Tag: historical romance

How many disasters can one wedding have? #MFRWauthor

I don’t mean to imply that my whole wedding was a disaster after disaster, but it was a little weird and strange things seemed to crop up. But what did I expect? We’d been engaged nine days—yes, nine days from when I said yes to a strange proposal to walking down the aisle.

That said, I was not one of those girls who had imagined her wedding from when she was tiny. Except I did want a Cinderella dress that reached from I was not tall enough to be Cinderellapew to pew. Since I’m five feet two inches, such a dress was not in the cards. But I did find a dress I liked okay and I got it for $75, so I was happy. I made my headpiece and bouquet from silk flowers and a yard or two of tulle, and told my bridesmaid to wear whatever she wanted. I was not Bridezilla. In fact, I didn’t care all that much about the wedding—I cared only for the groom. Is that weird? Yeah, maybe, but I watch all those brides on Say Yes to the Dress and wonder sometimes if they care more for the wedding than they do the marriage. I didn’t have Simple and demurethat bridal moment when I first tried on the dress—I didn’t really care what I wore so much. It was white, it was long and demure, and it was cheap. ‘Nuff said.

The proposal was unconventional, though not really a disaster.
Me: I’m ready to get married.
Him: What are you doing next Saturday?
Me: Why?
Him: We can get married.
Me: Okay.
Was there a bended knee? No, we were driving at the time. Was there a diamond? No. I said I didn’t need one and he said, “I’m so glad you feel that way.” Is it any wonder I rushed to say yes to this man? 😉

So maybe not caring about the dress wasn’t a disaster. Having my mother say that she and Dad couldn’t travel from Wisconsin to Virginia for a wedding nine days away was. I cried. Mom cried. Dad called and said they would be there. Whew!

There was no wedding rehearsal the night before the nuptials—the only people available were hubby, his parents and me. My parents and maid of honor arrived late that night.

It rained. And when I say rain, I mean downpours. Everyone was wet coming into the chapel and I was petrified about walking down a wet aisle. (I made it.)

I cried a lot moments before the service. I begged my dad not to make me get married. His words of advice? “We drove all the way here from Wisconsin and you’re going to get married.” Truthfully, I think he believed I was pregnant. After all, why else would I rush to name a wedding date? I was not, but I always wondered if that was why he took such a strong stance.

I had told the minister and hubby that I did not want to kiss him (hubby) in Simple ceremonyfront of everyone. But when all was said and done, I kissed everyone except hubby—my maid of honor, the minister, the best man. Hubby said I was about to head for the organist when he turned me and took my up the aisle.Wedding rings

There were only about 70 people attending, and the reception was at my new in-laws’ house. I neglected to mention in my hurried invites that there would be no dinner, only cake and some kind of punch. A few of my friends came from Richmond and Fredericksburg and they were hungry by the time the event ended. We were married out in the sticks, and there was nowhere to eat for fifty miles once they left. I felt bad about that, but by the time I found out, there was no solution except a few cheese sandwiches.

This is probably the biggest mishap: I didn’t remember anything about the wedding. Nothing. Hubby had a good laugh telling me all about it the next day.

All that said, for a hurried wedding, the marriage has been good for over forty years. We had dated for years, but dating and married are two very different things! Fortunately, I chose well—and I’d like to say he did too. (Well, hell, I will say he did to.) We still laugh, still love, still enjoy being with each other despite the rushed beginning. And that isn’t a disaster!

Read the next blog in the blog hop by going here.

Dee
Only a Good Man Will Do: Seriously ambitious man seeks woman to encourage his goals, support his (hopeful) position as Headmaster of Westover Academy, and be purer than Caesar’s wife. Good luck with that!

Naval Maneuvers: When a woman requires an earth-shattering crush of pleasure to carry her away, she can’t do better than to call on the US Navy. Sorry, Marines!

New historical romantic suspense! Keeping Faith

For the first time, Nomad Authors welcomes Beverley Oakley. Keeping Faith sounds wonderful!

Keeping Faith 
Fair Cyprians of London Series (Book 3)
By Beverley Oakley

Beverley has a print copy of Her Gilded Prison to giveaway during the tour. Please use the Rafflecopter below to enter. Remember you may enter every day for your chance to win a print copy of Her Gilded Prison. You may find the tour locations here. 
 
About Keeping Faith:

“My beautiful Revenge.”

 Four years ago, Faith’s mysterious benefactress falsely accused her of stealing and deposited her in Madame Chambon’s exclusive brothel.

 There, Faith was to learn how to entrance London’s noble gentlemen with her learning in philosophy, politics and art.

 Her body was to be saved for the greatest enticement of all: revenge.

 Faith doesn’t care what she has to do. She lives only to fulfil a bargain that will set her free.

 But when Faith is recruited as the muse of a talented, sensitive painter whose victory in a prestigious art competition turns them both into celebrities overnight, she discovers the reasons behind her mission are very different from what she’d been led to believe.

 Now she is complicit in something dark and dangerous while riches, adulation and freedom are hers for the taking.

 But what value are these if her heart has become a slave to the man she is required to destroy?

Genre – historical romantic suspense
Heat Level – Medium

Keep Faith Buy Links:
https://www.books2read.com/u/bP5pGY
Amazon US: https://amzn.to/2Dg70UP

Excerpt: 

Chapter One

 “What did you learn last night?”

 “A gentleman must always believe he knows best.”

 Confident that her answer was pleasing, Faith reached across the table to help herself to a macaroon but a sharp slap across the back of the hand stopped her progress by the silver teapot.

 Her smile of feigned contrition was rewarded with a raised eyebrow from Madame Chambon. Not an invitation to partake of a macaroon, unfortunately. The table laden with eclairs and petit fours in Madame’s private sitting room was merely for show.

 “Greedy girl, Faith! You can eat at the Dorchester tomorrow and I daresay you won’t even spare a thought for the other girls who are justified in being somewhat jealous of your cossetted life.” Madame sniffed as she patted one of the grizzled, orange curls of her elaborate coiffure. Faith suspected a squirrel’s pelt had made its contribution. “I’m sure they wonder every day why you never have to stir yourself – or anyone else, for that matter – to get your fine clothes or a roof over your head.” Madame Chambon piled three macaroons onto her already laden plate before making a sweeping gesture that encompassed the furnishings of her surprisingly decorous private sitting room with its gold tasseled green velvet curtains and flock wallpaper. “What have you told them, Faith? About why you are here, I mean?”

 Faith’s stomach rumbled as she gazed from the prints of the famous artists that lined the walls to the fine fare in front of her, ordered from Fortnum and Mason. These monthly sessions in table manners were supposed to give Faith the practice she needed to deport herself like a lady when eating in public. However, under Madame’s guardianship, Faith never actually got to try the specialties.

 “Answer me, Faith. In all the three years that you’ve been here, you’ve had to do precisely nothing to justify your existence. Surely the girls have questioned you? I have my own version of the truth for them, as you know, but I’d be interested to hear what you have to say.”

 Faith didn’t answer. She already knew how lucky she was, but Madame was not ready to drop the subject, despite having just crammed an entire chocolate éclair into her mouth. Faith just managed to make out the muffled words, “Every night you lie peacefully in your bed while the other girls have to earn their livings.”

 Lying peacefully in her bed was not how Faith would describe the restfulness of her slumber. She was kept awake every night by the grunts and cries of ecstasy that penetrated the thin walls of her attic chamber.

 Still, she’d finally learned when it was wise to respond meekly, so she bowed her head and stared at her neat kid gloves while dreaming of the delicacies Mrs. Gedge would order for them when Faith really was dining with her at the Dorchester Hotel the following afternoon. The Sacher Torte Mrs. Gedge had ummed and aahed over before finally choosing the baked Alaska from the sweets trolley last month still haunted her. However, since part of Faith’s tutoring included how to win over reluctant gentleman ‘and make them wild with wanting’ which is how Madame phrased it, then surely Faith could persuade her American benefactress to order the Austrian chocolate specialty?

 She was so busy rehearsing her words for tomorrow that she almost missed Madame’s prophetic and appalling statement.

 “Well, Faith, the time has come for you to start earning your way, now.”

 Faith brought her head up in shock. Was Madame teasing? When it appeared not, she gripped the table edge as she struggled for composure. For so long she’d known the reckoning would come. Yes, and with three years preparing for it, she’d believed she could meet it head-on with the necessary fortitude.

 But there’d been no warning.

 She began to shake, biting into her bottom lip and clasping her hands in her lap to try and keep secret the manifestations of her terror from Madame who’d only be spurred onto gloating and make her suffer even more.

 “Mrs. Gedge reported last month that she wasn’t entirely happy you were ready for what she has in store for you when she took you to tea, Faith.” Madame chewed noisily, unperturbed, it seemed, by the crumbs that landed on her gaudy vermillion skirts.

 Faith didn’t suggest that Mrs. Gedge’s dissatisfaction was perhaps the fault of Faith’s tutor – the one sitting in front of her – who knew nothing about deporting herself as a lady.

 With a dainty gesture using only her forefingers, Madame Chambon raised her plate and licked at the crumbs that had not been dislodged before saying, “Fortunately, Lady Vernon is recovered at last from her long indisposition and has agreed to forget your rudeness to her from six months ago. In fact, she’ll be here shortly. Yes, she’ll soon have you passing the scrutiny of the most discerning duchess.” Madame gobbled down another macaroon with as much finesse as the dogs Faith’s father used to goad into fighting each other after they’d fought over the scraps from the scrubbed wooden table at the farm. Not that there’d been many scraps with ten children to feed.

 “Should we not have waited for Lady Vernon?” Faith suggested, daringly. But she had to say something to stop herself from launching into a volley of querulous questions about exactly what form this ‘having to earn her own way’ might take.

 Madame Chambon pushed aside an untouched plate of bread and butter to reach for another chocolate éclair and sighed. “There was just so much food on the table it seemed unnecessary to wait if her ladyship was going to be late. Ah! And here she is.” Madame’s orange painted mouth turned up at a knock on the door. “Shoulders back, Faith! And make sure you don’t talk with your mouth full.”

 Since this was not a danger, Faith supposed there might be some compensation in having to face her former nemesis who surely must subscribe to the belief that learning table manners required one having to eat.

 Madame threw her arms wide in a welcome as the door opened to admit the new arrival. “Good evening, Lady Vernon. We’re so glad you’ve recovered from your chest ailment,” she gushed. “A good rest has done you the world of good. Why, you look ten years younger. Just as you do every time I see you, in fact. And we’re indeed humbled that you’ve consented to return.” Madame simpered at the elderly woman, dressed all in black who looked, Faith thought, even more wraith-like than usual as she pinned up the veil of her bonnet and took the seat at the table proffered by Madame who went on, “I’m sure you’ll feel even better once you’ve heard Faith’s heartfelt apology.”

 Faith blushed under the scrutiny of the two pairs of expectant, unforgiving eyes, and glanced longingly at the remaining macaroon.

 Yes, there were times when it was worth being abject. She mightn’t mean what she said, but if the last three years under Madame Chambon’s roof had taught her one thing, it was how to sound heartfelt and sincere when she felt anything but.

 “I’m sorry for my rude comments about…” Faith hesitated. Perhaps it was best not to stir up old memories. While it must be perfectly obvious to anyone who met Lady Vernon as to why an earl’s daughter could remain a spinster into her sixtieth year, it hadn’t been in anyone’s interest – Faith’s least of all, it turned out – for Faith to have gone into quite such specific and extensive detail regarding her thoughts on the likely reasons. “I behaved like a child, though it’s such a long time ago, now, I can barely remember what was going through my head at the time. I was only seventeen and, in those days, prone to losing my temper but now I’m eighteen and, thanks to all your efforts in teaching me how to act like a lady, Lady Vernon, I’m so far from the rude and impulsive young thing I was before, you’d not recognize me today. Thanks to your thorough tutelage, I am determined that I will never speak out of turn, to you, or anyone. Indeed, I have changed! I truly believe that, confronted by a table of delicacies like this, for example, I would certainly not embarrass you or Mrs. Gedge or any lovely young man or his mother who might take me out to tea by any show of greediness or lack of restraint.”

 Lady Vernon’s eyes remained fixed firmly on Faith for the duration of this speech with no indication of how forgiving or otherwise she might prove to be.

 After a long silence, she spoke. “Restraint?” She sniffed. “Restraint is the most important requirement of any young lady, Faith. I’ve told you this many times, so I’m glad it’s a lesson you claim to have finally learned.”

 With her eyes fixed on Faith, she reached towards the remaining macaroon that sat lonely on its plate just in front of them both, her long-fingered hand hovering just above. “Please pass that to me, Faith. I can’t seem to reach it.”

 Wordlessly, Faith complied, schooling her features into impassivity while she railed inside, I hate you! I hate you! as she watched Lady Vernon transport the coconut confection to her thin, bloodless lips.

 “Delicious,” Lady Vernon murmured. “In fact, I believe it is the best macaroon I have ever tasted? You must surely agree, Faith, since the plate is now empty.”

 She looked pointedly at the two remaining crumbs that clung to the edge of the fine china, as if to imply that Faith had eaten the rest. Then she indicated the plate of bread and butter near Madame Chambon. “Please eat, Faith. Madame Chambon and I have a leisurely afternoon at our disposal. She and I will partake of the remaining chocolate eclairs –” Her pointed chin wobbled slightly, whether from the suppression of mirth or the swallowing of bile, Faith could only guess, “while you make good work of the bread and butter with all the ladylike restraint you’re so anxious to prove.”

 Other Books in the Series:

 Saving Grace (Fair Cyprians of London Book 1) by [Oakley, Beverley]
Saving Grace Amazon Buy Link: https://amzn.to/2z7rVGx

 Forsaking Hope (Fair Cyprians of London Book 2) by [Oakley, Beverley]
Forsaking Hope Amazon Buy Link: https://amzn.to/2DlzV9M

 Beverley Oakley’s Bio:

Debutantes, widows and the occasional courtesan test society’s boundaries in Beverley Oakley’s wicked, passionate historical romances dripping with scandal, intrigue, and suspense.

 Her Fair Cyprians of London series is about a group of determined and clever courtesans at a high-class Soho brothel who use their wit and beauty to avenge past betrayals – and who find lasting love along the way.

 How can there be a happily ever after? is a question many a reviewer has asked before admitting to being delighted and satisfied by the unexpected plot twists and surprise endings – just like in Beverley’s own life. You can read more on her website.

 Beverley’s Social Links:

 Website: http://www.beverleyoakley.com/ 
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AuthorBeverleyOakley/
Pinterest: https://au.pinterest.com/beverleyeikli/ 
Twitter: https://twitter.com/BeverleyOakley
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/list/5989577.Beverley_Oakley

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Lust Scenes vs Sexy Scenes in Romances

I recently wrote a post as a guest blogger on Night Owl Reviews about the difference between lust scenes—those with loving but not very explicit physical content—and sexy scenes with much more explicit descriptions. The scenes in my own books are not too detailed when the hero and heroine climb between the sheets. Though I don’t mind reading sexier books (and even enjoy it if the writing is good), I have to write what I’m comfortable with. Instead of focusing on the physical relationship between characters, I like to spend my words with drama, suspense, and mystery, as my three books show.

Perilous Love takes place in Belgium at the beginning of the first World War and tells about a husband and wife who have grown apart but who find themselves trapped as the Germans invade the country. While their physical relationship is not the emphasis, the suspense and danger in which they find themselves pulls them together. The question is, do they find love or just a respite from the hazards surrounding them?

Trafficking of slaves and gold smuggled to Napoleon carry the day in Lies of Gold. Again, the main characters are drawn together due to happenstance but their physicality takes a back seat to the intrigue and mystery behind the gold and murder. It’s not that going to bed together is unimportant, it’s just that intimate details are left more to the reader’s imagination while they sort out who is a treason to England.

Finally, The Proposition is another tale of World War I and centers around lies, a family’s dysfunction, and murder. While the main characters fall into bed, the door is closed with the Do Not Disturb sign pretty clear. That doesn’t mean that their sexual attraction is ignored, just that it’s not the main focus of the book.

This is a taste of my blog post. I hope you will hop on over to Night Owl Reviews and read the real thing!

Thanks–
Jan Selbourne
When history whispers, I pass it on!
Perilous Love
Lies of Gold
The Proposition

A Merry Contest by Meredith Bond!

Merry Men Contest

Meredith Bond is sponsoring a contest for the week of August 20! Check it out here!

Meredith "Merry" BondAbout Meredith:

Merry has won numerous awards for her work but truly made a name for herself in writing after a couple of previous jobs–one teaching history. In order to keep her sanity while raising her children, Merry began living in a fantasy world filled with dashing, noble heroes and beautiful heroines. Desperately searching for an excuse to put the children into daycare, Merry decided to write down her fantasies and call it “working”. She was amazed when someone other than her husband actually liked her writing. Now Merry combines her love of history with another love, writing. She has also extended a helping hand to other writers with her knowledge of writing and publishing.

Website
Formatting for Indie-Authors

Welcome Barbara Monajem!

Nomad Authors is proud and happy to host Barbara Monajem and her new book The Redemption of the Shrew!

The Redemption of the Shrew
Scandalous Kisses Book 4
By Barbara Monajem

Barbara has some wonderful prizes to giveaway during the tour. Please be sure to enter with the Rafflecopter below. There is an opportunity every day to enter for your chance to win one of the fabulous prizes. So join us for a fun blog tour journey and be sure to enter every day for your chance to win. You may find all the blog tour locations here. 


About The Redemption of the Shrew:

 Nothing is more painful than rejection—particularly when completely naked!

 Gloriana Warren doesn’t want to wait for marriage. Beneath her shrewish exterior is a kindhearted woman who uses her fortune for good. It doesn’t matter that the man she’s set her sights on claims impoverishment. She’s in love and determined to marry him. But her attempt at a moonlight seduction ends in disaster.

 French marquis Philippe de Bellechasse has had it up to his gorgeous dark eyes with being pursued by lusty ladies. His escape to England from the violence of the French Revolution took a toll on his finances as well. Gloriana may be gloriously naked, but he’s just not ready to submit to her seduction.

 But when a precious family artifact is stolen, Philippe must convince Gloriana he’s not the guilty party. He’ll steal it back for her, but on his terms. Gloriana, believing he despises her, has plans of her own. Working at odds is dangerous, but working together can be more so. Is Philippe willing to risk his heart again for a deliciously tempting shrew?

Amazon Buy Link

Excerpt:

 A clandestine meeting, particularly where nakedness is involved, is best arranged for a moonless night.
Or so Gloriana Warren told herself, for her mother would never have uttered such a scandalous dictum. Unfortunately, it was tonight or never. Tomorrow, the man she had sworn to love forever would leave Lancashire and return to London—without her. They wouldn’t be able to marry for years because of his stupid scruples about money.
Men and their tedious pride! She and the Marquis de Bellechasse loved one another. They shared the same lofty ideals. She had a substantial dowry. Marrying now made sense. Not only that, her mother would die happy.
So Gloriana was taking matters into her own hands. She had planned the upcoming encounter in glorious detail—every word, every gesture. As she emerged from the summerhouse to greet him, he would stand and stare at her, transfixed by her beauty.
“Darling Philippe,” she would say, reaching for him, offering herself without reserve. “Love is eternal. It cannot, must not be denied!”
“Ah, ma belle,” he would respond, his hand on his heart, his voice throbbing with desire. “I adore you. What a fool I was to think we could wait for years. Even another minute is too long. Tonight, I shall make you mine!”
She would fling herself into his waiting arms, swept away on the tide of his passion.
She wasn’t sure exactly how it would go after that, apart from plenty of kissing, but judging by her previous experience of Philippe’s kisses, it would be the most thrilling experience of her life.
She sneaked out the French doors, arms full of blankets, and glanced back up at Garrison House. Not a glimmer of candlelight showed in the windows. She hurried through the rose garden and skirted the lawn, keeping to the bushes and out of the moonlight. In the secret room under the summerhouse, she and her darling Philippe would be safe. Tomorrow they would announce their engagement to Mama. They would send for a special license and be married within a week.
Ten minutes later, she had set up a makeshift bed under the summerhouse and removed all her clothes. Shivering more from excitement than from the chilly night air, she waited for Philippe to arrive.
Tonight would be the most perfect night of her life.
~~~
The Marquis de Bellechasse left his horse in a convenient copse and made his careful way forward, pausing at the edge of the trees. Garrison House was reassuringly dark, but moonlight reflected off the ripples on the lake. The summerhouse gleamed white on its little knoll, exposed on all sides. He paused, listening. No sound disturbed the darkness except a nightjar complaining from a nearby oak. He hoped and prayed no one else was up and about tonight. He couldn’t afford to get caught with Gloriana Warren, but nor could he bring himself to ignore her passionate plea to see him once more before they parted.
He loved her—to the point of folly, judging by his current behavior. He had already said farewell, and yet here he was, trespassing on her brother’s estate at midnight to say it again. He dreaded her inevitable tears.
The door to the summerhouse stood wide open, which meant Gloriana was here already. Fine. Best to get it over with now. He took a deep breath and set out across the lawn.
He had almost reached the doorway when she came into view, rising from out of nowhere, her face pale, her hair loose around her bare shoulders. He halted, staring, his heart thundering. She continued to rise, her breasts round and luscious in the light of the moon. His eyes slid helplessly down the curve of her hips to the darker patch at the apex of her thighs . . .
Mordieu. He shook his head and began to back away. “No, chérie. We must not do this.”
She set her feet on the floor—she must have emerged from a trapdoor—and beckoned with those sweet arms, smiled with those lush lips. “Philippe, my darling, please come to me. I love you so much.”
“No, ma belle, I cannot.”
“But love—” She faltered, then continued toward him, arms wide. “Love is eternal. It must not be denied.”
Sacrebleu, she was declaiming like a shoddy actress on the stage. The thought revolted him. Surely his idealistic Gloriana could not cheapen herself so. Anguished, he put up his hands to fend her off. “It is not possible, Gloriana. Not yet. It would not be right.”
She hurried forward, her breasts jiggling enticingly. “Truly, we mustn’t delay. My mother may not have long to live, and seeing me married well is her dearest wish.”
He didn’t care in the least about old Lady Garrison, who was the worst sort of snob. He shook his head. “No. To wait is best.”
“Philippe, I cannot wait. I need you now.” She reached for him, her nakedness inches away.
He gritted his teeth and took another step backwards. His imbecile cock was reacting to her, but he had long ago gained control over its demands. “I am sorry, but I must go.” He turned away.
She wailed, a sharp, keening sound, and immediately a shout came from nearby. Her brother? No, he was in London. A gamekeeper?
Whoever the man might be, he was lurking here on purpose. So much for love, Philippe thought. Gloriana was just another lust-crazed woman trying to trap him into marriage. He turned and ran. Pursued by shouts and then shots, he reached his horse and galloped away.


 About the Author:

Winner of the Holt Medallion, Maggie, Daphne du Maurier, Reviewer’s Choice and Epic awards, Barbara Monajem wrote her first story at eight years old about apple tree gnomes. She published a middle-grade fantasy when her children were young, then moved on to paranormal mysteries and Regency romances with intrepid heroines and long-suffering heroes (or vice versa).

 Barbara loves to cook, especially soups. She used to have two items on her bucket list: to make asparagus pudding and succeed at knitting socks. Asparagus pudding proved to be pretty horrible, and she is too fumble-fingered to make socks. Now she just sticks with writing books. She lives near Atlanta, Georgia with an ever-shifting population of relatives, friends, and feline strays.

Social Links: 

Favorite romance genre of all #MFRWauthor

Well, of course, that title is misleading because there is no favorite romance genre of all. There are favorites and more favorites.

My favorite romance genre to write is contemporary. That covers a wide range of more types: paranormal, erotic, humorous, angsty, ménage, etc. Passionate Destiny is a prodigy book because it’s somewhat humorous, paranormal, and erotic. Probably I like contemporary because I’m lazy. In contemporary romance, there is little truly in depth research that has to be done. I can make up pretty much whatever I want and make it fit into a storyline, whereas when writing historical there is so much to find out about day-to-day living.

For reading, I enjoy contemporary also, but I read a lot of Regency period and other historical romances. I might not enjoy researching all the details that make up a historical romance, but I love reading them! I like some of the best known authors like Julie London, Eloisa James, Mary Balogh, and others, but lately have discovered Kryssie Fortune‘s One Knight Stand and Jan Selbourne. Her book Lies of Gold (Napoleonic setting) was wonderful but I highly recommend Perilous Love (outbreak of World War 1)! I thought that book was simply glorious!!

One thing I know for sure is that I love reading romance! It gets the endorphins going and makes me feel happy. There’s nothing wrong with that, is there?

Read the next blog in the blog hop by going here.

Dee
Naval Maneuvers When a woman requires an earth-shattering crush of pleasure to carry her away, she can’t do better than to call on the US Navy. Sorry, Marines!