I can’t get away from magic in one form or another. I thought that when I branched out from paranormal into historical romance, there wouldn’t be any magic in my books. I already knew why I was writing contemporary paranormals – I wanted distance from real life. I thought Regency historicals would work the same way, because 200 years in the past is plenty of distance from today.

Apparently not. Magic is sneaky. In my very first Regency (unpublished and languishing in a virtual drawer hoping to be revised), an Irish tinker walked into the story. He seemed like a regular guy, but it turned out he had some fairy blood. Not that he did anything unusual in that story, but I could just tell, and in the sequel (also languishing in the drawer) his magic crept into the book. That very same story ended with the whisper of a ghost.

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