Time For a Change

 Even though I've been embroiled in the Revolutionary War the past couple of years with my writing and my Revolutionary Women series, I try to avoid writing about America's current political situation here on this blog. However, I just read something which compared the events of the past week with the Revolutionary War, and I must comment. 

The most basic difference is probably the easiest to understand. The Americans in the 1770s were waging war against a despot who was demanding money and resources be taken from America while imposing a tax on goods and merchandise needed for the colonists' survival. The followers of Mr. Trump are waging war for a despot who is demanding their loyalty until they are no longer needed, and who is lining his pockets with money from the government and from his loyal followers on his way out the door. 

I have a great deal of admiration for our founding fathers. I have no admiration for the loyalists who attacked our Capitol building and killed people. Our founding fathers had a vision for this new country while the mob last week had nothing other than vengeance on their agenda. 

I lived in DC for years after college. I sat on the Capitol steps each year to watch the fireworks on July 4th. To see them filled with a mob of misfits who have no love for our country turned my stomach, as it did many others. The woman who lost her life in the battle told reporters she'd willingly give her life for the cause. I have no pity for her, only for her family. As for the Capitol Hill policeman who was killed, I'm sure death was not on his mind Wednesday morning. His killers need to be held to account. They were not involved in a Revolution, they were involved in a riot. 

I agree with them on one thing, though. It's time for a change. I want normalcy in my life again. Not people with painted faces, Confederate flags, and crazed looks on their faces. I want to take off my face mask, hug my friends again, and be able to see my family. I want to be able to depend on my retirement income lasting for my retirement years. I want to sleep through the night. Am I asking too much? I hope not, for our country's sake. 

The Revolution Comes to an End

 In January, the final book in my Revolutionary Women series will be released and the series will come to an end. A British Governess in America has been proofed, a cover produced, and it's nearly ready for its debut. We had to change the gown my governess wears on the cover, but it was essential she look like a working governess and not Cinderella at the ball. Took some doing to get it right, and my thanks go out to Prairie Rose for their willingness to work with me on it. Here's the cover; 

With all the turmoil of the latest election in America, it's given me great pleasure to be visiting our founding fathers in the midst of this chaos, and to see that their vision had a solid foundation but may need some tweaking. Just as we changed the amount of time needed to install a new head of government when the advent of a speedier form of getting the word out to the country was developed (remember the telegraph?), so should we now be taking a hard look at our way of handling elections. I loved rubbing imaginary shoulders with the Sons of Liberty and experiencing life in our earliest times. They had no way of knowing the type of America we would have now, but they gave us a solid foundation. All we have to do now is keep it.

But the series, as will all good things, must come to an end, and it's time to carve out another era to live in for the next little while. What that will be is still up in the air, but it'll be fun, regardless. 

I heard someone say the other day that 2020 will be used as a measurement for a bad time for years to come. Someone can say they had a bad day or week, and the other will say Was it a 2020 kind of day or week, or just the usual? Regardless of how you spin it, we're all glad to kick the year to the curb and move into 2021. Happy New Year, and happy new beginnings.

Election Season

 Unless you've been living under a rock (which many of us here in the States wish we could do), you already know the significance of what's about to happen in America next Tuesday. We are all exercising our civic duty and voting for president and down-ballot races. As an author of American historical fiction, I am especially invested in this process that our forefathers fought so hard for. So, on the very first day of early in-person voting, I stood in line for over two hours. Here I am, at the back of the pack, waiting to get in the door of the building to the far left of the picture: 

I chose to vote in person, even in the face of a pandemic, because I live in a swing state, and mail-in ballots are going to be contested. And, even though I have faith in our electoral process, I didn't want my vote to be questioned in any way. I wanted my vote to be one of the first counted, as did a lot of other people, as you can readily see. And judging from the early turnout, both mail-in and in-person early voting in every state in this country, a lot of other people also want their voices heard. I can't help but think Sam Adams and the other Sons of Liberty, would be proud of us.  

Sam Adams

So, as we collectively hold our breaths and await the outcome, we can do so knowing we've made our voices heard. It may take weeks for the final outcome to be verified, and I hope that whichever way the outcome happens, we can be peaceful and civil about things and show the world our founding fathers had a great idea and it's been worth all the blood, sweat, and tears. If you haven't already done so, get out and vote on Tuesday. Pack your snacks and a bottle of water, take a book (may I recommend of my Revolutionary Women books to inspire you?) and wait your turn, regardless of how long it takes. Your country is counting on you. 

Have You Ever Been Jealous of Your Book Heroines?

Jealousy is a human emotion that we've all experienced in some form or fashion during our lives. It can happen in love, in job promotions, in athletics. It's frequently used in novels to advance the plot, or to show the bad from the good. 

This question is for the readers and authors out there. Have you ever immersed yourself so completely in a story line that you became jealous of the life of the hero or heroine? Has their life been so ideal, so exciting, so filled with love, that you wish you could change places with your character? 

I'm having those feelings today. I recently finished the last book in my Revolutionary Women trilogy. The founding of America was an exciting time, and the Sons of Liberty were the original bad boys. A friend of mine said if they were around today, they'd be gun-toting tattooed men dressed in black leather and riding big motorcycles. I have to admit, the image made my heart flutter. All the women in my stories have become immersed in the Revolution and their men were each a member of the Sons of Liberty, and it's made me jealous. 

Maybe it's because of the times we're all living in. Or maybe it's because my year-long immersion in the Revolutionary War era has made me acutely aware of our nation's government and struggles. I have become more politically active this cycle than ever before. I've written letters to my local newspaper, to my congressmen and senators, I've attended rallies and participated in a political protest. I stood in line for two hours on the first day of early voting to assure that my voice would be heard. I am a member of the Lincoln Project. I encouraged people who have never voted that they needed to register this time around. But did I do enough? Would Sam Adams and Benjamin Edes look kindly on my deeds, or would they still paint a big "T" on my door to signify I am a member of the opposition?

Maybe I need to write another Revolutionary War book. 

On To The Next Thing

 Two things happened this past week that have affected my daily routine. For the better, I hope. 

First, I finished the last book in my Revolutionary War trilogy and sent it off to my publisher. So I won't be hanging around with the Sons of Liberty every morning now and raising hell. Kind of sad, since the  Sons of Liberty appeal to my rebellious nature.

Second, the company I've been freelancing with for the past year or so has been affected by COVID and has cancelled some of their not-so-profitable lines. Unfortunately, my articles are part of that not-so-profitable part of their service, so once we writers work through what's left, that's it. I'd been expecting this to happen, since the articles I'm writing are advertising for various services, none of which are being utilized during a pandemic. Still, when the word finally came down, I had to take a deep breath and try to figure out what to do next. The articles were not hard to write, but they were time-consuming, even though they did provide a nice income stream.

So, what have I come up with?

Well, first, I have a big story idea, and knowing it's a big idea, I figure it'll take a year or more to write. So, I'll work on that while I promote my Rev War series. Maybe I can even use some of my research on the Sons of Liberty in part of the new venture. We'll see. 

Second, I'm still ghostwriting a series for my new friend from the UK. I don't know how much more he'll want from me, though, so I don't want to put all my eggs in one basket. I need to find another income stream. 

I've got a couple places to look for work this week, butI'm open to any ideas. 

Will keep you informed...

A British Heiress in America Cover Debut!

I don't know about you, but one of my pet peeves when it comes to covers is when the hero and heroine on the cover in no way resemble the hero and heroine in the book. And any author out there who fills out a cover art info sheet for a publisher or who is responsible for putting together their own cover, knows how hard it is to get the image you've been living with in your head for months or years to translate onto the cover.

For the cover of the first book in my new Revolutionary War series, I am lucky enough to work with a publisher who allows me to have a say in what pictures I want to consider. I have spent hours on the various images for sale sites, culling through thousands of pictures to find just the right one. I found a picture that I really liked, but the heroine is a blonde. She plays well against the dark and brooding hero, but my heroine had dark hair. I asked the cover artist to change the hair color. The only problem was the hair style on the lady was so complex and there were so many wisps going in every direction that it became impossible to change. So we decided to do the obvious and change her hair color in the book from dark to light. A simple Find and Replace did the trick and voila! My heroine is now a blonde. The book will be released on June 25. Here's the cover, for your viewing pleasure:

And, here's an excerpt:

Off the Coast of England, 1775

The minute the ship began to move out of the docks, Pippa’s courage faltered, as if it took a swan dive over the railing and began dog paddling toward the pilings. The shores of her home country faded in the distance, along with her ability to change her course. She desperately wanted a cheroot but couldn’t light up and give herself away even if she had one. Instead, she curled up between the water barrels and closed her eyes, hoping her stomach would settle if she didn’t witness the rocking of the ship. She let the up and down motion lull her into a stupor.

“Blimey! What ‘ave we here?” One of the crew of the Gladys Maria jostled a barrel away, exposing Pippa’s hiding place. She fell backward, hitting her head on the deck, the sun blinding her. She winced, at both the crack to her head, and at the harsh sunlight. One hand shielded her eyes, the other cradled the back of her head, leaving her body exposed.

A swift kick in Pippa’s ribs made her yelp in pain. She curled into a ball, but meaty hands grabbed at her and forced her to her feet. She doubled over and grabbed her midsection, retching.

“Well, iffen it ain’t a little stowaway.” The deckhand laughed as he grabbed the back of Pippa’s shirt and tugged her upright. “Cap’n will not be pleased to see the likes of you.”

Pippa swallowed her bile and struggled as the man grabbed her trousers as well as the nape of her shirt and half-carried her below deck. “I can walk by meself, guv’ner.” She intentionally lowered her voice, but still it sounded more like a socialite than a boy to her ears. Could she pull this off? Her limbs were shaking so badly she wasn’t at all certain she could walk by herself.

He dropped her to the floor once they got below deck but still kept a hand at the nape of her shirt, bunching the fabric in his large hand. “So, walk then, laddie.” He shoved her forward, and she stumbled, but kept her balance.

He’d called her a lad. She blew out a breath. At least one man bought her disguise.

“Where to?” As if she had a say in the matter.

He grabbed her arm and hurried their pace. “To the captain’s quarters. That’s where we take all the stowaways.”

She trembled but wrenched her arm away from his grasp. “How many of us are there?”

“Yer the first one I’ve come across this trip, but there’ve been others.” She glanced at the deckhand. His grizzly face was bearded, his sneer revealed a shiny gold tooth, and his matted hair fell to his shoulders. He made her insides quake. Definitely, he was the most fearful person she’d ever come into contact with. “’Tis a pity we’re so far out to sea already. We coulda just tossed you back into the harbor a couple hours ago.”

Pippa couldn’t stop the full body tremor that pulsed through her. She didn’t know how to swim. Young ladies of the Ton didn’t partake in such foolishness. She took a deep breath and faced forward. Not being able to swim was the least of her concerns right now. She had an appointment with the captain, and her fate awaited.

The gnarly deckhand stopped in front of a door and knocked once.

            “Enter.”

He opened the door and shoved Pippa inside before he followed.

“I was just about to crack open one of them water barrels when I found this mongrel, hiding in the middle.” He clutched her arm again.

As if she could have escaped this small room, with the deckhand standing in front of the door and the captain staring at her as if she were a bug he wished to squash. She held her breath.

“Nice work, Ben. Leave the boy here. I’ll decide what to do with him.” The captain rounded his desk and continued to stare at her. She stared back. English society had thus far limited her to dancing in ballrooms and charming various titled gentlemen, and she was ill-equipped to deal with the likes of the rugged-looking captain. His face was tanned, his body muscled, and altogether, he was the most handsome man she’d ever met. His jawline could slice paper, his blue eyes matched the sea.

Pippa expelled a breath, feeling the walls of the cabin close in. She’d never been alone in a room with a man before. Of course, her first experience would have to be with the most handsome man ever, and she in disguise as a boy. A disguise she needed to keep up for the duration of the voyage. In the ballroom, members of the Ton applauded her using her feminine wiles on a man, but in this case, those tools would not work. She couldn’t charm her way out of her situation.

Pippa is one of my favorite heroines of all time. She steals cheroots wherever she can, and is a bit of an impetuous person. I like to think I'd have done the same, had I been living during those days. I hope this excerpt has intrigued you, and that you'll order your copy when it is released.