Syfy Developing ‘Krypton’ Series

Syfy Developing ‘Krypton’ Series From David S. Goyer & Ian Goldberg

Category : News, US News
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KryptonSyfy is continuing their aggressive push back into scripted.

The NBCU owned cable network is developing Krypton, an hour-long drama series set in the DC Comics universe from David S. Goyer and Ian Goldberg, TVWise has learned.

Krypton is set years before the era of Superman, when the House of El was shamed and ostracized. This drama follows The Man of Steel’s grandfather as he brings hope and equality to Krypton, turning a planet in disarray into one worthy of giving birth to the greatest Super Hero ever known.

Ian Goldberg, whose previous credits include FlashForward and Once Upon A Time, is penning the script; while The Dark Knight‘s David S. Goyer, who recently stepped down as showrunner of the Starz series Da Vinci’s Demons, will executive produce.

The project is set up at Warner Bros’ cable division Warner Horizon Television, who, alongside Ridley Scott’s Scott Free Productions, are also set to produce a miniseries adaptation of Arthur C. Clarke’s 3001: The Final Odyssey for Syfy.

Krypton is the latest project to get traction at Syfy since they recommitted themselves to scripted drama more than a year ago. The network is also developing a wide range of projects including alien terrorism drama Hunters; a series adaptation of Lev Grossman’s novel The Magicians; and space opera series Dark Matter from Stargate veterans Paul Mullie and Joseph Mallozzi.

Margaret with the Red Book pt 15

Margaret with the Red Book
Margaret with the Red Book

A John Thornton / Margaret Hale Fantasy Novel

Download PDF of this book for $3.00 US – Paypal

Chapter Eight


Margaret was sitting at her desk in Katie’s office reading the book shortly after dinner. A gentleman was escorted into Katie’s office. John Thornton stopped in mid walk to Katie’s desk when he saw Margaret sitting at her little desk.

Being aware it was not Katie who had just entered she slammed the book shut. Standing, she walked around from her desk and recognized the very handsome client from her first days there. She started to stutter her own introduction but said instead, “Hello, Sir. I shall go and find Miss Leeds for you.”

“Could you wait just a moment, Miss?” John wanted to take her in, thoroughly. He had never seen her in town before. She was very pretty if not close to exquisite. He wondered if she was one of the girls from the house.”

Margaret had stopped at his request. “I am sorry, sir. I do not work with the scheduling or interviewing.” Margaret felt like butter, especially after reading her current material. For a moment she thought she understood the term lust. She knew she had to rush out of there quickly.

“I just wanted to ask . . .,” John started to say as he watched her fly by him before he could finish his question. “Dainty little thing,” he said to himself. “Shy? That just doesn’t fit in a place like this. I wonder who she really is,” he asked himself. He casually took a step near her desk and recognized the red book she had been reading. He did not know French but the book had circulated among the Masters like a Bible. He almost blushed to himself remembering that book from a very long time ago. He had to admit the knowledge gained from it had made a big difference in his life. But why would that young lady be reading it?

Margaret found Katie out back reprimanding Joy for something she said to a client.

“But Miss Leeds, he degraded me,” said Joy.

“Yes, Margaret, what is it?” Katie asked, looking up at her standing on the top porch step.

“I believe his name is Mr. Thornton. He’s in your office. I am afraid I rushed out of there.”

“Is that why your face is so red or is it another reason,” Katie laughed. She lifted her gown hem from the dewing grass and headed back inside.

“I am sorry, Katie. I hope I have not caused any harm by rushing out. I was reading that red book and just felt overcome seeing him standing there watching me read it. I could not be more embarrassed. Maybe he did not even notice it or has no knowledge of it.”

“I am sure he will ask about you, then. If I call you in, I shall introduce you as just Margaret, a friend staying to help me. I shall not say your last name until I am sure it has been long enough for everyone to have forgotten the news headlines.”

“If you can avoid calling me, I would appreciate it. I shall come, though, if called,” said a hesitant blushing Margaret.

Katie knew there was something with Margaret and her feelings toward Mr. Thornton. She was like any other woman in this town that ever saw the man. Katie knowing them both, thought they would do well together but never under the roof of Miss Leeds Ladies. John Thornton had a reputation of being a very compassionate man. He would be just the type of man to understand and easily accept her history, but there was still the mystery of what type of woman he would favor as a wife.

John was seated in front of her desk when Katie came through the door. He stood immediately halfway expecting the other young lady to follow her. He was a little disappointed when she did not.

“Nice to see you again, Mr. Thornton. I hope your business trip was successful a couple months ago,” Katie said in a questioning tone.

“The Annual Mill Master’s Convention is hardly ever successful. It is more of a bargaining meeting bringing Mill Masters, Cotton Growers and Shippers to the same table to work out pricing for the next year. The cotton people are more affected by the weather and the ability to find people to work in the hot fields, at least in the United States, it seems. They are our biggest supplier, but I know you are not interested in hearing that.”

“How can we help you, Mr. Thornton?”

“I would like an appointment for next week if that is convenient.”

“Would you like to see Lucia again?”

“Well, I saw a young lady sitting at that desk over there when I came in. Is she a new lady that you have added to your employees?”

“No, Mr. Thornton. She is a dear friend. Believe it or not, I was once her governess.”

John was taken aback. Miss Leeds, a governess? The young woman must be a Lady. What could have brought her here with her governess running a brothel? This was as mysterious as the noble coming. He wondered if the two were connected.

“I must confess I find that confusing. Is she living here with you or maybe visiting? I see she has a desk.”

“Very astute of you, Mr. Thornton.” She has fallen on hard times and only had me to turn to. I am helping her get back on her feet. She shall leave me someday and I shall miss her, but I think she plans on remaining in Milton.”

“But, if I understand you correctly, she does not help you on the second floor?”

“That is correct. She is running the house and has no connection with the business except for teaching several of the girls and our driver how to read and write.”

“I see she’s been reading the red book. I think every man I know has passed that around in our younger lives even though we could not read it,” John smiled. By the time I got it, the important pages were nicely dog-eared, saving me time.” They both laughed.

“It is nice to hear you have read it. It teaches men a lot about the female along with the erotic story.”

“Oh,” John said chuckling, “there’s a story? No one could read it.”

“Yes, and Margaret is actually reading it,” Katie said off-handedly realizing she had said Margaret’s first name.

“Would you care to meet Margaret? Katie asked, wondering if she could initiate some interest between the two.

“Yes, if she would not mind.”

Katie left her desk and John stood waiting for her return with this Margaret woman.

When Katie found Margaret outside, she called to her. Margaret walked up to her side. “Margaret, Mr. Thornton would like to meet you. Now, keep your head held high and look like the Lady you were trained to be.”

“But I shall play the fool. I cannot appear to be anymore than I am at this moment.”

“Now, you hush that mouth right now. You are still a Lady through and through. Just because you have suffered downfalls in your life that were beyond your control does not make you any less of a Lady.” Katie grabbed her by the hand and pulled her inside.

Margaret tried to keep her head from at least lowering as she came into the room behind Katie.

John turned towards them as Katie said, “Margaret, this is Mr. John Thornton.”

John reached out his hand, surprised that Katie had not given him her surname.

Margaret took his hand, shook it lightly and felt his resistance in giving it back to her. Her heart was pounding. She was sure it could be seen through the top of her bodice, beating heavily. “Good evening, Mr. Thornton. Please call me, Margaret.”

“If that’s what you prefer, I shall.” He did not offer her entitlement to call him John. Not yet, anyway. “I understand Miss Leeds was once your governess?”

Margaret snapped a look at Katie, almost a frown. She was stunned that Mr. Thornton had been told such a thing. It had immediately given rise to her earlier life and she did not want to go there with a stranger. “Yes, she was. I can say she taught me everything and still is.” Margaret knew that sounded like piffle but she was speechless. She did not think she could look up into those eyes much longer without swooning.”

John sensing the embarrassment of her hard times changed the subject. “Do you read French, Margaret?” He asked smiling. He thought it would change the heavy atmosphere in the room, but he was not sure if he had not made it worse.

Margaret quickly glanced at her desk and saw the red book. Apparently, Mr. Thornton knew she was reading it. Could this introduction get any more embarrassing? She did not think so. She realized she had lowered her head. Margaret stiffened her back and looked up at Mr. Thornton and said, “Yes, I read French.” Do you?”

“No, I am afraid not. In my business I have never found a need for it. But if I ever need a translator, I shall know where to find one.” He thought that would settle the waves in the room. He could not help but find a flutter of interest in this little woman. And he was quite intrigued that she should be reading that book. He could not actually remember the title of the book as everyone had referred to it as ‘The Red Book’ as that was its color . . . the color of passion.

“I won’t detain you any longer, Margaret. It has been nice meeting you and knowing of such a nice young lady that Miss Leeds brought forth to Milton.” He could tell she was uncomfortable.

“Thank you, Mr. Thornton. It is been nice meeting you, also. Have a pleasant stay here,” Margaret finished and hurried out of the room.

John turned to Miss Leeds and sat down in the chair again. “She seems rather a shy young woman,” he stated.

“Actually, she is not. You are probably the first gentleman that she has spoken to her in a year and half. And the last one . . . well, I won’t go into that. That shall be for her to discuss. Anyway, due to her current circumstances, she doesn’t feel worthy of meeting a gentleman.”

“So, you are saying, she was raised as a Lady?”

“Yes, I am.”

“I won’t pry but it must have been a great misfortune, indeed, to have happened to her.”

“Misfortunes,” Katie said, emphasizing the plural.”

“Not just because I raised and taught her, but she’s experienced the worst cases of misfortune I have ever known to befall someone. It is quite tragic.” Katie paused. “Now back to your appointment.

She was interrupted from her train of thought.

“Do you think I could be of any financial assistance to the Lady? John asked.

“I do not believe so, Mr. Thornton. She is too proud.”

“I realize that you did not give me her surname. Was that intentional?”

“Yes. I shall leave it at that.”

“I believe I have figured out who she is. I was at the Milton Grand the evening you visited the noble at his table. I shall not ask any further questions.

“Thank you, Mr. Thornton.”

“I was well pleased with Lucia, but you said there was another lady that was similar. What is her name?”

“That would be Kat. Of all my girls, she is the most quiet.”

“That’s what I am looking for. Please make an appointment with her.”

“Would next Tuesday evening suit you at 8:00 p.m.?”

“That shall be most agreeable. Thank you. I shall leave you now. Good evening, Miss Leeds.” John turned for the door, hearing Miss Leeds reply her parting words. As John stepped out of the office door, he looked around to see if Margaret was anywhere in sight. She was not. John felt he had traded one mystery for another.

As John was walking towards the front door, he caught the eye of Master Steen waiting in the parlor. He would much rather have gotten away unseen but since that was not to be, John stopped and walked into the room.

“How are you, Craig?” John asked, shaking his hand and allowing him to continue to pace the carpet.

“My girl is a little late, so I am enjoying the fine wine they’ve recently been offering. Damn fine stuff compared to that old vinegar that used to be available to us. I have never seen you here, John. Do you visit often? I cannot imagine you needing to be here.”

“No, I haven’t been here but two times. And I do not have to be here. This is a bit embarrassing but it is been nice to get away from all the ladies once in a while.”

“Oh, so you like them wild, too?”

“Quite the opposite, really. Not being married as you are, the ladies I escort out seem to feel they want to prove something to me. They appear to think an intimate relationship is what I must be looking for and I tire of that. An intimate relationship, yes, but trying to overpower me and wear me out is not what I want in my life right now. It is complex and I rather just leave it there. I am still searching for the woman to be my mate in life. This shall not become a habit with me. The last time I was here was over two months ago.”

“I have been married to my loving wife for fifteen years and it sure sounds like there have been some great advances in wooing a woman now,” Craig laughed. “I know you are highly sought but I never thought it would become complex that you needed to find solitude here.”

John wondered why Master Steen was there, himself. He felt sure they had a good marriage. He did not feel he would ask the why. “I was just on my way out, so I shall leave you to your evening.”

“Before you go John, do you have a favorite girl here?” Craig asked.

“Only being her twice, I have only known one girl. Her name is Lucia.”

“Oh yes, Lucia. I usually ask for the wild one, Adrienne. If you ever want to really let loose and try things you would not dare ask your wife, you may want to request her. I only come here about every three months just to see what’s new with Adrienne. It has become a game more or less. I try to find something she won’t do but have had no purchase as yet.”

“That’s exactly what I am trying to avoid,” John laughed. I must go. I shall see you at the next board meeting. Good evening, Craig.”

“Goodnight John. I am sure I shall have a good evening.”

As John was leaving the parlor a woman with auburn hair and big beautiful eyes came into the room and put her arms around Craig, while clearly wearing very little. John thought she looked like a slave in torn clothing.

“You like, Master Craig? I am a slave and you are my Master. Come and make me behave.”

Upon John hearing that, he stepped outside. He did not want to hear anymore private words like that. It was a side of Craig that he had never seen. Maybe he wanted to play the overbearing Master, as John had once been accused of many years ago at his first mill.

The Magical Letter – Part One




One – He loves me, he loves me, still

The slender young lady sat at her escritoire and wrote her diary as she had been doing since the tender age of thirteen. So many thoughts just screamed to be entrusted to the paper that her small white hand was slightly trembling.


Bath, March 21th  1816


Is there a greater joy to be experienced than the one I, Anne Elliot, have received this morning?

On the doorstep of our house in Camden Place we have kissed, Captain Wentworth and I.

Frederick and I … Frederick, oh! What a joy to be able to call him mine! He is mine and I … I have always been his from the first moment I laid eyes on him.

We have kissed and I shall never be the same again.

I, plain, shy, discrete little Anne, have become a new person, a woman, who is loved! Loved, I am loved by Frederick Wentworth and we are to be married. Even as my trembling hand is writing this, Captain Wentworth is downstairs in this very house asking for my hand in marriage.

Never could I have expected to be so happy again …




Frederick Wentworth strode into Sir Walter Elliot’s drawing room, past the butler who barely stepped aside, and whose impassive face bore an expression of cultivated disdain. What a perfect imitation of the attitude of Sir Walter himself, he thought, and suppressed an amused smile.

Sir Walter was standing before the fireplace glancing fastidiously into the large mirror that hung overhead. He was making a great show of correcting tiny little details of his appearance in order to let Wentworth wait before he turned around to face him. The two men executed a bow, as propriety dictated.

“Captain Wentworth.”

Sir Walter’s voice was overly affected and absolutely devoid of emotion, not even showing the anger that shone in his pale grey eyes.

“Sir Walter.”

Wentworth kept his own voice non-committal. He had no wish to alienate Anne’s father, a fact which would upset his dear girl.

“I confess I am at an absolute loss as to the reason why you came to see me, Captain. My time is extremely taken so I must insist on you being succinct. I am due at the Pump Rooms at eleven o’clock.”

Wentworth asked himself how on earth it was possible that this arrogant, cold, vain man could have fathered his sweet, compassionate Anne but he replied in a civil tone.

“Sir Walter, eight years ago,  Miss Anne and I became attached to one another and, had it not been for my lack of means to support a wife, we would have married. My circumstances have thoroughly changed and my current means are substantial enough to do so. Anne has agreed on becoming my wife and therefore, I would like to ask you for her hand in marriage.” 

“My daughter Anne,” Sir Walter barked, “has never paid me the respect she owes me as her father! She has rejected an offer of marriage from Mr. Elliot, her cousin, thereby offending not only him but also me, her father! Moreover, by doing so, she has deprived me of the only way left to me of resuming my ancestral seat of Kellynch, which would have been restored to me, had she become Lady Elliot. I am now condemned to selling my home and to being forced to live here in Bath for the rest of my life. I shall not give my permission to this unholy union, sir!”

Wentworth eyed him in an unruffled manner and replied coolly, “Since Anne is of age, sir, I did not come to ask for your permission. We were hoping for your blessing, but I can see that it will not be granted to us. Anne and I will therefore act as we see fit. I shall ask her if she will come and live with my sister and her husband Admiral Croft until the day of our wedding by special license a fortnight hence.”

Wentworth bowed curtly and left the room without a further glance at Sir Walter.


Anne just stepped out onto the landing when Wentworth came striding through the hall towards the front door.

“Frederick …”

Her voice trembled lightly because she did not know what had transpired in the drawing room but had a fairly good understanding how the interview must have gone. Wentworth turned a pale face to her and her heart wavered.

“Dearest,” he asked softly, “is there somewhere we can talk?”

Anne hurried down the stairs and took Wentworth to a small side room of the hall. He recognized it all too well. It was the same room where he had spoken with Anne the week before. They had been interrupted then, by Lady Russell, who despised him, and always had. Wentworth shook himself out of his dismal thoughts and took Anne’s hands in his. Fear stood very clearly in her soft brown eyes.

“My sweet Anne,” he urged, “would you consent in leaving this place with me on this very moment? I cannot bear the thought of you staying here and be subjected to the contempt of these people who call themselves your family. Accompany me to Admiral Croft’s apartments and stay there under my sister’s chaperonage until we marry. No one will consider this inappropriate.”

Anne sadly smiled and replied, “No, my love, I cannot do that. They are after all, as you pointed out, my family. I must bear with them for a fortnight only. I have handled them well in the past and I will do so for the days to come until we marry.”

Wentworth could not keep himself from taking her into his arms. She came willingly, resting her head against his chest. What a tiny, slender thing she was, he thought. The top of her head with its deep brown curls barely reached his chin and her delicate body, soft and round under his touch, was trembling against his hard-muscled seaman’s torso. The feeling of her hands sliding shyly around his waist drove a shot of longing through his body from head to toe, and his heart suddenly jumped! Dear God! How was he to endure those long fourteen days of waiting? He wanted her for so long, had never stopped wanting her through their years of separation.

“You are right, of course, my love,” he said hoarsely, “but I hope you will reconsider my offer of staying with Sophie, should your family treat you wrongly?”

Anne lifted her head and smiled.

“I will,” she replied, “fear not.”

He captured her mouth in a chaste kiss, and she did not asked for more. She accompanied him to the front door and Wentworth stepped outside. Adopting a sturdy pace, he set foot into the direction of his sister’s lodgings and, all the way, worrying thoughts were troubling him.

What would Sir Walter say when he came to know it was he, Wentworth, who had made an offer to buy Kellynch? More so, how would he behave towards Anne, as the unfeeling father would surely blame her for that?




BBC One Sets Premiere Date For ‘The Musketeers’ Season 2

Category : News, UK News

The Musketeers (First Look 2)The second season of BBC One’s The Musketeers will premiere on Friday January 2nd at 9pm, it has been announced.

Created by Adrian Hodges, The Musketeers is set on the streets of seventeenth century Paris where law and order is more an idea than reality and follows the three Musketeers: Athos, Aramis and Porthos who are far more than King Louis XIII’s personal bodyguards. They stand resolutely for social justice, for honour, for valour, for love and for the thrill of it. The drama series is being produced by BBC Drama Productions in association with BBC Worldwide & BBC America and stars Luke Pasqualino, Tom Burke, Santiago Cabrera and Howard Charles.

The Good Wife alum Marc Warren joins the main cast this season, replacing Peter Capaldi, who exited the show last year after he nabbed the lead role on Doctor Who. Warren plays new villain Rochefort, a man nursing many secrets and a very dark past. As the second season progresses the true nature of his plotting is revealed and everyone around him is drawn into his sinister web. Ultimately, only the Musketeers and their loyal allies and friends stand between him and a desperate act that will change all their lives forever.

Into the Woods

A new Disney Christmas Classic?  In theaters Dec 25th.

Meryl Streep, Emily Blunt, Johnny Depp and others


Set in an alternate world of various Grimm fairy tales, the film intertwines the plots of several Grimm fairy tales and follows them to explore the consequences of the characters’ wishes and quests. The main characters are taken from “Little Red Riding Hood”, “Jack and the Beanstalk”, “Rapunzel”, and “Cinderella”, as well as several others. When a Baker and his Wife learn they’ve been cursed childless by a Witch, they must embark into the woods to find the objects required to break the spell and begin a family. The film is tied together to the original story of the baker and his wife and, their interaction with the Witch who has placed a curse on them, and their interaction with other storybook characters during their journey. What begins as a lively irreverent fantasy musical eventually becomes a meaningful tale about responsibility, the problems and consequences that come from wishes, and the legacy that we leave our children.

Netflix Is Creating One Of The Most Expensive TV Shows In The World

Premiere  Dec 12th, Internationally

Netflix is preparing to launch its newest original series this month, “Marco Polo,” which focuses on the life of the famous explorer, including his interactions with Kublai Kahn.

It’s one of the most expensive TV series ever made, according to The New York Times, since it costs $90 million to produce 10 episodes. The only show with a higher budget is HBO’s “Game Of Thrones.”

But there’s another reason “Marco Polo” is so important for Netflix. The company is hoping the series will appeal to international audiences as it expands, especially since Netflix holds the international rights to “Marco Polo.”

Netflix didn’t hold any international rights to other popular shows such as “House Of Cards,” which is why the series was able to appear on rival platforms in Germany and France, according to The New York Times.

But offering a blockbuster show that subscribers — including those overseas — can only get through Netflix could help the company reach its goal of becoming a global company.

Netflix is already hard at work with its international rollout, but subscriber growth hasn’t been booming as much as many had hoped.

In October, following its European launch in September, the company reported that it had added 2 million international subscribers, which is below the 2.36 million estimate many were expecting. Domestic growth has slowed too, as Netflix reported 975,000 subscribers in the US versus the 1.33 million many were expecting.

This sluggish growth in the US makes international expansion that much more important for Netflix. Executives and producers working on the show told The New York Times they think the show will resonate with audiences overseas, especially since the plot focuses on a heroic journey all cultures can relate to. Netflix is also relying on the show to promote its streaming service in general as in enters new markets.

“Marco Polo” will debut on all of its global properties on Dec. 12. Check out the trailer below to get an idea of what to expect.

Margaret with the Red Book pt 14

Margaret with the Red Book
Margaret with the Red Book

A John Thornton / Margaret Hale Fantasy Novel

Download PDF of this book for $3.00 US – Paypal

“That’s all I knew to write, Miss Hale,” said Isabelle.

“Isabelle, it is a sad and true story but you did an excellent job telling me. You seem to have found some happiness in your work and that shall help you get through life a bit easier than others who do not like this business.

Her first finished interview with who she would call Colette went far better than she had expected. There were many surprises in what she was told. Margaret was still working on her own remarks, and how she had come to write on such a subject. Katie and Margaret seemed to agree, the best incentive to buy the book was that it was authored by a woman.

As Margaret had kept reading the books on the shelf, she finally found one that contained a beautiful love story along with the sensual side of their relationship. She had taken to fantasizing about such a man to treat her so tenderly and adore everything about her. The female character had also come from a low position although not a prostitute, but had found love with a wealthy handsome gentleman. If nothing else, Margaret knew she could have her dreams.


John and Nicholas were having their second dinner out this month. They were trying out a new restaurant that had recently opened called The Mill on the Pond. Someone had taken a very old waterwheel run mill operation and converted it into a very elegant place to dine. The waterwheel had been repaired and was in working order within part of the building. A long hall, probably a spinning room, had been replaced with windows so the customer could look out over the water that ran the wheel. It kept as much to the original look as possible with dark stained thick planks of wood for flooring and walls. The open ceiling had a huge beam still resembling the large tree that gave up its life to hold the wood shingled roof. Several fireplaces had been added to keep the building warm in the winter. Decorated around the room were bales of cotton. They were twined with rope instead of hemp as once they had been done. The main display piece was one of the first heavy wooden weaving machines that would have been powered by the water. Sitting next to that was a beautiful huge old spinning wheel which overtly showed the leap of man into the machine age. Many of the old hand tools hung from the rafters. The mill master’s desk was at the front where the head waiter worked his reservations.

“Nicholas, this place is very impressive. It is even older than my first recollection of our business. It is like stepping into a museum or stepping back thirty years in time. That reminds me I have been asked by the committee to go speak at the Great Exhibition in London next month. I believe we are going to show off the latest in equipment and have literature to give away about Milton’s opportunities. We are going to need several other Masters to share the time. Are you interested? You would be a good person to go with me.”

“How would that work, do you think?” Nicholas asked.

“I believe we’ll take four hour shifts from 10:00 a.m. to 6:00 p.m. We may need two at a time to work our area. We won’t be making any speeches. We’ll only be answering questions to people who have interest. The Manufacturers of the machines are donating money to our Chambers charity in lieu of payment to us. They’ll pay our transportation, accommodations, and meals. Their charitable fund is quite a considerable amount.”

“Yes, I am interested. Let me know the exact dates – a week you say – and I shall see if Peggy is all right with that. It might be a good time for her sister to come visit us. Maybe I can talk her into inviting her mother while I am away,” Nicholas laughed.

The head waiter came to their table with the libation menu. “Good evening, Mr. Thornton and Mr. Higgins. It is pleasure to see you have located our dining facility. Would you like a moment to look at the menu?”

“I am sorry, I do not know you. I am curious how you know who we are,” John asked.

“Sir, My name is Dalton – Jeremiah Dalton. We know most of the Masters, Sir, at least the ones that frequent The Dove and the Milton Grand Hotel. We trained at those places before we opened and the waiters there pointed out more of the . . . ahem . . . important people to know. I hope that doesn’t sound like I think it is sounding. It is just in this business you learn who to give a little more preference. I do not mean it to sound like it would benefit me financially, but who is more important in this city – what names mean a lot around here. I think I am digging a deeper whole. Perhaps, I need more training.”

John smiled and then laughed out loud. “Dalton, I would tell you that your first lesson should be discretion,” John said with a smile.

“Yes, sir. I am sure you are right. May I get you anything from the menu?” Dalton said, looking slightly pale.

“Nicholas, do you see anything you want to drink?”

“Yes, Dalton, I shall have a whiskey,” Nicholas said closing his menu.

“I shall have a scotch. Thank you, Dalton. What do you recommend on your menu this evening?”

“Sir, people seem to be enjoying the prime rib dinner, tonight.”

John looked at Nicholas and got an affirmative nod.

“Dalton, we’ll take two of those. Thank you.”

“Thank you, sir,” Dalton said as he bowed away from the table.

John and Nicholas talked for a few moments, casting their eyes around the room and pointing at different tools of their trade which had been replaced several decades ago. Their drinks arrived at the table and they toasted each other, “To Friends,” said Nicholas.

“To Friends,” replied John.

“It has been two months, have you been back to Miss Leeds since the last time you spoke about it?” Nicholas asked, swirling his whiskey.

“No, I haven’t,” John said. “I am thinking about setting up another appointment merely for the fact to see if I can find out why that noble was here and why Miss Leeds met with him. That’s still a mystery and there are not any rumors floating around about it. I haven’t met anyone new, so I have not escorted a lady out in almost two months. I think I can treat myself to another visit for still the same reasons. I am not ready to go back to the stage and play a part.”

“Peggy was in the park the other day and met a nice young woman. I believe she is new in town. I do not know her name, but she and Peggy seem to have quite an interest in the same female authors. Peggy was impressed with her in the short time they talked. She even mentioned your name as someone who might be interested in meeting her in the future.”

“Please tell Peggy thank you for looking out for me. That seems to be the only way I meet anyone. But, I think I have had enough of the new woman in town for a while.” Maybe in a few months I shall endeavor to start again. Since there doesn’t seem anyone out there that takes my fancy for a wife, Miss Leeds’ place shall suit me fine for a bit longer.”

“We have plowed our whole lives into carving out a living and for me, I was lucky when Peggy came into my path to tutor young Tom. I’d be like you, still today, had that not happened. I am still thinking of ways single people can meet,” Nicholas smiled. John, you know, you are not the only one out there.”

“This I know as is evidence of why Miss Leeds is so successful and I should suspect many of the other businesses like hers. Did you know they offer lessons on how to pleasure your lady? You are told that on your first visit.” John thought to himself that his next visit he would ask about that. Although he was sure in his confidence, had he overlooked anything?

Their meals were placed before them. The prime rib lived up to its reputation while John and Nicholas returned to find more interest in the quaint Mill on the Pond and its plethora of small tools once used in their craft.

The Madam’s Story Part 1


“Margaret dear, how goes your book?” questioned Katie

“I think it is coming along fine. I seem to have more notes than book pages, but they shall all fold in somewhere, I am sure. You are probably the one to make sense of most of them. Thanks for finding the time for me to get to your story.

“I am glad to be part of it.”

“Do you have any aversions to me using, anonymously, of course, the story of your earlier life that you have told me about?”

“None whatsoever. If this is the book to dispel myths and bring forth the truth, then the truth it shall be.”

“Understanding what led you to chose this line of work, what led you to this city?”

“Knowing it to be a fast growing industrial city . . . wait . . . leave out industrial, I saw much growth developing and was sure there would be a place for our profession.”

“How did you choose the women that work for you?” Margaret asked as she was still scribbling down her words from the last comment.

“That has been the hardest work of all. I started slowly, interviewing girls from the streets. They had to have something special, not in their pleasuring skill, as I was certain they had that, but they had to have other qualities. I did not select anyone with a harsh voice or accent. They had to meet a certain age and appearance. I wanted intelligence. I wanted the ability to train them in a more courtesan manner. They had to have a proper attitude toward my goals. And yes, I inspected their bodies for beauty. I did not want scars, any sign of rough handling or signs of the aging process. I did not want extreme youth as you can never tell some ages are legal. I am sorry to say there are still women working the streets that at their ages should be watching over their grandchildren from time to time. It is very sad on the streets.”

Margaret kept her head down writing as fast as she could.

“Oh, and yes, I had each one examined by a doctor. I still do for that matter. Twice a year, I have a doctor of women come in an examine each one of my girls. I have both the girl and her client in mind. I do not know if any of the girls have told you but they inspect their client if he is a first time caller for any signs of disease. If the man uses the street whores, it is quite possible they could have picked up something. I think you can get a list of the diseases that inflict this profession. Some are deadly.”

“Yes, I know. That is in many of the history books. Monarchs succumbed to such diseases with their folly.”

“I would not call it all folly.”

“And why is that,” she was asked.

“Because they are men.”

“I understand that but you seem to mean more behind it than the simple statement.”

“Sex and we cannot call it anything but that, certainly not love, has far differing effects between male and female. Men are born with the desire for sex. If you ever have a male child you shall see how he fondles himself if he can get to his wee penis. It is inborn. They think about sex all the time even into their very senior years, although less often by then but at least daily. Women shall do that less than a quarter of the time. I am not only speaking from what I have learned in this profession, but being as careful as I want to be, I have delved into the medical and scientific reasons behind the male’s libido,” Katie paused.

“That is very interesting, indeed. Can you tell me more?” Margaret asked, being fascinated at the turn this interview was taking.

“A male’s drive for sex is pretty straightforward; anything that breathes, I would imagine. A woman needs to feel a connection to her partner. A good percentage of what brings a woman to fulfillment lies between her ears and not her thighs, unlike the male, who is almost 100% biologic. That isn’t to say that they do not feel love because they do, but not here in this business. Lust is the detonator. Men want sex more often than women at the start of a relationship, in the middle of it, and after many years of it. Nuns are better at retaining their chaste ways than ministers. No matter how man was made, either by God or evolution, they are made with the constant desire to procreate. That is their way of showing their feelings to women for one thing. That is also their vulnerability. They show what they cannot say. In love, they shall always feel the need to possess, protect and to pleasure a passionate wife. And hallelujah, I say to that! Women are much more complicated. It takes a good three to four times longer for a woman to reach her climax than a male and that’s if everything is as it should be. But too many men and women still believe that a woman reaches her peak when the man reaches his after inserting himself into her. It just doesn’t work that way. For centuries, the more pure the woman or gentleman they are, the worse their compatibility is. The man shall always achieve what he needs to because he is in control and his bodily needs shall drive him. He finishes and rolls over leaving the woman wondering what is wrong with her. Surely, it should have felt better than that. And so she would go through their marriage unsatisfied and negative towards the act after awhile, leaving the male to seek what he physically needed with someone else. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t love or desire his wife, but biologically, it is needed.   If no woman is available, they shall relieve themselves.”

Margaret did not want to interrupt her to find out the meaning of her last statement.

“That is what this business thrives on. Men always have the desire for sex. They need it, but they can control it. You look pale Miss Eve,” said Katie. “I know you have not been active with a partner and I hope I am teaching you, through this interview, what you might expect and must do to have a good marriage.”

“It doesn’t sound as simple as I once thought,” Margaret (anonymously playing Miss Eve) said with a questioning tone.

“Yes, Miss Eve, it is simple. Elementary or it should be. Once both partners understand the others anatomy and feelings, the sensual relationship can begin a solid course to pleasure for both. If they can be open with their loved one – not their hired prostitute – the sexual act can become a great and very important and wonderful part of their oneness, their life together. It shall be imperative for the husband and with knowledge it can become almost as imperative for the wife. A whole new world opens to the woman and the man, too, usually maintaining the fidelity in a marriage. If he no longer seeks to have his needs fulfilled because the wife is now pleasured herself, it changes what their life could have been.”

Margaret scribbled away as Katie left to get a book with illustrations, which was printed in French, but the pictures were obvious.

Katie sat down with the book opening to some very worn and lose pages. Although it was an erotic book the pages she turned looked more medical – very detailed. Katie began to explain what she had wanted the men and women to know about sexuality. “This is where a woman receives most of her pleasure or at least the beginning of her multiple processes . . . here . . . not there! Here a woman can be sustained for quite a long time that is until it has gone past the point of comfort or she faints due to breathing too fast and too deep. The ideal setting is a man who knows what he’s doing and a woman who has thrown off all of her traditional trappings of inhibitions to her sexuality.” Katie said pointing to the drawings.

Margaret’s head was in a whirl. She wondered how she had missed so much of this talk at finishing school. She remembered why. The highly promiscuous ladies were a group she did not feel comfortable with. She had not realized what she had not learned from them.

“This is the teachings we offer all of our clients if they wish to learn the various ways and positions for the female partner to receive her orgasm. More than half the women, I dare say three-quarters of them are still living with the attitude they were raised with, being that her body must always be private. Some women brought to climax for the first time, still feel guilt that they have over stepped the bounds of being a lady. That’s what I mean when I say a lot of a woman’s pleasure starts between her ears and not her thighs. Now, be sure that is included in your book. I’d like to see more happy marriages out there whether it ruins my business or not. It is hard to blame either the man or the woman in failed relationships due to their sensual nature. We have all been reared from pious beginnings. Even the men have to learn about women as we have to learn about ourselves. It is just that we have to get past that first step of tradition that has caged us through the centuries. Men learn quickly about themselves because the need drives them. Then they are set adrift having to find their own way in the world with the sexual need being in every cell asking for attention. The man who is happy most of his life shall have learned and then taught his ultimate partner in life the finer art of lovemaking. The best that sex or lovemaking can be does not come naturally, it is learned or should I say unlearned.”

Wide-eyed, Margaret took the book and started reading the information, as she was taught French in school.

Margaret took the book from Katie after taking down her very exotic and learned notes. “You can read that, Margaret?” Katie asked.

“Yes . . . I can,” Margaret paused while trying to finish a particular sentence. “There are things here that I have never known or heard of until now,” Margaret whispered in a state of awe.

“Yes, my dear. You may have wound up with a husband unknowledgeable and your marriage would have suffered. Surely, as young children we explore ourselves and we knew when something felt nice. But when we do not find that in our marriage or relationship, we, the women, take on an unforgiving and equally unbearable guilt complex. The woman is sure there is a problem with herself from the bits and pieces that she’s had to find out for herself. That guilt slowly eats away at the woman’s confidence to keep her husband. It is a sad tale for both of them purely because such things are never spoken about or have been whispered erroneous information in pious or etiquette overtones for much too long. I am sure you know of the debauchery among the nobles and the scandals that go on in those echelons. That’s because they are too polite to speak about it. Lucky are the debauchers, really, for they have found the rapture to share with another.”

“All right. Maybe we should move along. I think I have said all that I want to on this subject. In fact, you look rather interested in that book. Let us pick this back up at another time. You do have more questions, do you not?”

“Ah . . . yes . . . of course. I shall just read up on more of this that you wanted me to learn and I shall take up your time later when there aren’t other pressing matters.”

Margaret got up and started walking to her room without once lifting her head from the book. Katie watched as she left and could not help but smile. “I think I have just taught her, her most important lesson in life,” she said to herself.







Dearest, loveliest Meg – Part Thirty-Five

Dear Reader, this is the last installment for Dearest, loveliest Meg. I hope you’ve enjoyed reading it. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for your support.



Chapter Thirty-Five

Before I could even draw another breath, Douglas enfolded me in his arms. I settled comfortably against him and, while I began tugging at the bows of my dressing gown, Douglas hissed in sudden disagreement.

“Oh no, my little vixen! Uncovering your exquisite body will be my privilege!” His voice was shaking with suppressed need. An answering tug of desire sprang to life low in the area between my thighs and heat suffused me as Douglas carried me to his bed. He placed me on my feet then shook off his trousers. My eyes roamed over his bare form; what they saw pulled at every nerve in my body! Oh, sweet Heaven, he was magnificent!

With few manipulations, Douglas undid the fastenings of my dressing gown and pulled it from my frame. As his fingers loosened the bows of my nightgown, he held my gaze with his own – a very earnest one.

“My love, are you certain of this? You can only pull away up until a certain point, Margaret. Beyond that point, I will no longer be able to draw back. Do you understand?”

“I do, Douglas. I do not want you to hold back any longer. I want you completely as my lover and beloved.” I almost lacked the breath to finish my sentence!

Soft flicks of his fingers removed my gown from my shoulders and it slid silently to the floor. Douglas’ gaze reflected my own as he let it roam over my naked body.

“Sweet Mother of God, Meggie … you are exquisite! I have imagined you in my dreams but nothing could have prepared me for this lovely sight of you.”

Warmth and desire spiralled up from low in my belly and my toes curled with need. My stomach seemed to be sucked empty with ache as my eyes roved over Douglas, head to toe and back. I extended a trembling hand to him and he took my hand to lace his fingers through mine. Without words, he led me to his bed and invited me to lie down between the silk sheets and rest my head upon the silk-rimmed pillows. Easing down beside me, Douglas settled his long, lean body against mine – a complete unison of touch.

He leaned upon his elbow and slowly began roaming his free hand over my now very trembling flesh, from my cheek and neck, to the swell of my breast and the flatness of my stomach to the curls of my womanhood; his touch sparkled fire all the way down. I caressed his shoulder in needy return and revelled in the long, smooth muscles of his torso under my palm. A sudden urge to kiss him flushed over me and I succumbed, attacking his mouth with a fierceness I did not know I possessed. In the blink of an eye, his arms were around me with a grip as tight as I could stand! His tongue ravished mine in a dance of love as old as mankind and I pressed myself against him in a desperate need to get as close to him as was possible. Mounting need made me wriggle and writhe against the hardness of his manhood until I was almost driven over the edge with impossibly hot desire. Oh, this play of flesh was delicious! I never could have suspected this!

Suddenly, he was on top of me, and, for an instant, the weight of him pressed the breath out of me. Then I instinctively adjusted my position to accommodate my body under his pressure and it felt marvellously good! Under my own eager volition, I parted my legs and arched up to be even closer to him. Blood pounding in my ears and a sweet ache churning in my belly, I felt my heart stop when the tip of his length probed for the opening of my secret place. I moved slightly and, all of a sudden, felt it slide inside and fill me completely and somewhat overwhelmingly. I gasped when a sudden sharp pain made me clench my inner muscles in response.

“Shhh, shhh, my heart, lay still. It will only be a moment, the pain will pass,” he most lovingly whispered. His lips soothed mine in a deep, warm kiss and I relaxed again as I returned his kiss. The pain subsided as abruptly as it had come. It was replaced by a strong, throbbing sensation of sweet, churning desire. I moved my hips up and down, seeking a position that brought me closer to Douglas than I ever felt before. He gasped and uttered a low, long pleasurable groan.

“Meggie, I cannot keep back … I must have you now, my sweetling.”

“Have me, then, Douglas, my love … please …”

Douglas’ hands slid around to cradle the back of my head and again he kissed me while his hips started to move gently against mine. Every move of his powerful body brought on a sensation of ever growing and well-being of excitement. The rubbing of his hard chest against my peaked, oversensitive nipples not only increased my desire but also, at the same time, pained and pleasured me to the extreme. I was driven higher and higher on the waves of seething pleasure and suddenly, was pushed over the edge into a sea of swirling, bright white lights. I was spun into the spiral, warm, exquisite ripples of delight drowning me! It was impossible bliss! How could I recover from this? Did I even want to?

Douglas’ hoarse cry reached the depths of my isolated bliss and I felt his body stiffen and harden as he ground his hips against mine under the strength of his long-lasting release. My inner muscles responded as they clenched around him and, once again, a fresh wave of pleasure rippled through me. It was even more exquisite than the first and I threw my arms around his lean waist to keep him close to me. My face resting against the hollow of his shoulder, I inhaled his unique, manly scent, saturated with the flavour of orgasm. I desperately longed to preserve the marvellous sensation! He collapsed on top of me with a gasp for breath, hurting me a little with his dead weight, yet I did not care. It felt so good, so right.


We stayed in that divine position for a while, revelling in each other’s warmth and closeness. Then Douglas’ mouth was upon mine and he whispered:

“Am I crushing you, my sweet? I will move away and …”

“No!” The thought was simply unbearable! I did not ever want him to move away from me and abandon me to loss and cold!

Douglas chuckled and the low rumble sent a new stir of pleasure up my body.

“I will be of no use to you, darling, for quite a while. I need to recover a bit.” And, with a sigh of utter well-being, he rolled over onto his side and drew me to him, so that I covered him now. Our bodies had, however, disconnected which filled my eyes with sudden tears that spilled over and down my cheeks.

“Do not weep, my sweetling. I know you must be in a bit of pain but it will not stay that way. The sexual deed becomes easier in time until there is only pleasure.” His big hands gently caressed me as he said this.

How could I put this remark to rights and tell him that it was the unbearable loss of him that prompted my tears? He would think I had become a sorry wanton under his lovemaking and that would not do. Or would he?

“I should scold you, my rakish lord, for not giving me all this sooner! How could you keep this heavenly experience from me? Shame on you, my lord!”

Douglas quickly stole a kiss from me and then grinned wickedly.

“So you liked it, my vixen? Well, why am I not entirely surprised about that? I knew from the start what a shameless creature you were! You and those cornflower blue eyes of yours, fluttering those lashes at me and beguiling me unabashedly from the first moment we met! Maybe I should punish you for seducing me tonight and send you to your room, right now!” He could not hide his impish grin!

“I am not moving from this bed, Douglas Spencer, and neither can you. Now, show me that I am about to shackle myself onto a real man and not a mere green boy!” I had to suppress my laughter.

Before I could finish my sentence, I was again back on the mattress and immediately convinced of the strength of my beloved’s bedside skills.




As I recall the events of those August days of the previous year, I now cannot fathom how I lived through the last two that preceded our wedding day. I still shiver under the onslaught of all the different feelings that besieged me then – anticipation, fear of discovery and bliss, being only a few of them.

We were married August twentieth as planned. After an agonizing time of two long days in which we could not keep from finding ways to be alone and touch, kiss and arouse each other like young fowls in springtime, a mutual agreement was decided on which not to share a bed again before our wedding day. It was hard as hell and, yes, we barely manage to live through that time of exciting agony.

The day of our wedding was a glorious, warm, sunny one. It was fragrant with the scents of harvest and the joy of storing food away for the coming winter. Everybody was in high spirits, from stable hands, to our maids and footmen, to family and friends. Everyone wanted to share our joy and happiness.

Edward Ferrars performed his clerical duties to perfection and pronounced us husband and wife in Watcombe Manor’s chapel after we spoke our wedding vows. Douglas, now Baron Watcombe, slid his mother’s wedding ring onto my finger. His eyes glistened with emotion and I wept uncontrollably while he kissed me before the assembled congregation of my family, friends and servants. After we exchanged our wedding vows, they all cheered us whole-heartedly .

After our wedding breakfast, Douglas and I slipped away and sneaked to our bedchamber where we renewed our physical union for the rest of the day and night.


I do not think – in fact, I am sure – I shall ever tire of my husband’s marital attentions. Douglas never ceases to amaze me with new ways of arousing and pleasing me and I dare say I am returning his caresses in just a most satisfactory fashion, since he does not complain from the lack of attention.

My hand is resting on the slight swell of my stomach, where our child is just now beginning to stir into life. An ever so tiny ripple goes through me, like the caress of a breeze over a field of barley -very fluttering but oh, so real! If everything goes well, I will be a mother come Christmas.

The sound of booted feet on the hall way marble causes me to turn to the morning room’s door in eager anticipation! An instant later, it is thrown open under the forceful hand of my husband.

“Dearest, loveliest Meg ….” he breathes, just before he wraps me and our child into his loving embrace. Our life together is just beginning!

The End

Please join me next week for a continuation of Jane Austen’s Persuasion. Will Anne and Wentworth finally be happy?

A Magical Letter


~ Remembering Times Forgotten through Period Drama ~