Tuesday, October 26, 2021

On tour with The Coffee Pot Book Club - Read an #excerpt from At Her Fingertips (The Chronicles of Alice and Ivy, Book 3) by Kellyn Roth @kellyntheauthor @maryanneyarde

It is with the greatest of pleasure that I introduce you to author, Kellyn Roth.

 



At Her Fingertips 

(The Chronicles of Alice and Ivy, Book 3)

By Kellyn Roth


She’s willing to do anything to follow her plan.


Debutante Alice Knight is ready for her first social season in London. She’s determined to impress society and her mother with an affluent match, at last escaping her past and embracing a future of her own making.


Peter Strauss, an American reporter visiting England, isn’t exactly what Alice had in mind. However, his friendship proves invaluable as Alice faces the challenges of her debut. Almost immediately, she attracts the attention of a well-born gentleman—perfect save for the simple fact that he’s not a Christian.


The life she longs for is finally at her fingertips, but between her own heart and the convictions of her faith, she isn’t sure she ought to grasp it.


At Her Fingertips, a romantic women's fiction novel, is the third novel in Kellyn Roth's Christian family saga, The Chronicles of Alice and Ivy.



Miss Knight was sitting by herself after dinner, staring into the fire with her eyes absent. Normally, Peter left people who seemed consumed by their own thoughts alone—that was what he preferred. But something told him she wasn’t the type to enjoy her own ponderings.

 

She continued to puzzle him. Strong and weak. Over and over again, those words echoed in his head. Miss Ivy was a delicate flower that would continue to bloom if crushed; he didn’t sense that in Miss Knight. She was more like a mighty pine that, once felled, would lie there until it crumbled into splinters. He didn’t know how she would handle collapse, or if she would at all.

 

Was it his business? No. Normally he would’ve made his observations within his own mind and kept silent. However, something about her compelled him to take a seat near her and make the necessary pleasantries.

 

After conversation faded again, he asked her if they could visit the library with Miss Ivy. “I haven’t had a chance, and Miss Ivy has told me about it often. Of course I wouldn’t go with her alone.”

 

“Of course.” There was grudging respect in her eyes. Did she think it was so different in America that he wouldn’t take care of Miss Ivy’s reputation? He honestly wasn’t sure why Miss Knight was so suspicious of him.

 

Had America stolen her father? Was that her reasoning? Or was she just too traditional to conceive of a friendship with him? He supposed it wasn’t exactly normal, but he made friends with anyone he could, and that usually included women. Not in an improper way—most women just seemed to, for no discernable reason, confide in him.

 

It was simultaneously frustrating and touching.

 

The three of them went to the library together, and Miss Ivy rambled on about their collection, who had added books over the years, and so on. Peter found it interesting but couldn’t help but be concerned about Miss Knight, and he began searching for a conversation topic that would suit all three of them.

 

It was when he gave up, however, that he succeeded. “Do either of your parents read?” he asked, deciding to focus his efforts on Miss Ivy, who actually wanted to talk to him. Reading, he felt, they could talk about.

 

Miss Ivy answered that her mother would read occasionally, and Miss Knight’s eyes focused on them both, interested for the first time.

 

Thank God, he thought.

 

“Mother reads what Nettie does,” Miss Knight said. “But then she’s not had time until lately to read.”

 

“Oh?” Peter supposed the lady had had a child almost every year, but she only had somewhere in the range of three to five children—he’d gotten confused at this point as to which were hers by birth and which by marriage. Ned certainly was the child of the late Mrs. Hazel Bailey Knight, but otherwise he didn’t know.

 

“Yes, because—” Then Miss Ivy stopped and looked to Miss Knight.

 

There was a moment in which the sisters stared each other down, clearly unsure who was going to communicate what. Then Miss Knight cleared her throat.

 

“Mr. Strauss, I know you asked one of our footmen for details about our family, and he declined to give you the full story.” Her dark eyes focused on him, intense to the point of anger. “If I were to tell you my family history, I don’t know what your reaction would be. Ivy promises me you are a fair, compassionate man, but I don’t know you, and you are a reporter.”

 

Peter winced. “I am at that. But I’m not the type of reporter who would ever discuss private details publicly, either in writing or with my mouth.” He struggled for the correct words. “I always take my cues from Proverbs. ‘Whoso keepeth his mouth and his tongue keepeth his soul from troubles.’”

 

“I see.” Miss Knight glanced at Miss Ivy.

 

She nodded.

 

“I’ll tell you a bit of what’s happened, so that there need be no awkwardness to us.” She gestured to a few chairs across the library. “It’s a simple story, really.”

 

Miss Ivy raised her eyebrows. “It is not.”

 

“Nevertheless, let’s sit down and go over it. Quickly.”

 

Curiosity spiked, but determined to remain compassionate, Peter took a seat and fixed his eyes on Miss Knight’s face.

 


If this book sounds like your cup of tea then head over to AmazonThis book is available to read on #KindleUnlimited.


Kellyn Roth


Kellyn Roth is a Christian historical women’s fiction & romance author from North-Eastern Oregon who has independently published multiple novels, the most notable being The Chronicles of Alice and Ivy series. You should definitely call her Kell.


Kell lives on family-owned property outside an unmemorable but historical town with her parents, two little brothers, precious border collies, a dozen cows, and lots of chickens. She also possesses a classic, vintage aesthetic which does not at all speak to her country girl side, but such is life.


When not writing, Kell likes to blog, work as a virtual assistant for authors and other small business owners, and spend lavish amounts of money on Dairy Queen french fries. She also likes to talk about her books (and occasionally Keira Knightley) way too much. You’ve been warned.

Social Media Links:

Website, Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, Pinterest, BookBub, Amazon Author Page, Goodreads


Tour Schedule 














Monday, October 18, 2021

Book Review - Rocked by Grace (Love and Chaos Series Book 1) by M.J. Schiller #ContemporaryRomance @mjschiller




Rocked by Grace
(Love and Chaos Series Book 1)
By M.J. Schiller


Zane Sanders, lead singer of Just Short of Chaos, surprised everyone, including himself, when he plucked a fan out of the audience at one of his concerts.

I don’t know what possessed me to do it. I’d never done anything like that before. But something about Grace drew me to her. And within minutes of pulling her on stage, I knew I’d made one of the best decisions of my life. Since our drummer Devin’s overdose, I’d felt dead inside. Perhaps for even longer than that. But Grace was fun, sexy—and as I would discover later—good and selfless. And an irresistible magic surrounded us that made me feel alive again. 

That is, until I blew it. In classic Zane style. Funny thing is, when I first got Grace up on stage, I had no idea what to do with her. Now I have no idea what I’ll do without her.

Grace Prescott was living out every girl’s fantasy.

Only thing is, fantasies ended, and I realized pretty quickly that I didn’t want this one to stop. Zane had a magnetism about him that was more than mere charisma. That was evident the moment I—the girl who normally had to be dragged out onto the dance floor—practically became a pole dancer in his arms. Then it happened. The moment everyone kept referring to as “The Kiss.” But it was all part of the show, right? It didn’t matter that Zane made more than my feet move. He stirred up feelings that scared the crap out of me. The depth of his sadness called out to me even more than his unbelievable sex appeal, and that was saying something.

But it could never work between us. He may have come from a small town like me, but he was all rock star now and totally out of my league. I was a flower shop owner, not his saving Grace.

Are some actions beyond forgiveness or will he be rocked by Grace?


Sex, drugs and rock & roll — Zane Sanders, the ultimate rock god, seemingly has it all together. But he only lets his fans see what he wants them to see, that was until he pulled Grace Prescott onto the stage. One look in her eyes and his world turned on its axis.

Somebody get me a fan! Zane Sanders is hot, hot, hot! He is also unbearably cute and has gone through considerable trauma in his life. The fast-paced rock-star life he lives is glamorous but it is also tough. His love affairs are brief and unimportant, and he suffers from terrible nerves before he goes on stage. Once he is on stage, however, he feels like he is at home. When he meets Grace, something clicks in his heart, and he realises what, or should I say who, he had been missing his entire life. Once Grace is in Zane’s line of vision he is determined to make her his, but there is more to this fun-loving woman he had pulled up on the stage. I thought Zane was a really lovely protagonist. He is angry, moody, but also loving and protective. Sometimes he can’t keep up with his runaway mouth, so I did not warm to him straight away, and he also does stalk Grace for 24 hours and I wasn't too sure if I was suppose to admire him for that? But as this novel progresses, Zane becomes this really likeable man, and he does everything in his power to look after Grace and her little brother. Although he gets Grace into a whole heap of trouble, but you will have to read the book to find out what happens!!

Grace was a character that I instantly adored. She is the kind of woman you want as your best friend. Her tragic past, and her devotion to her brother, who has special needs, only made her all the more appealing. When she is pulled upon the stage, Grace allows herself to be swept away by the moment but when she falls back down to reality she realises that it was just a moment in time. Through Grace, we are shown the vulnerabilities of what it means to be a woman. There are several nasty encounters with men, and her abusive ex-boyfriend is incredibly threatening. Then there is Zane. Grace cannot deny the sexual attraction between them, but she cannot envisage a world where the two of them would be together—his lifestyle is vastly different to hers. I thought Grace came across as very believable and as I have already said, I really adored her. 

The story itself is incredibly fast-paced, so fast-paced that I read it one sitting — I was not going to put this book-baby down!! The trials and tribulations that the two of them have to go through make this an enthralling read. There are moments in the novel where I found myself asking, what the hell just happened? But I think the drama only made it more compelling. There are some triggers in this novel, such as domestic abuse and sexual assault, which some readers may find very upsetting, but like all romances, there is a happy-ever-after.

I really enjoyed reading Rocked by Grace (Love and Chaos Series Book 1). I was utterly enchanted from beginning to end.

I received a copy of this book from the author (lucky me!), but you can grab your copy over on Amazon

M.J. Schiller

Bestselling author M.J. Schiller is a retired lunch lady/romance-romantic suspense writer. She enjoys writing novels whose characters include rock stars, desert princes, teachers, futuristic Knights, construction workers, cops, and a wide variety of others. In her mind everybody has a romance. She is the mother of a twenty-two-year-old and three twenty-year-olds. That's right, triplets! So having recently taught four children to drive, she likes to escape from life on occasion by pretending to be a rock star at karaoke. However…you won’t be seeing her name on any record labels soon.


Wednesday, October 13, 2021

On tour with The Coffee Pot Book Club – Empire’s Heir (Empire’s Legacy, Book VI) by Marian L Thorpe #HistoricalFantasy #BlogTour #CoffeePotBookClub @marianlthorpe @maryanneyaryde

 

am so excited to share with you an excerpt from Empires Heir (Empires Legacy, Book VI) by Marian L ThorpeThank you to The Coffee Pot Book Club for your invite to take part in the tour. 


Empires Heir

(Empires Legacy, Book VI)

By Marian L Thorpe


Some games are played for mortal stakes.

Gwenna, heir to Ésparias, is summoned by the Empress of Casil to compete for the hand of her son. Offered power and influence far beyond what her own small land can give her, Gwenna’s strategy seems clear – except she loves someone else.

Nineteen years earlier, the Empress outplayed Cillian in diplomacy and intrigue. Alone, his only living daughter has little chance to counter the Empress's experience and skill. Aging and torn by grief and worry, Cillian insists on accompanying Gwenna to Casil.

Risking a charge of treason, faced with a choice he does not want to make, Cillian must convince Gwenna her future is more important than his – while Gwenna plans her moves to keep her father safe. Both are playing a dangerous game. Which one will concede – or sacrifice?


© 2021 Marian L Thorpe

In this passage, Cillian, one of the two narrators of Empire’s Heir, and his friend and lover Sorley are alone together for the first time since the death of Cillian’s youngest daughter, whom they both loved deeply.


Fatigue purpled Sorley’s eyes. I held out a hand. “Come here.” He came, slowly, to sit beside me. “The baths?” I touched his hair, spiky and unkempt. He leant his head into my hand. When I kissed his temple, he said my name, helplessly. 

“There is no one here,” I said. “And I have done nothing to raise suspicion, not in a house of mourning.” But I moved my hand from his head, years of caution precluding my wish to offer—and find—comfort. He reached out and took it, entwining his fingers with mine on the tabletop. I ran a thumb across his palm. I could find no physical desire, but what lay between us was far more than our rare nights together. A love which, in my many sleepless hours, when only the cat and long-dead philosophers kept me company, I had admitted I did not fully understand. 

I heard Gwenna come back into the hall. “Mhairi might follow her,” I said softly, and let my fingers slide from Sorley’s. 

“Druisius has gone to train the torpari boys, and your mother will be riding for some hours. Would you tell Apulo I—we—would welcome the baths?” I asked my daughter. 

“Of course,” she said. “Sorley? Can I use the table in your teaching room to write notes this morning?”

He nodded. “Go ahead.” 

We soaked for a long time, Apulo keeping the fire burning under the boiler, and the water hot. He’d helped me into the pool, as always, and then left us. We did not speak for some time, letting the heat do its work, relaxing the tight muscles of my back and leg. After a while I began to massage Sorley’s neck with one hand: not with any skill, but the touch was as much for me as him. He sighed and slid closer. “Lena?” 

“She is angry now,” I said. 

“We’re all angry.” Fresh bruises—bite marks—reddened his shoulders. We’d never spoken of them; we never would. Silence and secrets, for so many reasons. He leaned his head back. I stopped rubbing his neck, but I did not withdraw my arm. “I could offer sword practice.” I caught the faintest trace of a forced amusement behind the fatigue and sorrow. Sorley’s voice was a tool when he wanted it to be.

“Wear armour.” He smiled, both of us remembering a day on a riverbank far away in both time and distance now, Lena directing rage and sorrow into sword strokes. He’d barely been able to defend himself. 

“Cillian?” The amusement was gone. “What are you doing with your anger? And don’t tell me it’s not there.”

“I am waiting for it to pass.” As Catilius taught. 

“Is that enough?”

“It has to be,” I said. “What else can I do? I will write a poem for her, one day, and you can put it to music, but I cannot wield a sword, or throw a knife.” Or express, in any physical way, the hollow ache inside me that frequently flashed into sharp pain. “But, yes, just now I resent my limitations.” 

“Do you want time alone when we are finished soaking?”

I had lain or sat awake in the dark for many hours in the last week, alert to Lena’s restlessness and tears. To have no demands on me; to be undisturbed . . .  

“No,” I said. “Not yet. Time with you first.” 



If that excerpt has tickled your fancy then you can grab your copy over on Amazon. And get this, Empire's Heir is free to read if you have #KindleUnlimited subscription!


Marian L Thorpe


Essays, poetry, short stories, peer-reviewed scientific papers, curriculum documents, technical guides, grant applications, press releases – if it has words, it’s likely Marian L Thorpe has writ-ten it, somewhere along the line. But nothing has given her more satisfaction than her novels. Combining her love of landscape and history, set in a world reminiscent of Europe after the de-cline of Rome, her books arise from a lifetime of reading and walking and wondering ‘what if?’ Pre-pandemic, Marian divided her time between Canada and the UK, and hopes she may again, but until then, she resides in a small, very bookish, city in Canada, with her husband Brian and Pye-Cat.

Social Media Links:

Website, Twitter, Facebook, Amazon Author Page, Goodreads


Tour Schedule







Sunday, October 10, 2021

On tour with The Coffee Pot Book Club – In a Grove of Maples (Sheltering Trees: Book 1) by Jenny Knipfer #HistoricalFiction #ChristianHistoricalFiction #BlogTour @JennyKnipfer @maryanneyarde

 

 I have an excerpt for you today, from Jenny Knipfer's book, In a Grove of Maples (Sheltering Trees: Book 1).


In a Grove of Maples 

(Sheltering Trees: Book 1)

By Jenny Knipfer 

Audio Narrated By Jenn Lee


"... 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 AND 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.



Myrtle Berger placed a loaf of bread and a tin of cookies on the table. “There we are.”

 

Beryl lifted her head and briefly let her eyes rest on her loving neighbor. “Thanks.”

 

She appreciated Myrtle’s kindness, but all she wanted was to be alone with her grief. She recognized sympathy in Myrtle’s eyes but also something else more solid than empathy. 

 

“I know how it is when one is grieving. Household tasks can be overwhelming.” Myrtle pointed to Edward’s armchair. “May I?” 

 

“Of course.” Beryl nodded and dropped her gaze to her chest, where her pale hands tightly clutched the ends of her tattered shawl. 

 

“I have a full home now, but it wasn’t always so.” Myrtle paused and took a deep breath. “I lost two babes before Timothy, Titus, Rebecca, and Phoebe came along.” 

 

Her statement hung in the quiet of the cabin. The crackle of the fireplace was the only sound besides the gentle creak of Beryl’s rocker and a random whimper from sleeping Buster. 

 

So, it was experience I saw in her eyes. 

 

“Did you?” Beryl almost whispered. 

 

She turned to look at Myrtle, who extended her hand. Beryl unclenched her hands and let one rest in Myrtle’s. 

 

“I did. I know what it’s like to lose a child.” Myrtle squeezed Beryl’s hand fiercely for a few seconds before letting go. She explained, her voice tinged with sadness. “One died in the womb. The other a month after birth. We never found out why. We named them David and Paul.” She tilted her head to the side. “Did you name your little one?” 

 

“Yes. Lyle.” 

 

It felt good saying his name to another person. When people are remembered, they don’t truly pass away. A portion of them remains. 

 

The thought gave comfort to Beryl.


“A lovely name for a boy.”


“How . . . how did you cope?” Beryl sighed and uttered a 

 

quiet groan. “How did you keep on . . . living?”


Myrtle shook her head. “I wish I could give you a magic solution, but there is none. You get better with time and the good Lord’s help. One thing I did learn: let yourself grieve.” Myrtle brushed at her brown, wool skirt, smoothing out the fabric over her knees. “With the first, David, I tried to be brave and didn’t talk about him. Didn’t let myself cry, but that was a mistake. I ended up hurting worse and for a longer time. After Paul died, I allowed myself to grieve. To remember him. To cry.” “Did you blame anyone? Did you blame yourself?” Beryl didn’t care if her question was tactless. She had to know if she had done something wrong.

 

“Oh, honey.” Myrtle turned to Beryl. “You are not to blame.” 

 

“But what if I am? What if I did something wrong? What if all this hard work I’ve done somehow weakened him?” Beryl’s voice rose in frustration. Her fingers balled into fists. 

 

Myrtle rose from her chair, extended a hand to Beryl, and pulled her up. She wrapped soft arms around Beryl, who couldn’t hold back any longer. Sobs shook her shoulders as Myrtle hugged her and rubbed slow circles on her back. 

 

Finally, Beryl stepped back, shocked at her lack of decorum. “I’m so sorry . . . I didn’t mean . . .” 

 

“Now, think nothing of it. We all need a shoulder to cry on once in a while.” Myrtle grasped Beryl’s arms firmly. “Just know that it will get better.” 

 

 If that  excerpt has wet your appetite then head over to Amazon. You can also find this novel on #KindleUnlimited - so what are you waiting for?!


Jenny Knipfer


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:

WebsiteTwitter FacebookInstagram • PinterestBookBubAmazon Author PageGoodreads


Tour Schedule

(part of the tour, part of the ship)!

You can follow this fabulous tour HERE!











Wednesday, October 6, 2021

On tour with The Coffee Pot Book Club – Redemption (The Hacker Chronicles, Book 2) by Philip Yorke #HistoricalFiction #EnglishCivilWar #BlogTour @yorkeauthor @maryanneyarde

 


Redemption

(The Hacker Chronicles, Book 2)

By Philip Yorke


Saturday, the second day of July, in the year of our Lord, 1644, will be a day long remembered by the men and women committed to ending the reign of a tyrannical King. For on this day, the forces of Charles the First were crushed on the bloody fields of Marston Moor.


The calamitous defeat forces the increasingly desperate Royalists to intensify their attempts to bring about the immediate demise of their Parliamentarian enemies. This includes devising an audacious plan to assassinate the man they believe is key to the war’s outcome.


With the plotters ready to strike, Francis Hacker, one of Parliament’s most loyal soldiers, becomes aware of the conspiracy. With little time to act, he does everything in his power to frustrate their plans. But, alas, things start to unravel when brave Hacker finds himself pitted against a ruthless and cunning mercenary, a man who will resort to anything to achieve a ‘kill’.  




The sky is clear and dark as I rise early on the morning of the twenty-fifth day of February and go on a brisk walk around the grounds of the old priory, marvelling at the wonders of Creation.


It is over a week since I returned to my men and military life. Since I resumed command of the Kirby Bellars garrison, I have been pleased with the speed in which I have readjusted to living the solitary life of a soldier. Knowing Rowland is alive and the threat of execution has been lifted is a huge source of comfort.


When I return to my chambers, I barely have time to take my coat off before there is a sharp rap on the door. Such is the impatience of my visitor; I don't have time to respond before the door opens and Needham strides in. His face carries the appearance of a man weighed down by fatigue, worry and fear.


“Captain, forgive me for this untimely intrusion, but we have just received new orders from Colonel Rossiter,” he says as he enters. “It seems the enemy is on the move and heading in our direction.”


I look at the young Cornet, my irritation at his curt and official manner quickly replaced with curiosity and a significant degree of alarm. I extend my right hand, gesturing for Needham to surrender Rossiter’s dispatch.


“Quick, man,” I bark, as Needham hesitates, unnerved by my agitation and directness. “Let me see it for myself.”


When I have read the hastily written note, I can see why Needham correctly thought it important I was made aware of the facts as soon as possible. For it seems Sir Marmaduke Langdale, one of the King's most celebrated commanders, has departed Oxford and is now making his way northward via Market Harborough and Melton Mowbray. With him is the Northern Horse, a force comprising almost three thousand fighting men.


Langdale has been ordered by the King to relieve Pontefract Castle in his home county of Yorkshire. Rossiter’s assessment is that after leaving Charles two days ago, the enemy could be in Leicestershire in less than twenty-four hours. 


Reacting quickly and effectively to the challenge posed by this large force is clearly of the essence as Parliament may only have one opportunity to stop the Royalists before they reach their destination and attempt to relieve Pontefract’s besieged garrison.  


“The Colonel makes it sound as though he is keen to engage with Langdale,” adds Needham, referring directly to Rossiter’s command to muster the men and prepare for action. “But do we really have enough time to assemble a credible force to halt them and gain a valuable and morale-boosting victory?”


It is a good question, and I inform Needham so. I also tell the young man I think it highly unlikely we will be able to call on the services of more than a thousand Parliamentarians from the combined Leicester, Melton, Grantham, Stamford and Derby militias, so any force we are able to put in the field against the Royalists is likely to be heavily outnumbered.


“You do the calculation, my friend,” I say seriously. “I am all for fighting when the odds are more equal, but it may prove a folly in the extreme to seek combat with a much larger group of capable and dangerous men.”


With nothing more to discuss and my mood becoming sombre, I dismiss Needham, who clearly has a lot to contemplate as he prepares for his first taste of serious action. Before he leaves my company, I ask him: “Tell me, young friend, do you believe in the power of prayer?”


Confused by the bluntness of my question, the young man struggles to reply. So I try again: “It is simple enough, Needham,” I say. “Either you do, or you don’t. So what is it to be?”


Seeking to avoid direct eye contact, Needham replies awkwardly: “I certainly do, sir, although I find it hard to find the time to pray as regularly as I would like. Why do you ask?”


Shaking my head, I laugh aloud as I respond.


“That’s very good, Needham. I am delighted to hear it,” I say, my sarcasm all too evident. Looking directly at the young officer, I add: “I suspect we will all be in need of our God come tomorrow evening. May I suggest that before you take to your bed tonight, you make haste to the chapel and get down on your bended knees, for the more men like us call on our Maker to intercede, the more likely some of us will be allowed to live through the madness of the next forty-eight hours.” 


Once Needham has left me, I sit down and devour the content of Rossiter’s hastily written order. 


I tried to make light of my concerns in front of Needham, failing miserably in the process, for with just cause, I have reservations about the wisdom of the Colonel's intentions. 


I move closer to the window and candles, so Rossiter’s words are more legible. As the flickering light illuminates the vellum, I make out the following words:


“My dear Captain Hacker.


“I have today received news that will raise the spirits of any Parliamentarian who is keen to bring about an early resolution to this terrible war.


"It is our good fortune to be able to deal the King's forces a crushing blow in the coming hours. You and I have waited many long months to avenge that dark day in November 1643, when Melton's garrison was surprised by Gervase Lucas, an event that led to our unfortunate imprisonment. But God is good, and the morrow, we will have an opportunity to seek our long-awaited revenge.


"Sir Marmaduke Langdale and the Northern Horse are riding towards us as I write. I intend to challenge them on favourable ground after they have departed Market Harborough, thereby bringing about their demise.


"I have sent word to Colonel Gell in Derby, summoning him to a general muster at Belton. I ask you to bring your Company of Horse to the same rendezvous. Be there by ten o'clock in the morning. When all are assembled, we will seek to confront the enemy and end their plans to relieve Pontefract Castle.


“May God be with you and your men.”


Such has been Rossiter’s haste in writing out his communiqué the Colonel has forgotten to put his signature to his words. Should I wish to, I have the right to ignore the command, claiming its provenance to be, at best, uncertain. However, I clearly recognise the author’s hand and know it to be genuine. Rossiter is also a friend, and I will not turn my back on him, regardless of the foolhardiness of the edict.


You can find your copy of this book over on Amazon, and get this, it is FREE to read if you have #KindleUnlimited subscription.


Philip Yorke


Philip Yorke is an award-winning former Fleet Street journalist who has a special interest in history. His Hacker Chronicles series, to be told in five fast-paced historical fiction novels, tells the story of Parliamentarian soldier, Francis Hacker.


Redemption, the second book in the series, is set during the period 1644-46 (during the first English Civil War), when events take a significant turn in favour of Parliament.


Philip is married, and he and his wife have five children. He enjoys relaxing to classical music, reading the works of Nigel Tranter, Bernard Cornwell, Robyn Young and CJ Sansom, and supporting Hull City FC and Leicester Tigers RFC. 


He lives in Leicestershire, England.


Social Media Links:

Website, Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, BookBub, Amazon Author Page, Goodreads


Tour Schedule





On tour with The Coffee Pot Book Club - Read an #excerpt from At Her Fingertips (The Chronicles of Alice and Ivy, Book 3) by Kellyn Roth @kellyntheauthor @maryanneyarde

It is with the greatest of pleasure that I introduce you to author,  Kellyn Roth.   At Her Fingertips  (The Chronicles of Alice and Ivy, Boo...