A spy in the making? #MFRWHooks

This is a blog hop. Be sure to check the link at the bottom to see posts from other authors!
Perilous Love by Jan SelbournePerilous Love
Blurb
Europe is on the brink of the First World War. Gabrielle and Adrian, their marriage on the rocks, are thrust into a world of territory lies and deceit. Not knowing who to trust, they find themselves fleeing for their lives across war torn Europe, the brutal German forces are hot on their heels, determined not to let them escape. Adrian is between the devil and the deep blue sea as he’s accused of treason and doesn’t know what awaits him back in England. All he does know is he must reunite his family safely back in England. Will this mend their broken marriage or tear them apart forever? The odds are stacked against their survival. Will they have what it takes to overcome obstacles?

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MFRW Book HooksExcerpt
Adrian Bryce nodded to the doorman of Number 2, Whitehall Court, Westminster and walked briskly towards the waiting car.  While not handsome in the classical sense, his immaculate attire, bearing and manner was one of wealth, authority and confidence.  He was a man who gives orders, never receives them.  His dark eyes set in an angular face barely concealed his anger and worry.  He knew, along with everyone else with a brain, that war was looming in Europe.  Since the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand and his wife, rumours and intrigue and political double talk had been flying through Britain and the Continent.

Now, because of his family connections in Europe, he’d been ordered to accompany his wife and children on their annual visit to her stifling Belgian relatives who’d never emerged from the Victorian era.  It did not matter to the men at Whitehall Court that he and his plain boring wife of eight years, the mother of his plain, boring children, had lived separate lives for five years.  His wife was related to aristocratic families both here and in Europe and had been introduced to him at a diplomatic reception and as both were expected to marry well, he thought it a good match at the time.  However, their honeymoon proved they had nothing in common except for them to do their duty and produce children.  For the last five years they’d rarely spent time together except for the annual Christmas rituals and the children’s birthdays.  He preferred his townhouse in London, she and the children lived at their country home in Kent.

As the car turned in the direction of the small elegant lodgings in Bruton Street, his mind and body were anticipating what would be waiting for him.  Beautiful, voluptuous, passionate, pleasing Maryanne, Christ he was becoming hard thinking about her.  He couldn’t wait to push his head between her magnificent breasts and soak in her body.  He’d enjoyed the charms of several women but never before had he experienced anything like the heat and passion that Maryanne gave.  She was expensive, but she was worth every penny he spent on her.

Stepping out of the car, he told the driver not to wait, opened the ornate door and strode up the thickly carpeted staircase and into the beautifully furnished rooms.

‘Adrian, my darling,’ she put out her hands to him. ‘You have kept me waiting, you dreadful man.’  The beautiful, auburn haired woman pouted playfully then smiled, highlighting her high cheekbones and tawny eyes.  Her husky accent inflamed his lust even more and he pulled her to him.  She mouthed ‘wait’, dropped her loose robe to the floor, and then her warm breath was against his ear.

‘Darling, I cannot wait a minute longer.’ Taking his hand, she led him to the adjoining bedroom.  Neither wanted foreplay, both desperately wanted release and it came quickly.  Collapsing on the pillows, they smiled at each other.

‘Why do you keep me waiting?’ she tickled his chest.  ‘Your note tells me one time and you arrive at another.  Is there another woman you prefer to me?’

‘I wouldn’t have the strength,’ he chuckled.  ‘I was delayed at a rather important meeting.  I’m now obliged to travel to Brussels, my sweet.  Will you miss me?’

‘Brussels?  Why must you go away?’ She stroked his cheek.  ‘I will be alone and so hot thinking of you.’

‘Family duty.  I must accompany my wife to visit her relatives.’  He wanted to tell her more.  She was intelligent and her conversation refreshingly different from the polished, elegant, brittle women of his class. But he couldn’t, the real reason was classified.  He shrugged.  ‘Some of my investments in Belgium and France need my personal attention.’

‘You have so many investments.  You will be away from me forever,’ she sulked.

‘I know what I’ll be thinking of while I’m away.  Tell me where you were born. France or Belgium?’

‘On the border, I do not have happy memories.  I have told you all this, my papa was German.  He lost all his money and disappeared.  My mother struggled to feed and clothe us. Not one of his horrible family cared about us.  I hated them all,’ she pushed his fingers into her moist folds.  ‘Why are you accompanying your wife?  You never accompany her anywhere.  Don’t you love me anymore?’

He watched her eyes glaze with pleasure as his fingers pushed deeper into her wetness.  His lips touched her nipples and he felt her hips grinding against him.  Then she cried out and clutched at him as her body shuddered with its shattering climax.

Mon Dieu, je vous adore,’ she whispered and moved down his body to his painfully swollen organ.  Her lips enclosed him, her tongue drove him up and up and he was lost.

God Almighty, she gave as good as she got every time.  Slowly opening his eyes, he ran his fingers through her auburn hair, ‘Not love you?   Christ, I can’t get enough of you.’

‘Darling, let me get up so we may drink some wine.’

He lay back on the huge pillows and watched her naked body move to the bottle and crystal glasses waiting on the dressing table.  She was beautiful.

‘Who is so important you must visit in Brussels all of a sudden?’ She pouted crossly and handed a glass to him.

‘The Comte de Meyvier, the patriarch of Gabrielle’s Belgian family. She spent a lot of her childhood in Belgium,  I can’t stand him and I’ve avoided most family occasions for years but I’m afraid I must go this time,’ he savoured the wine on his tongue and gestured for her to refill his glass.  ‘He has a lot of influence in banking and commerce.’

***

An hour later he looked at his watch and at Maryanne.  ‘I must leave, my sweet.’

Tears glistened in her eyes. ‘Will you think of me?’

‘Think of you?  I won’t think of anything else. I’ll send you notes and will inform you when I’m due to return.’  He pushed a little packet into her hands.  ‘Don’t even think of looking at another man.’

Adrian walked back towards his club with a small smile on his face.  Maryanne had been his mistress for three months and he was besotted with her.  She instinctively knew what he wanted as soon as he walked in her door, whether it be passionate sex or to talk over a bottle of wine.  His mind drifted back three months to that overcrowded reception for German and French industrialists.  He’d turned and bumped into her standing behind him.  She’d smiled at his profuse apologies and said she’d forgive him if he fetched her a glass of champagne.  The next morning, he sent her a note with a posy of flowers asking permission to call on her.

A week later she was installed in the small but comfortable townhouse.  Many times since then, she’d asked him if he loved her and he always assured her he did.  But he didn’t.  He couldn’t remember loving any woman.  Obsessed with lust over her, yes, but actually in love?  No.  And he would never fall into that trap.  His satisfied smile disappeared. The meeting today had worried him intensely.  Like it or not, he must travel to Brussels immediately.

***

Maryanne waited until she heard the front door close before opening the packet.  A diamond and pearl necklace twinkled up at her.  She kissed it lightly, murmuring in German how beautiful it was, then sat down and pulled the perfumed notepaper and pen towards her.

Thanks for reading!
Jan
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Character desires—Jan #MFRWauthor

Historical charactersAs a reader what attracts you most to a character?

I think all of us want to read books with a captivating story and memorable characters, books we can’t put down until the last page.

I’m not attracted to the he-man with hot eyes, growling voice and the body of Adonis, or the luscious blonde with an impossible hourglass figure because they aren’t real.

It doesn’t matter if our choice is historical, modern or futuristic, I believe our characters should have faults and flaws, just like us. We can relate to how she’s feeling when those scales notch up another 5 pounds, smirk a bit when he finds a few more grey hairs, mutter ‘don’t be so damned stupid’ when they stuff up and feel happy for them when they come through.

Downton Abbey, the incredibly popular British drama television series, is a perfect example of wonderful true-life characters. Whether they were the aristocracy, the poor relations or below stairs servants, they were not plastic stereotypes, they were believable. Just the same as not wanting a good book to end, we hated saying goodbye to them.

I loved the Poldark series, based on the novels of the same name by Tin mine in CornwallWinston Graham. Those characters, with their strengths and weaknesses, held millions of people captivated until the final scene.

I’m sure what attracts us to these characters is seeing a bit of ourselves in them.

What do you think?

Read the next blog in the blog hop by going here.

Jan

Perilous Love
The Proposition
The Woman Behind the Mirror
Lies of Gold—Silver Historical for 2019: Coffee Pot Book Club

NSW Climate—Jan Selbourne #MFRWauthor

What do you like/dislike about the climate where you live?

Winter in AustraliaThe official version of the climate in the Hunter Valley, New South Wales, is mild and characterised by four very distinct seasons. The tourism people say much the same when advertising the coastal areas and wineries. They are diplomatically referring to three of the four seasons.

My favourite season is autumn, mainly because it’s a welcome relief after summer. We don’t have the lovely autumnal colours of the norther hemisphere, but the pleasant days and cool nights are, for me, the best.
Winter begins in June but it’s not until July and August that we begin to shiver. However, snow occasionally falls on the Barrington Tops and I’m convinced the icy winds aim straight for my house.

Late July into August we see the first wattle which means spring isn’t far Wattle floweraway, and it is nice. This year the change from winter to spring happened virtually overnight. Last week we were shivering from awful cold August winds and today, 2nd September, it’s a lovely 23 degrees and a warm breeze. After the drought breaking rains fell last February, and continued through autumn and winter, the spring countryside is looking fabulous. Green everywhere, daisies popping up all over and my climbing rose is covered in yellow blooms.

I left summer until last because it’s my dislike. The climate and tourism people tell us the Hunter Valley average maximum temperatures between December and February range from about 27 degrees C (81F) along the coastline to 30 degrees C inland (86F) The climate and tourism people were sitting inside a fridge when they penned those figures. December’s temperatures, between high 20s and mid 30s are just warm-ups for what’s to come in January and February. Humid 30s to 40’s without much relief.

Last summer, during the worst fires in living memory, the Hunter Valley turned on a few 45 degrees days, just to remind us who was boss. The sun might have gone down at night, but I don’t think the temperature followed. You can see why autumn is my favourite season.

I’m three likes and one dislike, so I guess I am very fortunate – as long as I get can through summer.

What do you think?

Read the next blog in the blog hop by going here.

Jan Selbourne

Perilous Love
The Proposition
The Woman Behind the Mirror
Lies of Gold—Silver Historical for 2019: Coffee Pot Book Club

Writing time—Jan Selbourne #MFRWauthor

Week 35: Plots: what period in history and why

Historical romance authorEvery period in history is fascinating. The Greeks, the Romans, Genghis Khan, William the Conqueror, Robin Hood, they all have stories to tell. However, I believe the Tudor period and the Regency period are the most popular for authors and readers.

The Tudor period was dominated by Henry VIII creating the Church of England, divorcing wife number one and removing the heads of wives two and five as the years went on. Bloody Mary lit fires under the heretics, and her sister Elizabeth brought peace and power to England, although Elizabeth did remove the head of her plotting Scottish cousin. Those larger than life Tudors and William Shakespeare have given inspiration to authors and playwrights around the world.

The Regency period was more romantic and prettier. It was a renaissanceRegency romance couple of art, literature, architecture, fashion and music – and stiff class distinctions. We’d be lost without Jane Austen’s window into the times in which she lived, and Georgette Heyer’s wealth of historical detail in her books. Of Heyer’s fifty-five novels published during her lifetime, twenty-six are set specifically within the English Regency period and, incredibly, no one took their clothes off. I’m no prude, far from it, I am in awe this brilliant author, whose books are still in print, can still capture millions of readers and take them back to that romantic period.

World War One changed our history and our world in ways that nobody could have imagined. Empires crumbled, royal dynasties wiped out, massive social change – and women got the vote. I’ll sneak in my “Good on ya Kiwis,” to New Zealand, the first country to give women the vote.

BVS sale: Perilous Love Jan SelbourneIn Perilous Love, Adrian and Gabrielle Bryce are thrown head-first into this huge upheaval when the Germans invade Belgium, sparking World War One. Their privileged lives disappear when they are betrayed, forcing them to run for their lives, suffering injury and witnessing death and atrocities. They reach safety as two very different people, to face charges of treason and a woman who’ll stop at nothing to see Adrian dead.

What do you think?

Read the next blog in the blog hop by going here.

Jan

Perilous Love
The Proposition
The Woman Behind the Mirror
Lies of Gold—Silver Historical for 2019: Coffee Pot Book Club

The story behind the woman #MFRWHooks

This is a blog hop. Be sure to check the link at the bottom to see posts from other authors!

The Woman Behind the Mirror by Jan SelbourneThe Woman Behind the Mirror

Blurb:
Betrothed by her father to a man twice her age, Sarah Forsythe runs away with the son of a Methodist minister. Not to Gretna Green, to colonial America—the New World. For Sarah, a new world of broken promises poverty and shame. Around her, the American Revolution is simmering, and the siege of Boston worsens by the day. As British soldiers seek out traitors and treason, a desperate Sarah breaks open a safe looking for cash. Instead, she finds a box holding Bank of England documents. Through willpower, bitter determination, and lying through her teeth, Sarah manages to make her way home to England. What she doesn’t know is that two men follow, and they will do anything to claim those documents.

Bank investigator Neil McAlister faces an almost impossible task—to determine the true owner of the documents by deciding who is lying. Most of all, as danger creeps ever closer, he needs to know who wants the secretive, beautiful Sarah dead.

Buy Links

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Available in Kindle Unlimited

MFRW Book HooksExcerpt:
Sarah watched the door open and her heart almost stopped beating when Neil McAlister and a tall muscular man with a trim goatee beard walked into the room.

Frozen with shock she could only stare at Samuel Fenton. But it wasn’t Samuel Fenton.

Her strangled, “You aren’t,” was cut off when Neil began his introductions and Robert stepped in front of her to shake the man’s hand. She heard her brother’s hearty, “Mr Westfield, I am delighted to meet you. May I introduce my wife Hannah?”

The man put his handkerchief to his mouth and coughed. “Forgive my frog like voice. This wretched cold will not leave me.” He bowed to Hannah. “I am honoured to meet you, Mrs Forsythe.”

Robert took Sarah’s hand and drew her forward “And my sister, Sarah Langford.”

A low bow. “Mrs Langford, I understand you endured much hardship before returning to England. To be told you found and brought my personal papers with you left me speechless. It’s nothing short of a miracle and I cannot adequately express my gratitude.”

Sarah murmured a greeting and lowered her eyes.

Robert cleared his throat. “Mr Westfield, before we begin, allow me to thank you for your generous hospitality.”

“My dear, Mr Forsythe,” the man responded before coughing again into his handkerchief. “It was the very least I could do after such trial and distress.”

Robert picked up the decanter again. “I was about to enjoy your hospitality, sir. May I pour us a glass of wine or perhaps whisky?

“Thank you, a small whisky would be most welcome.” the man replied.

“Neil?”

Neil inclined his head. “I cannot say no. Then if you don’t mind, we will finalise the transaction as discussed.”

“Of course.” No one spoke while Robert poured whisky and handed glasses of wine to Hannah and Sarah. He then held up his glass to the room. “I am very relieved this has been settled amicably.”

“I am extremely relieved.” The man lifted his glass to Sarah. “My compliments.”

Sarah felt the blood pounding through her veins but did not move. Her stomach churned when polite conversation began on London’s expanding population, the dangerous highwaymen robbing innocent travelers, and the sudden sad death of a minor royal.

When the glasses were emptied, Robert stood up and handed the leather folder to the man called Westfield. “A very satisfactory conclusion. My sister has signed the necessary agreement.”

“Thank you, and if I may, I’d like to say a few words.” The man turned to Sarah. “It is indeed a small world, Mrs Langford. I did not think we would meet again after such a tumultuous time in Boston.”

Robert’s brow creased. “Pardon?”

“Mrs Langford and I were acquainted at Griffins club,” the man said smoothly.

Look him directly in the face and do not quail. “I am afraid you are mistaken sir. I do not know you,” Sarah said evenly.

The man inclined his head. “We do look very different in the light of day, but I remember you well in those crowded smoky rooms.”

“What are you talking about?” Robert said sharply.

“I was part owner of Griffins gentlemen’s club. Mrs Langford, known there as Adele, worked as a”—he gestured eloquently—“for want of a better word, hostess.”

Hannah had risen and was staring at her. All of them were staring at her. “Mr Westfield, I am afraid you have me confused with someone else.”

The man’s hard hazel eyes glittered into hers. “No, I’m not confused. Your husband David Langford disappeared leaving a mountain of debts and you destitute. I was with Fenton when he paid the turnkey a shilling to release you from the cells. It was work for him or die on the streets. You were one of three women employed to pour drinks and keep our clients gambling and satisfied in the clubrooms and”—he paused—“upstairs.”

A pin dropping would have sounded like gunpowder exploding.

Sarah did not move. “Mr McAlister, I am appalled you willingly brought this man here to insult me.”

As if snapping out of a trance Neil stepped forward. “I am at a loss, Westfield. Not once in our discussions at the bank did you say you knew Mrs Langford.”

Claude’s eyes never left Sarah’s. “You didn’t ask, and the purpose of this meeting was for me to collect my personal papers.” He sighed. “While it pains me to reward a whore for stealing, I will honour the agreement.”

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Characters and how you wound them #MFRWauthor

Your characters: made them have disabilities?

I didn’t consciously set out to give Adrian Bryce, Perilous Love, a disability until he and Gabrielle were hiding from German soldiers in a hay loft.

Adrian’s life of wealth and beautiful women came to an abrupt end when the British Secret Service ordered him to accompany his estranged wife Gabrielle to Belgium. They wanted evidence her uncle was supporting the German Empire. What Adrian found, as the Germans crossed the Belgian border sparking World War One, had them running for their lives. It’s in this loft, that Gabrielle learns of Adrian’s infidelities, his lies and his secret life. Then, when it’s safe to climb down, he falls breaking bones in his foot. This injury is a great leveller, not only is there a price on his head, he can’t walk and must rely on the woman he’d shamefully neglected to get them to safety.

Not many people survive a war without physical or emotional injuries.

Harry Connelly, The Proposition, was one of the ‘what the hell’ soldiers.  He enlisted to escape arrest and a wife who despised him. On the eve of the Battle of Amiens, he meets Andrew Conroy, a man with no family. In the thick of that huge battle a bayonet slices through Harry’s leg and he collapses beside the body of Andrew Conroy. Could he? It’s a huge risk, it’s his only hope.  Harry swaps identity discs. Now Andrew Conroy, he’s one of the thousands of casualties and injuries in overcrowded hospitals, and eventually discharged as medically unfit with a leg that leaves him lame. Months later, the impact of this deception hits home when an unknown cousin of the dead man finds him. What follows pushes Andrew into a nightmare of murder and deception. His disability will be his alibi and almost his downfall when he meets Lacey, with secrets of her own. The only way to get to the truth is tell her the truth.

What do you think?

Read the next blog in the blog hop by going here.

Jan Selbourne

Perilous Love
The Proposition
The Woman Behind the Mirror
Lies of Gold—Silver Historical for 2019: Coffee Pot Book Club

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Spies, lies, and lovely gold #MFRWHooks

This is a blog hop. Be sure to check the link at the bottom to see posts from other authors!

Lies of Gold by Jan Selbourne

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Who claimed I nearly killed a Spanish diplomat?”

“His aide, you threatened him as well.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well, get out.”

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

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

About Jan:
Jan Selbourne was born and educated in Melbourne, Australia and her love of literature and history began as soon as she learned to read and hold a pen. After graduating from a Melbourne Business College her career began in the dusty world of ledgers and accounting, working in Victoria, Queensland and the United Kingdom. On the point of retiring, she changed course to work as secretary of a large NSW historical society. Now retired Jan is enjoying her love of travelling and literature. She has two children, a stray live in cat and lives near Maitland, New South Wales.

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This modern age! #MFRWauthor

Online dating – have you? Would you?

Online datingNo, when I was dating there was no ‘online’ as we know it today, although there have been forms of online dating for years – the personals in newspapers.

Would I? I don’t think so, I’m not that brave.

The closest I got to dating someone I’d never met before was a blind date. I was a bundle of nerves. My clothes, my hair, would he take one look and run? Worse, what would he look like? Fortunately, we didn’t run in opposite directions and had a lovely evening.

However, someone I know very well did test the online dating waters. She was at a crossroads in life, not sure which way to go and took the plunge. After chatting with a few people from various parts of the world, she connected with an American guy. I didn’t worry about this harmless chatting, after all she was in Australia, he was safely tucked away on the other side of the Pacific. Just like pen friends in the old days.

That changed when she decided to travel to America to meet him.Meeting someone online
Dumbstruck, I spluttered, “Are you insane? Who is he, where does he live? Don’t you know con men and axe murderers lure unsuspecting females this way?” Finally, “You’re bloody mad.”

Undeterred, my daughter, who hates flying, travelled to the USA to meet the axe murderer. They clicked. She flew home, applied for her visa which was approved, and returned to the States. A couple of years later they married, she became a conditional permanent resident, then full permanent resident. Her citizenship application was approved on 9/11/2018.

I’ve enjoyed some wonderful holidays in the USA with my daughter and son in law and the bonuses that came with it. Visiting the beautiful Michigan Upper Peninsula and Niagara Falls are just two.
Now COVID has all of us confined to quarters, I’m grateful for ‘online’, where we can chat to friends and families on Skype and Facetime until it’s safe to travel again.

What do you think?

Read the next blog in the blog hop by going here.

Jan Selbourne

The Woman Behind the Mirror
The Proposition
Lies of Gold—Silver Historical for 2019: Coffee Pot Book Club

A reflection from behind the mirror #MFRWHooks

The Woman Behind the Mirror by Jan SelbourneThe Woman Behind the Mirror

Blurb
Because of an arranged marriage to a man who repulses her, Sarah Forsythe runs away with the son of a minister. Not to Gretna Green, to the New World. Instead of a country filled with hope and possibilities, Sarah finds broken promises, abandonment, and shame. And her timing couldn’t be worse! After the infamous “tea party,” the siege of Boston worsens as the Americans rebel against Great Britain. Desperate for money, Sarah breaks open a safe only to find a bundle of Bank of England documents. Sensing they are of value, she guards them during the long, difficult journey from Boston back to England.

Bank investigator Neil McAlister doesn’t believe this woman who claims she “found” the documents and wants a reward in exchange for them—until he’s faced with two men using the same name and sharing nearly identical stories, each saying the documents belong to him. Who is lying? In time, Neil becomes aware that something is very wrong. As his feelings for her grow, he needs to know who wants the beautiful, defiant, and secretive Sarah dead?

Buy links

Amazon Kindle Unlimited
Goodreads

MFRW Book HooksExcerpt
When the small clock on her mantlepiece chimed seven fifteen, Sarah patted her hair and opened the door. Taking a deep breath, she walked down the staircase again and into the small breakfast room

“Good morning, may I join you?”

Robert put down the paper he was reading. “I prefer to breakfast alone if you don’t mind. Hannah doesn’t arise until after I leave.”

Sarah pulled out a chair and sat down. “I’ve been absent from England for some time, but I have not forgotten our customs. I want to speak with you about your holier than thou sermon to me last night, and I want to ask you a question.”

Robert’s face darkened. “I will remind you that you are in my home and if you wish to remain here you will abide by my decisions.”

Sarah reached over to grip Robert’s wrist. “I did a very stupid thing running away with David. I was young and so naïve it was pathetic. I have paid for my stupidity in more ways than you will ever know. However, I will tell you the siege of Boston was much worse than you, in your safe cocoon could imagine. Along with many others, I was forced into an infirmary for survival. The conditions were appalling but the alternative was starvation or disease or be murdered on the street for our clothes. Nova Scotia was not much better.”

Robert didn’t move.

“Your condemning letter was the only communication I had from home. You made it very clear I was shameful and shamed, and I could not argue with that. Then your letter inviting me here was a gift from the gods. I have paid for my sins and you have no right inviting me here to condemn me with your self-righteous judgements. Nor do I have to live here under sufferance listening to them. I have learned of Lady Webber’s new benevolent home for destitute women and I have decided to go there. It won’t matter to the inmates who I am or what I have done. What they and the benefactors will think of you is not my concern.”

Robert’s face was rigid with shock. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

Her fingernails dug into his wrist. “I can be as ridiculous as I wish. Now, I have a question and I’d like a truthful answer. You told me our father disapproved of Hannah. You defied him and married her. He decreed you’d married beneath your class and turned his back. How that must have hurt Hannah who has done no wrong. Tell me, why are you trying to be a replica of him? Pompous, autocratic, a dreadful snob and an unfeeling husband who delights in putting his nice, gentle wife down.”

Sarah sat back in her chair. “Papa decreed Hannah wasn’t good enough. I don’t think you are good enough for her.”

“You have no right speaking to me in such a fashion!”

“I have spoken to you and if you have half a brain you will admit I spoke the truth.” Her eyes narrowed. “I am not the innocent, protected girl running away from a prison of a home and a ghastly father who treated mama and all of us so badly. What I endured made me grow up and I learned that men are overbearing, selfish, spineless creatures. You are disappointed in me Robert? I am more than disappointed in you.”

“You’ve said more than enough,” Robert said icily.

“I’ve said exactly what I wanted to say. I had intended asking your advice on two important matters. One, some papers I found in Boston and two, a young woman I met who, I believe deserves some justice. However, I doubt you’d lower yourself.”

Sarah stood up and walked from the room drained but relieved the load on her chest had lifted. “Why?” she whispered. “One stupid mistake and I pay for the rest of my life.”

Yes, the voice in her head agreed. No one wants tainted, soiled goods. Live with it or enter a convent.

“Oh, shut up!” Sarah snapped but her throat was already aching. Dipping a handkerchief in the jug of water, she wiped her face and looked out the window. Spread out below were the rear gardens and orchard bathed in soft morning sun. She would love a garden like that.

A knock on the door made her jump.

“Yes?”

“May I come in?” Hannah asked softly.

Hastily wiping her eyes, Sarah turned around. “Of course.”

“I wanted to speak with Robert before he left this morning. The door was slightly ajar, and I heard what you said.”

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To vote or not to vote?—Jan Selbourne #MFRWauthor

Parliament House, Canberra, Australia

Without mentioning politics do you vote? Why or why not?

I have voted in every federal and state election since I was eighteen.
Why? Because I am damned lucky to live in a country where I can vote. Australia is a parliamentary democracy, meaning the people choose representatives at regular elections.

It is also compulsory. All Australian citizens over the age of 18 (except those of unsound mind or convicted of serious crimes) must be registered to vote and show up at the poll on election day.

The main reason for compulsory voting was our laid back ‘she’ll be right, mate’ attitudes. After Federation in 1901, the forging of the new Commonwealth was ‘a bit troubled’. The 5 million people spread around this large continent weren’t interested in voting. The new parliament was concerned and the impetus from both major parties to introduce compulsory voting was the stark decline in voter turnout. From 71% of registered voters attending the polls in 1919 to just 59% in 1922. The worried politicians agreed something had to be done before they were out of a job!

In 1924 compulsory voting became law and the impact was immediate. Voter numbers at the 1925 election rose to 91%. I bet there were sighs of relief within the hallowed halls of government.

Elections are held on Saturdays. Absent voters can vote in any state polling place or apply for a postal vote. Mobile polling facilities are set up in some hospitals, nursing homes, prisons and remote areas.

Of course, there are arguments for and against.

The For team –

It’s a civic duty comparable to jury duty, taxation, compulsory education. Parliament reflects more accurately the will of the people. The voter is only compelled to show up at a polling place, the actual voting is by secret ballot.

The Against team –

Infringement of liberty. The politically ignorant’ and those with little interest in the polls forced to attend. It may increase the number of ‘donkey votes.’

I personally feel giving up half an hour of my time once every three years is a small price to pay for a democratically elected government.

And, if you don’t want to vote, don’t complain later.

What do you think?

Read the next blog in the blog hop by going here.

Jan Selbourne

The Woman Behind the Mirror
The Proposition
Lies of Gold—Silver Historical for 2019: Coffee Pot Book Club