Category: MFRW

To vote or not to vote?—Jan Selbourne #MFRWauthor

Parliament House, Canberra, Australia

Without mentioning politics do you vote? Why or why not?

I have voted in every federal and state election since I was eighteen.
Why? Because I am damned lucky to live in a country where I can vote. Australia is a parliamentary democracy, meaning the people choose representatives at regular elections.

It is also compulsory. All Australian citizens over the age of 18 (except those of unsound mind or convicted of serious crimes) must be registered to vote and show up at the poll on election day.

The main reason for compulsory voting was our laid back ‘she’ll be right, mate’ attitudes. After Federation in 1901, the forging of the new Commonwealth was ‘a bit troubled’. The 5 million people spread around this large continent weren’t interested in voting. The new parliament was concerned and the impetus from both major parties to introduce compulsory voting was the stark decline in voter turnout. From 71% of registered voters attending the polls in 1919 to just 59% in 1922. The worried politicians agreed something had to be done before they were out of a job!

In 1924 compulsory voting became law and the impact was immediate. Voter numbers at the 1925 election rose to 91%. I bet there were sighs of relief within the hallowed halls of government.

Elections are held on Saturdays. Absent voters can vote in any state polling place or apply for a postal vote. Mobile polling facilities are set up in some hospitals, nursing homes, prisons and remote areas.

Of course, there are arguments for and against.

The For team –

It’s a civic duty comparable to jury duty, taxation, compulsory education. Parliament reflects more accurately the will of the people. The voter is only compelled to show up at a polling place, the actual voting is by secret ballot.

The Against team –

Infringement of liberty. The politically ignorant’ and those with little interest in the polls forced to attend. It may increase the number of ‘donkey votes.’

I personally feel giving up half an hour of my time once every three years is a small price to pay for a democratically elected government.

And, if you don’t want to vote, don’t complain later.

What do you think?

Read the next blog in the blog hop by going here.

Jan Selbourne

The Woman Behind the Mirror
The Proposition
Lies of Gold—Silver Historical for 2019: Coffee Pot Book Club

Fun and games–traveling outside the U.S. #MFRWauthor

I admit to not having traveled outside the U.S. very much. And it’s sad because I love going to new places and meeting people and seeing things. However, the U.S. is so beautiful and diverse, there are places here I haven’t seen and should.

My first trip outside the U.S. was when Jack and I were traveling. We went into Canada a fair amount. We didn’t have much time to sightsee or have fun except once, when we rented a car and drove from Calgary to Banff and up the Icefield Parkway to Jasper. What a great time! Besides the scenery, the park at Jasper had opened a little early. We were just about the only guests in the restaurant—where Jack had trout they’d caught in the river practically outside the door. The cabins where we stayed were close enough to hear the rushing water as the spring snowmelt headed downstream. The trip was only for a weekend but it was so special that I remember it as though it were yesterday.

I’ve been lucky enough to have visited Great Britain and Scotland a few Scotland and castletimes. Each has been an enlightening experience. I love Scotland! The people are so friendly and the country feels like home to me. Maybe in another time and another life…? England proper is also wonderful. What a great city York is! So walkable, so historical. I loved my time there. The same for Oxford, where I attended the OxBridge program for teachers one summer. However, I wished Oxford had a few more benches around!

My sister-in-law talked me into going to Italy several years ago. To tell the truth, I wasn’t all that excited to see Italy, but she wanted someone to go with her and Jack encouraged me, so I went. She promised that once I saw Italy I’d want to go back again. The woman spoke truth! We spent time in Venice, Florence, and Rome, Each city was so different, and yet so the same. So much history, so much art. Too much to take in, in any one visit—or two or ten.

So where would I like to go if I were able to travel? I could happily go back to any of those places again. I’d also like to see Croatia and that whole peninsula, and I’d love to meet my pal, Jan in person! Australia and New Zealand, here I come!

I wish!!

What is your dream trip?

Read the next blog in the blog hop by going here.

Dee

Burning Bridges by Anne Krist: old letters put the lie to Sara’s life. Now, mending her past mistakes while crossing burning bridges will be the hardest thing she’s ever done.

One Woman Only
Only a Good Man Will Do
Naval Maneuvers

What’s a guy to do? #MFRWHooks

This is a blog hop. Be sure to check the link at the bottom to see posts from other authors!

 One Woman Only by Dee S. KnightBlurb:
As one of a set of triplets, Jonah Goodman has always stood out as the least academic—and the last one to take the world, or commitment, seriously. Thing is, that’s not really who he is. But who can he convince of that? Not his family, who see him as they always have. And maybe not his one love, the sweetheart he left behind in high school but with whom he is now sharing an erotic holiday. Will he get his second chance to prove to Kelly that he is a loving man who wants more than a sensual few days, but a real relationship with the woman he lost once and doesn’t want to lose again? With that chance and Kelly’s love, Jonah knows that a “good man” can become a better man.

Buy link:

Kindle Unlimited

Excerpt:

He lifted his finger to signal the barkeep, who slung a towel over his shoulder and came right down.

“A burger and fries, please.” Jonah had said the words, but in synch with someone else. Someone whose voice was slightly higher and a lot more feminine. He turned his head to the left and met the green gaze of the last person he wanted to see tonight. For an instant, the spit dried in his mouth and his eyes widened as his past slammed headfirst into his present. She was still the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, and his body responded with an immediate and aching erection.

Then she opened her mouth.

“Oh hell,” Kelly said. “It’s you.”

Irritation struck Jonah right between the eyes at Kelly’s tone if not her words. “Yeah, it’s me.”

“So,” interrupted the barman, “two burgers and fries?” He looked at Jonah. “You paying?”

“Sure,” he said at the same time she said, “No.”

“I don’t mind,” Jonah said.

“No thank you,” Kelly said stiffly. She held out a crisp, new twenty-dollar bill. “Rare as you’ll cook it. Add a bottle of Sam Adams to that, will you? And I’ll be sitting over there in that back booth.”

The guy behind the bar took her money and scribbled on a pad of paper. “Change will come with your beer.” He looked to Jonah. “You?”

“Medium rare on the burger, and I’ll take a refill on my beer.” Standing, he dug out a wrinkled twenty from his front pocket and handed it over. “I’ll be somewhere near that back booth.” The guy nodded and left. Turning, Jonah noticed that Kelly had already gone. She sat as prim as could be, in the back of the dining room, in the booth she’d claimed. A two-top table sat empty next to the booth. Grabbing his beer, he ambled in that direction.

Why in the world, after all the angst he’d suffered knowing he was going to have to see her this weekend, did he now willingly sit near Kelly? He must have some masochist thing going on that he never noticed before. He placed his beer bottle on the table and sat down facing the same direction she faced.

Years ago, she’d worn a lilac fragrance. When the lilacs bloomed each spring since, he’d thought of Kelly. She wore something different now. Jonah was grateful because it provided a break from his memories of her.

“What are you doing? There are any number of other places you could sit, and I wish you would.”

“What was that?” Jonah drawled. “This is a free country and I believe I can sit anywhere I want to. I choose here.”

“Ugh! I thought when we saw each other again you’d be aggravating but I see I underestimated you.” She craned her neck as though looking for another table.

“There’s no place you could move in here right now that I couldn’t find a place close by so let’s just get this initial meeting out of the way and the rest of the weekend will be easier.”

Jonah cast a glance at her and then faced forward again. She didn’t look that much different than when he’d last seen her. How could that be? Same strawberry blonde hair, but cut stylishly short. Her eyes still flashed emerald fire—he’d seen that when she glared at him at the bar. If anything, her shape was more perfect than when they were in high school. Her waist was narrow, her breasts full, and legs that disappeared under her knee-length dress seemed long and curvy. But there was something very different about this Kelly. That glowing, smiling, confident girl he’d fallen in puppy love with and always wondered about had disappeared. In her place sat a woman who looked as though she’d seen a side of the world that had disappointed her.

Protectiveness pushed to the forefront and Jonah wished he could knock her troubles—whatever they were—off her shoulders. One thing remained the same. She still made his heart beat erratically, still had him wishing he could hold her—and do more. He needed to get himself under control if he was going to avoid making a fool of himself.

Quietly she sat, grinding her jaw. Then, her shoulders slumped and she laid her head against the back of the booth as though it was just too heavy to hold up any longer. “Maybe you’re right.”

“Of course I’m right. Here, let’s make this easier.” He stood up and then slid into the booth across from her. All the better to stare into her eyes and study her plump lips that looked so kissable he nearly groaned.

Fire flashed in the emerald depths of her eyes again. “I didn’t invite you to sit with me.”

“Are you sure? Sorry. I thought you did.” The waitress brought their beers and change. Jonah handed her back a five and gave her a broad smile. “Thanks. I’ll have my dinner here, too, okay?”

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Gold, gold and more gold #MFRWHooks

This is a blog hop. Be sure to check the link at the bottom to see posts from other authors!

Lies of Gold by Jan SelbourneLies of Gold

Blurb
Their love affair ended in anger and painful consequences. Katherine Ashford has guarded a secret through years of abuse. Fighting wars and hard living has numbed Julian Ashford. Then fate steps in. Gold is crossing the Channel to Napoleon Bonaparte and Julian is ordered back to where it all began, and Katherine. It’s her secret and the increasing danger that rekindles the love they once shared. When a murder exposes lies, death and devastating betrayal, they finally face the mastermind behind this sordid smuggling operation.

Buy Links
Amazon
Goodreads
Barnes and Noble

MFRW Book Hooks

Excerpt
Julian felt a sliver of shock when he opened the door to his bedchamber. He couldn’t remember how he got here. Swearing softly, he walked to the window overlooking the front courtyard and rested his head against the glass. He’d fathered a child, a daughter. For nine years, his daughter had lived in this house as Charles’s daughter. His vision blurred. Ten years of hard living had buried those deep painful scars and all it took was one look at Katherine and that small girl’s face to peel it all away. Like peeling an onion, his eyes were stinging like hell.

He remembered the night he met Katherine as if it were yesterday. Charles was in France and he was in London attending a debutante’s ball. Bored out of his head with the simpering young females and strutting males he was looking for an excuse to depart when his cousin’s tall, elegant wife, Katherine was introduced to him. The orchestra began playing and he asked her to join him on the floor. It was a waltz; he took her in his arms, her eyes met his and he knew he’d met the only woman he’d ever love. They’d set off murmurs behind fans for dancing twice and they didn’t leave each other for a week. They’d made intense, passionate, love, they’d laid in each other’s arms and talked for hours, they were as one. She’d confided Charles was a hard, brutish man but she would not leave him because she’d lose all rights to her four years old son. He’d begged her, made promises he knew he couldn’t keep. She’d shaken her head in despair. As soon as Charles returned to London they would go home to Halton Hall.

He’d prayed Charles’s ship would sink to the bottom of the Channel. She’d cried in his arms; he’d cried in her arms. The day before Charles was due to arrive in London they became tense with each other and finally, distraught, he’d accused her of selling herself for the title and privilege. She’d thrown a heavy teapot at his head. When it struck, he’d seen stars for several seconds before shouting more insults. She’d furiously told him he couldn’t afford to keep her on his army pay. He’d walked out.

Julian barely remembered the following months of heavy drinking and angry self-pity until the army knocked his arrogance and selfishness out of him and saved his sanity. He knew damn well his army pay wouldn’t have kept her and he knew damn well she’d have lost all rights to her son. Knowing Charles, he would have demanded she be brought back to him and the law and the church would have supported him. Her life would have been worse than hell. Now this, Christ, never in a million years did he expect this. He wanted to walk away but he couldn’t because the whole damn top secret investigation would crumble or blow up in his face.

He sat down by the fire and put his head in his hands. He didn’t know it then, but that night fourteen months ago, changed his life. Benjamin Bloomfield, aide de camp to His Royal Highness, the Prince Regent, had ordered Brigadier Sir Ian MacDonald, Sir Henry Whitton and himself to meet at a nondescript location on the outskirts of London. On their arrival, they’d been momentarily lost for words to find a sober and serious Prince Regent waiting for them. Senior government officials had drawn the Regent’s attention to the alarming amounts of gold leaving England. Well-placed sources in France had reported English gold was being smuggled across the Channel to help finance Napoleon Bonaparte’s army. Intensive investigations along the east coast had failed to find any solid evidence but the Regent was not satisfied. He and Bloomfield were convinced someone in the upper echelons of power and influence was behind it or protecting the smugglers. That night the five men present decided that from now on the Prince Regent would shrug it off as rumors and lose interest.

That night MacDonald, Whitton and Julian agreed to begin their search for the source. The Prince Regent named the secret investigation Spider’s Web. The three men thought the name childish but they dutifully indulged His Royal Highness. Not one word of the meeting was recorded and at the conclusion the Prince Regent instructed the three men to meet on the first day of each month and report their progress to Bloomfield the day after. Their investigations were secret and painstaking and gradually they began to close in on this part of the coast. They had observed from a distance, they had moved a little closer and then, as with every other investigation, the scent disappeared. However, they were convinced, and MacDonald decreed Julian was the only suitable person to come and go around the Ballingford estates and the coast without raising suspicions.

Stretching his feet towards the fire, he remembered his furious refusal to return to this place he despised intensely and how he nearly resigned his commission when summoned to a private audience with the Prince Regent. High Treason was involved and as an officer of the Crown he was expected to do his duty. He’d reluctantly bowed to HRH’s orders and it was agreed that to be convincing he’d have to be in dire straits to return. His debts, scandals and fistfights were carefully and authentically orchestrated culminating in him being bawled out by Ian MacDonald who’d conveniently forgotten the raw young corporal and scandal loving clerk in his office. Then their one reliable informer, who’d only agreed to meet him under strict conditions of anonymity, was found with his throat cut. He and Baker had arrived at Halton Hall with no idea of where to start or where to look for the needle in the haystack of boats and fishermen and identify whoever was behind this well organized group of traitors. When he did find evidence, his orders were to send a coded message to MacDonald and Whitton and the net would close in.

No matter what was thrown at him now, he could not walk away. They were so close and if the web was broken it could not be repaired. Nor could he let down Ian MacDonald, his uncle and mentor, to whom he owed so much.

Jan
Jan Selbourne was born and educated in Melbourne, Australia and her love of literature and history began as soon as she learned to read and hold a pen. After graduating from a Melbourne Business College her career began in the dusty world of ledgers and accounting, working in Victoria, Queensland and the United Kingdom. On the point of retiring, she changed course to work as secretary of a large NSW historical society. Now retired Jan is enjoying her love of travelling and literature. She has two children, a stray live in cat and lives near Maitland, New South Wales.

Contact Jan:
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Whatever the kind, give me chocolate! #MFRWauthor

It used to be a tradition in Jack’s family to give Whitman’s Samplers at Christmas. Ooo! I loved that gift! And it was a sign of Jack’s love for me that he used to let me have all the caramels. However, other than chocolate covered caramels, and some candy bars like Baby Ruth, I’m not much of a chocolate lover. Jack could consume his weight in chocolate and be a happy camper, but not me. A piece of cake that he could eat two servings of, I can handle a couple of bites and I’m done.

I guess I’m that rare (strange) woman who isn’t a huge fan of the treat that has such a great effect on emotions and well-being. I had a feeling, though, that someone has matched personalities to chocolate, and I was right. I found two sites that explain how which chocolate we pick from the box shows something about us. For me, I’m an introvert (I pick the squares and rectangles), and I’m happy (caramel). Since it doesn’t matter whether the chocolate is dark or milk—as long as there’s caramel inside—I can be either a hard charger up for a challenge (dark) or relaxed and romantic (milk). It depends on the day, I suppose.

Here are two sites I found fun to read: The Westbridge Hotel blog and Charbonnel et Walker blog. Have fun deciding which personality fits your chocolate preferences! How accurate were your choices?

Read the next blog in the blog hop by going here.

Dee
Burning Bridges by Anne Krist: old letters put the lie to Sara’s life. Now, mending her past mistakes while crossing burning bridges will be the hardest thing she’s ever done.

One Woman Only
Only a Good Man Will Do
Naval Maneuvers

Chocolate – milk, dark or light? Jan Selbourne #MFRWauthor

I don’t care if its milk, dark or light, its chocolate and should be enjoyed – anytime – anywhere.

As a dedicated chocolate lover, I decided to check some chocolate facts and look what I found.

The cocoa beans grow inside the cacao fruit. It takes about 900 cacao beans to make 1 kilo of chocolate. We cannot turn our backs on such effort.

More important, here are some of the benefits:

  • It is good for the heart and circulation.
  • It reduces risk of stroke.
  • Its mineral rich.
  • It reduces cholesterol.
  • It’s good for your skin.
  • It can help you lose weight.
  • It’s good for mothers and babies.
  • It may prevent diabetes.
  • Chocolate is good for the brain.
  • Chocolate makes you feel better.

While checking these invaluable facts I learned Napoleon loved chocolate and demanded it be available at all times, including his military campaigns. (I wouldn’t be at all surprised to learn his chocolate was stolen by the Duke of Wellington before the Battle of Waterloo.)

Chocolate plays an important role in society. Grandma’s birthday. Valentine’s Day. A thank you. A peace offering, often accompanied with flowers. What better housewarming gift than a chocolate and wine hamper? Heck, any excuse will do.

‘Ah’, some righteous souls will say. ‘It can be addictive.’ Of course it’s addictive! One look at a box of chocolates and I’m an addict and a thief. I can be trusted with someone else’s money, car, wine but I freely admit, I cannot be trusted with their chocolate.

It has just occurred to me that the characters in my historical novels have enjoyed wine and good food but not chocolate. That unforgivable omission will be rectified in my current novel under construction. One character might just gorge on it to justify my bad habits.

So, now we know milk dark or light is good for our health and well being we can indulge without any guilt. – and the witty sign at climate rallies puts it in a nutshell. “Save the Earth – It’s the only planet with chocolate.”

What do you think?

Read the next blog in the blog hop by going here.

Jan 

The Woman Behind the Mirror 
The Proposition
Lies of Gold—Silver Historical for 2019: Coffee Pot Book Club

Ghosts of wars past #MFRWHooks

Passionate Destiny

Passionate Destiny by Dee S. Knight

Blurb:

When Margaret Amis-Hollings inherits an old house in Virginia, she never suspects she’d be sharing it with a very loving ghost. Or that her interest would be divided between her spirit lover and the very live man who’s renovating the place. Suddenly her life is intertwined with a soldier from a previous century and with his descendant, Aaron, who has a secret concerning her home. Is it coincidence or the power of a past love that makes her want to share her life—as well as her destiny—with Aaron?

Buy link:

Kindle Unlimited

MFRW Book HooksExcerpt:

“What do you mean I’m being cut?” Dr. Margaret Amis-Hollings, professor of women’s studies in the sociology department at Hardis College, shot out of her chair and stared at the dean, Sally Smith, who remained seated.

“Calm down, Margaret.”

“Calm down? Calm down? You just told me that I’ve lost my job.” Pacing, she raked her hand through the tangle of auburn hair that never seemed to stay contained in barrettes. A million things went through her mind, not the least of which was how she would make her rent, her car payment, buy food.

“Oh my God, how am I going to live?” Collapsing in the chair she’d just vaulted out of, she turned to face her friend and boss. Her expression was half despair, half anger, all shock.

“I’m so sorry, Margaret. The board has ordered more budget cuts. It hasn’t been easy. You know how we’ve had to scrimp for the past few years. Now we even have to cull courses we think aren’t serving the full interests of the students.”

“But—but…” Tears choking her throat, she couldn’t at first finish her sentence. “But the women’s studies classes? They’re vital.”

In fact, she had thought the reason for meeting with Sally was to discuss the addition of a new offering: Women Villains. She’d been so proud of the catchy and intriguing title and even had the hook for the course description. “What makes ‘Jane the Ripper,’ and how do her contributing factors differ from Jack’s?” She’d anticipated sharing the materials she’d already prepared, and hearing Sally’s happy response when she revealed the number of students who’d already indicated an interest.

She’d planned for questions of course, but anticipated support and excitement from Sally. The last thing she imagined was being let go.

5 stars! “I’m a huge romance lover and this book reaffirmed my belief of love finding you when you least expect it. A brilliant paranormal romance with plenty of hot interludes. Highly recommend!”—N.N. Light

Author Dee S. Knight:
 A few years ago, Dee S. Knight began writing, making getting up in the morning fun. During the day, her characters killed people, fell in love, became drunk with power, or sober with responsibility. And they had sex, lots of sex.

After a while, Dee split her personality into thirds. She writes as Anne Krist for sweeter romances, and Jenna Stewart for ménage and shifter stories. All three of her personas are found on the Nomad Authors website (www.nomadauthors.com). Fortunately, Dee’s high school sweetheart is the love of her life and husband to all three ladies! Once a month, look for Dee’s Charity Sunday blog posts, where your comment can support a selected charity.

Author links:
Website: https://nomadauthors.com
Blog: http://nomadauthors.com/blog
Twitter: http://twitter.com/DeeSKnight
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/DeeSKnight2018
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/265222.Dee_S_Knight
Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B079BGZNDN
Newsletter: https://landing.mailerlite.com/webforms/landing/h8t2y6
LinkedIn: http://linkedin.com/in/dee-s-knight-0500749
Sweet ‘n Sassy Divas http://bit.ly/1ChWN3K

This is a blog hop. Be sure to check the link to see posts from other authors!

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A very Perilous Love: Jan Selbourne #MFRWHooks

Perilous Love by Jan SelbournePerilous Love

Blurb
Barely tolerating each other, Adrian and Gabrielle are trapped in Belgium as the clouds of war loom over Europe. Plunged into a nightmare of lies and betrayal, they flee for their lives as the German forces cross the border. Narrowly evading capture, witnessing death and atrocities, they reach safety as two different people who’ve found deep love. But, the tentacles of treachery have spread to England where Adrian faces charges of treason and a woman who’ll stop at nothing to see him dead.

Buy links

Amazon

MFRW Book Hooks

Excerpt

The first soft shafts of sunlight woke Adrian. The ground was hard and he was cold. He’d barely slept because of his throbbing foot and he was as thirsty as hell. He hobbled to the canal and drank thirstily then dipped both his feet into the cold water. He let out a slow sigh as the pain eased. Gabrielle knelt at the water’s edge beside him and washed her face and pushed her wet fingers through her hair to slick down the untidy curls.

Her voice was low and angry. ‘What was she like?’

‘What are you talking about?’ He scowled, dreading what was coming.

‘Sigrid, Maryanne, whatever her name was,’ she snapped back.

‘What the hell are you trying to do Gaby? Force an argument?

‘No, I’m not forcing an argument. I really want to know! You preferred that woman’s company to mine and your children’s and because of her and my uncle and your unbelievable stupidity, two innocent people have died, and we are forced to rely on each other to stay alive.  Are you proud of yourself? And was her beauty and obvious bedroom expertise worth all of this?’

Adrian turned his head away, angry and embarrassed.

‘I’m waiting,’ she persisted. I presume you also showered her with gifts and expensive baubles while we would be lucky to see you on our birthdays.’

Something snapped inside him. He’d had enough of her barbs and sarcasm.

Furious, he turned to face her. ‘If I could get up and walk away, I would. Just what are you trying to achieve? We’ve avoided capture by the skin of our teeth, we have no idea how to get away, the Germans are pouring into Belgium, thousands will be killed and you want to know if I showered her with gifts. Why don’t we concentrate on getting out of here and then you will be free of me?  Now for Christ’s sake leave it alone.’

‘You want to get up and walk away?’ her voice dripped scorn. ‘Did I walk away from that lonely, empty life, in that big lonely house? Making excuses to your children, visiting neighbours on my own. Did I show such contempt for my marriage vows?’

‘You forgot to mention entertaining Charlton in my home,’ he snarled and flinched as Gabrielle’s hand slapped his face.

‘Yes, your home.’ Gabrielle yelled. ‘I may have lived there and given birth to your children there, but it was always your home. I pray to God we will return to England and you can enjoy your home with your expensive treacherous harlots!’  Her hands clenched into fists. ‘Yes! Brian did share my bed. You were never there, you couldn’t care less about me or our children, you were so besotted with that German harlot’s devious charms you had no idea what was going on. She was exceptionally clever, and you were exceptionally stupid.

Adrian rubbed his cheek and pointed his finger at her. ‘If you hit me again, you will be sorry. You want to know what she was like. She had long wavy auburn hair, a figure that made men’s eyes water and yes, she had expertise in the bedroom. She could drink me under the table and she could discuss politics like a man. She was exceptionally clever and yes you are right, I was exceptionally stupid, because I hadn’t a clue she was German or she’d bedded a cabinet minister or she’d been on other assignments for your uncle. I hope I’ve answered all your questions and I don’t give a damn whether you believe me or not, but I’m bloody ashamed of myself. And I hope to God we’ll get back to England, so you can do whatever you want and I won’t have to listen to your harping sarcastic tongue. Are you happy now?

‘Oh yes, very happy, thank you. Who wouldn’t be, sitting with you on the damp ground beside a canal without food or clean clothes,’ her eyes glittered with contempt, ‘How does it feel that you, a cabinet minister and my uncle shared her? I wonder if she kept an inventory of her jewellery and gifts to remember who gave her what.’

He pulled his feet from the water and stood up. ‘I’m not listening to your ranting, nor am I waiting here for them to find me.’

‘You can’t face the truth, can you?’ she shouted at him. ‘Well, unpleasant as it is, you need me and I need you to survive. When we reach safety, you can go back to the life you enjoyed with your sophisticated women without the inconvenience of an unwanted wife.  And if we get out of here, I don’t want anything from you. Not even a Christmas card.’ Her lip curled.  ‘A gentleman never breaks a business contract, but it’s of no consequence to break your marriage vows.’

Adrian reached down and roughly pulled her up to face him, his eyes black with fury.

‘I can’t face the truth? It’s a pity you didn’t meet and marry that useless fop Charlton eight years ago, because he’d have been the target for your sainted uncle’s lunacy instead of me!  Christ, you haven’t shut up about your miserable marriage but look where it’s got me!  Stitched up like a bloody weaver’s loom, set up as a traitor, hiding like a fugitive. And why?  Because I had the temerity to marry you!’ He turned his back and hobbled over to the grazing horse. ‘I’m leaving, are you coming with me or staying here?’

Gabrielle’s face mirrored the shock she felt at Adrian’s words. Her foot lashed out sending a small log into the water and she walked up to Adrian, her fists clenched, then without warning she burst into tears.

‘I have no choice.’ Her voice was raw with emotion. ‘All I want is to get out of Belgium and go back to my children and never see you again!’

Adrian gripped her arms, his fingers digging into her flesh. ‘You’ll get your bloody freedom one way or the other. If we get out of this, I’ll gladly give it. If I’m shot, you can play the grieving widow for a day or two. Now shut up and help me get this horse into the shafts.’

He heaved himself into the driving seat, knowing damn well they were suffering huge reactions to the events they had witnessed. His insides were ripped apart enough without her rubbing his face in it again and again. How could he have been so bloody naive?  It wouldn’t matter how loudly he protested his innocence, the fact remained his mistress had wheedled far too much information from him and a senior government minister named Edmund. Good God! Sir Edmund Charters! Close to the Prime Minister, related to the Foreign Minister. That old fool must be nearly seventy and you, Bryce, are the biggest fool of them all.

Jan

Jan Selbourne was born and educated in Melbourne, Australia and her love of literature and history began as soon as she learned to read and hold a pen. After graduating from a Melbourne Business College her career began in the dusty world of ledgers and accounting, working in Victoria, Queensland and the United Kingdom. On the point of retiring, she changed course to work as secretary of a large NSW historical society. Now retired Jan is enjoying her love of travelling and literature. She has two children, a stray live in cat and lives near Maitland, New South Wales.

Contact Jan:
https://www.facebook.com/jan.selbourne/
https://twitter.com/JanSelbourne
https://www.linkedin.com/in/jan-selbourne-2817b6140/
https://nomadauthors.com/

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Best price, all the way! #MFRWauthor

Buying a carJack and I have only bought two new cars in our nearly 50 years together. But whether we buy new or used, we aren’t “brand” buyers. I know people who would only buy a Ford or Chevy, but we’re equal opportunity buyers. If the car is right and the price is right, we’ll bite. Frankly, I don’t care who built the car I buy. I want it to go from point A to point B with the minimum of trouble and discomfort. If it does that, I’m happy.

The two new cars we bought were a Datsuns (later Nissan). That was 1984, I think. We kept that new Datsun over 13 years, and it was still running well enough for a man to buy for his daughter to drive back and forth to college.

The other new car was a Jeep Eagle. A friend of ours in Kansas City said he had test driven one while visiting his parents in Florida. He raved about it. Because he wanted to go and see one at the Jeep lot in KC, we went along out of curiosity.

We all went for a test drive, and I drove first. We’d been truckers, remember, so I wasn’t afraid to put the car to the test. We found an empty parking lot. I took it into tight curves, did a sharp U-turn, hit the gas and then hit the brakes hard, went slightly off pavement and then back on. The salesman paled with the first hard stop, but Jack assured him I knew what I was doing. The car performed flawlessly. Plus, it had a small exterior that hid a very roomy interior.

We went back to Virginia for a visit, just for kicks stopped by the Jeep Buying a new cardealership in Richmond. When we returned to KC it was with a brand new Jeep Eagle. They didn’t make many of them or for very long, more’s the pity. We loved our Eagle, and only gave it up when we moved to San Francisco and having a car—any car—was so very impractical.

Other than those two cars, we’ve owned a Ford, two other Jeeps, a Volkswagen, a Chevy van, and a Subaru. Jack’s normal way of buying a car is to find a local very small dealer, or to ask a dealer about a decent car they had taken in on trade but hadn’t spent the time or money to repair or clean up. That’s how we got the Subaru, and it turned out to be a great car.

As in anything, brand doesn’t guarantee quality. Only quality guarantees quality, and you can get that with a brand or not. Have you developed a brand loyalty for vehicles?

Read the next blog in the blog hop by going here.

Dee
Burning Bridges by Anne Krist

One Woman Only
Only a Good Man Will Do
Naval Maneuvers

Ambition vs Love #MFRWHooks

This is a blog hop. Be sure to check the link at the bottom to see posts from other authors!

Only a Good Man Will Do by Dee S. KnightBlurb:
Seriously ambitious man seeks woman to encourage his goals, support his (hopeful) position as Headmaster of Westover Academy, and be purer than Caesar’s wife. Good luck with that!

Daniel Goodman is a man on a mission. He aims to become headmaster of Westover Academy. For that he needs a particular, special woman to help him set high standards. Into his cut and dried life of moral and upright behavior, comes Eve Star, formerly one of Europe’s foremost exotic dancers. Her life is anything but cut and dried, black and white. Daniel is drawn to her like a kid to chocolate. Nothing good can come of this attraction. Or can it? He is after all, a good man.

Buy link:
Kindle Unlimited

MFRW Book HooksExcerpt:
Daniel stopped at an open doorway and watched Eve cuddle a snuffling child on her lap.

“It’s okay, my darling, I’m here.”

Quickly, the child stopped stirring and Eve placed him back in bed.
“Mama loves her baby,” she said in a low voice.

Daniel stepped uninvited into the room and walked to the dresser. A framed photo of a smiling dark-haired man caught his eye. “Your husband?” He studied the photo.

“Timmy’s father.” She brushed the boy’s hair from his forehead and then came to stand beside Daniel.

She fidgeted, shifting her weight from foot to foot. “Let’s go. He’s asleep now.”

Something about the photo wasn’t right. The man looked familiar, maybe an actor or… In a flash of disbelief, he removed the backing from the frame.

“Wait—” She reached out, but too late to keep Daniel from seeing the printing at the bottom of the folded page indicating the frame was sized four by six and cost nine-ninety-five. God damn. She had kept the picture that came with the frame to show Timothy his “father.” What kind of woman was this?

There was no sign a man lived there, but Sydney had said she was a widow. She was definitely raising her boy alone. But why not display a real photo of Timmy’s father, her husband? For some reason, maybe because he couldn’t imagine a guy stupid enough to let Eve Star go, he’d bet she’d never been married.

First, she stripped and now this. She was hiding something. Maybe a great deal, and none of it good.

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