Angel's Flight/Excerpt for Friday Free bits

 

 

 

 http://amzn.com/B0098CSH5Q

 

 

 

 

 

 

Captured by the cruel redcoat officer who has been pursuing her, Angelica

considers her options. Believing that Jack, her new husband, has just been murdered, her family threatened with death, she resolves to agree to Major Armistead's demands.  

 

 

...As she sat there, drained, a strange feeling fluttered deep in her belly. She’d felt it for the first time only a few days ago. The sensation was as if a butterfly had been released, wings tapping the walls of some secret cave.

I must talk to Harriet, or Mary McGregor. One or the other, they can tell me. In spite of what has happened to my dear mate, the egg may already be in the nest. And, if that is so, what I suspect, then I must survive. Survive any way I can!

Cruel fate has once again destroyed the man I love, but this time, perhaps, something of him, of his love, remains. A miraculous someone I can hug, and kiss.

Fumbling in the pocket, she withdrew her thimble and thread; she pulled a length of cotton through the needle. It will be stronger now, she promised herself.

What God has joined together—

Slowly, Angelica pulled the ragged edges of the tear together. She knew what her answer to George Armistead would be. She would save her family. If she had lost Jack, she would not shame his memory with cowardice.

“Chains do not hold a marriage together.” Angelica spoke aloud to the empty room, imagining Jack was there with her. She pulled cotton through the edges, neatly mending the rent. "It’s the threads-- hundreds of tiny threads--which sew people together through the years..."

~~Juliet Waldron
See all my historical novels at:

http://www.julietwaldron.com

Buy the Book:

 http://amzn.com/B0098CSH5Q

MY MOZART

 

 

 

It was said of the enigmatic Mozart that "...'tis unfortunately all too well known that fast living in ill-chosen company shortened his precious days."  My Mozart is the story of Nanina Gottlieb, who begins her narrative as a musiker brat.                                                                                                       

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

"Mozart, Ich liebe dich. I love you. Love you."

"Come here, Nanina Nightingale. Come and give your poor old Maestro some of your ‘specially sugary sugar."

My mouth on his‑‑the friction produced warmth and sweetness, with a decided undertone of the expensive brandy he liked, flowing from his tongue to mine. I slid my arms across the brocade of his jacket, none too clean these days, and swayed a slender dancer's body against him.

Let me assure you that my sophistication was assumed. It really doesn't matter - then, or now. I was young, foolish, and drowning in love. I was seventeen. He was thirty five.

He had once been boyishly agile, doing handsprings over chairs, turning cartwheels of joy at a prima donna’s kiss or a perfect performance of his own celestial music. He was never tall, and was, like most men of his age, working on a bit of a belly. Still, he kept more or less in shape by a daily regimen which included running from bailiffs, dashing out the back doors of taverns to avoid payment, and climbing in and out of the bedroom windows of adventurous (and talented) musical gentlewomen.

I believed he knew everything--that he could see right through me with those bright blue eyes. He probably could. He'd been my music master--and, more--my deity, ever since I'd met him, in my ninth year.

His jacket, now spotted and stained, must have been fine enough to wear in the presence of the Emperor. Bright blue, it perfectly matched his eyes. I can still feel the fabric sliding under my fingers as my arms passed over his shoulders and around his neck.

I can still see him‑‑a woolly frizz of blonde hair, long, aquiline nose--a ram that had once been an angel. Sometimes, when he was loving me in some exquisitely naughty way and joyfully smiling as he did it, I could almost see horns…

 

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Buy My Mozart  at: 

My Mozart by Juliet Waldron from Books We Love

http://amzn.com/B0089F5X3C

 Learn more Juliet’s NOVELS at:  http://www.julietwaldron.com

Reviews:

 This really knocked my socks off, and so you don't have to know the opera or Mozart's music to love this book. ” Kay Cochran

“The brilliance of the plot is that it is timeless ... The characters are as real as today, once again underscoring the fact that people, after all, never change in motives or behavior ... only in time.”  Patricia A. Martin

MOZART'S WIFE, an excerpt

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

MOZART'S WIFE is a Kindle Countdown deal, today through May 14th

 

 

…When Mozart presented himself at our door, my little sister, Sophie and I would scamper to open it. We knew, you see, that Aloysia would make him wait. It was a torment she routinely inflicted on all her admirers.

Sophie and I didn’t care how long she took. While Mozart waited for his goddess, we had him all to ourselves. He was always obliging; a delightful playmate who showed us cat’s cradles we’d never seen. He was also a dangerous and incredibly dexterous opponent in games of jacks.

As soon as Aloysia appeared, however, the fun was over. By the time the little man straightened from bowing to the coquette posing in the doorway, lover’s anxiety had entirely extinguished his natural sparkle.

I couldn’t endure being around them then, even though their music was beautiful. I hated the slave who now gazed from Wolfgang’s blue eyes. I hated the gushing Italian compliments he paid. I knew my sister. The more he doted, the more she would despise.

Poor Wolfgang! His tics, and he had a fair number, intensified in the presence of his idol mio. His nervous fingers were the worst, often going completely out of control, either drumming on the tabletop or tying his watch chain into hopeless knots.

Within a few weeks Aloysia could mimic him perfectly—his busy hands, his submissive bow, his florid Italian. Spiteful Jo was her most appreciative audience. Heaven knows, Mama and Papa, who had begun to dream about a match with the wunderkind from Salzburg, would not have been amused.

“I think you’re both horrible,” I said, wanting to defend him, but this only sent Jo and Aloysia onto the sofa where they rolled about giggling in a most unladylike fashion...

 

 

~~Juliet Waldron

 

 

http://www.mozartswife.com

 

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

 

https://www.facebook.com/jwhistfic

 

 

 

 

 

HAND-ME-DOWN BRIDE~~ Now at a special price at Amazon!

 

 

 

 

 

 

~~~~

 

Sophie's traveled all the way from Germany to marry a wealthy older man. She's scared and alone, but her sisters and mother are depending upon her...

 

 

~~~~

 

 

 

 

 

Now on Special, only $.99 at Amazon!

 

http://amzn.com/B004G80YHFG

 

 

 

...To Sophie, Karl was polite, but little more.  He hardly spoke more than a sentence or two to her during the meals that she and Divine worked so hard to make.

Dull, grim Americans! Sophie watched them eat, the line of elbows rowed up on the table. Here they have plenty to eat and they do it like pigs swilling at a trough, not a word to say.

"Could you please pass them biscuits, Wida' Wildbach?" asked one of the hands, breaking in on her reverie.

Sophie passed the wicker basket.  Karl kept his eyes on his plate, although at least he did not use his knife like a trowel as the others did. 

Once upon a time, someone taught him manners... 

"Nothin' like Mrs. D's biscuits." Karl said.

"Mrs. D, nothin'." Divine had been waiting for just such an opening.  "Why, Miz Sophie made these, while I was cuttin' de slaw."

The shoveling ceased and a line of faces, all ruminating like cattle, solemnly regarded Sophie. 

"Well, they sure fooled me." Karl became a bit redder in the face than he already was.  Yesterday he'd been out all day, up to a place called Big Spring, to look at the wheat. 

"Yes, sir.  This year I may get early to preservin', now that I kin hand off them darned beaten biscuits to someone else."

Dishes of potatoes, green beans and bacon were annihilated.  More was called for and scooped out of seemingly bottomless pots on the stove...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 ~~~Juliet Waldron

 

See All my historical novels @

 

 

 

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

 

and

 

http://www.julietwaldron.com

 

 

 

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

 

 http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B004HIX4GS

 

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.

 

http://www.amazon.com/Victoria-Chatham/e/B007OMJOTA

 

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/

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

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

                                                                                #frifreebits

http://mizging.blogspot.com

 

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

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!

http://mizging.blogspot.com