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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

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

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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

Books + Happiness = Happiness (Spotlight) https://bookscoffeehappiness.com/

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 

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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!

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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.

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About the Author

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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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Release Blitz: Blood Before Dawn by Daniel V. Meier, Jr. #historicalfiction #politics @AuthorMeier @rabtbooktours

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Book 2 of the Dung Beetles of Liberia series.

Political/Historical Fiction

Date Published 12-15-2021

Publisher: Boutique of Quality Books (BQB Publishing)

April 1979: Ken Verrier and his wife, Sam, return to Liberia to buy diamonds. They did not return to get caught up in a rice riot and a coup d’etat. But that’s what happens. Ken witnesses and unwittingly participates in a period of Liberia’s tumultuous yet poorly documented history—the overthrow of the Tolbert presidency and ultimately the end of the Americo-Liberian one hundred thirty-three years of political and social dominance.

THE DUNG BEETLES OF LIBERIA

2019 Grand Prize Winner – Red City Review

 

Based on the remarkable true account of a young American who landed in Liberia in 1961.

The blend of fictional action and nonfiction social inspection is simply exquisite, and are strengths that set this story apart from many other ficitonal pieces sporting African settings. – D. Donovan, Midwest Book Review

NOTHING COULD HAVE PREPARED HIM FOR THE EVENTS HE WAS ABOUT TO EXPERIENCE. Ken Verrier quickly realizes the moment he arrives in Liberia that he is in a place where he understand very little of what is considered normal, where the dignity of life has little meaning, and where he can trust no one.

It’s 1961 and young Ken Verrier is experiencing the turbulence of Ishmael and the guilt of his brother’s death. His sudden decision to drop out of college and deal with his demons shocks his family, his friends, and especially his girlfriend, soon to have been his fiancee. His destination: Liberia—the richest country in Africa both in monetary wealth and natural resources.

Author Daniel Meier describes Ken Verrier’s many escapades, spanning from horrifying to whimsical, with engaging and fast-moving narrative that ultimately describe a society upon which the wealthy are feeding and in which the poor are being buried.

It’s a novel that will stay with you long after the last word has been read.

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About the Author

A retired Aviation Safety Inspector for the FAA, Daniel V. Meier, Jr. has always had a passion for writing. During his college years, he studied History at the University of North Carolina, Wilmington (UNCW) and American Literature at The University of Maryland Graduate School. In 1980 he published an action/thriller with Leisure Books under the pen name of Vince Daniels.

Dan also worked briefly for the Washington Business Journal as a journalist and has been a contributing writer/editor for several aviation magazines. In addition to BLOOD BEFORE DAWN, he is the author of its prequel, the award-winning historical novel, THE DUNG BEETLES OF LIBERIA, as well as 2 other highly acclaimed novels published by Boutique of Quality Books (BQB Publishing).

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Book Tour: Over the HEdge by Paulette Mahurin #Historical Fiction #WW2 #BlogTour #CoffeePotBookClub @MahurinPaulette @maryanneyarde

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Book Title: Over the Hedge

Author: Paulette Mahurin

Publication Date: July 31, 2021

Publisher: Independently Published

Page Length: 176 Pages

Genre: Historical Fiction

During one of the darkest times in history, at the height of the German occupation of the Netherlands in 1943, members of the Dutch resistance began a mission to rescue Jewish children from the deportation center in Amsterdam. Heading the mission were Walter Süskind, a German Jew living in the Netherlands, Henriëtte Pimentel, a Sephardic Jew, and Johan van Hulst, principal of a Christian college. As Nazis rounded up Jewish families at gunpoint, the three discreetly moved children from the deportation center to the daycare across the street and over the backyard hedge to the college next door. From the college, the children were transported to live with Dutch families. Working against irate orders from Hitler to rid the Netherlands of all Jews and increasing Nazi hostilities on the Resistance, the trio worked tirelessly to overcome barriers. Ingenious plans were implemented to remove children’s names from the registry of captured Jews. To sneak them out of the college undetected past guards patrolling the deportation center. To meld them in with their new families to avoid detection. Based on actual events, Over the Hedge is the story of how against escalating Nazi brutality when millions of Jews were disposed of in camps, Walter Süskind, Henriëtte Pimentel, and Johan van Hulst worked heroically with the Dutch resistance to save Jewish children. But it is not just a story of their courageous endeavors. It is a story of the resilience of the human spirit. Of friendship and selfless love. The love that continues on in the hearts of over six hundred Dutch Jewish children.

Buy Links:

This novel is available to read on #KindleUnlimited

Universal Link: https://books2read.com/u/me9eZr

Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B09BM8QVLF

Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B09BM8QVLF

Amazon CA: https://www.amazon.ca/Over-Hedge-Paulette-Mahurin-ebook/dp/B09BM8QVLF/

Amazon AU: https://www.amazon.com.au/gp/product/B09BM8QVLF

Author Bio:

Paulette Mahurin

Paulette Mahurin is an international bestselling literary fiction and historical fiction novelist. She lives with her husband Terry and two dogs, Max and Bella, in Ventura County, California. She grew up in West Los Angeles and attended UCLA, where she received a Master’s Degree in Science.

Her first novel, The Persecution of Mildred Dunlap, made it to Amazon bestseller lists and won awards, including best historical fiction 2012 in Turning the Pages Magazine. Her second novel, His Name Was Ben, originally written as an award winning short story while she was in college and later expanded into a novel, rose to bestseller lists its second week out. Her third novel, To Live Out Loud, won international critical acclaim and made it to multiple sites as favorite read book of 2015. Her fourth book, The Seven Year Dress, made it to the bestseller lists for literary fiction and historical fiction on Amazon U.S., Amazon U.K. and Amazon Australia. Her fifth book, The Day I Saw The Hummingbird, was released in 2017 to rave reviews. Her sixth book, A Different Kind of Angel, was released in the summer of 2018 also to rave reviews. Her last four books: Irma’s Endgame, The Old Gilt Clock, Where Irises Never Grow, and Over the Hedge all made it to bestselling lists on Amazon. Her new release, Over the Hedge, was #1 in Hot New Release Amazon U.K. it’s second day out.

Social Media Links:

Website: thepersecutionofmildreddunlap.wordpress.com

Twitter: https://twitter.com/mahurinpaulette

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Paulette-Mahurins-Books-695108163960200

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/paulettemahurin

BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/paulette-mahurin

Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/Paulette-Mahurin/e/B008MMDUGO

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5895757.Paulette_Mahurin

Release Blitz: Punk Disco Bohemian by Arya F. Jenkins #LGBTQ #historicalfiction @ninestarpress @GoIndiMarketing

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Title: Punk Disco Bohemian

Author: Arya F. Jenkins

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: 09/06/2021

Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex

Pairing: Female/Female

Length: 41300

Genre: Historical 1970s, LGBTQIA+, coming of age, Provincetown, 1970s, historical, memoir, multicultural, jazz, disco, women, queer, lesfic

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Description

It’s the 1973 and seventeen-year old, multicultural Ali is on the run from suburbia, since her best friend has left for college and home has turned into a nightmare—a druggy brother and a mother who has hooked up with another man since Ali’s father disappeared.

Ali wants to let loose, find herself sexually, experience real freedom, and she hopes to do this in the one place she remembers being happy as a kid, when her family spent summer vacations on Cape Cod.

Provincetown has always represented freedom with a capital F to Ali. In the 1970s, Provincetown is a queer mecca, afire with gay people and a burgeoning disco scene. Ali quickly gets sucked into a partying lifestyle and starts sleeping around to gain experience. For Ali, it’s a time of growth and unraveling, of coming to terms with truth while letting go of the past. But Ali’s search could come at a price. Will she find herself? Love? Freedom? And is she willing to pay the price for them?

Excerpt

Punk Disco Bohemian
Arya F. Jenkins © 2021
All Rights Reserved

When it came time to fly, “In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida” accompanied me on the radio. I turned up the volume and beat the wheel of the Rabbit with the heel of my palm. I was going to the Garden of Life. I rolled down the window and let the November wind whip my hair. Next came “Dazed and Confused.” I heard go, go, go, go in my head while the fuzzy image of a cat on my windshield, probably no more than a mirage of cigarette smoke, impelled me on.

“You begin the moment you believe you can fly,” I had written in my diary, unsure of what I meant, liking the sound of the words, enthralled with the idea of flying and beginnings.

Behind me I had my Spanish guitar and small stereo system, both gifts from Dad, red ski jacket, lamb’s wool vest, rolled-up sleeping bag, pillow, knapsack with a couple of changes of clothes and, ridiculously, a pair of white tennis culottes I’d worn months before as if I was heading into summer, toothbrush, comb, journal, pens, Erica Jong’s Fear of Flying, and a cardboard box in which were albums by Miles Davis, Dave Brubeck, and John Coltrane that had belonged to Dad, as well as my own eclectic collection by Santana, Richie Havens, Nina Simone, Deodato, Elton John, James Taylor, Cream, Joni Mitchell, and Led Zeppelin, each thing precious, a memento.

I’d taken off in the car meant to be my brother’s and mine and imagined Buddy peeved as hell, realizing he would have to mooch rides now that his wheels were gone. It was his fault for ripping me off, taking money I’d stashed inside a book from my job at a gift shop to save up for now. Who else would have done it?

When it came time to gas up, I went to the nearest phone booth to do the one thing I did not want to do that day, call home.

“Yes, operator. Collect. Mrs. Baines, from Ali. The number is 2-0-3-9-6-6-5-3-7-3.” A few rings beat slow time to my racing heart, and then someone picked up.

“Hey, Maman, Ali here.” I tried to be casual. “I want you to know I’m not coming home.”

“Ali, where are you?” Mom’s voice sounded remote. I gave no answer. Then she said, “Are you sure?”

“Nowhere. I’m not coming home. That’s all you need to know. Bye, Mom.”

The words “I hope you and Buddy will be okay” came to me, but why would I say them? Sentimentality would derail me from my goal. Buddy, Mom, and Dad were all part of the past now.

Three years before, at fourteen, I’d run off to Greenwich Village. My dress rehearsal, I think now. I felt pulled in a hundred directions at home and school, and I had nightmares from which I awoke in a sweat. In one, I saw myself crucified on a cross while being split in two. In another, I ran through woods only to come upon an empty box through which wind whistled. Why did that scare me so? The songs of the day, Marvin Gaye’s “What’s Goin’ On” and others by The Temptations, Edwin Starr, Simon and Garfunkel, and James Taylor, all spoke to feelings I tried to hide. Angst and despair were roiling the country too.

Whose hand did you reach out to, to pull you out of the darkness? I didn’t know. I listened to songs, hoping to learn. All I got was turmoil and my body telling me to run. One day, instead of going to school, I turned in the opposite direction from the bus and just kept going.

To myself I was something strange, cut out of myriad boxes, unfit to be part of anything. In first or second grade, a kid at school asked me, “Are you a savage?” I had the distinction of being the only brown kid in my class and the entire school. Maman had a dark complexion too. It would be years before I would see a Black person or anyone of color in New Canaan. Its main street glimmered white, its people were white, its clubs white, its ethos white. In this cold, subtly and blatantly exclusionary world, white middle-class women who had been abandoned, divorced, or widowed were at the bottom of the white tier, and suffered too. I got to see that close up.

As a kid I was the odd one out. My exotic, buxom Argentinean and French mother might have been in movies. My eyes were dark and fierce; my hair, black with reddish highlights, like Gra-mere’s. I have never known anyone besides us with hair naturally like that. My fluency in three languages, all of which I went in and out of easily with my parents and grandparents, added to my feeling different, like a nerd. In a family with a beautiful mother and a brother who resembled our handsome blond American dad, I was the alien.

My first time taking off, I hitchhiked toward New York City and spent my first night in a gas station bathroom. The next day I hit the West Village, where I hung with hippies, druggies, and other runaways, all of us following the same trail of dope and free music in St. Mark’s Place and Washington Square Park. I spent most of the time panhandling, my hand out, head down, leaning against buildings or standing on corners. Hardly anyone gave me a dime. Passersby glimpsed a skinny kid with hair in front of her face, wearing a tie-dyed top, jeans, and filthy Converse high-tops, a cigarette dangling from her fingers or mouth, every parent’s worst nightmare—maybe every kid’s too.

I tried going with the flow to survive. If what I went through at home was bad, this too was a kind of hell. One time, two bikers fought over me when I hadn’t said a word to either, not even given them a look. I tried not to look at people, afraid my stares set fires. One of the guys, a Vietnam vet, said whenever he rode his bike, he hallucinated trails from his acid-taking days. The burly one with a beard and leather vest called him full of shit. Somehow, I became a subject, and their fistfight drew a crowd, which allowed me to escape! Another time, a greasy-haired hippie with stained front teeth peered into my eyes and, cocking his head, inquired, “Do you know where it is? Tell me where it is, baby.” Those weird times spooked me.

On the streets, Blacks and whites commingled freely in a diverse scene, a world in which to be different was an emblem rather than mark against you. You were looked up to for it. I no longer felt isolated like at home, no longer imprisoned by false, stifling selves. Only as a runaway did I begin talking about myself and my life. There were so many stories on the street, and they interlaced like multicolored threads, a quipu of history.

“Your gra-mere must have been some crazy babe,” Leroy said after I told him how my mother’s mother, someone I loved madly, would do backbends while balancing a full champagne glass on her forehead.

“Yeah, like the Jimi Hendrix of grandmas, a surprise around every corner.”

“I love it. I love it,” he said.

Leroy was tall, slim with beautiful, expressive hands, and made me think of Hendrix, save for the mole high on his right cheek and his moss-green eyes. He had lost two older brothers, Jamal and Tyrone, in prison gang fights. After his mama died, Leroy turned to the streets, making enough to get by sewing people’s clothes, patching them up in exchange for money and stuff. He always had a basket at his side of discarded materials people had given him, along with his sewing needles and threads, and wore patchwork jeans like a colorful trip.

Ingenious and talented, he took a white silk sash and made a turban around my head. “You look like a swami”—then wrapped it around my body—“Now you are Artemis.” He scrunched up his nose, putting one closed hand under his chin. “Actually, you look more like Audrey Hepburn in the party scene of Breakfast at Tiffany’s.” We laughed. I wore the sash as a belt, then as a scarf for days.

All Leroy wanted, he said, was to live free and avoid prison. In ’63, as a boy, with his brother Tyrone already behind bars for dealing dope, he and his mother marched in DC and attended Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s “I Have a Dream” speech.

“Air was electric, man. I never saw so many Black folks and white folks together in my life. Like heaven. After that, we got the rights.” He shook his head, full of irony. “People of color ain’t ever gonna be free long as white people run the world.”

I closed my eyes to mull his words, adding to myself, white men, as long as white men rule.

Purchase

NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

Arya F. Jenkins’s fiction has been published in many journals and zines. Her short stories have received several nominations for the Pushcart Prize. She is the author of three poetry chapbooks and a short story collection, Blue Songs in an Open Key (Fomite, 2018). Another collection, Angel in Paris & Other Stories, is forthcoming through NineStar Press in 2022.

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Book Tour & Interview: In a Grove of Maples by Jenny Knipfer #HistoricalFiction #ChristianHistoricalFiction @JennyKnipfer @maryanneyarde

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Book Title: In a Grove of Maples

Series: Sheltering Trees: Book 1

Author: Jenny Knipfer

Publication Date: 1st July 2021

Publisher: Jenny Knipfer–Author

Page Length: 264 Pages

Genre: Historical Fiction, Christian Historical Fiction

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

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

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

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

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

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

Buy Links:

Is your book on Kindle Unlimited? Yes

Universal Link: https://books2read.com/u/bojLRR

Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Grove-Maples-Sheltering-Trees-Book-ebook/dp/B0916GL4L2

Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/Grove-Maples-Sheltering-Trees-Book-ebook/dp/B0916GL4L2

Amazon CA: https://www.amazon.ca/Grove-Maples-Sheltering-Trees-Book-ebook/dp/B0916GL4L2

Amazon AU: https://www.amazon.com.au/Grove-Maples-Sheltering-Trees-Book-ebook/dp/B0916GL4L2

INTERVIEW WITH JENNY KNIPFER

BOOKS+COFFEE: When did you know you wanted to be a writer?

After I read the Anne of Green Gables series, I remember sensing a desire in me to become a writer. And that was that.

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

I’ve been writing since I was a teenager, mostly journaling back then, but I did pen a few stories.

I started a novel in my twenties, but life interrupted with a job and kids, and I set it aside. For the next twenty years, I wrote poetry, songs, blog posts, and journal entries.

In 2018 when I retired from my work as a floral designer due to disability, I resurrected the novel I’d started years ago and finished it in a couple of months.

For some months I queried for an agent but ended up pursuing the indie author route and publishing my first book, Ruby Moon, in 2019.

BOOKS+COFFEE: 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?

My writing schedule fluxuates with my health. I have MS and struggle daily with many physical issues, fatigue and weakness being some of the heavy hitters. I plan to write anytime from late morning on, but some days writing doesn’t happen. There are a lot of other author duties that need my energy too.

My process follows more set boundaries. I sketch a rough outline of the plot and characters, as they appear, and establish a premise and what the main characters seek or need for resolution. Then I write and let the act of writing take me where it will.

Due to the nerve damage in my hands, I write chapter by chapter on my iPad and sandwich chapters together in Word on my computer, when I polish them enough. Typing traditionally is difficult for me. Then, one or two final edits at the end, and the book is ready for beta readers.

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

I am grateful for the early beta readers that pointed out some things in my work, as far as writing a novel goes, that helped me greatly. I started out a solid writer but needed to learn a few things about writing a novel, like POV’s and establishing a well-crafted plot. I’m definitely a better novelist today than I was in 2018.

BOOKS+COFFEE: What is the scariest thing you face as a writer? How do you handle it?

Rejection is always difficult to take, but I’ve come to realize not every reader will like my books. And that’s okay.  For me the scariest beast in the forest reveals itself as marketing. It’s one thing to write a great novel; it’s quite another to sell it.

BOOKS+COFFEE: Is there a book, movie, or song that inspires you when you’re working?

I prefer it quiet and don’t usually write with music or movies playing. When I’m not writing I read or watch some romantic entertainment, to help inspire some romance in my own writing.

BOOKS+COFFEE: As a writer, I’m sure you also love reading. Do you have a favorite book and what do you love about it?

Jane Eyre is my all-time favorite book. It contains everything: romance, mystery, moral dilemmas, tragedy, comedy, poetic prose… I recall the first time I read it, and how those first few paragraphs made me feel. It was an experience, and that’s what every good book should bring to its reader.

BOOKS+COFFEE: What do you think is the most important thing to remember when following your dreams?

Don’t give up. Often dreams don’t work out quite like you imagine, but that doesn’t mean that they won’t. More than anything—dreams are a lot of hard work.

Now, let’s talk a little about your current book…

What’s the title of your current release and is it part of a series?

In a Grove of Maples is the first book in my Sheltering Trees series. To learn more about the series visit: https://jennyknipfer.com/sheltering-trees-series/

Who published In a Grove of Maples?

I am self-published.

Your cover looks amazing. Do you know who the artist is?

The background is a stock photo, and the female image I purchased off a book cover site. Nothing too spectacular there, I’m afraid. However, for my next book, Under the Weeping Willow, I hired a photographer and a model for a photo shoot.

Was there something in particular that inspired you to write this story?

In a Grove of Maples was inspired by my grandparents and their lives as Wisconsin farmers in the late 1890’s. I did not know them or know much about them and always wondered about their lives. I suppose it’s my attempt at reaching into the past to piece them together the best I can.

If there’s one thing a reader will take away from this story, what do you hope it is?

In a Grove of Maples tells the story of Beryl and Edward Massart as newlyweds, embarking on a new life. Through their story they learn to set aside assumptions and their own agendas to create a more solid foundation for their marriage. I hope this inspires readers to do the same. They also learn that pulling together as a team accomplishes more than pulling separately.

Any funny stories you can share about writing this book, or something that sparked the idea for it?

I can’t think of anything funny. The idea came from two directions: wanting to explore what my grandparents’ lives were like and highlighting newlywed life and the crossed wires that can often come with it.

EXCERPT

March 15th, 1898

Dear Diary,


I saw a robin today. Robins remind me of hope. They are the first birds to arrive after the snows of winter come to an end. I hung some clothes on the line, and he flitted down onto the chopping block. He twitched his tail and gazed at me with a slanted head and beady eye. I wonder if he had an inkling his perch helped dispatch one of his bird relatives lately.

The oldest hen, whom I had named Goldie (for her tuft of golden feathers on her head and feet), had given up laying eggs. Much as I hated to do it, she ended up in the stockpot today. Paul and Nola came to check on me, and I asked them to stay for supper.

The chicken bouja didn’t turn out half bad. Nola said she had not tasted anything like it. It’s a basic, Belgian, country chicken stew recipe, which Mama taught me to make, but I add dried green peppers, chili powder, and dollops of bread stuffing on the top.

Paul asked about Edward. I read Edward’s last letter to them both, but I didn’t tell them what I guessed was in between the penned lines: sorrow, regret, and longing.

What is Edward mourning besides our son? What does he want?

I should be bold and ask him, but I’m not. I fear what might be sent to me, scrolled out in elegant script by his hand. His penmanship is worthy of the founding fathers who signed The Declaration of Independence. His alphabet letters form swoops and tails, and the overall effect is elegance.

He tells me of his daily life, but he doesn’t tell me how he feels. Does he miss me? Will this absence make our hearts grow fonder, or will our physical distance be a picture of the way we have grown apart?

If only we could go back, apologize to each other, be kinder, love deeper, and set our foolish fears and pride aside. I do love him, despite it all.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

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

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

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

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

Social Media Links:

Website: https://jennyknipfer.com/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/jennyknipfer/

Facebook: https://facebook.com/jennyknipfe.writer/

Instagram: https://instagram.com/jennyknipferbrave/

Pinterest: https://pinterest.com/jennyknipfer/

Book Bub: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/jenny-knipfer

Book Tour & Interview: Kingfisher by D.K. Marley #historicalfiction #TimeTravel #WW1 #KingArthur @histficchickie @maryanneyarde

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Kingfisher

(The Kingfisher Series, Book One)

By D. K. Marley

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

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

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

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

Buy Links:

Available on #KindleUnlimited.

Universal Link: https://amzn.to/3A94jzi

Amazon UK:
https://www.amazon.co.uk/Kingfisher-Book-1-DK-Marley-ebook/dp/B095M5NJTT

Amazon US:
https://www.amazon.com/Kingfisher-Book-1-DK-Marley-ebook/dp/B095M5NJTT

Amazon CA:
https://www.amazon.ca/Kingfisher-Book-1-DK-Marley-ebook/dp/B095M5NJTT

Amazon AU:
https://www.amazon.com.au/Kingfisher-Book-1-DK-Marley-ebook/dp/B095M5NJTT

AUTHOR INTERVIEW

BOOKS+COFFEE: When did you know you wanted to be a writer?

DK: I have known since a very early age that I possessed a love for books, and for creating worlds in my imagination. I used to act out the story of Alice in Wonderland at the age of six and seven, so when my grandmother, an English literature teacher, discovered me sitting on the floor in front of her bookcase at the age of eleven reading her college textbooks “The Complete Works of Shakespeare” and “English Literature”, she gifted them to me that day and started me on the path of becoming a writer. In high school, my English Lit teacher was also instrumental in pushing me forward, and I was the editor-in-chief for our high school literary magazine, as well as winning medals in the regional short story competitions every year. I wrote my first novel before graduation, which is still unpublished but remains a reminder of how far I have come on this journey.

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

DK: As I mentioned above, I’ve been writing since high school. After graduation, writing was put on the back burner as I took a job right out of school as a graphic designer, and shortly afterwards, married and started a family. When my daughter was two years old, I started playing with writing again but wasn’t serious. Not until 1997, the month after Princess Diana died, when I made my first trip to England did the spark reignite after a visit to the Globe Theatre. The premise behind whether or not Shakespeare being the true author of the plays hit me and I started writing the moment I returned to the states. After years and years of researching the plays and sonnets, I was only half finished by the time I attended the Writer’s Retreat Workshop in 2006. After learning a great deal and realizing my story was not up to par, I shelved it for many more years. In 2015, everything changed. My husband I suffered a great personal tragedy, losing our daughter, son-in-law, and grandbaby to a drunk driver. Death and grief impacted us in ways I cannot describe but after attending grief therapy, my counselor suggested a return to writing as a way to cope with the immense feelings. I published that shelved novel in 2018, self-publishing as a way to regain some of my lost power. After six years, I now have five books published and I have to say, writing has definitely helped me to cope.

BOOKS+COFFEE: 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?

DK: Yes, I do have a routine as I am very obsessive-compulsive. I enjoy writing when I first wake up and pushing myself to keep going, especially if I am on a good flow. Also, I plan for writing in advance; in other words, I will tell myself that ‘I am going to write 2000 words tomorrow’ and that seems to hold me accountable the next day. Snacks? Hmm, most often I snack on White Cheddar Cheez-Its, and my favorite tea is ‘Breakfast in Paris’ with lavender honey.

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

DK: The best writing advice I’ve ever had came from the instructors at the Writer’s Retreat Workshop. Jason Sitzes and Lorin Oberweger (of Free Expressions Literary Services and the Donald Maass Agency) spurred me forward on my writing journey, and to this day their words resonate in my head and heart.

BOOKS+COFFEE: What is the scariest thing you face as a writer? How do you handle it?

DK: The scariest thing? I’m not sure anything scares me anymore. Losing a child, the scariest thing a parent can go through, puts other things into perspective. I’ve faced the scariest event ever, all the rest is a cinch.

BOOKS+COFFEE: Is there a book, movie, or song that inspires you when you’re working?

DK: I adore the songs of Enya, and Andrea Bocelli. I think if inspiration is found in a voice, then these two people have it in abundance.

BOOKS+COFFEE: As a writer, I’m sure you also love reading. Do you have a favorite book and what do you love about it?

DK: Yikes, this is a hard question! I can’t pinpoint just one, so maybe my favorite ten?

  1. The Shadow of the Wind by Carlos Ruiz Zafon – powerful and evocative
  2. East of Eden by John Steinbeck – this was my daughter’s favorite book, so it’s mine, as well.
  3. The Great Gatsby by F. Scott FitzGerald – the words, just love the words!!
  4. The Mists of Avalon by Marion Zimmer Bradley – such incredible world-building
  5. Cold Mountain by Charles Frazier – again, such beauty and emotion in the words
  6. I, Elizabeth by Rosalind Miles – one of the first Tudor-era novels I read and loved
  7. Columns of Fire by Ken Follett – I loved this one because of my own book “Blood and Ink”
  8. The Far Pavilions by M. M. Kaye – the very first historical novel I read as a teenager
  9. The London Scene by Virginia Woolf – actually, everything by Virginia Woolf!!
  10. Hamlet by William Shakespeare – well, obviously.

BOOKS+COFFEE: What do you think is the most important thing to remember when following your dreams?

DK: Interestingly enough, I adore this quote by Ray Kroc, the businessman who founded McDonalds. There is utter truth in the quote: ““Press on. Nothing in the world can take the place of persistence. Talent will not; nothing is more common than unsuccessful men with talent. Genius will not; the world is full of educated derelicts. Persistence and determination alone are omnipotent.”

Now, let’s talk a little about your current book…

What’s the title of your current release and is it part of a series?

Kingfisher (Book One in the Kingfisher Series)

Who published Kingfisher?

My own imprint – The White Rabbit Publishing

Your cover looks amazing. Do you know who the artist is?

Yes, I am the book cover designer, my company – White Rabbit Arts. I’ve been a graphic designer for 37 + years from the day I graduated in 1984 to today, with countless experience working on magazine covers, layouts, photography, logo design, book covers, branding, and more. I design book covers for historical fiction authors at The Historical Fiction Company – www.thehistoricalfictionpress.com/book-design-packages

Was there something in particular that inspired you to write this story?

Yes, my love for Arthurian literature and in the words of Toni Morrison “If there is a book you want to read and it has not been written, then you must write it yourself.”

If there’s one thing a reader will take away from this story, what do you hope it is?

There is hope beyond suffering.

Any funny stories you can share about writing this book, or something that sparked the idea for it?

No funny stories… sorry!

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

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

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

Social Media Links:

Website: https://www.thehistoricalfictioncompany.com

Blog: https://www.thehistoricalfictionpress.com/hist-fic-chickie-blog

Podcast: https://www.thehistoricalfictionpress.com/podcast

Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/historicalfictionbookclub

Twitter: https://twitter.com/histficchickie

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/therealdkmarley.author

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/thehfpress/?hl=en

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/thehistoricalfictioncompany

Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/DK-Marley/e/B003MS4JPE

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4091669.D_K_Marley

Book Tour: Tho I Be Mute by Heather Miller #historicalfiction @HMHFR

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Book Title: ‘Tho I Be Mute

Author: Heather Miller

Publication Date: 13th July 2021

Publisher: Defiance Press and Publishing

Page Length: 340 Pages

Genre: Historical Fiction/Romance

Home. Heritage. Legacy. Legend.

In 1818, Cherokee John Ridge seeks a young man’s education at the Foreign Mission School in Cornwall, Connecticut. While there, he is overcome with sickness yet finds solace and love with Sarah, the steward’s quiet daughter. Despite a two-year separation, family disapproval, defamatory editorials, and angry mobs, the couple marries in 1824.

Sarah reconciles her new family’s spirituality and her foundational Christianity. Although, Sarah’s nature defies her new family’s indifference to slavery. She befriends Honey, half-Cherokee and half-African, who becomes Sarah’s voice during John’s extended absences.

Once arriving on Cherokee land, John argues to hold the land of the Cherokees and that of his Creek neighbors from encroaching Georgian settlers. His success hinges upon his ability to temper his Cherokee pride with his knowledge of American law. Justice is not guaranteed.

Rich with allusions to Cherokee legends, ‘Tho I Be Mute speaks aloud; some voices are heard, some are ignored, some do not speak at all, compelling readers to listen to the story of a couple who heard the pleas of the Cherokee.

Buy Links:

Universal Amazon Link: https://books2read.com/u/mV6p5r

Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Tho-Be-Mute-Heather-Miller-ebook/dp/B08ZB276Y2

Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/Tho-Be-Mute-Heather-Miller-ebook/dp/B08ZB276Y2

Amazon CA: https://www.amazon.ca/Tho-Be-Mute-Heather-Miller-ebook/dp/B08ZB276Y2

Amazon AU: https://www.amazon.com.au/Tho-Be-Mute-Heather-Miller-ebook/dp/B08ZB276Y2

Excerpt:

Chapter 1: Daughter of the Sun, Clarinda Ridge, daughter of John and Sarah Ridge

Storm clouds stole the last daylight while I removed my coat. In the sudden darkness, my hand reached for the cold pewter candle holder, topped with beeswax stick and wick. Carrying it to the wood-burning stove near the window, I pulled a twig from a thin broom, its usefulness long forgotten, and removed a switch, touching it to an ember in the banked fire. Smoke billowed into the cabin from the stove’s door. The switch sparked. I torched the candlewick in its man-made rest and returned to the wood-burning stove, dragging the chair behind me—the tree’s extension of my hand. Opening the stove door and loading the iron beast with oak, wood smoked, ignited. This weather premeditated more of its kind: a harsh, blowing fall that doused and chilled the bones of those left outside under tonight’s storm’s revenge.

I removed my leather shoes and woolen socks, stretching out my legs near the fire. Digaleni stirred and stood, expecting the stove’s radiant heat. He stretched his hind legs, extending his hindquarters high as his ears weighed his head low. He slunk for a scratch behind his namesake—Digaleni, ears in English—and sank low in front of the stove. I propped my feet atop his shoulder blades, both of us content to remain for the upcoming hours of this full moon’s rebellious storm.

Anxious rain pelted the roof with innumerable drops. Water collected in an old iron pot from a small hole in the roof where the oak’s branches grew through weaker boards. Neither limb nor rain intruded, was only a welcomed, accustomed guest. Like two people sitting with their backs together, my home and oak tree held one another upright.

I grabbed a spool and my hoop from Momma’s sewing box beside my chair. Using my teeth to separate a strand, I licked the thread to make it straight and held the needle steady to weave the cotton thread through the eye. With the muslin-covered hoop angled in my lap, I stitched from practice and skill. With continued minute and deliberate gestures, a border formed with each stitch. Then, with keen eyes, I rethreaded the needle. This time, instead of thread, I used a strand of my hair, licking the end before threading the eye.

From here, I sewed with my eyes closed, each stitch guided by touch alone. The door rattled against the wind. Not hearing, I sewed one petal of the incomplete moonflower. I must complete this task tonight. Opening my eyes, I saw the shape of the full bloom, filling with my hair, sewn by my fingers. I continued to the next. 

Digaleni stood with a slow-rumbled woof to the door while I sewed and prayed to the Great Spirit for an hour longer. The rain beat and blew. With one last elaborate pull and knot, the poisonous moonflower was complete but starkly different from the one between the pages. It contrasted in color from the bloom, as do I, with my blood from two nations. 

From exhaustion, the rain ceased its tantrum. The moon looked peacefully again upon the Earth. While the Thunder Brother, the one that lost the game, growled and rumbled with resignation from the far side of the mountain. I moved to my bed and dreamt of bird spirits who lost their wings and transformed into great white snakes.

Daylight found my eyes in the eastern sky’s morning haze. It turned colder. Digaleni pawed beside the door as I rubbed my eyes against the day’s masked sun. I moved first to sit and then to stand and walked to lift the latch. Digaleni bounded down the steps and pawed at the grassy ground. I could not see what he sought. Then, his body contorted and limped away, darkened within my standing shadow. He fell on his side, curled, and did not move again. With hurried steps, I reached for him. The rattler struck, jaws spread wide, clamping onto my outstretched forearm. I gasped with escaping breath—soundless. 

Poison seeped into my blood. My eyes clouded as I fell. My body spilled down the stairs. The snake slithered across my tousled strands into the grass. Having completed his quest, he rattled in triumph. Continuous ticks pulsed in time with my failing heart. Owl’s wings shuttered, and he flew northward.

About the Author

Heather Miller

As an English educator, Heather Miller has spent twenty-three years teaching her students the author’s craft. Now, she is writing it herself, hearing voices from the past.

Miller’s foundation began in the theatre, through performance storytelling. She can tap dance, stage-slap someone, and sing every note from Les Misérables. Her favorite role is that of a fireman’s wife and mom to three: a trumpet player, a future civil engineer, and a future RN. There is only one English major in her house.

While researching, writing, and teaching, she is also working towards her M FA in Creative Writing. Heather’s corndog-shaped dachshund, Sadie, deserves an honorary degree.

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Guest Post: Ariadne Unraveled by Zenobia Neil #HistoricalFiction #HistoricalFantasy #AncientGreece @ZenobiaNeil @maryanneyarde

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Ariadne Unraveled by Zenobia Neil

Publication Date: July 7, 2021

Publisher: Hypatia Books

Page Length: 345 pages

Genre: Mythic retelling/Historical Romance

Ariadne, high priestess of Crete, grew up duty-bound to the goddess Artemis. If she takes a husband, she must sacrifice him to her goddess after no more than three years of marriage. For this reason, she refuses to love any man, until a mysterious stranger arrives on her island.

The stranger is Dionysus, the new god of wine who empowers women and breaks the rules of the old gods. He came to Crete seeking vengeance against Artemis. He never expected to fall in love.

Furious that Dionysus would dare meddle with her high priestess, Artemis threatens to kill Ariadne if Dionysus doesn’t abandon her. Heartbroken, the new god leaves Crete, vowing to become better than the Olympians.

From the bloody labyrinth and the shadows of Hades to the halls of Olympus, Dionysus must find a way to defy Artemis and unite with his true love. Forced to betray her people, Ariadne discovers her own power to choose between the goddess she pledged herself to and the god she loves.

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Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B09647R6CF

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From the Author…

We’ve all heard that history is told by the victors, but it took me a while to realize that this applies to the ancient world and Greek mythology as well.

I’ve long been fascinated by the Minoans, Crete and the story of Theseus and the Minotaur, though I always had questions about it. The myth goes that Minos, a son of Zeus, was given a beautiful white bull as acknowledgement that he was king. Minos was so in awe of this beautiful bull that instead of sacrificing it, he put it among his own bulls and sacrificed another in its place. In anger, Poseidon made Minos’s wife Pasiphae lust after the bull. She got the famous engineer Daedalus to make a wooden cow that she could hide inside… and nine months later the Minotaur was born.

This story has always been strange and disturbing. Years ago I joined an amazing Facebook group that focuses on Modern Minoan Paganism—a testament to how powerful Minoan culture is. At some point, a member mentioned how this story of Pasiphae, queen of Crete, lusting after a bull was a great story to tell about one’s enemy. What a way for a patriarchal culture like Athens to insult a powerful witch-queen than to say she lusted after the bull and bore a monster. What a fantastic story to tell that the monster demanded the sacrifice of Athenian youths, and that the cultural hero Theseus was the one to kill the monster and free Athens from this horrible blood sacrifice.

What better way to slander one’s enemy than to tell this story and to have it be believed and recorded thousands of years later? I was inspired by this idea because I’ve always been interested at looking at history from different perspectives. We currently think of Crete as part of Greece, but Minoan civilization was its own culture for a very long time.

I’ve always been interested in Dionysus and the conflicting myths about his origins. About five years ago, I read Bacchus: A Biography by Andrew Dalby. In my other novels about the ancient world, I’ve made a few jokes about how all children with unknown fathers are said to be the children of gods. Andrew Dalby recounts how Dionysus’s mother Semele was impregnated by Zeus. The story I had always heard is that Semele was tricked by Hera in disguise to ask Zeus to give her a promise. Once he promised, Semele asked him to show himself in his true form. Zeus begged her not to, knowing seeing his essence would kill her. But Semele insisted and even though Zeus tried to show only the slightest bit of himself, she was incinerated. Zeus scooped the essence of Dionysus up, tore open his thigh and carried the baby to term.

What I didn’t know until I read Dalby’s book is that there was another story that Semele, pregnant by a palace slave, claimed Zeus was the father. When lightning struck her bedroom, everyone thought it was divine retribution for her lies. I began to imagine a young Dionysus, unsure of his godhood. Unsure of what kind of god he wanted to be.

My latest novel Ariadne Unraveled: A Mythic Retelling is a look at the conflicting myths of Ariadne and Dionysus, but it’s also a kind of coming-of-age story for Dionysus. Dionysus is the last god to become an Olympian and the only Olympian who is a demi-god. This gives him a rare opportunity to be different from the other Olympians.

Another huge inspiration for me to write Ariadne Unraveled was to reimagine Ariadne herself. She is often mentioned as a sidenote in Theseus’s story. She is portrayed as a pawn—a princess who falls in love with a stranger who is her father’s enemy. She helps Theseus kill her half-brother the Minotaur.

In most versions of the myth, Daedalus, is the one who gives Ariadne the thread to help Theseus escape the labyrinth. Ariadne has no agency and no motivations for the things she does. Then, after sacrificing everything for the Athenian hero, he abandons her on Naxos.

Some myths say that Athena told Theseus to abandon her or that Dionysus came to him in a dream and claimed Ariadne for himself. In all the myths Ariadne is nothing more than a girl, a daughter of the king, the lover of the hero, the wife of the god. I wanted to give her back the power a Minoan priestess would have possessed. I wanted to tell a Greek myth from a Minoan perspective. And I wanted to re-empower women in the ancient world and depict Minoan culture not as a patriarchy as we often see in the Hellenistic world, but as a culture where women have freedom and Ariadne had her own motivation and strength. I was inspired to write Ariadne Unraveled to tell a story that was written by the victors from the other side and give a mythical woman back her power.

About the Author

Zenobia Neil was named after an ancient warrior queen who fought against the Romans. She writes historical romance about the mythic past and Greek and Roman gods having too much fun. Visit her at ZenobiaNeil.com

Social Media Links:

Website: www.zenobianeil.com

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Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/Zenobia-Neil/e/B01KY86Q46

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