reason.
As the carriage rolled toward St George’s, he remembered leaving the Duchess of Burnham’s home six weeks ago, climbing in the carriage and clawing at his breeches to free his cock. He’d barely had time to grab his linen before he’d spilled copious amounts of seed into the white kerchief. Afterward, he had breathed heavily as if he’d run the length of Hyde Park.
How would he act when the experienced woman used her many talents to arouse him?
How much worse was it going to be?
His first and only experience with a woman had been a tavern wench he’d purchased when he was seventeen. Humiliation wasn’t a strong enough word to describe the incident.
“My, aren’t you an eager fellow,” she had whispered in his ear as she tore at his shirt.
She was already naked and his cock was straining against his trousers. His emotion had been pure. Anticipation of his first bedding had him anxious and excited and randy enough to shag the ugliest wench in the district.
He enjoyed a mouthful of her small breasts, his hands squeezed and kneaded, but he wanted nothing more than to thrust into her slim body. It was all he could think about as her hands slid down his chest and pried open his trousers. He leaned back on the bed.
“What have we here?” She had gripped his cock in her hand and with one touch, she had him groaning, his release spewing in warm jets over his bare stomach. “A little quick out of the gate, aren’t we?” She laughed at him. “We got more time, honey. Give it a rest.”
It was his first time. Maybe he shouldn’t have expected a great performance but he was disappointed.
The second time he’d crudely shoved into her body and spilled just as quickly. She offered him another chance before his purchased hour was over. Again, his climax was outside her body. She was still laughing when he’d buttoned his shirt.
When he’d handed over her earnings, she said, “You keep it, honey. I didn’t earn a thing.” He’d thrown the money on the bed and never gone back again.
Nor to any other woman.
No amount of pleasure was worth the humiliation he had endured. His memories still caused red-faced embarrassment.
The years afterward had not improved his performance, not that he had tried with a woman. He thought about sexual intercourse—had obsessed about it at times. Women, with their looks and their daring dresses, regularly excited him. He had learned to keep his distance, to admire and not lust. That was going to be hard to do with a wife underfoot, in intimate quarters, with who knew what sort of wayward need pulsing through her experienced widow’s blood.”
Ellora’s Cave: https://www.ellorascave.com/index.php/authors/index/author/slug/eliza-lloyd/
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Eliza currently has several novels published with Ellora’s Cave in their historical line including several series: Wicked Affairs, Mad Duchesses and Birds of Paradise and Cold Play series in the Breathless line. Additionally, she has a new series of self-published historicals titled Body of Knowledge and a contemporary series titled Far From Home.
Eliza thinks romance writing is nearly as good as the real thing. Given her choice of professions, she would have preferred to be a 19th century archeologist, but she is perfectly happy living in the 21st century and comfortably writing about such romantic but inconceivably inconvenient times instead.
She enjoys traveling, movies, everyone else’s novels and a good meal out with friends on Saturday night. Her greatest flaw is that she believes there is such a thing as true love. Please don’t tell her otherwise.
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