The Closed Room & Narrow Stairs of an Author's Mind by @MHartnerAuthor #AmWriting #Historical

Inside the Mind of An Author

In the Darkness brought on by a closed room and narrow stairs, I slowly ascend to the top and push the attic floorboard to the side. This stairwell, conveniently hidden in a second floor wall, has been very dusty and full of cobwebs. I’m really not sure what to expect when I go into the attic. I have, however, heard strange noises.

Climbing up into the attic, into the mind of this author, I look around. The walls are cluttered with post it notes, and most of them had small symbols and some writing. There were papers that had fallen to the floor, and the whole area looked like an old bomb shelter.

I’m immediately dodging the many different children who are running around. The voices that each one uses to taunt the others are all different.

I stop one of them. His name is James.

“Are there any others around?”

“Oh, there are plenty.”

“Where are they?”

“Sitting in a corner of the filing room in the back. They’re waiting for their opportunity to come join the fun.”

“What are they waiting for?”

“Why, everyone knows that they’re waiting to be heard. Not all of us characters can be heard at the same time. Sometimes, he listens to three or four of us for a short time, and sometimes he listens to one of us for a long time. But, we’re all here. Waiting for our chance to be heard.”

“So why are you three out here running around?”

“We’ve already been heard. He’s concentrating on us right now, and it’s our chance to play and rest while he figures out what he wants us to do next.”

“How many are in the back room?”

“The last I checked, the room was crammed, and the waiting list was endless. Lots of voices like us want to be heard. We want to tell our stories.”

James escaped from my vision and went back to running around.

When I saw them return, I also saw them carrying long sticks, using them as play swords. I beat a hasty retreat from the mind of this author.

James Crofter was ripped from his family at age 11. 
Within a year the prince was a pauper in a foreign land. 
Is nature stronger than nurture? And even if it is, can James find the happiness he so richly desires? 

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Genre - Historical Fiction, Romance

Rating – PG

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#Excerpt from ANNA'S SECRET by Margaret Westlie @MargaretWestlie #Historical #AmReading

Angus paused at the top of the rise that overlooked Anna’s house. Its setting was framed by the distant blue of the Northumberland Strait. The whitewashed house, trimmed in red, nestled in the hollow, flanked by the two barns and the workshop, also whitewashed. A long row of tall fir trees grew close behind, protecting the little farmhouse and its outbuildings from the vicious winter winds that could sweep across Prince Edward Island burying small houses, such as this, in drifts up to the eaves, and freezing a person to his very marrow. Angus shivered and hastened down the track.

I helped Ian build the big barn, and my father and my grandfather helped his father build this house, he thought. Anna planted those chestnut trees by the front door the day they were married. They’ve grown tall since then, but they’ve never produced nuts. A strange thing. He rounded the corner of the house and knocked on the door.

“Are you home, Ian?” He pushed the door open with the toe of his shoe.

“I am.” Ian’s voice sounded tired and far away.

Angus stepped into the sunlit kitchen, the bloody axe forgotten in his hands. His friend looked ill, weary-faced and worn, his eyes were red-rimmed and blood shot. His thick grey beard was still streaked with black and the hair on his head was grey too, except for the cowlick of black springing up from the front above his right eyebrow. He seemed rumpled and unkempt, and a little wild. He hunched his broad shoulders as if to ward off a blow.

“Where’s Donald?” asked Angus.

“Finishing the chores.” Ian was standing by the unlit stove, his hands busy shaving kindling off a stick of wood with the kitchen knife. “Have you found her, then?” He stared hard at the axe in Angus’ hands.

“We found her. Neil found her. They’re bringing her soon.” Angus followed Ian’s gaze, for the first time realizing that he still held the weapon. He almost dropped it in his haste to conceal it behind his back. “I’m sorry, I forgot to set this down.” His ruddy cheeks turned a darker shade of red.

“She’s dead, is she?” Ian stopped making kindling and stood waiting for the answer.

“She’s been murdered.”

Ian stood silently taking in the words. “It was bound to happen,” he said at last.

“Now why would you say that?”

Ian looked back at his friend, his blue eyes filled with tears. He blinked hard. “I knew about her from the very first time, and every time after that.”

“You didn’t…?”

“I suppose that’s what they’ll all be saying when the word gets around.” He sighed. “No, it wasn’t I, though I have more reason than anyone. Is that the weapon?”

“It would seem so.” Angus drew the axe out from behind his back.

“Whose is it?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never seen it before. I suppose we’ll have to notify the constable. This thing’s too big for us. Though what good he’ll be, I don’t know.”

Ian stood in silence for some seconds, then said, “I was just making Donald and me a bite of breakfast. Will you have some?” He turned toward the stove.

“I wouldn’t trouble you at a time like this. I should be making you breakfast.”

Ian shrugged. “We must go on, and to do that we must eat.” He began preparing the meal.

Anna Gillis, the midwife and neighbour in Mattie’s Story, has been found killed. The close-knit community is deeply shaken by this eruption of violence, and neighbours come together to help one another and to discover the perpetrator. But the answer lies Anna’s secret, long guarded by Old Annie, the last of the original Selkirk Settlers, and the protagonist of An Irregular Marriage. Join the community! Read Anna’s Secret and other novels by Margaret A. Westlie.

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Genre – Fiction, mystery, historical

Rating – G

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Website http://www.margaretwestlie.com

#Excerpt from LOCK READY by James Rada Jr. @JimRada #Historical #CivilWar #AmReading

This excerpt shows how conditions were in the many Civil War hospitals and Elizabeth Fitzgerald’s compassion for those soldiers in her care.

Elizabeth sat next to a young soldier who wouldn’t meet her gaze. He looked young enough to be George’s age, though she suspected he was older.

“How are you?” Elizabeth asked.

The young man didn’t reply. He glanced at her and then looked away. Elizabeth wasn’t offended. She was used to seeing shell-shocked soldiers. The problem would be if he remained that way.

She set down a clean uniform on the edge of the bed and gently pulled back the blanket. The soldier didn’t resist.

“We need to get you out of those filthy clothes and dress you in some clean ones. You’ll feel a lot better once we get all of that dirt off of you.” The nurses had all learned to carry on a one-sided conversation with the soldiers. Hearing a woman’s voice had proven to be soothing to the wounded soldiers. It reminded them of home and their wives and mothers. It encouraged pleasant memories and helped keep their minds off the horror they had endured.

As Elizabeth began undressing the young soldier, he grabbed her hand. She looked at him but didn’t say anything. His eyes were wide with fear. She gently pried his hand off of hers. He didn’t resist her.

“It’s all right. It’s going to be a little embarrassing for both of us, but probably you more than me. I’ve been trained to do this. You need to be clean. It will help you get better,” she said softly.

Elizabeth had probably been more scared than this soldier when she undressed her first wounded man. She wasn’t sure how she would react. Would she gag at the man’s wounds or stare at his private parts? Her hands had shaken throughout that first washing and she had done her best to allow the man his dignity by focusing her attention on his face. Luckily for her, the man had been unconscious. Those were the only men Mrs. Carlyle had let her clean at first. That had been four months and a couple hundred soldiers ago.

Elizabeth slowly pulled the soldier’s uniform off. It was still caked with blood and dirt. It had quickly become obvious that the soldiers who were kept clean after an operation tended to survive better. Elizabeth would rather be embarrassed than see a soldier die so she let her face turn red but washed until the soldiers’ skins were clean of dirt and blood. She paid particular attention to cleaning any festering sores and burns.

She was particularly careful not to cause the young soldier any additional physical pain by irritating an unseen wound. It was best to try and salvage the uniform so it could be washed and given to another soldier, but sometimes that was impossible. Shrapnel and simple wear and tear turned a uniform into threads. Elizabeth tossed the man’s shirt and jacket into a pile on the floor. They could both be reused once they had been washed a few times. They just might not be reused by the original owner. When soldiers left the hospital, they were given a uniform that fit, not necessarily the uniform that they had come into the hospital wearing.

Next, she started wiping off the man’s legs. He had taken shrapnel in both of his legs, which had also ripped up his pants. The cloth was so dirty that he could barely tell that it had been blue. The legs had been bandaged. Maybe he would be able to keep his legs since the doctors hadn’t amputated them. If there was any doubt, the doctors usually amputated the limb. She would have to watch him closely for any signs of gangrene.

While his legs might have been saved, his pants were a loss. Elizabeth cut them off of him with a pair of scissors so she wouldn’t have to move him around.

She used a cloth dipped in warm water to wash the soldier as he stared at the ceiling. She could feel his muscles twitching nervously as she slid the cloth from his chest to his stomach. Elizabeth kept the man’s private parts under the sheet and did her work as quickly as she could. She talked to him about things happening in Washington and her family as she worked. It helped keep both their minds off of what she was doing.

When she finished, she dressed the man in a clean uniform and changed the sheets on his bed so they would be dry and clean.

“There that wasn’t so bad, was it?” Elizabeth said as she stood up to go.

The soldier grabbed her arm again. He didn’t squeeze it. He simply clamped onto her wrist.

Elizabeth smiled at him and patted his hand. “I wish I could stay longer, but I’ve got to help with all of the other wounded. I’ll be around, though. I promise I’ll come back and visit. After all, I want to see you walk out of here on your own.”

The soldier let his arm drop down to the bed. Elizabeth turned and walked away.

The Civil War split the United States and now it has split the Fitzgerald Family. Although George Fitzgerald has returned from the war, his sister Elizabeth Fitzgerald has chosen to remain in Washington to volunteer as a nurse. 

The ex-Confederate spy, David Windover, has given up on his dream of being with Alice Fitzgerald and is trying to move on with his life in Cumberland, Md. Alice and her sons continue to haul coal along the 184.5-mile-long C&O Canal. It is dangerous work, though, during war time because the canal runs along the Potomac River and between the North and South. Having had to endured death and loss already, Alice wonders whether remaining on the canal is worth the cost. 

She wants her family reunited and safe, but she can’t reconcile her feelings between David and her dead husband. Her adopted son, Tony, has his own questions that he is trying to answer. He wants to know who he is and if his birth mother ever loved him. As he tries to find out more about his birth mother and father, he stumbles onto a plan by Confederate sympathizers to sabotage the canal and burn dozens of canal boats. He enlists David’s help to try and disrupt the plot before it endangers his new family, but first they will have find out who is behind the plot.

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Genre – Historical Fiction

Rating – PG-13

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Website jamesrada.com

Marilyn Holdsworth on Why She Writes @m_holdsworth #AmWriting #AmReading #Contemporary

As a novelist, I draw on many real life experiences to provide background for my books. After completing studies in Literature and History at Occidental College, I became a staff writer on a travel magazine, and throughout my career I have traveled extensively all over the world. Because I love horses, I owned and trained them. I support horse rescue and wild mustang preservation. Based on my experience with horses and my research on abuse issues, I wrote Pegasus.

As a descendant of James Monroe, I did extensive research at the James Monroe Museum in Virginia about him and his wife Elizabeth Kortright Monroe. I also visited their home, Ashlawn/Highland in Albemarle County. This resulted in my novel, The Beautiful American. Making Wishes, was based partly on my experiences as creator, owner and operator of a greeting card company.

Why do you write?
I enjoy writing. I like to create characters, stories and word pictures. i am a much happier person when i am writing and creating. It's an important part of who I am.

Have you always enjoyed writing?
Yes. I have enjoyed writing since I was a little girl.

What are you most proud of in your personal life?
My family.

What books did you love growing up?
I loved horse stories like The Black Stallion by Walter Farley and all the books by Margarite Henry. I also loved the Nancy Drew Mysteries.

Where do you get your inspiration from?
I observe people and situations everywhere I go and I keep files of ideas from articles in newspapers and magazines.

Do you plan to publish more books?
Yes. I plan to continue writing and publishing. I am currently writing another novel.

How do you write?
I keep a tablet and pen with me always. And I keep paper and pen next to my bed. I often wake up with ideas. Also, I work on my computer.

What is the last book you purchased? Tell us about it.
The Countess and the King by Susan Holloway Scott.
It's the story of Katherine Sedley, the Countess of Dorchester and King James II of England. It's an interesting historical novel about a lady who was ahead of her time and lived by her own rules. It gives a much more sympathetic portrayal of James II than I had always thought of him.

What is your favorite quote and why?
"There is nothing good or bad but thinking makes it so." William Shakespeare. I am a firm believer that attitude and how you look at things makes all the difference.

What are you most proud of accomplishing so far in your life?
Raising my two wonderful children.

Elloree Prince is an attractive, creative young woman who marries a wealthy businessman, Tom Randall. After courting his bride with unrelenting determination, Tom moves her into old-moneyed Oak View, where generations of Randalls have lived for years. Outwardly, Elloree appears to settle into raising their two sons within Oak View's stifling social structure, but inwardly, she yearns for her artistic work. 

An unexpected phone call from Mark Williams, her former employer, offers her the career opportunity of a lifetime, and she must make a choice. She is torn between her devotion to her sons and her love for her work. Her decision to return to Wishes, Inc. brings dramatic life changes to her and the people she loves.

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Genre - Women's fiction

Rating – PG-13

"Abby Long is thrilled when she offers the winning bid for an antique desk at an auction. With its intricately inlaid woods and elegant style, the desk is perfect for Abby; it is the gift she promised herself to finally celebrate her thriving antique business. She has no idea that the antique desk holds a secret that will lead her on a fascinating, life-changing journey back in time.

When Abby discovers a hidden diary stuffed inside a secret compartment in the desk, she can hardly wait to read the spidery, faded script. As she carefully turns the tattered pages, she reads the captivating story of two remarkable women from opposite backgrounds who somehow manage to form an unforgettable bond against the backdrop of a fledgling America struggling to find its place in the world. Elizabeth Kortright Monroe, the wife of James Monroe, and Jasmine, a young slave girl, develop an extraordinary relationship as they are united by pivotal historic events, political intrigues, and personal tragedies.

 From a bucolic Virginia plantation to the bloodied, starving streets of post-revolutionary Paris, this powerful tale follows the lives of two courageous women from the past as they quietly influence—and inspire—a woman of today’s world."

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Genre - Historical fiction

Rating – G

Widowed at thirty, Hannah Bradley is a successful journalist focusing on animal abuse issues. An accidental meeting introduces her to lawyer, Winston Caughfield III. Drawn to Hannah’s gentle beauty and fierce commitment to her work, Win joins her in a fight to save wild mustangs from slaughter. Together they rescue a badly injured horse with a mysterious background. Hannah’s search to discover the animal’s true identity leads them into a web of black marketeering and international intrigue. 

Action packed with crisp colorful dialogue the story propels the reader to a race against time conclusion. Marilyn Holdsworth delivers a gripping tale of mystery, adventure and romance guaranteed to hold the interest and capture the heart. She brings true-life characters together with real-life issues to create a fast-paced irresistible story.

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Genre - Contemporary fiction

Rating – PG

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Website  http://marilynholdsworth.com/

Blog http://marilynholdsworth.com/blog/

Holderby’s Landing by J. D. Ferguson #HistFic #AmReading #Excerpt

The banks of the Ohio River lay back like a great step from the sweeping green-brown water. Flat for a hundred yards, the rise forms a field that during winter rains is three feet under brown flood, but in this warm spring supports a field of fresh corn stalks almost as high as the water had been but a short time before. On the eastern edge of corn and atop yet another bank, River Road meanders between huge trees and in perfect sync with the twists and turns of the mighty water. Beyond the elevated road the field broadens to half a mile and separates two bald narrow hillocks that stand like guideposts. Atop the southernmost hill, and the taller of the two, a white two-story clapboard house faces the river. A collection of out-buildings, all white and of various sizes, run the ridgeline behind and culminate in the larger body of a huge barn, drab weather-beaten grey against the deep blue morning sky. The hill, with so steep a drop on the river side, gradually declines to the rear. The drive to the house runs from River Road along the base of the hill to the rear of the formation, there it crosses a mountain stream fed by hillside runoff during wetter periods, and always by the spring at its head which originally gave it birth.

Primus Rose notes it all from his open carriage. He muses silently, as he most always does upon entering these grounds, how the location of the Cross home so typifies the owner. Commanding the river and flat land surround, the house proper can be approached only from the rear, through the defensive positions of out-buildings, fences, corrals, and dogs. The front of the house stares with dark glassy eyes into the Ohio Territory across the expanse of roiling river, and speaks to all who view it from the river or the road, there is little welcome here, but what there may be is through the back door.

The carriage, a kindness provided by his flock, albeit at his own manipulation, crosses the sturdy wooden bridge with a rattle of planking, and proceeds up the grade with a fresh persistence from the two-horse team. Primus enjoys the ride to the Cross house. Always has. It suits him for some odd reason. The fact that the trip ends by sitting in the same room with Philby Cross would dampen the enjoyment from most outings, and most people, but it has little impact on Right Reverend Primus Rose nor on his delight in the ride.

From beneath the wide, flat brim of his black beaver hat – an affectation of his own design similar to the Boss-of-the-Plains but with higher and sharper crown – deep violet eyes stare at the passing trees with a fixed attention. As the calash exits the trees, bright sunlight flashes, exaggerating in the milk white face the almost permanent squint held by his eyes. His sensual, full and feminine lips crease into a wan smile at the sight of Cross’s guard dogs growling in menace at the approaching buggy. He knows from experience that the dogs will growl and snarl, and upon his alighting from the carriage, will plant themselves immediately at his heels, but will not bite without threat being evident. If you pay them no mind, and move as if you belong here, they will warily allow your movement to the back door. With a jerk the coach stops, and Primus does just that.

When Justin Thorne, coddled student and heir apparent to Sylvan Springs Plantation, is forced to find his heritage, his manhood, and his destiny, in the space of one brief spring, all hell breaks loose on the banks of the Ohio River. His Virginia of 1836 is a time of transition and enormous growth. Northern industrial might and southern aristocracy, abolitionist movements and slave cultures, collide in turmoil and lay bare the raw needs and desires of those intrepid spirits confronting the frontiers of the antebellum South. Coming of age is an expected result of time and circumstance. It happens to all who live so long, but to each within the dictates of their own lives. 

The process is on-going and ever dynamic. Every person is a precious product resulting from the effects of nature and nurture. One's ancestry, culture, and environment collude in myriad ways to make us; all as different as each life's story, and as singular as snowflakes. This theme is played out over-and-over throughout the world and throughout history, in millions of places like Holderby's Landing; as similar and as different as each human is to the other. Holderby's Landing is a single glimpse in time at the coming of age of a land, a community, and a few determined souls thrown together in love, strife and chance. What they make of the time, the opportunities and themselves is the story told and the living breath of this book.

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Genre – Historical Fiction

Rating – PG-13

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Website www.jdferguson.net

Message of the Pendant by Thomas Thorpe #Historical #Thriller #AmReading

After a few moments, a low voice resonated behind them. "Have you got the message?"

Startled, they turned to face the dark outline of a man’s stocky frame, shorter than Francois.

"What are you talking about?"  the boy, Francois answered.

"Minister Fouche sent me to make sure you reach your destination. Is it secure?" the dark form spoke softly.

Francois relaxed a bit. He reached unconsciously into his pocket and felt the metal object. "I assure you it's safe."

"May I see it?" the man persisted.

The lad hesitated. The man sounded legitimate and seemed to know about his mission. He wanted to do his duty and show them he could be trusted. Since the real message was safe, he decided to show the pendant. In darkness, Francois did not see a thin smile forming on the man's lips as he withdrew the object.

"Here it is!" he announced with satisfaction.

In an instant, the man grabbed Francois’ wrist. With his other hand, he swung a fist into the young man’s stomach. Nina screamed, paralyzed with fear. The seaman wrestled the pendant loose and drew his arm around the lad's neck. The surprised youth could barely struggle as he was dragged toward the rail. In one swift motion, Jean Noire lifted the young emissary over his head and heaved him into the darkness.

Nina cried out once more. He turned from the rail, but sounds of voices warned that others were climbing onto the deck. The man paused for an instant, then ran off toward the stern.

Nina lunged to the side, but could see only blackness beyond their vessel. She called his name without reply. She began to sob uncontrollably as other passengers arrived. A man put his hand on her shoulder. "What is it girl?"

Between gasps, she managed to say: "Francois! Overboard!"

The ship was brought about, but no trace was found of the young man who wanted to be a hero.

William Darmon and wife Elizabeth were powerful figures who in 1818 set society's pace from expansive grounds known as Mayfair Hall. When a family member is murdered, a mysterious pendant is found containing a long lost request by Napoleon Bonaparte for an American mission to burn down Parliament buildings. The couple sets out on an action filled pursuit of the killer. While interviewing Henry Clay in post-war Maryland about the failed mission, they uncover evidence of a conspiracy to free the Emperor from exile. The Darmons infiltrate the cadre, but a shipwreck off the coast of Scotland, a firestorm at the Darmon's Manor and a harrowing assault on the Island of St. Helena loom before the mystery can be unraveled.

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Genre – Mystery, Historical, Thriller

Rating – PG

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Website www.darmonmysteries.com

Alex Mueck on Family, Friends & Writing @AlexMueck #Humor #AmWriting #AmReading

 

Do you find it hard to share your work?

No.  I have friends that also write and we share and help eachother.

Is your family supportive? Do your friends support you?

Yes, my family is extremely supportive and my friends have been brilliant as well.

Do you plan to publish more books?

I plan to never stop writing.

What else do you do to make money, other than write? It is rare today for writers to be full time…

I work at a Bank/Broker-Dealer.

What other jobs have you had in your life?

When I was young, I did it all, mowed lawns, delivered newspapers, shoveled snow.  Later, I did any odd job from selling shoes to working in a fast food chain.  But since college I have worked on Wall Street.

If you could study any subject at university what would you pick?

Ancient History – The Sumerians, Babylonians, Egyptians, et et

If you could live anywhere in the world where would it be?

I love New York, and California as well, but there are great spots throughout the globe.  I suppose an apartment in Manhattan, a villa in Europe, and a condo in the Caribbean  would be alright.

How do you write – lap top, pen, paper, in bed, at a desk?

I write on a PC, but generally carry a pen and paper if an idea comes to mind.

How much sleep do you need to be your best?

Not much.  I sleep about 4-5 hours a day.

Is there anyone you’d like to acknowledge and thank for their support?

My parents.  I would have to write a story larger than all three of my books to document all they have done for me.

If you could have a dinner party and invite anyone dead or alive, who would you ask?

Dead there would be too many to list.  Alive, I’d settle for my friends family and girlfriend, but maybe some of my favorite bands could be on hand for the party.

"“A historical fiction comedy that packs
as much heart as humor.”
—Michael Dadich, award-winning author of The Silver Sphere

When a Harvard history professor receives a thesis paper titled Jesse James and the Secret Legend of Captain Coytus, from Ulysses Hercules Baxter—an underwhelming student—he assumes the paper must be a prank. He has never read such maniacal balderdash in his life. But after he calls a meeting with the student, Professor Gladstone is dismayed when Baxter declares the work is his own. As he takes a very unwilling Professor Gladstone back in time via his thesis, Baxter’s grade hangs in the balance as he attempts to prove his theory.

It is 1864 as philanderer and crusader Captain Coytus embarks on a mission to avenge his father’s death and infiltrates the Confederate Bushwacker posse looking for the man responsible, Jesse Woodson James. Accompanied by the woman of his dreams, Coytus soon finds himself temporarily appointed to be the sheriff of Booneville and commissions his less-than-loyal deputy to help him carry out his plan.

But when tragedy strikes, the Captain is forced to change his immature ways and redefine his lofty mission—more or less."

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Genre - Humor, Historical Fiction

Rating – R

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