Norah resists her attraction to the German Major in war-torn France, by Diane Scott Lewis

                                           

To purchase, click HERE

I wrote this novel after watching a tv show about the German occupation during WWII. What if a young Englishwoman is trapped in France after the Germans invade and she must ask for help from the Commandant. She finds he's not at all who she thought he was, and a dangerous attraction develops. I hope you enjoy reading an excerpt.

Norah walked stiffly in, her courage waning, but her resolve anchored. She’d never been in this office before. And now with the Germans in charge, changing everything—and a child’s fate in her hands.

Major von Gottlieb stood behind his desk, tall and imposing, his expression curious. “What can I do for you, Fräulein Cooper?”

“My young cousin did something foolish, but he’s only a child.” She rubbed her knuckle along her collarbone and explained what happened in barely controlled words. “Please, don’t let anyone hurt him. He’s ten years old, and impulsive.” Tears dampened her eyes, despite her effort to appear tenacious. “Release him to his mother. It’s all a mistake.”

She saw the Major’s gaze change from surprised to concerned.

“Extraordinary. I will investigate at once. Wait here, Fräulein.” The Major thrust on his hat and indicated the chair in front of the desk. He marched from the room and shut the door. She heard strong words exchanged in German, the shuffle of feet.

Norah sank into the leather seat, unsure what to do. Her heart beat so fast, her chest ached. She glanced about the office. A picture of Hitler on the wall made her cringe. On a glass-fronted bookcase full of books was a smaller picture of a woman. Broad-faced but attractive. The Major’s wife?

Mahogany furniture filled the cramped room. The desk was neat, with a tan leather inlay. The room smelled pleasant, of lemon oil. She tried to balance herself as her mind spun.

A small table held a partially finished jigsaw puzzle. She stood to see what it was, to distract her upset.

The door opened behind her. She nearly jumped.

The Major strode in, his gaze fixed on her. He removed his hat. “Fräulein, it’s been taken care of. The child is being escorted to his mother as we speak.”

She pressed her hand to her breast, almost swaying. “Thank you. I’m so relieved.”

“Warn him he should not be so impulsive. It’s dangerous.” Without his hat, she saw the Commandant’s hair was sandy-colored, almost golden, a wave over his high forehead. He had a strong cleft chin.

“I will, I promise.” Her words came out too breathy. She still believed it unfair the villagers hadn’t access to their own coast, but she couldn’t allow her resentment to show.

“It seems a problem in your family, this impulsiveness. You should not have been dancing before the cottage the other night either.” He raised an eyebrow, but the glint in his eyes was somehow a challenge. “The soldiers notice these things.”

Her cheeks burned. Had he watched her dance? “You’re right. It won’t happen again. I’ll restrict my dances to the rear garden.”

“Good. See that you do. I’m only trying to keep you out of mischief, if that is possible.” His tone wasn’t harsh, his glance almost teasing.

“I must go and see how my cousins are.” Norah inched toward the door. She should have asked about Mr. Kerguelen, what happened to him? But wouldn’t push her luck. “Thank you, again. I’ll try not to be such a problem.”

“You’re welcome. Be warned to follow the rules no matter how you might object. Guten tag, Fräulein.” He bowed his head for an instant, like an aristocrat in a play. He smiled wryly. “Yet I imagine this won’t be our last meeting.”

Norah blinked then left the office and hurried across the square.

Was Jean home already? Surely the Major hadn’t lied to her. He seemed a gentleman. She gasped and clapped a hand over her mouth. What a bizarre thing to think about a Nazi commandant. What sort of man would follow the dictates of a tyrant like Hitler?

Find out more about me and my books

                              

                                         

To purchase, click HERE

In the eighteenth century women were forbidden to work as doctors (though many did in rural areas) and were denied any medical education.

Rose is determined to learn from the local doctor in a Cornish village filled with secrets and superstition. She has just had an unsuccessful encounter with him, but she won't give up.

Travel with her as she is embroiled in the local history, mystery. and deadly events.

An excerpt
Rose rubbed her palm over her temple as she stalked from Dr. Nelson’s cottage. The doctor was an insufferably insecure man, even if she had acted too brazen. His rejection weighed on her confidence, but she’d have to make amends so he wouldn’t scurry off like a rabbit.

It shouldn’t be a sin to want to be someone useful, a student of medical science instead of a master of perfect hem stitching. She’d proven herself smarter in her schooling, plus applying in a limited capacity the medical texts she’d read. Now she yearned to use her knowledge to promote healing.

                                       
Rose blew out her breath. Forced to leave America, she’d convinced herself that as a stranger she might find it easier to establish herself among people who didn’t know her. Had she been foolish to believe she could shape this village to her wishes? An ancient land of castles and traditions might thrust up higher walls for her to scale.

Her resolution returned; she stiffened her spine. She needed to become a part of a doctor’s—any doctor’s—practice.

Near the mill, an old woman hovered, staring. She wore a threadbare blue dress over a squat form and a red shawl with fringe about her shoulders. Hatless, her round face a network of wrinkles, she had wispy white hair that floated in the breeze.

Rose nodded politely and kept walking.

“Dydh da, a good day to you, Miss.” The old woman smiled, revealing a missing front tooth. “I’m Mrs. Trew. Hebasca they call me, an’ I need to talk to you, if you please.”

Rose paused, not wishing to be rude to the villagers. “I’m Miss Gwynn and I’m actually in a rush. We’ve recently moved in and there’s so much to do.” Still flustered, she longed for time to plan her next strategy. “Why did you need to speak with me?”

“You’re one o’ the new tenants at Avallen, an’ look a mite disappointed.” Mrs. Trew drifted nearer in a scent of sage. She had odd, yellow eyes, which she prodded over Rose. Perhaps she suffered from jaundice. “I see you’ve visited the lending library an’ visited with our Damawyn.”

“I wanted to research my ancestors who are supposed to be from this area.” Rose gripped her books, restless to continue on. “And find out some of the local history. Now if you’ll excuse me.”

“I’m the village charmer.” The old woman touched her finger to the side of her right eye. “Ask me what you seek. I know the history here; you don’t need no books for that.”

Rose took a step away. “That’s very kind of you, Mrs. Trew. Perhaps another time?”

“Hebasca, I insist. An’ there’s no time like the now. Me cottage be over there.” She placed her gnarled hand on Rose’s sleeve and pointed.

A sudden breeze sent Rose’s hair tickling along her neck. The clob cottage—built with a mixture of slate into the wattle and daub her father had explained—crouched across the road in a yard tangled with brambles and gorse. Its roof had thatch missing in places, and the shutters were worn and peeling paint.

Reluctant to visit there, Rose tested the old woman. “Do you know anything about the big stone ring near the cliff behind Avallen?”

“Ess? You seen it already, have you?” Hebasca nodded slowly, a wry grin curling her thin lips. “The ancient ones believed, and some still do, that if you be ailin’ or struck down with disease, if you crame on all fours...”

“I’m sorry. Crame?”

“That be the local word. If you crawled on all fours through a ringed stone, nine times backened to the sun, the ancients believed it would cure your ills.”

Rose recalled the ridiculous sensations she’d felt when she viewed the ring. “How peculiar. I guess ‘backened’ means your back to the sun?”

“It do.” The old woman’s cat-like eyes gleamed.

“Of course it’s all nonsense.” Rose prided herself on her steadiness, not given to vapors or swooning as many girls were.

“Not to people here.” Hebasca grasped Rose’s arm and tugged her across the road. “Cummas 'zon, an’ we’ll share a cup o’ tea. I’ll tell you more tales. Your ancestors are from hereabouts. That story be a bleak time from Lankyp’s past.”

Find out more about me and my books

                              

Diane lives in Western Pennsylvania with her naughty dachshund.

Trip to Alaska, my Last State, by Diane Scott Lewis

Today's post is about my trip to Alaska, a mysterious land to the far north. I didn't know if I could do it, I'd recently lost my husband and have mobility issues, but my best friend was a huge help-I couldn't have done it without her-and we had the adventure of a lifetime. I'd been through forty-nine states, I just needed Alaska.

Our cruise began in Seattle, Washington. Neither of us had cruised before.

The ship was huge, with over eleven decks. On our second day out, the sea became rough, and my friend seasick. I'm surprised I wasn't sick at all. A good sailor's wife, I guess. Though I couldn't walk anywhere without being bumped against a wall.

Juneau was our first port, a town tucked in among glaciers. You can't access it by road; plane and sea only, because of the miles of surrounding glaciers. The reason it remained the capital is that millions of dollars of gold was discovered here. 

It rained, heavily at times, so I got no picture of the town. Here is the port. 

It's a beautiful frontier town with friendly people. I splurged and bought myself a ruby ring for my birthday.

Our next stop was Sitka, on an island, and where Russia handed over Alaska to the U.S. in 1867.

Russian church in Sitka. Another beautiful town. We also visited a cannery where salmon is processed. Sitka calls itself the Salmon capital of the world.

We were supposed to see black bears, but they were obviously in hiding. That's okay; I've seen black bears in my front yard in Pennsylvania.

Our last port was Ketchikan. We visited a totem pole park, and learned about Alaska's indigenous people.

Later in the cruise, we anchored in Glacier Bay National Park, an amazing sight and site.

Here we are at Glacier Bay.

Along with the service on the ship, the delicious food, I recommend this cruise to anyone. Ask for a cabin with a veranda. It doesn't cost that much more and it lets so much light into your cabin. Plus, you can sit out if you dress warmly.

Now I'll get to work on my paranormal set in California.

                     

Diane lives in Western Pennsylvania with one naughty dachshund.

A Young Woman Fights for the Loyalists during the American Revolution

 

To purchase this novel click HERE

I decided to write a story from a loyalist's point of view, the British side, even though I'm American. My ancestors fought on the revolutionaries' side.

My heroine, Rowena, learns to decipher code under the guidance of the Welshman Derec. She must flee her home with her family as Washington's army closes in. Will she ever see Derec again?

I hope you enjoy this different view of the fight over America.

Here is an excerpt:

In the musty stone cottage they’d gathered in before, Rowena laid the paper bearing her cipher on the rough-hewn table. It had taken her all of yesterday to unravel the mystery of the Greek words. Dressed again like a boy, she sat without having to manage with petticoats and hoops. A lantern flickered beside the note. Sam, Derec and James stared down at it.

“This dispatch tells of rebel forces gathering again to protect Morristown in New Jersey. Their General Greene knows they’re outnumbered.” She kept her tone officious and massaged a bush scratch on her hand. She’d taken a great risk sneaking from her aunt’s home this evening. Sam had strolled boldly through the rear garden, the extra guard watching him, while she slipped off in another direction. They’d reunited at the stables to retrieve Kayfill.

On the tip of her tongue, she decided she wouldn’t dare ask the courier’s fate from whom they’d obtained this report. The first courier’s bloody stomach flashed through her mind.

"A well written story, produced by an author who knows her era. Details of espionage and intrigue keep those pages turning."

“Aye, General Knyphausen plans a second attack after the failure of Connecticut Farms.” Derec plucked up the note. “Greene has over a thousand Continental troops, plus the hundreds in the New Jersey militia to oppose the Hessians.”

“Connecticut Farms. Where you imprudently put yourself and Sam in grave danger.” James’ words cut through her. “But you never heed my warnings.”

“Dear James, we must work together to prevail in this war.” She tried Aunt Joan’s soothing manner, instead of allowing him to provoke her.

“I still think you should return to Easton, and Uncle Robert, before you’re hurt or arrested.” He averted his gaze, his shoulders hunched.

She grinned over her irritation. “How kind of you to worry about me, dear cousin.”

“We do worry, geneth.” Derec paced the hard-packed dirt floor, his face in and out of shadow, the note in his hands. He’d briefly smiled at her when they’d greeted tonight and cast her a look now and then.

She thought of his words at the river. The dare about her seeking a husband. The memory of his arm around her sent a heated tremor through her. She rubbed her nape, hard. If she wanted to be taken seriously, she couldn’t be seen as a simpering girl. The boy’s clothing sheltered her.

                               

For more on me and my books, visit my BWL author's page

https://bwlpublishing.ca/lewis-diane-scott/

Diane lives in Western Pennsylvania with one naughty dachshund.

A Five Star review from Long and Short Reviews for Secrets of Lakeluster House, by Diane Scott Lewis

 To purchase, click HERE

Genealogy is a window to the past…but is every story about previous generations true?

I loved the way Ms. Lewis described the slow transition from being a kid to being a teenager. Old hobbies can fall to the side as a thirteen or fourteen-year-old suddenly realizes they are interested in things that never caught their attention before, but it can also happen so gradually that one hardly notices the change at the time. This can be a tricky life stage to capture in fiction due to how quickly moods and interests can shift then, so I must tip my cap to the author for portraying it so well. Bravo!

Sage, Nate, and Patrick were given the perfect balance of adult supervision and freedom to explore their town as they tried to figure out what was keeping the ghosts from moving on. Did they sometimes make rash choices and ignore the sensible advice of the adults in their lives? Yes, because that’s what everyone does at their ages, and the storyline needed a little jolt of courage to keep moving along. This isn’t something I read about in young adult novels quite as often as I’d like to, but teens getting into a little mischief is such an important part of the genre.

The exciting plot twists in this book kept me reading. There were exactly the right number of clues about what was coming, and in a few cases the big reveals were allowed to be complete surprises instead. I enjoyed guessing what may happen next and then comparing my assumptions with what I actually read. Paying close attention is key to getting the most out of Sage’s adventures.

Secrets of Lakeluster House thrilled me

Long and Short Reviews

Read a spooky excerpt, Secrets of Lakeluster House, by Diane Scott Lewis

 

To purchase this novel, click HERE

My young adult, written with my granddaughter, is on N. N. Lights Author Spotlight.

Read a spooky excerpt when three children explore a haunted house related to their past. Did their Great great grandmother really murder another servant?

Editorial Review by Renee Duke A YA novel that will definitely appeal to young teens who like scary stories, Secrets Of Lakleuster House successfully conveys the insecurity and emotional turmoil of its adolescent and preteen protagonists as they find courage they didn’t know they had.

New Release | Secrets of Lakeluster House by Diane Scott Lewis with Jorja Parkinson #yalit #youngadult #teenlit #newrelease #bookboost

My young adult, Secrets of Lakeluster House, is available on Amazon, by Diane Scott Lewis.

 

I wrote this with my granddaughter; I'm so proud!

To purchase, click HERE

Published by BWL Publishing Inc.

Sage, at fourteen, grows up in turmoil in Nahant, Massachusetts. Her changing body, her parents’ rocky marriage. When her cousin Patrick visits for the summer, his parents’ divorce has given him a reckless anger. He insists they explore the creepy mansion in the woods. Nate, Sage’s younger brother, is reluctant to approach the manor where a beloved teacher was found hanged months earlier. The children’s great-great grandmother worked at Lakeluster House in a previous century and was under suspicion of shooting another servant.

Now an old lady and her butler have moved in and the kids bring a welcome cake. Invited inside, Sage encounters a strange little girl who shows her the manor’s dark secrets—sparking Sage’s curiosity. Will the butler—a man with his own mysteries—throw them out for snooping? Who is real and who is a ghost? Was her relative guilty? And what danger lingers in the attic? Sage must gather her courage, risking her life to find out.

Diane lives in Western Pennsylvania with one naughty dachshund.