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Showing posts with label tarot cards. Show all posts
Showing posts with label tarot cards. Show all posts

Wednesday, September 27, 2017

#FASHION WITH GUEST AUTHOR ANNA DURBIN ON WHAT THE WELL-DRESSED REGENCY LADY WORE

Regency era walking dress
Anna Durbin grew up reading sagas of gallant heroes and spirited heroines and began crafting her own elaborate stories in her imagination at a young age. It was only natural that she would one day write them down. She also enjoys weaving the symbolism of the tarot deck into her storylines. Her first novel, King of Swords, was a 2012 Golden Heart® finalist. Learn more about Anna and her books at her website. 

It’s March 1816. You’re Lady Cassandra Gardner, and you’re attending a house party in the Lake District. You’ve just had a heated discussion over breakfast with the gentleman who broke your heart years ago. Essentially, he won the argument, so you decide to go for a walk to clear your head. What do you wear?

First of all, a lady couldn’t go anywhere without the basics—her undergarments. Since you’re already up and about, you’re already wearing your shift, stays, and petticoat (in that order). A shift was a short-sleeved or sleeveless white garment worn beneath everything else. It most closely resembled what we think of today as a slip. Over the shift, you’ve fastened your stays. Regency stays were similar to Victorian corsets, only more comfortable and with less boning. They were designed more to lift and augment the bosom than to cinch and shape the waist. Next came your petticoat, which was a full length sleeveless garment made of linen, flannel, or cotton that frequently featured a decorative hem of lace or ruffles. This hem was designed to show beneath the outer gown. Note that you wore no drawers because drawers were considered racy at the time.

You trade the silk stockings you wore to breakfast for a pair of warm woolen ones, since it’s likely to be chilly outside. Garters that were tied, hooked, or buckled either above or below the knee hold your stockings in place.

You wore your morning dress down to breakfast, but since you’re going out, you must change into a walking gown. Regency ladies had dresses for every occasion, including dresses purposefully made for walking out of doors. These dresses were made to be seen, so they were fancier than a basic morning dress. Fabrics chosen for walking gowns varied from muslin to velvet, depending on the season. White was a favorite color, though other colors were often displayed in fashion plates of the day.

Your walking dress emulates the high-waisted neoclassical style so popular in the Regency Era with a closely fitted bodice ending just below the bust and a skirt that hangs straight down the body. The Regency silhouette was simpler than the fashion silhouettes of the earlier Georgian or the later Victorian periods. Whereas Georgian and Victorian fashions called for all sorts of embellishments to be worn beneath the outer dress to enhance the silhouette, such as paniers, bustles, and crinolines, Regency ladies wore just a basic shift and petticoat beneath their dresses.

Now that you’re dressed for walking, you’re ready to step into your half boots for outdoors. Regency Era boots were often made of nankeen or kid leather, and sometimes, even denim. Unfortunately for women of the day, their shoes—including their boots—were not very sturdy. Half boots were an improvement over dress slippers for outdoor wear, but they were still not very resilient.

Before going outside on a chilly March day, you put on your pelisse, or your coat. You then slip on your kid gloves and don a bonnet to protect your delicate ivory complexion from the ruthless rays of the sun. You grab your reticule in case you need your handkerchief, hussif (sewing kit), or box of comfits while you’re out. And let’s not forget about your Tarot cards! As Lady Cassandra, you never go anywhere without your Tarot cards.

Ready to face the elements now, you head outdoors for an isolated country lane to forget about the disastrous conversation you had at breakfast. The last person you want to run into is that pesky gentleman with whom you argued earlier, but he is the first one you meet. Naturally. You can’t say how you feel about the situation, but at least you look marvelous.

King of Swords

A fiercely independent spinster who desperately needs assistance . . .

Lady Cassandra Gardner will inherit fifty thousand pounds when she turns thirty, and just in time. She has a special purpose for her money, one no man could understand. But when her brother the duke tries to cheat her out of her fortune, she has no choice but to accept the help of the man who shattered her heart years ago.

A gallant nobleman who can’t resist rescuing a damsel in distress . . .

Lord William Poniard is looking for a wife, but the last woman he should consider marrying is his archenemy’s sister, the woman who hates him with a vengeance. Yet, when she is compromised by a silly nitwit, he sees an opportunity not only to rescue the lady by marrying her but also to exact revenge on the duke for his past betrayal.

Will she accept his offer of help and at what cost?

Sparks fly between them when their attraction to one another ignites into a passion neither saw coming. Will one night of rapture unite them or drive them apart? Can she forget past wounds and let him into her heart? And can he convince her that she is the only woman he wants?

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Thursday, August 11, 2016

BOOK CLUB FRIDAY--GUEST AUTHOR MELISSA BELLE ON #TAROT

Contemporary romance author Melissa Belle wrote her first novel riding through Europe on a train. She travels as much as possible with her husband (and first reader of all her stories), dances in a belly dance troupe, and is a professional tarot and oracle card reader. She also loves songwriting, hooping, and her two rescue kitties. And cupcakes. Learn more about Melissa and her books at her website.

Readers often ask me, “What actually happens in a tarot reading?”

Both of my contemporary romance novels feature tarot readings given by a professional intuitive (or psychic, as many people know them by). I didn’t originally plan for tarot to be such a big theme in my writing, but as a spiritual intuitive coach and tarot reader in my day job, some parts of real life end up slipping into my fiction.

“Do you predict the future?”

I can’t speak for other spiritual counselors, but in my own work, I get answers from the angels and other spirits about whatever questions my client asks. I don’t predict the future, I don’t change fate or destinies (I reserve that for my novels!), and I don’t give threatening or scary prophecies. I’m there to support the client by delivering any guardian angel messages with accurate and gentle guidance.

Today I’m doing an example of a one-card reading, for anyone who’s interested in some extra guidance. What’s wonderful about tarot and oracle card readings is that they’re meant for anyone who sees them. When I chose this card, I did so with specific instructions that it be the right card drawn for this blog. So if you are reading this today (or whenever you happen to find it), it is meant for you! Use your own feelings to trust what the angels want you to know, but I will provide some specific guidance below.

The card I pulled (see picture) is “Let Go.” I like to refer to this as the “unclench your fist and let the good in” card. Whatever first comes to mind when you read this message is where you need to put your attention. An unhealthy relationship or experience should be released to make room for something better. A key meaning of this card is usually linked to manifestation: if you want to manifest something and it’s been eluding you, let go of your worries. Ask for help with prayer, meditation, or writing down a list of intentions, and then release it. This card is often pulled when a client has been holding on very tightly to how you picture your dreams happening: state your goal and then let go of the way you think it should or expect it to happen, and leave the rest to your angels!

Austen’s Independence Day

What if you don’t find your Mr. Darcy… until you’ve already lost him? It is universally acknowledged in the tiny town of Austen, Texas that Macey Henwood will never get married. When your hometown is obsessed with freeing Jane Austen’s ghost from the local bar, staying single feels like the only way to stay sane. But then Morgan Thornbrush, her lifelong best friend with benefits, gets engaged out of the blue, and it drives Macey crazy, especially when the town anoints the new couple Mr. and Mrs. Darcy. Now she’s smack in the middle of a wedding she wants no part of. From “bonding” with Morgan’s bombshell fiancĂ© to helping him let go of their complicated past, Macey’s forced to face the truth—the perfect arrangement she had with Morgan is over. But when the pages of an explosive diary ignite fireworks between her and Morgan as his July fourth wedding approaches, Macey must make a life-changing decision. Can the town’s version of Mr. Darcy really be the man for her after all?

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Thursday, April 21, 2016

BOOK CLUB FRIDAY--GUEST AUTHOR MARI MANNING

Mari Manning is the author of several contemporary romances and three romantic suspense novels set in the Texas Hill Country. Stranger at My Door is the first in her A Murder in Texas series. The second, Stranger in My House, later this year. Learn more about Mari and her books at her website

How Tarot Cards Ended Up in My Latest Romance
I
 attended one of those old Catholic colleges located in the middle of a large Midwest city. For a restless suburban girl whose most traumatic experience was watching her Siamese cat murder the chick she’d just brought home from biology class, living in a down-at-its heels neighborhood on the edge of a major downtown was an adventure.

On a side street near the campus, I found a little occult shop one day. I was a good Catholic girl who did not subscribe to ghosts, Ebenezer Scrooge not withstanding. Still, I hesitated to poke my head inside although I was curious. So I walked past. A few days later I strolled by the shop again. I did not go in. The third time I approached, a beautiful girl came out. Tall and slender, jean shirt, paisley scarf tied in her long hair and college knapsack hanging from her shoulder.

I went in.

Lots of books, lots and lots of rocks, incense and tie-dye. Ordinary stuff, but I kept my arms at my sides and touched nothing. At one point, I had the urge to make the sign-of-the-cross, but restrained myself.

A girl with black hair and makeup and wearing a tie-dyed T-shirt stood at the counter.

“Can I help you?”

“Just looking.” That never sounded so stupid. I realized I wasn’t afraid of the stuff in the shop, I was afraid of connecting with the people in the shop. Magic was hocus-pocus. I knew it. Nevertheless, now that I had been discovered, I began to meander purposefully toward the door.

She held up a small red box. “Tarot cards,” she said. “Lots of fun at a party.” She cracked a smile. Literally.

“How much?” I was an impoverished student.

“Four-ninety-five.”

Was it those mysterious rocks or the patchouli-drenched air or her pale eyes peering at me through a thick circle of eye shadow? I don’t know. But I plunked down my beer money and bought them.

She was right. They were fun. But they were also revelatory. People open up when you guess at their lives. When you face them one-on-one and say, “Let’s talk about you,” it is universally agreeable.

Were the cards magic? Not in the way you might imagine. But, if you can sense a melancholy air, you might guess someone is sad or preoccupied. A man who is older than the other students and limps might be a veteran. A girl with a Polish accent might have had a rough journey. You hint at those possibilities, and they see a chance to explain themselves or share what they cannot say elsewhere. The cards establish an intimacy, and I’ve treasured all the stories I’ve heard while “reading” tarots.

After college, as I began to write, I found my muse returning to that box of cards and the lives it opened up for me. I gave some of my characters the same gift. Dinah Pittman in my recently released romantic suspense, Stranger at My Door, reads tarot cards. I have started a mystery series in which my sleuth, Lousann Linkous, is a tarot card reader who lives in an old house and has a neon sign in her front window. A character in my second romance, Angel Without Wings, is based on the veteran I met at a party in college.

I’ve never been back to the occult shop or entered another one. I never saw the beautiful girl again, although she must have gone to my college. I’ve passed other shops and always thought, No need to stop. I got what I wanted the first time.

Stranger at My Door
The only thing standing between Dinah Pittman and disaster is a man she can’t trust …

As far as Dinah Pittman is concerned, men can’t be trusted. Especially cops. Her own father was a cop and a convicted felon who stole a small fortune before dying in prison. The best part? No one knows where the money is…and someone is willing to kill off everyone who knows anything about it.

And Dinah is next.

Rafe Morales left the Dallas police force to settle down to a simpler life in the small Texas town of El Royo. Instead, he finds himself protecting an infuriating, tough-as-nails, oh-so-sexy victim—and driving himself crazy with a thoroughly unprofessional desire.

But as the body count rises, Rafe and Dinah must find a way to trust each other…before they both end up dead.

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