Tag: Lies of Gold

So many lies, so much gold #MFRWHooks

Lies of Gold by Jan SelbourneBlurb:
Silent, ruthless, protected by an unknown ally in Whitehall, he smuggles gold across the Channel to Bonaparte. When flimsy evidence points to the Essex coast, three men are given secret orders to find these traitors. One of those men, Julian Ashford, has his life transformed into debts and disgrace and sent back to Halton Hall, and Katherine the woman he loved and lost. What Julian discovers within the walls of his ancestral home is much deeper and more sinister than he thought possible, but nothing could prepare him for the betrayal when he finally faces the mastermind behind this sordid operation.

Buy links:
Amazon
Goodreads
B&N

MFRW Book HooksExcerpt:
He turned the horse to the left and settled into an easy canter. They rounded a bend which he didn’t remember and a quarter of a mile ahead was the narrow road dividing the estate from the tenanted farms. He now knew where he was, but everything looked different. He reminded himself again that local scenery was the last thing on a twelve years old boy’s mind. When they came to the stream the horse dropped its head to drink and the first drops of rain fell.

“Christ, that’s all we need, a bloody soaking.” He’d have to ride back to where they’d emerged onto the grassy slope. His grandfather had shown good sense leasing his land but he’d made it plain he didn’t have to look at his lowly tenant farmers. Not only had he forbidden them to use the estate road, he’d ordered a wall be built along that end of his land. After strong protests, he grudgingly agreed to build a narrow apology of a road to meet the village road so they could take their produce to market. He’d then ordered them to show their gratitude by building a drystone wall on their side, to make it ‘visually pleasing’.

Julian vaguely remembered a gate in the estate wall and hoped he was right. The rain was falling in earnest as he urged the horse along the narrow, rutted road and almost missed it behind the thick ivy. Dismounting, he pushed aside the green blanket and swore. The gate was rusted and jammed. Remounting they continued and he shook his head in confusion. Ahead was another gate in the wall and for the life of him, he couldn’t remember it. He dismounted again, this gate was secured with a thick chain and lock on the inside. As he turned away a sliver of shiny metal in the wet earth caught his eye.  Reaching down he picked up a small crucifix.

“What the hell?” he muttered then his eyes went to the lock. Despite the rain he had to try. His fingers reached through the bars of the gate to insert the long end of the crucifix into the lock and, concentrating intently, he moved it gently. “Oh, come on!” He eased it around the inside workings again and it suddenly gave way.

“Well done, you haven’t lost your touch,” he congratulated himself, led the horse through and locked it behind him.

The rain fell steadily as they approached a semi- circle of poplars and he tightened the reins. Ahead of him was the rear of the Dower House.  His childhood home. Urging the horse through the poplars, he stared dumbfounded at the sagging, derelict building. Weeds and grass had almost taken over what remained of the small stone wall surrounding the house and the large pathway between the flower beds and rockeries had disappeared under a tangle of ground creepers and debris. A thick blanket of ivy had worked its way over most of the house and covered the chimneys. The glass had long gone from the gaping windows. The remains of the front portico were sagging and roof shingles lay scattered on the ground.

Julian remembered the Dower House was creaky, draughty and damp but this was a disgrace. Why hadn’t Charles ordered it knocked down? He led the horse to the crumbling remains of the stables and they stood huddled against the wall until the rain increased and the dripping from above became a stream. Pushing the horse further in, he ran to the house and pushed against the front door. After a protesting squeal of rusty hinges, the door gave way and scraped against the warped floorboards. He stepped into a large puddle on the hallway floor, peeling walls and the smell of decay.

“Christ, what a mess.”

The room on his right, once his mother’s sitting room, was littered with dead leaves and debris blown in through the gaping windows. Pushing open the door on the opposite side of the hallway, he stopped dead. Although the room was dark he could see straw mattresses covering most of the floor.  His eyes adjusted to the gloom showing him a table covered with tin plates and mugs and beside the fireplace freshly cut wood was stacked. Boards now covered what was once the window. Feeling vulnerable without a weapon, Julian backed out into the hallway, paused, then walked to the bottom of the staircase. Looking up to the floor above shrouded in darkness, he continued through the narrow hallway leading to the servants’ quarters and kitchen.

The hairs lifted from the nape of his neck. Wood was stacked on both sides of the huge fireplace and black cooking pots hung from the iron crossbar in the chimney. He turned and walked swiftly back through the house and out to the crumbling stables. It could very well be smugglers or poachers using the derelict building but his instincts were screaming that it wasn’t. The rain showed no signs of abating so he remounted and guided the horse along the now overgrown carriageway between the avenue of dripping trees leading to the park and the warmth of Halton Hall stables. He’d return to the Dower House again tonight.

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:
Website: https://nomadauthors.com/JanSelbourne/index.html

Blog: http://nomadauthors.com/blog

Twitter: http://twitter.com/JanSelbourne

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/jan.selbourne

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/14661584.Jan_Selbourne?from_search=true

Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/Jan-Selbourne/e/B0184OSZ6E/ref=ntt_dp_epwbk_0

Newsletter: https://landing.mailerlite.com/webforms/landing/h8t2y6

LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/jan-selbourne-2817b6140/

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Spies, lies, and lovely 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 Selbourne

Lies of Gold–Winner of Silver for Best Historical Book 2019 (Coffee Pot Book Club)

Blurb:
Silent, ruthless, protected by an unknown ally in Whitehall, he smuggles gold across the Channel to Napoleon Bonaparte. When flimsy evidence points to the Essex coast, three men are given secret orders to find the traitor. One of those men, Julian Ashford, has his life transformed into debts and disgrace and sent back to Halton Hall, and Katherine the woman he loved and lost. What Julian discovers within the walls of his ancestral home is much deeper and more sinister than he thought possible, but nothing could prepare him for the betrayal when he finally faces the mastermind behind this sordid operation.

Best Historical Book Silver medalBuy links:
Amazon https://www.amazon.com/s?k=lies+of+gold+jan+selbourne&crid=ZPCFE9GJ8D80&sprefix=lies+of+gold+%2Caps%2C351&ref=nb_sb_ss_ac-a-p_1_13

Barnes & Noble https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/lies-of-gold-jan-selbourne/1126283045?ean=9781945146268

Goodreads https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/35084198-lies-of-gold?ac=1&from_search=true&qid=gHqpV4JA7O&rank=1

MFRW Book HooksExcerpt:
Major Julian Ashford’ looked up at the yellowing plaster ceiling and down to the clock above the mantelpiece. Thirty minutes ago, he’d entered the cluster of buildings under the control of The Secretary of State for War and walked up one flight of stairs to the office of Brigadier Sir Ian MacDonald. A corporal had pointed to a wooden bench and the clock continued to tick. Julian drew a deep breath and studied his boots.

When MacDonald finally turned around, the full force of the old soldier’s legendary temper hit him like a brick. The furious tirade continued until MacDonald stopped for breath and picked up a sheet of paper.

“Now this,” the offending item was flapped in Julian’s face. “You were drunk at a respectable gaming establishment and damn near killed a Spanish diplomat, a Spanish nobleman no less. With Napoleon Bonaparte mobilizing again and Europe on edge I cannot believe your utter stupidity.”

Julian glared at the man who had always reminded him of a powerful lion. Large and muscular with a mane of iron grey hair and fierce eyes that never wavered from their prey.

“Who claimed I nearly killed a Spanish diplomat?”

“His aide, you threatened him as well.”

Julian shrugged and looked at the floor. “The Spaniard was cheating at cards.  I demanded to see his hand, he refused so I challenged him to go outside for satisfaction.”

“You broke his nose and three ribs and knocked him senseless,” MacDonald’s fist slammed into the desk. “I am thoroughly ashamed of you. Your debts go back over twelve months and now the Jews refuse you credit. One damned scandal after the other. I’m told you had sex with Rutherford’s wife in her sitting room while he was upstairs playing cards!”

“Rutherford’s wife was more than willing. What would you have done? Refuse the lady?” Julian scowled at the Brigadier. “Who fed that juicy snippet into your waiting ears?”

“I will not tolerate your insolence, sir! You are a disgrace to your regiment.”

“I’m no longer in the regiment,” Julian snapped. “Don’t prose on about it.”

MacDonald’s face turned dark red. “You deserve to rot in a cell,” he picked up a thick folder. “Your service records. The only reason I am begging their Lordships’ indulgence to keep you out of Newgate. I have decided you will return to Halton Hall and remain there until the Spaniard recovers and your string of scandals die down,” he glowered at Julian. “For your sake, I hope the Spaniard recovers.”

Julian thumped his fist on MacDonald’s desk. “I will not return to Halton Hall.”

“It is your ancestral home and nobody else would want you.”

“I don’t care if it’s the home of my ancestors nor do I care if the late Earl of Ballingford and the moronic Honourable Martin Ashford are my cousins, I will not return there. Nor can you make me.”

MacDonald’s cold eyes met Julian’s. “I can and I am. Your family name and my influence stand between you and a long stretch behind bars or seven years in the New South Wales penal colony.” MacDonald’s eyebrows rose. “Why so reluctant?  Ballingford’s dead. His brother is now in residence as guardian of the children and estates until the young Earl reaches his majority. I have dispatched a letter to Martin Ashford, I don’t expect him to refuse me.”

“You’ve already told Martin?” Julian exploded. “Have I no choice in this matter?”

“No, unless you want me to personally deliver you to the prison’s welcoming arms.” MacDonald glared irritably at the corporal and clerk behind him. “Why are you still here? Don’t you have anything better to do?”

Their eyes darted between MacDonald and Julian. “You told us to wait, Brigadier,” the corporal stammered.

“Well, get out.”

“Yes, off you go gentlemen,” Julian sneered. “I am having a small wager with myself on how long it will take for you to spread this new morsel around Town. Forty-eight hours? You’ll put the gossipy washerwomen to shame.”

MacDonald returned to his desk. “Get out of my sight, Major Ashford. I’ve washed my hands of you.” He waited until they were alone before speaking softly “Take great care, Julian. Don’t let your guard down for a minute.”

About 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.

https://www.facebook.com/jan.selbourne/

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https://www.linkedin.com/in/jan-selbourne-2817b6140/

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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.

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Awards and affirmation: BVS’s talented authors

AwardWhat’s in an Award? Maybe just what you need to keep going.

If you’ve spent much time reading Black Velvet Seductions authors, you know you’re delving into some pretty good stuff. I’m not saying that because I’m one of their authors, though it’s always special when you feel you’re among really good company. And that’s how I’ve felt ever since Richard Savage accepted my first BVS book, Naval Maneuvers. The company is a class act all the way, and their writers prove that with each new release. I’d like to highlight two friends at BVS who recently won awards for their books. If you haven’t read either of these ladies, you really should.

Jan Selbourne

Jan writes historical fiction, some very romantic and some more plot driven then romance driven. Either way, this woman has a way with words that will draw you in and make you stay up late reading. Jan won 5 stars and recognition for two of her books last year at Coffee Pot Book Club. One of those books, Lies of Gold, won Silver for historical book of 2019! Although Lies of Gold isn’t a BVS book, one of Jan’s very best books, I think, is: Perilous Love. It’s one of my favorites! But really, with Jan, you can’t go wrong!

Book: Lies of Gold
Silver medal for Historical Book of the Year, 2019
Awarded by: The Coffee Pot Book Club
Date of award: December 3rd, 2019

Here’s what Jan has to say about winning her award.

NA: What was your first reaction when you saw that you’d finaled in a Lies of Gold by Jan Selbournecontest and then won?
JS: I did receive a senior school prize for best short story, but I think mum and dad were more excited than I was. Fast forward to now – or should I say 2019, when my book The Proposition was given a wonderful review and 5 Stars Award by Mary Anne Yarde, Coffee Pot Book Club. Encouraged, I submitted Lies of Gold to Mary Anne and was thrilled to receive a glowing review and 5 Stars Award. I thought that was it until her email in November informing me Lies of Gold was a finalist in the 2019 Book of the Year – Historical Romance category. We would be informed of the results in early December. My first reaction? Stunned. When that email appeared in my Inbox I was too nervous to look. Closed my eyes, deep breath, hit the mouse, opened my eyes to read the words Silver Medal. Lies of Gold had been awarded Silver Medal! I was speechless – and that doesn’t happen often.

NA: How did your family/friends react?
JS: They were really pleased and like me, surprised – wow.

NA: What was the result of your winning the award (i.e., did you make any changes in the way you wrote or what you wrote; did you try to emulate the winning book/story instead of trying new things, etc.)?
JS: The result was a real shot in the arm for me. Promoting and marketing can be tough. However this award convinced me I must be doing something right. Don’t stop writing!

Alice Renaud

If you enjoy fantasy and magic mixed amongst your romance, you should definitely read Alice Renaud’s Sea of Love series. Her writing is so engaging, and she can paint a picture with words that few others can. Her third book in the series is coming out this year from BVS and I’m saving a place on my Kindle for it! Either of the two current books in the series (A Merman’s Choice and Music for a Merman) can stand alone, so dig in with the first or the second. Alice won the award for the series—quite an accomplishment!

Sea of Love series by Alice RenaudSeries: Sea of Love
Best Paranormal Series, 2019
Awarded by: The Paranormal Romance Guild
Date of award: January 2020

Here’s Alice’s reaction to her winning.

NA: What was your first reaction when you saw that you’d finaled in a contest and then won?
AR: Incredulity – I never thought my first book A Merman’s Choice and the series it’s part of, Sea of Love, would be nominated – let alone win!

NA: How did your family/friends react?
AR: My husband was very proud. My friends were impressed – I think they began to realize this writing lark could be a serious thing for me.

NA: What was the result of your winning the award (i.e., did you make any changes in the way you wrote or what you wrote; did you try to emulate the winning book/story instead of trying new things, etc.)?
AR: Mainly it motivated me to keep on writing – I was beginning to get discouraged because I wasn’t selling many books and thought maybe the books weren’t any good and perhaps I should just give up. It proved my writing was good. I started a new series, Conjuring Love, which is different in content and style from the Sea of Love series.

I guess I’ll slide in here, too. Last year my book, Only a Good Man Will Do, won a prize from the Las Vegas Romance Writers. It thrilled me to death, and I’m very grateful for their recognition. I’ve won a few contests before, including the Maggie Award of Excellence from the Georgia Romance Writers and it’s always an exciting surprise. But I had taken a few years off from writing, and this was just my second book since trying to come back. Maybe that’s why it was so thrilling. Whatever, the reason, thanks to the LVRW for giving me this honor!

Only a Good Man Will Do by Dee S. KnightBook: Only a Good Man Will Do (Book 1 of the Good Man series)
I Heart Indie, Best Erotic Romance of 2019
Awarded by: Las Vegas Romance Writers
Date of award: September 1, 2019

Here’s what I thought.

NA: What was your first reaction when you saw that you’d finaled in a contest and then won?
DSK: I was shocked. And then I jumped up and down and texted my husband right away.

NA: How did your family/friends react?
DSK: Jack was as happy for me as I was for myself. He knew how hard it had been for me to get back into writing. In his own way he’d nudged and cajoled, so I think he’s taken credit for the award. 😉

NA: What was the result of your winning the award (i.e., did you make any changes in the way you wrote or what you wrote; did you try to emulate the winning book/story instead of trying new things, etc.)?
DSK: As Alice said, we’re our own worst enemies. When there is not a lot of recognition—especially sales and lots of followers and such—it’s easy to feel you don’t deserve to be recognized because you aren’t good enough. It’s easier now to cut myself a little slack and admit that maybe I am good at what I try to do.

That’s the main point I want to end with. There are others at BVS who have won awards with their work (but were to shy to say so here). Some writers there maybe haven’t won an award award, but they’ve received recognition for their writing in other ways, through great sales or love notes from their fans and such. An award doesn’t matter that much in the long run. It’s the love of the readers and the joy of being able to do what we love. Those are awards enough.

Check out some wonderful writers at BVS and see how great reading can be.

Lies of Gold takes SILVER: Best Historical Book, 2019!!

Lies of Gold by Jan Selbourne

Coffee Pot Book Club awarded Lies of Gold and our Jan Selbourne SILVER place in the Best Historical Book Awards, 2019! If you’ve ever wondered if a book deserved an award, put your doubts aside for this novel. Here are just a sampling of Jan’s reviews:

“Just finished Lies of Gold and was completely blown away.” Author Judith G White

“Lies of Gold is not only an absorbing and heart-warming romance, but it is also a grand adventure, filled with deplorable villains and likeable rogues. I cannot praise this book enough. I enjoyed every minute of it.

If you are looking for your next Historical Romance read, then do yourself a favour and check out Lies of Gold. You won’t be disappointed.

I Highly Recommend.” Mary Anne Yarde, The Coffee Pot Book Club

“I loved this fast paced, edge of your seat murder mystery romance combination page burner of a read. The emotions the characters depicted were outstanding. The hero and heroine without a doubt compatible. The story line flowed brilliantly. It was as if you were watching in on a big screen. Lies of Gold is an absolute must read!” Tricia Davis. Historical Romance Addicts

“I was truly drawn into this story of romance, adventure and suspense. The characters were rich and deep and the storyline was captivating. Lies of Gold is a the best historical romance novel I’ve read in years! I look forward to reading more of Jan Selbourne’s books in the future. Well done!!!” Betty Ann Harris

“I didn’t want the book to end I wanted more time with the characters. That to me is. the definition of a fantastic book.” Carol Rising

“IF ALL HISTORICAL FICTION WERE THIS GOOD, I’D NEVER READ ANOTHER GENRE!… This is top-notch writing by a gifted writer who has an undying fan in me. Bravo Jan Selbourne.” Viga Boland, author No Tears for my Father”

And there are many more reviews equally as sterling. Trust me, no one gets reviews like this unless their writing is tight, their historical reference is accurate, and their storytelling is superb!

Christmas gift Lies of Gold

I asked Jan about winning the SILVER award.

NA: Jan, how did you feel when you discovered you’d been nominated for Best Historical Book?
JS: Stunned. No other word for it. Last March the Coffee Pot Book Club gave Lies of Gold a fabulous review and I was thrilled to bits Mary Anne Yarde liked my story enough to award it Book of the Month. I thought that was the end of it until her email last month telling me Lies of Gold was a finalist in her book of the year awards.. I had no idea it was considered for any award.

NA: What about the morning the awards were announced?
JS: I’ll be honest, I hesitated opening my Inbox. To read I’d been awarded the Historical Book of the Year’s Silver medal was incredible I stared at the email in awe.

NA: What do you think it was about Lies of Gold that fascinated readers and won the award?
JS: I wanted my characters to be real people with flaws, who’ve made mistakes and have to live with them. In Lies of Gold my main characters had a brief torrid affair in their twenties, they parted in anger and the consequences were harsh. When they met again ten years later they were, like all of us, very different people. When writing historical fiction, I believe authors should try to provide an accurate as possible background of their era of choice. We can’t drop our hero and heroine into the Tudor period, or the Regency period and hope for the best. We must portray those eras warts and all. For instance, the Regency period was a renaissance of architecture, culture and fashion – and rigid class distinction, poverty and brutal penal system. In Lies of Gold I highlighted the unjust marriage laws of that time. A woman was the property of her husband with very few rights.

Jan, I’m incredibly happy for you and proud of you! Congratulations on your award!

Best Historical Book Silver medal

Blurb:
Their love affair ended in anger and painful consequences. Lady Katherine Ashford has guarded a secret through years of abuse. Fighting wars and hard living has numbed Julian Ashford. Then fate steps in. A traitor is smuggling gold across the Channel to Napoleon Bonaparte and Julian is ordered back to Halton Hall and Katherine. It’s her secret and the increasing danger that rekindle the love they once shared, then a murder reveals the shocking truth of the gold smuggling. However, nothing could prepare them for the devastating betrayal when they finally face the mastermind behind this sordid operation.

Jan Selbourne books

Excerpt:
Julian walked out of the drawing room and 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.

Julian stretched his feet towards the fire, remembering 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.

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About Jan:
Jan SelbourneJan 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.

Website: Nomad Authors
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Lust Scenes vs Sexy Scenes in Romances

I recently wrote a post as a guest blogger on Night Owl Reviews about the difference between lust scenes—those with loving but not very explicit physical content—and sexy scenes with much more explicit descriptions. The scenes in my own books are not too detailed when the hero and heroine climb between the sheets. Though I don’t mind reading sexier books (and even enjoy it if the writing is good), I have to write what I’m comfortable with. Instead of focusing on the physical relationship between characters, I like to spend my words with drama, suspense, and mystery, as my three books show.

Perilous Love takes place in Belgium at the beginning of the first World War and tells about a husband and wife who have grown apart but who find themselves trapped as the Germans invade the country. While their physical relationship is not the emphasis, the suspense and danger in which they find themselves pulls them together. The question is, do they find love or just a respite from the hazards surrounding them?

Trafficking of slaves and gold smuggled to Napoleon carry the day in Lies of Gold. Again, the main characters are drawn together due to happenstance but their physicality takes a back seat to the intrigue and mystery behind the gold and murder. It’s not that going to bed together is unimportant, it’s just that intimate details are left more to the reader’s imagination while they sort out who is a treason to England.

Finally, The Proposition is another tale of World War I and centers around lies, a family’s dysfunction, and murder. While the main characters fall into bed, the door is closed with the Do Not Disturb sign pretty clear. That doesn’t mean that their sexual attraction is ignored, just that it’s not the main focus of the book.

This is a taste of my blog post. I hope you will hop on over to Night Owl Reviews and read the real thing!

Thanks–
Jan Selbourne
When history whispers, I pass it on!
Perilous Love
Lies of Gold
The Proposition