Two Fatherlands (A Reschen Valley Novel Part 4) By Chrystyna Lucyk-Berger #BookReview #HistoricalFiction #WW2 @ckalyna @maryanneyarde

  

I am so excited to share my review of Two Fatherlands (A Reschen Valley Novel Part 4) by Chrystyna Lucyk-Berger. Thank you so much to The Coffee Pot Book Club for your invite to take part in this tour.

Two Fatherlands

A Reschen Valley Novel Part 4)

By Chrystyna Lucyk-Berger

It's a dangerous time to be a dissident...

 

1938. Northern Italy. Since saving Angelo Grimani's life 18 years earlier, Katharina is grappling with how their lives have since been entwined. Construction on the Reschen Lake reservoir begins and the Reschen Valley community is torn apart into two fronts - those who want to stay no matter what comes, and those who hold out hope that Hitler will bring Tyrol back into the fold.

 

Back in Bolzano, Angelo finds one fascist politician who may have the power to help Katharina and her community, but there is a group of corrupt players eager to have a piece of him. When they realise that Angelo and Katharina are joining forces, they turn to a strategy of conquering and dividing to weaken both the community and Angelo's efforts.

Meanwhile, the daughter Angelo shares with Katharina - Annamarie - has fled to Austria to pursue her acting career but the past she is running away from lands her directly into the arms of a new adversary: the Nazis. She goes as far as Berlin, and as far as Goebbels, to pursue her dreams, only to realise that Germany is darker than any place she's been before.

Angelo puts aside his prejudices and seeks alliances with old enemies; Katharina finds ingenious ways to preserve what is left of her community, and Annamarie wrests herself from the black forces of Nazism with plans to return home. But when Hitler and Mussolini present the Tyroleans with “The Option”, the residents are forced to choose between Italian and German nationhood with no guarantee that they will be able to stay in Tyrol at all!

 

Out of the ruins of war, will they be able to find their way back to one another and pick up the pieces?

I love a good series because it gives me more time to get to know the characters and the setting. Usually, though, I like to read them in order because that makes sense. Right?! However, when I was asked if I would like to read book 4 of this series, I thought, oh, well not. I settled into the story quickly enough, although there was a little adjustment period as I worked to figure out who everyone was and how they knew each other.

Technically, most of the characters are related in some way or another. Katharina is Annamarie's mother, and Angelo is her father, although Katharina and Angelo are not married. They both have their own spouses, and Katharina's husband raised Annamarie as his own, although Angelo wants a divorce, but that is proving challenging, and his son wants nothing to do with him—he is not having the best of times. But then,  Katharina isn't having the time of her life either, for Annamarie ran away from home, her eldest son is causing all sorts of trouble, and the construction of a reservoir near her home threatens to uproot her life. If this were set in modern times, they could have all ended up on one of those terrible trashy tv shows.

Annamarie's wants to become an actress. So, she ran away to follow her dreams. But the reality does not hold up to the imagination, and she finds herself barely scraping by. And then, she is offered a job at the Bund Deutscher Mädel. The BDM (The League of German Girls) could be her lucky break. The pay is good, but is she ready to become a signed up member of the Nazi party?

I will admit, when I am reading a book with multiple perspectives, there is generally one I prefer over the others, and there is sometimes a perspective I'm not too fond of. In this book, my absolute favourite one was Annamarie's, because I really loved her character. I was not a fan of Angelo's perspective, and this may have been because I didn't really understand it. There were too many characters that I didn't know, and I am not familiar with the particulars of this area of history. Although I studied the Second World War at school, my studies focused expressly on Germany and Russia, and I only covered the major events that I would need to pass the exam. This is likely why Angelo's chapters were not my favourite, but I will not hold that against the book, for there is always going to be someone who knows more than me who will thoroughly enjoy his chapters and will not understand what my issue is with them.

While I struggled a little with Angelo's chapters, I thrived with the others, and they utterly absorbed me. I would love to read the first books in the series so I can spend some more time with Annamarie and Katharina, and maybe even learn to like Angelo a little more!

I received a copy of this book from The Coffee Pot Book Club but you can grab yours can grab your copy at your favourite online bookstore - click HERE and it will give you the options of shops you can purchase this book at, just click on your favourite and it will take you right there. Magic!! 

Chrystyna Lucyk-Berger

 

Chrystyna Lucyk-Berger is an American author living in Austria. Her focus is on historical fiction. She has been a managing editor for a magazine publishing house, has worked as an editor, and has won several awards for her travel narrative, flash fiction and short stories. She lives with her husband in a “Grizzly Adams” hut in the Alps, just as she’d always dreamt she would when she was a child.

Social Media Links: Website • Facebook • Twitter • Instagram • LinkedIn • Goodreads • Amazon Author Page • BookBub

On tour with The Coffee Pot Book Club - The Custard Corpses by M J Porter #HistoricalFiction #HistoricalMystery #BlogTour @coloursofunison @maryanneyarde

 I am delighted to be taking part in another virtual blog tour with The Coffee Pot Book Club! And it is with eager anticipation that I introduce you to M J Porter and her fabulously titled novel The Custard Corpses.

The Custard Corpses

By M J Porter

A delicious 1940s mystery.

Birmingham, England, 1943.

While the whine of the air raid sirens might no longer be rousing him from bed every night, a two-decade-old unsolved murder case will ensure that Chief Inspector Mason of Erdington Police Station is about to suffer more sleepless nights.

Young Robert McFarlane’s body was found outside the local church hall on 30th September 1923. But, his cause of death was drowning, and he’d been missing for three days before his body was found. No one was ever arrested for the crime. No answers could ever be given to the grieving family. The unsolved case has haunted Mason ever since.

But, the chance discovery of another victim, with worrying parallels, sets Mason, and his constable, O’Rourke, on a journey that will take them back over twenty-five years, the chance to finally solve the case, while all around them the uncertainty of war continues, impossible to ignore.

“We’ve been informed of other murders; they might be similar to McFarlane’s. Certainly, I’ve been to Weston and examined the case file there. Now I’m getting information from two possible cases, one before ours and one after. Smythe has permitted me to look into it in detail.”

“Where were the other cases?”

“Inverness and Berwick upon Tweed.”

“Well, there’s no connection there.” Jones’ desire to dismiss the matter immediately surprised Sam. “Not with the other one taking place in the west, and ours here, in the centre of the country.” Jones pointed at the map on the wall as he spoke, but rather than dissuading Sam; it merely made him think that he was right to pursue the matter.

“Well, you asked what we were doing, and that’s what we’re doing,” Sam offered, hopefully, already turning his back on Jones. If the other man was so dismissive, he was going to be no help. None at all.

“I always knew you’d not forgotten about this. You and your precious Chief Inspector Fullerton, trying to right all the bloody wrongs in the world. What  a waste when you could be doing something useful.” The fury in Jones’ voice astounded Sam, but evidently not as much as O’Rourke, who looked about to launch a tirade against the sergeant.

“Well, Smythe has given his permission. So, it’s what we’re going to be doing. You can get back to doing something useful,’” Sam stated flatly. 

“Suit yourself. I’m fine with you wasting your time.”

When Jones had left the room, Sam closed the door and turned to O’Rourke, a wince on his face.

“Sorry. He asked, and I thought he probably needed to know. I didn’t think he’d get so angry about it.”

“You don’t need to apologise to me,” O’Rourke offered brightly, shaking her braids from side to side. “He’s never happy unless he’s right about something, and he’s not right about this. Now, where do you want to start?”

“You’re helping me, then?” he asked, pleased with her initiative.

“Yes, well, unless Smythe calls me away. I think you’ll need some help if that’s not too impertinent.”

“Not at all. I need someone with a young mind to keep me right. Now, to start with, I think we should mark the places on that map. It’s not a lot to go on, but I prefer to visualise such things. Are you alright to hop up beside it again?”

“Oh yes, not a problem. What shall we use?”

“Here,” and he passed a rectangular piece of card to her. “Actually, no, I’ll write some details on first. The date, the place, and the name of the victim.”

“Then maybe add one piece of information to three cards. That way, we’ll still be able to read it from down here.”

“Good idea,” he agreed and hastened to do just that, the pen lid in his mouth as he carefully wrote April 4th 1919, and then Inverness in his large and slightly lopsided handwriting. He printed the details, making it as easy as possible to read from a distance.

“Ah, I didn’t find out her name.”

“We’ll add that later,” O’Rourke stated. “Perhaps just put female for now. I think it’s relevant.”

“Right, here you go. I’ll do the ones for Berwick while you attach those.”

“Right-o.”

Doesn't this book sound amazing? If you want to purchase a copy you can find it on all the usual places. Click on the UNIVERSAL LINK and it will take you to your favourite bookstore where this novel is sold. 

M J Porter writes historical fiction set before 1066. Usually. This is M J's first foray into the historical mystery genre and the, relatively recent, twentieth century. 

M J writes A LOT, you've been warned.

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Website • Blog • Twitter • LinkedIn • Instagram • Pinterest • BookBub • Amazon Author Page • Goodreads • Tumblr

Book Review: Blood Relations: A New World by Glenn Stevens #BookReview #Vampires

For once, I did not judge a book by the cover, but I thought the blurb sounded fabulous and it was free, so I thought, why not? I am going to put on my best Count Dracula voice now (I know you can't hear me, you have to pretend) as I introduce Glenn Stevens rather intriguing novel:

Blood Relations: A New World

  

Eros finds warm-blooded creatures fascinating...especially the female ones.

Eros is a handsome, ageless, blood-sucking alien who finds refuge on modern-day Earth. Despite coming from an advanced civilization thousands of years ahead of Earth, he falls in love with the charm, compassion, and creativity of humanity. But after outliving his friends and lovers, Eros becomes incensed to find a way to help others live longer—especially after meeting the beautiful and powerful Camellia. And when he hears of the sacred and elusive Fountain of Youth, Eros believes he may be able to keep his love alive for good.

But with Eros's need for female blood and Camellia's mortality and protective mother fighting against their union, will Camellia and Eros find a way to be together today, tomorrow, and forever? This epic love story will have readers' hearts skipping beats and filling with warmth and positivity. Despite its incredible paranormal twists, this love story feels as real and raw as it gets.

I am sure I have said before that I have a very long to-read list. Honestly, I should probably stop saying that I will review books until I catch up with my reading, but we all know that is never going to happen. So when I was browsing through books, on Instagram, I saw this one was free to download on my eReader. (Unfortunately, it is no longer free. Sorry. And you can't find me on Instagram as I have a private account - don't be nosy) I have way too many books on it already and it is incredibly slow (probably because of the number of books) but whenever I see a book is free, I can’t help but download it. And, obviously, new books go to the top of the to-read list.

When I started reading this book, I wasn’t entirely sure what I was getting myself into. It seems like just your typical vampire romance, but if that is what you are expecting, you are in for a surprise. Phew, are there some steamy scenes.

Eros is what I can only call a space vampire. He wasn’t bitten, as far as I can tell, so he is simply just an alien who so happens to fit the vampire bill. Surprise, surprise, he can only drink blood from women, something to do with their blood, I wasn’t really sure, and his venom causes these women to have a rise in Oxytocin, which is apparently the love hormone. So the women are bitten, then experience all kinds of pleasure. An incentive, of course, to be bitten again. Really, Eros’ species are wonderfully evolved.

Eros’ venom also has healing properties. If you’ve ever seen the Vampire Diaries, kind of like that. But instead of having to drink vampire blood, it is his venom or saliva that causes the healing. Still, it’s kind of gross if you think about it too much, but very useful. Especially when you mass produce it and sell it as a way of making money to run a blood donation resort. Although I know how the resort is run, I still want to visit it. People visit for free, donate blood, and can have all kinds of wonderful meals and experiences for free – everything is paid for through the blood donations, which are made better by Eros’ venom and then sold to hospitals and such. The only problem is that when I have any amount of blood taken, I generally nearly faint, so maybe I wouldn’t have such a great time.

As usual, I read in my spare time, in small time periods when my child is off doing something alone, or my husband is occupying the gremlin. This book is rather long, so it did take me a while to read it. However, this is the one and only book that I have ever got my husband interested in, and I’m not sure he was that invested in the story, to be honest, but rather was enjoying laughing at me laughing at the book. I was reading it in the living room, and he was working at the computer, with our small child playing with toys on the floor. I snorted with laughter and he looked over, a habit from me finding things amusing and then immediately reading them out to him. So he had turned around to listen, the darling. I refused to read it out loud with our child in the room, which intrigued him and I told him I’d show him in the evening when our child was in bed. Bedtime came around and we sat down together.

If you live in the UK, you might know what I mean when I say M&S advert voice. If not, check out this video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5lwMQYxm23U

Note the sexy, breathy voices, making the products seem sexy and therefore appetising? We love the M&S adverts in the UK, they are just fabulous, and Aldi has really had fun taking the p*** out of them of late but that has nothing to do with this review. Anyway, my husband sat down next to me and I started reading out loud, in this kind of voice. At least, that is what I was going for. Sometimes I couldn’t help but laugh and the voice would waver at these times. 

This is what I mean by my husband getting interested in the book – it was not so much the story, but me reading it out and laughing at it. Then again, we did spend the next few evenings in exactly the same way, and he started quoting some of the lines at me, whispered in my ear as he walked past, making me double over in laughter at times.

This is probably not the experience I should’ve had, reading such a book, but it made it so much better. I do not usually read what I can only call erotica, and I never would for the purpose of enjoying reading about sex in that way, but since I take everything with a couple of handfuls and a pinch of sarcasm, it was an incredibly amusing experience. I must admit, I never thought the genre of book that would get my husband to read would be erotica, but life is full of surprises.

I am going to give this book 5 golden stars because I have not been so entertained in ages!!

I found my copy on Amazon UK, and I just saw that it is on audio - I wish the voice actor had been the M&S one - that would have made my year!!

On tour with The Coffee Pot Book Club, Thunder on the Moor by Andrea Matthews #BookReview #timetravelromance #CoffeePotBookClub @AMatthewsAuthor @maryanneyarde

It is one virtual tour after another - but the books are so good, and today's novel is no exception. Before you head over to read my review, you have to check out the blurb for Thunder on the Moor by Andrea Matthews. 

Thank you, once again, to The Coffee Pot Book Club for introducing me to another fabulous author.

Thunder on the Moor

By Andrea Matthews

Maggie Armstrong grew up with tales of blood feuds and border raids, so when her father takes her back four hundred and fifty years to his Scottish home, she is enchanted. Enchanted, that is, until her uncle announces his intentions to betroth her to Ian Rutherford, the son of a neighboring laird. Maggie’s twentieth century sensibilities are outraged, but refusal to agree could ignite a blood feud. Maggie’s worlds are colliding. Betrayal, treachery, and a tragic murder have her questioning whether she should remain or try to make her way back to her own time. To make matters worse, tensions escalate when she stumbles across handsome Englishman, Will Foster. But could he be the hero she’s always dreaded of or will his need for revenge against Ian shatter more than her heart?

If you are an avid reader of my reviews, you might be starting to sense a pattern in that I tend to go into books blind. Don’t get me wrong, I always determine whether or not I am likely to enjoy a book before I agree to review it, but my to-read pile is an ever-growing list, which is written in a messy scrawl on a piece of lined paper, which I am constantly losing. By the time I get to a book, I have long since forgotten the premise of the story and often get a little confused. So you can understand why I had to look up the blurb again when an Englishman in 1513 says the phrase ‘who do I blasted think I am, James Bond?’ 

I have always found time travel an incredibly romantic notion, especially when the main character meets someone in a time unbeknown to them and falls in love. This book is no different, except it adds in the drama of funding families and the character not knowing who her heart truly belongs to, which only adds to the excitement and joy I felt when reading.

Robert had been dragged into the twentieth century as proof that time travel works, but with no feasible way to return him, Eddie can do nothing but help him in this new world. However, skip forward twenty five years, Eddie has figured it out and Robert has the chance to return home, to his family. The only problem is that now he has a daughter, and he’s not about to force her to travel back in time to the sixteenth century. 

Luckily, she comes somewhat willingly, and the adventure begins! 

The background that is written in this story, of the beautiful moors and fells, is simply gorgeous to read about and imagine, and this is only the canvas on which the story has been created! Maggie has to adjust to a new way of life, where, as a female, she does not get to join in with the raids, but has to sit back and hope that those she loves returns. She adjusts remarkably well, for although her adjustment is wonderfully believable, there is no way I could deal without a nice cup of tea and a lie in every so often.

I am definitely a sucker for an accent, and the dialogue in this book is written in dialect (gasp!) so you can practically hear the accent in your head as you read. I am particularly partial to Irish and Scottish accents (although don’t tell my husband that, he possesses the most posh, English accent I’ve ever come across) so this was definitely a bonus when reading. Also, I learnt a wonderful new phrase ‘wagging a wand in the water’, which means a waste of time, as the glossary at the back tells me. Shortly after learning this, and clapping my hands in glee at the new phrase, my washing machine beeped and my husband walked into the kitchen to make a cup of tea to find me sorting the washing and muttering ‘I’m wagging a wand in the water, the laundry in this house is never ending’ under my breath. He frowned a little, didn’t bother asking what I was talking about, and proceeded to offer to make me a drink, but not putting enough water in the kettle to fill more than half a cup. Men are so useless sometimes.

Out of this whole book, of which I enjoyed immensely, there was one detail that bugged me. One of the characters goes through a very hard time, in that they get shot with an arrow through the shoulder, nearly pass out from the pain, then proceed to wield a bow and sword in battle not half an hour later, with no apparent difficulty. Later, they are drowned to the point of needing resuscitation, obviously struggle with a foggy head and can’t stay upright without feeling sick, and then a little later are fine to make love in the woods. This all happened within a day and I can’t help but think that maybe they wouldn’t have been able to pull a bow back, or make love after drowning, but you never know. Men are extraordinary creatures, you never know quite what they’ll do next! (Seriously though, who doesn’t fill up a kettle before boiling it?!)

This is a rather long review, but when I get excited about a book, I tend to ramble about it and my husband clearly did not care whether or not Maggie ended up with the slimy man or the dreamboat, so it is you who gets to hear about it instead! I implore you to grab yourself a copy of this book, because it is an absolute delight!

I received a copy of this book from The Coffee Pot Book Club, but you can pick up yours on Amazon UK, Amazon US, Amazon CA, Amazon AU. You can also find the paperback edition over on good old Barnes & Noble!

Andrea Matthews

Andrea Matthews is the pseudonym for Inez Foster, a historian and librarian who loves to read and write and search around for her roots, genealogical speaking. In fact, it was while doing some genealogical research that she stumbled across the history of the Border reivers. The idea for her first novel came to mind almost at once, gradually growing into the Thunder on the Moor series. And the rest, as they say, is history…

Social Media Links: Website • Twitter • Facebook • Instagram • BookBub • Amazon Author Page • Goodreads

Chateau Laux by David Loux : #HistoricalFiction #ChateauLaux #BlogTour @ChateauLaux @maryanneyarde

 You have to check out this excerpt from Chateau Laux by David Loux. Thank you so much to The Coffee Pot Book Club for your invite to take part in this tour.

Chateau Laux

By David Loux

A young entrepreneur from a youthful Philadelphia, chances upon a French aristocrat and his family living on the edge of the frontier. Born to an unwed mother and raised by a disapproving and judgmental grandfather, he is drawn to the close-knit family. As part of his courtship of one of the patriarch’s daughters, he builds a château for her, setting in motion a sequence of events he could not have anticipated.

Then, the pounding of horse’s hooves caught his attention.  He could see them below, through the bare trunks of winter hardwoods, two dark horses making long strides, a man hunched over each, urging it onward.  The one man had something across the saddle in front of him, something thick and heavy, like a rolled carpet or a large duffel.  The men kicked their heels and the horses lengthened their strides and Jean’s interest flared.  It was no way to ride a horse, he thought, not across an open field covered with snow, with rocks and holes and broken tree branches possibly hidden from view.  The men drove their horses like desperados.  They fled from the direction of the river stone farmhouse, crossed a meadow, and angled up through the trees, and Jean saw that what had appeared to be a duffel was the rump of a human being, the hem of a dress jerking and flapping, a white, shoeless foot bouncing with the horse’s strides.

Something seemed wildly irregular.  Why would a man be carrying someone across the front of a saddle, someone with bare legs and no shoe in callous disregard of the bitter cold?  Something needed to be done, but what?  If the men were making a getaway, what were they getting away from?  Where were they headed and who was to stop them?

The men headed toward a narrow pass in the ridge above, and Jean knew that beyond this point lay the wildlands, where the farmers hunted and sometimes found Indian sign.  Heeling his horse, Jean felt the power of the beast as it surged forward, not recklessly but with purpose.  By heading straight up through the trees, he was able to get to the pass before them, and he quickly dismounted, hiding his horse in a clump of hemlocks and positioning himself at a rock outcropping.

The woods seemed to mushroom with silence around him.  From below came the sound of a hoof against rock, the crack of a branch, the grunt of a laboring horse.  Jean could no longer see the men but knew they would lurch into sight soon, and his thoughts flew and fluttered like trapped birds banging against a windowpane.  His musket lay on a rock before him, but he had never so much as pointed it at another person before.  When he thought about joining the marines, he had been thinking of adventure and glory, and not the other thing, at the meanest level, the pulling of a trigger against a fellow human being.

Suddenly he was out of options.  The men appeared, the head of one and then the shoulders, the head of the other.  The man at the rear used his reins to lash his horse and it bent its head and muscled forward, climbing toward the pass.  Jean lay down against a rock and sighted along the barrel of his musket.  He cocked his flint back and his hand shook so hard he was afraid the gun would discharge before he could aim it.  And still he didn’t know what to do.  Surely, the men were up to no good. He had heard the stories of women and children who had been kidnapped to be traded as slaves or far worse, but what was he to do about it?  What would his father do if he were here right now and had to act?

His finger touched the trigger and the gun kicked back into his shoulder.  A fog of smoke belched out in front of him and one of the horses reared.  It was the second horse, the one carrying the girl, and a man shouted, cursed.  The lead horse bolted left and took off back down through the woods, angling away, the rider whipping it with the tail ends of the reins.  The other horse bucked again, and the rider clung to the saddle, then flung the girl from her position across his lap.  She hit the ground and flopped to her side, where she lay without moving, and the rider threw his weight forward, righting the horse and kicking it in the flanks.  The horse bolted toward the pass and the man rode hard and out of sight in a matter of seconds.

The girl lay in the snow and Jean reloaded his musket, shivering with both cold and the violent shakes of adrenaline, the ramrod missing the borehole of the gun again and again before he was able to drive down the new charge.  The magnitude of what he had just done rolled in on him and he crouched behind a rock and gasped for breath, paralyzed with fright, waiting for the men to come back.  He watched and waited until his fear gradually subsided.  The girl had not moved and he thought his bullet may have struck her and that she was dead.

Resolutely, he forced himself to approach her, and he squared his shoulders, preparing for the worst.  Her eyes were closed.  Her forehead and cheeks were blue, and he placed his hand to her mouth, where he felt a faint breath.  Leaning his gun against a tree, he crouched down and picked her up, carrying her to the clump of hemlocks where his horse waited.  The girl’s eyes opened and she stared up at him, expressionless.

“Are you all right?” he said.

She didn’t respond but stared at him vacantly.

“We gotta get out of here,” he said.  “Those men could come back.  If they knew it was only me, then we’d both be in trouble.  If I put you on the horse, can you hold on?”

Slowly, she roused.  One of her hands tightened against his arm, and he sat her on the horse and held her steady in the saddle.

“Who were they?” he asked, his heart hammering.  He wanted desperately to hear that the men were indeed the outlaws he had assumed them to be, and that firing his weapon had been the right course of action.

She didn’t say anything but reached out and grasped the horse’s mane.

“You’re freezing,” Jean said, shifting his focus to what mattered most in the moment.

Taking off his coat, he draped it across her shoulders.  He wrapped his muffler around her bare foot, tying the ends of the scarf together.  The cold bit into him hard and he started to move.  Holding the horse by the bridle, he led it down to where his musket leaned against the tree.  Briefly, he scanned the woods for any sign of the men before continuing his descent.

“I heard a sound,” the girl said, dully.  

Jean stopped the horse and waited to make sure she was all right.

“Cold . . .” she said.

He steadied her and then led the horse a few more steps, looking back over his shoulder, pausing, leading the horse on and then pausing again.  The girl swayed.  Hunching in the saddle, she held on to the horse’s mane and pressed with her knees, and Jean led the animal on the easiest downhill slope he could find.

They finally emerged from the woods onto the white expanse of meadow.  Twilight already purpled the air and, cold as it was, the temperature dropped even more.  Jean didn’t know if the girl came from the river stone farmhouse, but that was the nearest shelter and they both would die of the cold if trapped outside overnight.  As they approached the house, the door flew open and a woman charged out, waving a broom above her head as if it were a weapon.  But when she saw their faces, she threw the broom aside and ran toward them, arms outstretched, fingers wide.  Grabbing hold of the girl, she pulled and Jean helped the girl get down from the horse.  The woman clutched her and sobbed.

“My baby, my baby!” 

The girl had trouble standing, and Jean picked her up and carried her into the house.  The woman wouldn’t let go of the girl, and he had to drag them both along.  Inside, the heat from the fireplace enveloped them.  There was a wooden table and chairs, a bearskin rug.  Cooking pots hung from the mantle.

Jean carried the girl into a second room, where he found two beds.  He placed her on the first one.  She still wore his coat.  The woman yanked at a comforter, pulling it up over the girl, and the girl closed her eyes and started to cry.

“There, there,” the woman said, kissing the girl’s eyes and forehead.  

The girl clutched at the woman’s shoulders, her breasts.

“You’re all right now.  It’s all right.  You’re home.  We’re safe.”

Jean backed out of the bedroom.  His knees gave way and he sank down into a kitchen chair.  His hands and feet were still numb from the cold, and the heat of the fireplace made them ache.  But he was safe, and it began to dawn on him that something extraordinary had happened.  He, Jean, had saved the life of another human being, and long forgotten was the unfortunate visit to the Souder farm and any second-guessing he might have had about a military career.  At the same time, however, he felt more and more aware that anything could have gone wrong.  He could have been too far away to attempt a rescue.  The shot fired could have hit a horse, leaving Jean to scuffle with the rider on the ground.  Or the shot could have killed the girl, as he had earlier feared.  Had the kidnappers realized he was alone, they could have circled back around.  In retrospect, he and the girl were both lucky to be alive.

You can purchase your copy over on Amazon UK, Amazon US, Amazon CA, Amazon AU, Barnes and Noble & Kobo

David Loux is a short story writer who has published under pseudonym and served as past board member of California Poets in the Schools. Chateau Laux is his first novel. He lives in the Eastern Sierra with his wife, Lynn.

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On tour with The Coffee Pot Book Club, The Year We Lived by Virginia Crow #HistoricalFiction #BookReview #CoffeePotBookClub @DaysDyingGlory @CrowvusLit @maryanneyarde

 I am once again on tour with The Coffee Pot Book Club and today I am welcoming historical fiction author, Virginia Crow, onto the blog!

Are you ready for today's book recommendation? Of course you are. I will shut up and let the book speak for itself - you can then scroll down and read my review.

The Year We Lived

By Virginia Crow

It is 1074, 8 years after the fateful Battle of Hastings. Lord Henry De Bois is determined to find the secret community of Robert, an Anglo-Saxon thane. Despite his fervour, all his attempts are met with failure.

When he captures Robert’s young sister, Edith, events are set in motion, affecting everyone involved. Edith is forced into a terrible world of cruelty and deceit, but finds friendship there too.

Will Robert ever learn why Henry hates him so much? Will Edith’s new-found friendships be enough to save her from De Bois? And who is the mysterious stranger in the reedbed who can disappear at will?

A gripping historical fiction with an astonishing twist!

Oh, my goodness. I don’t usually start reviews by talking about the end of the book, but wow. I didn’t see that coming. My husband thinks I am incredibly silly, but I will get to that later. Let me get to the actual review section before I go on about the ending!

Robert is an Anglo-Saxon thane, a master at hunting, at blending in with the forest. Henry De Bois has been hunting him, trying to find the village that he has hidden so masterfully, for some unfathomable reason. Robert doesn’t know why De Bois is so desperate to kill him, but he does know that De Bois is dangerous, and keeping his village safe is his top priority. 

Enter Edith. Robert’s younger sister. She is carefree, wild, but kind and full of love. She always wants to help, no matter what the cost. The yule log is burning low, and she heads out to collect some reeds to slow down the burning. In the reed bed, she meets a young man and, and being the kind of person she is, she wants to befriend him, help him, make sure he is safe and warm inside. However, when the knowledge comes out that he is a changeling, prejudices come into play and he is clearly not welcome anywhere near the village. 

With Robert out of reach, and Edith so willing to leave the safety of the village to visit Dunstan, her friend by the reeds, De Bois jumps into action. If he cannot find Robert, he could draw him out. Edith’s disappearance leads to horrors untold, for she suffers abuse from De Bois, and it trapped with no chance for escape. Robert blames Dunstan for her disappearance, not knowing the truth and being unable to find Dunstan to question him. What follows is a year-long journey, of Edith’s attempts to stay safe in a precarious situation where she is surrounded by hate, and Robert, and Dunstan’s efforts to find the girl they both care so much about.

Now, serious part over, I need to explain something. There is a massive plot twist at the end of this book. I mean, MASSIVE. The kind of plot twist that has been hinted at throughout the entire book and then is revealed at the end, making you go ‘ohhhhh’. When I reached this point, I was sat on the sofa, while my husband and child were playing on the floor. My husband looked up at me, because I had slapped a hand across my forehead and closed my computer, which I was reading the book on. When he asked what was wrong, I just went ‘I understand now’ and, although he didn’t ask for it, I launched into a massive rant about what the book was about and why this twist was so clever. I went into detail, realising different hints that I hadn’t realised had significance. This is why he said I was silly, because apparently he would have picked up on it ages ago. As if he would make it through the first page, I have never seen him sit down and read a book in the whole time I have known him.

What followed was me randomly realising another point and, maybe a little too loudly, exclaiming my realisation. I walked around the house, picking up the toys that my child had scattered, mumbling every so often ‘Red William, I understand now’ and then laughing at how marvellous the book was and how utterly stupid I was. My husband has not yet stopped making fun of me, he finds it incredibly amusing whenever I get so into a book that I go on and on about it.

If you weren’t convinced by the serious portion of this review, I hope you were convinced by my reaction. Get this book. Read it, all the way to the end, and see if your reaction is any different. If you are cleverer than me, then it very well might be!

I really cannot stress how great this book is. I was given a copy by The Coffee Pot Book Club but you can grab yours from Amazon UK • Amazon US • Amazon CA • Amazon AU • Barnes and Noble • Waterstones • Kobo • Smashwords • Crowvus

Virginia grew up in Orkney, using the breath-taking scenery to fuel her imagination and the writing fire within her. Her favourite genres to write are fantasy and historical fiction, sometimes mixing the two together such as her newly-published book "Caledon". She enjoys swashbuckling stories such as the Three Musketeers by Alexandre Dumas and is still waiting for a screen adaption that lives up to the book!

When she's not writing, Virginia is usually to be found teaching music, and obtained her MLitt in "History of the Highlands and Islands" last year. She believes wholeheartedly in the power of music, especially as a tool of inspiration. She also helps out with the John O'Groats Book Festival which is celebrating its 3rd year this April.

She now lives in the far flung corner of Scotland, soaking in inspiration from the rugged cliffs and miles of sandy beaches. She loves cheese, music and films, but hates mushrooms.

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