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Monday, February 22, 2021

Read an excerpt from The Awakening (A Guardian of Spirits Novel) By Kaylee Johnston #UrbanFantasy #YoungAdult #Excerpt @XpressoTours


The Awakening 

A Guardian of Spirits Novel

By Kaylee Johnston



Not everyone wants magic.

In a world where humans hate witches, there’s no one who hates them more than Jameson Tyler – they are the reason his mother and little sister are dead. Then one morning, he wakes to find those he’s hated for his entire life are now his only hope to understanding his new identity, his new life…as a witch.

Jameson has to get to the witch’s side of town – a place he’s never been and has loathed his entire life – and give up everything he’s ever known before the Witch Special Forces (WSF) captures him. On top of avoiding the WSF, when his new Headmistress attacks him, things get even more complicated.

He must accept his new fate and life before being killed, letting the Magical Community fall into the wrong hands. Can Jameson put his hatred aside or will he let his prejudice destroy them all?


The Awakening
by Kaylee Johnston
(A Guardian of Spirits Novel)
Publication date: February 19th 2021
Genres: Urban Fantasy, Young Adult


EXCERPT

“Who are you?” I stammered, trying to sound more confident than I felt. The guy was still walking toward me, weaving his way through the students and staff frozen in place. 

“I’m Terin,” The guy said, as he came to stop in front of me. “What do you want?” I asked. 

“You.” 

I winced. 

“Me? What do you want with me?”

“Wow, you really don’t know who I am, do you?” 

“No...” 

“I’m Terin.”

“You said that.”

“I did, but you didn’t ask the right question. So whose fault is that?”

I glanced around me, more than a little confused. I finally shrugged.

“It’s yours. Now that’s two things you’re responsible for.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“I mean you didn’t ask the right question and you also froze everyone in this school. See? One. Two.”

My mouth dropped open. I stood there staring for what felt like ages. Terin 

stood there, with his hands behind his back, calmly waiting for me to get over my shock. He finally cleared his throat and I shook my head. He rocked slightly on his heels. 

“What are you playing at? I didn’t freeze everyone here. Only a witch would be able to do something like this and witches aren’t allowed on these grounds,” I said. I glared at him, wanting him to leave. I didn’t want to hear what he had to say. 

“Oh, Jameson. You really don’t know anything about witches, do you?” Terin said, shaking his head. I let out a bark of laughter. 

“I know everything I need to - they’re vile, freaks of nature and they should be exterminated. Why would I need to know anything else?” I spat. 

“Well, for one thing, it’ll help you learn how to control the power you just sent ricocheting throughout your entire school. For another, it’ll help you actually be productive in your new classes,” Terin finished. 

He waved his hand around us, gesturing to everyone who stood silently and unmoving. He turned back to me, where I was silently freaking out. I didn’t want to be here anymore. 

“I didn’t do anything.” 

“Sure you did. When you released your anger in that little temper tantrum, you sent out your power. You were able to send a shock wave through your entire school and freeze everyone here. Must have been really pissed about something to have frozen that many people with your first spell. Quite impressive really,” Terin looked around at the people standing around us, looking mildly amused. 

“I don’t understand,” I shook my head, still not connecting the dots. Terin sighed and said the three words that ruined my entire life: “You’re a witch.” 


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Thursday, February 18, 2021

My review of Beware the Lizard Lurking (The House of the Red Duke, Book 2) by Vivienne Brereton #BookReview #HistoricalFiction #Tudors @VivienneBreret1 @maryanneyarde

 



Beware the Lizard Lurking
(The House of the Red Duke, Book 2)
By Vivienne Brereton


Welcome to the candlelit courts of Europe!

Uninvited guests at a secret wedding.
 
 A frozen River Thames.

 May Day celebrations to remember.

 The young Henry VIII, with the aid of his chief advisor, Thomas Wolsey, and against the counsel of Thomas Howard, the Earl of Surrey, is hellbent on a so-called holy war with France. This puts him at odds with his Scottish brother-in-law, James IV of Scotland, and his older sister, Margaret. 

Both Tristan and Nicolas know that time is running out for them before they have to…enter the Church - and into an arranged marriage, respectively. In the meantime, they remain at loggerheads over pretty Ysabeau de Sapincourt, the spoilt young wife of the hapless Robert.

At La Colombe, near Ardres, in Picardy, spirited little Valentine is still making mischief as she sees fit.

Across the Narrow Sea, Cecily is perfectly content in her beloved Zennor Castle, in Cornwall. 

None of them know what Dame Fortune has in store for them. Will she allow them to follow their own paths…or has she got other ideas?


Publication Date: 12th February 2021
Publisher: Yuletide Press
Page Length: 302 Pages
Genre: Historical Fiction


MY THOUGHTS

Has ever a story began with such a heart-rendering scene? On the eve of Lizzie Staffords wedding to her true love, Ralph Neville, the Howards turn up and ruin everything. Lizzie must forsake the man she loves and marry the cruel and ruthless Thomas Howard.

Imagine Pandora’s Box, but instead of the evil escaping, imagine it is the Howards instead. This novel is about a family that will stop at nothing, that will quite literally trample on anyone who gets in their way, in their quest for power, fame and immortality.

Having not read the first book of this series, I was grateful for the quick catch up note at the beginning of the novel. However, I was slightly aghast when I read the extensive cast list, which was also at the beginning of this novel. I would like to think I have some understanding of Henry VIII’s reign, so I felt quietly confident about the scenes set in England, but I know next to nothing about what was happening in France during this era. Likewise, there are also scenes set in Scotland. My fear was, thankfully, firmly put to rest as I found myself immersed in a story that was packed to bursting with whisperings of a Holy War, ambition, greed, and power.

The majority of this novel is centred around Thomas Howard (the senior one, not the one who married Lizzie). He is a very ambitious man, and despite his advancing years, he is determined to stay within King Henry’s circle, and more importantly, have the King’s ear. He wants Henry to come to him for advice. Unfortunately, Henry has turned to Thomas Wolsey, and this does not go down well with Thomas, and he begins to view Wolsey as an enemy that must be vanquished. This blinkered, almost blinding determination to have his way in everything, regardless of the consequences, made Thomas, for me, an exceedingly unlikeable character. And although there were moments when I was moved to pity due to two of his children’s tragic deaths, I could not find it in my heart to like him.

A character that I did adore was the young Valentine de Fleury. She is a little girl who is absolutely besotted with fifteen-year-old Tristan d’Ardres. I really enjoyed the scenes with Valentine in them. She is such a spirited like girl who was more than a match for the older Tristan. The scene where she made him play kings and queens was quite hilarious!

Tristan was a character that I enjoyed reading about. His youthfulness exuberant, his devil may care attitude towards danger and his desperate longing for Ysabeau de Sapincourt, a married woman, meant that I highly doubt he will ever enter the Church as he is predestined to do! I thought Tristan’s depiction was perfect in its delivery.

There are several scenes with the Scottish King, James IV, and his Tudor wife, Margaret. It was interesting to read about the dilemma James faced by his brother-in-law’s reckless pursuit of a war with France. James really was torn between England and France when it came to deciding which country he was going to support.

Although most of this story is centred around the Tudor court, Henry VIII only makes a cameo appearance. But the scenes he is in portrays him as a reckless, juvenile character in possession of far too much power and money.

I think fans of historical fiction set in the Tudor era will enjoy this novel. I know that I certainly did!




Vivienne Brereton


Born between historic Winchester and Southampton in the UK, Vivienne has been passionate about the Tudors for as long as she can remember. This led to a degree in Medieval History at university, and the growing desire to write a novel.

However, life took over somewhat and only after stays, short and long, in six countries she called home did she finally settle down to finish her novel.

Words have always played an important part in her life, whether it's been writing, editing, teaching English, or just picking up a good book.

Having three sons came in very handy when she had to write about squabbles between the male characters in her novel. Not so handy when she took her boys to Hampton Court and one of them got lost in the maze!

Seeing 'A Phoenix Rising', the first book in the series 'The House of the Red Duke' in print for the first time was a moment of great joy for her. She very much hopes that anyone reading ‘Beware the Lizard Lurking’, the second book in the series, will enjoy the end result as much as she enjoyed writing it.

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Tuesday, February 16, 2021

Read an EXCERPT from The London Monster by Donna Scott #HistoricalFiction #BlogTour #CoffeePotBookClub @D_ScottWriter @maryanneyarde

 



The London Monster
By Donna Scott



In 1788, exactly one hundred years before Jack the Ripper terrorizes the people of London, a sexual miscreant known as the London Monster roams the streets in search of his next victim…

Thomas Hayes, having lost his mother in a vicious street assault, becomes an underground pugilist on a mission to rid the streets of violent criminals. But his vigilante actions lead to him being mistaken for the most terrifying criminal of all.

Assistance arrives in the form of Sophie Carlisle, a young journalist with dreams of covering a big story, though she is forced to masquerade as a man to do it. Trapped in an engagement to a man she doesn’t love, Sophie yearns to break free to tell stories that matter about London’s darker side—gaming, prostitution, violence—and realizes Tom could be the one to help. Together, they come up with a plan.

Straddling the line between his need for vengeance and the need to hide his true identity as a politician's son becomes increasingly difficult as Tom is pressured to win more fights. The more he wins, the more notoriety he receives, and the greater the chance his identity may be exposed—a revelation that could jeopardize his father’s political aspirations and destroy his family’s reputation. 

Sophie is also in danger as hysteria spreads and the attacks increase in severity and frequency. No one knows who to trust, and no one is safe—Tom included, yet he refuses to end the hunt.

Little does he realize, the monster is also hunting him.


EXCERPT


A Note

August 1789

I have little patience for misinformation.  First of all, I did not attack a Miss Kitty Wheeler in the Ranelagh pleasure garden.  I only whispered some indelicacies in her ear.  There were far too many people meandering about on that enchanted summer night, so I would never have been so reckless as to draw my knife.  I am not a fool, after all.

But the papers always manage to get it wrong.  Or perhaps it’s the women.  I have been described as a thin, vulgar-looking man with ugly legs and feet.  How would they know the true nature of my legs and feet?  Do I go about without stockings and shoes?  I think not!  Some accounts describe me as short with a villainous, narrow face, yet others paint me as a small, big-nosed man with curly hair, a tall man of regular features, or foreign-looking with a dark complexion.  I have been said to wear all-black clothing, a brown greatcoat and striped waistcoat, or a blue silk coat with ruffled details and blue and white stockings.  They say I have long slicked hair, plaited behind and turned up, or loose curls and a round or cocked hat with or without a cockade.  Essentially, I look like everyone or no one at all.

The Morning Chronicle has often referred to me as a ‘miscreant’ or a ‘wretch’.  The Oracle is less judgmental and therefore uses terms like ‘attacker’ and ‘perpetrator’.  But the World is the most accurate of the papers, for it portrays the women as the real monsters.  They are the ones whose histrionics and featherbrained ways have placed all men in danger, for any innocent man can be accused of being me with one wrong look or harmless suggestion.

And that is how I do it.  First, with a kind word or two, and then with a proposition.  The circumstances—whether the object of my affection sways her hips when she walks or strides forward with impatience and arrogance—will determine how I choose my words.  The lady who entertains me first with the rhythmic swish of her skirts as I follow behind her will always get the kinder introduction.  Perhaps a compliment before I express my true wishes.  But it is the haughty jilt who will take the brunt of it.  I might whisper a vulgarity in her delicate pink ear, comment on my growing arousal or the bounce of her breasts.  What brings me the most pleasure is that first gasp, the initial moment of shock which registers in her raised brow and parted lips, a sure sign I have offended.  After that, it is not exactly pleasure I feel, but anger that burns my chest—a building rage.  Every desire I’ve ever had spills freely from my tongue and coats her like the soot on a hearth’s bricks.  She might fight to get away—most of them do—but I am stronger, faster.  And it is only then that I draw my blade. 


Chapter 1

September 1789

Newgate Prison, London 

Even as he stood atop the wooden cart with his hands bound and a rope around his neck, Thomas Hayes didn’t regret what he had done.  Only three people knew the truth of it, of course—the lady involved, her assailant, and him.  But without the victim coming forth, no one would believe Tom’s pleas of innocence.

Behind him, a chandler stirred the boiling tallow that was meant to cover Tom’s dead body when the deed was done.  The unpleasant odour of rancid lard filled his nostrils, yet strangely made him awfully hungry at the same time.  He should have been hanged in the morning, but as the hours passed and no one came to retrieve him, he thought they’d reconsidered and decided the best way of death would be from starvation.  He hadn’t eaten in two days, either because his gaolers forgot to feed him or because they simply thought it unnecessary.  Either way, his mouth watered and stomach growled in what was to be the last day of his two and twenty years of life.

He imagined his father’s expression when he finally read the news from the Morning Herald or the Public Ledger:  Son of Candidate Joseph Hayes Hanged at Newgate for Attempted Murder.  His father’s face would drop into his hands, his head shaking with disappointment, and his dreams of becoming a member of the House of Commons turning to ash with each blazing written word.

The two men awaiting execution to Tom’s left mumbled their prayers.  Tom had said his that morning as he took the sacrament from the chaplain, having satisfied the man’s religious estimation that he was truly repentant.  But he wasn’t.  He’d do it all again if presented with the same circumstances.

The gibbet stood only a foot higher than his head, and the ground little more than three feet below him.  He wore the same clothes he had been wearing the night he had attended the party at Apsley House, and knew with certainty that had his brothers been informed of his fate—another reason to curse him for ruining their family name—they would purchase his clothing and shoes back from the executioner once he was hanged.  They were plain but beautifully made, his coat and breeches of the finest worsted wool and his shirt of white linen, now stained from weeks lying on the dirt floor of his cell.  Sadly, his recently purchased cocked hat was nowhere to be found.  The two men beside him were less formally dressed, both in crudely made hemp clothing, their brown forms slumped and feeble.  From the look on the spectators’ faces, he knew that he stood out like a peacock on parade.

The constable beside him nodded, and the executioner covered Tom’s bare head and face with a coarse white linen sack.  “There you go, lad.”

The bag scratched the skin on the bridge of his nose, so he tried to wriggle it away as best he could, considering the rope pressed tightly against his throat.  He was to be hanged in chains once he was declared dead—as were all felons, particularly those accused of attempted murder—and placed on display as carrion for nearby birds looking to feast on his remains.  That part bothered him the most.  He thanked God that his mother wasn’t alive to see it.  

The crowd suddenly hushed, telling him he had only seconds left to live.  He took a deep breath through his mouth to avoid the tallow stench and relaxed as much as he could.  The sound of a bare hand slapping the horse’s hindquarters, then the jingling of its tack registered in his mind as the last sounds he would ever hear.  The cart below him shifted forward, and he stumbled to stay atop, but the flooring disappeared and the noose jerked him upright unforgivingly.  It was the last thing he remembered.



If you fancy reading the rest of the book then you can grab your copy from:




Donna Scott


Donna Scott is an award-winning author of 17th and 18th century historical fiction. Before embarking on a writing career, she spent her time in the world of academia. She earned her BA in English from the University of Miami and her MS and EdD (ABD) from Florida International University. She has two sons and lives in sunny South Florida with her husband. Her first novel, Shame the Devil, received the first place Chaucer Award for Historical Fiction and a Best Book designation from Chanticleer International Book Reviews.


Connect with Donna:









Read an excerpt from Richard Tearle's book, The North Finchley Writers’ Group #ContemporaryRomance #BlogTour #CoffeePotBookClub @lordf34 @HelenHollick @maryanneyarde

 




The North Finchley Writers’ Group 
By Richard Tearle, with Helen Hollick


When a group of north London writers meet each month for a chat, coffee, and cake – what else is on their agenda? Constructive criticism? New Ideas? An exciting project? And maybe, more than one prospective romance...?

Eavesdrop on the monthly meetings of the North Finchley Writers' Group, follow some ordinary people with a love of story writing, and an eagerness for success. Discover, along with them, the mysteries of creating characters and plot, of what inspires ideas, and how real life can, occasionally, divert the dream...

Publication Date: 2nd February 2021
Publisher: Taw River Press
Page Length: 142 pages
Genre: Contemporary Romance

Read an excerpt...

THE ANTHOLOGY
Angela Knight's House – Friern Barnet, January 2019

'Anthologies are very popular at the moment.' 

Angela Knight kicked off the monthly meeting of the North Finchley Writers' Group following the usual business of apologies for absence. Quite a few today – hardly surprising, given the time of year and the cold, and until recently wet, weather. We were meeting in her house in north London’s Friern Barnet, so it was her honour to facilitate the proceedings.

Angela is petite, mid-forties. Hypnotising green eyes, natural blonde hair. She usually dresses in t-shirt and jeans but was wearing a baggy brown jumper and long floral-patterned skirt tonight. Very Bohemian.

'I've read a couple of anthologies,' I agreed.

'But they aren't proper –' Monty Donaldson. He clicked his fingers in the air to indicate inverted commas, '”Books”, are they?' One of us who had not been published.

'Oh?' Angela queried. 'Really? Why do you say that, Monty?' Those two did not see eye to eye. In fact, it was rare for any of us to agree with Monty because he was such an insufferable bore.

Monty was not put off. He never was. Sarcasm and irony went scudding over his head like clouds in a gale. 'I mean, a book is a story, a theme, lots of characters and incidents. Action. Beginning, middle and end. Short stories are, well, nothing more than that. Short and cute. No real substance.'

'Tell that to Ray Bradbury,' Zak Nichols murmured from where he sat in an armchair nearest to the blaze of a real coal and log fire. I knew from experience that he’d have to move soon, or he’d roast.

'What do you think of that, Rob? Anthologies are compiled of short stories, which you write for a living, after all.' Angela turned directly to me. The glint in her eye told me that it wouldn't worry her in the slightest if I started a real argument. Indeed, she was practically encouraging it. The minx.

'I’ve contributed to an anthology of stories about Richard the Third, enjoyed other such historical-based anthologies. Most of the great writers in the world have started off with short stories,' I pointed out. 'Bradbury – as Zak said – Dickens, Margaret Atwood. One way of honing your craft. Especially if you are waiting to hear from a publisher about something you've submitted.' A little dig, of course. One that took wings but also flew over Monty's head. As usual. 

But alliance with Monty came from a surprise corner. Charlotte Caroll.

'I sort of agree with Monty,' she put in hesitantly. She flushed slightly beneath her immaculate coiffured hair, and nodded to Monty.

Hello! Have we got something here? Virginal Georgian heiress infatuated with slick talking Chicago private eye?

'You do?' queried Alicia St Simon. Peroxide blonde. Older than she looks. 'You do surprise me!'

Charlotte flushed again, and it was not just the heat of the fire burning her cheeks. 

'Well,' she stumbled. 'Er, let's look at what Rob just said. None of the rest of us write historical fiction. I write Regency romances and that's completely different.' She was blustering and we knew that she knew that we knew. As the old song goes.

'Who said anything about historical fiction?' Angela remarked, sitting back in her chair and crossing her legs. A glimpse of ankle. I smiled to myself, put that into an historical context and smoke it!

'Well, no one, but I thought that's what you meant.'

'And if we were, what makes you think you couldn't write something historical?' Jean Hart entered the discussion, pulling up the sleeves of her pink, fluffy jumper, as if she were getting ready for a fight, although it was probably only because the room was getting rather warm.

'My setting might be Regency but the theme is romance. Beyond clothes, horses, carriages and balls I use very little historical fact. Austen wrote Pride And Prejudice which was set during a very big war between England and France, but she barely made mention of it! Battles and things are of no interest to me. Warfare is not my subject.' Charlotte replied haughtily. She had a point about Jane Austen.

'Nor mine.' Monty would not be left out. 'How would I fit my hard-nose PI Marty Diamond into a story set in, say, the English Civil War?'

Very badly. I bit back the retort and helped myself to another handful of peanuts from the glass bowl on the coffee table.

Angela caught my look. Knew what I was thinking. We were often on the same wavelength, more so when it involved goading Monty.

Angela steered the conversation back to the original point. 'I did a little bit of looking into this before I selected it as a topic, and there are a lot out there. All sorts of topics. World War I, World War II. London. I came across a blogger who has a feature on her book review blog every December, when she invites her reviewers to contribute stories inspired by songs.'

'I like that,' I grinned. 'And there you are, Monty. Private Investigations. Dire Straits.'
'I could always email her and ask if we could borrow the idea, if we decided to do something similar.' Hilary Jackson, one of our “mature” members, and our Arthurian expert.

Angela leaned forward, smiled prettily. 'Hold on! It was only meant to be a discussion topic, not a pitch for actually doing an anthology. A bit of fun, I thought.'

'It is fun,' Hilary continued. 'I'm really warming to the idea.'

I glanced, discretely, at everyone’s faces. Charlotte and Monty were not impressed, but the others were sitting upright or forward, full of eagerness. Had we hit upon something by accident?


* * *  (After the meeting...)

Time to go home. There was a bustle of fetching coats, gloves and scarves, exclamations at the cold beyond the front door. I begged the use of the loo and, by the time I returned, everyone had gone.

We stood just inside the open front door, Angela and I, looking out at the frost riming the garden path and the tops of cars parked in the street beyond, admiring how it twinkled beneath the bright street lights.

'I'm really sorry, Rob,' she apologised. 'It was meant to be a light hearted discussion but it got rather out of hand. I never meant…'

'I know,' I said softly. 

It was a moment that I never wanted to end. Her kiss was less passionate than it was affectionate.

'You'd better go,' she sighed. 'Steve will be home soon.'

'Yes.'

'I'm sorry'.

'I know. So am I.'

She opened the door and, when I glanced back, she was still watching me, her hands clutched around her arms. I waved and then she closed the door.

I rubbed my right temple as I walked to the car. Lit a cigarette. There was no doubt that Angela excited me. Her very presence in the room made me want to be around her. But she was in a relationship. And so was I.

Liz and I had our ups and downs, although lately there have been more downs than usual. But we came through them.

We always did.

I guess.



A Word From Richard Tearle :

“To the writing community, whether they be traditionally published, indie or aspiring.  
You make the rocking world go round...Writers are such a wonderful community – supportive, helpful and ever willing to give their time and expertise to one humble chap such as I. Thank you all from the bottom of my heart. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”
Richard – December 2020

A Word From Helen Hollick:

It was with great enthusiasm that I encouraged Richard to write this, his first novel. His enjoyment of creating a good story, I felt, should be shared to readers and writers, everywhere. Unfortunately, at the editing stage, Richard became ill, involving hospitalisation. In discussion with his son, rather than abandon the project or put it on hold, we decided that the best course of action was for me to continue with getting this book published on his behalf. The characters, plot – the story – are all Richard’s immense talent, I merely tidied up and added the final polish, coming in as ‘painter and decorator’ to Richard’s main role as architect, designer, and builder. 








Wednesday, February 10, 2021

My review of The Search (Across the Great Divide, Book II) by Michael L. Ross #HistoricalFiction #TheSearch #CoffeePotBookClub @MichaelLRoss7 @maryanneyarde

 



The Search
(Across the Great Divide, Book II)
By Michael L. Ross


Where do you go when home is no longer an option?

The guns of the Civil War have ceased firing, and the shots are but an echo... yet the war rages on, deep inside Will Crump's soul. His "soldier's heart" is searching for peace, and in that quest Will joins the westward movement, setting his path on a collision course with adventure, loss, and love.

The Westward Expansion floods the sacred, untouched lands with immigrants, bringing conflict to the Shoshone, Sioux, Cheyenne, and Arapaho. Amidst the chaos Will finds safety in the shadow of the US Army, but the army brings battle-hardened troops into Red Cloud's War, pulling Will into a tornado of conflict. Broken treaties and promises leave both sides searching for answers. Will's search leads him to a battle for survival, and there he finds a love that could change him forever.

Dove, a young Shoshone woman, is a survivor of the Bear Creek Massacre. After being kidnapped and escaping from the Cheyenne, she joins Will's search, seeking where she belongs. Dove longs for more than the restricted role placed on women in her tribe. If she can learn to trust a white man, he just might help her find home... and hope.

Together, Will and Dove must search for understanding, and reach Across the Great Divide.

Publication Date: December 15, 2020
Publisher: HistoricalNovelsRUS
Page Length: 217 Pages
Genre: Historical Fiction, Christian Historical Fiction, Historical Romance

MY THOUGHTS

If ever a book is deserving of its own soundtrack then it is most certainly this one. The majestic beauty of the frontier has been brought vividly back to life in Michael L. Ross' new release—The Search (Across The Great Divide, Book 2).

Having not read Book 1, I was a little apprehensive about reading this novel. But, having been assured that this book did standalone I cautiously agreed to read and review it. To my delight, I quickly discovered that if I have not known that is was Book 2 in a series, I would never have come to that conclusion by myself. This novel stands very firmly on its own two feet, and apart from wanting to know precisely what happened to Will during the Civil War and the years he spent as a prisoner-of-war, I did not feel that I had missed anything from not reading Book 1 first.

This is a story of forbidden love and emotional healing. The story of Will Crump is incredibly moving. Based upon an actual historical person, this novel fills in the missing years of Will's life. With careful consideration and understanding of the era, the author has penned a plausible story for what happened to Will during those missing years he spent in the mountains. With the ongoing American Indian Wars, it made sense that despite Will's desperate desire for peace, he would end up being dragged into the conflict.

Will struggles with his emotions throughout this novel. He is also a deeply religious man who tries to live an honest Christian life, and although he sometimes doubts his prayers are heard, he never renounces his God, not even for the woman whom he is falling in love with. Thus being religiously conflicted, Will battles to make sense of his growing desire and love for the young Shoshone woman he saved. Dove becomes Will's salvation, his redemption. She certainly brings him a level of peace that even the mountains would not have been able to give him. But there is so much against them, so many obstacles to clear that there is a sense of the ill-fated in their relationship. As a couple, Will and Dove were adorable, and they certainly complimented each other as beautifully as the sun does the moon, but they do come from two very different worlds and interracial relationships, especially when it came to marriage, was frowned upon. Nevertheless, I found myself rooting for this couple and really hoping for a positive and romantic outcome.

I really enjoyed reading The Search. I can honestly say that this book will stay with a reader a long time after they have turned the last page. I know it will stay with me for a very long time. 



Michael L. Ross



Best-selling author Michael Ross is a lover of history and great stories. He's a retired software engineer turned author, with three children and five grandchildren, living in Newton, Kansas with his wife of forty years. He was born in Lubbock, Texas, and still loves Texas. The main character of "Across the Great Divide", William Dorsey Crump, is one of the founders of Lubbock and Shallowater, Texas. Michael knew Will's granddaughter when he was a child. He has written a scholarly article on Will Crump for the Texas Historical Society, published in the Handbook of Texas Online, and has sold short stories in the past. This is his first novel and the first in the Across the Great Divide series, now an Amazon bestseller.

Michael attended Rice University as an undergraduate, and Portland State University for his graduate degree. He has degrees in computer science, software engineering, and German. In his spare time, Michael loves to go fishing, riding horses, and play with his grandchildren, who are currently all under six years old.

He sees many parallels between the time of the Civil War and our divided nation of today. Sanctuary cities, immigration, arguments around the holiday table, threats of secession - all are nothing new. Sometimes, to understand the present, you have to look at the past- and reach Across the Great Divide.  











Read an excerpt from Jude & Bliss By Mal Foster #HistoricalFiction #Victorian #BlogTour #CoffeePotBookClub @malfosterwriter @maryanneyarde

 


Being a host for The Coffee Pot Book Club introduces me to so many new books, I love it! Today I'm sharing with you an excerpt from Mal Foster's book! First, let's take a book at the blurb...

Jude & Bliss

By Mal Foster




In the Victorian era, for many young women, going into domestic service was a significant source of employment where they found suitable work but with extended hours for a reasonable salary, receiving free accommodation as well as enjoying the perks and prestige of working for the aristocracy or other members of the upper or middle-classes.

As a matter of course, employers had a moral obligation, but one without a legal requirement to ensure their servants were kept clean, healthy and well-nourished. However, for one poor girl, that, unfortunately, was not the case.

In 1896, Jude Rogers, a wide-eyed but vulnerable sixteen-year-old from Woking, Surrey, secures a position as a domestic servant at a large terraced house in Half Moon Street, near London's Piccadilly. Following a brief settling-in period, she quickly realises everything is not quite as it seems.

As time moves ruthlessly forward, what happens next is almost beyond comprehension. Jude finds herself in the most impossible of situations and finally succumbs to the pure evil dealt out by her employer.

This story is NOT for the faint-hearted!

Publication Date: 12 November 2020
Publisher: Publish Nation
Page Length: 234
Genre: Historical Fiction

EXCERPT

It was the day of Jude’s burial. A horse-drawn carriage from the funeral stables in the village was due outside our house with her coffin at ten o’clock. My Auntie Mabel and Uncle Charlie had arrived with my cousin Ronald from London. Everyone was silent, and I was becoming embarrassed because Dad was refusing to come to the cemetery.

‘I’m not going down there to watch them put my beautiful daughter in the ground,’ he kept saying.

My concerns for him had been increasing as each day passed. He was hardly talking, just hiding in his bedroom, sleeping by day, and going downstairs at night. He was living on a diet of bread and dripping and pots of tea. The money for whiskey had run out, and he was becoming even more depressed. He had lost so much weight in just a few weeks; he could hardly bear to look at himself in the mirror.

A manager from the railway company had been to visit, but Dad just shouted at him and told the poor man to bugger off. Mrs Skilton from next door had also been around to check on Dad, but he wouldn’t listen to her advice, even though she used to be a nurse. In turn, this wasn’t helping me. I knew I had to be strong. I had to be strong for Jude to make sure she reached her final resting place without any hiccups.

As it approached ten o’clock, our friends from the village gathered outside in anticipation of the arrival of the hearse. When it arrived, I could see the undertakers had laid Jude in a shiny polished coffin. ‘English elm,’ the senior undertaker said. The hearse was being pulled by two tall black horses in all their splendour, adorned with pure white feathered plumes.

‘White plumes, not black?’ I mumbled.

‘White plumes because your sister is a virgin child,’ said Auntie Mabel.

As we were all about to leave, Dad emerged, shaven and wearing his favourite tweed suit and a black necktie. The suit looked like it had grown far too big for him. Cousin Ronald and I grabbed his arms and supported him down to the cemetery.

The small procession, led by the hearse, took about forty-five minutes to walk until we got to an open plot on the south side of Cemetery Pales. It was a few feet away from a fresh grave which looked like it had only recently been filled. Two gravediggers were standing and smoking under a nearby fir tree, and I could see Sergeant Greenaway arriving behind us on his new bicycle. It was starting to rain a little, and a young boy was holding up an umbrella for the pastor. 

‘Why is there no service in the chapel?’ asked Auntie Mabel.

‘I don’t know; it was never spoken about,’ I replied.

‘She was a good Christian though, young Jude, wasn’t she?’

‘Yes, of course, she was.’

‘Then she should have had a proper ceremony. Full service with hymns and prayers and a eulogy.’

Just then, Sergeant Greenaway intervened.

‘Don’t be too harsh on the lad. Young Harry here has done his best under difficult circumstances, and remember, he’s had to care for his father too. As you can see, Isaac has taken the death of his daughter extremely hard, and it’s made him quite ill.’

At the graveside, the pastor muttered a few words, and not being a religious sort; they were words I didn’t understand.



Mal Foster

Mal Foster was born in 1956 in Farnham, Surrey and grew up in nearby Camberley. He was educated at secondary modern level but left school at just fifteen years old to help support his single mother and younger brother. It was around this time that he began writing, and indeed, his first poems were published soon after.  

In 2007 his most widely read poem The Wedding was published in the Australian Secondary Schools anthology Poetry Unlocked' a book that formed part of its English Literature exam curriculum. The irony of its inclusion has always amused Mal considering he left school before gaining any formal qualifications himself.  

A former local journalist, his first novel The Asylum Soul, a historical tale of incarceration was published in 2015. A second book, Fly Back and Purify, a paranormal drama appeared in 2017. Described as an explosive conspiracy thriller, An Invisible Nemesis was published at the beginning of May 2019.

In November 2020, his fourth novel, Jude & Bliss, was published and marked a return to historical fiction for Mal. "This book is close to my heart, it's the one, I think, which will define the course of my future writing," he told one observer. 



Sunday, February 7, 2021

The Fall of Kings (Legend of the Cid, Book 3) by Stuart Rudge #NewRelease #HistoricalFiction #CoffeePotBookClub @stu_rudge @maryanneyarde

 


The Fall of Kings

(Legend of the Cid, Book 3)

By Stuart Rudge



Castile. 1071AD. Three kings. One crown.

After Sancho II of Castile dispatches his champion Rodrigo Diaz de Vivar to capture his brother, King Garcia of Galicia, he hopes it is a defining moment in his quest to reunite the lands of his father under one banner. But Alfonso VI of Leon is one step ahead, and has already added the lands of Galicia to his domain. When the only alternative is war, Sancho turns to Rodrigo to lead the armies of Castile, and he must use all his tactical acumen to defeat the Leonese in the field. Only one son of Fernando can claim victory and become the Emperor of Hispania.

Rodrigo and Antonio Perez, now a knight of the realm, find difficulty adjusting to the new regime. Dissent and unrest run rife throughout the kingdom, and the fear of a knife in the dark from enemies old and new hangs heavy upon the pair. But if it is allowed to fester, it threatens to undo all that has been achieved. Can Rodrigo and Antonio root out the enemies of the king, and prevent chaos reigning throughout the land?

The Fall of Kings in the breath taking third instalment of the Legend of the Cid.


Publication Date: February 5th 2021
Publisher: Independently Published
Page Length: 406 pages
Genre: Historical Fiction



Stuart Rudge

Stuart Rudge was born and raised in Middlesbrough, where he still lives. His love of history came from his father and uncle, both avid readers of history, and his love of table top war gaming and strategy video games. He studied Ancient History and Archaeology at Newcastle University, and has spent his fair share of time in muddy trenches, digging up treasure at Bamburgh Castle.

He was worked in the retail sector and volunteered in museums, before working in York Minster, which he considered the perfect office. His love of writing blossomed within the historic walls, and he knew there were stories within which had to be told. Despite a move in to the shipping and logistics sector (a far cry to what he hoped to ever do), his love of writing has only grown stronger.

Rise of a Champion is the first piece of work he has dared to share with the world. Before that came a novel about the Roman Republic and a Viking-themed fantasy series (which will likely never see the light of day, but served as good practise). He hopes to establish himself as a household name in the mound of Bernard Cornwell, Giles Kristian, Ben Kane and Matthew Harffy, amongst a host of his favourite writers.






Thursday, February 4, 2021

My review of She Sees Ghosts―The Story of a Woman Who Rescues Lost Souls (Part of the Adirondack Spirit Series) By David Fitz-Gerald #HistoricalFiction #Supernatural #CoffeePotBookClub @AuthorDAVIDFG @maryanneyarde

 


She Sees Ghosts―The Story of a Woman Who Rescues Lost Souls
(Part of the Adirondack Spirit Series)
By David Fitz-Gerald


A blazing fire killed her family and devoured her home. A vengeful demon haunted her. Ghosts of the Revolutionary War needed help that only she could provide. A young woman languished, desperate to survive, and teetered on the edge of sanity.

Mehitable grew up in a freshly tamed town, carved from the primeval forest. Family, friends, and working at the mercantile filled her days and warmed her heart. For Mehitable, life was simple and safe, until tragedy struck. When her family perished in their burning home, she retreated into a world of her own making.

As a young girl, she had seen glimmers, glimpses, and flickers of the spirit world. She closed her eyes. She turned her back. She ignored the apparitions that she never spoke of, desperately hoping they would leave her in peace. She was mistaken.

Grief-stricken, Mehitable withdrew from the human world. Ghosts were everywhere. They became bolder. She could no longer turn her back on the spirit world. Her friends feared for her survival. Nobody understood her. She would have to find her own way.

Fans of TV’s Ghost Whisperer and Long Island Medium will especially love She Sees Ghosts. This historical novel features memorable characters and delivers bone-tingling, spine chilling goosebumps. It stands on its own and it is the next installment in the Adirondack Spirit Series by the award-winning author of Wanders Far―An Unlikely Hero’s Journey. David Fitz-Gerald delivers a historical novel with a bittersweet ending that you won’t see coming.

Would she save the spirits’ souls, or would they save her? Only time would tell.

Publication Date: October 25, 2020 
Publisher: Outskirts Press
Page Length: 270 pages
Genre Historical/Supernatural

MY THOUGHTS!

As time passes and the town gets ready to celebrate the coming of a new century, Mehitable is getting ready to celebrate her sixteenth birthday. Mehitable celebrates alongside the town, but a tragic fire leads to the loss of her family, leaving Mehitable with her virginal, a few animals, and a demon who visits her nightly…

This book took me on a journey as Mehitable struggles after the death of her family and with the ghosts that she glimpses as she goes about her day-to-day life. Through the ghosts, we learn about the battles fought, whether they were won or lost, for who better to tell stories of times long past than those who lived and died there? Mehitable is a powerful young woman, both desperate for and trying to avoid falling in love. Her ideal man would be tough to find if he weren’t married to her best friend.

Mehitable and Polly grew up together, and there was a joke once that Reuben should marry both of them. Despite marrying Polly rather than Mehitable, there are little to no hard feelings. Simply refusing to sleep in a house, as her family were when they died, Mehitable moves into Polly and Reuben’s barn, sleeping amongst the sheep. Seeing how the ghosts appear in Mehitable’s life as she goes about her chores was fascinating. There were definitely some interesting characters – ghosts who were just too pleased to be telling someone about their life story, while there were some who just wanted to make sure their families were okay.

The story perfectly depicted how a town can start from nothing and grow to fruition, how it can start with a small clearing and the idea for a house and become a thriving community. I felt like I was watching the place develop in front of my eyes as I read. It was vastly entertaining to watch the growth of the town with each new family that moved in and each child that was born.

The horrors that Mehitable faces, the loss of her entire family and the sleepless nights as she is haunted, are faced so very bravely by the gentle soul that Mehitable has, only wanting a life of peace and happiness. Her kindness to everyone she meets, even if they don’t return the simple gesture of greeting her as they pass, made me care greatly for her and I felt incredibly sorry for her as she tries to cope with the abuse of the demon. Mehitable is such an incredible friend to Polly and she returns the gesture, the bond between the two unbreakable as they live like sisters, baking and gardening together and sharing secrets that they would never tell anyone else. Their friendship was beautiful to read about and I felt the joy and losses alongside them as they navigated their way through life.

From watching the growth of a new town, the start of a new family and ghosts who may or may not even know that they are dead, She Sees Ghosts is a story of creation and destruction, birth and death, joy and sorrow.

I Highly Recommend.




David Fitz-Gerald

David Fitz-Gerald writes fiction that is grounded in history and soars with the spirits. Dave enjoys getting lost in the settings he imagines and spending time with the characters he creates. Writing historical fiction is like making paintings of the past. He loves to weave fact and fiction together, stirring in action, adventure, romance, and a heavy dose of the supernatural with the hope of transporting the reader to another time and place. He is an Adirondack 46-er, which means that he has hiked all of the highest peaks in New York State, so it should not be surprising when Dave attempts to glorify hikers as swashbuckling superheroes in his writing. She Sees Ghosts―A Story of a Woman Who Rescues Lost Souls is the next installment in the Adirondack Spirit Series.