Book Launch Spotlight - Wild Scottish Gold (The Enchanted Highlands Book 7) by Tricia O'Malley

Available from Amazon UK and Amazon US

She was forged in heat, and he was the hammer that struck too close to her heart.

Kaia Bissett came to Scotland for a fresh start. No entanglements. No mistakes. No mixing business with pleasure. But one impulsive, scorching night with a stranger shatters that promise—especially when the stranger turns out to be Thane Blackwood. Her new landlord, and apparently, her biggest rival.

Thane built his empire with his own hands. His forge. His rules. He has no room for distractions—especially not Kaia, the fiery metalsmith who refuses to back down. When she lands a commission for the grand iron gates at Common Gin, he steps into the ring, determined to beat her. Sparks fly—on the anvil and off.

But Kaia’s past isn’t done with her. She’s heir to an ancient order, bound to protect Loren Brae from the Kelpies that stalk its waters. Magick stirs in her blood, wild and untamed. And Thane? He won’t let her fight alone.

Steel clashes. Desire burns. But can they forge something stronger, or will the fire consume them both?

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About the Author

A NY Times, USA Today, and WSJ bestselling author, Tricia O’Malley’s infectious joy in writing romance with an added dash of magic has touched hearts around the world. With over three million books read, O’Malley’s stories have been translated into several languages and enjoy a devoted following. Tricia lives in the Caribbean with her handsome Scotsman. An avid scuba diver, Tricia spends much of her time underwater dreaming up new stories while photographing the beautiful sea life. She discovers her inspiration on the go – and you’ll find her books set in beautiful settings with characters who deserve a happily-ever-after. To see some of her underwater or island life photos visit her on Facebook, Instagram, or at www.triciaomalley.com

Book Launch Guest Post by Samantha Wilcoxson, Author of James Alexander Hamilton: Son of the American Revolution

Available from Amazon UK and Amazon US

Born in the year of the Constitutional Convention, James Alexander Hamilton was uniquely positioned to observe the early republic era and the formation of the experimental United States government. His father, Alexander Hamilton, had been the first US Treasury Secretary, an outspoken and controversial character who was killed in a duel when James was a teenager. With a lifelong devotion to his father's memory, James advised men from Andrew Jackson and Martin Van Buren to Abraham Lincoln and Salmon P Chase

 on banking and constitutional matters.

I decided to write about James Alexander Hamilton during my research for a previous book. Women of the American Revolution included a chapter on James’s mother, Elizabeth Schuyler Hamilton, and I found his Reminiscences to be a fantastic resource. It also included so much more than some personal insight into Hamilton family life. I discovered that James had been an observant and active witness to seventy-five years of turbulent US history.

James was born in 1788, the year of the Constitutional Convention, and lived through the American Civil War to publish his Reminiscences in 1869. Throughout these years, James was connected with many of the people whose names we remember today, such as John Quincy Adams, Andrew Jackson, and Abraham Lincoln. He followed in his father’s footsteps, studying to become a lawyer who was deeply concerned with constitutional and banking issues.

In 1829, James served as temporary secretary of state for Andrew Jackson, which has caused some historians to label him an anti-banking Jacksonian. In fact, James left behind stacks of correspondence encouraging Jackson to reform the national bank where necessary but practically begging him not to dismantle it. James warned the president of the financial panic that would – and did – occur when Jackson defunded the national bank.

Besides advising presidents and cabinet members, James was involved in the New York Crystal Palace, fighting New York’s Great Fire of 1835, and was a part of the crew that won the first America’s Cup. I felt like I was constantly discovering unique experiences and participation in historic events when researching James’s life!

James was in his seventies when the Civil War broke out, an occurrence that he blamed on the incompetence and inaction of President James Buchanan. Despite his age, James offered to put on a uniform and die honorably on the field of battle. Instead, his country asked him to serve on a board that advised President Abraham Lincoln, which James was happy to do. He even wrote a draft of the Emancipation Proclamation.

I felt like I became friends with James through the writing of this biography and wish his Reminiscences included more from the post-war years. The country could have still benefitted from his wise counsel, but age caught up with the man who had strived to continue the work of his legendary father. James died in 1878, and is buried in Sleepy Hollow, a cemetery made famous by James’s friend and neighbor, Washington Irving.

Samantha Wilcoxson 

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About the Author

Samantha Wilcoxson is an author of emotive biographical fiction and nonfiction featuring history’s unsung heroes. Her first fiction series tells stories of early Tudor women, beginning with Elizabeth of York, but she has explored other eras as well. Samantha's Luminous features real life radium girl Catherine Donohue and has won several awards for its compelling, poignant storytelling. She has also written both fiction and nonfiction set during the American Revolution. Today, Samantha is excited to share her new biography of James Alexander Hamilton published by Pen & Sword History.  Samantha and her husband of almost thirty years split their time between Michigan and Florida, and they love exploring historic places together. They have three adult children, who love to gather for family time at the lake. Samantha is currently writing a Wars of the Roses trilogy for Sapere Books and looks forward to returning to the era that first inspired her to write. Find out more from Samantha's website https://samanthawilcoxson.com anf find her on Instagram and Facebook 

Historical Fiction Spotlight: Oscar's Tale, by Chris Bishop

Available from Amazon UK and Amazon US

'For is it not the wish of every man that his son will achieve more in life than he did?'

OSCAR'S TALE is the story of a Saxon boy who sets out to find and rescue his father who has been taken by Viking slavers. 

Set in 877 as the people of Wessex are forced to fight not just for their very lives, but for their freedom, their religion and for their right to live as Saxons, Oscar relates all that which befalls him on his all but impossible quest. 

This is set against the backdrop of King Alfred's desperate attempt to regain his kingdom which culminates in a victory at the Battle of Edington which is very much against the odds. 

But this is not just a story about bloody battles and fearsome warriors, it's about a boy struggling to live up to his father's reputation as a warrior and trying to find his place in a turbulent and uncertain world. For that, Oscar is forced to confront many dangers, earn the respect of others far above his station and even find love - albeit the cost to him is far higher than most men would have been willing to pay.

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About the Author

Chris Bishop was born in London in 1951. After a successful career as a chartered surveyor, he retired to concentrate on writing, combining this with his lifelong interest in Anglo Saxon history. He has also published numerous blogs about his work. His other interests are travel, windsurfing and fly fishing and he's a member of The Historical Writers' Association. Find out more at https://chrisbishopauthor.com/ and follow Chris on Twitter @CBishop_author

Blog Tour Book Review: The Midnight of Eights, by Justin Newland

Available from Amazon UK and Amazon US

1580: Nelan Michaels docks at Plymouth after sailing around the world aboard the Golden Hind. He seeks only to master his mystical powers – the mark of the salamander, that mysterious spirit of fire – and reunite with his beloved Eleanor.

Fasten your seat belts for a roller-coaster ride through the key events of Elizabethan history. Justin Newland's brand of mystical realism means he likes to surprise the reader with his particular blend of myth and fact.

The queen's spymaster, Sir Francis Walsingham, runs his network of spies from his gloomy house in Seething Land, in the shadow of the Tower of London (fact), but in this world his preferred method of uncovering traitors and treachery is to use 'scryers', such as Nelan Michaels, who can see into the future.

The English fleet waits in Plymouth for the queen to pay their crewmen while the Spanish Armada approaches in crescent formation (fact) but Sir Francis Drake plays a game of bowls (myth). I particularly liked the well researched voyage of the Roebuck and its part in defeating hte Spanish Armada,  

Some of the period details are spot on, but I suspect Justin Newland is teasing readers with some references, so think more Lewis Carroll than Hilary Mantel. Entertaining and unpredicable, readers must suspend credulity and enjoy the fantasy. 

Tony Riches

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About the Authot

Author, speaker and broadcaster, Justin appears on LitFest panels, gives talks to historical associations and libraries and enjoys giving radio interviews and making podcasts. He has a Doctorate in Mathematics from Imperial College, London, and  lives with his partner in plain sight of the Mendip Hills in Somerset, England. Find out mo0re from his website https://www.justinnewland.com/ 

Blog Tour Guest Post by Rosemary Hayward, Author of Strait Lace, A Loxley Hall Book

Available from Amazon UK and Amazon US

1905. Edwardian England. Harriet Loxley, the daughter of a vicar and niece to a prominent Nottingham lace manufacturer, spends her days playing cricket with her brother, scouring the countryside for botanical specimens, and never missing an opportunity to argue the case for political power for women. Given the chance to visit the House of Commons, Harriet witnesses the failure of a historic bill for women’s voting rights. She also meets the formidable Pankhurst women.

The Inspiration for Strait Lace

I wanted to write about a suffragette – to explore the thoughts, feelings and motivations of a woman who would do the extraordinary things the suffragettes did. I wanted her to be an ordinary middle class woman, not one of the great names of the movement, and I wanted her to come from somewhere outside London, somewhere I knew and could recreate in my story.

I lived in Nottingham for several years, working at Raleigh bicycles, training as an accountant, starting a drama club for young people at my church. I biked to work on a route that took me through Nottingham’s history – its memorial gardens, its canal, its deserted lace warehouses. 

So, I searched for “Suffragette and Nottingham”. And I hit pay dirt. Elizabeth Crawford, a British author, historian and dealer in suffrage ephemera, had an entry in her fascinating blog, Woman and her Sphere, about Helen Kirkpatrick Watts. Helen was the daughter of a vicar of Lenton. Lenton, now a suburb of Nottingham, was, in 1900, still a village on its edge. It was also where the Raleigh bicycle factory was, or used to be. It has since been demolished and replaced by housing. 

Elizabeth Crawford, had been at a conference and heard the story of a teacher in Bristol who set his students a project. One enterprising young woman decided to research the suffragettes and put an advertisement in the local paper asking if anyone had any first hand materials. To her, and her teacher’s surprise, she got a reply from a worker at the Avonmouth docks saying they had a trunk in their possession which had belonged to Helen Kirkpatrick Watts and in it were a quantity of suffrage papers, such as letters between Helen and her parents. The docks allowed the teacher to copy the documents. Those copies are now in the Nottingham city archives.

Elizabeth followed up. She found out more about Helen and her life and you can read that story here https://womanandhersphere.com/2015/06/19/suffrage-stories-helen-watts-and-the-mystery-of-the-unclaimed-trunk/

 

Helen Watts. Colonel Linley Blathwayt

(Wikimedia Commons)

What captivated me was Helen herself and the mysterious case of the missing trunk. I determined my main character was going to be a middle child of a vicar of Lenton who joined forces with the suffragettes. The trunk was going to feature in a dual-timeline novel involving my character, Harriet, and a 21st century descendent of hers. Well, the dual-timeline novel became a three timeline novel too unwieldy to manage. It is now two books: Strait Lace and Crocus Fields. Crocus Fields will be the next Loxley Hall book. The trunk gets its moment in the limelight in Crocus Fields, but trunks have brief appearances in Strait Lace. Watch out for them.

That sums up the connection between Helen Kirkpatrick Watts and Harriet Loxley. Harriet is not Helen. Harriet’s family is not Helen’s family. Helen had a special connection to one brother. I liked that idea and used it for Harriet, but that brother is not Helen’s bother. Helen was hard of hearing, as they would have called it back then. I toyed with using that quality for my character and decided it would be too dominant and possibly too difficult to pull off.

    Helen was one pillar of inspiration – the town of Nottingham and its history was another. Nottingham is a town rich in history and cultural reference. Everyone knows about Robin Hood. I borrowed the Loxley name. I just couldn’t help myself. And then there’s Tennyson’s poem Locksley Hall, with its lines that epitomise exactly what Harriet was up against:

Weakness to be wroth with weakness! woman's pleasure, woman's pain—

Nature made them blinder motions bounded in a shallower brain:

Woman is the lesser man, and all thy passions, match'd with mine,

Are as moonlight unto sunlight, and as water unto wine—

My Loxleys had to have a Loxley Hall. Harriet’s Uncle George is just a little bit pretentious. And Harriet’s passions were certainly going to be no less than a man’s. 

Nottingham is famous for many other things: stocking and lace making; the invention of the machines that founded those industries; Boots the Chemist; Players Cigarettes; Raleigh Bicycles; the caves in the Castle Rock; one of a few pubs claiming to be the oldest in England; and meadows that used to be covered in crocuses. I seized on lace making for the Loxley family background and on crocuses for a theme and a metaphor, which comes into more prominence in Crocus Fields.

Interestingly, as I delved deeper into the history of the town I once lived in, I discovered a piece of its history which was notorious at the time of the suffragettes but seems to be less well known now. The first major reform of the United Kingdom voting system for hundreds of years was in 1832. Getting the legislation through the House of Lords was a long hard fight. 

One of the more outspoken opponents to extending the franchise was the Duke of Newcastle, who owned Nottingham Castle and its surrounding deer park. The castle at that time was not the medieval castle of the Sheriff of Nottingham from the tales of Robin Hood. That castle was torn down by the Parliamentarians after the civil war. It was a stately home – a stately home that went up in flames as the citizens of Nottingham took to the streets in protest over the opposition to the Great Reform Bill.

 

Nottingham Castle on Fire, 10 October 1831 

by Henry Dawson

This event and its significance for the suffragettes had to be in my book. And it is. As is the historically accurate arson attack on the Nottingham Rowing Club’s boathouse.

Strait Lace started with a real suffragette and a real city and, as it grew, it was infused with the essence of a city and its people. The early twentieth century city of Nottingham and its lace industry live on in its pages.

Rosemary Hayward

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About the Author

Rosemary Hayward is the author of Margaret Leaving, a historical mystery uncovering little known events that occurred in the immediate aftermath to World War II. She is also the creator of Your Next Book, a deeply nerdy monthly newsletter describing a book picked from her bookshelf, or Kindle. She is British by birth but now lives part of the year in California and part in southern Spain. Find out more at Rosemary's website www.rosemaryhayward.com and find her on Facebook and Instagram.

Notes of a Time Traveller, a Special Guest Post by Lucy Menadue

Australopithecus Afarensis (Wikimedia Commons)

Ethiopia, 3.2 million years ago

They had been travelling for weeks. The tribe stuck together. They each had their roles to play. Their home had run out of food and resources. They had no choice but to move on. But, day by day, for their matriarch, each step became harder. She could feel every breath becoming heavier, and heavier. Her vision began to blur. 

Her lips, cracked. Her throat, hoarse. It had been days since they had encountered any water. She could go no further. Unable to carry on, the tribe set up camp. Moving through the woodland, they collected sticks and leaves to create a number of makeshift nests for the night. With support, the younger, more agile individuals, were able to scale the trees to build nests higher up, away from danger. 

Darkness fell over the valley. A thick cloud of mist began its nightly decent; weaving its way through the trees. As she drifted in and out of consciousness, she could still feel the gentle touch of her grandchildren as they came and went. Above her, she could see the shadows of the trees swaying. 

The next time her eyes opened, she could see her daughter standing over her, a look of sadness filled her eyes. No words were spoken. They didn’t need to be, nor could they be. In the dead of the night, the mist seemed to clear, and for the briefest of moments, she could see a million lights sparkling above her, filling the vast and empty darkness above. A sense of deepest calm descended. She closed her eyes for the last time, as the rattle of death approached.

Santo Stefano dei Mori, Rome, 1400

The bells tolled. Daylight had broken. It was time to return to chapel for Prime. Lorenzo rolled over, exhausted by another night of broken sleep. He took a deep breath and sat up. He pulled his tunic over his head, before tying it at the waist with a leather belt. 

He slipped on his shoes, and made haste for the chapel. With the expected arrival of more pilgrims from Ethiopia, today was going to be another long day. 

In silence, they met. The monks of Santo Stefano dei Mori. Without a word to preface it, they began to chant in complete synchronicity: 

“Oratio Mosi hominis Dei Dominie refugium tu factus es nobis in generatione et generatione

Priusquam montes fierent et formaretur terra et orbis a saeculo usque in saeculum tu es Deus……”

The dulcet tones filled the chapel, escaping from the open windows, to be carried out on the wind. In spiritual harmony, the chants of the monks reached the ears of the pilgrims. A wearied traveller, Täsfa, looked up. The words of the monks fell upon him and made the hairs on his arms stand on end. He had finally made it. He had spent months travelling here from his homeland in Ethiopia. 

He carried nothing with him but a small bag. Inside it, his last, few remaining coins, a knife and fork his father had bestowed on him before he left, and, his most treasured possession – a gift from his young sister – a bracelet of coral and bone. Her family would search for things in the nearby valley. Curiosities that could be sold or traded at market. But there was something about these bones. They were different. They were small, fine and slender. 

Like those from a human hand, but smaller. She had hidden them in her pocket. Too special to sell, she made them into a bracelet for her brother. She loved him unconditionally, and they knew when he left for this pilgrimage, that it would be the last time they would likely ever see each other. Täsfa reached into his bag, felt around for the bracelet, and gripped it tightly to feel his sister’s strength, urging him on. 

Lorenzo opened the gates and with a welcoming smile greeted the new group of pilgrims. They would need cleaning, feeding, and a place to rest. As they entered, one by one, fellow monks would warmly greet them, and show them where they needed to go. The last pilgrim, a man of average height, looked tired, but held himself up with pride. 

He approached Lorenzo, one hand outstretched in introduction, and another, clutching something tightly, hidden within his bag. “My name is Täsfa,” the man said. “I have come here to work.” Lorenzo met Täsfa’s stare. His face warm, but inquiring. “I believe I have a great deal of work to do” Täsfa added. Lorenzo’s face relaxed. There was something in this pilgrim that made him feel he could trust him implicitly. He wasn’t like the others. 

He didn’t know what it was just yet, but there was something about him. “All in good time, my brother. But first, let’s get you some food,” Lorenzo responded, placing an arm around this man and leading him to the dining hall. 

Hadar, Ethiopia, November 24, 1974

“Another, long day in this sweltering heat and nothing to show for it,” said Donald, as he threw back another piece of animal bone. “You’re right. Let’s head back,” responded Tom. The rest of their team gathered up the maps and tools, and headed in the direction of the Land Rover. 

Sofie, the most junior member, was collecting the last of the tools, when she heard what she thought was a low humming. She turned, and peered off into the distance. Unable to see anything, she started to walk in the direction of the others, back up the side of the valley. There it was again. Sofie couldn’t shake off the feeling that there was something there. “Perhaps,” started Sofie, calling out to Donald, Tom and the rest of the team. 

They stopped, and looked back, waiting for her to continue. “Perhaps, we could walk back in a different direction? Maybe, through the valley here?” Sofie suggested. Tired after a long day, Donald and Tom, didn’t resist. “A change of scenery might be nice,” shrugged Tom. The team turned around, walking in the direction indicated by Sofie. The humming grew louder. Someone, or something, was calling to her. 

All of a sudden, Sofie tripped. 

The box of tools she had been carrying scattered out over the dirt. “What on earth was that?” she muttered. She turned around to see her fellow team members staring down at the ground where she had tripped. Sticking out of the earth was a fragment of bone. Slowly, Donald approached it, examining it closely, his eyes grew wide with excitement. In eager anticipation, the team worked quickly, and quietly. Bone by bone, they continued to appear. 

They worked on into the night. A campfire, helping to provide light for the delicate work at hand. Carefully, they started piecing the bones together. After hours of work, they stood back, a number of hand bones were missing, but nonetheless they stared in excited disbelief. “Well team, this day will go down in history,” declared Donald. “What we have here,” he continued, “is the skeleton, of, an early human.” The team erupted in cheers. 

Drinks were shared, and the song “Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds” crackled away in the background, as they celebrated into the early hours of the morning. Sofie sat at the edge of the excavation, contemplating the life of this ancient ancestor. Who was she? How did she end up here? She tilted her head, and stared up into the shimmering sky above. “Well, what should we name her? She needs a name!” Donald exclaimed. “We should call her Lucy,” Sofie declared as she stared up into the sky. 

Cleveland Museum of Natural History, Ohio, 2025

“Children! Children!” shouted the volunteer guide, Rosa. “Have our ears stopped working again?” The school children looked at one another. Some rolled their eyes and giggled, while others continued to talk and laugh. “Can anyone remember how many years ago the dinosaurs lived?” Persisted Rosa, her voice getting shrill in agitation. “Can’t anyone remember?” “I’m so sorry, I think they are done for today” apologised the teacher profusely. “We may as well head back out the front of the museum while we wait for the bus. The kids can have a rest and a run around” suggested a fellow teacher. 

The students collected their bags and moved to the lawned area. Some kids ran around playing chasey, while others sat on the ground, plucking the individual blades of grass. “Ok, have we got everyone?” “I think we are missing one.” “What? How can we be missing one?” “Who is it?” Panic descended among the staff. “It’s Ella.” “When was the last time anyone saw her?” With a flurry of activity, museum staff and volunteers were called into action in search of the young girl called Ella. 

Elaine spotted her from across the gallery. The young girl, in her tidy uniform, a bow keeping her long mane of hair together, transfixed by an exhibit. “Excuse me,” Elaine bent down to the child. But, as though hypnotised, the girl didn’t respond. “Excuse me. Are you Ella?” Repeated Elaine. Without taking her eyes away, Ella nodded. “Can I help you get back to your class?” Asked Elaine. “But, look!” said Ella. “Look at what?” asked Elaine. “Look,” Ella repeated. “Her name is Lucy, and she looks….. she looks just like us.”    

Notes 

I recently attended a talk by the wonderful historian, Bettany Hugues, during which, she talked about the concept of genetic memory. Through genetic memory, it has been proposed that some behaviours and experiences are inherited; such as the innately human propensity to wonder. 

Personally, there have been countless times where I have caught myself staring up the night sky, wondering about the people who have come before us – what their stories are, and how we are all, in some way, connected. Whether it is one of our early human ancestors, a pilgrim from the late medieval period, an anthropologist working out in the field, or a small child scurrying about at our feet, we are all linked. Our stories woven together in this great tapestry of life.  

Notes of a Time Traveller began as a way for me to continue exploring and sharing my love of history. It was during my undergraduate studies in evolutionary biology where I became captivated by the story of Lucy’s discovery. A skeleton of an early human, the species would later be called, Australopithecus Afarensis. 

I then spent many years working with some incredible animals. Primates and bears in particular, captured my heart. I would spend hours pouring over books about their ecology, behaviour, and evolution. As time moved on, I was drawn into the world of Tudor history. From which, I am yet to depart. But I am constantly thinking of the lives of the people who have lived before us. How we can tell their stories and what the extant records can tell us about their lives. When we depart this earth, how would we like our story to be told? 

Through Notes of a Time Traveller, I share book reviews, pieces of historical fiction, travel, and research. My historical research has begun with the early life of Anne Boleyn, the second Queen of the infamous King Henry VIII. But who knows where it will lead, as I venture through history, exploring the lives of those who have walked this earth before us. 

Lucy Menadue

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About the Author

Lucy Menadue is an educator, researcher and writer who lives in South Australia. She has a Bachelor of Science with Honours in Ecology and Evolutionary Biology, and Masters in Education. Lucy has a particular passion for Tudor history, and researching the lives of women. Find out more ar 

www.notesofatimetraveller.com and follow Lucy on Instagram, Threads and Bluesky @lucymenadue.bsky.social

Book Launch Spotlight: The Wartime Chocolate Maker, a World War 2 novel by Gosia Nealon

Available from Amazon UK and Amazon US

Poland, 1943. I inhale the rich caramel scent as I carefully tuck a folded slip of paper under the delicate chocolates. My heart races as the door opens, and I lock eyes with my childhood sweetheart. If he found one of the secret messages hidden in every box of my creations, my life and my family would be in terrible danger…

Working in her father’s chocolate factory, Kasia risks her life every day hiding notes vital to the Polish resistance in the carefully packaged boxes. The information tucked beneath the truffles is crucial to freeing her country and her family from the Nazis. But each of her recipes is sent out under the watchful eyes of her boss, Sebastian—the man who broke her heart.

She has never been able to reconcile the kind, sweet boy she once adored with the man now allied with the Germans. Yet the more time she spends around him, the more he seems to hint at sympathizing with the resistance. And the risk of revealing everything to him seems to shrink day by day.

Until one coded message hidden among the rich chocolate makes her fear for her mother and brother’s lives. And though she’s on the factory floor with a group of fellow resistance women, she can’t let on what she knows. Because her network has been betrayed.

As she searches the faces of those closest to her for any sign of guilt, her eyes meet Sebastian’s, full of care and concern. With time running out, Kasia wonders if she can trust him with this deadly secret? Or are the soldiers already on their way to arrest her?

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About the Author

Gosia Nealon is a gold medal winner in the 2022 Independent Publisher Book Awards (IPPY) for Europe-Best Regional Fiction. Award winner in the Genre Short Story category in the 89th Annual Writer’s Digest Writing Competition, Gosia's debut novel, The Last Sketch, was named one of the best New Historical Fiction books by BookAuthority. Find out more at Gosia's website https://www.gosianealon.com/ and find her on Twitter @GosiaNealon