I finished my edits on The Visionary and sent them off Tuesday. Thursday was Valentines Day, Hubby and I are getting ready to go on vacation this week, one of my co-workers left, so work is busier than usual...whew!
Today I'm spotlighting Sandra Worth and her book Lady of the Roses.
From "a gifted literary talent" comes a sweeping epic of defiant love, high adventure, and the resilience of the human spirit. Based on history, this is the story of young Isobel Ingoldesthorpe and Sir John Neville, medieval ancestors of Franklin Delano Roosevelt and Sir Winston Churchill, who cultivate their love as violence erupts all around them in England's Wars of the Roses . . .Read an Excerpt!
Amid lightning, thunder, and the pelting rain of a summer storm, a castle appeared in the distance, as if in answer to my prayers. "There!" I cried, unable to restrain my great relief. "We can take refuge there, can't we, Sœur Madeleine?"
With the wind whipping her cloak around her, Sœur Madeleine turned her small, plump bulk in her saddle and, ignoring the young man-at-arms, Guy, directed herself to the squire accompanying us on our journey. "Master Giles, you know this place that is so curious?" she inquired. Her English was so heavily laden with the accent of her native Anjou that if I didn't listen carefully, she seemed to be speaking French. But she was right about the castle. Set in an open emerald field instead of high on a hill, and more like a magnificent country mansion inviting to guests than a fortress designed to repel enemies, it made a strange sight with its hexago– nal redbrick towers, large windows, and tall, narrow frame.
"I believe it belongs to Lord Ralph Cromwell, Sister," replied Master Giles, his horse's hooves sucking in and out of the sticky, mud-mired road. "I heard he built a castle of red brick in Lincolnshire called Tattershall."
"And this lord . . . which is his allegiance, the Red Rose or the White?"
Master Giles threw Sœur Madeleine a small, sardonic laugh. "No man can be sure, Sister— 'tis said Lord Cromwell changes color with the wind. He was King Henry's lord chancellor back in the thirties, but a few years ago he quarreled with the Lancastrians and wed his niece to a Yorkist lord. After the Battle of St. Albans, I heard he quarreled with the Yorkists and now considers himself a loyal Lancastrian adherent of the queen's."
Sœur Madeleine gave a horrified gasp. "Such a man is a traitor! In France we would know what to do with him."
From what I could see of Master Giles's face, hidden between his collar and his sodden wool hat, I could tell his thoughts: This was England, and a good thing too. Even the French queen who had wed our King Henry couldn't change that."
Perhaps we should not stop," Sœur Madeleine said suddenly, pulling up so sharply her horse almost lost its footing in a muddy puddle and snorted in protest. "Mon dieu, he may have changed back to York, and I will not take 'ospitality from a traitor!"
Master Giles and Guy rested their gazes on me, and their expressions told me I was the only one who could avert this setback. If we passed up this castle, we had no assurance of finding a hamlet with lodging for the night, and might well find ourselves sleeping under a tree. Wet and shivering with cold in the stinging rain, I too had been excited at the thought of a hot meal and a change of clothes. Now all stood in jeopardy. Fond as I was of Sœur Madeleine, she could be quite impractical. Fortunately, thanks to the kindly, almost maternal interest she had taken in me during the few weeks we had known one another, I had been able to use my influence with her for the benefit of our entire little party on the long journey from Marrick Priory in Yorkshire down to London. I took a breath before I spoke.
Lady of the Roses on sale now at yourfavorite bookstoreor online!
Well, folks that's it for today. Hopefully I'll post before we leave to visit our children/grandson or maybe while we're there.
If not, see you when I get back!
Until later....Be BLESSED!
Pamela S Thibodeaux
"Inspirational with an Edge!"
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