The Coffee Pot Blog Tour presents: The Douglas Bastard (A sequel to The Black Douglas Trilogy) by J R Tomlin

Book Title: The Douglas Bastard

Series: (A sequel to The Black Douglas Trilogy)

Author: J R Tomlin

Publication Date: 26th April 2022

Publisher: Albannach Publishing

Genre: Historical Fiction

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The Douglas Bastard 

(A sequel to The Black Douglas Trilogy)

By J R Tomlin

The Black Douglas is dead. With Scotland's greatest knight no more, the throne is up for grabs as enemies try to devour the kingdom.

An orphaned youth returning from exile, Archibald, the Black Douglas's bastard son, fights for a land being torn apart from within and without. If Archibald is to survive, he must learn to sleep with a claymore in his hand and one eye open because even his closest friend might betray him...

This is an adventure set in the bloody Second Scottish War of Independence when Scot-land's very survival is in question.

Read an excerpt

My friend did live though he was months healing, and my beating hurt for only a day or two. He told me that winter was not the season for fighting, so he would not miss much. I spent my days keeping him company, being instructed by Sir John with sword and lance or the priest in reading and writing, and in the company of the men who were happy to regale me with stories of attacks on the English from caves where they hid in the great forest.

Life in the keep still got boring at times. So I welcomed it one chilly spring morning while I was giving his hauberk one more polish when he stopped in the door of the armory. “Come with me, Archie.”

I followed him into the lower bailey, happy to be called away from a boring task. It was a bright, crisp morning, and swallows were twittering between the thatched roofs. He strode to-ward the smithy, its smoke rising straight up. A skein of geese flew overhead, wending their way north. The clang of hammer strikes came from inside, along with the blacksmith’s shout-ing to his son to work the bellows. John and Andrew, Sir William’s bastard half-brother who had just returned from aiding the Stewart, stood chatting in front of the building.

When we entered, John and Andrew following us, the blacksmith leaned over his anvil, ham-mering a heated horseshoe he was forming. His face was broad beneath graying hair, and strong, muscular forearms stuck out of his tunic. He wore a leather apron and leather gloves. 

“Right with you, my lord.” He gave the horseshoe another couple of blows, stuck it hissing into a tub of water, and turned, beaming. “I found just the right one for the lad.”

“Let us see it, then.”

This was getting better and better. The smith put down his tools and strode to a table at the side of the smithy. The links of a hauberk clinked when he held it. “It was the smallest you took from that attack on the supply train at yuletide. It needed a few repairs, but those are done.”

Sir William stroked his chin. “Hold it up to him. It looks a bit large.”

I was bouncing, my heart racing, and the smith growled at me to stay still as he held it up to my chest.

“Aye, but he is growing, so that is nae bad thing. He should wear the thickest haubergeon we can find under it until he has grown a bit.” He tilted his head and frowned. “I will make the aventail on his helm long enough to cover any gap around the neck.”

Not able to contain it anymore, I burst out, “It’s to be mine? Truly?”

“My squire must have armor.” A corner of Sir William’s thin mouth twitched. 

John slapped me on the back. “I told Liddesdale you are ready. So dinnae let me down.”

“A squire . . .” I had been sure he would make me his squire, but it really happening was like a dream. The smithy appeared to spin for a moment as though I’d had too much ale. I turned to Sir William and burst out, “I will . . . I will serve you well. Always . . . I will be your man.”

Sir William opened his mouth, but what he was about to say was cut off when one of the tower guards beat the iron bar that served as a warning bell and shouted, “In view! Riders in view!” 

Sir William turned on his heel and stepped out the open front of the smithy. He called up, “How many?”

“Six riders. Not flying a banner.”

He strode across the bailey and up the steps to the parapet walk. Then he laughed and called down, “Open the sally port.”

I clutched the hauberk in my arms and went out to see that, indeed, only the small door into the bailey was opened, not the big gate. One of the guards on the ground was ushering in the cleric Bullock and his men-at-arms. A ginger-haired, craggy-faced knight strode beside Bullock. Sir William was bounding down the parapet stairs, shouting, “Welcome.” Two grooms were hurry-ing to take their mounts. “Simon Fraser! A welcome sight, my friend.”

“Liddesdale.” Bullock’s wide face was split with a grin. “I have a plan for taking Edinburgh.”

“Edinburgh cannae be taken,” Andrew said gloomily. “Not after the way King Edward strength-ened it.”

“Anything can be taken,” Bullock said. “It is a matter of finding the right way.”

Fraser added, “But we need to move quickly before they are resupplied. Later Bullock’s ruse might not work as well.”

“How many men do they have? Do you ken?” Sir William asked.

“My contact says a hundred or so total, about half men-at-arms and half archers. Also, some watch, half a score or so.”

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J. R. Tomlin is the author of nineteen historical novels.

She has close ties with Scotland since her father was a native Scot, and she spent substantial time in Edinburgh while growing up. Her historical novels are set for the most part in Scot-land. Her love of that nation is traced from the stories of Robert the Bruce and the Good Sir James her grandmother read to her when she was small, to hillwalking through the Cairn-gorms where the granite hills have a gorgeous red glow under the setting sun. Later, her writing was influenced by Alexander Dumas, Victor Hugo, Nigel Tranter, and Sir Walter Scott.

When JR isn't writing, she enjoys hiking, playing with her Westie, and killing monsters in computer games. In addition to spending time in Scotland, she has traveled in the US, Eu-rope, and the Pacific Rim. She now lives in Oregon.

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

Next stop on the Coffee Pot Blog Tour for Lies That Blind by E.S. Alexander

Book Title: Lies That Blind

Author: E.S. Alexander 

Publication Date: 19th October 2021

Publisher: Penguin Random House 

Page Length: 304 Pages

Genre: Historical Fiction

Follow the tour: 

Lies That Blind

By E.S. Alexander

What would you risk to avoid obscurity?

Malaya, 1788

Aspiring journalist Jim Lloyd jeopardises his future in ways he never could have imagined. He risks his wealthy father’s wrath to ride the coat-tails of Cap-tain Francis Light, an adventurer governing the East India Company’s new trad-ing settlement on Penang. Once arrived on the island, Jim—as Light’s assis-tant—hopes that chronicling his employer’s achievements will propel them both to enduring fame. But the naïve young man soon discovers that years of decep-tion and double-dealing have strained relations between Light and Penang’s le-gal owner, Sultan Abdullah of Queda, almost to the point of war. Tensions mount: Pirate activity escalates, traders complain about Light’s monopolies, and inhabitants threaten to flee, fearing a battle the fledgling settlement cannot hope to win against the Malays. Jim realises that a shared obsession with renown has brought him and Light perilously close to infamy: a fate the younger man, at least, fears more than death. Yet Jim will not leave Penang because of his dedi-cation to Light’s young son, William, and his perplexing attraction to a mercuri-al Dutchman. He must stay and confront his own misguided ambitions as well as help save the legacy of a man he has come to despise.

Inspired by true events, Lies That Blind is a story featuring historical character Francis Light (1740-1794) who, in an effort to defy his mortality, was seeming-ly willing to put the lives and livelihoods of a thousand souls on Penang at risk.

Excerpt from LIES THAT BLIND  

(Protagonist, Jim Lloyd, imprisoned in the fort for his own safety, has just had a major argument with his employer’s heavily pregnant wife, Martinha, about the forthcoming threat to the island and its inhabitants, caused by her husband.)

I kept out of everyone’s way for the next two days. By Sunday, I had calmed down enough and wanted to apologise to Light for distressing his wife. As I ventured passed the bankshall I heard raised voices inside. Standing close to the door, but far enough away so that no one inside could see me, I could make out Light, James Scott, Captains Glass and Hamilton, and Lieutenants Raban and Mylne. All of them jacketless with rolled up shirtsleeves. 

Light was waving a piece of parchment above his head. “This letter from the native chiefs is nothing short of a declaration of war, despite the flowery language. ‘Our friend’, indeed!” 

Scott removed the document from Light’s shaking hand and, scanning it, began to read aloud in a manner that only exaggerated the Malay habit of writing extremely long, barely punctuated sentences: “Likewise if our friend will not come with us and do homage to the King, the King is not content that our friend should remain any longer on Poolo Pinang therefore our friend will get away about his business quietly for Poolo Pinang is the property of the King of Queda from time immemorial moreover if our friend attempts to stay by force God who knows all things will place the evil upon his head, we are free from blame.”  

“How much is he asking for now?” inquired John Glass.

Scott answered, Light having already sunk into his chair staring off into nowhere. “Five thousand dollars and an agreement to pay ten thousand per annum for the years that have passed.”

“It cannot be done,” murmured Light. “All the specie on this island has been exhausted since the native merchants would not visit us while we were under threat of attack. I have even had to pay the military men from sales of East India Company opium.”

“Something else Bengal won’t be happy about,” added Scott. 

The room remained hushed until John Glass piped up again. “So, gentlemen, what is to be done?”

“Send over more opium,” answered Light wearily.

I became aware of a pain in one of my palms where I had been pressing my fingernails too deep into my skin. Good God man, I wanted to shout, learn a lesson; that will only delay the inevitable.  

I glanced over at Robert Hamilton who was shifting from foot to foot. “I think we should prepare ourselves for war,” he said. “We have a few days at least to get our men ready. The fort can be strengthened if we work on the bulwarks and use the design to our advantage. I suggest supplementing the cannons on the easterly walls and—”

“There are no spare guns to place along the sea-coast,” Captain Glass interrupted.

“But you could purchase three nine pounder iron guns and borrow four six pounders from Captain Billamore,” said Scott to Light. 

“We can face this enemy on our turf and win,” declared Hamilton, sounding as excited as a child told to expect a special birthday present. 

“No!” The word was out of my mouth before I could stop it. I stepped out of the shadows into the room of military men. 

“What the hell do you want?” Light called across the room when he saw me.

“To save this island and your legacy, Captain Light,” I answered, strangely becalmed. “It is madness to allow an armada of at least two hundred and fifty armed vessels and ten thousand men or more to land on our shores. You have a garrison of four hundred. This fort is crumbling around us. A few choice shots and it will be shattered by cannon fire and all your guns with it. You must take the fight to them.”

Hamilton, who apparently had not noticed how much closer I had moved towards him, laughed uproariously. “What kind of madcap military manoeuvre is that? And who are you to suggest—

”

With the stealth I had been practising for weeks I now stood behind him, the crook of my arm pressing into his throat, but not too tightly. 

“You think that is enough to overpower me?” he scoffed, looking incredulously at men he believed were his friends.

“Certainly not,” I replied, blood pumping. When he saw the keris I held in my other hand he appeared as transfixed as a bird frozen in place by an advancing cobra. I whispered in Hamilton’s ear. “I might first cut out your liver,” I said, prodding the dagger’s tip into his abdomen and watched as a speck of blood stained his otherwise spotless shirt. With lightning speed, I shifted the point to the back of his neck. “Or cut here, which I assure you means you will never need those fancy boots again.” With a final flourish I waved the deadly weapon in front of his face, almost nipping the tip of his nose. “The beauty of a curved and wavy blade is that it is not the dagger going in that causes most damage, but what happens to the internal organs when the attacker draws it out.”

“Enough!” shouted Light. “Leave Hamilton be.” 

With a gentle push that sent the terrified man flying, I heard sniggers. In soundless unison the other men edged away from the former schoolyard bully. I had surmised correctly that Hamilton was not popular, and I had now earned the others’ respect. I could barely keep the smirk off my face.  

I strode next to the superintendent and addressed the gathering. “Gentlemen, please hear me out. I assure you my suggestion has considerable historical precedent in situations where one army is vastly outnumbered by its foe.” 

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

E.S. Alexander was born in St. Andrews, Scotland in 1954, although her family moved to England a few years later. Her earliest memories include producing a newspaper with the John Bull printing set she was given one Christmas. She wrote and directed her first play, Osiris, at age 16, performed to an audience of parents, teachers, and pupils by the Lower Fifth Drama Society at her school in Bolton, Lancashire. Early on in her writing career, Liz wrote several short sto-ries featuring ‘The Dover Street Sleuth’, Dixon Hawke for a D.C. Thomson newspaper in Scotland. Several of her (undoubtedly cringe-worthy) teenage po-ems were published in An Anthology of Verse.

Liz combined several decades as a freelance journalist writing for UK magazines and newspapers ranging from British Airway’s Business Life and the Daily Mail, to Marie Claire and Supply Chain Management magazine, with a brief stint as a presenter/reporter for various radio stations and television channels, includ-ing the BBC. In 2001 she moved to the United States where she earned her mas-ter’s degree and Ph.D. in educational psychology from The University of Texas at Austin.

She has written and co-authored 17 internationally published, award-winning non-fiction books that have been translated into more than 20 languages.

In 2017, Liz relocated to Malaysia. She lives in Tanjung Bungah, Pulau Pinang where she was inspired to embark on one of the few forms of writing left for her to tackle: the novel.

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The Coffee Pot Blog Tour presents 1066 Turned Upside Down,

Book Title: 1066 Turned Upside Down

Authors: Joanna Courtney, Helen Hollick, Anna Belfrage, Richard Dee

G.K. Holloway, Carol McGrath, Alison Morton, Eliza Redgold, Annie Whitehead

With a foreword by C.C. Humphreys.

Publication Date: 14th September 2021

Publisher: Taw River Press (paperback) Matador/Troubador (e-book)

Page Length: 222 Pages

Genre: Alternative History

Tour Schedule Page: 

1066 Turned Upside Down 

By Joanna Courtney, Helen Hollick, Anna Belfrage, Richard Dee, G.K. Holloway, 

Carol McGrath, Alison Morton, Eliza Redgold, Annie Whitehead

With a foreword by C.C. Humphreys

Have you ever wondered what might have happened if William the Conqueror had been beaten at Hastings in 1066? Or if Harald Hardrada had won at Stamford Bridge? Or if Ed-ward the Confessor had died with an heir ready to take his crown? If so – here is the perfect set of short stories for you.

1066 Turned Upside Down explores a variety of ways in which that momentous year could have played out very differently.

Written by nine well-known authors the stories will take you on a journey through the spec-ulative ‘what ifs?’ of England’s most famous year in history.

Read an excerpt by Joanna Courtney from 1066 Turned Upside Down

HOLD ENGLAND FIRM

by Joanna Courtney

If you’ve ever had the luck to go to the Battle of Hastings re-enactment at Battle Abbey, you will have heard, as I have, the vast majority of the spectators vigorously boo-ing Duke William. Most of us still, despite so much of our heritage coming from our Norman ancestors, believe in our hearts that Harold was the just and good English defender and that William was the vicious foreign invader. Certainly at the time, King Harold was desperate to see William from his shores. This was the man who had forced him, under duress, to swear an oath of allegiance. This was the man trying to steal England on some trumped-up promise no one else remembered. And this was the man who was ravaging his own patriarchal lands around Hastings. Harold had beaten Hardrada in a surprise attack and he was keen to do the same to William. He rode out from Westminster before his northern reinforcements had caught him up – a rare impetu-ousness that may well have cost him the Battle of Hastings. If only he had waited one more day…

The English camp stretched out as far as the eye could see, swamping the ancient moot point of the now wizened hoary apple tree. And still men came. Even now, Harold could see a new group coming out of the thick trees of the Andreaswald – maybe fifty of them, led by a squire who was barely bearded and riding on a packhorse that looked as if it might expire at any mo-ment. 

His men had an eclectic collection of weapons: rusting swords with only their new-cut edges shining in the low autumn sun; knives of all sizes, no doubt taken from the kitchen or the threshing barn; and hoes and spades and rakes that might have looked comical save for the fierce determination with which they were wielded. These men had come with all they had to fight for England and Harold rushed to welcome them to his army. He would have felt safer, perhaps, had they been in chainmail with fine new blades, but raw courage counted for much in a shield wall and he grabbed keenly for their hands.

‘Welcome, welcome. Thank you for joining us.’

The men, wide-eyed, dropped to their knees at the sight of the crown on Harold’s head.

‘King Harold, my lord. We are honoured indeed.’

‘No please.’ Harold rushed to raise them. ‘It is I who will be honoured to fight at your side to-morrow. England will need all her sons to keep the Normans out.’

This elicited a roar of approval and Harold seized the chance to move away, adjusting the heavy crown as he went. He felt a little foolish wearing it in the rough war camp but his brother, Garth, had insisted that the men needed to see him as a king and he was right. These new re-cruits would fight harder for having stood before their ruler. If Harold was to be a king, he was determined to be a good king and if that started with jewels on his brow, so be it. It will make you an easy target, a voice inside his head reminded him but he paid it little heed. He had led armies for years with his ‘fighting man’ standard high over his head and had not yet been cut down. His chainmail was of the finest quality, his helmet of the thickest steel and his sword sharpened to cut bone like butter. 

The royal swordsmith had done the sharpening in London, saying Harold could not ride on the Normans with Viking guts dulling his blade. There was time, he’d insisted, and everyone had said the same. The Normans were going nowhere. They’d set up one of their ridiculous little wooden castles at Pevensey and were happy hiding within its walls. Harold, they’d all said, could take a few days to regroup and recruit and rest.

‘Rest?’ he’d roared at them. ‘How can I rest with scum on our doorstep? How can I rest whilst they raid my villages and cut down my trees to make arrows for our hearts?’

Everyone had looked scared at that, even Garth. Harold had been a little loud, perhaps –there must be traces of his father in his blood after all, God bless him. Born the son of a lowly thegn, Godwin had fought his way up to become England’s topmost earl and had passed that honour to his eldest living son, Harold. How proud he would have been now, to see his son as king.

Does William win the coming battle – as history tells us he did? Or maybe this time... Find out in 1066 Turned Upside Down

READERS’ COMMENTS

“1066 Turned Upside Down is the exemplar for how analytical counterfactual history should be done, combining the best elements of fiction and non-fiction to create an im-mensely impressive achievement.”

“As a collection, the quality of the writing is exceptional and the variety of possible out-comes presented is truly fascinating.”

“The collection is assembled in such a way that between the ‘alternatives’ are the related facts as they happened, as far as historians and archaeologists know – which still leaves room for these experienced writers’ imaginations.”

“A book I will read and re-read. I heartily recommend it”

“The real joy of a collection of stories like this is, of course, that you are likely to be intro-duced to writers you may not have come across before.”

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1066 Turned Upside Down is a collection of eleven alternative history short stories of a ‘what if’ nature imagined by nine well-known successful authors:

JOANNA COURTNEY Ever since Joanna sat up in her cot with a book, she’d wanted to be a writer and cut her publication teeth on short stories and serials for the women’s magazines before signing to PanMacmillan in 2014 for her three-book series The Queens of the Con-quest about the wives of the men fighting to be King of England in 1066. Her second series, written for Piatkus is Shakespeare’s Queens exploring the real history of three of the bard’s greatest female characters – Lady Macbeth, Ophelia and Cordelia.

Joanna’s fascination with historical writing is in finding the similarities between us and them –with an especial goal to provide a female take on some of the greatest stories we think we know. www.joannacourtney.com

ALISON MORTON writes the award-winning alternative fiction Roma Nova thriller series featuring tough, but compassionate heroines. She blends her deep love of Roman history with six years’ military service and a life of reading crime, historical, adventure and thriller fiction. A ‘Roman nut’ since age 11, she started wondering what a modern Roman society would be like if run by strong women. She has recently branched out into a contemporary crime setting with Double Identity, the first of a planned series. www.alison-morton.com/

ANNA BELFRAGE Had Anna been allowed to choose, she’d have become a time-traveller. As this was impossible, 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 set in 14th century England. Anna has also published The Wanderer, a fast-paced contemporary romantic suspense trilogy with paranormal and time-slip ingredients. His Castilian Hawk - returning to medieval times and her most recent re-lease, The Whirlpools of Time, a time travel romance set against the backdrop of brewing rebellion in the Scottish highlands. Anna has won several awards including various Gold, Silver and Bronze Coffee Pot Book Club awards. www.annabelfrage.com

ANNIE WHITEHEAD is an historian and prize-winning author. Her main interest in histo-ry is the period formerly known as the ‘Dark Ages’. Her first novel, To Be A Queen, is the story of Aethelflaed (daughter of Alfred the Great), who came to be known as the Lady of the Mercians. Alvar the Kingmaker, tells the story of Aelfhere of Mercia, a nobleman in the time of King Edgar. Cometh the Hour goes further back in time to the seventh century, to tell the story of Penda, the last pagan king of Mercia. Annie has twice been a prizewinner in the Mail on Sunday Novel Writing competition, she won first prize for nonfiction in the new Writing Magazine Poetry and Prose competition, and was the inaugural winner of the HWA (Historical Writers’ Association)/Dorothy Dunnett Society Short Story Competition and is now a judge for that same competition.

Annie has had two nonfiction books published. Mercia: The Rise and Fall of a Kingdom (Amberley Books) has been an Amazon #1 Bestseller. Women of Power in Anglo-Saxon England was published by Pen & Sword Books in 2020. www.anniewhiteheadauthor.co.uk

CAROL McGRATH is the author of The Daughters of Hastings Trilogy. Her fifth histori-cal novel, The Silken Rose, first in The Rose Trilogy, published by the Headline Group, is set during the High Middle Ages. It features Ailenor of Provence and was published in 2020. The Damask Rose about Eleanor of Castile was published in 2021. The Stone Rose, Isabella of France, follows in 2022. Carol has also written Historical Non-Fiction for Pen & Sword. www.carolcmcgrath.co.uk

ELIZA REDGOLD is an author and ‘romantic academic’. Her bestselling historical fiction includes her Ladies of Legend trilogy, starting with Naked: A Novel of Lady Godiva re-leased internationally by St Martin’s Press, New York. Her historical romances are pub-lished by Harlequin Historical, London (Harper Collins). They include Playing the Duke’s Mistress, Enticing Benedict Cole, The Scandalous Suffragette and The Master’s New Gov-erness. They have been translated into multiple languages including Italian, Polish, Czech, Danish and Swedish, and are available internationally. www.elizaredgold.com

G.K. HOLLOWAY After graduating from Coventry University with an honours degree in history and politics, he worked in education in and around Bristol, England, where he now lives. After reading a biography about Harold Godwinson, he studied the late Anglo-Saxon era in detail. When he had enough material to weave together facts and fiction he produced his novel. 1066 What Fates Impose, a story of family feuds, court intrigues, assassinations, plotting and scheming, loyalty and love, all ingredients in an epic struggle for the English crown. www.gkholloway.co.uk

HELEN HOLLICK moved from London in 2013 and now lives on a thirteen-acre farm in North Devon, England. Born in London, Helen wrote pony stories as a teenager, moved to science fiction and fantasy, and then discovered the wonder of historical fiction. Published since 1994 with her Arthurian Pendragon’s Banner Trilogy, followed by her 1066 era duo. She became a USA Today bestseller with her story of Queen Emma: The Forever Queen (ti-tled A Hollow Crown in the UK), and its companion novel, Harold the King (titled I Am the Chosen King in the U.S.A). She also writes the Sea Witch Voyages, a series of pirate-based nautical adventures with a touch of fantasy. Commissioned by Amberley Press she wrote a non-fiction book about pirates in fact, fantasy and fiction and a non-fiction book about smugglers, published by Pen and Sword.

Recently she has ventured into the ‘Cosy Mystery’ genre with her Jan Christopher Myster-ies, the first of which is A Mirror Murder. She runs Discovering Diamonds, an independent online review site for Historical Fiction, primarily aimed at showcasing Indie writers.

She occasionally gets time to write. www.helenhollick.net

RICHARD DEE was a Master Mariner and ship’s pilot, now living in Brixham, South Dev-on.  His novels include Science Fiction and Steampunk adventures, as well as the exploits of Andorra Pett, a reluctant amateur detective. www.richarddeescifi.co.uk

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Books at Christmas!

 Evening all, 

Several of my books will be on special deals over the Christmas period. Starting with my most recent, A Matter of Conscience; The Aragon Years which goes on countdown deal on  December 1st.

‘A king must have sons: strong, healthy sons to rule after him.’

On the unexpected death of Arthur Tudor, Prince of Wales his brother, Henry, becomes heir to the throne of England. The intensive education that follows offers Henry a model for future excellence; a model that he is doomed to fail.

On his accession, he chooses his brother’s widow, Caterina of Aragon, to be his queen. Together they plan to reinstate the glory of days of old and fill the royal nursery with boys.

But when their first-born son dies at just a few months old, and subsequent babies are born dead or perish in the womb, the king’s golden dreams are tarnished

Christendom mocks the virile prince. Caterina’s fertile years are ending yet all he has is one useless living daughter, and a baseborn son.

He needs a solution but stubborn to the end, Caterina refuses to step aside.

As their relationship founders his eye is caught by a woman newly arrived from the French court. Her name is Anne Boleyn.

A Matter of Conscience: The Aragon Years offers a unique first-person account of the ‘monster’ we love to hate and reveals a man on the edge; an amiable man made dangerous by his own impossible expectation.

The story continues in A Matter of Faith: Book Two of The Henrician Chronicle.

Read the reviews here: 

Buy link:

If you get a redirect notice, just click the book title and you will be taken through to the correct page.

Merry Christmas! 

The Coffee Pot Blog Tours present: A Mystery of Murder (Jan Christopher Mysteries, Episode 2) by Helen Hollick

Book Title: A Mystery of Murder

Series: Jan Christopher Mysteries, Episode 2

Author: Helen Hollick

Publication Date: 14th November 2021

Publisher: Taw River Press

Page Length: 160 Pages

Genre: Cosy Mystery

Follow the Tour here

A Mystery of Murder

(Jan Christopher Mysteries, Episode 2)

By Helen Hollick

‘Had I known what was to happen soon after we arrived at Mr and Mrs Walker’s lovely old West Country house, my apprehension about spending Christmas in Devon would have dwindled to nothing.’

Library Assistant Jan Christopher is to spend Christmas with her boyfriend, DS Laurie Walker and his family, but when a murder is discovered, followed by a not very accidental accident, the traditional Christmas spirit is somewhat marred... 

What happened to Laurie’s ex-girlfriend? Where is the vicar’s wife? Who took those old photographs? And will the farmer up the lane ever mend those broken fences? 

Set in 1971, this is the second Jan Christopher Cosy Mystery. Join her (and an owl and a teddy bear) in Devon for a Christmas to remember. : 

Will the discovery of a murder spoil Christmas for Jan Christopher and her boyfriend DS Laurie Walker – or will it bring them closer together?

Jan Christopher is to spend Christmas 1971 with her boyfriend DS Laurie Walker and his parents who live in an old farmhouse in Devon. She’s not sure if she has made the right decision though...

WHEN DOUBTS ARISE?

The thought of driving all the way from London to Devon with my boyfriend, Laurie, for Christmas was exciting, but tinged with a smattering of reluctance. It would mean leaving my Uncle Toby and Aunt Madge, behind. I’d not had a Christmas or a New Year without them since they’d adopted me when I was orphaned at five years old. At almost nineteen, independence was knocking at the door, but all the same, I was concerned about leaving them for the duration of the festivities. Concerns which Aunt Madge soon put an end to.

“Goodness, Jan, we’ve been looking forward to a Christmas on our own for the past, I don’t know how many years!”

I wasn’t sure if she was being serious or joking.

They had taken me under their wing after Uncle Toby’s brother – my father, a Detective Inspector – had been shot dead, and my mother... well, she died soon after, but we never talked about that. All I know, she had been under severe mental strain from when my identical twin, June, died after an illness. I still resented June because she was the second born, and got the name ‘June’ for the month we were conceived. I got the name of the month we were prematurely born – January. Fortunately, everyone calls me Jan.

Uncle Toby’s response to my worries about Christmas was less blunt. “Laurie is already taking leave, so we can’t all be off on merry jaunts at the same time, Jan. The crime rate would soar, and Chingford Police wouldn’t cope.”

My uncle, in his working capacity, was Detective Chief Inspector Tobias Christopher. Laurie – Lawrence Walker – had recently been promoted to be his Detective Sergeant bagman. Two important people within the realm of law enforcement, although, I suspected that the North London suburban town of Chingford would survive without them both for a few days. There were, after all, other men (and a few women) in CID. Although, maybe these others were not as competent – but then, my opinion is severely biased.

For myself, I was quite happy to take several days off from working as an assistant in our local library. It was always busy in the run-up to Christmas closing, and while I would miss out on the boxes of chocolates and tins of buttery shortbread given to the staff by appreciative members of the public, my already too broad waistline would not suffer from it.

My main fear, however, was meeting Laurie’s parents. I had spoken to them on the telephone several times and they seemed nice, but I had been going out with Laurie since late July – would they assume that our relationship was becoming serious?

Come to that, did I assume it was serious? By accepting the invitation, was I committing myself to a possible life as a policeman’s wife? Or was I reading too much into things? I mean, spending Christmas with your boyfriend’s family didn’t mean a marriage proposal, did it? Or did it? Then there was the question, did I, or didn’t I, want it to mean just that? 

Had I known what was to happen soon after we arrived at Mr and Mrs Walker’s lovely old West Country house though, my apprehension would have dwindled to nothing.

A grisly murder was discovered, which somewhat tarnished the traditional jolly Christmas Spirit...

Read for free with #KindleUnlimited subscription.

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Helen Hollick and her family moved from north-east London in January 2013 after finding an eighteenth-century North Devon farm house through being a ‘victim’ on BBC TV’s popular Escape To The Country show. The thirteen-acre property was the first one she was shown – and it was love at first sight. She enjoys her new rural life, and has a variety of animals on the farm, including Exmoor ponies and her daughter’s string of show jumpers.

First accepted for publication by William Heinemann in 1993 – a week after her fortieth birthday – Helen then became a USA Today Bestseller with her historical novel, The Forever Queen (titled A Hollow Crown in the UK) with the sequel, Harold the King (US: I Am The Chosen King) being novels that explore the events that led to the Battle of Hastings in 1066. Her Pendragon’s Banner Trilogy is a fifth-century version of the Arthurian legend, and she also writes a pirate-based nautical adventure/fantasy series, The Sea Witch Voyages. Despite being impaired by the visual disorder of Glaucoma, she is also branching out into the quick read novella, 'Cosy Mystery' genre with the Jan Christopher Mysteries, set in the 1970s, with the first in the series, A Mirror Murder incorporating her, often hilarious, memories of working for thirteen years as a library assistant.

Her non-fiction books are Pirates: Truth and Tales and Life of A Smuggler. She also runs Discovering Diamonds, a review blog for historical fiction, a news and events blog for her village and the Community Shop, assists as ‘secretary for the day’ at her daughter’s regular showjumping shows – and occasionally gets time to write...

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The Coffee Pot Blog Tour presents _ Hidden Masterpiece: Soli Hansen Mysteries, Book 3

Book Title: Hidden Masterpiece

Series: (Soli Hansen Mysteries, Book 3)

Author: Heidi Eljarbo

Publication Date: 15th September 2021

Publisher: Independently Published

Page Length: 260 Pages

Genre: Historical Fiction, Historical Mystery, Dual Timeline

Follow the Tour Here: 

Hidden Masterpiece

(Soli Hansen Mysteries, Book 3)

By Heidi Eljarbo

In this riveting third book in the Soli Hansen Mysteries series, a woman’s courage to follow her conviction during a horrible war leads her to the portrait of a young Jewish heiress painted three centuries earlier.

Norway 1944. Art historian Soli Hansen has gone undercover to rescue masterpieces and keep them from falling into the hands of Nazi thieves. Working with a small resistance group led by her best friend Heddy, Soli will stop at nothing to thwart the efforts of the invaders of their scenic country. Trust and loyalty mean everything when working against a merciless enemy.

Riddles and clues lead the way to a mysterious work of art. It’s a race against time, but Soli and her network refuse to give up. However, when news arrives that her sweetheart Nikolai is missing in action, she strives to concentrate on the demanding quest.

From the streets of Oslo to the snow-covered mountains and medieval churches of Nume Valley, Soli takes risks larger than her courage, trying to preserve and hide precious art. But she must decide if it’s all worth losing the man she loves.

Antwerp 1639. Fabiola Ruber’s daughter, Annarosa, wants to honor her mother’s last wish and have her portrait done by a master artist who specializes in the art of chiaroscuro. Her uncle writes to an accomplished painter in Amsterdam and commissions him to paint his beloved niece.

Struggling with religious and social persecution, the Jewish Ruber family uproots once again and travels northward. On the way, they will sojourn in Amsterdam for Annarosa’s sitting in the master painter’s studio. But will they make it there? None of them can foresee the danger of such a journey.

This novel is available to read for free with #KindleUnlimited subscription. 

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Heidi Eljarbo is the bestselling author of historical fiction and mysteries filled with courageous and good characters that are easy to love and others you don't want to go near.

Heidi grew up in a home filled with books and artwork and she never truly imagined she would do anything other than write and paint. She studied art, languages, and history, all of which have come in handy when working as an author, magazine journalist, and painter.

After living in Canada, six US states, Japan, Switzerland, and Austria, Heidi now calls Norway home. She and her husband have a total of nine children, thirteen grandchildren—so far—in addition to a bouncy Wheaten Terrier.

Their favorite retreat is a mountain cabin, where they hike in the summertime and ski the vast, white terrain during winter.

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

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Jenny Knipfer stops by as part of her Coffee Pot Book Club Blog Tour!

Book Title: In a Grove of Maples

Series: Sheltering Trees: Book 1

Author: Jenny Knipfer

Publication Date: 1st July 2021

Publisher: Jenny Knipfer--Author

Page Length: 264 Pages

Genre: Historical Fiction, Christian Historical Fiction

In a Grove of Maples 

(Sheltering Trees: Book 1)

By Jenny Knipfer 

Audio Narrated By Jenn Lee

"... a heartfelt tale of the struggles of married life on a nineteenth-century farm. Edward and Beryl are both relatable and sympathetic. Knipfer expertly captures the emotion and stress of their lives and relationship. It’s a touching and realistic portrayal of love, loss, and friendship." Heather Stockard for Readers’ Favorite five-star review

A HISTORICAL NOVEL OF THE PERILS OF NEWLYWED LIFE ANDF ALL THAT COMES TO DIVIDE LOVERS

In 1897 newly married Beryl and Edward Massart travel more than one thousand miles from Quebec to farm a plot of land in Wisconsin that they bought sight-unseen. An almost magical grove of maples on their property inspires them to dream of a real home built within the grove, not the tiny log cabin they’ve come to live in. 

Misunderstandings and tempers get the better of them when difficulties and troubles arise. Just months after they wed, Edward leaves pregnant Beryl in the midst of the coming winter to tend the farm and animals while he goes to be a teamster at a northern Wisconsin logging camp. 

Will Beryl and Edward walk into the future together to build their house of dreams in the grove of maples, or will their plans topple like a house of sticks when the winds of misunderstanding and disaster strike?

Readers of Christian historical fiction, Historical fiction, Women’s fiction, and Christian historical romance will be endeared to this slice of late 19th century farm life.

Excerpt from In a Grove of Maples

“No! Oh, God . . . why? Why!” 

She dropped to her knees, hanging her head over her dead son, and the tears started. She sobbed and sobbed until his body was wet with her tears. Finally, Beryl breathed in deeply, dried Lyle’s chest off with the sleeve of her nightgown, and wrapped him back up. She walked back to the hearth and sat in her rocker with him before the fire, cradling him in her arms. She rocked on and on, mesmerized by the flames, her mind numb from reality. The chair creaked as she rocked, the clock ticked, and slow tears leaked from her eyes and thickened her throat, making her feel as if she were being choked. A faint taste of blood lingered in her mouth. 

Now I really am alone. 

Beryl sobbed again, and the need for another living, breathing body consumed her. She jumped up, still holding Lyle tightly in one arm, and ran to where the large, metal triangle and hammer hung from a nail in a log on the wall. Her fingers fiddled with the lock and latch before throwing the door of the cabin wide open. In her nightgown and stockinged feet, she was oblivious to the cold and the snow. Her long, loose hair served as a shawl around her shoulders. 

The sun lingered over the treetops to the east. She stepped out a few yards from the cabin and rang the triangle as best she could while she clutched Lyle with one arm. Snowflakes fluttered down from the sky like broken bits of cotton. 

Beryl hoped Nola and Paul would hear and come help her as they had promised. She rang the triangle with the hammer over and over until her arm hurt from the ringing. She dropped it, and the triangle fell from her hand into the snow. She followed. 

Huddled in the snow with only her sleepwear on, Beryl clutched Lyle to her chest, wishing she could transfer her heartbeat to him and her breath to his lungs. 

“Please come soon. Please come soon,” she chanted over and over again as she rocked on her knees, not caring how they stung in pain from the cold. 

Let them sting. The pain could never equal the wound which had entered her soul when Lyle had slipped away. 

Accusations cropped up in her thoughts. I should have checked on him before; I should have known something was wrong; I should have taken better care of him!! 

Beryl nestled her lips close to the tender spot behind Lyle’s ear and kissed him. She breathed in the scent of him—powdery and soft, like the promise of spring rain—and keened quietly into the crook of his neck. 

A sudden thought crushed her even more. Edward will never get to hold his son! 

That realization killed her, and Beryl grieved for her husband and all they had lost, while the snow continued to fall thickly around her. 

Read FREE on Kindle Unlimited

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Jenny Knipfer lives in Wisconsin with her husband, Ken, and their pet Yorkie, Ruby. She is also a mom and loves being a grandma. She enjoys many creative pursuits but finds writing the most fulfilling.

Spending many years as a librarian in a local public library, Jenny recently switched to using her skills as a floral designer in a retail flower shop. She is now retired from work due to disability. Her education background stems from psychology, music, and cultural missions.

She holds membership in the: Midwest Independent Booksellers Association, Wisconsin Writers Association, Christian Indie Publishing Association, and Independent Book Publishers Association.

Jenny’s favorite place to relax is by the western shore of Lake Superior, where her novel series, By The Light of the Moon, is set. A new historical fiction, four-part series entitled, Sheltering Trees, will be released in 2021 and 2022. Jenny is currently writing a novella series entitled, Botanical Seasons. 

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Amy Maroney's Coffee Pot Book Club Blog Tour continues with an excerpt from Island of Gold (Sea and Stone Chronicles)

Book Title: Island of Gold

Series: Sea and Stone Chronicles

Author: Amy Maroney

Publication Date: September 8, 2021

Publisher: Artelan Press

Page Length: 380 Pages

Genre: Historical Adventure and Romance

 Follow the Tour!

Island of Gold 

(Sea and Stone Chronicles)

By Amy Maroney

1454. A noble French falconer. A spirited merchant’s daughter. And a fateful decision that changes their destiny forever.

 When Cédric is recruited by the Knights Hospitaller to the Greek island of Rhodes, his wife Sophie jumps at the chance to improve their fortunes. After a harrowing journey to Rhodes, Cédric plunges into the world of the knights—while Sophie is tempted by the endless riches that flow into the bustling harbor. But their dazzling new home has a dark side. 

Slaves toil endlessly to fortify the city walls, and rumors of a coming attack by the Ottoman Turks swirl in the streets. Desperate to gain favor with the knights and secure his position, Cédric navigates a treacherous world of shadowy alliances. Meanwhile, Sophie secretly engineers a bold plan to keep their children safe. As the trust between them frays, enemies close in—and when disaster strikes the island, the dangers of their new world become terrifyingly real. 

  With this richly-told story of adventure, treachery, and the redeeming power of love, Amy Maroney brings a mesmerizing and forgotten world to vivid life.

Read an Excerpt

Spring, 1440

Bruges, Flanders

The Portier family entered the church one by one. The warm, stale air smelled faintly of beeswax. Sophie followed Papa, Maman, and Grégoire down the main aisle of the nave to their appointed spot, about three-quarters of the way back from the altar. Behind the altar a three-paneled painting of saints and angels was affixed to the stone wall. Above it, a round window made of colorful stained glass let in filtered sunlight. Sophie stared up at it, mesmerized by the beauty. Ensconced between her parents, she did not hear Cédric de Montavon slip into the pew. Her family’s murmured greetings to him brought her back to the moment. She turned her head and met the falconer’s eyes.

He nodded at her in silence as he took his seat. Flushing, she lowered her eyelids. When she raised them again, he was still looking her way, a faint expression of surprise on his face. She was accustomed to seeing that expression on a man’s face when he first encountered her. Papa took great pride in the attention she attracted.

Like moths to a flame, he often said.

Usually, Sophie found the attention of men annoying. But this time, she felt a powerful tug of attraction. The heat in her throat and cheeks swept into her chest, then settled languidly just above her hips.

The priest began to speak. The familiar Latin words of Mass soon lulled her into a stupor. For a while she trained her eyes on the rosy light spilling forth from the stained glass window above the altar. Then she tried glimpsing Cédric de Montavon from the corner of her eye without turning her head.

She could see the falconer’s fine black leather boots, the dark green hose he wore, his hands resting on his thighs. His slender, sun-browned fingers were a stark contrast to her father’s plump white ones.

The priest droned on and on. She prayed for Mass to end.

Finally, it did. They all stood and filed back down the aisle through the tall doors of the church to the sunlit square beyond. It was a crisp spring day, with a gentle breeze that whispered over her cheeks. Sophie stood with Maman. They discussed the Flemish ladies’ elaborate head coverings, the fine drape of their cloaks, the foreign sounds of their language drifting overhead. Gregoire and the falconer chatted with Papa about business matters, about trade and war and commerce and tariffs.

Several merchants joined them, their attention focused on Monsieur de Montavon. They peppered him with questions about falcons and his work for the count. Sophie watched him respond, admiring his confident manner, the strong line of his jaw, the hard angles of his cheekbones. She stared at his well-formed lips, at his short, carefully-trimmed beard.

“Sophie,” Maman said. “Did you not hear Monsieur de Montavon?”

She scrambled to find her voice, feeling oddly shy.

“Forgive me, sir,” she murmured. “What was your question?”

“How do you find Bruges, mademoiselle?” he asked. “Is it to your liking?”

His brown velvet doublet was criss-crossed with green silk thread embroidered in a diamond-shaped pattern. She was struck with an impulse to run her fingers across the raised ridges of the thread.

“I have lost my heart to Bruges,” she admitted, favoring him with a smile. “I would like to come back every year. It’s a beautiful city, not like Toulouse at all.”

“And what is wrong with Toulouse?” Papa said, pretending to be hurt, but with a mocking gleam in his eyes.

While there were a few rich pastel merchants like him in Toulouse, the city of Sophie’s birth was essentially an overgrown farm town riddled with abandoned and decaying buildings, still not entirely recovered from the plague that had ravaged the world a few generations ago.

“Papa,” she laughed. “How can we compare the two? It is like comparing a stone with a pearl.”

Papa grinned. “Too true, my child. There are treasures to be found here and nowhere else. Like gyrfalcons.” He glanced meaningfully at Monsieur de Montavon.

“Indeed,” the falconer replied.

“Gyrfalcons!” a merchant cried. “Why, aren’t they the most costly birds on earth?”

Monsieur de Montavon shrugged. “It depends on the age of the bird, the color of its feathers, the condition of its health.”

“What color feathers are best, monsieur?” Sophie asked.

“White gyrfalcons are the most coveted,” the falconer responded. His eyes were brown, with flecks of green and gold that caught the light. “After the molt, of course, the feathers can change color. So a bird that begins gray can turn white. But one never knows if it will.”

Grégoire pointed at the doors of the church. “Look there. Isn’t that the Catalan we saw on the Norwegian’s ship?”

Sophie watched a dark-haired man with a short beard emerge from church in the company of two other well-dressed gentlemen.

“Yes,” Papa concurred. “One and the same.”

Perhaps sensing the eyes upon him, the Catalan glanced their way. For the second time in one day, Sophie felt the curious prickling sensation of attraction under a man’s scrutiny. He was nearly as handsome as the falconer, and more elegantly dressed.

“We were gaming on a Norwegian’s ship and met that man, an agent of the Knights Hospitaller,” Grégoire told the gathered men. “He was buying gyrfalcons for someone of great rank.”

“Perhaps the King of Cyprus,” mused Papa. “Imagine having a friend connected to the Cypriot court. The trade in camlets and cloth of gold would open up to us immediately.”

“Cloth of gold has gotten harder and harder to find,” one of the merchants complained. “The Genoese had a steady trade in it for a time, but pirates have made a mess of the shipping lanes in Greece. Sometimes Venetian merchants show up here with a few bolts, but the price!”

“Outrageous,” Papa agreed. “I’ve a mind to hire a gold-beater or two, set up an atelier, and make the blasted stuff myself.”

The men launched into a discussion about cloth prices and the perils of maritime shipping. Sophie had heard versions of this conversation too many times to count. Luckily, she stood directly opposite Monsieur de Montavon and had an unobstructed view of his face. He seemed distracted by the presence of the Catalan. He glanced at the man repeatedly. Then his expression tightened as the Catalan and his companions moved toward their group.

“We never had a chance to be properly introduced,” the man said in French, sweeping into a polite bow. “Those business transactions leave little time for pleasantries.” He looked straight at the falconer. “Your name, sir?”

The falconer gave a shallow bow. “Cédric de Montavon. And yours?”

“Nicolau Baldaia.” The Catalan turned to Sophie’s father expectantly.

“Henri Portier, at your service, sir,” Papa said. “And my son, Grégoire.”

The Catalan nodded at them both, then looked at Maman. “Madame Portier, I am honored to meet you,” he said without waiting for an introduction. His eyes slid to Sophie. “And who is this?”

“Our daughter, Sophie,” Maman said, hooking an arm around Sophie’s waist.

The gesture should have felt reassuring, but instead Sophie felt trapped. The Catalan’s bold stare was oddly possessive, as if just with a look he had taken ownership of her. A fragment of fear penetrated her consciousness. She longed to escape the Catalan’s inspection.

Fortunately, the merchants began to lob questions at him about his work for the knights, about news from Rhodes, about trade in far-off ports like Alexandria and Famagusta. Relieved, Sophie let her eyes drift back to the falconer just as he looked in her direction, his lips quirking in a slight smile.

Her heart thrashing like an eel in a basket, Sophie smiled in return.

This novel is available on #KindleUnlimited

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Amy Maroney lives in the Pacific Northwest with her family, and spent many years as a writer and editor of nonfiction before turning her hand to historical fiction. When she's not diving down research rabbit holes, she enjoys hiking, dancing, traveling, and reading. Amy is the author of the Miramonde Series, a trilogy about a Renaissance-era female artist and the modern-day scholar on her trail. To receive a free prequel novella to the Miramonde Series, join Amy's readers' group at www.amymaroney.com. 

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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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