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

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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Welcome to the book tour for The Safe Game by Wes Verde. Read on for more details!

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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

portrait_3_small

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

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 Peoples 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

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

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

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Welcome to the book tour for The Discontent of Mary Wegner by Robert Tucker. Read on for more details!

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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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BOOK TOUR: Secrets of Rosenli Manor by Heidi Eljarbo #HistoricalFiction #HistoricalMystery #BlogTour #CoffeePotBookClub @HeidiEljarbo @maryanneyarde

Secrets of Rosenli Manor

(Mysteries of the Modern Ladies’ Society, Book 1)

By Heidi Eljarbo

Betrayal and trust go hand in hand in the first book of Heidi Eljarbo’s new turn-of-the-century series.

It’s 1898, and Lilly has spent most of her life motherless and living with a father who never looks for a silver lining. When her great-aunt Agatha passes, Lilly’s existence takes a drastic turn. She packs her few belongings and moves into the old lady’s magnificent estate, Rosenli Manor.

In the days that follow, Lilly tries to understand who Agatha really was, and hidden secrets slowly rise to the surface. Her great-aunt’s glamorous legacy is not quite what Lilly had imagined. She must trust in newly forged friendships, and to her surprise, she discovers what it means to truly fall in love. But not everyone is happy about the new mistress of Rosenli.

Intrigue, mystery, and a touch of romance in the Norwegian countryside fill the pages of Secrets of Rosenli Manor.

Excerpt

The gardens were quiet. The whispers of winter were fading away. No icicles pointing toward the frozen ground. No sparkling crystals in kaleidoscope patterns on blankets of white. The snowfall earlier had turned into sleet, and it appeared as if the promise of spring was slowly approaching. There was still no rustling of leaves in the breeze, but the barren branches would soon wake up. In a few days, the parkland would be filled with the cheerful sound of busy birds building nests. But at this moment, even the fountain was peacefully sleeping.

Just silence.

A plump bullfinch sat on the pale branch of a birch. His black cap made him look rather strict, but the cheerful red chest and cheeks brightened up the otherwise colorless landscape. The bird bobbed his head as she walked by, as if acknowledging her presence.

Lilly brushed the wet snow off a white-painted wooden bench by the fountain and sat down. What a lovely view. As a young girl, she’d probably never noticed. The road below wound across a sloping field toward the village. Smoke rose from the chimneys of neighboring houses, swirling upward to the already gray sky.

Did she belong here? The manor had been in the Strand family for several generations. Aunt Agatha was her kin, but Lilly knew nothing about the old lady’s past. Who was her husband? Were they happy here in the enormous house with a vast garden overlooking the village? Why did they not have any children?

Thoughts of how it must have been filled Lilly’s head. Not that she wanted to pry into someone else’s life, but she was curious. And now Aunt Agatha had bequeathed everything to her—a young woman at the beginning of her career as an accountant. Why? It was as if she stood on hallowed ground, not knowing the whole story, but with a strong desire to understand.

The last time Lilly was here, Mother and Aunt Agatha had sat on the bench while Lilly had played with a kitten. While the women discussed the fragrances of flowers and herbs, Lilly had rubbed her fingertips against the lavender plants with their sweet, delicious scent.

Lilly must have enjoyed listening to the ladies’ chatter about the garden. As an adult, she spent her weekends outside in the small backyard of her father’s house, arranging amicable groups of her favorite peonies in similar color schemes, rows of lilies in front of bushes of hydrangea, and fragrant sweet pea in pink and purple hues.

Every summer, Father complained about the abundance of blossoms. “What a waste. I have little room left to sit and read my newspaper.”

He wasn’t all gruff, and she hadn’t given up hope that his heart contained a hidden corner that took delight in the lovely things in life. Although, she had yet to see that sentiment surface.

Lilly closed her eyes and lingered a while longer in the memories of childhood. One day, a parcel had arrived at the end of summer. She must have been five years old and had stood by the kitchen table, watching her mother untie the cotton string and fold the brown paper aside.

Inside had been a small wooden box.

“Open it, Mother. Hurry.”

Mother had lifted the lid and had pulled out two linen sachets bound with ivory lace and ribbons. She’d held one of the pouches close to Lilly’s face. “A gift from your Aunt Agatha. Smell it. Isn’t it wonderful?”

“Can I hold one?” Lilly had placed the pouch under her nose and had let the scent take her away to fields of lavender, where she imagined herself running between rows of blossoming purple, through meadows of color and fragrance.

Mother had put the sachets in her armoire where the perfume lingered and seeped into her clothes.

Father had rolled his eyes. “Ridiculous. What do we need smelly pouches for? Why couldn’t that old woman give us a bag of gold instead?”

Bittersweet memories from that day, long in hibernation, now surfaced. Lilly wiped her wet cheeks and bent down, pretending to pick one of each of the beautiful flowers, carefully bunching them together, arranging the colors as she thought Aunt Agatha would have. Warm, rosy shades, and flourishing textures of tender softness.

Available at Amazon

Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B09Q986R26 

Amazon US: https://www.amzn.com/B09Q986R26

Amazon CA: https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B09Q986R26 

Amazon AU: https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B09Q986R26 

About the Author

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.

Sign up for her newsletter at https://www.heidieljarbo.com/newsletter

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BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/heidi-eljarbo

Amazon Author Page: https://www.amzn.com/Heidi-Eljarbo/e/B073D852VG/ Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/16984270.Heidi_Eljarbo

BOOK TOUR: Blackout by Simon Scarrow #historicalfiction #thriller @SimonScarrow

Blackout

by Simon Scarrow

Genre: Historical WWII Thriller

During Berlin’s brutally cold winter of 1939, a serial killer stalks the city throughout the Third Reich’s forced nightly blackouts in this chilling WWII crime novel from #1 Sunday Times bestselling author Simon Scarrowperfect for fans of Babylon Berlin, Philip Kerr’s Berlin Trilogy, Robert Ludlum, Andrew Gross, and William Christie . . .

Berlin 1939. The city is blanketed by snow and ice. In the distance, the rumble of war grows louder. In the shadows, a serial killer rises . . .

As the Nazis tighten their chokehold on the capital, panic and paranoia fester as blackout is rigidly enforced. Every night the city is plunged into an oppressive, suffocating darkness—pitch perfect conditions for unspeakable acts.

When a young woman is found brutally murdered, it’s up to Criminal Inspector Horst Schenke to solve the case quickly. His reputation is already on the line for his failure to join the Nazi Party. If he doesn’t solve the case, the consequences could be fatal.

Schenke’s worst fears are confirmed when a second victim is found. As the investigation takes him deeper into the regime’s darkest corridors, Schenke realizes danger lurks behind every corner—and that the warring factions of the Reich can be as deadly as a killer stalking the streets . . .

That line between right and wrong gets pretty smudged in this gem of a story. Atmosphere, sharp intrigue, and a host of fascinating characters all combine to make this one the next addition to your keeper shelf.”
—Steve Berry,
New York Times bestselling author

“Mesmerising. Nail-biting. Unputdownable. Utterly authentic and beautifully written.”
—Damien Lewis, internationally bestselling author

Simon Scarrow’s passion for writing began at an early age. After a childhood spent travelling the world, he pursued his great love of history as a teacher before becoming a full-time writer. His Roman soldier heroes Cato and Macro made their debut in 2000 in UNDER THE EAGLE, and have subsequently appeared in many bestsellers in the Eagles of the Empire series, including CENTURION, THE GLADIATOR and THE BLOOD OF ROME. Simon’s latest books, BLACKOUT and THE EMPEROR’S EXILE, are out now.

Simon is also the author of the novels YOUNG BLOODS, THE GENERALS, FIRE AND SWORD and THE FIELDS OF DEATH, chronicling the lives of the Duke of Wellington and Napoleon Bonaparte, and of SWORD & SCIMITAR, the epic tale of the 1565 Siege of Malta, and HEARTS OF STONE, set in Greece during the Second World War.

Simon has also co-written with T. J. Andrews three bestselling novels set in the Roman era, ARENA, INVADER and PIRATA.

Writing with Lee Francis, Simon is the author of the contemporary thriller PLAYING WITH DEATH.

Simon lives in Norfolk.

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BOOK TOUR: The Last Roman by B.K. Greenwood #historicalthriller #historicalfiction #mythology @bkgreenwood70 @RRBookTours1 #RRBookTours

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Welcome to the book tour for The Last Roman: Exile, the first novel in a thrilling trilogy by B.K. Greenwood. Read on for details and a chance to win a copy of this beauty and a t-shirt inspired by the book!

THE LAST ROMAN FRONT LIGHT

The Last Roman: Exile

Publication Date: May 29th, 2021

Genre: Historical Thriller/ Roman Mythology

Some debts you cannot repay, even if you live forever…

Seasoned imperial officer Marcus Sempronius Gracchus leads the 9th Roman Legion into a bloody battle against a fierce barbarian tribe. It’s a battle he won’t survive.

When he awakens three days later, clawing his way from a shallow grave, Marcus must face the reality of his new existence; he will never see the afterlife. But that won’t stop him from dying time and again over the next 2,000 years.

Unfortunately, there are others cursed with immortality, and they are determined to bring the world crashing to its knees. Forced to confront the only brother he has ever known, can Marcus prevent the inevitable and possibly find redemption?

The Last Roman: Exile is a fast-paced, action-packed historical thriller that will have readers coming back for more. Don’t miss out on B.K. Greenwood’s debut novel, the first in this exciting new trilogy.

Available on Amazon

The Last Roman: Abyss is now available too!

Excerpt

Marcus moved along the faltering line and soon encountered the largest man he had ever seen, hacking his way through the thinning ranks. A legionnaire tried to bar his path, but the ogre swung his massive blade, catching the soldier just below his jaw. A crimson arc of blood sprayed from the fatal wound, much of it splattering across Marcus’ face and chest. Behind the giant, more barbarians advanced to exploit the breach.

Marcus grabbed the shield of a fallen soldier and rushed the behemoth, who welcomed the attack with a vicious blow. The force drove Marcus to one knee and nearly knocked him unconscious. Marcus raised the shield to protect his head and shoulders and thrust his sword upward. The point struck metal, so he shoved it harder until he felt the blade dig into the soft underside of a trunk-like arm. Marcus could hear the giant’s howl above the din of the battle and knew that retribution was near. Another thunderous blast crashed into the shield, the metal and banded leather splintering from the attack. The next blow would rip Marcus asunder.

Desperate, Marcus hastily covered his head with the remains of his ruined shield. He mustered all his strength and drove forward into the beast. The shield thudded against his waist, eliciting an angry grunt. Marcus reached around the barbarian’s leg with the blade of his sword, finding the naked thigh. Never meant as a weapon for slashing, the edge of his sword was still razor-sharp. He drew it across the giant’s hamstring, cutting through flesh and sinew as Marcus pushed forward. The Suebi screamed in agony as the two men crumpled to the ground. The barbarian smashed the hilt of his sword into Marcus’s head, knocking off his helmet. The world was spinning as Marcus stood and staggered away. Blood flowed down his face, blurring his vision. His opponent, writhing in pain, was screaming at him.

Marcus heard several men shout, “The giant is down!”

A loud cheer erupted from the Romans, but that only encouraged the other barbarians. Marcus somehow raised his sword in time to block another attack, but the force knocked him to the ground. The barbarian raised his sword to strike a death blow when Gaius appeared out of nowhere and ran him through. With great effort, Marcus regained his footing, lumbering forward to rejoin the melee. He lost his balance again and had to lean on his sword to keep from falling. As he stood watching the raging battle, a sharp pain shot through his side.

He looked down and saw the blade of the stricken giant sliding beneath his armor. The barbarian was sitting on his haunches, trying to stab him again. Marcus summoned his remaining strength and, swinging for the neck, felt the cold steel bite into flesh, then bone. A low gurgle escaped the laceration as the colossal body slumped forward, and the barbarian’s head fell to the ground.

Marcus dropped the sword, trying in vain to reach his wound and stem the flow of blood. His breath grew labored, and he coughed, a coppery trace spilling into his mouth. He slumped to his knees as scores of legionnaires rushed past. Marcus watched the reinforcements plug holes in the line and stem the barbarian attack. More cohorts arrived, and the battle devolved into a desperate struggle. Even with both legions engaged, the outcome was uncertain.

Marcus watched as the ranks dwindled, the men stubbornly giving way to the onslaught. It looked like they may break at any moment when a commotion drew his attention to the right side of the battle. A cheer rose from the legionnaires as the forgotten Roman cavalry rejoined the fight and rolled up the exposed barbarian flank. Within minutes, the Suebi army was in full flight, and the mounted troopers were cutting down the stragglers. As the centurions rushed to put the men back in formation, Marcus slipped to the ground, his gaze fixed on the gray, sunless sky.

Moments later, Gaius knelt beside him. He tried to undo the bloody clasp of his armor, but Marcus pushed his hand away. Their eyes met.

“The men did good,” Marcus said.

“Yes, they did.”

Marcus continued, but it was inaudible.

Gaius leaned over, and Marcus whispered, “Tell my wife—” He coughed up specks of blood onto Gaius’s soiled cheek. “I’m so sorry…” Marcus swallowed back the warm fluid that was rising in his throat, “sorry I left her.”

“I will,” he promised. “I will tell her myself.”

Marcus nodded as a white horse arrived, the rider dismounting. Somewhere in the distance, he could hear the general’s voice.

“Gaius?”

The old centurion did not reply, but the answer was written on his troubled face. Quintus knelt to the ground.

“Marcus, your actions have saved the day. I plan on submitting your name to the Senate…”

Quintus paused when their eyes met, then shifted to the pool of blood gathering around them. As the general spoke of honor rolls and victory marches, Marcus looked beyond him to the sky above. There was a shimmer in the cloud that resembled a bird. He tried to focus on the form as it grew closer, but he could not keep his eyes open. As he slipped into the darkness, he thought of his wife and the fact that he would never see her again.

About the Author

Author HS

B.K. Greenwood lives in Austin, Texas, with his wife and wolfpack of 4 rescue dogs. He loves to travel and has incorporated his experiences into his writing. B.K. enjoys works of fiction and nonfiction, with a heavy emphasis on history, adventure, and classics. His passion for history is on display in his debut novel, The Last Roman: Exile.

B.K. Greenwood | Twitter | Facebook | Instagram

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Book Tour Schedule

February 21st

R&R Book Tour (Kick-Off) http://rrbooktours.com

Reads & Reels (Spotlight) http://readsandreels.com

@takealookatmybookshelf (Review) https://www.instagram.com/takealookatmybookshelf/

@rosyreadz (Review) https://www.instagram.com/RosyReadz/

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February 22nd

Liliyana Shadowlyn (Review) https://lshadowlynauthor.com/

@honeydukesbooks (Review) https://www.instagram.com/honeydukesbooks/

Rambling Mads (Spotlight) http://ramblingmads.com

Timeless Romance (Spotlight) https://aubreywynne.com/

February 23rd

I Smell Sheep (Spotlight) http://www.ismellsheep.com/

@jypsylynn (Review) https://www.instagram.com/jypsylynn

B is for Book Review (Spotlight) https://bforbookreview.wordpress.com

Haddie’s Haven (Spotlight) https://haddieshaven.blogspot.com

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February 24th

@books_inthecity (Review) https://www.instagram.com/books_inthecity/

Jessica Belmont (Review) https://jessicabelmont.com/

The Magic of Wor(l)ds (Review) http://themagicofworlds.wordpress.com

Nesie’s Place (Spotlight) https://nesiesplace.wordpress.com

February 25th

@softestreader (Review) https://www.instagram.com/softestreader/

@definitelynotreading (Review) https://www.instagram.com/definitelynotreading/

@the.suspense.is.thrilling.me (Review) https://www.instagram.com/the.suspense.is.thrilling.me/

@bhaneereads_ (Review) https://www.instagram.com/bhaneereads_/

Misty’s Book Space (Spotlight) http://mistysbookspace.wordpress.com

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SPOTLIGHT: They Called Him Marvin by Roger Stark #historicalfiction #historicalromance @author_RStark @RRBookTours1 #RRBookTours 

Welcome to the tour for Roger Stark’s historical fiction, They Called Him Marvin. Read on for more details and a chance to win a signed edition of the book!

CoverFinal

They Called Him Marvin: A History of Love, War and Family

Publication Date: June 14th, 2021

Genre: Historical Fiction/ Historical Romance/ Based on True Events

Young lovers trying be be a family, but duty called, interrupting them.
He answered. She, with child was left behind.
The war did end, but he never returned.

“They Called Him Marvin” is a history. A history of war and of family. A history of the collision of the raging politics of a global war, young love, patriotism, sacred family commitments, duty and the horrors and tragedies, the catastrophe that war is.

A reviewer explains: “I am a fan of historical fiction and this story did not disappoint. It was sweet, tragic, personal, and moving. Gradually and almost imperceptibly, the story of two wartime sweethearts begins circling the drain of a tragedy you know is coming. The book begins with the ending, but by the time you get there you have convinced yourself that it can’t possibly be the case. I enjoyed every moment, even the ones that left me in tears.

The letters between Connie and Dean provided a fascinating glimpse into wartime life. Reading the experiences of people both at home and abroad was very engaging. I found myself eagerly awaiting the next letter, right along with the young couple!

Lastly, the book left me with an overwhelming acknowledgement of the universal trauma and tragedy of war. The Shermans are not the only family we meet in the book and the weaving together of several different narratives added a depth to the story that’s hard to put into words.

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Excerpt

18 January 1941, The Story Begins

Stanley Carter started all this.

… I want to help you with your problem of not knowing any one in Salt Lake. Tomorrow I am going to my girlfriends house, come with me, she would love to meet you and then you will know two people here.” Dean answered, “I could be talked into that.”

“We are going to meet up at church and then go to her house.”

By the end of church the following day, Dean would actually know three people from Salt Lake City. This because Stan’s girlfriend, Carol Woffinden, happened to be the best friend of Constance Avilla Baldwin, who also just happened to attend the same Waterloo Ward of the Mormon Church, who also didn’t have a boy friend, and who was also more than happy to make a visitor feel welcome.

Dean innocently walked into all of this.

Mormons have a special interest in non Mormons, or Gentiles as they call them. You see, a Mormon is never far from, or without, his missionary zeal. If you’re not a Mormon and your going to hang out with a Mormon for very long, you’re going to get zealed. For Dean Harold Sherman, it was to be a life altering dose of zealing.

Dean and Connie exchanged 67 letters (50 written by Dean) the night (unbeknownst to him) that his son Marvin was born Dean wrote:

18 February 1945

Good Evening Peaches:

Hello sweet girl, I sure have been thinking of you lots these days and wishing so much that I could be around to take care of you, and be holding your nice soft hands and giving you lots of moral support, and see your pretty face and look in your eyes and without saying a word, tell you millions of wonderful things that you mean to me. You do too, Honey, mean so many wonderful things to me. All the wonderful things a beautiful girl can be and my best companion ever along with being the sweetest wife any guy ever could love. Those are just a few of the things, Darling, which make me love you more every day…

Goodnight Peach Blossom,

Dean

On the day Dean was shot down Connie Wrote:

14 May 1945

My most wonderful man,

I’m in a rather odd mood tonight Honey, and it is most all about you and Marvin and me. I have been trying to decide whether or not I would write to you tonight most all evening. I wanted to, but I didn’t know if I could express my feelings as I would want to, and, as I feel them. As you can see Honey, I have made up my mind to try. How well I succeed remains to be seen…

Then I was thinking of Marvin and wondering just what his talents are going to be. To have a Daddy such as you, Honey, he will be kind and good, even as you are, a wonderful man. Honey, I’m really just beginning to realize what a great responsibility we have in teaching and caring for Marvin. We just have to do it to the very best of our ability. I know you have lots of ability, Honey, and I hope I have…

I have a hard time, the past seems like such a thrilling dream of love and happiness. I wonder if it all really happened, but then I know it did. And Oh! Honey how I do love you now and forever and ever ever after with all my heart and soul. Honey I just can’t express how deep my love for you is. Its an impossibility. I love you always.

Good night my husband,

Peaches

Xxxxxxxxxx

10 December 1944, The Same Damn Movie

… In Puerto Rico the crew was quite happy to watch the new release The Lady Takes a Chance starring John Wayne and Jean Arthur. Coincidently when they reached British Guiana the same movie was featured. Not to be deterred the crew again enjoyed the film. When they got to Brazil and it was again the featured picture show, some murmuring occurred. The Corporalies, were feeling cheated.

When they found the movie would be playing at their fourth stop also they complained to Dean.

“Sir, ain’t the Army got any other movies?”

“We know the lines better than the actors.”

“We know John Wayne is going to eat the lamb chops because Jean Arthur cooked them for him even tho he is a beef man.”

“Maybe there will be something new at our next stop,” was the consolation Dean offered. After crossing the Atlantic The Corporalies showed signs of giving up on the movies.

But in KhartoumThe Corporalies forced into the NCO Club by the searing heat and therefore ‘forced‘ to drink cold beer all day had a terrible yearning, near evening, for a movie.

“Howell, go see what’s playing at the movies tonight.” ordered his fellow Corporalies.

By virtue of being the youngest Howell was often the brunt of such requests especially after three or four beers. He had given up protesting that he was the same rank as them. In fact as the Central Gunner, he was in charge of the other gunners in combat, but as the youngest of four boys at home he felt a strange comfort in re-playing the role with his combat brothers.

“And damn it, don’t come back if it is The Lady Takes a Chance.”

Of course he discovered that The Lady was indeed tonight’s special feature. On the way back to the NCO Club with the sad news that John Wayne was again eating those lamb chops even here on the edge of the Nile Rivers, he met his Airplane Commander.

“Sir, they are playing that same damn movie here, oh sorry sir, that same John Wayne movie is playing here. We are sick of it, Sir, ain’t the Army got any other movies?”

“Evan, the reason that movie shows up everywhere we go, is that we have been tasked with delivering it to our final destination while allowing each layover airfield to use it.”

Howell stared at his Airplane Commander as his cognitive impaired brain tried to process. The light finally came on for him, a bit dim, but it came on. “Oh, Sir, I see Sir, I’ll tell the boys.”

And off he wandered, not in the direction of the boys, but in the direction of his bunk, taking his comrades threat to not return with bad news seriously.

Available Here and on Amazon!

About the Author

roger

I am, by my own admission, a reluctant writer. But there are stories that demand to to be told. When we hear them, we must pick up our pen, lest we forget, and the stories be lost.

Six years ago, in a quiet conversation with my friend Marvin, I learned the tragic story his father, a WW2 B-29 Airplane Commander, shot down over Nagoya, Japan just months before the end of the war.

Bill Clinton has famously said: “They were the fathers we never knew, the uncles we never met, the friends who never returned, the heroes we can never repay. They gave us our world. And those simple sounds of freedom we hear today are their voices speaking to us across the years.”

Such a man was Marv’s father. A father he never knew. The telling of the story that evening by this half orphan was so moving and full of emotion, it compelled me to ask if I could write the story. The result being “They Called Him Marvin.”

My life has been profoundly touched in so many ways by being part of documenting this sacred story. I pray that we never forget, as a people, the depth of sacrifice that was made by ordinary people like Marvin and his father and mother on our behalf.

My career as an addiction counsellor (CDP) led me to write “The Waterfall Concept; A Blueprint for Addiction Recovery,” and co-author “Reclaiming Your Addicted Brain.”

After my counselling retirement, I decided I wanted to learn more about the craft of writing and started attending classes at Portland Oregon’s Attic Institute. What I learned is that there are an amazing number of great writers in my area, and they were willing to help others improve their skills. I am grateful to many of them.

My next project is already underway, a memoir of growing in SW Washington called “Life on a Sorta Farm.” My wife of 49 years, Susan and I still live in that area.

We raised seven children and have eleven grandchildren. We love to travel and see the sites and cultures of the world. I still get on my bicycle whenever I can.

They Called Him Marvin

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BOOK TOUR: The Last Cowboy by Jan Herrman #historicalfiction @RRBookTours1

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Welcome to the book tour for historical fiction novel, The Last Cowboy by Jan Herrman. Read on for more details and a chance to win a $25 Amazon e-gift card!

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The Last Cowboy

Publication Date: November 7th, 2021

Genre: Historical Fiction

As the romanticized period of the American “wild” West wound down, most cowboys rode off into the sunset. Hank Miller must follow a different path. In The Last Cowboy, he survives the Civil War, Texas sized desperados, and the great San Francisco earthquake. With a debt to pay, Hank will place himself and his twin sons in great danger in a new, wild and untamed frontier—Morocco!

This is a sweeping tale of a reluctant hero of the West. It is also a story of romance and international adventure, stretching from west Texas to San Francisco, Chicago, New York, London, Tangier and the Moroccan Rif. The novel spans an equally expansive time frame: 1860 to 1912. The backdrop is the American frontier with all its enduring myths and troubling realities.

Ultimately, his heroism earns Hank unexpected wealth, friends on three continents, and the love of an extraordinary woman. Now ensconced in a mansion in the most exclusive neighborhood of San Francisco, Hank has a beautiful wife and three remarkable children. He wants nothing more than to enjoy them all and the highly successful international tour business he and Beth now operate. But a last, perilous mission awaits. Hank has a debt to pay and a friend to rescue in a far off land.

Available on Amazon

About the Author

image009

Jan is a retired physician living with his wife, a practicing pediatrician in Southern California. Their children have all flown the coop.

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