Tag Archives: historical fiction

BOOK TOUR & INTERVIEW: The Delafield and Mallow Investigations by Trish MacEnulty #historicalfiction #historicalmysteries @cathiedunn

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The Whispering Women, Book #1, A Delafield & Malloy Investigation

The Burning Bride, Book #2, A Delafield & Malloy Investigation

Secrets and Spies, Book #3, A Delafield & Malloy Investigation

by Trish MacEnulty

About the Book

“Richly drawn characters, the vibrant historical setting, and a suspenseful mystery create a strong current that pulls readers into this delightful novel. But it’s the women’s issues—as relevant today as they were in the early 1900s—that will linger long after the last page.”

— Donna S. Meredith, The Southern Literary Review

Can two women get the lowdown on high society?

“Two powerless young women must navigate a soul-crushing class system and find the levers of power they wield when they combine their strengths. These women may have been taught to whisper, but when their time comes, they will roar.”

– 5 Star Amazon Review

Louisa Delafield and Ellen Malloy didn’t ask to be thrown together to bring the truth to light. But after Ellen witnesses the death of a fellow servant during an illegal abortion, Louisa, a society columnist, vows to help her find the truth and turn her journalistic talent to a greater purpose.

Together, these unlikely allies battle to get the truth out, and to avenge the wrongful death of a friend.

What will our heroes do when their closest allies and those they trust turn out to be the very forces working to keep their story in the dark? They’ll face an abortionist, a sex trafficking ring, and a corrupt system determined to keep the truth at bay.

“If you like historical fiction and if you like mysteries, this one is for you!”

– 5 Star Amazon Review

Was change possible in 1913?

To find out, read THE WHISPERING WOMEN today!

GET THE BOOKS

The books in this series are available to read on Kindle Unlimited.

Universal Link:  https://books2read.com/u/47Vrla

Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Whispering-Women-Delafield-Malloy-Investigation/dp/1737575175/  

Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/Whispering-Women-Delafield-Malloy-Investigation-ebook/dp/B0B9W2WG8T/

Amazon CA: https://www.amazon.ca/Whispering-Women-Delafield-Malloy-Investigation-ebook/dp/B0B9W2WG8T/

Amazon AU: https://www.amazon.com.au/Whispering-Women-Delafield-Malloy-Investigation-ebook/dp/B0B9W2WG8T/

Barnes and Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-whispering-women-trish-macenulty/1142117381?ean=9781737575177

INTERVIEW WITH THE AUTHOR

Often writers started out as readers. Was there a particular book that inspired you to be an author?

I loved books as a child. One of my favorites was Eloise, and I sometimes think I got my spare style from those books. I also remember being immersed in The Jungle Book, The Black Stallion and the Albert Payson Terhune books about collies. I’d love to think my books might create that feeling of being immersed in another world.

Do you tend to read the same genre you write?

Yes. Sometimes for research or review purposes, and sometimes for sheer enjoyment. Outside of historical fiction, I also love thrillers. I’m a fan of Michael Connelly and Thomas Perry. Occasionally a fantasy novel (for example, Six of Crows) will enthrall me.

Do you have a favorite time period to write about? If so, why?

So far I’ve been writing about the earlier 20th century, which I like because it has the perfect balance of unfamiliar and familiar. It’s fairly easy to research the era since it’s not so long ago. I was even able to find film footage of a few important events (i.e. the boarding of The Lusitania!). But it’s far enough in the past that many of the stories are not well known. I had no idea, for example, how prevalent gang activity continued to be into the early 20th Century in New York. And this was before prohibition.

Writers sometimes have furry, feathered, or scaled helpers. Do you have a writing companion?

I have three — one cat and two dogs! The little dog and the cat vie to be on my lap which can make writing difficult. The best thing the dogs do for me is get me out of the house every day and into nature for a half hour or so. So necessary for my mental health!

How long have you been writing, and how long did it take before your first book was published?

I have always wanted to be a writer. In college I wrote for the student newspaper. After college, I worked for a film production company writing scripts. Then I wrote for a newsletter company. Eventually I wound up back in journalism. I also won some screenwriting awards during that time. Finally, I went back to graduate school and published short stories. My first novel came out in 2000 when I was 45.

Do you have a routine you follow when you’re working on a book? A certain time of day when you write, or a snack you keep nearby?

I usually write every morning until noon or 1, when I take a yoga or pilates class. Afternoons are for editing, marketing, dog walking, reading, and napping. As for a snack, I recently started roasting walnuts. So yummy. 

Did anyone give you writing advice when you were first getting started? Do you think it helped?

It’s not so much advice that helped me. It was the encouragement. Several teachers validated my writing, and that made me want to keep going. My first writing teacher was Harry Crews, and when he invited me to join his graduate workshops while I was still an undergraduate, that gave me a big boost of confidence. My second writing teacher, Lynda Schor, was hugely significant to me. We are friends to this day. 

What is the scariest thing you face as a writer? How do you handle it?

Well, we all have to make a living, so for years I was a college professor. During that time, my creative energy went into my teaching, and I worried I would never be able to devote my time and energy to writing, but I worked hard and saved, and now I’m living my dream. 

If you could pick your top 3 favorite books of all time, what would they be?

Crime and Punishment by Dostoevsky

To the Lighthouse by Virginia Wolfe

The Jungle Book by Rudyard Kipling

Of course, as soon as I wrote those titles, I thought, Wait! What about Toni Morrison, Jane Austen, Jack London, Robert Louis Stephenson, Ralph Ellison as well as historical fiction authors Kristin Hannah, Kate Quinn, Madeline Martin, Libby Grant, Amor Towles, Robert Olen Butler, and so many others who have impacted my life with their stories! Truly, I can’t pick just three. 

Does your family support your writing?

My husband is absolutely the most supportive person I could possibly have in my life — financially, emotionally, and technically. And my daughter has always believed in me. (She didn’t even complain about being in my memoir, Wait Until Tomorrow!)

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Trish MacEnulty is a bestselling novelist. In addition to her historical fiction, she has published novels, a short story collection, and a memoir. A former Professor of English, she currently lives in Florida with her husband, two dogs, and one cat. She writes book reviews and feature articles for the Historical Novel Review. She loves reading, writing, walking with her dogs, streaming historical series, cooking, and dancing.

Find her Online:

Website: https://trishmacenulty.com

Twitter: https://twitter.com/pmacenulty

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100055362621397

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/trishmac_historicalfiction/

Book Bub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/trish-macenulty

Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/stores/Trish-MacEnulty/author/B01G4A797G

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/15085884.Trish_MacEnulty

BOOK TOUR: The Very Dead of Winter by Miles Watson #HistoricalFiction @RABTBookTours @themileswatson

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A Sinner’s Cross Novel, Book 2

Historical Fiction

Date Published: 07-04-2022

Publisher: One Nine Books

 

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On the eve of what will be known as The Battle of the Bulge, the survivors
of Sinner’s Cross are scattered all over Europe. Halleck, the tough Texan
who drives men like cattle, finds himself surrounded in the snow-blanketed
forests of the Eifel Mountains riding herd on greenhorn soldiers; Breese,
the phony hero with a chip on his shoulder the size of Rushmore, embarks on
a bloody mission of redemption behind enemy lines; Cramm, the one-eyed,
one-armed German staff officer, tries to balance duty against his lust for
vengeance against those who crippled him. Three men separated by war will
once again converge… in The Very Dead of Winter.

Winner of the Literary Titan Gold Medal and the Pinnacle Book Achievement
Award.

Excerpt

Walking with the careful, foot-weary step of convalescents or the elderly, the two men started through the rubble-choked streets for the Regimental command post. King patted all of his pockets for gum, a process that took perhaps a minute and involved the shifting around of his sling, bandolier, and several pineapple grenades, but he came up empty. “Sometimes I wish I smoked,” he said ruefully.

“Dirty habit. Never cottoned to it myself. Besides, a man who don’t smoke can always do a little horse-tradin’ with his ration.”

“And here I was, just giving those Chesterfields away like a sucker.” King fell silent for perhaps a minute. Another buzz bomb scudded overhead; both men screwed up their faces at the hideous noise of its engine, but neither raised their gaze. It required too much energy. When the sound of it had faded, the lieutenant said, “What the fuck are we doing here, Top?”

“In Europe? Well, I dunno about you, but I got this funny letter from the President sayin’ that I had to report to the courthouse so they could swear me in as a soldier, and next thing I knew—”

“Funny guy. You always joke after a battle?”

“It beats bawlin’.”

“I’m not so sure.”

“You handled yourself pretty good back there.” Better than I did, goddamn it.

“I got us ambushed.”

“You were just along for the ride, Lieutenant. The teedee captain in the lead tank was the one to blame, if anybody is; and he’s dead, so there ain’t no sense blamin’ him. But hell, if you got the need, blame the Krauts; they’re the ones’t killed him.”

“You see things real clearly, don’t you?”

“You want to say ‘simply’ you just come on out and say it. But for the record, I don’t see as how complicatin’ things helps anybody. A man’s got a problem, he goes to a buddy, or a preacher, or maybe his barkeep; he don’t go to his grandma’s sewin’ circle. One question needs one answer.”

“Now that is simple.”

“Simple ain’t necessarily bad, and it sure as hell ain’t necessarily wrong. There ain’t no maybe on a light switch.”

About the Author

Miles Watson is the x15 award-winning author of the CAGE LIFE and SINNER’S
CROSS book series as well as the short story collection DEVIL’S YOU KNOW. A
veteran of both Hollywood and law enforcement, his first and last passion is
writing, and he intends to publish in every genre before he cashes in his
chips.

Contact Links

Website

Twitter

Blog

Goodreads

Instagram

IMDB

 

Purchase Link

Amazon

 

 

 

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RABT Book Tours & PR

BOOK TOUR: Sisters of Castle Leod by Elizabeth Hutchison Bernard #HistoricalFiction @EHBernardAuthor @cathiedunn

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Sisters of Castle Leod: A Novel

by Elizabeth Hutchison Bernard

**Finalist in the 2022 American Writing Awards**

Millions are fans of Diana Gabaldon’s popular Outlander books and television series, but few know that Gabaldon’s fictional Castle Leoch was inspired by a real Scottish castle, Castle Leod. The two sisters who lived there at the turn of the twentieth century were among the most fascinating and talked-about women of their era. 

Lady Sibell Mackenzie is a spiritualist, a believer in reincarnation, and a popular author of mystical romances. Petite and proper, she values tradition and duty. Her younger sister Lady Constance, swimming champion and big game hunter, is a statuesque beauty who scandalizes British society with her public displays of Greek-style barefoot dancing. The differences between the sisters escalate into conflict after Sibell inherits their late father’s vast estates and the title 3rd Countess of Cromartie. But it is the birth of Sibell’s daughter that sets in motion a series of bizarre and tragic events, pitting sister against sister and propelling Sibell on a desperate mission to challenge the power of fate. 

Sisters of Castle Leod, by award-winning author Elizabeth Hutchison Bernard, is the emotionally charged story of two sisters torn apart by jealousy and superstition, and the impossible leap of faith that could finally bring them together.

Buy Links:

This title will be available on #KindleUnlimited.

Universal Link: https://books2read.com/u/3RzAJY

Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Sisters-Castle-Elizabeth-Hutchison-Bernard-ebook/dp/B0BG36NZK5/

Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/Sisters-Castle-Elizabeth-Hutchison-Bernard-ebook/dp/B0BG36NZK5/

Amazon CA: https://www.amazon.ca/Sisters-Castle-Elizabeth-Hutchison-Bernard-ebook/dp/B0BG36NZK5/

Amazon AU: https://www.amazon.com.au/Sisters-Castle-Elizabeth-Hutchison-Bernard-ebook/dp/B0BG36NZK5/

Barnes and Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/sisters-of-castle-leod-elizabeth-hutchison-bernard/1142204809?ean=9781685130626

Excerpt

DAWN OF UNDERSTANDING

From across the street, we saw Constance exit her private car in front of the theater. Her outfit had a distinctly Japanese flair, a long, loose-fitting brown robe gathered at the waist with slits up each side. In a Bohemian way, she looked quite stylish. Half a dozen photographers surrounded her as she swept across the sidewalk to the entrance.

Edward and I remained in our taxi, watching a line forming outside the box office. Our seats had been reserved in advance. We planned to claim them at the last moment, after the lights had dimmed.

“This will be the first time you’ve seen Constance dance. Do you think your heart can take it?” I said, trying to lighten our otherwise somber mood. Neither of us was looking forward to confronting her after the show, but how else were we to find out anything? If, at first, I’d doubted that she and Austin could really be in such dire financial straits, I didn’t any longer. Selling that necklace, as I now felt sure she’d done, had to have been a last resort.

Edward patted my hand reassuringly. “If it’s too much for me, I’ll close my eyes and take a little snooze. But I don’t see why we have to sit through her performance. We could have arranged to speak to her afterwards.”

“You’re not in the least bit curious about her dancing? If one can look past her skimpy costume, I’m sure there’s much to appreciate.”

“Don’t you suppose the entire audience will be looking past her costume? That is what it’s designed for.”

I rolled my eyes. “Very amusing. Remember, we will not lecture her about propriety or anything of the sort. If we do, she’ll never open up to us. Our purpose is to see how we might assist her and Austin to get back on their feet.”

“First, we need to understand how their situation came about to start with. Constance had a tidy sum in her dowry when she married, and, to all appearances, Austin was a prosperous landowner.”

“Don’t we know plenty of people accustomed to being wealthy who’d rather die than admit they no longer are?”

“That’s not my point. I’m talking about the possibility of a deeper problem …”

“Such as?”

He grimaced slightly. “Lots of things can cause people to spend more money than they have. All I’m saying, Sibell, is that before you hand over any sizeable sum to bail them out, you’d better be sure they’re going to use it appropriately.”

He was right. Many a young nobleman had frittered away his fortune on some secret addiction. But how likely was Constance to admit the root of their problem if, indeed, it was something heinous? “Let’s not speculate. We’ll find out what we can and, hopefully, figure out the rest. And say nothing about the necklace. It would only make Constance feel we’d been spying on her. I know exactly how she’d react. Clam up in an instant, and we wouldn’t get another word out of her.”

“The necklace is another problem. We’ll need to solve that one ourselves. If that young fellow, Khoury, thinks he can manipulate us into paying twice what the piece is worth, he’s sorely mistaken.”

For a split second, I considered telling him everything. Asking him to accompany me to the jewelry store tomorrow so we could present a united front against Demetrius’s demands, whatever they might be. But I couldn’t bring myself to do it, for fear he might sense what I wished not to admit even to myself. My attraction to Demetrius had not diminished with the years. Though I no longer questioned my devotion to Edward, how could I explain away this feeling that still haunted me? The belief that my soul was bound to another.

Whether or not I wanted it to be.

*

The intertwined melodies of two flutes signaled the velvet curtain’s rise, revealing a backdrop of lush woodland crowned by a glowing silver orb. A painted prop, yet the setting reminded me of home and how much I missed it. How I would have loved to pluck my sister from among the tall, faceless buildings of New York City and drop her onto the windswept moors of Ross-shire, where both of us belonged! I wished I could know if she regretted the decisions she’d made. Might she long to return to life the way it was, before she’d decided that her duty was to scandalize the civilized world?

Was she simply too stubborn to admit her mistake?

My sister’s sudden entrance onto the stage, pirouetting across the floor with her arms in a graceful arc above her head, elicited a collective gasp from the crowd. Though one couldn’t see everything through the gauzy film of her diaphanous robe, what could not be seen was easily imagined. A wave of whispered chatter was followed by a smattering of hoots and calls, the latter leaving little doubt as to why some members of the audience had come. Yes, Constance was beautiful, as perfect a womanly figure as nature had ever created. She continued her dance, whirling about the stage in a self-induced trance, veils flowing, bare feet flying, and I was mesmerized. But what I saw was surely different from everyone else. I was watching a soul take flight.

Unprepared for the plethora of emotions that flooded over me, what I felt most keenly was guilt. I should have listened, from the beginning, when she tried explaining herself to me—when she talked about beauty and what it means and how she wanted to teach others by example. But I’d brushed her off as brash and egotistical. Was her desire to dance so different from my desire to write? Despite critics who called my pagan-inspired tales shocking, I kept on. Writing had become one of the few things in life about which I was unwilling to compromise.

Wasn’t Constance entitled to feel the same about dancing?

Violins, like a rush of wind, swelled and died, and then out of the silence came again the plaintive melody of the flutes, beckoning the dancer along a woodland path. One by one, other instruments joined in and, as they did, her dance became more exuberant, her moves more daring. A gazelle-like leap, then spinning with arms outstretched, head thrown back, gazing at the multitude of stars in her imaginary sky. Round and round, faster and faster. I stared in wonderment. How could anyone do that and not become impossibly dizzy? But, of course, this was my sister, the consummate athlete. Master of every physical challenge. Champion of every sport she’d ever tried. My God, I was proud of her!

And then it happened.

Elizabeth Hutchison Bernard

A former touring musician/songwriter and public relations professional, Elizabeth Hutchison Bernard is the author of two Amazon bestsellers: THE BEAUTY DOCTOR, “a compelling historical novel steeped in mystery with strong elements of a medical thriller” (Readers’ Favorite, 5 stars), and TEMPTATION RAG: A NOVEL, a “resonant novel … about the birth and demise of ragtime … luxuriously crafted” (Publishers Weekly). Her books have been finalists for the Eric Hoffer Book Award, National Indie Excellence Awards, and Arizona Literary Contest; they have received 5-star ratings from Readers” Favorite, Book Readers Appreciation Group, and historical fiction Discovered Diamonds. Elizabeth and her family live near Phoenix, Arizona.

Social Media Links:

Website: www.EHBernard.com

Twitter: https://www.twitter.com/EHBernardAuthor

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

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/EHBernardAuthor

Book Bub: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/elizabeth-hutchison-bernard

Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/Elizabeth-Hutchison-Bernard/e/B072N681MZ?ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_1&qid=1659992216&sr=8-1

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/16953486.Elizabeth_Hutchison_Bernard

BOOK TOUR: That Dickinson Girl by Joan Koster #HistoricalFiction @womenwewrite @cathiedunn

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That Dickinson Girl

by Joan Koster

SHE IS GOING TO BE THE GREATEST ORATOR OF THE CIVIL WAR

Eighteen-year-old Anna Dickinson is nothing like the women around her, and she knows it. Gifted with a powerful voice, a razor-sharp wit, and unbounded energy, the diminutive curlyhead sets out to surpass the men of her day as she rails against slavery and pushes for women’s rights. Only two things can bring her downfall—the entangling love she has for her devoted companion, Julia, and an assassin’s bullet.

Forced to accompany the fiery young orator on her speaking tour of New England, Julia Pennington fights her growing attraction to the ever more popular celebrity. When a traitor sets out to assassinate Anna, Julia must risk her life to save her.

Loosely based on the life of forgotten orator, feminist, and lesbian, Anna Dickinson, That Dickinson Girl is the story of one woman’s rise to fame and fortune at the expense of love during the political and social turmoil of the American Civil War.

An earlier version of That Dickinson Girl was a finalist in the Mslexia Novel Competition.

Buy Links:

Universal Buy Link: https://books2read.com/That-Dickinson-Girl

Amazon US:   https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BKT7DJQ5

Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/That-Dickinson-Girl-Novel-Forgotten-ebook/dp/B0BKT7DJQ5

Amazon CA: https://www.amazon.ca/That-Dickinson-Girl-Novel-Forgotten-ebook/dp/B0BKT7DJQ5

Amazon AU:  https://www.amazon.com.au/That-Dickinson-Girl-Novel-Forgotten-ebook/dp/B0BKT7DJQ5

Signed Paperback: https://joankoster.com/signed-copy-of-that-dickinson-girl

Barnes & Noble:  https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/that-dickinson-girl-joan-koster/1142596073

iTunes: https://books.apple.com/us/book/that-dickinson-girl/id6444222406

Kobo:  https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/that-dickinson-girl

Google Play: https://play.google.com/store/books/details/Joan_Koster_That_Dickinson_Girl?id=8Z-YEAAAQBAJ

Excerpt

That Dickinson Girl by Joan Koster Chapter 27 Excerpt 3

Half an hour later, Anna gave her signature bow and released the shivers she’d stoppered inside. They’d survived another day.

“You shortened the speech,” Julia said, hastening to her with her shawl and coat.

“Bah. Their minuscule brains couldn’t handle more.” Julia helped her into her coat. Anna buttoned it up. “I am getting tired of facing down these Copperhead snakes at every speech.” She glanced at Julia. The girl’s lips were blue with cold. “Let’s find you a nice warm fire.”

“There should be one at the hotel.” Julia tugged on her cape and draped Anna’s shawl over her shoulders.

Anna looped arms with her, and together they walked out of the church. On the threshold, they halted under the sheltering overhang. Rain still poured down. From the mountain of coal waste shadowing the town, a froth of gray black culm ran down the road and gathered around the step. Anna clamped her teeth together and slowly lifted her skirts.

“Wait.” A hand brushed her sleeve.

“Yes?” She turned and discovered a man shorter than herself peering up at her. Wrapped in a plaid cloth, he stood round-shouldered, his face a patchwork of leathery skin, gray eyes, and grizzled beard.

“Dear lady, I’d come to curse you, I did. I firmly believe a woman’s place is in the home. Well, but now I’ve aheard you, and I think surely God has sent you, an angel out of heaven, to fight for justice.”

He paused, his tongue sweeping over his lips, as if testing to see if the words were really his. “Ain’t an educated man. Ain’t seen the world. Spent my days in the dark well of the mine where thinking too hard puts you on the blacklist. But believe me; I never heard anyone speak like you did today. You’re not like those politicians. Heard you punch out at evil and wrong. Heard you agree that allowing the rich to pay their way out of the draft is unfair.”

He looked away, not at the town, but at the sky. “You should understand why we’re angry. The miners here, when they’re drafted, their little boys and their old, bent fathers must go into the mine to keep food on the table. But today, you’ve made me see a broader view—why we must win this war.”

He scowled. “But miss, I envy the slave and the soldier lucky to have your voice speaking out for them. So, I made a prayer back there to God.” He pointed back inside the church. “Someday … someday soon, when the war be done and over, you come back here and use that voice from the angels to fight for a better life for us miners. Will you please?”

“Justice is my mission. Worker’s rights, people’s rights, my cause.” Anna put a hand on either side of his head, bent over, and bestowed a kiss on his pate. She straightened up. “When I return, I will visit your—”

Splat.

Wood splintered behind her.

Anna spun around and slapped at her hair.

A look of horror flashed across the miner’s face. “Down.” He dropped to the ground and crawled back into the church.

“Get down,” Julia echoed and thrust Anna onto the muddy steps, covering her body with hers. “Someone shot at you.”

“No. Let me up.” Anna rolled out from under Julia’s weight and staggered to her feet. “I will not cower.”

Another shot passed over her head and struck the frame of the church door. Chips of molding flew up like startled birds. The noise reverberated off the clapboard houses that tipped up and down the street and echoed through the hills.

Her body went numb with the sound then rebounded like a soldier under fire, full of heat, primed to kill or to run. Anna squinted into the rain, searching for her attacker, aware that she and Julia stood exposed. She called out, her voice sharper than any saber, “Cowards! Hiding behind a gun. Come out and face me.” She spread her arms out wide and descended the steps. If they thought she would turn and flee, she’d never be allowed on the platform again. No one worshipped a victim. “Are you afraid of me? A girl?”

About the Author:

When she is not writing in her studio by the sea, Joan Koster lives with her historian husband and a coon cat named Cleo in an 1860s farmhouse stacked to the ceiling with books. In a life full of adventures, she has scaled mountains, chased sheep, and been abandoned on an island for longer than she wants to remember.

An award-winning author who loves mentoring writers, Joan blends her love of history, and romance, into historical novels about women who shouldn’t be forgotten and into romantic thrillers under the pen name, Zara West. She is the author of the award-winning romantic suspense series The Skin Quartet and the top-selling Write for Success series.

Joan blogs at JoanKoster.com, Women Words and Wisdom, American Civil War Voice, Zara West Romance, and Zara West’s Journal and teaches numerous online writing courses.

Social Media Links:

Website: https://joankoster.com

Amazon Author Page:  https://www.amazon.com/Joan-Bouza-Koster/e/B001HMM9VI

Newsletter Sign Up: https://www.joankoster.com/tidbits-newsletter-sign-up/

BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/joan-bouza-koster

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/3989103.Joan_Bouza_Koster

Facebook: https://facebook.com/joankosterauthor/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/womenwewrite

Pinterest: https://pinterest.com/joankosterauthor

Instagram: https://instagram.com/joankosterauthor

ResearchGate: https://www.researchgate.net/profile/Joan-Koster

LinkedIn:  https://www.linkedin.com/in/joankosterauthor/   

YouTube:  https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC7Vc5_q59l7Z4jPxE6MwYhg

GOODREADS book link: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/63126355-that-dickinson-girl

BOOK BLITZ: Of Lessons Lost by Fred Snyder #HistoricalFiction @RABTBookTours

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Historical Fiction

Date Published: November 4, 2022

This fast paced novel opens with brothers Yaakov and Lazer’s daring escape
from the back of a Nazi vehicle en route to their execution in occupied
Poland. Surviving alone in the woods until the war ends, the brothers return
to their hometown in search of Wilus Chomelstien, the mayor that had
informed the Germans of their plans to organize an armed resistance. The
brothers want Wilus to pay for his disloyalty. But the outcome of their
meeting with Wilus will haunt them and their descendants far into the
future.

 

 

About the Author

 

I am a retired senior executive for a fortune 100 company. Years ago my
first novel (Ezekiel’s Vision) was launched via a conventional book
publisher.  My new self-published novel is titled: OF LESSONS
LOST.

Purchase Link

Amazon

RABT Book Tours & PR

BOOK TOUR: In the Mood by M.W. Arnold #mystery #historicalfiction @mick859

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This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. M W Arnold will be awarding a $10 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

During a hectic couple of weeks in February 1944, the girls of the Air Transport Auxiliary Mystery Club must face devastating personal loss amongst their number. A member of an illegal faction blackmails Betty, whilst a mystery at Mary’s ancestral home threatens to cause more trouble than anyone thought possible. In the midst of what should be the happiest of times, the portents seem to be catching up and little is what it seems to be. Can the girls find the strength to battle forces both internal and external, yet still maintain their dignity and friendship?

Read an Excerpt

After lowering the shoebox into the newly dug hole behind Riverview Cottage, Walter stood up straight again.

“Over to you, Ruth,” he said, bowing his head.

Ruth nodded, bowed her head, and clasped her hands before her. “Dear Lord, in whom we trust and worship, accept this, a symbolic foot, to your mercy. Look over my son in his time of need, all his friends, and the subjects of His Majesty, King George the Sixth. Amen.”

“Amen,” Walter echoed and handed Ruth a trowel.

Bending down, Ruth shoveled some dirt over the box before passing the tool back to Walter, who did the same. Turning around, Ruth called for Bobby and placed him on the leash once he came to a halt at her ankles. Walter now filled in the rest of the hole and patted it down with the back of the trowel.

Dusting some dirt off his knees, Walter got to his feet. “Ready for work?”

Ruth cast one glance down at the small mound of earth. “I suppose.”

“There’s the enthusiasm I love!” he joked, offering Ruth his arm.

Taking it, Ruth led him toward the side entrance with Bobby pulling on his leash, eager for an early morning walk. Squeezing Walter’s hand, Ruth told him, “At least I can put in my next letter to my son that we’ve held a funeral for his foot. I feel a little guilty, as it’s a while now since I told him I’d do one.”

About the Author:

M W Arnold lives near Northampton, UK and is known to his family and friends as, Mick. He was in the Royal Air Force for 16 years, visiting many different countries and very much enjoying himself. If he ever meets the Queen, he will have to thank her. He began writing as these characters needed their own voices. For a few years now, he’s been a member of the Romantic Novelists Association, a wonderful group of writers who’ve welcomed this bloke into their fold with open arms.

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BOOK TOUR: The Safe Game by Wes Verde #CrimeThriller #HistoricalFiction @RRBookTours1

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The Safe Game

Publication Date: July 22nd, 2022

Genre: Historical Fiction/ Crime Thriller

New Jersey, 1928.

The Cons – Roy, Urbane, and Victoria – made a living by separating fools from their money and rarely stayed in one place for too long. Keeping food in their bellies and a roof over their heads often meant hopping from one game to the next, barely staying ahead of the law or poverty and sometimes both.

That was until the day Roy – the Idea Man – thought he found a big score; one that would put the Cons on Easy Street. No more scraping by. No more hungry nights in the cold or picking pockets in desperation. Maybe even enough to get them out of this life for good. But things were never that simple.

When a tragic death brings the law snooping around, the Cons find themselves running afoul of cops, gangsters, and other powerful people – ones with secrets.

The Cons have gotten out of scrapes before, but their luck may soon run out and this particular game may end in luxury, a jail cell, or an early grave.

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Excerpt

Today she was on fire. Heads started to bob and the group pressed closer, trying to get a better look at the device.

With her work done, Victoria fell quiet. The excitement of the crowd was properly kindled now. A contended grin curled up her full lips. To Urbane’s surprise, her sharp eyes suddenly found his. At first, he thought it might be a fluke. Or perhaps his supposedly concealed location had been somehow compromised. Before he could stress himself over the matter, she winked. Then, all other thoughts fled. Just as his face started to heat up, she returned her attention to Roy. It was his turn to bring it home.

“Now, I’ve been given strict instructions by Treasury Department officials to accept no less than two thousand dollars for this device,” he intoned formally.

This was met with groans of disapproval and one or two boos and justifiably so; one could buy a small house for that amount of money. It was a far higher bid than in previous towns.

Feigning surprise, the Idea Man continued. “You understand, surely, that such a sum would be recovered in a matter of weeks if the prescribed regiment is followed?”

Urbane wondered if that was right. Knowing the scam – game – he had not previously given much thought to its premise. Having lost sight of Victoria for the moment, he quickly did the math in his head and came up with about fifty days. This was with the assumption that the machine was operated every five hours… and that it was not a scam.

As one who dealt in numbers and concrete reality, this world of deception was foreign to him. How people could believe such an outlandish proposition boggled his mind. A naturally curious sort, Urb simply could not fathom the lack of such in others.

Outside, Roy let the groans begin to subside before he extended the olive branch.

“Hang on, now. Hang on. Well… it will mean some hard questions from my superiors. Maybe even some shady bookkeeping on my part. But if that is asking too much, perhaps a discount might be considered. Just for the hard working folks of Lawrence, mind you.” In a quieter voice, he added, “But I must implore you to please keep this just between us. I could go as low as twelve hundred dollars.”

Again, boos. Though, fewer than before. In the end, Roy was obliged to drop the bid twice more before a collection hat started passing around. Urb shook his head, astonished. Roy and Victoria could steer a crowd the same way he could tickle a lock or build a mechanism. For the price of a decent used car, these people had accepted this deal that should have been too good to be true – of course it was. The crowd soon divided into two factions, apparently debating how the forthcoming riches would be allocated.

One man emerged as the representative of the group, holding the collection hat. Urbane’s eyes went wide. It was more cash and coin than they had made in the past three towns put together. If properly budgeted, it could well be enough to carry them into summer. The crowd shifted and he caught sight of Victoria again. She had also glimpsed the considerable sum. Like Urb, she bit her lower lip in anticipation. Seeing the curve of her face and the swell of her hips, he nearly forgot about their windfall and most everything else for that matter.

And he was not the only one to take notice. Would-be suitors were not an uncommon issue. As a professional hazard, Victoria tended to attract male attention like iron filings to a lodestone and today was no exception.

It was a young fella. The excessively confident ones often were and Urbane frowned as this one fixed Madame Charmer in his sights. She inspired many emotions: infatuation, longing, lust. Urb was a thinking man, but after six months of living and working in close proximity, even he could not fully resist her allure. Watching others make the attempt for her affection, even knowing they were doomed to fail was not good for his heart.

Though entirely capable of rebuffing such attempts, it seemed Vic had not yet detected her latest admirer. As the young man drew closer, Urb realized too late that something was off. This fellow had none of the telltale signs of one about to ask for a date.

At the same time, another speaker fired a bombshell question directly at Roy.

“How is this not counterfeiting?”

Available on Amazon

About the Author

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Wes is an engineer by trade, a busybody by habit, and a lifelong Jersey boy.

Writing has been a hobby in one form or another since 2006 when he started drawing 3-panel comics. When he is not putting words down, he is picking them up; the “to-read” pile only seems to grow larger.

A fan of nature, he spends as much time outside as possible.

Wes Verde

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Leningrad: The People’s War by Rachel R. Heil #HistoricalFiction #WorldWarII #Leningrad #BlogTour #CoffeePotBookClub @HeilRachelR @maryanneyarde

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Leningrad: The People’s War

(Leningrad, Book 1)

By Rachel R. Heil

Leningrad, 1941. As Europe crumbles under the German war machine, the people of the Soviet Union watch. There are whispers of war but not loud enough for the civilians of Leningrad to notice. Instead, they keep their heads down and try to avoid the ever-watching eyes of their own oppressive government.

University student Tatiana Ivankova tries to look ahead to the future after a family tragedy that characterizes life under the brutal regime. But, when the rumors that have been circulating the country become a terrifying reality, Tatiana realizes that the greatest fear may not be the enemy but what her fellow citizens are prepared to do to each other to survive.

As his men plow through the Russian countryside, Heinrich Nottebohm is told to follow orders and ask no questions, even if such commands go against his own principles. His superiors hold over him a past event that continues to destroy him with every day that passes. But, when given the opportunity to take an act of defiance, Heinrich will jump at the chance, ignoring what the end results could be.

Leningrad: The People’s War tells the harrowing beginning of a war that forever changed the landscape of a city, told through the eyes of both sides in a tale of courage, love, and sacrifice.

Buy Links:

This novel is available on #KindleUnlimited.

Universal Link: mybook.to/LeningradWar

Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B08PMM3NX6

Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08PMM3NX6

Amazon CA: https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B08PMM3NX6

Amazon AU: https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B08PMM3NX6

GUEST POST

Leningrad: The People’s War is the first book in a three-book seriesand depicts events in Leningrad from June to December, 1941. Following Russian university student Tatiana Ivankova and German military commander Heinrich Nottebohm, the story of the Siege of Leningrad is told from both the Russian and German perspective and explores how Leningrad and her people became a symbol of resilience and strength.

I’ve been fascinated with history for as long as I can remember and World War Two has been one of my main points of interest for just as long. While I am interested with learning facts about major battles I’ve always been drawn to personal stories of those who lived, fought, and survived. Stories that depict the hardships of war but also the resilience of ordinary civilians has always drawn me in and this can be clearly seen in stories concerning the Siege of Leningrad.

IMAGE CREDIT IS BORIS KUDOYAROV, VIA WIKIMEDIA COMMONS
“Leningraders clearing rubble following an air raid, 1 May 1942.”

The encirclement of Leningrad in the Soviet Union lasted 872 days and remains one of the longest sieges in history. While countless civilians and military personnel lost their lives defending Leningrad, many others survived to share their stories with future generations, even when the government attempted to silence them. Within hours of reading some of the facts of the siege I was sketching out an outline of a story that would depict the event from start to finish.

Research can be a meticulous process but I enjoy it. It serves as the foundation of your story and sometimes can inspire events that will transpire in your narrative. Yet, the research process for the Siege of Leningrad was a bit more difficult than I had anticipated. Unlike Stalin’s purge in the 1930s, the Holodomor, and the Gulag system, information and educational resources on the Siege of Leningrad is far less extensive. Quite a bit of this can be contributed to the fact that the Soviet government did everything they could to eliminate the disaster of Leningrad from people’s memory.

While the city had not fallen the cost of human life to defend it was atrocious and stories of Party officials refusing to let citizens flee Leningrad when they had the chance or the lack of action taken to get food to those stuck in the city had to be silenced. It is not difficult to imagine that a lot of valuable documents pertaining to the siege were destroyed or remain locked up in Russian archives. For example, we don’t have an exact death toll of those who died in Leningrad. Soviet authorities ultimately admitted at the Nuremberg war crime trials that 632,253 people lost their lives in Leningrad but most scholars agree the number is far higher than what the Soviet government admitted. Historians have provided theories based on the information we do have available, such as survivors’ accounts and population numbers from before the war, but they can’t be entirely accurate due to the influx of refugees who came to Leningrad and those who did manage to get out the city before the encirclement. We also have evidence of physical reminders of the siege like manuscripts, artwork, and captured German equipment like Tiger tanks and canons that were initially displayed in a Leningrad museum immediately after the war but were then taken away and have never been seen since.

IMAGE CREDIT IS BORIS KUDOYAROV, VIA WIKIPEDIA
“Leningraders leaving their destroyed homes following German bombardment, December 1942. These individuals were among the lucky ones who survived the first winter of the siege.”

Survivors who dared speak out about their experiences were silenced either by being imprisoned or in some cases executed. Survivors of the siege were treated as second class citizens and were seen as an embarrassment. Vainly, they tried to keep the memory of the siege alive with varying success but were ultimately ignored or shrugged off as just another group of people who experience hardships during the war. As a result of this persecution and lack of understanding, many Leningraders were tight lipped about their experiences, something that has thankfully diminished when Mikhail Gorbachev opened the archives in the 1980s, allowing previously repressed survivors to tell their stories. Within weeks newspapers were being filled with Leningraders telling their stories, revealing tales of losing all their family members and friends, starving through the first winter, and yet still not losing hope for final victory. Their tales of survival in the face of impossible odds are ones that should be continually told and helped serve as the basis of the Russian characters in Leningrad.

Though resources were scarce, I found that the ones that did exist were rich with detail. Journalist Harrison Salisbury, who wrote the first account of the siege, was able to correspond with several survivors who gave their vivid memories for Salisbury to immortalize. Likewise, historian Anna Reid has been able to incorporate information that was previously not available but opened on Gorbachev’s orders to provide some of the missing pieces to the Leningrad puzzle. Finally, the survivors who were finally able to voice their stories paint a picture of a group of people who would not be so easily defeated and should serve as inspirations for all of us.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Rachel R. Heil is a historical fiction writer who always dreamed of being an author. After years of dreaming, she finally decided to turn this dream into a reality with her first novel, and series, Behind the Darkened Glass. Rachel is an avid history fan, primarily focused on twentieth century history and particularly World War Two-era events. In addition to her love for history, Rachel loves following the British Royal Family and traveling the world, which only opens the door to learning more about a country’s history. Rachel resides in Wisconsin.

Social Media Links:

Twitter: https://twitter.com/HeilRachelR

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

LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/rachel-heil-90bbb6119/

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/rachelrheil/

BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/rachel-r-heil

Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/Rachel-R-Heil/e/B07MY8DZT8

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/18802162.Rachel_R_Heil

RELEASE BLITZ: The War Girls by Julie Rowe #HistoricalFiction #WWI @JulieRoweAuthor @BookBuzznet @RABTBookTours

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Historical Fiction, WW1

Date Published: June 28, 2022

 

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During the Great War, in a German-occupied Red Cross hospital in Brussels,
Belgium, there are three British nurses who will risk everything to save the
lives of those in their care. These are the stories of The War Girls.

Saving the Rifleman – British Red Cross nurse Maria Hunt lives in daily
fear that the German soldiers who regularly inspect her hospital will
uncover her secret: she helps wounded British soldiers escape German
hands.

Enticing the Spymaster – Judith Goddard is hiding in plain sight. A dual
citizen with family ties to Belgian royalty and the British military, she
works as a Red Cross nurse in a German hospital, learning what she can, ever
fearful her true allegiance will be discovered.

Aiding the Enemy – Rose Culver is in grave danger. For months the Red Cross
hospital head nurse has been aiding Allied soldiers caught behind enemy
lines, helping them flee into neutral Netherlands. It’s only a matter of
time until she’s caught.

The War Girls is composed of three previously published novellas. This is
the first time they have been published in one volume.

Excerpt

Chapter One

Brussels, Belgium

November, 1914

“Maria.”

Alarm rippled across Maria’s nerves, jerking her attention from the
supply record book she was writing in.

Her teacher, mentor, and matron of the hospital on Rue de la Culture stood
at the window, staring out at the street, her back straight and stiff.

“Rose?” Maria took a step toward her, but Rose’s voice
stopped her before she could take another.

“Please take an inventory of the bandages in the closet on the second
floor.” Her words were spoken with a deliberateness that should have
been reassuring. It wasn’t. The other woman held herself too still,
too rigid. “We’re about to have another friendly
visit.”

“Germans?” Maria whispered, dread tightening its coils until
she could barely breathe. “Again?”

Regular soldiers didn’t make her too uncomfortable; they appreciated
the nurses who looked after their wounded countrymen, and they knew they
could end up at this hospital and in her care. But the officers were another
thing altogether. They looked at Maria and Rose as if the two of them were
convicted criminals of the worst sort.

As if they were dirty.

Rose nodded.

“Lord preserve us.” The words slipped out before Maria could
stop them. “When will this madness stop?”

Rose turned then, a rueful smile on her face. “I wish I knew. Go now
and stay out of sight if you can.”

“But—”

“I’ll be fine. Dr. Geoff is still here. He’s as irritated
with all these inspections as we are. They’re a constant interruption,
and we have little enough time for our work as it is.”

Herman Geoff was a German doctor, but he treated Rose and even Maria with
the utmost respect. His uncle was a high-ranking officer. Very high. As long
as Dr. Geoff supported them, they would most likely remain safe.

If they did nothing to irritate or anger the local German troops. Something
Maria feared she’d already done.

She rushed to the back stairs and climbed them quickly. Rose would be safe.
The second daughter of minor gentry, she had demonstrated time and again her
diplomatic skills were more than up to the task of dealing with arrogant,
suspicious German officers.

Maria had none of those skills or family background.

The second floor was filled with bedrooms, now used as wards for their
patients. There was also a room where the nurses slept—Rose, herself,
two Belgian nurses and one German nurse who worked with them. A closet near
the back stairs had been converted into a storage area for bandages and
other medical supplies.

Perfect for a woman to hide in while waiting for their German visitors to
leave.

She opened the door, prepared to enter…

But the closet was already occupied—by a soldier complete with pack,
sidearm and rifle. The weapon wasn’t what snared Maria’s gaze
and held it.

His eyes were green. A brilliant emerald green.

Her breathing stalled as she stood in the doorway and stared into those
wide, pale eyes and at the blood spattered across his face and
uniform.

His British uniform. In a Belgian hospital full of enemy German
soldiers.

Good God.

Voices floated up the back stairs a few feet away and she opened her mouth
to caution him.

Before she could utter a warning, before she could blink, his hands reached
out, grabbed her, and yanked her into the closet, pulling the door closed
behind her.

Fear and shock crushed her throat as she found herself pressed against the
soldier’s body, one of his hands over her mouth, the other a steel
band behind her back.

She couldn’t move and the closet was so dark it might as well have
been a tomb. Blind and restrained, the unfamiliar scents filling her
nostrils took over her senses.

Mud, blood, and man.

***

Lieutenant John Bennet held the woman in his arms tightly enough to keep
her from crying out, but not enough to harm her.

He’d hoped to find someone to help him, preferably a nurse, but this
wasn’t how he’d anticipated meeting such a woman—staring
into her frightened face then pulling her into a dark closet. He
couldn’t even tell her she was in no danger from him. Any noise would
likely be overheard by the men now standing on the other side of the
door.

He held himself still despite the pain from his wound and the unfamiliar
weight of the woman in his arms. How long had it been since he’d held
anything so soft? Weeks? Months?

He sucked in a breath and the scent of evening flowers filled his head,
driving out all others. His cock stirred in response to the feel of her
curves along his flank. Her chest rose and fell erratically under his arm as
she tried to breathe through what must be a terrifying situation.

Yet there were no tears, no sobs, or cries.

He tore his focus from the delights of her body to consider her movements
for a moment. She’d stopped struggling for the most part and now stood
relatively docile in his arms.

Maybe she realized how dangerous his predicament was. If she was a nurse,
she might feel some sympathy toward him, some care.

Energy surfaced from some unknown well inside him, heating his muscles. He
couldn’t give up hope, not now. He had to find a way out of Belgium, a
way to report what he’d seen. There were more lives at risk than his,
thousands more. Including the nurse in his arms.

A man was giving orders in German in the hallway, from the sound of it,
only a few paces from the closet door. Orders to search the hospital for the
British soldier. Orders to find and detain for questioning the second
British nurse. The woman John no doubt held in his arms.

The woman now in as much danger as he.

Poor girl. It was one thing to tend wounded men in no shape to offer
offensive behavior, but quite another to be taken captive in a dark closet.
He was lucky she hadn’t screamed herself hoarse or fainted.

Somehow, he needed to communicate his lack of intent to harm her.
He’d been told this hospital was a place of safety for British
soldiers caught behind German lines. The last farmer who’d sheltered
him just outside of Brussels told him the matron of this hospital could help
him, had already helped many others like him. She might even be able to
supply fake identity papers and an escape route out of the country.

Warm, soft, and sweet-smelling, the woman in his arms could be the key to
his survival. And what he knew was the key to Britain’s defense.

His spine solidified, transforming into steel.

She didn’t know it, but he was prepared to kill to protect her.

 

About the Author

Retired medical lab technologist, Julie Rowe writes stories that plunge you
directly into chaos and adrenaline from the first page & don’t let
up until the end.

Praise for Julie Rowe

“Read Julie and you get it all, the suspense, steaming chemistry and
a story that doesn’t let you put it down.” – Ayekah, Goodreads

“I love this authors writing style. She writes balls to wall, edge of
your seat, page turning thrillers.” – Cindy, Goodreads

“This is one of the best books I’ve read this year because of the
complex and dramatic life and death storyline and the sizzling sexual
chemistry.” -Diane, Goodreads

Contact Links

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BOOK TOUR: The Discontent of Mary Wenger by Robert Tucker #HistoricalFiction  @AuthorR_Tucker @RRBookTours1 #RRBookTours 

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The Discontent of Mary Wenger (Paper Dolls #1)

Publication Date: February 3rd, 2022

Genre: Historical Fiction

Publisher: Tell-Tale Publishing

Emotionally torn between the conflicting historical social forces of feminism and the traditional roles of women in post-World War II society, Mary Wenger struggles with a deep sense of despair. Spanning the continent during the decades of the 1930s, ‘40s and ‘50s to the turn of the century, her compulsive lifelong odyssey in search of an acceptable house in which to realize her personal and economic goals throws her out of balance with her family.

A master wordsmith tells Mary’s story with a subtle touch of humor only an actual descendant could wield with success. Her fictional memoir is based on historical facts and bravely reveals Mary’s discovery and fear of separation from her children. The existential examination allows Mary to finally understand how her personal discontent, obsessions, internal demons, and depression affect her husband and children, as they mature and independently react to her attempts to mold them to her vision of how they all should be as a family. The life of every character is determined by his or her delusions and how they clash or compromise with one another.

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Excerpt

Since I was a young girl, I have always believed that death is stalking me. It lurks and hovers in the dark recesses of my mind like a virus waiting to strike and destroy when I least expect it.

When I was eight years old, I wrote a poem about myself and death.

My name is Mary

Sounds airy

Death is scary

It makes me wary

Being wary makes me carey

All my life, I have developed defenses and tried to be a protector of the people I love. They often didn’t see things the way I did and they didn’t agree with me. But I knew what was best for all of us.

I always have.

My mother told me the first night when she and Dad moved in, the wail of an infant floated up to their bedroom. Eyes wide open with fear, she lay listening as the weak cry faded to silence.

“Mike, did you hear that?” she whispered and poked Dad in the ribs. “It came from the cellar.”

“Just a cat. I’ll chase it out in the morning.”

Shaking his arm, she insisted. “It sounded like a baby. You must go down and look.”

“I’m tired. I look in the morning.”

“Please, Mike, I scared.”

“Aah! All right.” He touched a lighted match to their bedside candle. The electricity had not yet been connected. He went down the creaking stairs into the cellar.

Unseen by him, a woman’s bare foot and leg were pulled out through the window. The glow of the candle light was reflected by the wet shine of an object in one corner. Dad approached it and his blood chilled.

A newborn infant lay curled, the blood and mucous of the afterbirth still clinging to its blue body.

In horror, he fumbled his way back up the stairs to the bedroom where he blew out the candle and set it on the dresser.

Mother pulled the blankets close around herself. “What was it?”

Dad quickly climbed into bed. “Nothing but cat. I get rid of it in the morning.”

Before Mother awoke, Dad buried the infant in the back part of the yard farthest from the house in a corner of what would be a vegetable garden.

Many years later, when I was a young woman, Mother told me she knew Dad had lied to her to shield her from the grotesque reality of what he had found in the basement. She knew the difference between the wail of a newborn infant and the wail of a cat.

She never asked him where he had buried the infant. She suspected she knew from the unusual growth and size of tomatoes she had planted in that section of the garden. The thought of the child as fertilizer sickened her. Believing the soul of the infant existed in the ripe red fruit, she buried the tomatoes in a field far from the house and dug up and destroyed the plants.

Refusing to explain why, she avoided planting any other vegetables in that part of the garden. The spot of untilled soil was a silent message to Dad that she knew what had lain buried there.

I was sitting between Ruth and Nina clinking ice in our glasses of lemonade. I slowly turned the pages of the latest Sears & Roebuck catalog while they chatted about the clothes and merchandise they would buy if they had the money. We all did a lot of wishing in those days. Wishing didn’t cost anything, but left us with an aching malaise and a shared emptiness that our imaginations could not fill.

Since we had little in the way of personal possessions, we shared everything. If one of us even bought a candy bar, we wouldn’t think of eating it all. We would divide it up so each of us had a taste.

Available on Amazon

About the Author

IMG_0987TuckerTU

Author of 27 novels and a retired business and management consultant in a wide range of industries throughout the country, I reside with my wife in Southern California.

I’m a graduate of the University of California, Santa Barbara and Los Angeles with Bachelor’s and Master Degrees.

A Pulitzer nominated author, I am a recipient of the Samuel Goldwyn and Donald Davis Literary Awards.

An affinity for family and generations pervades my novels. My works are literary and genre fiction that address the nature and importance of personal integrity.

As the grandson of immigrants who fled persecution in Germany and Austria-Hungary and came to America during the early 1900’s, the early history of our country and the rise of the middle-class have always held a fascination for me. The dramatic depiction of fictional characters placed in actual events sharply and realistically bring alive the harsh times and adversity of the multitude of people who sought freedom and a better way of life and demonstrate that only a little over one-hundred years have passed to bring us to where we are as a struggling society today.

The chronology and events of history have captured and held my interest for many reasons, among them being stories that entertain, educate, and inform. Learning about the lives of my immigrant grandparents coming to America from Czechoslovakia during the early 1900s and the lives of my parents during the 1920s, 30s, and 40s provided the initial motivation. Researching and writing historical fiction is a way to learn more about myself and my origins and the social, political, and economic influences related to my generation.

Whether writing historical fiction or non-fiction or fantasy, I’m drawn into the societies and cultures of a particular period that inspire the creation of characters who bring that era to life. Not only do I experience this dynamic in books, but in films, plays, dance, music, and other art forms.

Researching history takes me into the exploration of new territory perhaps outside of my own life experience through reading other sources, interviews, travel, and films. Although a number of fine books are written from personal experience by authors who lived through those times, much of the historical writing by contemporary authors is dependent on secondary sources. Forays into the past for story material is a rewarding part of the creative process.

Robert Tucker

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