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Saturday, October 14, 2017

Honourable Lies by Fran Connor 💗 Book Tour & Gift Card Giveaway 💗 (Historical Romance)

Victorian England with its hypocritical mores, a poor orphan girl elevated to High Society where she learns how to be a 'Lady', a handsome and wealthy love interest and a dastardly baddie combine to make this Romatic Thriller a page turner that you won't put down. The road up from the gutter is long; the way back may be quicker unless Victoria can outwit her Nemesis and overcome her jealousy.

Victoria strode off to find Mrs Jolyon, whom she thought would probably be in the kitchen with the boiler man. Indeed, she was. Victoria opened the kitchen door to find Mrs Jolyon on her back across the pine table, her drawers on the floor and her skirts up around her chest. The boiler man’s trousers were round his ankles and he was pumping hard.
Victoria looked in horror at the sight. She knew some boys and girls at the orphanage did it though she had not. She was shocked to see her employer in this position and thought about kind Mr Jolyon so far away. She did not know what to do. Had Mrs Jolyon seen her? If not, she could pretend that she never saw anything. Then her eyes met those of Mrs Jolyon.
‘Oh my God, not again!’ screamed Mrs Jolyon.
Victoria slammed the door and stood in the hallway, wondering what on earth she was going to do.
Flustered, Mrs Jolyon burst out of the kitchen, now fully clothed. ‘Come with me, Victoria, I need to talk to you.’
Victoria followed her into the kitchen. The boiler man now wore his clothes and a sheepish look.
‘You did not see anything,’ said Mrs Jolyon.
‘I did not see anything,’ said Victoria.
‘You can’t trust her,’ said the boiler man.
‘You’re probably right,’ said Mrs Jolyon.
‘I won’t say a word, honest,’ said Victoria.
‘Too risky,’ said the boiler man.
‘Yes,’ said Mrs Jolyon.
‘Please, Ma’am, I won’t say anything.’
‘Go and get your things. I’m afraid you will have to leave,’ said Mrs Jolyon.
‘But . . .’
‘And do not think you can blackmail us, young lady. We’ll say you were dismissed for stealing, like the other one,’ said the boiler man.
Victoria knew she would have to go. ‘May I have a reference, Ma’am?’
‘No, that could complicate matters if you were dismissed for stealing,’ said the boiler man.
‘Get out now,’ said Mrs Jolyon. ‘And leave the clothes I lent you behind. Do not speak to Elizabeth on the way out.’


A warrior, six feet tall with bulging muscles in his arms and legs, stepped towards the boy who looked up and ran towards the man, flinging his arms around his legs, shouting something that Richard could not understand. This warrior then barked out something to his companions.
The other five warriors let out a cry—something like ‘Ugh!’—and advanced towards Richard with spears pointed. They jabbed the weapons forwards and backwards as if making stabbing motions.
‘Ugh!’ again and they came on.
Penelope screamed. Lady Adele put her arms around her daughter.
Richard threw a look towards Sipho to see if he had loaded the rifle. If he could get one shot off it may slow down the others enough for him to dash into his tent and grab his weapon. The odds would be better, though still against them. It was a slim chance, but he didn’t have much choice. He took a deep breath. With blood surging around his body to prepare him to fight, Richard kept his eyes fixed on the warrior. He cleared his mind of any reluctance to kill in the full knowledge that it was kill or be killed.
To Richard’s surprise, Sipho wore a grin. Had he turned against him to save his own life?
The warriors moved closer, still jabbing the air with their spears and chanting, ‘Ugh, ugh.’
One of the warriors was now near enough to stab Richard. If he was to die, it would not be without a fight. Richard fixed the warrior with his eyes and moved first to his left and then to his right. The warrior followed him with his spear.
‘Do not do anything, Nkosi,’ shouted the grinning Sipho.
But Richard continued to move to the left and then to the right. A second warrior had now come within stabbing distance.
Richard looked over at his mother and sister, helpless in front of their tent. He did not want to imagine their fate.
Suddenly the warriors stepped back and raised their spears in the air. The one to whom the boy had run moved forward.
He said something to Richard but it was beyond his comprehension, partly because it was in a language he did not understand, and partly because the blood pumped around his body with such force he could hardly reason.
‘They are honouring you, Nkosi,’ said Sipho.
It took seconds to sink in but it did. Richard looked at the warriors. They were smiling and waving their spears in the air.
‘That one is the boy’s father and he is thanking you for saving his son,’ said Sipho. ‘They are not going to kill us!’


Fran Connor is British and lives in SW France with his wonderful wife Viv, their dog Molly and chickens. He claims he's living in that area for the lifestyle and weather which he says helps an author's creative juices. It may just be an excuse to drink wine and lounge in the sun. He writes novels, nine published so far with two more coming out soon.

In addition to novels, he also writes screenplays.


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  1. It sounds like a great read. Where do you like to settle down and write your novels?

  2. Honourable Lies sounds like a good read. Thank you

  3. Your main character, Victoria, reminds me of Melinda Tantries, who blackmails her way out of poverty as well. She's played by Barbra Streisand in the movie 'On A Clear Day You Can See Forever'. Was she an inspiration?


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