Tag Archives: historical fiction

A Crown in Time by Jennifer Macaire (Book Showcase)

Introducing TEMPUS U, the brand new time-slip series from Jennifer Macaire. From the far future to the distant past, A CROWN IN TIME is the perfect, action-packed read for fans of Jodi Taylor.
 
Since it was perfected in 2900, time travel has been reserved for an elite, highly trained few. However, on certain occasions, a Corrector is needed to rectify a mistake in the past.
Do your job well, and you’ll go down in history. Fail, and you will be erased from Time . . .

 

The first in an exciting new time-slip series, from the author of the action-packed Time for Alexander series, Jennifer Macaire. A CROWN IN TIME will have you on the edge of your seat from the very first page . . .
 
In the far future, a convicted criminal is given a chance at redemption. The Corrector Program at Tempus University is sending Isobel back in time, to the year 1270, to rewrite history.

Her mission? To save the crown of France.

If she follows the Corrector’s Handbook everything should run smoothly. But soon, Isobel finds herself accompanying a hot-headed young noble on his way to fight the infidel in Tunis: a battle Isobel knows is fated to be lost.

Isobel must fulfil her duty, knowing she can never return to her time, knowing one wrong move can doom the future, or doom her to be burned as a witch . . .

Praise for Jennifer Macaire’s Alexander series:
‘Fascinating . . . jam-packed with adventure and colour.’ Jodi Taylor
 

 
 
 
 
~~Excerpt ~~

 
Jean was already perched on the railing, his feet drumming excitedly on the wood, his eyes glowing. ‘Look!’ he cried, pointing toward shore. ‘The Saracens have arrived!’

In the indistinct light of dawn, I could make out a huge crowd of men and horses milling on the beach. I looked to the right. Another small army was camped on the bluff overlooking the harbour. On the left, tents were scattered across the land, and I could clearly see the glitter of light on the metal spearheads.

My head swam and I gripped the wooden railing until splinters dug into my palms. Unexpectedly, my stomach heaved, and I retched over the side of the ship.

‘Are you all right?’ Jean hopped off his perch and put his arm over my shoulders.

‘It’s just nerves.’ I wiped my mouth with a shaking hand. A shiver of fatigue washed through me, so I sat down on the deck.

‘There’s a whole shipload of sick people,’ said Jean conversationally. ‘They’ve all got swamp fever.’

‘Oh great,’ I said. ‘Malaria. That’s just what we need. I suppose King Louis is going to attack the Saracens?’

‘He’s planning to do that, yes.’ Jean’s face fell. ‘Our ship won’t be fighting, though. We’re going to retreat a way back and keep the king’s ship covered.’

‘That sounds like a sensible idea, don’t you think?’

‘The knights have been getting ready. I can hear the clanging of armour coming over the water. The sound carries well in the early morning. The horses have been kicking the sides of the ships.’

The noise of iron-shod hooves striking the wooden planks was distinct. The knights must be the first ones off. The ship crews, protected from arrows by large wooden panels, manoeuvred the ships backwards towards the beach. The ships carrying the mounted soldiers were simply hollow vessels that the horses surged out of in a tight group down two enormous gangplanks. There were thirteen of these ships, one having sunk on the way to Sardinia.

Our fleet boasted ten of another type of ship, designed for the archers with towers and shields. These, including the king’s own archers on their own special ship, would cover the cavalry’s flanks. The ships holding foot soldiers bobbed around the edges of the battle, searching for an opening to land.

The full force of the king’s army landed that afternoon and drove the Saracens out of the harbour without much trouble. The knights galloped their heavy chargers out of the bowels of the ships onto dry land, the archers rained arrows on the hillside and the foot soldiers charged gamely up the beach.

The Saracens retreated toward Carthage, their fiery horses galloping with their tails held high in the air like flowing flags.

Jean, Charles, and I cheered.
 
‘What happens next?’ asked Charles, his face pink with excitement.

‘We set up camp.’ Jean sounded morose, disappointed to have missed the action.

‘There will be other battles,’ I said, just as gloomily.

‘We’d best get our things in order if we’re leaving the ship,’ said Charles, ever practical.

I looked out over the water, toward the king’s ship floating so close to ours. All the flags waved jauntily in the hot breeze, and the king sat under his awning and waved his thin white hand at the soldiers on shore. His face was serene, joyful with the painless victory. However, it wasn’t a victory, really. The Saracens had simply wanted to see exactly what kind of an army the French king had brought. Now they knew.

 
 
 
 
Jennifer Macaire lives in France with her husband, three children, & various dogs & horses. She loves cooking, eating French chocolate, growing herbs and flowering plants on her balcony, and playing golf. She grew up in upstate New York, Samoa, and the Virgin Islands. She graduated from St. Peter and Paul high school in St. Thomas and moved to NYC where she modeled for five years for Elite. She went to France and met her husband at the polo club. All that is true. But she mostly likes to make up stories. 
 

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Kill Tut by Max Wannow (Book Showcase)

Ancient Egyptians, aliens, Neanderthals. Kill Tut is a historical fiction sci-fi novel. For a secret government operation in the near future, a team of three is sent back in time to kidnap King Tutankhamun.

New York, New York: 2041. The American-Egyptian War continues as more Egyptian battalions invade the USA. With the purpose of bringing the war to an end, Operation Golden Ankh is a top-secret Delta Force mission that consists of sending a team of three back in time. Captain Jackson Martindale, Staff Sergeant Laiklyn Ladore, and CIA Officer Dana Villa have seven days to complete the mission in the Eighteenth Dynasty of Ancient Egypt. To successfully complete the mission, the three must coerce King Tutankhamun to travel with them to the future. Forcibly kidnapping the pharaoh would lead to a domino-like disruption in the architecture of time. The three are quick to discover the past deviates from what history books provide. The ancient people of Thebes, Egypt resort to panic when their city is invaded by Neanderthal warriors; but when humanoid aliens with skin made of a malleable gold arrive, the Ancient Egyptians welcome them with open arms.

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Dana asks Mayamenti, “The enemies you speak about in your worship, would that be the Neanderthals?”

“All enemies,” Mayamenti clarifies.

“Those Neanderthals, where did they come from?” Dana asks.

Mayamenti attempts an explanation, “We used to be the people of the world, before the Neanderthals. The Neanderthals wiped us out and destroyed civilization. Then, we come from them to become us to restore civilization.”

Mayamenti’s interpretation conflicts with what Dana’s husband explained about Neanderthals. The way Dana understands it is, Neanderthals and humans have a common ancestor from which they evolved separately. What also confuses Dana, is she understands the Neanderthal species became extinct 36,000 years before 1323 BC. Yet, here they are.

Mope adds, “The Neanderthals lack heru.” The neuromorphic implants in neither Dana nor Jackson’s brain translated the last word into English.

Jackson asks, “What is heru?”

Mope says, “Heru is the power within ourselves that fights our animal selves. To be human, we must have heru. Without heru, we would have chaos like uncivilized animals. It is at our core beliefs as Egyptians to find order through chaos.”

“Do you have any water?” Jackson asks.

“Jackson,” Dana scolds, “that was rude.” She speaks to Mope, “In Hatti, we also have our own form of heru. It is important for us to be civil.”

Jackson returns with, “I just have a headache, and I need water.”

Mayamenti responds, “We have cold beer.” The room is silent for a moment. Then Jackson decides to awkwardly laugh. “You want beer?”

“No water?” Jackson questions.

“Water is unclean,” Mayamenti tells him. “Beer will keep you healthy. Don’t be scared, there is no Turkish morphine in it.”

Jackson knows he needs hydration, “Sure, I’ll have a beer.”

“Come with me,” Mayamenti says. “You too, Dana. You deserve a tour.” Mayamenti takes Jackson and Dana out into the hallway. The walls are made from sun-dried brick. She shows them the bedchamber where their bed has a wood frame. The mattress is made of folded linen and the pillows are made of rock. Mayamenti shows them the bathroom, which has a mirror made of polished brass, a bathtub made of copper, and the toilet is a clay pot filled with sand with a limestone seat situated above. The baby’s nursery is located in the second bedchamber of the home. One of the walls is a painted image of the hippo goddess, Taweret, the protector of women in pregnancy. On the opposite wall is the dwarf god, Bes, the protector from evil. The baby sleeps in a bassinet made of sycamore wood. The kitchen is a shed in the backyard without a roof. In it is a clay oven where a servant bakes bread.

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Max Wannow is an independent absurdist novelist, who describes his work to be thought-provoking and discomforting. Simply put, Max Wannow is not for everybody. Aside from being an independent author, he currently lives in Wisconsin and works as an environmental geologist. 

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Civil Warriors by Tracy A. Ball (Book Showcase)

Civil Warriors:  A story of Love and Possession

There were things the Sagamores could and could not do:

William defied all social norms.
Georgie could be trusted with any secret.
Georgia Anne did as she pleased.
And, John Richard would kill a man for hurting her.

But,

William could not keep his feelings hidden.
Georgie could not let an innocent man die.
Georgia Anne could not be a slave.
And, despite going to hell, John Richard could not stop loving her.

 

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~~ Excerpt ~~

The hot ice of Eleanor’s voice brought the world back with crashing awareness. The center of the Conrac Ball was not the place to kiss Georgia Anne, to hold her intimately.

Eleanor stood shoulder to shoulder with Augusta Conrac and her husband Jesse Senior. Doctor Will and Uncle John followed them over, and behind them all, Lucy and Jesse Jr. held twin smirks.

“What do you think you are doing, young man?” Jesse Sr. puffed himself up to his full height of five foot seven.

“I will not tolerate this behavior in my home.” Augusta Conrac pointed to Georgia Anne.

“Hasn’t she caused enough scandal?” Although Eleanor was right up on them, she didn’t lower her voice. “You besmirch the Sagamore name.”

“Littlebit, get your wrap. We’re going home.”

Shaking, Georgia Anne turned away. 

Lucy dogged her.

Eleanor opened and closed her fan with exaggerated force. “What an outrageous spectacle. This behavior must cease, at once.”

“We’re leaving, Mother.” 

“I demand you remove that negro-hussy from my house.” Mrs. Conrac raised her voice to match Eleanor’s. 

“Now, ladies,” Uncle John tried to push the sound down with both hands. “Calm down. He said they were leaving.”

“Leaving, I should hope so.” Jesse Sr.’s head bobbed up and down.

“You should never have brought her,” Eleanor said.

“This is a respectable home,” Augusta reminded them.

“Actually, William brought her—” 

“Don’t muddle the issue, Will.” Eleanor shooshed him. “John Richard, I demand you apologize for…for…everything.”

“I demand you atone for the sin you’ve brought into my home.” Augusta nodded, agreeing with herself.

Jesse Sr. said, “This party cost me a fortune, young man. You’ve ruined it. I demand reimbursement. Every penny.”

Eleanor added one more requirement to the list. “I demand you get rid of that niggra.”

“Yes,” Augusta said. “It’s the only way.”

A muscle in John Richard’s lip twitched, as if he would smile. “Demand, and be damned.”

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Novelist, Reviewer, Content Editor, Blogger, T-shirt Wearer, and Professional Snacker; Tracy A. Ball is a native Baltimorean and a veteran West Virginian whose family is blended from three cultures. She has opened her home to foster children, drug addicts, AIDS victims, and anyone who needed an assist. She knows people who have committed murder and people who have dined with the pope.

Which is why she writes sweet stories about tough love, tough stories about sweet love, and takes long naps.

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