A daughter’s last chance at redemption on an alien planet. A sweeping secret that could not only end her dreams, but her life as well.
Finn Rucker boards the starship to seek a fresh start as part of a colonizing effort on Joya. The race, sponsored by Governus, yields free land and startup funds for the lucky winners. The number of entrants guarantees someone is going to lose and Finn is determined that she and her bionic horse, Herc, will be among the winners.
Racing through uncharted jungle to the settlement of Novus, Finn and her fellow racers soon discover that not everything is as it seems – and Governus withheld information from the contestants. Strange beasts attack the racers, mechanical equipment begins to fail, and the very air seems out to get them.
When all seems lost, a mysterious people arrive and help the racers, revealing the depth of Governus’ deception. Finn will have to keep her pulse pistols close and her new friends closer – but not too close – as they all race to survive the jungle.
You will love this mashup of Hidalgo and James Cameron’s Avatar as Finn navigates the guilt of her past, the promise of a future, and the imminent dangers of her present.
Race to Novus is a really fun, action-packed sci-fi read. I’ve not read a great deal of sci-fi of late, but this is the second book in a month, and it’s been very enjoyable.
Our main character, Finn, and her trusty, half-bionic horse, Herc take us quickly to Novus, as the space ship lands on the planet and the race begins. While on board, Finn has already forged some friendships, and I enjoyed that these relationships come to us fully formed, allowing the action to get underway quickly.
But, all is not as it seems on Novus, and every so often, we are treated to a brief interlude where we begin to discover the depth of the subterfuge used to get Finn and her friends to Novus.
As well as the friendships, the galaxy that Finn occupies is also fully-formed. We’re quickly told how things stand, and why some of the different species like one another, while others don’t. There is also a genuine sense that this is ‘every species for themselves’ until things start to go wrong, and then these previous alliances come to the fore, as danger abounds and everyone finds their lives under threat.
This is a really intriguing take on a good-old-fashioned land grab and competition – it has elements of the Hunger Games and indeed, the Avatar description is also applicable. A refreshing read. I’m really glad I decided to try it.
Race to Novus is available now.
Meet the author
R.A. Clarke is a former police officer turned stay-at-home mom living with her family in Portage la Prairie, Manitoba. Besides raising two rambunctious boys, soaking in lake time, and acting in community theatre, R.A.’s spare time is spent plotting fantastical novels and multi-genre short fiction. Her tales have been featured in various publications, and have won international writing contests, such as Red Penguin Books’ humour contest, the Writer’s Weekly 24-hour contest, The Writer’s Workout: Writer’s Games, and the 2023 Write Fighters 3-Day Novella Challenge. She was also a finalist for both the 2021 Futurescapes Award and the 2022 Dark Sire Awards.
R.A. Clarke writes and illustrates a children’s chapter book series for ages 7-10 as Rachael Clarke as well. The first book in that series, The Big Ol’ Bike—a story about a smaller than average kid with a huge heart—was named a Females of Fiction Award finalist by Hindi’s Libraries in 2021. To learn more, please visit: www.rachaelclarkewrites.com.
They’re called the Lost Ships … but sometimes they come back.
And when they do the crews are missing, while the ships have been strangely altered, rumoured to be full of horrors.
Opal Imbiana has been seeking something her whole life. It’s a secret so precious she’s willing to risk her life recovering it from a recently discovered Lost Ship, in a lonely nebula far from colonised space.
She’s just one woman, entering an alien and lethal environment. But with the aid of an amazing AI companion and experimental armoured suit, Opal might just stand a chance.
This blast of a book kickstarted the much-loved Lost Solace series, about an unlikely friendship between two women who keep hope alive in the darkest of times.
Lost Solace is a hugely enjoyable book, and the narrator is absolutely fabulous. She brings wonderful warmth to our main character, and also our AI companion. I don’t read a huge amount of sci-fi these days, but decided to take a chance on it for the blog tour, and I’m really pleased I did.
The story itself is fast-paced and well-plotted. Opal is an intriguing main character, determined to achieve her objective no matter what obstacles try to stop her, and there are a lot of obstacles. The action is pretty non-stop.
The story is sure to appeal to sci-fi fans (and those who’ve perhaps not sampled the genre much recently) and the narrator makes the storyline pop. Really enjoyable. Give it a try. I don’t think you’ll be disappointed. I plan on enjoying the rest of the books in the series.
Meet the author
Karl Drinkwater is an author with a silly name and a thousand-mile stare. He writes dystopian space opera, dark suspense and diverse social fiction. If you want compelling stories and characters worth caring about, then you’re in the right place. Welcome!
Karl lives in Scotland and owns two kilts. He has degrees in librarianship, literature and classics, but also studied astronomy and philosophy. Dolly the cat helps him finish books by sleeping on his lap so he can’t leave the desk. When he isn’t writing he loves music, nature, games and vegan cake.
Go to karldrinkwater.uk to view all his books grouped by genre.
As well as crafting his own fictional worlds, Karl has supported other writers for years with his creative writing workshops, editorial services, articles on writing and publishing, and mentoring of new authors. He’s also judged writing competitions such as the international Bram Stoker Awards, which act as a snapshot of quality contemporary fiction.
DON’T MISS OUT!
Enter your email at karldrinkwater.substack.com to be notified about his new books. Fans mean a lot to him, and replies to the newsletter go straight to his inbox, where every email is read. There is also an option for paid subscribers to support his work: in exchange you receive additional posts and complimentary books.
These final paragraphs from the end of Chapter Two show main character Emma trying to escape a burning building and she’s made it to the flat roof. It’s 1911 and firemen have placed a wooden ladder across from the neighbouring building. She is thinking of her dead twin brother as she contemplates her own likely demise. This plot point was inspired by the true story of one woman’s survival from the real Triangle Shirtwaist factory fire in New York in March 1911…
Emma focused on the fireman’s face, beaded with adrenalin, kind yet full of urgency for her to succeed. She searched for strength in arms which raged with pain.
‘Keep looking at me. Slowly does it…’
Her breathing faltered and she shuddered. The wooden rungs gave a little and bounced when she moved. Her thighs started to wobble and she felt lightheaded.
‘Not far now, keep coming.’
The fireman’s hand was reaching out to her.
‘You’re nearly halfway, good girl.’
She focused on the soot-smudged fingers and inched herself closer. Clouds of smoke closed in, wrapping their warmth around her, not wanting to let her escape. Snapping and crackling behind found her digging deep for a final effort John would have been proud of.
‘Don’t look back. I’ve nearly got you.’
She saw the fireman’s sooty hands, the sweat on his own face, felt her lungs pulling life from the tiny breaths she was taking. It hurt, and she thought about giving up and letting her body fall.
‘Hey!’
She gritted her teeth and pulled her aching body once more along the ladder. When he could finally reach her, the fireman pulled her from the lifeline and wrapped her in a blanket, supporting her body when she collapsed. She turned in time to see the flames crackle towards them and watched the ladder as it fell away like a box of lit matches.
A few minutes later, she was led out of the building and onto the street. Her left arm had blistered, little weeping domes of red flesh. The slash on her right wrist where she’d forced her hand through the door had stopped bleeding, but splinters stuck out at crude angles, embedded in muscle. The pain was pulling her towards death, of that she was sure.
The policeman steered her past bodies, charred limbs twisted.
‘Oh, my God… I saw these people jump.’ Emma covered her mouth with her hand.
‘Don’t look.’ He was taking her to where the horse-drawn ambulances were queuing across the end of the alley, waiting to take the injured to hospital. ‘Poor things jumped, but some are from the fire escape.’
Emma stopped walking. ‘The fire escape?’
‘That mangled mess.’ He pointed to a skeleton of bent and twisted metal. Torn fabric pieces hung from spikes of broken steel. ‘It broke under the weight of too many people.’
Physicians and nurses were busy covering bodies with blankets as police tried to keep the crowds back. The cries and sobbing which filled the air were testament to the unfolding horror. Emma scanned the walking wounded, praying.
Then she stopped.
Strands of hair stuck to her face and she had to drag it away from her eyes three times before she could be sure that the skirt was that of Martina. It lay in ripples across unmoving legs, one of which no longer had a foot. Use the window! Emma had told her, convinced it was the safest route out of the fire.
They had a lifetime of shared memories yet to make: the vote to win, husbands to find, children to bring into the world.
How could this be the truth?
Emma slumped to her knees, but the policeman pulled her back to her feet. Even the nurse’s kind attentions could not console her or stop the howling sobs. Life wasn’t life without Martina in it. Her presence had made the loss of John more bearable – she couldn’t possibly have lost her too.
Here’s the blurb
It’s 1911 and, against her mother’s wishes, quiet New Yorker Emma dreams of winning the right to vote. She is sent away by her parents in the hope distance will curb her desire to be involved with the growing suffrage movement and told to spend time learning about where her grandparents came from.
Across the Atlantic – Queenstown, southern Ireland – hotelier Thomas dreams of being loved, even noticed, by his actress wife, Alice. On their wedding day, Alice’s father had assured him that adoration comes with time. It’s been eight years. But Alice has plans of her own and they certainly don’t include the fight for equality or her dull husband.
Emma’s arrival in Ireland leads her to discover family secrets and become involved in the Irish Women’s Suffrage Society in Cork. However, Emma’s path to suffrage was never meant to lead to a forbidden love affair…
Giveaway to Win a signed copy of Maid of Steel, candle and lipsil (Open to UK Only)
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I’m delighted to welcome Rosemary Griggs and her new book, The Dartington Bride, Daughters of Devon series, to the blog with Refugees in Elizabethan England.
Refugees in Elizabethan England
Current media coverage sometimes gives the impression that refugees and asylum seekers are a recent concern. Yet, throughout history, people have sought refuge in safer, more welcoming nations to escape persecution and conflict.
While researching for The Dartington Bride, I came across fascinating similarities between the difficulties encountered by refugees in Elizabethan England and those faced by asylum seekers today. Empathy for their predicament often became overshadowed by skepticism and doubt. This was particularly evident in difficult times, like the 1590s, when consecutive poor harvests led to higher prices and a scarcity of food.
The inspiration for my latest novel was a young Huguenot woman named Roberda, who married Gawen Champernowne in 1571. Her father, Gabriel de Lorges, Count of Montgomery, a Huguenot military leader, gained fame in 1559 for accidentally killing King Henri II of France in a jousting accident. Gawen’s father, Sir Arthur Champernowne, was the brother of Queen Elizabeth’s childhood governess and Chief Lady of the Privy Chamber, widely known as ‘Kat’ Astley.
After the St Bartholomew’s Day massacre in Paris in 1572, Gawen’s father, the Vice Admiral of the Fleet of the West, opened his doors to Roberda’s family at Dartington Hall in Devon.
An Elizabethan Lady at the door of Dartington Hall
Sixteenth century French Huguenots, like Roberda’s family, were not the first people to seek a haven in England.
Over two hundred years earlier, in 1336/37, King Edward III welcomed a substantial number of weavers from Flanders, where they were being mistreated by the aristocracy. However, compassion for their situation wasn’t the King’s only motive. He wanted them to bring their expertise in wool spinning, carding, and weaving to Kent. Instead of exporting wool as a raw material to be fashioned into cloth overseas, he wanted Kentish wool to be woven in England. As well as encouraging the settlers, King Edward banned the export of wool to the Netherlands and stopped the import of foreign cloth. As a protectionist measure, this scheme had limited success. However, the local population remained unsettled for a century because of the sudden arrival of so many newcomers.
The Black Death ravaged the whole of Europe in the mid-fourteenth century. As communities recovered, industries flourished again and trade became buoyant. By the time the Tudors came to power in England in the late fifteenth century, people were choosing to move around more, seeking opportunities or escaping hardship.
For example, Breton carpenters arrived in the west of England during the fifteenth and early sixteenth centuries. We can still see examples of their work can in churches in Devon and also in Cornwall, where a common language and culture may have smoothed over potentially difficult situations.
Throughout this time, the incomers came as a trickle, not a flood. But during the reign of another Edward, Edward VI, a larger wave of refugees made their way to England. They were Protestants seeking to escape persecution in the Low Countries and France. King Edward permitted them to settle in England and granted them the right to establish their own ‘Strangers Churches.’ (The term refugee was unknown in Tudor England — people called the new arrivals ‘strangers’ or ‘aliens’.) In 1550, the King gave the predominantly Dutch-speaking incomers the church at Austin Friars, while another church, in Threadneedle Street, served French-speaking immigrants. The Strangers Church in Soho, where a slightly higher class of refugees settled, soon followed.
After Edward’s death in 1553, Mary became queen. She ordered the Protestant immigrants to leave the country. But in 1558, she too died. Elizabeth I was more welcoming. She offered asylum and protection to all seeking to escape persecution, but was particularly keen to welcome Protestants from the Spanish Netherlands. In 1568, King Philip of Spain sent the Duke of Alba to the Spanish colony to impose his Catholic authority there, causing many Protestants to seek refuge elsewhere. Later that same year, the Duchess of Parma, who was acting as regent, told her brother, King Phillip, that around 100,000 people had fled to England, taking their goods and money with them. She expressed concern that this would enrich England at the expense of the Spanish Netherlands.
But when they arrived in England, the newcomers had to settle in designated towns and worship in their own churches. These churches were required to provide for the poor sick in their own congregations. The churches also had to enforce stringent regulations to govern the conduct of their community. The immigrant communities thus became somewhat isolated from their neighbours.
By 1572, the French Wars of Religion had been going on for ten years, periods of fierce fighting interspersed with intervals of uneasy peace. The treaty of St Germain-en-Laye, signed in 1570, brought the third war of religion to an end. It secured some concessions for the Protestants, but some catholics felt it went too far. Tensions were again rising.
Many Huguenots were in Paris on August 24, St Bartholomew’s Day, to celebrate the wedding of their leader, Henry of Navarre, to the catholic king Charles’ sister, Marguerite. The hope was that the marriage would cement the peace between the two religious factions. It’s thought that the French King, Charles IX, sanctioned murdering several Huguenot leaders accused of planning rebellion.
The targeted assassinations ignited an unprecedented massacre, when mobs roamed the streets hunting down Huguenots. They killed everyone who did not show their catholic allegiance by wearing a white armband or a white cross in their hats. Some sources suggest that as many 3,000 Protestants perished in Paris alone. The mobs did not spare even the women and children.
The Queen Mother of France, Catherine de Medici, has historically blamed for the atrocity, although recent scholars, including Estelle Paranque, argue that she is unlikely to have plotted a massacre of the people with whom she has been trying for decades to negotiate peace.
The St Bartholomew’s Day Massacre by Francois Dubois ( c 1572 – 84 ) sourced via Wikimedia Commons
Violence soon spread beyond the city. Throughout October, mass killings persisted in various French cities, including Rouen, Lyon, Bourges, Bordeaux, and Orleans, leading to around 70,000 additional deaths across France.
After these tragic events in France, refugees flooded into England. They arrived in Dover, Canterbury, London, and Norwich. Others may have entered through Devon ports such as Dartmouth and Plymouth, which had, for generations, traded with Normandy and Brittany.
Initially, the tragic events in France led to a massive surge of solidarity with the Huguenots. Queen Elizabeth and all the court wore mourning clothes.
The English Protestant community, people like Sir Arthur Champernowne, were sympathetic to fellow believers fleeing France. They saw the tragic events in Paris as a signal that they must be vigilant against a perceived Catholic threat. Elizabeth and her chief adviser, William Cecil, Lord Burghley, continued to extend a welcome to skilled refugees. The authorities protected them from local opposition, regulated their activities and taxed them to the full. By the 1580s, new arrivals had to navigate tough social, legal, work, and tax conditions.
The refugees received a warm welcome in Norwich and other eastern towns. They brought special skills and new techniques in weaving, helping to revive the cloth trade, which was in serious decline. Large numbers of weavers settling in Kent received a similar welcome as they could create lighter fabrics made from a mix of fibres (not only wool), for export. The queen gave the growing immigrant population in Canterbury permission to use the undercroft of the Cathedral for their worship. Later they were allowed to use the Black Prince Chantry, still in use to this day.
The Eglise Protestant Francaise
Against all the odds, Roberda’s father made a dramatic escape from the Paris massacre and Sir Arthur welcomed the Montgomery family to his home. However, not everyone showed the same level of acceptance. The queen’s government gladly received the incomers, dispersed them into various parts of England, and encouraged to resume their occupations. But for many English working people, sympathy and welcome would quickly turn into suspicion and distrust.
‘Foreigners’ were not popular in Tudor England. At the start of King Henry VIII’s rule, the number of immigrants was small, possibly two per cent of London’s population. However, the court and aristocracy favoured foreign merchants who provided luxury goods like silk, wool, and exotic spices. The exemption of Flemish cobblers from Guild design provisions gave them a competitive edge over English workers. Resentment grew amongst English merchants and the working population. In 1517, an inflammatory xenophobic speech by a preacher known as Dr Bell brought already simmering discontent to a boiling point. On 30 April a mob of 2,000 looted buildings, and caused chaos on the streets of the City. Hundreds of rioters were arrested for disturbing the peace and for treason. Fourteen men were executed before the King heeded Queen Catherine of Aragon’s pleas for mercy and granted pardons. This event became known as the “Evil May Day riot” — see also below.
After Queen Mary married Philip of Spain in 1554, Simon Renard, the Ambassador to the Holy Roman Empire and an employee of Emperor Charles V, observed,
‘It will be very difficult to foster good relations between Spaniards and Englishmen. There is the barrier of language, and… the English hate strangers.’
People harboured a particularly deep dislike for the French, whom they referred to as ‘the old enemy,’ after enduring centuries of wars. When Roberda’s family came to England in 1572, there were many Devon families who still had memories of fathers and grandfathers who never returned from King Henry VIII’s last campaign in France. That campaign and the loss of the Mary Rose were within living memory.
While some believed immigrants would take jobs from locals, others argued they sought better lives and higher-paying jobs, not just to escape persecution. But England needed the important skills they brought with them. Elizabeth’s reign saw many skilled craftsmen arrive — weavers and cloth workers, silversmith, watchmakers — as well as clergymen, doctors, merchants, soldiers, and teachers. It has been tentatively suggested that French Protestant refugees may have played a role in establishing the bobbin lace industry in Honiton, Devon.
It was probably the newcomers’ ability to use their skills for monetary gain that caused a resurgence of resentment, distrust, and fear. In 1576 the cordwainers (shoemakers), concerned about long-term competition from the newcomers, complained to the queen asking whether she would allow the ‘strangers’ to remain in the country with full rights of citizenship.
The population of England rose by around one million during the Elizabethan period. According to historian W. G. Hoskins, Devon, the most sparsely populated county in England in the fourteenth century, had become one of the most densely populated by the end of the sixteenth. A string of poor harvests in the 1590s caused flour prices in London to nearly triple between 1593 and 1597. Hostility towards immigrants rose as the number of unemployed individuals, or ‘vagabonds’, increased.
English working families struggled with rampant inflation while businesses resented what they saw as unfair competition. In 1592, London shopkeepers complained the strangers could sell their goods in areas forbidden to others. Unrest spilled onto the streets in riots amongst the London apprentices. Curfews were imposed and several royal proclamations sought to prevent riots. In December 1593, the Mayor prohibited football playing or other unlawful assemblies, and in June 1595, another directive required ‘apprentices and servants to be kept within their masters houses on Sabath dayes and holy dayes,’ and ‘idle persons’ to be committed to Bridewell’. London citizens even accused immigrants of causing a plague outbreak in 1593 and attacked their homes. Soon the French and Dutch were being blamed for all the problems in England.
It is thought that William Shakespeare may have collaborated with others on a late Elizabethan play, ‘The Book of Thomas Moore.’ The authors composed and revised the manuscript from 1593 to 1600. A scene in the play is significant as it portrays Londoners calling for the expulsion of the ‘wretched strangers’ in their community. This refers to the 1517 ‘Evil May Day riots’, mentioned above. Including this scene implies that intolerance towards immigrants persisted in late Elizabethan England.
In The Dartington Bride, scarred by her own childhood experiences in France, Roberda is determined to help others whose lives have been blighted by conflict. After considering the evidence that the ‘strangers’ were not universally accepted, I realised she might face an uphill struggle. It seems those seeking refuge in Elizabethan England met with obstacles, attitudes and sentiments very similar to those facing the asylum seekers of our time.
Rosemary Griggs
21 March 2024
I have drawn this article together from a wide range of sources including:
W.G. Hoskins: Devon
Estelle Paranque — Blood , Fire and Gold
Jane Marchese Robinson: Seeking Sanctuary -—A History of Refugees in Britain
H. J. Yallop: The History of the Honiton Lace industry
British Library Medieval manuscripts Blog. 13 November 2021: ’Strangers’ in Tudor England and Stewart Scotland
Two articles form ‘The Conversation’: ‘Refugees and riots in Shakespeare’s England’ published March 17, 2016, and ‘The asylum seekers who frightened Elizabethan England’ published January 21.
Here’s the blurb
1571, and the beautiful, headstrong daughter of a French Count marries the son of the Vice Admiral of the Fleet of the West in Queen Elizabeth’s chapel at Greenwich. It sounds like a marriage made in heaven…
Roberda’s father, the Count of Montgomery, is a prominent Huguenot leader in the French Wars of Religion. When her formidable mother follows him into battle, she takes all her children with her.
After a traumatic childhood in war-torn France, Roberda arrives in England full of hope for her wedding. But her ambitious bridegroom, Gawen, has little interest in taking a wife.
Received with suspicion by the servants at her new home, Dartington Hall in Devon, Roberda works hard to prove herself as mistress of the household and to be a good wife. But there are some who will never accept her as a true daughter of Devon.
After the St Bartholomew’s Day Massacre, Gawen’s father welcomes Roberda’s family to Dartington as refugees. Compassionate Roberda is determined to help other French women left destitute by the wars. But her husband does not approve. Their differences will set them on an extraordinary path…
Author and speaker Rosemary Griggs has been researching Devon’s sixteenth-century history for years. She has discovered a cast of fascinating characters and an intriguing network of families whose influence stretched far beyond the West Country and loves telling the stories of the forgotten women of history – the women beyond the royal court; wives, sisters, daughters and mothers who played their part during those tumultuous Tudor years: the Daughters of Devon.
Her novel A Woman of Noble Wit tells the story of Katherine Champernowne, Sir Walter Raleigh’s mother, and features many of the county’s well-loved places.
Rosemary creates and wears sixteenth-century clothing, a passion which complements her love for bringing the past to life through a unique blend of theatre, history and re-enactment. Her appearances and talks for museums and community groups all over the West Country draw on her extensive research into sixteenth-century Devon, Tudor life and Tudor dress, particularly Elizabethan.
Out of costume, Rosemary leads heritage tours of the gardens at Dartington Hall, a fourteenth-century manor house and now a visitor destination and charity supporting learning in arts, ecology and social justice.
Jeanie’s getting married, and – despite her completely impossible four sisters – her best friends Clio and Amber are determined to give her a bachelorette weekend to remember. They’re in matching pink T-shirts and the drinks are flowing…
But the night turns out to be unforgettable for all the wrong reasons when a girl turns up dead on the dancefloor. And – even though she’s a stranger – she is wearing one of Jeanie’s hen T-shirts.
Who is she? And why are the police convinced that the hens are involved? Can the newly-formed Bad Girls Detective Agency solve the murder? And in time to get Jeanie up the aisle?
Unputdownable mystery set on the English coast – perfect for fans of The Thursday Murder Club, Bad Sistersand How to Kill Your Family.
Murder on the Dancefloor is the second book in Katie Marsh’s cosy crime series featuring our three would-be-detectives, Jeanie, Clio and Amber.
It’s six months after the events of How Not To Murder Your Ex, and it’s Jeanie’s hen weekend. Not, of course, that the event is going to run smoothly. When one of the nightclub guests is found dead, the three all resolve to find the culprit.
As with the first book, humour and the bitter-sweet reality of life combine to find our characters in some very awkward situations as Jeanie frantically tries to evade her overbearing family and fears for her coming wedding, whereas Amber is still determined to get one over on Marcus, her former boss and the reason she’s no longer in the police. Clio, too, is coming to terms with her daughter being at university and all the changes this has brought to her life.
I really enjoyed the storyline and the resolution of the mystery. Between the three of them, they all manage to get into some unfortunate scrapes and while there has been a murder that needs solving, this still has very much a feel-good and life-affirming quality to it. If there can be such a thing, this is a joyful cosy murder mystery.
The slightly different presentation of this novel does mean we don’t get to ‘hate’ on Clio’s ex-husband as we did in book 1 (and we all hated him), and perhaps that is a little bit of a miss, but does mean we get more of our three heroes.
A fun, entertaining, funny mystery. I look forward to reading more.
Meet the author
Katie wrote romantic fiction before turning to crime. Her debut novel was a World Book Night pick and her books are published in ten languages.
She lives in the English countryside and loves strong coffee and pretending to be in charge of her children. ‘How Not to Murder your Ex’, the first in her Bad Girls Detective Agency series is out now, published by Boldwood Books. The next instalment, ‘Murder on the Dancefloor,’ follows in March 2024.
Adrienne has written a fabulous post about her new book, In The Shadow of War. Welcome Adrienne.
Down on the Farm in 1930s Canada
In 1921, my grandfather, Frank Chinn, who had spent five years fighting in France in the British infantry – surviving shrapnel wounds and mustard gas – told his wife, Edith née Fry, that he’d had enough of Britain and Europe and had applied for them to emigrate to either Canada, Australia or South Africa on the Soldiers’ Land Settlement Scheme for British war veterans.
Edith Adelaide Fry Chinn and Staff Sargeant Frank Thomas Chinn, British Infantry 1914-1919
They had two young children, my Aunt Betty who had been born in 1918, and my father, Geoffrey, who was only two. Frank was allocated virgin land in Alberta, Canada to make into a farm, so off to Canada they went. My grandmother would never see her family in Britain again.
Edith in England in 1920 with my Aunt Betty (2) and my father Geoffrey (not yet 1)
As I grew up, my father and aunt told me and my brothers and sisters many stories about their early lives on a wheat farm in the small farming community of Westlock, Alberta during the years of the Great Depression in the 1930s.
Westlock, Alberta, Canada 1930s
Edith in front of the Chinn farmhouse, Westlock, Alberta, 1930s
Edith in front of the farmhouse – the inspiration for Sweet Briar Farm.
As it turned out, my auctioneer grandfather from Nuneaton, England was no wheat farmer. In 1935, after 14 years of struggle, the bank foreclosed on the farm and they lost everything. They moved into a small shack by the railway which my grandfather called the Chicken Coop, and managed to scrape out an existence until my grandmother had squirreled away enough money for them to move to Victoria, British Columbia where she ran a boarding house with my aunt; my father became an apprentice butcher; and my grandfather gardened and joined the local veteran’s association. In 1939, both my aunt and father enlisted – Aunt Betty as a nurse and my father in the Royal Canadian Air Force – and their lives changed forever.
The “Chicken Coop”, Westlock, Alberta, 1935.
I wanted to explore the experiences and resilience of people like my grandfather’s family trying to eke out a living on farms in North America during the Dust Bowl years of the 1930s, so I placed eldest Fry sister Celie, her war veteran husband Frank, and their young daughter Lulu on Sweet Briar Farm in the fictional West Lake, Alberta, which was very much inspired by family stories and photos.
Wow, thank you for sharing such a fabulous post. The photos are fabulous.
Here’s the blurb
One war may be over, but their fight for survival continues…
For sisters Etta, Jessie and Celie Fry, the Great War and the hardships of the years that followed have taken a heavy toll.
Determined to leave her painful past behind her, Etta heads to the bright lights of Hollywood whilst Jessie, determined to train as a doctor and use her skills to help others, is hampered by the men who dominate her profession. On the vast, empty plains of the Canadian prairies, Celie and her small family stand on the brink of losing everything.
As whispers of a new war make their way to each sister, each must face the possibility of the unthinkable happening again…
Adrienne Chinn was born in Grand Falls, Newfoundland, grew up in Quebec, and eventually made her way to London, England after a career as a journalist. In England she worked as a TV and film researcher before embarking on a career as an interior designer, lecturer, and writer. When not up a ladder or at the computer writing, she often can be found rummaging through flea markets or haggling in the Marrakech souk. Her second novel, The English Wife — a timeslip story set in World War II England and contemporary Newfoundland — was published in June 2020 and has become an international bestseller. Her debut novel, The Lost Letter, was published by Avon Books UK in 2019. Love in a Time of War, the first in a series of four books in The Three Fry Sisters series, was published in February 2022. The second in the series, The ParisSister, was published in February 2023, and the third book in the series, In the Shadow of War, was published in March 2024.
I’m delighted to welcome Alison Morton and her new book, EXSILIUM, part of the Roma Nova series, to the blog with a guest post.
Guest Post
When we think of Romans, two images immediately spring to mind. The first is a fierce helmeted solder wearing iron bands of segmented armour across his torso over a red tunic that only just covers his knees and with hobnail marching boots on his feet. He carries a spear, gladius ad dagger as weapons and a large rectangular shield which he uses in clever formations with his comrades.
The second is a man draped in a splendid toga making a clever speech in the Senate. His ‘womenfolk’ would be demurely dressed in tunic and mantle, often accompanied by a slave in a simple tunic.
Well, yes and no.
Let’s look at the military
The earliest proven use of this segmented armour is in 9 BC with a suggestion of possibly as early as 53 BC; the latest in the last quarter of the third century AD. In some later depictions, such as on the Arch of Constantine (AD 315), segmented armour is seen, but scholars seem to think it was more for ceremonial show rather than reflecting what was used at the time by soldiers in the field.
Rome had become a republic in 509 BC after throwing out its kings who had – according to legend – reigned for two hundred and fifty years before that. So for the first seven centuries of its history, there was no ‘typically Roman’ segmented armour. The very early republican soldiers would probably have worn bronze helmets, breastplate and greaves and carried a round leather or large circular bronze-plated wooden shield, and fought with a spear, sword and dagger.
According to the ancient Greek historian Polybius, whose Histories written around the 140s BC are the earliest substantial account still existing of the Republic, Roman cavalry was originally unarmoured; the soldiers only wore a tunic and were armed with a light spear and ox-hide shield which were of low quality and quickly deteriorated in action.
In contrast to the lorica segmentata beloved by Hollywood, the more pedestrian and expensive chain mail (lorica hamata) was in use for over 600 years (3rd century BC to 4th century AD) and scale armour (lorica squamata) during the Roman Republic and in later periods. The latter was made from small metal scales sewn to a fabric backing and is typically seen on depictions of signiferes (standard bearers), centurions, cavalry troops, and auxiliary infantry, as well as ordinary legionaries. On occasion, even the emperor would be depicted wearing the lorica squamata. It’s not known exactly when the Romans adopted this type of armour, but it remained in use for about eight centuries.
Fast forward to the fourth century… In contrast to the earlier segmentata plate armour, which afforded no protection for the arms or below the hips, some pictorial and sculptural representations of Late Roman soldiers show mail or scale armour giving more extensive protection. These types of armour had full-length sleeves and were long enough to protect the thighs and other essential parts of the body(!).
In northern Europe, long-sleeved tunics, trousers (bracae), socks (worn inside the caligae) and laced boots had been commonly worn in winter from the 1st century onwards. During the 3rd century, these became much more widespread, with the alternative of leggings, even in Mediterranean provinces also. By the late fourth century, both were standard wear. Apart from more colourful and decorated clothing generally, a distinctive part of a soldier’s fourth century costume was a type of round, brimless hat known as the pannonian cap (pileus pannonicus).
All change for civilian men
In the Republican and early imperial periods, Roman men typically wore short-sleeved or sleeveless, knee-length tunics. On formal occasions, adult male citizens could wear a woollen toga draped over their tunic. But from at least the late Republic onward, the upper classes favoured ever longer and larger togas, increasingly unsuited to manual work or physically active leisure. Togas were expensive, heavy, hot and sweaty, hard to keep clean, costly to launder and challenging to wear correctly. They were best suited to stately processions, oratory, sitting in the theatre or circus, and self-display among peers and inferiors. The vast majority of citizens had to work for a living, and avoided wearing the toga whenever possible. Several emperors tried to compel its use as the public dress of true Romanitas but none were particularly successful. The aristocracy clung to it as a mark of their prestige, but eventually abandoned it for the more comfortable and practical pallium.
By the end of the fourth century, clothing looked radically different and didn’t conform to our idea of ‘typically Roman’. In such a diverse empire, the adoption of provincial fashions perceived was viewed as attractively exotic, or simply more practical than traditional Italian Roman forms of dress. Clothing worn by soldiers and non-military government bureaucrats became highly decorated, with woven or embellished strips, clavi, and circular roundels, orbiculi, added to tunics and cloaks. These decorative elements usually comprised geometrical patterns and stylised plant motifs, but could include human or animal figures. The use of silk also increased steadily and most courtiers in late antiquity wore elaborate silk robes. Court officials as well as soldiers wore heavy military-style belts, revealing the increased militarisation of late Roman government. Trousers and leggings – considered barbarous garments worn by Germans and Persians – became more more common for civilian men in the latter days of the empire, although regarded by conservatives as a sign of cultural decay.
The toga, traditionally seen as the sign of a proper Roman, had never in reality been popular or practical. Most likely, its replacement in the East by the more comfortable pallium or paenula (a wool cloak) was a simple acknowledgement that the toga was generally no longer worn. However, it remained the official formal costume of the Roman senatorial elite. A law issued by co-emperors Gratian, Valentinian II and Theodosius I in 382 AD stated that while senators in the city of Rome may wear the paenula in daily life, they must wear the toga when attending their official duties. Failure to do so would result in the senator being stripped of rank and authority, and of the right to enter the Senate House. But it’s worth noting that in early medieval Europe, kings and aristocrats who dressed like the late Roman generals they sought to emulate, did not display themselves draped in togas.
And the women?
In early Republican Rome, both men and women wore togas but in mid-Republican times, the toga became a male-only garment. Only prostitutes wore a toga as a sign of their ‘infamy’. Typically, women and girls wore a longer, usually sleeved tunic for and married citizen women wore a mantle, usually wool, known as a palla, over a stola, a simple, long-sleeved, voluminous garment fastened at the shoulders that fell to cover the feet. In the early Roman Republic, the stola was reserved for patrician, i.e. aristocratic women as a sign of their status. Shortly before the Second Punic War (218-201 BC), the right to wear it was extended to plebeian matrons, and to freedwomen who had acquired the status of matron through marriage to a citizen.
But things had changed dramatically by the end of the fourth century. Women of that time wore belted long tunics decorated with full-length contrasting stripes – clavi – and braiding, with generous sleeves and, in cooler climates, narrow-sleeved underdresses. That Late Roman tunic, or dalmatica, was a generously cut T-shaped tunic with a slit neck, typically falling in (hopefully) graceful folds. Sleeves could be short, three-quarter or long and rectangular, which could be fairly narrow or quite wide. Wide sleeves were sometimes tied back, presumably for work, giving a butterfly’s wing effect.
The belt, worn under the bust, was often just a tied cord, or could be of plain or decoratively woven cloth and could have a central jewel, perhaps a brooch. As weather protection and ornament, ladies would, like their Republican predecessors, wear various sizes of mantle (palla or the smaller palliola), a rectangular piece of material cast elegantly over the shoulder like a scarf or draped around the body.
Some literature suggests both traditional pagan and Christian respectable ladies would cover their hair in the street but this was not universal.
Ladies would prefer mantles for travel rather than sagum style cloaks, but rural women and athletes were known to wear practical gear for weather protection and presumably camp followers might wear spare military cloaks. The expensive birrus britannicus, mentioned in Diocletian’s edict on maximum prices, was probably a heavy, long semi-circular hooded cape with front opening.
Clothing depended on the wearer’s wealth or poverty, their social status, on the ability to find or make fabric and on personal preference. Sometimes you took what was given when cast off by an older sibling. But over twelve centuries, while some things like tunics performed the same function, how Romans looked changed much more than we might imagine.
Here’s the Blurb
Exile – Living death to a Roman
AD 395. In a Christian Roman Empire, the penalty for holding true to the traditional gods is execution.
Maelia Mitela, her dead husband condemned as a pagan traitor, leaving her on the brink of ruin, grieves for her son lost to the Christians and is fearful of committing to another man.
Lucius Apulius, ex-military tribune, faithful to the old gods and fixed on his memories of his wife Julia’s homeland of Noricum, will risk everything to protect his children’s future.
Galla Apulia, loyal to her father and only too aware of not being the desired son, is desperate to escape Rome after the humiliation of betrayal by her feckless husband.
For all of them, the only way to survive is exile.
Alison Morton writes award-winning thrillers featuring tough but compassionate heroines. Her ten-book Roma Nova series is set in an imaginary European country where a remnant of the Roman Empire has survived into the 21st century and is ruled by women who face conspiracy, revolution and heartache but use a sharp line in dialogue. The latest, EXSILIUM, plunges us back to the late 4th century, to the very foundation of Roma Nova.
She blends her fascination for Ancient Rome with six years’ military service and a life of reading crime, historical and thriller fiction. On the way, she collected a BA in modern languages and an MA in history.
Alison now lives in Poitou in France, the home of Mélisende, the heroine of her two contemporary thrillers, Double Identity and Double Pursuit.
A GLORIOUS SHERLOCK HOLMES-INSPIRED MYSTERY FOR FANS OF NITA PROSE AND JANICE HALLETT
London, 1932.
When Harriet White rebuffs the advances of her boss at the Baker Street building society where she works, she finds herself demoted to a new position… a very unusual position. Deep in the postal department beneath the bank, she is tasked with working her way through a mountain of correspondence addressed to Baker Street’s most famous resident: Mr Sherlock Holmes.
Seemingly undeterred by the fact that Sherlock Holmes doesn’t exist, letter after letter arrives, beseeching him to help solve mysteries, and Harry diligently replies to each writer with the same response: Mr Holmes has retired from detective work and now lives in Sussex, keeping bees.
Until one entreaty catches her eye. It’s from a village around five miles from Harry’s family estate, about a young woman who went to London to work as a domestic, then disappeared soon afterwards in strange circumstances. Intrigued, Harry decides, just this once, to take matters into her own hands.
The Missing Maid by Holly Hepburn is a cosy crime with a rather delightful premise involving 221B Baker Street and Sherlock Holmes.
When our heroine finds herself somewhat unceremoniously ejected from her plush office in the bank, she’s somewhat wary of being redirected to the post room, but once there, she discovers her job is, if anything, somewhat tedious. However, as she types standard replies to the requests asking Sherlock Holmes to resolve problems for those writing to him, she finds herself struck by one of the requests. She is determined to do all she can to help the family while pretending to be Mr Holmes’ secretary.
The mystery leads her to some rather dodgy places in 1930s London, and she gets involved with some rather shady characters as well. She also discovers that the talent for solving crimes is not as easy as she might have hoped.
Harriet, or Harry as she’s called throughout the book, is a fun character with the fiery determination to be expected from a well-to-do young lady trying to make her way in the world in the 1930s when most seem to think all she should do is settle down and marry someone who can keep her in the way she’s accustomed. And that includes her mother.
Her wealthy background both opens doors and precludes her from gaining entry to everywhere she might wish to go. She also has to rely on a family friend for legal advice. This feels quite true to the period.
The mystery’s resolution is well constructed, and I particularly liked that it’s not ‘easy’ for Harry to solve the crime. It takes determination and acknowledging that she can’t do everything herself.
A delightful, cosy crime sure to appeal to fans of Sherlock Holmes and Golden-era crime novels.
Meet the author
Holly Hepburn has wanted to write books for as long she can remember but she was too scared to try. One day she decided to be brave and dipped a toe into the bubble bath of romantic fiction with her first novella, Cupidity, and she’s never looked back. She often tries to be funny to be funny, except for when faced with traffic wardens and border control staff. Her favourite things are making people smile and Aidan Turner.
She’s tried many jobs over the years, from barmaid to market researcher and she even had a brief flirtation with modelling. These days she is mostly found writing.
She lives near London with her grey tabby cat, Portia. They both have an unhealthy obsession with Marmite.
Riddle of the Gods is the riveting fourth novel in the best-selling series chronicling the life and adventures of one of Norway’s most controversial kings, Olaf Tryggvason.
It is AD 976. Olaf Tryggvason, the renegade prince of Norway, has lost his beloved wife to a tragedy that turns the lords of the land he rules against him. With his family gone and his future uncertain, Olaf leaves his realm and embarks on a decades-long quest to discover his course in life.
Though his journey brings him power and wealth, it is not until he encounters the strange man in the streets of Dublin that his path to fame unfolds. And in that moment, he is forced to make a choice as the gods look on – a choice that could, at worst, destroy him and at best, ensure his name lives on forever.
Riddle of the Gods is the fourth book in the Olaf’s Saga series of novels detailing the life of the famous Olaf Tryggvason (the man whose name I can never spell correctly). Riddle of the Gods begins in Wagaria, where Olaf is married and expecting his first child, only for tragedy to strike. Deciding to jump ship rather than being forced out, Olaf leaves Wagaria and determines to change his future by taking up raiding.
Fast forward about six years, and Olaf and his warriors arrive in Ireland to continue their pursuit of wealth. While we hear little of Olaf’s life for the preceding six years, our narrator, Torgil, offers some insights into just how they’ve been growing their wealth. With it, we begin to realise that Olaf is perhaps not the hero we might expect him to be, taking part in enslaving people who fall foul of his blades, even though he was once enslaved himself.
Torgil is our narrator for Olaf’s tale, having once sworn an oath to Olaf’s father to protect a man he considers as his friend. But this friendship is tested as Olaf casts aside any belief that stands in his way of growing wealthy and powerful, and earning himself an enemy in the form of Torgil.
While Torgil returns to Dublin on Olaf’s remarriage, seemingly cast out by his powerful friend, Olaf continues to grow richer and more influential in northern England, although we only hear about this from Torgil’s old ship brothers. Olaf, it transpires, has no problem being less than honest with his fellow warriors, casting Torgil as a traitor when he’s not. The book’s final act follows Torgil as he understands just how far Olaf has fallen in his estimations but also how Olaf isn’t the only one to have put ambition above all else. There will be more to follow in continuing books.
Torgil is an engaging character, and his part in Olaf’s tale is that of an honourable friend pushed to the limits of his endurance. While the two don’t meet again in the final act of the book, it’s to be assumed that they will once more come into conflict with one another in subsequent stories. Olaf himself is a slippery character – knowing full well what lies in Olaf’s future – it’s intriguing to encounter him as a younger warrior, hellbent on achieving as much as he can no matter what.
Riddle of the Gods is sure to appeal to readers of the era and genre—and yes, it might be book 4 in a series—but like me, readers could pick up the tale here quite easily. It is an engaging and confident story that takes the reader from Wagaria to Norway to Ireland and England at the advent of the Second Viking Age.
Eric Schumacher discovered his love for writing and medieval European history at a very early age, as well as authors like J.R.R. Tolkien, C.S. Lewis, Bernard Cornwell, Jack Whyte, and Wilbur Smith. Those discoveries fueled his imagination and continue to influence the stories he tells. His first novel, God’s Hammer, was published in 2005.
At the edge of the world, the clouds of war are gathering…
1034AD
Cast out from the Kyivan Rus, Harald Sigurdsson’s quest for fame and fortune takes him to the far reaches of Europe; the lands of the Eastern Roman empire.
The empire is dying the slow death of decay and corruption. In desperation to fend off a myriad of foes, the emperor turns to the legendary Varangian guard for salvation. These deadly warriors from the far north, famed for their fearsome steel and battle skill, have become the empire’s greatest protectors.
From the golden gate of Constantinople to the holy waters of the river Jordan, Harald will march with the emperor’s finest. Joining their ranks promises him all the gold and glory he can desire, if only he can survive the desperate battles, the hostile land, and the ruthless ambition of a vengeful queen.
Raven Lord is book two in JC Duncan’s epic retelling of Harald Hardrada’s life. I have read book 1.
Harald has found his way to Constantinople with his band of brothers. Now he must learn the ways of politics, elevated to a whole new art in the Eastern Roman Empire, where the new emperor, Michael, and his wife, Zoe, the empress, are a far cry from allies working together to protect their vast empire. And Harald, a man more at home with a blade to hand, must discover how he and his men can not only survive but thrive in this new environment.
Raven Lord is a thrilling tale that takes readers from Constantinople to Edessa and then Jerusalem in the 1030s. It is narrated by Harald’s trusty friend, Eric, who regales his audience with tales of daring deeds as well as his own failures and faults. As Harald’s friend, Eric is often marginalised in the story of Harald’s life, but in recounting the story to a new audience, he achieves something different. I very much enjoyed this minor but important element of the story. I think we can all see where Eric’s leaning!
Harald, still as arrogant and hard-hearted as in book 1, is also shown to be a man with a weakness for a certain woman, and this facet of the story is also very well crafted. For all his battle prowess and willingness to speak his mind and to hell with the consequences, he still has his foibles.
A fabulously entertaining and well-paced tale. A real delight. It is sure to appeal to fans of the genre.
James has a 5 book historical fiction series ‘The Last Viking’ about the extraordinary life of Harald Hardrada being published with Boldwood books starting with ‘Warrior Prince’. When he isn’t writing or doing his full-time engineering job, James is happiest being an amateur bladesmith, forging knives in the shed he built in his garden.
MJ Porter 