Guest Post | Pantaloons and Petticoats by Ellie Thomas

November 12, 2023November 10, 2023 ~ Ofelia Gränd ~ Leave a comment

Today we have the lovely Ellie Thomas back on the blog. Keep on reading to learn more about her most recent release, Pantaloon and Petticoats. And as always, welcome Ellie, it’s a pleasure to have you here 😊

Pantaloons and Petticoats Promo 1

Thanks, lovely Ofelia, for having me as your guest again! I’m Ellie, I write MM Historical Romance novellas. I’m here today to chat about my new story, Pantaloons and Petticoats, currently in the 20% new release sale at JMS Book until November 17th.

In Town Bronze, the first book in this three-part series, my MC Jasper discovered a surprising propensity for spanking with older gentleman, Sir Mortimer Cleverly. During Petticoats and Pantaloons, Barney Marshall meets his match in Rose and gets a surprise during their first intimate encounter. In the daytime, Rose must dispense with their nighttime petticoats to become Ross, a banking clerk.

Ross may have been born male, but identifies as female, embracing that identity whenever possible at night in the playground of Covent Garden and the shelter of their landlady Grace’s house in nearby Soho.

Although it was fun to return to Barney, who appeared as Jasper’s London roommate in Town Bronze, Rose’s character intrigued me while I was writing Petticoats and Pantaloons. I admired how they juggle a double life, enduring male attire at work to become Rose in the evenings.

In the eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries, cross-dressing was far from uncommon, particularly in the molly houses of Covent Garden, the equivalent of modern gay clubs. Despite the stringent laws and frequent raids, in the molly houses, bagnios, taverns and even Covent Garden Piazza, the gay community was vibrant and even defiant.

Rose might have friends and passing lovers but doesn’t expect to find love until meeting Barney. It was a joy to write how Rose finds all the respect and acceptance they richly deserve. Barney might be initially attracted to them for superficial appearances, but he falls in love with Rose as a person, however they choose to appear.

Pantaloons and Petticoats

Sequel to Town Bronze

pantaloonsandpetticoats Barney Marshall, the son of a wealthy manufacturer, is tolerated by London high society for his great wealth. In the autumn of 1812, Barney relishes all the high living and low indulgences of a young man about town in the fleshpots of Covent Garden.

In one of the many surrounding taverns, he encounters Rose. They spend a memorable night together despite Barney’s initial surprise that Rose is not all she seems.

Rose leads a double life as Ross, a respectable clerk at Coutts Bank. When Barney comes across Ross in his work setting and recognises him, complications abound.

Can these two find their way through the twist and turns on the path to true love?

Excerpt:

Barney steered Ross towards St. James’ Park, hoping that green space away from the crowded streets would convey his friendly intentions and give them a semblance of privacy. Even when they reached more leafy environs, Ross did not unbend. His gaze stayed firmly ahead and his cheeks, still smooth by late afternoon, were pale.

Once they were on a less populous path Barney began tentatively.

“It must have been a bit of a shock to come across me in the bank this morning. I assure you that it was pure coincidence. I only entered the bank to withdraw funds. It was a complete surprise to come across you.”

At least Ross was listening and showed no signs of fleeing. Bolstered, Barney continued, “Although seeing you was unexpected, it was fortuitous. I had hoped to bump into you, I mean Rose, in the tavern where we met, without any luck. If I hadn’t found you today, I was even considering braving the Dean Street house over the next few days.”

Ross still looked straight ahead, but his shoulders dropped a few notches at that declaration.

“Believe me,” Barney insisted, “I had no idea that you were employed at Coutts. If I had been aware, I wouldn’t have dreamed of accosting you at your place of work.”

They walked amongst the greenery in silence while Ross digested Barney’s attempt at reassurance. Covertly, Barney examined the subtle but distinct differences between Ross and Rose. In male apparel, Ross was on the short side, his features even but unremarkable, showing none of Rose’s spirit. That distinguishing factor was reflected in his drab office wear, his tamed curls appearing more brown than red and his hands bearing recent ink stains from his daily labours.

“I thought you’d followed me,” Ross said very quietly.

“Good God, no. You have my word on that. I couldn’t find you in Covent Garden so it would never have occurred to me to search for you on the Strand.”

The tension was easing from Ross’ slight frame. Encouraged, Barney said, “I’m sorry if I gave you a fright, but I’m glad I’ve caught you now so I could explain and ease any concerns you might have. I mean you no ill will.”

Ross risked a sideways glance at Barney as he continued, “I have to admit that I very much wanted to see you again.” He was rewarded by a flicker of warmth in those wary brown eyes, a glimpse of Rose peeping through.

“You can always leave a note in Soho with Grace for Rose any time. She’ll make sure it’s delivered safely.”

Distracted by the completely unfitting name for the dragon of the doorway, Barney missed the distinction that Ross had drawn between himself and Rose.

“Now I have found you again, I don’t want to let you go too soon. If you have some time to spare, perhaps we could repair to Dean Street together. I don’t mind waiting for you to don your skirts,” he added with what he hoped was roguish charm, “Since that seems to entertain and titillate us both.”

Ross whirled around to face Barney, his features tight with anger. With his chin raised and eyes sparkling hotly with indignation, he bore no resemblance to the timid clerk Barney had accosted outside the bank.

“How dare you. I’m not one of your actresses to amuse you with a change of costume to incite your lust,” he hissed. “Or some toy to array in a gown for the sole purpose of your entertainment. In future, I request you treat me and Rose with greater respect. If you’ll excuse me, sir.”

Ross gave a stiff bow and stalked away, the picture of affronted dignity. Barney stared after him, wondering how the interview could have gone so disastrously wrong.

Book links:

JMS Books :: Amazon :: Boooks2Read :: Add to Goodreads :: Add to Bookbub

Bio

Ellie Thomas lives by the sea. She comes from a teaching background and goes for long seaside walks where she daydreams about history. She is a voracious reader especially about anything historical. She mainly writes historical gay romance.

Ellie also writes historical erotic romance as L. E. Thomas.

Website: https://elliethomasromance.wordpress.com/

Facebook reader group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/8308047409266947

Twitter: @e_thomas_author

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/19835510.Ellie_Thomas

Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/ellie-thomas

Guest Post | The Monk’s Lair by Ellie Thomas

October 29, 2023October 24, 2023 ~ Ofelia Gränd ~ 2 Comments

The lovely Ellie Thomas is back on the blog to talk about her most recent release, The Monk’s Lair. Welcome Ellie!

The Monk's Lair Promo 3

Thanks, lovely Ofelia, for having me as your guest again! I’m Ellie, I write MM Historical Romance novellas, and I’m here today to chat about my new story, The Monk’s Lair, currently in the 20% new release sale at JMS Book until November 3rd.

It’s always fun to write about spooky themes for Halloween, but I have the additional challenge of writing historical stories because Halloween is a relatively recent festival. So this Halloween, for my Regency romance, The Monk’s Lair, I dipped into the rich resources of the Gothic novel where there is spookiness galore!

It’s really not possible to write a Gothic-inspired story without a sinister hooded monk popping up to threaten the central romantic couple. So I had to oblige and invent one! The setting for my story is the scenic area around Tintern Abbey in South East Wales. It’s a vista of thickly wooded hills soaring above the Wye Valley and very atmospheric for all kinds of Gothic goings-on.

Tintern Abbey was a monastic community founded in 1131 that thrived until its dissolution in 1536 and has been a picturesque ruin ever since. I discovered that in the 13th century, after the Black Death and massive population loss, many of Tintern’s monastic outposts or abbey granges were let to tenants.

One of these remote granges seemed the perfect place for a charismatic monk to terrify the local population with his evil ways and haunt the area for centuries in true Gothic fashion.

So when my MCs Christian and Sam stumble across the grange on a visit to Tintern Abbey, they inevitably reawaken this malevolent force. My two heroes make a great team, with Christian’s gifts of sensitivity and imagination added to Sam’s practical enthusiasm. Also, they manage to fall in love along the way. Hopefully, the combination of their talents and feelings for one another will banish the monk from his lair for good and all.

The Monk’s Lair

themonkslair

Christian Maxwell is used to being alone. A delicate and over-imaginative young man, he is abandoned to his own devices and company in his family’s Wiltshire country home. When his aunt, concerned for his well-being, insists on him accompanying her to the Welsh Borders for a country house party in the autumn of 1816, Christian is resigned to being surrounded by people for the duration.

One particular guest, Sam Gillespie, a handsome amateur scientist of a similar age to Christian, is determined to befriend him. When Sam persuades Christian to join him on an expedition to the scenic ruins of Tintern Abbey, they stumble across an isolated valley that contains a long-dead and sinister monastic force.

Their dreams are haunted by the spirit of the place, and so the pair band together to find out the valley’s dark history, kindling their romance along the way. But their ghostly foe is more tenacious than they could imagine. Can Christian and Sam manage to defeat the black monk and find lasting happiness?

Excerpt:

“I was informed that there are visible remains of the Elizabethan wireworks and marks of quarrying around these hills,” Sam said with zeal.

Christian was entertained by Sam’s constant thirst for knowledge. Rather than feeling diminished or drained by Sam’s more forceful character, he fancied his endless energy was a positive influence.

“Are you up to carrying on a while further?” The hope in Sam’s voice was irresistible. Christian was only glad of his regular rambles on his family’s land, although the South Wiltshire countryside was not as dramatic or steeply inclined as the Welsh borders.

They carried on until the road dwindled into a lane. Eventually, it forked, the upper reach climbing towards a collection of scattered cottages, while the other branch skirted the hill on a more even gradient. They decided on the more level option, walking until Sam espied a rough path leading downhill.

“I’m sure we’ll find something interesting around here,” he said, thrashing ahead through the undergrowth. “Harris informed me that there are several abbey granges hereabouts. But I reckon that by now, I can distinguish monastic medieval from industrial Tudor.”

Rambling with such purpose might not be Christian’s first choice of spending a clement afternoon. But it would be churlish to complain since Sam had shown him every consideration. He also found Sam’s brand of enthusiasm hard to resist, even when dampened with temporary frustration that his goal proved elusive.

Then there was Sam’s unfailing civility. Instead of forging ahead, he constantly paused to hold a branch to stop it from springing back into Christian’s face or warned him of an approaching patch of slippery ground.

As a result, Christian was disposed to enjoy their interlude. Venturing on a quest with a gallant young man was an activity he usually pursued between the pages of a book.

He was unable to pinpoint exactly when his optimism started to wane. They headed downhill on the increasingly overgrown path into a small cleft that Sam was convinced held buried treasure or at least the remains of past industry. At first, Christian enjoyed his surroundings. The dappled sunshine through the sheltering trees, their leaves still green and plentiful, was a welcome accompaniment to the faint breeze that cooled their progress.

Similar to a headache or nausea, the unease came gradually as they descended the slope, unremarkable until it became a definable presence. The equivalent of a whiff of something foul, a forewarning of a nearby corpse of a recently dead animal. Christian hesitated, wondering if his imagination was playing tricks. Then he became conscious of the unearthly silence around him. An ominous heaviness now filled the air, unalleviated by birdsong or a breath of wind.

Christian’s senses were on high alert, telling him to stop, to turn back, to leave this place at once. Not wanting to lose sight of Sam through the scarcely visible track, clogged by the summer’s growth of grass, nettles and brambles, he continued reluctantly until his premonition reached screaming pitch. Every instinct forbade him to trespass further.

“Sam, stop. I think we’re heading the wrong way,” he called urgently, hoping his voice didn’t betray the extent of his desperation.

Obediently, Sam came tramping back towards him, wiping his brow with his shirt sleeve. Christian was so occupied with his searing panic that he barely noted how dashing his companion appeared, his coat removed and tied by its arms around his slim waist, his sleeves rolled up to reveal strong forearms, lightly dusted with dark hair.

“You’re probably right,” Sam said. “I reckon we’ve come too far downhill. If there is anything to be discovered, it’s probably an outpost of the old abbey rather than anything worthwhile.”

Christian’s trepidation started to abate at Sam’s willingness to concede. Seizing the initiative, Christian led the way uphill. At least their advance was eased by the path they had already trampled.

Sam’s words lingered in his mind. They had instantly summoned an image of the disused grange in the depths of the small valley. Unlike Tintern, which had filled Christian with peace, this emanation held disquiet, even menace.

Books Links

Amazon :: Books2Read :: JMS Books :: Add to Goodreads :: Add to Bookbub

The Monk's Lair Promo 5

Bio:

Ellie also writes historical erotic romance as L. E. Thomas.

Website: https://elliethomasromance.wordpress.com/

Facebook reader group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/8308047409266947

Twitter: @e_thomas_author

Bluesky: @elliethomas.bsky.social

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/19835510.Ellie_Thomas

Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/ellie-thomas

Guest Post | Town Bronze by Ellie Thomas

August 13, 2023August 7, 2023 ~ Ofelia Gränd ~ Leave a comment

The lovely Ellie Thomas is back on the blog!!! She’s here to talk about her new release, Town Bronze. Welcome, Ellie! 🥰

Town Bronze Promo 1

Thanks, lovely Ofelia, for having me as your guest again! I’m Ellie, I write MM Historical Romance novellas, and I’m here today to chat about my new story Town Bronze which is currently in the 20% new release sale at JMS Book until August 18th.

Town Bronze is the first in a new series. I wrote the story as a one-off for the JMS Books Silver Foxes submission call and then it dawned on me that it could be expanded into a trilogy! This series takes place in Regency London, which may feel familiar to readers of my Twelve Letters series. Town Bronze is set in 1812, two years before the events of Twelve Letters but shares a similar setting. So I had great fun name-dropping some of my Twelve Letters ensemble cast!

The characters in my Twelve Letters stories are established in society before the series starts. But in Town Bronze, I had the idea of taking a young, gauche character and observing how the London Season impacts their entire worldview in a hopefully humorous way.

Jasper Goodhew, my MC in Town Bronze, has left university and has been kicking his heels in his family home in rural Somerset for several months. After receiving an invitation from some university friends, he gets the opportunity to escape to London for the spring together with a generous allowance from his parents. He anticipates endless parties, entertainments and adventures with the ladies.

But Jasper is totally unaware of his inner desires, and rather than a comely female, these are exacerbated by Sir Mortimer Cleverly, a man almost twenty years his senior.

I had great fun writing about Jasper’s awakening and his rabbit-in-the-headlights moment! However, it felt important to contrast Jasper’s clueless confusion with Mortimer’s measured and experienced point of view. This provided balance to a story about an unlikely couple embarking on a tentative romance that might surprise them both by proving to be lasting.

Blurb:

townbronze At twenty-one, Jasper Goodhew is delighted to be freed from his parental constraints in rural Somerset and enjoy the delights of Regency London during the Season. As a follower in the fast set that runs around young buck Julian Buchanan, Jasper encounters many pleasures, from the elegance of Mayfair parties to the tawdry entertainments of Covent Garden’s taverns and brothels. However, when he meets silver fox Mortimer Cleverly, he discovers a hidden propensity for spanking.

Sir Mortimer is a seasoned and experienced gentleman who can spot a confused innocent at a hundred paces. Yet he’s unable to resist Jasper’s clueless appeal at least once. He feels a lurking sense of responsibility when Jasper returns for more. Aware of the dangers of such a connection with a confused young man, Mortimer attempts to mentor Jasper, leading them onto the safer ground of friendship.

But will the combination of his increasing attachment and Jasper’s irresistible compulsion foil their best intentions?

Excerpt:

The next part of Jasper’s evening passed in patchy coherence. The older gentlemen departed with dignity almost immediately after Jasper’s inadvertent blunder. With his wine glass replenished more than once by a luscious attendant, Jasper almost forgot about the impact of that searing gaze.

He was vaguely aware of some of his companions departing with young ladies. Others were content to remain, drink deep, and dandle a damsel on their laps. Minutes or hours progressed in a pleasant haze until Jasper reached the point where he had drunk himself sober.

Relatively clear-headed and suddenly thirsty, Jasper rose on remarkably steady legs to fetch a glass of water from the drinks tray on the capacious sideboard.

This gave him a clear view of the entrance hallway. The vestibule was empty, apart from the three gentlemen earlier expelled from the drawing room by an excess of wit.

The gentleman with the remarkable hair was shaking the hands of his companions with a few congenial words. In that instant of seeming sobriety, it was terribly important for Jasper to make amends. He couldn’t have fathomed if this was due to his basic good manners and general inoffensiveness when not as drunk as a wheelbarrow. Or perhaps he was prompted by the infinite unimaginable possibilities in those haunting eyes.

He entered the hall as the gentleman escorted his companions towards the exit. Jasper stood uncertainly in front of the central staircase, awaiting his opportunity. Once his companions had departed, the remaining gentleman approached a further another doorway off the hall.

“Excuse me,” Jasper said, belatedly adding, “Sir.”

The gentleman turned, raising an inquisitorial dark brow that made him no less forbidding.

During Jasper’s formal education, he occasionally got into trouble. To be fair, these incidents occurred either from absent-mindedness or when he tagged along in the wake of more exuberant and imaginative students. Any resulting discipline, a removal of privileges or corporal punishment, was a matter of course and not taken personally. His sporadic visits to the principal’s study were desultory and instantly forgotten by the disciplinarian and the culprit.

This charged confrontation was entirely different. Jasper was unnerved by the swooping feeling in his belly as he faced his unknown foe. The older man drew closer but remained silent, his face expressionless, that implacable glare holding a sense of threat and thrill.

“I think I was somewhat discourteous earlier, and I wanted to say I was sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude. We were all getting rather carried away and had too much to drink. I know it was a bit much, and we were rather close to the mark concerning you and your friends. But I suppose you were young once too, eh?”

Jasper tried and failed to raise a placating smile. The gentleman didn’t move a muscle and stared at Jasper as though regarding a failed scientific experiment.

“I mean to say, I was a bit bosky, and I wasn’t thinking straight. Anyone with decent eyesight could tell that’s your natural hair. You’re nowhere near old enough to be wearing a wig. You’d have to be in your dotage. And you’re not. Naturally. No one would think you’re wearing a cauliflower of the wig variety, and it doesn’t remotely resemble an actual cauliflower. I don’t know why I said that. You have very nice hair.”

Jasper’s ramble stuttered to a stop. Without softening his expression, the gentleman said, “You were insolent.”

Jasper blinked. He suddenly grasped his opponent was slightly the taller and his lean build held latent strength. He felt paralysed, like a snake to its charmer, in thrall to the depths of that gaze.

“I think you deserve to be punished.”

Jasper gulped.

The gentleman’s voice was persuasive. “You’ve earned a good thrashing.”

In a husky tone Jasper didn’t recognise as his own, he said, “I’ll let you be the judge of that. I’ll do anything you require.”

That eyebrow rose again. A glint of humour lit those night-dark eyes.

“Anything?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know.”

Town Bronze Promo 2