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Archive for July, 2014

TGIF! That means it’s tiFriday Freebitsme for Friday FreeBits, six paragraphs from one of my published books.

Today’s excerpt is from the opening chapter of Lord Esterleigh’s Daughter, book One of “The Serpent’s Tooth” historical trilogy, published by Books We Love. Set during the turbulent 18th century, the series follows Anne Darvey from her impoverished childhood in rural England to the American colonies and the War for Independence.

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“…This is a dark novel that deals with the resentment and anger of a girl who has been misled and cannot seem to get past her grief …. While not a typical romance, this is a fascinating, complex story that I completely enjoyed. It is well written and entertained me with mystery, suspense, scandal, sinister characters and first love.” — Romantic Historical Lovers

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Blinded by tears, Anne Fairfield ran. She had lost her shoes somewhere in the squire’s field amid the newly plowed furrows, but she couldn’t stop to worry about them now. Nor would she stop to consider how her mother might take to the loss, although the thought stirred a fleeting pang of anxiety in the pit of her stomach. But it was nothing compared to the need that drove her to keep running. To run fast and hard and not look back. Far worse than a mother’s scolding would be her punishment if she allowed them to overtake her. Even as she ran, their hateful voices grew louder as they steadily closed the distance between her and them.

Cradling her basket against her heaving chest, she tried not to think of the precious eggs within. She’d already lost a goodly number…not counting the one she had hurled at Dickie Hodge.

She hadn’t realized how far she had run. All the way to St. Cillian’s Well! Nearly home. But they gained ground. The pounding of their ponies’ hooves and a new clarity in their cruel voices drew closer and more distinct. She’d never outrun them. They’d be on her before she could cross the meadow between the spring and home.

Gasping for breath, only partly conscious of the raucous chatter of birds that greeted her entry and the cheerful gurgle of water bubbling up from the earth, she darted into the thicket surrounding the pool. She pressed her back against the spiny bark of a slender hawthorn, and willed the tears from her burning eyes. Hands balled into fists, Anne swiped their trails from her cheeks. She sucked in a deep breath and peered through the grove at the road and the fields behind her.

There was still no sign of them, but their taunting voices filled the air, ringing in the glade with hurtful words that stung her to the heart. The strident sound drew closer—young voices chanting and laughing in fiendish delight.

 

An-nie Fair-field, where did your father go?

Across the sea to Galilee, but Mother’ll never know.

An-nie Fair-field, what is your father’s aim?

To kiss the maids and make them cry!

Oh, for shame, for shame!

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Fridays and FreeBits is a regular feature on Ginger Simpson’s blog, Dishin’ It Out. To read more excerpts from some great authors, click here.

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Friday FreebitsWhere has the week gone? Welcome back to Fridays and Freebits! This week’s excerpt is again from my historical romance, Winter Fire. The following occurs midway through chapter eight.

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5 Stars “Author Kathy Fischer-Brown has created lifelike characters that live and breathe during the pioneer days of the late 1700’s…. I recommend this book!” — Jacqueline M Piepenhagen

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It was not the murder that had him at odds with himself. She denied having had a hand in it, and perhaps she told the truth. That was not what troubled him. Even if she had killed Rufus, she was not the cold-blooded savage the others would have her be. But as Sparks had said, she provided them with the perfect scapegoat. Under other conditions, perhaps, it might have been different. Had she been one of their own, they might have been willing to admit that there were mitigating circumstances, that she had acted in self-defense. No one could claim that Rufus was a saint.

He had no qualms about taking her away to wait out the storm, even if he became an accessory to her so-called crime. His conscience could abide by that. After all, he acted in the name of justice, to ensure that justice would be served, for he knew that she would never be treated fairly. He wondered if he could make her understand what she was up against.

She was not completely unaware of her situation. She had a tenuous grasp…as far as she could see it, given her upbringing.

That was what lay at the heart of the matter.

She was not of his world. As hard as he tried to overlook this, the obvious kept flying in his face. White as she appeared on the outside, she was as red as they came on the inside. And more, she was stubborn to boot, and not at all the innocent she appeared. Her kiss had proved that. She responded to him like a woman of experience, and that disturbed him three-fold. How in God’s name could he allow himself to become involved with her? With one of them?

But it was too late for second thoughts. Not only had he involved himself deeply, she attracted him now, more strongly than before. Her kiss had left him hungry for more. He needed to exercise discretion lest his desire overpower his reason.

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To find out more about Winter Fire, please click on the cover.

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Fridays and FreeBits is a regular feature on Ginger Simpson’s blog, Dishin’ It Out. To read more excerpts from some great authors, click here.

Read Full Post »

Welcome to Friday FreebitsFreebits Friday! This week’s  excerpt is again from my historical romance, Winter Fire. The following occurs at the end of chapter six.

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“This was my first time reading Kathy-Fischer Brown so I was not sure what to expect. I’m glad that I was pleasantly surprised. I really loved her writing style and the pacing of the story. There was not a dull moment! I loved the hero and heroine. They had a perfect combination of chemistry and mystery.”– Booknerd

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She seemed to sense his misgivings. How could she not? He felt that his face alone had given him away. Had he a glass in view he would have seen what she, no doubt, had seen. How he scrutinized her from afar with a look of uncertainty. There was no smile on his part to echo her smile of welcome. No look of pleasure at seeing her. He had said nothing of the fire she had made, or the appealing smell of the stew filling the room. And in response, the delight fled from her eyes.

“Ethancaine…not…pleased?”

Her voice was softer than a whisper. If not for the movement of her lips, he would not have believed she had spoken at all.

“That’s not it at all. I–” Stunned, Ethan regarded her while the realization slowly overwhelmed his awareness. “Good Lord!” Full understanding struck him with the force of a blow. “You…you speak English!”

She nodded slowly, peering at him from under her thick eyelashes.

“But you…?”

“Is…hard…for me.” Her voice was as strained as her eyes were expressive, her hands grasping at air. The effort to speak and make herself understood commanded all of her concentration. “Agasha-aw…I…try…not forget.”

He closed the door and stumbled past her, then lowered himself into a chair at the table. With his gaze fixed on the tabletop, he raked his hands through his hair. “I thought you had gone.”

“Ethancaine…not pleased?” she repeated, her voice low and uncertain.

The way she met his bewildered stare, with a wide-eyed, questioning look, she seemed so totally guileless. Either she was well schooled in the art of deception, or clearly she had no notion of the gravity of her situation. Either she had no moral sense at all, or she was as innocent as she appeared, as innocent as he wished her to be.

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Winter Fire, by Kathy Fischer-Brown

To find out more about Winter Fire, please click on the cover.

Friday FreeBits is a regular feature on Ginger Simpson’s blog, Dishin’ It Out. To read more excerpts from some great authors, click here.

 

 

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Welcome to Friday FreebitsFreebits Friday! This week’s six paragraph excerpt is from my historical romance, Winter Fire. Once again I’ve drawn on Seneca legend in a short flashback, as Zara hides from men from the settlement who have come looking for her at Ethan’s cabin in connection with her uncle’s murder.

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…I can’t say enough how great this story is.It is well plotted and flows so easily that before you know it… You can’t put it down…I “HIGHLY” recommend this book!!” — Amazon.com review

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She could not run for the safety of her mother’s lodge, for the man blocked her way. So she ran away. She ran blindly, swiftly. And he followed. He chased her far, far from the village, into the fields of tall, waving corn and beans and squash by the edge of the forest. There she fell to the ground and could run no more.

Pressed close to the earth, screened all around by the sheltering corn, she heard the man draw close, and then his steps faded away. Too frightened to move, she kept herself still and close to the ground. She had tried not to breathe, not to think for fear that the sounds of her thoughts would give her away. And when she heard the voices of her brothers and men from the village, she saw that the sun had completed its journey across the sky. The day had passed without her being aware.

Okteondon, her oldest brother, laughed as he carried her home on his shoulders. “You were made small by the Jongies,” he said. “Our Jiiwi has a powerful orenda. The Jongies have protected her from harm!”

As relief over the men’s departure coursed through her body, Zara smiled sadly at the thoughts flooding her mind. How she missed her brothers! All but one, Hahjanoh, the youngest, were dead, killed in the terrible war that had already taken many brave young men and destroyed many of their villages. She missed her sisters and her old mother…and Nichus.

But when she thought of Nichus, her-husband-no-longer-her-husband, she felt neither a pang of longing for his closeness nor a great desire to be with him. When she saw his face in her mind, it was not the face of the man she had slept with for the many seasons of their union, nor the man who had provided all the meat and skins her family ever required. It was not the face of a man who prompted a warmth of feeling to envelop her heart and excite her blood and inflame her senses. It had never been that way with him. She missed him as a cherished friend, a brother. Suddenly she realized that there had never been an abundance of passion between them. Not in the way another man’s touch had inspired her to imagine.

Ethancaine… The men from the settlement had called him by name. Ethancaine. Twice he had placed himself between her and danger. Twice now she owed him her life and her gratitude. Ethancaine was the reason she had not run.

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winterfire200x300

To find out more about Winter Fire, please click on the cover.

Friday FreeBits is a regular feature on Ginger Simpson’s blog, Dishin’ It Out. To read more excerpts from some great authors, click here.

Read Full Post »

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