The Flowers of Time: Jones and Gender

Let’s talk about gender with regard to Jones in The Flowers of Time today, just because, including a deleted scene.

The Flowers of Time, cover

It got to the point as I was writing where I felt there was altogether too much pondering and self-examination by Jones in the early part of the book. Although she’s doing a lot of self-examination, there’s another part of her that just wants to get on with things. And I began to feel as if I was making her an info-dump type of character and the book was becoming a bit more of an examination of how she felt about herself than a road-trip with botany and monsters who melt people.

So… generally speaking, Jones is pretty grumpy at having to make any sort of choice about gender. She never really had to think about it before she went to London. She was extremely reluctant to carry out the death-bed promise to her father to travel to England and try out being a lady of good family. Coming home to the mountains was a huge relief and she now has mixed feelings about her budding friendship with the Mertons if it means she has to behave in a particular way to meet their social expectations.

She’s a bit confused all round, really, and she resents having to put thought in to these messy, human relationships rather than concentrate on her work. She’s definitely a person who sees her mind as important rather than her body. I love her dearly and it hurt a lot to have to delete this scene about her deliberations–it had to go because it was slowing down the pace of the story. It was part of her growth as a person and it still definitely happened in my Jones-head-cannon!

Deleted Scene: Jones’ Preparations

So by the time the Mertons arrived, she was ready. They took a week to make their own preparations for the mountain trails, but Carruthers and Merton seemed to be competent and she left them to it, mostly spending her time with Miss Merton. Initially she felt that it might be a chore, but her initial impression of Edith as a correct English Miss had become modified as the days progressed and she showed her around the lakes and rivers of the city. Jones had always liked Srinagar. It was one of the places she and her father crossed through fairly regularly, both to send communications south to Bombay and several times to take a house there for a few months. Miss Merton’s excitement and pleasure in the scenery and her interest in talking to the residents and attempting to learn their language as she spoke with them meant the time went much more quickly than Jones had anticipated.

Likewise, the party seemed perfectly content with her natural choice to dress as she pleased. Carruthers’ young assistants simply accepted her as a male. She didn’t have much to do with them regardless, but it was pleasant not to be looked at with askance as she had feared when she had seen Miss Merton’s face on the road outside Srinagar. Edith had quickly schooled her expression, and her treatment of Jones had not changed. She had invited her to call her by her first name that evening and that seemed a mark of confidence in their budding friendship. Neither had Carruthers and Merton spoken to her with any caution or disapproval and their example had led to the rest of their party treating her as she wished, which was to essentially ignore her sex and rather pay attention to her thoughts and wishes.

It was very nice to feel that she might have made a friend in Miss Merton. They had been few and far between in her travels with her father, particularly with women, simply because they had been almost constantly in motion and when not in motion, absorbed in the work. She had never had the opportunity before simply to have a friendship that was not also complicated with the bonds of family- as with Dechen, Sonam, Amit and Kishor- or overshadowed by her discomfort at being forced in to female apparel as she had been on her long round trip to England.

Thinking about it now, she had a led a lonely sort of existence based entirely around her father’s obsession with the cause of her mother’s death. And it seemed that Jones might be taking up his mantle. Did she want that? She wasn’t sure. But she was sure that she needed to know what had been driving his obsession. He had been such a rational man. It seemed ridiculous that he had died believing in magic. That he had believed in it all this time and not said a word to her.

Her whole life has changed. Not only did she lose her father; but when he sent her to England ‘to find her roots’ he actually cut her off from her life in the mountains…her source of independence and strength.

She had to re-evaluate her sense of self and the way other people saw her whilst she was in England. And now she’s home, but because the Mertons are following her she may not be able to settle back in to her comfortable old way of doing things where she just toddles along thinking about history and people and plants. She’s gaining friends and a social network. But she may have to give up some of her independence of thought and self-definition as part of that social contract.

I do want to revisit this part of the universe at some point in the future because I do love the characters; but in the meantime there’s also a short story called A Small, Secret Smile that is almost stand-alone if you’re feeling brave, but probably makes more sense if you’ve already read the book.

The Flowers of Time is available in ebook, audio and paperback

"Jones was written perfectly. As a non-binary person I felt seen, and may have shed a tear once or twice"

"I loved Flowers. It's sweet and sexy, but also fascinating and creepy!"

Now in audible.

A determined lady botanist and a non-binary explorer make the long journey over the high Himalayan mountain passes from Kashmir to Little Tibet, collecting flowers and exploring ruins on the way. Will Jones discover the root of the mysterious deaths of her parents? Will she confide in Edie and allow her to help in the quest?

It’s a trip fraught with perils for both of them, not least those of the heart.

A stand-alone f/enby romance set in the Lost in Time universe, in the Himalayas in 1780. About 50,000 words.

Buy here

#AmReading

#AmReading, Ally is reading.

This week, two gay mystery romances (one in audio) and an absorbing fictionalisation of the story of the first Black women officers in the US army in WW2.

Prodigal by T. A. Moore

Cover, Prodigal by T. A. Moore.

A satisfying story about a boy who disappeared fifteen years ago. Morgan can’t remember anything before he was eight and his memories of being passed from pillar to post in foster care are really messed up. Is he Sammy Calloway? Boyd was Sammy’s best friend and he doesn’t know either.

There’s angst, vulnerability and pushing people you’re falling in love with away before they can hurt you. There’s a rich backstory and cast of secondary characters and I like how some of the sub plots are left to spin themselves out in your head…you’ve got enough clues to work out what’s going on, but it’s not spoon fed to you. I recommend.

Sisters in Arms by Kaia Alderson

Cover, Sisters in Arms, Kaia Alterson

The  story of the first Black women officers in the US army in WW2 through a fictionalised lens. An utterly absorbing story from the creation of the first Black unit in the WAAC, through recruitment, training and deployment to serving in France.

The women faced racism and sexism at every stage and came out triumphant. This book left me smiling– the two main characters are skilfully woven in among the historical figures of the 6888th Central Postal Directory Battalion and are sympathetic, flawed and very real. Just up my historical street and a joy to read–the writing is beautiful. Plus there’s a list of source material at the back which delighted my inner historical nerd.

P. S.  I Spook You by S. E. Harmon (audio)

Cover, P.S. I Spook You by S. E. Harmon

This is already a comfort re-read for me and the audio lived up to my expectations.  If you like your detectives with a side-order of sass and talking to dead people, this is definitely worthwhile, however you read it.

The narrator, Noah Michael Levine, hit the same note for the characters that I had given them in my head and I was able to go along for the ride. I often find I pick up details in the audio that I miss reading on the page and this was the case here…description of surroundings and what people are wearing that add depth and colour to the plot that I sometimes don’t absorb, as I read fast. I’m looking forward to listening to the other two in the trilogy.

That’s the lot for this time!

Holly Day: The Bear Claw

Hello, Ally’s readers *waves* Thank you, Ally, for letting me drop by. I don’t know if you know this, but both Ally and I get up at the crack of dawn to write. We meet up with Nell Iris, and sometimes J.M. Snyder joins us as well. We chat, and we write.

When I asked Nell if I could drop by her blog and talk about The Bear Claw, Ally asked why I wasn’t coming to her. It was with trembling hands and a pounding heart (not really 😂) I had to admit the truth – I’ve written a sweaty alpha story. The kind Ally hates LOL, and to ask to come to her blog felt wrong. (Ally interjects: HARSH! 🤣 )

Ally, being the lovely person she is, said I could come anyway, so here I am, polluting this site’s wholesome content with an obnoxious alpha werewolf (sorry) 🤣 (Ally interjects: HONESTLY OFELIA, IT’S FINE! FOR GOODNESS SAKE, JUST TELL US ABOUT THE STORY! 🤣 )

I wrote this story to celebrate Be an Angel Day – there are no angels in it, just a stupid alpha who thinks he’s acting like one even though he’s not.

The Bear Claw is an alternative universe story. Everything is the same as the world we’re used to, except people don’t have mobile phones, shifters and psychics and other creatures exists, and all supernatural beings are either dominant or submissive – it’s not a BDMS story. And we have mates. Every person has a small number of potential mates, but they can’t tell until they touch.

Shiro, one of the main characters, owns a bakery and has the ability to put emotions into baked goods. He has most people thinking he’s a dominant, but he’s not.

Pitch is on the hunt for a mate, but he won’t settle for anything but a true mate, and once he figures out Shiro isn’t who he first believed he was, he can’t get him out of his mind.

Shiro was a sub. Only a sub would ever allow his gaze to fall to the floor, and it had been on the floor-briefly, but there.

Excerpt from The Bear Claw

Fifteen minutes later, Pitch winced as the sharp August sun pierced his eyes. “Oh, bollocks.”

Lyra huffed. “Coffee, this way.” She yanked him along. “I can smell it.”

Pitch pulled in a breath, but he couldn’t scent anything, and since he had a better sense of smell than Lyra, she was lying. They rounded the corner, and the bakery came into view as did a sign with a crossed-over wolf. Pitched slowed. “What the feck?” He gestured at the sign; he hated those signs. He was a dominant, why be in areas where he wasn’t allowed to use his power?

“Come on. It’s right there.” She gestured at the bakery. “You won’t die from stepping outside of Shifterville for half an hour.” She handed him a pair of gloves which he accepted with a low growl.

He read the sign. The Bear Claw. Pitch refrained from rolling his eyes. “A bear establishment?”

Lyra grinned at his rough voice. “Bernard told me about it.”

Bernard? “Who?”

“The doorman.”

Right, Bernard. “So, it’ll be packed with bears?” He glanced in through the window and blew out a breath of relief. It wasn’t packed at all.

“I think his cousin or something owns it.” She pushed open the door and the scent of vanilla and coffee swirled around them.

“Ms. Murray.” Bernard grinned at them from behind a paper. He looked worse than Pitch felt.

“Oh, hi, Bernard.” Lyra walked over and sat by his table. Pitch reluctantly followed.

“Bad night, man?” Pitch didn’t mind Bernard too much. He was less dominant than Pitch, which made things easier.

Bernard shrugged. “Schedule got a bit messed up, so I haven’t been in bed yet.”

Pitch nodded. He didn’t care. He’d only asked to be polite which was more than he normally bothered with, but Lyra had developed a soft spot for the bear. Not a romantic one, two doms never had romantic relationships with each other. It didn’t work. Both expected—demanded—to be obeyed. Not always with true mates, then there was a stronger bond and more of a balance. The dominant was still dominant, and the submissive still submissive, but there was more give and take, a deeper trust, and Pitch wanted that. He’d seen true mates. They’d die for each other, they sacrificed for each other, and they worked more as a team than mates who weren’t true mates.

“Hello.” A dark-haired man appeared by their table. Pitch studied him. There was something… He wanted to say he recognized him, but… Had the man been a sub, he’d assumed he’d fucked him at some point, but this man held his head high, his stance relaxed.

He didn’t meet Pitch’s eyes, but many doms had a hard time holding his gaze. He wanted to send out a trickle of power to test the man out, but they were in a fecking human district. He didn’t believe anything would happen if he did, but he wasn’t in the mood to talk to the human police.

“Hi.” Lyra’s voice wormed itself into his mind. “We’d like some coffee, please.”

“Black.” Pitch regarded the man, waited for him to at least glance at him now when he’d spoken, but he didn’t. He had black hair, dark eyes, and his skin was white, but not the same kind of white as his was. Mixed race. Pitch didn’t care—he fucked every color and every shape, no discrimination—but he guessed one of the man’s parents were from Japan or Taiwan or something.

He pulled in a breath, tried to catch the man’s bear scent, but he couldn’t separate it from Bernard’s.

“You want something, Bernard?” The man’s voice wasn’t soft and it wasn’t weak, but it lacked… something.

“I’ve drunk enough coffee to give me heartburn. You don’t have energy drinks, do you?” Bernard gave the man a soft smile and it made Pitch want to snarl at him. Strange. He cracked his neck and drummed his thumb against his thigh.

“I’ll get you something.”

The man hurried off and Pitch watched his every move. “That’s your cousin?”

They looked nothing alike, but cousins didn’t have to.

“Oh no. Shiro is a fortune cookie—”

Pitch snorted. He hadn’t taken Bernard for a racist.

Bernard stilled. “Not like that. He’s my cousin’s mate.”

Pitch wanted to snarl. His cousin’s mate? The man couldn’t be mated. Shiro. Everything inside Pitch objected to Shiro having a mate.

The Bear Claw

Cover, The Bear Claw

In a world where all supernatural beings are either dominant or submissive, Shiro Amano doesn’t have many choices. As a submissive, any dominant walking into his bakery can order him around. He hates it. All he wants is to live his life in peace and bake pastries he can spike with emotions far away from obnoxious alphas.

Pitch Rhys wants a mate, but he won’t settle for anything but a true mate. As a powerful wolf shifter, he has subs flocking around him, but his true mate is hiding in the kitchen of a bakery and refuses to see him. He can order him to, of course, but since he threatened Pitch with a knife when he allowed his power to leak, he doesn’t think it’s the way to go. Instead, he’s settling to see how many pastries and cups of coffee he can consume in a day.

Two years ago, Shiro escaped an abusive relationship, and he’s not looking for a new one, but when word gets out Shiro is an unmated sub, dominants are invading the bakery. Pitch does his best to scare them off so he can woo Shiro at his own pace, but things escalate too fast. Will Pitch be able to get Shiro to trust him before it’s too late? Can he convince him he wants nothing more than to make him happy and keep him safe?

Buy links:

 Gay Paranormal Romance: 46,763 words

JMS Books :: Amazon :: books2read.com/TheBearClaw

About Holly

According to Holly Day, no day should go by uncelebrated and all of them deserve a story. If she’ll have the time to write them remains to be seen. She lives in rural Sweden with a husband, four children, more pets than most, and wouldn’t last a day without coffee.

Holly gets up at the crack of dawn most days of the week to write gay romance stories. She believes in equality in fiction and in real life. Diversity matters. Representation matters. Visibility matters. We can change the world one story at the time.

Connect with Holly on social media:

Website :: Facebook :: Twitter :: Pinterest :: BookBub :: Goodreads :: Instagram

Women doctors in the late nineteenth century

A bit about... Women Doctors in the Late 19th Century

Sylvia Marks qualified as a doctor in 1910, which makes her a) a bit of a prodigy because I messed up my timeline and b) someone who really knew what she wanted and went for it against all sorts of prejudice.

I’ve put a shed-load of wiki links in this, because a blog post is stonkingly inadequate to cover it all; this is a very brief summary of the actions of a load of very able, determined and amazing people. For actual proper references see at the bottom of the wiki pages, they’re pretty well annotated.

Sylvia Marks’ character was originally based on stories my grandmother used to tell about a local doctor-friend of her mother’s, who’d come and visit and sit on the kitchen table with her skirts hitched up and smoke whilst they chatted. However, once I decided she needed her own book, I needed more than just that to base her on–so I went reading.

The first woman doctor in England was Elizabeth Garrett-Anderson, who along with Sophia Jex-Blake, the first women doctor in Scotland, fought long and hard for the privilege. Garrett-Anderson exploited loopholes in the articles of the Society of Apothecaries and the British Medical Association that were immediately sewn up for a couple of decades once she’d passed through and were therefore closed to Jex-Blake.

Initially getting the education was difficult and the women paid for private tuition and had to wheedle their way into practical and observation sessions with various levels of success. There was a lot of resistance–all the usual stupid stuff about women’s poor little brains overheating with facts, being sensitive creatures who should be protected from icky medical nastiness and the like. As time went on, however, the tide gradually began to turn.

Across the UK there was a growing pressure for women to be able to formally access university education. Jex-Blake eventually became one of the Edinburgh Seven, the first women to ever be admitted to university courses in the United Kingdom in 1869. However, although the Edinburgh Seven joined the university as undergraduates they were not allowed to qualify as doctors. They scattered across Europe and most qualified in either Paris and Berne to get their M. Ds..

Finally, in 1876 new legislation meant that examining bodies were able (but not forced) to consider women medical candidates and eventually, in 1877, legislation was finally passed to enable women across the UK to be awarded degrees.

After qualifying through her loop-hole, Garrett-Anderson founded The London School of Medicine for Women (1874), along with Jex-Blake and Elizabeth Blackwell, the first woman in the USA to qualify as a doctor. Jex-Blake also set up The Edinburgh School of Medicine for Women (1886). It sounds as if she wasn’t a people-person–she fell out with some of her students and one of them, Elsie Inglis, left her school and founded the Edinburgh College of Medicine for Women (1889).

These handful of women who pushed and pushed through the patriarchal mid-nineteenth century education structures forced a path for other women to follow. They were proactive in lifting up their peers and those that came behind them. However, despite all this, women doctors were pretty much confined to treating women and children and not accepted in general hospital practice. Many of them were active women’s suffragists and when war broke out in Europe in 1914 they saw it as an opportunity to show that women could serve and be useful alongside men.

Inglis, who sounds like a truly amazing person, founded the Scottish Womens Hospitals for Foreign Service in 1914, where I made Sylvia do her war-work. Louisa Garrett-Anderson initially went to Europe to set up a hospital in Paris, which impressed the military authorities so much she was invited to come back to London and set up the Endell Street Military Hospital along with her partner Flora Murray. Sylvia is a sort of composite of these amazing people–not forgetting Dr Frances Ivens, who commanded the hospital at Royaumont.

The tenacity, the dedication to both professional and personal development and the willingness to engage in public life to lift other women up is very evident when you read about all these people. It must have been a truly exhausting struggle for them. I am really pleased to be able to bring them to people’s notice again a century and more later, even in a terribly fictionalised way.

Sylvia Marks character card

Release Party Roundup!

No party is complete without a dissection of who was there, what they were wearing, who did what, and with whom. All these lovely authors dropped in to Lester Towers at the weekend and they are all very cool, nice people who write fantastic books. Here’s a round-up of their latest releases so you can check them out easily.

Thank you so much to everyone, readers and authors, who came along. It was my first facebook party and I had terrible nerves…you all made it good fun and I actually enjoyed myself, so I can see myself doing it again at some point!

The Fog of War Release Party
The Best Corpse for the Job, Charlie Cochrane
The Best Corpse for the Job, Charlie Cochrane
Comes a Horseman by Ann Barwell
Comes a Horseman,
Ann Barwell
Soul Eater, Ofelia Grand
Soul Eater,
Ofelia Grand
There Will be Aliens, Holly Day
There Will be Aliens,
Holly Day
The Meet Cute Chronicles Box Set, Nell Iris
The Meet-Cute Chronicles, Nell Iris
When Are You? by Addison Albright
When Are You?
Addison Albright
More Than This, Alexa Milne
More Than This,
Alexa Milne
Stage Struck, Ellie Thomas
Stage Struck,
Ellie Thomas
Trench Warfare, Fiona Glass
Trench Warfare,
Fiona Glass
Magician, K. L. Noone
Magician,
K. L. Noone
A Poison Apple, C. L. Cleppit
A Poison Apple,
C. H. Cleppit
The Vampire Guard, Elizabeth Noble
Codename Jackrabbit,
Elizabeth Noble
Trapped by Greed, Kaje Harper
Trapped by Greed,
Kaje Harper
Club 669, Amy Spector
Club 669,
Amy Spector
Dances Long Forgotten, Ruby Moone
Dances Long Forgotten, Ruby Moone

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