The Jeweled Dagger Series by Diane Merril Wigginton 💕 Q and A & Gift Card Giveaway 💕 (Historical Romance)

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Would you keep a secret to save someone you barely know?

Angelina Stewart is a beautiful, bold, independent woman hiding a terrible secret. After returning home from a sea voyage, she is touted as a hero for saving her family’s ship and crew from a band of ruthless pirates, but Angelina feels like such a fraud.
At the same time, her psychic abilities are becoming more pronounced as she attempts to unravel the mystery of London’s gruesome murders before she becomes the killer's next victim.

>>>Captain Jude Deveraux is leading a double life

He and his band of French privateers steal, rob and plunder unsuspecting ships that have the misfortune of wandering into their domain. Awarded a title by the King of France for bravery during battle, The Duke of Bayonne, A.K.A. Pirate Captain, Jude Deveraux, takes what he wants from the world as he and his best friend, Honore live each day as if it were their last.
That is until the day Jude discovers that the only thing he truly wants is to capture the untamed heart of fiery tempered, Lady Stewart for his own.

>>>Angelina's Secret is the unforgettable introduction to the "Jeweled Dagger" series

As I looked about the room, I spotted Mary Wheatly, the bane of my existence. We went to school together. I thought her mean-spirited then and even more so now.
Her father, George, and mother, Prudence, owned two dress shops in the high-rent districts of London along with a millinery factory and two millinery shops: one for men’s hat needs, the other for fashionably well-paying ladies. They’d made their money by catering to the wealthy.
Mary was pleasant enough to look at, with her stylish blond curls fashioned high upon her head, and powdered. Personally, I prefer natural hair without all the goopy grease to make the powder stick. But then again, most people refuse to bathe, opting instead to douse themselves in perfumes, finding this a satisfactory option to washing. That’s when fans and scented hankies come in handy.
As I was saying, Mary was pleasant enough to look at if it wasn’t for her ghastly smile, and voice. Her voice was like two alley cats fighting it out in the middle of the night. It was so unexpected that it grated on the ears. Bad teeth and grating voice aside, my biggest objection of her was her attitude toward the so-called unwashed masses. Those Mary had deemed unworthy of her compassion and of little consequence to society.
The one person I do love beyond all else in this world is Sarah Burgess, my best friend. We grew up together as neighbors in London. Her father, Lord Burgess, was a member of the House of Lords at Parliament. He made his money the old-fashioned way. He married it.
Sarah was presently seated right next to Mary Wheatly, attempting to look interested in something the old girl was saying. Sarah’s delicate blue eyes caught mine from across the room as she pleaded with me to save her.
Feigning as if I were going to leave her in her present circumstance, I broke out the fan and began to fan myself until I noticed the daggers reflected in her eyes shooting my way.
Deciding Sarah had endured enough torture for one afternoon, I smiled and nodded to her, giving our well-practiced signal that help was on the way. I took a turn around the pastry table, picking out a lovely dish with the most scrumptious-looking piece of confectionery delight. With barely a misstep, I picked up the plate, fork, and napkin in one fell swoop and continued on my journey. I was on a mission of mercy and would not be diverted.
“Good day to you, Mary, have you tasted the scrumptious lemon cake yet? It is simply the best I have ever tried. Could I borrow Lady Burgess for a moment? I am in dire need of her opinion on something very important. Thank you so much.” Ambushing Mary quickly, and before she had the opportunity to gather her wits about her, I deposited the plate in her hand without even waiting for an answer, while pulling Sarah from the settee with my other hand.
“Of course, a piece of lemon cake would be lovely, thank you, Lady Stewart,” Mary replied, with a rather puzzled look on her face.
“Please excuse us,” I sweetly offered as I turned my back to her.

Haunted by a disturbing dream, she must face evils beyond her imagination

It is 1783 England and Isabella Deveraux is an independent, fearless young woman who has hardened her heart to everyone that mattered to her, until the night she experiences a disturbing dream about her twin brother, Charlie, on the eve of their 19th birthday. Charlie and his school mates have been abducted by the devil incarnate and she is resolved to do what ever it takes to save him, even if that means reconciling with her estranged family and placing her faith and life in the hands of an intimidating Irish mercenary Captain.

>>>A mercenary who will do just about anything, for the right price

Captain Aiden Townsend is more than willing to save the lives of three privileged schoolboys, for the right price. Jaded by his own devastating loss, Aiden has worked hard to keep his distance from the female persuasion until he is introduced to Lady Isabella Deveraux. As he sails his ship from England to Dublin, with the beautiful Lady Deveraux aboard, he formulates a plan to help her. But if his plan is to work, he must break through the walls that surround her heart while tearing down a few of his own.

My sweat drenched sheets clung to my body and convulsive shivers shook me to my core. I couldn’t think, nor could I stop shaking. Fear gripped me by the throat, zapping every ounce of strength I had. My limbs felt weak, like noodles that sit too long in a pot of boiling water.
My face felt swollen and my ribs hurt like I had just been through a terrible accident. I couldn’t explain why I was no longer connected to Charlie, or why my vision started, then abruptly ended. It was as if Charlie shut me out of his mind, shielding me from the horror that was about to befall him.
I sat on my bed for the longest time, consumed with grief and fear, trying desperately to form a coherent thought. Finally, I leaned over, fumbling in the dark, to light the candle that sat on my bedside table.
Climbing from the bed, I stumbled before opening the doors to my armoire, then began to rummage about until I found what I was searching for. Pulling out a pair of boy’s trousers, a shirt and a cap, along with the bandages I used to bind myself up, I quickly dressed.
Fumbling about, I found the old jacket and boots I kept in the back corner of my dressing closet. I always kept them safely tucked away for those times I wanted to ride without being recognized or bothered by social convention.
If Charlie had been killed, surely I would have felt something by now, like the splitting of a mighty oak tree by a bolt of lightning, I would have felt the confirmation of such an act. But I didn’t feel myself split in two. I simply felt consumed with grief for the horrific act perpetrated against my brother.
Slowly the feeling of rage began to stir inside of me, becoming all consuming as it mixed with desperation and the need to be whole again. My emotions propelled me forward, placing one foot in front of the other. Slipping everything but my boots on, I extinguished the candle and piled my hair under the cap. My disguise was now complete.
Ducking quietly out the door and down the hall to the back staircase, I listened for a moment, making sure that no one was wandering about this part of the hall. The only noise I heard was coming from the kitchen as the cooks prepared the bread for baking. I exhaled, realizing that I had been holding my breath, and my heart felt like it was going to pound its way through my chest. Tiptoeing down the stairs and past the cooks was no easy task, but I waited for the right moment and made my way to the side door.
Silently lifting the latch, I opened the door just wide enough to slip through, then closed the door behind me. I froze when the top hinge squeaked slightly, quickly closed my eyes, I said a little prayer. Then easing the latch back into place, I said another prayer that my absence wouldn’t be discovered for hours. By then it would be too late for anyone to do anything about it.
Stopping long enough to slip my boots on, I stayed in the shadows, just in case anyone was up rummaging through the garden for fresh herbs. Finally, making my way to the barn, I eased the heavy wooden door open, and listened for any noise of men moving about. When I was satisfied that the only noises were those of the horses shuffling about in their stalls, I pushed the door open wider.
Growing up with horses, I knew how to saddle one for myself, and didn’t require the help of a stable hand. The only thing left to do now was to pick the right horse for the long ride to Oxford. I needed a horse with lots of heart, and not one that had gone barn sour, or become fat and lazy. No, I needed a horse that was willing to run and not stop until I had reached my destination, and I had just the right horse in mind.
Making my way along the wall of closed doors, I peeked into a darkened stall, trying to make out the horse standing in the shadows. “Third stall on the right…oh sorry, Rosy, wrong stall, sorry girl,” I whispered shutting and latching the top of the door. “Must be the forth stall on the right.” I whispered to myself as I gingerly unlatched and opened the next stall door to check. “Yes. Good morning, Dodger, my handsome lad. I have an important mission for you today,” I whispered, greeting him with a gentle pat on the nose and a cube of sugar, before slipping a feedbag over his head so I could saddle him quietly.

How far would you go to save your best friend from a fate worse than death?

Olivia Townsend is willing to do whatever it takes to save Lilly from just such a fate.

The year is 1804 and Lady Olivia Sophia Allen Townsend has just turned 20 years old. She is beautiful, well-educated and considered by some in polite society to be far too eccentric for her own good. When Olivia was younger, she was very open about her gift. She is not only able to see spirits, but she can talk to them as well. Being shunned by her peers has caused Olivia to turn her back on those who need her the most - spirits caught between two worlds. That is until her best friend Lilly Collins comes to her in the middle of the night and asks for her help. Lilly can’t remember what happened to her and finds herself in need of Olivia’s unique gifts.

>>>Across the sea

Olivia’s younger sister, Coco, is also gifted with a unique set of skills - she can touch someone and know things about them that they would sometimes prefer to keep hidden. Together, the sisters set off on a sea voyage, from Ireland to America, intent on solving the mystery of Lilly’s untimely death.

>>>Southern elites, heirs to an empire

Brody and Quinton Beaumont are fine-looking, eligible, southern gentlemen, and heirs to a successful cotton empire. They also happen to be twins, hiding a deep dark secret. Their mother, Annabelle Beaumont, died eight years earlier on the night of their annual birthday winter ball, yet she continues to rule over their plantation home with an iron fist.
Olivia, who has never been drawn to any man, feels an undeniable connection to Brody Beaumont, but first, she must figure out if she can trust him, and if he or his twin brother Quinton had anything to do with Lilly’s death.

“Olivia, wake up,” the horse whisper sounded harsh next to my ear.
Slowly I opened my sleep-filled eyes and recognized my best friend, whom I hadn’t seen in months, “Lilly. What is it? What’s the matter?” I asked, with a degree of shock at seeing her dress disheveled and torn, standing in my bed chambers. Slowly sitting up in bed, I rubbed the sleep from my eyes.
“I need your help,” she said, pulling her shawl tightly around her slender shoulders and sounding desperate as she walked to the end of my bed.
Reaching over to the night stand, I struck the flint and lit the candle, while absently answering her, “Anything, Lilly. Name it,” I replied, turning back around to get a better look at her. As my eyes adjusted and fell on Lilly, my heart sank to my stomach, because I just realized that she was no longer among the living. She was now just one of the many spirits paying me a midnight visit before crossing over to the other side. Quickly bringing my hand to my mouth to keep from crying out, tears filled my eyes and all I could do was stare at her ethereal form. The feeling of loss was so raw it hurt. I swallowed a gasp, at least I thought I had. Lilly’s eyes flew to my face.
“What’s wrong? Why are you staring at me like that, Olivia?”
“What happened to you, Lilly?” I cried, feeling despair overwhelm me. “I have been inquiring after you for months now, but all your sisters would say is that you were away visiting a relative in England.”
“I can’t remember off the top of my head where I’ve been exactly, but I don’t believe I went to England,” Lilly replied, with a stricken look.
“Then tell me where you did go.”
“That’s just it, I can’t remember. The only thing I do recall is feeling happy and excited that I was going someplace. Ever since Mama died, I’ve wanted to be happy again, Olivia,” Lilly whined. “Truly happy!” she added, with emphasis, poking out her bottom lip slightly. “I grew tired of the mask I wore every day to appear happy to everyone.” Lilly clutched her fist to her belly, then, wringing her hands in her gown, she began looking around with confusion, unable to remember how she had come to be there.
“We will figure this out. I just need you to stay calm. I have something to tell you and I’m not entirely certain how you are going to take it,” I prefaced my next statement, while climbing out of bed and walking over to her.
“Don’t be silly, Olivia, you can tell me anything.”
“Forgive me for being blunt, Lilly, but I don’t know any other way to say this,” I stated, through sniffles while trying to soften the blow. “You’re dead, Lilly.”
“That is ridiculous, Olivia Townsend. You don’t know what you are talking about,” Lilly retorted, looking down at her bare feet and torn dress, before running over to the full-length mirror. I followed behind her with my candle in hand. “I’m so sorry, Lilly.”
“No, no, no, no, no, no…” she kept repeating, bringing her hands to her face in disbelief, when she couldn’t see herself in the mirror. Her celestial form began to fade before my eyes.
“Lilly. Lilly, come back here. I insist you come back here this minute!” I stomped my bare foot on the hardwood floor. “Oh please, Lilly, I promise everything will be alright.” I cried, holding the candle a little higher. “Please come back, Lilly,” I sobbed.
The door to my room slowly opened and I turned suddenly in surprise.
“Olivia?” Coco’s voice was tentative as she looked back over her shoulder before stepping into my room and shutting the door. “Who were you talking to? I heard you calling out to Lilly and thought maybe you were having a bad dream.”
“It wasn’t a bad dream, Coco. It’s was a nightmare,” I sobbed into my hands, slumping into the nearest chair, wondering what I was going to do next.
“I don’t understand, Olivia. Tell me about your nightmare,” she sweetly coaxed, setting her candle down on the dresser and kneeling beside me.
“Oh, Coco,” I gasped, placing the candle next to me on the little table and covering my mouth with the back of my hand.
“What is it, Olivia? What’s happened?” “Why have I been cursed with this ability?” I snapped, suddenly angry that I had been given the ability to see spirits. I’d always considered it a gift and a blessing to help people to cross over to the other side when I was younger, but lately it had become a curse.
“What are you talking about, Olivia?” Coco questioned, “I don’t understand. You’re not making any sense.”
“Oh, never mind,” she uttered, reaching out to take my hand and easily slipping away to the place she goes when she sought answers. Coco closed her eyes and fell silent. Quickly turning loose of my hand, Coco jumped to her feet and gasped. Her beautiful eyes registered her shock and horror at what she had just witnessed. “This can’t be, Olivia! I don’t believe it.”
“You don’t believe it,” I sniffed, “I don’t believe it!” “How did this happen to her?”
“I never got that far in our conversation. When I told Lily she was dead, she disappeared on me, and I don’t know where she went,” I cried again as tears trailed down my cheeks.
“But she is coming back?”
“Where else would she go?” I bluntly stated.

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How long have you been writing?

Answer: Since 2014

Do the characters all come to you at the same time or do some of them come to you as you write?

Answer: They develop as I write and as they are needed to build the plot or support the main character. I reach into my imagination, usually I name them and them visualize their face and personality.

What kind of research do you do before you begin writing a book?

Answer: I have notebooks full of research and it usually is extensive, especially for a Historical Fiction.

Do you see writing as a career?

Answer: Writing to me is like breathing. It simply something I must do.

Do you read yourself and if so what is your favorite genre?

Answer: Romance, Mystery, Historical.

Do you prefer to write in silence or with noise? Why?

Answer: I like quiet and usually retreat to my office and close the door, which is code for don’t disturb.

Do you write one book at a time or do you have several going at a time?

Answer: It totally depends on the number of ideas that come to me at once. I currently have two books going and another idea in my head, percolating.

Pen or type writer or computer?

Answer: Definitely the computer. It’s easier to move paragraphs around and add things in when you think of them to make the scene better or richer.

Describe your writing style.

Answer: All over the place. Historical Romance, YA Historical, Modern Romance to Suspense. I’ve even written 2 children’s books that I need illustrations for but I digress.

What makes a good story?

Answer: Conflict and three-dimensional characters that are real.

What are they currently reading?

Answer: Perfectly Mismatched with the Duke by Patricia Haverton / It’s my escape.

Do you try more to be original or to deliver to readers what they want?

Answer: Being original is always the best decision. If you wrote what was expected there would be no surprise and therefore boring to the reader.

If you could tell your younger writing self anything, what would it be?

Answer: Don’t listen to all the people who said “take the safe route,” and follow your dreams earlier.

How long on average does it take you to write a book?

Answer: 6 months to 1 years.

SHATTERED BY HEARTBREAK“When a heart breaks, it does not break evenly, cleaving in half exactly down the middle.” Surrounded by her large, boisterous family in 1840s Ireland, Lara Flannigan has never known anything but love and belonging—until the day tragedy strikes, leaving her abandoned and forced into indentured servitude.REMADE IN A NEW WORLD.Just when all hope seems lost, Lara is discovered by a childless American couple, visiting Ireland to aid in the famine-relief effort. With barely a chance to look back, she’s swept away to a bustling new continent—and a dizzying new reality. One of petticoats, opulent townhouses, and the cold reaches of Philadelphia high society. Desperate for a future, Lara works tirelessly to fit into her new life... while still haunted by a past that won’t let her go.Set in a fascinating historical period, Lara’s Story is a gripping young adult novel that explores the strength of the human spirit and the power of forgiveness to heal a broken heart.

I was born in Riverside, California in 1963. My family and I moved to San Diego when I was 7 and I never looked back. I had a very rich life growing up with my brother, David, and best friend Gigi. I married my husband, David in 1998 and we lived in Encinitas, California for a couple of years before moving to Herald, California in 2001. We have a blended family of 6 kids and truly enjoyed the rural life on a 5 1/2 acre ranch, 45 minutes south of Sacramento. I love writing and creating stories that are different from and intriguing. I like to give my readers a little something extra and unexpected. I have always wanted to be a published author, but the timing never seemed right. Raising a family and working fulltime always took precedence. Shortly after I turned 50 I decided that if I continued to put off my dreams, the time would never be right. So, with an idea in my head, I sat down and began writing. I wanted there to be no regrets in my life. What resulted was a historical romance, filled with adventure, suspense, and an underlying epic love story weaved in for good measure and "Angelina's Secret" was born. I loved everything about the process of writing and there are currently three books in "The Jeweled Dagger Series." I am very excited about the future and thrilled to be writing fulltime now since I retired from my "9 to 5," job at the end of April 2017. My husband retired shortly after me and our youngest was a sophomore in college so we decided that it was time that we had an adventure of our own. We made the move to Kalispell, Montana and the adventures just seem to happen every day. We go for hikes in our own backyard or take off for Glacier National Forest on a whim. We currently have seven grandkids, with another one due this August 2018. Being "Grandma and Grandpa" is the icing on the cake for us. I count my blessings every day because I know how lucky I am. Life is good and now I can devote my days to doing what I really love, and that is writing and creating more stories.