The Disorganised Author

Review For Royalist Rebel

noreply@blogger.com (Anita Davison) — Fri, 14 Jun 2013 08:23:00 +0000

I don't normally boast about my reviews, for every good one there are three bad ones hovering somewhere, right? I had to share this one from Petrea Burchard, who wrote it for her local publication Hometown Pasadena, really did 'get' what I was trying to portray in my version of Elizabeth Murray's story of her struggles during the English Civil War. When readers do that, it makes all the hard work and research worthwhile.

Regardless of the story inside, recent covers of historical novels are all about the bodice. A hint of cleavage indicates a hint of romance, maybe even lust. These books are obviously aimed at women, but when the character’s head is cut out of the picture, I wonder what kind of women those cover designers are aiming for.

The cover of Royalist Rebel suggests something less frivolous. It’s a circa 1651 portrait of the book’s protagonist, Elizabeth Murray, Lady Tollemache, with a black servant, possibly her beloved slave, Nero. It was painted at Ham House by Sir Peter Lely, and it still hangs there, where Elizabeth grew up and where much of the story takes place. There’s a bodice, yes, followed by a story that includes some lust and romance.

But author Anita Seymour takes her history seriously. The fun in historical fiction is letting someone else do the research for you. Some is more fiction, some is more historical. Seymour leans to the latter with an almost literal account of the facts.

Elizabeth Murray, a staunch royalist during the English Civil War of the 1640’s, is the only pretty sister of four. Raised by William Murray, First Earl of Dysart, a royalist spy and confidante of King Charles I, and Catherine Bruce Murray, who carries her husband’s secret messages back and forth across England, young Elizabeth catches on quickly to her parents’ schemes.

The real Elizabeth was known to be determined to have what she wanted, and in Seymour’s Royalist Rebel, what Elizabeth wants is Ham House. The king granted her father the lease on it in 1626, and it has been in her family ever since. She will stop at nothing to keep it for her family, and to inherit it for herself.

To keep Ham House out of the hands of rebels and the anti-royalist Parliament, Elizabeth must scheme against rebel leader Oliver Cromwell himself, and she does so with cunning and charm. Elizabeth is imperious, headstrong, and bossy. She believes that being of noble birth makes her better than those beneath her, especially rebel soldiers, and at times this snobbishness puts her and her loved ones in danger.

Seymour has made the wise choice to tell her story in first person, otherwise it might be difficult to sympathize with Elizabeth. But as we get inside her head, even as she disdains the lower class rebels, we begin to want her to succeed in keeping Ham House. We feel her discomfort when confronted by dirty soldiers. We cringe at the danger when a local rebel captain threatens. Yet while Elizabeth complains about minor losses (there’s very little wine left in the cellar), Seymour manages to show us rebel soldiers, outside Ham House, starving to the point of tearing out the gardens and chasing down livestock.

Seymour’s research is exhaustive. She weaves the most minute details into the story–the meaning in a turn of the neck, what is signaled by the uses of the hand, the styles of clothing. She also shows us the décor of every building the story visits, from Oxford to Ham House to Helmingham Hall in Suffolk.
The book is packed with names, dates, battles, wins, losses, and even body counts, all of them true to historical records. So much so, in fact, that this is my one quibble with the book. Seymour gets much of this information across in dialogue, and at times this fact-giving chit-chat is awkward, and not necessary to the whole.

However, besides the immense load of research she has accomplished in which I get to immerse myself, Seymour provides us with motivated, dimensional characters. No one is completely right, and no one is completely wrong. And as Elizabeth plots and schemes her way through the war, Anita Seymour excels at setting. In the best way, very few poetic phrases call attention to themselves. Yet I find myself immersed in the smell of lavender on a cool, English evening, or feeling claustrophobic as I climb the stairs to visit my lover in the Tower of London, or simply walking the halls of Ham House and wanting it for my own.

Petrea Burchard‘s new novel, Camelot & Vineavailable as in paperback and as an ebook. Her blog, Living Vicuriously, is featured on Hometown Pasadena’s “Best Blogs in San Gabriel Valley.” Petrea’s 30-year acting career began morphing into a writing career with “Act As If,” her humor column about the journeyman actor’s life, now in reruns at NowCasting.com. She gained a following in the animè world as the original English voice of Ryoko, a space pirate in the cult classic Tenchi Muyo!, and continues voice-over work as the voice of Stater Bros. markets.

Do Writers' Blogs Work?

noreply@blogger.com (Anita Davison) — Mon, 10 Jun 2013 08:42:00 +0000

Agents, publishers, editors and other authors always tell me that if I am serious about a writing career, I must have some sort of web presence. That blogging is one of the most important ways to market your persona and your writing because readers want to hear about your everyday life, what set you on the path to authorship etc.

I looked up a few statistics, which may or may not be accurate, after all we have all heard that 96% of statistics are made up, or that there are lies, damn lies and statistics, but here they are anyway.

Apparently, 46% of people read blogs multiple times a day, and another 32% read them at least once a day.

These figures don't specify what sort of blogs these refer to, and writer blogs tend to occupy their own niche, so this may render them totally inaccurate - but I have to begin somewhere.

But do they work, in that does a writer's blog sell more books?

Also, are paid blogs any more effective that free blogs? Not easy to quantify that one, so I shall avoid it. A blog is a blog is a blog. Even if you are diligent and blog once a day or once a week, does the magic happen and thousands of people spot your blog and come back to read it regularly? Not necessarily.

What's the magic formula to draw readers and then get them to buy your books? Do you write about the genre your books are about, or stick to personal anecdotes, including your progression from hobby writer to published author? Bearing in mind that particular journey could be a protracted and depressing one - how many of us write a novel, send it out to agents and published and Yay - someone picks it up and it suddenly appears in the bestseller lists? Writing as a long term career is not that simple for most.

Do we hope someone will notice our hard work—and reward us with an endless supply of traffic that converts readers into book buyers, fans and a stream of positive reviews?

It's logical that the more time you spend working on something without seeing quantitative results, the harder it is to continue doing it. We all begin with the best of intentions but sometimes blogging gets in the way of the real 'job' as it were - the writing. Then there is always the problem of what to write.

Do readers really want to hear about how cute your cat is and how he nudges the keyboard as you are trying to work? Difficult to say - there are plenty of cat lovers out there-but how many of them are likely to progress from 'cute cat anecdotes' to buying your books?

No one knows, which is exactly the point, and deserving bloggers can easily become demotivated, so the next time you visit their blog, you notice the last post is dated months before.

According to the marketing bods, creating too much content can be a death knell - not everyone can keep up with writing daily blog posts never mind reading them. Apparently, adding more content to blogs which have a small number of readers doesn’t help get more readers. I suspect the effectiveness of blogs, including author blogs, is that there are so many 'out there' we couldn't keep up with them if we tried.

One blog marketing company says:

“You don’t have to create content, day in, and day out. You just have to work on getting the content you already have… in the hands of more people.”

Good advice - I think - but how?

Have You Been Plagarised?

noreply@blogger.com (Anita Davison) — Wed, 15 May 2013 12:27:00 +0000

I was sent a link from one of my fellow members of the Hoydens and Firebrands Blog this morning saying she looked up a blog post I wrote on the subject of 17^th Century Funeral Practices. While comparing it with others, she came across one as almost exactly the same as mine.

On reading it I discovered she was right, in that the style, phraseology, and even the order in which the information was laid out looked eerily similar. Curious, I went looking for other sources, and within minutes found a second one which was again virtually the same as mine.

I am more bemused about this than annoyed - I mean the historical information wasn’t mine to begin with, compiled from various sources such as Maureen Waller's 1700 - Scenes of London Life, which is a fantastic reference book, and Liza Picard's Restoration London, but I did spend the time to compile it from different sources and write it in my own words.

I wanted to kill off one of my main characters and became fascinated with the rituals and beliefs of the time, especially things like 'woolen shrouds' being instigated by Charles II to promote the wool trade, but everyone paid the fine for a linen one as 'no one was buried in flannel' Then there was the belief that keeping the nose and mouth of a sick person closed to stop the spirit escaping - which struck me as an excuse for euthanasia!

What qualifies these days as research as opposed to plagiarism? There are hundreds of online history reference books, essays, articles and blogs out there on every subject imaginable, information that is limited until the boffins discover more, so the posts are bound to resemble each other.

Maybe I should be pragmatic and treat it as a compliment, but one thing it has taught me, is always acknowledge your original source as part of the article, or it could come back to haunt you.

Or is this a sign that we are all growing lazy and the ease of the ‘cut and paste’ facility makes word thieves of us all as it doesn’t seem like wrongdoing? It is reassuring that my post was dated July 2009 while the other two are 2012 and 2013, so I can relax in that the accusations won’t be directed my way.

Has anyone else been plagarised? Or has someone simply paid you a compliment by using your words?

Cute Seagull taken from KayKayKit at Deviant Art

Me Too Victoria!

noreply@blogger.com (Anita Davison) — Tue, 30 Apr 2013 12:19:00 +0000

My sincerest apologies to Victoria Lamb for having hi-jacked her blog post today, and kicking myself she thought of it first! - but it struck such a chord with me I found myself doing a Meg Ryan and shouting 'Yes' into the air - minus the slapping the table thing.

Y'see, I too suffer from the notebook obsession - I cannot pass a rack of bound and neatly lined up notebooks in stationary shops,or gift shops, or even Sainsbury's - I really can't.

Even if I can resist buying one - which isn't often, I like to heft the weight of them in my hand, and stroke the binding or admire the baroque/abstract/quirky design on the cover.

I have several, not telling how many exactly - of different sizes and thicknesses, some in their own Aspinal presentation boxes with leather straps wound round as closures, magnetic ones and others with slots at the side to accommodate a pretty ballpoint pen I'll never use.

Some I have had for five years, their crisp white pages unblemished by my handwriting which has grown scratchy by years of keyboard work - in fact I think I have forgotten how to hold a pen. Pens and pencils aren't quite so attractive, though I do have a Cross Pen I won't let anyone touch and rarely use myself. Yeah I know, I'm strange.

I don't name them, as Victoria does, [do read her blog post too, it's only fair] but I harbour no desire whatsoever to write in these pristine, perfect beautiful notebooks. I tried it once and the words weren't perfect and looked wrong on the page - spoiled it even - so I discarded it as a failure and went back to the virgin ones.

And so my notebooks shall stay until my last breath - and then the kids will scribble shopping lists on them or rip them up to leave notes for the milkman. Sob.

Chedworth Roman Villa

noreply@blogger.com (Anita Davison) — Mon, 22 Apr 2013 14:50:00 +0000

Chedworth Roman Villa

I know how my US writer friends always like to hear about historic houses and ancient sites in England I visit, so this is for them. This Roman villa was built just off the Fosse Way, about eight miles north Cirencester [Corinium Dobunnorum] overlooking the River Coln in the Cotswolds

There were about fifty Roman villas built in the Cotswold area, this one was begun at around 120 AD, evolving over a period of two hundred years into a substantial dwelling set round three sides of a courtyard.

We don’t know what it’s original name was, but included in the structure is a heated and furnished west wing containing a dining-room (triclinium) with a mosaic floor, as well as two separate bathing suites – one for damp-heat and one for dry-heat, a water-shrine and latrine. The owners built an apsidal shrine [a hemispherical vault or semi-dome, with Doric columns on a base] over the spring to the water-nymphs, where a Christian chi-rho monogram was discovered scratched on the rim of the pool.

It is assumed that the site was chosen because of this natural spring, which ran from the hills and fed the entire site, providing water for drinking, washing and also fed the under floor heating system by gravity.

Discovered by accident in 1864 by a gamekeeper who found fragments of paving and pottery in a bank of soil, it remains one of the largest Romano-British villas in England. It’s pretty impressive even in it’s ‘ruined’ state and so large, it must have been built and occupied by a very rich Roman, but of course no records exist as to who he might have been.

The Victorian owner of the land, the Earl of Eldon, recognised the importance of the find, and set a team of fifty men to excavate the site. They unearthed mosaic floors in eleven principal rooms, which also had under floor heating systems and hot and cold bathhouses.

Detail of the Triclinium mosaic showing the spirit of winter

In 1924 the site was bought for The National Trust and a child's coffin was found in 1935, as well as several further rooms which show how extensive the original villa was.

A stone carving of a hunter with a dog and stag was unearthed, and another bearing part of an inscription believed to refer to the healing god Mars Lenus, a deity of the Treveri tribe in Gaul.

What I found puzzling, and what may never be known now, is was what was the villa intended for? A rich man’s private house, a garrison, or a meeting place for politically important people?- Cirencester was one of the major Roman centres at the time.

Apparently the Romans brought with them a species of snail which they regarded as a delicacy, and legend has it that these snails still breed in the area - There are signs saying ‘Mind the Roman snails’.

In 2011 construction work was carried out to provide a new cover building for the mosaics to ensure their lasting quality. The villa has it’s own blog which features an account of the excavations which make fascinating reading Click here

The Liebster Award

noreply@blogger.com (Anita Davison) — Wed, 17 Apr 2013 13:37:00 +0000

I admit to having put off this task because some imagination is required in accepting this blog award. However, it was so nice of Kerry Letheby to nominate me, I shall give it a go!

Quoting from Kelly - The Liebster Blog Award is an award bestowed upon bloggers by bloggers, the word Liebster being German, meaning ‘sweetest’, ‘kindest’, ‘dearest,’ ‘beloved’, ‘lovely’, ‘kind’, ‘pleasant’, ‘valued’, ‘cute’ and ‘endearing’. The award encourages bloggers to continue on with their work in the blogging world, acknowledges them as gifted bloggers in their own right, and by nominating bloggers, you indicate that they are some of your personal favourites.

Here is how it works:

The nominated blogger must post 11 facts about themselves.

They must then answer 11 questions from the blogger who nominated them.

Then nominate 11 bloggers and give them 11 questions to answer.

Link to your chosen 11 bloggers in your blog post.

Let them know you have nominated them.

Don't nominate the blogger who nominated you.

11 Facts about me:

1 I’m a Londoner married to a northerner and about to move into his territory now our kids have left home.

2 I broke both wrists, my foot and cracked my kneecap twice before I was 8!

3 My first novel was published at age 50 [not the novel - me]

4 My next writing ambition is to write a cozy mystery - scrap that, complete a good cozy mystery

5 I hate avocados and scallops but love chilli and anchovies

6 I play rock music at full volume when driving

7 I love the 17th Century - maybe I once lived there.

8 I hate telephones, mobiles too, and tend to stick to e-mails - they can be edited!

9 I have an unhealthy reliance on my laptop - or so my family say.

10 I keep a pen drive containing all my current and finished manuscripts with me at all times

11 I wish I was a better writer - but I am working on it.

Answers to Kelly’s questions to me:

1 Who knows you best in life - My husband of 33 years - No it isn’t an Awwww moment, it’s infuriating. I cannot hide anything, or start a fight without him knowing what the underlying issue is. It’s so frustrating!

2 If you could spend your life doing anything you like, what would it be? - Actually I do spend my life doing what I want, sort of, though there are still elements I don’t like - housework for instance.

3 What is your earliest memory? - I was in my pram and my mother [probably] whisked me out and placed me on a blanket on the floor. I can see the pram wheel and the front door where the sun shone through the stained glass - and I was furious ‘cos I wanted to stay in the pram where my toy was - I was apparently about 8 months old. I didn’t cry though - I was always a silent seether!

4 What lifts you up when you are feeling down? - Writing, which takes me into another world where time passes at a different rate - it’s my most effective means of escape.

5 What are you most thankful for in life? - Perfect health and my family-boring but true.

6 If you were given $1000, what would you spend it on? - A new laptop and more research books.

7 Are you a hot weather person or a cold weather person? - Cold - I cannot function in high temperatures - heat drains me, mentally and physically

8 Name one thing on your bucket list. - I don’t have a bucket list

9 What is your favourite movie? - I have two - Steel Magnolias and Practical Magic

10 What is your favourite 'get away from it all place'? - The Lakes in NW England

11 What piece of advice do you hand out most often? - Age has taught me that no one wants advice - whether they ask for it or not. What they want is affirmation of the decision they have already made. So my response these days is that I hope whatever they decide works for them.

Here are the 11 blogs I've tagged:

Bookbabe Blogspot
Dishin' It Out
Petrea Burchard
The Brooklyn Scribbler
Alison Brideson
Jane Beckenham
Hazel Gaynor
Cathie Dunn
Margaret Evans Porter
Laura Purcell
Talli Roland

Here Are The 11 Questions I Asked my Tagged Blogs -

There is a theme running through here - Men and Food

1. Belgian chocolate or Pino Grigio?

2. Ryan Reynolds or Matt Damon?

3. Ben and Jerry’s [any flavour] or crème brulee?

4. Orlando Bloom or Johnny Deppe?

5. Roasted duck breast or grilled goat’s cheese?

6. Gourmet dinner out or nachos and salsa in front of the TV?

7. Jamie Oliver or Raymond Blanc?

8. Christmas turkey with cranberry sauce or goose with spiced orange sauce?

9. Jason Statham or Daniel Craig?

10. Who would you cast as the hero in a film made of your latest novel?

11. Who would you cast as the heroine in a film made of your latest novel?

Have fun responding to this, bloggers, and keep up the good work with your very entertaining blogs.

Guest Post - Petrea Burchard

noreply@blogger.com (Anita Davison) — Thu, 28 Mar 2013 07:00:00 +0000

I have a very special visitor on my blog today, one whom I don't need to explain as she has done so in her post in the most touching way.

Welcome Petrea, and I hope my readers enjoy her post as much as I do.

Networking is Giving by Petrea Burchard

When I visited England's Hampton Court Palace in 1999, I was intrigued that a few Grace and Favour residents still lived there. I mused about the place and finally, years later, began to research it. The library is my friend, but Google and I are also close, and with its help I found online treasure: the Brimstone Butterfly, a prolific blog about the grand houses of England.

Caro Riikonen began blogging as The Brimstone Butterfly in 2009. During her visits to the great houses she took pictures and shot video. She asked questions and befriend staff, gaining access to places most of us will never see. Fortified with information, she wrote rambling yet snappy posts about the history, décor, and intrigue of places I've longed to visit. Nineteen of those posts are about Hampton Court, her favorite.

The Butterfly's blog didn't receive a lot of comments but I couldn't resist gushing. We struck up an occasional, warm correspondence. I hoped to travel to England again someday, when perhaps Caro and I would visit a great house together.

About a year ago, Caro didn't post for a couple of months.

Then came a final post, from her friends. Caro had killed herself.

In tears, I Googled her name. Among other things, I found an article about the inquest and a thoughtful post by an author and blogger named Anita Davison.

As I had searched for Hampton Court, Anita was researching Ham House, a Jacobean mansion on the Thames, when she came upon the Brimstone Butterfly's inquisitive photos and saucy posts. I imagine the friendship she struck up with Caro might have been a bit like Caro's and mine: not close, but congenial. "We never met," wrote Anita, "but not only will I miss her blog, I will miss her too. Goodby Caro, and though you may not have known it, you were appreciated." She was. She still is.

I left a comment on Anita's post. She emailed me. A year later, we're still friends. I've already read her Duking Days: Rebellion, and her latest, Royalist Rebel, is at the top of my "to be read" pile.

To make friends one must give as well as receive. In Camelot & Vine, my novel about an American actress who falls through a gap in time and saves King Arthur's life, the protagonist is no good at making friends because she thinks only of herself. But by the end of the story, the most important thing to her is to serve her friends, even if they will never know what she's done for them.

Caro will never know what she did for so many of us. Her blog is like a box of precious gems. Every time you open it you find a jewel you hadn't known was there, and (wonder of wonders!) it's yours. Caro gave these delights freely to us all. She also gave me a friend.

Remember the early days of the internet, when some said an online friend wasn't "real"? Don't you believe it. When Royalist Rebel came out, in a showing of support Anita's online friends posted about her book on their blogs. Now she has invited us to post on her blog in return. She's a perfect example of how to give as well as receive. These days we talk a lot about networking. Well, networking is giving.

I hope to visit England again soon. When I do, I'm not leaving until Anita and I visit one of the great houses together. Maybe two. When she shows Ham House to me and I drag her along to Hampton Court, we will think of Caro.

Petrea's Website

Camelot and Vine Blurb

Lying is second nature to Casey Clemens, whether she's hawking cheap products on national television or talking to her mother on the phone. Casey's got a decent condo, a cleaning lady, and a rich boyfriend (never mind that he's married). If Casey feels dissatisfied, all she has to do is fantasize about her hero, King Arthur.

It feels like an acting career, sort of, until the day before Casey's 40th birthday, when she loses everything she never cared about, falls through a gap in time, and accidentally saves the real King Arthur's life. He's grateful, but he has enemies. War encroaches, and an actress with an honesty problem has no place in a war camp. Not if she wants to make it back to the 21st century alive. Not that she could go back if she wanted to. Not that she wants to.

See Anita's Review of Camelot and Vine on the Historical Novel Review Blog

Guest Post - Ginger Simpson

noreply@blogger.com (Anita Davison) — Fri, 22 Mar 2013 07:30:00 +0000

I have the lovely Ginger Simpson on my blog today talking about one of my favourite western romances - It's all yours Ginger.

Why do romance books rank high on best-selling lists? I think it’s because most women are romantic by nature. Don’t we all hope for ‘happily ever afters’ and heroes that charge in and save us from…well from whatever threatens us?

Writing romance comes quite naturally for me. I write from my own perspective. The way I fantasize my hero would react to me, treat me, love me. Sadly, life isn’t always like fiction, but reading the romantic stories of passionate authors gives us pause to dream, smile, and be entertained.

I’ve had two loves in this life. My first marriage lasted thirty-two years and I’m working towards my seventeenth with my second husband. Neither one of them rode in on a white stallion and fought a dragon for my attention, but it doesn’t matter how your hero came to be part of your life…what matters is he/she is. My first ‘hero’ rode into my life in his 1962 Impala with side pipes that sounded like a jet engine. My second ‘hero’ rode into someone else’s life who didn’t have time for him. I met him at a single’s dance while he awaited the attention of the woman who invited him there. I liked what I saw, asked him to dance, and found the ‘matching shoe’ I’d been searching for. Her loss!

While my first husband used to look around at parties and gatherings, then whisper in my ear, "you’re the prettiest woman here," my present husband falls flat in the compliment department. He’s about as smooth-talking as sandpaper, but he SHOWS me his love by the sweet things he does. Sort of like writing styles. Some authors tell you their stories while others go to great pains to show you theirs. That’s what differentiates a story from a novel. If you feel the love, sense the butterfly kisses, and warm from the passion, then you’re reading a novel!

It’s taken me a while to glean all the ins and outs of fiction writing, and I learn something new every day. I think I’ve got the first kiss down pretty good. At least my friend says this is her favorite so far:

Excerpt from Ellie's Legacy– Setting the Scene: Ellie has been practicing her shooting on the sly, and Ty challenges her to a contest. She accepts, and although she loses the first round, she foolishly agrees to another. To her delight, she wins, and….

Ellie delighted in the dumbstruck look on his face. She’d matched him shot for shot. Maybe she’d taken a split second longer, but she’d knocked down all her cans. Wasn’t that what counted? What she set out to do?
Ty still hadn’t said a word. He kept staring at the log as if expecting his one remaining can to fall, or for one of hers to jump back up. Ellie couldn’t stand the silence, and containing her need to gloat got harder by the moment.
“Well, aren’t you going to say anything?” Her lips curved into a smug smile.
He shrugged. “I’m not sure what to say. It looks as though your practicing has paid off. Good thing we didn’t really wager anything on it.”
She erupted into uncontrollable laughter. It couldn’t be helped. Her glee at proving she could shoot, and at this moment, better than him, was cause for celebration. She covered her mouth to stifle her levity. It seemed overly cruel to rub it in too much.
“And…just what would you have wagered?” Her curiosity piqued.
Without a word, Ty closed the distance between them, gathered her into his arms and covered her mouth with his. Her eyes widened, and a gasp of surprise parted her lips enough for his tongue to dart inside to mingle with her own. Shivers of delight coursed through her body, turning her knees to jelly. Her startled eyes slowly closed and she melted into his embrace. Just as she started to revel in the moment, he pulled away and held her at arm’s length.
“That’s what I would have wagered,” he said matter-of-factly. “Too bad I lost.”
With a grin, he turned and began gathering up the strewn cans and putting them back into his burlap sack.
Ginger's Blog
Ginger's Website

Guest Post - Wendy Laharnar

noreply@blogger.com (Anita Davison) — Fri, 15 Mar 2013 07:00:00 +0000

I would like to welcome to my blog today, lovely Australian author, Wendy Laharnar, whose most recent releases at MuseItUp are three 'shorts', heartwarming stories set in three very different times and places.

Happiness Guaranteed - A Relationship Between Two Perfect Lovers

'Charming and Chilling SciFi Story'

Bianca is a beautiful Epicurean Supremo from a privileged futuristic society, but she has a flaw which, if discovered and reported to the Rulers, will threaten her life and that of the man she loves. Unable to pinpoint the cause she tries to hide her anxiety until an ingenious birthday present from Derek, her husband, provides a respite. Now, on her thirty-third birthday, her primitive behaviour and thought patterns return; stronger and more dangerous.

Excerpt

Bianca’s bed swayed in gentle rhythm with her floating condominium. Smiling, she opened her eyes and reached across the white expanse for Derek. He wasn’t there. Damn. She’d overslept; very out of character. What if he noticed? No. He’ll return soon and find me on the balcony exactly where he expects me to be, especially today.

She rolled onto her back, stealing a few extra minutes in bed and glanced up at the domed ceiling high above her: Derek’s masterpiece. The wide, stained glass panels let shafts of coloured light sprinkle life into her sterile world. She watched the lazy sunbeams paint murals on the milky walls. They tinselled the buckles on the two pairs of shoes and spotlighted the confusion of clothes on a moulded chair.

Flinging back the covers, she stretched, letting the sun energize her skin. “What a glorious morning,” she murmured. Only Penthouse Dwellers, like Derek and herself attained this privilege. According to Derek, sunlight symbolized their status. For a moment she revelled in true contentment.

An image of her grandfather snuck into her mind. He’d told her of a time when sunlight shone on everyone, but he’d been a storyteller, a bad influence. On her seventh birthday her parents forbade her to visit him any more, and placed him out-of-bounds. Years later she heard he’d died.

Her happiness shrivelled. “Unimportant.” She scowled, jumped out of bed and slipped into clear, tensile slippers. A filigree tunic lay on the floor where she let it fall the night before. She picked it up, grabbed yesterday’s clothes off the chair, hurried to the primping room and dropped them all down the trash-chute. “There!” She stabbed her finger on the Restyle button.

With her fingertips, she massaged her cheeks and studied herself in the mirror. Thirty-three, today. No obvious flaws, not yet, apart from that one little glitch Derek inadvertently fixed last birthday.

Billy the Bonsai Bull - A Love of Animals

Excerpt

The calf padded forward. He looked into his mother’s face and mooed softly. Her glazed, weepy eyes no longer focused on his. He nibbled on her ear. She didn’t stir.
The farmer’s wife sighed and reached forward to pat his head. “Come on, little bull. I’ll get you a nice warm drink. What do you think of that?” His hair bristled. Without his mother’s protection, he didn’t feel comfortable with these people. He darted away to the safety of a gum tree.
“This calf will be harder for you to rear than mothering a newborn,” the farmer warned his wife. “This one’s had the real thing for three weeks.”
“Maybe, but you’ll have to help me get a collar and lead on it. After that, how hard can it be? Besides, I must succeed. I promised Misty.”
The little bull waited till they walked up the hill and out of sight. He ventured out from behind the tree trunk and settled on a patch of dirt inside the hawthorn bush a short distance from where his mother lay. In his cave-like shelter he dozed, until a sudden, terrifying pressure on his ribs woke him.
The farmer’s knee pinned him to the ground. He squirmed and wriggled to his feet, kicking defiantly with his hind legs, but the farmer held him fast. The wife approached with a thin orange strap and secured the collar around his little neck. She picked up a bottle filled with a strange white liquid and pushed its rubber teat into his mouth. The teat smelled like the black boots on her feet. He eased it out with his tongue. She tried again. With her free hand she continually scratched his throat. He had to swallow. Then he gagged and struggled and spat and stamped on the woman’s foot.
She laughed and hugged him. “In spite of your tiny body and cute little face, you’re such a stubborn beast. You behave like a goat. A Billy goat! That’s what I’ll name you.” She stood and tugged on the lead. “Come on Billy, it’s me or nothing.”

A Summer Squall - Loving A Child . . . When Your Story Is Your Child

New Release – March 1st from MuseItUp Publishing.

A writer, desperate to meet a deadline, struggles with writers’ block. Drawing on the five senses for inspiration, she is swept out of her depth when she tries to rescue a shipwrecked child. She rushes in, ill-equipped for the challenge and unprepared for the ensuing revelation.

Excerpt:

Lightning flashed, and a sudden, deafening clap of thunder made me jump. The storm grew fierce and wind captured a small voice spiralling towards me.
“Help! Somebody! Please help me!”
“I’m coming,” I called, unsure if I’d heard the cry of a child or merely a distressed gull. Running, stumbling helplessly, jagged stones cutting my bare feet, I ran faster, feeling no pain.
I pressed forward into the gale and reached the cliff top despite the determined tempest holding me back. Below in the sea, a boy, not more than ten years old, clung to the sides of his frail craft. The sail was ripped, and the mast split like a pencil snapped in disgust.
“Hold on. Everything will be all right.” I must believe that, but how could I? Wind and rain fought my every movement. They twisted my light cotton skirt around my legs and wrapped my drenched hair over my face as though they were using me to hinder myself. The wind knocked me to the ground. I sent a hurried prayer to the gods, pleading for strength and courage to persevere.
Slithering backward, I let my legs dangle over the cliff’s edge. With my feet clawing at the rock face, I found a ledge and carefully eased my body over. White spray sharpened by rain cut into my back. Lightning split the sky. A wild wave flung the tiny boat against the rocks. It rose on the swell and then the ebb sucked it out to the open sea. I counted the seconds, waiting for the thunderclap. The shock of it slammed me against the rock face.
Unequipped and unprepared, this challenge was probably too great. Shouldn’t I delegate someone else to rescue this child? No, I could do it. Focus.
I moved down the rocks again, aware only of my grasping fingers urgently carrying me to the sea. Cut and torn, I reached the torrent the instant the little boat sacrificed itself to the breakers.

Wendy's Website:
Wendy's Muse Author Page
Wendy's Amazon Author Page

Guest Post - Kathryn Kopple

noreply@blogger.com (Anita Davison) — Sat, 09 Mar 2013 07:00:00 +0000

Today I would like to welcome Kathryn Kopple, whose title Little Velasquez takes readers to 15th century Spain and the court of the united Catholic monarchs, Ferdinand and Isabel. Kathryn is here to talk about the novel and offer a copy to a lucky winner. Please leave a comment with your email address for a chance to win. Here's the blurb:

Five years of war between Castile and Portugal have come to an end.

A new queen, Isabel I, sits on the throne of Castile. Her consort, Fernando of Aragón, suspects that the child she is carrying is illegitimate. A dwarf by the name of Velasquillo journeys from the pestilent-stricken lands of Catalonia to the imperial city of Toledo in search of fame and fortune. He rises to the highest circles of power, where he learns what it means to sacrifice his will and dignity to the ambitions of great men and women.

Little Velásquez is a work of historical fiction set in 15th century Spain, and a tragic-comedic exploration of political intrigue, religious persecution, foreign conquest, and personal exile.

Kathryn, How did you become interested in writing about 15th century Spain?

First of all, I’d like to thank you, Anita, for giving me the opportunity to talk about Little Velásquez. It means a great deal to me. As for your question, I spent long stretches living and studying in the north and south of Spain. I felt confident that, knowing so much of the history, and being fluent in English and Spanish, I could take advantage of sources in both languages. The writing of the novel proved more difficult. How does one translate a very complicated period in history into fictional form? It took a lot of trial and error, as you well know Anita (thank you again for all your input during the seven years I struggled with writing the novel) but I kept at it because the period in which the novel takes place (the thirteen years leading up to 1492) were of pivotal importance in world history.

Where did your sources come from and was the research difficult?

The research was a joy for me. Libraries are some of my favorite places. When you are dealing with the Middle Ages and Renaissance history, it’s important to realize that much of what was written (the chronicles) are not history in the modern sense of the word. Chronicles are not necessarily objective; they are homages for the most part and easily romanticized. I wanted to actually show that in the novel. I also thought it important to list all of my sources—historical and current research.

Why did you make Velasquillo, a dwarf, the central protagonist?

It was serendipity to discover Velasquillo, who is an actual historical person. I found him in footnote and I began to imagine what could have brought him to the court of Isabel and Fernando. Also, it was wonderful to write from the “fool’s” point of view, but difficult to try to keep up with a character who is quick on his toes, a wit, and also perceptive enough to recognize the dangers and intrigue of palace life.

This is your first work of historical fiction. What were some of the difficulties you encountered turning history into fiction?

The novel went through dozens of revisions. Some early feedback I received from those who critiqued the novel (again, Anita, you were fantastic in that sense) caused me to recognize just how challenging it is to write historical fiction--remarks such as, “You’ve done a wonderful job with historical detail but what about the story?” I had loads of research, details that could fill a filing cabinet—but where was the story? The more I thought about Velasquillo, questions began to arise—because you have to remember I only had a footnote, just a mention of this court dwarf. How had he arrived at the court of Isabel I and Fernando II? What made it possible for him to gain the favor of two of the most powerful monarchs of the era? How had he survived all the intrigue, tumult, revolts—and the crusade that led to the conquest of Granada? These questions soon became the basis for the story.

What are some of your favorite historical fiction titles?

The Leopard by Giuseppe Tomasi di Lampedusa is a gem, and I recommend it to anyone. I also admire the works of Luis Alberto Urrea (The Hummingbird’s Daughter and Queen of America). And then there are Latin American writers such as Alejo Carpentier, Gabriel García Márquez, Carlos Fuentes, and many others.

Do you write only novels—or do you work in other genres as well?

I am a translator of Latin American poetry and prose. I also write essays, book reviews, and poetry. The Threepenny Review recently included my poem “Sloth” in its 2012 Fall Issue. I’ve also published poetry in The Hummingbird Review, Philadelphia Stories, Sleet, 322 Review and Danse Macabre, among other magazines. The Hummingbird Review will publish a short story I wrote about the Countess Bathory (due out this spring.) I am also a featured poet on the Sayitatyourwedding website.

What is your favorite part of the novel?

Finishing. After seven years of research and writing, I felt that I had finally crossed an endless finishing line—and I hope the book, with its historical details, larger than life characters, and tears and laughter will take the reader across the finishing line as well.

Thank you, Kathryn, and best of luck with Little Velásquez.

For a chance to win a copy of Kathryn's novel - leave a comment on this post and look out for the announcement of the winner

Find Kathryn Kopple on Facebook and Twitter.

Little Velásquez is available now on Amazon and similar vendors.

Guest Post - Cathy Mansell

noreply@blogger.com (Anita Davison) — Mon, 04 Mar 2013 17:24:00 +0000

I would like to welcome to my blog today, Cathy Mansell, whose

debut novel is published by Tirgearr Publishing

Author Biography

Cathy is an experienced writer of romantic fiction. Her early work was competition short stories and articles published in national magazines. She was Editor in Chief of the Leicestershire Anthology, ‘Taking Off’, a book promoted and supported by Arts Council UK.

In recent times, Cathy has turned to writing full-length novels that are set in Ireland/England and America in the 1950/60. Her debut novel Shadow Across the Liffey is published with Tirgearr Publishing weaves her affinity with Dublin and Leicester.

Having lived her childhood years in Ireland all of her work has that touch of authenticity. They depict the lifestyle and hardship of Irish families in those days, with the passions and emotions of her characters, who are wound up in intricate criminal plots, mixed with illegitimacy and the desperate and tragic loneliness of widowhood contrasting with the happiness when love comes calling once more.

Readers of Cathy’s novels are transported to a distant time, with page turning tension, having tears and laughter in equal measure.

All of this is borne out of Cathy’s own early experience of widowhood, alongside the trials of bringing up a family as a lone parent in the 70’s. In addition, finding love again with Dennis, her husband and most ardent supporter.

Nowadays, Cathy lives in rural Leicestershire where she writes daily in her ‘Loft Study’ overlooking fields and trees.

Blurb
SHADOW ACROSS THE LIFFEY
Romantic Suspense
Set in 60’s Ireland life is hard for widow, Oona Quinn, grief-stricken by the tragic deaths of her husband and five-year-old daughter. Struggling to survive, she meets charismatic Jack Walsh at the Shipping Office.

Vinnie Kelly, her son's biological father, just out of jail, sets out to destroy Oona and all she holds dear. Haunted by her past, she has to fight for her future and the safety of her son, Sean. But Vinnie has revenge on his mind . . .

Excerpt

The sun had just come out, and McNally cursed the task ahead of him. The child’s death had touched him deeply. At the station, he had seen tears in grown men’s eyes. This was, by far, the hardest thing he had ever had to do.
He parked the car outside the house with the shiny green door and well-maintained garden, and walked slowly up the path. He hesitated. From inside he heard laughter and music, and it pained him to be the bearer of such shocking news. A lump formed in his throat. He removed his hat and held it in front of him, before knocking on the door.
‘Mrs Quinn?’
Oona stared at the uniformed man on her doorstep. ‘That... that’s me.’ She clutched the door. ‘Has, has something happened?’
‘I’m Sergeant McNally. There’s been an accident. May I come in?’
Connie joined her in the hall, the smile slipping from her face.
‘Are you a relative?’ he asked.
‘We’re sisters. What is it?’
He thought Oona was going to faint but her sister’s hand guided her towards the living room. A moment later, the two women sat on the sofa clutching hands.
‘May I sit down?’
Oona nodded. She was trembling. McNally could see a glimmer of hope in her big brown eyes.
‘I’m afraid your husband’s been in a serious accident, Mrs Quinn.’ He saw all her fears encapsulated in that one terrible moment as he delivered the news.
‘Please, tell me he’s not dead.’
He swallowed, barely able to answer, and then he nodded.
‘No. No. Please don’t tell me that. Dear God! Eamon can’t be dead. You’ve made some mistake. Are... are you... sure it’s my husband?’
‘We found his driving licence.’ He gripped his hat. How could he tell her about the little girl?
‘My little girl! What about Jacqueline?’ she cried out. ‘Where is she? She’ll be frightened. I must go to her.’
‘I’m afraid there was nothing we could do, Mrs Quinn. It all happened so fast.’
‘God! No! Not my little girl! Not Jacqueline!’ She was shaking hysterically. ‘Connie! Tell him; tell the Sergeant he’s got it wrong. Please, Connie.’
‘They’re not, not both of them,’ Connie pleaded, her face distraught.
‘Everything that could possibly be done was done at the scene. A drunk driver coming off the boat caused the crash. He’s dead, too. I’m afraid I was a witness. I’ve spoken to a number of other eye witnesses who saw the white van veering erratically before hitting your husband’s car.’ He swallowed again. ‘There was nothing your husband could have done, Mrs Quinn. I’m so sorry. If it’s any consolation at all, they were both killed instantly.’
‘God Almighty! No! No!’ Oona rocked back and forth. Her breath was coming in huge spasmodic lurches as if her chest was about to explode. He had seen people grieving before, but to lose a child... He wished this was all a dream and that he hadn’t been a witness. He sat with his head bowed, turning his hat round and round in his hands.
Oona stood up, shaking uncontrollably. Before he could do anything, she collapsed onto the floor.

Cathy's Website
Cathy's Blog

Cathy's Novel is being offered for 99p until 9th March

Guest Post - Margaret Evans Porter

noreply@blogger.com (Anita Davison) — Fri, 01 Mar 2013 07:00:00 +0000

I am truly honoured to welcome today's guest to my blog, Margaret Evans Porter is the author of an impressive list of Historical Romances. I had the privilege to meet her at last year's HNS Conference and she really is as lovely as her novels..

St. David’s Day and 18th Century Wales - Margaret Evans Porter

Hark, the distant village peal,

In sweet responsive sound,

Bids blythsome echo hither steal,

To cheer the hamlet round;

And hark, the sweetly tinkling rill,

And hark, on every spray,

The feather'd race the chorus fill,

To hail St David's day.

Thomas Dibdin, 1801

My novella The Love Spoon was inspired by a souvenir I purchased in North Wales craft shop years ago—now prominently featured on the ebook cover. The setting is Betws-y-coed and the story unfolds between the Welsh feasts of St Dwynwen’s Day (25 January) and St David’s Day (1st March). St Dwynwen is the Welsh equivalent of St Valentine, and on that feast love tokens were offered. St David (Dewi Sant), the patron saint of Wales, died on 1st March, 589, and for centuries this has been the date of Wales’s national celebration.

David, born in Wales of royal blood, was educated in Cardiganshire. During his ministry he made many pilgrimages and even travelled as far as Jerusalem, where he was made an archbishop. He was noted for performing miracles, his most famous occurring when he raised up the ground on which he stood so that the crowd could see him! He founded monasteries throughout Wales and in England, including the one in Pembrokeshire where he was buried—the cathedral dedicated to him is located on the site. In the past it was a popular place of pilgrimage: a single visit to St David's was equal to one pilgrimage to Rome; three visits there were the equivalent of making a pilgrimage to distant Jerusalem.

In the 17th, 18th, and 19th centuries, St David’s Day activities in London prompted mockery from the English. The wearing of a leek in the hatband led to derision, and rhymes and jokes referring to Welshmen, or Taffies, were never complimentary!

David’s personal symbol, the leek (cenhinen) became the traditional emblem. Eventually it was superseded by the daffodil, which begins its bloom in early March, and whose Welsh name Cenhinen Pedr translates as ‘Peter’s leek’—leading to confusion and over time a melding of their significance. Modern-day celebrations include parades, eisteddfodau (poetry recitations and/or choral singing). Women wear their traditional Welsh dress—tall black hat, woollen shawl, long skirt of wool. Cawl, a dish of potatoes and other root vegetables and meat (lamb, mutton, or bacon if living inland) or fish in coastal regions, is typically served.

Perhaps my Welsh ancestry is partly responsible for my affinity for Wales, and the frequency with which I return, and the romantic relationship in The Love Spoon unfolds in the places I know best. As well as relying on my own experiences, I benefitted from a wealth of primary source material.

In the late 18th century, North Wales was ‘discovered’ as a destination for tourists. Improved roadways—relatively speaking—in the remote regions allowed for easier travel than in the past. Persons crossing to Ireland via the Holyhead ferry often paused in their journey to admire Mount Snowdon’s peak, as well as nearby lakes, streams, and coast. Artists recorded the region’s dramatic landscape, and the publication of prints added to area’s reputation as a picturesque and scenic destination. Antiquarians and naturalists published accounts of their journeys, describing the natives’ quaint and foreign customs. The era’s fascination with ancient Britain—in particular Celtic history and the bardic tradition—fuelled interest in Welsh lore and legends.

As an example of the effusions inspired by the North Wales scenery, I offer a late 18th century visitor’s description of the view from Snowdon:

‘On the summit, the air was perfectly mild and serene and I could with pleasure contemplate the amazing map that was unfolded to my view…rivers, plains, woods, rocks, and mountains, six and twenty lakes, and two seas…Who could take such a survey without perceiving his spirits elevated in some proportion to the height? Who could behold so bountiful a display of nature without wonder and ecstasy?’

English tourists regarded people of the remote mountains with a certain amount of condescension Says one late 18th century visitor, ‘The people seem there to have an innocence and simplicity of character, unknown in the populous parts of our own country…A rustic bashfulness and reserve seem to be general features in the character of the Welsh people.’ He adds, ‘The women of the mountainous parts of the country are generally of a middle size, though more frequently below that than above it. Their features are often very pretty….They wear long blue cloaks that descend almost to their feet. On their legs they have blue stockings…They often employ their time in knitting.’

A 19th century female visitor also notes the women’s dress: ‘All women among the lower orders in Wales wear men’s hats over muslin caps, and a long blue cloth cloak, which gives them, at some distance, the air of ladies….Many were riding on spirited little Welsh ponies. The young women seem so constantly at work that they are seldom to be met…a stranger might almost have fancied that all the women in Wales were old.’

In writing The Love Spoon I’ve tried to depict with reasonable accuracy the lives of people during that time—young and old—as well as several Welsh customs. After a period of concentrating on biographical historical novels I very much enjoyed writing the fictional romance between Gwendolyn Pryce and Hugo Meredith, who have far more in common than they initially assume. I have no doubt that I’ll re-visit this fascinating period in Welsh history for future projects!

Author Info: Websites: http://www.margaretevansporter.com, http://www.margaretporter.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AuthorMargaretEvansPorter
Twitter: http://twitter.com/MargaretAuthor

Purchase Links:
Kindle http://bit.ly/TheLoveSpoonKindle
Nook http://bit.ly/TheLoveSpoonNook
Kobo http://bit.ly/TheLoveSpoonKobo

Guest Post - Laura Purcell

noreply@blogger.com (Anita Davison) — Fri, 15 Feb 2013 07:00:00 +0000

I am thrilled to welcome to my blog today a new and exciting author who

writes engaging novels set in the Georgian era. Laura Purcell's debut novel,

'God Save The King' is about how the wife and daughters of

King George III handled the fallout of his madness.

Book Blurb

London, 1788. The calm order of Queen Charlotte’s court is shattered by screams. Her beloved husband, England’s King, has gone mad.

Left alone with thirteen children and a country at war, Charlotte must fight to hold her husband’s throne in a time of revolutionary fever. But it is not just the guillotine that Charlotte fears: it is the King himself.

Her six daughters are desperate to escape their palace asylum. Their only chance lies in a good marriage, but no Prince wants the daughter of a madman. They are forced to take love wherever they can find it – with devastating consequences.

The moving true story of George III’s madness and the women whose lives it destroyed.

From the Review of God Save The King From The Examiner

This is Purcell's debut novel and it is an absolute success! The Georgian period has rarely been covered in historical fiction and finally someone brilliantly offers it to readers. Purcell appears to be an expert on this time period as she beautifully portrays every detail of life in England for the Royal family, the events and politics going on in the world, and gives readers a look at the many members of King George's family. Purcell puts so much thought and detail in this novel, it is flawless.

Purcell's portrayals of Queen Charlotte, Royal, and Sophia are also powerful. It is heartbreaking to read about the journey into bitterness Queen Charlotte went through after the madness of her husband. Royal's story is also moving as she is trapped in a world where she loves her father, feels frustration towards her mother, and only escapes in her marriage to more disappointment. Sophia's story is probably the most tragic. The sickly young woman discovers love, but her role as a princess and daughter of a mad king takes that all away from her. These women are a fascinating joy to read about.

Purcell plans on writing more novels on the many historical figures of the Georgian period. Purcell has given historical fiction fans another fascinating period in history to enjoy! Welcome to the genre!

Laura Purcell's Blog

Guest Post - Tara Chevrestt

noreply@blogger.com (Anita Davison) — Tue, 12 Feb 2013 06:00:00 +0000

Book Release, Kindle Freebie, & Grand Giveaway!
Love Request /Tara Chevrestt
I’m pleased to share with you my latest release, Love Request. This one is special to me because it’s not only the first romance I penned, but it features a “hearing-impaired” heroine, like myself.
I say “hearing –impaired” because really, there’s nothing wrong with Ciara. She’s not damaged or in need of repair. She just can’t hear as well as others.

As a reader, I grew tired of all the women in romance novels being perfect. In real life, many of us have disabilities—and they are disabilities others can’t see. And worse, they are disabilities others can’t understand, and a lot of times what people don’t understand becomes something they fear…and belittle.

This is where the bullying comes in. You see, this is more than just a romance novel. Open its pages, hit that Kindle “next page” button, and find out for yourself. Learn. Be enlightened. Relate.

Want to sample it first? No problem. Available on Kindle and FREE for the next five days, is a humorous Valentine short story, Mating Instinct.

You’ll find the first chapter of Love Request at the end.

Thank you, readers, for celebrating this special time with me. Happy Valentine’s Day! In honor of you, I’m giving away a print copy of Love Request, a plush dog, a lipstick for that special date, and 5 pheromone-soaked chocolate incense sticks! WARNING: Be careful if dogs are in the vicinity.

Blurb:
When Ciara Littleton finally joins Facebook to socialize without the limits her hearing impairment gives her, she looks up a childhood friend on a whim. In sending him that first message, she ignites the memories of a crush from twenty years ago. Can a simple friend request fix all that stands between them and maybe even lead to something more?

Hunter's plate is full. A recent divorce, a pregnant sister, and now, he realizes he's in love with a woman who lives states away. Can he overcome the boundaries of Internet romance to make this desire turn into something real, or will adversity and distance be their undoing?
This book was formerly titled A Facebook Affair and has been revised with a new ending.

Love Request has been named a LASR Best Book and is now up for vote on Best Book of 2012 Poll. You can cast a vote here. I’m so excited and so grateful!

Blurb for Mating Instinct:
This is exactly what you need!
It’s Valentine’s Day and when Ariel receives a package of incense in the mail from her Pagan friend and mentor, she isn’t sure what to make of the enclosed note. Sure, she has some issues, but who doesn’t?
When the smoke releases its magic, Ariel gets an evening of surprise humor and romance, and it is indeed exactly what she needs.

Links:
Love Request on Amazon
Mating Instinct FREE

Tara Chevrestt is a deaf woman, former aviation mechanic, writer, and an editor. She is most passionate about planes, motorcycles, dogs, and above all, reading. That led to her love of writing. Between her writing and her editing, which allows her to be home with her little canine kids, she believes she has the greatest job in the world. She is very happily married.

Her theme is Strong is Sexy.
She shares a website with her naughty pen name: and they have a Facebook page:

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Guest Post - Anne Gallagher

noreply@blogger.com (Anita Davison) — Fri, 08 Feb 2013 06:00:00 +0000

I have fellow author, Anne Gallagher on my blog today, who writes Regency Romance with feisty heroines and dashing heroes. Anne believes sexual tension and plain old-fashioned love can keep a reader turning the pages. Her latest release 'The Earl's Engagement' is available now.

Publisher's Blurb

Summoned from his castle in Caithness, Gregory Scott, the Earl of Bailey hurries to London, believing his dearest relation on her deathbed. When the true reason for his presence is resolved, Rory is left unoccupied in Town.

Seeking out an old acquaintance, he discovers Lord Briden nearly penniless, mentally unstable, and entirely dependent upon his spinster daughter for the care and upkeep of their estate at Primrose.

The beautiful Lady Rosamund is part hoyden, part bluestocking, part servant. Wanting nothing to do with Society, her uncommon way of life spurs Rory into offering assistance, but Rosamund adamantly refuses. When Rory learns the lecherous lord next door is blackmailing Rosamund, he devises a scheme to help her whether she wants it or not.

The idea to find Rosamund a husband goes slightly awry, as Rory doesn’t bargain for falling in love with the enigmatic Lady Rosamund. And when his plan turns up another beau for Rosamund, can Rory let her go?

Excerpt

Riding out of London, Rory sat tall in the saddle and breathed in the summer air. This outing was just what he needed. Time spent discussing books with men who were dedicated to the art of scholarly interests. Lord Briden’s company would be very welcome indeed.
He turned left onto Primrose Vale Road and rode quite a distance. Where was the house? Just there, behind a dense growth of old oak, elm, and brush, Rory saw the outline of a large manor. But how to get to it? There seemed to be no entrance.
Rory urged his mount through a thicket of overgrown ivy where he found the neglected and forgotten drive. The place looked as if it had been abandoned. A huge tree limb had fallen across the front portico, smashing one of the columns to the ground. Planks haphazardly nailed across the broken window to the left gave the appearance of a winking frown. Another limb held up the roof of the once covered entrance. He gazed again skyward, the smoke seeming to come from around back.
Nudging his mount toward the side of the house, his horse stopped suddenly at the sight of an ancient woman dressed in a young girl’s calico gown.
She hummed as she walked, oblivious to the sight of Rory on his horse. However, when she finally noticed him, her face twisted into a grotesque mask of fright and she let out a keening cry.
“Arreeee! Arreeee!” She gathered up her skirts and fled to the back of the house.
Rory followed, hoping at least to assure the old woman he meant her no harm. Certain he was in the wrong place, he only wanted to apologize and get direction to Briden’s manor.
As he rounded the corner, a servant girl in a dirty apron comforted the crone. “There now, Oona, all is well. No harm will come to you. Run inside and find a biscuit.”
His horse snorted and startled both women. The elder hid behind the younger as the girl picked up a rusty shovel. Rory noticed the hole in the ground and a beaten bush lying on its side. An old wheelbarrow filled with dirt and stone stood to the right of the hole. Had she dug that up herself?
“Who are you? What do you do here?” The young woman held a threatening pose with the spade and stood her ground.
“Forgive me,” Rory said and tipped the corner of his hat. “I was looking for the Earl of Warwickeshire’s home and I seem to be lost.”
“What do you want with him?”
The wench had a cheeky nerve demanding to know his business, but Rory knew these simple country folk looked out for each other. It was the same in Caithness when hunters crossed his land. His tenants always alerted him to their whereabouts.
“I am an acquaintance of his, lately of Scotland, now in London for a short time. I thought to look him up before I departed.”
The girl seemed to ease her grip on the implement’s handle. “What is your name?”
“Gregory Scott, Earl of Bailey.”
Rory couldn’t be sure, but he thought the girl blanched underneath the dirt smudges on her face. She placed the shovel on the pile of earth in the wheelbarrow and took the old woman’s hand as if she now needed comforting.
“His lordship is not receiving today,” she said, her chin jutting forward. “If you leave a card, I will ensure he sees it.” She took a tentative step toward his horse dragging the old woman with her.
“I would be much obliged.” Rory reached into his jacket and drew out a small square of vellum. Handing it to her, she snatched it like a pauper waiting for a loaf of bread.....
....Rory walked his mount past them and followed the small track down through the meadow. Upon entering some trees, he turned back and gazed at the house. If this was truly the Earl of Warwickshire’s home, he could only imagine what he would find when he met the Earl.

Links:

To purchase for Amazon.
To purchase for NOOK.
To purchase for Sony, Diesal, Apple, Kobo here.
To purchase for paperback
Anne's Author blog

Piedmont Writer Blog

Guest Post-Jen Black

noreply@blogger.com (Anita Davison) — Sun, 03 Feb 2013 07:00:00 +0000

I have fellow author, Jen Black on my blog today, who writes in a variety of genres, from Sixteenth Century Northumberland adventure to Victorian Romance. Her latest release is entitled 'Victorian Beauty', a romance with a dash of mystery that will keep you reading to the end.

Damaged physically and sexually, Melanie the Dowager Duchess of Yaxley escapes from an abusive son in law to become a housekeeper in a remote Northumbrian village. The Master of the house, Jarrow, is a widower with a delightful daughter, but few funds. Jarrow has his scars, but he also has a secret life that unnerves Melanie when she discovers what it is that occupies his nights. This historical romance with its great sense of time and setting, leads the reader through the clash of the scarred personalities, troubles with excise men to a resolution which surprises them both. Slowly Melanie realizes that Jarrow might just be the man who can make her believe in second chances.

“Fascinating and beautifully created characters, plenty of secrets, and a compelling love story between a hero and a heroine that tugs at your heart strings, makes this a must read.”

Excerpt 1

‘Gavington House, Miss.’
The coachman, no doubt anxious to reach his journey’s end before dark, was briskly polite as he drew the coach to a halt on the road between Corbridge and Morpeth. Descending unaided and with some difficulty, given her hooped skirt, she saw he had deposited her bag beside the imposing stone pillars of an open gateway. He tipped his hat to her and sprang back up to his perch with a cry to his horses. She watched the coach roll along the lane, and waved away the cloud of dust and grit that flew up behind the large wheels.
Green hedgerows divided greener fields, and there was not a dwelling in sight. Looking around, Melanie shivered. The snarling griffins with claws dug into the top of the stone gateposts added to her feeling of unease. Stepping closer, she realised the griffins protected a date incised into the stone beneath them: 1524. Gavington House had stood here for three hundred and forty years.

A little unnerved by such a span of time, Melanie stooped, gripped the handles of her portmanteau and marched between the gate posts with a determined stride. The gates had been opened and then abandoned some time ago, for tall weeds grew on both sides of them. Odd, she thought, as she walked along the weedy gravel drive that led through a shadowy clump of pine trees. Though she had packed only the necessities and a fresh gown for tomorrow’s interview, her leather bag was heavy and the gravel drive did not make for easy walking. Full of shallow gradients and curves, it wound through the trees in a most annoying way. Now and then, through gaps in the foliage, she caught sight of what must be Gavington House.

Had she been in the comfort of a sprung carriage, she would have found the approach charming and no doubt been delighted with each pretty vista as it appeared. But after twenty minutes of energetic walking, Melanie hesitated. The drive was about to take one of its unnecessary bends away from the house, which was plainly visible two hundred yards away in the opposite direction.

With a frustrated sigh, Melanie gripped her bag firmly, brushed through the low hanging branches and strode out across the lawn. If she were shot for it, she would not follow that drive an instant longer. Hurrying across the open stretch of recently scythed grass, she glanced over her shoulder, half expecting an irate gardener or gamekeeper to chase her off the hallowed turf.

Jen's Blog

Guest Post-Gemi Sasson

noreply@blogger.com (Anita Davison) — Fri, 01 Feb 2013 06:00:00 +0000

Being an avid fan of Gemi Sasson, who writes beautiful Medieval Biographies of some of the most outstanding characters from England and Scotland's past, now she is venturing into the ancient lands of Wales and their charismatic leader.

I cannot wait to read this one - and here is a preview.

UNEASY LIES THE CROWN

A Novel of Owain Glyndwr

For centuries, the bards have sung of King Arthur’s return,
but is this reluctant warrior prince the answer to those prophecies?

In the year 1399, Welsh nobleman Owain Glyndwr is living out a peaceful gentleman’s life in the Dee Valley of Wales with his wife Margaret and their eleven children. But when Henry of Bolingbroke, the Duke of Lancaster, usurps the throne of England from his cousin Richard II, that tranquility is forever shattered. What starts as a feud with a neighboring English lord over a strip of land evolves into something greater—a fight for the very independence of Wales.

Leading his crude army of Welshmen against armor-clad columns of English, Owain wins key victories over his enemies. After a harrowing encounter on the misty slopes of Cadair Idris, the English knight Harry Hotspur offers Owain a pact he cannot resist.

Peace, however, comes with a price. As tragedies mount, Owain questions whether he can find the strength within himself not only to challenge the most powerful monarch of his time, but to fulfill the prophecies and lead his people to freedom without destroying those around him.

Gemini’s Website

Gemini’s Blog, My Dog Ate My Manuscript

Royalist Rebel Release Day!

noreply@blogger.com (Anita Davison) — Thu, 31 Jan 2013 08:00:00 +0000

Apologies for the alliteration, but after all the anticipation, edits and proofreading, it's finally time to launch my 17th Century novel onto the world.

If you visit Ham House, the Jacobite mansion near Richmond, the guides talk thus about its 17^th Century owner. That she was irascible, embittered widow stripped of her glory and reduced to genteel poverty in her beloved childhood home. They run ghost evenings at Ham, telling of sightings of the old lady’s spirit that roams the mansion, tapping the floors with her stick, her small dog at her side while the scent of attar of roses permeates her favourite rooms announcing her presence.

In the gallery is the above portrait of Elizabeth, painted by Sir Peter Lely in her youth, a beautiful, intelligent and passionate young girl on the threshold of womanhood who was dedicated to Ham House, the Royalist cause and the men in her life; her father William Murray, son of a minister who rose to become King Charles’ friend and confidant, Lionel Tollemache, her husband of twenty years who adored her, Oliver Cromwell who was fascinated by her, and her second husband, John Maitland, Duke of Lauderdale, Charles II’s favourite on whom he heaped honours and riches, only to ostracise him after a bitter quarrel.

Royalist Rebel is the story of that girl.

The owners of the blogs listed in the post below have been kind enough to join me in this event - click on the links to see some amazing book blogs.

Published by Claymore Press, an imprint of Pen and Sword
For a little background on the novel, see Book Blog

The National Trust Website of Elizabeth Murray’s former home, Ham House, at Petersham near Richmond, Surrey

Royalist Rebel Blog Tour

noreply@blogger.com (Anita Davison) — Tue, 01 Jan 2013 06:00:00 +0000

ROYALIST REBEL BLOG TOUR

Visits the following blogs for information on my latest release,
scheduled for 31st January 2013

1^st January - Maggi Andersen

3^rd January - Pilling's Writing Corner

5^th January - Royalty Free Fiction

6^th January - English Fiction Authors

7^th January - Laura Purcell

8^th January - India Drummond

9^th January - My Dog Ate My Manuscript

11^th January - Camelot and Other Stuff

12^th January - Pasadena Daily Photo

13^th January – The Brooklyn Scribbler

14^th January – Periodic Pearls

15^th January - Tara Chevrestt

18^th January - Ginger Simpson – Dishin’ It Out

19^th January - Jen Black

20^th January - Historical Fiction Excerpts

21^st January – The Riddle of Writing

22^nd January - Ms Stuart Requests

23^rd January - Great Historicals

24^th January - History and Women

27^th January - Hoydens and Firebrands

29^th January - Whims and Tonic

Leave a comment at the end of this post for a chance to win a

paperback copy of Royalist Rebel [after publication]

Or order here

On Royalist Rebel by author Gillian Bagwell:

Royalist Rebel brings to vivid life the perilous days of the English Civil Wars, when the families who had been the most loyal to the crown had the most to fear. Elizabeth Dysart is an engaging heroine, and our blood thrills with hers as she looks danger in the eye and meets every challenge with courage. Anita Seymour skillfully recounts one of the most tumultuous periods in Britain’s history, and her novel is a great addition to the heartbreaking story of those times.

Gillian Bagwell, author of The Darling Strumpet, The King’s Mistress (U.S. title The September Queen) and Venus in Winter.

Guest Post - David Pilling

noreply@blogger.com (Anita Davison) — Fri, 21 Dec 2012 08:00:00 +0000

I have a guest post on my blog today to appeal to all those Medieval enthusiasts – and I know there are lots of you. David Pilling co-writes with Martin Bolton and their latest novel, ‘The White Hawk’ is set in England, 1459 during the Wars of The Roses.

A Bolton, a Bolton! The White Hawk!

"A Bolton, a Bolton! The White Hawk! God for Lancaster and Saint George!"

England, 1459: the kingdom stands divided and on the brink of civil war. The factions of Lancaster and York vie for control of the King, while their armies stand poised, ready to tear each other to pieces.

The White Hawk follows the fortunes of a family of Lancastrian loyalists, the Boltons, as they attempt to survive and prosper in this world of brutal warfare and shifting alliances. Surrounded by enemies, their loyalties will be tested to the limit in a series of bloody battles and savage twists of fate.

This period, with its murderous dynastic feuding between the rival Houses of York and Lancaster, is perhaps the most fascinating of the entire medieval period in England. Having lost the Hundred Years War, the English nobility turned on each other in a bitter struggle for the crown, resulting in a spate of beheadings, battles, murders and Gangland-style politics that lasted some thirty years.

Apart from the savage doings of aristocrats, the wars affected people on the lower rungs of society. One minor gentry family in particular, the Pastons of Norfolk, suffered greatly in their attempts to survive and thrive in the feral environment of the late 15th century. They left an invaluable chronicle in their archive of family correspondence, the famous Paston Letters.

The letters provide us with a snapshot of the trials endured by middle-ranking families like the Pastons, and of the measures they took to defend their property from greedy neighbours. One such extract is a frantic plea from the matriarch of the clan, Margaret Paston, begging her son John to return from London:

"I greet you well, letting you know that your brother and his fellowship stand in great jeopardy at Caister... Daubney and Berney are dead and others badly hurt, and gunpowder and arrows are lacking. The place is badly broken down by the guns of the other party, so that unless they have hasty help, they are likely to lose both their lives and the place, which will be the greatest rebuke to you that ever came to any gentleman. For every man in this country marvels greatly that you suffer them to be for so long in great jeopardy without help or other remedy..."

The Paston Letters, together with my general fascination for the era, were the inspiration for The White Hawk. Planned as a series of three novels, TWH will follow the fortunes of a fictional Staffordshire family, the Boltons, from the beginning to the very end of The Wars of the Roses. Unquenchably loyal to the House of Lancaster, their loyalty will have dire consequences for them as law and order breaks down and the kingdom slides into civil war. The ‘white hawk’ of the title is the sigil of the Boltons, and will fly over many a blood-stained battlefield.

   In the following excerpt, Mary Bolton is forced to defend the family home against a private army:
“Someone screamed outside. Tanner ran to drop the heavy bar across the door, but was too slow, and a big soldier wearing the silver star of Ramage on his chest burst in. His face was streaked with gore and dust, and the sword in his hand wet with blood.

     Tanner, the poor fool, grabbed a pole-axe from a rack and threw himself at the soldier, who side-stepped and plunged his sword into the steward’s swollen guts. Tanner fell, squealing like a stuck pig as his entrails slid out of the great hole in his belly.

     By now I had got the match lit, and lifted the gun to sight carefully along the barrel, as Hodson had taught me. I pulled the trigger, there was a bang and a flash, a terrible stink of burning powder in my nostrils, the gun jerked in my hands, and the shot flew straight and true and hit the soldier on the temple, cracking his skull and taking off the top of his head. His face wore a surprised expression as he flew backwards, almost into the arms of his mates who piled through the door in his wake.

     Martin uttered a shrill yell, drew his little knife and ran at the dying man to stab at him as he lay twitching on the flagstones. One of the soldiers caught the boy’s wrist and picked him up by his neck.

     “I’ve caught a rabbit, lads!” he brayed. “Shall we skin and eat him, or sell him at Lichfield market?”

     The idiot paid me no heed, which was his undoing as I rushed at him, wielding my gun like a club, and smote him across the jaw with the butt. He fell away, spitting blood and teeth, and dropped Martin to the floor. I took my brother’s hand and turned to flee, God knows where, but strong arms seized and held me fast…”

If all this whets your appetite, do check out the paperback and Kindle versions of Book One below...

Paperback Version - Website - Blog

Christmas is Here

noreply@blogger.com (Anita Davison) — Sat, 15 Dec 2012 16:11:00 +0000

The 65th Tree *

Since I was a child, going to Trafalgar Square to see the Christmas Tree, was always a highlight of Christmas. I am looking forward to seeing it again this year, an event which epitomises the season for me.

In 1940, when the Germans overran Norway, its King, Haakon VII, fled to Britain. While in exile in London, Haakon set up a government and planned his return to Norway once the war was over. He presented the first Christmas tree two days before Christmas in 1947 and promised one would be sent every year thereafter in gratitude for what England did for Norway between 1940-1945.

The First Tree in 1947

The tree arrives on or around the 6th December and is decorated in Norwegian style with 500 white lights.

Among the facts I didn't know, is that the tree is over 21 metres high and between115 and 120 years old when it is selected and felled from a forest outside Oslo, and takes five days to travel the 700 miles by boat to London.

This year, Oslo is also sending Norwegian spruces to Rotterdam and Reykjavik, and are all decorated with 500 individual white lights.

*Copyright Photograph Christine Matthews

Book News

noreply@blogger.com (Anita Davison) — Mon, 03 Dec 2012 11:31:00 +0000

Just doing a little bragging this Monday morning.

After all the editing, proofing, which is still going on by the way, cover art tweaking and frantically checking facts to see I have got it right, 'Royalist Rebel', my 17th Century biographical novel about Elizabeth Murray is available for pre-order on WH Smiths and Waterstones - the latter has included a countdown of 45 days to publication!

Release day is scheduled for January 17th 2013 - so I had better get back to reading the final set of proofs. It's almost like Christmas!

Postcript - And today, [Wednesday] I am now on the Claymore Books Website too!

The Pain of Publishing

noreply@blogger.com (Anita Davison) — Sun, 25 Nov 2012 13:04:00 +0000

A sobering thought, and not one immediately apparent to those who wish to write. Had I known in advance how fraught with obstacles, discouragemet and plain indifference the world of publishing is, I may not have begun either. I'm almost there with my latest novel, though it still has to run the final panel of judges - the readers! So when does this 'pain' end - or doesn't it?

Here is an interesting observation on literary agent Rachel Gardner's blog by an author who understands fully the drawbacks, high points and depressing lows of publishing a novel.

If you love the work of writing and sharing your work with others, the pain can’t stop you. Nevertheless, the pain is coming, and you need to be ready for it: Ed Cyewski

Heavy stuff, but goes right to the point, and having been reminded, the main aim of this post is to thank someone who has supported me through that same painful process - my agent, Kate Nash, for her unfailing confidence in my work, when even I was willing to shelve the manuscript and start something else. She told me 'not to be daft' [quote] and don't forget to keep writing. I should listen to her more.

Happy Thanksgiving

noreply@blogger.com (Anita Davison) — Thu, 22 Nov 2012 09:44:00 +0000

May the good things of life
be yours in abundance
not only at Thanksgiving
but throughout the coming year

A Happy Thanksgiving to all my American friends and their families.

Amazon’s Disappearing Book Reviews

noreply@blogger.com (Anita Davison) — Wed, 14 Nov 2012 13:21:00 +0000

Reviews are being removed by Amazon, who have altered their guidelines to exclude: Sentiments by or on behalf of a person or company with a financial interest in the product or a directly competing product (including reviews by publishers, manufacturers, or third-party merchants selling the product)

Apparently 'persons of interest' includes authors.

Don’t authors read? And do all authors personally know every other author –is that likely? Of course not, so why are authors excluded from giving reviews?

A review I posted for ‘The Queen’s Secret’ a book by Victoria Lamb I posted in early October has been removed. I bought this book at a writer’s conference, and the only ‘reward’ I got was the author signed it for me. I enjoyed the book so wrote a review, which appeared on the site – and now it has gone.

The only reward I have ever recieved for a review is a free copy of the book, often an ‘unedited’ version with a plain cover. I have been asked to review books by readers of the Historical Novel Review Blog, and Romantic Historical Lovers Review Blog, but these I have done for free, and voluntarily and if I didn’t like the book or felt I couldn’t offer an unbiased, positive comment – I declined.

I understand why Amazon want to stop fake reviews, or prevent family and friends posting five star reviews, but it's well known that the ‘Big 6’ actually hire reviewers, which may explain why certain bestselling authors will have 50, 5 star reviews on the day their latest novel is released.

For authors like myself, this could be disastrous as some book sites won’t advertise your book without a certain number of 4-5 star reviews. Also, if reviews can only be made on books bought online from Amazon, what about books given to you as a gift, or borrowed from a library? Why would it not be acceptable to post a review?

So as an author, does this mean I can never post a book review unless I purchase them online at Amazon, and even then they may be removed as I have 'an interest'?

Here are a couple of blogs who discuss this - read them for yourself and see what you think:
To Become a Writer
Blogging Authors