Donna Maree Hanson, Author, Phd in Creative Writing

You could say I blew into Auckland last night. However, the Qantas landing was perfect, the decent a little bumpy. Walking to my hotel with my heavy suitcases was indeed a challenge. I was blown backwards and often had to struggle to move forward. Later, I realised I could have caught a bus so didn’t have to work up such a sweat to get to the nearby Ibis hotel. However, the blowing backwards was just leaving the terminal and walking to the car park where the bus was in anycase.

Also, even when we are old we never learn.

Today, the house is being blown about by very strong winds. It’s quite interesting. However, as the weather is a bit shite and will be for the rest of my stay, I can take this time to catch up on my administration. I was supposed to go stay in a caravan but I haven’t heard if that is still the plan. Pray for me.

Speaking of administration, I’ve added Amber Rose to my payhip store. Buying direct means I get a tad more $, less the take from Payhip and Paypal! The book delivery is by Book Funnel so you get the file for your selected reader. My buy direct link is here.

I’ve also updated my book page which as buyer links there too. Link to the Cry Havoc page. You will notice I am sure that I have been rather abyssmal on the links to Emerald Fire. I’ll add that to my to do list.

I’m drafting a newletter and participating in a Book Funnel giveaway. I have been rather slack on that side of things of late. (You might say a year or so).

I was thinking of making this post about Amber Rose (and it mostly is) and I wondered if I could share an excerpt. Let me go have a gander. Not easy as my files are on my IMac at home. Okay, round about way but I managed to download the epub and do sections of copy and paste as the epub limits the amount of copying.

This is part way into the story and there has been general chaos at the inn and more to follow, plus a copious amount of baked goods, scones, bread rolls, baps, sweet buns…and lots of tea.

With a low mood, Jemima made her way to the upstairs parlour to partake of some breakfast. Aunt Prudence was at table when she entered. “Good morning, Aunt. I hope you slept well.”
“Good morning. I had a passing night. Aly woke three times to be fed. Otherwise he caused no trouble. Have your friends set out?”
“Yes,” Jemima replied taking a seat. She reached for some bacon, which was most likely cold and eyed the scrambled eggs. Perhaps her stomach was not up to cold eggs. She cut into the bacon and nodded when the aunt lifted the tea pot.
“Thank you. I am starving.”
“You mean are hungry, dear. You are certainly not starving. That is a state of being you might never experience.”
“I stand corrected. I am very hungry. Is that a bread roll peeking out of the napkin?”
“Yes.” She passed it over.
Jemima buttered it quickly and cut it in halves.
“Why did you not say that your Uncle Ferdinand was coming to visit? I would have taken greater care with my hair and my toilette this morning.”
Jemima dropped a spoon of jam on the tablecloth. “Uncle Ferdy? He is here?” She grabbed a napkin to clean off the offending stain.
“Yes, that is what I said. I bumped into him in the hall and he complimented me on my gown and complexion before he went to see my nephew.” She preened as she conveyed this. “I am so pleased I chose this particular gown as it does wonders for my complexion.” The gown in question was a deep maroon and did look well on her. With only fine lace at the collar and cuffs, it was remarkably unadorned. Her curls looped nicely around her ears, offset by a lace cap with trailing ribbons.
“That is good news, Aunt. I was hoping he could come. I must have missed him in all the noise of departure. Thank you for telling me.”
Jemima thought Uncle Ferdy must have popped in. The innkeeper was wily so she did not know how she was going to explain the new arrival, who was likely not seen arriving in a conventional fashion. Had he walked up plain as day, she would have noticed him. She did some mental calculations. If they consolidated Fulton and Milly, the sick room would accommodate him or there was the room the Heatons had vacated. She frowned as she thought it through. Or he could just pop off again and go home but the questions, the questions. No, he would have to play the part of guest.
Standing up suddenly, she gulped the last of her tea. “Forgive me, I must see Uncle Ferdy and check on Edward.”
“Has there been no improvement?” The aunt asked, turning in her chair as Jemima made for the door.
“Not just yet, Aunt.”
“Very concerning. Do tell Mr White that I can procure fresh tea for him if he is in need.”
Aunt Prudence inclined her head, turned back to the table, and as if she was the queen, lifted the teapot to pour herself another cup of tea.
Bursting into her room and rubbing the crumbs from her lips, she found Uncle Ferdy bent over her husband. “Thank heavens you heard me.”
Uncle Ferdy stood up straight and turned to her. “There you are. I was wondering what you were about. Sorry to not come sooner but I was in the middle of something.” He peered at her. “Have I interrupted your breakfast?”
She waved him off. “No, but Aunt Prudence is keeping the kettle warm for you.”
He lifted his eyebrows. “I see, how thoughtful of her.”
Hands clasping each other in turn, she asked, “How is he? Can you help him? Is it a hex?”
Uncle Ferdy met her gaze. He had stripped off the bedcovers, leaving Edward in a night shirt, and sock-adorned feet. “The same. Perhaps and, yes, I believe so. A nasty one.”
Jemima went to the other side of the bed, not sure whether to be relieved or not about Uncle Ferdy’s answer. At least he was better equipped to help. “He looks so pale. He is breathing, but it is slow and shallow.”
A sharp knock on the door interrupted their conversation. “Mrs Huntington? It is Sir Giles, the Magistrate. I need to speak with you urgently.”
Alarmed, Jemima stared at Uncle Ferdy. How was she going to explain him to the magistrate on top of the innkeeper? “Go away now.” she whispered urgently.
“It is not that easy to pop in and out,” he whispered back. “I need to rest between.”
“Mrs Huntington?” The magistrate repeated.
“Coming!” She turned to Uncle Ferdy. “Hide then.”

Excerpt From
Amber Rose: Cry Havoc Book 3
Donna Maree Hanson
This material is protected by copyright.

And of course after all the proof reading, I found a typo. I swear they are god’s curse. I hope you enjoy the excerpt. Now to write myself a note to fix that typo.

I am at the Ages of Pages book signing event on the 26th of April in Hamilton. It’s a free event. Details are here.

Talk again soon.

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