I’m delighted to welcome The Bastard Prince of Versailles by Will Bashor to the blog. Check out the snippet below. #HistoricalFiction #Versailles #LGBTBooks #BlogTour #CoffeePotBookClub

I’m delighted to welcome The Bastard Prince of Versailles by Will Bashor to the blog. Check out the snippet below.

On the way to his new chambers, Elizabeth introduced Louis to several courtiers in the galleries. Gentlemen bowed and ladies curtseyed, all the while eyeing his charming smile. Many commented that he had his mother’s dainty features. When Elizabeth and Louis happened upon a clutter of mignons in one of the galleries, Elizabeth took hold of Louis’ hand.

Junger Louis, these are the Italian chevaliers,” she said in a tense tone. “Ignore them.”

The young men stopped conversing upon seeing the newcomer. Elizabeth whispered, “And you’ll soon learn why they are called Italian.”

Louis had never seen young men dressed so frivolously. The sleeves of their shiny, short satin jackets were open from the shoulder to the laced cuffs at the wrist, showing the billowy sleeves of their silk shirts. Their short breeches were elaborately tied with bands of ribbon above the knee, and their red-heeled boots were topped with ruffles or lace garters. 

When Elizabeth caught the minions gawking at Louis, she barked, “Pathetic dolts!” and the mignons vanished from the salon.

As she escorted Louis down the long corridors, she passed an enormous wind. He looked up at her in disbelief.

“This is not Versailles, mein lieber Louis,” she bellowed.

They both chuckled, and Louis knew they were off to a great start. For the next few days, Elizabeth kept him busy settling in, meeting her husband’s bizarre followers, and learning the few rules of court etiquette. It wasn’t Sceaux. And it certainly wasn’t Versailles.

Here’s the blurb:

A historical novel inspired by real events, The Bastard Prince of Versailles,narrates the escapades of a misborn “prince” during the reign of Louis XIV in seventeenth-century France. Louis de Bourbon wasn’t a real prince-even though his father was King Louis XIV. 

The illegitimate son of the King and his mistress, Louise de La Vallière, young Louis has been kept far from the court’s eyes until summoned to bid adieu to his mother. To atone for her adultery, she joins a convent, abandoning Louis to an uncertain future. 

When Louis is humiliated by his father for his role in a secret gay society, he struggles to redeem himself through heroism and self-sacrifice in the king’s army on the battlefield.

Praise for The Bastard Prince of Versailles:

“Will Bashor effortlessly weaves together the threads of fact and fiction, transporting us back to the opulence and intrigue of 17th century France. The author’s research and attention to detail are evident and well applied, never seeming like a dry history lesson but always a hook keeping you turning the pages.

Louis is brought to life with such authenticity that you can’t help but empathize with his journey. As he navigates the treacherous waters of courtly politics and yearns for his father’s approval, you’ll feel a gripping connection to his struggles and triumphs. The rest of the characters are well-crafted as well, each contributing to the rich tapestry of the story.

If you are looking for a unique historical novel that will transport you to another time and leave a lasting impression, this book is an absolute must-read.”

–International Review of Books

Buy Links:

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Meet the author

From Columbus, Ohio, Will earned his Ph.D. from the American Graduate School of Paris. In his spare time, he reads memoirs and researches the lives of royals and their courtiers. He hopes to share his fascination with the Bourbon dynasty and its quirky inhabitants and, at the same time, weave the historical record with creative fiction. He has written articles for the Huffington Post, Age of Revolutions, BBC History Magazine, and Carine Roitfeld’s CR Fashion Book.

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I’m delighted to welcome Tim Walker to the blog to share two extracts from his new short story collection, London Tales. #ShortStories #HistoricalFiction #London #BlogTour #TheCoffeePotBookClub

I’m delighted to welcome Tim Walker to the blog to share two extracts from his new short story collection, London Tales, which feature the River Thames.

Londinium Falling

This story is set in the year 60 CE, at the time of the Boudican Revolt, when the settlement was barely 15 years old. Historians speculate that a bridge across the Thames was constructed around the year 50 CE. This wooden structure was situated next to the modern London Bridge, where solid rock on both banks made it possible for Roman bridge builders to lay the foundations. It is thought that there was a drawbridge in the central span to allow tall-masted galleys to row upstream of the bridge to moor in a natural pool that became the port. It is thought that a settlement on the south bank that would in time become Southwark, sprang up once the bridge was complete.

The Romans adopted the name of the tribal river god, Father Tamesis, as the name for the river. Over time, ‘Tamesis’ became ‘Thames’. Father Tamesis was a feared, spiteful entity who dwelt in the depths of the river, feeding on the bodies of the drowned. Would the ancient Britons have made human sacrifice to appease this feared god?

In this extract, Roman soldiers Marcellus and Septimus join a flotilla of small boats fleeing Boudica’s murderous tribal warriors who killed everyone they found, cutting off many heads that were tossed into the Walbrook (to be discovered in recent times by archaeologists), and burning the settlement to the ground…

The battle was lost and the galley carrying the procurator, centurion and several hundred men had cast off. It was still upstream of the bridge, heading for the wider centre span where a drawbridge was being opened for the high central mast to pass through. Marcellus and his comrades watched the drama unfold as a desperate defence of the raised bridge was put up by a band of plucky legionaries as screaming warriors poured onto the shaking structure. The warriors overpowered and killed the few remaining guards and some terrified civilians and cut away the ropes that held up their leaf of the raised bridge, sending it crashing down, but too late to prevent the galley passing through. There was little they could do apart from shout abuse and hurl what few weapons and objects came to hand. The Romans shielded themselves and shouted abuse back, passing safely into the widening river estuary.

Septimus pointed to a boat ahead of them as the general melee started to fade behind them. “That’s your friend, Lupus, and the brute, Brutus.” The six oarsmen rowed them alongside the smaller boat and Septimus shouted a friendly, “Hail fellow legionaries of the Ninth!” The other boat returned the welcome and threw a rope so the two boats could join…

They followed in the wake of the galley, going with the brown-grey flow of the impassive river, occasionally looking back to see Londinium burning, all red and orange flames, grey smoke spiralling to the skies. It was a funeral pyre for their fallen comrades, a show of utter contempt for the Roman invaders, exposing their weaknesses. It was an indication of the worthlessness of the settlement and all things Roman to the bold Britons who would soon wipe off their paint and melt away into the dark, foreboding forests or salty marshes.

“Are their gods stronger than ours?” Marcellus groaned at the sight of a legionary slipping under the brown, choppy flow as two tribal warriors up to their knees in muddy slime pointed their spears and shouted curses.

“Their flesh-eating god, Tamesis, will grow fat feeding on our brothers,” Septimus sourly replied. “But our generals will return with a greater force to subdue this stubborn island for the lumps of lead and silver in their rocks.”

Marcellus grunted and pulled on an oar, joining a flotilla of boats that followed in the wake of the galley. “Then, I hope they rebuild their towns with high stone walls, as these painted devils have had the taste of victory.”

Burning Shadows

Fast forward to 1666 and the Great Fire of London. In the story Burning Shadows, fugitive and notorious regicide, William Say, enlists the help of a friend to escape the sheriff’s men…

Half an hour later, they were on the raised deck of an elongated skiff with six oarsmen on each side. A family begged for deliverance, but Rook shook his head and ordered his men to cast off.

“I am relieved to be on the river, my friend, as the sheriff’s men nearly had me at the meeting house,” Say explained whilst scanning the shore for sight of his pursuers. “I have also learned that you can find friends in the most unexpected of places.”

“Then it’s God’s will that you are saved, William. To hunt you still for your part in Cromwell’s obsession is unjust, in my view. The Indemnity and Oblivion Act was intended to bring reconciliation and put the past to bed, but the new king uses it only to pursue his vengeance. I warrant we’ll be safe at Richmond.”

“Aye. My thanks again, Sebastian. My old bones cannot take much more of this. But we must spend our time in prayer to the Lord of Hosts to ready our souls for a sterner judgement.” The sight before them was one never to be forgotten, for however many days that remained of the world of Men. The river was a bustle of boats, mainly ferries taking distressed families from the north bank to the south, whilst the sight of St Paul’s burning brightly beneath a sombre, darkened sky, framed a scene of utter devastation. Warehouses along the river burnt fiercely, as did the first three houses on London Bridge in the distance. A warehouse exploded, sending white and blue sparks mixed with yellow high over the river in an unnatural rage, causing a wherry to capsize and the two friends to shudder.

“This has the whiff of God’s judgement, alright,” Rook muttered, gripping the rail as the boat rocked in a gentle swell.

William’s feet were planted wide apart, as he had learned from his Channel crossings. He linked his plump fingers in the act of prayer. “May God our Father watch over my daughter and her family, until such a time as they meet our maker on Judgement Day, whether this be it, or it is yet to be.”

The birds had fled the skies and the only sound was that of oars splashing in the opaque, brown flow of the river as the skiff moved upstream. They rounded a bend so that all that could be seen on the horizon was a column of black smoke rising to the heavens.

“There is meaning in this, but what is the lesson?” Rook asked.

“Either a divine rebuke, the wicked tongue of Satan, or the opening act of Doomsday?” William’s thoughts turned to little Ruth and a tear welled.

“An eye for an eye, ‘til we’re all blinded,” he muttered, wiping his face with a kerchief.

“What’s that, William?” Rook enquired.

“If I gave myself up to the king’s justice, would his revenge be satisfied, and my family be saved from persecution?”

“The king would have your head on a spike, but his thirst for revenge will not be slaked until the last of you is dead,” Rook replied. “This is a man who had Cromwell’s body dug up to display his rotting head on a pole. He would soon find another cause for his vengeful spirit to feast on. Do not doubt the importance of removing his father, the tyrant Charles Stuart, William, and ending the age of absolute monarchy. We shall bide our time, whatever time there is, and if the world doesn’t end, then we shall be here to curb the excesses of this arrogant, restored king. Parliament will rise again.”

William nodded at his friend’s soothing words, but his eyes remained fixed on the foul, black spew issuing from Satan’s gaping maw. All was not well in the world of Men; on that, all could agree.

Here’s the blurb

This collection of eleven tales offers dramatic pinpricks in the rich tapestry of London’s timeline, a city with two thousand years of history. They are glimpses of imagined lives at key moments, starting with a prologue in verse from the point of view of a native Briton tribeswoman absorbing the shock of Roman invasion. The first story is a tense historical adventure set in Roman Londinium in 60 CE from the perspective of terrified legionaries and townsfolk facing the vengeful Iceni queen, Boudica, whose army burnt the fledgling city to the ground.

Further historical dramas take place in 1381 during the Peasant’s Revolt, the Great Fire of London in 1666 and the last ice fair on the frozen Thames in 1814. These are followed by a romance set during the Blitz in 1941, then the swinging Sixties and wide-flared seventies are remembered in the life story of fictional policeman, Brian Smith. Moving on, an East End family get a fright from copycat killings that are a throwback to the 1888 Jack the Ripper murders.

There’s a series of contemporary stories that reference recent events, including the London terrorist bombings of 2005, a literary pub crawl and a daring prison break, building to the imagined death throes of London in a chilling, dystopian vision. These stories are loosely inspired by the author’s personal experiences and reflections on his time living and working in London in the 1980’s and 90’s. Adaptability, resilience, conformity and resolve are recurring themes.

London Tales evokes the city’s rich history and the qualities that were needed by Londoners at various times to survive and prosper – from the base and brutal, devious and inspired, to the refined and civilized.

Available from Amazon in e-book, paperback, Kindle Unlimited and audiobook formats, London Tales is a companion volume to Thames Valley Tales.

Book cover designed by Sean McClean, shows elements from stories.

Buy Link: 

This title is available to read on #KindleUnlimited.

http://mybook.to/LondonTales

Meet the author

Tim Walker is an independent author living near Windsor in the UK. Although born in Hong Kong in the sixties, he grew up in Liverpool where he began his working life as a trainee reporter on a local newspaper. After attaining a degree in Communication Studies he moved to London where he worked in the newspaper publishing industry for ten years before relocating to Zambia where, following a period of voluntary work with VSO, he set up his own marketing and publishing business. He returned to the UK in 2009.

His creative writing journey began in earnest in 2013, as a therapeutic activity whilst recovering from cancer treatment. He began writing an historical fiction series, A Light in the Dark Ages, in 2014, inspired by a visit to the part-excavated site of former Roman town Calleva Atrebatum at Silchester in Hampshire. The series connects the end of Roman Britain to elements of the Arthurian legend and is inspired by historical source material, presenting an imagined historical fiction of Britain in the fifth and early sixth centuries.

The last book in the series, Arthur, Rex Brittonum, was published in June 2020. This is a re-imagining of the story of King Arthur and follows on from 2019’s Arthur Dux Bellorum. Both titles are Coffee Pot Book Club recommended reads. The series starts with Abandoned (second edition, 2018); followed by Ambrosius: Last of the Romans (2017); and book three, Uther’s Destiny (2018). Series book covers are designed by Canadian graphic artist, Cathy Walker.

Tim has also written two books of short stories, Thames Valley Tales (second edition 2023), London Tales (2023); a book of verse, Perverse (2020); a dystopian thriller, Devil Gate Dawn (2016); and three children’s books, co-authored with his daughter, Cathy – The Adventures of Charly Holmes (2017), Charly & the Superheroes (2018) and Charly in Space (2020).

Tim took early retirement on medical grounds and now divides his time between writing and helping out at a Berkshire-based charity, Men’s Matters.

Find out more about the author at his website: www.timwalker1666.wixsite.com/website

Connect with the author

Goodreads Author Page:    Amazon Author Page

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I’m welcoming The Middle Generation by M.B.Zucker to the blog, with an excerpt from the book #HistoricalFiction #MonroeDoctrine #JohnQuincyAdams #BlogTour #CoffeePotBookClub

Excerpt

“The Emperor authorized me to make the following proposal to your government,” the Baron de Tuyll, Russia’s minister, said, “though I request you inform me in advance of declination. In that case, it shall remain informal.” A dark figure, wearing black with a red collar and gold tassels on his shoulders, the medals won fighting Napoleon’s Grande Armée pinned to his uniform. His accent was a baritone deeper than any I’d ever heard, the croak of a man broken from lifelong service to his sire. Other voices modified via emotion—happiness, tenderness, hatred, vexation, and so on. 

Not the Baron’s. His was the voice of a man who hated the world and everyone in it, including his master. 

“What proposal? I asked. We spoke in English. 

“He wants the United States to ratify the Holy Alliance Treaty.” 

A moment. “He’s sincere?” 

“Yes. The Alliance is a league of peace. The United States would strengthen their ties to its members by joining.” 

“But the treaty is a collection of sovereigns’ autographs. It excludes republics.” 

“The Swiss cantons were invited and acceded.” 

“I thought the Alliance was hostile to the United States.” 

“The Alliance is hostile to anarchy.” 

“We’re not responsible for the French Revolution. The President and I interpret the Alliance as promoting the divine right of kings to rule over humanity. Our constitution is incompatible with such a view.” 

“Will you communicate his proposal to the President?” 

“Yes. Though two-thirds of the Senate must vote for our joining.” 

“I see,” he said. “Do you believe they will?” 

“No.”

“That is unfortunate. The Emperor wishes for your country and for Britain to join.” 

“He invited Britain?” I asked. He nodded. “The same problem, King George can’t sign it without Parliament. I don’t grasp why the Alliance invites our countries. Britain has a monarchy but elects her legislature. The Alliance recently crushed republican efforts in Naples and the Piedmont.  Why would we join such an entity?” 

“The Emperor is optimistic that Britain will join. It will be to the world’s benefit if London and Washington adhere to the Alliance’s influence. The treaty contains no specific points but sets an ideal for global peace.” 

“A peace built on despotism.” 

“You’ll communicate his proposal to the President?” 

“Yes. Is that all?” 

“No. We must discuss the South American war.” 

“Why? Last year’s armistice is stable and peace talks are ongoing. Royalist rebels harass the republics like gnats do elephants, but I expect the war to end by 1822.” 

“That cannot happen under current conditions. The continent’s revolution insults Europe’s monarchs and threatens her security. The guilty continent must return, through peaceful means or through arms, into the Alliance’s protection.” 

Lines so wide that Noah’s animals could walk through them with not just their mate but their whole menagerie. “The Alliance wants to conquer South America?” 

“The Alliance will restore Spain’s dominion. South America will receive greater autonomy than it did previously and will have open trade with all nations.” A pause. “American independence caused the French Revolution. South American independence cannot bring a similar catastrophe to Europe.” 

“So your invitation to join the Alliance is meant to nullify objection to aggression toward this hemisphere?” 

“To cooperate for the good of the world. The Emperor is anxious that a general peace be built. Embers burn in Europe that must not flame again.” 

“Embers of men and women who yearn for freedom. His route toward peace involves destroying an entire hemisphere. You must know we’ll never agree to this and neither will Britain. She’s invested enormous resources into supporting the South American rebels.” 

“We have ways of persuading her.” 

“Why alert us to your intent?” 

“To reduce your government’s anxiety so it will not attempt to stop what it cannot.” 

“What cannot be stopped is the inevitable doom of Europe’s masters,” I said. “Its people have been taught to inquire why certain men possess enjoyment at their expense. Civil wars shall rage in Europe until the total ruin of feudal constitutions has been achieved.” 

“The Emperor bears no hostility toward the United States or their institutions. You know this because you worked with him as a minister. I’m saddened to learn you do not reciprocate his respect. He views South American independence as a coming apocalypse that threatens man’s connection to Christ through divine rulers. Your country will lose much and gain nothing by resisting what is necessary for a lasting peace. I pray your government takes his proposal seriously.” 

“I’ll confer what we’ve discussed to the President.” 

“Thank you.” 

I escorted him from my office and Maury led him out of the building. Then I returned to my desk and analyzed his words. I’d feared the Holy Alliance’s intentions for six years and finally its intervention was upon us. America had no choice but to resist and we had no hope of defeating Europe’s combined might. 

Here’s the blurb

The classical era of American history began with the Revolution and ended with emancipation. Between these bookends lies the absorbing yet overshadowed epic of a new nation spearheading liberty’s cause in a world skeptical of freedom arriving at all, much less in slaver’s garb. M. B. Zucker takes readers back to that adolescent country in the care of an enigmatic guide, John Quincy Adams, heir to one president by blood and another, Washington, by ideology. Adams is the missing link between the founders and Abraham Lincoln, and is nigh unanimously regarded as America’s foremost Secretary of State. Through Adams’ eyes, readers will experience one of history’s greatest and most forgotten crises: his showdown with Europe over South American independence, the conflict which prefigured the Monroe Doctrine. 

With his signature dialogue and his close study of Adams’ 51 volume diary, M. B. Zucker’s The Middle Generation is a political thriller and character piece that surpasses his achievement in The Eisenhower Chronicles and ascends to the cinematic heights of the historical epics of David Lean and Steven Spielberg. It is an unforgettable portrait and a leap forward for one of our rising historical fiction novelists. 

Buy Links: 

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Barnes & Noble:

The title will be available in several Barnes and Noble stores in the DC / Northern Virginia area.

Meet the author


M. B. Zucker has been interested in storytelling for as long as he can remember. He devoted himself to historical fiction at fifteen and earned his B.A. at Occidental College and his J.D. at Case Western Reserve University School of Law. He lives in Virginia with his family. He is the author of three other novels. Among his honors is the Best Fictional Biography Award at the 2023 BookFest.

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I’m excited to welcome Penny Ingham and her novel, Twelve Nights, to the blog #HistoricalMystery #MurderMystery #BlogTour #TheCoffeePotBookClub

I’m excited to welcome Penny Ingham and her novel, Twelve Nights, to the blog. I adored this book. Check out the excerpt below, and you can find my review at the bottom of the post.

Excerpt

Magdalen was beginning to wish she had crept back to Silver Street. Her world had turned upside down and she had no idea how to set it right again. She put her head in her hands, and her obvious distress cast an even greater pall over the gathering. At length, William Kempe’s bulbous eyes slid to the landlord.

‘Perhaps Francis murdered John? He’s best placed to slip something in his beer.’ 

They all turned to look at Francis Johnson. He was dunking dirty cups into a bucket of equally dirty water before slamming them back onto the board. 

‘It’s possible,’ Burbage replied. ‘But I’ve never taken Johnson for a murderer. And what motive could he have?’

‘None that I can think of,’ Kempe admitted.

Magdalen remembered Richard Cowley’s rapier piercing John’s doublet. Could it have nicked John’s skin? If the tip was poisoned, could it have been enough to kill him? She looked up, into Richard’s eyes. 

‘Poison is a woman’s weapon,’ he repeated, seeming to have read her mind. ‘A coward’s game. There’s no honour in it.’

‘When is there ever honour in murder?’ she shot back but Richard had already turned away, gesturing to a serving girl for more Mad Dog.

The shadows lengthened. The landlord lit the fire, the serving girls laid out soggy saffron cakes, and the players’ spirits began to lift, warmed by the crackling fire, and by wine and cakes and ale. And with every cup of Rhenish she drank, Magdalen’s spirits lifted a little too. The tavern was starting to fill up. Word spread fast through Shoreditch, and now all the poets and playwrights who had ever felt envious of Burbage’s lauded band of brothers were crawling out of the woodwork to gloat over their misfortune.

Christopher Marlowe arrived, and the tavern lit up as if the stars had fallen through the thatch. He greeted them all in turn, embracing some, kissing others on the lips. But he offered no kiss to Will. Instead, they simply shook hands like two fencers before a bout. It seemed fitting, for they were presently engaged in an increasingly spectacular play-writing dual, lobbing masterpieces at each other across the Thames. When Marlowe attacked with the gore-fest Tamburlaine, Will struck back with blood-soaked Titus Andronicus. Marlowe lunged with his study of a weak king, Edward the Second, so Will parried with Richard the Second. All of London was waiting to see how Will would respond to Marlowe’s The Jew of Malta.

‘William.’ Marlowe released Will’s hand, and moved on.

‘Christopher,’ Will replied and turned back to his beer.

Magdalen found their relationship hard to fathom, but hidden beneath the jealousy and rivalry, she often suspected a lurking mutual respect. 

Stepping over Robert Greene, who had fallen asleep on the floor, Marlowe sat down beside her. ‘How now, Magdalen?’

She nodded absently. She had drunk a great deal of Rhenish, but she would never admit her inebriation, not even to Marlowe because it was not seemly. But he must have noticed her glazed expression because that familiar, half-smile was playing on his lips, as if he was enjoying his own private joke at the world’s expense. Although he was fast approaching thirty years of age, there was still a boyish charm to his features; the soft doe-eyes, the beard-less cheeks, the wisps of a moustache above full, generous lips.

‘I think you’ve had enough of this.’ He picked up her cup of Rhenish, and proceeded to drain it.

‘Hey!’ she exclaimed but it was a half-hearted protest, for her head was pounding like cannon fire.

‘You will have heard about the constable?’ she said quietly. 

‘Edmund Stow is highly fed and lowly taught. Pay no heed to him,’ Marlowe replied airily.

‘But what if the Puritans bribe the coroner to convict me? We all know they are looking for an excuse to close us down.’ 

He shook his head. ‘I won’t let that happen.’ 

She wished she could believe him, but Marlowe was the most unreliable man on earth. He had recently fought in a brawl which had resulted in an inn-keeper’s death. Although it was his friend, Thomas Watson, who had struck the fatal blow, they were both hauled off to Newgate prison to await trial. Marlowe had been released a month later, miraculously without charge. Perhaps he really did believe he was invincible now. In the history books in Will’s room the ancient Greeks had called it hubris, and no good had ever come of it.

‘You look like Christmas, Magdalen.’ 

‘Christmas?’ she repeated, bemused. 

‘Yes, your green kirtle, your red jacket.’ Marlowe broke into song, ‘the holly and the ivy, when they are both full grown.’ He had a beautiful baritone voice.

‘And you look -’ she eyed his tawny-orange doublet slashed to reveal yellow satin beneath; the wafer-soft, wide collar falling across his shoulders; the row of shiny buttons marching down his chest and belly. He had come into money recently, of that there was no doubt. ‘You look like a pageant, as always, Marlowe.’

‘Tawny is the colour of mourning, is it not?’ he asked with feigned innocence. 

Magdalen laughed, but it made her head hurt.

‘You remind me of my sister,’ he said, suddenly serious.

‘I didn’t know you had a sister,’ she said, taken aback.

‘Her laugh sounded just like yours. There was something so joyous about it.’ 

Magdalen noticed he was using the past tense. ‘Is she -’ she began cautiously, but Marlowe spoke over her.

‘She was married at twelve years old, and she died in childbirth at the age of thirteen.’ 

Magdalen’s heart lurched with pity. ‘Oh! I am so sorry…’ 

He was staring into the distance now, his eyes full of bitterness and remembered grief. Marlowe was a man of bluster and bravado; his every word designed to shock or offend. She had known him for ten years and in all that time, she had never seen his defences down. But now, the window to his soul was open wide and the view was so unexpected and so intimate, she felt obliged to hastily avert her eyes.

When Marlowe spoke again, he no longer sounded sad but angry. ‘Answer me this. How can you have faith in God when he allowed my sister to die in agony?’

Here’s the blurb

1592. The Theatre, London.

When a player is murdered, suspicion falls on the wardrobe mistress, Magdalen Bisset, because everyone knows poison is a woman’s weapon. The coroner is convinced of her guilt. The scandal-pamphlets demonize her.

Magdalen is innocent, although few are willing to help her prove it. Only handsome Matthew Hilliard offers his assistance, but dare she trust him when nothing about him rings true?

With just two weeks until the inquest, Magdalen ignores anonymous threats to ‘leave it be’, and delves into the dangerous underworld of a city seething with religious and racial tension. As time runs out, she must risk everything in her search for the true killer – for all other roads lead to the gallows.

Buy Links:

This title is available to read on #KindleUnlimited.

Universal Link: https://books2read.com/u/bpYRlk

Meet the author

Penny has a degree in Classics, and a passion for archaeology – during the summer months, you will often find her on her a ‘dig’ with a trowel in her hand. She has had a variety of jobs over the years, including ice-cream seller, theatre PR, BBC local radio, and TV critic for a British Forces newspaper. 

She has written four novels – ‘The King’s Daughter’ is the story of Aethelflaed, Lady of the Mercians. ‘The Saxon Wolves’ and ‘The Saxon Plague’ are set in the turbulent aftermath of Roman Britain. Her inspiration for Twelve Nights grew from her love of the theatre in general, and Shakespeare in particular. 

Penny has two grown up children and lives with her husband in Hampshire.

Connect with the author

Penny Ingham (wordpress.com)

Penny Ingham (@pennyingham) / Twitter

Penny Ingham Author Page | Facebook

Penny Ingham (@penny.ingham) • Instagram photos and videos

Amazon.co.uk: Penny Ingham: Books, Biography, Blogs, Audiobooks, Kindle

Penny Ingham (Author of The Saxon Wolves) | Goodreads

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I read Twelve Nights last year and it was one of my Books of 2022, check out the review here.

Today, I’m delighted to welcome NL Holmes and her new book, The Moon That Fell From Heaven to the blog #Hittites #WomenProtagonists #PoliticalIntrigue #HistoricalFiction #BlogTour #TheCoffeePotBookClub

Welcome to the blog. Can you tell me about your new novel.

Although much of it was done a long time ago, when I began teaching a course that involved a cultural and historical look at Ugarit, tackling a series of books set in an obscure city state in the Late Bronze Age did require some academic snooping. Times and places about which we know relatively little are a mixed blessing: one always wishes one had more clues to hang fiction upon, but in those gaps where we know nothing, plausible imagination is OK for the novelist. Still, I didn’t want to contradict anything we knew for sure to be true, so there was a lot to learn. I bought a lot of books.

To me, a person with a soft spot for words, one of the most interesting things I began to find out about was the literary tradition of Ugarit. Fortunately for us—and unfortunately for the inhabitants of the city in about 1190 BCE, when the city fell never to rise again—Ugarit was put to the torch, baking and preserving the clay tablets upon which information was recorded. A whole private library of texts was among the tablets discovered, opening to modern scholars a wonderful new world of mythological epic. 

The author of some of the most complete of these was a certain scribe named Ili-milku, born in the near-by kingdom of Shiyannu. He eventually held the post of chief scribe of Ugarit but evidently still had time to write. It’s likely that, rather than composing the Cycle from scratch, he compiled and wrote down a definitive edition of a slew of tales that had been recited orally for a long time, much like Homer. He is the third point-of-view character in The Moon That Fell from Heaven. More about him in a moment.

Since their discovery in the 1930s, we have been exposed to Ugaritic narratives about Kirta, a Job-like figure of patience in suffering. About Aqhat, the long-prayed-for son of a childless couple. About Ba’al, the storm god, and various lesser divine figures like the Gracious Gods or Horon. Biblical scholars immediately noticed not only themes similar to those of the Hebrew Bible, but also literary forms that occur in the Bible. This shouldn’t surprise us, as the entire world of the eastern Mediterranean, which we may generalize as Canaanite, shared a closely related culture and languages. The Ugaritic high god Ilu, for example, is the same as El and means simply “god.” Ba’al is “the lord,” the rider of the clouds. But the gods of Ugarit were not omnipotent, by any means. They were closely associated with the phenomena of nature, and like nature, they did a lot of dying and resurrecting. Other parallels—with the Greek world—are striking too. Anat the Maiden is a virgin warrior goddess like Athena, for example. The Bronze Age was a world of global interconnection!

When the fictional Ili-milku is held hostage, he finds himself forced to critique endless poems his captor has written. This activity is possible because scholars have worked out that all the mythological stories that have come down to us from Ugarit are actually in verse. Their idea of poetry—like that of the Biblical authors—didn’t require rhyme or even meter. It was free verse, you might say. But it used very definite patterns of language, repetitions, build-ups, parallels. In short, it was constructed pretty much the same way modern Near Eastern poetry is, an interesting continuity of more than 3000 years.

How were these poetic narratives used? Some seem as if they might have been liturgical drama, with choral parts. Others were perhaps sung or chanted in temples or even around the campfire. Unfortunately, there’s no way to know until someone finds some stage directions. But even so, they shed a lot of light on how the people of Ugarit viewed their world, what they valued, how their society was structured. I’m glad to have studied them, because they bring a whole population closer and make them more human. I hope I’ve accomplished a little of that myself by turning a bit of their human drama into fiction.

Thank you for for sharing. Good luck with the new book.

Here’s the blurb

Ehli-nikkalu, eldest daughter of the Hittite emperor, is married to a mere vassal of her father’s. But despite her status, her foreignness and inability to produce an heir drive a wedge between her and the court that surrounds her. When her secretary is mysteriously murdered while carrying the emperor a message that would indict the loyalty of his vassal, Ehli-nikkalu adopts the dead man’s orphaned children out of a guilty sense of responsibility.

A young cousin she has never met becomes a pretender to the throne and mobilizes roving armies of the poor and dispossessed, which causes the priority of her loyalties to become even more suspect. However, Ehli-nikkalu discovers a terrible secret that could destabilize the present regime if the pretender ever learns of it.

With the help of a kindly scribe, her brave young ward, and an embittered former soldier trapped in debt and self-doubt, Ehli-nikkalu sets out to save the kingdom and prove herself to her father. And along the way, she learns something about love.

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N.L. Holmes is the pen name of a professional archaeologist who received her doctorate from Bryn Mawr College. She has excavated in Greece and in Israel and taught ancient history and humanities at the university level for many years. She has always had a passion for books, and in childhood, she and her cousin used to write stories for fun.

These days she lives in France with her husband, two cats, geese, and chickens, where she gardens, weaves, dances, and plays the violin

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I’m delighted to welcome Heidi Eljarbo and her new book The Warmth of Snow to the blog ChristmasRomance #SweetRomance #RegencyRomance #BlogTour #TheCoffeePotBookClub

Here’s a snippet

She flung the long-strapped bag on her back and helped the stableboy saddle the gray horse. Soon, she was on her way to town. The first seven cards were meant for elderly widows, gentle women Erica visited from time to time. Most of them had known her mother, and Erica gladly sat and listened to these women repeat their memories of how her sweet mother had spent time with them.

The last cottage she visited belonged to her elderly friend Ingela.

“I have one card left,” Erica said.

“Say, why don’t you ride to Castle Linborg? I heard the count returned from soldiering a while back. He used to be out and about all the time, talking to people and helping them settle disputes. He even showed up unannounced if someone was in need. But since he returned from war down in Europe, hardly anyone has seen him. His reputation as a fair and good nobleman has dwindled since he’s been away from the public eye. Now, rumors say he keeps to himself and has become both grumpy and of little use to people in our area.”

Castle Linborg? Twice Erica had received advice to go there. Although she had considered going there to spite Aunt Brita, here was the same suggestion from dear, old Ingela. The woman had been more family to her than the foursome at Holst Manor had ever been. Erica pulled the inkbottle and quill out of her bag and placed them next to the last card on the table.

“I’ll go see him then.”

“Do you dare? Will you knock on the door of an aristocrat who has the power to make your life miserable if things don’t go his way.”

Erica smiled back. “You just said the count used to be fair and good. My guess is that he still is… And although perhaps these traits are now hidden, there must be a reason for it.” She wrote his name on the back of the last card.

Count August Brandell of Linborg.

Why not try?

Here’s the blurb

There must be a way to thaw a heart long frozen. Can she help him, or does he have other plans?

Sweden 1810.
August Brandell, the count of Linborg, has returned home after four years of war against the French Empire under the direction of Napoléon Bonaparte. Wounded and downtrodden, he is a meager shadow of the man he used to be.
One day, a lovely young woman comes calling. She’s strong and bright and, unlike the rest, seems unaffected by his wealth and unfortunate disability. He soon discovers he wants more than a sweet friendship, but a life of caring for him would not be fair to such a beautiful soul. Oh, how dearly, deeply he loves her and secretly wants her to stay, but he cannot and will not ask such a sacrifice from her…especially not when it’s out of pity for him.

Erica Gustava Ebbesdotter has primarily been left to herself since she was orphaned at an early age. Although grateful to her aunt and uncle for taking her in, they pay her no attention and even keep her in the dark about her parents.
Hearing about Count Brandell’s unfortunate fate on the battlefield, she knocks on the door at Castle Linborg to leave him a card of encouragement.
Meeting Count Brandell changes Erica’s entire world. Falling for him is utterly unexpected. Soon, he fills her heart, but he is far above her station. How can a man like him see beyond her less refined clothes and past? Worst of all, he is already betrothed.

This is a sweet and wholesome historical romance—a hauntingly beautiful tale of two hearts meant to be together.

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HEIDI ELJARBO grew up in a home full of books, artwork, and happy creativity. She is the author of award-winning historical novels filled with courage, hope, mystery, adventure, and sweet romance in the midst of challenging times. She’s been named a master of dual timelines and often writes about strong-willed women of past centuries.

After living in Canada, six US states, Japan, Switzerland, and Austria, Heidi now calls Norway home. She lives with her husband on a charming island and enjoys walking their Wheaten Terrier in any kind of weather, hugging her grandchildren, and has a passion for art and history. 

Her family’s chosen retreat is a mountain cabin, where they hike in the summer and ski the vast white terrain during winter.

Heidi’s favorites are her family, God’s beautiful nature, and the word whimsical.

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I’m delighted to welcome Anna Belfrage to the blog with a guest post about her new book, Times of Turmoil #AmericanColonialHistory #timetravel #historicalfiction #historicalromance

I’m delighted to welcome Anna Belfrage to the blog with a post about her main characters.

When loving came with severe restrictions – of anti-miscegenation laws in Colonial America

In 1967, the Supreme Court of the United States unanimously concluded that state laws forbidding interracial relations were in breach of the 14th amendment to the Constitution. Mildred and Richard Loving no longer needed to worry they’d be fined or incarcerated for loving each other. 1967. Not that long ago, is it?

Anti-miscegenation laws were adopted by several of the British American Colonies. First in Maryland, then in Virginia, and subsequently in several others. The laws were harsh and had as their purpose to ensure the races were kept “separate”—well, beyond the obvious intermingling that occurred when a white slave owner decided to sleep with his black slave. Not that much of a problem according to the legislators, as any child born to a slave was automatically defined as a slave. Initially, the laws forbade marriage between a white person and an enslaved or indentured person of colour – probably because this would cause confusion as to the legal status of the unfree person and encroach on the property rights of said unfree person’s “owner”. Over time, the laws were expanded to include any person of colour, free or not. In some states, the laws were extremely detailed, forbidding not only relations between white and black, white and coloured, but also between black and Native American.

Obviously, these laws reflect the biases of a slave-based economy. If, on the one hand, you were arguing that people of colour were less equal than a white person—so much less equal, in fact, that it was perfectly okay to enslave them—it would be difficult to, on the other hand, welcome a person of colour as your equal in the salons of society. Not even a free person of colour could/should be treated as an equal. Yes, they were no longer slaves, but they were definitely “lesser”. 

I had never fully immersed myself in researching this dark side of history until I ended up with a woman of colour as my protagonist. Initially, I didn’t even reflect on the fact that Erin Barnes was of mixed race. Yes, I’d given her a half Afghani, half British grandmother, and yes, said lady was very much in love with her black US Army  veteran, but I found that aspect of Erin relatively unimportant. I was far more interested in her pursuit of justice for her murdered grandmother and her determination to use all her investigative skills to achieve this, despite the obvious risks to herself. 

“You did not notice how beautiful she is?” Duncan asks, sounding shocked. “You didn’t see that her skin is like molten syrup, her hair a cloud of darkest gold?” 
Umm . . . No, I didn’t. Not really. And obviously, Duncan is biased—he has been since he first saw Erin. 

Frankly, it wasn’t until Duncan and Erin ended up in 1715 that it struck me just how difficult life would be for her in this new time. Duncan, of course, immediately realised this, and did what he could to protect her—namely marry her. Fortunately for him, at the time they were in London, where there were no legal prohibitions to wedding someone of a different colour. There were, however, societal reservations, but Duncan didn’t much care. 

After a sequence of adventures, my couple returned to Maryland—briefly. Soon enough, Duncan realised that even with the protection of his name and wealth—and that of his powerful friends—Annapolis would never tolerate this union between a white man and a woman of colour. So they moved north, to Pennsylvania.

What exactly was a white man risking by marrying a woman of colour? Well, if a white man had sexual relations with a free woman of colour (note that it was okay for a slave owner to have sexual relations with an enslaved woman of colour) and chose to live with her, they could both be indentured for decades. Should he be foolish enough to marry her, indentureship converted to enslavement—for both of them. And not necessarily together. 

Despite these frightening consequences, there are documented cases of people still choosing to marry the person they loved, no matter the colour of their skin. In one of the more well-known cases, an Irish girl named Nell Butler fell in love with and married a black slave, known only as Negro Charles. She thereby became the property of her hubby’s owner, as did all their future children. 

As made obvious already in the opening paragraph, anti-miscegenation laws were to remain in existence in many of the US states well into the twentieth century. And throughout all those years of prohibition, as regular as clockwork, cases would crop up where people loved so hard they were willing to face the consequences. It if wasn’t so very, very sad, it would almost be romantic. 

Moving Erin and Duncan to Pennsylvania only bought them a few years of grace: in 1725 the colony of Pennsylvania pushed through their own anti-miscegenation laws. My imaginary couple must now find a new home, but sadly I suspect that wherever they go in the early 18th century they will be met by gasps and avid curiosity. A woman of colour—no matter how beautiful—did not belong with a successful white man. Not, at least, as his wife. 

“Pah!” Duncan says, drawing Erin close enough to give her a resounding kiss. “What do I care what others think?”

It is not quite as easy for Erin to be dismissive of the opprobrium she so often faces. But she tries, putting on a brave face while swallowing whispered insults and insinuations. But now and then, the independent, modern Erin just can’t hold back—which at times leads to very, very difficult situations! 

Thank you for sharing such an interesting post. I imagine your characters have a few tough moments to survive.

Here’s the blurb:

It is 1718 and Duncan Melville and his time traveller wife, Erin, are concentrating on building a peaceful existence for themselves and their twin daughters. Difficult to do, when they are beleaguered by enemies.

Erin Melville is not about to stand to the side and watch as a child is abused—which is how she makes deadly enemies of Hyland Nelson and his family.

Then there’s that ghost from their past, Armand Joseph Chardon, a person they were certain was dead. Apparently not. Monsieur Chardon wants revenge and his sons are tasked with making Duncan—and his wife—pay. 

Things aren’t helped by the arrival of Duncan’s cousin, fleeing her abusive husband. Or the reappearance of Nicholas Farrell in their lives, as much of a warped bully now as he was when he almost beat Duncan to death years ago. Plus, their safety is constantly threatened as Erin is a woman of colour in a time and place where that could mean ostracism, enslavement or even death.

Will Duncan and Erin ever achieve their simple wish – to live and love free from fear of those who wish to destroy them?

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Meet the author

Had Anna been allowed to choose, she’d have become a time-traveller. As this was impossible, she became a financial professional with two absorbing interests: history and writing. Anna has authored the acclaimed time travelling series The Graham Saga, set in 17th century Scotland and Maryland, as well as the equally acclaimed medieval series The King’s Greatest Enemy which is set in 14th century England.  

Anna has also published The Wanderer, a fast-paced contemporary romantic suspense trilogy with paranormal and time-slip ingredients. 

More recently, Anna has been hard at work with her Castilian series. The first book, His Castilian Hawk, published in 2020, is set against the complications of Edward I’s invasion of Wales, His Castilian Hawk is a story of loyalty, integrity—and love. In the second instalment, The Castilian Pomegranate, we travel with the protagonists to the complex political world of medieval Spain, while the third, Her Castilian Heart, finds our protagonists back in England—not necessarily any safer than the wilds of Spain! The fourth book, Their Castilian Orphan, is scheduled for early 2024.

Anna has recently released Times of Turmoil, the sequel to her 2021 release, The Whirlpools of Time. Here she returns to the world of time travel. Where The Whirlpools of Time had Duncan and the somewhat reluctant time-traveller Erin navigating the complexities of the first Jacobean rebellion in Scotland, in Times of Turmoil our protagonists are in Colonial Pennsylvania, hoping for a peaceful existence. Not about to happen—not in one of Anna’s books!  

All of Anna’s books have been awarded the IndieBRAG Medallion, she has several Historical Novel Society Editor’s Choices, and one of her books won the HNS Indie Award in 2015. She is also the proud recipient of various Reader’s Favorite medals as well as having won various Gold, Silver and Bronze Coffee Pot Book Club awards.

Find out more about Anna, her books and enjoy her eclectic historical blog on her website, www.annabelfrage.com  

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I’m delighted to be sharing an excerpt from Victoria Atamian Waterman’s new novel, Who She Left Behind. HistoricalFiction #ArmenianFiction #WomensFiction #WhoSheLeftBehind #BlogTour #TheCoffeePotBookClub 

I’m delighted to be sharing an excerpt from Victoria Atamian Waterman’s new novel, Who She Left Behind.

“Marta tells me your needlelace is very lovely, and you’re a good teacher.”

“Thank you, Miss Jeppe,” Victoria said. 

“It’s important to me that my girls leave here with dignity, knowing their value and confident in their abilities.” 

Victoria nodded. 

“It’s not enough to churn out girls who can work a loom or stitch a hem, you see. Your people, your culture, they must be preserved even as you scatter into the world. We send girls back to their families when we can. We find them marriages, but most of all we give them the gift of self-sufficiency.”

“It’s a great gift,” Victoria said. “It’s a terrible thing to feel powerless.”

Miss Jeppe dipped her chin in acknowledgment. “Authenticity and quality,” Miss Jeppe continued. “These make your products desirable, they command the best prices in the market. Fine lace and beautiful weavings bring your beautiful history to the eyes of the world and ensure your people aren’t forgotten.” 

Victoria nodded again, unsure why she was singled out for this conversation. It was a speech Miss Jeppe and her volunteers made often. “Marta tells me you want to help us with our work.”

“Yes, I do.”

Victoria’s pulse skipped. This was why.

Here’s the blurb

Who She Left Behind” is a captivating historical fiction novel that spans generations and delves into the emotional lives of its characters. Set in various time periods, from the declining days of the Ottoman Empire in Turkey in 1915 to the Armenian neighborhoods of Rhode Island and Massachusetts in the 1990s, the novel completely immerses its reader in a lesser-known era and the untold stories of the brave and resilient women who became the pillars of reconstructed communities after the Armenian Genocide.

It is a story of survival, motherhood, love, and redemption based on the recounted stories from the author’s own family history. The narrative is framed by a mysterious discovery made almost six decades later of a pair of Armenian dolls left at a gravesite.  

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Meet the author

Victoria Atamian Waterman is an Armenian American storyteller and speaker who draws inspiration from the quirky multigenerational, multilingual home in which she was raised with her grandparents, survivors of the Armenian Genocide.

Her empowerment of today’s women and girls makes her voice ideal for telling the little-known stories of yesterday’s women leaders. Her TED Talk, “Today’s Girls are Tomorrow’s Leaders” has been seen by thousands of viewers. When she is not writing and speaking, she is reading, puzzle-making and volunteering.

Victoria lives in Rhode Island and is enjoying this next chapter of life with her husband, children, and grandchildren. “Who She Left Behind” is her first novel. 

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I’m delighted to welcome Rebecca Rosenberg and The Champagne Widows to the blog today ChampagneHistory #FrenchHistory #ChampagneWidows #BlogTour #TheCoffeePotBookClub #CPBC

I’m delighted to welcome Rebecca Rosenberg and The Champagne Widows to the blog today.

Join in on Rebecca Rosenberg’s

TREASURE HUNT!

(or, digging for research nuggets that lead to Gold!)

Did you ever make a treasure hunt or hide eggs for children? I’ve done more hunts than I can possibly remember. But, everyday I find myself digging for treasure when I’m writing a novel. I’ll use examples from my novels to explain. 

Add your own examples below in comments! We’ll choose a lucky winner for a paperback of Madame Pommery, Creator of Brut Champagne!

  1. The Chatelaine: Have you seen a Chatelaine in a Museum? A Chatelaine, means “mistress of a castle”, and is a chain holding various and sundry household tools like sand timers, needles, thimbles, scissors, magnifying glass. Madame Pommery received a Châtelaine from her husband for her birthday, much like getting a mop or set of deluxe sponges. What does it say about their relationship and her life? 

Each novel has many “props” that speak volumes about a character. It can be a personal item like a locket, or a vanity mirror with a large crack in it, or a wine-tasting cup, like Veuve Clicquot received from her great-grandmother. I also consider transportation, the environment, where the character lives, and what she wears (or doesn’t wear, as in my upcoming novel, SILVER DOLLAR) All of these can be intriguing symbols of the character and her plight.

  • Curse or Gift? In Champagne Widows, Barbe Nicole-Clicquot is told she has Le Nez, the Nose, an extraordinary sense of smell that makes her a great wine maker. It also makes her particular, persnickety, and difficult. Her parents say Le Nez is a curse. Her grandmother says it is a gift that will change her life by making her an extraordinary wine maker.

Character traits form a character’s personality and also sets a course for her future. An ironic character trait makes for controversial and delectable conflict and soul-searching.

  • Unrequited Love: I write Biographical Historical Fiction about real women who lived in our past. Inevitably there’s a love that did not work out. These are gold nuggets! Why didn’t they work out? Who was hurt? What are the consequences? Could they ever get together? And if not, how do they feel about it? All of these aspects of unrequited love add such emotion to a story. 

In Madame Pommery, Creator of Brut Champagne, she hires a young intern, fifteen years younger than her, and his intelligence and helpfulness make her slowly fall in love with him, though it is quite inappropriate. She cannot marry him, or by law he’d own Pommery Champagne House. Ah, unrequited love.

  • Family squabbles: Families are usually an unresolved dilemma. Madame Pommery has trouble with her son who wants to run the champagne house without knowing what to do. She has trouble with her daughter because the toddler is always underfoot. Her mother is cold and unloving. Ouch! Family differences make good reading, especially when they create havoc for the protagonist. To research information about these family squabbles, I look at the available facts and extrapolate what they could mean. For example, Madame Pommery’s son is 17 when she starts the winery, and he doesn’t join the business for 5 years. Even then, he was not given an important position. And, when Madame Pommery dies, she makes her assistant the head of Pommery, not her son.  Those facts add up to a gold nugget for the story.
  • Friend or Foe? Who can you trust? Who has an ulterior motive? In research, I look for clues about who were Madame Pommery’s business associates, friends, and foes. Then, I look for ways that their relationships can change during the book. For example, Madame Pommery’s banker helps her when her husband dies, but his ulterior motive is that he wants to be her partner.
  • Habits and Hobbies. I love to research quirky habits and hobbies characters can have. In Champagne Widows, Barbe-Nicole Clicquot’s father has a secret room that he works on constantly, because he doesn’t have the money to hire it done.  Barbe-Nicole’s mother loves outrageous fashion and falls deathly ill from the arsenic dye. Both of these are facts that I researched about those real people!
  • Trials & Tribulations. What are the events of history that affect the characters? For example, in GOLD DIGGER, the Remarkable Baby Doe Tabor is about the Gold and Silver Rush in the nineteenth century, women’s right to vote, and the politics of the day, the Chinese workers imported to build the railroads and mines, then they were hated and killed. All these aspects add texture and context to the story. To research this information, I use libraries, buy books, internet searches, interview historians. 
  • Location, Location, Location! I visit the towns or area I’m writing about and visit every home, winery, mine and theater in search of clues about the person I am writing about so I can breathe life into them on the page.
  • Skeletons: Everyone has skeletons in their closets, and if you can’t find them for your character, you didn’t look hard enough. The Skeleton can be a human condition like: mental illness, poverty, alcoholism. Or it can be a horrible wound the character suffered, like rape, or losing a child or an affair gone terribly wrong. Character skeletons need to be found and written on the page to make characters feel, hurt, and heal, or not.
  1. She said What? Since I write about real people, I search for real quotes, letters and stories about them to use in building her character. Madame Pommery’s quote informed the entire book, setting the stage from where she came, what she wanted and why, and what her success would look like.

“Inevitably, I find myself in a predicament where the rules do not apply, or worse, they contradict each other.”  ~Jeanne Alexandrine Pommery

~Rebecca Rosenberg, #1 Amazon Best Seller, Madame Pommery, Creator of Brut Champagne

Here’s the blurbs

EDITORS CHOICE HISTORICAL NOVEL SOCIETY

“A-Tour-de-Force” Publisher’s Weekly BookLife Prize

MADAME POMMERY, Creator of Brut Champagne

“A tour-de-force of historical fiction, Madame Pommery is a deeply fascinating work that blends true-to-life details with artfully crafted elements.” –Publishers Weekly BookLife Prize

Madame Pommery is a story of a woman’s indomitable spirit in the face of insurmountable odds. Set in Champagne, France in 1860, Madame Pommery is a forty-year-old widow and etiquette teacher whose husband has passed away. Now she must find a way to support her family. With no experience, she decides to make champagne, but no champagne makers will teach her their craft. Undeterred, Madame Pommery begins to secretly excavate champagne caves under the Reims city dump and faces numerous obstacles to achieve her dream. From the Franco-Prussian war that conscripts her son and crew to the Prussian General Frederick Franz occupying her home, Madame Pommery perseveres. She even must choose between her champagne dreams and a marriage proposal from her former lover, a Scottish Baron. Inspired by a true story, Madame Pommery is a heroic tale of a woman’s strength and determination to create a champagne legacy. If you enjoyed the novel Sarah’s Key, you will enjoy Madame Pommery. 

~~

CHAMPAGNE WIDOWS, the First Woman of Champagne

EDITORS CHOICE HISTORICAL NOVEL SOCIETY This engrossing historical novel by Rebecca Rosenberg follows Veuve Clicquot, a strong-minded woman determined to defy the Napoleon Code and become a master champagne maker. In 1800 France, twenty-year-old Barbe-Nicole inherits her great-grandfather’s uncanny sense of smell and uses it to make great champagne, despite the Code prohibiting women from owning a business. When tragedy strikes and she becomes a Veuve (widow), she must grapple with a domineering partner, the complexities of making champagne, and the aftermath of six Napoleon wars. When she falls in love with her sales manager, Louis Bohne, she must choose between losing her winery to her husband to obey the Napoleon Code, or losing Louis. In the ultimate showdown, Veuve Clicquot defies Napoleon himself, risking prison and even death. If you enjoyed books like ‘The Widow of the South’ by Robert Hicks or ‘The Paris Seamstress’ by Natasha Lester, you’ll love ‘Veuve Clicquot’.

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Meet the author

Rebecca Rosenberg is an award-winning novelist, champagne geek, and lavender farmer. Rebecca first fell in love with methode champenoise in Sonoma Valley, California. Over decades of delicious research, she has explored the wine cellars of France, Spain, Italy, and California in search of fine champagne. When Rebecca discovered the real-life stories of the Champagne Widows of France, she knew she’d dedicate years to telling the stories of these remarkable women who made champagne the worldwide phenomenon it is today. 

Rebecca is a champagne historian, tour guide, and champagne cocktail expert for Breathless Wines. Other award-winning novels include The Secret Life of Mrs. London and Gold Digger, the Remarkable Baby Doe Tabor.

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I’m delighted to welcome Joan Fallon and her new book, The Winds of Change, to the blog historicalfiction #adventure #Andalusia #SpanishCivilWar #BlogTour #TheCoffeePotBookClub

Here’s the blurb

The Winds of Change is a story of love, loyalty and betrayal on the eve of the Spanish Civil War, when the country is political turmoil with strikes and demonstrations, unemployment is high and the people are starving. 

In this complicated love triangle we meet Ramon, a member of the Republican Left, who has accidentally killed a policeman and is on the run from the Guardia Civil and Hugo, the son of the wealthy owner of a local sherry bodega. Both men are in love with Clementina, the beautiful daughter of a well-known gypsy horse trader but there are obstacles in both their paths.

Hugo finds that when he tries to see Clementina again, both his parents and hers do everything they can to stop him.

Meanwhile Ramon’s brother, Pedro, is arrested and imprisoned because he will not reveal his brother’s whereabouts to the Guardia Civil. Now Ramon has to choose between his brother and the woman he loves.

This fast moving historical novel is a story of love, politics, class prejudice, intrigue and betrayal in the year leading up to the Spanish Civil War.

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Meet the author

Teacher, management trainer and business woman, the Scottish-born novelist, Joan Fallon moved from the UK to Spain in 1998 and dedicated herself to full-time writing. She is now the self-published author of eighteen books, many of which are historical novels set in southern Spain, and focus on two distinct periods in the country’s history, the Spanish Civil War and Moorish Spain. 

More recently she had turned her attention to writing contemporary crime fiction, with a series of novels entitled The Jacaranda Dunne Mysteries but her love of historical fiction has lured her back to writing about Spain in the 20th century in her latest novel The Winds of Change.

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