Kathleen Harryman is sharing her journey on becoming an author. #HistoricalRomance #WW2 #ThePromise @KathleenHarrym1 @maryanneyarde

THE PROMISE

A World War II Historical Romance

By Kathleen Harryman and Lucy Marshall

How far would you go to keep a promise?
In the heat of battle, one man's promise to another will be tested.

September 1939

As Britain is gripped by the fear and uncertainty of war, Tom Armitage stands to gain the one thing that he never thought possible - his freedom.

Rosie Elliot sees her future crumbling to dust as Will Aarons leaves Whitby with Jimmy Chappell to fight in the war. As she begins work at The Turnstone Convalescent Home, Rosie finds something she thought she had lost. Friendship. But friendship soon turns to love. Can this new love replace Will?

This is not an ordinary love story.
It's a story of love, loss, courage, and honour.
Of promises that must be kept or risk losing everything you've ever held dear.

Kathleen Harryman is sharing her journey on becoming an author

 

The journey to becoming an author started with my parents. Ever since I can remember they have read to me. Once I could read for myself that was it and I would spend my spare time with my nose buried in a book.

 

Of course becoming a published author is not as easy as picking a book off the shelf and losing track of time. You’re the writer for a start, and there is no story without you.

 

I’ve always been the creative type, and I have spent many hours daydreaming and writing stories in my head. To such a degree I thought writing one would be easy. Well was I in for a shock.

 

The concept of the story, for me to is the easy part. It can start with one line, which is normally the opening line, or it can begin life with an emotion; how something made me feel. Once an idea takes shape in my head, the concept grows. I tend to always know where I am starting and finishing. The rest is where it all comes together.

 

I also enjoy all the research. You learn so much! It’s the characters that make writing so difficult.

 

I always feel that for any character to be believable they have to be so real that they even test the author. Mine certainly have. There are times when I have had to walk away from them, give us all some space, before I am able to finish that particular sentence, or chapter.

 

Character development is a key aspect, and I never like to plot so much that there is nothing left for the character to do, but to follow the well-rehearsed script.

 

The Promise was the first true romance I wrote. My first book (The Other Side of the Looking Glass) is a romantic suspense.

 

The Promise is different to what I have written previously. Historical novels need to be accurate according to their timelines. Speech is also a key area. Many words used during the 1930s aren’t spoken in today’s world.

 

What I like about romance is that it is felt. You laugh, you cry, and you go through everything the characters go through. Some you will hate, others you will get angry with. But for any romance to be successful, the reader needs to feel every bit of emotion.

 

I admit that while writing The Promise I cried loads of times. And I know it has had the same reaction from many readers. It’s not that the book is soppy, but that the characters are so real.

 

Writing historical fiction allows me to explore a time in life that is very different than our own. One of the scenes with Rosie shows her dream of having a toilet inside the house and a bath. We take such things for granted, and yet back in the 1930’s, not everyone had such luxuries. It is these small things that set an historical story apart from other romances.

 

The drive behind writing The Promise was a chance to write about my grandfather who died in Normandy in 1944. Lance-Corporal Chappell died aged 28. He left behind a wife and son (my dad Neville Chappell).

 

The Promise though based around my grandfather is not a memoir. It is a story within its own right. What The Promise has allowed me to do is pay tribute to my grandfather and all those who fought, worked and died during WWII. To the brave men and women, of which some now have been forgotten. I hope that through the telling of The Promise they will be remembered.

 

Through the retelling some of the stories my relatives have told me, The Promise has taken me on a wonderful journey. I feel more connected with the past now than ever before.

 

My journey as an author continues to grow. I am forever learning new skills.

 

Amazon

Kathleen Harryman

Kathleen Harryman is a storyteller and poet in the historically rich city of York, North Yorkshire, England, with her husband, children and pet dog and cat.

Kathleen was first published in 2015, a romantic suspense entitled The Other Side of the Looking Glass. Since then, Kathleen has developed a unique writing style which readers have enjoyed, and she became a multi-genre author of suspense, psychological thrillers, poetry and historical romance.

Connect with Kathleen: Website • Facebook • Instagram • YouTube • Twitter • IAN

My review of Five Feet Apart by Rachael Lippincott, Mikki Daughtry and Tobias Iaconis.

 

Five Feet Apart

 By Rachael Lippincott, Mikki Daughtry and Tobias Iaconis

Can you love someone you can never touch?

Stella Grant likes to be in control - even though her totally out of control lungs have sent her in and out of the hospital most of her life. At this point, what Stella needs to control most is keeping herself away from anyone or anything that might pass along an infection and jeopardize the possibility of a lung transplant. Six feet apart. No exceptions.

The only thing Will Newman wants to be in control of is getting out of this hospital. He couldn’t care less about his treatments, or a fancy new clinical drug trial. Soon, he’ll turn eighteen and then he’ll be able to unplug all these machines and actually go see the world, not just its hospitals.

Will’s exactly what Stella needs to stay away from. If he so much as breathes on Stella she could lose her spot on the transplant list. Either one of them could die. The only way to stay alive is to stay apart. But suddenly six feet doesn’t feel like safety. It feels like punishment.

What if they could steal back just a little bit of the space their broken lungs have stolen from them? Would five feet apart really be so dangerous if it stops their hearts from breaking too?

MY THOUGHTS

Tissues. You are going to need a whole heap of tissues. 

Five Feet Apart is the unforgettable story of Stella Grant and Will Newman. This is a love story like no other. Both the protagonists have Cystic Fibrosis, but while Stella is desperate for a lung transplant to extend her life, Will just wants to get out of the hospital and see the world. However, fate throws a horrid curve ball.The one thing Stella cannot afford to do is begin a relationship with anyone, let alone a fellow Cystic Fibrosis suffer. But try as she might, she cannot ignore Will, nor can she ignore her growing feelings for him.

This is a book that will make you laugh. It will make you cry. It will give you hope, and it will also make you despair.  I have never read a book like this. It is raw emotion. Powerful in its delivery and utterly unforgettable.

This is a novel that really deserves to be read. The authors of this book have written a truly remarkable novel. This is a book that will haunt me forever.

Amazon

My review of The Sign of the Blood (A Dangerous Emperor, Book #1) By Laurence O'Bryan @LPOBryan @maryanneyarde

The Sign of the Blood

(A Dangerous Emperor, Book #1)

By Laurence O'Bryan

The first Christian emperor faces ruthless enemies on his journey to power.

 

Cool mist settles over the legion advancing toward the Persian army. Constantine, the son of an emperor, the Roman officer leading the attack, tells his men to halt - something is wrong.

Before long, the battle rages. He frees a slave named Juliana. She is half Persian and half Roman. As they are pursued to Britannia over land and sea, he learns that she can see the future - his future.

 

It is 306A.D., long before Constantine the Great converted to Christianity and became the first Christian emperor.

 

To ensure he survives, he must eliminate his enemies. But who must die first? The priestess, Sybellina, who joined them in Rome and practices dark and seductive magic? Or the brutal legion commanders who surround his father? Or, as Juliana suspects, are those who want him dead even closer?

 

A gripping historical novel about Constantine’s bloody rise to power, the woman who helped him, and the real reason he supported a persecuted Christian minority, a decision which changed the world into the one we know. 

 

Praise for The Sign of the Blood

 

"Exciting and original." - SJA Turney, author of Praetorian.

 

“It is an enthralling story from start to finish…” The Coffee Pot Book Club

 

Publication date: 22^nd November 2018

Publisher: Ardua 

Print Length: 469 Pages

Genre: Historical Fiction

 

 

MY THOUGHTS

Mr O’Bryan has really outdone himself in this mesmerising story of a young Constantine the Great.

 

The historical detailing in this book is amazing. I really felt like I had taken a portal through time and found myself in the early 4th Century. Somehow, Mr O’ Bryan has captured not only the historical detail of this period but also its very essence. He has brought a long-dead world back to glorious life. And what with the super-fast narrative this book is one that I found near on impossible to drag myself away from.

 

There are several protagonists in this tale – Constantine being one of them. There was nothing not to like about Constantine. He is a courageous young man, but he also has a sharp intellect which makes him very appealing. But it is Julianna’s depiction that really closed the deal for me on this book. Juliana goes on this incredible journey from slave to free woman. But it is no easy journey. It is filled with danger, disaster and appalling acts of abuse. But Julianna remains strong despite all of the hardship that she suffers.

 

There are several antagonists in this story, and there are also some distressing scenes which made for some harrowing reading at times, but I thought this reflected the era.

 

I was pleased to see that Book 2 and 3 of this series are already out, so I will definitely be picking those books up as I want to find out how this story ends!

 

 

Amazon

 

 

Laurence O'Bryan

 

I spent twenty years studying Roman history and reading every book about Constantine the Great I could find. I also visited numerous sites where my Roman series is set, including in London, where I lived for ten years, Jerusalem, Rome, Trier, York, Nicomedia and Istanbul.

The first novel in the series, The Sign of The Blood, is about the rise to power of Constantine the Great, the women who helped him, and the others who wanted him dead.

The Road to The Bridge, the second novel in the series, is about the lead up to the battle of the Milvian Bridge in 312 A.D. and how Constantine the Great lured Maxentius, his rival emperor, out of Rome.

The third novel in the series, The Cursed City, is about the dedication of New Rone, later to be called Constantinople, and how Constantine fell out with his wife, Fausta, and his son Crispus, and what he had to do to survive.

To join the mailing list and receive news of these books use this link: http://bit.ly/TSOTBseries

There are five novels in the puzzle series, The Istanbul Puzzle, The Jerusalem Puzzle, The Manhattan Puzzle, The Nuremberg Puzzle and The Cairo Puzzle.

There is a story link from The Istanbul Puzzle to The Cursed City.

My books have:

* Achieved #1 ranking on Amazon,

* Been translated into 10 languages.

My roots go back to a small estate deep in the Mountains of Mourne near the Silent Valley, in County Down, Northern Ireland.

I went to school in Dublin, drank way too much, studied English and history, then business, then IT at Oxford University.

My research has taken me all over the world, from San Francisco to deep in the Muslim world. There are secrets everywhere. I enjoy writing about them. I hope you enjoy reading about them.

 

Connect with Laurence:

Twitter

 

Read an excerpt from THE LAST KING England: The First Viking Age (The Ninth Century Book 1) by M J Porter @coloursofunison @maryanneyarde

THE LAST KING

England: The First Viking Age (The Ninth Century Book 1)

By M J Porter

They sent three hundred warriors to kill one man. It wasn’t enough.

Mercia lies broken but not beaten, her alliance with Wessex in tatters.

Coelwulf, a fierce and bloody warrior, hears whispers that Mercia has been betrayed from his home in the west. He fears no man, especially not the Vikings sent to hunt him down.

To discover the truth of the rumours he hears, Coelwulf must travel to the heart of Mercia, and what he finds there will determine the fate of Mercia, as well as his own.

EXCERPT

AD874

 

I taste it on my lips, and over the salt of my sweat.

 

And I scowl. It’s not a flavour I wish to get used to. All the same, I know what it is without a second thought.

 

My seax glistens slickly in the dull light, the gleaming claret reminding me more of an exotic wine from the south than the lifeblood it truly is. The double headed-eagle impeccably depicted on the handle seems to wink at me, as the eyes fill with the ruby mixture.

 

Not that I focus on it for more than the time it takes me to blink.

 

This horde feels as though it’ll never stop, and I’m determined to end the lives of as many of them as possible. Such slaughter doesn’t bring me joy, but this is my skill. I wield it because I must.

 

My weapon, so sharp it cuts through byrnies as though they’re no more than spider webs, is busy today.

 

They come against my force, as small as it is, and they mean to annihilate us. But we will not go without making our sacrifices to their god of war.

 

My seax sweeps effortlessly along the abruptly exposed throat of my enemy, the realisation of what’s befallen him only reaching his eyes as he falls to the ground. I step over him, already sighting my next enemy.

 

This one swirls an axe in his left hand, as I reveal my bloodied teeth. His entire body recoils, almost a backward step. Before he can consider his move, I’ve sliced through his belly, the gut threatening to spill at my feet. I dismiss him and move onto the next man.

 

The ground beneath my feet squelches with each step, slick, more like a flooded river than the solid ground it should be.

 

It’s awash with the dead and wounded, the long shield wall that tried to defeat us long since disintegrated to small spots of desperate one to one fighting. This is my favourite part of any battle.

 

I turn, noting the angle of the sun, the brush of the breeze against my slick body, breathing deeply through my nose. This is not my first battle. Far from it.

 

I hear the cries of those boys who thought themselves men, and equally of those men who’ve found they are but boys when their lives are threatened.

 

I scorn them. They’re not worthy of my attention.

 

Quickly, I reach for my weapons belt, keen to know that all is where it should be. My hand brushes over the sharpened edges and deadly blades that make a home there. For now.

 

Satisfied, I pick my next target, a tight knot of men fighting not five steps away, and move forward.

 

I don’t hurry. Not this time. Neither, as I’ve seen others do, do I check the weight of my weapon, or test the strength of my arm as I consider my next move. Instinctively I know that all is well.

 

They’ll not fail me. They haven’t before.

 

The sun is high above my head, few clouds to be seen, other than high up, more wisps than anything substantial.

 

This battle has been long. It began with the streak of fire across the eastern sky, and I don’t foresee it ending other than when that same stripe sinks below the western horizon.

 

Those who met their death in the first wave of the assault will be cold and stiff by then, the heat of the sun of no help to them.

 

Those yet shivering with their mortal injuries will watch for the flashes of disappearing gold with fear. They’ll not see it rise again.

 

I simply mark it with detachment. There are more warriors to kill.

 

There are always more enemies to kill.

 

My seax arm sweeps to the right. I would sooner not kill a man who doesn’t know I’m there, but he should be paying more attention.

 

The wound along the back of his neck opens up with unsurprising ease, and I notice how my sworn-man takes advantage of the action to slice across the throat.

 

The enemy wobbles, his head bobbing. I fear it will topple to the floor before he does, and so I step around him.

 

Icel grins at me, his black beard dripping with the blood of his foe, as I grunt an acknowledgement, and nothing more.

 

Icel pivots to face the next enemy, as I stride beyond him. Coldly I count how many face us, how many are my warriors, almost pleased to see that the numbers, with my presence, are now equal.

 

That’s not how we started this battle.

 

And it’s not how I plan on ending it either.

 

I’ll ensure we roundly defeat our enemy, and when they’re dead, I’ll plan my next move.

 

I focus my thoughts, sight my target, and rush quickly toward them. He barely has time to raise his seax before I slice across his body. Blood spurts, as the links of his metal coat burst open under the blow from my weapon.

 

Another step, a slash of the seax from left to right, and blood is falling like rain.

 

Sometimes, I think the enemy make it too easy for me. I’m fast and relentless, and always have been. But, I’m cautious against my arrogance. My men tell me that my strength is prodigious. For one always used to being so strong, it’s impossible to know what it must feel like not to be.

 

My enemy staggers, perhaps not appreciating the extent of the injury. I take a cold moment of pity and allow him to fall onto the edge of my seax.

 

His final gasp of air is filled with fluid, as I reverse my hold, letting him slide to the floor.

 

I step gingerly over the rapidly growing pool of blood, grimacing at the stench of opened bowels and salty iron, at the result of my particular talents. Each kill is more than a number. But only just.

 

I feel as though I sweep through the enemy. They are warriors of all shapes and sizes, ages and skill levels. They all fall beneath my weapons, as though I fell defenceless saplings. This butchery gives me pleasure, and a burst of adrenaline only found in battle.

 

Only when I glance up, finding no enemy before me, do I stand upright, bring my legs together, menace with my seax, and glance at the field of slaughter.

 

I lead twenty men. The enemy must have numbered at least double that. Of those who remain, three are stood, angled to protect the back of each other, while three of my warriors threaten them. Another five wait to take the place of any who might fall. I think they’ll wait forever. My sworn warriors know how to make a kill, but some of them will insist on enjoying it first.

 

To the far right, I see where one lone figure attempts to escape into the muddy field ditch, alive for now, but not for much longer.

 

Other than those four opponents, all others are dead, or fled, or pretending to be dead.

 

I sigh heavily, abruptly aware of the ache in my shoulders, and the dryness of my mouth.

 

I could drink a barrel of cold water. But it’s not yet time to declare this battle won.

 

“How many?” I call, as though to no one, but Edmund answers, as quickly as always, his voice rich with the joy of battle.

 

“Two who will die, three with injuries that should recover, and Pybba, who lost his hand. The damn fool.”

 

I turn to meet the eyes of Edmund. He grins at me, as cocky as ever when the battle seems to be won. It’s not the same when a battle starts. In fact, when a battle commences, I almost expect him to run from the attack, or, if he stays, to soil himself, there and then.

 

His courage is slow to arrive and takes days to dissipate. But he fights with a tenacity I admire, and I’d never wish to go into battle without him.

 

“Leave one alive,” I turn and bellow, reminding my warriors that we must employ the tactics of the Raiders, even if I don’t want to. One must always live to tell of what befell their friends and comrades on the field of slaughter.

 

“Too late,” Edmund’s voice is soaring with laughter, as he too watches the remnants of the three Raiders losing their fight to live. “They always get bloody carried away,” he complains, but amusement thrums through the words rather than anger.

 

“Then bring me the one over there, heading toward the field ditch. We’ll stitch him up and send him on his way.” Once the killing begins, it’s almost impossible to stop until everyone on the battlefield lies unmoving.

Amazon UK • Amazon US

M J Porter

I'm an author of fantasy (viking age/dragon themed) and historical fiction (Early English, Vikings and the British Isles as a whole before the Norman Conquest), born in the old Mercian kingdom at some point since AD1066. I write A LOT. You've been warned!

Connect with M J Porter: Website • Blog • Twitter

 

My review of The Queen’s Devil (William Constable Spy Thriller, Book #3) by Paul Walker @PWalkerauthor @maryanneyarde

The Queen’s Devil

(William Constable Spy Thriller, Book #3)

By Paul Walker

 

1583.

 

William Constable, recently married astrologer and mathematician, has settled into routine work as a physician when he is requested to attend two prisoners in the Tower of London. Both are accused of separate acts treason, but their backgrounds suggest there may be a connection.

 

Sir Francis Walsingham and Lord Burghley urge William to discover further intelligence from the prisoners while tending their injuries from torture.

 

The agent's investigations lead him to the French Embassy, which lies at the heart of a conspiracy which threatens the nation.

 

Through his enquiries, an unsuspecting William becomes entangled in a perilous web of politicking and religious fervour.

 

The threat comes from one the most powerful men in the English court – one referred to as the Queen’s Devil.

 

William faces a race against time to unpick these ties, climaxing in a daring raid on the Embassy.

 

 

Praise for Paul Walker:

 

“Walker skilfully creates a treacherous world of half-truths, plots and duplicity... simmering with impending danger.” Michael Ward, author of Rags of Time.

 

"A gripping and evocative page-turner that vibrantly brings Elizabeth's London to life." Steven Veerapen, author of A Dangerous Trade.

 

"Full of convincing characters both historical and imagined." Peter Tonkin

 

MY THOUGHTS

 

If you love a sit-on-the-edge-of-your-seat kind of experience when you read a book, then you are going to adore The Queen’s Devil. I was not too sure what I expected when I picked up this book, as I have not read the other two books in the series, but I was not expecting what I got. What I got was a book that I spent all day reading because I could not put it down.

 

William Constable, a physician who once worked for Sir Francis Walsingham, is an unlikely hero because he is just so ordinary. He is a doctor who cares for his charges whether they be rich or poor. He is, I guess, extremely likeable. When William is drawn into a world of conspiracy and thwarted plots, I saw a different side to him. He is conflicted, but he knows that he has been given a job to do and if he fails – failure is not an option when Walsingham is breathing down your neck! William is a very pragmatic man, but sometimes he misses the tiniest of detail, and the threat that seems unworthy of his attention becomes the one that could lead to his downfall. There is a lot of foreshadowing in this book, which I think makes it so unputdownable. The reader knows something terrible is going to happen – we just don’t know when! Talk about building tension in the reader.

 

Although William Constable is not a historical character, he is surrounded by men and women who were alive during this era. I thought the blending of fact with fiction was remarkably well done. I really enjoyed seeing these historical characters through the eyes of William, and I think the author did a fabulous job of demonstrating through these characters the danger that was always rumbled around the Tudor throne.

 

The antagonist of this story is a man who would be king, but he never was. The Queen declared herself married to England, but he was still one of the most powerful and influential men, and in this story, he is an incredibly dangerous one. I always felt that there was something wildly romantic about Robert Dudley, but I also knew that there were a great deal of whispers in court about him and especially with regards to how his wife died. In this novel, the author gives us a glimpse of the schemer, of the ruthless man that he could be and I guess it was a good thing for England that he never became king.

 

The historical backdrop of this book has been meticulously researched, while I was reading I really did feel like I had been transported back in time to Elizabethan England.

 

If you love historical thrillers set in the Tudor era, then this is the book for you.

 

Amazon

 

Paul Walker

 

Paul is married and lives in a village 30 miles north of London. Having worked in universities and run his own business, he is now a full-time writer of fiction and part-time director of an education trust. His writing in a garden shed is regularly disrupted by children and a growing number of grandchildren and dogs.

 

Paul writes historical fiction. He inherited his love of British history and historical fiction from his mother, who was an avid member of Richard III Society. The William Constable series of historical thrillers is based around real characters and events in the late sixteenth century. The first two books in the series - State of Treason and A Necessary Killing - were published in 2019. The third book, titled The Queen's Devil, was published in the summer of 2020.

 

Twitter • Facebook • Amazon Author Page.

 

Publication date: 27 July 2020

Genre: Historical Fiction / Historical Thriller

Publisher: Sharpe’s Books

Print Length: 274 pages