Pam Lecky's Blog, page 26

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

 

 

 

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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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.

 

Buy Link – Amazon US

Buy Link – Amazon UK

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

 

 

 

Hallowe’en Horror Tales – Introducing Irish Historical Novelist and Ghost Story Author – Catherine Kullmann

Unusual Fiction

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…

View original post 939 more words

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:

Amazon US

Amazon UK

Amazon Canada

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

 

 

 

Historical Fiction Cover Winner October 2018 with @nicolasladeuk @nansjar @vanessainfrance

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 October winner is:
The House at Ladywell by Nicola Slade 

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This cover has such impact. The simplicity and elegance of it jumped out immediately. Strong contrasting colours can be very effective and in this case work perfectly. If I saw this in a bookshop or scrolling online, I would definitely pause and investigate to learn more. Congrats to Nicola!

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A hare carved in stone, and the scent of flowers in a house full of echoes – can Freya’s inheritance help her to leave the past behind?

‘Had I gone completely crazy that first day? To open the door, take one astonished look round, and decide on the spot that I would live there? To fall in love with a house?’

When Freya Gibson inherits an old, run-down property she has no idea she is the last in a long line of redoubtable women, including the Tudor nun who built the house. Unknown to Freya, these women, over centuries, fought with whatever weapons came to hand – deception, endurance, even murder – to preserve their home and family.

Freya falls in love with the house, but her inheritance includes an enigmatic letter telling her to ‘restore the balance’ of the Lady’s Well. Besides this, the house seems to be haunted by the scent of flowers.

In the past, the Lady’s Well was a place of healing, and Freya soon feels safe and at home, but she has demons of her own to conquer before she can accept the happiness that beckons.

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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AD 71 Northern Roman Britain

Lorcan of the Brigantes knows that unity of the northern tribes is essential when the Ancient Roman legions advance northwards to Brigantia. Yet, everything comes at a price. Using his captive, Nara, as a political bargain with the Selgovae comes with impossible stipulations. Battle at Whorl – Iron Age tribes against the Romans – is inevitable.

Will Nara have her Beltane choice?

The adventures of the Garrigill Clan begin…

To find out more, please click here
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For fans of all things French, a collection of short stories from the author of The House at Zaronza.

France is a land steeped in history, whose landscapes and light have enthused writers and artists for centuries. Beneath the dust of ages lie buried countless personal histories, which have inspired this collection of twelve fictional short stories.

Can Arlette resolve her predicament while her sweetheart fights in the trenches on the Western Front? By escaping to the countryside, will a woman be allowed to leave behind her troubled past? The celebrated painter Edgar Degas wants to paint an exotic circus performer, but will the portrait match her expectations? Can the unsightly Pierre get the girl he is afraid will never want him? These are just four of the dilemmas that must be resolved by the stories’ end.

Most of the tales are set in the past and a few contain a hint of the supernatural. All are infused with the essence of France.

Editor’s Note: I have read this collection and really enjoyed it.

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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#Review : The Bowes Inheritance by Pam Lecky (@pamlecky)

Reviews such as this make for a very happy author! Thanks Frankie

Chicks,Rogues and Scandals

Historical Romantic Suspense and Mystery with a Dash of Rebellion …

Dublin 1882: When determined but impoverished Louisa Campbell inherits a large estate in the north of England, it appears to be the answer to her prayers. Her younger sister, Eleanor, is gravely ill, and believing the country air will benefit her, they take up residence at Bowes Farm.

However, they soon realise all they have inherited is trouble. Their mysterious benefactor’s reputation leaves the young women battling to gain acceptance in polite society, especially with Nicholas Maxwell, their handsome neighbour and local magistrate.

Louisa unearths secrets from their family’s past that threaten their future and she must dig deep to find the courage to solve them before their lives are destroyed. But most importantly of all, can she trust and love the man who is surely her sworn enemy?

B.R.A.G. Medallion Award: A ‘Discovered Diamond’ Novel: Shortlisted for The…

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Hallowe’en Horror Tales – Welcoming back Author William Todd

A great interview with William Todd who writes some really scary short stories.

Unusual Fiction

Welcome to Unusual Fiction. We’re gearing up for Hallowe’en with the focus, very much on horror fiction with a selection of ghost stories, ghoulish interviews and tasty titbits of terror. It’s with great pleasure that I introduce the first of our writers of dark fiction, I’m delighted to welcome back author of sublime Gothic Fiction – William Todd.

Question 1
What draws you to horror as a genre?

I like being scared.That feeling of dread that makes your heart race.

Question 2
In your opinion, what are the essential components of a great ghost story?

For me, the setting is almost as important as the monster. If you have read any of my works, you know that I put much thought into where the story takes place and how it interacts with the characters. If done correctly, the setting can come alive on its own and add to the fear…

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Spooktacular Ghost Story Month: Pam Lecky

For the month of October I will be bringing you Spooktacular Ghost Story authors to get you in the Halloween spirit. Give books instead of candy!

Source: Spooktacular Ghost Story Month: Pam Lecky

Are you #ScaredYet? Frightful Reads for #Halloween #BeAfraid

If you are a fan of ghost stories you have come to the right place. In honour of Halloween, we are pleased to introduce you to some tales from the dark side to make you shiver! A mix of short stories and novels – 10 fabulously scary reads.

The Lighthouse Keeper by Pam Lecky

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It’s Sally and Alex’s first weekend away together and romance is definitely on Sally’s mind. But why is Alex acting so out of character? When strange things begin to happen, Sally wonders if they are alone in their coastal getaway …

Buy Link: http://MyBook.to/Lighthouse

Mayday! by Pam Lecky

[image error]World War I is raging and German U-Boats are prowling the south coast of Ireland looking for prey. Steaming towards them is HMS Lusitania …

Valentine Lambert is facing another tedious day as an office clerk. But a premonition of disaster is the precursor to the most extraordinary day of his life.

Buy Link: Mayday!

The Flapper Affair by Tam Francis

[image error]The Flapper Affair is a paranormal romance – the story of two young lovers crossed by time, space, and an unsolved murder. Eduard Hall is an odd young man. Unlike his eighteen-year-old peers, he likes black and white movies, 1920s hot jazz, and museum docents who dress in reproduction flapper dresses. So it would figure that the one girl he’d fall in love with, Mia Waverly, would be a beautiful ghost from the famous Waverly family, brutally murdered seventy years ago. Though her body was never found.

The only home she’s ever known is the museum where Eduard works, but not for long. The city’s sold the land, and the building is scheduled for demolition. Why can’t she remember her death? Why is she the only ghost from her family? Why is she bound to the property? What will happen to her when her home is destroyed? With time running out and through extraordinary forces, they travel back in time to the night of the murders, setting off a chain of events that will change everything. If they can solve the mystery, they may save her and her family, but lose each other forever.

Buy Link: The Flapper Affair

Ghostoria by Tam Francis

[image error]Do you like scary stories with a little romance and a vintage twist? Welcome to Ghostoria. What happens when a WWII secretary is trapped in the office with a ghost and the only way out is to make an unwelcome choice? Drive-in movies, hot rods, and jitterbugs populate Long Way Home; can one young man survive a bloody night in a historic cemetery with his girlfriend? Young residents of a cursed Texas town grapple with what they’re willing to sacrifice in order to save their crops, animals and loved ones? Can a kindergarten teacher silence the talking doll that has frightened her students by solving a fifty year old mystery? Find out what happens when a college coed gets more than she bargained for with her vintage swing dress. A lone lady hitchhiker hops a ride in a 1959 El Dorado Cadillac by a roadside grave. Who will be alive at the end of the drive? A turn of the century jail that housed murderers, liars, and thieves for over a hundred years is taken over by six teenagers on Halloween. What happens when a childhood chant turns deadly? Those are just a few haunts and haints that populate this world of unrequited love, woe and mystery. Ghostoria will gnaw the corners of your mind and challenge your ideas about life, love and death long after you leave.

Buy Link: Ghostoria

Death Comes Calling by FB Hogan

[image error]Death comes calling and decides to stay. A selection of dark fiction for lovers of Gothic horror. Pull the shutters and bolt the door. Keep the fire burning and the candles lit. Something is coming. Listen for the knock at the door but whatever you do, don’t let it in.

Buy Link: Death Comes Calling

The Nightmare by FB Hogan

[image error]Seven cleverly crafted tales of Gothic and contemporary horror to keep you awake at night. An ancient creature haunts a Victorian spiritualist, an over imaginative child conjures up horrors in the dark, a boy plays a dangerous game of chance and there’s something rather nasty in the playhouse. Ghosts and devils fight for a corner in this creepy collection of dark fiction, from the imagination of the author who brought you Death Comes Calling. Do you dare?

Buy Link: The Nightmare

Beyond the Gossamer Veil by William Todd

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The curtain that separates the living from the dead is never as impenetrable as we think it is. What would we see if the two worlds intermingled? Angels? Demons? Wonder? Fear? In this compilation, some stories are inspirational. Some are macabre; but all will give you a glimpse into what is Beyond the Gossamer Veil.

Buy Link: Beyond the Gossamer Veil

 

The Celtic Curse: Newgrange by DJ Doyle

[image error]Haunted for years by dreams of death and mysterious rituals, Jess Young travels to Ireland in search of answers. Her search becomes a race against time when her friend is abducted by Celtic Druids bent on resurrecting the Morrigan; the Celtic goddess of war and death.

Jess must seek help from an ancient Order of Christians and some unorthodox Catholic priests before time runs out for her friend . . . and the world. Whom can Jess trust while being hunted by the Celtic Druids of our time? If Jess follows her destiny, is the fate of mankind safe in her hands?

Buy Link: The Celtic Curse: Newgrange

Christ on a Bike! by DJ Doyle

[image error]A short spin-off story from The Celtic Curse: Newgrange, just for a little giggle. I hope this will be the  start of something bigger for Father Jack and his posse.  Father Jack and his pontification of priests are on their travels to conduct an exorcism. Demons can lurk in every corner. Can Father Jack overcome the demons within?

Buy Link: Christ on a Bike!

 

The Zombi of Caisteal Dun by Catherine Kullmann

[image error]Scotland, 1798. Amabel had not wanted to come to the remote highland keep of Caisteal Dun but her mother felt it was in her destiny to go there. Mamma was second-sighted but not even she could foresee the doom that threatened her daughter.

Amabel’s dead lover, Rob, calls to her in her dreams. Can she save him?

Buy Link: The Zombi of Caisteal Dun