Author of Saxon historical fiction, 20th-century historical mysteries, and Saxon historical non-fiction. Book reviewer and blog host.
I’m reading the beginning from A Conspiracy of Kings. Hopefully, you’ll enjoy listening below. Just click on the image. This does contain spoilers if you’ve not yet read book 1, The Lady of Mercia’s Daughter.
Find out who the historical Ælfwynn was here.
Buy A Conspiracy of Kings here.
(Also available with Kindle Unlimited.)
Æthelflæd,[i] said to be the oldest of the children of King Alfred, and his wife, Lady Eahlswith, was born around 866, the exact details are unknown, although the date of her death is well attested as 12 June 918.[ii]
She was married to Lord Æthelred of the Mercians at some point during the 880s, although an exact date cannot be given. The first mention of this union occurs in a charter dated to 887,[iii] although the date may not be reliable. There is also little information about who Lord Æthelred might have been, and his subsequent military successes should not be dismissed, as they often are. Lord Æthelred is assumed to have been a nobleman from Mercia, and one with enough of a reputation to secure the marriage alliance with the Wessex royal family (and it must be assumed, unrelated to her mother’s birth family, and also her father’s family through his sister’s union to Burgred).
Their marriage was a success, and yet there was only one child, a daughter, Ælfwynn, born to the union, perhaps quite soon after the marriage occurred.
During her lifetime, Æthelflæd’s name appears on fifteen surviving charters. These are a real collection, some promulgated by her father, her brother, her husband and then, in her name alone. The earliest to feature her name is S223 dated to 884×9, so between 884 and 889, which survives in two manuscripts, and discussed the building of the burh at Worcester. In her final charters, she’s the sole promulgator, her husband no doubt having already died. It is believed he died in 911. S224 and S225 date to 914 and 915. S225 names Æthelflæd as the ruler of Mercia, something which The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle mirrors in some versions.
In 912, the C text records, ‘Here, on the eve of the Invention of the Holy Cross, Æthelflæd, Lady of the Mercians came to Scergeat and built a stronghold there, and the same year, that at Bridgnorth.’[xxvii]
In 913, the C text further records, ‘Here, God helping, Æthelflæd, Lady of the Mercians, went with all the Mercians to Tamworth, and then built the stronghold there early in the summer, and afterwards before Lammas that at Stafford.’[xxviii]
In 917, the C text writes, ‘Here, before Lammas, God helping, Æthelflæd, Lady of the Mercians took possession of the stronghold which is called Derby, together with all that belonged to it.’[xxxi]
Æthelflæd’s death is recorded in the A and C editions of the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle and also in the E version of the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, even if only in passing. ‘Here Æthelflæd, Lady of the Mercians, passed away.’[xxxii]
A text states: ‘and then when he (Edward) was settled in the seat there, his sister Æthelflæd at Tamworth, died 12 days before midsummer … and all the nation of the land of Mercia which was earlier subject to Æthelflæd turned to him.’
The C text of 918 offers:
Here in the early part of this year, with God’s help, she [Æthelflæd] peaceably got in her control the stronghold at Leicester and the most part of the raiding-armies that belonged to it were subjected. And also the York-folk had promised her – and some of them granted so by pledge, some confirmed with oaths – that they would be at her disposition. But very quickly after they had done that, she departed, twelve days before midsummer, inside Tamworth, the eighth year that she held control of Mercia, with rightful lordship; and her body lies inside Gloucester in the east side-chapel of St Peter’s Church.[xxxiii]
It seems highly probable that Æthelflæd’s death, when it came, was unexpected, occurring in the middle of an advance into the Danelaw and the Five Boroughs (Derby, Nottingham, Lincoln, Stamford, Leicester). It was left to her daughter, and also her brother, to continue her work, and you can read their story in The Lady of Mercia’s Daughter and A Conspiracy of Kings.
Or you can read about the historical women in my non-fiction title, The Royal Women Who Made England.
[i] PASE Æthelflæd (4)
[ii] Swanton, M. ed. and trans. The Anglo-Saxon Chronicles, (Orion Publishing Group, 2000), AD 918
[iii] S217, surviving in two manuscripts
[xviii] Baker, N. and Holt, R. ‘The city of Worcester in the tenth century’, in St Oswald of Worcester: Life and InfluenceBrooks, N. and Cubitt, C. ed, (Leicester University Press, 1996), pp.134–5
[xix] Sawyer, P.H. (ed.), Anglo-Saxon charters: An annotated list and bibliography, rev. Kelly, S.E., Rushforth, R., (2022). http://www.esawyer.org.uk/, S1446
[xxi] Sawyer, P.H. (ed.), Anglo-Saxon charters: An annotated list and bibliography, rev. Kelly, S.E., Rushforth, R., (2022). http://www.esawyer.org.uk/, S1282
[xxii] Hart, C.R. The Early Charters of Northern England and the North Midlands (Leicester University Press, 1975), p.102 (100)
[xxvi] Swanton, M. ed. and trans. The Anglo-Saxon Chronicles, (Orion Publishing Group, 2000) Ibid., p.94
[xxvii] Ibid., p.96
[xxviii] Ibid., p.96
[xxix] Ibid., p.97
[xxx] Ibid., p.100
[xxxi] Ibid., p.101
[xxxii] Ibid., p.103
[xxxiii] Ibid., p.105
[xxxv] See Stafford, P. After Alfred. Anglo-Saxon Chronicles and Chroniclers 900–1150, (Oxford University Press, 2020), for a full discussion of the Æthelflæd and Edward Chronicles.
Mercia lies broken but not beaten, her alliance with Wessex in tatters. Coelwulf, a fierce and bloody warrior, hears whispers that Mercia has been betrayed from his home in the west. He fears no man, especially not the Vikings sent to hunt him down.
To discover the truth of the rumours he hears, Coelwulf must travel to the heart of Mercia, and what he finds there will determine the fate of Mercia, as well as his own.
AD874
I taste it on my lips, and over the salt of my sweat.
And I scowl. It’s not a flavour I wish to get used to. All the same, I know what it is without a second thought.
My seax glistens slickly in the dull light, the gleaming claret reminding me more of an exotic wine from the south than the lifeblood it truly is. The double headed-eagle impeccably depicted on the handle seems to wink at me, as the eyes fill with the ruby mixture.
Not that I focus on it for more than the time it takes me to blink.
This horde feels as though it’ll never stop, and I’m determined to end the lives of as many of them as possible. Such slaughter doesn’t bring me joy, but this is my skill. I wield it because I must.
My weapon, so sharp it cuts through byrnies as though they’re no more than spider webs, is busy today.
They come against my force, as small as it is, and they mean to annihilate us. But we will not go without making our sacrifices to their god of war.
My seax sweeps effortlessly along the abruptly exposed throat of my enemy, the realisation of what’s befallen him only reaching his eyes as he falls to the ground. I step over him, already sighting my next enemy.
This one swirls an axe in his left hand, as I reveal my bloodied teeth. His entire body recoils, almost a backward step. Before he can consider his move, I’ve sliced through his belly, the gut threatening to spill at my feet. I dismiss him and move onto the next man.
The ground beneath my feet squelches with each step, slick, more like a flooded river than the solid ground it should be.
It’s awash with the dead and wounded, the long shield wall that tried to defeat us long since disintegrated to small spots of desperate one to one fighting. This is my favourite part of any battle.
I turn, noting the angle of the sun, the brush of the breeze against my slick body, breathing deeply through my nose. This is not my first battle. Far from it.
I hear the cries of those boys who thought themselves men, and equally of those men who’ve found they are but boys when their lives are threatened.
I scorn them. They’re not worthy of my attention.
Quickly, I reach for my weapons belt, keen to know that all is where it should be. My hand brushes over the sharpened edges and deadly blades that make a home there. For now.
Satisfied, I pick my next target, a tight knot of men fighting not five steps away, and move forward.
I don’t hurry. Not this time. Neither, as I’ve seen others do, do I check the weight of my weapon, or test the strength of my arm as I consider my next move. Instinctively I know that all is well.
They’ll not fail me. They haven’t before.
If you’ve not yet discovered The Mercian Kingdom: The Ninth Century series, then you’ve in for a treat, as long as you’re not easily offended by foul language and violence – and if you are, there are Cleaner versions available on Amazon Kindle.
If you’ve been reading the Icel books, then you will find a friend in this series, set in the 870s in a Mercia under assault by the Viking raiders.
And don’t forget to check out the short story collection, Coelwulf’s Company, tales from before The Last King.
The Last King books are available in ebook, paperback and hardback, and The Last King (book 1 ) is also available in audio.
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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.
Buy Links
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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.
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!
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.
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.
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.
“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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These titles are available to read on #KindleUnlimited.
Champagne Widows Series Links:
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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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On the 27th October 939, the death of Athelstan, the first king of the English, at Gloucester. The symmetry of the death of King Athelstan and King Alfred, his grandfather, is noted in the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle A text, ‘40 years all but a day after King Alfred passed away’.[i]
[i] Swanton, M. ed. and trans. The Anglo-Saxon Chronicles, (Orion Publishing Group, 2000), p.110
We don’t know for sure who Athelstan’s mother was, it’s believed she might have been called Ecgwynn. We don’t know, for certain, the name of his full sister, but it’s believed she might have been named Edith or Ecgwynn after her mother. What is known is that his father was Edward, the son of King Alfred, and known to us today as Edward the Elder. Athelstan is rare in that he is one of only two Saxon kings for whom a contemporary image is available. (The other is Edgar, who would have been his nephew)
It must be supposed that Athelstan was born sometime in the late 890s. And according to a later source written by William of Malmesbury in the 1100s (so over two hundred years later), was raised at the court of his aunt, Æthelflæd of Mercia. David Dumville has questioned the truth of this, but to many, this has simply become accepted as fact.
‘he [Alfred] arranged for the boy’s education at the court of his daughter, Æthelflæd and Æthelred his son in law, where he was brought up with great care by his aunt and the eminent ealdorman for the throne that seemed to await him.’[i]
[i] Mynors, R.A.B. ed and trans, completed by Thomson, R.M. and Winterbottom, M. Gesta Regvm Anglorvm, The History of the English Kings, William of Malmesbury, (Clarendon Press, 1998), p.211 Book II.133
Why then might this have happened? Edward became king on the death of his father, Alfred, and either remarried at that time, or just before. Edward’s second wife (if indeed, he was actually married to Athelstan’s mother, which again, some doubt), Lady Ælfflæd is believed to have been the daughter of an ealdorman and produced a hefty number of children for Edward. Perhaps then, Athelstan and his unnamed sister, were an unwelcome reminder of the king’s first wife, or perhaps, as has been suggested, Alfred intended for Athelstan to succeed in Mercia after the death of Æthelflæd, and her husband, Æthelred, for that union produced one child, a daughter named Ælfwynn.
What is known is that following the death of King Edward in 924, Athelstan was acknowledged as the king of Mercia; his half-brother, Ælfweard was proclaimed king in Wessex for a very short period.
‘Here King Edward died at Farndon in Mercia; and very soon, 16 days after, his son Ælfweard died at Oxford; and their bodies lie at Winchester. And Athelstan was chosen as king by the Mercians and consecrated at Kingston.’[i]
[i] Swanton, M. trans and edit The Anglo-Saxon Chronicles, (Orion Publishing Group, 2000), D text p.105
But Ælfweard’s reign was short-lived and Athelstan was eventually proclaimed king of Wessex, as well as Mercia, and then, in time, as the king of the English, although his acceptance by the Wessex witan has been seen as very grudgingly given.
Whatever the exact details of the beginning of his kingship, Athelstan was consecrated in September 925, and the words of the ceremony are believed to survive (there is an argument as to whether the ceremony was written for his father or for him), and during the ceremony Athelstan was proclaimed as king not with the placement of a warrior helm on his head, but instead, with a crown, the first known occurrence of this in England.
‘This means that only a year after my father’s untimely death, the kingdoms of Mercia, those parts of the East Anglian kingdom that my father lately reclaimed, Wessex and Kent, are reunited again under one ruler. The Saxons, or rather, the English, have just one king. And this is my moment of divine glory, when, before the men and women of the Mercian and Wessex witan, I’ll be proclaimed as king over all.
A prayer is intoned by the archbishop of Canterbury, Athelm, appealing to God to endow me with the qualities of the Old Testament kings: Abraham, Moses, Joshua, David and Solomon. As such, I must be faithful, meek, and full of fortitude and humility while also possessing wisdom. I hope I’ll live up to these lofty expectations.
I’m anointed with the holy oil and then given a thick gold ring with a flashing ruby to prove that I accept my role as protector of the one true faith. A finely balanced sword is placed in my hands, the work of a master blacksmith, with which I’m to defend widows and orphans and through which I can restore things left desolated by my foes, and my foes are the Norse.
Further, I’m given a golden sceptre, fashioned from gold as mellow as the sunset, with which to protect the Holy Church, and a silver rod to help me understand how to soothe the righteous and terrify the reprobate, help any who stray from the Church’s teachings and welcome back any who have fallen outside the laws of the Church.
With each item added to my person, I feel the weight of kingship settle on me more fully. I may have been the king of Mercia for over a year now, the king of Wessex and Kent for slightly less time, but this is the confirmation of all I’ve done before and all I’ll be in the future.
It’s a responsibility I’m gratified to take, but a responsibility all the same. From this day forward, every decision I make, no matter how trivial, will impact someone I now rule over.
*******
And I? I’m the king, as my archbishop, Athelm of Canterbury, proclaims to rousing cheers from all within the heavily decorated church at Kingston upon Thames, a place just inside the boundaries of Wessex but not far from Mercia. It’s festooned with bright flowers and all the wealth this church owns. Gold and silver glitter from every recess, reflecting the glow of the hundreds of candles.
I’m more than my father, Edward, was and I’m more than my grandfather, Alfred, was. I’m the king of a people, not a petty kingdom, or two petty kingdoms, with Kent and the kingdom of the East Angles attached.
It’s done. I’m the anointed king of the English, the first to own such a title. I’ll protect my united kingdom, and with God’s wishes, I’ll extend its boundaries yet further, clawing back the land from the Five Boroughs and bringing the kingdom of the Northumbrians, and even the independent realm of Bamburgh, under my command.’
And Athelstan’s life is one of vast events. His reach extended far beyond the confines of England, or even the British Isles, his step-sisters making political unions in East and West Frankia, and his nephew becoming king of the West Franks. But he is perhaps best known for his victory at Brunanburh, over a coalition of the Scots and the Dublin Norse, and it is the tale of this great battle, and the events both before and afterwards, that I retell in the Brunanburh Series.
His death, on 27th October 939, can arguably be stated to have reset the gains made after Brunanburh, and set the creation of ‘England’ back, as his much younger step-brother battled to hold onto his brother’s gains, but for now, it is Athelstan and his triumphs which much be remembered, and not what happened after his untimely death.
Check out my Brunanburh series page for more information about Athelstan, and his fellow kings.
Here’s the blurb
Prince. Mercenary. Exile. The lost throne of Norway must be won in foreign lands.
1030 AD
Some men are gifted a crown. Others have to fight to claim it.
Exiled from Norway, Harald Sigurdsson, brother to murdered King Olaf, must battle mercilessly for survival in the lands of the Kievan Rus.
His brother’s legacy gifts him a warband of hardened warriors and entry to the court of Prince Yaroslav the Wise. By his wits, sword and skill in battle, Harald must learn not just to survive but to triumph.
He fights for glory, for fame, and to regain his family’s battle-stolen throne. But his greatest challenge may not come from battlefield foes but from those who stand by his side.
The first instalment in a remarkable story of an exiled boy’s incredible journey to become Harald Hardrada; The Hard Ruler and The Last Viking.
Purchase Link
https://mybook.to/warriorprincesocial
My Review
Harald Sigurdsson, who we know more often as Harald Hardrada, is a historical individual who is ‘on my radar’ as it were for my The Earls of Mercia series. So far, he’s only had the odd mention because I’m still 20 years from the events of 1066 at Stamford Bridge, but never fear, for JC Duncan is telling Harald’s story from the events that see his half-brother, Olaf, later St Olaf, cut down at the Battle of Stiklestad in 1030.
Adopting a narrator style for the book, we see Harald trying to regroup after his brother’s defeat and murder. He seeks somewhere for him and what remains of his brother’s warriors to retreat to, and the tale is told through the eyes of the fictional Eric, who has seen it all and now, as an old man, wants to share his stories of Harald with an appreciative audience back in Norway.
This is very much a story of Harald’s time in the lands of the Rus and the overwhelming odds he often faces in battle as he rises through the ranks to serve Prince Yaraslov. We also see him struggling with the clash of cultures – the more sophisticated and complex ideals of the Rus flummoxing a man more used to seeing warriors have a bloody good fight.
Harald quickly earns himself an enemy, one who bedevils him at various points throughout the story and who I’m sure will continue to do so as the young man tries to discover who he is while learning to command his warriors.
This is an epic tale, with elements burbling away in the background that will continue to develop in later books. Using a narrator enables the tale to skip over some of the more mundane aspects of Harald’s story, ensuring the reader is constantly faced with some new dilemma for Harald to surmount or fail. However, failure is never really an option. After all, he is a Hard-ruler, and many of his decisions may stun the reader as the body count increases.
JC Duncan’s Harald is indeed a hard man, unhappy making mistakes or being embarrassed, determined to build his reputation, even while bidding his time, determined that one day he’ll claim back his brother’s lost kingdom of Norway. He is perhaps too naïve and a little too sure of himself on occasion, and these very real character traits lend themselves to an engaging retelling. However, this isn’t a quick read. There’s much to absorb as you, alongside the character, embark on a very real journey to the land of the Rus and encounter their enemies and allies, the knowledge that our narrator still lives, the only hope for Harald’s success.
An engrossing tale of Harald Hardrada’s early years, brimming with historical detail and brave daring do. This is the story of a man who will become a legend, told lovingly through the eyes of one of his loyal followers and sure to delight readers.
Meet the author
J. C. Duncan is a well-reviewed historical fiction author and amateur bladesmith, with a passion for Vikings.
Connect with JC Duncan
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Bookbub profile: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/j-c-duncan
Here’s the blurb
Young governess Flora Maguire is on her way home from America on the maiden voyage of the S.S. Minneapolis with her young charge Eddy, Viscount Trent, when she discovers a dead body.
Unconvinced when the death is pronounced an accident, Flora starts asking questions, but following threats, a near drowning and a second murder, the hunt is on for a killer. Time is running out as the Minneapolis approaches the English coast.
Will Flora be able to protect Eddy, as well as herself?
Is her burgeoning relationship with the handsome Bunny Harrington only a shipboard dalliance, or something more? And what secrets must Flora keep in order to stay safe?
Purchase Link
My Review
Death on Board is a historical mystery set onboard a transatlantic crossing in the year 1900.
Our main character, Flora, is a governess escorting her young charge home to begin school. Unsure of herself, as her employer has purchased her a First Class ticket, Flora avoids meeting many of them until the unexpected death of a member of her table, whose body she’s unfortunate to discover early one morning.
What ensues is a twisted tale of secrets and half-truths as Flora finds herself drawn into the reason behind the man’s death, proclaimed as an accident, but which Flora sees in a very different light. She mingles with all those on board, from the snooty upper-class dam and her companion to the actress seeking a new life in England, as well as the handsome Bunny, and his motorcar, Matilda, as she attempts to get to the bottom of the mystery surrounding the murder.
Death on Board is stuffed with period details, and the mystery itself is well-constructed, with a very satisfying resolution. Fiona is a fantastic creation, as is Bunny, and while I’m not unconvinced they wouldn’t have sunk the ship with the quantity of tea consumed, I thoroughly enjoyed it, and look forward to reading more of the series.
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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I’m delighted to welcome Carolyn Hughes and her new novel, The Merchant’s Dilemma to the blog, with an excerpt from the book.
From Chapter 1
The door to the chamber opened and then closed softly.
‘Mistress Collyton?’ said a man’s voice, very low but loud enough for Bea to know exactly whose it was. ‘Is she still asleep?’
Bea heard the old woman huff, perhaps as she started awake, then the scrape of the chair.
‘No, no,’ said Riccardo, gently, ‘there is no need to stand.’
‘Thank you, sir,’ said Mistress Collyton. ‘She comes and goes, I think, but never awake long enough for me to speak to her.’
‘It has been so many days. I wonder if she will ever fully wake? How much I wish to look into my sweet Bea’s eyes and hear her laugh.’
Bea’s heart fluttered. “Sweet Bea”? Was that truly what he said? If so, where was his wife? Surely, he’d not refer to heras his sweet if he had a wife? Well, not in his servant’s hearing…
‘It may be yet a while afore she laughs, sir,’ said Mistress Collyton, ‘even when she do come back to us.’
‘Just seeing her eyes open would do for now, when I thought I would never see my lovely girl again.’
‘Indeed, sir.’ Bea heard the old woman grunt a little and the creaking of the chair. ‘Will you stay wi’ her a moment whilst I fetch her gruel?’
‘Glad to,’ he said. The door opened and shut again, then he came over to the bed. He sat down upon it and leaned forward to touch the edge of the bedding covering most of Bea’s face.
Her heart thudded. She had only a moment to decide: was she still asleep, or should she greet the man she loved? And who still, it seemed, loved her.
As the coverlet and sheet were drawn gently back, she let her eyes flick open.
Riccardo gasped, and jerked upright. ‘You are awake.’
She smiled.
‘How do you feel?’
‘Comfortable,’ she murmured.
‘And rested? Stronger?’ His eyes were bright but also brimming with anxiety.
Her shoulders twitched in a little shrug. ‘I still hurt all over, and my head is giddy. I doubt I’d be able to walk far, but maybe I could get up before too long?’
Riccardo’s eyes crinkled. ‘Oh, Bea, I am so pleased to hear it. Of course, I am sorry you are still in pain but, with continued rest and care from Mistress Collyton, God will soon surely grant you a full recovery.’
‘Thank you for taking me in,’ she whispered.
He leaned forward again and stroked her cheek lightly with his fingers. ‘Surely you knew I would. That was why you came.’
‘I hoped you might, or that, if I died, you’d take care of my poor corpse.’
‘Thank God that was not asked of me.’ He held his hand lightly against her cheek. ‘Many weeks and months may still lie ahead of us before you are fully well, but we shall succeed.’
Tears were hovering in his eyes. ‘You must know, darling girl, how very relieved I am you have come back to me.’
She could scarce believe what he was saying. Of course, she’d hoped he’d not abandon her in her frailty. That he’d take her in; maybe even help her to recover. But what he was saying now was much more than that. It sounded as if he was expecting her to stay here, in this house – for months, maybe. And he was saying that he loved her.
‘I can see it in your eyes. How glad I am that dreadful storm drove me to your door.’ She bit her lip. ‘But I have to ask, Riccardo, where is your wife?’
A shadow passed across his face. ‘Ah, of course, you do not know. How could you? Poor Katherine died, as did our little Oliver.’
‘Oh, Riccardo, I’m so sorry––’
He held up his hand. ‘The loss of my little boy was awful.’ He looked up, his eyes moist. ‘He was perfect, you know. But Katherine struggled in the birthing of him, and the midwife said it had simply taken much too long. How I railed at the cruelty of his death…’
‘And your wife?’
He shrugged. ‘Of course, I would never have wished her dead but, in truth, Katherine was not much of a wife to me.’ He spoke it quietly. ‘I regret to say I do not miss her…’ He hung his head.
‘When was this?’ she whispered.
‘September. Not so long ago.’
‘When I came here,’ she said, ‘and found you gone, I remember thinking maybe you’d taken your wife and child out for a visit and had been caught out by the weather, unable to return. I thought I’d likely die here on your doorstep before you reached home again.’
‘In truth, Bea, I was pacing the streets of Winchester, searching for you.’ He gave her a wry grin. ‘You see, I thought I had seen you some weeks before, although the girl I saw then had looked frail and wretched. Then, that night, I was out of my wits with worry that it was you I saw, and you might be out in all that terrible wind and rain, unable to find shelter… Well, I just had to go out and look for you. I searched for hours, and was distraught when I was forced to return home without you. But then there you were, lying on my doorstep…’ He swallowed. ‘At first, I thought that I had come too late. That you were already dead. When I found you were still living, oh, Bea, you cannot imagine how thankful and relieved I was.’
His face lit up again, and her heart turned over. She surely didn’t deserve his love, yet how grateful she was to have it.
Here’s the blurb
1362. Winchester. Seven months ago, accused of bringing plague and death from Winchester, Bea Ward was hounded out of Meonbridge by her former friends and neighbours. Finding food and shelter where she could, she struggled to make her way back to Winchester again.
Yet, once she arrived, she wondered why she’d come.
For her former lover – the love of her life – Riccardo Marchaunt, had married a year ago. And she no longer had the strength to go back to her old life on the streets. Frail, destitute and homeless, she was reduced to begging. Then, in January, during a tumultuous and destructive storm, she found herself on Riccardo’s doorstep. She had no plan, beyond hoping he might help her, or at least provide a final resting place for her poor body.
When Bea awakes to find she’s lying in Riccardo’s bed once more, she’s thankful, thrilled, but mystified. But she soon learns that his wife died four months ago, along with their newborn son, and finds too that Riccardo loves her now as much as he ever did, and wants to make her his wife. But can he? And, even if he can, could she ever really be a proper merchant’s wife?
Riccardo could not have been more relieved to find Bea still alive, when he thought he had lost her forever. She had been close to death, but is now recovering her health. He adores her and wants her to be his wife. But how? His father would forbid such an “unfitting” match, on pain of denying him his inheritance. And what would his fellow merchants think of it? And their haughty wives?
Yet, Riccardo is determined that Bea will be his wife. He has to find a solution to his dilemma… With the help of his beloved mother, Emilia, and her close friend, Cecily, he hatches a plan to make it happen.
But even the best laid plans sometimes go awry. And the path of love never did run smooth…
The Merchant’s Dilemma is a companion novel to the main series of Meonbridge Chronicles, and continues the story of Bea and Riccardo after the end of the fourth Chronicle, Children’s Fate. It is a little more romantic and light-hearted than the other Chronicles but, if you’ve enjoyed reading about the lives of the characters of Meonbridge, you will almost certainly enjoy reading The Merchant’s Dilemma too!
Buy Links
This title is available to read on #KindleUnlimited.
Universal Link: https://books2read.com/u/3RY7Yj
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Meet the author
Carolyn Hughes has lived much of her life in Hampshire. With a first degree in Classics and English, she started working life as a computer programmer, then a very new profession. But it was technical authoring that later proved her vocation, word-smithing for many different clients, including banks, an international hotel group and medical instruments manufacturers.
Although she wrote creatively on and off for most of her adult life, it was not until her children flew the nest that writing historical fiction took centre stage. But why historical fiction? Serendipity!
Seeking inspiration for what to write for her Creative Writing Masters, she discovered the handwritten draft, begun in her twenties, of a novel, set in 14th century rural England… Intrigued by the period and setting, she realised that, by writing a novel set in the period, she’d be able to both learn more about the medieval past and interpret it, which seemed like a thrilling thing to do. A few days later, the first Meonbridge Chronicle, Fortune’s Wheel, was under way.
Six published books later (with more to come), Carolyn does now think of herself as an Historical Novelist. And she wouldn’t have it any other way…
Carolyn has a Master’s in Creative Writing from Portsmouth University and a PhD from the University of Southampton.
You can connect with Carolyn through her website www.carolynhughesauthor.com and social media.
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MJ Porter 