Mirella Sichirollo Patzer's Blog, page 19

Hoyden of the Week

Does the Vespa make me look fat?

Spotlight on Daring Passage by Maggie Plummer - A Book Blast and First Chapter!

The plight of the Irish forced into slavery in the 17th century! A mesmerizing tale!

Here's the first chapter of Maggie Plummer's much anticipated sequel to THE SPIRITED AWAY Saga! 

This book introduced me to the horrors of Irish slavery in the Caribbean. I loved the first book and the sequel promises to be equally as wonderful.   
DARING PASSAGE: BOOK TWO OF THE SPIRITED AWAY SAGA is the much-awaited sequel to Maggie Plummer's award-winning first novel, SPIRITED AWAY - A NOVEL OF THE STOLEN IRISH.
The first book paints an intimate, compelling portrait of 1650s Irish slavery in the Caribbean.
DARING PASSAGE tells the rest of Irish slave Freddy O'Brennan's tale. 
It's still 1656, and Freddy is on the run. Determined to protect her young children and keep her family together, she is tested more than ever as she navigates a choking gauntlet of greed, corruption, duplicity, and bloody violence. Romantic sparks fly, then smolder, and ultimately threaten to explode.
DARING PASSAGE is a 70,000-word historical romance novel that captures a rare glimpse of life in the New World colonies of the 17th century.




Author BIO 
Maggie Plummer is a writer who lives in western Montana. She has daydreamed about writing and publishing novels since she was 16 years old.

Along the winding trail, Maggie has wandered into far-flung corners of the United States, working seasonal and odd jobs. She has worked as a journalist, book publicist, book editor, census enumerator, school bus driver, field interviewer, waitress, post office clerk, fish processor, library clerk, retail salesperson, Good Humor ice cream girl, fishing boat first mate, race horse hot walker, apple picker, and bus girl.
Maggie is the author of SPIRITED AWAY – A NOVEL OF THE STOLEN IRISH (2012, CreateSpace Independent Publishing) and PASSING IT ON: VOICES FROM THE FLATHEAD INDIAN RESERVATION (2008, Salish Kootenai College Press, Pablo, Montana). DARING PASSAGE: BOOK TWO OF THE SPIRITED AWAY SAGA is her second published novel. She is already working on her next novel.

Chapter One
Freddy O’Brennan gulped, her wide eyes following the Union flag of England as Owyn –the Alizé’s youngest mate – hoisted it to the top of the mast. She clenched her jaw and leaned against the rail to get a better look, smoothing back wayward curls of her long black hair. "It is the only way," Colin murmured, taking her hand and raising it to his lips. “Aye, Captain,” she whispered, smiling into his deep-set blue eyes. Was it only her imagination, or did he get more handsome by the day? His dark Irish features were rawboned now, more rugged than when she'd met him on the sugar plantation in Barbados. The way Colin’s thick black hair was pulled straight back from his bronzed face, into a ribbon at the nape of his neck, highlighted that angular brow and those sharp cheekbones. Freddy felt herself blushing. She shaded her big green eyes, lifted her face, and again stared at the hated red and blue flag. Her smile vanished as she watched it waving in the steady trade wind.  “Now to plan,” Colin was saying. "We’re well away from Barbados, no land in sight and the sea to ourselves."  This, their first day underway, was as fair as a person could wish for. The turquoise sea was flat and calm, its surface rippling in a light breeze. The sloop's sails billowed bright white against a cloudless sapphire sky. Young Owyn, high in the rigging, gripped the lines with his brown bare feet as he made his way back down to the main deck. Freddy sighed, a wave of exhaustion rippling over her. She’d been too excited to sleep last night. Colin called to the one they called Sir Johnny Long Legs. As Freddy watched him approach, she tried to recall ever meeting anyone with legs that long. As the ship's first officer, it was his deep voice they heard barking commands to the crew. Colin and Johnny had been mates under Captain LaCoste, and were now good friends. Although Colin had managed to purchase the Alizé, he readily admitted that Johnny had far more seafaring experience. Originally from the Welsh fishing village of Tenby, the tall buccaneer had grown up on sailing vessels. "Sir?" Johnny said."All hands on deck, but for the helmsman and yerself," Colin instructed. "Keep a sharp eye, will ye? After, I will tell ye what's what. Oh, and have Owyn fetch Birdie and the children.""Aye, sir." Johnny nodded and was off. During years of working together in the plantation kitchen, Birdie Moss had become Freddy’s closest friend. More like a big sister, really, since Birdie was a few years older. A native from the Virginia Colony, Birdie had already been a kitchen slave on the estate when Freddy arrived there. The ship's bell sounded six strokes. "Eleven o'clock," Colin answered before Freddy could ask. "All hands on deck!" Johnny bellowed. "Step lively, ye tars!"  Freddy settled herself on a barrel and hugged baby Kofi in the muslin sling tied snugly to her chest. He stirred and gurgled, but didn't wake.               Xavier, the gruff ship’s cook, shuffled up and sat across from her.   "Hello again." She and Birdie had discovered Xavier and the ship's galley this morning. With his hoarse voice, stringy brown hair, straggly beard, eye patch, and three missing fingers, he was intimidating – except to Birdie’s son Raz, who immediately adored him.  The cook nodded to her and reached out his arms as Raz ran up and climbed into the man’s lap.   Birdie joined Freddy on the deck. "Mama!" Laurie chirped, sitting at Freddy’s feet and wrapping his little arms around her legs. "Boat!"  "That's right, son." She stroked his silky black curls, identical to her own. Almost two years old, he was sprouting these days.   Xavier bounced Raz on his knee. Baby Efia, riding on Birdie's hip, looked around. Her brown eyes were huge.  "Listen well, it could save our lives," Colin sternly told the seven crewmen gathering around. "ALL our lives!"   The men leaned against the rail, some propping their bare feet on wooden crates. Most of them wore loose muslin shirts that ruffled in the breeze, but several were bare-chested. They all wore light-colored breeches and a variety of colorful hats and scarves.    Bracing his broken arm in its sling tight against his body, Colin stood in a wide stance, studying each person. "As ye know, this is a different sort of voyage. I need not remind ye of what the English do to runaway slaves and those who dare help them. Our very lives depend on being prepared, buttoning our lips, and playing our roles.  "Here is our ruse: we are an English merchant sloop bound for the Virginia Colony to pick up furs at the trading post there. I am from Bristol but our family is from Wales. I intend to purchase a large merchant ship after this voyage. Freddy, can ye forge a letter from a feigned English merchant?”  “Yes, and gladly!”  "Good! We must prepare that soon." He turned to the others. “The colonial government will demand tax – probably fifty pounds of gun powder and shot. I will agree cordially with whatever they require. We will need a hired guide, no doubt an Englishman, to navigate the entrance to the James River. They’ll require us to tie up at Jamestowne for customs formalities, and then we will need another guide to navigate up the river—”   "Mama!" Laurie blurted. "Good boat?"  Everyone chuckled.  "Yes, son," she told him, holding her finger against her lips. "Hush now."    “Freddy, ye are my widowed cousin. After loading the furs, I plan to take ye to England, where ye will travel to yer family home in Cardiff. Birdie is yer servant, a West Indies native. She has completed her indenture and chosen to stay with ye. We are sailing from St. Kitts, where I reunited with ye after yer husband died of yellow fever. The two younger children are ill with a common ague. We must insist that they stay in their quarters."  Colin cleared his throat. "No one must see the babes. NO ONE! I am told that the Virginia English will be interested only in material goods we may have on board. I don’t believe they will demand to see the children. But…” He rubbed his forehead. “Need we change yer names?”  “I was thinking the same," Freddy chimed in. "Do ye suppose the customs house will require a list of passengers and crew?”  “Very likely.”  “We should change our names so that no record exists, of our entering the colony.” She absently patted Kofi’s back. “Should we unintentionally use our real names in front of the English, we will simply say that it was a nickname.”  “Yes! Another thing – we must take care that the English not discover that Birdie is a Virginia native. They control the movements of the natives in the colony.”  Birdie nodded and clasped her hands together so tight her knuckles turned white.   Freddy turned to her friend. “Birdie, ye could be Buhi, a Carib name I heard once."  "Buhi," Birdie repeated softly, nodding. "Buhi."  "I could be Frances…”  “Laurie could be Llyr,” Colin added, “Welsh god of the sea.”  The youngster’s face lit up. "Llyr!" he hollered.   Colin grinned at him.   “Raz becomes Rafalo?” Freddy suggested.    “Rafalo,” Birdie practiced. “Rafalo.”   Raz jumped off Xavier's lap and plopped down on the deck next to Laurie.   “Efia can be Eres," Colin continued, "Welsh for beautiful.”   “And Kofi will be Kevin." Freddy smiled.  “We must use these names, so that they become natural. Now, surnames. Mine will be Matthews. Colin William Matthews.”“I am Frances Browning,” Freddy pronounced.  Once they figured out the surnames, Colin asked the women to take the wee ones inside and close up their cabin port. “I must warn the men in language they understand, what the slip of a loose tongue will earn them,” he said. “As well, we must clean our slops, tidy our hair, and dump overboard all vestiges of the buccaneer life.” He removed his silver earring and slipped it into a vest pocket.   Freddy was about to enter the passageway when she stopped and turned. “Colin?”  He strode over.   "What about this?" Freddy pointed to the "RW" branding scar on her arm. "Birdie has one, too."  Colin shook his head. He took her hand, slowly tracing the brand with his finger. "Would that I could take it away, and all it represents, my Freddy. But I cannot. Ye'll have to wear long sleeves."  "We have no other clothing."  "Ye can make some with the black cloth we have on board. Xavier can find it for ye."  "A long-sleeved black dress would suit your proper Welsh widow cousin." And, she added to herself, it would help her look older than her sixteen years.   He winked at her and turned to go.  "Colin?"  He turned back.  “Is it a good plan?” Freddy asked in a tight voice. “Will it work?”  “I believe we will be ready for those blasted English.” Again he took her hand and raised it to his lips. Could he hear her heart hammering?                                                                             *  Freddy whimpered, tossing and turning on the bunk. In her sleep, Master's drunken laughter was steamy on her neck as his bony hips pressed her down.   "No, no…" she whispered, her hands flailing as sharp knees pried her legs apart. She kicked, panting. "No!" Freddy beat the air with her arms. Something jiggled her shoulder as her left hand hit the bulkhead. She gasped.   Birdie perched on the edge of the bunk, shaking Freddy’s shoulders. "Shhh…" In the gray morning light, the native woman's sloping eyes were wide with worry. "Sshhhh."  Freddy bolted up into her friend’s embrace, a sob escaping her lips. "Master…" she managed to say.   Birdie shook her head. "No Master," she murmured into Freddy's ear. "No more."  Above, Johnny Long Legs shouted orders to the men. The sloop rocked forward as the smell of tar hit her nose, and Freddy remembered where she was. The children slept peacefully in the bunk across the small cabin. "Nightmare," she mumbled, trembling. Her sleeping gown was soaked with sweat. Birdie shook her head. "No more sleep…"  Freddy got up and changed into her white slave shift. At least it was dry. She hung the soaked sleeping gown from a peg and put on her forest-green vest, this time tying the laces loosely. She pulled the top edge of her slave gown higher to better cover her chest. A chill radiated through her as she remembered Whittingham ordering her to exhibit her cleavage for his pleasure. His fingers had slithered like snakes. Again she heard Master's devilish laughter from the dream.   Shaking herself, she went to the port, opened it, and inhaled deeply. As long as the seas were calm, they could enjoy the open window. The sun was just rising.  Birdie sat on the bunk and patted the place next to her.   Freddy relaxed as Birdie’s fingers gently ran along her scalp and braided her unruly hair into a loose, comfortable plait. She could not believe they were free. Now they could choose to wear their hair and clothing how they preferred, without the threat of a painful paddling if their looks did not please Master. A fresh sea breeze floated in through the open port. Freddy rubbed her temples and flinched when a loud thud sounded from the quarterdeck above. She stared out at the flat turquoise water. It appeared that no one was in pursuit, thanks be to God and Saint Patrick.  Birdie finished, smoothing the braid.   “Thank ye,” Freddy whispered. “Now yours.”  As she combed out Birdie’s thick black hair with her fingers, she noticed the frayed edges of her friend’s gown.   “We will sew dresses,” she said softly. How wonderful it would be to throw away this slave garb!   “No more slave dress,” Birdie murmured, touching her sleeve absently. “Is dream?”     “It only feels like a dream,” Freddy replied.   Birdie caught her breath. “No more grind, grind, grind for many mouth!”                 “No more laundering Mrs. Pratt’s pettislip and chemise!” Freddy hissed. Birdie turned, held her nose, and made a horrified face. They collapsed together in the bunk, giggling into their hands.    Birdie sat up, suddenly grave. “No more paddle, whip…”      “I would have died in that place without ye,” Freddy whispered, touching her friend’s hair affectionately. “I thank God for ye, and for Colin coming to rescue us.”   “Okee watches,” Birdie murmured.

Hoyden of the Week

Who knew one needs to practice before putting on a thong? Wonder what the front looks like...

Elena de Cespedes - A Hemaphrodite persecuted for lesbianism

One woman's fight for her sexual identity and freedom!  

In 16th century Spain, Elena de Cespedes was the child of a Moor slave. She was sixteen when she got married, but the marriage did not last very long and her spouse soon abandoned her, leaving her pregnant and alone. Somehow, she fended for herself long enough to give birth to a son. To support herself and her son, she left him in the care of her mother, and went to Granada to seek work to support them all. As a woman, however, Elena would find it very difficult to survive, and that worried her. But Elena had an explosive secret! Beneath her skirts, in a addition to her female organs, she was hiding a penis. So she decided to become a man. 
Chaning her name to Eleno, she dressed as a man, and set off for Granada where she aquired some modest lodgings. The landlord's wife took an interest in Eleno, and before long, things got heated and they began an affair. As luck would have it however, their affair was discovered and in the heat of a scandal surrounding his gender, Elena was forced to flee. 
Proud of her manly prowess and strength, she joined the army and fought successfully for several years. She even got wounded in battle. Tired of war, still dressed as a man, she travelled to Madrid, hoping to learn how to be a tailor. She found lodgings in the home of a surgeon. Instead of cutting and sewing cloth, the surgeon took her under his wing and she was taught to trim hair, amputate limbs, and let blood. She earned great respect as a healer.  
Elena fell deeply in love with a young woman and proposed marriage to her. But the affair with his landlord's wife continued to haunt him and Elena was forced to succumb to a gender examination, and then another. In both, she passed the test and was confirmed a man. Elena and his bride were married by a Catholic priest. 
The rumors about her gender would not die, and Elena was forced to endure yet another gender examination. This time, the results were vastly different and it was determined she was indeed a woman. Now she became truly an object of curiosity and earned great celebrity not only because she was a hemaphrodite, but also because she was a miraculous healer. Elena and wife were charged with lesbianism. Elena was further charged with fraud and sent to face the dreadful Spanish Inquisitors. Her marriage was immediately annulled and Elena was brutally whipped with 200 lashes. She was convicted of devilry and was sentenced to death by burning, but her sentence was commutted to 10 years in a hospital working as a nurse.     

Royal Kisses of Death

With great power can come great corruption and evil. Here are two royal women who gave the kiss of death to their lovers - Margaret of Valois and Catherine the Great. Their tales will make you shiver with abhorrence.

New France - guilt, shame, and forgiveness

In the dangerous wilds of New France, a young couple struggles against wicked intentions, murder, obsessive love, undisclosed secrets, unstoppable destinies, and a world steeped in corruption!


                  

Hoyden of the Week - Beehive

Hold on tight and don't let go or I'll tip over.

Superstitions, wicked intentions, and horrible curses!

A dreadful curse and the casting of the evil eye that will shatter lives, and the dark family secret one woman will risk everything to keep buried. 
An absorbing novel about wicked intentions, medieval superstitions, a curse uttered in envy, undisclosed secrets, unstoppable destinies, and two generations of women and the extraordinary event that will vindicate or destroy them.

Medieval spousal abuse and the woman who freed herself!

In 10th century Naples, a young woman is on the verge of taking her vows to become a nun. 
She must run into the dark night to flee a ruthless massacre. 
One man becomes her rescuer. 
Another, becomes a deadly enemy and captor. 
She enters into a desperate life and death search to reunite with her one true love.

Princess of Legends - The enduring romantic life of Pocahontas

The story of the 11 year old native girl who saved the life a famous soldier of fortune



About the Book
A new historical novel from the author of The Sekhmet Bed. 
The TidewaterTo the nation of Powhatan, it is Tsenacomoco, rightful home of the Real People. To England, it is Virginia Territory, fertile with promise, rich with silver and gold. Against the backdrop of this wild land, the fates of three unforgettable people collide: John SmithAn outcast among his own, despised for his low birth and his unchecked tongue, his is the only mind capable of solving the deadly puzzle of the wilderness. Smith knows the only hope for Jamestown Colony lies with the Powhatan people. He knows, too, that they would rather see the English starve than yield their homeland to invaders. 
OpechancanoughDisgraced and embittered, he sees in the English a chance to restore his reputation. He knows the invaders can be used to expand his brother’s empire and improve the lives of the Real People. He knows, too, that such a tool can turn in the hand, and become a weapon pointed at the heart. 
PocahontasThough not of royal blood, she dreams of becoming a female chief. When the English build their fort on her father’s land, she finds an opportunity to rise above her lowly station. But she is young, and doesn’t understand the implications of the game she plays. When at last she realizes the English are a force beyond her control, she must choose between power and servitude – between self and sacrifice – for the sake of her people and her land. 

Control of the Tidewater can only rest in one nation’s hands. It is a conflict of desire and hatred, of friendship and fear, of stark ambition and desperate survival. 
ReviewbyMirella Patzer
For her second novel, author Libbie Hawker recreates the historical details of the life of Pocahontas. Tidewater is a sweeping story, incredibly detailed, wonderfully alive, and a story that at times is joyous, but often dark and heart-wrenching. Just like the lives were of the new settlers and the native people that struggled to accept them. What impresses me most about this novel is the author's talent for drilling deep into the head of the characters, bringing to life their feelings, secrets, and most private thoughts. Truly, this is a beautiful book about a legendary woman whose legend endures to this very day. A raw but honest depiction of this fascinating woman.