Monday, 17 February 2020
Sunday, 9 February 2020
My excerpts for the RNA Scottish Chapter Event Sunday 9th February
SEVERAL BRIEF EXCERPTS
from
Love’s Ransom by Gwen Kirkwood.
This is set in 1603
when clans made their own laws and raiders were hung if caught on another man's land. It is earlier and different to my usual stories.
Isabella Ellwood was too tense to sleep. Every
instinct told her something was wrong. Her brother, Jamie, should have been
home from the cattle raid by now.
Isabella said, ‘Sam is more friend than
servant.’
Alexander Latimer declared,‘He is fortunate then, but foolish to deliver himself, and you, into
our hands. You must love your brother dearly, Isabella Ellwood.’
‘I know the Ellwood lands are near the border but I thought the English had ceased their reiving since 1603?’
‘Most of the time that is so,' Isabella replied, 'but a family
within our barony covets our land and – and more.’ She shuddered and delicate colour rose beneath her
creamy skin. Alexander’s eyes lit with admiration. He understood. What normal man would not desire such a girl with her beauty, spirit and courage.
*****
‘I
am here because you hold my brother prisoner, Sir. He
is innocent. Your
men crave the thrill of a hanging. Let
them hang me instead of
Jamie. A life for a life'
There was a gasp of protest from Sam.
'First may I write
my mother a letter?
‘You can read and write?’ Henry asked, his
blue eyes alert with
interest.
‘Reading and writing! ’Tis all the boy thinks about!’ Sir William said gruffly. He looked
at Jamie. `Your
sister will stay here in your place, but she will stay as a wife.’
‘A-a
wife?’ Isabella’s eyes flew to Alexander’s face.
He smiled with delight. Isabella
knew he wanted
her for his wife. Her heart beat faster, but it was not with the fear or
loathing she felt for Neb Truddle. Sir William’s voice broke the invisible thread which drew herself and Zander
Latimer together.
‘Instead
of celebrating a hanging tonight, we shall celebrate a wedding,' Sir William announced.'I shall enjoy
having grandchildren with your
spirit ,
Isabella. Henry, you will have a more worthy bride than ever I could have
found for you.’
Zander’s eyes widened, then his face darkened.
‘Me?’ Henry’s face paled in shock and dismay.
‘Of course. Who else can give me grandsons with the Douglas name?
Scottish Chapter Saturday 8th February
As many of you will know The RNA Scottish Chapter have been holding a weekend of romantic fiction on Facebook with authors putting up a short excerpt of one (or two) of their own books. Everyone who is interested was invited to comment or ask questions. This is the link but there is not much time left to comment and be entered into the prize draw. Even if you miss that you can still see all the books and comments. The link is below under "Discussion"
https://www.facebook.com/events/172509054027536
This was my offering for Saturday but I have been plagued by the internet flashing on and off both days due to the stormy weekend. You can also see the first paragraph in the previous blog.
Excerpts from SECRETS IN THE
HEATHER
‘Victoria is not coming at all next week!’
Andrew burst out with more anger than he realised.
‘I see.’ Miss Traill frowned.
‘Have you quarrelled?’
‘Not exactly. Mark Jacobs is
coming home. She is saving her day off for him.
‘And you think Victoria loves him?’
‘I suppose she must do.’
‘You suppose? You’ve known
each other all your lives and you would rather torture yourself than ask her a
simple question? I thought you had more courage.’ Andrew flushed uncomfortably.
‘Sometimes it’s better not to
know …’
************
‘Doctor and Mrs Grantly have
invited me to dinner next Wednesday,’ Victoria said. ‘Doctor Grantly has an
announcement to make.’
‘What has that to do with me?’
Andrew shrugged.
‘Oh Andrew, I know you’re busy
and tired, but please don’t be cross. I need you to come. Mrs Grantly says I must
bring someone whose friendship I value. You’re my very best friend.’
‘Am I?’ Andrew asked
cynically. ‘You’re mixed up, Victoria.’
‘You mean … you’re
not my friend? You won’t come …?’ Her voice trembled. Her brown eyes were
dark with distress. Andrew felt his heart would burst with love for her.
‘Oh all right. What time?’ Her
face was transformed like sunshine after rain.
‘Oh thank you!’ She hugged his
arm. ‘It’s at seven-thirty.’
‘I’ll call for you in the car.’ It felt good
to say that, although he barely used it since Mr Rennie died. It cost petrol
and he could pedal his bicycle for nothing.
None of the four young people
who gathered at the doctor’s house that evening could ever have guessed the
secret he would reveal, or known the effect it would have on all their futures.
https://www.isis-publishing.co.uk. For audio book suppliers of Secrets in the
Heather
Tuesday, 4 February 2020
RNA 60TH ANNIVERSARY.-SCOTTISH CHAPTER ROMANTIC WEEKEND ON Face Book
The link below will take you to the Face Book page with details of the RNA Scottish Chapter's romantic weekend - 8th and 9th February when several Scottish romantic authors will be posting a BRIEF extract from one of their books. You are invited to send in comments and questions and we shall do our best to reply. Some authors are offering a free book in a prize draw for those of you taking part. The book I am offering is an e-book of MOORLAND MIST because it is the first in my most recent series. The book I shall be discussing is Secrets In The Heather - first in an earlier series of 3 books.
https://www.facebook.com/events/172509054027536/?event_time_id=172509060694202
This is the short passage I am considering but I may change my
mind by the weekend. It is the beginning of the book. Do you wonder what happens next? I
know it does not seem at all romantic but I assure readers it is if
they continue.
Secrets in the Heather
Thirteen year old Andrew
Pringle found himself further up the glen than he had ever been on his own but
he was eager to catch a glimpse of the vixen and her cubs. He knew he ought to
keep well away from the old quarry but he was sure he had heard a whimper from
an animal in distress. His blue eyes
scanned the scrub and rough grass which had grown up in crevices since the
quarry was last worked a dozen years ago.
The whimper came again. He thought it was below him and he stepped as
near the edge as he dare. Loose stones and rocks immediately broke away,
rolling and crashing over the jagged outcrops, some of them to land in the
water which had gathered far below. Andrew
shuddered, but the animal whined again. He had to investigate. He lay on his stomach and eased himself
towards the edge of the quarry. He
gasped when he realised he was on the edge of an overhang which could break
away any minute. He edged back. The whimper of the animal became more distinct,
more urgent. It doesn't want me to leave, Andrew thought.
He walked along the rim of the quarry until he thought
the ground was firmer. Again he lay on his stomach and squirmed forward. Almost
directly beneath him was a narrow ledge. A scrubby sapling seemed to have
sprouted from the bare rock but it was enough to prevent the animal from
falling to its death. It was not a fox. It was a collie dog. Andrew's heart
began to thump. His eyes searched the surrounding area. There was no path to
the ledge, but there were several boulders interspersed with stunted bushes. He
judged the ledge was not much more than twelve feet below him. He refused to
let his mind dwell on the nothingness beyond. He was not usually impulsive, but
he knew the collie was pleading for help and his young heart couldn't resist.
He eased himself over the edge.
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