Category: Historical

A Lila Review: His Pagan Love by Wayne Mansfield

Rating: 3.5 stars out of 5

One day fate decides to smile on Brennus.

He’s hunting in the woods when he is almost seen by a group of Roman soldiers returning to their encampment. He hides until they pass, then decides to bathe in the nearby stream. Naked, he finds a mossy rock on which to lie while the sun dries and warms him.

It isn’t long before his instincts tell him he isn’t alone. He discovers a soldier watching him and leaps to his feet, ready to fight. But fighting is the last thing Cyprian, the handsome Roman soldier, has on his mind.

Over time the men become lovers, finding happiness in a world gone mad. They agree to meet regularly and for a time, they do. Until one day Brennus is captured by the Romans.

Where is Cyprian? Didn’t he see his handsome soldier as he was being led into the encampment? Or will he ultimately be betrayed?

His Pagan Love is an ode to the Romans and their love of gods and conquest. The story is in part unbelievable for the era and the events Cyprian and Brennus overcame. Yes, it is a lovely tale of sacrifice and devotion, mixed with an unforgiven quality of life. 

The assertions of tribes, Romans, and other primitive cultures were well integrated and gave the reader the flexibility to see beyond the need for a more extensive world-built. The silent ways in which they communicated not only between them but with the rest of their limited world were simple and interesting.

This is a short story that can be read at once between longer books. It has enough of a story to satisfy the reader’s curiosity without leaving them wanting for more. A little unremarkable but strong enough to leave us with a smile.

The cover by  Written in Designs has some historical aspects but is more modern than accurate. It works but isn’t enticing enough to get readers to stop and look deeper into the book’s description.

Sale Links: JMS | Amazon | Nook

ebook, 75 pages
Published: September 29, 2018, by JMS Books
ISBN:9781634867337
Edition Language: English

A Barb the Zany Old Lady Review: Band Sinister by KJ Charles

Rating: 5 stars out of 5

Apparently Georgette Heyer’s work was the author’s inspiration for this book. So, first and foremost, I am embarrassed to say I had no idea who Georgette Heyer was. Agatha Christie? Yes. Georgette Heyer? Nope. So, though some reviewers may cite how wonderful the connection is, this one is clueless.

Was this typical KJ Charles? No. Not at all—nary a body to be found. But lots of loving, a band of gregarious rakes who call themselves the Murder, a sweet, innocent, virginal man with a mischief-making sister who breaks her leg and lands among the rakes—this one has so much more. A body simply wasn’t needed.

Sir Philip Rookwood inherited his estate when his older brother died suddenly after running off with the wife of the Frisby family who lived nearby. The problem to most who knew the Rookwoods is that Philip is the black sheep of the family—the illegitimate son who runs with a crowd of young men, many of whom are outrageous in their personality and their dress.  Philip is no doubt thought of as the same since he calls his group “the Murder.”  We find out this is deliberate since his friend Corvin’s name means crow, and between Philip’s “rook” and their friend John Raven, they form a murder of crows.  These three have been together since their boarding school years when all Philip had were his best friends and Corvin’s family who welcomed him as one of their own.

Guy Frisby and his sister, Amanda, have continued to live in the village for years after their mother brought scandal to them simply because their father gambled away their funds before he died. Their mother’s aunt gave them enough money to stay quietly in the country away from society where their soiled reputation won’t affect her daughters’ chances of making a good match.

Amanda reveals to Guy that she’s authored a scandalous book, Darkdown, featuring Sir Peter Falconwood and his dastardly friends. She admits she based it on rumors about Sir Philip and the men with him, and Guy is mortified. Then when Amanda’s horse throws her on Sir Philip’s land and she has to recuperate at his mansion, Guy vows he won’t leave her side so her reputation remains safe, or as safe as it can be given their history. Once there he meets Philip and his friends and realizes just how much trouble he’s in when he can’t take his eyes from the notorious rake.

As the days go on, Guy learns there’s more about Philip than anyone knows.  Aside from being serious about cultivating sugar from beetroot to help his tenant farmers, he’s caring, kind, sweet, and dangerous for Guy’s cravings for men. He’s never acted on his feelings, but his resistance is nil where Philip is concerned and the attraction is mutual. Being thrown together away from the eyes of the rumor mill gives them the opportunity to know each other in carnal ways and the author takes us to a time of innocence and surrender with a light-hearted twist to the romance. One of my favorite scenes is when Guy has his first fellatio experience and realizes the fluid is similar to oysters and he definitely doesn’t like oysters.

While Guy and Philip are occupied, Amanda is still healing from her broken leg and she and her doctor, another of Philip’s friends, are becoming closer. She’s also revealed that she authored Darkdown, the scandalous novel which delights Philip’s friends, especially Corvin, who sees himself in a promiscuous character and spreads the word to his London friends that this is a book that must be read. Things progress nicely until the bubble bursts and Guy and Amanda’s aunt and uncle arrive to lay down the law and break up the events at the mansion. 

A must read, this is KJ Charles’s lightest romance to date and she’s captured the sweet innocence of Guy Frisby perfectly. She’s also built intriguing character sketches of Philip’s other friends so I certainly hope we get to see them in their own books in the future.  Very highly recommended and not to be missed. 

Cover art is charming and works perfectly for this novel.

Sales Link:  Amazon

Book Details:

ebook, 224 pages
Expected publication: October 11th 2018 by KJC Books
ISBN139781912688029
Edition LanguageEnglish

Blog Tour for “no way out” by Eric Alan Westfall (exclusive excerpt and giveaway)

no way out

QSFer Eric Alan Westfall has a new MM historical romance out:

It’s April of 1816 in Another England.

And Jeremy—a whore from the Dock—is living in a guest bedroom at the London home of the (in)famous Iron Marquess, with over fifteen days missing from his life.

For someone who remembers everything from his third birthday on, it’s unnerving not to know. Fine, fourteen days for the coma and the infection delirium. But those first thirty-six hours. Do they explain how he got hurt, how he got to Ireton House, and why his lordship’s mountain-sized valet is taking care of him? Or why his ironness looks at him with nothing iron at all in his eyes?

Jeremy and the Iron Marquess both have dark secrets. Forced engagements, an inheritance, a scheme to clap Jeremy in Bedlam, the revelation of the missing hours, a problem with plumage, some numbered accounts, and a long sea voyage, all seem to mean there’s no way out of the snares surrounding them. Or is the old saying true: where there’s a waltz, there’s a way?

All royalties will go to a local LGBT organization.

Universal Buy Link | Amazon | QueeRomance Ink | Goodreads

Giveaway

Eric is giving away two backlist eBooks (ePub or mobi) to one luck winner. Enter via Rafflecopter:

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(Exclusive Excerpt)

From Chapter 11: The Third Time Is Not A Charm

IRETON

23 April 1816

9: 15 a.m.

Ireton House, London

Geoffrey Hayward-Brown, who had perhaps hyphenated his name to give him a false illusion of gentility, picked up the portfolio and clutched it to his plump bosom.

Inside the outer prosperous, satisfied hog was a sly, thin weasel, not clamoring to get out, but content to hide in the shadows thrown by the solicitor’s falsely bright bonhomie.

Yet both inner weasel and outer fat man were nervous. He glanced away again, and then did whatever version of summoning up the blood and stiffening the sinews weasels do before being forced into battle. Weasels do not willingly fight, but only do so when compelled, or bribed.

The air in my parlor suddenly felt as if a white-gloved finger swiped through it would come away not merely smudged, but fouled. I had not followed through, last time, with my joking reference to the parlor needing a cleaning after the baron’s last visit, but this time, I might.

This was a man who dealt in agreements, in plots and plans which did not merely hover at the farthest edges of the law’s limits, but often went well beyond, though cloaked in seeming propriety. Today was a part of one such agreement.

The baron extended his hand and snapped his fingers. “The documents!”

The weasel looked a bit relieved he might not have to directly deal with me after all. He hurriedly opened the portfolio, and tugged out several documents which he handed to the baron. He in turn glanced at them, presumably to ascertain they were the ones he wanted, and presented them to me. I did not take them.

Instead, I turned to the two constables, and removed a good part of the ironness from my voice. “Gentlemen, may I assume you are here at his—” a very slight head-tilt indicated the baron “—behest?”

The older took a moment to work out the “behest,” before saying, “Y-yes, my lord.” The younger did his best not to look as anguished as he felt. I would not want him to wet himself, so I did not give him any of my attention. The older was, I thought, experienced and strong enough to endure.

“I believe my discussion with these two…gentlemen—” I heard the indignant huff of air, probably from the baron, but ignored it “—needs to be private. As I am confident nothing will occur which would require your services, perhaps you might wait elsewhere? If you would not mind the kitchen, I understand my cook has made some of her quite remarkable lemon tarts, and is, as the saying goes, rather a dab hand with sandwiches and cool ale.”

The older constable’s eyes said, “Oh, Lord, yes, my lord. Thank you!”

What came out of his dutiful mouth was, “I am not sure we should, my lord. It…it is a serious matter we are here about, and—”

“Excuse me, constable, for interrupting. But you are…”

“Um. Constable Howard, my lord. And, uh, this is Constable Stewart.”

“Excellent. I believe your superior is Sergeant Knowlton?”

His jaw dropped, and then he clamped it quickly shut. “You…you know Sergeant Knowlton, my lord?”

I could not in truth say I knew him well, but I had made sure since the information from Somerset House came in, to make the acquaintance of all those in charge of the police stations within a reasonable radius of Ireton House. In person. Inquiring about the nature of their work; their thoughts on how their great services to London might be improved. Making a reasonable, or even a close-but-not-quite-outrageous, donation to the fund which provided assistance to the widows and orphans of policemen who died in the line of duty, and for those who became unable to work for the same reason.

It was not, of course, a bribe. Merely my civic duty. And while I suspected of one “superior” the entirety of my donation would never reach those who managed the fund, it was a matter to be addressed later. Sergeant Knowlton was not that man, and he had impressed me.

“Not well, Constable Howard. But I can in good faith say I believe he would not feel you had been remiss in your duties if you were to allow us this private conversation.”

The relief of both constables was palpable.

It had taken a great deal of courage for Constable Howard, solely in the name of duty, to deny what was a clear command, though couched as a request, from a very high-ranking nobleman. I would have to ensure he was suitably rewarded, in terms of his career, at some later date when it would not appear to be a bribe, even though any assistance I might provide would not in fact be a bribe. Courage in any form should be recognized.

As Brendan’s courage had not been. As it would be, I hoped.

“I must protest, my lord!” the baron said.

Protest away, I thought, but only replied. “If you must, Lord Enderby, if you must. However, I believe these gentlemen understand a private conversation with you and your solicitor” —weasel— “will not result in me scarpering off towards parts unknown, and leaving them and you behind to raise a hue and cry.”

I turned, went to the door, opened it. Carleton was there.

In my younger days, much younger, when I still had fancies and fantasies, I almost believed Carleton was a genie with bottles lurking everywhere, given the speed with which he was present when he was wanted.

“Ah. Carleton. If you would be so kind as to escort the constables to the kitchen? We are going to have a quiet conversation here, and as I have regaled them with the tale of Mrs. Bentley’s lemon tarts and superb sandwiches, I thought it would be an appropriate place for them to wait. I have, you see, promised them I would not run away.”

Carleton naturally did not blink at any of this folderol, but he unquestionably understood the status of the constables had changed from unwanted interlopers to visitors who were to be treated with courtesy and respect. “Of course, my lord.” He looked past me at Howard and Stewart. “Constables. If you would be so kind as to follow me?”

With patent relief on their faces, helped by the generous “be so kind” in lieu of a butlerian command of the type to make constables quake—a relief they did not allow to become visible until their backs were to the baron—they departed. I closed the door behind them, and turned back to the still-standing baron and solicitor.

 

 

Author Bio

Eric is a Midwesterner, and as Lady Glenhaven might say, “His first sea voyage was with Noah.” He started reading at five with one of the Andrew Lang books (he thinks it was The Blue Fairy Book) and has been a science fiction/fantasy addict ever since. Most of his writing is in those (MM) genres.

The exceptions are his Another England (alternate history) series:  The Rake, The Rogue and the Roué(Regency novel), Mr. Felcher’s Grand Emporium, or, The Adventures of a Pair of Spares in the Fine Art of Gentlemanly Portraiture(Victorian), with no way out(Regency) coming out a month after Of Princes.

Two more fairy tales are in progress:  3 Boars & A Wolf Walk Into A Bar(Eric is sure you can figure this one out), and The Truth About Them Damn Goats(of the gruff variety).

Now all he has to do is find the time to write the incomplete stuff! (The real world can be a real pain!)

Author Facebook (Author Page): https://www.facebook.com/Eric-Alan-Westfall-1045476662268838

Author Twitter: https://twitter.com/eawestfall43

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A MelanieM Review: Heart’s Desire (Boystown #11) by Marshall Thornton

Rating: 5 stars out of 5

It’s February 1985. Nick struggles to recover from a gunshot wound, while taking on the case of a woman with a mental illness, who may or may not have witnessed a murder. As he attempts to determine exactly what the woman saw and how much danger she may be in, he juggles the approaching DeCarlo trial, an ill Mrs. Harker, and the sexually precocious Terry. Valentine’s Day with boyfriend Joseph produces some big changes in their relationship.

Life is evolving, but there’s no guarantee it’s for the better.

I find it interesting how Marshall Thornton has written each book as almost as a mirror held up against the life (both inner reflections and daily outer living) of PI Nick Nowak.  In some books the stories flow along with his struggles, both emotional and physical, occasionally ending up with some light and hope for Nick and the readers.

But with Heart’s Desire (Boystown #11), the latest in this  incredible series, the struggle gets darker, heavier for many around him, including his mother in law  (sort of), his friend with HIV, even his building super.  Oh, and himself, still fighting to recover from being shot  It’s going very slowly.And Nick can’t understand why he’s physically not himself, including no sexual relations with his boyfriend.

Joseph would like Nick to reject jobs that need surveillance, the very things have have gotten him injured.  That’s not something that Nick thinks can he do, and while he’s thinking about his relationship and his health, a case comes his way in fhe form of his super’s sister who believes she’s seen a dead body and refuses to go back to her apartment.  Should be easy excerpt that the  sister has mental  illness and there’s no body.  A typical case for Nick because it’s convoluted, dark, and, connecting the dots for Nick manage to bring him up against people that impinge on other parts of his life.

There are so many obligations and emotional strings tugging at  Nick now.  Mrs. Harker has terminal cancer and facing that and her role in his life is rough for Nick, equally so for Terry, the young student who spends most of his time with her and how has a “mature” boyfriend, another factor Nick and his friends are having issues with.

Marshall Thornton threads all these incredibly complicated storylines through the novel and Nick’s life with such craft and such raw, gritty writing that the narrative and characters stick to your heart, making you think, making you hurt for them.  And in this series and because we know the era and history, we fear for them.  We know what they are dancing around…the elephant in the room.  The tests that some haven’t or won’t take.  AIDS.  It’s the dark shadow that looms over Nick, his lover, and all his friends and any future they might have.

Heart’s Desire (Boystown #11) by Marshall Thornton is a must read story in a must read series.  I’m not sure how many the author plans.  If he intends to finish the 80’s, because we are at 1985 now and he other series, Pinx Video,  starts in the 1990’s.  I want more and yet I fear what’s to come.

I can’t recommend this story and series more highly  enough!

Cover art: Marshall Thornton. Works for branding the series and  storyline.

Sales Link:  Amazon

Book Details:

Kindle Edition, 210 pages
Published August 10th 2018
ASINB07DFMSRTN
Edition LanguageEnglish
SeriesBoystown #11