This is historical romance author Sonya Heaney’s blog. For information about her books, please visit her website, or one of the links below.
Note: I am featuring some of the review books I’ve had for a while, but run out of time to do a review for. That’s not to say I’m not going to read them; it’s just that I’ve fallen behind, and think the authors deserve an appearance here!
Kitty Hamilton arrives in Tanganyika with high hopes for her new life. An exciting adventure halfway across the world could be just what she and Theo need to recover from the scandal that almost tore them apart.
She is determined to play the role of the perfect wife, but her dreams soon begin to unravel. Theo is distracted with his important British government post, and while Kitty had imagined doing valuable work of her own, she finds that choosing the right frock to wear to the club is the biggest challenge of her day.
In this wild and foreign land, where very different powers prevail, the head can’t always rule the heart. As old wounds resurface and new passions ignite, Kitty and Theo confront emotions that push them beyond the boundaries of all that they know and believe in.
The Perfect Wife is a breathtaking story about the struggle between duty and desire, jealousy and love, commitment and freedom. And the need to follow the call of your heart, wherever it may lead you…
Happy Ukrainian New Year! As Ukrainian Christmas doesn’t happen until the 6th – 7th of January, New Year happens in the middle of the month.
I mentioned a few days ago that my book, The Landowner’s Secret, is on sale for $1.99 for the months of January and February, but what I didn’t mention was that the promotion is part of a bigger sale across Harlequin and Mills and Boon titles.
The sitewide promotion is open to readers in Australia and New Zealand and can be found on romance.com.au.
My book can also be purchased from Amazon Kindle for the same price until the end of this month.
Another week of extreme heat, bushfires and smoke. I’m guessing this is our new normal in Australia now …
Merry Christmas – again. Ukrainians celebrated on Monday and Tuesday, according to the old calendar. It was a weird one this year. How do you celebrate when your entire region burns?
My book, The Landowner’s Secret, is on sale for $1.99 until the 1st of March!
Purchase links HERE:
New South Wales, 1885
When Alice Ryan wakes to find thugs surrounding her cottage, on the hunt for her no-good brother, she escapes into the surrounding bush.
It is wealthy landowner Robert Farrer who finds her the next morning, dishevelled, injured, and utterly unwilling to share what she knows. With criminals on the loose and rumours that reckless bushrangers have returned to the area, Robert is determined to keep Alice out of danger, and insists on taking her into his home-despite the scandal it may cause. Convincing her to stay on with him for her own safety, however, is going to take some work.
What Robert doesn’t expect is his growing attraction to the forthright, unruly woman staying in his home. Before either of them can settle into their odd new situation, their home and wellbeing come under threat and they will need to trust each other to survive. But they are both keeping secrets, secrets that have the potential to ruin their burgeoning love, their livelihood … and their lives.
I’ve been noticing something for a while now, and I get the impression I’m not the only one who does this:
When I reread, so often the titles I pick up I rated three or four stars on Goodreads, rather than the best-written books I’ve read.
Maybe I didn’t particularly love the main characters, but I loved the angst-filled storyline. Or maybe some of the dialogue is so smart or so funny, but the plot is a mess. Or maybe there’re a couple of scenes I love to pieces, even if the rest of the book fell short.
It’s across every genre: romance, and not romance. Historical fiction, paranormal and urban fantasy, suspense, contemporaries.
I wish I could remember where, but a while ago I read an article that said there’s such thing as a “five star book”, and such thing as a “great read”, and that they often don’t match up.
Luckily, they often DO. I have a favourites shelf on Goodreads with over a hundred books on it.
However, sometimes an author can write a book I otherwise dislike, but I just keep on picking it back up to reread because they’ve captured something like nobody else has managed to.
Paris in 1901 – a time of photography and airships.
All right, I’ve had it. If I see one more book or television show or movie about the Tudors or Marie Antoinette or World War One labelled as a “Regency romance”, I’m going to scream!
Even if you use a slightly extended version of the term “Regency” to describe historical romance books (say, 1800 to 1830), I think it should be made illegal to call stories set a full century before or after the era “Regency romances”.
A popular author’s new historical romance series is allegedly set in the early 1900s, and yet it’s being labelled “Regency” by readers and publishers alike, and fails to include any of the massive changes that happened in the world in those ninety years between one era and the other. I’m seeing this so often in historical fiction that it’s driving me bonkers!
Here’s how it works:
Jane Austen, skinny dresses, Napoleon, and a man too mentally unstable to rule on the British throne.
Trains, photographs, telegrams, telephones, big sleeves and even bigger skirts, Christian morals hiding dirty lifestyles, and a short, (allegedly) grumpy lady on the British throne.
Cars, airships, early feature films, and a large, sickly man on the British throne.
Labelling an Edwardian book set nearly a century after Jane Austen died as Regency is like setting a book in 2019 and including the first Academy Awards (with Emil Jannings – born 135 years ago – winning best actor), Stalin’s purges, the birth of Audrey Hepburn and Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis, and the death of Wyatt Earp. Oh, and while we’re at it, we might as well include the Wall Street Crash and the beginning of the Great Depression, and pretend the internet doesn’t exist. In 2019.
Absurd? Yes. So please, please stop it. The past is a little more complicated – and interesting – than that.
Today is Christmas Eve according to the old calendar, and tonight millions of people (including Ukrainians like me) celebrate with a twelve-dish dinner.
With the disaster surrounding us and a house full of smoke, this is going to be an odd one.
Yesterday Canberra had its hottest day on record. And now, mid-morning, the bushfire smoke (above) is worse than it has been since the 2003 firestorm. Because the air conditioning just brings in the smoke I ended up sleeping on the couch last night, where it was cooler.
This has been an extraordinary and tragic week for Australia. There’s nothing that has happened in any other country that is comparable to the scale of this disaster.
Sorry for the lack of posts recently. I was in a little hamlet near the Victorian town of Bright for a week – with no Wi-Fi – and that area now has bushfires everywhere. And now I’m home the fires keep knocking out the phone lines and the internet.
My city, Canberra, currently officially has the worst air quality in the world, thanks to the smoke from the bushfires. The southern part of the city is the worst, and the reading for the worldwide worst air is being taken a few streets from my house. We’re covered in smoke and brown dust.
Before and after:
The national parks around me are being evacuated as I type because they’re worried the fire is going to hit us. And the holiday I’m supposed to soon go on the to NSW South Coast, to research for an upcoming book, is in doubt as Mogo – the gold rush town I wanted to visit – burnt down on New Year’s Eve:
When I returned home from Victoria I discovered that the neighbour hadn’t fed his cat in recent memory, and the little sore on his chin had grown to the point he no longer has any fur on his chin, neck or ears – just red-raw sores.
Here he is before he was sick:
I’ve taken control of the cat at the moment, and my time these days is taken up with emergency visits to and phone calls with the vet, and battles with the poor guy to try and get medicine in him and medicinal cream on the wounds – he hates it. I’ve at least managed to get the infection to stop stinking, and he’s gained a bit of weight.
I’ve had a charity approach me to try and help with his recovery, and his owner, who refuses to pay for any medical treatment, needs to be in prison.
I got a lot of typing done while I was in Victoria, but it’s been hard to work since, with our whole region on fire. I can’t even work on a few of my manuscripts, because the locations I was using no longer exist!
This is an extraordinary way to begin the year. It’s horrifying, and it has only just begun.