So. I got ARCs!!!

Only a little excited. OKAY! REALLY EXCITED! I can hold a version of the book in my own hands! It's ALMOST real. When I see it on the shelves, I'll try not to be too annoying :) because then it WILL be real.

I'm not sure what to do with them yet. I want to give them all away, but will settle for giving away ONE copy to those who sign up for my newsletter in the next couple weeks (I'll enter you twice into the random draw if you follow me on Twitter, too). Contest will run until JULY 15, 2010! I know, it's a million days away, but it'll come quick and I want to give everyone on facebook and twitter a chance to enter for the one I'm giving away.

My family is asking for copies. I want to share even if they are the uncorrected versions of the book. But I have such a limited number. What would you do with ARC's if you got them? Are you a reader that adores getting advance books of authors you love most? Are there ARC's you wish you could get your hands on?

In case you want to know what the book is about, here's the teaser on the first page (And you saw it here first!):

How had she ended up in a place like this?
When he'd moved back to England after his uncle's death, the first thing he'd done was look for her. That had to be some five years ago. His sources had said she was still married to that lowly baron with an estate up north. Perhaps Griffin had given up his search too easily.
Griffin turned away from the scene and looked for the man who escorted them up to this section of the palace. Griffin had made his selection. He'd had to pull himself through a long path of self-destruction to make it to this point. Was this some sick ironic award for moral behavior? It didn't matter. It was what it was. After all these years, she was finally going to be his.

Back Blurb can be found here.

This giveaway is open internationally. So if you live in France (why is that always the first country that comes to mind, oh probably because I would love to live in Paris, even though I've never been there), I'll totally ship the book to you.

Already signed up for my newsletter? No problem, you'll automatically be entered into the draw!

One of the standard conventions of historical romances revolves around a widow in mourning who falls in love with a new man, often the hero. Their potential for a happy ending is postponed by strictures against a hasty remarriage. This postponement can lead to delightfully naughty scenarios such as clandestine meetings, pre-marital sexual encounters, and even secret marriages.

I was confronted with just such a predicament when writing SONG OF SEDUCTION , available now from Carina Press. Mathilda Heidel, my widowed heroine, falls in love with Arie de Voss, the renowned composer and pianist she's idolized for years. When presented with the opportunity to study music with her idol, Mathilda jumps at the chance. Their relationship soon escalates to one of mutual longing.

But then what?

Because SONG OF SEDUCTION is set in 1804 Austria, I needed to find out what mourning restrictions would've been placed on a young widow in Mathilda's position. A week? A month? A year? What was the expected mourning period, and what restrictions to her daily life would she have experienced?

Research led me to understand that Salzburg's highly Catholic society determined most customs. Unlike in England where, come Victorian times, mourning periods were codified almost to the point of being writ in law books, Salzburg's customs were not to strict or uniform. The local priests set the standard for his flock, and any more complex rulings--generally to do with the nobility--were left to the bishop.

Here's an exchange between Mathilda and her best friend, Ingrid, as they discussion possibilities for her future:

"Until you are remarried," Ingrid said firmly, "you do not need to leave."

Mathilda glanced down at the mourning gown that enshrouded her body. The glaring contrast of pale trim against black bombazine shouted without words: my husband died unjustly. She shrank from the attention fostered by those garish adornments, the curious looks and pity intent on stealing her peace.

"Do not tease, Ingrid. You know I cannot remarry, most likely not for months."

"But you've helped us beyond measure. I can at least find you a dance partner."

"No dancing either," Mathilda said.

"Still? Father Holtz is being unreasonable. A year of mourning is all he requires of the war widows, and even those restrictions are ignored if they have enough money."

Her fingers wrapped in black kid leather, Mathilda toyed with her pendant. She recognized the anxious habit and tucked the protective amber amulet into her bodice. "He's only ensuring that I respect Jürgen's memory."

"You do already," Ingrid said.

Notice the part about the pale trim on her mourning gown? This isn't a nod to the English custom of half-mourning, where widows were permitted to mix white, gray and even lavender with their black garb. No, Austrian widows whose husband had been murdered wore white lace trim on their cuffs and bodices. This may have been a hold-over from the medieval "white mourning," which was worn when enduring the deepest form of grief.

This symbol of the injustice Mathilda's late husband suffered came in very handy. The scandal of her birth means she shrinks from public notice, and those glaring white cuffs--thank you, history!--became yet another symbol of why she was different. The last thing she wants it to stand out, which is why she hides her miraculous talent for playing the violin.

If only a stubborn, ambitious musician would come into her life, intent on showing her how wonderful it can be to indulge in one's true passions...

If you're curious about more of Austria's peculiar customs, please let me know! I'd love to give away a copy of SONG OF SEDUCTION to a random commenter!