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Driven by violence, treachery, and the sea's merciless tides, their fates collide. 'A compelling blend of historical detail and inspired storytelling.' —Tony Riches, author of The Brandon Trilogy . The Fugitive's Sword by Eleanor Swift-Hook Autumn 1624 Europe is deeply embroiled in what will become the Thirty Years' War. A young Philip Lord, once favoured at King James' court, has vanished without a trace, under the shadow of treason. Outside the besieged city of Breda, Captain Matthew Rider faces the brutal reality of wintering his cavalry in the siege lines, until he crosses paths with Filippo Schiavono, a young man whose courage and skill could change everything. Kate, Lady Catherine de Bouqulement, arrives in London prepared to navigate the dangerous politics of King James' court to ensure troops are sent to her mistress, the exiled Queen of Bohemia. Within Breda’s walls, a foundling named Jorrit unwittingly stumbles into a lethal conspiracy when Schiavono hires him, supposedly to help sell smuggled tobacco. But Schiavono’s plans go awry and they are compelled to flee the city, only to be captured at sea. If Schiavono is unable to prove his loyalty and ruthlessness to a savage Dunkirker privateer captain, both he and Jorrit will face certain death. Meanwhile, in London, Kate is forced to fight her own battle against those seeking to coerce her into their schemes and finds herself trapped in a terrifying and deadly power struggle. Driven by violence, treachery, and the sea's merciless tides, their fates collide. Buy the Book: Kindle | Paperback At the time of this posting, this title is in Kindle Unlimited. Enjoy an Excerpt from The Fugitive's Sword  by Eleanor Swift-Hook Inside the besieged city of Breda, November 1624   “Love maketh lean the fat men’s tumour, So doth tobacco. Love still dries up the wanton humour, So doth tobacco.”   Jorrit heard the voice raised lightly in song and scrambled out from his hiding place behind the tavern’s cesspit. The Englishman. If Jorrit was quick enough he might get to him before any of the other boys, as he had on a previous occasion. Then he might hope to earn some pennings. Many pennings indeed. The last time he had helped the Englishman he had been rewarded with a whole dubbeltje. Incentive enough to send Jorrit scurrying.   “Love makes men sail from shore to shore, So doth tobacco. ‘Tis fond love often makes men poor So doth tobacco.”   Having some understanding of English, Jorrit heard the words and knew what the Englishman would be bringing. He was a tobacco smuggler.   Breda had had plenty of time to prepare itself for the siege and was well provisioned with just about everything from ham and cheese to bread and fruit, and there were animals and stocks of grain ready at need. Everyone, even Jorrit, knew they could last until next year easily and no one thought for a moment the Spanish would stay so long as that. It was late November and once the winter really began to bite, they would die like flies and those who were left would desert or withdraw. That was of course if the Stadtholder Maurits, half-brother to Justinus von Nassau who commanded the garrison here, did not before that bring an army in strength and sweep the Spanish into the sea.   Jorrit had heard all this, and he had no reason to doubt it. But he also knew that when the burghers had laid their plans and made provision in their stocks and supplies, they had thought of wine and beer, but no one had considered that they might need a supply of tobacco. He knew because everyone complained about it.   Which was why the Englishman came sneaking into the city. Tobacco here was worth ten times what he might get for it in Amsterdam or Haarlem or even amongst the Spanish outside the walls. The Englishman was just one of the men risking his life to penetrate those Spanish troops and reach the defences where there were many eager to help him inside with his precious cargo. And then he needed boys like Jorrit to help carry the load and distribute his wares.   “Love makes men scorn all coward fears, So doth tobacco. Love often sets men by the ears, So doth tobacco.”   To Jorrit’s delight there were no other boys in sight. But then it was not yet dawn and the only people who were up were those preparing for the working day. If he had not been out early to try and fish, Jorrit himself would have been curled up in his truckle in Moeder Machteld’s attic. As it was, he had not managed to fish at all and had even lost his line and the carefully collected bait. One of the men he had cozened out of five duits the previous day had also been out fishing and, seeing him, had given chase. Which was why Jorrit had concealed himself behind the cesspit in the first place.   If Moeder Machteld knew he had been out thieving again she would box his ears and maybe even throw him out of the house. If he could get honest work with the Englishman, he could bring her the money in good conscience and she would not believe the tales that the fisherman might take to her.   He caught up with the Englishman and then had to half run still to match his broad stride. He was carrying a huge pack, but the weight of it seemed not to slow him at all.   “You need a runner again, sir? I can help you, sir. You will remember I was very useful to you last time. I’m the boy who can speak English.”   The Englishman stopped and looked down at him. Despite himself Jorrit shivered inside. The man’s eyes were as cold as the sea in winter and the turquoise colour of it on a clear day. He wore a sword with a basket hilt and looked as if he would be happy to use it given any excuse. He had hair that was white, but not from age—far from it, he was not at all an old man. In fact, he looked no older than Pieter who’d just turned sixteen and had once been one of Moeder Machteld’s boys but now worked for her, keeping the house in good repair and turning away those who came to the door and were unwelcome. The Englishman was taller than Pieter though, but his shoulders were not so broad nor his chest as deep. He frowned now, as if annoyed that Jorrit had troubled him.   “I know my numbers,” Jorrit said quickly., “I can read and write too.” Moeder Machteld had seen to that as she did for all the boys she took under her roof. She made sure they all went to school at least two or three mornings each week and then made them read to her from their pocket books.   “If I remember, you are called Jorrit,” the Englishman said. “Last time I was here you found out some information for me.”   He had not forgotten.   Jorrit nodded and grinned. It had been easy enough. The Englishman had wanted to know the size and strength of the Spanish and defending forces around the southern gate and needed a sketch of the defences there so he could see if that might offer him a better route into the city. As time went on and the Spanish lines drew ever more tightly, Jorrit knew it was becoming harder for men to sneak in and out and new routes were needed.   “That’s me, sir. Can I help you again today, sir?”   The Englishman was looking at him with a little more interest now.   “I’m not sure, can you?” He hefted the heavy pack on his shoulders then slid it to the ground. “Here, you look strong enough. You can carry this.” End of excerpt. Copyright © Eleanor Swift-Hook Praise for Eleanor Swift-Hook 'Brutal, dark, and brilliant; it kept me gripped from the gruesome opening to the thrilling conclusion.' —Jemahl Evans, author of The Last Roundhead . 'Thrilling and powerful battle scenes, an intriguing conspiracy that runs through the books and a dash of romance – the Lord’s Legacy series has it all’ —Fiona Forsyth, author of the Publius Ovidius mysteries . Meet the Author Eleanor Swift-Hook enjoys the mysteries of history and fell in love with the early Stuart era at university when she re-enacted battles and living history events with the English Civil War Society. Since then, she has had an ongoing fascination with the social, military and political events that unfolded during the Thirty Years’ War and the Wars of the Three Kingdoms. The Soldier's Stand , book two in Lord's Learning and the sequel to The Fugitive's Sword , is now available for preorder  and will be released on 25 February, 2025.   She lives in County Durham and loves writing stories woven into the historical backdrop of those dramatic times. Website: www.eleanorswifthook.com Twitter/X | Facebook | BlueSky | BookBub | Amazon | Goodreads This blog tour was organized by: Book Details Book Title: The Fugitive’s Sword Series: Lord’s Learning, book 1 Author: Eleanor Swift-Hook Publication Date: 8th October 2024 Publisher: Schiavona Books Pages: 305 Genre: Historical Adventure

Christmas in Whitcomb Springs , a new novella in the multi-author Whitcomb Springs series, is now available. High in a mountain valley, a place for those who have loved and lost becomes a home for those who wish to hope and dream. Escape to Whitcomb Springs with tales of adventure, danger, forgiveness, romance, and hope. About Christmas in Whitcomb Springs As snow blankets the mountain town of Whitcomb Springs, Montana, in 1867, a heartwarming story of love, hope, and second chances unfolds when Savannah and Hayes’ paths intertwine with unexpected results. Perhaps this Christmas will bring more than just snow to Whitcomb Springs.   Christmas in Whitcomb Springs is a tale of resilience, second chances, and the transformative power of love that will warm your heart on even the coldest winter nights. This historical romantic Western will remind you of the miracles that can happen when love is rekindled amidst the snowy splendor of Christmas. Available for e-book readers on Kindle (in KU) . Available for paper-loving readers in Paperback and Large Print. Read an Excerpt from Christmas in Whitcomb Springs . Meet the Author MK McClintock is an award-winning author of historical romantic fiction about chivalrous men and strong women who appreciate chivalry. Her stories of romance, mystery, and adventure sweep across the American West to the Victorian British Isles with places and times between and beyond. She also writes contemporary when she's in the mood. MK enjoys a quiet life in the northern Rocky Mountains. You can find her online at www.mkmcclintock.com .​ ••• Her works include the Montana Gallagher, Crooked Creek, British Agent, and Whitcomb Springs series. She has also written A Home for Christmas, a heartwarming collection set in 1800s Montana, Wyoming, and Colorado, and The Case of the Copper King, a romantic and adventurous western mystery set in 1899 Colorado. Christmas in the Rockies by MK McClintock Genre: Historical Romantic Western/Christmas Type: Novella Heat Level: 1 Language Level: 1 Violence Level: 2 Click here to learn more about content ratings.

Looking for heartwarming holiday love stories set in small towns? Join us this holiday season in the majestic Rocky Mountains with a collection of romance stories that will captivate your heart and make you wish for love every day of the year! Christmas in the Rockies Three heartwarming stories. One romantic Christmas escape. "McKensie’s Christmas Gift" When McKensie Scott returns to Wycliffe, Wyoming, she’s uncertain of her future . . . and the man she left behind two summers before. With the help of an unexpected ally, McKensie will discover that sometimes leaving the people you love is the only way to find your path home. "A Snowy Falls Christmas" After five years of searching for answers at her family’s home in Scotland, Maura Coburn returns to Snowy Falls, Colorado, the place she's always called home. When Wyatt Dobbes sweeps into town to take over his family's horse farm, Maura realizes five years might not have been long enough. When unexpected circumstances bring them together, Wyatt and Maura will soon discover the powerful magic of Christmas, love, and second chances. "Christmas in Moose Creek" Saige Travers said goodbye to Owen McGregor sixteen years ago. A spontaneous choice brings Saige home to Moose Creek, Montana, and she doesn’t expect her past to catch up with her present. When Owen walks back into her life, she struggles to remember why she left. Together they discover second chances are real and hope is a cherished gift. Can six willing hearts find a second chance at love? Join us this holiday season and fall in love like it was the first time. Content Warning: These stories feature characters who enjoy baking up delectable desserts and tempting confections filled with Christmas cheer. Enjoy! This book is available in #KindleUnlimited . Also available in Paperback In the author's words . . . Christmas means different things to different people. For me, it's all about the "magic." The magic of love, hope, family, and home. The stories in this collection embody all of the wonder the season conjures in my imagination: lights, garland, trees, the scent of fresh baking in the kitchen, coming home, finding love, giving to others, and of course, second chances. Enjoy Snippets from Christmas in the Rockies Snippet from “McKensie’s Christmas Gift” The fog cleared from McKensie’s brain. “And knowing my aunt, she insisted you have the wedding here.” “Yeah. I thought about moving the location, but Shirley insisted we still have it at the hotel, and Olivia—” “Wouldn’t have wanted you to change a thing. I get it. Yes, you’ll have it here.” McKensie prided herself on handling tense situations, a handy talent when managing a kitchen. She avoided looking at Cameron throughout her conversation with Julie and realized he hadn’t moved, patient as ever. “When is the wedding?” “The week before Christmas.” McKensie raised a brow and studied her friend. “That’s fast.” Julie shrugged. “When it’s right, it’s right. That reminds me, I have one more thing to ask Shirley about the food. Meet you in the foyer in ten, big brother.” She stopped at the door and pointed to McKensie. “I will call you tomorrow. We have so much to catch up on.” Julie exited the office with as much excitement as she entered. McKensie replayed some of her last words over in her mind. When it’s right, it’s right. Snippet from “A Snowy Falls Christmas” Her breath faded into the crisp morning air. The stoneware mug cupped in her hands warmed her skin while the lavender tea blend stole away the frigid cold from within. She stood on the expansive deck overlooking the glistening waters of Winter Lake and contemplated her quiet return home. The Snowy Falls Lodge stood tall and grand behind her, a landmark on the lake and in the quaint mountain village. Her grandmother would have said, “For better or worse, it is now yours, Maura.” Maura spent the first twenty-five years of her life in the spacious rooms and luxurious halls of the lodge that blended the design of a Scottish castle and Victorian cattle ranch. The idea might have resulted in a haphazard structure had it not been for a truly talented, though little-known, Scottish architect named Charles Mackenzie. Five years ago, Maura did what no one ever expected—she left home—and not because she didn’t love the lodge or the village. Her father called her a dreamer. Her mother used the word “wanderer,” and her grandmother often said she was a seeker. Maura appreciated her grandmother’s description best. What exactly Maura sought when she left Snowy Falls remained a mystery to everyone. Snippet from “Christmas in Moose Creek” The 4x4 careened to a stop and the driver waited in disbelief at the deplorable timing of Mother Nature. Moose Creek, Montana, had its share of wildlife—bear, deer, elk, mountain lions—but in her thirty-three years, Saige Travers had never seen a moose on this mountain. Until today. No one waited for her in her swank two-bedroom condo in Seattle except the goldfish her brother gave to her as a joke for her birthday. She’d needed a break from the city and the cataclysmic string of end-of-the-road relationships she’d been in the past five years. More like dates, if she was going to be honest with herself. Saige Travers didn’t have time for relationships. Excerpts © MK McClintock Learn more by visiting the author's website. "Your books are filled with such wonderful characters, families, and love. I know I have read this story before, but I enjoyed it just as much this time as I had the first time. Waiting patiently for your next new book." — M.L. Sullivan "These holiday romance captivated me and will surely grab your attention! I highly recommend them to anyone who believe in Christmas magic and second chances!" — Nicole Laverdure "These three stories made Christmas special for my wife and I this year. We live in the Rockies, and the stories felt very real to us. Beautifully told." — Darrel M., Amazon Review "I loved all three of the stories in this book. On a cold, rainy day, I enjoyed the lights of the Christmas tree, and forgetting the dismal view outside, I was carried away to three places in the Rockies for a beautiful Christmas setting, where i met strong characters and three charming stories of love renewed." — Verna Cole Mitchell, author and poet Meet the Author MK McClintock is an award-winning author of historical romantic fiction about chivalrous men and strong women who appreciate chivalry. Her stories of romance, mystery, and adventure sweep across the American West to the Victorian British Isles with places and times between and beyond. She also writes contemporary when she's in the mood. MK enjoys a quiet life in the northern Rocky Mountains. You can find her online at www.mkmcclintock.com .​ ••• Her works include the Montana Gallagher, Crooked Creek, British Agent, and Whitcomb Springs series. She has also written A Home for Christmas, a heartwarming collection set in 1800s Montana, Wyoming, and Colorado, and The Case of the Copper King, a romantic and adventurous western mystery set in 1899 Colorado. She is always writing her next book. Christmas in the Rockies by MK McClintock (This book was previously published under the pen name McKenna Grey with the same cover.) Genre: Contemporary Romance/Christmas Type: Collection of Novelettes Heat Level: 1 Language Level: 1 Violence Level: 1 Click here to learn more about content ratings.

A historical coming of age saga of teenage girl's courage and triumph. Let Charlotte's story in Downriver by Jennifer M. Lane be a reminder that no darkness is too deep, no tyranny too strong, when fueled by the relentless pursuit of justice. Downriver by Jennifer M. Lane A sulfur sky poisoned her family and her heart. Now revenge tastes sweeter than justice. It’s 1900. In a Pennsylvania coal town tainted by corruption and pollution, Charlotte's world collapses when her parents meet a tragic end. Sent to a foster family in a Maryland fishing village, she’s fueled by grief and embarks on a relentless quest for justice against the ruthless coal boss, Nels Pritchard. But Charlotte is no ordinary girl. She shares the fiery spirit of her father, whose powerful speeches inspired worker riots. With a burning desire for vengeance, she sets out to uncover the truth behind Pritchard's crimes, unearthing a shocking connection between the town's toxic air and the lifeless fish washing up on the shore of her Chesapeake Bay foster town. To expose the truth, Charlotte builds a network of unexpected allies. There are gutsy suffragists, a literary society of teenage girls willing to print the truth… and Weylan. The captivating young man lost his own family to Pritchard’s poison. He offers support, but Charlotte questions his true motives when he lures her to break the law. Could she be falling into a dangerous trap, leading her to a fate worse than poison? With her unwavering spirit and determination, Charlotte must forge alliances and navigate a web of treachery before Pritchard seeks his own ruthless revenge. Join Charlotte in this small town, coming-of-age dystopian historical saga as she finds resilience, courage, and triumph in her search for identity, independence, and her true home. Buy the Book: Kindle | Paperback Bookshop | Barnes & Noble | Books-A-Million At the time of this posting, this title is in Kindle Unlimited. " Downriver by Jennifer M. Lane is a captivating and profound reading experience, skillfully blending emotion and suspense to create a memorable story." — The Historical Fiction Company Enjoy an Excerpt from Downriver by Jennifer M. Lane I spend a fitful night tangled in my sheets. In the morning, I gather the stories the literary society has collected and written, and I pack them into the bottom of a fruit basket. I cover them with apricots in case I’m stopped along the way. Then I dress in a dark skirt and a shirt and, slip in the morning light.   With my eyes peeled for anyone who might see me, I traipse through the tree line along the side of the newspaper building with my skirt hiked over my shoes to keep the burrs from sticking to my hem. Then I knock on the back door like Weylan told me to. Three quick raps. A pause. Two more.   The door flies open so fast, he must have been standing next to it waiting for me. He pulls me into the darkness, and into a short hall. There are rooms on either side, their doors open at odd angles, and the sunlight streaming in the roofline windows makes triangles on the floor. He motions for me to follow him down the hall. “Did anyone see you?”   “No.” I pull the pages from the bottom of the basket as I follow him down the hall. “How long do you think it will take?”   “No idea.”   A room this large should feel emptier than it does. Chairs and stools are scattered around with no rhyme or reason, pushed out of the path of the last people who worked here. Counters run along two walls. All sorts of letter trays and boxes of letters clutter the place. It smells like damp concrete. Like rocks and old wood.   This isn’t his first time here in the daylight. I can tell by how easily he moves, pushing letter cases around on the counter. I spread the pages out in order, and he hands me a little metal tray with a locking slide on one end.   “It’s a composing stick,” he says. “This lever sets the column width. We’ll line the letters up in this tray, here. You put them in upside down.”   “That’s a relief,” I say. “Much easier than backwards.”   “It still takes time, but at least we can work together. We can work on separate stories and piece them together when we’re done.”   It’s too finicky a task for much talking, and our silence is easy at first, comfortable and warm, but questions worm into the quiet, and I can’t resist indulging them.   “You don’t trust me?” I ask.   “I do now. Generally, I don’t trust anyone.”   “I’m honored then.”   “Is this like what your father did in Stoke?” he asks.   “No, not at all. He gave speeches.”   “He worked with coal?”   “Not his whole life, but yes.” The words fall out of me easily. “When my parents were young, it was a small village. A few houses, mostly farms. A chapel. Then someone found coal, and people sold off their farms in pieces. Their sons started working there, like my father. They liked the company store and all it promised, but they traded their lives for a pittance. Didn’t realize they were selling their souls until it was too late.”   “What do you miss the most?” he asks.                         “My life,” I say with a snort. “The little things, honestly. It was a beautiful place to live, but I miss the tall clock in the sitting room. The sound of people walking on the porch. How the front door slammed. The smell of the kitchen. I miss the woods around us, because I knew every tree. And I miss my father’s pen.”   “His pen?” Weylan almost laughs.   “It’s silly. I know. It wasn’t silver or anything fancy. Just carved wood.   “What happened to it?” He lifts a full block of text and places it on the galley tray.   “Lost when we moved. The bank said it all had to be sold, everything but our clothes. It belongs to someone else now. It’s my turn. Can I ask you something?”   “Of course,” he says.   “Did you ever look into the fish? Were you ever so angry you wanted to know why they made people sick?”   He raises a shoulder. “The truth belongs to powerful people like Whitaker. It’s easier to let them have it.”   “You can’t honestly believe that.” I pluck a comma from a tray and place it at the end of line. It makes a satisfying click as I press it into place. “That doesn’t sound like you at all. Besides, that’s a reality they’re shaping, not the truth.”   Weylan says nothing for so long that I think I’ve offended him. He works with his head down, finishing a line and topping it with a lead slug. He feels far away.   “All of these people told their stories,” I say. “They—”   “I’m not telling mine.” His voice isn’t rough but it’s definitive.   “No, I suspect if you wanted to, you would have by now. I just mean that putting it into words can be good.”   “I’m sure that’s true,” he says. “But once you put it out there, people can do what they want with it. They can twist it. Change it. Call you a liar. I prefer cold facts.”   Facts. Another thing we have in common. I would chase them to the end of the earth. “That’s fair.   The silence falls on us again, and I’m torn between apologizing and not being sorry at all.   “I didn’t mean to push,” I say. That much is true. This strange club we belong to doesn’t mean we feel the same, and that’s fine. He doesn’t need or want my apology; I can tell by his smile. No offense meant, none taken.   “I’m afraid,” he says.   “Afraid of this? Of what they’ll do if they find out it was us?”   “No. Of the truth.” He places a full block of letters on the galley and starts over. “Because once you know the truth, you might feel even more powerless. I want to build my own life, my own future. Not have it taken from me or dictated. I can’t do that if it all feels pointless.”   “So what made you want to help us, then?” I ask with a great deal of hesitation. “If you don’t want to know the truth—”   He turns to face me, his elbow on the counter, inspecting his thumb. The lead makes our fingers gray and metallic, as if we’ve been mining for something precious.   “I offered because I met someone who wasn’t afraid of the truth. Someone who went looking for it. And I want to know her more.”   My breath catches in my throat. He makes an odd sort of melancholy wince, like he’s choking back a disappointment, and I don’t know if it’s with himself or with me, but I do know this is the best and worst thing I could have heard because every moment I’m with Weylan feels less lonely. It feels like action, like my heart has momentum, and revenge eats at me less since I met him. It’s direction and hope, all mashed together, and the lightness I feel with him I can only describe as relief and whatever the opposite of alone is. Since I met Weylan, my life has a purpose even more salient than the acid cloud of vengeance that’s hung over me, and not only is it distracting, it’s the kind of thing I could get used to. I could come to crave being with him. But that means I’d have something to risk losing, and I’m never going to let myself lose another thing again. End of excerpt. Copyright © Jennifer M. Lane Meet the Author A Maryland native and Pennsylvanian at heart, Jennifer M. Lane holds a bachelor’s degree in philosophy from Barton College and a master’s in liberal arts with a focus on museum studies from the University of Delaware, where she wrote her thesis on the material culture of roadside memorials.   Jennifer is a member of the Authors Guild and the Historical Novel Society. Her first book, Of Metal and Earth , won the 2019 Next Generation Indie Book Award for First Novel and was a Finalist in the 2018 IAN Book of the Year Awards in the category of Literary / General Fiction. She is also the author of Stick Figures from Rockport , and the six book series, The Collected Stories of Ramsbolt . Website: www.jennifermlanewrites.com   Twitter/X | Facebook | Instagram | BookBub | Amazon | Goodreads This blog tour was organized by: Book Details Book Title: Downriver Series: The Poison River Series (Book 1) Author: Jennifer M. Lane Publication Date: May 28, 2024 Publisher: Pen & Key Publishing Pages: 344 Genre: Historical Any Triggers: Death, Violence

Prepare to be transported to Italy, where whispers linger in the air and mysteries lurk around every corner. The sun sets over a picturesque town, casting long shadows that hide forbidden truths, stolen treasures, and the danger of betrayal. Welcome to a story of "shrouded mystery, caught up in a whirlwind of intrigue, theft, lies, and attempted murder." About Trouble in Assisi by Heidi Eljarbo Assisi, 1973. On art historian Fabiola Bennett’s first day in Assisi, a local gentleman takes her aside to ask for advice about a painting that has wondrously appeared in the basilica’s bell tower. So much for enjoying relaxing days filled with dining on pasta and gelato.   Soon, Fabiola and her besties, Pippa and Cary, are thrown into a shrouded mystery and caught up in a whirlwind of intrigue, theft, lies, and attempted murder, all of which overshadows the postcard-like charm of the small, historic town.   Rome, 1511. Life is going well for Teodoro Nicoletti. Since he was a young man in Florence, he has worked and learned alongside the most-favored artist Raphael.   When Pope Julius II commissions Raphael to paint several frescos in the reception rooms of the Vatican Palace, Teodoro follows his master to Rome and discovers firsthand the admiration and rivalry between Raphael and two other reigning artists: Michelangelo and Leonardo da Vinci.   But the prickliest thorn in Teodoro’s side is his beloved Elisabetta’s father. The old man is determined to keep his youngest daughter from becoming Teodoro’s wife. Buy the Book This title is available to read on Kindle Unlimited. Kindle | Paperback Check out the Fabiola Bennet Mystery series! Meet Author Heidi Elbarjo Heidi Eljarbo is the award-winning author of dual-timeline historical fiction with heartwarming clean romance, wit, and adventurous mystery. Heidi grew up in a home filled with books and artwork and never imagined she would do anything other than write and paint. She studied art, languages, and history, danced on the BYU Ballroom Dance Team, and still sings in choirs. 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, and fifteen 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 Heidi’s newsletter ! Connect with Heidi Website  • Twitter  • Facebook  • Instagram  • Pinterest BookBub  • Amazon Author Page  • Goodreads Book Title: Trouble in Assisi Series: A Fabiola Bennett Mystery Author: Heidi Eljarbo Publication Date: 28th May 2024 Publisher: Independently published Pages: ~ 225 pages Genre: Historical Mystery / Dual Timeline Mystery

Ah, the Allure of Historical Western Romance Novels Historical western romance novels transport readers to a bygone era where rugged cowboys and spirited women roamed the untamed frontier. These captivating tales offer an enchanting blend of adventure, romance, and the allure of a simpler time. Escape into a Nostalgic World Historical western romances provide a nostalgic escape from the hustle and bustle of modern life. Readers can immerse themselves in a world where the pace is slower, the landscapes are vast, and the values of honor and loyalty reign supreme. The novels evoke a sense of longing for a time when life was lived closer to nature and human connections were more genuine. Strong and Independent Heroines Western romance novels feature strong and independent heroines who defy societal expectations. These women are not damsels in distress but capable and resourceful pioneers who navigate the challenges of the frontier with courage and determination. Their resilience and spirit inspire readers to embrace their own strength and independence. Rugged and Romantic Cowboys The heroes of western romances are often rugged and romantic cowboys who embody the spirit of the Old West. They are strong, brave, and protective, yet they also possess a tender side that makes them irresistible to readers. Their unwavering loyalty and willingness to sacrifice for their loved ones create a sense of security and longing in the hearts of readers. Epic Love Stories At the heart of every historical western romance is an epic love story that transcends time and circumstance. The protagonists face countless obstacles, from warring tribes to harsh weather, but their love for each other endures. These stories celebrate the power of human connection and the transformative nature of love. Ready to fall in love with Old West heroes? Check out western romance books here ! Images in this post are from Unsplash.

Are you a fan of curling up with a thrilling murder mystery that keeps you guessing? If so, don't miss Murder on West Main by I. M. Foster! A breeze blew up from the water, causing her to shiver, so he took his jacket off to place it over her shoulders. About Murder on West Main by I.M. Foster When Colin Brissedon arrives at work one summer morning to find his new boss murdered, all eyes turn to him. After all, the man had threatened to fire him just a few days before, and his colleagues are more than happy to tell the tale. Kathleen admits her brother is no angel, but she can’t believe he would sink this low. Fortunately for them, neither does Daniel O’Halleran, the village’s new coroner’s assistant. Of course, he needs more than his gut feeling to prove it. But that’s not going to be an easy task, considering the victim does not appear to have been held in high regard. In fact, Daniel is hard-pressed to find anyone who did like him, though there are more than a few who had reason to wish the man dead. To make matters worse, Kathleen is intent on conducting her own investigation despite his wishes, and he fears the consequences could be deadly. And yet, with the pieces of the puzzle laid before him, he can’t shake the feeling that something is missing, an integral clue that will tie everything else together. Will Daniel be able to find the elusive detail and discover the reason behind the gruesome murder of the prominent attorney? Or will the guilty party live to kill again? Buy the Book This title is available to read on Kindle Unlimited Universal Buy Link Meet I.M. Foster I. M. Foster is the pen name author Inez Foster uses to write her South Shore Mystery series, set on Edwardian Long Island. Inez also writes historical romances under the pseudonym Andrea Matthews, and has so far published two series in that genre: the Thunder on the Moor series, a time-travel romance set on the 16th century Anglo-Scottish Borders, and the Cross of Ciaran series, which follows the adventures of a fifth century Celt who finds himself in love with a twentieth century archaeologist. Inez is a historian and librarian, who love to read and write and search around for her roots, genealogically speaking. She has a BA in History and an MLS in Library Science and enjoys the research almost as much as she does writing the story. In fact, many of her ideas come to her while doing casual research or digging into her family history. Inez is a member of the Long Island Romance Writers, and the Historical Novel Society. Website:  www.imfostermysteries.com   Connect/Follow Online Twitter:   twitter.com/IMFosterMystery   Facebook:  facebook.com/IMFosterMysteries Instagram:  instagram.com/imfosterauthor   Book Bub:   bookbub.com/profile/i-m-foster   Amazon Author Page:  amazon.com/stores/I-M-Foster/author/BQBFQK8854 Goodreads: goodreads.com/author/show/22926746.I_M_Foster    Book Title: Murder on West Main Series: A South Shore Mystery Author: I. M. Foster Publication Date: December 20th, 2023 Pages: 368

Climb aboard! Don't miss the heart-pounding climax of the Ghosts Along the Oregon Trail series. Rolling Home is the final installment. Rolling Home by David Fitz-Gerald In the heart of the rolling village, dissent brews as the stubbornest naysayer refuses to continue the journey. With an ominous early snowfall and memories of the ill-fated Donner Party haunting the pioneers, Dorcas Moon faces a new wave of challenges. Just when she believes things can't get worse, a disastrous river crossing claims their wagon and submerges their belongings. As the rolling village approaches the final leg of the journey, the looming threat of outlaws intensifies. The notorious bandit known as The Viper and his ruthless brothers are determined to rob the greenhorns, sell their stock, and kill every last one of them. The pioneers had heard tales of their brutality, but now, with Dorcas' daughter kidnapped and Dorcas captured, everyone is in danger. What will become of Dorcas Moon, her family, and their friends? Will anyone survive the perilous journey? Rejoin the expedition and witness the thrilling end to a gripping saga. ••• This title is available to read on Kindle Unlimited. Kindle | Paperback ••• Discover the Rest of the Series ••• Meet the Author David Fitz-Gerald writes westerns and historical fiction. He is the author of twelve books, including the brand-new series, Ghosts Along the Oregon Trail set in 1850. Dave is a multiple Laramie Award, first place, best in category winner; a Blue Ribbon Chanticleerian; a member of Western Writers of America; and a member of the Historical Novel Society. Alpine landscapes and flashy horses always catch Dave’s eye and turn his head. He is also an Adirondack 46-er, which means that he has hiked to the summit of the range’s highest peaks. As a mountaineer, he’s happiest at an elevation of over four thousand feet above sea level. Dave is a lifelong fan of western fiction, landscapes, movies, and music. It should be no surprise that Dave delights in placing memorable characters on treacherous trails, mountain tops, and on the backs of wild horses. Website | BookBub | Amazon | Goodreads   Twitter | Facebook | Instagram | Pinterest | Linktree Book Title: Rolling Home Series: Ghosts Along the Oregon Trail (book 5) Author: David Fitz-Gerald Publication Date: June 15, 2024 Publisher: David Fitz-Gerald Pages: 254 Genre: Western, Historical Fiction

The Trail to Crooked Creek , a new romantic and adventurous novella in the Crooked Creek series is now here to fill your hours (and e-readers) with joy. It's also available in print for those who like to hold paper. Join me, Leah Tennyson, and Wesley Davenport on a journey of strength, selflessness, and the profound impact of love. For devoted e-readers: Amazon Kindle   (in KU) For the paper people: Paperback Large Print About The Trail to Crooked Creek Everyday heroes who find the courage to believe in extraordinary love.   Two years after the devastations of war left their mark on a country torn apart, Wesley Davenport, a former soldier haunted by his experiences on the battlefield crosses paths with Leah Tennyson, a teacher who helps him heal his emotional wounds—and discovers unexpected love in the most unlikely place.   The Trail to Crooked Creek  is a novella set in the breathtaking and sometimes unforgiving landscape of post-Civil War Montana Territory. "I have adored this series and this one does not disappoint. It was great travelling back to Crooked Creek, Montana and meeting up with Wesley and Leah. I thought it was a beautiful story of overcoming, inspiration, romance, and joy. I loved it." ~Amy Campbell (BookBub Review) on The Trail to Crooked Creek A note . . . I knew in my heart that I was not ready to say farewell to my people in Crooked Creek, and even now this won't be the final story in the series. Wesley and Leah became so much more than I anticipated, and their adventures ended quite differently than I had planned. They are both, in a word, beautiful. Beautiful souls and beautiful hearts, albeit a bit bruised and in need of direction to overcome their own tragic pasts. May you always have a fire to warm your body, a book to warm your mind, hope to warm your soul, and love to warm your heart. I hope you enjoy the book. — MK McClintock About the Crooked Creek Series "MK McClintock knows what readers want." ~ Readers' Favorite ​ Set in post-Civil War Montana Territory, in the small town of Crooked Creek, it all started with Emma. Her story was written for a contest, but I soon realized there were more women whose tales needed to be written. The war is over between the North and the South, but the battles at home are just beginning. If you love stories of bravery and courage with unforgettable women and the men they love, you'll enjoy the Women of Crooked Creek.  ​ The first four stories are available in The Women of Crooked Creek collection. Author MK McClintock MK McClintock is an award-winning author of historical romantic fiction about chivalrous men and strong women who appreciate chivalry. Her stories of romance, mystery, and adventure sweep across the American West to the Victorian British Isles with places and times between and beyond.    MK enjoys a quiet life in the northern Rocky Mountains. Visit mkmcclintock.com to learn more about her books, browse her blog, and subscribe to receive news and posts.  Website | Amazon | BookBub Instagram | Youtube | Facebook | Pinterest

Forbidden love in a country in turmoil . . . What a way to draw the reader in! Escape to the Bordeaux countryside during the reign of Napoleon III with unexpected twists, romance, and historical intrigue. Michèle Callard shares a glimpse into The Sand Vines with an excerpt from the book. Read on and enjoy! "Callard's ability to paint a world with her words brings the story alive. I loved it."– Amazon Review About The Sand Vines by Michèle Callard Bordeaux 1870 – Life is hard on the moor. If Flore, a shepherd’s daughter, is not married by autumn, she must go into service and lose everything she holds dear. Back form the French army, the dashing Ricar has set her heart and body on fire. Will he propose to her before it is too late? Martial the viscount’s son adores Flore from afar. Aware that she can never be his. When a betrayal and a forest fire put Flore in danger, Martial seizes his chance, grabs her hand and takes her to safety far away in the north of France, hoping they might start afresh, but war looms. . . Will it bring them together or tear them apart? Buy the Book The Sand Vines Enjoy an Excerpt from The Sand Vines by Michèle Callard Notre-Dame de Paris Just below her, corseted inside brand-new quays, the wide ribbon of the Seine flowed west, carrying trains of barges. Snug inside its wall, a stylish, elegant Paris was rising from mud, scaffolding and rubble. It was not at all what Flore had expected. No wonder Martial’s brother had fallen in love with it. He had money. Paris was a courtesan, a grande cocotte, fun only for those who could afford her. Beguiling, expensive, Paris put on airs, while at her heart lurked a core of poverty and shame. After a long time, Flore turned to Minnie. ‘What’s it like where you come from?’ Minnie did not answer at first, focussed on a large expanse of green to the right of the river. ‘See those two grand buildings down there? They are the Louvre and the Tuileries Palace, where the emperor lives. A lot of people hate him. They want a republic, as we have in America. He won’t last much longer.’ Serious, her gaze now bore into Flore. ‘Let me tell you something. When he goes, I won’t want to be around.’ Her chin in her hands, she leaned against the parapet. ‘I come from New York. It’s just like Paris. How about you?’ ‘My country is marshy and wild, but to me it has everything, woods, rivers, the ocean.’ Flore’s voice trailed. Would she ever see it again? ‘They’re planting pines all over it now. Soon it will be the biggest forest in the world.’ ‘What’s wrong with pines?’ ‘You can’t eat them.’ Minnie pointed south. ‘Over there is the entrance to the catacombs, the first stop in my ghoulish tour of Paris. Underground caves full of bones and skulls. You visit them by candlelight. Americans love it.’ ‘Bones?’ ‘Uh-huh. You can also visit the sewers, ride over them in a little cart. It’s a bit smelly, but it’s fun.’ She hugged herself. ‘Brrr, it’s windy up here. Come on, let’s go down.’ Skulls? Sewers? Flore wondered as she crossed the wide space where Quasimodo had yearned for Esmeralda. Fun? She caught up with Minnie at the bottom of the steps. ‘The catacombs, is that where you’re taking me?’ ‘Not today. Our next stop’s right here.’ Minnie halted in front of an imposing stone building just behind the cathedral. ‘We’re in luck—there’s no queue today. You would not believe the queues normally. They go on for miles.’ They joined a line of working women in aprons and bourgeoises in crinolines herding their broods into a wide corridor and shuffled forward, following the sound of water. An aquarium! They were all the rage. Flore had seen them in almanacs and could not wait to see the fish. Step by step, they chatted until they came to a large marble space with a floor-to-ceiling expanse of glass to one side. Flore halted, suddenly very cold. This was no aquarium. End of Excerpt ©Michèle Callard. Meet Michèle Callard Michèle Callard grew up in France. A country girl at heart, she swapped her Paris flat for a cottage in rural England where she lives with her Irish husband and the youngest of her three sons. She writes fast-paced novels set in different regions of France, bursting with authentic characters, colours, flavours, and history. Visit her online at michelecallard.com . Follow/Find the Author Online Website: michelecallard.com Facebook: facebook.com/michelecallardauthor Instagram: instagram.com/michele.oconnell.44 Threads: threads.net/@michele.oconnell.44 Pinterest: pinterest.co.uk/oconnellofsalford Book Bub: bookbub.com/profile/michele-callard Amazon Author Page: amazon.com/stores/Michèle-CALLARD/author/B09WRT58ZT Goodreads: goodreads.com/author/show/22320819.Mich_le_Callard Book Details Book Title: The Sand Vines Series: The Vine Saga, Book 1 Author: Michèle CALLARD Publication Date: 01 May 2024 Publisher: Millefeuille Press Page Length: 400 Genre: Historical fiction Like what you've read? We hope you'll share the bookish joy with others! Thank you for visiting Books & Benches and supporting the authors.

Delve into a tumultuous and pivotal era in American history with Richard Buxton's Shire's Union Trilogy. The author generously shares an excerpt from book two of the trilogy, The Copper Road . " Whirligig is a magnificent novel, epic in scale!"– Gill Thompson, Author of 'The Child on Platform One.' About Whirligig by Richard Buxton Shire leaves his home and his life in Victorian England for the sake of a childhood promise, a promise that pulls him into the bleeding heart of the American Civil War. Lost in the bloody battlefields of the West, he discovers a second home for his loyalty. Clara believes she has escaped from a predictable future of obligation and privilege, but her new life in the Appalachian Hills of Tennessee is decaying around her. In the mansion of Comrie, long hidden secrets are being slowly exhumed by a war that creeps ever closer. The Shire’s Union  trilogy is at once an outsider’s odyssey through the battle for Tennessee, a touching story of impossible love, and a portrait of America at war with itself. Self-interest and conflict, betrayal and passion, all fuse into a fateful climax. Written by award winning author Richard Buxton, the Shire’s Union trilogy begins with Whirligig , is continued in The Copper Road , and concludes with Tigers in Blue . Buy the Books Whirligig | The Copper Road | Tigers in Blue Don't miss the rest of the Shire's Union trilogy 'Highly recommended for readers who feel all the great war stories have already been written.' —Historical Novel Society Enjoy an Excerpt from The Copper Road by Richard Buxton Comrie – February 1864 It was a poor day for grave digging. The ground was frozen after two clear nights. Shire could feel the topology of the smallest ridge or runnel through his boots. He stamped his feet on the hard ground but failed to generate any warmth, just a fizzy numbness that slowly dissolved to leave them achingly cold. Clara stood beside him, made all the paler by the low gray sky that had eased over the hills as they’d climbed up here at first light. Why was she doing this? What purpose could it possibly serve? She made no entreaty to warmth other than to work each ungloved hand tightly over the other. She’d been doing that more and more as the week had gone on, inside or out. She wore only a gray shawl over a black dress while she watched the gravediggers at work. He thought to take off his army coat and wrap her, play the chivalrous soldier, but any approach he’d made this morning had been ignored or curtly dealt with. Best to leave her be. She’d ridden off yesterday, late in the afternoon. No one knew where she was going. She’d refused to wait for Shire to get a horse tacked up to go with her. It was after dark when she’d returned and Mitilde had ragged on her like she was a truant child and steered her to the fire in the den. After she’d made Clara eat, Mitilde had laid into Shire. ‘You so lame that you can’t stop this girl from ridin’ off? What you here for if not to mind her?’ It was useless to tell Mitilde that it had never been that way. Clara had picked at her food and calmly told them that men would arrive early in the morning. A father and son she’d found in Ocoee who would come up and move the body since everyone here refused to do it. Mitilde had looked horrified and clutched at the doorframe. When she’d steadied herself, she said, ‘I’ll tell Moses to be ready.’ Then she left. ‘We won’t need Moses,’ Clara had called after. Now, before Shire in the cold morning, the father and son chipped away at the frozen ground, the wiry older man doing most of the work. He talked all the while. ‘Miss, I’d be obliged if you would leave us to it. Or at least let this boy walk you away while we get the leavings out. It ain’t a sight a lady should see, and there’s no casket you say.’ Clara gave no sign of having heard a word. Shire assumed he was the boy referred to, as Moses – usually an ‘old boy’ - was back in the trees gathering dead branches. There were a few other graves up here on account of this boy, he thought. The crosspiece had fallen from the crude grave-marker sometime during the winter, so all that identified the grave was a broken chair leg taken from one of the two long huts nearby. Lined up next to it were five unmarked low mounds, waiting on their first spring to gain so much as a blade of grass. The gravediggers decided to take a different tack. They asked where they could find water to soften the ground. It was a long way back down to the house, too far to make it practicable, but Clara and Shire didn’t know where the water was up here. They all walked over to Moses who’d emerged from the woods and was busy dragging what dry wood he’d found up to the walls of the huts. He pointed the men to a trickle-creek that hatched somewhere in the pass above and they went to find it. Moses had been ready and waiting first thing in the yard at Comrie. He hadn’t asked if they needed help but just slotted in behind Clara as they started up the long steep path to the grave. It was slow going as the gravediggers had to manhandle the pine casket along the narrow path. Moses had been agitated. He chivvied along close behind Clara and tried to persuade her no good would come of this. Clara had ignored him until he got so worked up he jumped in front and stood in her path. Shire bunched up behind. Clara took a moment to catch her breath. ‘Go home, Moses, you don’t have to watch this.’ ‘Then let me move him, not these folks.’ ‘I wouldn’t ask that. You don’t owe him any loyalty.’ ‘I ain’t sayin’ I do.’ ‘Go then.’ Moses stood his ground. ‘Guess I’ll come witness.’ ‘Alright. Maybe it’s time to burn the huts too. You could do that.’ Now Moses sullenly prepared for the fire while the gravediggers poured pail after pail over the grave until the three-inch frost was softened enough for them to take up their shovels again. The minutes played out. Thinking of words that might offer comfort or distraction was beyond Shire. It wasn’t a deep grave. The diggers were surprised to hit metal. By degree they unearthed a thick link of chain and the father decided it was easier to pull on it than to dig it out. Shire turned to Clara. ‘There’s nothing to be gained by watching this.’ She struck away his hand and stepped past him; spoke through clenched teeth while staring toward the grave. ‘Nothing for you perhaps, but I will look on him and see he is rotted and gone.’ Several feet of chain came away easily but then it pulled taut and would only give up a stubborn link at a time. The boy stepped over and gripped the chain like his father and leaned his weight away from the grave. The ground stirred and finally gave way. Both arms, half-rotted but with enough sinew to hold the yellow bones in place, lifted from the ground like a sinner’s first earnest prayer to God. End of Excerpt ©Richard Buxton. 'A compelling historical saga packed with unforgettable characters. A FINALIST and highly recommended!' — The Wishing Shelf Book Awards Meet Richard Buxton Richard lives with his family in the South Downs, Sussex, England. He completed an MA in Creative Writing at Chichester University in 2014. He has an abiding relationship with America, having studied at Syracuse University, New York State, in the late eighties. He travels extensively for research, especially in Tennessee, Georgia and Ohio, and is rarely happier than when setting off from a motel to spend the day wandering a battlefield or imagining the past close beside the churning wheel of a paddle steamer. Richard’s short stories have won the Exeter Story Prize, the Bedford International Writing Competition and the Nivalis Short Story Award. His first novel, Whirligig (2017) was shortlisted for the Rubery International Book Award. It was followed by The Copper Road (2020) and the Shire’s Union trilogy was completed by Tigers in Blue (2023). To learn more about Richard’s writing visit www.richardbuxton.net . Follow/Find the Author Online Website: www.richardbuxton.net/ Twitter: twitter.com/RichardBuxton65 Facebook: facebook.com/ShiresUnion Instagram: instagram.com/richardbuxton63 Book Bub: bookbub.com/profile/richard-buxton Amazon Author Page: amazon.co.uk/stores/author/B06XV3FYQF/about Goodreads: goodreads.com/author/show/16673953.Richard_Buxton Click to View Book Details Book Title: Trilogy consisting of: Whirligig (Book 1) The Copper Road  (Book 2) Tigers in Blue  (Book 3) Series: Shire’s Union Author: Richard Buxton Publication Date: WG = 22/3/2017 TCR = 26/7/2020 TIB = 8/12/2023 Publisher: Ocoee Publishing Genre: Historical Fiction Like what you've read? We hope you'll share the bookish joy with others! Thank you for visiting Books & Benches and supporting the authors.

Escapism and Relaxation: Fiction provides an escape from the mundane and stressful realities of life. By immersing oneself in a captivating story, readers can temporarily forget their worries and enter a realm of imagination and adventure. The act of reading can also be a relaxing and calming activity, reducing stress levels and promoting a sense of well-being. Emotional Catharsis: Fiction allows readers to experience a wide range of emotions through the characters and events in the story. By witnessing the triumphs and tribulations of others, readers can process their own emotions and gain a deeper understanding of the human condition. This emotional catharsis can be therapeutic and help individuals cope with their own challenges. Cognitive Stimulation: Reading fiction stimulates the brain and improves cognitive function. By engaging in complex narratives, readers exercise their critical thinking, problem-solving, and memory skills. Fiction also exposes readers to new ideas, perspectives, and cultures, broadening their knowledge and fostering intellectual curiosity. Empathy and Social Connection: Fiction fosters empathy by allowing readers to step into the shoes of different characters and understand their motivations and experiences. This can promote a greater understanding of others and encourage compassion and tolerance. By sharing their love of books and discussing their favorite characters, readers can also connect with like-minded individuals and build a sense of community. Stress Reduction and Improved Sleep: Studies have shown that reading fiction before bed can reduce stress levels and improve sleep quality. The calming and relaxing effects of reading can help individuals unwind after a busy day and prepare for a restful night's sleep.