Tracy Cooper-Posey's Blog, page 23
August 30, 2021
August/September 20% Off Sale is now on
It’s here! The sale everyone waits for every month!
The long-timers who know me and the SRP site are super-canny about this. They browse the catalogue all month, add books they want to their baskets, then wait for this sale to scoop them all up.
And that’s totally fine by me.
Today’s 20% off coupon code is:
ZZ89MV67
The coupon is only for sales on the Stories Rule Press store, but it includes everything on the site, including boxed sets and items already on sale.
The sale runs from today through to the end of September 2nd, MDT. You can use the coupon code as often as you want, and you can pass the code on to friends.
Start browsing for books here: https://storiesrulepress.com/shop/
Use the code on the checkout page, to apply the 20% discount.
Enjoy!
Tracy
August 17, 2021
It’s Black Cat day — and the Love & Legends anthology is out!
When I was invited to join the Love & Legends anthology, it was set up a bit differently from other anthologies I’ve been in. There was a theme, but we were also assigned the “legend” part of the theme. The editors literally stuck a pin in an old map of Britain, for each author in the anthology, and wherever the pin landed, they picked the legend that was sited closest to the pin.
I was incredibly fortunate to be assigned a legend that was located in Wales, but I’d never heard of it before, and had to research. The Maen Llia isn’t nearly as well known as Stonehenge.
But then I found out how close it was to modern day Carmarthen, in Wales, which was called Maridunum in the 6th century. In my King Arthur series, Once and Future Hearts, Maridunum is where Merlin was born and was raised for the first few years of his life.
Once I learned that, my story for the anthology fell into place with clicks and whirs.
When the editors announced the official release date for the anthology, they mentioned that it was also Black Cat day, so it would be fun to insert a black cat into our stories, if possible.
Alas, domestic cats were not terribly common in Britain in the 6th century. The Romans venerated cats and kept them in their temples. They did bring cats to Britain, but they also took most of them back with them when they returned to Rome. There were a few cats left to breed–and Britian is where the Norwegians first came across them, and took them back to Norway.
But it was rare for Britons to keep domestic cats. Especially in my series, when the Britons were generally suspicious of Romans and anything that smacked too much of Roman culture, trying to force a black cat into the story would have been difficult.
So I chose to leave cats out of my story.
However, I do love cats and we had three of them for many years: Merry, Pippin and Strider.
Strider is a black cat and when we got him, he fit onto the palm of my hand:
What I didn’t know at the time was that Strider was a Norwegian Mountain cat, and they grow big. Here’s Strider these days:
He’s Mark’s writing buddy — he lies with his head on Mark’s forearm as Mark works.
Pippin is my writing buddy, but today I’m acknowledging the crazy black kitty in our household. 
The Love & Legends anthology is a BIG book — check out the size of the spine here:
As I write this post, the editors are attempting to find a printer who can handle such a big book. (Amazon cannot). So, if you prefer print editions, do look to see if a print version is available by the time the book is released!
My story in the Love & Legends anthology is “Touched by Maen Llia”.
Caught between magic and truth…Catrin is a handmaiden to the old Queen of Dyfed, whose husband and king, Geraint, has died without an heir, leaving the kingdom ripe for plucking. Yet Dyfed is the birthplace of King Arthur’s enchanter and adviser, Prince Merlin, who travels to the troubled kingdom to settle the question of who should be king.
Marcus Jorath is a newcomer to Camelot and wants only to serve King Arthur, whose peace has brought such a difference to the life and prospects of his family. Yet he is assigned to travel with Merlin to the out-of-the-way kingdom of Dyfed instead.
When the Dyfed mage, Ianto, declares it is mid-summer’s day, the maids of the kingdom visit the Maen Llia to make a wish. Catrin disputes it is the solstice, for she can read and is learned in the ways of tracking seasons and more, but no one listens to her, and she is forced to visit Maen Llia with the other women.
Merlin’s company of armed men come across the women, and Marcus finds himself drawn to the fiery redheaded Catrin and her blunt, direct way of speaking and thinking about the world.
Their attraction puts them in the path of Ianto, who is more than the kingsdom’s inadquate mage, and has plans of his own he will not let a mere slip of a girl interefere with… This novel is part of the ancient historical romance series, Once and Future Hearts, set in Britain during the time of King Arthur.
1.0 Born of No Man
2.0 Dragon Kin
3.0 Pendragon Rises
4.0 War Duke of Britain
5.0 High King of Britain
6.0 Battle of Mount Badon
7.0 Abduction of Guenivere
8.0 Downfall of Cornwall
8.1 Touched by Maen Llia
9.0 Vengeance of Arthur
10.0 Grace of Lancelot
11.0 The Grail and Glory
12.0 Camlann
Love & Legends is released today, everywhere.Discover the legends of the British Isles and fall in love with witches, ghosts, shifters and more in this collection of paranormal, fantasy, and urban fantasy romance books from bestselling authors.
Whether it’s haunted castles, witches, or hidden demons, there’s something for everyone within the pages of Love & Legends.
If you dare discover the spooky goings-on of British Legends, one-click for your copy of this limited edition anthology.
Including brand new stories from:
New York Times Bestselling Author, Margo Bond Collins
USA Today Bestselling Author, Skye MacKinnon
USA Today Bestselling Author, Laura Greenwood
USA Today Bestselling Author, Arizona Tape
USA Today Bestselling Author, Ann Gimpel
USA Today Bestselling Author, Anthea Sharp
USA Today Bestselling Author, Zoey Indiana
USA Today Bestselling Author, Tina Glasneck
USA Today Bestselling Author, Bec McMaster
USA Today Bestselling Author, Demelza Carlton
Joely Sue Burkhart
Tracy Cooper-Posey
Mia Harlan & Hanleigh Bradley
Gemma Cates
TB Mann
K. R. Max
Lili Black
Buy Love and Legends Now!Enjoy!
August 3, 2021
Excerpt! “Touched By Maen Llia” — brand new paranormal fantasy romance story!
You may remember that last month I mentioned a new paranormal fantasy anthology that is coming up in August.
At the time I didn’t have a story title, or much of a blurb for my story that is in the anthology. So all I could boast about was the number of USA Today best selling authors in this anthology. A lot, it turns out.
But now I do have a title and a blurb.
Caught between magic and truth…Catrin is a handmaiden to the old Queen of Dyfed, whose husband and king, Geraint, has died without an heir, leaving the kingdom ripe for plucking. Yet Dyfed is the birthplace of King Arthur’s enchanter and adviser, Prince Merlin, who travels to the troubled kingdom to settle the question of who should be king.
Marcus Jorath is a newcomer to Camelot and wants only to serve King Arthur, whose peace has brought such a difference to the life and prospects of his family. Yet he is assigned to travel with Merlin to the out-of-the-way kingdom of Dyfed instead.
When the Dyfed mage, Ianto, declares it is mid-summer’s day, the maids of the kingdom visit the Maen Llia to make a wish. Catrin disputes it is the solstice, for she can read and is learned in the ways of tracking seasons and more, but no one listens to her, and she is forced to visit Maen Llia with the other women.
Merlin’s company of armed men come across the women, and Marcus finds himself drawn to the fiery redheaded Catrin and her blunt, direct way of speaking and thinking about the world.
Their attraction puts them in the path of Ianto, who is more than the kingsdom’s inadquate mage, and has plans of his own he will not let a mere slip of a girl interefere with… This novel is part of the ancient historical romance series, Once and Future Hearts, set in Britain during the time of King Arthur.
1.0 Born of No Man
2.0 Dragon Kin
3.0 Pendragon Rises
4.0 War Duke of Britain
5.0 High King of Britain
6.0 Battle of Mount Badon
7.0 Abduction of Guenivere
8.0 Downfall of Cornwall
8.1 Touched by Maen Llia
9.0 Vengeance of Arthur
10.0 Grace of Lancelot
11.0 The Grail and Glory
12.0 Camlann
I’ve been getting a few emails and questions from you guys, asking when the next book in the series will be out. This is a novella, rather than a novel, but there you go. As requested. And yes, the next novel is on my writing list, too.
So, as usual, two weeks out from the release date, let me give you a big-ish excerpt from the story.
Excerpt
EXCERPT FROM
TOUCHED BY MAEN LLIA
COPYRIGHT © TRACY COOPER-POSEY 2021
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
I
King’s Palace, Maridunum, Kingdom of Dyfed, Britain, 506AD.
When Ianto grew tired of beating her, Catrin crept out to the old orchard where no one else went. She found a patch of shade beneath the apricot tree, and carefully rested her shoulder against the gnarled old trunk. She couldn’t put her back to it.
It was just after the midday meal and the sun was high overhead, blazing in a cloudless sky, beating down upon the dried earth between the trees. The weeds which had once softened the paths between the trees had gasped their last breath days ago, had withered and blown away. The vines on the old Roman walls surrounding the orchard were brittle, the leaves curled. When a breeze caught at them, they clattered, like a drummer’s sticks, but there was no breeze today.
The grapes which grew across the pergola were ailing. The apple tree in the corner drooped. Only the apricot tree thrived in the heat. Some said the apricot tree had been growing in this orchard since before Merlin’s time. They said Merlin had sat beneath the apricot tree and that the orchard had been a favourite place of his. Perhaps that was why it had never been torn down, even though few of the trees bore fruit, anymore.
Catrin wondered if the great wizard had come here to escape, as she did. She suspected not. Who would dare beat Merlin? He would have changed them into toads if they tried.
Thinking of wizards brought her thoughts back to Ianto, with his drooping moustache and cold black eyes. Catrin didn’t want to think about him at all. She hissed her annoyance as the bark on the trunk of the tree dug into a painful spot on her flesh. She shifted so only her outer shoulder touched the tree.
Then she rested her head against it and listened to a cricket swiftly tick in the corner of the little walled garden. Far overhead, a gull cawed. She could smell the heat rising from the soil around her, but it was not rich with earthy, green smells. Instead, it smelled dusty and tickled her nose.
Silence dropped over the orchard, as if the heat had blasted away the wind and rendered every human and creature incapable of movement.
Her senses told her she wasn’t alone anymore. Catrin turned to scan the gate.
The woman standing in front of the just-closing gate was nearly as tall as Catrin, with long silver hair flowing down her back. She favoured blue for her gowns, which tested the dying skills of the women of the court, but the Queen always got her way. The blue matched Eira’s eyes, which watched Catrin steadily. Her crooked fingers gripped the top of the staff she used to help her walk, ever since she had been thrown from her horse twelve years ago.
“My lady,” Catrin said, pushing herself up from the earth. Then she hissed again and paused as her back throbbed. Yet to make the Queen wait brought its own penalties, so she gritted her teeth together and rose to her feet.
“How bad is it?” Eira demanded. Her voice was rough with age.
“It is nothing,” Catrin lied. “Is there something you wish me to do?”
The Queen walked forward, the tip of the staff tapping hollowly on the baked earth. “Let me see this nothing and judge for myself.”
Catrin hesitated. She could not refuse. Eira was a queen. The Queen of Dyfed, at least until the next king was chosen from among the two cousins who claimed the throne was rightfully theirs. On the other hand, Catrin’s status was barely higher than a slave.
She was a bastard, the daughter of a servant. It was only because Queen Eira liked her that Catrin had any sort of position in the King’s house.
Only, revealing her back would be the same as declaring she was incapable of working. To work, to do every task and chore given to her, was why she was allowed to remain in the old Roman villa.
Yet the Queen had commanded. Catrin turned and slipped her arm out of the old tunic, then the other one, and let the tunic fall about her waist.
“Your hair,” Eira said, as she came closer.
Catrin gathered up the red wavy locks and pulled them over her shoulder, her heart thudding.
Eira studied her back for long moments. Then she sighed. “For a man made of naught but bones and skin, Ianto has a heavy hand. Sit on the bench over here. I’ve brought something which will help take the hurt out of the bruises.”
Catrin looked over her shoulder, startled. “You cannot mean to tend my back yourself? I can do it.”
Eira’s faded blue eyes met her gaze. “You can barely get up without help. Who else should do this?”
“Well, I suppose…” Catrin bit her lip. For minor aches and ailments, everyone in the palace consulted Ianto. “This is not proper,” she added, as Eira pushed her toward the bench, then gripped her shoulder with a hand that still had all its youthful strength and pushed her onto the hot stone.
“Oh, hush, child,” Eira muttered, sitting beside her. She propped the staff against the bench and pulled a small pot of unguent out of her pocket and removed the lid. “Turn so I can reach your back. Turn, I say.”
Catrin turned her back on the Queen. “The court would be horrified if they saw their Queen tending a servant.”
“Which is why I followed you to where no one else dares come, for they are all too afraid of the shade of Merlin.” Eira gave a “psh” sound, declaring that fear as nonsense. “You are too useful a companion and the lack of your company would be too great an inconvenience for me.”
The salve did soothe her hurts. It was cool against her heated flesh and spread relief across her back as Eira quickly spread it.
“I will not deprive myself of your conversation because I am too proud to minister to a girl who should know better than to dispute the King’s mage,” Eira added, her tone matter-of-fact.
“But it isn’t the solstice!” Catrin said. “Ianto has the day wrong, I can prove it! Mid-summer is tomorrow.”
“You can prove it, you say?”
“Yes! The sundial and my gnomon stick tell me the solstice is tomorrow. I swear to you, my lady, Ianto has it wrong.”
“Good,” Eira said firmly.
“Good?”
“You said nothing about the sundial and those sticks of yours when Ianto was beating you. I thought that perhaps you’d read it in the stars or some such foolish thing.”
“Magic? I have no magic,” Catrin said swiftly, for Eira had often told her that. “I have mundane knowledge, which you gave me.”
“I gave you books which I cannot read myself,” Eira replied. “I thought you were clever. Leastwise, you’ve always appeared so to me, with your reading and knowledge. Yet to tell Ianto he was wrong in front of everyone… Poor Ban the goose boy would have known to hold his tongue.”
Catrin looked over her shoulder—or tried to. The twisting movement hurt. She hissed again and straightened. “If I had stayed silent, then the mid-summer feast would take place tonight. The gods would not like that. How can I let Ianto expose the kingdom to more bad luck, simply because he has read the stars wrong?”
“You’re a bastard and a girl,” Eira said, in a calm way which took the sting out of that fact. “Ianto is a mage and a wise man. Who do you think the court will listen to?”
Catrin slumped. “Ianto.”
“Aye, and they did. The women will bathe in the Afon Llia at sunset, when the Maen Llia comes to drink at the river and bless them. The mid-summer feast will be held tonight, after the sun has gone. Nothing will change, except that now you have a back that looks like those dried vines over there.”
“It will heal,” Catrin said firmly.
“Aye, the flesh will grow back,” Eira said. “I will pray that your good sense does, too. Put your tunic back on.”
Catrin pushed her arms into the openings in the tunic and carefully pulled it up over her back. Unlike the ladies of the court, her tunic stopped at her ankles, instead of dragging upon the floor and trailing behind them as they walked. Her sandals did not tangle in excess folds and trip her up. She got up from the bench and turned to Eira. “Thank you, my lady.”
Eira grimaced as she put the lid on the pot and the pot back in her pocket. “For the salve or the lesson?”
“Both.” Catrin smiled.
So did Eira. Then the Queen rolled her eyes. “And now, I bid you help me up from this blasted bench. It is far too low for me to spring up the way you do.”
Catrin laughed and helped the old woman rise to her feet and put the staff in her grasping hand. Thanks to the salve, Catrin’s back only twinged a little with the movement. She waited until the Queen was steady on her feet once more.
Eira patted her cheek. “Do as you have always done at mid-summer, child. Do not give Ianto more reason to watch you. Do not give him any reason to think you may have powers which threaten him.”
“But I do not!”
“Yet you let him think you knew about mid-summer because of magic, just now. You did not speak of measuring shadows, as you do.”
“He gave me no chance to explain.”
“Nor will he ever. Ianto is a mage. Magic is all he knows. It gave him his position in my husband’s court. He will not deal with sensible, practical facts. Once I have gone, what protection you have against that drunken, womanizing fool will go, too. Learn to hide from his attention.”
Catrin nodded, for they were wise words. “I will.”
So? What do you think?
The Love & Legends anthology, of which this story is included, will be released on August 17th, (which is Black Cat Day).
It is already available for pre-order.
Pre-Order Love and Legends Now!Alas, because I am not the publisher for this one, you can’t buy it directly from me, nor can I give you your copy a week early. But, release day is only two weeks from today!
Cheers,
July 30, 2021
It’s the Second Last Day of the Month, and that means…
It’s sale time!
For those of you who are new to the blog and the email list,
Hello! And Welcome!Every month, on the last two days of the month and the first two days of the next month, Stories Rule Press (SRP) holds a 20% off sale. Sometimes it’s a different sort of sale, but most months, it’s 20% across the board on every book and story they have available, including stuff already on sale, and also including boxed sets (of which there are many).Everything.
There are genuinely no restrictions on this. You can use the coupon multiple times while the sales is on, you can give it to friends, you can stuff your shopping basket full. It’s all good.
The coupon you need to use at the checkout to apply the 20% discount is:
REUG4SSU
Copy and paste this into the coupon box on the checkout page.
To start browsing the books, click here. ON this page, you can sort and filter the books by categories, best sellers, etc., and hone in on what you want from there.
All the SRP books are delivered by BookFunnel, so if you know how to load BookFunnel books onto your reader, you can buy from SRP and you won’t have any technical issues…or if you do, BookFunnel are great at sorting things out.
.fusion-button.button-1 {border-radius:2px;}.fusion-button.button-1 .fusion-button-text {text-transform:uppercase;}Shop Now @ SRP!Enjoy your shopping!
Tracy
July 29, 2021
Why I Envy You
Thank the stars the heat has eased, here in Alberta! It was a tough couple of weeks.
If you are purely a reader of fiction, and not at all a writer, then 1) I envy you a little. I was a huge reader when I was younger, before the writing thing really grabbed me. I loved stories of all types, across all genres. I was an omnivore with a huge appetite and, back then, with a lot of time to spare to read. Later, when I began to write and learn how to put stories together, a little of the magic of stories was lost. I started to spot the wheels and pulleys behind the scene. While I love writing and am deeply grateful I get to do it for a living, I sometimes miss the magical journeys that stories used to take me on.
And 2) you may not know that writers, when they’re writing, can get into a state called “flow”– this is where all externalities fall away, and they’re fully immersed in the story. For me, when I reach that state, nothing exists except the story. It is all I see and hear. I don’t notice that I’m typing. I don’t notice the passing of time. This is why I love writing. Being in a flow state and living the story…well, there’s no other experience than comes close to that sensation. (Which is why I only envy pure readers just a little.)
When I was writing The Lavender Semaphore, I was reminded yet again of how powerful that flow state can be. The day I was reminded of this, it was 38C (100F) here in Alberta and my basement office was hot, still and uncomfortable.
But I was writing a scene where it was the middle of the night, cold and damp and uncomfortable…and I shivered as I wrote it.
The Lavender Semaphore was released this morning and is now available everywhere. See if you feel the grit and grime and coldness of Edwardian London in the middle of the night, too.
Lady Adelaide leads a double life that sits ill with her…
In Edwardian Britain, Lady Adelaide Azalea Margaret de Morville, Mrs. Hugh Becket, finds her work for William Melville, spymaster, clashes with the life her society friends believe her to be leading. Her guilt rises when her very dear friend, Isa Hass, arrives from Cape Town and asks questions Adele cannot answer.
When a homeless urchin, Charlie Rowbottom, hands a note written in German code over to Adele, she struggles to keep her true nature separated from her position in society while she searches for the writer of the note.
This novelette is the fourth in the Adelaide Becket Edwardian espionage series.
1: The Requisite Courage
2: The Rosewater Debutante
3: The Unaccompanied Widow
4: The Lavender Semaphore
…and more to come.
A historical suspense espionage novelette.
Buy From Me @ SRP!
Buy from your favorite retailer!
July 15, 2021
Historical Suspense Excerpt — the latest Lady Adelaide installment!
The historic heat wave which hovered over the northwest of the continent last week taught me two things:
After twenty-five years, I’ve thoroughly acclimitized to the Canadian seasons. The 39C (102F) we suffered through on Canada Day was simply awful. Canadian houses are built to hold heat, not shed it. There’s no afternoon sea breeze to provide any relief, and daylight (and the heat) lasts until near midnight at this time of year. Trying to sleep is a joke. I’ve never sweated so much in my life.
I still hate the heat. Didn’t like it in Australia. Really don’t like it now.
The experts are saying this is not the last time we’ll be hit by historic highs. So we’ll have to devise better ways of getting through such days, in the future. I’m thinking vine-covered pergolas shading the house, windows that can be opened to encourage cross-breezes, and an extra fan. Mark is thinking air conditioning.
Maybe all of the above.
In the meantime, we’re two weeks out from the release of the next story in the Adelaide Becket historical suspense series, The Lavender Semaphore, so I’m providing a good chunk of the start of the book, as usual.
Excerpt
EXCERPT FROM
THE LAVENDER SEMAPHORE
COPYRIGHT © TRACY COOPER-POSEY 2021
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Queens Street, Mayfair. September 8, 1907.
At first, Adele thought a homeless waif had used her kitchen door as a bed. She had slept late because of the previous evening’s events, and was still barely awake when she slipped down to the kitchen just past nine o’clock in the morning. The cathedral and church bells had fallen mercifully silent, although they had stirred her enough she could not simply turn over and go back to sleep.
She took off the bar to the outer door, intending to collect the day’s milk bottle from the step. She turned the handle, and the door whooshed inward, pushed by a weight against it.
The weight fell onto the painted concrete floor, making Adele gasp and step back, pulling her peignoir hem out of the way. The small child had been curled up, his dirty shoulder against the door. Now he lay on the concrete, blinking up at Adele through sleep-fogged eyes, his face dirt-smeared. He smelled of dampness and desperate circumstances. Adele realized that even though she knew the boy, and he had propped himself against her door for a reason other than sleep, in one respect there was, indeed, a homeless lad using her doorstep as a very uncomfortable mattress.
“Charlie Rowbottom, what are you doing, sleeping there?” she demanded.
Charlie rubbed his eyes, which merely redistributed the dirt around them. “I woz ‘oping you’d read this to me, tell me if it’s werf anyfing.” He held up a scrap of paper in his other fist. “Figured it might be werf a bit o’ milk, maybe.” He looked up at her with large blue eyes and blinked.
Adele tried to harden her heart against such blatant manipulation, but failed. “Oh, get up off the floor, you fool of a child. Come in and tell me about it.”
Charlie grinned and scrambled to his feet.
Adele poured Charlie a glass of milk from the new bottle she retrieved from the other side of the step Charlie had been sitting upon. She considered it a small miracle the bottle had still been there, and untouched.
Then, because the small glass of milk disappeared almost instantly, Adele added a hunk of cheese to a bread plate, then hacked off two thick slices of bread from yesterday’s loaf. She refilled the milk glass. Charlie set to with gusto.
Adele didn’t try to interrupt his meal. Instead, she got the stove burning, made herself a pot of tea and toasted another slice of bread over the flames. She put the butter and a pot of marmalade on the worktable between the two of them, drew her peignoir in around her and settled on the other chair.
Charlie burped and reached eagerly for the marmalade.
She rested a finger on the lid of the pot, holding it down. “Now you say ‘pardon me’.”
“Pardon moi.” He tilted his head, smiling impishly.
Adele estimated that he was around ten years of age, and a small, delicate ten, at that. But he was quick and smart, and if he’d been granted an education, she was sure he would have succeeded magnificently.
He had no parents and could only remember his mother in the vaguest of terms. His little sister had died of tuberculosis a year ago, while confined to a sanitorium. Visiting her there had sufficiently demonstrated to Charlie that any form of authority was not to be trusted, and institutions were to be avoided at all costs. Adele had only suggested once that he might be more comfortable in an orphanage. His derision, and the fear driving it, had left him trembling. She hadn’t spoken of it again.
Charlie liked to sleep in Spa Fields, in Clerkenwell. “Softer dirt,” he’d observed with appalling practicality. Where he spent the rest of his day was dictated by the police constabulary’s routines and where the pickings were richest, which was how Charlie had first come to Adele’s attention.
He had attempted to filch her purse from inside her reticule—while she was carrying it, while strolling in Hyde Park. She had grabbed his wrist, made him drop the purse and, because she was offended by his thinness, she had marched him back to her house to feed him. She had wondered if she was setting herself up to become the child’s sole source of nourishment. Adele had watched him gobble down the remains of the meat pie from her supper, his other hand curved protectively around the plate, and decided it would not be such a terrible thing to have to provide for him from now on.
But Charlie was too afraid of grown-ups, even those who fed him. He had not returned until many weeks later, when early winter gripped the city with icy fingers. He did not come empty-handed, either. He had held out half-a-dozen leeks, with dirt still clinging to them. The Lord knew which private garden he’d dug them up from. Adele had taken them, then insisted she pay him in kind, and made him sit and eat everything she could find in her kitchen to spare.
She had fed Charlie several times since, always after accepting whatever payment he had managed to scrounge up. He had survived the winter. Summer had come and was now going. But another winter lay just around the corner.
Adele let go of the marmalade. “Tell me about the paper you found,” she said, as Charlie used his fingers to dig the marmalade out of the pot. She picked up her knife, took the pot from him and showed him how to spread the marmalade on his bread.
“The paper’s got writing all over it.” Charlie dug into his trouser pocket and withdrew the paper once more and put it on the table beside his bread plate.
“May I look at it?” she asked, and returned his slice of bread to his plate.
He nodded, took a huge bite out of the bread and chewed.
Adele wiped her fingers on a napkin, and picked up the note. It was a narrow strip of paper and had curled up on itself in a loose scroll. It had been crumpled from Charlie’s pocket, but it did not have any sharp folds in it.
She spread the note out, turned it around so the handwriting was the right way up, and examined it. The letters had been written in normal black ink, with a broad nib.
Sehr geehrte Frau Dr; the note began.
Adele drew in a sharp breath. She attempted to cover up the telling sound by stirring on her chair and looking at the note from several different angles, while her heart thudded heavily.
There was only one more line, and it was not German, as the salutation was. It was not English, either. It was an unbroken line of letters. Quite ordinary letters, but they made no sense whatsoever.
“Charlie, where did you get this?” She tried to sound unconcerned.
Charlie lowered the bread, wariness building in his face. “Nowhere.”
“You certainly didn’t pick this up on the street. It’s far too clean. And it wasn’t in an envelope, for it hasn’t been folded. It has been rolled, instead. I can’t think of a single situation where a note of this kind would be rolled and left out where just anyone could come across it.”
Charlie shrugged, his gaze on the knife as he dropped marmalade onto his second slice of bread.
“Charlie, this is important,” Adele said. “The note…” She hesitated. “You must tell me, Charlie. It’s possible that…well, you may have stumbled into some trouble over it.”
Charlie’s gaze met hers. He understood trouble. Then he shook his head. “Nah, no bother’ll come of it. It was in a milk bottle, see?”
She sat back. “A milk bottle?”
He nodded, chewing quickly. “Funny sort of milk bottle, too. Thought it was full, ‘til I took the lid off. Blasted thing was empty.”
That was why he’d tried to sell the note for milk. He’d thought he’d successfully stolen someone else’s milk from a milk bottle holder sitting on a doorstep.
“The inside was painted, to look like milk?” Adele asked, keeping her tone light.
Charlie nodded again. “Note was inside it. You like funny stuff, ‘n you can read, so…”
She kept her gaze on the note. “And it was the only full bottle in the holder? The other bottles were empty?”
“That’s why I took it. You know somethin’ about this, then?”
“I’m guessing, Charlie.” She looked at him squarely. “It doesn’t sound very good,” she said gently.
“What doesn’t sound very good?” came the enquiry from the kitchen door.
Adele let the note roll up, pushed it into her pocket, put a smile on her face and turned to the door. “Isa, you’re up. Just in time for tea.” She stood and gestured to her chair. “Toast and marmalade?”
Isa Hess was a woman of about Adele’s age and height, but while Adele was dark haired, Isa had golden-white hair and fine Aryan features, including crystalline blue eyes. She had been Adele’s dearest friend when Adele had lived in Cape Town. Finding Isa standing at her front door two days ago had been a wonderful surprise. Adele had insisted Isa stay with her while she was in London, and had spent the last two days and evenings showing Isa her beloved city.
Isa slid onto the chair, yawning hard. She smiled at Charlie. “Hello.”
Charlie didn’t smile. “‘ello.”
“You aren’t what I expected to find at the breakfast table.” Isa’s English was very good. She had barely any accent.
Charlie shrugged and picked up the glass of milk.
“This is Charlie, Isa.” Adele slid a fresh cup and saucer in front of Isa, and set about toasting more bread.
“So, what doesn’t sound very good, that you were talking about when I came in?” Isa asked Charlie.
Adele’s heart leapt about as she tried to find an answer she could give Isa, before Charlie said anything.
Charlie gave another shrug. “Lady Adelaide don’t like me sleepin’ in the park.” He scowled at Adele. “Keeps naggin’ me to go t’the orphanage.”
Adele focused on flipping the bread before it burned, while relief spread cool fingers through her middle.
“Oh dear, no, that does not sound very good at all,” Isa said. “You are an orphan, Charlie?”
“Don’t ‘ave no mum or dad,” Charlie said, his tone implying that he was disputing his status as an orphan.
“I see,” Isa said diplomatically.
Charlie pushed the empty bread plate away from him and jumped up from the table. “May I go, my Lady?” His tone was polite, the question was what Adele had told him was the correct way to leave the table.
Adele would much rather have Charlie stay where he was, so she could interview him more thoroughly, but she couldn’t do that with Isa in the house. Reluctantly, she said, “Yes, Charlie. You may go. It was good to see you again.”
“Thank you for the milk!” Charlie strained up on his toes to reach the high handle, and hauled the door open. He slipped out and the door shut again with a soft click.
Adele put the finished toast on a fresh plate, and put it in front of Isa. She took Charlie’s chair and pulled her own barely touched toast toward her. She refilled her teacup and added milk.
“You are rather a dark horse, Adele,” Isa said, picking up her own cup. “Here was I thinking you were the most proper Englishwoman I’d ever come across, while you are feeding homeless boys who come to your kitchen door.”
Lady Adelaide leads a double life that sits ill with her…
In Edwardian Britain, Lady Adelaide Azalea Margaret de Morville, Mrs. Hugh Becket, finds her work for William Melville, spymaster, clashes with the life her society friends believe her to be leading. Her guilt rises when her very dear friend, Isa Hass, arrives from Cape Town and asks questions Adele cannot answer.
When a homeless urchin, Charlie Rowbottom, hands a note written in German code over to Adele, she struggles to keep her true nature separated from her position in society while she searches for the writer of the note.
This novelette is the fourth in the Adelaide Becket Edwardian espionage series.
1: The Requisite Courage
2: The Rosewater Debutante
3: The Unaccompanied Widow
4: The Lavender Semaphore
…and more to come.
A historical suspense espionage novelette.
Get your copy a week early
And don’t forget that if you buy your copy directly from me (at the SRP site), you get your copy a week early. That is, next Thursday.
Buy From Me @ SRP!
Buy from your favorite retailer!
Stay cool and well!
July 1, 2021
Happy Canada Day! And a new fantasy romance anthology!
It’s Canada Day, and there will be fireworks tonight–only here in Edmonton, the daylight lasts until close to midnight, so the fireworks are very late in the evening.
Too late for moi, alas. Mark and I get up very early in the morning, so we can get to our desks and write before most of the rest of the world has had its first cup of coffee. It cuts down on the interruptions, which can be deadly when you’re smack in the middle of writing a fantastic scene.
There have been a lot of interruptions lately–family get togethers, birthday parties, vaccinations. We’ve re-shingled the roof of the house (it’s now a lovely grey, which does not match the rest of the house — yet), and there are other renovations scheduled for over the summer.
That means writing time will be steadily interrupted all summer, as we’re doing a lot of the work ourselves. And that means that Canada Day is not a holiday for us. We have to get ahead!
Although, more positive news: As of today, most of the COVID-19 restrictions have been lifted in our province. No more masks at the supermarket! Yay!!
More news: I have a story appearing in a fantasy & paranormal romance anthology coming out in August.
Discover the legends of the British Isles and fall in love with witches, ghosts, shifters and more in this collection of paranormal, fantasy, and urban fantasy romance from bestselling authors.
Whether it’s haunted castles, witches, or hidden demons, there’s something for everyone within the pages of Love & Legends.
If you dare discover the spooky goings-on of British Legends, one-click for your copy of this limited edition anthology.
Including brand new stories from:
New York Times Bestselling Author, Margo Bond Collins
New York Times Bestselling Author, Cristina Rayne
USA Today Bestselling Author, Skye MacKinnon
USA Today Bestselling Author, Laura Greenwood
USA Today Bestselling Author, Arizona Tape
USA Today Bestselling Author, Ann Gimpel
USA Today Bestselling Author, Anthea Sharp
USA Today Bestselling Author, Zoey Indiana
USA Today Bestselling Author, Tina Glasneck
USA Today Bestselling Author, Bec McMaster
USA Today Bestselling Author, Demelza Carlton
Joely Sue Burkhart
Tracy Cooper-Posey
Mia Harlan & Hanleigh Bradley
Gemma Cates
TB Mann
Meredith Medina
K. R. Max
Lili Black
Fans of my Once and Future Hearts series will be pleased to know that my story is part of that series. I don’t have a title right now (I’ll be writing it very close to the deadline as I’ve had a summer of interruptions, so far), and neither do I have a full description yet.
The story is set in Maridunum (which is modern day Carmarthen) in Wales, which in my series is the birthplace of Merlin. I was assigned the legend of the Maen Llia stone for my story, which is not far from Maridunum, which made it impossible to not make the story part of the Arthurian series. And yes, Merlin is part of the story, too.
If you’ve not yet started the series, you can still enjoy this story, but reading the rest of the series will give it a very deep backstory and history for you. It comes after Downfall of Cornwall in the series.
When I have the blurb for the story, I’ll add the story to the series page.
The Love and Legends anthology is now available for pre-order at all the major retailers.
Enjoy!
June 29, 2021
It’s the Second Last Day of the Month, and that means…
It’s sale time!
For those of you who are new to the blog and the email list,
Hello! And Welcome!Every month, on the last two days of the month and the first two days of the next month, Stories Rule Press (SRP) holds a 20% off sale. Sometimes it’s a different sort of sale, but most months, it’s 20% across the board on every book and story they have available, including stuff already on sale, and also including boxed sets (of which there are many).Everything.
There are genuinely no restrictions on this. You can use the coupon multiple times while the sales is on, you can give it to friends, you can stuff your shopping basket full. It’s all good.
The coupon you need to use at the checkout to apply the 20% discount is:
BD8DBT6V
Copy and paste this into the coupon box on the checkout page.
To start browsing the books, click here. ON this page, you can sort and filter the books by categories, best sellers, etc., and hone in on what you want from there.
All the SRP books are delivered by BookFunnel, so if you know how to load BookFunnel books onto your reader, you can buy from SRP and you won’t have any technical issues…or if you do, BookFunnel are great at sorting things out.
.fusion-button.button-1 {border-radius:2px;}.fusion-button.button-1 .fusion-button-text {text-transform:uppercase;}Shop Now @ SRP!Enjoy your shopping!
Tracy
June 12, 2021
Do You Like Hardcover Books? Want Some Of Mine?
I have an opportunity to make case hardcover editions of my books available. Which sounds fantastic…if you like hardcovers!
There’s an image of a case hardcover book, above. They’re the hardcovers that have the cover image printed right onto them, instead of onto a loose cover wrap (and I *hate* those!).
Of course, the hardcovers are slightly more expensive than the trade paperbacks I currently publish.
(And if you didn’t know I publish print editions, you can find links to each print edition at the bottom of the buy buttons on every book’s page on my site–or on Amazon.)
There’s also a cost for me to set the hardcovers up, so I thought I would ask you:
Would you be interested in acquiring hardcover copies of my books?
Which books or series would you buy first?
Hit reply and let me know your preferences. I’ll collate your responses and figure out which books and series I should put into hardcover first. Or none at all!
Enjoy!
June 3, 2021
A Book-Lined Room of One’s Own
A woman must have money and a room of her own if she is to write fiction.
–Virginia Woolf.
I have always loved images of rooms with book-stuffed shelves. They appeal to the reader and the writer in me. For a great many years–decades, in fact–I dreamed about working in an office that was lined with bookshelves.
As messy as a room like this looks, it still makes my heart stir as I imagine exploring all the books on the shelves to find new and new-to-me authors and stories.
My office, I wanted to look something like this:
The only thing is, I don’t buy print books anymore, and the ones I did have are either falling apart, or I’ve replaced them with ebooks. Or both.
So the dream of a bookshelf-lined office has faded a bit. These days, I’m leaning toward something like this:
There’s far fewer physical books, but lots of my “stuff” on display.
This is not my actual office, by the way. But Mark and I are heading into a couple of years of renovations, and my office is on the list, so who knows what I’ll end up with?
We’ll see.
Years and years ago, before we all smartened up and learned about copyright for images, everyone used to take whatever image they wanted from the Internet, wherever they found it. One of the images I stole was of a public library that, even now, snatches my breath away whenever I see it:
All those books!
All that history!
I featured this image and others of the same library on my blog for years, but stopped using it once I learned about copyright for images.
Fast forward to early in 2021, when I was plotting out the story for The Unaccompanied Widow. I was working out how to introduce a new character into the story, a man with strong political opinions. I tested out several occupations for such a man, to see how that would shape him. One of those occupations was university professor, so I did a bit of quick research into Dublin University and Trinity College, as the story is set in Ireland.
And learned that the library I’ve drooled over for years is right there in Trinity College!
Done. My new character absolutely had to be a professor at the college, and I absolutely had to set a scene in the library itself.
Oh, I had fun with that scene!
The Unaccompanied Widow was released early this morning!
Lady Adelaide is on her own…
In Edwardian Britain, Lady Adelaide Azalea Margaret de Morville, Mrs. Hugh Becket, continues her work for William Melville, spymaster. Adele accompanies King Edward and Queen Alexandra to Dublin where the King will attend the Irish International Exhibition. Events go awry even before they depart England, for the Irish Crown Jewels are stolen and King Edward takes the theft as a personal insult to the Crown.
Then the renowned Irish MP, Eilish Slane, who is a personal friend of the King’s, is found murdered in a Dublin hotel. Adel attempts to investigate while navigating the shoals of the King’s temper, the actions of Irish Nationalists, the provocations of the British and Irish press, and the prejudices of men everywhere. And she must work alone, for Melville and his cohorts remain in England…
This novelette is the third in the Adelaide Becket Edwardian espionage series.
1: The Requisite Courage
2: The Rosewater Debutante
3: The Unaccompanied Widow
…and more to come.
A historical suspense espionage novelette.
Buy From Me @ SRP!
Buy from your favorite retailer!
Enjoy!
