A chance meeting…or so she thought. Is confidence trickster Will Samson the hero he claims to be or someone else entirely…
Emily Darson assumed her future of propriety and privilege amid a loveless marriage was set in stone. At least, she did until confidence trickster Will Samson came into her life…
Then everything changed.
With each revelation about her fiancé and herself that Will uncovers, he also reveals a little more of who is he, what he has suffered, and the volatile vengeance that burns in his heart.
Can Emily really risk security for scandal? Loyalty for love? Only time will tell…
Her Scandalous Suitor is a steamy historical fiction romance set in the 1800s.
Our two main characters, Emily and Will are both stuck in unenviable situation, Will seeking revenge against Nicholas, Emily quailing at the prospect of an unhappy forthcoming marriage to Nicholas, the son of her dying father’s dead business associate.
All is not well with Nicholas, and while Emily worries about her future, Will determines to exact his revenge against Nicholas, inevitably pulling Emily into his plot, and along the way, finding himself falling in love with her.
While Emily feels the same pull, she tries to do all she can to avoid him, but is to be prevented from doing so due to a series of events. And because Nicholas is not at all the man he pretends to be, as she begins to discover.
Taking readers to the underworld of Bath, Her Scandalous Suitor, addresses some of the pertinent issues of the day with regard to women and the hardships they face from the over mighty men who seemed to be able to get away with anything.
An engaging tale, with all the right touches for a steamy romance, including the promise of a happily ever after.
Rachel lives in a small town near Bath, England. She is the author of 29 novels including the Ladies of Carson Street trilogy, the Shop Girl series (Aria Fiction) and several single titles with The Wild Rose Press. She is super excited to be the first historical fiction author writing for Harpeth Road Press and her first novel with them will be released May 2024.
Rachel is a member of the Romantic Novelists Association and the Female Entrepreneur Association and has thousands of social media followers all over the world.
To sign up for her newsletter (a guaranteed giveaway every month!), click here:https://bit.ly/3zyH7dt
I’m delighted to welcome Jerry Madden, and his new book, Steel Valley: Coming Of Age in the Ohio Valley in the 1960s, to the blog.
Here’s the blurb
For readers of The World Played Chess by Robert Dugoni and Last Summer Boys by Bill Rivers
Love is never easy…even in easier times, like the 1950s and 1960s in the Ohio Valley with the steel industry booming.
Second-generation immigrant families were reaching for the American middle class. And Catholic schools-made feasible by selfless Catholic nuns-promised bigger lives for everyone, including Jack Clark and Laurie Carmine. As they spent years searching for their separate futures, though, they were also stumbling toward love just as their world came crashing down.
Steel Valley depicts a story of love longed for, lost, and perhaps still within reach, just as our nation’s mythic yesterday became our troubled today, our last summer of innocence.
Jerry Madden grew up in the Upper Ohio Valley in the 1960s. He holds a B.A. from the College of Steubenville and law degrees from the University of Dayton School of Law and the Georgetown University Law Center. After law school, Jerry served as the sole law clerk to the Chief Justice of the Supreme Court of Ohio, C. William O’Neill. He served in the United States Marine Corps (R) between 1970 and 1976.
Jerry has practiced law in Washington, D.C., since 1979, including fourteen years at the Department of Justice as a trial and appellate attorney. He is the principal of The Madden Law Group PLLC in Washington, D.C.
He lives in Northern Virginia with his wife, Cyndi, a retired educator. They have two children, Kelsey and Jack, both of whom hold M.Ed. degrees. They have one grandchild, Jamie Maclennan.
I’m delighted to welcome Deborah Swift and her new book, The Shadow Network, to the blog, with WW2 German and Irish Saboteurs.
The Shadow Network:WW2 German and Irish Saboteurs
The radio signal for the ‘fake news’ radio stations that feature in The Shadow Network needed to be strong enough to appear as though it came from Germany, and had to be more powerful than anything that was then available.
By coincidence, the Radio Corporation of America (RCA) had created two high-powered radio transmitters which could not be used in the US, because of a change in American law. The RCA were eager to sell them to Britain. So Harold Robin, a Foreign Office radio engineer, saw their potential, and travelled to America to examine them, and then worked to improve them. He adapted a transmitter so it was able to move frequency in a fraction of a second, at the flick of a switch.
The powerful ex-RCA transmitter, eventually installed in Sussex, England, was named Aspidistra, referencing the popular Gracie Fields song ‘The Biggest Aspidistra in the World’, in which an Aspidistra houseplant grows until it ‘nearly reached the sky’.
In fact, most of the technology was buried underground at the site at Crowborough in Sussex, though its antennae were visible – three guyed masts, each 110 metres tall, directing the signal broadly to the east. The Art Deco–style transmitter building was housed in an underground shelter which had to be excavated by the Canadian army troops who were stationed nearby.
As far as I know there was never any attempt to sabotage or bomb the Aspidistratransmitter, though I enjoyed making it a possible target for a German agent and saboteur. However, German agents were sent into Britain to sabotage British targets – mainly military, industrial, and transport facilities. Their aim was to create maximum disruption, and to lower the morale of British civilians.
Inefficient Saboteurs
In reality, the German spies were less efficient than my fictional Brendan – the German spies had poor English-language skills and little knowledge of British customs. One German spy was arrested after trying to order a pint of cider at ten in the morning, as he didn’t know that landlords weren’t allowed to serve alcohol before lunchtime. Two other agents were stopped because they were cycling on the wrong side of the road. The twelve spies we know of who landed in Britain as part of the so-called Operation Lena in September 1940 were nearly all captured.
The German war machine was generally very efficient, so it remains a mystery why these men were not better trained. For this reason, I chose to link my saboteur to the Irish Republican Army (IRA), and the Coventry IRA bomb. It is a little-known fact that the IRA and the Nazi regime were in collaboration during the war.
Irish Saboteurs
At lunchtime on 25 August 1939 an unknown bomb-maker cycled into the city of Coventry in England with a five-pound bomb in his bicycle basket. The device, wrapped in brown paper and with an alarm clock timer, was left outside Astley’s shop where it exploded fifty minutes later, killing five people and injuring seventy, and causing devastation to the surrounding buildings. For a while, the authorities and the public were wary of anyone Irish, but because of close ties to Ireland this vigilance soon waned.
The Coventry plot was linked to three other ‘bicycle bomb’ plots in London which were part of a concerted campaign by the IRA. The S-Plan (Sabotage Campaign or England Campaign) was a campaign conducted by members of the IRA to protest against control of Northern Ireland by the British.
Nazi links to the IRA
The Nazis made links with the IRA as far back as 1936, when IRA member Sean Russell sought German support for IRA activities and engaged in talks with the German Foreign Office, regarding IRA–German cooperation. When war was declared, the Germans saw the IRA as a useful ally should the Wehrmacht invade Britain. However the IRA saw Germany only as a stepping stone to a united Ireland, and these two motivations were not easily aligned. The IRA’s collaboration with the Nazis against Great Britain made the ideal background for me to construct the character of Brendan Murphy, the agent charged with sabotaging the Aspidistra radio mast.
One woman must sacrifice everything to uncover the truth in this enthralling historical novel, inspired by the true World War Two campaign Radio Aspidistra…
England, 1942: Having fled Germany after her father was captured by the Nazis, Lilli Bergen is desperate to do something pro-active for the Allies. So when she’s approached by the Political Warfare Executive, Lilli jumps at the chance. She’s recruited as a singer for a radio station broadcasting propaganda to German soldiers – a shadow network.
But Lilli’s world is flipped upside down when her ex-boyfriend, Bren Murphy, appears at her workplace; the very man she thinks betrayed her father to the Nazis. Lilli always thought Bren was a Nazi sympathiser – so what is he doing in England supposedly working against the Germans?
Lilli knows Bren is up to something, and must put aside a blossoming new relationship in order to discover the truth. Can Lilli expose him, before it’s too late? Set in the fascinating world of wartime radio, don’t miss The Shadow Network, a heart-stopping novel of betrayal, treachery, and courage against the odds.
Deborah Swift is the English author of eighteen historical novels, including Millennium Award winner Past Encounters, and The Lady’s Slipper, shortlisted for the Impress Prize.
Her most recent books are the Renaissance trilogy based around the life of the poisoner Giulia Tofana, The Poison Keeper and its sequels, one of which won the Coffee Pot Book Club Gold Medal. Recently she has completed a secret agent series set in WW2, the first in the series being The Silk Code. Deborah used to work as a set and costume designer for theatre and TV and enjoys the research aspect of creating historical fiction, something she loved doing as a scenographer. She likes to write about extraordinary characters set against the background of real historical events. Deborah lives in North Lancashire on the edge of the Lake District, an area made famous by the Romantic Poets such as Wordsworth and Coleridge.
As Valentine’s Day rolls around, Martha Miller finds herself unusually melancholy at the state of her own love life. With husband Stan still missing and with her growing feelings for Vicar Luke still shrouded in secrecy, there’s only one place Martha can go – famous local beauty spot, Lovers’ Leap.
Legend has it that those with a broken heart throw themselves off the bridge that spans the river, but Martha is certainly not about to do such a thing! But it looks like someone else has had other ideas…. Because there in the river, Martha finds a body. But is this misadventure, a moment of lovesick madness, or is foul play afoot? Martha knows one thing…the villagers of Westleham have another crime to solve! Let the investigation commence! Find out if Martha and Luke can catch the killer in a brand new Martha Miller mystery from bestselling author Catherine Coles.
My Review
Death at Lovers’ Leap is a welcome return to the village of Westleham and Martha Miller (and her trusty dog). An innocent walk quickly turns to tragedy for Martha, as she ends up, not only coated in mud from head to toe, but discovering the body of one of the local young men.
As ever, Martha is determined to discover the culprit, and with the aid of the vicar, Luke, and her two trusty nosy neighbours, she begins to do just that, uncovering a web of deceit which extends even to the grave.
Death at Lover’s Leap is another really well thought out cosy mystery, where a cup of tea is never far from the lips of our characters, and where the privations of post-war Britain are kept firmly in mind.
A delightful mystery. I’ve been reading Catherine Coles books for a good few years now. Martha is a great creation, and this is another really good addition to the series. Fans of cosy crime will really enjoy the mystery.
Catherine Coles writes bestselling cosy mysteries set in the English countryside. Her extremely popular Tommy & Evelyn Christie series is based in North Yorkshire in the 1920’s and Catherine herself lives in Hull with her family and two spoiled dogs.
Helen Bygrove, manageress of the Beach Hotel since her bullying husband was conscripted, is called to the foyer on the arrival of Detective Inspector Toshack. There’s recently been some libellous letters sent, and accusations have been flying around as to who’s been sending them.
In the foyer, Helen was alarmed to see that Sergeant Gardener was with him. Standing behind him were WPC Amanda Lovelock, who used to be her bookkeeper, and Constable Twort, who’d retired originally a few years before the war. A feeling of dread crept up her body and she had a bitter taste in her mouth. Surely they hadn’t concluded that someone from the hotel had written the letters. Could it be one of the new chambermaids, as Edie had suggested? Did Miss Harvey know something, and that’s why she’d turned up at the carol concert?
‘Inspector,’ she greeted him. ‘How may I help you today?’
The inspector opened his mouth to respond but was cut short by both front doors being pushed open. Lady Blackmore was fussing as she entered, along with around a dozen people Helen recognised from the businesses in Beach Town. Cecelia was nowhere in sight. The looks on their faces suggested they weren’t here for pleasure.
Lady Blackmore opened with, ‘Well, that decides it. The hotel crest was on my latest letter. Now try and tell me the letters did not originate from this hotel.’
‘And on mine!’ cried Norah Johnson, who as Norah Daniels had once been a chambermaid at the hotel. Before the dairy farmer’s son had made her pregnant and they’d had to marry. ‘Just because I used to work ’ere and had to marry my Jim, don’t give you no permission to send me letters calling me names like trollop.’
‘That’s what I was about to tell you,’ Toshack told Helen. ‘More letters have been received, but this time on hotel notepaper.’
‘And what have I ever done to you?’ said Mrs Riddles, the postmistress from Norfolk Road. ‘Calling me a stinking cow of a liar, just because I took my last letter to the police station.’ She pointed towards Helen.
‘I’ve never done any such thing,’ said Helen, feeling a weight in her chest. ‘And why on earth would I send anonymous letters on hotel paper.’
‘But they’re not anonymous,’ said the landlord of the New Inn, also on Norfolk Road. ‘They’re signed H.B. That’s you innit?’
‘That’s even less likely then,’ said Edie, coming forward.
‘No, it’s to double bluff people, Miss Harvey here reckons,’ said Norah Johnson. ‘And it makes sense. It’d be the best defence in a courtroom.’
‘That’s enough of that now,’ said Inspector Toshack. ‘If you’d all kindly leave me to carry out my job – ’
‘We want to make sure you do carry out your job,’ said Miss Harvey. ‘Not like last time.’
‘I used to think you were a decent sort,’ said Norah, ‘when I worked for you. Thought it was ya ’usband what was the silly bugger. I guess now ’e’s gone away you’ve taken over his meanness too.’
‘That’s enough of that, young woman,’ Sergeant Gardner warned.
‘And this accusation about her ladyship,’ said the landlord. ‘What proof have you got that her companion is her daughter.’
‘We don’t need to mention the details,’ Lady Blackmore whimpered, her hands covering her cheeks.
‘Mine had that ridiculous claim too,’ said Mrs Riddles. ‘I can quote it exactly, I can. ‘Lady Millicent Blackmore can’t keep her vile secret any more, it said. We can all see the likeness between her and Cecelia, and we know that she’s really her bastard child, born out of wedlock.’
Lady Blackmore let out a strangled cry of anguish. ‘Of course that’s not true! I am only ten years older than Cecelia. How could she be my daughter? Whoever heard of anything so absurd?’
‘I agree,’ said Helen. ‘And I would never say such a thing.’
‘Not to our faces,’ said Norah. ‘Makes me wonder what you said be’ind our backs when I was working ’ere.’
‘I’m warning you,’ said the sergeant.
‘What, only me?’ said Norah. ‘What, ’cause I’m the trollop ’ere, eh?
It seemed to Helen that the scene before her was diminishing, and the sound fading. She had an acid taste at the back of her throat. Was she still in bed, dreaming?
The gathering mob started to talk over each other, provoking both Sergeant Gardner and Inspector Toshack to censure them. The sergeant went with, ‘Quiet now!’ while the inspector went with the more polite, ‘Would you all calm down now.’
The double instruction had the desired effect and the incensed chatter ceased immediately.
‘Now, unless you want to be arrested for disturbance of the peace, I suggest you all vacate the hotel,’ said the inspector, stretching up to his full height. ‘And if I receive any reports that you’ve returned to cause trouble, I will spare no time in sending one of my officers to your abodes. Is that clear?’
There were several mumbles of assent, before each of them turned to exit. Lady Blackmore charged out of the door first, almost knocking Norah Johnson over. The rest followed on, subdued, apart from Miss Harvey. She stood, defiant, for several seconds, glaring at Helen. She was the last of them to leave.
Helen was grateful that nobody had emerged from either dining room during this scene, though she had no doubt that the throng that had gathered today would soon pass around news of the latest letters.
‘Mrs Bygrove,’ said Toshack. ‘Mrs Bygrove?’
‘Hm?’ She came to. ‘Sorry, what did you say?’
‘I said, could we go somewhere more private.’
‘Of… of course. Edie, I’m leaving you in charge.’
‘Yes, madam.’
Helen took a deep breath, determined to pull herself together. But she was badly shaken. ‘Come this way.’ She led the four police officers to the staff area, stopping in the corridor. ‘We’ll go to my office.’
‘No, this will suffice,’ said the inspector. ‘WPC Lovelock, you know the building. Show Sergeant Gardner the way.’
‘Yes sir,’ she said with little enthusiasm. She opened the door to the stairs, that led to the staff living quarters.
‘What are they doing?’ said Helen.
‘Carrying out a search.’
Here’s the blurb
Can Helen save the hotel… and her reputation?
Helen Bygrove is managing the hotel, now that her husband has been conscripted. Against all expectations, Helen and her team are doing marvellously, despite the shortages brought by war. Even the exacting Lady Blackmore agrees. But then the calm is shattered when poison pen letters are sent to prominent townsfolk and Helen finds herself the target of a police investigation. Is someone trying to ruin Helen, and the Beach Hotel? And can she rely on the handsome but taciturn Inspector Toshack to help her? When her husband, Douglas, is invalided out of the war he is determined to take back control of the hotel and things go from bad to worse.
How can she ever escape his bullying? Is she a fool to hope that she may have a second chance at love?
Francesca has enjoyed writing since she was a child, largely influenced by a Welsh mother who was good at improvised story telling.
Writing under both her maiden name, Francesca Capaldi, and her married name, Francesca Burgess, she is the author of historical novels, short stories and several pocket novels. She is a member of the Romantic Novelists’ Association and the Society of Women Writers and Journalists.
The first novel in the Wartime in the Valleys series, Heartbreak in the Valleys, was shortlisted for the Romantic Novelists’ Association Historical Award 2021. Both the Valleys series and the Beach Hotel series are published by Hera Books.
Francesca was born and brought up on the Sussex coast, but currently lives in Kent with her family and a cat called Lando Calrission.
I’m delighted to welcome David Fitz-Gerald, and his new book, A Grave Every Mile, with an excerpt.
Excerpt from Chapter 3
First day on the trail, April 15, 1850
Our three teams of oxen, led by Hardtack and Scrapple, stand ready to do their job. It takes a while before it’s our turn to begin pulling, with fifteen wagons ahead of us. When the wheels of the wagon before us begin to turn, Larkin cracks the bullwhip and shouts, “Hi-yah!” He snaps the whip again, and the poor beasts lumber forward.
The broody hen squawks in her box. Straps hold the cage in place on a shelf on the wagon’s exterior. Ridge, the devil-eyed goat, blats in protest as the rope that ties her to the back left corner of the wagon drags her along. I can’t see Blizzard, tied to the other corner of the wagon. The children and I begin on foot, following closely behind Larkin.
I hate it when people are cruel to animals. I should hold my tongue, but I cannot. “Must you snap that whip so sharply? It’s barbaric. We should thank the oxen, not whip them.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Dorcas. I’m not whipping them. I’m whipping the air above them. You know that. We can’t get to Oregon if the oxen don’t move. Don’t carry on like a child.”
Of course, he’s right. Somehow, dressing a deer doesn’t phase me. I can snap a chicken’s neck and pluck its feathers, but the idea of hurting beasts of burden saddens me. “Couldn’t you just tap them lightly on the rump rather than scare the poor creatures?”
“Look, see, we’re already falling behind. We need to drive the oxen faster if we want to get to Oregon before winter.”
“But…”
“That’s enough, Dorcas. Don’t pester me anymore.”
My molars tighten against each other. I know a woman shouldn’t bicker, argue, or nag. Usually, Larkin doesn’t complain about having a garrulous wife. Still, it rankles when he tells me not to pester him.
After walking alongside for half an hour, Dahlia Jane says she is tired. One mile down, one thousand, nine-hundred and ninety-nine miles to go. I lift the child into the wagon. Fortunately, she is content to play quietly by herself.
I walk for a while beside Blizzard. He always seems to listen and understand me when I share my troubles, worries, and complaints. His coat is sleek beneath the palm of my hand. I can never resist stroking his neck. “We’ll take a ride together soon. I promise.”
Dahlia Jane hasn’t moved from her nest in the back of the wagon, so I return to walk with the other children. I’m surprised to find Christopher where Larkin was. Larkin is missing. I glance about and don’t see him anywhere. Andrew smiles and says, “Nature calls.” Rose slaps her forehead and looks at her hand to see if she squashed a bug. Christopher seems to have mastered snapping the bullwhip above the oxen, and it makes me cringe even more than when Larkin does it.
After half an hour, Larkin tells Rose it’s her turn. She had been complaining about boredom and appears to have come alive as Larkin calls out her name. “Alright, Rose. Here is the whip. Hold it high and flick it hard with your wrist so that it snaps in the air above the kine.”
Rose asks, “What if I accidentally hit them with it?”
Larkin answers, “Don’t worry. It will not hurt them. They have thick skin and dull nerves.”
I can’t help but say, “Larkin, how do you know how they feel? Please don’t beat our animals.”
Larkin replies, “We’ll try, but the children must learn how to drive them. If you can’t bear to watch, may I suggest you visit our neighbors?”
“Very well, then.” It doesn’t make it any better knowing they whip the beasts while I’m gone, but I pluck Dahlia Jane from her burrow and wander back to the next wagon.
Here’s the blurb
Embark on a harrowing trek across the rugged American frontier in 1850. Your wagon awaits, and the untamed wilderness calls. This epic western adventure will test the mettle of even the bravest souls.
Dorcas Moon and her family set forth in search of opportunity and a brighter future. Yet, what awaits them is a relentless gauntlet of life-threatening challenges: miserable weather, ravenous insects, scorching sunburns, and unforgiving terrain. It’s not merely a battle for survival but a test of their unity and sanity.
Amidst the chaos, Dorcas faces ceaseless trials: her husband’s unending bickering, her daughter’s descent into madness, and the ever-present danger of lethal rattlesnakes, intensifying the peril with each step. The specter of death looms large, with diseases spreading and the eerie howls of rabid wolves piercing the night. Will the haunting image of wolves desecrating a grave push Dorcas over the edge?
With each mile, the migration poses a haunting question: Who will endure the relentless quest to cross the continent, and who will leave their bones to rest beside the trail? The pathway is bordered by graves, a chilling reminder of the steep cost of dreams.
A Grave Every Mile marks the commencement of an unforgettable saga. Start reading Ghosts Along the Oregon Trail now to immerse yourself in an expedition where every decision carries the weight of life, death, and the pursuit of a brighter future along the Oregon Trail.
David Fitz-Gerald writes westerns and historical fiction. He is the author of twelve books, including the brand-new series, Ghosts Along the Oregon Trail set in 1850. Dave is a multiple Laramie Award, first place, best in category winner; a Blue Ribbon Chanticleerian; a member of Western Writers of America; and a member of the Historical Novel Society.
Alpine landscapes and flashy horses always catch Dave’s eye and turn his head. He is also an Adirondack 46-er, which means that he has hiked to the summit of the range’s highest peaks. As a mountaineer, he’s happiest at an elevation of over four thousand feet above sea level.
Dave is a lifelong fan of western fiction, landscapes, movies, and music. It should be no surprise that Dave delights in placing memorable characters on treacherous trails, mountain tops, and on the backs of wild horses.
I’m delighted to welcome Michael Dunn, and his new book, Anywhere But Schuylkill to the blog, with What’s Love Got To Do With It?
What’s Love Got To Do With It?
As most readers know, a little romance always spices up a story, regardless of the genre. So, for my guest post today, I thought I’d write something about love and romance, in honor of Valentine’s Day.
In my recent historical novel, Anywhere But Schuylkill, my protagonist, Mike Doyle, is in love with a girl named Hannah, who happens to be his sister Tara’s best friend. This is troubling enough for him, since he cares deeply for his sister and doesn’t want to harm her friendship with Hannah. But Mike also works for Hannah’s father, who happens to be a gangster, and he has told Mike to keep his hands off his daughter. And to complicate matters further, Hannah’s mother is incredibly hot, and she likes to flirt with Mike when her husband isn’t around. At the same time, Tara is in love with Mike’s friend Johnny Morris, who their Uncle Sean thinks is a ne’er-do-well. And Uncle Sean is not someone you want to anger.
As a writer, I found these romantic minefields a lot of fun to create. But I also had to do a lot of research, because courtship rituals in the 1870s were so different than today. We’re talking about a small town, rural, and very traditional. There was, of course, a common trick I could exploit that transcends time period: Hannah could sneak away from her protective parents to be with Mike by pretending she was visiting her best friend, Tara. And Tara could sneak away from Uncle Sean, pretending to visit Hannah, but actually run off to meet with Johnny Morris.
This trick will only get you so far as a teen (the adults are usually sharp enough to catch on and will eventually tighten the reins). Likewise, it will only get me so far as a writer, since you modern readers are even sharper than a gilded-age parent. So, let’s talk about the research that helped me make these romances seem more authentic, and true to the era and setting.
One of the first things to consider is that none of these kids went to school. They were too poor and either had to stay home and help with the chores or go out and work for someone else to help support their families. Mike and Johnny Morris worked at the colliery. Tara and her mother worked for a neighborhood washer woman. And Hannah took care of her younger siblings, so her mother could help at the tavern. This left Sunday church as one of the only times and places where teens with strict parents could regularly meet, free of their usual burdens. While there wasn’t much courting that could occur in church, kids could chat before and after mass, and there were plenty of opportunities for lusty thoughts and teen imaginations to run wild.
There were also holidays, and community events, where teens might be able to sneak away from parents and chaperones long enough for a dance, or perhaps something a bit more illicit. Bonfire Night was one such holiday. Celebrated on the evening of June 23, Bonfire Night was historically connected to St. John’s Night, but, like many religious holidays, was likely an appropriation of an older pagan ritual. This would explain the date’s proximity to the summer solstice, and its May Day-like rituals, such as bonfires, which are lit at sunset, and kept going until long after midnight. Typically, there is food, alcohol, song and dance, creating a socially acceptable milieu for courtship. However, it is also a family-friendly event. The pious take embers home to ward off disease and evil spirits. Parents tell stories about the fairies, and kids get to stay up as late as they want because, if they fall asleep on Bonfire Night, the devil is sure to take them. Younger kids beat drums and blow tin whistles. They light sticks on fire and throw them into the air, while teens and young men challenge each other to leap across the fire. The flicker and spark of the flames tell whether they’ve been naughty, particularly in the romance department, and this can be a great source of amusement, or embarrassment.
Another popular holiday for young folks was Halloween. But an Irish-American Halloween in the 1870s was quite different than what most of us have experienced, particularly in terms of romance. The holiday often involved food, games and rituals to divine the future, particularly with regards to matrimony. For example, a traditional (and yummy) Halloween dish was colcannon, a casserole of mashed potatoes, milk, onion and kale, served with lots of butter, if one could afford it. The cook would hide prizes in the colcannon. The person who found a ring hidden in their serving was supposedly the next to get married. Alternatively, they might scoop the first and last spoonful of colcannon into a girl’s stocking, and hang that from a nail in the door, and her future husband would be the next person to enter through that door.
Another Halloween treat was barmbrack, a sweetbread filled with fruit, and sometimes hidden prizes. In this case, finding a hidden ring foretold of an impending romance, whereas a thimble meant you would never get married.
Supposedly, if a girl ate an apple while combing her hair in front of a mirror at midnight on All Hallows Eve, she would see her future husband gazing back at her. If she walked out into the night, blindfolded, and was led to a cabbage patch, she could predict the size and shape of her future husband by the size and shape of the first cabbage she picked. And if she peeled an apple and let the shavings fall to the ground, she might be able to discern her sweetheart’s initials.
Mumming, or guising, was another tradition that the Irish brought to the U.S., and that continues to be practiced in parts of Pennsylvania. Mumming involves dressing in costume and marching from door to door, performing rhyming plays, usually humorous, and often in exchange for food, treats, or even booze. It may have been the origin of the contemporary tradition of trick-or-treating. It was also common for mummers to dress in drag. One typical character was the darling Miss Funny, generally a man in drag, who demanded kisses or treats from audience members. And, instead of pumpkin Jack-o-lanterns, mummers carried hollowed out turnips, carved into grotesque faces, with lumps of burning coal inside to illuminate their way. For a fascinating history of Irish mumming, check out Henry Glassie’s, All Silver and No Brass (1975).
There are other kinds of love that are important in stories, too. For example, the desire to be loved, or the fear of being unlovable, can help explain a character’s motivations and actions. It can even help liven up a character that hasn’t been fully fleshed out yet, that feels too one-dimensional. This was initially the case with my villain, Uncle Sean, who felt like the epitome of a cruel, abusive parent. Indeed, Mike’s little brother, Bill, even says that the only two emotions Uncle Sean can feel are anger and rage. But when I added back story about Sean’s adoration of Aunt Mary, and his belief that she was the only one who could love him, “tetters and all,” he started to seem more like a real person, someone who felt pain and longing, and who struggled with his own insecurities.
This brings us back to my original premise, that a little love or romance helps spice up a story. Obviously, there is the salacious angle, like Hannah’s mom flirting with Mike. But much more important to the craft of writing is how love and romance can be exploited to enrich the side plots and add dimension to the characters. But what I find most interesting of all, is how both reading and writing about fictional love and romance can help us better understand our own real-life relationships with these emotions. What kinds of choices do we make in life to find love? To maintain love? To avoid being jilted or abandoned? And how do these choices affect our ongoing relationships with those we love, like friends and family members?
Here’s the blurb
In 1877, twenty Irish coal miners hanged for a terrorist conspiracy that never occurred. Anywhere But Schuylkill is the story of one who escaped, Mike Doyle, a teenager trying to keep his family alive during the worst depression the nation has ever faced. Banks and railroads are going under. Children are dying of hunger. The Reading Railroad has slashed wages and hired Pinkerton spies to infiltrate the miners’ union. And there is a sectarian war between rival gangs. But none of this compares with the threat at home.
Michael Dunn writes Working-Class Fiction from the Not So Gilded Age. Anywhere But Schuylkill is the first in his Great Upheaval trilogy. A lifelong union activist, he has always been drawn to stories of the past, particularly those of regular working people, struggling to make a better life for themselves and their families.
Stories most people do not know, or have forgotten, because history is written by the victors, the robber barons and plutocrats, not the workers and immigrants. Yet their stories are among the most compelling in America. They resonate today because they are the stories of our own ancestors, because their passions and desires, struggles and tragedies, were so similar to our own.
When Michael Dunn is not writing historical fiction, he teaches high school, and writes about labor history and culture.
Thank you so very much for celebrating the release of, The King She Shouldn’t Crave, with me, on your lovely blog! ❤️
Introduction: In this scene, Natalia finds an inner strength to confront the king. Her husband. It was a pleasure to watch this scene unfold, and to watch Natalia finally demand to be seen, and heard.
Extract:
Angelo’s pen halted mid-swipe, held between long fingers, balanced by a thick wrist cuffed in black. His eyes rose from the paper in front of him.
Lashes, full and long, captured a sunset of liquid gold.
A hypnotising swirl of heat locked on to her. A warmth spread through her fingers, through her arms, her chest, to pump into her stomach. Lower.
Everything stopped—including time.
He stared at her.
She swallowed.
Natalia didn’t want to recognise him as a man. With this heat in her gut. Because whatever this womanly response was, she didn’t like it. It had no purpose here. In this room. With him.
‘I need to speak with you,’ she said huskily, before her training could stop her. Before it demanded she stand silent and continue to live her life like a puppet. Her strings pulled by men. By tradition. By the rules that only served the King. Not the people. Not her.
Angelo lowered his gaze. ‘Then make an appointment.’ His olive fingers flicked over the white paper. Dismissing her.
‘Your Majesty…’ The aide she’d forgotten swept into the room. ‘I apologise—’
‘Leave us,’ he said, his eyes settling back on Natalia, and his look was as blatant as his actions since their wedding. He didn’t want her here.
The door closed. Leaving them alone for the very first time.
‘Why are you here, Principessa?’ Honey-brown eyes latched on to hers. Her breath hitched. The words—all the words she’d held back—swarmed and clumped in her throat.
She’d demanded his attention and here he was, giving it to her.
He was waiting for her to respond.
What was she waiting for?
Her training told her she shouldn’t say a word. Should apologise for interrupting him and leave. Speak only when spoken to. But her obedience had been a facade. The long game. A cover-up.
Uninvited, she reached for the chair opposite him and sat down. Placed her hands in her lap and straightened her back.
Her fingers curled into her palms, her nails biting into her skin. This was the moment. Her moment. And it would hurt to let her underbelly show. To loosen her armour. But what choice did she have other than to tell the truth? To make this an unguarded moment of honesty?
She couldn’t do this alone. The gates were still locked against her, and the shackles of tradition were too tight for her to free them by herself.
She swallowed, pushing down the instinct not to speak. Not to tell him the truth. But she had nothing to lose and everything to gain.
‘I need your help.’
Her armour cracked. And it hurt. The confession in her mouth was heavy, but she made herself push it out. Set it free.
Natalia reached into her pocket and withdrew her coronation speech. She unfolded it with careful precision, leaned forward and placed it before him.
‘And I’m not leaving until I get it.’
Curious? Here are all the details.
Here’s the blurb
Will the king finally surrender to their tantalizing chemistry? Find out in the latest royalty romance by Lela May Wight!
Their royal marriage: Separate beds but shared temptation…
Two months have passed since the world watched Natalia La Morte marry King Angelo Dizieno. But Natalia hasn’t seen or heard from him since their startlingly scorching kiss at the altar…
Promoted from spare to heir after tragedy struck, Angelo can’t be distracted from his duty. Being within touching distance of the woman he has always craved—his brother’s intended queen—has him on the precipice of self-destruction. The last thing he needs is for Natalia to recognize their dangerous attraction. If she does, there’s nothing to stop it from becoming all-consuming…
From Harlequin Presents: Escape to exotic locations where passion knows no bounds.
Lela May Wight grew up with seven brothers and sisters. Yes, it was noisy, and she often found escape in romance books. She still does, but now she gets to write them too! She hopes to offer readers the same escapism when the world is a little too loud.
Lela May lives in the UK with her sons and her very own hero, who never complains about her book addiction – he buys her more books! Check out what she’s up to at lelamaywight.com.
Mia Flanagan has never been told who her father is and, aged ten, stopped asking. Now she keeps her own secrets. But when the movie she’s working on ends in disaster, she flies home to discover her fiancé has a secret too; leaving her dreams crushed.
Broken-hearted, a lonely summer in London looms. Until family friend, Archie Fitzgerald, invites her to stay at his fading mansion on Ireland’s ancient east coast.
For Archie also has a secret, and the longer Mia stays, the more she wonders if Archie really is her father after all.
Summer of Secrets is a tale of how the ghost of love can blight many lives. And how Mia, realising the past cannot hurt her, must make way for new love and the promise of happiness waiting in the wings.
Her Heartfelt Series − The Hollow Heart, A Change of Heart and Secrets of the Heart – is set on an island off Ireland’s west coast andfeatures a feisty investigative journalist, and her irresistible West Highland terrier. Adrienne studied at the Dublin College of Journalism and loves animals, especially dogs.
Her collection of short stories and poetry, Fur Coat & No Knickers was shortlisted for the Irish Carousel Prize for Anthology and her WWII short story, Dodo’s Portrait, was shortlisted for the Colm Toíbín International Short Story Award at the Wexford Literary Festival.
Summer of Secrets is the first in a series of sweeping family dramas, each with a touch of Irish magic.
All her books are heart-warming, uplifting reads, featuring her trademark gripping style, and laugh out loud moments.
Adrienne, husband Jonathan, and two cocker spaniels divide their time between rural Leicestershire, the Wicklow mountains, and coastal South Devon. Agatha Christie – the cat – takes care of things while they are away.
PS: Adrienne’s keeping everything crossed there’s still time to realise her ambition to be a Bond girl.
Murder at Raven’s Edge(An English Village Mystery Book 1)
When Milla Graham returns to her childhood home of Raven’s Edge after eighteen long years away, she finds the perfect English village looks much the same – all rose-covered cottages, nosy neighbours, and quaint teashops full of scones and gossip.
But her nostalgic visit takes a dark turn when the body of a local woman is discovered in an abandoned manor house on the edge of the forest. The murder scene is chillingly close to that of Milla’s own mother, whose death was never solved. As she begins to investigate the connection, Milla realises this adorable village is guarding some dark secrets.
Handsome, grumpy local police detective Ben Taylor doesn’t believe in coincidences, and he doesn’t think mysterious newcomer Milla Graham is as blameless as she seems. Why is she really here in Raven’s Edge, and how come she keeps turning up at his crime scenes, causing trouble? Can he solve this murder case without losing himself – or his heart – to the rather distracting Ms Graham?
When another body is found, everyone becomes a suspect – from the barmaid at the local pub to Milla Graham herself. It seems that in Raven’s Edge, not everybody is as friendly, or as innocent, as they first seem.
This picture-perfect English village is full of rumour, romance… and murder! A gripping, funny, absolutely unputdownable murder mystery, which is perfect for fans of Faith Martin, Fiona Leitch and M.C. Beaton.
Murder at Ravenswood House(An English Village Mystery Book 2)
A gruesome murder in charming Raven’s Edge sends Milla Graham sleuthing to catch a killer, win back her detective ex, and dig up a decades-old secret along the way…
When a shocking murder rocks the picture-perfect English village of Raven’s Edge, erstwhile amateur detective Milla Graham finds herself right at the centre of the mystery. Still reeling from her recent breakup with local police officer Ben Taylor, Milla sets her sights on solving the case, hoping to win Ben back.
But when the evidence begins to point to Milla’s old friend and former paramour Lorcan Black, she must choose between her loyalties to the past and the possibilities of the future. Meanwhile, Ben is on a different trail – he’s begun to suspect that the murderer could be someone from his own family’s dark history.
Further complicating matters are Milla’s meddling grandmother, Ben’s no-nonsense police partner Harriet, and David the surprisingly young and sexy new vicar. With shocking twists around every cobblestone corner, the truth refuses to stay buried for long in this quaint village, whose picture-postcard façade hides decades of buried grudges, plots, and betrayal.
Will Milla solve the mystery in time to rescue her relationship with Ben? Can Ben face the skeletons in his family’s closet before one of his own relatives meets the same bloody end?
Brimming with drama, intrigue, romance and quirky characters, this addictive tale will have cosy mystery fans racing through the pages long into the night. Fans of M.C. Beaton, Faith Martin and Fiona Leitch will love this book!
Louise Marley writes murder mysteries and romantic comedies. She is lucky enough to live in a village where there is a famous library and TWO ruined castles. (Her husband still thinks they moved there by accident.)
Her first published novel was Smoke Gets in Your Eyes, which was a finalist in Poolbeg’s ‘Write a Bestseller’ competition. She has also written articles for the Irish press and short stories for women’s magazines such as Take a Break and My Weekly. Previously, Louise worked as a civilian administrative officer for the police.
MJ Porter 