Mary Anne Yarde's Blog: The Coffee Pot Book Club , page 160

Judith Arnopps's fabulous new book, Sisters of Arden, is now available on #NetGalley #Booksgosocial #HistoricalFiction @JudithArnopp @LPOBryan

Have you heard…?
Judith Arnopp's fabulous new book, Sisters of Arden , is available on NetGalley for your reading pleasure. If you love great historical fiction then this is the book for you. 

Sisters Of Arden

Arden Priory has remained unchanged for almost four hundred years. When a nameless child is abandoned at the gatehouse door, the nuns take her in and raise her as one of their own.
As Henry VIII’s second queen dies on the scaffold, the embittered King strikes out, and unprecedented change sweeps across the country. The bells of the great abbeys fall silent, the church and the very foundation of the realm begins to crack.
Determined to preserve their way of life, novitiate nuns Margery and Grace join a pilgrimage thirty thousand strong to lead the king back to grace.
Sisters of Arden is a story of valour, virtue and veritas.
To grab your copy of Sisters of ArdenClick
HERE!

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Christmas in the time of Queen Victoria By Pam Lecky #Victorian #Christmas @pamlecky

Christmas in the time
Of Queen Victoria
By Pam Lecky 




A 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 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?
The Christmas TreePrince 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.


©iStock.com/clu

Christmas Gifts & Santa ClausGradually 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 17thcentury 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 CrackerAnother 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 CardSir 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.
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. 
©iStock.com/Whitemay
Christmas DinnerThe 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.
Christmas EntertainmentChristmas 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 were extremely popular although not new by any means. The Victorians, however, revived their popularity with the first collection of carols published in 1833.


©iStock.com/Cannasue

It was the Victorian love of homecoming and the joy of family at Yuletide, which partly inspired my novelette, Christmas at Malton Manor .
A huge thank you to Mary Anne for hosting me today and I would like to take the opportunity to wish you all a very joyous Christmas and a Happy New Year.

Christmas at Malton Manor

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?

Excerpt  Bristol, December 1884It was almost Christmas. In a dreary drawing room in a wealthy suburb of Bristol, the twenty-four year old, auburn-haired and green-eyed Miss Kate Hamilton, sat staring at the meagre fire in the grate, willing the feeling to return to her icy toes and the hands of the clock to move faster. Her pretty eyes were dull with boredom, a fact which would have astonished those who knew her well. But the position of companion to one of the dullest and meanest women in Britain had fallen to her lot. Frugality was good for the soul, Mrs Cartwright was often heard to proclaim. However, it was not an ideology she embraced when it came to her own portions at dinner, Kate had noted frequently.
Mrs Cartwright moved her great bulk, making her chair creak. “You know, Miss Hamilton, I have been thinking I would like to have my family around me at Christmas this year.”
“I’m sure that would be most agreeable,” Kate said, automatically.
“Yes, and of course it will involve a great deal of planning.”
Kate was suddenly alert; she didn’t like where this was heading.
“With my ill health, it cannot be expected that I would organise such an event. I will be relying heavily on you.”
“But Mrs Cartwright, I will not be here, if you recall. I travel to Malton for my sister’s wedding at the end of the week.”
Mrs Cartwright’s colour started to rise. “Well, you will have to change your plans. You cannot possibly go if I need you here. Your loyalty is misplaced, I am sorry to say.”
Not for the first time, the woman’s capriciousness left her momentarily speechless. Goodness knows, the woman was not renowned for her generosity of spirit, but this was deliberately cruel.
“My sister will be so upset, Mrs Cartwright, for I am to be her bridesmaid,” Kate said, hoping to penetrate the stone-like organ posing as a heart in her employer’s enormous bosom.
“Poppycock! Anyone can be a bridesmaid. I am hurt, Miss Hamilton. I did not expect such ingratitude from you. Do you not realise how lucky you are to be employed in this house? My friends are forever telling me what a kind and generous employer I am.” This was a favourite theme of Mrs Cartwright’s and she went on for the best part of ten minutes exploring it.
Kate surrendered to defeat. This was an argument she could never win, but the prospect of spending Christmas away from home and missing the wedding was almost too much to bear. And all for the vanity of a woman who was universally disliked. Since her arrival in the house five months before, only one member of the lady’s family had shown up and he had been a lecherous old goat who had tried to pin Kate up against the wall as they passed on the stairs.
Grab your copy of
Christmas at Malton Manor
HERE!



Pam Lecky
Pam Lecky is an Irish historical fiction author, writing crime, mystery, romance and the supernatural. She is a member of the Historical Novel Society and the Society of Authors and has a particular love of the late Victorian era/early 20thCentury. Her debut novel, The Bowes Inheritance, was awarded the B.R.A.G Medallion; shortlisted for the Carousel Aware Prize 2016; and long-listed for the Historical Novel Society 2016 Indie Award. Her short stories are available in an anthology, entitled Past Imperfect, which was published in April 2018. She is currently working on a Victorian mystery series. Pam is represented by the Hardman & Swainson Literary Agency in London.
Connect with Pam: Amazon FacebookTwitterwww.pamlecky.com­­Goodreads 

#bookreview ~ The Complete King Arthur: Many Faces, One Hero #Arthurian

The Complete King Arthur:
Many Faces, One Hero
ByJohn Matthews & Caitlín Matthews



A comprehensive examination of the historical and mythological evidence for every major theory about King Arthur
• Explores the history of every Arthur candidate and the geographical arguments that have placed him in different locations

• Examines 1,800 years of evidence for Arthur’s life and the famous series of 12 battles fought against the Saxons in the 6th century

• Reconstructs the history of the 6th century in Britain, when the first references to Arthur and the core events of his reign appear

Few legends have had the enduring influence of those surrounding King Arthur. Many believe the stories are based on historical truth. For others Arthur represents the archetype of the brilliant monarch reigning over a fairy-tale kingdom, offering his knights the opportunity to prove their mettle in battle and find gnostic illumination through initiation into sacred mysteries like that of the Grail.

Presenting the culmination of more than 40 years’ research, John and Caitlín Matthews examine the historical and mythological evidence for every major theory about the existence of King Arthur. Drawing on modern techniques in archaeology and scholarship, they reconstruct the history of the 6th century in Britain, the period when the first unambiguous references to Arthur appear. They explore the history of every Arthur candidate, the geographical arguments that have placed him in different locations, and the evidence for his life and famous battles fought against the Saxons. Was the greatest British hero of all time not a king but a 2nd-century Roman officer active around Hadrian’s Wall in Cumbria? A 5th-century soldier who operated in areas as far apart as Cornwall, Wales, Scotland, or Brittany? Or an entirely mythical fiction that provided a figure of light during a dark period of British history?

Examining other literary figures from the 5th century such as Vortigern and Ambrosius, the authors also break down the plots of all the major Arthurian romances, including those by Chretien de Troyes, Sir Thomas Malory, and Robert de Boron, to reveal the historical events they are based on. Piecing together the many fragments that constitute the image of Arthur, both the man and the myth, the authors show how each face of Arthur has something to offer and how his modern popularity proves the enduring power of the hero-myth, truly earning Arthur the title he first received in the 15th century: The Once and Future King.




The Complete King Arthur: Many Faces, One Hero, is a comprehensive look at the many different persona’s of King Arthur. I have read many books from notable scholars on the subject of Arthur, so I was looking forward to seeing what John Matthews and Caitlín Matthews had to say for themselves. I was hoping for something fresh and easy to read, I got that.
The authors do not claim to have found Arthur, this isn’t that type of book, although I got the impression the authors were leaning towards the Roman Centurion, Artorius Castus, as a probable candidate!
This book covers a vast period, from Roman occupation of Britain, to now, which is a long period of history to cover, but I have to commend John Matthews and Caitlín Matthews, for they did it remarkably well.This book looks at how Arthur has changed through the ages and how he has been used, to some extent, for political purposes. It also shows us how Arthur ‘the man’ was turned into Arthur ‘the legend’ and how the ancient texts were possibly misinterpreted. So as with anything to do with Arthur you expect to look at the works of Gildas, Nennius, Bede, etc... which this book does, and John Matthews and Caitlín Matthews have come up with some really interesting thesis as they interpret what they think this writing is, and isn’t, telling us. The authors arguments are very compelling, and I have to admit I had this book in one hand, and the rest of my vast Arthurian collection spread out before me while I cross-referenced. And for the most part, I found myself agreeing with what John Matthews and Caitlín Matthews have so elegantly put forward as an argument. Their interpretation makes sense.
This book spends a long time looking at Nennius’s 12 famous battles and how these "battles" have been interpreted / miss-interpreted over time, and, more importantly, what they say about the political landscape that they are set in. I thought the authors were right to dedicate this amount of time to these battles and for those new to Arthurian Legend this would be enlightening.
The book takes us on a journey and show us how Arthur changed over time from a soldier to a king, and it pays particular attention to the great poets, who of course, were responsible for this change. There is a fascinating chapter on Geoffrey of Monmouth, who is the founding father of the somewhat fictitious Arthur that we would recognise today. The authors look in great detail at Monmouth’s life and where he got his facts from - that missing ancient manuscript raises its head again - and more importantly, they look at why Monmouth wrote it in the first place.
The authors show the two sides of Arthur — the Christian King, and the spoilt, arrogant, almost evil Arthur that he was sometimes portrayed as. The book looks at principle players in Arthurian Legend as well - Kay, Mordred, Bedivere, Gawain, and Lancelot, as well as Arthur's Queen, all get a mention and as with Arthur, the authors demonstrate where the 'historical' characters came from, and which ones have a rather fictitious beginning!

I thought this book was very well thought out, there are lots of amazing images,a very useful timeline, maps, and everything is chronicled in order, so you reallydo need to start at the beginning as there is a lot of references to earlier chapters. This is a book that is suitable for those who are just starting out on theirArthurian journey, as well as those that are well on their way into their research.This is a book that I am going to come back to again. It is a welcomed additionto my shelf.

I Highly Recommend.



Amazon US • Amazon UK •   B&N

Christmas in the Rome of Commodus, by Simon Turney #Christmas #AncientRome #RomanEmpire @SJATurney

Christmas in the Rome of Commodus.By Simon Turney

For the Romans it is the year of the consuls Aurelius and Sura. For those raised in the burgeoning Christian faith, it is one hundred and ninety anno domini. We are in Rome, the centre of the world, and it is late at night on the 24th of December.
Commodus
Claudia is a Christian. Her father died 2 years ago, but he had been a centurion in the army and his pension allowed Claudia’s mum to start a weaving business, including a small workshop on the Little Aventine and two slaves to help her work. Claudia sometimes gets confused about that because she’s sure that her heroes in the stories the Christian priest tells were slaves and that her faith is against it, yet slaves are everywhere and her mum is still comfortable ordering slaves to help her. Mind you, the slaves still have a better life than people who are just free and broke. At least they are clothed and fed. And for several days over this season her mother has let them out into the city with a few coins to enjoy themselves. Mind you, they’re not Christians. She’s probably best off not knowing how they’re spending it.The two ladies pass through the atrium and pause in the vestibule of their house, where the majority of Romans have their shrine to the household gods.
Roman Shrine
Here, Claudia’s mother has a small altar to God the Father and the risen Christ, carved with the fish symbol and sporting an expensive tallow candle. Claudia doesn’t remember the times of persecutions – the times of Nero burning Christians, or Trajan and Marcus Aurelius disenfranchising them. The glorious golden emperor Commodus is on the throne, and for the first time in nearly two centuries, Christians are accepted enough that they feel free to openly announce their faith without fear of spite and suspicion. After all, it is said that the emperor’s mistress herself is a Christian. Claudia and her Mother are setting out to go to a service held by a deacon on the Esquiline hill. Father Josephus will celebrate the birth of the Saviour not in their temple but in the public park behind it, large enough to accommodate the entire congregation. Nero burning Christians.
Claudia and her mother leave their house and start to move through the city. There has been a resurgence of the Antonine plague in recent months and the streets are not a good place. Given the failure of grain shipments and the increasing hunger of the city, walking through Rome is not a comfortable experience. Her mother has armed both slaves with short ash sticks and they escort the pair of them through the city, keeping them safe from harm. Claudia’s mother prays regularly for the city’s deliverance from the plague. Claudia is disappointed that it doesn’t seem to be working.Despite the sickness, political unrest and general danger of the streets, Rome is still truly alive at this time of year. Mere days ago was the pagan festival of Saturnalia with its parades and games, drinking and feasting, and with the red-painted Lord of Misrule released into the streets to cause chaos. Saturnalia lasted almost a week, and had to run concurrently with the Larentalia when the pagan Roman households worshipped the spirits that look after the houses. Saturnalia.
Now, however, on the twenty fourth and twenty-fifth of the month, there are only two celebrations held. One is the grand birthday of Sol Invictus, the unconquered sun. Sol is identified with the emperors. He is a god you have to bow to no matter what you believe. The unconquered sun is powerful in Rome. Soooo much more powerful than Christianity. The other celebration is one of the argued birthdays of Jesus, remembered by certain of his small congregations throughout the empire. And this is quite important. At the moment every other priest is advocating a different date for  Jesus’ birth. The 25th of December as a standard is more than a century away yet. Many Christians still celebrate Jesus’ birth on the Jewish Passover, but Father Josephus on the Esquiline advocates the twenty fifth of December even if Claudia’s mother thinks that’s largely to pull his flock away from celebrating Sol Invictus.
Sol Invictus/
Claudia feels nervous as the door clicks shut behind them. They start to move through the streets. She cannot help but think how alone they are. Christians count for less than one person in a hundred in Rome. In fact, probably less than one in a thousand. And the rest of these people are celebrating Sol. Even at this time of night, Claudia can hear the races in the Circus Maximus. Men in four-horse chariots race others in two-horse ones, the former representing Sol, the latter the moon goddess Luna. Claudia is a little disappointed, really. She believes in the Christ and his birth on this day, but her celebrations this night will be sombre and small-scale, while those who worship Sol get to watch chariot races into the night and laugh and party until the dawn.All the way across the city, Claudia feels pity for those she sees in pain and hopelessness, and tries not to feel envy for those celebrating wildly. The streets are filled with festive gaiety and tragic death in equal amounts. Here a man is spilling out of a tavern door, drunk and laughing at some joke in which the punchline is ‘the sun gets everywhere, especially when you’re naked.’ He is buying drinks for all courtesy of a bet in which the sun’s chariot beat the moon’s in the circus just after midday. That was ten hours ago and he’s still celebrating. But in an alleyway across the street, a man coughs his last, wracked with pain. A year ago that man was serving as an excused-duty senior legionary in a fort on the Parthian frontier. Now here he is, hours from death. He coughs up blood and stares into the filthy cloth. The dead-carriers with their wagons of corpses both rich and poor will be here for him at sunup. A rare sight greets the two women three streets further on: a physician with a bundle of herbs and flowers slung beneath his nose to ward off poisonous fumes. His table of medications groans under the weight of the coins he has made as the plague-ridden queue for his help even of a cold and dark evening.After a tense walk and only two reluctant clubbings by the twin slaves – one of a would-be thief and the other a simply desperate sufferer of the plague – they arrive at the congregation’s temple on the Esquiline. Rome’s old gods, Sol Invictus included, have grand edifices funded by the purses of great public figures. They have temples with colonnades and platforms, some even with their own staff to wipe off graffiti and keep water handy in case of fire. These temples are stained with the blood of many thousands of animals sacrificed in the deity’s name. These temples are heretical, but glorious.
Roman Temple.
The temple of Christ that Claudia and her mother attend is a converted fish shop. Despite nearly a decade now of reuse, it still smells faintly of fish guts.  The accoutrements inside are not rich like some other gods’ temples. The worshippers of Christ  do not receive any state funds. The place is bare and poorly-lit with oil lamps, but the worshippers have spent years painting on the walls. Images of the risen Christ and scenes from his life live on in glorious colour. And the altar is maintained with a cloth and a cross by the priest. Poor fare compared with the gilded bronze and marble statues of the old pagan gods.

But no one complains. They’ve not complained for a hundred years. Emperors have come and gone  who would either actively target Christians or would ignore their plight and let them suffer at the hands of the common man. But they are gone, and Commodus reigns. For the first time Christians meet in the open without the fear of derision. And that is where they are tonight: not in that small, constricted chapel that smells of mackerel, but in the park behind it.Thirty four people are there when Claudia and her mother arrive. It’s paltry. But that’s the problem. There are maybe twenty thousand Christians in this city. But many of them celebrate this festival either at Passover or on dates like the sixth of Januarius. Those that do advocate the twenty fifth are still largely absent. They either worry about Roman authorities and statutes against public gatherings or, more likely, they were willing to be less pious in order to watch the pagan chariot races.‘One day,’ Claudia’s mother mutters, ‘and soon, this will be a date to change the world.’As the priest begins his lessons and benedictions in a droning monotone, Claudia nods. She believes in the Risen Christ, but there are so few who do, and the pagans seem to have so much more fun with their gods. She lowers her face to hide her smile. She will never renounce her faith, but when she comes of age she’s marrying a pagan with a military record and watching the damned chariot races anyway.Welcome to Christmas in the Rome of Commodus.

Season’s greetings to you all.

(The Damned Emperors)

Welcome to a fracturing Roman empire in the second century AD: ravaged by plague and with wars rumbling on along all frontiers. One man tries to hold everything together but, beset by personal tragedy from a young age, who is holding him together?
You've heard the stories: the crazy emperor who thought he was Hercules and fought in the Colosseum as a gladiator. But is 'crazy' too easy a label? Could there have been method behind the perceived madness?
Released 18th April 2019Pre-order today…Amazon UK • Amazon US



Simon Turney

A born and bred Yorkshireman with a love of country, history and architecture, Simon spends most of his rare free time travelling around ancient sites, writing, researching the ancient world and reading voraciously.
Following an arcane and eclectic career path that wound through everything from sheep to Microsoft networks and from paint to car sales, Simon wrote Marius' Mules. Now, with in excess of twenty novels under his belt, Simon writes full time. He lives with his wife and children and a menagerie of animals in rural North Yorkshire.

Find Simon: Website • Blog • Facebook • Twitter.

#BookReview — Shadow of the Raven: Sons of Kings: Sons of Kings #1 By Millie Thom #HistoricalFiction #Vikings #AngloSaxon @MillieThom

Shadow of the RavenSons of Kings: Sons of Kings #1By Millie Thom

Thunder claps roar and Odin’s ravens fly. Dragonships set sail – and the kingdoms of Western Europe hold their breath. Warriors of Thor are on the move. 
By the mid ninth century, Danish raids on Anglo-Saxon kingdoms have escalated. Several bands even dare to overwinter on the coastal islands, particularly those at the mouth of the Thames, where the kingdoms of Wessex and Mercia border each other. 
The kings of these lands must put past enmity aside and take the first steps towards unity; steps they see as vital in the face of this newfound threat to their lands . . . 
Alfred of Wessex and Eadwulf of Mercia are the sons of kings, whose futures have been determined since birth. But the turbulent events in their childhood years change the natural progression of things – and shape the characters of the men they will become. Their roads to manhood follow vastly different routes, but both learn crucial lessons along the way: lessons that will serve them well in future years. 
Discovering that they enemy is not always a stranger is a harsh lesson indeed; the realisation that a trusted kinsman can turn traitor is the harshest lesson of all. 
The story takes us from the kingdoms of Mercia and Wessex to the Norse lands stretching north from Denmark to the Arctic Circle and east to the Baltic Sea. We glimpse the Court of Charles the Bald of West Francia and journey to the holy city of Rome. Through it all, the two boys move ever closer to their destinies.

The dead cannot talk, but the living remember…
The Danes were coming. Beorhtwulf, the King of Mercia, knew about the Danish threat and he had made preparations. But what he had not been prepared for was his brother’s gross betrayal.
Eadwulf of Mercia was just a child when his uncle betrayed his father. Now he finds himself in a Norse slave market, waiting to be sold. Eadwulf has two choices. He can let his grief and his circumstances destroy him, or he can grow stronger because of it.
Alfred of Wessex is the youngest son of the great King Aethelwulf. He is a long way from the throne, but Aethelwulf can see that his youngest son has a gift and there is no doubt that Alfred is favoured by God. Only time will tell what God has intended for Alfred.
From the coldness of a Mercia winter morning to the horror of the slave market in Hedeby, Shadow of the Raven: Sons of Kings Book #1 by Millie Thom is the story of two boys, whose lives are irrevocably changed by events that were out of their control.
Thom has brought us not only a wonderfully compelling story but also one that has been so obviously painstakingly researched. The richness of the narrative and the exquisite attention to detail draws the reader into the mid-9th Century world that Thom has created. This story is so vivid in the telling that it was like watching the images flicker in front of my eyes. I could feel the coldness of the snow against my skin, the rocking of the boat as it sailed across the ocean towards a destination unknown. I could see the gilded buildings in Rome just as well as I could envisage the Hall of Ragnar Lothbrok and the Court of Charles the Bald. However, more importantly, I felt Eadwulf’s despair, his anger and his hate, but also his hope. Thom has a gift for bringing not only a time gone by but also the people who lived there, back to life.
There is a large cast of historical characters in this book, but this story is focused primarily on the two young protagonists — Eadwulf and Alfred. Eadwulf has to grow up very quickly. However, he is the son of a king, and although he finds himself in a terrible situation, he never gives up on the dream that one day he will find his way home. He does, however, have moments of doubt. He was born a Mercian, but grew up as a Dane. Eadwulf struggles terribly with his identity. He knows who he is, he just isn’t as sure as to where he belongs. I thought Eadwulf’s portrayal was outstanding. He matures in both body and attitude as the story progresses. At the beginning of the tale he thinks like a child, but by the end of this book he is most definitely a man. Alfred, on the other hand, experiences none of the horrors that Eadwulf faces, but he too has his share of death and grief. Alfred’s childhood portrays the kind of king that he will become. He is watchful, very clever, and he shows great empathy to everyone he comes into contact with. I thought both protagonists were wonderfully drawn and more importantly believable.
In Shadows of the Raven, we meet some historical characters who many readers will be familiar with thanks to Michael Hirst’s fabulous Vikings series. Due to circumstance, Eadwulf finds himself in the domain of Ragnar Lothbrok. It is Eadwulf’s relationship with Bjorn Ironside, Ragnar’s eldest son, where Eadwulf's story really comes into its own. Bjorn may well be a secondary character in this book, but I thought he was fabulously portrayed. He is a warrior, but he is also compassionate and understanding of Eadwulf desire to be free and to avenge the people he loved.
Thom has not romanticised this era at all. The Viking raids are brutal as are some of their sacrifices. However, Shadows of a Raven is not all blood and gore. Thom has a gift for describing everyday things, such as collecting water from the river, and the beauty of falling in love. I thought this book was masterfully written and I was utterly captivated from the beginning to the end.
Shadow of a Raven is impossible to put down. Thom has created an enthrallingly epic saga. It is thoroughly enjoyable, filled with battle scenes, family politics, love, and religion — what is not to like?
I Highly Recommend.


Review by Mary Anne Yarde.


Amazon UK • Amazon US
Millie Thom
Millie Thom is a former geography and history teacher with a degree in geology and a particular passion for the Anglo-Saxon and Viking period. Originally from Lancashire she is a mother of six grown up children and now lives with her husband in a small village in Nottinghamshire, midway between the town of Newark and the lovely old city of Lincoln. When not writing, Millie enjoys long walks and is a serious fossil hunter. She is also an avid traveller, swimmer and baker of cakes!
Connect with Millie : Website • Twitter

Christmas in the time of the Vikings: Santa Odin and the Night of the Mothers, by Sarah Dahl #Vikings #Christmas @sarahdahl13

Christmas in the time of the Vikings: Santa Odin and the Night of the MothersBy Sarah Dahl
The Viking pagan religion goes back at least 1,000 years; and it shares roots with the Christian religion. The Germanic and the Anglo-Saxon as well as the Norse traditions all turned into several different customs over time only.




This merging of religions was done gently and on purpose by the Norwegian King Hákon the Good. He introduced Christian traditions by blending them with the old pagan rituals, instead of forcing Christianity onto the Vikings. And it is likely that during this transition the figure of Odin morphed into a long-bearded man called Santa Claus (the German Weihnachtsmann). He seems to be a later twin of the Allfather Odin, disguised by a silly red hat. Odin means “Jólnir”, “the Yule One” – and Yule was the Viking Christmas celebration. The ancient Scandinavian festivities were called Jól in Iceland; Jul in Norway, Sweden, and Denmark; and Yule in some English-speaking societies.
Since the early 10thcentury, the Jólablót is held on December 25, and Hákon made it a law that “everyone was to have ale for the celebration with a measure of grain, or else pay fines, and had to keep the holiday while the ale lasted” – nice, eh?
This holiday began at winter solstice and lasted until the Yule sacrifices, around the 12thof January, so three whole weeks! Personally, I’m exhausted after three days of Christmas, but that’s just me, ahem.
In the last three days that led up to the sacrifices there was drinking, feasting, games and song, topped off by sacrifices to the gods and other powers of winter. Sacrifices were vital. Winter solstice was the shortest day and marked the darkest and most dangerous point of the year: would the sun return, and with it, life? Or would the darkness win and bring death and despair?
During these three weeks, the Vikings must have anxiously waited for proof that the days indeed would again become longer and brighter – their lives depended on it. A new cycle of life could only start if the sun was victorious and rebirthed itself from the dark belly of the wolf (death) that had swallowed her.
So the Yule weeks were not at all mindless drinking and frolicking; they were a fragile, strict time with many rituals, including sacrifices.
From a Viking perspective, winter was a fierce time of death and cold, in which darkness ruled and the boundaries between the world of the living and the dead blurred. It’s not by accident that Vikings counted their age in “winters” survived. It was the time when the souls of the dead and other creatures like elves and trolls roamed the world of the living, with unclear intentions. It was of vital importance to give offerings by gifting food and drink, to placate the powers that were potentially threatening and dangerous.
Hopefully, the new year started another cycle of rejuvenation, nourishment, and renewed strength. So in this sense, Yule was the time when the Vikings celebrated the powers who gave just that: life. And who gave life and ensured new cycles?
Right, the mothers (beside other female deities).
Yule was the time of worshipping the ancestral mothers and other female powers of different realms. Because, just like the sun, females were life-givers, through birth and midwifery, similar to the power of the sun. For the Vikings, the first night of celebrations was “Mothers’ Night”: the goddess Frigga and the dísir (female ancestral spirits) were honoured. Only females could ensure the rebirth of the world from the dark grip of winter. 
But of course women helped nourishment in a very basic, practical sense, too. The feasting was only possible through countless women providing food and drink they had made days or weeks in advance. In many ways, without women – or rather: mothers! – starvation and death was just around the corner.
So even the Anglo-Saxon heathens celebrated “The Night of the Mothers”: New Year in the 7thcentury corresponds with Yule. And they were not the only ones to worship women: the continental Germanic Mother Cult did the same.
Christianity then very much diminished the female role (of the Sun goddess, Sól, the Mothers, and goddesses), and turned the once central importance of women, living and dead, into a mere side note.
So with offerings and gatherings the days of Yule slowly moved towards the hopefully successful rebirth of the sun around the 12th of January. Farmers from near and far came with food in abundance. All took part in the drinking of ale and the killing and serving of animals. Surely a sacrificial beaker was carried around the fires. The host, a chieftain, would bless the meat and toasts would be made. In King Hákon’s time those were: 1. to Odin for victory and power, 2. to the gods Njördr and Freyr for good harvests and peace, 3. to the King, and lastly to the dead kinsfolk. These were all especially serious and meaningful oaths, sworn to the cup or horn while drinking and feasting at the Yule banquet with friends, family, and the wider community from near and far. In the hope there would be a new sun, and new life.
Do you suddenly see where our New Year’s Resolutions stem from?They’re just a bloody Viking Yule Oath  ;-)
So raise your horns: Skål to Odin, the sun, and all mothers!

Happy Yule and Merry Christmas!



Sources:freya.theladyofthelabyrinth.com (excellent source for all things Viking!)Valkyria.com (a beautiful Norse lady’s blog about living the Viking life and mythology)Theasatrucommunity.orgwikipedia: Yule (all accessed on 4th Dec. 2017)

The wait is finally over...Now available in paperback!

Tales of Freya By Sarah Dahl

A collection of sensual short stories set in the Viking Age



In a world of crackling fires and rough landscapes, long winters and bloody raids, the immediacy of life and death ignites undeniable passions. Warriors and monks, healers and housewives – all follow the call of their hearts and bodies to indulge in pleasures that may forever change their lives.
In this collection of adult bedtime stories, Sarah Dahl pulls back the curtain of history to depict the erotic lives of Viking men and women. Amid the stark landscapes of fjords, forests and snowcapped mountain peaks, her characters search for love and passion. Dahl authentically illuminates the sensual side of a world of battle and plunder in an alluring collection perfect for every lover of gritty Viking romance.

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Sarah Dahl
Sarah Dahl lives on the edge of the rural German Eifel and writes historical fiction primarily set in the Viking age. She also works as an editor, translates, and coaches new writers in German and English. She is interested in everyday life in bygone centuries and the human stories that may have occurred behind the hard, historical facts.
Connect with Sarah: Website/Blog • Books • Mailing List • Facebook • Twitter • Goodreads 
Tales of Freya – sensual short stories by Sarah DahlPublication date: Dec 14, 2018A collection of seven sensual short storiesGenre: Historical fiction, sensual romance

#BookReview — Forsaking All Other By Catherine Meyrick #HistoricalRomance @cameyrick1

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Catherine Meyrick Catherine Meyrick is a writer of historical fiction with a particular love of Elizabethan England. Her stories weave fictional characters into the gaps within the historical record – tales of ordinary people who are very much men and women of their time, yet in so many ways are like us today.She grew up in regional Victoria, Australia in a family with a love both of storytelling and of history in all its forms. After moving to Melbourne in her late teens, Catherine has worked as a nurse and a tax assessor, among other things, before finally finding her niche as a librarian. She has a Master of Arts in history and is also a family history obsessive.Connect with Catherine: Website  •  Facebook  • Twitter

Christmas in early seventh century Britain, by Matthew Harffy #Christmas #DarkAges #History @MatthewHarffy

By Matthew Harffy


"Come, remove your sodden cloak and take a place on the bench. The fire is warm and there is food and drink a-plenty." The bearded man looks at you askance. "Even one who has travelled so far to be here tonight."

He ushers you towards the long bench where others are seated around the central hearth. The feast is already well underway and the men raise their cups and drinking horns to you as they slide along, making way for you to sit.

"I see from your apparel that you have come a long way to be here in our Lord King Edwin's hall at Gefrin," says the steward as you settle onto the wooden bench. "I note you have no eating knife. I will fetch you one." And with that he is gone, bustling away through the servants and thralls who attend the revellers.

Looking up, you see the rafters of the long hall are wreathed in soot and the smoke from the hearth fogs the air around the beams. Your nostrils are filled with the scent of roasting meat, ale, mead, and the sour stink of dozens of unwashed bodies. The man beside you, a sharp faced brute with a badly set broken nose and a savage-looking scar under his right eye, pushes a wooden cup into your hand. Some of the contents slosh over your fingers and onto the board before you. The man grins. There is a gap between his strong white teeth, and judging from his scarred face you imagine he might have lost the tooth in combat. You suppress a shiver of fear, but he seems friendly enough and the warmth of the hall is welcome after the driving, bitter rain outside.

"Drink!" the gap-toothed man demands.

Nervously, you sniff the liquid in the cup. It smells faintly of a plant. Heather, perhaps. You sip it and it tastes unlike anything you have drunk before. It is not unpleasant and has a slightly floral taste.

"The ale is good, is it not?" the man asks. "It is fresh," he continues, "goodwife Aelswith made it this very morn."

You drink some more, allowing the ale to refresh you, and offering the man a nod. He seems pleased.

"Here is the knife I promised you." The steward has returned and hands you a small scabbarded knife. Its handle is smooth and made from antler. "So, tell me, stranger,” the steward says, “did you travel here with the Christ followers? They have come all the way from Cantware."

He indicates a dark robed, sallow-faced man, sitting at the high table beside the richly dressed man you assume to be the lord of the hall, King Edwin of Northumbria. Before you can answer, the steward continues.

"Now I have nothing against this new religion of the Christ, and my Lord King is wise to invite the learned men from Roma into his lands. But they say that this, the shortest day of the year and the longest night, is the birth of their god, the Christ. I suppose that might be true.” He scratches at his beard for a moment, finds something in the thatch of hair and inspects it. He squeezes whatever it is between his fingernails and flicks it over the laden board and into the fire. “But for me,” he continues, “this night will always be Modraniht, Mother Night, and I will celebrate it as I always have and as my father did and my father's father did before him. See," he waves his hand towards the carcass that was being turned slowly on a spit over the fire by a sweat-streaked youth, "a boar has been sacrificed and its head and blood offered up to the gods, that the coming year will bring us fertility and prosperity. This priest man from the south, with his strangely-shaved head, can preach all he wishes about the birth of a child god, but I think Yule will always be celebrated as we do now. With good food, strong drink, and offering up thanks to our forebears and the gods. For at this, the darkest and coldest time of the year, we must make our own light and merriment and look forward to the turning of the year and the coming of the sun and warmth of summer once more. Then the land will be green and full of life and plenty." He laughs and shrugs ruefully. "Listen to me, I speak as though I were a scop, ready to tell you a tale or sing a song. But that is not my place, I am not a spinner of words. That will come later, after the eating is done. Caedmon the bard will sing then and tell-tales the like of which you have never heard. His voice is like liquid honey poured into the ears. But now I must be away. I see Hrothgar calling for more ale. Where is Odelyna?” He tuts. “I told her to take a fresh jug over there an age ago. If I find her dallying again with young Acennan, I will take a hazel switch to her hide! Enjoy the food, friend." He shakes his head, gives you a friendly pat on the shoulder and hurries away.

One of the servants, a redheaded comely girl with skin as pale as lamb’s wool and eyes the green of a summer orchard, places a trencher of freshly sliced meat onto the board. Unsheathing the small knife, you take your lead from the others sitting around you and skewer a piece of meat. Chewing the succulent flesh, you look about contentedly, allowing the merriment of those gathered in the fug-filled mead hall to wash over you. The dark-garbed priest at the high table catches your gaze and inclines his head, as though he recognises a kindred spirit. You raise your cup to him and drink deeply of the ale that had tasted so foreign only moments before. Now, you savour the brew as you wash down the boar meat.

You look the length of the hall, taking in the throng of revellers, the raucous laughter. The heat from the fire and the redolence of the hearty food is comforting. You lean back, feeling the tension easing from your shoulders and you ponder the steward's words.

Much will change over the centuries, you muse. Until one day, this draughty timber hall is just a distant memory, veiled in an almost forgotten past. In these northern lands, raiders and invaders will come and go, kings will be born, rise to power and then go the way of all things.

And yet there will be a constant through the ages. When the year is at the wane and the longest night is come, then, whether it is known as Yule, Modraniht or Christmas, the people of this island will eat, drink and spend time with their loved ones, looking back at the year behind them and gazing forward to warmer, brighter times ahead.

Matthew Harffy is the author of the Bernicia Chronicles series of novels set in seventh century Britain. The fourth in the series, KILLER OF KINGS, is out in hardback on 13th December. Just in time for Christmas!


Killer of Kings (Book four of the Bernicia Chronicles)


AD 636. Anglo-Saxon Britain. A gripping, action-packed historical thriller and the fourth instalment in The Bernicia Chronicles. Perfect for fans of Bernard Cornwell.
Beobrand has land, men and riches. He should be content. And yet he cannot find peace until his enemies are food for the ravens. But before Beobrand can embark on his bloodfeud, King Oswald orders him southward, to escort holy men bearing sacred relics.
When Penda of Mercia marches a warhost into the southern kingdoms, Beobrand and his men are thrown into the midst of the conflict. Beobrand soon finds himself fighting for his life and his honour.
In the chaos that grips the south, dark secrets are exposed, bringing into question much that Beobrand had believed true. Can he unearth the answers and exact the vengeance he craves? Or will the blood-price prove too high, even for a warrior of his battle-fame and skill?
Catch up with The Bernicia Chronicles today!




The Serpent SwordCross And CurseBlood And BladeKiller Of KingsWarrior Of WodenStorm of Steel

Matthew Harffy
Matthew Harffy lived in Northumberland as a child and the area had a great impact on him. The rugged terrain, ruined castles and rocky coastline made it easy to imagine the past. Decades later, a documentary about Northumbria's Golden Age sowed the kernel of an idea for a series of historical fiction novels. The first of them is the action-packed tale of vengeance and coming of age, THE SERPENT SWORD.
Matthew has worked in the IT industry, where he spent all day writing and editing, just not the words that most interested him. Prior to that he worked in Spain as an English teacher and translator. Matthew now writes full-time in Wiltshire, England, where he lives with his wife and their two daughters.
Connect with Matthew: Website• Facebook • Twitter

#BookReview — Honour the Dead by John Anthony Miller #Historical #Thriller @authorjamiller

Honour the DeadBy John Anthony Miller


Six English survivors of the Great War – four men and two women – converge on Lake Como, Italy in 1921. The result: one corpse and one killer... 

Psychiatrist Joseph Barnett is treating wealthy socialite Penelope Jones for schizophrenia at a sanitarium in Como. She is convinced someone is trying to kill her.

Penelope is married to war veteran Alexander Cavendish, hero of the Battle of the Somme. Barnett knows – and hates – Cavendish from the trenches where both were officers during the battle: one was trying to save lives, the other take them.

Both men had been wounded and treated at a hospital in Amiens where Bartlett met and later married Rose who worked there as a nurse. But why does Rose also harbour an intense animosity towards Cavendish?

John Anthony Miller’s fifth crime novel Honour the Dead is a Rubik’s Cube of a murder case. Everyone is a suspect, there are motives to spare – readers will go dizzy trying to solve it...





“Honour the dead, rejoice with the living…”
Psychiatrist, Joseph Barnett, has heard that phrase more times than he cares to remember. He returned from the Great War, a broken man. He had seen things he wished no man would ever have to see. His broken body is nothing compared to the nightmares that keep him up at night and interrupt his daytime. However, he is determined to overcome the horrors and help the lost souls at his sanitarium in Como find themselves again.
The last thing he expects is to have the wife of the man who haunts his every waking moment and tortures his night, committed to his sanitarium. Penelope Jones has, on the face of it, everything anyone would ever want. She is successful, wealthy and the celebrated wife of a war hero. So what on earth possessed her to attempt suicide? And why does she insist that it was not attempted suicide, but attempted murder?
Drawn into a tangled web of deceit, Joseph has to confront his own demons while trying to determine the truth before it is too late.
Honour the Dead by John Anthony Miller is a fast-paced historical thriller that will keep you on the edge of your seat and leave you asking — who is the killer?
The sanitarium in Como is the epitome of peace. It is far away from the horrors of the Battle of the Somme. Nevertheless, Miller provides a gripping account of those horrifying 141 days in northern France through cleverly and skilfully written flashbacks. Joseph is a character that I sympathised with greatly, he is a kind and gentle man who has been to Hell and witnessed the most harrowing of incidents. When Joseph suffers these terrible flashbacks, he is once again a dazed and confused young man who cannot make sense of what he is seeing. The fear, the taste of death is particularly harrowing. Miller writes these scenes with compassion but also integrity. They were very real in the telling, which made them all the more distressing.

Joseph is haunted by the actions of one sadistic British officer, who sent young men to their death again and again, more times than not with a gun pointed at their backs. Honour the dead, is a phrase that Joseph and indeed I felt makes a mockery of their pointless deaths, as these men did not die with honour, how could they when they were being sent to their slaughter? Como is as much a refuge for Joseph as it is for his patients. It is here that he can heal, and I really hoped that he would. It was a pleasure to learn more about him, and I certainly enjoyed the emotional and incredible personal journey that he takes on the long road to peace, — if such a thing even exists after witnessing so much butchery.
Miller has a keen eye for historical detail, and he shows much sensitivity and understanding of mental health issues. Miller is careful to keep the understanding of these issues in the historical context of the time this book is set in. The knowledge of schizophrenia was very much in its infancy, so there are these exciting new theories in this story, and for me, it was interesting how quickly these theories were becoming a diagnosis. 
There are five suspects in this book, each with their own fascinating story to tell. I am not going to give away the plot, but they all have a motive for murder. I found myself becoming an amateur detective as I tried to put the pieces together, which made this story wonderfully engaging. When I thought I had everyone figured out, and when I thought I knew who the killer was, Miller would throw another curveball and I would have to change my mind and read on to find out if I was right.
Miller writes with incredible energy, and this book is vastly entertaining. Honour the Dead is utterly compelling from start to finish. If you enjoy a good murder mystery with a fabulous historical backdrop, then this book is for you.
I Highly Recommend.
Review by Mary Anne Yarde.The Coffee Pot Book Club.




John Anthony Miller


Motivated by a life-long love of travel and history, John Anthony Miller's books are normally set in exotic locations during eras of global conflict. Characters must cope and combat, overcoming their own weaknesses as well as the catastrophes spawned by tumultuous times. He's the author of To Parts Unknown, When Darkness Comes, In Satan's Shadow, and All the King's Soldiers. He lives in southern New Jersey with his family.

Find out more about John and his books: Website • Amazon • Goodreads • Twitter.

#BookReview — The Beaufort Woman (Beaufort Chronicles #2) by Judith Arnopp #HistoricalFiction #Tudors @JudithArnopp

The Beaufort Woman (Beaufort Chronicles #2)
By Judith Arnopp

Margaret Beaufort's story continues in
The Beaufort Woman 
As the struggle between York and Lancaster continues, Margaret Beaufort fights for admittance to the court of the victorious Edward IV of York and his unpopular queen, Elizabeth Woodville.
The old king and his heir are dead, leaving only Margaret’s son, the exiled Henry Tudor, with a tenuous claim to the throne. The royal nursery is full, with two small princes securing York’s continuing rule.
But Edward and Elizabeth’s magnificent court hides a dark secret, a deception that threatens the security of the English throne … and all who lust after it. 
In 1483, with the untimely death of the King, Margaret finds herself at the heart of chain of events that threaten the supremacy of York, and will change England forever.

The Beaufort Woman: One woman’s selfless struggle for the rights of her son.




“Some would say that life itself is a battle, and the rules apply equally. One must know one’s friend…and one’s enemies, of course…”
There seems to be no end in sight to the suffering and misery brought about by the Cousins’ War. The country is divided. But who will win the ultimate prize? Who will sit on the throne of England? Will it be a son from the House of Lancaster or a son from the House of York?
Married at 12, widowed at 13, Lady Margaret Beaufort is now the wife of Sir Henry Stafford. Margaret had not expected to find love again, but Henry’s gentle ways and intelligent wit make for a good husband and a contented household. If only he were not called so often to war. Henry has not the constitution for the battlefield and Margaret fears greatly for his health. She also desperately misses her beloved and only son, Henry. As soon as this war is over, Margaret is determined to leave for Pembrokeshire, for that is where her son lives with his uncle and guardian, Jasper Tudor.
However, fate is a fickle friend at the best of times, and it is certainly no friend of Margaret’s.
The Battle of Tewkesbury changes everything. Having lost his wits, his two kingdom and his son,[1] the Lancastrian King, Henry VI, dies in the Tower. There is only one other legitimate heir to Henry’s throne. Unfortunately for Margaret, the heir is her son. But, Henry is only a child, what threat could he possibly be to the recently crowned son of York, Edward IV?
Well, Judith Arnopp has done it again. History has come gloriously back to life in The Beaufort Woman (Beaufort Chronicles #2).
The Beaufort Woman follows the fortunes and misfortunes of Lady Margaret Beaufort as she navigates the dangerous, yet also rewarding, court of Edward IV and Richard III. This is a wonderfully vibrant retelling of the history of this period. It is told through the narrative of Lady Margaret, which makes this a very personal and intimate reciting.
In recent years Lady Margaret’s reputation has been somewhat tarnished. I have read several historical fiction stories of her life, and Margaret always came across as a cold, manipulative, ambitious, God-fearing woman who has no compassion for anyone other than herself and her son. This depiction never sat very well with me. It is as if Margaret has taken the place of what was once reserved for Richard III. Margaret is now the antagonist in this sordid tale of kingship and power. Thank goodness Arnopp did not follow the trend. Arnopp has presented Margaret as a loving wife, a caring mother, and a loyal friend. Her forced separation from Henry is utterly heartbreaking. Margaret, as any mother would, wants to be with her son more than anything else. She wants to see him grow up. She wants to know all the things that a mother should know about her child. The last thing to cross Margaret’s mind is that one day Henry might be crowned King… Well, perhaps it did cross her mind once or twice!

Make no mistake, this story isn’t just about a mother‘s longing for her child. It is very much a story about England and the principal players of this time. They are all within the pages of this remarkable book. Some are villains and some are not, but all have their own story to tell. Arnopp has presented a sublime account of Edward’s court, as well as the uncertainty which followed his death, and the subsequent court of Richard III. This is a richly drawn novel. The historical figures walk off the page for the readers’ enjoyment.

I adored the characterisation of Sir Henry Stafford. He is a loving husband who was taken too soon. However, Arnopp’s interpretation of Sir Thomas Stanley was magnificent. Like Margaret’s initial reaction, I didn’t want to like him, but as the story progressed, I felt my initial resistance to him thawing. He was fabulously portrayed. This is one of the things that I love so much about this series, the characters are so real in the telling that they provoke strong reactions. I found myself putting on Margaret’s shoes, so to speak, and asking myself, would I have done anything differently if I were her during this period in history?

I enjoyed the portrayal of the relationship between Margaret and Elizabeth Woodville— Edward’s Queen. Their friendship is a little complicated to begin with, but there is no doubt in Arnopp‘s interpretation that the two of them are fond of each other, and there is certainly no malice there. I think this is a much more realistic interpretation of their relationship. As was Arnopp’s interpretation of Margaret’s relationship with Anne Neville, Richard’s Queen.

Arnopp has that rare skill of being able to make even the mundane exciting and compelling; an example of this is when Margaret finds herself under house arrest for plotting against King Richard. I could feel her initial relief at Richard’s leniency in sentencing her, and then later, I could understand her frustration and boredom at being so cut off from the life at Court.

Arnopp writes with great elegance and authority. This is one of those stories where reading one more chapter before you close the book is not satisfying enough. Once began, you don’t want any interruptions. This is most definitely a sit-down-and-finish book. The Beaufort Woman (Beaufort Chronicles #2) is, without a doubt, one of the best books I have ever read set in this period of history. It is so good. I want to shout about it from the rooftops.
I Highly Recommend. 
Review by Mary Anne YardeThe Coffee Pot Book Club Book Award.

[1]Cheetham, A. Fraser, A (editor) — The Wars of the Roses (University of California Press, 2000)


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