Pam Lecky's Blog, page 25
January 20, 2019
A Conversation with Author John Anthony Miller
This evening in the Library we have John Anthony Miller, who has dropped in to say hello and to share some insights into his life as an author. You are very welcome, John. Please tell us a little about yourself.
Hello, Pam – and thanks for having me.
[image error]I live in the U.S., in southern New Jersey, and my writing is motivated by a life-long love of travel and history. My fifth book, Honour the Dead, a historical murder mystery set in Italy in the 1920’s, has just been published.
Which genre do you write in and what draws you to it?
I like to cross genres, using thrillers, historical fiction, and mysteries, primarily. I think having a multi-genre plot is much more interesting, with unlimited possibilities for subplots and secondary characters that are often as exciting as the protagonist.
Are you an avid reader? Do you prefer books in your own genre or are you happy to explore others?
I am an avid reader – although I read more non-fiction than fiction, primarily to research the books I’m writing. When I do read fiction, I tend to stay in the three genres I typically write in, although if I find an interesting author, or if someone is recommended to me, I may stray a bit.
Are you a self-published/traditional or hybrid author?
I’m traditionally published, represented by Parkeast Literary in the U.S.
Who has been the biggest influence on your writing?
Three writers have had a large influence on me. James A. Michener taught me that the location of a novel is also a character, especially if richly described. Ken Follett taught me how to move a story along, having the action twist or turn every five or six pages, and Ernest Hemingway, especially his early writings, taught me technique – that in many cases, less is really more.
Has your country of origin/culture influenced your writing?
Although I’m from the U.S., I’m fascinated by French and British history, which is reflected in my main characters.
What part of the writing process do you find most difficult? How do you overcome it?
The most difficult part of the process for me is the initial draft. I’m what you might describe as a re-writer, versus a writer, and usually go through at least five or six revisions before sending a manuscript to my agent.
My first draft is such a challenge because I have no discipline whatsoever, and this first effort is really a race to get the plot on paper. I leave myself notes for the next revision – like describe or dialogue or research – because I don’t want to be slowed down while capturing my initial thoughts. (I’ve always admired writers who are very disciplined and start with an outline that they never stray from).
My first draft is 125–150 pages for a novel that will be 350-400 pages when completed, and takes 2 – 4 weeks. I then continually revise it, using index cards to jot down notes about characters or places or references for research.
I get through these early stages by simply plodding ahead, regardless of how bad I might think the writing is. I have confidence in my ability as a re-writer so if I churn out garbage initially, I hope I can eventually turn it into gold.
What was the best piece of writing advice you received when starting out?
I was told by a writing instructor to work every day – even if it’s only thinking about what you may write the next day – and even if you can only manage 15 or 20 minutes.
Do you have a favourite time of day to write?
I’m an early riser, usually up by 5 a.m. (prompted by my cat, Bobcat). Mornings are my most productive time.
If you weren’t an author, what would you be up to?
If I wasn’t an author, I would be a financial analyst or investment manager. I am fascinated by the global stock markets and I like to research the various companies and industries around the world.
If a movie was made of one of your books, who would you like to play the lead roles?
Maybe Caroline Katz or Joanne Froggatt for the female and Cillian Murphy for the male.
If you could live the life of an historical figure for one day, who would you choose and what would you get up to?
I’ve always admired Winston Churchill, especially for his ability to rally the world during the darkest days of WWII. I would like to be him for a day just to see how he stayed so optimistic when the entire world was collapsing.
If you could travel back in time, what era would you go to? What draws you to this particular time?
I would definitely choose late-Victorian through the early part of the twentieth century. I’m drawn to the British Empire, upon which the sun never set, the twilight of Victorian England, the dawn of a new century, the utter destruction of WWI, and the roaring ‘20’s.
You have been chosen as a member of the crew on the first one-way flight to Mars – you are allowed to bring 5 books with you. What would they be?
Centennial – James A. Michener; A Farewell to Arms – Ernest Hemingway; Rebecca – Daphne Du Maurier; The Orient Express – Agatha Christie; Eye of the Needle – Ken Follett
Please tell us about your latest published work.
[image error]My fifth novel, Honour the Dead, has just been issued. It’s a historical murder mystery about six English survivors of WWI who converge on Lake Como, Italy in 1921, four men and two women = one corpse and one killer.
Penelope Jones, a wealthy socialite, is admitted to Lakeside Sanitarium, convinced someone is trying to kill her. Her husband, Alexander Cavendish, a WWI hero, is having an affair with her closest friend and owes gambling debts to Billy Flynn, a London gangster. Her father, Wellington Jones, is fighting the collapse of his business empire, and knows about Cavendish’s affair and gambling debts. Wellington needs money desperately and knows Penelope will inherit Cavendish’s estate, should anything happen to him. Dr. Joseph Barnett, Penelope’s doctor, struggles to control images of a war he can’t forget. He despises Cavendish, having served with him in the war. Barnett doesn’t see a war hero, but a despicable murderer who forced young men to die. Rose Barnett, the doctor’s wife, is a famous poet with a sordid secret. Rose was a nurse in France during the war, where she committed five mercy killings on horrifically wounded soldiers. Cavendish, the only witness, is blackmailing her. Who is the corpse and who is the killer?
LINKS TO PURCHASE: UK: Amazon UK US: Amazon US
AUTHOR LINKS:
January 7, 2019
Historical Fiction Cover Winner January 2019 with @EHBernardAuthor @authorrochelle @nicolasladeuk
What draws you to a historical fiction book cover?
Welcome to a new year of ‘Pam’s Picks’. I hope you find some new books and authors for your ‘must read’ list. If a cover interests you, just click on the link to learn more about the book.
My January winner is:
Temptation Rag by Elizabeth Hutchison Bernard
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I love this cover not only because of the strong ragtime vibe but because it is so clever; you immediately know the genre and the setting. The images are nicely blended and not too busy making it an eye catching cover. Congrats Elizabeth!
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Seventeen-year-old May Convery, unhappy with her privileged life in turn-of-the-century New York City, dreams of becoming a poet. When she meets the talented young Mike Bernard, an aspiring concert pianist, she immediately falls in love. But after their secret liaison is discovered, neither is prepared for the far-reaching consequences that will haunt them for decades. As Mike abandons serious music to ruthlessly defend his hard-won title, Ragtime King of the World, May struggles to find her voice as an artist and a woman. It is not until years after their youthful romance, when they cross paths again, that they must finally confront the truth about themselves and each other. But is it too late? The world of ragtime is the backdrop for a remarkable story about the price of freedom, the longing for immortality, and the human need to find forgiveness. From vaudeville’s greatest stars to the geniuses of early African American musical theater, an unforgettable cast of real-life characters populates this richly fictionalized historical saga.
To find out more, please click here
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As always, it was difficult to choose. Here are some other wonderful covers to tempt you!
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Richard II found himself under siege not once, but twice in his minority. Crowned king at age ten, he was only fourteen when the Peasants’ Revolt terrorized London. But he proved himself every bit the Plantagenet successor, facing Wat Tyler and the rebels when all seemed lost. Alas, his triumph was short-lived, and for the next ten years he struggled to assert himself against his uncles and increasingly hostile nobles. Just like in the days of his great-grandfather Edward II, vengeful magnates strove to separate him from his friends and advisors, and even threatened to depose him if he refused to do their bidding. The Lords Appellant, as they came to be known, purged the royal household with the help of the Merciless Parliament. They murdered his closest allies, leaving the King alone and defenseless. He would never forget his humiliation at the hands of his subjects. Richard’s inability to protect his adherents would haunt him for the rest of his life, and he vowed that next time, retribution would be his.
To find out more, please click here
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A story of Family, Rationing and Inconvenient Corpses.
Life in 1918 has brought loss and grief and hardship to the three Fyttleton sisters.
Helped only by their grandmother (a failed society belle and expert poacher) and hindered by a difficult suffragette mother, as well as an unruly chicken-stealing dog and a house full of paying guests, they now have to deal with the worrying news that their late – and unlamented – father may not be dead after all.
And on top of that, there’s a body in the ha-ha.
To find out more, please click here
And the not so small print: the judge’s decision is final (that would be me!) and is highly subjective.
Please note this is a cover competition only and does not constitute a review of any of the books featured. It’s up to you to explore. Happy Reading!
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Don’t forget, if you read a book and love it, post a review and make an author happy.
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December 2, 2018
The Victorian Christmas
Who doesn’t love Christmas traditions? And yet the way we celebrate the season now is relatively new. Before Queen Victoria’s time, Christmas was barely celebrated at all and gift giving was usually done at the New Year.
Contrary to popular belief, Mr Charles Dickens did not invent Christmas. However, he took the idea and ran with it, creating one of the most iconic ghost stories of our time, A Christmas Carol. Most of us associate the book, and the marvellous film versions of it, with a typical Victorian Christmas, but the commercialisation of the season came about due to two main influences; Queen Victoria marrying her German first cousin, Prince Albert; and the mass production of cheap goods due to the Industrial Revolution.
So, what did the Victorians do for our Christmas traditions?
[image error]Illustration Credit: ©iStock.com/clu
The Christmas Tree
Prince Albert brought many of the German Christmas traditions with him to England, including the Christmas tree. The first one was erected in Windsor Castle in 1841 and when the Illustrated London News published a drawing of the royal family celebrating around a decorated Christmas tree in 1848, the public went crazy for the idea. It wasn’t long before every home had a tree decked with homemade decorations and small gifts. The ‘traditional’ tree as we know it, free-standing on the floor, evolved with the German tradition of table-top Christmas trees.
Christmas Gifts & Santa Claus
Gradually as the season gained popularity, the exchange of gifts moved from the New Year to Christmas. Initially these were small items such as fruit, nuts, sweets and small handmade gifts which were hung on the Christmas tree. However, as gift giving became more popular, and the gifts became bigger, they moved under the tree.
As technology advanced, mass production became the norm in all industries and toy manufacture was no different. Cheap dolls, bears and clock-work toys were suddenly affordable for middle-class families with their new-found disposable income. However, in poorer households, a child would usually get an apple or an orange and maybe a few nuts.
Normally associated with the giving of gifts, is Father Christmas or Santa Claus. An old English midwinter festival featured Father Christmas who was normally dressed in green. He first appeared in the mid 17th century but fell foul of the Puritan controlled English government who legislated against Christmas, considering it papist! However, the origins of Santa Claus or St Nicholas were Dutch (Sinter Klaas in Holland). The American myth of Santa arrived in the 1850s with Father Christmas taking on Santa’s attributes. By the 1880s, the nocturnal visitor was referred to as both Santa Claus and Father Christmas.
The Christmas Cracker
Another item which was mass produced was the Christmas cracker. A sweetshop owner by the name of Tom Smith had the idea in the 1840s, having been inspired by the French tradition of wrapping sweets in twists of paper. By the 1860s, he had perfected the explosive bang and the Christmas cracker was soon a very popular item in Victorian homes.
The Christmas Card
[image error]Illustration credit: ©iStock.com/Whitemay
Sir Henry Cole, the first director of the Victoria & Albert Museum (V&A), commissioned the artist J.C. Horsley to design a festive scene for his seasonal greeting cards in 1843. He had 1,000 printed and the left-over cards were sold to the public. Luckily, Rowland Hill had introduced the “Penny Post” in Britain in 1840, however, the price of one shilling for the cards meant they were not really accessible to most ordinary people. As a result, children were encouraged to make their own Christmas cards at home.
But industrialisation of colour printing technology quickly became more advanced and the price of card production dropped significantly. The popularity of sending cards was helped when a halfpenny postage rate was introduced in 1870 as a result of the efficiencies brought about by the vast network of railways. By the 1880s, the sending of cards had become hugely popular, with 11.5 million cards produced in 1880 alone.
Christmas Dinner
The origins of the meal date back to the Middle Ages but it was the Victorians who developed it to what it is today. The traditional meat at Christmas had been boar (in Medieval times) then goose and beef, but as the well-to-do Victorians began to consume turkey instead, the lower classes followed suit. Plum pudding and mince pies also gained huge popularity at this time. The Victorian love of lengthy meals with many courses still has echoes in our Christmas dinners today, when we generally eat and drink far too much.
[image error]Illustration credit: ©iStock.com/Cannasue
Christmas Entertainment
Christmas was seen by the Victorians as a time for family and friends and they entertained lavishly. After dinner, they would sit around the piano and sing or play parlour games. Rail travel meant that loved ones from far and wide could come home to enjoy Christmas with the family.
Carols and caroling were extremely popular although not new by any means, having originated from the ‘waits’, an old English tradition of going from house to house and singing in exchange for food. The Victorians, revived the popularity of carols, with the first collection published in 1833. Most of the carols we sing today are ‘new’ versions of old carols which the Victorians adapted to suit their taste.
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It was the Victorian love of homecoming and the joy of family at Yuletide which partly inspired my novelette, Christmas at Malton Manor.
[image error]Christmas 1884: Home is where the heart is …
Kate Hamilton is companion to the dullest and meanest woman in England, but she is looking forward to going home for Christmas and her sister Mary’s wedding. When her employer refuses to release her, Colonel Robert Woodgate comes to the rescue.
Robert now owns Malton Manor, Kate’s old home in the village of Malton. Recently returned from the Boer War and recovering from his injuries, Robert has been reclusive and morose. Clashing several times over his plans and sweeping changes in the village, their relationship has always been tempestuous.
But when Kate returns to Malton, she discovers her sister’s wedding is to take place at Malton Manor and everyone is convinced the Colonel has an ulterior motive. Can Kate resist the lure of her old home and the memories it holds? And does she have the courage to break down Robert’s defences to find happiness at last?
Buy Link: http://MyBook.to/Malton
I’d like to take the opportunity to wish you all a Very Happy Christmas and a Peaceful New Year
Historical Fiction Cover Winner December 2018 with @Feud_writer @ros_rendle @jloakley
What draws you to a historical fiction book cover?
During 2018, I have had the pleasure of hosting this cover competition and choosing my ‘Pam’s Pick’. I hope you have found some new books and authors who are now on your ‘must read’ list. In this last instalment, I feature the last three entrants to the 2018 competition. Hopefully, you will be intrigued enough to look beyond the covers I feature and find your next favourite author. If a cover interests you just click on the link to learn more about the book.
My December winner is:
The Blood of Princes by Derek Birks
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At first glance this cover looks simple enough but the longer you look at it you realise how clever it is. The bloodied crown tell you all you need to know. Between the covers of this book lies a tale of intrigue, betrayal and murder. Congrats Derek!
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A savage tale of love, treason and betrayal. A bloody struggle for power at the heart of the royal court.
In April 1483, the sudden death of King Edward IV brings his 12 year old son to the throne. Restless young lord and ex-mercenary John Elder is newly-appointed to the service of Edward, Prince of Wales, and charged with the boy’s safety. His first task, escorting the new king to London for his coronation, seems a simple one but the accession of a boy king raises concerns among the leading noblemen of the land.
As old jealousies and feuds are rekindled, the new king’s uncle, Richard, Duke of Gloucester, seizes control and plunges the kingdom into crisis. But is Gloucester young Edward’s enemy, or saviour?
While John, outlawed and trapped, must wait to see how events unfold, other members of the battle-scarred Elder family are drawn, one by one, into his conspiracy. Soon they are mired so deep in the murky underbelly of London society, that there seems no hope of escape from the tangle of intrigue and murder.
In the end, all lives will hang upon the outcome of a daring incursion into the Tower of London itself.
To find out more, please click here
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As always, it was difficult to choose. Here are some other wonderful covers to tempt you!
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It is France in 1940. Delphi, Rainier and their daughter Flora must flee the Nazi advance. They go to the vineyard of Flora’s step-cousin, Luca, in the Vichy Zone Libre.
Despite Luca’s resentment of Flora she is attracted to him, but there is a traitor among them and, mysteriously, he is absent much of the time.
Then there is her employer, Andre, mayor, sponsored by the Nazis, but he is lonely after the death of his wife and young daughter. Should she spy on his activities, betraying his trust and friendship and putting herself and her family in danger?
Resistance fighter or collaborator; petulance or passion; divided loyalties and discovered love. This is a love story and a mild thriller set during turbulent times in France.
To find out more, please click here
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British-trained Norwegian intelligence agent Tore Haugland has enough worries when he is sent to a tiny fishing hamlet on the west coast of Norway to set up a line to receive arms and agents from England via the “Shetland Bus.” Posing as a deaf fisherman, his mission is complicated when he falls in love with Anna Fromme, the German widow of an old family friend. Accused of betraying her husband, she has a small daughter and secrets of her own. Though the Allies have liberated France and the Netherlands, the most zealous of the Nazis hang on in Norway, sending out agents to disembowel local resistance groups. If Haugland fails it could not only cost him his life, but those of the fishermen who have joined him. When Haugland is betrayed and left for dead, he will not only have to find the one who betrayed him and destroyed his network, but also prove that the one he loved was not the informer.
To find out more, please click here
And the not so small print: the judge’s decision is final (that would be me!) and is highly subjective.
Please note this is a cover competition only and does not constitute a review of any of the books featured. It’s up to you to explore. Happy Reading!
***
Don’t forget, if you read a book and love it, post a review and make an author happy.
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November 26, 2018
10 Questions with Author Pam Lecky
A huge thank you to Linda Covella for hosting me today. A great selection of questions which had me thinking long and hard. Very enjoyable!
Today author Pam Lecky joins us to answer “10 Questions” about her writing. Pam writes historical fiction and has published an impressive range of subgenres, including crime, mystery, romance, and the supernatural.
Linda Covella: Welcome, Pam!
When and why did you decide to become a writer?
Pam Lecky: That’s quite difficult to answer – it’s certainly back in the mists of time! My first foray into writing was poetry – angst-ridden teenage stuff which I would shudder to read now. However, I did win a prize for it, so some of it may not have been too dreadful!
There was no one moment when I thought I am going to become a writer. But I’ve always had stories knocking around in my head. While on a career break from work, I was reading a book with a very unsatisfactory ending and I remember thinking I could do better…
View original post 1,779 more words
November 10, 2018
The Telegram #WW1 #Free #Short Story
Dedicated to the Memory of
Private M O’Shea, Leinster Regiment,
who died in Wimereux, Northern France, in October 1916.
The Telegram
Ireland, 1914
Bill Ryan was my eldest brother. He was a popular lad with a ready smile, always set for mischief. At twelve years of age, I looked up to him and adored him, as did my younger brother David and little George who was only three. Our universe was a tiny part of County Meath; our world a small farmstead which had been handed down to our father. Mother worked hard and although she was strict, she was a loving and kind-hearted woman. My father, however, was a hard man. Often aloof, his stern gaze was enough to put the fear of God into you.
When Bill finally plucked up the courage to broach the subject of signing-up, he met with strong resistance. But he persevered. We must defeat the Hun, he said to them, his voice resonating with conviction. As David and I listened from behind the door, my heart sang. How brave he was! But father flatly refused to listen – Bill was needed on the farm and that was the end of the nonsense. Mother pleaded with Bill as only a mother can. But in the end, he presented them with a fait accompli, arriving home one day in uniform.
His cheery words on departure didn’t fool me; I saw the fear in the depths of his hazel eyes. But he had always been stubborn, my brother, and as proud as all the Ryan men before him. As he disappeared down the narrow laneway, I was bewildered. Why did he have to go, I wondered, and not someone else’s brother? He was only eighteen. One last wave and he turned towards the road. The rest of us returned to the house but mother stood still, despite the chill of the early morning, and watched until the twist in the laneway took him out of sight.
For the first few months after he left, Bill’s letters had arrived from the Curragh training camp almost every week. Ironically, father read them out to us, his voice ringing proud. Mother sat white-faced and said not a word, her knitting needles clicking furiously. Even when one letter contained a photograph of Bill in uniform, she could barely look at it without her eyes welling up.
But one Saturday morning the dreaded news arrived; Bill’s regiment was off to France. My mother gasped, her hand to her throat. My father glared at her and shook his head. She made for the stairs, her shoulders rigid as if she feared she would splinter into tiny pieces. I watched my father’s face. Would he follow her? But he carefully folded the letter and put it away with the others in the drawer of the dresser. He would not meet my eye but hauled on his heavy coat and slapped his flat cap on his head, his expression grim. I sat at the table, uncertain. Come along, Joe, he said standing in the doorway, there’s work to be done. I was confused because I could hear my mother’s sobs. Why did he not go and comfort her? David looked at me, the same question in his eyes. Father tapped impatiently on the door frame then grunted. What was I supposed to do? Torn, I could only shrug at David and follow my father out the door.
A year passed and life continued as normal on the farm, but I look back on the winter of 1915, its horrors crystal clear in my mind. I knew the world was at war. What boy in Ireland, or indeed the world, did not? The wireless spoke of little else. Every night, my father would turn it on and sit, head bent, listening to the news. Belgium, France and names of places I had never heard before, tripped off the announcer’s tongue. Marnes. Ypres. Neuve Chapelle. We had no atlas in the house. I pestered my father to explain where these places were. He would shake his head and tell me gruffly to ask the schoolmaster in the morning. It was only years later I realised he hadn’t known either. Soon those far-flung places were a part of my vocabulary.
October slid into November and winter’s icy tentacles stole under the door and through the cracks in the ancient window frames, chilling us to the bone. Night-time was the worst. I snuggled up to George in the narrow bed against the wall in the attic, but it made no difference. We shivered in unison under the thin wool blanket. Not that I slept much. Between the scratchy blanket and my anxious thoughts, sleep was elusive. Where was Bill? What was he doing? Each morning we awoke to frost on the bed cover and ice on the inside of the windows. At my mother’s bidding, I broke the ice in the top of the bucket of water and helped George wash his hands and face. Father grumbled it was the foulest winter he had ever known.
Off to school with you, my mother would say, pushing us older boys out the door each morning. It wasn’t too bad once you got over the initial blast of frigid air, but we had wanted snow not this crackling hoar-frost that made your ears and nose hurt and your eyes water. I had found Bill’s old woollen hat out in the barn and commandeered it. My younger brother David wanted it too and we fought like cats for it. It was worth the thrashing I received from my father when he saw David’s black eye, for that hat smelt of Bill’s tobacco and gave me comfort.
Once in France, Bill’s letters became less frequent and mother’s knitting became more frantic. She used her egg money to pay for the postage on the parcels she sent to him. As she stood at the kitchen table, carefully wrapping the knitted items in brown paper, my father would watch in silence. Clearly he was unhappy. I wondered if he begrudged Bill those things or was it the expense of the postage. However, I was proud she entrusted me with the trip into town to the post office. Mr O’Connor always smiled at me and ruffled my hair. You’re a good brother, young Joe, he’d say. He always gave me a peppermint cream from one of the glass jars behind the counter.
No one believed it was possible the winter could become any colder. But it did. December was soon upon us and with it came the snow storms. The laneway to our house was deep with snow. It was so bad we could not go to school. Each of us dreaded when it was our turn to bring the bucket out to the barn to fill it with turf. Our chilblains and sniffles were nothing compared to what the boys were suffering in the trenches in France, my mother would say. I tried to imagine what it must be like and prayed every night that God would keep Bill safe. Wouldn’t the best Christmas present be him coming home for a few days? But I didn’t dare voice this as I could tell my mother was frantic with worry; the permanent frown on her forehead testament to her inner turmoil.
Bill had been absent so long now I was finding it hard to remember his face or the sound of his voice. This distressed me for I felt I was betraying him in some way. When it became unbearable, I’d sneak up to the attic and hold his hat in my hands and try hard to remember. I’d picture happier times, mucking about in the fields or proudly working by his side at harvest time. It helped a little.
Whenever there was a break in the weather, I trudged to the post office, mother’s parcel tucked under my arm. God forgive me, but all I thought of was that peppermint cream. Two weeks passed and no letters came, then three. My mother anxiously waited for my return and scanned my hands as I’d come in the door. No post, young man, she’d ask, her voice cracking. Guiltily, I’d shrug and shake my head. I’d slip off to do my chores, uncomfortable to be around her. But dread is contagious. We all fell victim to it as the atmosphere in the house deteriorated. The silence from France continued.
The next week as I entered the post office there was a huddle of people at the counter, deep in conversation. Someone coughed and Mr O’Connor looked over his glasses at me. The customers fell silent. Ah, young Joe, is it, he asked. I thought that was a strange thing to say. Did he not know me well? He shifted on his feet, glancing at the other customers who were still watching me in silence. My stomach flipped over as I wracked my brains. Had I done something wrong? Had someone snitched on us for stealing those apples last autumn?
Mr O’Connor cleared his throat. I put the parcel up on the counter as usual but he didn’t take it. He winced and turned away momentarily. Pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, he let out a slow breath. Then he handed me a small envelope. Take this telegram to your parents, son, he said at last. He seemed to be having trouble swallowing. My eyes strayed to the jar on the shelf behind him, but he didn’t take the hint. Disappointed, I knew there would be no treat today and cursed my bad luck. As I closed the door behind me, I heard the customers’ voices rise. I hurried home, out of temper, the telegram rammed into my jacket pocket.
Wimereux, France, 1955
My wife June consulted the map as our hire car slowly rounded the bend in the road. It should be up ahead, she said, tapping the map with a finger. I hadn’t been sure about dragging her along on this trip, but of course I should never have doubted her. My rock.
The little Citroën spluttered as I changed gear. My nerves were starting to jangle. I sensed June was concerned, but I kept my eyes on the road ahead. Driving on the ‘wrong side of the road’ was testing my mettle. I’d already had a run-in with an irate farmer and his tractor. The small town was much like every other we had passed through during the trip. A seaside town, it was off-season now and the streets were almost deserted. With a shaking hand, I wound down the window. Instantly, I could smell the sea although I could not see it. I wondered if Bill had liked it here; did he get a chance to paddle in the water? Silently, I berated myself – of course he didn’t. It was a bloody war!
I felt irritable suddenly. What had possessed me to come here? David and George had thought it a strange thing to do. But, of course, their memories of Bill were not as vivid as mine. I ground the gears again and cursed under my breath. Where was this blasted place? I knew my French was far too basic to ask directions. Keep going, June said, when I voiced this thought. What a sensible woman she was – I took a few deep breaths and began to relax again.
All of a sudden we came upon it. The cemetery wall was high but you could make out the tops of crosses and monuments. I parked up. For several moments I sat perfectly still and concentrated on my breathing. I was finally here. Easing my grip on the steering wheel, I turned to my wife. Do you mind if I do this alone, I asked her. She smiled and nodded.
I paused at the gateway, a trifle confused. This looked like an ordinary French cemetery, not a military one. It was then I realised there was another cemetery directly behind it. Through an archway and a little gate was the War Graves Commission cemetery. It was stark but strangely beautiful with row upon row of flat headstones lying flush with neatly mown lawn. As I walked along counting the rows, I realised my face was wet with tears. So many graves! Had all of these men been Bill’s comrades? But as I stopped and read some of the inscriptions, I realised they were from many different regiments. The only link was where they had died; the field hospital at the edge of the town.
Bill’s grave was right at the back under the shadow of a high wall. I’m not sure how long I stood there as images of the day we learned of his death flooded my mind. My mother had collapsed shaking into a chair when I attempted to hand her the telegram. I had not realised what it was, but of course she knew immediately what it meant. Panicking, I had yelled at David to fetch our father and he almost tripped out the door in his haste. Father had come bustling in from the barn then stopped dead when he saw my mother struggling to breathe. His chin wobbled and his hand snaked out and snatched the telegram from my hand. Take your brothers to your aunt’s house, he’d said in a strangled voice. I knew it was serious, for he disliked my Aunt Lily intensely.
Forty years had not dulled the pain of that day; it was engraved as a watermark on my life’s page.
I caught movement and looked up to see June making her way slowly towards me. As our eyes met she hesitated, but I gestured to her it was alright. Thankfully, she didn’t say a word but came up close and smiled her encouragement. I took a deep breath and pulled the woollen hat out of my pocket. It no longer smelt of tobacco. It no longer smelt of Bill.
But I placed it on the headstone and said a silent prayer for my long-lost brother.
The End
© Pam Lecky 2018
November 5, 2018
Historical Fiction Cover Winner November 2018 with @carolJhedges @SuzanLauder @xtnaboyd
What draws you to a historical fiction book cover?
Each month I will be choosing my ‘Pam’s Pick’. Hopefully, you will be intrigued enough to look beyond the covers I feature and find your next favourite author. If a cover interests you just click on the link to learn more about the book.
My November winner is:
Wonders & Wickedness by Carol Hedges
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OK, I have a confession to make; I’m a big fan of Carol’s Victorian detective stories. Although I haven’t read this book yet, I’m sure it is as entertaining and original as the others in the series. The dark and broody image immediately transports you to the underbelly of Victorian London. I just love it! Congrats Carol!
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1864 marks the arrival of a brand new department store right in the shopping heart of Oxford Street. What owner John Gould does not expect, is the presence of a dead man in one of his display windows. How did he get there? And why has Gould’s store been picked out as a murder location?
Meanwhile Sir Hugh and Lady Meriel Wynward are not expecting to hear from their daughter Sybella, who died in a railway accident two years ago. So when a letter written in her hand arrives unexpectedly, on what would have been her eighteenth birthday, it throws them into turmoil. What is going on?
Bleak expectations dog the progress of Stride and Cully ,two of Scotland Yard’s finest detectives , as they embark upon their most complex case so far. The twists and turns of the investigation will lead them into a murky mire of murder and blackmail, and the strange dark underground world of Victorian spiritualism.
To find out more, please click here
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As always, it was difficult to choose. Here are some other wonderful covers to tempt you!
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Letter from Ramsgate is a Pride and Prejudice variation suitable for most audiences (youth and up).
On holiday in Ramsgate, Elizabeth Bennet befriends shy, romantic Georgiana Darcy, who shares an adoring description of an ideal elder brother. When Georgiana discloses a secret infatuation with her brother’s “close friend” Mr. Wickham, Elizabeth’s altered perception of both men affects her actions and alliances.
The secret within an anonymous letter from Ramsgate ties Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth together but also separates them. A second missive unlocks the disguise, but Mr. Darcy realizes his true passions too late to assist Elizabeth in her darkest hour. Will the shocking disclosure of a forgotten letter transform his understanding of her heart and lead them to embrace their future?
To find out more, please click here
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“One has all the goodness, and the other all the appearance of it.” —Jane Austen
Jane Austen’s masterpieces are littered with unsuitable gentlemen—Willoughby, Wickham, Churchill, Crawford, Tilney, Elliot, et al.— adding color and depth to her plots but often barely sketched. Have you never wondered about the pasts of her rakes, rattles, and gentlemen rogues? Surely, there’s more than one side to their stories.
It is a universal truth, we are captivated by smoldering looks, daring charms … a happy-go-lucky, cool confidence. All the while, our loyal confidants are shouting on deaf ears: “He is a cad—a brute—all wrong!” But is that not how tender hearts are broken … by loving the undeserving? How did they become the men Jane Austen created?
In this romance anthology, eleven Austenesque authors expose the histories of Austen’s anti-heroes. “Dangerous to Know: Jane Austen’s Rakes & Gentlemen Rogues” is a titillating collection of Georgian era short stories—a backstory or parallel tale off-stage of canon—whilst remaining steadfast to the characters we recognize in Austen’s great works.
What say you? Everyone may be attracted to a bad boy … even temporarily … but heaven help us if we marry one.
Stories by: Karen M Cox * J. Marie Croft * Amy D’Orazio * Jenetta James * Lona Manning * Christina Morland * Beau North * Katie Oliver * Sophia Rose * Joana Starnes * Brooke West. Foreword by: Claudine di Muzio Pepe
To find out more, please click here
And the not so small print: the judge’s decision is final (that would be me!) and is highly subjective.
Please note this is a cover competition only and does not constitute a review of any of the books featured. It’s up to you to explore. Happy Reading!
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Watch out every month for the next featured selection of great covers, and don’t forget, if you read a book and love it, post a review and make an author happy.
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October 29, 2018
A Conversation with Author Dianne Freeman
This evening in the Library we have Dianne Freeman, who has dropped in to say hello and to share some insights into her life as an author.
[image error]A special welcome to you, Dianne. I love to chat with historical fiction authors, particularly those who write in the same time period as I do. Please tell us a little about yourself:
I’m a life-long book lover who retired from the world of corporate finance to pursue my passion for writing. After co-authoring the non-fiction book, Haunted Highway, The Spirits of Route 66, I realized my true love was fiction, historical mystery in particular. I also realized I didn’t like winter very much so now my husband and I pursue the endless summer by splitting our time between Michigan and Arizona.
Did you read much as a child? Are you an avid reader now? Do you prefer books in your own genre or are you happy to explore others?
When I was about eight years old, my family moved to a house about 3 blocks from the public library and I’ve been an avid reader ever since. I don’t get to read quite as much now as I used to but while historical mystery is my favorite genre, I enjoy all varieties of historical fiction and most types of mystery.
Are you self-published or traditionally published?
I’m traditionally published with Kensington Books.
Which genre do you write in and why?
I write historical mystery with a bit of humor. I started with this genre because it’s what I love to read. I continued because I enjoy digging into the late Victorian era, plotting a crime, then creating a story around it. I love leaving clues then leading readers in the wrong direction with a scattering of red-herrings.
Who has been the biggest influence on your writing?
I like to think if Janet Evanovich and Edith Wharton had ever been able to collaborate, they might have come up with a main character like my Frances Wynn. (I also like to think there are no calories in food eaten while standing so what do I know?) But I’ve definitely been influenced by Evanovich’s humor and the elite world of Wharton’s books.
Has your country of origin/culture influenced your writing?
I’d imagine it must have, but not in anyway I could define.
What part of the writing process do you find most difficult? How do you overcome it?
I write in drafts, so every time I have to return to page one and start the next draft I have a moment of dread that I won’t be able to fix whatever is wrong. I’ve found if I print the draft and read it through first, maybe jotting a few (hundred) notes, I realize it’s not that bad and I can tackle whatever problems it presents.
Do you have a favourite time of day to write?
Late afternoon is my favorite time, but I like to take a walk to think about what I need to write before I sit down and actually do it, so sometimes weather can interfere with my writing schedule.
What is the best thing about being an author? And the flipside – what is the worst?
I have a feeling this is a common answer, but I love the whole process of writing—the research, plotting, spinning a tale—it’s like traveling to another world. Marketing and promoting aren’t all bad, they can actually be fun, but they really take up a lot of time.
Is social media an essential chore or something you enjoy? Which forum do you prefer?
I do enjoy social media, but as mentioned above, it can be so time consuming. My favorite way to distract myself would be Facebook.
If you weren’t an author, what would you be up to?
I’m retired so I’d go back to doing whatever I want, which would include plenty of reading, gardening, and maybe I’d even learn how to cook.
It’s the last day and the earth is facing oblivion – what book would you read?
Pride and Prejudice – again. At least I already know how it ends in case I don’t get to finish it.
[image error]Please tell us what you are working on and your latest published work.
I’m currently working on book three of The Countess of Harleigh Mysteries. Book one, A Lady’s Guide to Etiquette and Murder released in June, 2018.
The story takes place in London in 1899. Frances Wynn, Countess of Harleigh, is a widow dealing with a high society burglar, a marriage-mad sister, and a murder. When the London season turns deadly, she fears one of her sister’s suitors may be the killer. Frances must rally her wits and a circle of gossiping friends and enemies to unmask the culprit before she becomes his next victim.
If you would like to know more about Dianne and her work, please check out her links below:
Website: https://difreeman.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/DianneFreemanAuthor/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/Difreeman001
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/diannefreemanwrites/
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/17347322.Dianne_Freeman
October 17, 2018
Hallowe’en Horror Tales – Introducing Irish Historical Novelist and Ghost Story Author – Catherine Kullmann
Today I’m delighted to welcome to Unusual Fiction, fellow Irish author; Catherine Kullmann. While Catherine’s usual work is in the historical romantic fiction genre, her book of choice for our horror series; The Zombi of Caisteal Dun, falls under the genre of gothic/zombie horror which in one swoop combines two of my favourite horror genres in one and is currently at the top of my tbr list!
Catherine Kullmann was born and educated in Dublin. Following a three-year courtship conducted mostly by letter, she moved to Germany where she lived for twenty-six years before returning to Ireland. She and her husband of over forty years have three adult sons and two grandchildren. Catherine has worked in the Irish and New Zealand public services and in the private sector.
After taking early retirement Catherine was finally able to fulfil her life-long ambition to write fiction. Her debut novel, The Murmur…
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October 8, 2018
A Conversation with Author Mary Anne Yarde @maryanneyarde
This evening in the Library we have Mary Anne Yarde, who has dropped in to say hello and to share some insights into her life as an author.
You are very welcome, Mary Anne, please introduce yourself:
[image error]Hello everyone, and thank you, Pam, for inviting me on to your fabulous blog! My name is Mary Anne Yarde, and I hail from a village just outside of Bath, England. I grew up surrounded by the rolling Mendip Hills in Somerset.
I have been writing for around 14 years. But I didn’t really take my writing very seriously until four years ago. I published my debut novel, The Du lac Chronicles, in 2016.
Did you read much as a child? Are you an avid reader now? Do you prefer books in your own genre or are you happy to explore others?
I was the child that always had a book in her hand, and that has not changed. As a teenager, I devoured books by Austen, Hardy and Dickens. Now, I like to read a broad genre of books. But my preferred choice would always be historical fiction, although I don’t mind a good thriller or romance now and then!
Are you self-published or traditionally published?
I am self-published. I love the freedom and the control that this gives me.
Which genre do you write in and why?
I write historical fiction set in Dark Age Britain. My writing is heavily influenced by the folklore of that time as well. I thoroughly enjoy writing about this era.
Who has been the biggest influence on your writing?
I grew up with the classical writers, and then I discovered Catherine Cookson. I don’t think there is one author whom I can say really influenced my writing. Perhaps it is a combination of them all.
Has your country of origin/culture influenced your writing?
I grew up surrounded by the rolling Mendip Hills in Somerset — the famous town of Glastonbury was a mere 15 minutes from my childhood home. Glastonbury is a little bit unique i[image error]n the sense that it screams Arthurian Legend. Even the road sign that welcomes you into Glastonbury says…
“Welcome to Glastonbury. The Ancient Isle of Avalon.”
How could I grow up in such a place and not be influenced by the stories of King Arthur?
I loved the stories of King Arthur and his Knights as a child, but I always felt let down by the ending. For those not familiar, there is a big battle at a place called Camlann. Arthur is fatally wounded. He is taken to Avalon. His famous sword is thrown back into the lake. Arthur dies. His Knights, if they are not already dead, become hermits. The end.
What an abrupt and unsatisfactory ending to such a wonderful story. I did not buy that ending. So my series came about not only because of my love for everything Arthurian, but also because I wanted to write an alternative ending. I wanted to explore what happened after Arthur’s death.
What part of the writing process do you find most difficult? How do you overcome it?
I find the beginning the most difficult. Staring at that blank screen can be pretty intimidating. The only way to overcome it is to write something. Anything. After that, I find the process a great deal easier!
Do you have a favourite time of day to write?
My favourite time of day to write is in the afternoons.
What is the best thing about being an author? And the flipside – what is the worst?
I love the creative journey that each book takes me on. For me, it is little like being Bilbo Baggins from The Hobbit — I know where I have to get to, I am just not sure as to what kind of adventures I shall encounter along the way. What a great way to earn a living. I go on an adventure every day, and I don’t have to leave the house! The flipside… I enjoy the promoting side of being a writer, but it does take up a considerable amount of time. Unfortunately, it goes hand in hand with publishing.
Is social media an essential chore or something you enjoy? Which forum do you prefer?
I think social media is essential for all authors, no matter how they are published. It is a great way to connect with readers. I have certainly met some really lovely people, especially in the author community, through social media. My preferred forum is Twitter, and you can usually find me on there.
If you weren’t an author, what would you be up to?
I also tutor history and music. So if you took away the writing, I would still be a tutor.
Please tell us about your latest published work.
I have just released The Du Lac Prophecy (Book 4 of The Du Lac Chronicles), and I am now starting work on Book 5 which is taking me to Jerusalem in the late 5th Century. I am really enjoying researching the history of this fascinating city.
The Du Lac Prophecy: (Book 4 of The Du Lac Chronicles)
[image error]Two Prophesies. Two Noble Households. One Throne.
Distrust and greed threaten to destroy the House of du Lac. Mordred Pendragon strengthens his hold on Brittany and the surrounding kingdoms while Alan, Mordred’s cousin, embarks on a desperate quest to find Arthur’s lost knights. Without the knights and the relics they hold in trust, they cannot defeat Arthur’s only son – but finding the knights is only half of the battle. Convincing them to fight on the side of the Du Lac’s, their sworn enemy, will not be easy.
If Alden, King of Cerniw, cannot bring unity there will be no need for Arthur’s knights. With Budic threatening to invade Alden’s Kingdom, Merton putting love before duty, and Garren disappearing to goodness knows where, what hope does Alden have? If Alden cannot get his House in order, Mordred will destroy them all.
Buy Links:
If you would like to know more about Mary Anne and her books please check out her social media links below:
Website/Blog: https://maryanneyarde.blogspot.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/maryanneyarde/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/maryanneyarde
Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/Mary-Anne-Yarde/e/B01C1WFATA/
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/15018472.Mary_Anne_Yarde
