Shehanne Moore's Blog, page 14
September 11, 2017
Interview with a Kleptomaniac
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https://cookandenjoyrecipes.wordpress.com/2017/09/03/guest-20-cookingn-books/
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[image error] Topaz…. Whot me? Why would I do that? I ain’t no bleedin’ thief. I’m a kleptomaniac.
Topaz…Someone whot steals pure’n simple, cos they can’t help it, see? [image error][image error] [image error]
Topaz. Sez who? Course it ain’t. I’ve sworn off nickin’. It’s just that nickin’ ain’t sworn off me. See it’s like Splendor’n shoppin’. I gets a thrill so I does it even when she tells me ter stop cos there’s posters up everywhere and it ain’t exactly her face whot’s on ’em either. I does it no matter whot. [image error]Topaz . To my shame, I admits, I even robbed Splen’s squeeze Kenny. Fine gentleman ‘e was an’ so koind, nuffin’ loike she said. Puttin me hand in ‘is pocket was a real thrill I tells yer. Wouldn’t ‘ave ‘alf moinded puttin’ it in more. Then there was the brandy ‘e puts in ‘is mornin’ coffee. Figured I was doin’ ‘im a favour there. Wouldn’t loike ter see ‘im droppin’ down wif some disease cos ‘he stuffs ‘is face wif booze steadah food first thing in the mornin’ now, would yer? She went titz about it, cos he went titz wif her, but given that business of her runnin’ up debts ter keep me out of Newgate, I looked on it as my altruistic duty ter return the compliment.
Topaz. That depends doan’ it? I means if I can steal ‘un now, get the ingredients an’ whot not. I might.
Topaz . Death.
Topaz. You ain’t pretty enough. Nah, the moon is whot I’m after.
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https://shehannemoore.wordpress.com/the-starkadder-sisterhood-london-jewel-thieves/
https://shehannemoore.wordpress.com/sundries/the-starkadder-sisters-jewel-thief-quiz/
Extract…….a sort or rapid downturn in Splendor’s fortunes extract.
“When all’s said and done, it beats old woman Hanney’s. Beats sittin’ in this wreck, now Gabe’s gone and left us flat. Unless you want me going back ter stealing? I mean I could, I suppose.”
As Topaz studied the rotting fence posts at the sides of the ditch, as if they were next for pocketing, Splendor fought to bite her tongue. Topaz had never stopped.
“I take it when you use that word wreck, yor meaning some other vehicle an’ not Clitherow’s fine lookin’ trap.” O’Taggart clicked his tongue.
“Long as I ain’t meanin’ yer damned, bleedin’ trap, what does it bleedin’ matter?”
Splendor smothered a shriek as O’Taggart brought the whip down on the nag’s back as if he wished it were Topaz’s. The jolt sent them both flying upward, then down onto the wooden plank, straddling the cart.
“That’s it. That’s it, me old cuddy. Take yor time, me faithful nag, and you’ll soon get there.”
“It’s taken three hours to travel two miles,” Stillmore growled, nudging his black gelding closer. “Do you think you could possibly hurry it along? I should like to be at Catterton House sometime this week if that’s not a trouble to you.”
“You are not the only one, sor. But Clitherow will only do as Clitherow can do. She doesn’t take kindly to complaints.”
“That’s a pity when the list is ten yards long.”
“And Oih must say, Oih don’t either.”
“Then that makes two of us. Three if that blasted nag doesn’t fall down dead
first.”
“Pity ’e wouldn’t do the bleedin’ same.” Topaz smoothed her cape shut. “’Ow
rich would that make yer?”
“If I had married him. But I didn’t.”
“So ’ow the bleedin’ hell does he think ’e can get the divorce courts ter agree ter a divorce then? Commit ’igh treason?”
Somehow Splendor managed to cinch her lips.
“If I agree, he’s going to say the parson was not ordained.”
“Thing is, I don’t know why yer agreed.”
She didn’t answer, and Topaz continued. “Look, we got ’is watch, we could pawn it. There’s plenty more where that come from.”
“And that’s the problem. If you’d left it where it came from…” She lowered her voice. Horses had ears. Their masters too.
“But it were pretty.”
“Will you stop it?”
Pray God, Stillmore took her screech as one of agony as the cart lurched over another stone, almost catapulting her onto the floor. In truth, she felt like screeching, screeching to the high heavens. What was it Papa always said, especially during these first days in the Marshalsea? Nothing is ever so far beyond your reach, you should worry about it.
“And I still don’t see why yer agreed ter it,” Topaz whispered.
“I told you I never agreed straight off. All right?”
She was not going to tell Topaz about the business with Lady Kertouche. She’d sooner cut off her hand. Papa had said that too. Just tell people as much as they need to hear and will make you feel better. She sighed.
“But if you must know it was because I didn’t see how the bloody hell else I was to get you out of there with your picture all over the walls.”
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The only thing he hates more than losing at chess is marriage…
For Splendor, former servant to the London’s premiere jewel thieves, pretending to be someone else is all in a day’s work. So when she learns of a chess tournament—a men’s chess tournament—with a ten thousand pound prize, pretending to be a man is the obvious move. The money will be enough to set her fiancé up in his own business so they can finally marry, and more importantly, it’ll pay off her bills and keep her out of debtor’s prison. But she doesn’t plan on her opponent, the rakish Kendall Winterborne, Earl Stillmore, being a sore loser—and a drunken one, at that. But before she can collect her prize, she finds herself facing the most merciless man in London across a pair of dueling pistols at dawn. Chess may be Splendor’s game, but she’s never fired a pistol. And dressed as a man with ill-fitting shoes on the slippery grass and borrowed glasses that make it hard to see, she’s certain she’s finally tipped her own king.
Bitter divorcee Kendall Winterborne, Earl Stillmore, is the ton’s most ruthless heartbreaker. And he’s got three pet peeves: kitchen maids, marriage…and losing. So when he realizes the “man” opposite him has entered the chess tournament under false pretenses, he’s in the perfect position to extort the little chit. But that’s before the exasperating woman begins to slip beneath his skin, and soon all he can think about is slipping beneath her skirts. But the confounded woman is engaged to someone else, and worse—she’s nothing but a former kitchen maid, just like the one that lured his father into the marriage that ruined the family name. And his ex-wife taught him more than he cared to know about why marriage was the worst kind of checkmate of all…
Filed under: blogging, book tour, heroines, Romance Tagged: Etopia Press, Kleptomania, London Jewel thieves, Shehanne Moore, Splendor, Topaz
September 3, 2017
There’s Reviews and There’s even more of Robin’s Reviews.
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The photograph depicts a sense of
danger and intrigue, in that the
stereoview device is looking
like a weapon and the gold
gloves look ominous. The
positions are accurately
depicting the foreboding
sense one gets reading
about Lady Malice’s
business of meddling
into affairs of
the
Heart.
When the case she
is requested to take on
involves breaking up her own
marriage: Watch out, folks!
This book I had the delight
and honor reading is called,
“The Viking and the Courtesan.”
Shehanne has done it again.
It is quite exciting and uniquely
plotted where a woman who has
a certain lifestyle stands a chance of
losing it all over another pretty
woman’s interest in her husband.
Lady Malice has her business to
carry her through destitute times,
where she is hired to bring in a
woman of the evening to besmirch
and defame the marriage of one
who needs “proof” of this to
get a divorce. Aptly named,
“Strictly Business” keeps
her in fashionable gowns
and Madame Faro’s shoes,
~ * Silver shoes with
pearl-encrusted
buckles, perhaps? * ~
I won’t reveal immediately the
unseemly circumstances, but
must proceed to entreat you
to set aside your distate for
unfaithfulness and hope
for the best! Shoes are her
passion which isn’t at
all distasteful. One parlour
subject matter for women of
breeding and social standing
should help you to rally and
cheer on Lady Malice’s behalf.
A twist revealed on the book cover,
should appeal to adventurous readers
who wish they could travel back in time.
But. . . would you wish to visit or stay
in the ancient year of 898 A.D.?
Incredulously, such a plotline
is designed to transport you
there, becoming attracted
to Sinarr, whose nickname
appropriately is “Sin.”
Imagine a Thor-like
ruggedly handsome,
physically fit man.
He is the proud owner of two
Viking ships, the Raven
and the Reindeer.
Horrors, dear Malice
is found amongst nuns,
when rousing from a foggy
recollection of kissing her
husband, Cyril, in one time frame
only to find her becoming a “bed slave”
in another more rough, primitive time.
She is meant to become a “wedge”
between Sinarr’s betrothed,
“Snotra” and marriage.
Snotra has humiliated Sinarr,
having twice taken another man’s
name in marriage, only to be
finally available (deaths). Sin
wants her to suffer and wait,
while he pretends to bed her,
taking advantage of Malice’s
1800’s knowledge of romance,
or practical lack of. . .
(A side note: don’t you love these
Viking, vividly rich character names?)
Will Malice once transported back
to correct period in time, miss
wild, passionate Sinarr?
Will she find her love in the
arms of her dear husband again?
There are many humorous situations
with nuns wishing to become
“bed slaves,” while one who
is heavy is called Gentle and
the head nun is Mother Bede.
Finally, Lady Malice finds herself
in not only a quandary about which
time and place she wants to exist in,
she also realizes she is in the ~
“Family Way.”
How embarassing and who
will she choose to be the father?
The story flows along with telltale
items and household details which
are distinctly recognizable for
each historical period.
Both pigs and bed slaves
in Viking cottages create
a funny and fume-filled setting.
The 19th century tea pots, cracked
windowpanes and rustling satin gowns
would hardly seem to be a contest
as to which would be preferable!
Shehanne Moore’s exciting,
romantic historical novel
has just the change of
pace style to keep you
reading as quickly as
you are able, to find out the
surprising and yet, satisfying ending
for Lady Malice Mallender.
Cyril’s story ends as quite modern
in its libertarian point of view.
Sinarr’s story concludes with as
much force and vigor as
Thor’s famous hammer
may thrust. . .
Or so, we hope!
This book is rated
five diamonds out
of five diamonds.
:::::::::::
Photo is taken by reocochran,
Items depicting an era which
Lady Malice started her
adventures out in.
We used to call
postcard viewing device
a “stereoptican.” My
research found out we had
mislabeled this wooden antique.
“Well, I…I do want a divorce but only because… I mean only so…”
“You can marry her for her money?”
“Malice…I am vexed you think so little of me that I would do that and set the law on you into the bargain…”
Her heart began to pound so loudly it drowned the strains of the Haydn minuet drifting through the open doors. After all these years. Years in which she had waited. Abandoned hope in. Lived like a drudge at times on a penurious income. She had him at a disadvantage. She reached inside her reticule.
“So you can live in a state you should like to become accustomed to? Ruining her as you have me?”
“Well, the thing is, the thing was, I had no choice regarding the law. That woman you sent to do whatever she was meant to do, she let you down badly.”
“Really?
“I’m sure that your other ladies aren’t so workshy. Why, your business came highly recommended.”
She unfolded the square of gauze. His expression as she placed the square on her head then arranged it over her face was worth a king’s ransom. “That woman was me.”
Every scrap of color drained from his face. Not that there had been a great deal to start with. There never was. It was one of his many attractions, what gave him that boyish look at the age of thirty.
“You?”
“Yes Cyril.”
“Y-you mean… Well, Malice.” Give him his dues, his recovery was excellent. But then it had every reason to be. “May I say how very—”
“You may say nothing. But I will say I think we will agree there will be no divorce. How can there be when we are so very happy, so joyous together?”
“I don’t—”
“That I am having your child?”
“What?”
Was it any wonder his eyes widened? Widened so the wonder was they didn’t pop clean out his head and ping about the paving slabs? She tilted her chin. If there was ever a doubt she shouldn’t do this, that moment was past. What was he going to do? Have it all over London his wife ran a marriage wrecking business? That he was a cad who stole from the woman he had abandoned? Hardly. No, the man was a leech she would do well to stay married to. And one who would support her from now on.
“Yes, husband dearest. From that night, the one that was so special to both of us.”
“That’s a damned lie. That night you disappeared. Vanished right before my eyes. I shut them for a second. One second only and poof.” He snapped his fingers. Indeed, his face had contorted with such rage, the only wonder was he didn’t snap more with his fingers, he didn’t snap her neck. “If it was so damned special how come I don’t remember the first damned thing about it?”
Filed under: blogging, Book review, book tour, Romance, time travel Tagged: Book review, Regency, The Viking and The Courtesan, Time-travel, Vikings, Witless Dating After Fifty
August 28, 2017
Interview with a Shopaholic.
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[image error] [image error]Stillmore -Exist? You are looking at one.
Splendor. Don’t talk about yourself like that, darling.
Stillmore. I’m not talking about me.
Splendor. Well, I hope you are not talking about me. But to answer your question, dear little dudes.
Oh. I never let the question of being able to afford something worry me. No No. And you know Shehanne loosely based part of the story on Cinderella. You would make the most marvelous mice.
How edifying for you all. Well, the thing is there is no such thing as a shopping addiction. It is all quite easily explained. Clothes, fans, stockings, petticoats are things I have a notion of when I am unhappy. Also they are unhappy too. Why should something that nice, that beautiful, be made to feel neglected? Well?
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Splendor. Sorry? Yes. Yes, of course. Well I have to buy things because if I hadn’t, for example bought a lot of these items I bought when I didn’t have the money to buy things, my friend Topaz, who is a member of the Starkadder Sisterhood–thieves, in other words– would have stolen these things for me. She is a kleptomaniac. Keeping her out of Newgate was of the utmost importance to me. It would have cost the state a fortune to hang or transport her. I saved them money. Just think of the service you are doing for others every time you treat yourself to something nice.[image error]
Splendor . I did say she’s a kleptomaniac. Unlike her, you need to think of what you resist. The three pairs of cherry-patterned stockings I bought on one occasion might seem excessive. But not when set against the fact I never bought the silk chemise. I wanted to but I didn’t. It made me feel so much better that I had bought the stockings.
Splendor – and did I say it’s less to carry especially when you may feel you have over spent and your palms are sweating?
‘The white silk had been a necessity when he wanted her to accompany him to that supper party, the small, simple event given by some dear friend of Lady Kertouche’s.
Why he had insisted on attending when he never ate anything had not only been beyond her comprehension, it had been so far beyond her pocket that buckets of sweat glazed her palms just thinking about it.’
Splendor – Goodness yes. How many did we say? Well, I suppose Stillmore got a little excited about it on more than one occasion. My going out shopping that was. [image error]
Largely because HE didn’t understand that I was saving him money. [image error]
It is a principle I am sure many are familiar with.
Splendor . Well, not if he’s anything like Stillmore, although people will see you are trying to do something about it. You can also try buying things that are reduced because people don’t like the design, so these things you get for a snip. I got a very nice day dress that way once. Again, what was I doing but giving a good home to something unloved?
Now lastly? Lastly let’s say you have found yourself in the situation of spending over the odds, perhaps for three, of one thing. I mean serious odds here. Well you just go out and you buy another three of a far cheaper version. That way although your round total may be more……… per item it is less if you do the division and see the logic. So three hamsters at 30 pounds a piece would be 90 pounds. But if I then bought another three at 2 pounds each, bringing the total to 96–pounds, not hamsters– then divided the total by 6, well, that is only 16 pounds each, which is sure to be acceptable to everyone. And that is only 3 at two pounds, if you buy more at two pounds, you will bring the individual total down even more.
Now then hammies while it’s been very nice chewing the fat with you all. I really much dash. Madame Renare’s shuts at five you know and she has the most divine silk gloves in her window it would be a terrible crime to leave them there.
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E[image error]xtract ..after a certain night in a certain barn in a certain thunderstorm …..
Lady Kertouche’s velvet-gloved hand wavered in the direction of the he, looking even more diabolical than usual if that were possible, dark stubble dusting his jaw and upper lip, his eyes sunk so far beneath his brows she would need a team with pickaxes to excavate them. And she had thought he quite liked Lady Kertouche.
“If you mean the cat, do say so, Violetta,” he said.
“Oh, not at all, Kendall. I merely…well…”
Or was it because Babs Langley stood there? Babs Langley, who she would die rather than look stupid before. And he would too. It must be. Suddenly she saw it. He didn’t know what to do.
“Oh, it is not what it looks.” In that second Splendor’s voice came to her. In fact, more than her voice came to her, breaking the awful morass holding her in slimy paws. “No, I do not know how you can think anything amiss.”
“Oh, my dear, I was not thinking—“
“His Grace and I eloped.”
“What?”
Lady Kertouche’s exclamation was arrested by the tray dropping from the earl’s hand and clanging off the ground, along with Lady Kertouche’s dropping jaw.
“Yes.” Splendor could see what a mistake it was to continue, but there was also the matter of the parties, the balls and the outings. So she did it anyway. These would grind to an immediate halt if it was known she had spent the night with a man in a barn. Besides, he could thank her for her genius later, just as she had him to thank for the ten thousand pounds that would make her continuance in that glittering world possible. “We…well, you know how it is, I am sure. We just decided to avoid all the fuss and then… Then there was the storm. It was so awful, it forced us to stop for the night.”
If the expression darkening his features was anything to go by, being forced to stop wasn’t the only thing that was awful. The idea to take her by the throat and put a stop to her was plainly running through his disordered head. When she had dug him out of a hole? What was wrong with it for goodness’ sake? Give him a second or so, and he would surely see the value of her claim. How it would inflame Babs Langley.
Besides, they could deny it, couldn’t they, when all the fuss had died down, and they were all back in London? A joke, whatever. So there really was no need for him to appear quite so mummified.
“Eloped?” Lady Kertouche was so beside herself her eyes matched her mouth in the soup bowl stakes. “My stars. Kendall… You?”
He tilted his jaw. Sparks glinted in his eyes.
“But Kendall, you don’t like… I mean, since Marietta you have been a confirmed bachelor.”
“Well.” His smile was so saturnine, it would have skinned lemons at forty paces had there been any on that tray. “There is a first time for everything. Or so it seems.”
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Filed under: blogging, heroines, Romance, writing Tagged: Character traits in writing, heroes, London jewel theives, Regency, Shehanne Moore, Shopaholics, Splendor, The Starkadder Sisterhood, writing
August 21, 2017
Fiona-Jane Brown, Aberdeen and a question of Hats
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FIona. Hello, dear hamster dudes! Yes, I am indeed, I’ve been running tours for 6 years now! But no, I’ve not ever thought of doing a hidden hamster tour.
Well, sadly, so far I’ve not found any record of hamsters doing anything significant in Aberdeen!
But, I’m sure they did! Just because things are not written down, doesn’t mean to say they didn’t happen! There were loads of secret tunnels and cellars they could have hidden in and witnessed some local dramas over the centuries – although they’d have to be careful of cats!
BUT, sadly hamsters did not arrive in Britain until 1939! You’ll love this though – the name hamster comes from a Persian (Iranian) word meaning “oppressor”!
It all started because I lost my dream job in Portsmouth as Conan Doyle Projects Officer! The funding was never renewed, so I just had to come back home. I decided there and then to never ever work for a council again, cos every council job I’ve ever had I’ve been made redundant from!
Anyway, I kinda started it even before I went to the south of England, as early as the spring of 2010, when I took a group of photographer friends around Old Aberdeen, which is where our main university campus is and has the oldest buildings in the city. At that time I had a job as curator for Grampian Police, so I got to indulge my interest in crime history – I planned to write a tour going round the sites of famous murders in the city, and when I came back in 2011, folk were like, “When are you doing this murder tour?” I wrote it up, put an event page on Facebook and 25 people turned up. It was scary! But folk liked it, so I kept doing it. I have 18 different routes now with 4 new ones planned for next year already. Basically, I take people around a set route and tell them stories about the different sites. I also do three routes which are “ghost tours” – which means that they are street theatre walks involving local actors who are playing real people from the past. That goes down very well. Tours involve a lot of writing to start with, then a lot of walking and talking!
Because, sadly, almost all of our historic buildings have been demolished and the folk in charge don’t seem to care! I have always wanted to know “what was there before” and take people back in time, if only in their imaginations. Our city was founded as a royal burgh in 1176 AD, but there’s evidence going away back to Neolithic times, so people have lived in the area for thousands of years. [image error]
Loads of them! But my real favourites are Johnny Milne, Aberdeen’s last executioner who only got the job because the city needed a hangman and it was a better alternative to being transported to Australia which he would have been as he had been arrested for stealing beehives from his employer. He had a bossy wife who made sure he took the job!
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Fiona-Jane meets Johnny Milne
I also love all the street characters who sold food, goods and generally made a nuisance of themselves, e.g. “Blin’ Bob”, aka Duncan McGillivray, a hawker who would make up all sorts of nonsense to sell anything. He once bought a stock of old newspapers at the time of the Crimean War, and sold them pretending they were current. He was accused of being a liar, but he said, “Aa newspapers print lees, so I should be allowed tae sell lees an aa!” I have a huge cast of characters in my head most of the time when I’m on a tour.
They vary! Every Halloween since 2011 I have put on a street theatre performance at a specific place featuring tragic, horrible and scary stories, that’s what the ghost tours came out of. One year when we did “Ghosts & Ghouls of the Aultoun” which goes round the uni area I mentioned earlier, we had fifty people on the tour, it was mad! It was also downright freezing! But folk love being scared. I think it’s because deep down they know it isn’t real, but they like the thrill of being scared in a safe way. I don’t dabble with real spooks! .
Last year we had our first indoor performance at the old medical school in Marischal College, it was called “Burkers, Bodysnatchers & Bloody Surgeons” featuring true and semi-fictionalised stories from the time of Burke & Hare, only in Aberdeen, it was the students themselves who would go and dig up bodies to dissect. There was also a storyline about two girls who disguised themselves as boys to study medicine as no woman was allowed near a university until 1891 in Aberdeen. It ends up with the two girls being found out and bumping off the lecturer who uncovers their secret – they are then helped to hide the body by the horrible, scary Sacrist Pirie, who already has his own trade in killing off Travelling people to sell to the surgeons! It was such hard work, but it was so impressive! To hear and see the cast bringing my work to life was fantastic, it’s the best compliment an author can have to see their work on stage exactly as they wrote it!
Oh I was writing about other things long before I wrote local history! I’ve actually been writing stories since I was about six years old! I got inspired by “The Little Match Girl” and after that I just seemed to come up with fantastical plots and characters.
Eventually I realised that it was easiest to write about things I knew, so the first novel I wrote was all about North-East fisher folk and it was published online in 2012.
Indeed, see above, I was employed as the project officer for the Lancelyn-Green Collection, one of the world’s biggest collections of books, artefacts and other ephemera about Arthur Conan Doyle. I’ve always liked Holmes since the Granada TV series and Jeremy Brett. My Mum bought me the complete Holmes short stories years ago and I devoured them! The reason that the collection was left to Portsmouth City Library is that ACD had his first medical practice in Southsea, which is the seaside bit of Portsmouth/Portsea Island (yes, it is an island, but joined to the mainland by a road now), and he got bored so he invented a detective based on his old tutor, Dr Joseph Bell, from Edinburgh who had taught him the skills of observation and deduction. Bell was a nicer man than Holmes though, and was married!
I have written a play and a novella featuring the traditional Victorian Holmes & Watson, but I also wrote a piece of fan-fiction about the BBC Holmes, which was great fun. I have a half-written novella called “The Riddle of the Dancing Dragons” which is Holmes again in his Victorian days, and features him and Watson going to visit a relative of John’s who has been looking after her two nieces. One of the girls is about to be married to a confectioner, but the younger sister can’t stand him. The relative also has an “adopted” son who we would probably describe as autistic in modern language, but he’s different, he’s detached from ordinary folk and Holmes is the first person to be able to talk to him. It promises to be a good one if I can ever get back in the right mindset for it!
Yup – my pen name is Janet Swan and I’ve self-published a novel “Of Fish & Folk”, a novella, which is a pastiche of Ian Rankin’s Rebus, but has a female police detective in Edinburgh called “All the Sinners Saints” and a poetry collection called “A Different Gunpowder Plot.
[image error] [image error]Hidden Aberdeen 2 – which would be my fourth history book with Black & White Publishing (if they accept it) and I’m in the middle of the sequel to “Of Fish & Folk” – also planning to write a new script for Halloween, and a special war-time performance set in a real concrete air raid shelter. I do hope you like your knitted hats – that’s one of my stress-busting hobbies, knitting! Love to you all and be kind to each other, thanks for inviting me onto the blog! Mwah! xxx[image error]
Connect with Fiona-Jane here
Find her on Amazon.co.uk here.
Filed under: Author Interviews, book tour, Scottish Tagged: Aberdeen, Aberdeen History, Aberdeen Tours, Fiona-Jane Brown, Hidden Aberdeen, History, Scotland
August 15, 2017
On the beast of Ballachulish and not falling down too much
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Destiny fought the images of barrels that bobbed into her head, not to finger the back of her neck either. Why did Lyon want to put her on the spot as if he knew damn fine who put these barrels there and that person was not Divers O’Roarke? She had thought there would be nothing to this. She had thought wrongly. But if she swept out of here now, what if Lyon swept after her in order to sweep her to jail? She must be patient. Rome was not built in a day. By God it would have been had she been a builder. She sat forward.
“Well, if you’re not going to listen, I should at least like it noted that I came here in good faith, to save my skin should you discover that at the end of the day Divers—”
“I would need proof, Miss Rhodes.”
“Proof?” At least she hoped she was being patient. “Isn’t the fact these barrels were found in my summerhouse proof enough that you can hang him at the Penvellyn crossroads, a warning to any who cross the law here?”
“And let the crows peck his bones eh?” Lyon chuckled. Despite the fact the sound was not unlike these same rattling bones, she nodded.
“Yes. Why not if he broke the law and put these barrels there?”
“Oh, I’d like to hang the perpetrator, believe me.”
“Then why don’t you?”
“Well here’s the thing, Miss Rhodes. He said it was you.”
Filed under: blogging, Glencoe, writing Tagged: Ba Bridge, Glencoe, Glencoe Corbetts, The Brecklet Trail
August 11, 2017
There’s reviews then there’s Robin’s reviews.
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My pleasure today is to review
My pleasure today is to review
Shehanne Moore’s exciting book,
“The Unraveling of Lady Fury.”
There’s a back story worth sharing,
an unbelievable event left
Fury Celia Fontanelli on a quay
by a pirate-style Captain who didn’t
look back, commandeering his
large ship, the Calypso, off
into the Caribbean.
How embarrassing!
Fury had to keep going ~
life wasn’t going to be “easy”
nor ever “uncomplicated.”
Establishing her good manners,
throwing herself into society
with a goal to capture a
fine Gentleman who
could marry her.
These days we might say:
Fury needed to be
“back on the market.”
Establishing her genteel persona,
Lady Fury gets married to
Thomas Beaumont.
Don’t worry, this is not a
Big Reveal!
Unfortunately, Thomas is
long gone before the first page.
The setting is in Genoa, 1820.
An important mission must be
achieved, a Beaumont heir!
How this comes about, who
will be chosen from three
“worthy suitors.”
There’s Count Vellagio,
The Duke Malmesbury
or the Duke of Southey.
There’s a sexy scoundrel,
thrown in for good measure:
Captain James Flint Blackmoor.
This is a taut, tightly wound
plot in the beginning,
until the unraveling
starts to take apart Lady Fury’s
resolve and staunch “rules”
which actually form a contract.
❤ 
August 7, 2017
The Time Mutants’ Guide to Time Travel with Paul Andruss
The Mutants Guide to Time Travel by Paul Andruss.
Please… settle down.
If you let me talk, everything will be explained.
I know this is unsettling. [image error]
But it is not your first unsettling experience, is it?
That got your attention!
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Many of you fear you are going mad or perhaps caught in some nightmare; which is unsurprising after your recurring vivid dreams and the recent dislocation experience. [image error]
You are frightened and alone. Let me assure you. You are not alone. We have all been through the same thing: because each of us is related.
I see you looking at the different styles in the room, clothes, hair, cosmetics, and wondering if I joke. You think you know your family: parents, grandparents, siblings, aunts, uncles, cousins. You were brought up to view family as those around you. You do not to think in terms of deep time: about generations past and those to come. But you will learn. Believe me.
Why am I here? You want to ask.
We all carry a double recessive gene from our common ancestress that makes us time travelling mutants.
Oh dear! How to put this simply?
Genes are what make you look like your parents or grandparents. If grandparents, you may have been told it skipped a generation: this is a recessive gene. Over centuries, families separate. Generations later, distant relatives meet and fall in love. When this happens often enough, you are the result.
[image error] Our common ancestress lived in the early 21st century. Her name was Brittany Carter. She wrote romantic fiction distinguished by the fact her heroines time travel: her granddaughter to the Viking age and another, in a thinly veiled autobiography, to the 18th century.
I know many of you read her classic novels when studying English Literature, and perhaps experienced a thrill of recognition in their pages. No doubt you were taught they were written by that literary giant Shehanne Moore. A pleasant fiction I am afraid. Brittany Carter wrote these works. Shehanne Moore was merely her nom-de-plume. A ruse used at the insistence of her publishers.
But time travel I hear you protest, surely you need a machine like the fabulous TARDIS of legend, or perhaps a sacred circle of standing-stones to concentrate the Gaia force. Not at all! Our research at the Institute, shows time travel is simple. It is caused by the relatively common ability of psychokinesis: the power to move objects with the mind.
Historical records show many of you experienced poltergeist activity when you hit puberty. Would it shock you to learn poltergeist activity is in fact involuntary outburst of psychokinetic energy, brought on by hormonal changes? As you grew older you no doubt noticed the violent outbursts subsided.
About the same time lucid dreams began. Lucid dreams are a psychological term for vivid dream states where your conscious mind remains aware making it seem you are actually experiencing the dream as reality. If it seems so, it is because you are.
Such dreams are a psychokinetic by-product; a telepathic bond with your ancestors and descendants. It is widely known Brittany Carter wrote about her granddaughter, Malice, under the influence of such dreams. This is why we time travel during moments of heightened sensation, usually, but not exclusively, during sexual arousal.
At this point I need to tell you everything you understand about time is wrong. From an early age you were taught to view time as a progression of events paralleling birth, growth and gradual decline towards death.
Here are some ancient flick-books, please take one and pass the rest on. See how each photograph, taken exactly a year apart, shows the person moving from birth to death at a fixed rate.
Normally we do not question this.
But think for a moment, even identical twins do not die at exactly the same time. Age is relative. It depends on a series of complex interactions governed by genes and environment.
In the 20th century the oldest person on the planet died at the age of 140 – which is nothing now; while children with the disease progeria died of advanced old age when no more than ten. Some individual cells, like cancer, never die. Others can be indefinitely held in suspension, such as the 5,000 year old seed from a Chinese tomb that grew into a magnolia tree when planted by archaeologists.
Aging is not due to minutes flowing into hours; days into years.
Aging is not time travel. The minutes and hours of your life merely mark the earth’s revolution on its axis and the year its orbit around the sun. Even a light year is a measure of distance, 5.9 trillion miles to be exact.
Stephen King claimed time particles, or chronons, were formed by the past colliding with the present and evaporated when the present dissolved into the future. Michael Moorcock agreed. Moorcock envisaged humans, called Time Dwellers, evolving to live permanently within a single moment. For Moorcock the only answer to the question: ‘What is the time?’ was ‘The present’.
Einstein, the father of science, did not believe in time. He said it was nothing other than a measurement of space like height, width and depth. To him we were no more capable of seeing the bigger picture than a word printed on the page can read the novel it belongs to. Like fish in a barrel we cannot see or understand the world outside, never mind swim in it. He explained it thus:
If a fish swims in a tank at 4 miles per hour, inside an airplane travelling at 500 mph, that is flying across the earth rotating at 1,000 mph at the equator, and orbiting around the sun at 68,400 mph, in a solar system spiralling around the Milky Way at 515,000 mph, in a universe expanding at 158,000 mph. How fast is the fish swimming? The answer is 4 miles per hour. That’s relativity.
If we stepped outside relativity, we would see the past, present and future happening concurrently. It would be like looking at a road from a hilltop. This is how Brittany saw her granddaughter’s life 800 years in the past.
You must understand atoms are not like specks of dust. They are infinitesimal amounts of electrical energy clustered into a nucleus of protons and neutrons and orbited by electrons. If the nucleus was the size of a tennis ball, the atom itself would be four miles across. This means most of the universe is empty space.
The universe expands in every direction at approximately 158,000 mph; as does every atom in it. Think of drawing two circles on a balloon then blowing it up. The bigger the balloon gets the more distant the circles become and the bigger they get.
If we could compact or expand an atom, it would automatically shift to the point when the universe was at the same density. In other words it would time travel.
The electro-magnetic force holding the universe together is the same as Gaia, the life force within every living creature. Outbursts of psychokinetic energy are measurable electric currents. This is how we time travel. Psychokinetic outbursts cause our atoms to contract or expand, hurling us through time.
The final question I am asked in this introductory session is: Am I immortal?
Yes and no.
Remember Michael Moorcock’s Time Dwellers living within a single moment? Like them we can dwell in a single moment of time and so do not age. But in that case, how did Brittany and Malice manage to live with their lovers?
That is relativity. As we cannot exist outside our immediate space-time environment, we take it with us, like a deep-sea diving suit. It is perhaps no more than an atom’s thickness but enough to keep us safe.
If you would care to get to know each other and work out your complex and often confusing relationships, there are refreshments next door. However, before you leave let me assure you, my fellow time-travelling mutants, you have long and interesting lives ahead of you, and many difficult skills to master. But master them you will. For we already know your future. [image error]
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Paul Andruss is the author of 2 contrasting fantasy novels
Wanting to engage readers and build an audience 2 novels are available as free downloads in different E-books formats.
[image error]Thomas the Rhymer – a magical fantasy for ages 11 to adult about a boy attempting to save fairy Thomas the Rhymer, while trying to rescue his brother from a selfish fairy queen.
If you enjoy the Harry Potter & Narnia books & films? Thomas the Rhymer is right up your street
Thomas the Rhymer is the 1st of a trilogy.
Finn Mac Cool – rude, crude and funny, explicitly sexual and disturbingly violent, Finn Mac Cool is strictly for adults only
Finn mac Cool is a modern retelling of the Irish Myth cycles with a science fantasy edge.
Finn Mac Cool is a must for those with Irish ancestry or anyone interested in Irish legends and folklore. Ever since being a child Paul was fascinated by the phantasmagorical and strange. Blessed with the type of mind that squirrels away peculiar facts, he supposed it was only natural these should become a central feature in his novels.
As Paul got older he often forgot where he found these oddities in the first place. Odds and Sods: A cabinet of Curiosities was born as an on-line notepad and sort of grew from there. Now it showcases the curious stuff he’s come across when researching his novels. He also get a tremendous kick from sharing it with friends.
The blog includes stories from science, history, myth, miracles, occult objects & fabulous beasts. Sample Posts: History – Bonfire of the Vanities / Myth – Philemon & Baucis / Miracles – The Lady at Lourdes / Occult Objects – The Turin Shroud/ Fabulous Beasts – The Horse Cock / Science – Alma (Are Neanderthals still alive?)
Paul is a guest Writer in Residence on ‘Smorgasbord- Variety is the Spice of Life’ where you can enjoy exclusive extra articles: Still Waving – the poet Stevie Smith / Marc Bolan’s Millions / Who were the Proto-Indo-Europeans? / The Truth of the Cottingley Fairies / Venus in Furs & Justine in Tears- De Sade & Masoch / Rosabelle Believe – Did Houdini return from the dead?
Why don’t you subscribe to both?
Filed under: blogging, Guest bloggers, Paul Andruss, Romance, time travel, Vikings Tagged: Jack Hughes Books, Paul Andruss, Regency, sci-fi, The Viking and The Courtesan, The Writer and the Rake, Thomas the Rhymer, TIme Mutants, Time Travelling Dynasty, Time-travel
July 30, 2017
Music to Write Books By
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https://robbiesinspiration.wordpress.com/2017/07/24/carrotranch-writeprompt-pies/
Brittany. Oh God, not you lot again. Darlings, don’t you have a cage or something to be in? Your little balls to play with? Hmm?
Brittany. All the better to amuse yourselves with then darlings. Now then what is it you want to know? So long as it’s not will I ever be a nice Georgian housewife, how to instruct a servant, or can you have one of my fags, or any of my booze, we’re good.
Brittany . But I do, darlings. So? Playlist? Well when she was writing the Viking and the Courtesan which I understand is about my granddaughter Malice…
Shey listened a lot to the first piece on this list, probably because she plays and has taught it several times too. So obviously when writing more of the series it was her starting point, just as Mitchell and I are. I think she found the epic scope of it inspiring, although our story was not nearly as epic as all the things Malice went through, a shipwreck, a convent raid nearly being burned to death in a Valhalla style funeral in Viking times, being kidnapped, locked up and then incarcerated in a lunatic asylum in Regency times, all the time just trying to find her way to where she wanted to be.
The rest though? Well, these were ours, pure and simple. As to why darlings? Well, you’ll just have to listen won’t you?
Filed under: Guest bloggers, Lists of, Romance, writing Tagged: Music, Music to write to, Playlist, Playlist for the Writer and The Rake, Romance, sci-fi, Shehanne Moore, The Writer and the Rake, Time-travel
July 27, 2017
Write a love letter with the Kabrini Message and the Dudes
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We begin with our Synopsis :
The Love Story of Lizabet and Rick
York, England 1617
Both working on a large estate in Northern England, exactly 400 years ago, Lizabet Sirene is a wash and kitchen maiden and Derrick (known as “Rick”) Moutarde is in charge of the horses and stables.
Both are madly in love with each other but already spoken for. Their relationship, therefore, they believe is forbidden. They make a pact that they will only express their feelings verbally; stoically vowing never to act upon them. They are determined to be honorable, above all else.
There is such passion, however; such a magnetic and seductive quality surrounding them, that although they fight their feelings for as long as possible…one evening in the stables, the unexpected (though greatly desired) happens.
Tremendous guilt follows, leading to self-destructive behavior in the form of disproportionate self-punishment, the enabling of emotional blackmail, manipulation and ultimately for each of them…varying forms of exile and incarceration.
Yet, through all of this, their emotions only grow stronger. The more Lizabet tries to move on, the more she cannot forget. The more Rick tries to think of something…anything else, the more he can think of nothing and no one BUT Lizabet and their one night of passion in the stables.
Though separated, each endures a similar, confusing montage of mixed emotions: The euphoria, the feeling of freedom, elation and perfection of their one encounter of ecstasy, unlike any either of them has ever known or even dreamed of before…juxtaposed against the torment from those seeking to advance their own vindictive agendas: All out psychological warfare and exploitation of already overwhelming and seemingly never ending burdens of nothing but guilt, duty and obligation. Until finally, one day…an epiphany: This is futile, pointless and unbearable as well as ultimately…unnecessary.
Eventually realizing it is impossible to deny their true feelings and inevitable destiny; against all odds and despite tremendous challenges, Lizabet and Rick begin to find creative ways to communicate – ultimately breaking free from their (ironically, mostly self-imposed) respective sentences of house arrest and imprisonment.
Notes :
[image error]Although there were other methods utilized as well, Lizabet and Rick’s primary means of communication was a hollow tree in which each left messages and small tokens for the other. The messages they left were always seemingly innocent enough that should they be stumbled upon by the wrong set of prying eyes (in particular, their captors); no incriminating or self-identifying evidence could be found in them. They were careful to express what they wanted to convey, but in a way only they knew the full meaning of. This might seem to be a tricky situation, but being so in sync with each other; sharing one soul as twin flames do – they often entered each other’s dreams, read each other’s minds and felt what the other was feeling anyway, so it was not as challenging for them as one might think.
The Contest : Win a $50 Amazon Gift Card!
Pen your best Love Letter and deliver it to “the hollow tree”.
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You may assume the role of either Rick to Lillabet or Lillabet to Rick – your choice.
For our purposes, to “hollow tree” will be a post office box. OK, OK, I know…it’s not very romantic, but it works. And yes, old-fashioned “snail mail”!
In fact, if your letter is actually hand written on real stationery…better yet (We are traveling back to the year 1617…Helloooooo???…there were no computers, tablets, email, etc.!)
Choose one of these two themes for your Love Letter. Either:
Passionate (throw caution to the wind and just LET IT FLY!
Or…Loaded with “Dog Whistles”…meaning: Seemingly innocent if discovered, but containing lots of useful information as to possible ways to accomplish one or more of the following goals:
Communicate
Escape
Tryst
*Hollow Tree Address:
Mr. Rick Moutarde
P.O. Box 630
Absecon, NJ 08201
The most fabulous Love Letter will be awarded a $50 Amazon Gift Card.
The Kabrini Message
J.R. Egles
609-553-5652
Science Fiction/Adventure
Word count: 73,943
They had finally made contact. And the world would never be the same…
Jeffrey Driscoll is a rugged yet charming adventurer with a hidden consciousness: when he gazes through the eyepiece of his telescope, he senses someone is looking back. Haunted by the stars since boyhood, he sets off on an exhilarating quest that takes him across the planet. Not quite sure what he seeks, Driscoll only knows he must keep moving. Throughout his reckless escapades, Driscoll is often accompanied by Mondo (a childlike, affable young African), Mohammed (a surly, sun-blasted Arab) and Goldstein (a cynical New York Jew), an unlikely trio that never fails to plunge face-first into hilariously perilous predicaments.
When an uptight British archeology professor hires the ragtag crew for a dig on the Greek island of Delos, Driscoll stumbles upon a miraculous find: ancient crystals with celestial coordinates that will connect mankind with the Kabrini, a highly advanced alien civilization. Driscoll’s groundbreaking discovery ultimately leads to Planet Earth’s first global space effort, the Legacy mission.
Years later, when Driscoll Mining and the U.S. Army complete deep space construction of the Kabrini communications network, the Legacy mission is deemed a success. Mankind finally makes contact…only to discover the Kabrini Message isn’t exactly what we want to hear. The Kabrini view our civilization as one of heightened intelligence yet no spiritual enlightenment—a dangerous combination. Although the wise alien race has the ability to offer mankind limitless knowledge and staggering technological advances, they fear our barbaric people will only use the information for evil.
As if to prove the Kabrini right, a fanatical terrorist group’s hunger for revenge leads to an explosive turn of events, threatening the Kabrini network; but Driscoll will stop at nothing to save the project. As his obsession with the Kabrini grows and the Legacy mission spirals out of control, he risks losing it all—his company, his grasp on what’s most important and the one thing he’s ever truly loved: his wife, Carol.
This thrilling Adventure meets Sci-Fi saga takes readers across the globe and beyond, from the jungles of Africa to London, from Los Angeles to Greece, from Washington D.C. to Egypt, from Jamaica to Vienna and finally to the deepest depths of space. Join Jeffrey Driscoll and all of mankind on an unforgettable journey to alien contact and universal enlightenment in The Kabrini Message.
BUY LINKS & FOLLOW INFO.:
http://kabrinimessage.blogspot.com/2012/11/the-story-behind-story.html
Filed under: blogging, book tour Tagged: Competition, J.R Egles, Love Letters, Marie Carhart, Sc-fi, The Kabrini Message, Write a love letter, writing
July 20, 2017
When Glittering Shimmerling met the dudes. Conflict in writing.
Glitter Shimmerling meets the Hamstah Dudes by Robbie Cheadle.
Fairy Glitter Shimmerling,
had a “Bake and Write” blog,
the maintenance of which,
was a fun and exciting job.
***
On her blog she taught,
others how to bake,
her cakes were delicious,
make no mistake.
***
For each and every post,
she attempted a new creation,
her rose covered chocolate cake,
created quite a sensation.
***
[image error] One afternoon the Hamstahs,
came over to play,
they liked it so much,
they decided to stay.
***
The Hamstahs and Glitter,
became very good chums,
you could tell they were enjoying it,
from the trail of crumbs………………………………………………….
***
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There were a few mishaps,
Sir Chocolate was nearly eaten,
The perpetrator was caught in time,
and his naughty urge beaten.
***
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The blog’s protective cats,
were out for the day,
when they heard the news,
They rushed back without delay.
***
The kittens investigated,
with great precision,
and based on the evidence,
made their decision.
***
The two clever cats,
and the Hamstahs became mates,
together they nibbled,
every treat on the plates.
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https://robbiesinspiration.wordpress.com/2017/07/16/glitter-shimmerling-meets-the-hamstah-dudes/
Filed under: blogging, book tour, Guest bloggers, writing Tagged: conflict in writing, poetry, Robbie and Michael Cheadle, Robbie Cheadle, Sir Chocolate books, writing
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