Linnea Tanner's Blog, page 34
June 14, 2021
Tim Walker Guardians at the Wall Coffee Pot Book Club Blog Tour #HistoricalFiction #HadriansWall #BlogTour #CoffeePotBookClub @timwalker1666 @maryanneyarde
It is my pleasure to feature Tim Walker as part of The Coffee Pot Book Club Blog Tour being held from June 14th – June 18th, 2021. Tim Walker is the author of the historical dual timeline (Contemporary/Roman), Guardians at the Wall, which was released by the author on June 1st, 2021 (310 pages).
Below are highlights of Guardians at the Wall, Tim Walker’s author bio, and an excerpt from his book.
HIGHLIGHTS: GUARDIANS AT THE WALL
Guardians at the Wall
By Tim Walker
Archaeology student Noah scrapes the soil near Hadrian’s Wall, once a barrier that divided Roman Britannia from wild Caledonian tribes, in the hope of uncovering an ancient artefact around which he can build a project-defining story.
He makes an intriguing find but hasn’t anticipated the distraction of becoming the object of desire in a developing love triangle in the isolated academic community at Vindolanda. He’s living his best life but must learn to prioritise in a race against time to solve an astounding 2,000-year-old riddle, and an artefact theft, as he comes to realise his future career prospects depend on it.
In the same place, almost 2,000 years earlier, Centurion Gaius Atticianus, hungover and unaware of the bloody conflicts that will soon challenge him, is rattled by the hoot of an owl, a bad omen.
These are the protagonists whose lives will brush together in the alternating strands of this dual timeline historical novel, one commencing his journey and trying to get noticed, the other trying to stay intact as he approaches retirement.
How will the breathless battles fought by a Roman officer influence the fortunes of a twenty-first century archaeology mud rat? Can naive Noah, distracted by the attentions of two very different women, navigate his way to a winning presentation?
Find out in Tim Walker’s thrilling historical dual timeline novel, Guardians at the Wall.
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AUTHOR BIO: TIM WALKER
Tim Walker is an independent author living near Windsor in the UK. He grew up in Liverpool where he began his working life as a trainee reporter on a local newspaper. After studying for a degree in Communication studies he moved to London where he worked in the newspaper publishing industry for ten years before relocating to Zambia where, following a period of voluntary work with VSO, he set up his own marketing and publishing business. He returned to the UK in 2009.
His creative writing journey began in earnest in 2013, as a therapeutic activity whilst recovering from cancer treatment. He began writing a historical fiction series, A Light in the Dark Ages, in 2014, inspired by a visit to the part-excavated site of a former Roman town. The series connects the end of Roman Britain to elements of the Arthurian legend and is inspired by historical source material, presenting an imagined history of Britain in the fifth and early sixth centuries.
The last book in the series, Arthur, Rex Brittonum, was published in June 2020. This is a re-imagining of the story of King Arthur and follows on from 2019’s Arthur Dux Bellorum. Both titles are Coffee Pot Book Club recommended reads. The series starts with Abandoned (second edition, 2018); followed by Ambrosius: Last of the Romans (2017); and book three, Uther’s Destiny (2018). Series book covers are designed by Canadian graphic artist, Cathy Walker.
Tim has also written three books of short stories, Thames Valley Tales (2015), Postcards from London (2017) and Perverse (2020); a dystopian thriller, Devil Gate Dawn (2016); and three children’s books, co-authored with his daughter, Cathy – The Adventures of Charly Holmes (2017), Charly & the Superheroes (2018) and Charly in Space (2020).
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Extract 4 – Let the exploratory excavation commence!
[From the POV of student archaeologist, Noah Jessop]
The following Saturday, we were in the car park loading Mike Stone’s Land Rover with shovels, hessian sacks, sample bags, trowels, sieves, a metal detector and a ground-penetrating radar device that Richard had signed out for the weekend. I had identified the current owner of the farmhouse, Mrs Betty Hardcastle, a retired widow, and I’d spoken to her on the phone, introducing myself as an archaeology student who was interested in identifying sites of old Roman graveyards.
It had piqued her interest when I said I had a hunch that there might be a family graveyard plot in the corner of her house enclosure. She’d replied that she was a member of the Corbridge History Society, and was interested in the prospect of finding historical remains on her land. I had played it down, saying that I would like to come over one Saturday with a couple of friends to have a look around. She had agreed, and proposed that we come over right away, on the forthcoming Saturday.
“What did Professor Wilde say to you, Richard?” Dave asked, placing a cool box of sandwiches and drinks in the back.
Richard carefully stored the last of the equipment in and shut the rear door. “She gave me a copy of the trust’s dig rules and told me not to disturb or remove any artefacts we may uncover. We’re only to photograph and record them, then come back and fetch Mike Stone.”
I groaned at the thought of having to stop if we found anything of interest. I held the passenger door open for Dave. Only three could squeeze into the cab, so Russ had agreed to stay behind.
“Well, I guess she could take the credit if we found anything,” Dave said as he wedged himself in the centre seat by the gear stick.
The drive time to Hardcastle Farm was only thirty minutes, and the electric gate opened for us after I waved at a CCTV camera. We rattled across a cattle grid onto the one-hundred-yard straight drive to the manor house, passing two dozen shaggy-coated Highland cattle and as many sheep chewing the thick, coarse moorland grass. Away to our left I saw the boundary fence and the buildings of the Corbridge Museum between trees, owned by the English Heritage Trust.
“To think that Gaius must have been so near and yet somehow thwarted from reaching Coria,” I said as we waited for a second set of electric gates to swing open. Our approach had been tracked on a moving CCTV camera. The main house, front garden, barn and outhouses were all enclosed by an electric fence.
Richard parked next to a newer, but similar, Land Rover on the gravel driveway. “Let’s hope this is the right place.”
We got out to the barks of two large smooth-coated hounds with floppy ears, and the approach of our host, a stout, grey-haired woman in cream Aran jumper and corduroy trousers tucked into green gumboots. It was practically a uniform around here, and we were similarly attired.
“Good morning and welcome to Hardcastle Farm,” she said.
“Hi, Mrs Hardcastle.” I held out my hand. “I’m Noah. Thanks for inviting us to have a look around.”
“Not at all, and please call me Betty.” She gave me a firm hand shake. I could see from her ruddy cheeks and frame that she was an outdoors person, no doubt a keen hiker and dog walker on the Northumberland hills that rose from the river valley in which her property sat. “I’m so pleased you called. I’ll take you to the overgrown corner which I think would be a good place to start. There’s a pile of stones that may have been used as grave markers. I’ve put a couple of rakes over there. If you wouldn’t mind clearing away the leaf mulch and twigs for me and tidying up, I’d be grateful.”
She led the way across an expanse of mown lawn towards the corner of the enclosed area, past a stone border and hedgerow that marked the edge of the garden, and onto a rough track that led into an area of low-hanging trees and bushes. There was a disused wooden shed with a partially collapsed roof, then a secluded area with lumps of coarse grass where no trees grew, only a few bushes.
“This looks promising,” I said.
“Yes, I’ve often wondered if this was an old graveyard. The nettles and brambles run riot, so it’s a magnet for butterflies. You can rip up the bushes and slash back the grass, but leave the trees that border this area, please,” Betty replied. The area covered roughly forty square yards.
*****
[In the Roman fortified town of Coria in the year 180 CE, Centurion Atticianus gives his report to Tribune Bebius]
Gaius silently rehearsed the report he knew he would soon be giving, then composed himself as the voices of officers entering the commander’s office filtered through the thin door.
“Ah, Centurion Atticianus, come forward and meet your fellow officers,” Tribune Flavius Lucius Bebius said in a welcoming tone, his composure fully recovered.
“Yes, sir!” Gaius replied, standing to attention. “I am Gaius Vitellius Atticianus, Centurion of Horses of the Fourth Century, Fourth Cohort, Sixth Legion, Victrix Pia Fidelis. I was sent here by Tribune Helvius Pertinax from Vindolanda which is under attack from a large force of barbarians these past two days.”
He paused as the officers gasped. With late arrivals, there were now two prefects and twelve centurions in the room, including Lupus, whom Gaius had recently escorted from Habitancum Fort to the Wall. He nodded to the Senior Centurion whom he knew, Julius Flavius or ‘First Spear’, who was above all centurions.
“It is necessary that you speak slowly, so that my clerk can record the detail of your report,” Tribune Bebius said. Gaius glanced over his shoulder at the clerk sitting at a small table in the corner of the room, stylus hovering over a wax tablet.
“Certainly, sir. But before I continue, may I ask, what action was taken upon hearing the report by Centurion Lupus Viridio of the fourth cohort? He had witnessed the gathering of the Caledonii tribes at the dun of the Selgovae king.”
A look of anger flashed across the tribune’s face. After glaring at Gaius for his impudence, he looked at the huge man in polished, gilded armour standing before him. “Well, First Spear, did you receive a report from this centurion of a gathering of the tribes?”
“I… did, Your Excellency, but you were otherwise detained at the time, and so I thought it could wait until our weekly briefing, scheduled for tomorrow, sir.”
“Fool! Do you not recognise an important piece of intelligence when you hear it?” The tribune’s cheeks turned puce again, this time with rage. “You could learn much from Centurion Atticianus here, who practically battered down my door to give me his report of hostiles approaching…” He checked himself, and his storm blew over as quickly as it had started, and he continued in a calm manner. “Right, put the entire garrison on full alert and send out your cavalry on patrols. Is there anything else we should know, Centurion Atticianus?”
Gaius cleared his throat and replied, “We were forced off the road at the estate of Magistrate Lucius Gabia…”
Tribune Bebius chuckled, cutting him short. “Ah, Fortuna guided you there. He is a friend of mine and I know his estate is built like a fortress. He convinced himself that one day barbarians would attack… and now they have. He is away in Eboracum at the courts. The walls are high and he even had corner towers built.”
“Yes, Fortuna be praised, sir. We made use of the walls and towers. And with the help of his estate workers, managed to keep the savages at bay long enough to bury our payroll chest and standard, before making a staggered retreat via the river path.”
“You did well, Centurion. My compliments to you for your wise actions in what must have been a grim situation. Remain behind and give the location details to my clerk. They must be recovered after we see off the barbarians.”
Gaius spun on his heels and marched out, followed by the scurrying clerk clutching half a dozen tablets to his chest. Gaius could see soldiers and civilians rushing about through the windows, and knew that meant the warband had been spotted.
The clerk sat and looked up, expectantly.
“We buried a chest of coins and the fourth cohort standard at the estate of Magistratus Lucius Gabia, in a grave marked with a stone in the name, Domina Drusilla Gabia,” he enunciated in a slow, deliberate manner, watching the bird’s nest on top of the clerk’s head wobble as he made deep and deliberate indents in the soft wax. “Those are the salient facts. And now, I take my leave.”
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June 9, 2021
Clare Flynn Sisters at War Coffee Pot Book Club Blog Tour #HistoricalFiction #WW2 #sistersatwar #BlogTour #CoffeePotBookClub @clarefly @maryanneyarde
It is my pleasure to feature Clare Flynn as part of The Coffee Pot Book Club Blog Tour being held from May 31st – June 11th, 2021. Clare Flynn is the author of the historical fiction, Sisters at War, which was released by Cranbrook Press on May 1st, 2021 (314 pages).
Below are highlights of Sisters at War, Clare Flynn’s author bio, and an excerpt from her book.
HIGHLIGHTS: SISTERS AT WAR
Sisters at War
By Clare Flynn
(Blurb)
1940 Liverpool. The pressures of war threaten to tear apart two sisters traumatised by their father’s murder of their mother.
With her new husband, Will, a merchant seaman, deployed on dangerous Atlantic convoy missions, Hannah needs her younger sister Judith more than ever. But when Mussolini declares war on Britain, Judith’s Italian sweetheart, Paolo is imprisoned as an enemy alien, and Judith’s loyalties are divided.
Each sister wants only to be with the man she loves but, as the war progresses, tensions between them boil over, and they face an impossible decision.
A heart-wrenching page-turner about the everyday bravery of ordinary people during wartime. From heavily blitzed Liverpool to the terrors of the North Atlantic and the scorched plains of Australia, Sisters at War will bring tears to your eyes and joy to your heart.
Buy Links:
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Clare Flynn is the author of thirteen historical novels and a collection of short stories. A former International Marketing Director and strategic management consultant, she is now a full-time writer.
Having lived and worked in London, Paris, Brussels, Milan and Sydney, home is now on the coast, in Sussex, England, where she can watch the sea from her windows. An avid traveler, her books are often set in exotic locations.
Clare is a Fellow of the Royal Society of Arts, a member of The Society of Authors, ALLi, and the Romantic Novelists Association. When not writing, she loves to read, quilt, paint and play the piano.
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They were off the north coast of Ireland when the torpedo struck. Less than twenty-four hours out of Liverpool. U-47 had one torpedo left and was returning to Germany, when the zig-zag course of the Arandora Star caused the U-boat captain to guess that it was an enemy ship.
At six in the morning, Paolo was asleep on the top deck. He was woken by a loud dull thump, as the missile smashed straight into the engine room, breaking the back of the ship. Men were thrown into the sea, spewed out like ash from a volcano.
In the chaos and shock that ensued, Paolo saw that some of the lifeboats had been damaged by the explosion. The ship was listing sharply, rendering the lifeboats on the uppermost side of the ship unlaunchable – swinging uselessly on their davits over the deck rather than the sea. Those that were usable were being lowered in a frenzy of panicked activity. Prisoners, guards, crew, and some of the men who had been pitched overboard, were pulled inside them.
Many of the Italians were too terrified to move. Paralysed. A number of elderly men appeared too frail and shocked to do anything; others were screaming that they couldn’t swim. Most of the Italians were on the lowest deck and had further to climb through the ship towards safety, by which time most of the functioning lifeboats were full or on the water, requiring a jump. Some of the cabin doors on those lower decks had jammed as a result of the explosion, leaving men trapped inside.
The early morning air was rent with screams of ‘Aiuto!’ – help me! – or desperate cries of prayer and pain. This motley band of mainly blameless men: hoteliers, caterers, hairdressers, waiters, shopkeepers, and doormen, were still in shock from being torn from home and family when they had committed no crime. Most were over fifty – several in their sixties and seventies – and now they were bewildered participants in a sea battle they’d never expected.
One of the crew handed Paolo a life jacket and he spotted Alfonso several feet away. The grocer looked wretched, his eyes hollow, his face gaunt. Paolo grabbed another jacket and pushed his way through the crowd towards his friend.
‘We must get into a lifeboat. There are still spaces,’ he told him. ‘The ship is sinking. We must get in a boat now.’
But by the time he and the shocked Signor Giordano reached the last of the lifeboats, it was already full and being lowered towards the sea.
Paolo looked about. The ship was going down. His years as a seaman left him in no doubt. ‘We’ll have to jump.’
‘I can’t swim,’ Alfonso said. ‘I never learnt.’ Around them, men were diving or jumping into the sea, but there were hundreds of others rushing around on the deck in a blind panic, fuelled by terror. German voices mixed with English, and Italian. Those deciding to take their chances in the sea seemed to be predominantly German – many of them merchant seamen like Paolo, or British guards and crew, while the elderly Italians stubbornly refused to budge, clinging onto the rails. They couldn’t believe that it could possibly be safer in the water than here on the – now steeply sloping – deck.
‘I’ll help you.’ Paolo tugged his arm, desperate. ‘You have to jump. Please, Alfonso. I beg you. It’s our only chance.’ He indicated the water below where men were bobbing around. ‘Look you can see how the water level has risen up the hull. The ship is broken. Trust me, I’m a sailor. It’s going to sink.’ He tried to control the fear in his voice.
But Giordano clung to the railings, his eyes brimming with tears. ‘I can’t do it. I can’t. You go.’ His face contorted in terror.
Paolo tried to help his friend to put on the life jacket, but Alfonso shoved him away. As he did so the life vest was grabbed by someone else. Below them, the sea was littered with debris, dead bodies, men swimming towards the lifeboats and a growing slick of black oil. The stricken vessel creaked ominously.
‘No. No. I can’t.’ Alfonso’s voice, barely a whisper, dripped fear.
‘Please, come with me, Alfonso.’
‘No!’ He shook his head rapidly, the fear pulsing off him, his eyes wild. Go! Tell my Maria I love her.’ He pushed Paolo towards the railing.
Paolo wasn’t ready to die. Jumping was the only hope he would ever have of seeing Judith again, With one last pleading look at Alfonso, he clambered over the railings and let himself drop towards the waters below.
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June 1, 2021
Glen Craney The Cotillion Brigade The Coffee Pot Book Club Blog Tour #HistoricalFiction #BlogTour #CoffeePotBookClub @glencraney @maryanneyarde
It is a pleasure to introduce Glen Craney as part of The Coffee Pot Book Club Blog Tour being held from May 24th – June 4th, 2021. Glen Craney is the author of the historical fiction novel, The Cotillion Brigade (A Novel of the Civil War and the Most Famous Female Militia in American History), which was released by Brigid’s Fire Press on 15th March 2021 (399 Pages).
Below are highlights of The Cotillion Brigade and Glen Craney’s author bio. As part of the blog tour, Glen has provided a guest post on the fascinating background of General Patrick Cleburne, a character in his novel. The moment Glen mentioned that General Patrick Cleburne was one of the greatest Irish warriors in the civil war, I immediately connected with the General’s Celtic warrior legacy along with the most famous female militia in American history.
HIGHLIGHTS: THE COTILLION BRIGADE
The Cotillion Brigade (A Novel of the Civil War and the Most Famous Female Militia in American History)
by Glen Craney
Georgia burns.
Sherman
’s Yankees are closing in.
Will the women of LaGrange run or fight?
Based on the true story of the celebrated Nancy Hart Rifles, The Cotillion Brigade is an epic novel of the Civil War’s ravages on family and love, the resilient bonds of sisterhood in devastation, and the miracle of reconciliation between bitter enemies.
“Gone With The Wind meets A League Of Their Own.” — John Jeter, The Plunder Room
1856. Sixteen-year-old Nannie Colquitt Hill makes her debut in the antebellum society of the Chattahoochee River plantations. A thousand miles to the north, a Wisconsin farm boy, Hugh LaGrange, joins an Abolitionist crusade to ban slavery in Bleeding Kansas.
Five years later, secession and total war against the homefronts of Dixie hurl them toward a confrontation unrivaled in American history.
Nannie defies the traditions of Southern gentility by forming a women’s militia and drilling it four long years to prepare for battle. With their men dead, wounded, or retreating with the Confederate armies, only Captain Nannie and her Fighting Nancies stand between their beloved homes and the Yankee torches.
Hardened into a slashing Union cavalry colonel, Hugh duels Rebel generals Joseph Wheeler and Nathan Bedford Forrest across Tennessee and Alabama. As the war churns to a bloody climax, he is ordered to drive a burning stake deep into the heart of the Confederacy.
Yet one Georgia town—which by mocking coincidence bears Hugh’s last name—stands defiant in his path.
Read the remarkable story of the Southern women who formed America’s most famous female militia and the Union officer whose life they changed forever.
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A graduate of Indiana University School of Law and Columbia University Graduate School of Journalism, Glen Craney practiced trial law before joining the Washington, D.C. press corps to write about national politics and the Iran-contra trial for Congressional Quarterly magazine. In 1996, the Academy of Motion Pictures, Arts and Sciences awarded him the Nicholl Fellowship prize for best new screenwriting. His debut historical novel, The Fire and the Light, was named Best New Fiction by the National Indie Excellence Awards. He is a three-time Finalist/Honorable Mention winner of Foreword Magazine’s Book-of-the-Year and a Chaucer Award winner for Historical Fiction. His books have taken readers to Occitania during the Albigensian Crusade, the Scotland of Robert Bruce, Portugal during the Age of Discovery, the trenches of France during World War I, the battlefields of the Civil War, and the American Hoovervilles of the Great Depression. He lives in Malibu, California.
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Thank you, Linnea, for inviting me as a guest on your blog.
I know your fans and readers love all things Celtic, so I wanted to share the story of one of the greatest Irish warriors of the American Civil War: Confederate General Patrick Cleburne, often called the “Stonewall of the West.”
A fun aspect of writing historical novels is stumbling upon secondary characters who merit a book of their own. Cleburne plays a small but important part in my latest release, The Cotillion Brigade, based on the true story of the Nancy Hart Rifles of Georgia, the most famous female militia in American history.
Why do I find Cleburne so fascinating? Maybe it’s because I share his Irish heritage. Or maybe because he was more interested in winning battles than playing politics. Or maybe because of his endearing lisp, incurred from a mouth wound at the battle of Richmond. Or maybe because my great-great-uncle, a Union captain with the Twelfth Kentucky Infantry, stood within yards of Cleburne when the Confederate general met his death in Tennessee.
Courageous and unflagging in battle, Cleburne was shy in social settings. Born in 1828 in County Cork, Ireland, he failed to follow in his physician father’s footsteps after flunking the Trinity College of Medicine’s entrance exam. Orphaned at fifteen, he enlisted in the British Army and attained the rank of corporal. He soon became disenchanted and emigrated to America, where he eventually settled in Arkansas. He found work in a Helena pharmacy and became fast friends with the politically connected Thomas Hindman, who would also attain the rank of major general in the Confederate army.
When the South seceded from the Union and war broke out, Cleburne enlisted as a private in the First Arkansas Regiment, not out of fervor for preserving the institution of slavery, but out of loyalty to his friends who helped him after he arrived from Ireland. This Celtic allegiance to compatriots would serve him well throughout the war, establishing him with Nathan Bedford Forrest as the only two Confederate soldiers who rose from the rank of private to major general. Yet his reputation in Richmond government circles flagged when he recommended offering freedom to slaves who were willing to fight in the Confederate armies.
Standing as best man at General William Hardee’s wedding, Cleburne met an Alabama belle, Sue Tarleton, and fell instantly in love. After a whirlwind courtship of two weeks, Cleburne proposed to her, and she accepted. Off to the Atlanta Campaign in the spring of 1864, Cleburne vowed to escape the war for a couple of days and marry Tarleton in LaGrange, Georgia, the location of my novel.
The marriage was not to be. Pressed hard by General William Tecumseh Sherman, Cleburne could not be spared even a night, and Tarleton, disappointed after waiting in LaGrange for two weeks, reluctantly returned to Mobile. In December of 1864, she was walking in her garden when she heard a paperboy shout a headline: “General Cleburne is dead.” She fainted and spent the next year confined to her bedroom in mourning. Her “Beau Pat,” she learned, had bitterly opposed a suicidal charge at Franklin, Tennessee. Yet when ordered to carry it out by General John Bell Hood, Cleburne adopted the Celtic acceptance of Fate. “If we are to die,” he told his fellow officers, “let us die like men.”
General Robert E. Lee remembered Cleburne—the highest-ranking Irish-born officer in American military history—as “a meteor shining from a clouded sky.”
General Cleburne Statue at Ringgold Gap, Georgia.
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May 30, 2021
Tony Riches Essex – Tudor Rebel Coffe Pot Book Club Blog Tour #Elizabethan #Tudors #HistoricalFiction #BlogTour #CoffeePotBookClub @tonyriches @maryanneyarde
It is my pleasure to feature Tony Riches as part of The Coffee Pot Book Club Blog Tour being held from May 24th – June 4th, 2021. Tony Riches is the author of the historical fiction novel, Essex – Tudor Rebel (Elizabethan Series, Book 2), which was released by Preseli Press on 9th April 2021 (352 Pages).
It was a privilege for me to interview Tony last year about his work after I read his amazing book about Owen Tudor, the founder of the Tudor Dynasty. Thus, I was excited to read and review his latest book about Robert Devereux (Earl of Essex). To read his interview, CLICK: Tony Riches Interview
Below are highlights and a book trailer of Essex – Tudor Rebel, author bio of Tony Riches, and my review of his book.
HIGHLIGHTS: ESSEX—TUDOR REBEL
ESSEX – Tudor Rebel
(Book Two of the Elizabethan Series)
by Tony Riches
Robert Devereux, Earl of Essex, is one of the most intriguing men of the Elizabethan period. Tall and handsome, he soon becomes a ‘favourite’ at court, so close to the queen many wonder if they are lovers.
The truth is far more complex, as each has what the other yearns for. Robert Devereux longs for recognition, wealth and influence. His flamboyant naïveté amuses the ageing Queen Elizabeth, like the son she never had, and his vitality makes her feel young.
Robert Devereux’s remarkable true story continues the epic tale of the rise of the Tudors, which began with the best-selling Tudor trilogy and concludes with the reign of Queen Elizabeth I.
Buy Links:
This novel is free to read with #KindleUnlimited subscription.
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AUTHOR BIO: TONY RICHES
Tony Riches is a full-time UK author of best-selling Tudor historical fiction. He lives in Pembrokeshire, West Wales and is a specialist in the history of the Wars of the Roses and the lives of the early Tudors. Tony’s other published historical fiction novels include: Owen – Book One Of The Tudor Trilogy, Jasper – Book Two Of The Tudor Trilogy, Henry – Book Three Of The Tudor Trilogy, Mary – Tudor Princess, Brandon – Tudor Knight and The Secret Diary Of Eleanor Cobham.
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BOOK REVIEW ESSEX —TUDOR REVEL
5 of 5 stars
The legacy of King Henry VIII has always fascinated me, but I’m not as familiar with Queen Elizabeth I in the Tudor Dynasty. Previously, I enjoyed reading Tony Riches’ novel, Owen (Book One of the Tudor Trilogy), and learning more about Owen Tudor, the founder of the Tudor Dynasty. Thus, I was excited to read his newest released book, Essex —Tudor Rebel (Book Two of the Elizabethan Series). This historical fiction novel is about the life story of Robert Devereux, the 2nd Earl of Essex and a favorite of Queen Elizabeth I. The Queen, 33 years his senior, is drawn to the tall and handsome nobleman and plays cards and dances with him in a show of courtly love.
The story begins in 1576 when the eleven-year-old Robert learns his father has mysteriously died at her Majesty’s service in Ireland, leaving the family in debt. Previously, Robert overheard his parents arguing about their debt and distinctly recalls his father’s terse reply: The queen has ruined me, and no man will give me credit for any money. This memory will continue to haunt Robert as he struggles to regain his family legacy at the royal court throughout his remaining life. Unfortunately, Robert inherits the Devereux curse: A talent for my expenditure exceeds my income. The subsequent marriage of Robert’s mother to Sir Robert Dudley, without the Queen’s permission, further complicates his situation at court. The novel abounds with political machinations, military expeditions, betrayal, courtly love, and scandalous liaisons. In many ways, Robert Devereux’s life journey mimics his father’s. Robert dies in disgrace as a rebel due to his hubris and unsound judgment.
Author Tony Riches has masterfully written a tragic Elizabethan tale that provides insight into Robert Devereux as he transforms from the Queen’s favorite courtier to a rebel. The narrative is rich with vivid descriptions and crisp dialogue typical of the era. By telling the story from Robert’s perspective, the reader more readily engages with him and understands his motivations and character flaws. He often finds excuses and blames others for his military failures and swelling debts. Though the Queen gives him lucrative offices and a profitable monopoly on imported sweet wine, Robert often displays an appalling breach of conduct whenever he is insulted by the rule of an older woman. He underestimates the Queen’s tolerance for his misbehavior and his enemies’ political ambitions behind the scenes. However, noblemen such as Robert Devereux often paid their own expenses on military expeditions in service of the Majesty and were never compensated. The resulting debt often placed enormous pressure on them to provide for their families. With these circumstances, it is understandable why Robert finally acted out in a rebellion. Embittered, he believes the Queen does not adequately acknowledge or pay him for his sacrifice to her, as she also did with his father.
The tale also provides insight into the interactions of the elderly Queen Elizabeth I with younger men in a show of courtly love. Though it is unlikely she had sexual affairs with Robert and other courtiers, she is extremely jealous of them, as if they were actually her lovers. She is often vindictive to her courtiers and their wives after they marry without her permission. An example is when she banishes Robert’s mother from court because she secretly married Sir Robert Dudley, one of the Queen’s former courtiers. The story also takes the reader on Robert’s military adventures, including with Francis Drake’s English Armada into France and Ireland and Walter Raleigh’s expedition to the Azores.
I highly recommend Essex – Tudor Rebel for those interested in the Tudor Dynasty. It is a tragic Elizabethan tale steeped in political intrigue, dangerous liaisons, and military adventures.
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May 29, 2021
Welcome to Day 10 of #NJ12DaysOfAuthors (May) Series! @LinneaTanner @RRBC_Org @RRBC_RWISA @Tweets4RWISA #DaggersDestiny
I am honored to announce that my interview with Nonnie Jules, an author who loves supporting other authors, has been posted at her site. For the full interview, click on the following: Day 10 #NJ12DaysofAuthors.
Nonnie revived her “12 Days of Authors” series, which she began in 2014, but stopped due to the sudden passing of a very dear online friend. I’m featured as the Day 10 author in the series. I would greatly appreciate it if you would support each author who has been featured in the series. If you leave a comment along with the event, you will be entered into a giveaway to win a 12 e-book package, all titles being featured in the series, along with a $10 Amazon gift card, courtesy of Nonnie Jules!
Check out the various authors along with each day’s feature. There is a ton of information being shared by the various authors, and some of it could benefit you and your own writing. Click on the link to follow: https://nonniewrites.wordpress.com/nonnies-12-days-of-authors-series/
May 25, 2021
M J Porter The Custard Corpses Coffee Pot Book Club Book Tour #HistoricalFiction #HistoricalMystery #TheCustardCorpses #BlogTour #CoffeePotBookClub
It is my pleasure to feature M J Porter as part of The Coffee Pot Book Club Blog Tour being held from April 6th – June 8th, 2021. M J Porter is the author of the historical mystery, The Custard Corpses, which was released by M J Publishing on March 25th, 2021 (225 pages).
Below are highlights of The Custard Corpses, M J Porter’s author bio, and an excerpt from her book.
HIGHLIGHTS: THE CUSTARD CORPSES
The Custard Corpses
by M J Porter
A delicious 1940s mystery.
Birmingham, England, 1943.
While the whine of the air raid sirens might no longer be rousing him from bed every night, a two-decade-old unsolved murder case will ensure that Chief Inspector Mason of Erdington Police Station is about to suffer more sleepless nights.
Young Robert McFarlane’s body was found outside the local church hall on 30th September 1923. But, his cause of death was drowning, and he’d been missing for three days before his body was found. No one was ever arrested for the crime. No answers could ever be given to the grieving family. The unsolved case has haunted Mason ever since.
But, the chance discovery of another victim, with worrying parallels, sets Mason, and his constable, O’Rourke, on a journey that will take them back over twenty-five years, the chance to finally solve the case, while all around them the uncertainty of war continues, impossible to ignore.
Buy Links:
Amazon UK 
Amazon US 
Amazon CA
Amazon AU
Universal Buy Link
M J Porter writes historical fiction set before 1066. Usually.
This is M J’s first foray into the historical mystery genre and the, relatively recent, twentieth century.
M J writes A LOT, you’ve been warned.
Social Media:
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Inside the door, plush carpets stretched out all around, and a beautiful receptionist, with her hair styled in the latest fashions wearing bright red lipstick, walked directly towards them.
“Can I help you?” She had a pleasant voice, for all she sounded as though she’d been raised at Buckingham Palace. Sam detected iron behind it. She was used to keeping out the riff-raff.
“Good day. I’m Chief Inspector Mason,” at his words, her smile faltered just a little.
“You are the people Superintendent Smythe from Erdington police station telephoned about?”
“Ah, he managed to get through, did he? It was impossible yesterday.”
“We had a large auction taking place. I’m afraid that all three phone lines were busy all day long. But, we’re expecting you, and I’ve informed our modern art expert that you require some time with him. Now, if you’ll come this way, I’ll get you set up in an area where you’re unlikely to be disturbed.”
“Thank you,” Sam responded quickly.
He went to follow the receptionist, only to realise that O’Rourke wasn’t beside him. He turned and found her, mouth agape, staring at part of the display in the foyer.
“Look at that,” she gasped, pointing.
“Yes, it’s a piece of needlepoint showing Louis XIV of France,” the receptionist trilled. “It’s been sold, but we’re displaying it for the time being. Please, don’t breathe on it incorrectly.” Her words snapped with irritation.
“Breathe on it wrong?” O’Rourke mused while Sam shrugged. It was a strange thing to say, but perhaps it made sense to the receptionist.
“It sold for two hundred thousand pounds,” the receptionist offered, holding open an opulent door for them, which disappointingly opened onto a room that wouldn’t have looked out of place in the dour police station in Erdington. “I really wish they’d keep it behind a screen, but you know, they say they know best. Now, can I get you tea, coffee? Biscuits, and I’ll inform Mr Rain at the same time.”
Sam asked for tea and biscuits, as did O’Rourke, and then they settled themselves in the chairs waiting for Mr Rain to appear.
It was an odd room, a lone green-leafed plant inhabiting one of the corners. But there were no windows, and it felt cool, too cold as they’d been on a train for close to three hours and had then walked from Euston to Mayfair while the wind had whipped their coats and hats. The train had been delayed, first of all by a signalling problem, and then because they’d had to wait for a freight train laden with coal to pass them.
There was a low table and also a high table, and they sat around it, choosing an end each, with the slimmed-down portfolio between them. Sam stifled a yawn. It had been an early start, and he’d not thought to sleep on the train journey, even though he probably should have done. O’Rourke had buried herself in an Agatha Christie book for the length of the train ride, and he’d had little to do but consider what they knew so far. The solution felt tantalisingly close but also very far away.
“Here you go,” the receptionist returned before Mr Rain arrived, and the purpose of the lower table became abundantly clear as she placed the tea tray there.
“It’s better to keep fluid away from canvas,” she offered, with half a smile. “He won’t be more than five minutes,” she assured them and then left again.
Instagram: @coffeepotbookclub
May 20, 2021
Welcome to Nonnie’s “12 Days of Authors” {May} Series! @nonniejules #Giveaways
Author, Nonnie Jules loves supporting other authors. This is why she has revived her “12 Days of Authors” series which she began in 2014, but stopped due to the sudden passing of a very dear online friend. I will be featured during this May “12 Days of Authors” series and would greatly appreciate it if you would support each day of the series. If you leave a comment along with the event, you will be entered into a giveaway to win a 12 e-book package, all titles being featured in the series, along with a $10 Amazon gift card, courtesy of Nonnie Jules!
I hope to see you following along with each day’s feature. There is a ton of information being shared by the various authors and some of it could benefit you and your own writing. Here’s the link to follow along… https://nonniewrites.wordpress.com/no...
Best wishes,
Linnea Tanner
May 18, 2021
Cathie Dunn The Shadows of Versailles Coffee Pot Book Club Blog Tour #HistoricalFiction #HistoricalMystery #Versailles #BlogTour #CoffeePotBookClub
It is my pleasure to feature Cathie Dunn as part of The Coffee Pot Book Club Blog Tour being held from May 10th – May 21st, 2021. Cathie Dunn is the author of the historical fiction/mystery novel, The Shadows of Versailles (An Affair of the Poisons Book One) was released by Ocelot Press on November 20th, 2020 (ebook: 251 pages; print: 277 pages).
Below are highlights of The Shadows of Versailles, Cathie Dunn’s author bio, and an excerpt from her book.
HIGHLIGHTS: THE SHADOWS OF VERSAILLES
An Affair of the Poisons Book One
By Cathie Dunn
Dazzled by Versailles. Broken by tragedy. Consumed by revenge.
When Fleur de La Fontaine attends the court of King Louis XIV for the first time, she is soon besotted with handsome courtier, Philippe de Mortain. She dreams of married life away from her uncaring mother, but Philippe keeps a secret from her.
Nine months later, after the boy she has given birth to in a convent is whisked away, she flees to Paris where she mends gowns in the brothel of Madame Claudette, a woman who helps ‘fallen’ girls back on their feet.
Jacques de Montagnac investigates a spate of abducted children when his path crosses Fleur’s. He searches for her son, but the trail leads to a dead end – and a dreadful realisation.
Her boy’s suspected fate too much to bear, Fleur decides to avenge him. She visits the famous midwife, La Voisin, but it’s not the woman’s skills in childbirth that Fleur seeks.
La Voisin dabbles in poisons.
Will Fleur see her plan through? Or can she save herself from a tragic fate?
Delve into The Shadows of Versailles and enter the sinister world of potions, poisoners and black masses during the Affairs of the Poisons, a real event that stunned the court of the Sun King!
Buy Links:
Kindle Unlimited
Universal Link Amazon UK Amazon US Amazon CA Amazon AU
Cathie Dunn writes historical fiction, mystery, and romance.
Cathie has been writing for over twenty years. She studied Creative Writing, with a focus on novel writing, which she now teaches in the south of France. She loves researching for her novels, delving into history books, and visiting castles and historic sites.
Her stories have garnered awards and praise from reviewers and readers for their authentic description of the past.
Cathie is a member of the Historical Novel Society and the Alliance of Independent Authors.
After nearly two decades in Scotland, she now lives in the historic city of Carcassonne in the south of France with her husband, two cats and a rescue dog.
Social Media Links:
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From Chapter Nine:
Early June, 1676
The Convent of the Carmelites, Paris
The walls of the convent towered in front of him when Jacques stopped outside the entrance. From the upper levels, two small, rectangular windows overlooked this side. It resembled a fortress more than a religious house. From the corner of his eye, he thought he spotted a shadow moving behind a window. Had the nuns seen him approach?
He tied the hired horse to a solid iron ring set into the stone and knocked on the door. Several moments passed before a young nun opened the grille.
“Yes?”
“Good day. I wish to speak to Sister Benedicte.”
“The sister does not receive visitors at this moment, monsieur.”
Had they seen him approach? The negative response had been too swift.
“I can wait.”
The nun inhaled sharply. “No, you can’t. I mean, she will not…” She looked around before whispering, “She won’t speak to you.”
Jacques grinned. “So she was watching my arrival? Ah.”
“I never said that.” Her eyes widened, and the sudden sharp tone in her voice showed her fear.
“I’m sure you didn’t, sister. I could always speak to the Mother Superior instead.”
Again, the nun shook her head. “Please leave, sir.”
“No.” He leaned against the stone frame. “I’m in no hurry.”
“You can’t stay there!”
“Why ever not?” He extended his arm in a sweeping gesture. “It’s a beautiful day. The sun is shining. Out here, the air is fresh. No, ’tis as I said, I can wait.”
“As you wish!” The nun shut the grille, leaving him standing in front of the closed door.
As he expected, moments later she returned and unlocked it.
“Please enter.” She stood aside as he walked into the entrance room. “But wait here! The Mother Superior will see you shortly.” She disappeared down a narrow corridor.
Jacques glanced around, but all was silent – except for a swishing sound coming from the cloisters. Intrigued, he stepped through the adjoining door. In a corner to his right, a woman, heavily pregnant, was sweeping the floor.
Should she be doing this in her advanced condition? But then, he remembered the many women in his quartier who undertook much harder chores than merely cleaning the floor, right up to the day they gave birth. A new respect had grown in him as he’d watched them. It was something that rarely occurred to men, especially those of a certain station. Perhaps women were indeed stronger than men, not physically, but in their minds? A thought that would no doubt outrage the learned professors.
But what he wanted to know whether this woman was one of those who came here to have their child, only to never see it again? Looking around, he saw no sign of any nuns. He coughed into his fist to alert her to his presence and approached her in swift strides.
She pivoted towards him. Her youth surprised him. She could barely be seventeen, if that.
“Good day, mademoiselle.”
“Oh, monsieur.” Her hand flew to her mouth.
The girl was too thin for one so heavy with child. A simple linen gown hung like a sack off her frame, stretching over the rounded belly. Her blonde hair was tied back in a tight braid, and the pretty face appeared tired. Only then did he realise that her eyes were red-rimmed, her eyelids puffed. She’d been crying.
“Please help me.”
His heart tugged at his conscience, and he clenched and unclenched his fists. “What can I do for you, mademoiselle?”
Her gaze flew across the cloisters before it settled on him with a beseeching look. “You must help me escape. Today.”
“Are you held here against your will?” Anger rose within him when she nodded. “You can accompany me to Paris if you wish.”
“Oh, thank you, monsieur.”
“Where would you want to go to?”
At that, she paused. Did she not have any family?
“I…I need to get away from here. I…” Her eyes widened as she stared behind him. Footsteps echoed around the stone walls. “No!” the girl screamed.
He spun around and looked straight into the barrel of a pistol Sister Benedicte aimed at him.
“Out!” the nun ordered, her cold eyes staring at him.
“No, let me go!” Two nuns who had appeared as if from out of nowhere dragged the girl away. “My child!”
He was about to follow her, to wrestle her from the sisters when the cold metal was pressed against the back of his head. “Don’t think I won’t pull the trigger. You’ve made a nuisance of yourself here for the last time, Montagnac. Now leave!”
“Not without this woman.”
“She’s of feeble mind and due to give birth any moment. See, her clothing is staining. ’Tis time. I have to attend to her.”
He cursed himself for not being armed, as they hauled the girl away. A trail of liquid was running down her skirt.
Hell! She’s giving birth.
Instagram: @coffeepotbookclub
May 10, 2021
DAVID LOUX CHATEAU LAUX THE COFFEE POT BOOK CLUB BLOG TOUR #HistoricalFiction #ChateauLaux #BlogTour #CoffeePotBookClub @maryanneyarde @ChateauLaux
It is my pleasure to feature David Loux as part of The Coffee Pot Book Club Blog Tour being held from April 6 – June 8, 2021. David Loux is the author of the historical/literary fiction novel, Chateau Laux, which was released by Wire Gate Press on April 6, 2021 (292 pages).
Below are highlights of Chateau Laux, David Loux’s author bio, and an excerpt from his book.
Chateau Laux
by David Loux
Lawrence Kraymer, young entrepreneur from a youthful Philadelphia, chances upon a French aristocrat and his family living on the edge of the frontier. Born to an unwed mother and raised by a disapproving and judgmental grandfather, he is drawn to the close-knit family. As part of his courtship of one of the patriarch’s daughters, he builds a château for her, setting in motion a sequence of events he could not have anticipated.
Buy Links:
Amazon UK 
Amazon US Amazon CA Amazon AU Barnes and Noble Kobo
AUTHOR BIO: DAVID LOUX
David Loux is a short story writer who has published under pseudonym and served as past board member of California Poets in the Schools. Chateau Laux is his first novel. He lives in the Eastern Sierra with his wife, Lynn.
Social Media Links:
Website Twitter Goodreads Amazon Author Page
EXCERPT FROM CHATEAU LAUX
Starting on Chapter TWENTY-FIVE, Page 207 . . .
The shepherd boy gave Pierre his bag of culinary spices, assuming Pierre would have need of them and that a good meal was all he could hope for in the civilized wilds ahead, and Pierre clambered down, through precipitous, boulder-strewn drop-offs. For a time, the shepherd stood in plain view, watching him descend the slope, and then the boy was gone, a bit of cloud hanging where he had been. There was the blue sky, the bit of cloud, the leaning fringes of trees, a little apron of meadow and the rocks, the downslope that soon towered above him, the wood smoke and sewer smells of the city, cows with bells and barking dogs, sniffing, trailing dogs with bristling backs, staring people who watched as he approached and then turned their backs, watching him from the corners of their eyes until he was safely past and beyond the reach of harm to them.
Though no one made a friendly gesture, no one challenged him, either, and he found himself in the town square. In the center of the square was a fountain, with water gurgling up and spilling over a mass of stones. An old woman sat on a bench beside the fountain. She wore a black headscarf and a long black shawl. Gray hair wired out around the scarf and she had a dark, leathery face with a beaked nose. She seemed to doze, hands with prominent knuckles folded in her lap, and ankles wrapped in cotton stockings, heavy black shoes resting with the heels apart.
“Do you mind if I sit next to you?” Pierre asked, and she looked at him with a fierce, stabbing eye.
“If you think you dare,” she said.
“Why would I not dare?” he said, cautiously.
“Some say I have the evil eye.”
“Do you?”
She gave a contemptuous laugh and shrugged.
“Some say it and that’s enough for most,” she said, turning her head to the side to spit.
“I’ll sit then, if you don’t mind,” he said, lowering himself to the bench. He paused for a moment, then gave her a sideways look. “But if you do have the evil eye and think you might want to give it to me, I would like to suggest I have had enough troubles without adding to them. I wouldn’t mind a reprieve, if you don’t mind my saying so.”
She opened her mouth and started to silently laugh, drawing in breaths and pushing them back out again.
“I was thinking of taking a nap, sitting here in the sun, but now I think that I won’t. You’ve caught my interest. I don’t get a chance for many conversations and precious few laughs. You’re not from around here, I can plainly see. As can anyone, for that matter. I bet you got a warm reception.”
“Not hardly!” he exclaimed. “No one will even look at me!”
Her shoulders rocked with silent laughter.
“Is it any wonder? You could be the devil himself, come down out of the mountains. Eaten any children, have you? Fancied any of the maidens you might have seen peering at you past partially closed shutters?”
“What makes you think I came down from the mountains?”
“You look like a shepherd and smell like sheep.”
“I do?” he said, astonished at the impression he’d made on the old woman and presumably the townsfolk as well. He was a nobleman’s son, after all, and still thought of himself as such, in spite of the ordeals he had suffered.
“Shepherds are a scary lot, a little bit wild and unpredictable, all that starry sky on the mountaintops. Living with the winds in the trees and making your own medicines out of nature’s herbs. People around here need the likes of you to watch their sheep over the grazing months, but it’s best you stay in the mountains where you belong in the in-between times. Stop in a town too long and some might take a mind to burn you at the stake,” she said, only partly in jest.
“I’m not a shepherd.”
“Could’ve fooled me,” she retorted.
“I’m looking for some people who live here,” he said.
“I figured you wanted something. Nobody sits down next to an old woman with the evil eye unless they’ve got good cause.”
He explained who he was looking for and she gave him a sharp look.
“They were big house people and been gone a long time now,” she said, choosing her words with care. “Is that what you are—a big house person?”
Pierre’s mind reeled at the thought that he had come all this way for naught.
“What happened that they left?” he said.
“To hear it told, it was the house they lived in. It burned to the ground. Some say it was the soldiers on account of they were heretics. Others say it was people from the town who did it. You know how people can be when they get ideas in their heads. I couldn’t rightly tell you what happened, one way or the other.”
Pierre stood up to leave and the old woman softened.
“Goodbye, shepherd boy,” she said.
“How many times do I have to tell you—”
“I know,” she interjected, giving him a rare smile. “But better, perhaps, if you were,” she offered.
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May 6, 2021
SPRING IS IN THE AIR AUDIOBOOK GIVEAWAY #AUDIOBOOKGIVEAWAY @UviPoznansky
I’m excited to be a part of a select group of authors who have joined forces to bring you amazing stories narrated by great voice actors. Just in time for Mother’s Day — SPRING IS IN THE AIR is a two-day Facebook Event on May 7th at 10 AM MDT – May 8th at 7 PM MDT. Anyone on or off Facebook can enter. All you have to do for a chance to win a free audiobook is to click “GOING” at the following link to indicate that you will be joining the celebration: JOIN NOW SPRING IS IN THE AIR
ENTER TODAY FOR A CHANCE TO WIN AN AUDIOBOOK IN THIS GREAT EVENT JUST IN TIME FOR MOTHER’S DAY!
