Welcoming G. J. Williams and her book - The Conjuror's Apprentice - to my blog

Today I'm welcoming G. J. Williams and her book - The Conjuror's Apprentice (Book 1 of The Tudor Rose series) - to my blog as part of the blog tour hosted by The Coffee Pot Book Club (founded by Mary Anne Yarde)

I am delighted to share an excerpt with you all, but first I will introduce the book.

The Conjuror's Apprentice

Born with the ability to hear thoughts and feelings when there is no sound, Margaretta Morgan’s strange gift sees her apprenticed to Doctor John Dee, mathematician, astronomer, and alchemist. Using her secret link with the hidden side and her master’s brilliance, Margaretta faces her first murder mystery. Margaretta and Dee must uncover the evil bound to unravel the court of Bloody Mary.

The year is 1555. This is a time ruled by fear. What secrets await to be pulled from the water?

The Conjuror’s Apprentice takes real people and true events in 1555, into which G J Williams weaves a tale of murder and intrigue. Appealing to readers of crime and well researched historical fiction alike, this is the first in a series which will follow the life, times, plots and murders of the Tudor Court.

Trigger Warnings:

Descriptions of bodies and the injuries that brought about their death.

Threat of torture; description of man who has been tortured.

Publication Date: October 6th 2022

Publisher: RedDoor Press

Page Length: 320 Pages

Genre: Historical Fiction 

You can purchase a copy of the book via -

Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Conjurors-Apprentice-G-J-Williams/dp/1915194199

Waterstones https://www.waterstones.com/book/the-conjurors-apprentice/g-j-williams/9781915194190

RedDoor https://www.reddoorpress.co.uk/products/the-conjurors-apprentice?_pos=1&_sid=30c68d694&_ss=r

Now for the excerpt -

The coach rattled out of St Dunstan’s onto Eastcheap and headed west. The night’s rain had made the road a mess of mud and small stones. Every few minutes, a large divot would make their vehicle lurch to the side. Margaretta clung to the window frame and stared out to stop herself getting sick in her stomach. Doctor John, dressed in his favourite coat of blue and his head well covered by his cap, was reading a document, apparently oblivious to the rolling and clattering. He had taken care to wash his beard this morning, so it shone like a dark waterfall from his chin to his chest. His face, prematurely lined but kind, was golden as the early sun shone through from the East.

Margaretta studied him. She had calculated he was only twenty-seven years old yet his face seemed to hold the history of a hundred men – though this was not so surprising. In his life he had already been a scholar in both England and in foreign lands, a tutor, a maker of fantastical models, a mathematician, an astrologer, and advisor to King Edward, the poor child. Even the great warrior knight, Sir Herbert of Pembroke, had trusted him in his household. John Dee had been born the son of an immensely rich wool-tax collector, favoured by King Henry. But now he was poor and ignored by Henry’s daughter, Mary Tudor, though he was ever seeking a route back to the riches of court, recognition and the resumption of the family fortunes.

In John Dee’s lap was a parchment covered in circles within a divided square. Words were carefully entered into a panel at the side while numbers littered the circles. Periodically, he would sigh and shake his head. ‘What is the document?’ asked Margaretta, bored with the silence now.

‘Another horoscope divined using my new method of measurement,’ came the vague answer.

‘Is it not foolish to carry such things out of the house, doctor? Anything but the words of the Pope is beckoning accusation these days and you…’

John Dee batted away the end of her sentence with an irritated wagging of his hand. ‘I need to check my calculations. If this is true then the tarot underestimated the future. This portends many enemies surrounding the Lady Elizabeth. I saw it last month when I conjured her first horoscope. But it worsens.’

Margaretta pushed her head out of the window to see if the coachman could hear them. Thank the Lord he was singing to himself and so taking no notice. She turned to warn Dee anyway but he was deep in contemplation again.

Margaretta stared out. The streets thronged with animals and people all busying their way through the detritus of the road. Hawkers screeched their wares, delivery boys shouted for a clear path to save dropping the huge packages on their back, well-dressed women held up nosegays and looked away from the beggars and children who held out hopeful hands. But not a single face held a smile. Yet only a few short weeks ago, the streets had been full of rejoicing, hailing of glad tidings; Te Deums were sung in every church. Priests thanked the Lord for the safe delivery of a son to Queen Mary and in the streets people danced as if this child was the second coming, here to save them from a terrible fate – being ruled by Mary’s husband, the very Spanish King Philip.

Then the rumours started. There was no cry of a newborn. Some said the queen had lied, others spoke behind their hands of Lord North trying to buy the babes of women who had birthed the child of a Spaniard; pamphlets shouted that the queen was dead. Court went quiet and London waited while criers claimed the doctors had simply miscalculated the birthing day. Sullen silence. Then the screams from the pyres started again.

As if he could read her thoughts, John Dee suddenly looked up. ‘You have not told me about your lesson yesterday.’

Margaretta swallowed hard. Recalling the flames and the screams would only raise the bile already collecting in her throat. ‘Cruel,’ she snapped, not looking at him.

‘Come, Margaretta. If you are going to hone your gifts you have to understand the full spectrum of men’s feelings, fears and fallacious thoughts. The good, the evil, the kind, the cruel, the intelligent and the witless. It is all part of our soul and you need to see them all.’

Margaretta turned bright, green eyes on her master. ‘I can feel evil without having to see its result, Doctor John. I’ll never forget those cries. Terrible it was.’ She sat back with a self- righteous huff.

Abruptly, her travelling companion looked out of the window, his face setting into a grim glare. ‘They will be with their maker now, Margaretta. There will be peace for them.’

‘But not for the poor souls sitting in a cell condemned to such an end…nor their kin who have to watch.’

‘That is enough, Margaretta.’

‘Then I have had enough learning for this week, doctor.’ John Dee sighed and stared down at his parchment.

Margaretta gazed at him. Strange. He is the only one I cannot read, cannot feel. I cannot sense the spirit below the skin. It’s as if he is able to block me. What thoughts fill that great head, other than dreams of getting to court and recreating his family’s position in the palace?

C. J. Williams

After a career as a business psychologist for city firms, G.J. Williams has returned to her first passion – writing tales of murder, mystery and intrigue. Her psychology background melded with a love of medieval history, draws her to the twists and turns of the human mind, subconscious powers and the dark-side of people who want too much.

She lives between Somerset and London in the UK and is regularly found writing on a train next to a grumpy cat and a bucket of tea.

You can connect with C J Williams via -

Twitter: https://mobile.twitter.com/gjwilliams92

You can learn more about the book and the author by visiting the other blogs on this tour -

Tour Schedule: https://maryanneyarde.blogspot.com/2022/09/blog-tour-conjurors-apprentice-tudor.html

That's it.

Till the next time.

Take care Zoe.

Welcoming Toni Mount and her book - The Colour of Evil - to my blog.

 Today I'm welcoming Toni Mount and her book - The Colour of Evil - to my blog as part of the blog tour hosted by The Coffee Pot Book Club (founded by Mary Anne Yarde)

I'm delighted to share an excerpt with you all, but first I will introduce the book.

The Colour of Evil

‘The Colour of Evil’

Every Londoner has money worries, and talented artist and some-time sleuth, Seb Foxley, is no exception.

When fellow craftsmen with debts to pay are found dead in the most horrid circumstances, fears escalate. Only Seb can solve the puzzles that baffle the authorities.

Seb’s wayward elder brother, Jude, returns unannounced from Italy with a child-bride upon his arm. Shock turns to dismay when life becomes more complicated and troubles multiply.

From counterfeit coins to deadly darkness in London's worst corners. From mysterious thefts to attacks of murderous intent, Seb finds himself embroiled at every turn. With a royal commission to fulfil and heartache to resolve, can our hero win through against the odds?

Share Seb Foxley’s latest adventures in the filthy streets of medieval London, join in the Midsummer festivities and meet his fellow citizens, both the respectable and the villainous.

Publication Date: 25 March 2021

Publisher: Madeglobal.com

Page Length: 334 Pages

Genre: Historical Fiction / Mystery

You can purchase a copy of the book via -

Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B08XXSMQQY

Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08XXSMQQY

Amazon CA: https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B08XXSMQQY

Amazon AU: https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B08XXSMQQY

Amazon IT: https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B08XXSMQQY

Barnes and Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/toni%20mount

Waterstones: https://www.waterstones.com/author/toni-mount/1143822

Praise for The Colour of Evil

Samantha Willcoxson, author & historian:

“Toni Mount is simply brilliant. If you love CJ Sansom’s Matthew Shardlake – and I do – you will love Toni’s Sebastian Foxley. From learning how a 15^th century scrivener created illuminated manuscripts to venturing within the dank tunnels beneath the Tower of London, Toni is an artist who completely immerses the reader in another time and place and always leaves one eager for the next book.”

Stephanie Churchill, author of historical fiction and epic fantasy:

“Leave it to Seb to unravel another international spiderweb of intrigue, betrayal, murder, and deceit. Our flawed, loveable hero has done it again. And at the end of it all, his future is looking brighter than ever. I cannot wait to find out what happens to him next!”

Sharon Bennet Connoly, author and medieval historian:

“A beautifully crafted mystery that brings the dark, dangerous streets of medieval London to life. Toni Mount is a magician with words, weaving a captivating story in wonderful prose. The Colour of Evil is, to put it simply, a pleasure to read.”

Kathryn Warner, medieval historian and author of numerous books about the fourteenth century, including biographies of Edward II and Isabella of France:

“The ninth instalment of Toni Mount's popular Seb Foxley series is sure to delight Seb's many fans. Mount puts her deep knowledge of late medieval England to good use once again, and takes us on another exciting adventure, this time with Seb's older brother Jude, returned from Italy, in tow. Mount's detailed world-building, as always, brings fifteenth-century London to life.”

Now for the excerpt -

The Hue-and-Cry (pp. 43-46)

Of a sudden, there came a shout of ‘Stop thief!’ from farther along Bladder Street. That set off the hubbub of the hue-and-cry. Neighbours hastened onto the street, sounding horns, clattering spoons on pots and pans, adding to the din. It meant Adam and I were obliged to join the chase, pursuing the miscreant, whoever he might be. Adam sprinted ahead, fleet of foot, with Gawain running at full speed, thinking this a fine game. They turned up Noble Street, betwixt the precinct of St Martin-le-Grand and the Goldsmiths’ Hall, disappearing from my sight, along with the crowd of others who ran, hoping to apprehend the villain.

Never much of a runner myself, I soon lagged behind, keeping company with a breathless old man and a woman encumbered with a sleeping infant on her shoulder and armed with a hefty ladle. We would ne’er catch the most sluggardly criminal but the law demanded we make the effort, or else be fined for aiding and abetting the same. My hip was hindering my progress, slow as it was, and by the time we reached St Vedast’s Church at the lower end of Noble Street, I had to pause to ease my protesting bones. The old man stopped beside me to catch his breath; the woman too.

It was then that I glanced up the alleyway beside the church. A pile of rubbish half-blocked the narrow passage. All was filth and grime and stank of stale piss. Yet there was just light sufficient to see a flash of red: a good shoe, I realised, protruding from behind the unsavoury heap of detritus.

I pointed it out to the old man, then put my finger to my lips.

The old man nodded his understanding. He and I crept forth, into the alley. Like so many such passages around the city, this one seemed to end in a blank wall beyond the rubbish. There would be no escape for the vermilion-shod thief – if it was he. I stepped around a broken, handle-less bucket and then a collection of rusted metal odds and ends so as not to alert our quarry. When we drew within a yard or two, we both dashed forward, shouting ‘Hold! Hold, villain!’

A middle-aged fellow leaped from his place of concealment and attempted to push us aside. I shoved him in one direction and the old man tripped him. As the culprit staggered back along the alley, into Noble Street, the woman with the infant awaited him. Her skilful use of the ladle without rousing the child was remarkable. She brought it down upon his head, then whacked him across his middle. He went sprawling in the dirt. The clang of metal as he hit the ground revealed his ill-gotten gains, hidden ’neath his jerkin. A gilded candlestick rolled aside, its partner lay sorely dented – mayhap by the ladle blow – beside the fallen fellow. We had caught our thief.

We dragged him to his feet and shook him awake, marching him back to Bladder Street. I had the stolen candlesticks tucked under my arm. The rascal began complaining and attempted to pull free as his senses rallied but the woman threatened him with the ladle and he came quietly, resigned to his fate.

The householder he had robbed greeted us as heroes, the more so when I returned the candlesticks, though he sorrowed at the damage done. We said naught concerning the ladle as the possible cause of the dents.

‘Ale! Ale for all!’ the householder cried as those who had spent their strength in the hue-and-cry began to trickle back, to report that the thief had got clean away. Most seemed delighted that we had apprehended the culprit but a few were annoyed to have gone to so much effort for no purpose. Others – including Adam – were disappointed to have missed out on the moment of capture.

‘There was naught exciting about it, cousin,’ I assured him.

‘Did he put up much of a fight?’ someone else asked.

I was about to tell him ‘nay’ but the old man – Todd by name, as I learned – made answer for me.

‘I’ll say. The devil fought us like... like a devil. Kicking and flailing and yelling filthy words at me, young Seb here, oh, and Alice... her with the babe-in-arms. So we pummelled him and took him by force, didn’t we Seb? He was lashing out, all to no avail. We was too much for him, wasn’t we?’

The event grew in the telling, Todd elaborating and inventing new details to each new listener who asked. He and I became more heroic in our actions as the evening wore on; the woman, Alice, the true heroine with her ladle, became relegated to the role of a mere on-looker. By the time the City Bailiff, my friend Thaddeus Turner, arrived to take the thief into custody, Todd’s tale had become one of knights errant upon some holy quest. He told Thaddeus how we had wrestled the sword-wielding scoundrel of unsurpassed strength to the ground, despite his casting of evil charms upon us, taking many a cut and buffet in exchange – no matter that we bore not a solitary mark from our encounter.

I shook my head behind Todd’s back, such that Thaddeus should see me.

‘I shall make a true report on the morrow,’ I mouthed to him, not wishing to spoil Todd’s hour of glory.

Toni Mount

Toni Mount earned her Master’s Degree by completing original research into a unique 15th-century medical manuscript. She is the author of several successful non-fiction books including the number one bestseller, Everyday Life in Medieval England, which reflects her detailed knowledge in the lives of ordinary people in the Middle Ages. Toni’s enthusiastic understanding of the period allows her to create accurate, atmospheric settings and realistic characters for her Sebastian Foxley medieval murder mysteries. Toni’s first career was as a scientist and this brings an extra dimension to her novels. It also led to her new biography of Sir Isaac Newton. She writes regularly for both The Richard III Society and The Tudor Society and is a major contributor of online courses to MedievalCourses.com. As well as writing, Toni teaches history to adults, coordinates a creative writing group and is a member of the Crime Writers’ Association.

You can connect with Toni Mount via the following platforms -

Website: https://sites.google.com/view/tonimount/home

Website: https://www.sites.google.com/view/sebastianfoxley/home

Twitter: https://twitter.com/tonihistorian

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/toni.mount.10/

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/toni.mount.10/?hl=en

Amazon Author Page: author.to/ToniM

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7481351

Fantastic Fiction: https://www.fantasticfiction.com/m/toni-mount/

You can also learn more about the author and the book by visiting the other blogs on this tour.

That's it for now.

Till the next time.

Take care Zoe.

 

 

 

Welcoming M Lynes and his book - Blood Libel - to my blog

Today I'm welcoming Michael Lynes and his book - Blood Libel - to my blog as part of the blog tour hosted by The Coffee Pot Book Club (founded by Mary Anne Yarde)

I am delighted to be able to share a review with you all, but first I will introduce the book.

Blood Libel

Seville, 1495

The mutilated body of a child is discovered behind a disused synagogue. The brutal Spanish Inquisition accuses the Jewish community of ritual child murder - the ‘blood libel’. The Inquisition will not rest until all heretics are punished.

Isaac Alvarez, a lawyer working for the royal estate, is a reluctant convert to Catholicism who continues to secretly practice Judaism. When his childhood friend is accused of the murder Isaac is torn between saving him and protecting his family. Isaac is convinced that solving the murder will disprove the blood libel, save his family, and protect his faith.

As the Inquisition closes in how far will Isaac go to protect both his family and his faith?

Publication Date: 31st January 2021

Publisher: Independently Published

Page Length: 260 Pages

Genre: Historical Mystery

You can purchase a copy via - 

Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B08TMHRPYW

Amazon US: https://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B08TMHRPYW

Now for the review -

In the town of Seville, nearing the end of the 1400s, there has been a murder, the murder of a young boy. The blame is pinned on the Jews and it does not take long for the Grand Inquisitor of All Spain to make his way into town, ready to do whatever it takes to find all the Jews and to rid the world of them. By his side is Friar Alonso, who, albeit less eager to torture and kill, helps with the mission at hand. In particular, there is one man that they are after – a man by the name of Isaac Camarino Alvarez. However, Isaac works for the King and to accuse him of lying about renouncing his faith and converting to Catholicism would require proof.

The absolute horror that befalls Isaac’s life was tragic to read about. He cannot save his friends without effectively giving up his family’s lives, which is something he cannot do. He has a wife and two children, whose lives are all dependent on the fact that none of them can slip up, say the wrong thing, look the wrong way. The Grand Inquisitor does not need much to condemn them and Friar Alonso is looking for anything and everything. With neighbors reporting on neighbors, many of those who are arrested are not Jewish, but the torture that they endure will either kill them or lead to a confession in the hopes that the pain will end. However, a confession means a death sentence and Isaac must endure the knowledge that people he knows are being tortured and killed, while he can do nothing to help without exposing himself. His situation is an incredibly difficult one and I felt for him, for what person wouldn’t do anything to protect their family, even if it meant watching other loved ones taking the brunt of the consequences.

The author has depicted a world that has come alive in the telling, bringing characters into it to tell the story of one man who must do anything he can to remain out of the inquisitor’s suspects, and of another man who is looking for any slip up that might lead to the success of his mission. I found it incredibly difficult to put this book down and the story seemed to build itself around me as I read, the terrible position that Isaac finds himself in making me silently hope that he would survive and that his family would get through the inquisition unscathed, even though it seems that such a thing is an impossibility.

M Lynes

Michael is an author of historical mysteries who writes under the pen name of M Lynes. He has a particular interest in early 16^th century Andalucia. He is fascinated by the interplay between cultures, globalization and religious intolerance of that period in Spain’s history. The ‘Isaac Alvarez Mysteries’ are set against this rich background. He won a prize for his fiction at the 2020 Emirates Literature Festival and is an alumna of the Faber Academy’s Writing a Novel course.

His debut novel ‘Blood Libel’, the first full-length Isaac Alvarez Mystery, was published in January 2021. Isaac, a lawyer working for the royal estate, must solve a brutal child murder to protect his family and his faith from the Spanish Inquisition.

Michael is hard at work on the second novel in the series and planning the third. He is originally from London but currently lives in Dubai with his family.

You can connect with Michael via -

Website: www.michaellynes.com

Twitter: https://twitter.com/MLynesAuthor

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/MichaelLynesAuthor

You can find out more about the book and the author by visiting the other blogs on this tour.

That's it for now.

Till the next time.

Take care Zoe.