Dear Mrs. Ruth Ann Nordin,
When I agreed to be the hero of one of your Regencies, I had no idea you would be casting me in such a bad light.
Instead of seeming like a hero, others are likely to think I’m conceited and stubborn to a fault. Given the fact that you’ve already humiliated me in Ruined by the Earl by making me lose the duel (and badly, might I add) to that dimwit Lo-Loga- …. *sigh* I can’t even write his name. That’s how abominable that vile creature, whom you forced to marry my dear sister, is to me. Even to this day, I dare not speak his name aloud for fear stupidity will befall me.
I thought this book was going to show me as I truly am. Whether or not you choose to accept it, I am an important gentleman. My time is worth money. The very fact that I even agreed to show up in one of your books is an honor. I could have said no. I could have gone to White’s and talked about my next investment with Lord Steinbeck. Lord Steinbeck doesn’t take time for just anyone, you know. He only sees those he deems worthy of his attention, and those whom he chooses to speak well about often find their reputations improve that much more.
But instead of doing something worthwhile, I have been subjected to one bad thing after another. You have subjected me to ridicule because of Lo-Loga-…that dreadful brother-in-law of mine. In addition to that, I’ve wasted valuable time on your travesty of a book. You have given me a wife whose favorite pastime is trying to get me caught in a scandal.
It’s bad enough she trapped me into marrying her when she knew full well I despise scandals of any sort. Now she’s trying to distract me from my important business plans. She keeps pestering me to do all kinds of things I’m too much of a gentleman to mention in this letter. Honestly, Ruth, the bed is only for having children. Nothing more. Deal with it.
But all of that isn’t even the worst of it. My new wife has been going around talking to that brother-in-law of mine, and you know those two are in cahoots together. They’re determined to make me miserable. Between the two of them, I’ll never get a moment’s peace, and this book certainly won’t have a happy ending.
Given all these grievances, I have come to the conclusion this book won’t work out. Either find another hero to replace me or stop writing this awful book at once. If you decide to give me a role befitting my pristine reputation, I’ll be more than happy to be the hero in that one.
Mr. Malcolm Jasper
P.S. Real literature is dead. Jane Austen would be rolling in her grave if she knew you were writing these dreadful books.
Malcolm – ID 21663285 © Inara Prusakova | Dreamstime.com
Logan – ID 19812969 © Jason Stitt | Dreamstime.com
Lord Steinbeck – ID 29258057 © Valua Vitaly | Dreamstime.com
Regan – ID 13495507 © Viorel Sima | Dreamstime.com