Reviews!

To any authors/publishers/ tour companies that are looking for the reviews that I signed up for please know this is very hard to do. I will be stopping reviews temporarily. My husband passed away February 1st and my new normal is a bit scary right now and I am unable to concentrate on a book to do justice to the book and authors. I will still do spotlight posts if you wish it is just the reviews at this time. I apologize for this, but it isn't fair to you if I signed up to do a review and haven't been able to because I can't concentrate on any books. Thank you for your understanding during this difficult time. I appreciate all of you. Kathleen Kelly April 2nd 2024

23 April 2024

Rise to Rebellion by Julie Bates Book Tour!

 

Rise to Rebellion by Julie Bates Banner

April 8 - May 3, 2024 Virtual Book Tour

Rise to Rebellion by Julie Bates

Summer 1776. Different missions call Faith Clarke and Jeremy Butler to Philadelphia, where delegates meet to determine the path of the rebellious American Colonies. Faith has been called back to her childhood home to make peace with her terminally ill mother, while Jeremy has been summoned by General Washington to report to Philadelphia to deal with a crisis impacting the Continental Crisis. Yet nothing is as it seems.

Her mother’s wandering mind reveals a secret that no one wants to discuss, but Faith realizes must come to light. A child, born out of wedlock, haunts her mother’s memories and destroys her peace. No matter to cost, Faith knows this child must be found for her mother to pass in peace, even as her own family tries to stop her. Only her older sister, Hannah is willing to help her find the truth that will allow her mother to die in peace.

Meanwhile, Jeremy Butler hunts for an assassin determined to kill a member of the Congress meeting to draft a proclamation from the American Colonies. All attempts lead back to Benjamin Franklin, who is at the heart of the negotiations to send a united message to the King of England. But who would want to kill Franklin, a man respected by all? Alone in a strange town, Jeremy enlists the help of Faith’s sister Hannah, a formidable widow with a mind of her own. Together, they work to keep Franklin safe while hunting a ruthless killer wandering the streets of Philadelphia.

While Jeremy seeks answers from Franklin’s estranged son, William. Faith and Hannah hunt for their long-lost sister, who they believe may still be living in Philadelphia. Neither of them realizes that in a city rife with rebellion, anyone could be tempted to rise up and revolt against those held responsible for the deepest of betrayals.

Book Details:

Genre: Historical Fiction
Published by: Level Best Books
Publication Date: September 26, 2023
Number of Pages: 318
ISBN: 9781685124670 (ISBN10: 1685124674)
Series: Faith Clarke, #3
Book Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads | Level Best Books

Read an excerpt:

Butler circled the room. Franklin found a comfortable seat where he was soon encircled by a mixed crowd as he exerted his charm. Surrounded by paramount families of Philadelphia, Butler felt certain the old man was safe. A light touch on his arm caught him by surprise.

Lizette Fournier smiled up at him with a guileless expression. “Forgive me, Master Butler, but I appear to be without a partner for this dance. Would you do me the honor?”

He allowed her to take his arm. Butler hoped he didn’t forget the steps. When he had served with Washington as a youth in the French and Indian War, the colonel had seen fit to teach him dancing. The colonel, now general, was both an excellent dancer and teacher. Butler felt a debt of gratitude to him as he led Mistress Fournier into a well-known country dance.

Lizette Fournier was light on her feet. Her delicate blue gown, with its frothy lace, reminded him of seafoam as it moved back and forth. Her eyes watched him as he turned and swayed along with her.

“You are a fine dancer, Master Butler,” she called as they drew closer. “I wonder that I have not seen you at some of our other gatherings.”

Butler waited until they were close again. “Regrettably, I have had little time for entertainment since I entered this fair city.”

“Really, I wonder what sort of business would keep an attractive man away from the very gatherings that allow men to make connections valuable in conducting a successful business.”

Butler nodded as they turned. “I have seen many of Philadelphia’s finest families represented here tonight, but not all business is conducted at a ball. The ladies expect better of us than to take time away from the festivities.”

“It would be a shame,” she agreed. “That’s why so many of our fine men slip away to the card tables so that they can drink and gossip with impunity.”

Butler laughed. “Is that how it is done? I will keep that in mind.” He bowed before her as the dance ended. “Perhaps I had best excuse myself and move to that room.” He moved swiftly before she could compel him to another dance. Fortunately, he had spotted the adjacent room set up for cards as they had moved across the dance floor.

Candelabras surrounded the group of square tables set up in an elegant room papered in blue and white toile print. Dark blue draperies partially drawn across the windows gave the room an intimate look. The windows were open to allow breezes inside and allow smoke from cigars and pipes to drift out into the night.

As he passed by the settee where Franklin was ensconced, he heard a giggle. He had been joined by a pretty young girl in a pale pink dress covered in bows. Butler watched as Franklin leaned over to kiss her cheek and chuckle heartily. Butler briefly wondered if he had been entrusted with the defense of an old lecher, but he saw nothing of concern from either Franklin or the girl as they sat talking. He moved to stand behind a chair close by.

Franklin basked in the attention of the young lady, her mama, and a few others as he shared a story about one of his experiments regarding electricity. “We soon discovered that lightning would strike the highest point in the vicinity in order to reach the ground, and,” he leaned over to whisper conspiratorially, “whatever it struck would explode as if shot from a cannon.” He leaned back and saw Butler. “Master Butler, could you find me some refreshment? Regrettably, my throat has gotten quite dry with the sharing of my scientific work.”

Butler shot Franklin a look. “It would be my pleasure.”

“Thank you, my good man.” He turned to the girl. “Now, my sweet Felicity, where were we?”

“You were about to tell us about attaching a key to your kite,” she replied. Chestnut brown curls were piled artfully on top her head while two or three large sausage-shaped ones drifted over her bare shoulder.

They had moved on to another of Franklin’s experiments by the time he returned. Butler handed him a frothy goblet and passed the other to the girl. Franklin drank deeply, draining the glass before setting it on a nearby table.

Butler smiled over at Franklin. “I believe I read that your son assisted you in many of your experiments.”

“William helped a great deal. He served as my assistant and recorder. He could be very useful when he chose.”

Felicity asked. “Where is your son now, Dr. Franklin?”

Franklin remained silent for several moments, his expression unreadable. “William is far away from me now.”

Butler left to get a drink for himself, pondering how two men once so close could grow so far apart. Avoiding the syllabub, which he found disgusting, Butler acquired a glass of wine and settled along a wall. Before long, he was joined by Frances Fournier, also with a glass of wine.

“It is a fine party, is it not mon ami?” Fournier’s glass was almost buried by the enormous cascade of ruffles flowing out from the cuffs of his jacket. The pale ivory of his waistcoat stood out in contrast to the blue of his suit. All were covered with embroidered roses that must have taken hours to produce. Fournier gazed with pride at the crowd filling his home. “My wife does an excellent job with these things.”

Butler nodded. “She seems very talented. You must be pleased to have such a beautiful and skilled lady at your side.”

Fournier nodded sagely. “She is a remarkable woman, my Lisette, and tolerant of my eccentricities.” He smiled expansively. “She will not notice if I slip away for a few hours with a like-minded friend.”

Butler wondered what Fournier was alluding to. There was very little a wealthy man could not discreetly do. “It is good she is an understanding woman,” he said at last.

“I have not seen you with the ladies, with the exception of my charming wife; perhaps you too prefer the company of men?”

The question was posed delicately.

Butler smiled to show he meant no judgment against his host. “I’m flattered you would ask, but that is not my interest. I lost my wife years ago and have no interest in forming an attachment with anyone.” He stepped back from the wall. “I think it best if I check on my companions before they take in too much of your well-stocked cellars. I wish you a pleasant evening.” He walked slowly into the crush, aware of the older man’s eyes on his back. Butler had no intention of commenting on his interests, although he suspected it was known in society. His mission was to protect Franklin, not judge other men’s choices.

Butler walked outside to clear his head. Strains of music drifted out into the shadowed garden, lit by a few scattered torches. A tall tree’s canopy provided a large dark space where one could shelter and not be disturbed. Butler stood beneath it, taking in the night air.

In the garden, whispers drifted across the ground. Young swains sputtered their affections to young ladies. A few men discussed an upcoming horse race on the edges of town the next day. One apparently was short of funds. Butler paid attention to that. A man desperate for money might be willing to share information for some coins.

A pair of women walked past. Their furtive glances caught his interest. Butler decided to follow. Gravel crunched under their feet as they walked swiftly away from the revealing light of torches that had been placed just outside the house. Butler kept to the shadows surrounding the fruit trees on the edge of the formal beds.

Within the raised beds, pale blossoms of flowers glowed in the shadowed garden. The waxing moon provided ample light to see the path. Butler listened to the hoot of an owl in the distance, warning smaller creatures that it was on the hunt. He watched as the women made for the pergola at the end of the main path. Painted white, it stood out in the darkness.

One of the women stopped as her skirt became caught in the boxwood edging one of the flower beds. As she bent to free it, Lisette Fournier whispered. “Hurry, it won’t be long before we are missed.”

Mistress Cranford rose. “I’m not tearing my skirt. The dressmaker delivered this yesterday.”

Butler lingered outside, concealed by trees and shrubs.

Fournier spoke first. “Has your husband revealed anything about where he stands in this conflict?”

Cranford’s voice sounded exasperated. “We are Quaker. He says we are neutral, but he meets with men like Franklin and George Clymer. He is angry at the threats the British have made. They imply that if he doesn’t support the King, he is a patriot even if he does nothing.”

Fournier nodded. “The British are of like mind. They have no use for pacifists.” She raised her head, looking at the sky. Her face was a pale oval, unreadable in the shadowed structure. “The British will come,” She said. “We need to prepare. Our husbands may choose to blindly ignore the danger, but we cannot. Our children depend on us to provide a future for them.”

“Elizabeth,” Lisette grasped her hand. “I realize this is difficult, but you can do this. Listen when he brings his associates home to dinner. Let me know what you hear; that is all you need to do.”

The other woman shook her head. “James won’t like it if I pry in his business. His family was disappointed he did not marry into a more affluent family. It has been better since Simeon was born. His father dotes on him and his sisters.”

“It is for your children you should do this. When the British come, they will take this town and punish anyone they believe sympathetic to the revolution.” Her voice deepened. “Men pay no attention to us, but we are necessary to their comfort and wellbeing. Therein lays your power. Be the perfect hostess and entertain your husband’s associates with loving kindness. They will speak and never realize you are present.”

Elizabeth Cranford drew in a breath. “This is a patriot stronghold. Do you really believe the British will come?”

“British Troops are gathering in New York, waiting for the right moment. It’s a matter of time before they march south.”

“But Washington,” Elizabeth began.

Lisette shook her head. “He works with militias: men of very little training and short commitment. My friends tell me they are not prepared to meet a professional army.”

Butler wondered who the lovely Lisette shared her information with.

“It’s time for us to return to the ball.” Lisette murmured. “I will call on you tomorrow, and you can let me know if James has expressed any opinions to his clients. I have heard that Master Hancock has met with him.”

Elizabeth nodded. “They have discussed business contracts. Master Hancock wants to expand where his ships go and find a way to avoid the British navy.”

Lisette snorted. “We’re all trying to avoid them, as well as the privateers that seek fat ships to loot.” She looked about before stepping out onto the pearly pale gravel that lined the garden’s walkways. Both women walked swiftly back toward the house, where the strains of a minuet drifted from the open windows. Butler watched them go, pondering what he had heard. Lisette Fournier was far more than a pretty woman. In the right hands, she could influence the course of the conflict here in Philadelphia. The question was, whose side was she really on? It might be possible to sway her to share intelligence in order to garner favor with the prevailing side. Butler recognized she could be a source of tremendous intelligence, but if he wasn’t careful, she could also be his doom.

***

Excerpt from Rise to Rebellion by Julie Bates. Copyright 2024 by Julie Bates. Reproduced with permission from Julie Bates. All rights reserved.

Julie Bates

Julie Bates enjoys reading and writing in a variety of genres. After spending a few years writing freelance articles, her first novel Cry of the Innocent, premiered in June 2021, followed by A Seed of Betrayal in 2022. The Eight book series follows the timeline of the American Revolutionary War. In addition, she has blogged for Killer Nashville and the educational website Read.Learn.Write. She is a member of Sisters in Crime, Triangle Sisters in Crime, Mystery Writers of America, Southeastern Mystery Writers of America (SEMWA) and The Historical Novel Society. When not busy plotting her next story, she enjoys working in her garden, doing crafts and spending time with her husband and son, as well as a number of dogs and cats who have shown up on her doorstep and never left...

Catch Up With Julie Bates:
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Instagram - @juliebates72
Twitter/X - @JulieLBates03
Facebook - @JulieBates.author

 

 

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The Falconer’s Apprentice by Malve von Hassell Blog Tour! @MvonHassell @cathiedunn@mvonhassell @thecoffeepotbookclub

 


Book Title

The Falconer’s Apprentice


Author

Malve von Hassell


Publication Date

January 30, 2024 (second edition)


Publisher

Malve von Hassell 


Pages

214


Genre
Historical Fiction


THE FALCONER'S APPRENTICE is a story of adventure and intrigue set in the intense social and political unrest of the Holy Roman Empire in the thirteenth century.


“That bird should be destroyed!” 


Andreas stared at Ethelbert in shock. Blood from an angry-looking gash on the young lord’s cheek dripped onto his embroidered tunic. Andreas clutched the handles of the basket containing the young peregrine. Perhaps this was a dream—

Andreas, an apprentice falconer at Castle Kragenberg, cannot bear the thought of killing the young female falcon and smuggles her out of the castle. Soon he realizes that his own time there has come to an end, and he stows away, with the bird, in the cart of an itinerant trader, Richard of Brugge. 

So begins a series of adventures that lead him from an obscure castle in northern Germany to the farthest reaches of Frederick von Hohenstaufen’s Holy Roman Empire, following a path dictated by the wily trader’s mysterious mission. Andreas continues to improve his falconry skills, but he also learns to pay attention to what is happening around him as he travels through areas fraught with political unrest. 

Eventually, Richard confides in Andreas, and they conspire to free Enzio, the eldest of the emperor’s illegitimate sons, from imprisonment in Bologna. 



Buy Links:


This title is available to read on #KindleUnlimited.


Universal Buy Link

https://books2read.com/u/31BMjD   


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Malve von Hassell is a freelance writer, researcher, and translator. She holds a Ph.D. in anthropology from the New School for Social Research. Working as an independent scholar, she published The Struggle for Eden: Community Gardens in New York City (Bergin & Garvey 2002) and Homesteading in New York City 1978-1993: The Divided Heart of Loisaida (Bergin & Garvey 1996). She has also edited her grandfather Ulrich von Hassell's memoirs written in prison in 1944, Der Kreis schließt sich - Aufzeichnungen aus der Haft 1944 (Propylaen Verlag 1994). 


She has taught at Queens College, Baruch College, Pace University, and Suffolk County Community College, while continuing her work as a translator and writer. 


Malve has published two children’s picture books, Tooth Fairy (Amazon KDP 2012/2020), and Turtle Crossing (Amazon KDP 2023), and her translation and annotation of a German children’s classic by Tamara Ramsay, Rennefarre: Dott’s Wonderful Travels and Adventures (Two Harbors Press, 2012).


The Falconer’s Apprentice (2015/KDP 2024) was her first historical fiction novel for young adults. She has published Alina: A Song for the Telling (BHC Press, 2020), set in Jerusalem in the time of the crusades, and The Amber Crane (Odyssey Books, 2021), set in Germany in 1645 and 1945, as well as a biographical work about a woman coming of age in Nazi Germany, Tapestry of My Mother’s Life: Stories, Fragments, and Silences (Next Chapter Publishing, 2021), also available in German, Bildteppich Eines Lebens: Erzählungen Meiner Mutter, Fragmente Und Schweigen (Next Chapter Publishing, 2022), and is working on a historical fiction trilogy featuring Adela of Blois. 


Author Links:


Website

https://www.malvevonhassell.com


Twitter

https://twitter.com/MvonHassell


Facebook author page

https://www.facebook.com/malvevonhassellauthor/


Linkedin

https://www.linkedin.com/in/malve-von-hassell-02b61517/ 


Instagram

https://www.instagram.com/mvonhassell/


Bluesky

https://bsky.app/profile/malvevonhassell.bsky.social


Goodreads

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/471746.Malve_von_Hassell


Bookbub

https://www.bookbub.com/authors/malve-von-hassell


Amazon author link

https://www.amazon.com/stores/Malve-von-Hassell/author/B0CTGLDQ7P/


#HistoricalFiction #HolyRomanEmpire #FrederickII #CasteldelMonte #falconry #MedievalMedicine #BlogTour #TheCoffeePotBookClub 


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Taming Her Heart by Bree Westland Release Blitz! #authorbreewestland #tamingherheart #ruggedpeaksseries

 

When a ghost from the past shocks the clan, Leslie Beckett, guardian of the long-awaited prophecy, is left with no choice but to plot a way forward. Tyler Jackson becomes a welcome distraction, igniting feelings Leslie is unprepared for. 

Meanwhile, the rogue fae are quietly claiming the minds of loved ones in their own quest for the elusive prophecy. Readers who enjoy brother’s best friend and tortured heroes who fall first tropes will devour Taming Her Heart by Bree Westland, a steamy fated mates romance.

 

Earning her place among them was the easy part. 

Leslie Beckett had been the glue holding her family together since her mother disappeared not long after her birth. As a witch, a dragon shifter, and the only daughter in a household of male dragon shifters, she’d had to train harder. Be the best. She’d always crave the hunt. Yet the innate tug of magic made her feel most alive.

Tyler Jackson followed his sister to Rayner, leaving his career as a police officer on Earth behind. Ditching his ties to his undercover ops position proved more difficult though. So he put those skills to work when granted a spot on the alpha’s elite team. He was nothing if not ruthlessly efficient in his role. 

  When a ghost from the past shocks the clan, nothing is as it seems. As the guardian of the long awaited prophesy, Leslie plots a way forward. Tyler is a welcome distraction, igniting feelings Leslie is unprepared for. And he can’t get the wickedly talented, pretty princess out of his head. 

Meanwhile, the rogue fae quietly claim the minds of loved ones in their own quest for the elusive prophesy. Can Leslie and Tyler’s growing bond prove stronger than the forces of fate uniting against them? *Readers can expect healthy doses of hot shifters, naughty language, and intimate time with a fated mate, all wrapped up in a happily ever after. Can be read as a standalone romance but best enjoyed in the order written.

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*Readers can expect healthy doses of hot shifters, naughty language, and intimate time with a fated mate, all wrapped up in a happily ever after. Can be read as a standalone romance but best enjoyed in the order written.

 #fatedmates #tormentedhero #protectivehero #brothersbestfriend #hefallsfirst #magic #telepathy #telepathiccharacters #foundfamily #paranormalromance #pnr #shifterromance #spicyromance #mustread #mustreadromance #ebook #bookstagram #oneclick #amazon


 Start the Rugged Peaks series → 

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BXBMRQNJ

Copyright 2024 @Bree Westland

The futility of his statement hit him as their eyes met and held. Leslie would always be in danger. Instinctively he understood that. Her prophetic powers would only get stronger from here on out, ensuring that she’d be an ongoing target. 

He’d just have to make it his life’s work to keep her safe because he couldn’t imagine a world without her in it.

Buy Now or Read for FREE with Kindle Unlimited!

Start the Rugged Peaks series → https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BXBMRQNJ

About Bree Westland

Hi, I’m Bree! Paranormal romance writer and lover of all things fantasy. I write steamy shifter romances with growly alpha men and the strong women who love them. Most days you can find me tucked away in my office, lost in the worlds and characters I create, listening while they tell me their stories. 

When not writing, you can catch me curled up with a hot cup of tea and my ever-growing TBR pile. I call home the sunny beaches of Jacksonville, Florida, but I love traveling as long as I can take my laptop with me!

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Uptown Flava BK Style by Shamarie Knight Book Tour! @SilverDaggerBookTours #UptownFlavaBKSyle #ShamarieKnight #

 Uptown keeps making it, and Brooklyn keeps taking it.  


Uptown Flava BK Style

by Shamarie Knight

Genre: Urban Fiction


 Uptown keeps making it, and Brooklyn keeps taking it.

The long-standing rivalry between Harlem and Brooklyn persists at the High School of Environmental Studies, where the flashy Fly Boys of Harlem and the grimy Crooklyn Crew from Brooklyn are in constant conflict.

The tension is palpable, and when their beef gets personal, the outcome of their inevitable clash is uncertain. However, one thing is sure - it will not be a pleasant sight.

Amazon * Bookbub * Goodreads


Chattering and laughter mixed with the hum of passing cars. The scent of bacon, egg, and cheese sandwiches wafted as a light breeze blew. The bell rang, letting the students know the school day had begun. The Fly Boys joined the crowd of students streaming into the school building, still discussing Spades.

DeVante felt the energy pulsating through the hallways. Lockers slammed shut, and students rushed to their classrooms, exchanging quick hellos and good mornings. Chatter echoed off the walls, and the smell of freshly brewed coffee wafted from the nearby vending machines.

 “Hey, DeVante,” one of his classmates called out. “What’s up, man?”

 “Not much,” DeVante replied. “Just trying to make it through the day.”

 “Yeah, same here,” the classmate said. “I heard we have a pop quiz in English today. Did you study?”

DeVante shrugged. “A little bit. But honestly, I’m just ready for lunch. You know what I’m saying?”

 The two chuckled as they went their separate ways, and DeVante continued down the hall, making his way to his first-period class, Math. The floors were polished to a shine, and the walls were adorned with motivational posters and student artwork.

 “Good morning, class,” the teacher greeted as DeVante sat. “I hope everyone had a great weekend.”

 As the teacher began the lesson, the room was filled with pencils scratching against paper and the occasional rustling of notebooks. DeVante tried his best to focus, but his mind kept wandering to his top client in school, his girlfriend, and the Spades game he planned to play during lunch.

Finally, the bell rang, signaling the end of the class, and DeVante hurriedly left to earn cash and visit his girlfriend, Sadira. DeVante walked through the High School for Environmental Studies halls and was met with a flurry of activity. The sound of lockers slamming shut, the chatter of students discussing their weekend plans, and the occasional shout of a teacher trying to maintain order all blended in a symphony of noise.

The air was thick with the scent of adolescent sweat and perfume, and the fluorescent lights overhead cast an artificial glow that added to the harshness of the environment. Students rushed past DeVante, some with their heads down and their backpacks slung over their shoulders, while others walked with a confident swagger that suggested they owned the place.



Shamarie Knight was born and raised in East Harlem, New York, and after graduating from the High School for Environmental Studies in 2000, he decided to continue his education at the Borough of Manhattan Community College (BMCC) to study Business. Later, Shamarie transferred to City College of New York in 2005, where he pursued a Bachelor of Arts degree in English and Science with a minor in Creative Writing, which he completed in 2009.

Throughout my life, I have always been passionate about writing. I draw inspiration from various mediums such as television shows, movies, music, music videos, and books. Writing allows me to express myself freely on paper and share my ideas. It's not just a hobby but a way of life for me. If you want to read more of my work, you can check out some of my other pieces on Medium.com. Be blessed, and stay safe.

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#EmergingEdgePublishing  #books #readers #reading #booklovers #booktok #bookbuzz #bookboost #BookPromo #AuthorPromo  #BookBlogger #Bookstagram #bookish #bookclub #MustRead #Writersofinstagram #AmReading #BookTour #Giveaway #writingcommunity #readerscommunity 


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The Maiden of Florence by Katherine Mezzacappa Blog Tour!



 The Maiden of Florence


'My defloration was talked about in all the courts of Europe. The Prince boasted of his prowess, even as preparations were being made for his wedding, as boldly as if he had ridden across that causeway with bloodstained sheet tied to his lance.' 


1584, Italy: Twenty-year-old Giulia expects she will live and die incarcerated as a silk weaver within the walls of her Florentine orphanage, where she has never so much as glimpsed her own face. This all changes with the visit of the Medici family's most trusted advisor, promising her a generous dowry and a husband if she agrees to a small sacrifice that will bring honour and glory to her native city. 


Vincenzo Gonzaga, libertine heir to the dukedom of Mantua, wants to marry the Grand-Duke of Tuscany's eldest daughter, but the rumours around his unconsummated first marriage must be silenced first. Eager for a dynastic alliance that will be a bulwark against the threat of Protestant heresy beyond the Alps, the Pope and his cardinals turn a blind eye to a mortal sin.A powerful #MeToo story of the Renaissance, based on true events.


Purchase

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Maiden-Florence-Katherine-Mezzacappa/dp/1914148509/

https://www.amazon.com/Maiden-Florence-Katherine-Mezzacappa/dp/1914148509/


The Maiden of Florence

The heroine’s husband was effectively blackmailed and bribed into marrying her, after she was deflowered as a proof of virility by the heir to the city-state of Mantua and had a child by him. Here she tells him about her upbringing in the Innocenti and then in the grim Dominican-run orphanage of the Pietà in Florence, where the girls were not allowed to speak to each other or own anything that was wholly theirs, and were made to weave for the silk guild of Florence to earn their keep. Hundreds of children a year were abandoned to Renaissance Florence’s orphanages. A wealthy man might decide to keep an illegitimate son, but was much less likely to want his daughter.

I could see she wanted to tell me more about her life behind those walls, the privations, the silences, the cruelty. She had never been able to tell anyone.

‘If a piece of cloth was spoiled,’ she said, ‘the girl that did it would not eat that day. She would stand instead in the corner of the refectory with the damaged material draped about her neck. Any girl who felt sorry for her and tried to take food to her would be punished too.’

‘Were you?’

‘Punished? No, though just being there was a punishment. I was too careful, too fearful. The worst for me was not having anything of my own, not ever. Our clothes were all the same: plain white garments, unmarked, so I’d have to wear whatever shapeless old sack came back from laundering, with a rope like a friar’s tied around the waist.’

She hesitated. ‘There was a young priest all of us girls loved, though he never spoke to us, and to my delight I saw him wearing one of those…’

‘Chasubles?’

‘Yes. One I had made, I with three companions.’

To my surprise I felt the smallest twinge of jealousy at the mention of this first man my wife had loved.

‘I don’t suppose he ever spared a thought for the unknown girls whose fingers were pricked and calloused from those stiff filaments – our eyes ached with the strain. We went to Mass every morning and were confessed three times a week, but it was always the palsied old chaplain who heard us – Don Alessandro. He would pinch us just here…’ she said, passing her hand fleetingly over her breast, ‘…whenever he thought the Prioress was not looking – we hated him.’

‘Confession three times a week? What on earth did you find to say, shut up in there?’

‘I spoke of my longing to be outside, to walk the streets freely – even the begging I had done with Tommasa felt like freedom by then – to have something that was my own. I don’t even mean fine things, but a room all to myself, with a door, without having to hear other girls snoring, weeping, farting in their sleep. I think making us sleep in that dormitory was one of the ways they encouraged vocations – not a spiritual longing, but the longing for a cell to sleep in undisturbed.’

I understood this, thinking of where I had lodged before our marriage. How could such small things be considered sins?

‘Of course the pious women who ran that place thought Don Alessandro a man of great Christian charity. When a girl called Anna complained of him, it was she who was punished.’ Giulia shivered. ‘She was brought into the refectory where we were all standing waiting to say grace, and was made to kneel before the Prioress’s table, and we were told to turn and face her. The old sister in charge of the habits pulled the veil and wimple and linen cap from her head, and her black hair fell down in great matted hanks. We were only able to wash our heads, and our bodies, once every two months, though we were in trouble if our clothes were not clean, white though they were. It was unavoidable then, but I can no longer bear the reek of unwashed flesh.’

I smiled. ‘I know! I heard Deodata exclaiming to the baker that you expected her to bathe from top to toe every Saturday evening, and that she was afraid she would catch her death of it.’

‘She will become accustomed to it.’

‘And your companion?’

‘Anna? The prioress said that she was to be punished for “speaking of matters that pertain only to the married state, and for having spoken ill of a good and holy man.” The sewing sister brought her shears and hacked the hair from Anna’s head in great uneven lumps. Anna knelt there crying with those black locks strewn around her. We owned nothing in that place, not so much as a pin, but a girl’s hair was her own, the one gift – other than chastity – that each one might hope to bring to a man as his bride. We always ate in silence, but our silence was different that evening – a hundred and fifty girls stiff with horror and shame at what we had witnessed, whilst Anna sobbed and snuffled unceasingly – the very smallest ones cried with her. I longed to go and wipe her poor face, clean the mess that coursed from her nose. I could eat little and was cuffed for it. She was not to eat at all. She was taken from the refectory before we were dismissed, and we found her in her cot in the dormitory when we went up, still crying in the darkness. During the night I crept to her and stroked her face, and I was not the only one, but if we had been seen by the Prioress’s assistants, we too would have been punished, for we were not allowed to touch each other. Even in the Innocenti there had been hugs: Tommasa was always embracing me.

‘When he was at last in his coffin we were made to kiss the old goat who had cost Anna her hair. We were told to shed tears over the corpse’s hands and feet. I screwed up my eyes but could not force tears to come, though spit gathered in my mouth. I leaned over the dead body without touching it, holding my breath. I whispered: “You are not worth even my curse.”’

Listening to her, I saw where my duty lay, yet it was not onerous. This woman deserved to be loved; she had been starved too long of kindness.


Katherine Mezzacappa is an Irish writer of mainly historical fiction, currently living in Italy. She has published several novels under pen names with publishers Bonnier Zaffre and eXtasy.


 She works as a manuscript assessor for The Literary Consultancy. Katherine reviews for Historical Novel Society’s quarterly journal and is one of the organisers of the Society’s 2022 UK conference. In her spare time she volunteers with a used book charity of which she is a founder member.


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