By
Annemarie Brear (Guest Blogger)
Thank
you so much for having me today. I hope you and your readers enjoy
learning a little about my latest release, Where
Dragonflies Hover, a contemporary story that
also features a WWI story, when Lexi, the main character finds a
diary written by a wartime nurse.
Blurb
Sometimes
a glimpse into the
past can help make
sense of the future
…
Everyone
thinks Lexi is crazy when she falls in love with Hollingsworth House
– a crumbling old Georgian mansion in Yorkshire – and nobody more
so than her husband, Dylan. But there’s something very special
about the place, and Lexi can sense it.
Whilst
exploring the grounds she stumbles across an old diary and, within
its pages, she meets Allie – an Australian nurse working in France
during the First World War.
Lexi
finally realises her dream of buying Hollingsworth but her obsession
with the house leaves her marriage in tatters. In the lonely nights
that follow, Allie’s diary becomes Lexi’s companion, comforting
her in moments of darkness and pain. And as Lexi reads, the nurse’s
scandalous connection to the house is revealed …
Excerpt
The
late sunshine enveloped the house in a golden glow. Again, it seemed
to call to her, begging for attention. A path on the left of the
drive looked inviting as it meandered through a small strand of
poplars. Lexi grabbed her keys, locked the car and took off to
explore again. She had nothing to rush home to now, and if she got
caught for trespassing, then so be it.
The
overgrown pathway brought her out on the far side of the grounds near
the end of a small lake. She gazed over the water towards the back of
the house and noticed a paved terrace area. From there the lawn then
sloped down to the water. She’d not been around the back before and
fell even more in love with the property. She could imagine the
serenity of sipping a cool drink on a hot summer’s day and looking
out over the lake.
Lexi
stepped out along the bank. A lone duck swam by, its movement serene
on the glassy, dark surface. This side of the lake was in shadow from
large pine trees, and she stumbled on fallen pine cones hidden in the
long grass. On the opposite side of the water were some small
buildings, a garage, fruit trees in early blossom, and an overgrown
vegetable patch, complete with a broken, rejected-looking scarecrow.
She
wandered over to a narrow shed on her left and peered through its
sole, dirty window. Unable to make out much in the dimness, she
walked around to the front and was surprised when she was able to
pull the bolt back on the door. Why didn’t people lock things? A
covered rowboat took up most of the space inside. She smiled, seeing
herself rowing it on the lake. Growing more excited, Lexi edged
around it to peer at the workbenches and the odd assortment of tools
and useless things one found in abandoned sheds. It was like treasure
hunting in an antique shop. She used to love doing that with her
grandfather.
She
glanced about and spied a dusty painting leaning against the wall.
The scene was of a child and a brown dog. Behind the canvas were more
paintings, some framed, some not. Lexi flicked through them. The ones
that caught her attention she took out and set aside.
She
looked for somewhere to sit and study the paintings. A small tin
trunk wedged under a workbench seemed the only offering. Thinking it
empty, she went to tug it out, but it remained fast.
Using
both hands, she heaved it out and was showered in a puff of dust.
Squatting down, she inspected the latch that was held tight with a
small lock. ‘Why are you locked?’ she murmured. The shed was open
to anyone passing by, yet this ugly little chest had a lock on it.
The trunk was nothing special, plain and in parts rusted. No ornament
or writing hinted at its use.
Intrigued,
she grabbed a hammer from the workbench, but then hesitated. She had
no right to open someone else’s property. Lexi closed her eyes
momentarily. What was she
thinking of breaking into
the trunk? What am I
doing? Never had she broken the law and here she was
guilty of trespassing and breaking and entering! She looked around
the rowboat as though expecting someone to jump out and arrest her.
Something
inside urged her on. She knew she couldn’t stop now. Sucking in a
deep breath, she bent and hit the lock hard. The ringing sound was
loud in the quiet serenity of the garden. The metal dented and with
another few solid whacks the lock gave.
Shivers
of excitement tingled along her skin. Gently, she eased up the lid.
Buy Links
Also
available in Apple ibooks, etc.
About
Annemarie Brear
Australian
born
Annemarie
Brear
writes
historical
novels
and
modern
romances.
Currently
living
in
England,
her
passions,
apart
from
writing,
are
reading,
researching,
genealogy,
roaming
historical
sites,
buying
books
and
gardening.
She
is
an
author
of
historical
women's
fiction,
contemporary
romance
and
several
short
stories.
Also
lover
of
chocolate,
good
movies
and
her
family!
Annemarie
Brear
on
the
web:
Twitter
@annemariebrear.
1 comment:
Thanks for being my guest, Annemarie.
I definitely identify with Lexi. Sometimes a place can grab hold of you and it's hard to get away. That's true of a time period too.
Good luck with this one.
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