Friday, August 29, 2014

FRIDAY FREEBITS - MARGARET TANNER - FALSELY ACCUSED

Hi everyone,
My friday freebits is taken from my novel Falsely Accused.
Don't for get to check out the other authors' Friday Freebits
http://mizging.blogspot.com

FALSELY ACCUSED

I’m going to see if they’ll let me speak with the surgeon,” Maryanne said.

“What’s the use, I’m going to die.” Libby started retching again.

“No you aren’t. Remember our pact. We will survive. Come on.” She took hold of the Irish girl’s hand. “Repeat after me. We will survive. We will survive.”

“Oh God, not feeling like this I won’t.”

“You will.”

Puddles of vomit squelched under Maryanne’s feet. The ship pitched and swayed even more dramatically, so as not to lose her footing, she grabbed on to the berths and edged along sideways. Fortunately, they were fairly close to the hatchway otherwise she never would have made it.

“Guard, are you there?” she yelled.
 
 

Wednesday, August 20, 2014

FRIDAY FREEBITS - MARGARET TANNER - FALSELY ACCUSED

For my Friday Freebits, I would like to present you with more of my historical romance novel, Falsely Accused.

Please check the other participants in the Friday Freebits at
http://mizging.blogspot.com

FALSELY ACCUSED:
I’m not hungry.”

“You soon will be. This is a feast compared to what you get on the prison hulks.” Libby pulled two coarse looking biscuits out of her pocket and Maryanne forced herself to nibble on one.

“Where did you get these from?” she asked the Irish girl.

“A friend.”

“How?”

“I bought them, along with a few other things. You can buy extras if you’ve got coin in your pocket.” Libby gave a mirthless laugh. “I’ve got nothing left now; I’ve been here eight months.”

“Eight months, and you’re still waiting for a ship?” Maryanne wondered fearfully how long she would be able to survive in this dreadful, disease-ridden place.

“Yes, when my coin ran out, I bartered the only other thing I possessed. I mean to survive, no matter what I have to do.”

“I’ve got nothing to barter with. All I possess is this old rag I’m wearing.” Maryanne glanced down at the filthy black taffeta gown she had worn for weeks. No wonder she felt so dirty and degraded.

“I know. That’s why I felt sorry for you when they dumped you off here, you had absolutely nothing. Most of us carried something when we came in, even if it was just a bundle of rags.”



 

Thursday, August 14, 2014

FRIDAY FREEBITS - MARGARET TANNER - FALSELY ACCUSED

Friday Freebits. Check out other Friday Freebits.
http://mizging.blogspot.com

FALSELY ACCUSED

“Thou shall not commit adultery.”

The nausea rising up in Maryanne’s mouth soured her stomach as her father, the Reverend Silas Watson, pounded on the pulpit with a clenched fist.

“The evils of the flesh, the wantonness of women in a world tainted by debauchery. The time has come for us, the chosen of God, to purge and cleanse ourselves of such evil. Mark my words, the wrath of the Lord is upon us, and our day of reckoning is nigh,” he ranted.

Maryanne wanted to get up and denounce him as a fiend. Only the threat of what Fiona might have to endure later stopped her. There wasn’t a God. No God would allow such depravity to go unpunished.



 

Thanks

Margaret

Friday, August 1, 2014

FRIDAY FREEBITS - MARGARET TANNER WW1 CENTENARY COLLECTION


THE LOVES WE LEFT BEHIND - WORLD WAR 1, CENTENARY COLLECTION – MARGARET TANNER

For my Friday Freebits I thought I would give you the introduction to this special collection of 3 novels all set during World War 1, to mark the centenary of the start of this terrible conflict.

MY INTRODUCTION
Stories of my family’s involvement in the 1st World War fired my interest, and after having access to a relative’s diary, it became a passion with me. I read as many books as I could about this terrible conflict then visited the battlefields in France and Belgium.

One of my relatives died of wounds in the military hospital in Rouen, France in 1917. He was a married man in his thirties, who felt duty bound to fight for the Empire. He left a wife and two small children behind. Another relative was only twenty one when he died in the Turkish campaign on Gallipoli in 1915. He was a young adventurer who wanted to see the world.

I wanted to write about what it would have been like for the wives and sweethearts of men like these.  How did they cope if their man came home wounded? Or if he didn’t come home at all? Could they find happiness a second time around?

To mark the centenary of the start of the 1st World War, I thought it an appropriate time to draw attention not only to the brave men who fought, but the loyal women who faced hardship and loss at home.

Red poppies growing in Flanders mud
Nurtured by a soldier’s blood.
 




 Please check out other Friday Freebits at Ginger Simpson's blog
 

Saturday, July 26, 2014

FRIDAY FREEBITS - FALSELY ACCUSED

Hi everyone,
From my recently released novel, Falsely Accused from Books We Love.

Below decks, the fetid air smelt foul with the stench of excrement, dirty bodies and unwashed monthly rags. Through the dimness filtering out from a couple of lamps her frightened eyes noticed two tiers of berths, one on either side, large enough for perhaps half a dozen people to lie side by side. She judged the heights between decks to be eighteen inches or so higher than her five feet two inches. How could she bear it? Already the confined space closed ominously around her

“Here, Libby, I saved a place for you next to me.”

“Thanks, Bridget.” Libby pushed Maryanne toward the closest berth to the hatchway.

“We’ll get more air here,” Bridget went on, as they put down their pitiful bundle of belongings.

“Maryanne meet Bridget.” They exchanged greetings as Libby rattled on. “I’ve taken this young miss from the parsonage under my wing.”

“Ah, another of your lame ducks,” Bridget said in husky, not unpleasant tones.

“Except for getting more air, the back part is better, closer to the men. There are only a few planks separating us. Some women have already worked out a signal system for communication.”

“Now harlots,” a fat guard growled. “Your leg irons will stay on till we lift anchor, hatches will remain closed, too. If I got my way, I’d keep you filthy whores chained below decks for the whole voyage.”



 
Check out Ginger Simpsons blog to read other exciting snippets from participating authors in Friday Freebits
http://mizging.blogspot.com

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.