i  really thought I knew the basics of how Book 2 was going to work. I had an idea of what happened first, what happened next, the two climactic points in the book. I knew what the heroine was like, and the hero had a minor, but rather important role in Book 1, and so I knew him too.

But I felt like I should start a little before I went through the major planned revision pass on Book 1–the one that will tie up all the loose little ends, and finish a few of the quieter chapters. Because if I needed to make any drastic changes, I’d like to know now rather than later.

Good thing I did that, because Book 2 as I’d envisioned it just wouldn’t work. Chapter one wouldn’t write, so I figured I’d write one of the scenes I imagined leading up to the Black Moment. And I did. And . . . I got the thumbs down from the critique partner, and we talked and I figured out that the hero was just not going to work in this story. I could change him a little bit, but not a lot. He had too much in common with the heroine, and he’d never be able to make her realize that she was just a little spoiled. Which she is. Because the hero was just a little spoiled, too.

Sir Barely-Appearing-in-Book One then stepped in. I knew nothing about him when I started writing the first chapter (except that in the original version of Book One, he was married–oops–not anymore!). I just knew what he was going to do. And he was just brilliant at it. He was so brilliant that I knew what he was going to do next, and so my heroine showed up at his office–yep, this one’s not a lord, either–and offered to hire him. She was supposed to hire him. It would have thrown them together for chapters and chapters. Except . . . .

Except he absolutely refused to go along, the damned stubborn man. He fought me every step of the way, insisting at every turn on his independent and pride. Every word she spoke rankled him, as it must have done. And so he tossed her out of his office. It was . . . so right.

In any event, Oliver has taken locution lessons, and can usually pass as a gentleman. But he’s from Leicester–a city I chose because Richard Armitage is from Leicester, and he claims to have used his native accent in “North and South,” and so I shall have to remind myself of what it sounds like by listening to him speak over and over again (grin)–and it creeps out from time to time. While trying to figure out how to describe the speech, I came across this incredible site:

(Whoops: Here it is: http://www.bbc.co.uk/voices/)
These recordings are obviously modern, but they’ll give you an idea of rhythm, cadences, vowel sounds. It’s absolutely stunning in scope. For the most part, if your characters are members of the ton, they’ll be talking the “proper” English that we all know and recognize. But if you need a little color, this is a great place to start. Certainly better than dialect websites that classify isoglosses and nurse/square mergers, none of which your characters will think about in speech.

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