Search Results

“With twists and turns as unexpected as an Arkansas thunderstorm, Tromp brilliantly explores the things war can change and the important things it can’t.” — Lynne Gentry, USA Today best-selling author of Lethal Outbreak Go to: About the Book | Excerpt | The Author | Limited-Time Giveaway Shadows in the Mind's Eyes Charlotte Anne Mattas longs to turn back the clock. Before her husband, Sam, went to serve his country in the war, he was the man everyone could rely on–responsible, intelligent, and loving. But the person who’s come back to their family farm is very different from the protector Annie remembers. Sam’s experience in the Pacific theater has left him broken in ways no one can understand–but that everyone is learning to fear. Tongues start wagging after Sam nearly kills his own brother. Now when he claims to have seen men on the mountain when no one else has seen them, Annie isn’t the only one questioning his sanity and her safety. If there were criminals haunting the hills, there should be evidence beyond his claims. Is he really seeing what he says, or is his war-tortured mind conjuring ghosts? Annie desperately wants to believe her husband. But between his irrational choices and his nightmares leaking into the daytime, she’s terrified he’s going mad. Can she trust God to heal Sam’s mental wounds–or will sticking by him mean keeping her marriage at the cost of her own life? Debut novelist Janyre Tromp delivers a deliciously eerie, Hitchcockian story filled with love and suspense. Readers of psychological thrillers and historical fiction by Jaime Jo Wright and Sarah Sundin will add Tromp to their favorite authors list. Get your copy ↓ AMAZON | BARNES & NOBLE | INDIEBOUND Enjoy an Excerpt from Shadows in the Mind's Eye A scramble in the haymow sent bits of straw raining down on me. The movement was too large to be any of the barn cats, and my fingers tightened around the leather reins, my rapid heartbeat loud in the silence. The sound of a footstep on the planks above shattered my frozen stance, and I spun and backed toward the doors, my mind bouncing between escaping or protecting my girl. My foot caught on a rough spot, and I stumbled, falling in a scrambling heap. Everything was silent. Even Elsie stood still as death in her stall. Shivers crept down my spine. The devil himself had come out of the mountain, casting a cloud over everything. Peter had warned me that he’d caught a few drifters up on the farm. Elsie kicked against the wall, and a scream clogged in my throat as I stumbled into the nearby grain store, searching desperately for a weapon. The cow lowed at me, rolling her big brown eyes like she wondered who’d let the crazy woman into the barn. The metal grain scoop wasn’t going to do much, but I held it in front of me nonetheless. Least it might protect me until I crossed the barn to get my shotgun out of the wagon. “Who’s up there?” My voice was run over by fear. Wasn’t sure even the cow could hear me. I’d read about blood-crazed men coming home from the war. We’d asked them to be killers over there, and some were having trouble giving it up. But as the calm, chirping cricket chorus started back up, the stories of those men not quite right and doing terrible, twisted things began to evaporate. I’d near convinced myself I’d dreamed it all when a man-shaped figure peered over the ledge. I recovered my voice, the scream ripping through the air as I dropped the grain scoop, ran for the shotgun, and stood in the shadows between the intruder and my sleeping daughter. “Best stay where you are. I got a gun.” My shaking hands belied the confidence in my voice. The man’s answer was muffled by his stumbling descent. Though I followed his movements with the barrel of the gun, I wouldn’t shoot him even if I’d thought to load the durn thing. Last thing I wanted was the law sniffing around the farm because I’d killed some drifter. Sure as the sun rises in the east they’d find something, and then Daddy would swoop in to smother me with his saving. “We don’t have much food to share.” My voice sounded like an unsteady girl’s, cracking in the middle, but the footsteps stopped. “We’ll feed you, then you best be on your way.” I shifted my sweaty grip on the shotgun. I could do whatever was necessary. Think of Rosie. “Come on out.” My command echoed into the rafters. The man stepped forward, the meager light behind him casting strange shadows across his body. His tattered uniform hung on him, and a row of medals glinted from the chest that had no doubt once been broad and strong. The poor man. The tip of the gun dipped. I heard a match strike and fizz, watched it sacrifice its light to the lantern by Elsie’s stall. The chest of the man leapt into color, and he brushed at the splotches of mud across his navy trousers. A gold wedding band caught the light, and I was so mesmerized by the meaning that I nearly missed him speaking. “Annie?” He stepped toward me, squinting into the flickering light. “Annie?” That voice. The shotgun clattered to the ground. I gasped for air, my fingers fluttering to my lips, praying I wasn’t dreaming. But then his arms were around me, his breath against my hair, my neck. Desperate. Lost. His body, skinnier than I ever thought possible, yet real, wrapped around mine. Please, God. Real. His stubbly beard pricked my fingertips while his fingers explored my face, his calluses scratching my skin, anchoring me. He pressed my head into his chest, and his heart pounded against my hand, beating in rhythm with my own. The dovetail fit of our bodies—nearly forgotten, but precious and right. My Sam was home. I took a half-step back, brushing at my day-rumpled dress, wondering how he saw me, wishing I’d had time to change. Least I wasn’t in my blue jeans or overalls. I choked back a laugh, imagining him mistaking me for Rosie the Riveter. He wiped a tear from my cheek, and then he sketched the trail of the others down my neck, my skin burning under his touch. “Are you real?” he whispered, echoing my own question. I’d thought for sure I’d be a widow at twenty-three. Took more than a telegram about a homecoming to make me believe, I guess. My fingers ran up his arm, over his muscles and bone, the line of medals, exploring for the injury I knew was there somewhere. He winced as I reached his right shoulder. “I’m supposed to be wearing a sling, but it gets in my way.” I heard the smirk in his voice. He never did let much slow him down. He lifted my hand to his lips, his breath warming my fingers before he kissed my palm. Life shifted back, and I took the first real breath I’d had in three long years. Sam was home. And everything would be all right. End of Excerpt. Shadows in the Mind's Eye ©2022 Janyre Tromp. Shared with permission. Meet the Author / Find Online In case we get to meet in person some day, you pronounce that first name Jan-air. Kind of like the stove. I’m a developmental book editor by day and a writer at night. And that all happens from my kitchen table when I’m not hanging out with my husband, two kids, and slightly eccentric Shetland Sheepdog. Unfortunately, I spilled coffee on my super cape and then the dryer ate it. So you’ll just have to imagine I can do it all! I have four traditionally published books—a WWII era novel, Shadows in the Mind’s Eye ; a juvenile fiction, That Sinking Feeling ; and two board books in the All About God’s Animals series—and 2 indie books— Wide Open , a historical novella and It’s a Wonderful Christmas , a Christmas novella collection. But my passion is writing about the beauty of the world—past and present—even when it isn’t pretty. After all, isn’t it the beauty in the world that gets us through the day? Hopefully after you hang out with me for a bit, we’ll be able to see things a little more clearly, find a little bit of meaning, and make a bigger impact. With me what you see is what you get…all the Beautiful, all the Ugly, all the Me. Find the author online ↓ WEBSITE | FACEBOOK | TWITTER | INSTAGRAM | GOODREADS Genre: Historical Fiction/Christian Publication Date: April 19, 2022 Kregel Publications Type: Novel Content Rating: R View our rating system Go to: About the Book | Excerpt | Top of Post Limited-Time Giveaway Enter to win a copy of Shadows in the Mind’s Eye by Janyre Tromp! CLICK HERE TO ENTER THE GIVEAWAY Boring Legal Jargon: The giveaway is open to the US only and ends on May 20, 2022. You must be 18 or older to enter/at the time of entry. Void where prohibited by law. This giveaway is sponsored by the author and hosted by Historical Fiction Virtual Book Tours. The winner will be contacted directly by the author or blog tour host and not by Books & Benches. Thank you for visiting and reading! Feel inspired? Want others to experience the book magic? We hope you'll support this author by sharing with your friends. Have you read the book? Let us know your thoughts!

“[An] enchanting mystery. . . . Gray perfectly captures the personalities of Austen’s beloved characters. This is a real treat for Austenites.” — Publishers Weekly The Murder of Mr. Wickham A summer house party turns into a thrilling whodunit when Jane Austen's Mr. Wickham—one of literature’s most notorious villains—meets a sudden and suspicious end in this brilliantly imagined mystery featuring Austen’s leading literary characters. The happily married Mr. Knightley and Emma are throwing a party at their country estate, bringing together distant relatives and new acquaintances—characters beloved by Jane Austen fans. Definitely not invited is Mr. Wickham, whose latest financial scheme has netted him an even broader array of enemies. As tempers flare and secrets are revealed, it’s clear that everyone would be happier if Mr. Wickham got his comeuppance. Yet they’re all shocked when Wickham turns up murdered—except, of course, for the killer hidden in their midst. Nearly everyone at the house party is a suspect, so it falls to the party’s two youngest guests to solve the mystery: Juliet Tilney, the smart and resourceful daughter of Catherine and Henry, eager for adventure beyond Northanger Abbey; and Jonathan Darcy, the Darcys’ eldest son, whose adherence to propriety makes his father seem almost relaxed. In this tantalizing fusion of Austen and Christie, from New York Times bestselling author Claudia Gray, the unlikely pair must put aside their own poor first impressions and uncover the guilty party—before an innocent person is sentenced to hang. Get your copy ↓ AMAZON | BARNES & NOBLE | BOOK DEPOSITORY | BOOKSHOP Add to → GOODREADS | BOOKBUB Enjoy an Excerpt from The Murder of Mr. Wickham Three times now, Fitzwilliam Darcy had believed himself permanently rid of the odious presence of George Wickham. Three times, he’d been wrong. The division eight months ago had seemed as though it had to be final, but no. Fate could be pernicious. “Ah,” Wickham said, strolling forward. “I see my timing is inopportune. In the city, you see, the fashion is for later dinners.” Knightley stood, pale and drawn. He looked as though he loathed Wickham as much as Darcy did. “You would not have been invited at any hour.” Wickham’s smile widened. Somehow, in the heart of a confrontation, the man managed to seem even more at ease. “If I waited for an invitation to receive that which is mine in right of law—yes, Mr. Knightley, I imagine my wait would be very long.” Knightley’s lips pressed together. Emma’s face had flushed with ill-repressed anger. Nor were they the only persons agitated at the table: Wentworth’s expression was dark, and his wife had tensed, as though she expected to have to fly from her chair to hold him back. Worst of all was dear Elizabeth, frozen like ice in her seat; her fingers were wrapped tightly around the hilt of her dinner knife. Jonathan’s distrust of his uncle clearly warred with his concern for his mother. As for the Brandons, the Bertrams, and the young Miss Tilney: they each appeared deeply confused by the sudden, severe deviation from common civility. Therefore, none of them had ever met George Wickham before. Darcy envied them the privilege. A loud clap of thunder rumbled through the air, the house, the ground itself. In the next instant, raindrops began to pelt the windows and ground, striking the windowpanes until they rattled. Darcy could’ve cursed aloud. To judge by the hoofbeats he’d heard outside earlier, Wickham had arrived on horseback rather than by carriage, and not even the most odious company would be thrown out in such weather. Particularly in such hilly country as this corner of Surrey—to attempt to ride in a severe thunderstorm risked the health and nerves of one’s horse, and even one’s life. Wickham raised an eyebrow, as aware as anyone of the etiquette that imprisoned his hosts. “It seems I shall be staying for a while.” *** “I fear we cannot accommodate you at the table, Mr. Wickham.” Mrs. Knightley pushed her chair back as abruptly as an ill-mannered child. Jonathan would’ve been scolded for less, as a boy. She said, “Allow me to get you settled, and the servants will bring something up to you for dinner.” With that she strode out of the room. After a moment, Wickham inclined his head to the table—an ironical half bow—then followed her. Had she done the right thing? The normal rules could not apply to such a situation as this. Jonathan would’ve resolved to ask his parents later had they not appeared so stricken. No, he would be left to interpret this for himself. A silence followed, empty of words and yet suffocatingly heavy. Finally, Knightley cleared his throat. “My dear guests, I must beg your pardon. The gentleman who has arrived is . . . no friend to this household. Yet there are matters between us that must be resolved.” “He seemed insolent in the extreme,” said Mrs. Brandon, astonishingly forthright. “What a disagreeable person.” In any other circumstances, Jonathan might’ve found such a pronouncement rude; tonight, people seemed freed to speak their thoughts—and to the whole table, at that. Understandable, perhaps, but in his opinion it set a dangerous precedent. “George Wickham is indeed disagreeable,” Knightley agreed, “however skilled he is at pretending otherwise.” Brandon spoke for the first time at dinner. “Did you say—Mr. George Wickham?” Knightley nodded. “A former army officer, who now fancies himself an arranger of investments. Bah! Investments that work to his own gain and everyone else’s loss.” “Certainly to ours,” Wentworth said, his voice hollow. Jonathan saw Mrs. Wentworth wince. But she rallied swiftly, turning to Darcy and asking very civilly, “How are you acquainted with Mr. Wickham, sir?” “We grew up together in Derbyshire,” Darcy said. Brandon’s fork clattered against the dinner plate. Jonathan wondered— How could anyone continue eating at such a time? “He was the son of my late father’s steward. As adults, our ways parted for many years.” To his surprise, it was Mother who spoke next. “Then Mr. Wickham married my sister Lydia.” And Lydia and George Wickham had had a daughter. For a moment, Jonathan remembered Susannah so vividly that she might’ve been sitting at his side, giggling as she so often did, dark curls framing her round, smiling face. To him, she had been more sister than cousin. To his parents, Susannah had been more daughter than niece. He knew himself and his brothers to be dearly loved, but he knew also that for many years his mother and father had longed for a little girl that never came. Then, eight years ago, Susannah had been born—the belated first and only child of his aunt and uncle. Neither Aunt Lydia nor Uncle George had possessed much interest in the daily tedium of child-rearing; as soon as Susannah had left her wet nurse, she had been packed off to Pemberley for lengthy visits. Indeed, Susannah had spent far more of her short life in his home than she ever had with her parents. This suited everyone: Mother and Father, who doted on the child; Jonathan and his brothers, who were old enough to find her odd little ways amusing rather than irritating; Aunt Lydia and Uncle George, who showed no evidence of ever missing their daughter; and Susannah herself, who wept piteously before each of her journeys home and always ran back into Pemberley as fast as her small legs would bear her. She would never run through the doors again. End of Excerpt. Excerpt courtesy of Vintage Books, A Division of Penguin Random House LLC, New York. Copyright © 2022 by Claudia Gray. All rights reserved. Meet the Author / Find Online Claudia Gray is the pseudonym of Amy Vincent. She is the writer of multiple young adult novels, including the Evernight series, the Firebird trilogy, and the Constellation trilogy. In addition, she’s written several Star Wars novels, such as Lost Stars and Bloodline . She makes her home in New Orleans with her husband Paul and assorted small dogs. Find the author online ↓ WEBSITE | TWITTER | FACEBOOK | INSTAGRAM BOOKBUB | GOODREADS Title: The Murder of Mr. Wickham Author: Claudia Gray Genre: Historical Mystery, Cozy Mystery, Austenesque Publisher: ‎Vintage (May 3, 2022) Length: (400) pages Format: Trade paperback, eBook, & audiobook ISBN: 978-0593313817 Content Rating: PG/PG-13 View our rating system Go to: About the Book | Excerpt | Top of Post Thank you for visiting and reading! Feel inspired? Want others to experience the book magic? We hope you'll support this author by sharing with your friends. Have you read the book? Let us know your thoughts!

This is an adventure set in the bloody Second Scottish War of Independence when Scotland's very survival is in question. The Douglas Bastard The Black Douglas is dead. With Scotland's greatest knight no more, the throne is up for grabs as enemies try to devour the kingdom. An orphaned youth returning from exile, Archibald, the Black Douglas's bastard son, fights for a land being torn apart from within and without. If Archibald is to survive, he must learn to sleep with a claymore in his hand and one eye open because even his closest friend might betray him... This is an adventure set in the bloody Second Scottish War of Independence when Scotland's very survival is in question. AMAZON UK | AMAZON US | AMAZON CA | BARNES & NOBLE | KOBO | APPLE Enjoy an Excerpt from The Douglas Bastard Sometimes I laughed as I worked, the lightness bubbling out from my chest, although every muscle ached, and I was covered with scrapes and bruises. Tiny midges swarmed in clouds, so I had hundreds of itching bites. That was the worst part. Sir William was absent much of the time, meeting with the other leaders to discuss plans and riding out with some of his men to search for any sign of an English relief. The hardest part was digging a trench to divert water from the River Almond that fed into the Lade, the moat protecting Perth’s walls. We started at the Tay, where the water would drain, digging into the loamy, rich-smelling earth. Even in the summer, the dirt was damp. It took two weeks, with scores of men taking turns until the trench was four feet deep and twice as wide. At last, we broke through to the river, and water gushed into the ditch. I strolled to the edge of the Lade, where water was still flowing in. "All that work"—I kicked a clod of dirt into the shallow flow—"and it still has water." A fletched crossbow bolt thudded into the ground a foot away. Gamelin grabbed my arm, jerked me even farther away, and pointed to the several piles of large rocks. "It has to be blocked, but we have to wait for Boyd to bring his archers. They will try to keep the damned Sassenach ducking while we work." He pushed me toward the camp. "It's too dangerous a job for a page. Go ask Sir William what needs doing.” I went, looking over my shoulder. Men carrying bows were loping toward the Lade. They strung their bows. Sir William was talking with Bullock in front of his tent beneath the starred banner. Bullock said that as soon as the water was dammed, they needed to cover the muddy bottom of the Lade, but Sir William shook his head. "That dam willnae hold long.” "It only needs to hold long enough for us to cross.” The knight broke off his conversation to look me up and down. "Go to the river and scrub off that filth. And use that sliver of soap in my tent. You look like a bogle covered in all that mud. Then tend to my armor and weapons. I shall need them soon." My pulse thrummed as I hurried to do as he bid. I scrubbed my skin until it stung and checked my lord's chainmail for any spots of rust, rubbing them off with sand. His sword and dagger were already sharp because he checked them himself every day, but I checked again to make sure. Then I took out my dagger from the scabbard on my belt and held it up to the light. I ran my finger down the twelve inches of its blade to its crossguard. If I needed it, it would be ready. Smiling, I sheathed it. There were cups to be rinsed, and a shirt needed to be brushed and laid out to air. After a while, my eyelids were so heavy that I curled up in my cloak, muttering, "I will rest for a wee while.” My eyes popped open. Sir William nudged me with his foot, probably not for the first time. “Up. Help me into my hauberk.” He already wore the quilted linen haubergeon that went under the chainmail armor. I hopped to my feet, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, and picked up the piece to hold as Sir William worked his way into it. This would normally be a squire’s job, so maybe I would be raised to match my tasks before too long. After all, I was nearly as tall as Sir Arnoul’s squire, who was a grown man. I knelt to fasten on the chainmail chausses and the plate pieces that covered his knees and elbows, and then came the bascinet and aventail protecting his head and neck. Lastly, I buckled the sword belt around his waist. When I held back the tent flap so Sir William could exit, I realized that it was still the semidarkness of a summer night. So far, I’d not seen a truly dark night in Scotland, and there was a rim of gold on the eastern horizon, so daybreak must be near. Silhouettes darted across the camp, grunting as they carried logs into the Lade to make a walkway over the brush. Bowshots made a steady twap twap as our archers tried to protect them, but the bolts still thudded into the ground from the English high on the walls. One of the men screamed as an English bolt found its target. “It’s Sir Alan!” one of the men yelled as another scooped up the still man to carry him to safety. A friar scurried to meet them, his black cloak flapping around his legs. “Ready the ladders,” Sir William bellowed. A horn shrilled from Robert Stewart’s camp, and the whole of the army became a tumult of running and shouting. Sir William was staring up at the wall where archers ducked behind the merlons to pop back up and fire. He did not glance behind him to see if his men were ready. He grabbed the front of one of the ladders and bellowed, “Now! Run!” He charged. The men surged with him, shouting, “A Douglas! A Douglas!” I kept pace behind him. I did not carry a ladder and was not supposed to be near the fighting. Arrows were thudding all around like hail despite the Scottish archers’ steady return fire. Sir Arnoul was next to me, shouting, “Montjoie Saint Denis!” Sir William jumped down into the Lade, Ramsay a step behind. I landed with bent knees and an “Oof!” The logs wobbled a little under my feet. Colban stumbled and went down on his hands and knees. When he saw me looking at him, his eyes widened, but then he just shook his head. He got up, lifted the ladder he carried with Gamelin, and kept going. A bolt thudded into a log at his feet. I realized it had grown light enough that I could see the top of the wall and crossbowmen firing down as fast as they could winch their bows. Pushed back by men who snarled at me to get out of the way, I was at the rear. But I advanced with them, scrambling up the far side of the Lade. Then I heard the thump of a ladder hitting the top of the wall. An archer dropped his bow to heave at it. There was a shriek. Arms and legs flailing, a man crashed to the ground beside me. I jumped away from the falling ladder. Sir William was starting to climb as more ladders were raised, braced by men on the ground. Ramsay was on a ladder beside him and reached the top first. He gave a roar of triumph. With a lunge, Sir William threw himself over. Then his men swarmed after him. I squirmed and shoved my way to a ladder and frantically climbed. Then I threw my arms over and scrambled onto the parapet walk. Sir William shouted, “On them!” As a man-at-arms came at him, the knight smashed his hilt into the man’s nose while he drew his dagger with the other hand. Gamelin joined him on the walkway and thrust under the man’s guard. Even as the blood splashed, he toppled backward to the ground below. An English knight in shining chainmail put his sword through the back of one of the men, and Sir William stepped over the body to face him. The Englishman swung from a high guard. Sir William parried the blow and locked their hilts. Swords locked together, almost chest to chest, they heaved. Rolling his wrists to free his sword, Sir William slammed his arm into the Englishman’s neck. It rocked the man back. His feet tangled in the body, and he flailed, fighting to stay on his feet. His sword skittered from his hand. He shouted, “I yield.” A crossbowman stopped, aiming at Sir William’s back, so I darted forward. I raised my dagger and jabbed it as hard as I could. It scraped along his chainmail-clad shoulder. He swung around with a growl and hit me up the side of the head. I bounced hard back against a merlon, seeing black for a second. Colban roared, “A Douglas!” and chopped the man down. The mass of our men was still flowing over the ramparts. Swords slashed, axes hacked. The enemy broke. They jumped from the parapet and ran. But a crossbowman at the far end of the rampart pointed his bow and let fly. The bolt hit Sir William in the thigh. He gave a shout and fell. A charge of his men crushed the archer to the ground in a flurry of blows. A horn blew a frantic cry within the city. “We yield!” a voice shouted. “The city is yours! We yield!" The horn sounded again and again. I jumped over a corpse, raced to Sir William, and knelt beside him. End of Excerpt. The Douglas Bastard ©2022 JR Tomlin. Shared with permission. The Author J. R. Tomlin is the author of nineteen historical novels. She has close ties with Scotland since her father was a native Scot, and she spent substantial time in Edinburgh while growing up. Her historical novels are set for the most part in Scot-land. Her love of that nation is traced from the stories of Robert the Bruce and the Good Sir James her grandmother read to her when she was small, to hillwalking through the Cairngorms where the granite hills have a gorgeous red glow under the setting sun. Later, her writ-ing was influenced by Alexander Dumas, Victor Hugo, Nigel Tranter, and Sir Walter Scott. When JR isn't writing, she enjoys hiking, playing with her Westie, and killing monsters in computer games. In addition to spending time in Scotland, she has traveled in the US, Eu-rope, and the Pacific Rim. She now lives in Oregon. Website: jrtomlin.com Twitter: https://twitter.com/JRTomlinAuthor BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/j-r-tomlin Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/J.R.-Tomlin/e/B002J4ME1S Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4094154.J_R_Tomlin Book Title: The Douglas Bastard Series: (A sequel to The Black Douglas Trilogy) Author: J R Tomlin Publication Date: 26th April 2022 Publisher: Albannach Publishing Genre: Historical Fiction Thank you for visiting and reading! Feel inspired? Want others to experience the book magic? We hope you'll support this author by sharing with your friends.

Meet the Thompsons of Locust Street, an unconventional family taking Philadelphia high society by storm… The Professor's Lady 1870 Kirsty Thompson is determined to begin her own business bringing beloved Scottish fabrics and yarns to Philadelphia but first she must meet the men and women who weave the plaids and spin the wool. How will she ever escape her protective older siblings and sail to Scotland? Albert Watson is a medical doctor focusing on research, especially that of Joseph Lister and his sterilization techniques. He speaks at universities in America and in England while visiting his London relatives. As he prepares to sail for just such an engagement, Kirsty Thompson boards his ship to beg him to take her with him. What’s a gentleman to do? Albert cancels his trip across the ocean to escort Miss Thompson back to Philadelphia and finds there is danger afoot for her and her family. Soon he comes to realize there is also danger for his heart, even for a man who rarely pulls his nose from a medical journal. He finds himself unable to put Miss Kirsty Thompson out of his thoughts, where they belonged, because certainly a beautiful, ambitious, and charming young woman could have no interest in him. Or could she? AMAZON | BARNES & NOBLE | KOBO | APPLE Enjoy an Excerpt from The Professor's Lady “Whatever has happened, Albert?” his mother asked when he found her in her favorite chintz-covered chair in the room she called the drawing room. “That Clawson person said you were not going to London! Have you contacted your Uncle Bertrand? Louisa will be expecting you! You must send a transatlantic immediately, even though it will be quite expensive. Albert? Have you heard what I’ve said to you?” “Yes, Mother. I’ve heard it all. C-clawson has already sent a telegram to Uncle Bertrand and Aunt Louisa with my apologies.” “Whatever happened? Clawson was quite mysterious and would not give me any answers! And I do not understand why that person must live here! In our home!” “We have the space as there are sixteen bedrooms in this house aside from the staff quarters. It isn’t unusual in England for a s-secretary to live with his employer, and it is convenient for me to have him here. And he does have his own entrance.” “It is bad enough that you have him dine with us occasionally. I would have insisted on his own entrance if he did not! I don’t want to be seeing him coming and going at all hours.” “And Graybell and Mrs. Munchin live here in their own apartments.” “Of course they do! B-butlers and housekeepers always live with their employers.” “And often so do secretaries.” She opened the magazine she was holding. “As usual, you are determined to ignore my wishes.” He’d only been marginally aware of his mother’s histrionics until after his father died. He was away at preparatory school and then college, and when he was home, he spent most of his time reading medical books and working with his father while he was alive. It had come as rather a shock that his mother was as unpleasant as she was, which he’d discovered after his father’s funeral. From what he’d been able to wheedle from Graybell over the last few years, his mother’s behavior had not changed. It had just been hidden from him. He loved her. She was his mother. But he often wondered how a wife would ever fit in. “A friend needed an escort, and I provided it, and therefore I did not sail with the Maybelle to England. Mr. Clawson will reschedule my speaking engagement, and I will ask Aunt Louisa if it will be c-convenient for us to stay on a new date.” “Of course it will be convenient! Whyever would they not want you to stay with them? Your father was a successful and well-regarded physician to the highest echelons of British society and Bertrand just a merchant.” Just a merchant , Albert thought to himself. Uncle Bertrand had made a fortune in bits for horses, although his wide range of metal products included everything from rails for the ever-expanding British railroads to containers for flour and sugar. “I’ll just want to make sure they have not made plans to travel or entertain other guests. I wouldn’t want to be a burden.” “Don’t be ridiculous. They don’t travel. Louisa is a spendthrift, and they’ve three daughters to launch, none of whom show much promise to be beauties.” She looked at him with panicked eyes. “Whatever you do, do not let yourself be caught in a compromising position with the two eldest. Louisa would love to see one of them married to you and moved here to America, to live in my home!” “Calm yourself, Mother. I’ve no intention of marrying any of my cousins.” She took a deep breath, her back straight, her hands clenching a handkerchief, and turned her head to look out the front windows. “I’ve been preparing myself for your marriage. You’ll need to have sons to carry on your father’s title. I will have much to teach a young woman about household management.” The reality of his situation came crashing down on him at that moment. His mother, his mother , could make it nearly impossible for him to have any sort of normal relationship with a woman. Although in his last letter, Uncle Bertrand had replied to his subtle questions about how his father had managed his mother’s tendency to drama through all the years of their marriage with this advice: Stand firm. Your father never raised his voice and did not allow your mother’s moods to threaten his, for as you know, my brother was the most even-tempered and pleasant person one could ever meet! What else he did not allow was when she disparaged another person, especially staff. I know you love her, as any dutiful son should, but your mother can be cruel, especially, it seems, to those of her sex. “I will see you at dinner, Mother,” he said, refusing to begin a conversation about who actually ran the household—his mother or Mrs. Munchin. End of Excerpt. The Professor's Lady ©2022 Holly Bush. Shared with permission. The Author Holly Bush writes historical romance set in the U.S.in the late 1800’s, in Victorian England, and an occasional Women’s Fiction title. Her books are described as emotional, with heartfelt, sexy romance. She makes her home with her husband in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania. Connect with Holly at www.hollybushbooks.com . Book Title: The Professor’s Lady Series: The Thompsons of Locust Street, Book 3 Author: Holly Bush Publication Date: 25th January 2022 Publisher: Holly Bush Books Page Length: 216 Pages Genre: Historical Romance Gilded Age Thank you for visiting and reading! Feel inspired? Want others to experience the book magic? We hope you'll support this author by sharing with your friends.

The future is built in the embers of the past. Venture to the Plymouth Colony in 1675 to live alongside Verity Parker to see if she will choose peace or happiness, duty or love. Go to: About the Book | Excerpt | The Author | Limited-Time Giveaway Iron & Fire 1675 — Plymouth Colony — Verity Parker promised to look after her family. Raised among the bookshops and turmoil of Reformation London, Verity now finds herself in Puritan New England, where she must learn to keep her head down and her mouth shut, or risk dire consequences. The only person who values her tenacity is Kit, the heretical ironworker she has been forbidden to see. When King Philip’s War breaks out, Verity must stay silent as the Puritan elders spread hateful rhetoric about the “savages” in the forest. When she witnesses a young girl die in childbirth, Verity must stand by as neighbors blame God’s vengeance. But when tragedy strikes her own home, Verity must choose between her duty to her family and her love for Kit. Will she choose to keep the peace, or will she defy the leaders of the colony for a chance at happiness? Set against the backdrop of King Philip’s War, the bloodiest war per capita in American history, Iron & Fire explores the experience of a clever, educated woman at a time when being so often resulted in death. Perfect for fans of Amy Belding Brown’s Flight of the Sparrow, or Elizabeth George Speare’s The Witch of Blackbird Pond, Iron & Fire was written for those who read the original American Girl series as children and are now all grown up. Get your copy ↓ AMAZON | BARNES AND NOBLE | WALMART Enjoy an Excerpt from Iron & Fire Talk around the dinner table that afternoon revolved mainly around the three Indians who had been arrested for the murder of the praying Indian, John Sassamon. Verity’s eldest stepbrothers, Jon and Diah, questioned their father about the incident, and Obadiah Elston was more than pleased to share the gritty details. Verity sat in silence between Hannah and Mercy, swirling her stew around with her spoon, as Obadiah recounted the story. Sassamon, a Massachusett Indian who had converted to Christianity and been educated at Harvard College, had been found beneath the ice of Assawompset pond a few months past, his neck badly broken. It was said that he had angered the Wampanoag chief, King Philip, and that Philip had ordered his murder. Obadiah was clearly enjoying his personal pulpit at the head of the table, and Verity’s face and hands grew hot in annoyance as he said, “Soon, the savage’s executioners will feel the wrath of God around their own necks, as is fitting.” “How can you call it fitting to hang men for the crime of murder? Does that not make the men who pass the sentence murderers as well?” Verity barely realized she had spoken aloud until she felt eight pairs of eyes staring at her in astonishment. Joseph, who sat directly across the table from his stepsister, looked at her with eyes wide enough to fall clean out of his head, and next to him, little Grace’s lips formed a perfect “O” at the impertinence of Verity’s question. Obadiah cleared his throat, and said pointedly to Verity, “An eye for an eye, Mistress Parker. Good Christian men,” he emphasized the word, “ must show King Philip that those who attack the English, or those who give us succor, will face the vengeance of the Lord.” He punctuated this point with his spoon, before digging into his meal. Obadiah was finished with the discussion, and as such, there would be no more talk until after the meal was completed. Was such an aggressive warning necessary? The few Indians Verity had seen appeared to be peaceful, but they didn’t represent the whole of their people any more than she and her family represented the entire colony of Plymouth. Verity had been taught in the Quaker meetings of her childhood about the inward light of God, inherent in each person on earth, regardless of country or creed. Surely that light existed within the Indians, as well as the English? And yet, she recalled her father reading from the works of George Fox, founder of the Quaker Society of friends, that Light would not grow if not tended to. If the Indians were just as likely as the English to house a connection to the Almighty, then they were also just as likely to ignore it in favor of their more immediate needs. Verity turned these questions over in her head as she finished her meal, working to make sense of them. The shadows from the hearth fire danced on the walls of the keeping room, giving an air of foreboding to what had previously seemed to be a simple Sunday dinner. Perhaps it was the shadows, undulating on the walls like primal spirits of a time long past, but an icy chill ran down the base of Verity’s spine as she had a terrifying thought. “What will we do if the Indians attack?” The question hung in the air for a beat, as though Verity’s giving voice to their fear had rendered them all momentarily mute. Her mother finally broke the silence. “Do, child?” Her spoon paused halfway between the table and her lips. “We will pray that they do not attack.” “But if they do….” Jon spoke up, squaring his shoulders with the authority that came from being the eldest son. “The Indians are not to be trusted. There’s been talk — I don’t wish to frighten you — but we’d best be prepared.” He leaned forward in his chair. “The counsel talks of building three additional garrison houses. In the event of an attack by the Indians, the safest plan would be to move straight to the nearest garrison and remain there until the danger has passed.” “How will the danger pass?” Verity met his eyes squarely, challenging him to give her a satisfactory answer. “Why, we will fight them, of course,” Jon’s eyes shone. “The women and children will be safe in the garrison, and the men will show the heathens what happens when they attack our settlements.” “All the men who are of an age to fight will do so.” Obadiah’s words tempered his son’s fervor. At 14, Jon considered himself a man. His father, however, did not, and this was a point of contention in the home. “The Bible tells us that there is a time for war, and a time for peace. We will not wage war against the Indians unless provoked, but if they burn our farms and violate our women, we must retaliate.” A rock settled in Verity’s stomach at the fervor in the men’s eyes. She wanted to confront her stepfather and ask him if he’d ever experienced war, or if he thought the Indian men were as fiercely protective of their women and children as he was of his own, but she knew it would come to naught. Again, she would be seen as impertinent. Again, someone would tell her stepfather that he needed to keep a better control on her tongue. Again her mother and sister would give her that look of disappointed confusion, silently asking Verity why she can’t just fit in their new world. End of Excerpt. Iron & Fire ©2022 Kerrin Willis. Shared with permission. Meet the Author / Find Online Kerrin Willis lives in Southeastern Massachusetts with her two daughters and her dog, Austen. She is a high school English teacher who prides herself on being a feminist and a strong protagonist in her own story, and she would probably have been burned as a witch in colonial New England. Kerrin can usually be found pausing The Little Mermaid and subjecting her daughters to a lecture on the dangers of giving up their voices. Kerrin has a BA in English from Stonehill College, and MA in English from Simmons College, and is currently working on her MFA in Fiction from Southern New Hampshire University. Find the author online ↓ WEBSITE | FACEBOOK | TWITTER | INSTAGRAM | GOODREADS Genre: Historical Fiction Release: April 5, 2022 Type: Novel Content Rating: PG-13/R View our rating system Go to: About the Book | Excerpt | Top of Post Limited-Time Giveaway Enter to win a copy of Iron & Fire by Kerrin Willis! CLICK HERE TO ENTER THE GIVEAWAY Boring Legal Jargon: The giveaway is open to the US only and ends on April 22, 2022. You must be 18 or older to enter/at the time of entry. Void where prohibited by law. This giveaway is sponsored by the author and hosted by Historical Fiction Virtual Book Tours. The winner will be contacted directly by the author or blog tour host and not by Books & Benches. Thank you for visiting and reading! Feel inspired? Want others to experience the book magic? We hope you'll support this author by sharing with your friends. Have you read the book? Let us know your thoughts!

Betrayal and trust go hand in hand in the first book of Heidi Eljarbo’s new turn-of-the-century series Secrets of Rosenli Manor. She's giving us a sneak peek inside the story, so keep reading! Go to: About the Book | Excerpt | The Author | Book Details Secrets of Rosenli Manor Betrayal and trust go hand in hand in the first book of Heidi Eljarbo’s new turn-of-the-century series. It’s 1898, and Lilly has spent most of her life motherless and living with a father who never looks for a silver lining. When her great-aunt Agatha passes, Lilly’s existence takes a drastic turn. She packs her few belongings and moves into the old lady’s magnificent estate, Rosenli Manor. In the days that follow, Lilly tries to understand who Agatha really was, and hidden secrets slowly rise to the surface. Her great-aunt’s glamorous legacy is not quite what Lilly had imag-ined. She must trust in newly forged friendships, and to her surprise, she discovers what it means to truly fall in love. But not everyone is happy about the new mistress of Rosenli. Intrigue, mystery, and a touch of romance in the Norwegian countryside fill the pages of Se-crets of Rosenli Manor. Get Your Copy ↓ AMAZON US | AMAZON UK | AMAZON CA | AMAZON AU Enjoy an Excerpt from Secrets of Rosenli Manor Great-aunt agatha passed away in her sleep on a night when God had lit every star in his heavenly front yard. At least, that’s how Lilly chose to see it. The message arrived from her father, and she shuddered as she recalled how he’d passed along the news. He’d called her his “stingy aunt” and said she’d “finally departed her miserably wealthy life.” Lilly had never truly known the old woman. Other than a few early childhood memories, she’d only heard stories. The problem with hearsay was never knowing how to separate facts from gossip, entwined and entangled as they were. Aunt Agatha’s name always came up during family gatherings. Festering envy had seemed to cause all sorts of rumors and reports, which had rapidly changed from mouth to ear time and again. Lilly’s relatives had strong opinions about most things and gladly shared them. Especially their disapproving views. “Agatha probably did this” and “Agatha most definitely might have done that” dominated their conversations. Not once could Lilly recall anyone uttering a friendly word or an encouraging comment. Only one person in the family had cherished the old woman—Lilly’s mother—but she had passed away the summer before Lilly started second grade. Sweet recollections of calling on Aunt Agatha with Mother were etched into Lilly’s remembrances with a gentle hand. Tea parties on the lawn amid an abundance of blooming perennials in hues of pink and lilac. A straight-backed butler who carried trays of lemonade, sandwiches, and cakes into the drawing room with its pastel decor. Scented floral arrangements of roses, peonies, and dianthus in a vase on a cream-colored, crocheted lace doily. Aunt Agatha with a tender smile, sitting with Lilly amidst soft pillows on the sofa, showing her collections of monogrammed stationeries with botanical illustrations and various embroidered napkins. The lovely items had stood in stark contrast with the simpler things Lilly was used to. She recalled playing with a rosy-cheeked golden-haired porcelain doll. Lilly would stroke its frilly, lace-trimmed dress and adjust the small parasol in the dolly’s hand while listening to Mother and Aunt Agatha discussing grown-up issues. Politics, Mother called the topics they’d covered. The two women gesticulated and spoke in a manner Lilly later understood as having been intelligent and filled with intuition and clarity. Their spirited conversation must have inspired Lilly, as she later chose to get an education. An education Father did not approve of but one that reminded Lilly of the afternoons at Rosenli Manor and how women’s opinions mattered. Mother had never spoken in such a way at home. She always played the role of a submissive, dutiful wife. But Lilly knew in her heart that had her mother lived today, she’d be proud of her daughter’s work as an accountant. When it came to the old mistress of Rosenli, Lilly had only good things to say about her great-aunt. Elegant, delicate, kind, yet smart and strong were the words she’d choose to describe the elderly lady. Their afternoon visits had always been delightful and filled with tender moments Lilly would never forget. End of Excerpt. Secrets of Rosenli Manor ©2022 Heidi Eljarbo. Shared with permission. The Author Heidi Eljarbo is the bestselling author of historical fiction and mysteries filled with courageous and good characters that are easy to love and others you don't want to go near. Heidi grew up in a home filled with books and artwork and she never truly imagined she would do anything other than write and paint. She studied art, languages, and history, all of which have come in handy when working as an author, magazine journalist, and painter. After living in Canada, six US states, Japan, Switzerland, and Austria, Heidi now calls Norway home. She and her husband have a total of nine children, thirteen grandchildren—so far—in addition to a bouncy Wheaten Terrier. Their favorite retreat is a mountain cabin, where they hike in the summertime and ski the vast, white terrain during winter. Heidi’s favorites are family, God's beautiful nature, and the word whimsical. Sign up for her newsletter at heidieljarbo.com/newsletter . Find Online ↓ Website | Twitter | Facebook | Instagram | BookBub | Amazon | Goodreads Genre: Historical Fiction / Historical Mystery Book Title: Secrets of Rosenli Manor Series: Mysteries of the Modern Ladies’ Society, Book 1 Author: Heidi Eljarbo Publication Date: 29th March 2022 Trigger Warnings: None provided. Go to: About the Book | Excerpt | Top of Post Thank you for visiting and reading! Feel inspired? Want others to experience the book magic? We hope you'll support this author by sharing with your friends. Have you read the book? Let us know your thoughts!

Two young lovers ripped apart A family feud turned deadly A secret waiting to be unearthed And a passion no one could ever deny Navigate to → Guest Post (with excerpt) | About the Book | Buy the Book Limited-Time Giveaway | About the Author & Connect In our opinion . . . Everything about this cover shouts, "Pick me up!" The colors, imagery, and well, everything balances and pops at all once. "Joined by a Fence" Plus a Bonus Excerpt! It’s a fact that communication on a large ranch was one of the biggest problems. At times it was crucial to get some way to relay information to the cowboys on the range as quickly as possible. Or for them to notify headquarters in the event of a medical emergency or wildfire. Before the late 1800s, it was done by sending a fast rider out. I found an interesting article in my Texas Electric Co-op magazine about this and have to share. One of the largest ranches in the world was the massive XIT in the Texas Panhandle at over three million acres, all fenced. That’s hard to fathom. The powers that be there heard about a way of attaching a very basic form of telephone onto the barbed wire fences and letting the wire carry the transmission. Though the quality was horrible, it sure proved to be a blessing. And all at no charge. They didn’t have to pay the phone service anything and they could even connect various ranches with each other. Later, when the phone company began to provide rural service, they took that idea and used existing power lines instead of stringing new. I have a new release on March 29, 2022— A Man of Legend . It takes place in 1908 in the middle of an industrialization boom and although the patriarch Stoker Legend wouldn’t allow telephones or automobiles on the Lone Star Ranch, they were widely available. There’s a crucial scene near the end of the book where Crockett Legend needs to get word quickly to his grandfather of the trouble and bemoans the lack of telephone access. It all works out and Crockett had to hitch a ride in an acquaintance’s new automobile to arrive in time to help save the day. Here’s a short excerpt from that scene: Crockett glanced up into John’s laughing eyes. The only person the man would do a favor like this for was Farrel Mahone. His gut twisted, and he broke out in a cold sweat. Suddenly, it all made sense. John was supposed to get Crockett off the ranch. Farrel was going to make good on his promise to kill either Paisley or Hilda or both. Or maybe he intended to abduct Tye. Maybe all three. Crockett stood so fast, he knocked his chair over. He had to get to a telegraph. He hurried out and collided with a woman in the hall. “Pardon me, ma’am. This is life and death.” Cursing the fact that Stoker had yet to install a telephone at headquarters, Crockett rushed down the street and sent a message to the Lone Star. “I’ll wait for a reply,” he told the operator. Ten minutes passed. Crockett paced, praying for a miracle. Then the machine began to tap while the man scribbled it down. “Here you go.” The operator handed the paper to him. Too late. Boy has disappeared, and women riding to get him back. A moment later, Crockett fired off another, asking about his dad. The return message said he and Stoker had gone to Medicine Springs to pick up a shipment. He sagged. Too late. He read the first message again. What women? Paisley and Hilda? Where were the men? Had they all left the ranch? He thrust a hand through his hair. He had to get home. “Isn’t there a noon train to Medicine Springs?” he asked the operator. “Not today.” “Thank you.” Crockett‘s thoughts whirled. He couldn’t wait that long. He was eighty miles away. If he bought a horse and rode it hard, he still wouldn’t make it by dark. He’d have to wait on the train. That would get him to Medicine Springs by eight, then forty-five minutes to the ranch. That was it. All the air went out of him. Whatever was going on, the women were on their own. He dropped into the nearest seat and put his head in his hands. * * * * I put a talking parrot named Casanova in this book that provides a lot of comical relief. He is quite taken with Paisley Mahone and fancies himself her boyfriend. And since Paisley becomes a nurse on the ranch, there are heartwarming scenes with her patients. Crockett watches it all with love in his heart for this special woman. You can find a longer excerpt at https://lindabroday.com/a-man-of-legend-3-lone-star-legends/ This is the first series I’ve written set in the 1900s. What is your favorite time period to read? This book concludes the Lone Star Legends. I’ve climbed aboard THE LOVE TRAIN (a multi-author series with nine other authors.) My next book is FANCY and it’ll release August 15, 2022. I’ll talk more about this in the coming days so stay tuned. A Man of Legend Bestselling author Linda Broday sweeps readers back to the wild and untamed West, where men became the stuff of legend. Crockett Legend has always loved Paisley Mahone, but a family feud sure can ruin a romance. When her father turned against the powerful Legend clan, she took her family's side and broke Crockett's heart into pieces. Now her father's dead and Paisley and her last remaining brother are convinced the Legends are to blame. If only he can find a way to prove his innocence... A chance meeting throws the two warring hearts together, and when their train is held up by outlaws, Crockett and Paisley have to team up to save a young boy from dying. A tenuous truce is born. Together they may have a chance of bringing the truth to light...if they can get to the bottom of who's been trying to turn the two powerful families against each other. With so many secrets to unbury, it isn't long before Paisley finds herself in the crosshairs, but Crockett vows there'll be hell to pay if anyone hurts the woman he loves—or stands in the way of a Legend in the making. Get the Book → Amazon | Apple | Nook | Kobo | More Options Limited-Time Giveaway Enter below to receive an e-book edition of A Man of Legend plus a $10 gift card! Entries close Monday, April 4, 2022. If the form below is not visible in your browser, click here to open it in a new window. This giveaway is sponsored by the author. Void where prohibited by law. Must be 18 years or older to subscribe to blog or enter giveaways. No purchase necessary. View policies . Meet the Author / Find Online At a young age, Linda Broday discovered a love for storytelling, history, and anything pertaining to the Old West. After years of writing romance, it's still tall rugged cowboys that spark her imagination. A New York Times and USA Today bestselling author, Linda has won many awards, including the prestigious National Readers' Choice Award and the Texas Gold. She resides in the Texas Panhandle where she's inspired every day. Website: lindabroday.com Be sure to connect with the author online! Find her on → Facebook | Twitter | Instagram Find her books → Amazon | BookBub | Goodreads Genre: Historical Western Romance Type: Novel Publisher: Sourcebooks Casablanca Series: Lone Star Legends, book 3 Publication date: March 29, 2022 Content Rating: 4 Hearts View rating system We hope you enjoyed learning about this great book! If you want to spread the book love, simply share this post with your friends and followers.

Do you enjoy a new book as much as we do? We love rereading our favorite books over and over, but there is something about discovering a fabulous new book we can't resist . . . so we won't try. We're delighted to share great reads you'll want to add to your TBR pile. Check out Alexa Aston's romantic suspense, Leave Yesterday Behind . Leave Yesterday Behind A popular actress at a turning point in her career. A professional athlete forging a new path as a fiction writer. And a serial killer interested in seeing both of them dead . . . Callie Chennault vaulted to fame on the nighttime soap Sumner Falls, but after a decade of playing the same role, she is ready for a new acting challenge. When Callie is attacked by a stalker on the streets of New York, she takes a leave of absence from the show and returns to her roots in Aurora, Louisiana, to heal both physically and emotionally and determine her next career move. Former professional baseball pitcher Nick La Chappelle has also come to Aurora to lick his own wounds after a messy divorce. A Cy Young winner and one-time ESPN broadcaster, Nick longs for the quiet of a small town in order to write murder mysteries under a pen name. Sparks fly when Callie believes Nick is taking advantage of her great-aunt’s hospitality, but they resolve their differences—and surprise themselves—by falling in love. Their bond is tested when both Nick and Callie become the focus of a serial killer nicknamed Lipstick Larry. Can they outwit a murderer bent on seeing them dead and survive to build a lasting relationship? *This is a revised edition of Leave Yesterday Behind, which was originally released under the pen name Lauren Linwood. Get Your Copy Meet the Author Award-winning and internationally bestselling author Alexa Aston lives with her husband in a Dallas suburb, where she eats her fair share of dark chocolate and plots out stories while she walks every morning. She’s a binge fiend (The Crown and Ozark are favorites) who enjoys travel, sports, and time with her family. Her historical romances bring to life loveable rogues and dashing knights, while her contemporary romances are light and flirty and sometimes contain a bit of suspense. Her series include Dukes of Distinction, Soldiers & Soulmates, Lawmen of the West, Hollywood Name Game, The St. Clairs, Knights of Honor, The King's Cousins, The de Wolfes of Esterley Castle, Sagebrush Brides, and Dukes Gone Wrong. Website: alexaaston.com Genre: Romantic Suspense Type: Novel Publication date: March 29, 2021 Content Rating: 4 Hearts: We're getting hot in here! These characters know how to have a good time. Lucky for us, they don't go into too much detail. R (1): Descriptive Sex and Violence View rating system

As accusations of betrayal, deceit, and treason abound, they are all trapped in a web of intrigue and danger, but not everyone will escape. Go to: About the Book | Excerpt | The Author | Limited-Time Giveaway The Tacksman's Daughter Scotland, 1692. To escape a brutal winter storm, King William’s regiments descend on the small village of Glencoe. Caitriona Cameron, the tacksman’s daughter, cannot forget her unpleasant encounter the last time English troops appeared. She senses the army’s arrival might not be as innocent as it seems, but her warnings go unheeded. Not even MacIain, the MacDonald clan chief, listens. After twelve days of billeting in the villagers’ homes, the soldiers attack, committing one of the greatest atrocities in Highland history. Cait escapes the assault with the help of Sergeant Edward Gage who is accused of being a traitor for not taking up arms against the MacDonalds. Edward is hunted by his debauched half-brother, Alexander, who stands to lose everything if King William attaints their father for his treasonous past deeds. With bad blood between them, Alexander sets out to capture Edward to prove his loyalty and save himself from ruin. Cait and Edward travel to Edinburgh to confront the men they suspect are behind the attack, unaware that Alexander is headed there as well. Although Cait is convinced the chief of Clan Campbell is responsible, Edward suspects something much more sinister—that the orders came from higher up, possibly even from the king himself. As accusations of betrayal, deceit, and treason abound, they are all trapped in a web of intrigue and danger, but not everyone will escape. Get your copy ↓ AMAZON | BARNES & NOBLE | APPLE | KOBO Enjoy an Excerpt from The Tacksman's Daughter MEET ALEXANDER, the villain Even though it was better than sleeping outside in the unbearable cold, lying with five other men in a room the size of a breadbasket was not to Alexander’s liking. It had to be the worst room in the manor. Didn’t the laird realize that this was beneath him? He had made it perfectly clear upon their introduction that he was a noble and not some commoner who should be given a tattered wool blanket and a pallet stinking of mouldy straw and cow dung. All night his men had snored and farted, adding to the sour stench that accompanied their unwashed bodies. It was like sleeping in a poorly kept barn. He wouldn’t have even allowed his most incompetent hunting dog to rest there. To make matters worse, he had to start the morning with the knowledge that Edward had somehow managed to meet the fairest of all the Glencoe wenches before him and insert his greedy claws into her. It was the way she’d looked at him with judging eyes while they were in the kitchens, as if he were somehow inferior to that lowly brother of his, that made his chest burn. He couldn’t wait to leave this place and all its savagery. Dalrymple was right. These people needed to be tamed, brought to their knees in submission to His Majesty, King William, and taught the king’s English, for God’s sake. Relieved to be anywhere other than his dismal sleeping quarters, he stood at the window in the laird’s drawing room, staring out at the bare larches dotting the hillside behind the estate, their fallen needles buried under three or four feet of snow. There was something about the sky that promised better weather, though. By noon, the fog had lifted, and the sun struggled through slightly parted clouds high above. Alexander leaned his forehead on the cold windowpane, hopeful that the small break in weather would mean they could resume their march and get on with teaching Glengarry a good lesson on loyalty and fealty. That was his favourite part of being a soldier—drawing the haughtiness out of some desperate scoundrel with his blade stretched across his neck. Of course, Alexander was only a soldier because his father had turned traitor to King William three years earlier and become part of the Jacobite rising. If he hadn’t done that, Father wouldn’t be in the Tower eating scraps left over from the guards, and Alexander wouldn’t have been forced into the military to prove his worthiness to the king. For the moment, the king hadn’t used attainder against Father for his treason, but the threat of it lay imminent. If William chose to attaint the earl, Alexander would lose his titles and lands. All of his inheritance. He would become a commoner. The mere thought of it sent him into a horrible sweat. “There you are.” Edward stood at the threshold to the room, his coat off and the top three buttons of his waistcoat undone. Alexander hated when he appeared so slovenly. He was a soldier, an officer. But then again, he was also a bastard. “Would you care to join us in a game of baggammon, brother?” Edward asked. Alexander rubbed his forehead, still cold from the glass pane. “Another game of baggammon? Sounds thrilling.” Edward crossed his arms, feet spread apart. Alexander hated to admit it, but he recognized himself in that stance. Except when he stood that way, it was more of a challenge, not a question. There was only one thing that could entice him to join the others. Alexander asked, “Have they wine? Not that vile whisky, I hope.” End of Excerpt. The Tacksman's Daughter ©2021 Donna Scott. Shared with permission. Meet the Author / Find Online Donna Scott is an award-winning author of 17th and 18th century historical fiction. Before embarking on a writing career, she spent her time in the world of academia. She earned her BA in English from the University of Miami and her MS and EdD (ABD) from Florida International University. She has two sons and lives in sunny South Florida with her husband. Her first novel, Shame the Devil , received the first place Chaucer Award for historical fiction and a Best Book designation from Chanticleer International Book Reviews. Her newest novel, The London Monster , was released in November 2020. To learn about new releases and special offers, please sign up for Donna’s newsletter. Find the author online ↓ WEBSITE | FACEBOOK | TWITTER | INSTAGRAM | GOODREADS Genre: Historical Fiction Publisher: Atlantic Publishing Release: December 27, 2021 Type: Novel Content Rating: R ( ***Contains some sexual content, assault, and violence***) View our rating system Go to: About the Book | Excerpt | Top of Post Limited-Time Giveaway During the blog tour, there is one copy of The Tacksman’s Daughter up for grabs! To enter, you may leave a comment on this post with your email or use the entry form below to keep your email private. Disclaimer from the author: By entering this giveaway, your email will be added to Donna Scott’s newsletter. If the form below is not visible on your browser, click here to open the link in a new window. Boring Legal Jargon: The giveaway is open to the US only and ends on March 23, 2022. You must be 18 or older to enter/at the time of entry. Void where prohibited by law. This giveaway is sponsored by the author and hosted by Historical Fiction Virtual Book Tours. The winner will be contacted directly by the author or blog tour host and not by Books & Benches. Thank you for visiting and reading! Feel inspired? Want others to experience the book magic? We hope you'll support this author by sharing with your friends. Have you read the book? Let us know your thoughts!

"This is a second chance romance that truly moved my heart." — Contina Reads Designing His Duchess Marry or find herself penniless and ousted from her aunt and uncle’s home. Those are Miss Juliana Drake’s current options. Having never felt the need to know how long she could survive without basic provisions, she chooses the latter. Only she knows as much about charming a suitor as she does about charming a snake. Nothing. The solution? Colin Lewis Francis Latham, Duke of Herstshire. The man who offered her marriage years ago, then vanished without as much as a by your leave. When he returns to London and offers to instruct her in the art of husband hunting, Juliana is both insulted and desperate enough to accept his offer. She’s no longer the gullible young woman of her youth. She can handle being near him without losing her head. Although, it would be much easier if she could finally expel him from her heart. Get your copy ↓ AMAZON | BARNES AND NOBLE | KOBO | IBOOKS Limited-Time Giveaway Enter to win a $20 Amazon Gift Card! The giveaway is open to the US only and ends on March 10th. You must be 18 or older to enter. ENTER THE GIVEAWAY Meet the Author Gabrielle Carr is the author of Regency Romances featuring casts of diverse characters, that are full of heart, hope, and happily ever after. She has always enjoyed indulging in her imagination. At a very young age she had a thirst for reading and the many possibilities it helped bring to life in her mind’s eye. Ms. Carr can normally be found locked away with a good book in her home in Charlotte, NC or traveling the globe to places like India, Bali, Tokyo, or London. Find the author online ↓ WEBSITE | FACEBOOK | GOODREADS Genre: Historical Romance / Regency Type: Novel Publisher: Brown Lady Publishing Series: Regency in Color, book 3 Publication date: January 21, 2022 Content Rating: 4 Hearts View rating system

Do you enjoy a new book as much as we do? We love rereading our favorite books over and over, but there is something about discovering a fabulous new book we can't resist . . . so we won't try. We're delighted to share great reads you'll want to add to your TBR pile. Check out Alexa Aston's first book in her Knights of Redemption series. A Bit of Heaven on Earth A penniless knight who has lost everything dear to him. A married noblewoman who has never known a man’s touch. Two aching souls destined to find one another . . . When Gavin of Ashgrove and his closest friend are captured in a fierce battle during the Hundred Years’ War, their captors demand a hefty ransom from their families for their return. Robert is quickly set free, but Gavin’s father refuses to pay for his son’s release, leaving him to rot in a squalid French prison. Aided by a sympathetic priest, Gavin escapes and returns home to England, only to find he has been proclaimed a bastard and disinherited. With nowhere to turn Gavin journeys to Kentwood, where he fostered as a boy, hoping Lord Aldred will take him on as a knight in his guard. The old warrior is close to death, but Aldred soon realizes Gavin is his son. Aldred plots to have Gavin inherit Kentwood and marry his much younger wife, Elizabeth, a famed and opinionated beauty who remains a virgin after a decade of marriage. Will the king recognize Lord Aldred’s first request of a marriage between Elizabeth and Robert, uniting Robert’s estate with Kentwood—or will the temperamental Edward reward Aldred’s years of service and honor a dying man’s final request? *This is a revised addition of A Bit of Heaven on Earth , which was originally released under the pen name Lauren Linwood. Get Your Copy Meet the Author Award-winning and internationally bestselling author Alexa Aston lives with her husband in a Dallas suburb, where she eats her fair share of dark chocolate and plots out stories while she walks every morning. She’s a binge fiend (The Crown and Ozark are favorites) who enjoys travel, sports, and time with her family. Her historical romances bring to life loveable rogues and dashing knights, while her contemporary romances are light and flirty and sometimes contain a bit of suspense. Her series include Dukes of Distinction, Soldiers & Soulmates, Lawmen of the West, Hollywood Name Game, The St. Clairs, Knights of Honor, The King's Cousins, The de Wolfes of Esterley Castle, Sagebrush Brides, and Dukes Gone Wrong. Website: alexaaston.com Genre: Historical Romance Type: Novel Series: Knights of Redemption Publication date: January 18, 2021 Content Rating: 4 Hearts: We're getting hot in here! These characters know how to have a good time. Lucky for us, they don't go into too much detail. R (1): Descriptive Sex and Violence View rating system

Do you enjoy a new book as much as we do? We love rereading our favorite books over and over, but there is something about discovering a fabulous new book we can't resist . . . so we won't try. We're delighted to share great reads you'll want to add to your TBR pile. Check out Caroline Lee's Not Half Plaid , book 2 of her Bad in Plaid series. Not Half Plaid Fenella Oliphant has always thought it apropos she was named after an herb: Useful, subtle, and not much to look at. But in the Oliphant Castle kitchens none of that matters, because she is the one in command…that is, as long as she can keep from being distracted by the dangerously delicious beast who’s planted his shapely arse beside her hearth and insists on offering unwanted advice. Brodie McClure doesn’t know who he is anymore. He used to be one of His Majesty’s elite Hunters, bodyguard to his laird and damned handsome to boot. But now, he’s scarred and maimed, relegated to peeling carrots in the kitchens, while watching the most tempting little morsel alternate between blushing prettily and snapping commands. It’s not his fault the woman has no idea how to properly season mutton and refuses to listen to his suggestions. So, clearly, it’s up to him to instruct her. Sparks—and eggs!—fly, until a friend offers a solution: A simple contest, using an assigned ingredient, and judged by a panel of three iron-clad stomachs. Fenella and Brodie jump at the opportunity to prove themselves the better chef, but somewhere among the butter, honey and cinnamon, they realize they’re going to have to make a pact to cooperate if they want to get out of this with their hearts—and lower intestines—unscathed! Get Your Copy Meet the Author USA Today bestseller Caroline Lee has been reading romance for so long that her fourth-grade teacher used to make her cover her books with paper jackets. But it wasn't until she (mostly) grew up that she realized she could WRITE it too. So she did. Caroline is living her own little Happily Ever After in NC with her husband, sons, and brand-new daughter, Princess Wiggles. And while she doesn't so much "suffer" from Pittakionophobia as think all you people who enjoy touching Band-Aids and stickers are the real weirdos, she does adore rodents, and never met a wine she didn't like. Caroline was named Time Magazine's Person of the Year in 2006 (just like everyone else) and is really quite funny in person. Promise. www.carolineleeromance.com Genre: Historical Romance Type: Novel Series: Bad in Plaid Publication date: December 30, 2021 Content Rating: 5 Hearts View rating system