Wednesday, April 23, 2014

Historical Writers' Blog Tour/About me

This invitation to blog comes from historical writer and archeologist, Louise Turner @
http://www.louiseturner.co.uk/










Juliet Waldron has lived in many US states, in the UK and the West Indies. She earned a B. A. in English, but has worked at jobs ranging from artist’s model to brokerage. Thirty years ago, after her sons left home, she dropped out of 9-5 and began to write, hoping to create a genuine time travel experience for her readers. She’s a grandmother, a cat person, and a dedicated student of history and archeology.

  

1. What am I working on?

Black Magic, a fantasy/historical with a were-creature. This is a sequel to Red Magic, which is set in the Austrian alps.  By the time I finish, I fear the fad for shape shifters will be “so over”! The other “in-the-drawer” is set in ancient Egypt, and will require an enormous amount of research. As soon as I can clear the decks…

 

2. How does my work differ from others of its genre?

I feel that I’m a bit more “bloody minded” than many other women who write in the historical genre. I work hard to create characters that speak and behave as if they genuinely are alive in the period. For instance, 18th Century men were, for the most part, what we’d today call sexist.

 

3. Why do I write what I do?

I’ve always had a sense I was living in the wrong era. From earliest childhood I’ve been fascinated by the past. Certain historical characters have taken over my imagination to such an extent that I’ve devoted—in some cases—years to researching them.

 


4. How does my writing process work?

The character comes first for me, although I prefer to drape my fiction around actual historical personages or events. One of my first novels, My Mozart, was something of a channeling experience, a far easier route than my normal method, which involves “playing with the dolls” until they begin to walk and talk on their own.

 Find more about my historical (emphasis upon "historical") novels at:
 
http://www.julietwaldron.com

 


 
And from here--go forward to find out all about talented authors, Victoria Chatham and Diane Bator:
 

Victoria Chatham’s very first attempts at writing, in crayon on a wall, were not appreciated but she progressed to writing proper words in pencil in scrappy exercise books. Teen years, marriage, motherhood, moving and work took precedence over her writing. Prompted by her late husband to enter a short story writing competition, she took up the challenge and never looked back. Now happily retired, writing is her full time occupation.

 


 

https://www.facebook.com/AuthorVictoriaChatham



Diane Bator is an avid hiker, Reiki Master, and martial artist, who loves to make a mess in the kitchen and put in the garden. Joining a writing group was the catalyst for coming out of the creative closet and writing her first murder mystery series, Wild Blue Mysteries. She lives in Southern Ontario with her husband, three kids, and a cat who thinks he's a Husky.


Amazon profile:

http://www.amazon.com/Diane-Bator/e/B009CGCPRE/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_2?qid=1397943095&sr=8-2

The Bookstore Lady:  

 http://www.amazon.com/Bookstore-Lady-Diane-Bator-ebook/dp/B00DWKNGPQ/ref=la_B009CGCPRE_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1397943102&sr=1-1

The Mystery Lady: 
http://www.amazon.com/Mystery-Lady-Wild-Blue-Mysteries-ebook/dp/B00J456WK4/ref=la_B009CGCPRE_1_4?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1397943102&sr=1-4

 

Where to find me: 

Website: http://penspaintsandpaper.com

Blog: http://dbator.blogspot.ca/


Friday, April 18, 2014

RED MAGIC

#frifreebits
 
 
 
 
 
 
~RED MAGIC~ 
 
 
 
 
…Ignored now, Caterina stood, water streaming off her.  She was red headed and tall.  Her eyes, green as bottle glass, blazed with fury.  What would have been fair skin if she'd been a more conventionally house-bound female was lightly tanned and dusted with tiny golden freckles.  Her budding womanliness was shown off to advantage by a man's riding habit, jacket, shirt and knee breeches, all of it plastered to her willowy frame.

              Christoph, who had been admiring her, decided to remind her of his presence.  Seizing one of her long legs, he tumbled her down again.

              "By God," he cried, strong arms locking around her, "Come here, Coz.  I'd like to teach you to kiss as well as you ride."

              Howls of laughter erupted from the onlookers as Christoph wrestled Caterina close.  The whole time he kept whispering that one little kiss wouldn't hurt, that "Your sister won't mind.”                          
 
             Arms locked against his formidable chest, resisting with all her might, Caterina thought that Christoph was just doing what he always did-seeing how far he could get!     

              As they tussled, witty encouragement was shouted from the bridge.

              "Give the skinny tomboy a lesson."

              "Just what our Hell Cat needs."

              "Yes!"  Max laughed.  "Kisses, a wedding and babies.  Then I won't have to worry that she's going to show up on that winged steed of hers and lose me my wagers."

              "Swine!" Somehow Cat was managing to keep his lips away.  "Especially you, Christoph von Hagen.  Let me go!"

            "As you wish, Fraulein von Velsen."  Just as suddenly as he'd started, he released her.  Still, there was that unbearable smile, those bright eyes flashing amusement…





                     http://amzn.com/B00774BXDA

 
See all my historical novels @ http://www.julietwaldron.com

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Friday Freebits!
                                                                                #frifreebits
 



                            Journey with Caterina to the Cave of the Red Horse...






Friday, April 11, 2014

HAND-ME-DOWN BRIDE

#frifreebits
 
 


 
                                      http://amzn.com/B00G8OYHFG
 

Sophie studied her toes.  She sat on the double bed in which she'd spent the night, knees drawn up beneath her white lawn nightgown. Lifting her dark head, she gazed through a nearby window at a May morning that shone upon a blooming--but sternly regimented--rose garden.  In spite of the warm breeze, she shivered.

Then, hoping it wasn't true, for the hundredth time, she looked at the other narrow bed, the one next to hers.  Upon it lay her new husband, the rich grandfatherly man who'd paid her way from Germany, a man she'd married only yesterday.

Theodore Wildbach was quite dead.  Proper, in death as in life, he was flat on his back, hands folded on his chest. He looked like the stone knights lying in the cathedral in her home town.  That was how Theodore habitually slept, and how he'd died. Pale lips gaped inside a ring of neatly trimmed salt-and-pepper beard.

She'd discovered him upon awakening. She’d come close, staring, unable to believe her eyes. It was a terrible surprise, nowhere among the thousand twists of fate she'd imagined as she'd journeyed across sea and land to German Mills, Pennsylvania...



 
~Juliet Waldron
See All My Historical Novels at:

http://www.bookswelove.net/julietwaldron.php


http://www.julietwaldron.com


Set in Post-Civil-War Pennsylvania, this tale of an arranged marriage is as much about family as it is about finding true love. Sophie is a sensitive young woman struggling to make sense of her a difficult past and to understand the strange ways of her new homeland. Karl is not only a veteran of the Great War, but scarred by the secret violence of his childhood. How they both learn to trust--this often-tested immigrant girl and the veteran with a chip on his shoulder--is the subject of this tender, All-American story.

Follow the link to other Books We Love Author Friday Freebits!

 

Tuesday, April 1, 2014

Friday Freebits ~ GENESEE

#frifreebits





"Genesee van Cortlandt," her cousin giggled. "Good Lord! What are you doing? You'll break your neck."

     The prettily rounded figure of a young Dutch woman with rosy cheeks and an enviable head of tumbling honey brown curls leaned out an open window. Close by the substantial two-storey brick house a huge tree grew, an apple tree with spreading limbs, a tree her father had been so fond of that he had put his workmen to the trouble of enduring its presence while they built the house.

     The speaker was in fashionable undress – a shift and stays covered by a crewel-stitched morning gown that had, in quieter times, come from London. Behind her a couple of well-dressed and well fed Black girls crowded, peering out the window and adding their exclamations to hers.

     "Look at Miss Jenny," one of them cried. "Just like a cat!"

     On a broad limb of the tree, a limb which had been rudely cropped in order to keep it from intersecting with the wall of the house, her long straight black hair held with a scarlet ribbon, without a cap and dressed only in a fine white muslin shift, was a slender, supple girl. For a heartbeat, she steadied herself and then proceeded on small brown bare feet along the mottled limb.

     Genesee didn't acknowledge the others. All her attention was focused on balancing. There would be a whipping descent through a lattice of branches to a bone-snapping conclusion if something went wrong.      Jenny knew what she was doing was foolhardy. Still, it was always fun to play the wild frontier woman and shock her elegant Cousin 'Nelia.

~~ From the Epic Best Historical Novel, GENESEE

http://amzn.com/B004BSH1R2


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