Born Again Victorian – Guest Blogger Lisabet Sarai Author of The Ruination of Ramona Stone #lgbtq #historicalromance #sapphic

Born Again Victorian

Sometimes I think I lived a past life in the Victorian age. Ever since I was a kid, I’ve been drawn to architecture and costumes from the period. My siblings used to tease me about how much I liked “gingerbread” houses. In my high school yearbook picture, I’m wearing a high-necked, 1880’s style blouse with an antique cameo brooch at my throat. I’ve been a huge fan of Gilbert and Sullivan – the consummate chroniclers of Victorian culture – since I was introduced to their operettas at age five. I had devoured the complete Sherlock Holmes before I turned fifteen, not to mention other classics from the era by Wilkie Collins, H. Rider Haggard and of course Charles Dickens.

Possibly due to all the nineteenth century fiction I’ve consumed, I find it surprisingly easy to write dialogue and description that can pass as Victorian. I certainly can’t produce the same level of authenticity for any other historical era.

Over my two and a half decade career, I’ve written a number of tales that take place during Queen Victoria’s reign. My erotic romance Miranda’s Masks features a parallel plot that unfolds in late-nineteenth-century Boston. I’ve also penned a number of steam punk books, all set in an alternative Victorian world with more advanced technology than actually existed (although in fact the latter half of the eighteen hundreds was a hotbed of invention and entrepreneurship). If you like the steampunk genre, check out my Toymakers Guild series or my alt-Victorian novel set in British India, Rajasthani Moon.

The Ruination of Ramona Stone is my first attempt at a realistic novel set in the period. My two heroines fall desperately in love, violating every rule of Victorian society. They understand the price they will pay, should anyone discover their secret passion, but they risk everything to stay together.

It might seem strange that I’m so attracted to things Victorian. Given my interest in sexuality (both literary and personal), I probably would have had difficulty adapting to the prudish societal norms of the time. Of course, perennially popular Victorian erotica like The Pearl and My Secret Life suggest that there was a quite a gap between what people professed in public and what they did in private (or in the company of like-minded libertines).

That’s my theory, anyway: that the Victorians were a far lustier group than they pretended. That’s certainly true of the characters in my Victorian-themed stories.

The Ruination of Ramona Stone

by Lisabet Sarai

Victorian Lesbian Romance (Three flames)

HEA ending

ASIN: B0HMD46TBH

ISBN: 9798237811216

To Victorian London, they were childhood friends reunited by tragedy. Behind closed doors, they were each other’s undoing.

Ramona Stone survived the bleak years at boarding school because of bright-eyed Juliet—her childhood anchor and her dearest confidante. While Juliet marries for love, Ramona accepts the husband her father has arranged, an ambitious barrister twice her age.

When an accident leaves Juliet a penniless widow, Ramona persuades her husband to grant her friend shelter. Proximity kindles unexpected passion; sympathy turns to illicit desire. What begins as solace quickly transforms into a force that neither woman can resist or deny.

Trapped with a domineering husband, living in a society eager for scandal, Ramona understands that every touch is a gamble and every glance a betrayal. If their secret comes to light, she won’t just lose her place in society—she will lose the only love that she’s ever known.

Excerpt:

Juliet seized my hand in both of hers. “Thank goodness you’re here,” she murmured.

“I heard you cry out. Are you hurt, or ill?”

“I had a dream—a nightmare, really. I screamed to wake myself up.” She shook herself, like a dog emerging from a pond. “By the saints, it was terrible!”

I stroked the back of her hand, feeling strangely awkward. “Dreams mean nothing. They’re just illusion.”

“I don’t know. I barely remember my mother, but I know she used to question me about my dreams. ‘Sleep is the portal to truth,’ she told me once.” My friend half-giggled, then a shiver ran through her frame. “I had no idea what a portal was.”

“It’s hardly surprising you’d have bad dreams, given what you’ve been through.”

Juliet frowned. “Yes, I can see how that awful dinner tonight might have fed this dream.”

Shame twisted inside me. “I’m so sorry about the way Edward treated you. He was horrible. And the worst thing is, he doesn’t even realise how cruel and offensive he’s being.”

“Why do you stay with him, Ramona?”

“Oh, Juliet! Of all people, how can you ask? Without him to support me, I’d be in the same straits as you are. I have no independent income. I’d have no money, no place to live… Plus there’s Will. I couldn’t stand to be separated from my little darling.”

She looked grave. “It is a weary thing to be a woman, is it not? The world is arranged for the convenience of the husband. We are but ornaments in his house.”

“Edward is not an evil man. He provides for our needs. He does not physically abuse me. Indeed, he believes himself to be a model husband. I think he finds my impatience and frustration puzzling. After I stormed out of the dining room, I suspect he retired to his study, poured himself a brandy and tried to understand why I was so contrary.”

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