Unusual Historicals: Cromwell Protectorate

Showing posts with label Cromwell Protectorate. Show all posts

01 November 2015

Author Interview & Book Giveaway: Alison Stuart on THE KING'S MAN

This week, we're pleased to welcome author Alison Stuart again with her latest novel, THE KING’S MAN (Guardians of the Crown Book 2). The author will offer a free copy of The King's Man to a lucky blog visitor. Be sure to leave your email address in the comments of today's author interview for a chance to win. Here's the blurb.

The second in a tantalising trilogy from award-winning author Alison Stuart, about warriors, the wounds they carry, and the women that help them heal.

London 1654: Kit Lovell is one of the King’s men, a disillusioned Royalist who passes his time cheating at cards, living off his wealthy and attractive mistress, and plotting the death of Oliver Cromwell.

Penniless and friendless, Thamsine Granville has lost everything. Terrified, in pain, and alone, she hurls a piece of brick at the coach of Oliver Cromwell, and earns herself an immediate death sentence. Only the quick thinking of a stranger saves her.

Far from the bored, benevolent rescuer that he seems, Kit plunges Thamsine into his world of espionage and betrayal – a world that has no room for falling in love.

Torn between Thamsine and loyalty to his master and King, Kit’s carefully constructed web of lies begins to unravel. He must make one last desperate gamble – the cost of which might be his life.

Tell us a little about yourself and your interest in the English Civil War?

I was born and brought up in Kenya and only moved to Australia when I was ten. Outside of writing I trained and practiced as a lawyer and now work as a Company Secretary. I am married with two grown sons, two gorgeous daughters in law and I am owned by a very loving cat.

My father loved history and every Sunday he would read to us from HIS favourite books (in retrospect, not always suitable for an 8 year old!). One of the books he chose was Daphne Du Maurier’s THE KING’S GENERAL, a fictional account of the real life Sir Richard Grenville, set in the English Civil War which tore England apart from 1642 until the restoration of King Charles II in 1660. I was mesmorised by the romance of the period, the intrigues and dangers of civil war and these dashing heroes in broad brimmed hats and bucket top boots. That was it. I was lost.

All through my growing up I would scribble stories in notebooks (some of which are still in existence), most of which were set in the English Civil War. I kept scrapbooks and saved up my pocket money for any reference book or novel I could lay my hands on.

I made the mistake of formally studying the period at University which just about killed the passion off and then there was marriage, children, careers etc.

It wasn’t until I dislocated my shoulder in a skiing accident that I returned to the English Civil War and started on what would be my first novel, now published as BY THE SWORD (the first in the Guardians of the Crown Series).

THE KING’S MAN is the second in the Guardians of the Crown series, tell us a little about the series and what we can expect.

The series covers the stories of three men (and the women who love them) across the years 1651 to 1660. It begins with the Battle of Worcester (the last attempt by King Charles II to regain his throne). That battle is pivotal to the lives of Jonathan Thornton (the hero of BY THE SWORD), Kit Lovell (the hero of the KING’S MAN) and Kit’s brother Daniel, who we meet as a callow youth in the first book but has his own story in Book 3 – EXILES’ RETURN which comes out in February.

Where the first two books can be read in isolation, it will probably help readers to have read Books 1 and 2 before Book 3 because EXILES’ RETURN brings the loose ends of the previous two books together.

What was your inspiration for THE KING’S MAN?

Inspiration can come from the strangest sources. THE KING’S MAN began as a snippet about a ‘Miss Granville’ who hurled a brick at Oliver Cromwell. I never discovered who she was or why she threw the brick so I made my own story. It happened to coincide with a time in London where every second inn was frequented by disillusioned royalists all plotting the death of Cromwell and the return of the King. They were universally unsuccessful owing to Cromwell’s brilliant spy network but as a plot for a book, it practically wrote itself.

Tell us about the hero of THE KING’S MAN, Kit Lovell?

Readers’ reactions to Kit have been very interesting. Like all my heroes he comes with baggage and is probably one of the most complex men I have written. He is not an easy man to like, let alone love, mostly because he doesn’t like or love himself. I really struggled with his motivations for some of the truly heinous things he does until he himself told me Daniel’s story (OK…that sounds weird… but that’s how writer’s roll – we know it’s working when our characters start talking to us) and then it all became clear.

Notwithstanding that Kit and Thamsine do earn a happy ever after and the worst of their problems are resolved, I do leave the fate of Daniel unresolved at the end of the book and I hadn’t realised how much that still affected Kit until I began to write EXILES’ RETURN. Normally my stories are told only in two points of view, hero and heroine but In Exiles’ Return, Kit gets a say. I hope that makes sense.

You live in Australia, can you share with your Northern Hemisphere readers a little picture of life ‘downunder’ at this time of year?

I live in Melbourne, the capital of the State of Victoria, which is right at the bottom of Australia. We wave (figuratively!) at Tasmania. Our last winter was pretty cold, for us. I know it surprises my American friends when I say it does snow here… not in Melbourne itself but certainly in the hills surrounding us.

Unfortunately I think we are in for a hot summer. Even in our little inner suburban garden we now have a large water tank for the plants and we are now self sufficient with solar power (go us!). We don’t ‘celebrate’ Halloween or Thanksgiving so it is a little shocking to find Christmas decorations appearing in our shops by the end of August!

But summer holidays are coming which for us means cricket (that inexplicable game!) and of course the Australian Tennis Open which is played right here in Melbourne so if you tune in, be sure to wave! Our family will take a week outside of the school holidays (which are only 5 weeks) to drive for TWO days to my husband’s childhood home in South Australia.

BUY THE KING’S MAN:

AMAZON, iBooks, and where all good Ebooks are sold (see Escape Publishing for the full list)

Thank you for hosting me today.

Today is the last day to enter my RAFFLECOPTER CONTEST for a chance to win a 6” Kindle Ereader… all you need to do is click HERE.

Allow me to take you back to 1654 … the years after a bloody civil that tore the country apart and saw a King executed. The new King, Charles II, sits in exile and England is ruled by a ‘Lord Protector, Oliver Cromwell…

29 October 2015

Excerpt Thursday: THE KING'S MAN by Alison Stuart

This week, we're pleased to welcome author Alison Stuart again with her latest novel, THE KING’S MAN (Guardians of the Crown Book 2). Join us again on Sunday for an author interview, with more details about the story behind the story. The author will offer a free copy of The King's Man to a lucky blog visitor. Be sure to leave your email address in the comments of today's post or Sunday's author interview for a chance to win. Here's the blurb.

The second in a tantalising trilogy from award-winning author Alison Stuart, about warriors, the wounds they carry, and the women that help them heal.

Far from the bored, benevolent rescuer that he seems, Kit plunges Thamsine into his world of espionage and betrayal – a world that has no room for falling in love.

Torn between Thamsine and loyalty to his master and King, Kit’s carefully constructed web of lies begins to unravel. He must make one last desperate gamble – the cost of which might be his life.

**AN EXCERPT FROM THE KING’S MAN**

London

February 1654

Thamsine Granville had not begun the day with the intention of killing Oliver Cromwell.

Around her a jovial crowd pressed against the barricades, determined to enjoy the spectacle of the Lord Protector’s ride in state to dine with the Lord Mayor of London. But from across the road, he had seen her. A triumphant smile crossed his handsome face and he raised his hand to his hat, doffing it as he bowed. She saw him mouth her name and push his way towards the barricade. Thamsine swallowed, her mouth dry with fear. She only had a few moments to make good her escape, but the press of people to her rear hemmed her in, pushing her toward the barriers.

The bells of London, silenced for so many years, rang out, and above her the flags of the City Guilds flapped in the chill wind. A roar went up from the crowd as the coach bearing Cromwell approached.

From where she stood she could see the Lord Protector, clad in a reddish-coloured suit embroidered with gold. He inclined his head to acknowledge the cheers of the crowd with all the aplomb of a man born to such a station. She could see no trace of the simple farmer he had once professed to be. Thamsine’s heart beat a rapid tattoo. Oliver Cromwell, Lord Protector, the false King, was about to become Thamsine Granville’s personal protector.

She stooped and gathered up the broken piece of brick at her feet.

Oblivious to his fate, Cromwell smiled, his right hand raised in a parody of benediction as if forgiving them their sins. At the sight of his face, solid and pudding-like, framed by the open window of the carriage, she raised her arm and threw with all the strength that she could muster.

The brickbat hit the body of the coach barely inches from the open window. She got a brief impression of surprise on her intended victim’s face. The coach stopped, the horses rising in their traces, whinnying in alarm. The crowd, stunned into silence, held its collective breath, every eye fixed on the ugly graze on the coach’s paintwork where the brickbat had struck.

A roar of approbation went up, but Thamsine Granville had disappeared. In the instant her fingers uncurled from the missile, someone had grabbed her from behind. Strong fingers dug into her arm and drove her with force through the crowd that parted before them like the Red Sea. She was only dimly aware of a commotion in the press around her. Soldiers yelled and a woman screamed but all she felt was utter despair. It had all been for nothing; somehow he had reached her.

The world roared in Thamsine’s ears. Her knees buckled and she could feel herself slipping into unconsciousness, only to be drawn back by a sharp, agonising tug on her arm as it was cruelly and expertly bent behind her.

‘Don’t faint, don’t you dare faint.’

She didn’t recognise the voice, and nearly screamed with relief. It wasn’t him.

‘Now, unless you want to end your life on a gibbet on Tower Hill, you will co-operate fully in what we are about to do,’ he said.

Her rescuer thrust her down a dark, noisome alley, pressing her back against a wall. The rough brickwork dug into her spine as he pulled her around to face him, pinioning her arms at her side. His body pressed against her and she closed her eyes, bracing herself for the blow or whatever punishment was coming her way.

She did not expect to be kissed.

Her instinctive reaction was to resist, but with her arms and her head immobilised she was reduced to trying to kick her assailant. He responded by placing a booted foot on her instep. She gave a muffled yelp of pain.

‘Who’s down there, then?’

A voice from the entrance to the alleyway caused her assailant to break off, allowing Thamsine the luxury of taking a deep breath. The fingers holding her arm tightened, digging into her flesh. It was a warning not to move, not to make another sound.

The soldier gave a ribald whistle. ‘Got yourself a tasty piece, then?’

In the shadows she saw her assailant turn his head towards the soldier. ‘Now then, sergeant. Can’t a man get a bit of privacy around here?’ he said in low and well-modulated voice, with an unusual undertone to the accent that she could not place.

‘What’s her charge?’ The sergeant’s voice again.

Thamsine squeaked in protest but the firm and painful pressure on her upper left arm deepened and she kept her peace.

‘My dear sir, there are some pleasures beyond price.’

‘We’re looking for a woman.’ The soldier’s voice became clipped and businesslike. ‘Just tried to kill the Lord Protector. Has she come this way?’

‘I doubt I would have noticed. I have been otherwise occupied these minutes past.’

Thamsine squirmed in the tight grasp. The easy, lascivious intonation of his voice made her want to slap him.

‘Well, good day to you, sir. I wish you joy of it.’

‘He’s gone,’ her rescuer said, removing his boot from her foot

Thamsine found her voice. ‘Let me go. You’re hurting me.’

‘Hurting you? Is that gratitude for saving you from the gibbet?’

He released her and took a step back. She straightened, rubbing at the place where his fingers had pressed.

‘Maybe I didn’t want saving.’

He stepped back and waved at the entrance to the alleyway. ‘Very well. No doubt you can catch up with the good sergeant, if that’s what you wish.’

To her embarrassment she started to tremble with cold, with fright, and with delayed shock, as the audacity and foolishness of what she had done began to sink in.

She had tried to kill the Lord Protector. Men had hanged for less.

In her desperate bid to escape him she had given no thought to what penalty she may have had to pay had she been apprehended. She owed this man thanks for her deliverance, but the words stuck in her throat.

She looked up at her rescuer. In the gloom of the alley it was hard to make out his appearance, and he wore a wide-brimmed hat that hid his face, but she could see that he was clean-shaven, his hair, dark and rough-cut, skimming an immaculate, white collar.

‘You do realise what you just did?’ he asked.

She nodded.

‘May I ask why?’

‘Because I wanted him dead,’ she said, without much conviction in her voice. It was not the Lord Protector she had wanted dead.

‘Well, I’m sure there are plenty who would share the sentiment, but hurling brickbats at a coach is hardly the best way to accomplish that end.’

She drew herself up to her full height. ‘And what do you care?’

‘I don’t,’ he answered. ‘I really don’t care at all. I have enough problems of my own without rescuing dim-witted whores who choose to hurl brickbats at the Lord Protector.’

‘I’m not a whore.’

He touched his mouth. ‘Well, you certainly kiss like one.’ (End Excerpt)

BUY THE KING’S MAN:

AMAZON, iBooks, and where all good Ebooks are sold (see Escape Publishing for the full list)

Thank you for hosting me today.

Please feel free to enter my RAFFLECOPTER CONTEST for a chance to win a 6” Kindle Ereader… all you need to do is click HERE.

03 June 2008

Religious Beliefs: Nice Guys, Jerks, and the Romance Writer

By Anna C. Bowling

The topic of religious beliefs comes to Unusual Historicals at a very appropriate time. Right now, I am moderating an online workshop on writing the inspirational romance, and preparing to give the message (others might use the term "sermon" or "teaching") at house church this week. Faith is an important part of my life, and that carries over into my writing. Though I haven't written for the inspirational market before, who knows what the future will bring? For the moment, I'm having fun with general market historicals and dabbling in time travel.

A little personal information before we get into the topic proper. I consider myself nondenominational Christian. I prefer a more intuitive sort of worship, but the DH likes more structured prayers. Among our friends, we have those of the Jewish persuasion; secular, Reformed and Messianic sorts; others who would class themselves as some combination of Buddhist, Wiccan or different pagan paths; the not-really-spiritual; plus Catholic and various protestant and non-denoms. When I wore my Blackbeard t-shirt with the infamous pirate's flag on it into a local store this past autumn, the clerk commented that it was the "time for the scaries" celebrations back in his home in India, around the same time as we have Halloween here in the USA. I've learned a lot from all of them, even though we don't agree on everything. Some things, yes. Some things, maybe. And some, well, we have to agree to disagree, and carry on carrying on.

Today, we might call such a mix of friends normal and have, as I did, an interesting discussion with the clerk over different celebrations. Some of the best conversations can be among friends of differing outlooks, sharing why they walk the path they do. In that, I think I can safely say we're blessed (or lucky, if you prefer), but in previous times (and some parts of the world even today, sadly) where different faiths might make friendships difficult, not to mention love affairs and even--gasp--marriage. Families on either side might have something to say against such a relationship, and even take drastic measures to keep it from happening, while others might prefer to find common ground and respect differences.

Henry VIII broke from the Catholic church so he might divorce his barren first wife and seek a more fertile bride...and kept on seeking. Houses in England constructed during that time might have had priest holes--secret rooms, sometimes no more than a closet or the size of a coffin, where Catholics hid from those seeking to do them harm. Catholics and Puritans didn't mix well during the Protectorate of Oliver Cromwell, and yet both found themselves faced with losses during the English Civil War.

Merely being Jewish during the time between world wars in Europe meant incredibly high stakes, never knowing when the knock on the door would end life as they knew it. Even so, bonds of friendship, love and marriage have formed across faiths for centuries, with no signs of stopping. Similarly, ask any member of a congregation, meeting, synagogue, coven, etc, about the group dynamics, and you'll hear about annoyances, betrayals, pet peeves, and bad habits, as well as heartwarming stories of support, generosity and going the extra mile. At a given moment, that depends largely on the individuals involved. This is what I've found most important in exploring a character's spirituality: the individual.

Plainly put, there are nice guys and jerks in all belief systems. While it's easy to rely on stock figures--the wise, mystic Easterner who sounds like he moonlights as a fortune cookie writer; the dour Puritan who never smiles, hates everything, and probably has never read his Bible because he's too busy smacking people with it; and so on--a writer can get far more mileage by showing the individual rather than the stereotype. For example, what images come to mind when I say "the Pope"? For some, the leader of their faith. For others, someone they wouldn't invite to dinner unless something lethal were on the menu.

For me, the first thing that I think of is Pope John Paul II wearing Bono's sunglasses, with both men looking appropriately impressed. That picture touches on a side of the man many may not think of at first, but doesn't it make him all the more human?

Which, of course, is a great tool for writers, especially those of romance. One of my favorite uses of spirituality in romance is Laura Kinsale's SHADOWHEART, where Allegretto, the hero, believing himself to be damned already, finally gives in to the heroine's pleas to go to confession. She won't until he will, and he believes there's still hope for her. He won't put her soul in jeopardy, and so he changes. Annette Blair's Amish historical, THEE I LOVE, shows an Amish community making a difficult decision to place what is right above a circumstance that might force them to do otherwise. Francine Rivers' "Mark of the Lion" trilogy shows a wide spectrum of first-century spirituality and good, bad and ugly behavior among not only the early Christian Church, but Jewish, Roman and German communities of the period.

It's the variety of the individual that makes every relationship unique, and as romance writers, that's one of our biggest goals: to make our couples stand out as lovers, so that readers will long remember them and want to visit again and again. Religion may play a small, large or somewhere-in-between part in a particular character's life, and those around them may have a wide range of faiths, but all have the same needs: to love and be loved. Individuals read our stories, and that's a special relationship, one to nurture. No matter what a character's religious persuasion (or lack thereof), if we as writers can make a reader connect with their deepest feelings, cry with their losses and rejoice in their triumphs, then we've done our job.

27 April 2008

Social Movements: Revolution

By Christine Koehler

Nothing says social change quite like revolution--not the social revolutions of the 1960s, but the kind mired in bloodshed and death. Revolution is from the Latin revolutio meaning a turnaround. A quick Wikipedia search shows a huge list of revolutions and rebellions through the ages. Pretty cool to look through.

England during the 1600s saw two major revolutions, one bloody and one not so much. The English Civil war was waged between Parliament (ruled by Cromwell) and King Charles I. Parliament and Cromwell were extremely conservative in thought and deed--it was considered a better alternative to outright military dictatorship--so the nobility tolerated it. Barely.

It was during this time that theatre was disbanded, and the roll of the church enjoyed a resurgence. Ironically enough, the Act of Uniformity which passed in 1559 declaring only the Church of England the only English church was dissolved. Other religions could practice so long as they paid tithes to the national church, now known as Presbyterian.

Cromwell also 'allowed' Jews to return to England. Seeing how they'd contributed to the economic superiority of Holland, he wished the same for his depressed country. Since he tolerated other religions, this seemed to fall in that purview.

The second revolution was The Glorious Revolution, or Revolution of 1688, that overthrew Catholic James II. While not entirely bloodless, it was less so than other rebellions, revolutions, and outright wars fought on the island.

James dismissed Protestant clergy, members of Parliament, and heads of office. He tried and hanged scores who protested his 'papish ways', and yet the country tolerated it so long as the throne passed to his Protestant daughter, Mary. And then he fathered a son. Things looked grim for the Protestant nation.

Of course he was also a total autocrat. In this time of change, that wasn't to be tolerated any more than his religion. On June 30, 1688, a group of Protestant nobles, known as the Immortal Seven, invited the Prince of Orange to come to England with an army. By September, it was clear William sought to invade. Believing that his own army would be adequate, James refused the assistance of Louis XIV. When William landed, many Protestants defected. James' army was in ruin.

James didn't last three full years on the throne.

Never again would Catholicism regain its major foothold in England, and never again would a monarch hold absolute power. In fact, Catholics were denied the right to vote and sit in Parliament for over 100 years. They were also denied commissions and the monarch was forbidden to be Catholic or marry a Catholic, thus ensuring the Protestant succession.

To be fair, my first exposure to this last revolution was a brief intro in Errol Flynn's Captain Blood.

References:
The Open Door
The Glorious Revolution Org
InfoPlease
Oliver Cromwell Org