Wednesday Writers–From My Balcony by Patricia Bond

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book research, Catherine Castle Wednesday Writers series, contemporary romance, Contemporary Women's fiction, Excerpt of From My Balcony, France, From My Balcony, Patricia Bond

Today Wednesday Writers welcomes Patricia Bond to the blog. Patricia will be talking about France, unexpected research, and her women’s fiction contemporary romance From My Balcony. Welcome, Patricia.

What comes first – the story or the research?

 

Sounds like a silly question, doesn’t it?

I can hear you. “Research, of course!”

But then, what if the research isn’t research at all? What if it’s simply a vacation? Or a trip you’re taking for some other reason entirely, and it turns into a story?

That’s what happened to me with “From My Balcony.” I never started out thinking about a story set in France. I have always had a soft spot in my heart for the country. When I studied French in high school, it came easily. Maybe it was my Latin background (thank you, Sister Mary Eligia). Or maybe because, as my best friend said, I’d lived a past life there.

However it happened, I’ve always been a Francophile.

When my husband announced he had a short military deployment there many, many years ago, and I found out he was headed to the south of France, I knew I was going, if only for a week.

He had to work almost the entire time I was there, which was a mixed blessing. While I missed his company on my sightseeing, I had the freedom to go where I wanted, for however long I wanted. So long as I was back in time for dinner. And like my character, Diana, I had the pleasure of choosing a different city or town to visit every day, like “picking candies from a dish.” I was charmed by so many places. Arles, Nimes, Salon, Aix. But when I chanced upon Cassis, it took hold of my heart and my soul and never let go.

Fast forward – okay, slow forward – ten years. I was still dreaming about Cassis. About how lovely it looked, how I would love to live there on the shores of the Mediterranean. A story started brewing. “What if?” kept popping into my head. I was writing historical romances then, was on the verge of selling my first one, and in the back of my head, Cassis kept dancing around showing me sunsets over the water, teasing my memories with the scents of water, fish, and lavender.

 

Sometimes it was hard to visualize runaway slaves and the shores of the Chesapeake because I kept seeing flirtatious Frenchmen and calanques instead. But I persevered, and “By Love’s Honor Bound” became reality.

And still, Cassis haunted me. For another ten years and two more historical romances it haunted me. It reared its head in the middle of rural Pennsylvania and tried to give my Civil War Colonel’s dialogue a French accent. It valiantly tried to turn his love, Melanie, into a fifty-ish American divorcee with grown children and shattered confidence. It tried to make a rural farmhouse into a rehabbed monastery owned by an aging film star.

When I started to dream scenes and dialogue runs, I knew I was a goner.

“From My Balcony” HAD to be written. I wove memories together with “What ifs,” and gave birth to my first contemporary romance. Because Cassis still held my heart.

And because I really wanted to sleep.

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From My Balcony

By Patricia Bond

 

Do you want to live your life or hide from it?

Diana knew she lied to her best friend when she said she wanted to live it.

Oh, how desperately she wanted to hide! Hide from her husband’s betrayals, hide from the blame and guilt heaped on her by her younger daughter’s refusal to accept the divorce, hide from the pity, the questions, the snarky innuendos from her “friends.”

Most of all, hide from herself and her failures.

Her family accepted her need to “find herself,” and this apartment in the south of France was perfect with its balcony and view of the sea and town. Low enough to be able to watch life happen below her, high enough to not participate in any of it.

Now if only the gentle people of Cassis would let her do that.

Excerpt of From My Balcony

It was the balcony that drew me first. Three stories up and wrapping around two sides of the building, one side of it faced the sparkling Mediterranean. The other looked down on the town’s main street, lined with a small profusion of shops and cafes so quintessentially French my heart ached with the sweetness of it.

I watched the light glint madly off the waters of the sea, forming iridescent pools that melded into the shadows cast by the massive rock formations called calanques. The behemoths rose from the water like so many Poseidons, framing and protecting the small harbor.

I turned from the balcony back to the floor-to-ceiling windows and doors, which gave the small apartment an open, airy feeling. Most of the place was given over to a great room, with a kitchen area so tiny you could bump into yourself if you turned around too quickly. Only an island divided it from the living room and kept it from feeling claustrophobic. Through a door on the right, the bedroom had a view of the street, a pair of double doors giving access to that side of the balcony.

There wasn’t much, but then when you’re not the trophy wife, you don’t need much. And most of what I needed came with the apartment. It was as though it had been made up, ready and waiting for me.

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Want to read more? You can buy From My Balcony here. Warning to readers of sweet romance—this book has mild open door romance scenes.

About the Author:

When not writing, Patricia spends time with her family

and grandchildren. Her greatest goal is to be the partner in crime granny and give her grandchildren LOTS of silly memories.

She also indulges her other passions – traveling when possible, reading voraciously, knitting and embroidery, practicing reiki, and her latest – attempting watercolor.

She lives in Western New York not far from the Honeymoon Capital of the World, so writing romance is pretty much a given.

She plans to continue writing both contemporary and historical romances and give her readers stories that will touch their hearts.

Because, in any time and in any place, love is all that matters.

Social Media: https://www.facebook.com/patricia.bond.author/

 

Website: https://patricia-bond.com/

Wednesday Writers Welcomes Patricia Bond and Building A Christmas

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Building a Christmas, Catherine Castle's Wednesday Writers, Christmas romance, civil war romance, excerpt from Building a Christmas, Patricia Bond

Today I’m welcoming Patricia Bond to Wednesday Writers. Patricia will be talking about her historical Christmas romance novella set in the Civil War era, which deals with two tortured souls seeking inner peace after the Civil War work to build a life for themselves and the orphans they care for. They start by Building a Christmas. A portion of the proceeds from the sale of this book is donated to a disabled American veterans’ organization, to help combat the effects of PTSD. Welcome, Patricia.

Thanks, Catherine.

Building a Christmas is one of those stories that brought itself to life. Aspects of it had been percolating for quite some time. A while back, we visited Gettysburg and happened upon re-enactment weekend. In talking to the actors, I found out there really was a sharpshooter unit from Pennsylvania, and they really did wear green coats – wool, no less! in July! – with dull brass buttons, and hid in the trees picking off the enemy during battle. With the direction the world was taking, it seemed we have never stopped warring somewhere. I found myself more and more concerned with refugees fleeing the wars in the Middle East, and realized this, along with PTSD, was nothing new. Civilians and military are both afflicted and have been since our earliest history as a species. I watched news stories of returning soldiers, of children displaced and orphaned, injured and scared, and knew I couldn’t let it go unaddressed, nor could I let it end without hope. And then… Jeb was born. And so was my story.

Building A Christmas

By Patricia Bond

Colonel Nathaniel Walker has been ravaged by the Civil War nearly as much as his country has. Now seeking the sanctuary of home, he hopes to find solace from the dreams haunting him most nights. Instead, he finds an orphanage for war orphans has sprung up next door. Now, his guilt has faces – fourteen of them. And the woman who cares for them. Melanie Treymont exhibits more courage under fire than any soldier he’s ever seen. Is she the one who can help him rebuild his life and finally put his demons to rest?

Melanie Treymont hopes to make amends for her dead husband’s actions by taking in war orphans. But facing eviction, she may have to give up her plans of building a life for them. Unexpected help comes from her neighbor, Colonel Walker, who steps up to the challenge, despite fighting his own inner battles.

These two tortured souls unite for the children, working to build a life for them as well as themselves. They start by “Building a Christmas.”

 

Book excerpt:

He narrowed his eyes trying to see clearly through the night. One of the fenceposts was sorely misshapen. As he edged closer, Nathaniel could see it was not a fence post at all, but a human.

A woman. She seemed to be shaking.

The cold, no doubt, although why in the hell didn’t she just go inside if she was that cold? The thought occurred that perhaps she had no home, in which case, he decided, he would offer her the barn and a blanket.

He approached her and realized it was Miss Treymont. What the devil was she doing here?

He was about to speak, ask her that very question when he heard the sob. He stopped in his tracks. Crying women were not his strong suit. He’d had more than his share of them in the war.

And yet. . .

There was something so forlorn, so lost and full of despair about her. She needed someone to comfort her, someone to understand her.

Someone that wasn’t him.

He wanted to turn back. She hadn’t heard him yet, would never know he’d been there. So why wouldn’t his feet obey him?

He kept coming closer, finally stood directly behind her. His hands crept up of their own volition, soothing over her arms. He’d expected her to startle. Instead, her hand inched over to cover his in silent supplication.

Nathaniel turned her around, drew her into his embrace. She moved closer, put her hands and her head on his chest. His arms wound around her, hands stroking her back as she cried into his jacket. He closed his eyes briefly, feeling her warmth and softness and laid his cheek on her head. Instinct overcame caution and he softly kissed her hair.

They stood a long time until her sobs finally subsided. Feeling her control returning, Nathaniel reluctantly let her go. He gazed down into her eyes, tears still sparkling like the new-fallen snow, and wiped away the last trace of wetness from her cheek. In utter silence, they looked at each other then slowly turned away, each to return to their own home.

As Nathaniel crossed the field, he paused and looked back at her. She walked as though caught in thick swamp water, her movements slow, dragging. It seemed it took all her energy to simply put one foot in front of the other.

He knew the feeling well and he felt an unfamiliar emotion unfurl in his chest. After weeks and months of ruthlessly eradicating all traces of it, he thought, he realized he was feeling sympathy.

Sympathy for this twin soul of despair he’d just held in his arms.

 

About the author:

Books, history, hooped skirts and happily ever after. These are author Patricia Bond’s favorite things she weaves into stories. Add in a dashing hero, an intrepid heroine, and you’ve got her recipe for a historical romance.

Taking advantage of America’s rich history and incredible landscape, her settings have run from the Great Lakes, to rural Pennsylvania, to Baltimore/Washington and the Chesapeake Bay, and lately, the south of France.

Wife, mother, and grandmother, she loves retirement and living near the Great Lakes where she indulges her other passions besides writing. An award-winning amateur photographer, Reiki practitioner, and guild knitter, you may find her at the lakeshore, notebook in hand and camera beside her, drawing inspiration from her amazing surroundings. She may even invite you to pull up a rock and join her.

Patricia’s latest work (unpublished at this time) is a contemporary romance that has just placed 2nd in the Pages From the Heart contest.

You may contact Patricia at: http://www.patricia-bond.com/   Find buy links for this and all her other books on her website.

 

 

 

Catherine Castle’s Christmas Reads–Building a Christmas by Patricia Bond

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Building a Christmas, Catherine Castle's Christmas Reads, Christmas romance, civil war romance, excerpt from Building a Christmas, historical Christmas romance, Patricia Bond

 

Welcome to Catherine Castle’s Christmas Reads. Today, Patricia Bond is providing an excerpt from her book Building a Christmas. Let’s get on with the story.

 

Building a Christmas

By Patricia Bond

     Nathaniel drew her into his embrace. She put her hands on his chest, her head on his shoulder. His arms wound around her, hands stroking her back as she cried into his jacket. He closed his eyes, feeling her warmth and softness and laid his cheek on her head. Instinct overcame caution and he softly kissed her hair.

They stood a long time until her sobs subsided. Feeling her control returning, Nathaniel slowly released her. He searched her eyes, tears still sparkling like the new-fallen snow and wiped away the last trace of wetness from her cheek. In utter silence, they looked at each other before turning away, each to return to their own home.

As Nathaniel crossed the field, he looked back. She walked as though caught in thick swamp water, her movements slow, dragging. It seemed it took all her energy to simply put one foot in front of the other.

He knew the feeling well and felt an unfamiliar emotion unfurl in his chest. After weeks and months of ruthlessly eradicating all traces of it, he realized he was feeling sympathy.

Sympathy for this twin soul of despair he’d just held in his arms.

Quiet, solemn faces ringed the breakfast table at the orphanage. Melanie tried in vain to coax a laugh or a giggle. Even a tiny smile would have been a success. But all the children, down to the littlest, kept their eyes down, their mouths flat. Every so often, from different places around the table, she heard a muffled sniff, a soft catch of breath as they fought for control. It was nearly more than she could bear.

Determined to keep to their normal routine, she doled out chores for the afternoon, and herded everyone into the large room that they had turned into their schoolroom. She took them through their lessons while Mrs. Grinkov prepared their lunch and Mr. Grinkov chopped the wood for their stove. The lessons went poorly, distracted as the children were by her news. And Melanie hadn’t even told them the worst of it – they had to leave the orphanage by Christmas Day. They would not even allow the children to have their Christmas. Melanie, herself, could concentrate no better than the children and she finally gave up the notion of lessons for today. Instead, she gave them free time to play inside while she stared out the window and thought.

She hoped she could come up with some idea to raise money, but Colonel Walker kept creeping into her thoughts. She had wanted nothing more than solitude last night. Solitude she hoped would clear her mind. The only clarity it brought was the direness of their situation. And the hopelessness.

She’d felt so alone and helpless, knowing only she stood between the children and homelessness. And she had failed bitterly.

And then… and then she’d felt arms come around her, drawing her close, soothing her despair. Suddenly she didn’t feel alone any more. Heat poured into her from his hands and body. Heat and strength. Determination.

And perhaps something more she hadn’t felt since her husband Jeremy had died.

But that – that would have to wait. The children needed her more than she needed Colonel Walker.

Now, where and how and how soon could she get enough money to match the offer from the textile company?

And at Christmastime, to boot? she thought bitterly.

♥♥♥♥♥♥

              Nathaniel had walked most of the night. Every little while, he’d stopped and looked in the direction of the orphanage, searching through the darkness for some sign of life in the building.

Some sign of her.

He must be going mad, he thought, for just as he’d not quite known how he’d been given a battlefield commission, or how he’d come to be sharing her lunch, or riding in the wagon next to little Jeb and Lorna, Nathaniel didn’t quite know how he’d come to be embracing Miss Treymont. Running his hands up and down the curve of her back.

He’d kissed her hair, for God’s sake!

How? Why?

He had no answer, save that he’d dearly love to do so again.

He walked to near-exhaustion, but not quite. Even so, when he finally sought his bed again and hoped to sleep, he fell into a quiet sleep, without dreams of cannon, blood or soldiers, but with sparkling snow, rosy cheeks and hands holding him close.

Want to read more? You can find Building a Christmas as an ebook at Amazon and in print at Amazon. Please note, this book does have a very small bit of mild language in it.

 

About the Author

Books, history, hooped skirts and happily ever after. Those are just a few of my favorite things that I weave into stories. Add in a dashing hero and an intrepid heroine and you’ve pretty much got my recipe for a historical romance.

America’s history is so rich and full, it serves as a natural backdrop for my books, and I try to take full advantage of it, along with its incredible landscape. My settings have run from the Great Lakes, to rural Pennsylvania, to Baltimore/Washington and the Chesapeake Bay. In a departure from historical, though, I’m currently finishing up a contemporary women’s fiction book, set in the south of France. We’ll see how that goes. But never fear, historical romance is my first love and I will never abandon it. I have more ideas than time to write! I would hope readers will join me on all kinds of journeys through my books, in all sorts of places and all kinds of time.

Wife, mother, and grandmother, I love being retired and living near the Great Lakes where I’m free to indulge my other passions besides writing. I’m an award-winning amateur photographer, member of the local knitting guild and have a terminal addiction to travel. Look for me at the lakeshore, notebook in hand and camera at my side drawing inspiration from my amazing surroundings.

You can always reach me through my website: www.Patricia-Bond.com, where you’ll also find buy links for all my books. Building a Christmas is available from Amazon.com as an ebook or in print as part of the Patricia Bond Anthology. You never know – a quick note from you could snag you a signed bookmark. A review posted on Amazon definitely will!