New release

A vivid romance set in a time of war and upheaval - Scotland in 1034.

https://tinyurl.com/ycyymrmq (US)

https://tinyurl.com/ybq33rgp (UK)

https://tinyurl.com/yde39g4c (AU)

EXCERPT:
Finlay listened with half an ear as Ross and Gille talked about the day’s hunting, but his thoughts centred on Thorfinn. The energetic and impulsive fourteen-year-old he had known was now a man reputed for sea warfare and unlikely to make casual suggestions about anything to do with land, power or the proposed marriage of a half-sister.

With his elbows on the board behind him, he stretched his damp deer hide boots towards the fire. The mouth-watering aroma of meat stew drifted to his nostrils from the large, sooty cauldron that spun gently on the chain above the fire pit.

Gille fell silent, his blue stare unwavering on someone or something behind Finlay. Ross stared in the same direction. Finlay turned his head so fast his neck bones cracked and gained a fleeting impression of a tall, willowy young woman with dark hair. From her gown, posture and self-confidence, she could only be Ratagan, Thorfinn’s half-sister.

He sat up straight.

“I thought you said she was toothy?” Ross muttered.

There was no time to reply. Greeting her half-brother, she then walked over to greet them. Dark hair knotted high on the back of her head accentuated large eyes and a pointed chin, and her perfect profile took Finlay’s breath away. He scrambled to his feet as she greeted them one by one. “Have we met before, Gille?”

“I would have remembered,” he said.

Her smile widened. “How odd. I remember Ross and Finlay from visits to Inverness. All those long speeches about honour. That was you, wasn’t it?” She arched her eyebrows at Finlay, who said nothing because she had glided forward and laid her smooth cheek against his jaw. The coldness of gold pressed against his fire-warmed skin. Perfume lingered in the air when she stepped back. “I remember Hareth, and Kilda, too,” she said. “How is Kilda?”

Either she was unaware of the situation, or she baited him. He suspected the latter. Ross answered swiftly. “Gille married her not a month since.”

Her speculative gaze turned from Finlay to Gille. Whatever she thought, she said only “You must be sad to separate so soon.”

TUDOR ENGLAND, STEWART SCOTLAND

Queen's Courier is now available in paperback as well as on Kindle. Here's the blurb and an excerpt for your enjoyment:

TUDOR ENGLAND, STEWART 

SCOTLAND

The courageous Dowager Queen of 

Scotland works to preserve the throne for her daughter Mary against the machinations of Henry Tudor and greedy Scottish nobles.

Meg Douglas, twenty-eight and still 

unmarried, prays that uncle Henry will finally relent and give permission for Mathew, Lord Lennox, to travel south and marry her before it is too late and her guilty secret is discovered.

Matho Spirston, newly appointed courier to Lord Wharton, 

sets out on a mission north of the border believing it will give him the opportunity to bring south his beloved Phoebe. Unhappily for them all, disaster threatens when war breaks out between the two countries.

EXCERPT:

"The Dowager Queen of Scotland sat at a small card table set on the raised dais in Stirling’s Great Hall and tapped her toes in time to the music. For once her courtiers smiled at one another, and in the centre of it all, the blushing bridal couple seemed dazed with happiness.

In contrast, Arran perched on his stool like a black crow sitting out a rain shower and stared down at his cards.

“Be of good cheer, my lord Governor,” Marie urged him. “It is not every day one of my ladies celebrates her wedding.”

Arran grunted. “Aye, that’s true enough. The Treasury gives thanks for it.” His gaze hovered accusingly at the level of her chin. “Madam, we cannot go on spending on such frivolities.”

Marie smiled, stretched across the card table and patted his hand. “I cannot resist. They are such happy occasions. But you may take comfort in the thought that there will be no more weddings among my ladies in the coming months.”

She turned to observe the dancers. Candle and firelight glimmered on pearls and gems, slid across silks and brocades. Gold frozen into heavy chains gleamed against rich velvets of the gentlemen’s attire, adding colour and depth to the scene.

“Your servants constantly wish to marry, madam.”

He made it sound like a reproach. Could the man not enjoy the beautiful sight of couples executing the intricate steps of the dance without thinking of money? Rarely did Scotland remind her of the French court, but tonight there had been a hint of a similar grandeur and beauty in the great hall. Now Arran’s meanness threatened to spoil the evening."

and here's the link:

http://tinyurl.com/gqfz3en or US 

http://tinyurl.com/jo93rr6

Queen's Courier by Jen Black

New release 31st July 2016

Q

Against a background of political intrigue and Tudor violence, love is not easy to find or sustain. The Queen Dowager of Scotland repudiates it and for both Matho and Meg the struggle is made more difficult by an outbreak of war between England and Scotland. Disaster looms for them all.....

It has taken a while, but this story is now available on Amazon Kindle.

While it continues the story of Matho, Meg and the Queen Dowager of Scotland, it isn't a sequel in the sense that you need to read Abduction of the Scots Queen, or Fair Border Bride, where Matho first appears.

In Queen's Courier Matho undertakes his first solo mission for Sir Thomas Wharton and sees an opportunity to complete his business and then bring his chosen Scots bride south to his home. The complicated feuds of the Scots entangle him in the siege of Lord Lennox where he is recognised and imprisonment awaiting an interview with the Queen Dowager follows; she sees an opportunity to use him to her advantage.

Meg rides south to the court of Henry Tudor in expectation of Lord Lennox joining her. As the weeks roll by without him, she begins to wonder if she will ever marry, or if she will bear a bastard child and face Henry's wrath alone.

EXCERPT:

“Harbottle? What in God’s name d’ ye want to go there for?” A goblet of wine half-way to his mouth, Archibald Douglas, sixth Earl of Angus, stared at his daughter as if she were an imbecile.

“I want to see where I was born.” Meg took her place at table beside her father. “Why is that so silly?”

“The place is stuck in the middle of nowhere, lass, that’s why. There’s a sad excuse for a castle perched above a rocky burn and  a hell of a long ride to anywhere. It’ll be raining,” he added morosely. “It was ever raining when I was there.”

Meg chose to ignore the steadily increasing flesh that had all but buried the handsome bones of his face. Loving him did not mean, however, that she agreed with everything he said and did. “As I understand it, you weren’t there very long.”

Angus banged the goblet on the table, anger in his drawn brows, but before he could speak, Meg followed up her attack. “You can’t deny you left your wife there to bear a child and rode off to further your own concerns.”

“Your mother was as hare-brained then as ye are today. Who do ye think had to safeguard what property we had and talk sweetly to Henry of England?” Angus roared his displeasure. “Not your mother, even though Henry was her brother. She expected everything to happen as she wished.”

“Well, why not?” Meg lifted her chin.

“Och, aye.” His eyebrows rose, causing furrows in his forehead. “I didna notice ye an’ James were on such good terms. It’s no’ that simple, Meg. Use your head for a change.”

He had a point. Her half-brother Jamie had never truly accepted her, no matter how much she tried to win his friendship. She softened her tone. “I don’t see what harm it can do, to visit the place where I was born. I’m curious, that’s all.”

“Ye’ll put yersel’ on a platter for the rabble that infests the Borders.” Angus waggled a warning finger under her nose. “If they snatch ye, a demand for ransom won’t be the worst thing ye face. Most sensible folk would take an escort and head for Berwick.”

“I shall be perfectly safe, Father. When you join the Dowager’s train tomorrow, I shall also leave. The English Warden will meet me at the border and escort me south. A courier has gone on ahead. It is all arranged.” She leant forward, and laid her hand on the velvet of his sleeve. “Don’t worry about me. After all, I am half-English and the king’s niece.”

http://tinyurl.com/gqfz3en or US

http://tinyurl.com/jo93rr6

 

 

The Craigsmuir Affair

"Ms Black delivers an excellently executed classic romance firmly rooted in a beautifully depicted

historical setting. The last few years of the 19^th century come vividly alive, and both Daisy and Adam rise above the clichéd cut-outs to become characters it is easy to relate to and care for. The plot is well-constructed, the dialogue is enjoyable, the villains are agreeably villainous, and all in all this is a book warmly recommended for those who enjoy a well-written historical romance." Historical Novel Sciety reviews, Anna Belfraga.

EXCERPT:
He kept his gaze on the hem of her blue silk gown as it slid across the worn carpet. She glanced over her shoulder, then halted in mid-step and laid a graceful hand on the newel post at the foot of the stairs. ‘You don’t suspect I stole the wretched picture, do you? Is that why I am not allowed to go alone to my chamber?’

She was clever, too. It had not taken long for her to make the connection. Adam’s momentum carried him two steps up the staircase before he looked down into her wide eyes and saw the flash of temper there.

‘Oh!’ Her fingers tightened on the post. ‘Once in my room I shall tamper with the evidence. Is that what you think? What a silly idea!’

He looked down from his vantage point. With every breath she took, her breasts rose against the deep blue silk of her gown. His body tightened in response, startling him. Was he mistaken, or did the faint thrum of lust hang in the air?

‘Damn it all,’ he said softly. ‘Can we just collect the wretched lists and be done with it?’

The CRAIGSMUIR AFFAIR, published 20^th July on Amazon kindle.

http://tinyurl.com/plrfnc6

and for the UK -

http://tinyurl.com/nlfwv52

Scottish history

In 1544 Henry Tudor wanted the infant Scots Queen in England, married to his six-year-old son, Edward. Since the Scots won't part with her willingly, he sends out word that there will be a reward for any man who brings her south. Young Englishmen Matho Spirston and his good friend Harry Wharton accept the challenge but Matho falls foul of the king's niece, bold beauty Meg Douglas. She has her own problems and Matho needs his wits and courage to survive in this brutal world of political intrigue. Watching them all and constantly balancing one man against another is Marie de Guise, the widowed Dowager Queen who fears for the safety of her only surviving child, Mary, Queen of Scots.

A fast-paced dramatic story set in Stirling, Scotland in the year 1543.

Excerpt:

Meg Douglas braced her palms on the cold stone windowsill high in the north-west tower and stared out to sea. A mile away, Bass Rock heaved its white, guano-smeared sides out of the indigo water and the usual coronet of seabirds circled its cliffs. Her gaze moved to hills of Fife on the far side of the Forth estuary, where waves hitting the shore threw up a faint haze and hid the beaches from sight.

With a hiss of exasperation, Meg banged the shutter closed and turned back into the small chamber. Father’s summons to this ancient Douglas stronghold had been unwelcome and badly timed. He must know Henry of England had married for the sixth time in July, and a budding court jostled round his new queen. By the time Meg rode south again, the plum positions would have gone and she would face the simpering smiles of the favoured ladies-in-waiting. She would have only King Henry’s erratic generosity to rely upon for the coming year.

Father would not care. Thanks to King Henry’s gold, Father was happily ensconced twenty-five miles from Edinburgh, and as busy as a bee in clover encouraging the populace of Scotland to accept the marriage of their infant Queen to England’s young Prince Edward. He could do it and welcome. She would be polite, even charming, do his bidding and get back to London as soon as possible. Scotland held nothing for her.

‘Margaret? Are ye ready? Daughter?’ Father’s bellow echoed up the spiral stairs from three floors below.

On the long, uncomfortable ride north she had received the unwelcome news that her father had re-married. At fifty-three, for God’s sake, he had wed a girl of eighteen. No doubt the new Countess of Angus would be waiting beyond the curve of the stair.

US Kindle link: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00OZME2DK

UK Kindle link: http://amzn.to/1wQTs7F

Jen Black’s Blog - http://tinyurl.com/kxpedhy

New Release from Jen Black : ABDUCTION OF THE SCOTS QUEEN

Blurb:

Henry Tudor demands the Scots Queen be brought south, by force if necessary, to marry his son. Young Englishman Matho Spirston accepts the challenge only to fall foul of the king's niece, bold beauty Meg Douglas.
She has her own problems with ambitious Lord Lennox. Her trickery forces Matho to use his wits and all his courage to survive in the brutal world of 16th century Scottish politics.
Observing them all is Marie de Guise, the Dowager Queen with a loyalty to France, struggling to protect her daughter's birthright amongst headstrong lords who think any one of them could rule the country better than a mere woman.

A bright, sparkling story with both drama and humour set in sixteenth century Scotland when life was an uncertain thing and death never far away.

Excerpt 1:

‘Spirston, you’ve dealt with forays of Scots across the fells to steal a few cattle and sheep. You know men don’t always return from a raid or a trod. This persuades me the pair of you may have a chance of success. But don’t take this task lightly, either of you.’ He cast a warning glance at his son. ‘It could cost you your lives.’

   ‘Aye.’ On a wave of confidence, Matho flicked his fingers against Harry’s green velvet sleeve. ‘You’d best get out of those fancy duds, Harry. They’ll give you away in a trice. Splurge some money on a less gaudy set of clothes, man.’

   ‘Quite.’ Humour lit Wharton’s eyes. ‘I dare say Harry will be loath to shed his favourite boots. He is ever light-hearted about too many things, Spirston. I’m relying on you to talk sense into him.’

   Matho’s glance fell to the boots in question. While he had never begrudged Harry his expensive clothes, his time at court nor his chantry school education, he stared at the fine brown leather boots with red, turn-down cuffs embossed with tiny gold flowers, and promised himself he would own a similar pair before the year turned. Either that or he wouldn’t be worrying about boots at all.

Excerpt 2:

Meg Douglas braced her palms on the cold stone windowsill high in the north-west tower and stared out to sea. A mile away, Bass Rock heaved its white, guano-smeared sides out of the indigo water and the usual coronet of seabirds circled its cliffs. Her gaze moved to hills of Fife on the far side of the Forth estuary, where waves hitting the shore threw up a faint haze and hid the beaches from sight.

With a hiss of exasperation, Meg banged the shutter closed and turned back into the small chamber. Father’s summons to this ancient Douglas stronghold had been unwelcome and badly timed. He must know Henry of England had married for the sixth time in July, and a budding court jostled round his new queen. By the time Meg rode south again, the plum positions would have gone and she would face the simpering smiles of the favoured ladies-in-waiting. She would have only King Henry’s erratic generosity to rely upon for the coming year.

Father would not care. Thanks to King Henry’s gold, Father was happily ensconced twenty-five miles from Edinburgh, and as busy as a bee in clover encouraging the populace of Scotland to accept the marriage of their infant Queen to England’s young Prince Edward. He could do it and welcome. She would be polite, even charming, do his bidding and get back to London as soon as possible. Scotland held nothing for her.

‘Margaret? Are ye ready? Daughter?’ Father’s bellow echoed up the spiral stairs from three floors below.

On the long, uncomfortable ride north she had received the unwelcome news that her father had re-married. At fifty-three, for God’s sake, he had wed a girl of eighteen. No doubt the new Countess of Angus would be waiting beyond the curve of the stair.

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00OZME2DK

or http://amzn.to/1wQTs7F for the UK link

http://jenblackauthor.blogspot.com

Marry a smuggler?

Smuggling was rife in the eighteenth and well into the nineteenth century among the small hamlets and remote farms of Northumberland. This surprised me when I researched the history of the area in which I wanted to place my heroine, Melanie Grey, and I decided to incorporate such activities into her story. She seemed just the right sort of person to be able to live with such risks, though she tried to persuade the master of Gavington to mend his ways for the sake of his child if not for himself. I've given you the opening lines of the story here, and to find out what happens you'll have to read on...

‘Gavington House, Miss.’

The coachman, no doubt anxious to reach his journey’s end before dark, was briskly polite as he drew the coach to a halt on the road between Corbridge and Morpeth. Descending unaided and with some difficulty, given her hooped skirt, she saw he had deposited her bag beside the imposing stone pillars of an open gateway. He tipped his hat to her and sprang back up to his perch with a cry to his horses. She watched the coach roll along the lane, and waved away the cloud of dust and grit that flew up behind the large wheels.

Green hedgerows divided greener fields, and there was not a dwelling in sight. Looking around, Melanie shivered. The snarling griffins with claws dug into the top of the stone gateposts added to her feeling of unease. Stepping closer, she realised the griffins protected a date incised into the stone beneath them: 1524. Gavington House had stood here for three hundred and forty years.

A little unnerved by such a span of time, Melanie stooped, gripped the handles of her portmanteau and marched between the gate posts with a determined stride. The gates had been opened and then abandoned some time ago, for tall weeds grew on both sides of them. Odd, she thought, as she walked along the weedy gravel drive that led through a shadowy clump of pine trees. Though she had packed only the necessities and a fresh gown for tomorrow’s interview, her leather bag was heavy and the gravel drive did not make for easy walking. Full of shallow gradients and curves, it wound through the trees in a most annoying way. Now and then, through gaps in the foliage, she caught sight of what must be Gavington House.

Had she been in the comfort of a sprung carriage, she would have found the approach charming and no doubt been delighted with each pretty vista as it appeared. But after twenty minutes of energetic walking, Melanie hesitated. The drive was about to take one of its unnecessary bends away from the house, which was plainly visible two hundred yards away in the opposite direction.

With a frustrated sigh, Melanie gripped her bag firmly, brushed through the low hanging branches and strode out across the lawn. If she were shot for it, she would not follow that drive an instant longer. Hurrying across the open stretch of recently scythed grass, she glanced over her shoulder, half expecting an irate gardener or gamekeeper to chase her off the hallowed turf.

Available here:  amzn.to/ZLEeT1

“Fascinating and beautifully created characters, plenty of secrets, and a compelling love story between a hero and a heroine that tugs at your heart strings, makes this a must read.”

Characters who stick - Jen Black and Matho Spirston

When I wanted a foil for Harry Wharton's cheerful charm, I came up with Matho Spirston. His is a peasant against Harry’s gentry background, and he has a dour and very practical common sense approach to life. I think of him as a typical male of the Northumberland region, from his dry, cynical humour and outspokenness to his strong sense of purpose. He’s never been further north than Otterburn, but in my wip he sets off with Harry for Edinburgh because Harry asked him to, and there’s an outside chance he may make some money while he’s at it. 

Almost everything that happens once they set off is a learning curve for Matho. By using deep third point of view, I can filter the events of the day through him, and let readers know how he feels about maybe having to kill someone, if he misses the ritual of mass, or how the Borderers feel about armies tramping through their crops and thieving their cattle and sheep as provisions. Matho’s real adventures begin in a book as yet unpublished, but he first graced the page in Fair Border Bride, initially published as a paperback Till the Day Go Down, which was really Harry and Alina's story. (When the company turned up its toes, I re-edited and self-published the story as Fair Border Bride.)

He was a lowly Guard Captain at Aydon, the home of the Carnaby family and had grown up with Alina, the daughter of the family. When Harry falls foul of Alina Carnaby's father, Matho decides to help Alina save Harry's life. In doing so, he admires Harry's courage and thinks he lacks common sense. Matho is very much the leader when  Alina is kidnapped.

As a character, Matho just grew and grew in my mind, to the point I started writing of his journey. His friendship with Harry led him in directions he would never have expected. The final polishing of his story is nearing an end, and then I'll have to let Matho rest while I try and find an agent and a publisher for him. I have a rough draft of his next adventures, and I think he'll be with me for a long time yet.

Excerpt: 

Harry gripped the bars of the grill. “I swear,” he said, his voice strong and steady, “that I have done nothing, and will do nothing, that will bring hurt or harm to the people of Aydon.”

Matho shifted, trying to get a good look at Harry. Harry moved further into the shaft of moonlight. He sensed that something good might come of this exchange.

“Aye, well. Tomorrow. There’s nowt as’ll change Carnaby’s mind once it’s made up. He hates the family Scott to the last wee de’il in it, and since ye were daft enough to say ye name was Scott, he’ll have ye tossed off the crag, ne doubt aboot it. But there’s summat…”

“What? What, man?” Hope rose in Harry’s chest like bubbles of air through water. He thumped his chest to be rid of the pressure they caused.

“A wee chance, maybe, if ye’re a lad wi ye wits about ye. The Master hasn’t noticed yet, but a tree came down a day or two back, an’ it lies fair across the gully below the crag. If ye were to hop onto it, like as not ye’d be able to shimmy down and get clean away.”

“How far down is it?”

“Ten feet, maybe.” A grin slid over the solid Northumberland features. “Figurin’s no my strong suit, y’knaw.”

“And below that?”

Matho looked him straight in the eye. “Nowt but the Ay burn.”

Fair Border Bride, available on Kindle.

Posted by Jen Black

Vikings in Ireland: Dark Pool by Jen Black

Conn sat down, a warm, very solid presence beside her. Eba's gaze flew to the youngest man of all. With the darkness of the hall behind him, Kimi's pale hair shone silver and rose in the firelight as he laughed at some joke. He is only a boy, Eba thought. He still had the prettiness of childhood, though faint glints and sparkles around his chin announced the beginnings of a new beard. He turned, his gaze slapped into her face and Eba flinched at the contempt in his hard blue eyes.

Conn stirred at her side. "Kimi doesn't want to be married, after all!" 

Kimi scowled at his cousin, but Conn was not cowed. "You won't find a girl prettier than this, Kimi. Better grab her fast."

Kimi's smile became a sneer. "I don't want her. If you do, you can have her."

Eba's blood thudded in her ears. Nervousness, fright and ale combined into sudden overwhelming anger. She banged her bowl down on the hearthstones and sprang to her feet. “Good," she snapped. "I'll leave first thing in the morning, then."

Speechless, startled faces all around the fire pit stared up at her. Eba swallowed with difficulty and the thought she might have just consigned herself to the slave market flitted across her mind.

Torquil grunted, slapped his palm across his knee and began to laugh. One by one the men relaxed and laughed with him. Only Kimi was not amused. He got to his feet and glared at her across the hearth. "You'll go nowhere. You're not pretty enough to marry me." His glance slid over her from head to foot. "But you can be my bed slave, for as long as I please."

His high tones grated on Eba's already lacerated nerves. "I'd rather die!" She glared at him. "Why, you're still a child whose voice hasn't broken! I won't be here for very long at all, I assure you. My brother will come for me."

The fire hummed in the silence and one of the wolfhounds opened its mouth and yawned. Kimi snorted in derision. "I'll look forward to it," he said. "And I'll sharpen my sword."

                                                          ~~~~~

This exciting story is set in Dublin in the years of Viking domination in Ireland. Eba, a headstrong teenager, always seems to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, and grows up  very fast during one summer of dramatic happenings. I went to Dublin specifically to check I'd written sensibly about the places in the story, and still have good memories of Dublin. 

 You can read Dark Pool on Kindle via http://www.amazon.com/Dark-Pool-Banners-Alba-Sequel-ebook/dp/B004SREKJI and visit with me on my blog at http://jenblackauthor.blogspot.com

Uploaded by Jen Black 24/07/2013

New Twist on a romantic Cliche

An unashamed piece of self-promotion on my part - but I also think Maggie's review is, in itself, worth a read. 

"There is a plethora of romance novels involving heroines with physical or psychological scars, dark, brooding heroes, a precocious child or two, loyal housekeepers, and remote, rural settings with slightly forbidding manor houses, or even castles. To use any of these literary chestnuts these days is dangerous, I think, unless the author is good enough--and sufficiently inventive--to overcome so many clichés huddled under one roof, so to speak.

Jen Black has done that admirably in Victorian Beauty, which succeeds on a number of levels, where others have failed abysmally. Read the plot synopses elsewhere--I`m more interested in the author's skills at making what could have been a hackneyed tale come alive again, fresh and fun to read. First, her writing is smooth, economical and, in quite a few places, graceful and evocative. There was never one of those moments, on the first page or elsewhere, where I had to sigh, hoping the writing would improve as I turned the pages. It was good from the beginning--what a relief! 

Second, Ms. Black's setting--the North of England--is one she knows, so now I know it as well, or at least that small part of it. Her descriptions are elegant, imparting exactly what's needed to lead the reader fully into the scene, and then move on. That's a neat trick which many authors have failed to master. Most important, however, are her characters, Melanie Grey and Lord Jarrow. Melanie is neither a beauty nor a typical Victorian noblewoman, but most fortunate for the discerning reader, she is not a "feisty" heroine saddled with the ridiculous trappings of the 21st century. She's vulnerable, to be sure, and she has her moments of fear and weakness, but she leavens those with an endearing nosiness--this woman will pry into things in a heartbeat!--a rather endearing refusal to be obsequious to anyone, including her employer, and a bit of rock-solid strength when she needs it. 

Jarrow has his moments of brooding, but for reasons that become clear only much later in the book, and are quite a revelation. He may be tall, dark, and moderately handsome, but I don't hold that against him--no one will eventually fall in love with a troll. The interactions between these two provide the requisite sparks, conflicting outlooks on the world and how it works, and an intriguing two steps forward, one step back pas de deux that makes an historical romance so entertaining--when it's done right, as it is here.

Ms. Black consistently writes outside the mold, the formula, or the whatever-it-is of historical romance. Her style, to include the sometimes wry, sometimes quotidian, and almost always refreshing take on her characters and the period she portrays, is a breath of fresh air. Additionally, the two main characters are ones you might want to spend time with outside the confines of a Kindle, and the minor characters are equally well-drawn, beyond the trite and true.

There's a lot of junk out there, folks, so spend your time and money wisely. This is a book I can recommend without reservation, and I don't usually like historical romances."

By Margaret Chrisawn

Loaded by Jen Black, author of Victorian Beauty

http://jenblackauthor.blogspot.com 

Historical fiction: Reluctance by Jen Black

The heroine of Reluctance is Frances Bowes, the widowed heiress who insists she does not wish to re-marry at any cost. When a childhood friend returns to the neighbourhood, she is shocked to discover him drunk wandering the lanes at midnight and visits his home early next morning to see that he did not come to grief.

Excerpt:

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“Please step back, sir.” To her shame, her voice sounded like a child pleading for comfort. When a floorboard creaked, she assumed he had stepped back. She laid her brow against the smooth, cool wood, closed her eyes, and spoke quietly. “I am not here to do you harm. The opposite, if only you will believe me.”

“Then why invade my home like some meddling, interfering busybody who—”

“I resent that!” Frances gathered together what shreds of dignity she possessed, turned, and met his sardonic gaze. “I am neither meddling nor interfering! I came to see…” Her voice faded into nothing. A flicker of fear ran through her skin. Grimly, she took a few swift breaths.

He waited, his head tilted to one side.

“I came to see that you were safe,” she added. “Last night you were as drunk as…as I have ever seen anyone, and I feared you would not arrive home without mishap.”

“And what is your scale of drunkenness, Lady Rathmere? How do you judge? I should wager you have never in your life seen a man drunk!”

Frances acknowledged the accuracy of his statement and worried her lower lip. “I am truly sorry,” she blurted at last. “Please believe my intentions were good.”

Streatham threw his hands in the air. “You invaded my bedchamber. What if I was not alone? What if I had a companion here? For God’s sake, woman, what were you thinking?”

“Oh.” Such a possibility had never crossed her mind.

“Oh, indeed.”

She flushed under his mockery, but met his gaze and held it. “I may have made a mistake,” she said, “but I find your behaviour both inappropriate and…detestable, sir.” It was only when her thigh knocked against the corner of an open trunk she realised that, step by step, she had retreated toward the windows. Somehow he had moved between her and the door and now lounged against it, watching her with disbelief in his eyes.

“Really?” His brows lifted. “And your invasion of my house, my room, is appropriate? I do not think you have any grounds on which to lecture me, madam.”

Frances found her way to the battered rocking chair in the corner and dropped into it. Her legs might stop shaking if she rested for a few moments. The relief was instantaneous, but when she met his gaze she knew she should not have taken such a brief respite. It would look as if she wished to stay. Immediately, she rose to her feet.

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Reluctance-ebook/dp/B007ROL46Q

Posted by Jen Black, http://jenblackauthor.blogspot.com

Far After Gold, Fair Border Bride and Victorian Beauty

Jen Black: Early writing

I wasn’t the kind of child who wrote stories. I kept a little book with a list of the books I’d read, which may have been a pointer to my later career of librarianship or perhaps it points to all sorts of other quirks of character we’d better not go into! My writing began shortly after I did A-level English, read about the real MacBeth and found Shakespeare had done him no favours when he wrote his play.

History spoke of 17 happy years under MacBeth’s rule. I began reading around the time, and grew interested in the culture of the tenth century – herbs, buildings, religion, clothes –right down to belt buckles and buttons. Ships, swords – you can get lost in the detail of how Viking ships were built and swords were made. Then I started thinking about the power of love in such a brutal and unforgiving world, and because there isn’t much written detail of the tenth century, and even less about the people who lived then, the facts I had slowly morphed into a character I called Finlay of Alba. Once I had his story, other characters popped up and I started writing Banners of Alba in the late 70s – on a typewriter.

Then I went to university as a mature student and abandoned the book, but I couldn’t wait to sign up for Art and Archaeology of Anglo-Saxon England!

Once university was finished and I had a job, I went on writing but life kept intervening and I’d forget about the book for long stretches of time, but I gradually amassed a pile of typewritten pages that often got glued together with my over liberal use of sno-pak…and then in the nineties I met the man who is now my husband, and he volunteered to scan those pages onto computer for me.

Once the work was on computer, I couldn’t believe how much easier it all became. The book came in at around 150,000 words, but I cut it down a little and then offered it around to agents picked out of the Writers& Artists Yearbook.

I had more rejections than I wanted from agents in this country, so I thought I’d try America. Because I baulked at paying postage on a paper ms across the Atlantic, I tried e-publishers, and the first one accepted me. Perhaps this should have told me something, but I was so pleased I just went along for the ride. I learned a lot about editing, promotion and networking with Novelbooks and “met” my first authors there. My work was duly published, and the same day, the publisher announced bankruptcy. Except that she didn’t exactly call it that, and she didn’t follow the rules about doing it. I learned a lot about how Americans handle themselves in tight spots over the next few months.

I got my rights back for Banners of Alba, sold it again, and soon had another version of it available as both Print and e-book. It is still available today, with that same e-publisher, along with the sequel, Dark Pool. If I edited the book today, I think the word count would go down considerably! I’ve learned so much in the decade since Banners was first published, and sometimes I think I ought to re-edit them anyway.

So here's an excerpt from Banners :

Shells, rattling together in the weak undertow, mocked them and the sun finally dipped below the sea. Ratagan shivered and pulled the edges of her cloak together.

'It never really began, did it?' Hundi said. 'Nothing more than a little amusement, a little diversion; that's all it was for you.'

'And for you it was love straight out of the sagas?'

'And how would you know? Are you so all-knowing that you know my feelings better than I do?'

The dim light lit the planes of his face as his head turned towards her. She drew a quick breath. 'No,' she said, and guilt flickered and died. 'But it's clear you are not going to believe me, whatever I say.' He turned away from her, back towards the sea. 'We knew it would be difficult.'

'Taking a slave as your lover?' His snort of laughter was brief and sour. 'No one suspects us because our relationship is unthinkable. The urge I had to knock that man down last night because he dared to hold you - and I was that far away from doing it,' he said, measuring a small distance between finger and thumb. 'Do you know what stopped me?' His voice vibrated with pent up anger. 'You might have tried to protect me, and then our friendship - hah! Friendship! - would become known. That stopped me, Rada. I've always known I couldn't defend you openly, but I never thought I might harm you. Since knowing you, what little freedom I had has vanished.'

He meant, of course, that the rest of the Steading would scorn her for bedding a slave.

Fulll of contrition, Rada caught and held the back of his hand to her cold cheek. 'I wanted us both to be happy.'

Slowly, unwillingly, his other hand came to rest on her back. 'I was.'

The waves murmured in the near dark and the cold wind spattered fine grains of sand against her cloak. She took a deep breath and lifted her head. 'Will you trust me to do the best I can for us both?'

'I will trust you,'' he said flatly, 'as long as it does not involve that Southerner.'

Banners of Alba is available on Amazon:

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Banners-Alba-Jen-Black/dp/1594313261

Jen Black

Aydon Castle exists

 

 Walk through the gate and you would see Aydon Castle, Alina's home, standing before you. More a fortified farmhouse than a true castle, it has stood on its promontory above the Ay Burn since the twelfth century. The house was a working farmhouse until the 1960s, when English Heritage stepped in and opened it up to the public. Walking around the various rooms, one hopes they had lots of tapestries, rugs and blankets otherwise hypothermia woudl have set in.

 

 

 

 Blurb: Two men wait at the altar, but does she have a choice?

 

 

Excerpt:

The kitten’s pale claws flexed against the rounded curve of her breast. The court ladies wore stomachers of wood to give a straight line to their expensive gowns, but not so this girl. Harry swallowed. She must be aware of the effect she had on him.

“A stallholder warned me I may lose my life on the road to Edinburgh. Are things so bad in the Borders?”

Alina’s smile faded. “Yes.”

“I must go,” he said. “The journey is one I…it is important.”

She sighed. “Then go if you must, but it is a bad road and you must take care.”

“Then I shall take another road.”

Her smile held condescension. “Whichever road you take through the Borders will be dangerous, sir.” The kitten, tucked in beneath her chin, stared at him, too; both pairs of eyes so serious Harry couldn’t help smiling. “That creature’s probably got fleas, you know.”

“Will you tell me your name?”

“Harry Scott at your service, lady.”

A fine gold chain supported a gold cross at her throat, and it twinkled in the sunlight as she sucked in a sharp breath. “Your family name is Scott?”

He had chosen the surname at random. Why did she look at him as if he was an enemy? Perhaps he should have chosen a decent English name like Smith or Wilson.

He nodded, determined to make nothing of it. Scott was a common enough name, after all. “And your name, lady? I may pass this way on my return.”

“My name is Alina Carnaby. I live at Aydon Hall now. But before you visit, you should know that my father hates every member of the Scott family. So much so that he may kill you the moment you declare your name.”

Available now: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Fair-Border-Bride-ebook/dp/B005VPXA42

Jen's blog: http://jenblackauthor.blogspot.com

 Uploaded by Jen Black

Historical Feast!

I tend to forget my earlier books, and concentrate only on the most recent publication. I think it is probably a common failing among authors! So here I am, trying to do the right thing by my older titles. In publication order, most recent first, these are my titles:

VICTORIAN BEAUTY

Amazon Kindle, 25th December 2012

Melanie Grey, no longer a beauty and humbled by an abusive marriage, heads to Northumberland in hope of a quiet life, but soon discovers that her new employer has secrets. Unexplained night time activity, and a shooting that almost kills him - can Melanie deal with these things, or will she rush back to London?

 

 

FAR AFTER GOLD  

Amazon Kindle, 12th June 2012

Emer struggles to escape the clutches of the young Viking who bought her as a bed slave and takes her to his home on the west coast of Scotland. He wants to keep both slave and wife, but his promised bride threatens to sell Emer to the next passing trader. Accused of theft, Emer flees the Steading and heads out into the wilds.

RELUCTANCE

MuseItUp Publishing on Amazon Kindle, 4th April, 2012

Set in England in 1803, Frances is happy with her life until two men appear in the neighbourhood. Jack she knew as a child, but does not recognise the man he has become. Holgate cuts a fine figure in his regimentals but impresses Frances's mother rather more than he does Frances. A frightening episode with Holgate leads Frances to consider a marriage of convenience, but that leads to problems neither she nor her new husband envisaged. The penultimate chapter strips all emotions bare.

SHADOWS

Amazon Kindle, 6th December 2011

Inspired by the place where I have spent so many happy summer holidays, this is the story of a new love finding its feet and an old love that wants a truth to be known. Melissa and Rory have been at the old mill barely twelve hours when the first ghostly manifestation takes place. The old mill actually exists in France - but without ghosts!

 

 

FAIR BORDER BRIDE

Amazon Kindle, 13th October, 2011

Set in 1543 in the border country between England and Scotland, Alina falls in love and is horrified when her father threatens to kill Harry by sending him over the Leap. Encounters with reivers are sometimes amusing, and sometimes horrifying. Alina and her lover find themselves caught up in the feuds that rage across the border.

 

 

DARK POOL

Write Words, Inc, on Amazon Kindle, 28th June 2006

ShoAs the newly crowned King of Alba, Finlay feels obliged to rescue a young girl kidnapped and taken to Dublin, the Dark Pool of the title. The story belongs to Eba, who has no idea that a ship intent on her rescue has followed her to Ireland. Believing she must save herself, she is horrified when Sitric Silkenbeard orders her marriedage to a handsome but cruel youth and seizes her chance to escape during an attack on the Viking city.

 

BANNERS OF ALBA

Write Words, Inc on amazon Kindle, 25th January,  2006

Review:

 “Though there is a major romantic subplot, THE BANNERS OF ALBA is more a magnificent medieval fiction that brings to life the eleventh century through the power struggles. Readers will appreciate the internal dilemma confronting the hero as he must choose between two paths filled with deceit. Symbolically the two women in Finlay's life represent the choices he has. As the champion learns that picking what he deems is good for Alba is not necessarily good for him, readers obtain an exhilarating historical thriller starring a hero worth rooting for." Harriet Klausner.

The link to all these titles is here on Amazon: Click
Jen Black