Thursday, July 17, 2014

FRIDAY FREEBITS - FALSELY ACCUSED

FRIDAY FREEBITS
http://mizging.blogspot.com

Another short excerpt from my Books We Love, Historical Romance. Falsely Accused.

Maryanne lay down on the cold hard floor. It was horrible having to listen to hacking, consumptive coughs, and women fornicating in the darkness. Finally she slipped into an exhausted sleep.

“Wake up, we’re leaving.” Libby shook her vigorously.

“What!” She rubbed the sleep from her stinging, watery eyes. “Where to?”

“The docks. This is it, Maryanne, we’re on our way to Sydney Town.”

They were ordered to wash in a trough filled with cold, black water. There was only one piece of coarse, hard soap, and Maryanne quickly washed her hair and body. Fortunately, they were amongst the first, thanks to Libby elbowing and pushing them to the front.

They gave her a drab, brownish/grey gown, made from canvas in the prison sewing shop.

“Keep your other gown,” Libby instructed. “It is good quality, might be handy later on if you get a chance to wash it.”

How humiliating having to lift up her skirt and expose her bare ankles and legs so a ferret-faced turnkey could clamp fetters around her ankles. His vile comments made her cringe inwardly, but Libby’s silent warning forced her to stand still and endure the indignity without complaint. Finally, they were loaded into an open wagon in groups of ten, chained together like rabid dogs.




 

Thursday, July 10, 2014

FRIDAY FREEBITS - FALSELY ACCUSED



Hi everyone,
My Friday Freebits is taken from my historical romance novel, Falsely Accused.

  Screams spewed from Maryanne’s mouth. Silas charged into the room and his backhander sent her sprawling at the foot of the bed.

“You killed her. Murderer,” she screamed the words out over and over.

Three vicious slaps administered in quick succession almost decapitated her, but she struggled upward and threw herself at him, fists and legs flailing.

Sarah entered the room brandishing a large kitchen knife. They struggled over it like starving animals fighting over the one prey. As Maryanne grabbed the point aimed at her face, she felt the blade slicing through her palm.

She twisted and turned trying to escape. Sarah suddenly gave a blood-curdling scream as the knife plunged into her shoulder. Silas lunged forward. He rained blows all over Maryanne’s face. Grabbing a handful of hair, he drove her head into the floor, again and again until she lost consciousness.


 

 

 

Thursday, July 3, 2014

FRIDAY FREEBITS - MARGARET TANNER - FALSELY ACCUSED

FALSELY ACCUSED - MY LATEST RELEASE FROM BOOKS WE LOVE



Maryanne’s fingernails gouged into her palms as she sat on the hard wooden pew with her teeth clenched so tightly together her jaw ached. Even a dog should not have been left alone in such a distraught state, yet Silas Watson claimed to be a man of God.

At least once a week, their father found reason to beat them on their bare buttocks. His clawed, birdlike hands were as strong as those of a blacksmith as he ferociously wielded his cane.  Sarah stood there, watching it all, with that pious expression Maryanne loathed.

They must get away, but how? Could she perhaps get a position as a domestic? Slaving away in a London factory, living in some slum or even the workhouse had to be better than living in a quaint little village that nurtured such evil. As soon as Fiona recovered sufficiently, they would leave. I’ll do anything to get us away from here.

Maryanne, like a dutiful daughter, stood next to her father and Sarah while the congregation filed out of the church. Her heart felt so full of hatred and loathing, she wondered why it did not explode.




 


Thursday, June 26, 2014

FRIDAY FREEBITS - MARGARET TANNER






HAUNTED HEARTS

“You no-name trollop.” Hazel Palmer’s strident tones ripped into Abby. “You tricked my son into marriage by getting pregnant. He never should have taken that posting to Australia.”

“Robbie and I loved each other,” Abby yelled back.

“Stop this shouting.” Bob Palmer’s cold voice sliced into the fraught atmosphere of the kitchen. “I will not tolerate it.”

“I want this tramp out of my house.” Hazel marched around the kitchen like a demented witch.

“Lower your voices,” Bob growled. “The neighbors might hear you.”

“And we couldn’t have that,” Abby shrilled. “They might find out how you treat your son’s widow.”

“You listen, my girl.” Bob grabbed her by the arm, his fingers pinching her skin as he shook her. She would have bruises on her arm tomorrow.

“If you don’t like it here in Englandyou can leave,” he continued his eyes hard and pitiless. “But Rosie stays with us.”



Monday, June 16, 2014




 
ALLISON'S WAR:  The war news went from bad to worse. The French, outnumbered and outgunned, retreated towards Paris. Belgium had fallen and was occupied by the Germans, but for her, Allison shuddered. It was spring, a time for new life, and a new life grew inside her, callously put there by Phillip.

Rolling up newspapers to start the fire, pure chance had her staring at the social pages. Blood pounded through her veins as she read the few devastating lines: “Queensland society wedding of the year. Phillip Ashfield, only son of Lord and Lady Ashfield of Yorkshire, England, married Miss Isobel St. John, only daughter of Colonel and Lady St. John formerly of Herefordshire, England, now residing in Queensland.”

The room tilted, and she clung to the table until it righted itself again. She stared at the wedding party. Six attendants. What did she care that the bride wore a white silk gown adorned with imported French lace? The bridal couple was returning to England immediately, as Phillip Ashfield, a graduate from Sandhurst, was anxious to join his father’s old regiment.

Well, Miss St. John was welcome to him, but the sheer vileness of it overwhelmed her. Even as he forced himself on her, he had planned to wed another woman. How could a man be so heartless?

It was terrible being so desperate and alone, Jim and Tommy away, her father hardly home and then never sober. She rode recklessly, moved and lifted heavy objects, took scalding hot baths, but nothing happened.

Maybe she should go to the police and tell them what Phillip had done, but who would believe her now? What good could it do? Would the minister know of a place where girls in her predicament could go? Visions of slaving away in some terrible workhouse rose up like pictures on a canvas. Abortion? The word gave her the shudders. Some backyard butcher? Vomit rose up in her throat.
 
ALLISON'S WAR

Dishin It Out - Ginger Simpson

http://mizging.blogspot.com/
                

Sunday, November 3, 2013

A ROSE IN NO-MAN'S LAND



My latest novel, a Rose In No-Man's Land is set against a background of the Great War.
The soldiers in the trenches called the nurses who tended them, the roses of no-man's land.

Award winning manuscript
 Sister Amy Smithfield is carrying on her family’s military tradition in the only way she can, as an Australian Army nurse. Dedicated to her calling, she has sworn off interest in men for the duration of the Great War in Europe . When she literally runs into Mark Tremayne, an English captain in the Australian army, her real struggle begins.

Mark has his own reasons for keeping any relationship with the opposite sex in the casual mode, and he fights to deny his attraction to the petite blonde nurse who stirs his senses beyond the ordinary.

Their battle against love continues from Australia to the Mediterranean to France . When Amy is captured by German soldiers, Mark realizes how much she means to him — but can he overcome pride and find Amy after his jealous anger pushes her away?
 http://amzn.com/B00B64HHAU

 

 

Friday, August 23, 2013

THE BRAVEST OF THE BRAVE - MARGARET TANNER


Have you ever met a real life character, someone so different to your preconceptions?

I certainly have, a few years ago I met a real-life hero, and I would have passed him in the street and never have known that he had performed a feat of valour that won him the Victoria Cross, the highest decoration for bravery on the battlefield in the Australian and British army.

In 1854 during the Crimean War, The Victoria Cross came into being. It was named for Queen Victoria and was the highest award for valour. The medals were struck from a bronze Russian cannon captured in the Crimea.

Like the American Medal of Honor, only the bravest of the brave receive this award.

The first war in which any Australians won the Victoria Cross was in South Africa (1899-1902), six were awarded. In the 1st World War sixty four Victoria Crosses were won by Australians, in the 2nd World War the number was twenty. Four were awarded for The Vietnam War, and four Victoria Crosses have recently been awarded to Australian soldiers who fought in  Afghanistan. In some instances the medal was awarded posthumously.

I had always thought of heroes as young, tall, strong and virile looking, always confident, sometimes brash even (like the heroes in my wartime romances). Of course, the heroes from Afghanistan are young men, the same ages as my sons, but my experience dates from a number of years ago.

I worked in a medical clinic that treated war veterans.  I had seen this man’s file and I couldn’t believe it when I saw that he had won the Victoria Cross and a couple of other valour awards. I couldn’t wait to see this real live hero. I knew I would recognise him straight away. I mean, he would be old because he had served in 2nd World War, but he would have a presence about him, I didn’t doubt that for a moment.

An old man shuffled up to the counter. He was thin and short in stature, made worse by being hunched over, and his hair was grey and sparse. He quietly gave his name, his voice wavering, almost apologetic, because he obviously thought his presence here was causing extra work for me.

When he handed in his appointment card, I was shocked, this little old man was a hero, one of the bravest of the brave.

2014 is the centenary year of the start of the 1st World War, or the Great War as it was called.
On August 4th 1914, the Germans crossed the Belgium border and Britain declared war on Germany.The Australian government immediately promised to supply 20,000 troops. In fact the number eventually ended up being over 300,000 before the war ended in 1918. This was bloodiest and most costly war Australia would ever be involved in.

My novel, Allison's War, is set against a background of the 1st World War and I have also writen three other novels set during this period.