Reviews : historic

Arabella Sheraton grew up on a diet of Jane Austen, the Bronte sisters, and many other writers of that period. From Jane Austen to Georgette Heyer, Arabella has found both enjoyment and inspiration in sparkling, witty Regency novels. She also loves history and generally finds the past more fascinating than the future. Arabella wrote her first Regency romance to entertain her aged mom who loved the genre. Arabella is honoured to share the adventures of her heroes and heroines with readers.

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A witty traditional Regency romance that will captivate fans of the genre.

When Helena Wainwright accompanies her two young nieces and her nephew to stay at Rotherham Park with their new guardian who is their uncle, the Duke of Rotherham, she agrees to remain for six months to help the children adjust to their new life. She finds the handsome, charming Duke of Rotherham to be the most insufferable, self-opinionated, domineering and arrogant man she has ever met. Unhappily, the duke also holds an unflattering opinion of Helena. “Wayward was the only word to describe such a determined, contrary, and obstinate young woman who defied him at every turn regarding the upbringing of his wards. He would be very glad to see her go.”

The Duke of Rotherham is contemplating making Miss Emily Fanshawe, a beautiful, and (everyone thinks) well-bred young woman an offer of marriage. However, Emily has terrible secrets to hide, besides having a clandestine lover. Helena discovers Emily's secrets and does not know which way to turn. If she reveals the truth to protect the duke's social standing, she will betray Emily, with dire consequences. Besides, the duke seems determined to marry Emily, simply to prove a point, even though his godmother, Lady Mildred Ormsby has suspicions the Fanshawes are not who they say they are! Emily’s mother is hell-bent on marrying her daughter off to a rich, preferably titled, man. She will let nothing stand in her way, even stooping to abduction and possibly murder.

Can Helena win in the face of heavy odds and the machinations of a wicked schemer? And will she want the Duke of Rotherham for herself when hidden elements of his romantic past come to light?

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Q&A with the Author:

1.Why do you choose to write romance? Do you write any other genres?
a)I wrote my first Regency romance novel to entertain my mom who was an invalid. I do write in other genres but prefer to be known for my romances.

2.How long does it take you to write a book, typically?
a)It depends on the depth of the plot but generally a year from start to final editing and completion.

3.Since a lot of romance books show both male and female perspectives, share with us the most difficult thing about writing the perspective of the opposite gender?
a)I don’t have any problems writing from the male perspective. Possibly because I have four brothers?

4.What would you say is your interesting writing quirk?
a)I start every romance novel with a catchy title. Nothing else. Then I wait for the story to emerge in my imagination. I’m not sure why I do it this way, but it works for me.

5.Tell us a bit about a future project you are working on? Do you have any little sneak peeks you can share?
a)I’m working on a time travel/murder mystery Regency romance which is absolutely intriguing. I love reading murder mysteries and have always wanted to write one.

6.What is the most romantic date you have ever been on? Or, what is your idea of the perfect Valentine Date?
a)When I first met my husband, we went on a date to a restaurant and were so involved with talking and getting to know each other that we never ordered dinner. The waiter put us in a corner and forgot about us but since we had forgotten about everything else, it was fine.

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When I was about three, my mom said, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” I think she was expecting me to say, “A mommy, like you.” Instead, I popped off with, “I want to be a writer.” I can still remember her face. She said, “Well, don’t you think you need to learn to read first?”

I didn’t think so.

Terry Bohle Montague is a BYU graduate and a free-lance writer, having written for television, radio, newspaper, and magazines including The Ensign and Meridian Magazine. She has also been published as the author of book length historical non-fiction and fiction.

Her non-fiction work includes the book, Mine Angels Round About, the story of the LDS West German Mission evacuation of 1939 which occurred only days before the Nazi invasion of Poland.

Her LDS fiction, Fireweed, is loosely based on her interviews with the evacuated West German missionaries and their families.

Terry studied with Dwight Swain and Jack Bickham, as well as David Farland. Her writing awards include those from LDS Storymakers, Idaho Writers’ League, and Romance Writers of America.

Lisel Spann has dreamed only of wonderful things in her future. Living with her father, sister, and brother in a cramped apartment in Berlin, the small family shares what seems to be an unbreakable spirit of love and security. However, with the rise of the Nazi party and approaching dark clouds of war, any kind of future grows increasingly uncertain. Knowing little of hate and destruction, Lisel is ill prepared as the storms of battle erupt in full fury and loved ones are taken from her as her beautiful city is reduced to rubble.

With fear and despair rising within, it is through her quiet, compassionate father that Lisel discovers faith and hope. Now, in a desperate journey to find her sister, Lisel and her neighbor flee Berlin and the advancing Russians for Frankfurt, a city under the protection of the Allies. But their flight to safety is filled with pain, hunger, and terror. However, with spiritual lessons and blessings from her father, the support of departed loved ones, and her tried but undying faith in a loving Heavenly Father, perhaps Lisel can emerge like the fireweed—rising strong and beautiful from scorched earth —transforming bitterness and despair into a charity that never faileth.

Pick up your copy today
www.amazon.com/Fireweed-Terry-Montague-ebook/dp/B013KWPB4O/

Excerpt 2

Lisel put her arm around Susanne’s shoulder. “Hush now. It will be all right soon.” Lisel heard the returning hum of the airplane. She tilted back her head as if she could see skyward, but there was only the white plaster of the ceiling above her. From the movement of the sound, Lisel knew the aircraft had banked and was circling back. As it drew closer, the sound became angrier, the hum of a fierce buzz. Lisel pulled in a deep breath and squeezed it in her throat.
Then she heard it. The shrill whistle of the plummeting bomb. Next to her, Susanne screamed. Lisel pulled Susanne down so they both crouched low to the floor, their arms over their heads.
The explosion rocked the walls. The light went out. Lisel heard the bursting, shattering glass from the windows upstairs. She heard the panicked screaming of the other women. Plaster dust from the ceiling swirled around her and she choked. It seemed any moment the walls would give way. But they stood.
For three hours, the women of the Wittenau Munitions Works huddled in the dark cellar and listened to the battle above them. Lisel and Susanne held each other. Under her breath, Lisel
prayed. “Please, Father. Please protect us. Please protect Papa and Marta and Michael and Kurt. Please make it stop.”
Some of the time, repeating the prayer blocked the sounds of the aircraft motors and bombs and explosions. Some of the time, horrifying visions of Papa and Marta under tons of brick flashed with searing clarity through her mind. Some of the time, she thought of Michael and wondered if this is what it was like for him. Except she knew it must be worse. Michael would be outside, unprotected from bombs and bullets and shrapnel. And some of the time, she wondered where Kurt was and prayed for him, too.
She prayed for the anti-aircraft gunners. And at the same, in her desperation to have it end, she prayed the gunners’ mark would be true. Some of the time, Lisel envisioned her own death and knew she could not survive the night. The basement of the Wittenau Munitions Works would be her grave.
The “all clear” came at nearly three-thirty. Lisel and Susanne pulled each other up. “Is it over, then?” Susanne asked.
“Yes,” Lisel answered. The bombing was over but the fear was not. She must get home to Papa and Marta.
Lisel followed the other women out of the cellar. Her legs ached and her knees shook under her weight. She hesitated at the door, certain to the bottom of her heart that her world had been destroyed. Papa and Marta were crushed beneath their burning apartment house.
“What a mess,” she heard one of the women declare.
Lisel stepped into the workroom. Glass was everywhere. Tables were turned over. Grenades scattered across the floor. An odor of phosphorus hung in the air. She ran to the glassless window. Next door, in an empty lot, a huge, black crater smoked. Lisel searched the city in the direction of her home. The red glow of firelight showed where bombs had fallen but, to Lisel’s surprise, the glowing spots were few. A tiny hope let itself shine. Perhaps Papa and Marta were safe after all. With anxiety at her heels, Lisel ran toward the door.
“Workers!” Herr Hahn shouted.
Reluctantly, she stopped. There would be serious trouble for her now if she left. Stilling her feet, she turned.
“Our glorious defense system has defeated the enemy and driven him out,” Herr Hahn said. “Now, we must also defeat the enemy. We will prove our superiority by finishing tonight’s quota along with our quota tomorrow night.”
Lisel waited only as second more before she bolted for the door. A hundred women came right behind her.
The scheduled train was late that morning. Someone thought the tracks might have been damaged in the bombing. A huge knot of worry tightened in Lisel’s stomach until she thought she would throw up. She fought back her nausea by pacing the wood floor of the dark, crowded railway station.
Mutely, Susanne sat on a bench, her fingers bunching and unbunching. Some women, like Susanne, sat in silence, muffling sobs. Other women, in frustration, decided to walk to their homes. Lisel dismissed the idea. For her walk would take hours and if Papa had survived, he might try to come to Wittenau for her and they would miss each other. She would wait here for a train.
At last, with the sun shining through the low, gray clouds, Lisel boarded her homeward train. Then, she ran all the way to her street. Nowhere did she see any damage at all. Her heart nursed a renewed hope.
At her corner, Lisel leaned against the lamppost, breathless and weak with relief. Her apartment house still stood, tall and stone-faced, looking as it had always looked. “Thank you, Father,” she breathed.

(Continue on with Excerpt 3 on another blog)