New Release from Annie Whitehead Coming Soon!

 

The Sins of the Father (Release date Sep 15th, on pre-order now)

A father’s legacy can be a blessing or a curse...

AD658: The sons of Penda of Mercia have come of age. Ethelred, the youngest, recalls little of past wars while Wulf is determined to emulate their father, whose quest to avenge his betrayed kinswomen drew him to battle three successive Northumbrian kings.

Ecgfrith of Northumbria is more hostile towards the Mercians than his father was. His sister Ositha, thwarted in her marriage plans, seeks to make her mark in other ways, but can she, when called upon, do her brother’s murderous bidding?

Ethelred finds love with a woman who is not involved in the feud, but fate intervenes.

 Wulf’s actions against Northumbria mean Ethelred must choose duty over love, until he, like his father before him, has cause to avenge the women closest to him. Battle must once more be joined, but the price of victory will be high.

Can Ethelred stay true to his father’s values, end the feud, keep Mercia free, and find the path back to love?

This is the second of the two-book series, Tale of the Iclingas, which began with Cometh the Hour, but can be read as a standalone. 

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Book One - Cometh the Hour is on 99p Promotion. You can pick up a copy here: mybook.to/ComeththeHour

 "An excellent historical tale, told with energy, enthusiasm, and a love of the period. I will be back for more."

The next stop on Anna Belfrage's Coffee Pot Book Club Blog Tour!

 

Book Title: The Whirlpools of Time

Author: Anna Belfrage

Publication Date: 11th June 2021

Publisher: Timelight Press

Page Length: 388 Pages

Genre: Time travel romance, Scottish Historical Romance

The Whirlpools of Time

By Anna Belfrage

He hoped for a wife. He found a companion through time and beyond.

It is 1715 and for Duncan Melville something fundamental is missing from his life. Despite a flourishing legal practice and several close friends, he is lonely, even more so after the recent death of his father. He needs a wife—a companion through life, someone to hold and be held by. What he wasn’t expecting was to be torn away from everything he knew and find said woman in 2016…

Erin Barnes has a lot of stuff going on in her life. She doesn’t need the additional twist of a stranger in weird outdated clothes, but when he risks his life to save hers, she feels obligated to return the favour. Besides, whoever Duncan may be, she can’t exactly deny the immediate attraction.

The complications in Erin’s life explode. Events are set in motion and to Erin’s horror she and Duncan are thrown back to 1715. Not only does Erin have to cope with a different and intimidating world, soon enough she and Duncan are embroiled in a dangerous quest for Duncan’s uncle, a quest that may very well cost them their lives as they travel through a Scotland poised on the brink of rebellion.  

Will they find Duncan’s uncle in time? And is the door to the future permanently closed, or will Erin find a way back?

Trigger Warnings: Sexual Content. Violence.

***

Whirlpool: In which Duncan ends up holding magic in his hands

Her fear was contagious. Erin might scoff and tell him she had things handled, but over the coming days he’d catch her glancing out the window every other minute and the way she hugged herself when he said something about that accursed Steve Wilkes had him wishing he’d run him through with his sword the first time he’d met the unsavoury character.

She refused to talk about it, insisting they were safe here, in her home because they’d never be able to sneak up on them. 

“They do not need to sneak,” he’d said. “It is not exactly an impenetrable fortress this, is it?”

Which is when she’d proudly shown him something she called the panic room. Aye, this cramped dark space did have him breaking out in something akin to panic, even more so when she explained it was sufficiently stocked with water and foodstuffs to last a couple of days. 

“In the dark?” He detested dark and cramped places. 

“Not entirely,” she said, “but yeah, it won’t exactly be brightly lit.” 

Not much of a comfort, but he nodded all the same while thinking he would rather die out in the sunlight than end up buried alive in here.

“There’s a secure phone line,” she told him. “If we’re in here, I can call the cops.”

That made him feel much better. But still, hours in a space which had room for a narrow pallet bed and not much else was something best avoided. There was a small box tucked into a corner. “What’s that?” 

“That’s where I keep the locket.” She slid him a look. “I prefer to keep it in here, in that metal box.”

“To keep it safe,” he assumed.

“Yeah. And because…”

“Because what?”

“It weirds me out.” She laughed shakily. “Silly, right? Emily always said it was the power contained within that I reacted to, but that is just stupid.”

“Can I see it?” he asked, while concluding that weirding someone out was to make them singularly uneasy.

Reluctantly, she nodded. “Be my guest. I’ll just stay here, okay?” 

With Erin hovering at the door, he lifted the lid an inch before slamming it back down. “It hums!”

“I know.” 

Intrigued, Duncan opened the box. Inside, was a round, wooden container of sorts, badly charred but sufficiently undamaged to reveal the remains of exquisite woodworking, a pattern of leaves encircling what looked like a huge thistle. Whoever had made this little box had been a true artist, he thought, lifting it up carefully. A soft, soothing humming filled the room, caressed his ears. Like a lullaby, he thought, a comforting sound that had him recalling nights as a small child, with Simon reading to him by the light of a flickering candle. 

Inside the box was a golden object, resting on plush, red velvet. The size of an egg, it was a beautiful piece of work, the detailed engravings studded with little rubies and diamonds. Even in the weak light, the stones glittered and twinkled, and the humming urged him to pick it up, hold it. When he did, the humming increased in strength, a hypnotic request that he open it, open it and look deep within. 

He fumbled with the clasp.

“Duncan, no!” Erin said, but it was too late, the locket lay open in his hand, and the interior was as beautiful as the exterior—except that now he was looking at a beautifully executed piece of art, a whirlwind of blues and green and right in its midst a beckoning point of white. The humming became a roaring command. “Look,” it said, “look deep and fall!” His heart cramped. No, no, no, his brain wailed, and he gritted his teeth with the effort of attempting to close his eyes and break the connection with the magical swirls that seemed to grow out of the locket to dance around him in thin bands of green and blue. 

“Duncan!” Erin shrieked, and next he knew she’d knocked the locket out of his hand, sending it spinning to rest in a corner.

He collapsed, breathing heavily. His pulse thundered through his head, and he was covered in a sheen of cold sweat. He’d recognised those swirls of colour and the fear they’d induced, knew exactly when he’d seen them last. 

“Duncan?” She sounded on the verge of tears. “You okay?”

“Yes,” he croaked. 

“You began to blur around the edges,” she said with a groan. “What is that thing?” She was in his arms, pressing her face to his shirt. “Maybe I should just give it to that cow Josephine and watch her go all invisible.”

“That is a powerful object,” he managed to say. “And in the hands of a ruthless person likely quite dangerous.” He licked his lips. A portal, of sorts, he thought. Someone had captured the terrifying funnel he’d fallen through in enamelled paint. Bile filled his mouth. To fall again…The fear, the pain, the unbearable noise and at the end of it all to land in a new unfamiliar place. “Dearest Lord, keep me safe,” he prayed in an undertone, before gently disengaging himself from Erin. “I need to get out of here.”

From the corner came a faint humming. He hurried them both out of the room and Erin slammed the door shut before sliding the wall panel that hid it back into place.

Available on #KindleUnlimited.

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

Anna has also published The Wanderer, a fast-paced contemporary romantic suspense trilogy with paranormal and time-slip ingredients. Her September 2020 release, His Castilian Hawk, has her returning to medieval times. Set against the complications of Edward I’s invasion of Wales, His Castilian Hawk is a story of loyalty, integrity—and love. Her most recent release, The Whirlpools of Time, is a time travel romance set against the backdrop of brewing rebellion in the Scottish highlands.

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

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

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~The Coffee Pot Book Club presents Wall of Stone by Heather Robinson

 

Book Title: Wall of Stone

Author: Heather Robinson

Publication Date: 23rd August 2014

Publisher: Independently Published

Page Length: 366 Pages

Genre: Historical Fiction

Follow Heather's tour here

 

Wall of Stone 

By Heather Robinson

In AD121 the Twentieth Legion of Rome stands at the northern frontier of Britannia. Forgotten, neglected and dour in spirit, they must still do their duty for an Empire whose meaning is becoming lost to them.

As the lives of the local Teviot family intertwine with the legion, relationships of love and bitter anguish unfurl. Will the invading army push north? Will the disputing native tribes unite in an uprising? Can Marcus be with Jolinda?

When peace is fragile, friendships count for everything...

An excerpt from Wall of Stone

Jolinda knew the argument would not be resolved. Her mother’s views would not change. She was simply strangled by a gripping fog of grief over the matter.

“But we must trade with the Romans,” Jolinda implored. She was speaking in her native Bryothonic tongue, a Celtic language evolved from the Welsh. This was the only language her mother knew, although Jolinda could also converse in the Roman tongue. Her father had arranged for a menthor to tutor her – with great foresight, she realised. “We need their Roman coins to purchase grain and fodder from the southern people who’ve turned to their ways. We can’t grow enough on our northern hills to survive. We’ve always traded with our southern neighbours, the only difference is now we must use their new trading methods, coins not barter. And to get the coins we must first trade with the Romans. It’s just an extra step that’s all. Ma, can’t ya see we don’t have a choice? The animals will starve, we’ll starve. We must trade with them.”

“I won’t let ya father’s memory be tarnished. I will not. He’s been in his grave one moon is all and ya want to forsake him. No, Jolinda, no, he died by their hand.” Her voice rose with exasperation as she spoke the words. How could her daughter even consider the idea? “We’re the fourth generation of Teviots to live freely off this land and we’ll not be forced to succumb to anyone. D’ya hear me? I would rather rot slowly with a foetid wound of maggots than trade with the Roma…” the word died in a trembling choke of misery. Jolinda felt the burden like a hundredweight sack across her shoulders. She went to her mother’s side and gently rubbed her back. Giving comfort to the older woman who was failing in her attempt to stop the tears, brushing them away with the back of her hand as she continued to pound the grain in the large wooden bowl, polished smooth over the years from grinding. Jolinda spoke softly.

“It’ll be all right Ma, I’ll make it all right. Tamsin can take over some of my chores to help ya run the housestead. I’ll farm the land like Da used to. I’ve heard of a new piece of equipment that can be dragged along by oxen to turn the soil. If we can get one maybe we could sow more wheat and barley. The boys can help me. Kye’s pretty good at wielding a sickle these days and young Aaron’s old enough to sow and harvest. It’ll be all right.” Even as she was speaking, Jolinda knew the task was too great. As strong and independent as her father had been, he’d always bartered with the southern folk for extra fodder and grain. It had been easier before the south had romanized. Sometimes he’d exchange goods for meat over the winter months when the hunting was poor. The winters were harsh in these northern crags. Her father had often laughingly said the piercing wind alone was enough to send even a woolly mammoth to find a burrow. A lazy wind he’d called it – goes through ya ‘stead of round ya! 

Her heart lifted a little as she remembered his rugged smile and gruff words. A solid exterior had covered a melting heart. Providing for and protecting his family had been his life. He’d found the challenges of the wild countryside fulfilling and the love of his woman satisfying. Energy exuded from every pore, creating an aura of optimism that breathed through the family. Jolinda, his eldest, had a similar trait. A smaller sheaf of energy but her presence always pervaded a room as she entered. She knew clearly, more clearly than she’d known anything before, that she would have to defy her mother’s wishes and trade with the Romans for their coins. With or without her family’s understanding she would do so, or they simply would not survive. 

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This book is available on #KindleUnlimited.

Heather Robinson is a novelist and short story award winner from Wiltshire, UK.  Her academic background includes a Bachelor of Science degree with most of her working life spent as an Administration Manager locally.  She is also a qualified and experienced radio presenter, hosting a weekly show for Warminster Community Radio.  Proud parents of two boys, Heather and her husband Graham share a passion for live music, hiking and motorcycling. 

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The Coffee Pot Book Club Blog Tour continues with The Queen’s Spy by Clare Marchant

Book Title: The Queen’s Spy

Author: Clare Marchant

Publication Date: 8th July 2021 

Publisher: Avon

Page Length: 400 Pages

Genre: Historical Dual Timeline

Follow the Tour!

The Queen’s Spy 

By Clare Marchant

1584: Elizabeth I rules England. But a dangerous plot is brewing in court, and Mary Queen of Scots will stop at nothing to take her cousin’s throne.

There’s only one thing standing in her way: Tom, the queen’s trusted apothecary, who makes the perfect silent spy…

2021: Travelling the globe in her campervan, Mathilde has never belonged anywhere. So when she receives news of an inheritance, she is shocked to discover she has a family in England.

Just like Mathilde, the medieval hall she inherits conceals secrets, and she quickly makes a haunting discovery. Can she unravel the truth about what happened there all those years ago? And will she finally find a place to call home?

Read an excerpt

January 1584 

All around him crowds of people, men, women and children pushed each other as they disembarked, standing on the quayside looking around in confusion, as if shocked they were finally back on dry land. The air was full of the smell of the sea, now so familiar to him he could taste it lodged in the back of his throat; sharp salt together with the harsh tang of the fish he was so sick of eating, mingling with the reek of sweaty unwashed bodies he barely noticed now. After two days on the boat his legs felt shaky, and although he was on dry land, he could feel himself still swaying slightly. A small boy beside him clutched a cage containing two small yellow birds flitting back and forth. He smiled and winked at the child who grinned back. Everyone seemed delighted to have arrived, even though thankfully it had been a smooth and easy crossing. Above him huge white cliffs soared away to a pale, cold unwelcoming sky. Tom questioned his belief that this journey would help him finally find everything he’d been searching for. 

A large hand slapped him on his back, and turning he was pleased to see his shipmate William. They’d become friends on the crossing when both men realised they were carrying similar luggage containing plants and bulbs. Despite Tom having been both deaf and mute since birth, the two men managed to communicate with rudimentary hand signals combined with Tom’s lip reading and writing some words on a wax tablet Tom had brought with him. A piece of smooth ivory overlaid with many layers of wax meant that he could scratch words in it then rub them over afterwards to use again. It was easier than forever searching for scraps of parchment. He’d needed to learn how to convey and share information from a young age, and his adoptive mother had taught him as they worked together in the stillroom where they created potions and medications from herbs and other plants. Now he understood most words and was never taken for a fool. William enjoyed the fact Tom couldn’t engage him in idle mindless chatter, and they’d sat together on the deck for hours watching the wheeling, ever-present gulls in companionable silence. He indicated to Tom to pick up his baggage and follow, and together on unsteady legs they made their way off the quay.

 They’d barely walked a few yards when Tom felt a pull on his arm and turning, he was face to face with one of the port guards. The man was speaking to him and Tom watched his lips in silence hoping to catch an occasional word he understood, to guess the gist of what was being said, but he was at a loss. His English was poor despite it being his mother tongue; he hadn’t used it for many years and this, combined with the fact that the man was talking rapidly, resulted in him being very confused. The wafts of foul, sour breath together with the man’s blackened teeth made him wince and take a step back. The hand on his arm gripped tighter so it was pinching his skin. Tom had no way of hearing him although he could tell from the man’s red face and the way the drool was flying from his mouth that he wasn’t happy with the lack of response. Tom was used to it. He attempted to start his normal hand signals to indicate his deaf and mute status, but it wasn’t easy with one arm held fast. 

Suddenly the man’s head whipped around behind him as over his shoulder Tom could see a fight break out beside the ship they’d just disembarked from, and then the guard was gone, running towards the affray. Tom wasn’t going to miss the opportunity to make himself scarce and hefting his sack of belongings higher onto his back he turned and hurried after William towards the road to London. His lack of hearing and speech made him more noticeable despite his desire to blend into the background and he was used to being apprehended everywhere he went. Suspicion and mistrust were the same in every language. 

The sack containing his belongings was heavy and his precious triptych, a painting in three separate parts crudely hinged together to appear as one when it was opened out, dug into his shoulder with its sharp corners, but Tom didn’t mind. He was pleased to be back in England, the place where he’d been born over forty years previously. His recollections of living here were hazy now, having been taken by his adoptive mother to France when he was still a young boy, just hours before they were hounded from their home by His Majesty’s men. After his father – the only father he could remember – had been murdered by the King. Killed for no reason other than having worked alongside a secretary by the name of Francis Dereham who’d been convicted of committing adultery with Queen Catherine, the King’s fifth wife. Dereham had been executed and his innocent father had died whilst being tortured for information he didn’t have. His adoptive mother had kept their memories alive though, in her drawings, her sign language and the saffron she grew. Nevertheless, he hoped to find a home here once more, somewhere he could feel safe and accepted. People didn’t like you if you were different, and he was certainly that. 

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Growing up in Surrey, Clare always dreamed of being a writer. Instead, she followed a career in IT, before moving to Norfolk for a quieter life and re-training as a jeweller.

Now writing full time, she lives with her husband and the youngest two of her six children. Weekends are spent exploring local castles and monastic ruins, or visiting the nearby coast.

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The Steel Rose (The Boar King’s Honor Trilogy, Book 2) by Nancy Northcott

Book Title: The Steel Rose

Series: The Boar King’s Honor Trilogy (Book 2)

Author: Nancy Northcott

Publication Date: April 29, 2021

Publisher: Falstaff Books

Page Length: 370 Pages

Genre: Historical Fantasy/Romantic Fantasy

The Steel Rose 

(The Boar King’s Honor Trilogy, Book 2)

by Nancy Northcott

THE BOAR KING’S HONOR TRILOGY

A wizard’s misplaced trust

A king wrongly blamed for murder

A bloodline cursed until they clear the king’s name

BOOK 2: THE STEEL ROSE

Amelia Mainwaring, a magically Gifted seer, is desperate to rescue the souls of her dead father and brother, who are trapped in a shadowy, wraith-filled land between life and death as the latest victims of their family curse. Lifting the curse requires clearing the name of King Richard III, who was wrongly accused of his nephews’ murder because of a mistake made by Amelia’s ancestor.

In London to seek help from a wizard scholar, Julian Winfield, Amelia has disturbing visions that warn of Napoleon Bonaparte’s escape from Elba and renewed war in Europe. A magical artifact fuels growing French support for Bonaparte. Can Amelia and Julian recover the artifact and deprive him of its power in time to avert the coming battles?

Their quest takes them from the crowded ballrooms of the London Season to the bloody field of Waterloo, demanding all of their courage, guile, and magical skill.  Can they recover the artifact and stop Bonaparte? Or will all their hopes, along with Amanda’s father and brother, be doomed as a battle-weary Europe is once again engulfed in the flames of war?

The Steel Rose is the second book in the time-traveling, history-spanning fantasy series The Boar King’s Honor, from Nancy Northcott (Outcast Station, The Herald of Day).

An excerpt from The Steel Rose

The scene below is the introduction of the book’s hero, Julian Winfield, Earl of Aysgarth. It’s set at his mansion in Yorkshire a few days after the book opens.

***

Julian Winfield, Earl of Aysgarth and holder of assorted other titles, frowned at the bits of parchment spread across his library worktable. The ancient codex, supposedly the work of Viking wizards in the eighth century, had fallen apart, and a household fire—again, supposedly, though the damage didn’t fit that explanation—had destroyed parts of the pages. 

The Latin script was an odd choice for Viking wizards of that pagan era. 

Standing just above six feet, he had to bend over the long table. Perhaps he should have a higher one made, but this one served well enough most of the time.

“Making progress?” his Aunt Augusta asked. She lounged back against the cushions of her chair, a decidedly unladylike pose. At fifty-one, a widow for a decade, his mother’s sister wore her graying blond hair in a simple bun-and-ringlets style and chose her frocks for comfort with the barest nod to fashion.

Her lack of concern with propriety, at least in private, was one reason they got on so well. He rarely wore a cravat or coat or waistcoat at Aysgarth, in or out of the house, and bedamned to society. 

“Some,” he replied. “The more I look at this codex, the more I think the story old Fortescue told me was made up out of whole cloth. Though perhaps that’s the story given to him. It doesn’t matter now. I’ll uncover the truth soon enough.”

The writing had faded on the fragment in front of him, and singe marks obliterated some of the words. At the edge, though, the letters o-p-p were clear enough. Was that oppidum, for town? Or some form of opprimere, to oppress?

“Can’t you sort all that magically?” his aunt asked.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Scowling, he shifted the fragments, looking for one that continued the word. Bloody hell, the singed pages made matching things up difficult. Magic had failed to restore the damage, perhaps because it was so longstanding. At least he could magically bind fragments together once he determined how they fit.

Aunt Augusta added, “If you want puzzles, I’m certain the Home Office would welcome your return.”

“I’ve had my fill of their sort of puzzles, thank you.” Not to mention the way everyone wanted to put in his oar. If not for the secret help of the Merlin Club’s Gifted members, well-meant Home Office interference would’ve made accomplishing anything difficult. 

He turned his attention back to the fragments. His aunt devoted herself to her book.

Mounds of snow still blanketed the shady parts of the back lawn that were visible through the windows and the French doors to the terrace. Frost sparkled on the windowpanes. In here, though, the fire kept the room cozy. Only its crackling and the occasional whispery sound of his aunt turning a page broke the silence. He liked it that way. This room was his haven, the books like old friends. The crossed cavalry sabers and broadswords above the two mantels and the family portraits hanging above those were so familiar that he scarcely noticed them.

With the war over and that Corsican menace, Bonaparte, safely confined, he could go back to his horses and his books in peace. Perhaps even find something that would help lift the curse confining his friend Adam’s soul.

“Julian?”

His aunt’s voice sounded odd, but it sometimes did when she was distracted. “Yes, Aunt?”

Was that word poena, for punishment, or—

“My dear, there’s a dragon landing on the lawn.”

—no, perhaps it was postulo, for ask or demand. “I’m sure Hawes will tend to it,” he told her. No, it wasn’t postulo. It was…wait. What?

He lifted his head to look at his aunt. Sitting ramrod straight now, she stared out the windows. Her lips were slightly parted. As though suddenly aware her jaw had dropped, she snapped her mouth shut.

“What did you say?” he asked.

“You heard me perfectly well. Come and look.”

He walked around the table to join her. Staring out the window, he blinked, rubbed his eyes, and looked again. “Yes,” he said slowly, “I do believe that’s a dragon.”

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This novel is available to read with #KindleUnlimited subscription.

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Nancy Northcott’s childhood ambition was to grow up and become Wonder Woman. Around fourth grade, she realized it was too late to acquire Amazon genes, but she still loved comic books, science fiction, fantasy, history, and romance. She combines the emotion and high stakes, and sometimes the magic, she loves in the books she writes.

She has written freelance articles and taught at the college level.  Her most popular course was on science fiction, fantasy, and society.  She has also given presentations on the Wars of the Roses and Richard III to university classes studying Shakespeare’s play about Richard III. Reviewers have described her books as melding fantasy, romance, and suspense. Library Journal gave her debut novel, Renegade, a starred review, calling it “genre fiction at its best.”

In addition to the historical fantasy Boar King’s Honor trilogy, Nancy writes the Light Mage Wars paranormal romances, the Arachnid Files romantic suspense novellas, and the Lethal Webs romantic spy adventures. With Jeanne Adams, she cowrites the Outcast Station science fiction mysteries.

Married since 1987, Nancy and her husband have one son, a bossy dog, and a house full of books.

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The Coffee Pot Book Club presents: Anarchy (Conquest, Book 3) By Tracey Warr

Book Title: The Anarchy

Series: Conquest, Book 3

Author: Tracey Warr

Publication Date: 2nd June 2020

Publisher: Impress Books

Page Length: 218 Pages

Genre: Historical Fiction/ Historical Romance

The Anarchy

(Conquest, Book 3)

By Tracey Warr

Unhappily married to Stephen de Marais, the Welsh princess, Nest, becomes increasingly embroiled in her countrymen’s resistance to the Norman occupation of her family lands. She plans to visit King Henry in the hope of securing a life away from her unwanted husband, but grieving for the loss of his son, the King is obsessed with relics and prophecies.

Meanwhile, Haith tries to avoid the reality that Nest is married to another man by distracting himself with the mystery of the shipwreck in which the King’s heir drowned. As Haith pieces together fragments of the tragedy, he discovers a chest full of secrets, but will the revelations bring a culprit to light and aid the grieving King?

Will the two lovers be united as Nest fights for independence and Haith struggles to protect King Henry?

Tracey Warr, Conquest III: The Anarchy, Impress Books, 2020

Enjoy an Excerpt from

Chapter 9

Reunion

We were all up with the lark in the morning but so was the rest of the household and a great deal of clattering and neighing broke through the swirling morning mist that lifted and lowered around the castle courtyard in waves. The air was damp and Amelina forecast more rain. Readying to dress me, she laid out an oiled riding cloak and heavy boots. She would remain at the castle and wait for my return, but I asked Ida to accompany me and keep her face well concealed. ‘It’s too dangerous,’ she gasped. 

‘I have a notion,’ I told her as we stood at the window watching Breri leave to continue his journey into Wales. Through the swirling mist, we glimpsed his flamboyant hat and his back, as he swayed in the saddle, disappearing down the road. 

‘I have an idea about this threat.’ In response to her inquisitive glance, I continued. ‘While Breri is in Pembroke, you are at great risk in Wales. I’m thinking you might be safer at Henry’s court for a while.’

‘What are you talking about, Nest!’

‘Henry would not betray you to the Church. I assure you that he will find the notion of a renegade nun a great amusement, and he was very grateful to you for nursing him through his sickness before.’

Ida’s expression showed her hesitation at my idea. ‘But then, I would have to leave you.’

‘Not for ever, just until we are sure that Breri is no threat.’

‘I believe Breri would have no compunction in betraying me for a handful of coin.’

‘Whereas the king would protect you.’

‘I don’t know, Nest.’

‘I have two motives, I confess. I think the king needs you, Ida. I was a little concerned at his speech last night on prophecies of death and births. Perhaps you could help keep him stable, keep him well?’

She nodded, but her face showed her reluctance and anxiety at the risk we would run in exposing her situation to the king.

Amelina’s prediction was true, and we rode for half an hour through sheets of cold rain that blustered at our cloaks, penetrated beneath the brims of our hats and under our collars, slid wet fingers inside the tops of our boots. ‘You’ll be regretting this, Nest!’ Henry laughed. 

‘I hope not, sire.’ First, I saw the long, curving line of the grey wall of the deer park running far across the fields, as far as the eye could see. We trotted through the gateway into the park and the trees gave us some respite from the downpour. Then, the hunting lodge came into view through the trees. Halting before the lodge, two of the king’s men came to help Ida and me dismount. We ran for the shelter of the door. ‘Stay close to me,’ I told Ida in a low voice.

‘Come in, Nest, and ….’ Henry turned, holding his hand out to me. Ida stood close behind me with her face swathed in a veil. He stopped mid-sentence at the sight of her, thinking that I had come alone, perplexed that my chaperone persisted in accompanying me even into private conversation with him. I pulled her fully into his chamber and closed the door behind us. The king had already discarded his sopping cloak and Ida and I followed suit. Then Ida slowly removed the veil that was moulded wet to the contours of her face.

‘Sister Benedicta … Haith’s sister,’ Henry said slowly.

‘Yes.’ She cast her eyes to the ground and Henry looked at me bewildered.

‘You are a long way from Fontevraud.’ I saw his eyes roving over her clothing. ‘And from your nun’s habit.’

‘Sister Benedicta is known as Ida de Bruges now,’ I told Henry. He opened his eyes wide to me and then to her, but she only glanced briefly at him, her face flushed. ‘She has temporarily left … she is on an extended pilgrimage.’

‘I see.’ Henry’s voice was loaded with amusement. I was relieved to find that my prediction about his reaction was correct. 

‘Henry, I have two favours to ask of you.’ I spoke quickly.

‘Ask away.’ He was chuckling openly now at Ida.

‘Would you keep Ida with you, in your court for a while, and safeguard her. She is at risk of exposure as a runaway nun, and I want to protect her from that.’

‘I would, certainly,’ he assented warmly. ‘I owe her a great deal.’

Ida thanked him quietly.

‘And would you sign my charter and ask witnesses for it from your household members breaking fast in the next room.’

He narrowed his eyes, distracted for a moment from his amusement at Ida’s renegade status. ‘Hmm. You wish to be away from your husband, Nest?’

I did not respond. ‘Very well. It is the least I can do for you, my beloved.’ He took my hand and I let him.

‘I would have it in writing,’ I persisted.

He rummaged in the saddle bag that he had brought in with him and produced my rolled charter. He unrolled it on the table, weighting it at either end with two stones that were left on the table for just such a purpose. He read it through again, and looked up at us both, his eyes glinting with humour. He took a few steps to the door, opened it a crack and called out, ‘Give me a stylus, quick.’ He closed the door and returned, stylus in hand to stare again at my charter spread out on the table.

 ‘Was it a man?’ he asked Ida, without looking up from his perusal of my charter.

Ida kept her lips tightly pressed together and her gaze directed at her feet.

He signed the charter with a flourish. ‘My scribe will see this witnessed for you, Nest, and sealed with the royal seal.’ Now he looked up. ‘I have no doubt it was a man,’ he said to Ida, smiling delightedly at us both, and holding the charter out to me.

Buy Links: The Daughter of the Last King (Book 1) -  The Drowned Court (Book 2)  

The Anarchy (Book 3) - 

Amazon UK:  Amazon US:  Amazon CA: Amazon AU: Barnes and Noble:  Waterstones:  Kobo:   BookShop.org: 

Author Bio:

Tracey Warr (1958- ) was born in London and lives in the UK and France. Her first historical novel, Almodis the Peaceweaver (Impress, 2011) is set in 11th century France and Spain and is a fictionalised account of the true story of the Occitan female lord, Almodis de la Marche, who was Countess of Toulouse and Barcelona. It was shortlisted for the Impress Prize for New Fiction and the Rome Film Festival Books Initiative and won a Santander Research Award. Her second novel, The Viking Hostage, set in 10th century France and Wales, was published by Impress Books in 2014 and topped the Amazon Australia charts. Her Conquest trilogy, Daughter of the Last King, The Drowned Court, and The Anarchy recount the story of a Welsh noblewoman caught up in the struggle between the Welsh and the Normans in the 12th century. She was awarded a Literature Wales Writers Bursary. Her writing is a weave of researched history and imagined stories in the gaps in history.

Tracey Warr studied English at University of Hull and Oxford University, gaining a BA (Hons) and MPhil. She worked at the Arts Council, Institute of Contemporary Arts, Chatto & Windus Publishers, and edited Poetry Review magazine with Mick Imlah. She also publishes art writing on contemporary artists, and in 2016 she published a future fiction novella, Meanda, in English and French, as part of the art project, Exoplanet Lot. She recently published a series of three books, The Water Age, which are future fiction and art and writing workshop books - one for adults and one for children - on the topic of water in the future. She gained a PhD in Art History in 2007 and was Guest Professor at Bauhaus University and Senior Lecturer at Oxford Brookes University and Dartington College of Arts. Her published books on contemporary art include The Artist’s Body (Phaidon, 2000), Remote Performances in Nature and Architecture (Routledge, 2015) and The Midden (Garret, 2018). She gained an MA in Creative Writing at University of Wales Trinity St David in 2011. She is Head of Research at Dartington Trust and teaches on MA Poetics of Imagination for Dartington Arts School.

Website:  Twitter: Facebook: LinkedIn: Instagram:  Amazon Author Page: Goodreads: 

D K Marley stops by on her Coffee Pot Book Club Blog Tour

Book Title: Kingfisher

Series: (The Kingfisher Series, Book One)

Author: D. K. Marley

Publication Date: June 28, 2021

Publisher: The White Rabbit Publishing (HFC Press)

Page Length: 530 Pages

Genre: Historical Time Travel

Kingfisher

(The Kingfisher Series, Book One)

By D. K. Marley

The past, future, and Excalibur lie in her hands.

Wales, 1914. Vala Penrys and her four sisters find solace in their spinster life by story-telling, escaping the chaos of war by dreaming of the romantic days of Camelot. When the war hits close to home, Vala finds love with Taliesin Wren, a mysterious young Welsh Lieutenant, who shows her another world within the tangled roots of a Rowan tree, known to the Druids as ‘the portal’.

One night she falls through, and suddenly she is Vivyane, Lady of the Lake – the Kingfisher – in a divided Britain clamoring for a High King. What begins as an innocent pastime becomes the ultimate quest for peace in two worlds full of secrets, and Vala finds herself torn between the love of her life and the salvation of not only her family but of Britain, itself.

"It is, at the heart of it, a love story – the love between a man and a woman, between a woman and her country, and between the characters and their fates – but its appeal goes far beyond romance. It is a tale of fate, of power, and, ultimately, of sacrifice for a greater good." - Riana Everly, author of Teaching Eliza and Death of a Clergyman.

***

Excerpt from Chapter 23 - “We Are All Mad Here”

We wandered along the passages, beneath the spatial colonnades, passing ancient Babylonian winged beasts and Assyrian statues, into the Egyptian gallery. Standing next to the towering sculpted image of Ramses, I couldn’t help but spout the questions forming in my mind.

“I wonder about so many things these days. Now, when I look at these ancient wonders, I am curious about the lives of the people living then. Who was this man? What did he eat, what did he wear, what were his passions and disappointments? This statue tells me nothing of the person except a vague impression of what he might have looked like. I suppose my curiosity is natural given who I am, is it not? I never used to wonder about such things, I felt quite content to dream about imaginary characters in books rather than ponder the realities of people’s lives. When faced with the knowledge of a book character, one you imagined as a mere creation of the author’s mind, as truly real, standing in her shoes, as I said before, the floodgates are lifting with great speed.”

Wells put his hands in his pockets and gazed up at the figure. “Historians and archaeologists are shamed next to you, Vala, for your ability gives you true insight into our past. I suppose, if you truly wished, you might search Ramses out and ask him yourself.”

My skin prickled upon his words and I touched the back of my neck as the hairs along my hairline stood on end.

“The book I am writing,” he continued, “at least, the one I am taking notes on touches on these things. It is a book of fiction or will be, and I intend on using moments like this to expound my own thoughts of the past. This Ramses must have been very much like all of us, dealing with the same unending days, thinking their world would go on forever as they knew it . . . century after century . . . losing their past and ignorant of their future. We become dull, Vala, like children believing our walled gardens stood there forever, and yet, what was before? I envy your ability for all I can do is use these pieces of stone here, or the sites of Stonehenge, or Avebury, or Carnac, as instruments of remembering, persuading myself to peruse my mind for some ancient voice calling from the past. Doctor Freud is an expert on the creative daydreaming mind . . . you should write down that book, as well. I’d like to think the things I conjure come from some latent memory from centuries ago, but I imagine I am just an ordinary man.”

I chuckled and glanced over to him. “Ordinary? No, sir, you are by no means ordinary.”

He bowed to me. “Coming from the extraordinary Lady of the Lake, I take that as the highest compliment I have ever received.”

I looked back to the imposing sly grin of Ramses. “Interesting, is it not, that we all imagine life in the past to be simpler, less complicated? Why even just a year ago, before the war broke out, we all drifted along in our lives, passing from afternoon tea to grand balls, commiserating over the foolish plight of filling our dance cards or turning the head of the next eligible suitor. Just one headline in the newspaper changed everything, overnight, and here I am trying to discover my place in all the chaos.”

“It is a very weighty thing you are doing, Vala.”

I shook my head and huffed. “And yet, the one question no one can answer is ‘why’? Taliesin and I have had endless discussions on the matter. In truth, I wonder if anything I do will change anything or if this deep yearning I have is simply of my own selfish desire for peace. Do I really even care about the fate of Britain or if King Arthur was real or not? Or is my need for escape, for this endless daydream, leading me down the dangerous path of madness? Now that the portal has opened, I can never get away from this incessant pull, this drive to save my family, to save Britain. It’s like some old gentleman who has lost his way in a speech and keeps on repeating the same thing—‘the empire, the empire, gentlemen, the Empire’. Very much like you, H. G.”

We both started laughing as he reached in his pocket and took out a small note ledger and pen, and started scribbling away along with his chuckles.

“What are you writing?” I asked.

“That was a good line, Vala . . . Empire,” he repeated, finishing and tucking the ledger back into his coat pocket. “I told you I was taking notes on you. You must always be careful round a writer for you never know when they might include you in one of their books.” 

He directed me towards the stairs to the upper floor and the galleries of the ancient world.

“As for what you were saying,” he continued as we wound up a small circular staircase near the Nimroud Saloon, “despite our differences in the actual ability to time travel, we are very much alike, you and I. Whilst I daydream of shooting through time, there is a burning core to why I write and why I make speeches about my hopes for the future of Britain . . . and not just Britain, but the world. At some point in our primal existence, even before your life as Vivyane, we all were born with eternity and peace fixed in our minds. This life we live now, this vacuous existence full of war and disunity is not normal, that is why those Victorian virtues, the idle existence, appealed to us. That being said, while we adore those peaceful times, we cannot ignore the need for development and knowledge. The problem is that selfish men and governments seek to use those two things to advance their own agendas instead of what is truly needed.”

I took a breath at the top of the stairs, more so to help my brain process his lengthy dissertation, and another to adjust the tight bindings of my corset.

“Which is what you are trying to initiate with the group you are a part of, the round table of men bent on bringing knowledge, peace, and unity to the world,” I replied.

“Exactly,” he answered back, opening the door to the Celtic gallery.

I stopped in front of one of the glass cases and turned to him. “But, why you, H. G.? Why, out of all the people in the world, does Fate appear to choose you to do these things? Or can it be that there is a bit of your own agenda in the matter, as well . . . a bit of selfishness. After all, your idea of free morality fits well into your own selfishness.”

“Mmph,” he gruffed. “The pot calling the kettle black, is it not, Lady of the Lake? For those primal doctrines of the teachings of the High Priestess are not any different, except the roles are reversed.”

I did not answer back, for I knew he was right. That was a topic I, myself, pondered on some time. I continued along the gallery, stopping every once in a while to read the notes affixed next to a hammered buckle or grinding stone, each time seeing my own face glinted against the glass staring back up at me. An ancient relic in search of an ancient relic.

H. G. walked along with me, at long last in momentary silence. He stopped in front of the case housing the now famous Battersea Shield found in the Thames in 1857. 

“Look at it. Once, long ago, an offering of immense importance to whoever tossed it into the waters; now, an object of entertainment for passers-by. In all our sight-seeing, and travelling, researching, and writing, we are staring at ourselves like visitors at a Zoo, desperate to reach the height of our knowledge . . . the ‘whys’ as you say. In all things we are searching to restore our memory in order to build a new world for the future. For the most part, those ordinary souls wandering these halls, or visiting sites like Stonehenge, the idea of the past and the hope for the future are simply romantic notions, and they pass through their life in vain repetition—imperfect, dreary, blurred, crowded, hurried, underfed, and undereducated. None of them like their lives, they just exist. For rare individuals such as you and I . . .”

“Fellow travellers,” I added, “at least in spirit.”

“Yes,” he chuckled. “Fellow travellers . . . the confines of this world are not enough. We are in search of a new world, a new age, on a personal, familial, community, national, global, and universal plane; and once known, once realised, you cannot escape it. Yet, the ultimate question of ‘why’ eludes all of us, Vala. Why am I a writer? Why do I wish for world unity and peace? Why are you a time traveller? Why are you the Lady of the Lake? If you ever discover the answer, I insist on you telling me first.”

I giggled and linked my arm with his. “So you can publish it in your next book?” 

He shrugged with a sly smile as I gazed back at the shield, sighing.

“What were you hoping to find here at the museum? In the Celtic room?” He asked.

I answered with my own disappointed shrug. “I suppose I was hoping to see something familiar from long ago. Something I might point to and say ‘I saw that once in the past’ or ‘that was mine’.”

“A sort of assurance that you are not losing your mind?”

I nodded. “Yes, you might say that.”

“Well,” he added, taking my hand in his and kissing the back of my fingers, “I believe in you. My imaginings of the fair nymph of waters stands before me here in this museum, not in glass, but alive and breathing, and quite unlike any other woman I have ever known.”

I smiled and narrowed my eyes. “I am sure you say that to all the women you have ever known, Bertie.”

He bellowed a laugh. “Save for the part about the fair nymph of waters, I confess.”

Available on #KindleUnlimited.

Universal Link: Amazon UK: Amazon US: Amazon CA:  Amazon AU: 

D. K. Marley is a Historical Fiction author specializing in Shakespearean adaptations, Tudor era historicals, Colonial American historicals, alternate historicals, and historical time-travel. At a very early age she knew she wanted to be a writer. Inspired by her grandmother, an English Literature teacher, she dove into writing during her teenage years, winning short story awards for two years in local competitions. After setting aside her writing to raise a family and run her graphic design business, White Rabbit Arts, returning to writing became therapy to her after suffering immense tragedy, and she published her first novel “Blood and Ink” in 2018, which went on to win the Bronze Medal for Best Historical Fiction from The Coffee Pot Book Club, and the Silver Medal from the Golden Squirrel Book Awards. Within three years, she has published four more novels (two Shakespearean adaptations, one Colonial American historical, and a historical time travel).

When she is not writing, she is the founder and administrator of The Historical Fiction Club on Facebook, and the CEO of The Historical Fiction Company, a website dedicated to supporting the best in historical fiction for authors and readers. And for fun, she is an avid reader of the genre, loves to draw, is a conceptual photography hobbyist, and is passionate about spending time with her granddaughter. She lives in Middle Georgia U.S.A. with her husband of 35 years, an English Lab named Max, and an adorable Westie named Daisy.

Website: 

Blog: Podcast: Group: Twitter: Facebook: Instagram: Pinterest: Amazon Author Page: Goodreads: 

The Coffee Pot Book Blog Tour welcomes Landscape of a Marriage

Book Title: Landscape of a Marriage

Author: Gail Ward Olmsted

Publication Date: July 29, 2021

Publisher: Black Rose Writing

Page Length: 314 Pages

Genre: Historical Fiction

Tour Schedule Page (Follow the tour): 

Landscape of a Marriage 

By 

Gail Ward Olmsted

(Blurb)

A marriage of convenience leads to a life of passion and purpose. A shared vision trans-forms the American landscape forever.

New York, 1858: Mary, a young widow with three children, agrees to marry her brother-in-law Frederick Law Olmsted, who is acting on his late brother’s deathbed plea to "not let Mary suffer”. But she craves more than a marriage of convenience and sets out to win her husband’s love. Beginning with Central Park in New York City, Mary joins Fred on his quest to create a 'beating green heart' in the center of every urban space. 

Over the next 40 years, Fred is inspired to create dozens of city parks, private estates and public spaces with Mary at his side. Based upon real people and true events, this is the story of Mary’s journey and personal growth and the challenges inherent in loving a brilliant and ambitious man. 

Buy Links: 

Amazon UK: Amazon US: Amazon CA: Amazon AU: Publisher: 

Gail Ward Olmsted was a marketing executive and a college professor before she began writing fiction on a fulltime basis. A trip to Sedona, AZ inspired her first novel Jeep Tour. Three more novels followed before she began Landscape of a Marriage, a biographical work of fiction featuring landscape architect Frederick Law Olmsted, a distant cousin of her hus-band’s, and his wife Mary. 

For more information, please visit her on Facebook and at GailOlmsted.com.

Website: Twitter: Facebook: Instagram: BookBub: Amazon Author Page: Goodreads:  

#NEW RELEASE - Robin Hood’s Return (The Robin Hood Trilogy Book 3)

Many of us have been waiting for the release of the third book in The Robin Hood Trilogy and I am pleased to let you know it is almost here! Details of all three books below, plus author questions and answers.

The Robin Hood Trilogy 

“A Wonderful Retelling Seamlessly Merging History and Legend”

Robin Hood’s Dawn (The Robin Hood Trilogy Book 1)

England, 1154-1194

A kingdom under assault.

A conspiracy born of anarchy.

A hero standing against tyranny.

Falsely convicted of a shocking crime, Robin Fitzooth, the Earl of Huntingdon, finds refuge in Sherwood Forest and becomes Robin Hood. Leading a band of men against the injustices of a malevolent sheriff and his henchmen, Robin begins to unravel a web of treachery threatening the English royal family. 

As shadowy forces gather to destroy the future of a nation, Robin faces deceit, betrayal, and the ravages of war as he defends his king, his country, his people, and the woman he loves from a conspiracy so diabolical, so unexpected, that the course of history hangs in the balance.

From the mists of an ancient woodland, to lavish royal courts teeming with intrigue, to the exotic shores of the Holy Land—Robin Hood leads the fight in a battle between good and evil, justice and tyranny, the future and the past.

Part one of an exciting three-part retelling of the Robin Hood legend!

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Robin Hood’s Widow (The Robin Hood Trilogy Book 2)

Robin’s duty to his king sends him on an odyssey that will unfold from the streets of Paris to the banks of the Danube. From incredible triumphs on the battlefields of the Crusade, to harrowing sea voyages, to a desperate dash across the frozen landscape of Central Europe, Robin Hood must ensure that King Richard safely returns to England.

Meanwhile, the outlaws of Sherwood Forest rise again under a new leader—and she is unwavering in her pursuit of justice against the tyranny of Sheriff de Argentan. Marian endures the heartbreak of widowhood only to find strength and purpose as she leads a small band of devoted men in her quest for vengeance while she protects Robin’s legacy.

Sir Guy of Gisborne, tormented by his conscience and enslaved by the sheriff, faces the wraith-like fury of the woman he once loved. How do you find forgiveness when you have committed an unforgivable crime? He must attempt a daunting journey of redemption, while finding inspiration from an unexpected source.

And through it all, Robin, Marian, and Guy are entangled in a web of treachery spun by the King of France and his sinister advisor, Montlhéry, as the plot to dismantle the Angevin Empire and take the throne of England from the Plantagenets boldly continues. 

Part two of an exciting three-part retelling of the Robin Hood legend!

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Robin Hood’s Return (The Robin Hood Trilogy Book 3)

The Legend of Robin Hood is born when he is outlawed after returning from the Holy Land. 

Finally reunited, Robin and Marian, along with their band of men, must face both an army led by the mysterious Sheriff of Nottingham and the wrath of a ruthless Queen Eleanor. Confronting betrayal and forging new alliances, they fight against the sheriff’s tyranny, determined to uncover his secrets.

With King Richard in captivity, Queen Eleanor must collect an unprecedented king’s ransom, while an increasingly reckless Prince John pursues the throne at any cost. As opposing forces battle for control of the English throne, the King of France and his sinister advisor, Montlhéry, conspire to end the Plantagenet dynasty forever.

Dark secrets and unexpected revelations could destroy the future of England. The course of history hangs in the balance. Robin and Marian must prove their innocence while saving both King Richard and Prince John. But can they prevail in the ultimate battle between the future and the past?

A thrilling, fast-paced finale to a unique retelling of the Robin Hood Legend!

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Author Q&A with Olivia Longueville and J.C. Plummer

How does your trilogy compare to the traditional Robin Hood ballads?

We hope all Robin Hood fans will enjoy this retelling. One of our goals was to create a story that was unique, yet respectful towards the original legends. We also wanted to merge history and legend in a compelling, believable way. 

Additionally, we felt that Marian was a character who deserved more attention. All too often she is in the background with little to do. With this in mind, we have created a Lady Marian who takes center stage in Robin Hood’s Widow and Robin Hood’s Return, defeating her opponents with brains instead of brawn.  

What do you consider the heart and soul of your trilogy? Can you give us an overview that goes beyond the blurbs?

The first book, Robin Hood’s Dawn, re-imagines the origins of Robin Hood. Readers are introduced to a young man who has been shaped by two very different parents: a distant, selfish father and a compassionate mother devoted to helping the poor. The themes featured in this book include taking a stand for what is right, recognizing the intrinsic value of every human being, and how the sins of a father can affect the next generation. 

In the second book, Robin Hood’s Widow, Marian, the Sheriff of Nottingham, and Guy of Gisborne believe that Robin is dead. But Robin is alive, and he is with King Richard in the Holy Land.

Robin Hood’s Widow explores themes of grief and redemption, while featuring Marian’s adventures as leader of the outlaws. Her story is told in parallel with Robin’s quest to return home as he fulfills his obligations to King Richard. Despite the difficult subject matter, Robin Hood’s Widow is an inspirational tale of triumphing over adversity. 

The conclusion of the trilogy, Robin Hood’s Return, reunites Robin and Marian. Unfortunately, their joy is overshadowed by the prospect of a vengeful Prince John taking the throne. While Robin labors tirelessly to support King Richard and raise his ransom, the sheriff orchestrates a diabolical plot that causes Robin to be outlawed again. With Marian at his side, he must defeat the sheriff while ensuring the return of the king.

The sheriff’s secrets and the full extent of the conspiracy to end the Plantagenet dynasty are revealed in Robin Hood’s Return. Robin and Marian must prove their innocence while saving both King Richard and Prince John. In addition to the recurring theme of the sins of the father, the story explores themes of trust and forgiveness as Robin and Marian rebuild their relationship after several years apart.

Do you have a target audience for the trilogy?

Readers with a passion for history will appreciate the historical details woven into the story. Fans of Sharon Kay Penman, Alison Weir, and Elizabeth Chadwick will enjoy this medieval trilogy.

How did you become interested in writing the trilogy and working together as co-authors?

Olivia:

The story of Robin Hood’s Widow is very special to me, and I wrote the original version after I experienced a devastating personal loss. Readers might be surprised to learn that Robin Hood’s Widow was written before Robin Hood’s Dawn!

I love to tell stories with multi-dimensional characters. I am multi-lingual, and I enjoy writing stories in different languages. My first published novel was an English-language alternate history featuring Anne Boleyn.

Jennie:

I had done freelance editing work for several authors, including Olivia. We connected over our love of history and Robin Hood. I was editing the original version of Robin Hood’s Widow when we were inspired to write a full trilogy with Robin Hood’s Widow as the centerpiece. 

Robin Hood’s Dawn became the origin story, and now Robin Hood’s Return brings the story to completion with a fast-paced, thrilling finale. 

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These links are for the Kindle versions. Paperback editions are also available. Currently, all books are available for free through the Kindle Unlimited program. 

Book 1: Robin Hood’s Dawn

bit.ly/1-RHDawn

https://bit.ly/RHDawn-UK 

Book 2: Robin Hood’s Widow

bit.ly/RHWidow

bit.ly/RHWidow-UK

 

Book 3: Robin Hood’s Return

bit.ly/RHReturn

bit.ly/RHReturn-UK

Olivia Longueville has always loved literature and fiction, and she is passionate about historical research, genealogy, and the arts. She has undertaken in-depth research into the French Renaissance and the history of the Plantagenet, Tudor, and Valois dynasties. She has several degrees in finance & general management from London Business School (LBS) and other universities. At present, she helps her father run the family business. 

Olivia is also the author of Between Two Kings, an alternative history of Anne Boleyn, and its forthcoming sequel, Queen’s Revenge. She is interested in creating strong and diverse characters, while giving voice to stories that are compelling, inspiring, and amusing.

Olivia’s social media profiles:

Personal website: www.olivialongueville.com/

Project website: www.angevinworld.com/

Twitter: Twitter@O_Longueville

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ovlmoscow

Tumblr: www.olivia-longueville.tumblr.com/

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J. C. Plummer 

J.C. Plummer (Jennie) graduated Summa Cum Laude from Washburn University with a Bachelor of Arts degree in History and Anthropology. She later earned a Master of Science degree in Computer Information Science from Dartmouth College.

As an author and historian, Jennie’s goal is to provide thoughtful and entertaining storytelling that honors the past, is mindful of the present, and is optimistic for the future.

Jennie’s social media profiles:

Project website: www.angevinworld.com/

Twitter: @JC_Plummer

Facebook: www.facebook.com/jennie.newbrand/

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