Well! Having asked to escort me to the Masked Ball and depositing a roll of white beaded silk georgette for my gown on the table, Ser Niccolo de Fleury has disappeared as if he had never been.
My other partner in crime in this jaunt through a costume drama toward the night of the Masked Ball has sent another post. Rebecca introduces her alter-ego, Sarina.
I have much to disclose to you and little time in which to do it, so please forgive me if I neglect some of the usual niceties. You must arrange to be in Veniche on 1st May. I know how you dislike leaving your estates for what you term the frivolity of town life, but indeed, there is no choice.
My writing life has the capacity to be chaotic at the moment. Flittering from one direction is the fine-tuning of Paperweights, from another comes the continued creation of the story of The Shifu Cloth, from another direction still comes the writing of a short-story for Bo Press’s new limited edition Masked Ball box and book, and from the busiest corner of all, the development of the ‘virtual’ Masked Ball.
Whilst you all know me as Mesmered, for the night of the Ball you may call me Lucia Brabante and until today, I was excited to be attending. I was sure Ser Richard Armitage, an entrancing visitor to Veniche, would ask to escort me.
I am still completely snowed under with edits, so my other dear long-distance friend, Rebecca Bingham, has agreed to guest-blog. She, along with Pat, has also agreed to help organise the Ball which is proving more fun than we could possibly have imagined and heavens knows its imagination that is oiling the whole machine.
Building a Mask, Part Two by Pat Sweet, my inimitable guest blogger . . .
A letter from Signora Neroni!
“….my niece Vittoria, whose first season in Society was not the success her mother could have wished. Vittoria is an amiable child, but still hobbledehoy, and one of those girls who cannot dance a single quadrille without looking as though she has been pulled backwards through a hedge. Annietta has persuaded me to give her a season here in Veniche. We hope it will be like a greengrocer who pulls off the battered outer leaves of a cabbage to give it a crisper look. Vittoria is determined to appear at the masquerade costumed as a unicorn, a delicate compliment, as she sees it, to a youth in whose family coat of arms it figures, and with whom she is besotted. The mask she has ordered would instill a hearty respect in the bravest hero, for the horn’s an ell if it’s an inch, and the end of the animal’s nose extends a good two feet from her own.
I have a huge deadline of manuscript editing today for Paperweights if I want to truly stand a chance of publication. Thus I am unable to compile a competent blog, so to keep you entertained and no, I shouldn’t do it but I will anyway, I thought I’d share what blew into my email this morning. I really do think I shall ask RA to be my ‘virtual’ partner for the ‘virtual’ Masked Ball here in May! Sorry Ladies, beat you to it! Just don’t tell the love of my life . . .
What a day! Launched the book trailer and wanted desperately to open champagne with friends to celebrate, so have been having a virtual celebration on Facebook. And that’s actually stirling practice for the Ball. Writing, ie editing, hasn’t featured greatly today and I’m ashamed of my lack of discipline and needing to run far from such shame, I sped over to my blogroll and had an enjoyable read. There is a wonderful piece of writing that deserves to have heaps of coverage and if you want to be taken far from the melting snows and chill of a Northern hemisphere winter, do read this piece from Provence . . . guaranteed to warm your toes.