mmromance – Page 8 – A. L. Lester

Jackson Marsh: Researching and Portraying a Deaf Character in Victorian Fiction

This week we welcome Jackson Marsh to talk about his lead character in the Larkspur Mysteries. Welcome, Jackson! Take it away…

Hi, I’m Jackson Marsh, author of the 11-part Clearwater Mystery series set between the years 1888 and 1890. I am now writing the follow-on series, the Larkspur Mysteries, and one of my main characters is deaf. I’m here to tell you why I chose to write a deaf lead character, what research I did to help create him, and how I write him into the romantic, MM mysteries.

Why Write a Lead Character who is Deaf?

My interest in the deaf world began several years ago when I worked as the composer for a deaf/hearing children’s theatre company. Recently, I was watching ‘The Amazing Race’ and found myself fascinated by the team of Luke Adams and his mother, Marj O’Donnell. Seeing Luke, who is deaf, compete in the race and work his way through triumphs and frustrations is what (and who) gave me the idea to create Joe Tanner, my 19-year-old, deaf-from-birth character in the Larkspur Series. I’ve since written to Luke and thanked him for his inspiration—it was the first time I had ever written fan mail.

Most stories I had read that featured a deaf character had him/her portrayed as a victim. Someone to be helped by others, someone to be pitied, and, particularly in historical fiction, someone who was stupid. My mission was to reverse those misconceptions, and create a young, gay, deaf man who would not only be heroic but would also become educated. Joe’s story starts with an abusive father, takes him to seven years in a workhouse, and on to become one of the Clearwater men at the Larkspur Academy. It is a story of survival through MM love.

What Research was Involved?

For Joe’s initial story, ‘Guardians of the Poor’, I had two main areas to research. Firstly, and easiest, was the history of the Hackney Workhouse in London, and life in workhouses in the late 19^th century. Books, online research, the National Newspaper Archives… I was able to use my usual resources, as well as my memory, as I had visited the actual buildings many years ago when I lived nearby.

Secondly, more challenging but infinitely more practical, was learning sign language. I researched the history of British Sign Language (BSL) as best as I could and used that to inform Joe’s wider world. Joe is a deaf character who speaks, but because he’s never heard words, he can only imitate lip movements, and that’s why people think he is, in Victorian wordage, an imbecile. However, he signs, and so that I could understand what that entails, I took a course in basic BSL. My husband joined me, and now we can communicate in sign if we choose to. It’s great fun talking about people without them knowing what you’re signing. Seriously, though, it gave me a massive insight into how to write Joe’s thought process.

How do I Write a Deaf Character?

It’s not only Joe’s thought process that I needed to consider when writing ‘Guardians of the Poor’ and the books that follow. Joe is the hero in book two of the series, ‘Keepers of the Past’, and as half of the narrative is from his point of view, I had to be in his head for much of the time. Sign language is constructed differently to spoken languages, and if I wrote purely as Joe would have thought and signed, it would be hard to read. For example, his dialogue would be, ‘You me go London when? Before me London rubbish, now, so-so.’ (When are we going to London? I used to hate the place, but now, it’s alright.)

Another consideration was understanding how Joe would have thought. When hearing people think or read, we hear the words in our head, but what if you’ve never heard words? What then? Joe, like many deaf-from-birth people, thinks visually. Again, I had to cheat to a certain extent, because otherwise the text would be impossible to read. It would be a jumble of memories and images that would only make sense to Joe.

More importantly, behaviour was a consideration, and for that, I remembered Luke’s frustrations on The Amazing Race, his, to us, over reactions, his use of body language for emphasis, other people’s reactions, and his heroism through daily adversity. All those trains have informed the character of Joe Tanner.

One day, I’d love to speak, sorry, sign with Luke, and give him a copy of the books, as a thank you for the inspiration. He’s become a bit of a hero of mine, and Joe can be yours if you follow the Larkspur Mystery Series.

The Larkspur Mysteries : The Clearwater Mysteries

Guardians of the Poor: The Larkspur Mysteries Book 1

“The greatest gift one man may give another is his trust.”
Barbary Fleet, 1890.

Standing stones, messages written in symbols, and the language of the deaf. It falls to Lord Clearwater to unlock the mystery of Dalston Blaze and his deaf friend, Joe Tanner, two young men arrested for committing ‘unnatural offences’ at the Hackney workhouse.

Dalston hopes for a prison sentence. It’s the only way to save his life. Instead, he is bailed to the Larkspur Academy on Lord Clearwater’s Cornish estate, where there is only one rule: honesty above all else. For Dalston, this means confronting his past, learning to trust, and admitting his secrets. Joe is the key, but Joe is missing, and his location is locked deep inside a memory seen in sign language, and clouded by eighteen years of workhouse life.

If Dalston remains silent, the immoral workhouse master and his sadistic schoolteacher will continue to inflict pain and suffering on all inmates of the Hackney workhouse. If he tells the truth, he and Joe will die.

The Guardians of the Poor is a combination of mystery, adventure and male romance, set in 1890. It draws on first-hand accounts of workhouse life at the time, and is the first of a new series of mysteries set in the Clearwater world.

The Larkspur Mysteries

Beginning in 1890, The Larkspur Mysteries follow on from The Clearwater Mysteries series of 11 novels. It’s not necessary to have read the Clearwater books before you embark on the Larkspur series. However, if you enjoy mystery, romance, adventure and a mix of historical fact and fiction, then begin the journey with ‘Deviant Desire.’ (Or the non-mystery prequel, ‘Banyak & Fecks.’)

Lord Clearwater has created a unique academy for disadvantaged young men. The Larkspur Academy is, ‘A non-academic institution with the aim to provide deserving men the opportunity to expand talent, horizons and knowledge for the betterment of the underprivileged and general society.’ It’s not a school. There are no lessons, no teachers, no schoolboys and no rules. The series exists in the established Clearwater world of the late 1800’s where homosexuality is a crime everywhere but on Clearwater’s country estate in Cornwall.

The series is ongoing. Each story involves male bonding, bromance, friendship and love. Mystery, adventure and a little comedy play their parts, and every story is inspired by true events from the past.

Buy The Guardians of the Poor

About Jackson

Jackson Marsh was born in 2017 as the pen name for James Collins so I could publish my new gay fiction independently from my other writing work.

I was born on the south coast of England during a blizzard in 1963, but now like to warm thing up with MM romance novels, gay mysteries and some occasional erotica. In 2007 I was awarded an EGPA award for my erotic short stories, and I have won three Best Screenplay awards for my film scripts. I am a diverse writer with thrillers, comedies and horror stories under my James belt, and now romance and mystery under my Jackson belt.

Although I spend most of my time researching and writing, I do have other interests. It’s a strange collection of playing the piano, building classic horror model kits and, when I can, travel. Past interests, which I still follow but no longer pursue so much, include rock climbing, musical theatre and genealogy. That’s probably why my books tend to involve characters who are musicians, writers, mystery-solvers and rock climbers; there’s a bit of me in each one of them.

I live on a Greek island with my husband, and we have been here since 2002.

You can keep up to date with my monthly newsletter and be the first to know about my publications. The isn’t one of those newsletters that simply advertise other people’s books for sale, it’s more personal than that, and you can unsubscribe anytime.

Jackson Marsh Amazon : Jackson Marsh website : Jackson Marsh Facebook

Interview: Debut author R. G. Hendrickson

This week we welcome debut author R. G. Hendrickson to the blog! Welcome, Richard! Thanks so much for visiting!

Thank you, Ally, for giving a newbie author like me an interview on your blog. It’s a thrill, and I really appreciate it.

Tell me a little bit about your most recent release. What gave you the idea for it?

Funny you should ask. I was just talking about this with an old friend.

When I told him about the book, he wrinkled his nose and said, “Eww. Why cavemen?” I get some of the frankest critiques from my friends, which is fine. I’ve known him since high school, a long time before I started writing. If he doesn’t like my book, I guess I’ll probably still like him anyway.

So, why cavemen? Perhaps not everyone’s cup of tea, I understand this, but MM romance must have existed in some fashion during the Stone Age. I thought it might be interesting to explore. Though different, it isn’t so far-fetched, really. I mean, after all, we have shifters, vampires, and Mpreg.

By the way, the main character in this story might be viewed as a reverse-vampire. His longevity comes from the unusual stem cells in his blood, and a doctor discovers that an infusion of these cells cures people and makes them young. This of course has serious implications for the Earth.

Let’s set aside the speculative fiction. I found that the Stone Age made a delightful setting for MM romance. It accommodated some favorite tropes, like fake dating and hurt/comfort. In addition, there’s a developing romance in the present, which might qualify as an age gap trope, though the older character appears much younger than his years.

So, why not a caveman? At the end of the day, it’s just a book and might be fun. If you happen to take a chance on reading it, please let me know what you think. Even if you don’t like it, I’m still your friend, like I’m still friends with my old high school buddy.

What started you writing?

It’s a strange compulsion. I’ve had it since childhood and only recently gave in, apart from dabbling a little over the years. Even when I wasn’t writing, there were always stories rattling around in my head. When I retired a little early and had some time on my hands, I found myself putting things on paper. It felt good getting it off my mind, refreshing.

I did study dramatic literature and script writing as an undergraduate, but I set aside playwriting in the interest of making a living. In the meantime, I came to like reading more than theatre or movies. I preferred reading novels and found that I enjoyed writing them, so far three, two of them published.

When I started the first book, I realized that I needed to learn the craft. There’s a big difference between a story floating around in my head and a novel on paper. So, I joined some writer groups, read excerpts, and got feedback. I also read a lot of novels and some books about writing, or I listened to recorded presentations.

With practice, I think I’m becoming a better storyteller. My goal next time is to write a book that my old high school friend will want to read. That, of course, might never happen, but I’m having fun trying.

Call Me Methuselah

Since humanity’s first steps in the Stone Age, Methuselah has harbored an ancient secret. Cursed by the shaman to witness the end of days, he searches in vain for a home, place to place, clan to clan, yearning to belong. First in prehistoric Africa and lately disillusioned with love for a hundred years in the New World, he learns all too well to guard his heart and hide his story. That changes when a car crash lands him in the hospital with a fractured skull. Doctors discover strange stem cells in his blood, promising cures and a fountain of youth. Methuselah faces choices of life and death.

Forced on the run again, he comforts himself by reliving a happier time, when he and Arrow, his first love, raft across the paleo-lake Makgadikgadi, which rested in those days on the vast Kalahari. In their age-old journey, the cavemen lovers find a place to call home and learn what it means to belong.

While Arrow’s enlightened sensibilities get the two of them in trouble and challenge Methuselah’s judgment, their adventures in an untamed world bring them together. When Methuselah’s enduring youth reveals itself through the passing seasons, he and Arrow bravely face a dire reality.

From the distant past that lives inside Methuselah, Arrow’s spirit reaches out, providing guidance for our threatened times. He gives Methuselah the strength to do the right thing and the courage to live his true self in the modern world. Arrow’s memory opens Methuselah’s heart and renews for him a hope of redemption in the arms of a caring man today. If only Methuselah permits himself to love once more.

Scroll on down for an excerpt!

Buy Call Me Methuselah : Add on Goodreads

Excerpt from Call Me Methuselah

No blood nor gore in sight, I worried that the crocodile had eaten him already, tossed him in the air, and swallowed him whole. Relieved that I didn’t have to fight that monster, I dived down again near the bottom, where the crocodile might not follow me. Its big tail wagged above my head and passed me by.
As I turned to swim away, I found the drowned man sinking. All in one piece, he must have submerged before the crocodile arrived. His eyes were blank, and his many skinny braids floated and twisted like snakes around his head.
No time to waste, I grabbed his hair and pulled him along with me. His husky body nearly weightless underwater, I held on with one hand. My legs and the free arm enough for swimming, I towed him toward a safer shore, near the ledge from where I’d first spotted him that morning.
When I could hold my breath no longer, I surfaced and looked for the croc. No sign of it, maybe it returned to the beach. They didn’t like it here by this cliff with its deep water and jagged rocks. I slipped through the outcrops, as I’d done since a boy.
Losing my loincloth along the way, I struggled to shore with the stranger in tow. By his armpits, I dragged him out of the waves to dry gravel and avoided his eyes. They were open, unblinking, and vacant.
With both my hands, I felt his neck for signs of life, warm but motionless. His mouth was full of water, which trickled out. He was dead.
Remembering him gives me pause. Lately, I’ve pondered my own mortality. Hence, this memoir, I’m not ready.
More the reason for starting in a happier time, the beginning, long ago on that lake with my first love.
We were so much alike then, young and invincible. Only for me, invincibility was no youthful fantasy.
I’ve never stopped missing him. Not to complain, that wouldn’t be fair. It wasn’t me who had to die, and even while grieving, there’s joy in life.
Enough said. On with the story.
The dead man’s eyes bewildered me. I couldn’t bear to look at them or make myself look away. Though we were strangers, we’d faced a monster crocodile together and escaped it. Few friends could say that. As tears blurred my vision, I covered his face with my hands and brushed his eyelids closed.
Then I remembered the words of my father. A boy had drowned. His brother pushed the water out of him, and the boy came back.
Worth a try with this man, I pressed hard on his tight stomach, just below the ribs, and water sprayed from his mouth. Worried I’d hurt him, I checked his face for signs of pain. He showed no expression but peace, a haunting beauty, and over his lips more water flowed.
When I pressed again, he twitched. His eyes opened wide, and when he rolled on his side, lake water spewed out his mouth. Then, to my considerable relief, he coughed and took a deep loud breath. We gazed at each other in the eye and lingered there.
No, he doesn’t die that day, and I get to meet him after all. He’ll be the love of my life. I know this now, a long time later …

Buy Call Me Methuselah : Add on Goodreads

About R.G. Hendrickson

R.G. Hendrickson loves words for the feelings they evoke. Though relatively new to writing, he draws on experience from a long life and strong imagination.

In his MM romance, you’ll find quirky characters and fantasy/science fiction subplots.

If you take a chance on his book, he would love to hear your thoughts about it, whatever they are. He also enjoys receiving critiques from the writers group that he attends weekly online from his home in Las Vegas.

Follow R. G. Hendrickson on Goodreads

#Am Reading

This week a sweet, sapphic holiday romance set in Victorian Scotland by Meg Mardell, and two gay romances… Astounding! by Kim Fielding, and the audio of Shattered Glass by Dani Alexander.

A Highland Hogmanay by Meg Mardell

I really enjoyed this sweet sapphic novella. It’s a Victorian Christmas delight, a seasonal hug with just a nip of whisky. The two main characters are Sharda, an heiress who is just beginning to realise she is her own person and doesn’t have to run around after her terrible relatives; and Finella, a woman who’s taken over her father’s job as the manager of a Scottish estate. The contrast between them is very marked at the beginning of the story. Sharda has never had any agency and has been content to drift along trapped in the web her family have woven around her in their hopes of getting access to her fortune. Finella has had entirely too much put upon her by her scapegrace employer and is constantly weighted down with the responsibility of looking after the castle, farms and people in her care.

Initially this is a case of mistaken identity; but the two women move through that to cement first a friendship and then a romance. I really liked both of them and wanted them to sort their misunderstanding out. They are well drawn, well rounded characters and the secondary characters are charming, particularly Finella’s brothers! The period detail is nicely researched and held up well for me. I felt there was enough dialect speech to give a flavour of the period and the location, but not so much it overwhelmed the pace of the story. Recommend for a comforting holiday read! (Also the cover! It’s gorgeous!)

Astounding! by Kim Fielding

This is an homage to the golden age of science fiction magazines as well as a very satisfying, sweet love story. I don’t think I’ve ever read anything by Kim Fielding I haven’t loved, in particular her science-fiction and paranormal stories. This is no exception. The golden age of the science fiction magazines is over and Astounding! is dying. Carter, its founding editor, is a purposeless, broke and depressed borderline alcoholic. He writes a snippy rejection letter to a writer who persists in sending him terrible, terrible submissions and then in a fit of remorse drives to his house to apologise. The guy, John, is a) gorgeous and b) bonkers, as he claims to be an alien wanting to send a message via Astounding! to his people to come and take him home. They’re both lonely and they quickly make a connection despite Carter’s reservations. It’s a really satisfying read with the well-rounded, complex characters you’d expect from this author. There’s also a road-trip with Carter’s super-star-writer friend (who I pictured as a cross between George R. R. Martin and Arthur C. Clarke) and his husband, which is a delight. Recommend!

Shattered Glass by Dani Alexander (audio)

This is another favorite I suddenly realised I could get the audio for with Whispersync. And again, one of those stories that definitely allowed me to pick up further detail and depth in the audio. Contemporary USA. Austin Glass is a rich boy playing at being a Detective. He’s very good at it and wants to segue into the FBI. He’s got a society marriage lined up, he tumbles through life without much touching him. The reason for that is…revealed as the story goes on. He finds himself unexpectedly attracted to a male witness/suspect in a people trafficking ring. This is not something he’s prepared for and once that thread gets pulled, all sorts of things in his life begin to unravel. That’s the main focus of the story, but the thriller plot is very respectable and kept me interested, with another two books clearly being set up in this one. These haven’t happened yet, but I still check occasionally to see whether they have because this one is so good. The narration is great. Adds depth and clarity to the story and makes it really enjoyable.

That’s the lot for this time!

Holly Day: How to Soothe a Dragon

This week my friend Ofelia is here in her persona as Holly Day to talk about her new release How to Soothe a Dragon and explain that it’s actually about aliens...take it away, Holly!

Hello! Thank you, Ally, for letting me crash the blog. (You’re most welcome!) I’ve written a story titled How to Soothe a Dragon. I was visiting Nell Iris yesterday where I talked about how this story turned into something completely different from what it was supposed to be.

I believed I was writing sci-fi – I have aliens! – but this is a fated mates dragon shifter story. (I mean, this could happen to anyone! – Ed.)

It has all the components of a paranormal romance story plus a badass alien race that has taken over Earth. The aliens are from the planet Pacuria, and they’re big and burly but mostly human-looking.

Pacurians are working all the top positions in society, leaving only minimum wage jobs for humans, and they can control minds. Most humans are lulled into a false sense of security and believe the Pacurian race has taken control to help them. Derek sees them for what they are, though. He’s not affected by their mind control, but he’s as powerless as every other human.

It has the premise of being a dark story, but it isn’t, not really. All Pacurians are dressed in uniforms similar to those The Beatles wear on the Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band cover, and they’re allergic to lemons.

Yup, lemons.

Derek has heard about Pacurians being allergic to lemons, but he doesn’t believe it. There are still lemons to be bought in the shops, and he doesn’t believe there would be if the rumours were true.

It isn’t until he finds a button in his apartment that doesn’t belong to him – oh, I didn’t say I wrote it to celebrate National Button Day, did I? I wrote How to Soothe a Dragon for National Button Day, which is on November 16, so buttons play an important part in it 😆

Derek comes home one day and finds a button in his apartment from one of those Sgt. Pepper uniforms. A black button and his neighbour Ocren wears a black uniform. Derek has had enough. For years, Ocren has been chasing him up the stairs in the apartment building where they both live, but finding Ocren’s button on his living room floor is the last straw. He cuts a lemon in half and goes to confront him.

"You should keep a bottle of lemon juice on you."
Derek stared at her before laughing. "What?"
Casey leaned closer, glancing at Ziril, before whispering, "They're allergic to lemons."
Derek chuckled and took a swig of the beer.
"They're not. It's a myth. If they were, there wouldn't have been any lemons left on Earth."
Available now: How to Soothe a Dragon by Holly Day

Excerpt

He grabbed a lemon, cut it in half, and opened his window. If Casey was wrong about the lemons, Ocren would get a good laugh, and then he’d kill Derek, but this had to end.
His legs were unsteady as he walked down the grid stair to Ocren’s apartment. With a deep breath, he stopped at the landing outside his living room window and squeezed the lemon so the juice trickled through his fingers.
Ocren was there. His green eyes bore into Derek, his dark skin was duller than he’d ever seen it, and the little ridges the Pacurians had where humans had eyebrows stood out like horns. They were similar to humans—lips, nose, the shape of their eyes, everything was the same. But they were bigger, and they had those little horns almost as lizards did. Ocren had one on each cheekbone too—most of the others didn’t.
And the eye color was wrong. Pacurians had different eye colors, as humans had, but they were more intense. And at times they glowed.
Ocren’s glowed a vivid green.
Derek held up a lemon, waiting for Ocren to laugh at him—he didn’t.
Seconds went by and neither of them moved. Derek’s heart banged hard in his chest, but he had no idea what he’d do now.
With the glass between them, they continued to stare at each other. The November chill was creeping into Derek’s core.
An eternity went by, and Ocren continued to stare at him. Slowly, he reached for the sash lift and pushed the window up.
“Derek.”
The growly tone made him shiver more. “Stay out of my apartment, fucker.”
Ocren raised his lips like an aggressive dog, showing off piranha teeth identical to those he’d seen at the bar. What the hell was wrong with the world? Had they suddenly been invaded by crazed aliens? Not suddenly—they’d been invading since long before Derek was born, and he’d always known they were far more dangerous than they’d let on, hadn’t he?
He nodded in reply to his inner monologue which had Ocren conceal his teeth with a frown. The color of his eyes grew more intense and pressure built behind Derek’s eyes.
“Hey! Cut it out!” He flung half a lemon at Ocren but missed, and it swished by him into the apartment. Ocren hissed, and Derek wiped at his nose to see if he was bleeding—he wasn’t.
“I’ll report you. I know you’re a cop, and you can threaten me all you want, but I won’t let you get away with this.”
He took a step back and Ocren paled. “No.”
The hoarse word made him pause. It wasn’t like a demand, more like a plea.
“No?” Derek glared at him, and he clearly had a death wish because he continued to speak. “No, you won’t get away with this? Or, no, I shouldn’t report you? I have the right to be here too, you know? I was here before you moved in, and you have no right to harass me.”
Ocren breathed in deep through his nose. “Derek.” His eyes flashed with the intense green again, and Derek prepared for the pressure to build behind his eyes, but it never came.
“Yes?” He looked away, which most likely was a mistake, but he feared it would be easier for Ocren to control his mind if he maintained eye contact.
“Derek.”
“Yes, dammit! What is it?” He glared at the buttons on Ocren’s uniform—none missing. It didn’t mean anything. He could’ve changed since he’d been there.
“Derek.” This time Ocren whispered his name. Derek frowned at him. The eyes were a soft green now, lacking the intense glow.
“What, Ocren? I’m not a mind reader, I don’t know what you’re trying to say by repeating my name over and over again.”
Viper green flashed in his eyes, and he reached out through the window.
“No! Stay!”
Ocren stilled but narrowed his eyes.
Derek’s heart beat so fast he feared it would stop from exhaustion. “Can’t you be normal for a few minutes?” He was taken aback by the desperation in his voice. “Stay inside and don’t try to grab me. Why are you always trying to grab me?”
Those horned almost-eyebrows pushed down over Ocren’s eyes. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know? You chase me up the stairs, you abuse my door, you break into my apartment, and you don’t know why?”
Ocren’s eyes flashed green. “I’ve never been in your apartment.”
“Your button was on my floor.”
“No.”
Derek huffed. “Look man, your button was on my floor. I might only be a human, but I’m not stupid.” He took a deep breath. “Okay, I’m a bit stupid, but I’ve kept an eye on your Sergeant Pepper fetish, and this is your button.”
Ocren blinked. “Pepper? I don’t know any Sergeant named Pepper, and I have no fetish… I don’t think.”
Derek snorted. “Right.” He took a step back, putting one foot on the first step of the stairs. “I don’t know what you’re up to, but please stop. The piranha act is getting old.” He walked up another step. “The lemons don’t work, do they?”
“Lemons?”
“You’re not… allergic to lemons.”
The expression, Derek didn’t know if it was a smile, a flash of now mostly human-looking teeth, or a wince. “We’re not supposed to talk about lemons.”
“What?” A small chuckle escaped. He was standing on the fire escape, talking about lemons with a Pacurian who had piranha teeth one moment and normal teeth the next.
His life truly had gone to shit.

How to Soothe a Dragon

Derek Herman is living a nightmare. Long before he was born, the planet was taken over by a mind-controlling alien race, and everyone is affected except for him. Derek does his best not to draw attention to himself, but it’s not going well.

Ocren Starburst is obsessed with his human neighbor. Every time he sees Derek, he wants nothing more than to grab him, hold him, and keep him forever. And four years of chasing him up the stairs in their apartment building has resulted in Derek refusing to even acknowledge his existence. That is, until Derek accuses Ocren of breaking into his apartment.

Derek found a button on his living room floor, the same kind of button Ocren wears on his police uniform. And while Ocren hasn’t broken in, he knows the button means someone has. Ocren’s race has kept their shape-shifting abilities secret for years, but now his other form wants out to slaughter everyone that dares to get too close to Derek. And staying in control proves hard when threats toward Derek increase.

Will they be able to keep Derek safe without Ocren losing control of his dragon self?

JMS Books :: Amazon :: Universal Buy Link

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.

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

Trans people in history

This morning I want to talk a little bit about trans people in history. Transgender is a word that can only be traced back to 1974, but that didn’t mean trans people didn’t exist before that date! Walter, one of the main characters in The Quid Pro Quo is transgender—he’s caused me all sorts of plot issues, but has sent me off to do lots of really interesting reading, which I’m delighted to share here!

One of the things that gender studies academics all agree about is that it’s almost impossible to know how people in the past that we now see as trans would have seen themselves. The records are very sparse, often sensationalised and are usually other people’s view of the person rather than their own. Who wanted to put that sort of thing down in writing when it would get you prosecuted or put in a mental hospital? So it’s hard to tell whether past figures were transgender; or whether they were passing as a man or woman in order to access spaces and privilege they would be otherwise denied. This is particularly true of people who were assigned female at birth and lived the bulk of their lives as men.

The most famous of these cases is Dr James Barry, who after his death in the mid-nineteenth century was revealed to be AFAB (assigned female at birth). I won’t write much about him here because this is the article I would write and Rebecca Ortenberg has already done it better than I would. Suffice to say that after he began his medical education at Edinburgh, Barry never presented or referred to himself as female again. He was only discovered to be AFAB after the person laying his body out for burial spoke about him. In recent years he’s been absorbed by the ‘plucky girl breaking the glass ceiling by putting on breeches’ narrative, which I personally feel is wrong.

This article at the British Library about Transgender Identities in the Past is fascinating. It focuses on two people, Eliza Edwards, who on her death in 1833 was discovered to be AMAB. And in 1901, someone we’d now understand to be a trans man who at the age of sixty and after several marriages and a career as a cook on P&O liners was revealed to be AFAB. The newspaper article calls them by a woman’s name. It completely erases the life they lived. The article has audio clips of a 2018 discussion between E-J Scott, curator of the Museum of Transology; Dr Jay Stewart, the chief executive of Gendered Intelligence, and Annie Brown, an activist, artist and GI youth worker. It’s worth your time.

In The Flowers of Time, my story set in the late eighteenth century, Jones the non-binary character eventually decides to present as masculine because it makes their life with Edie easier. They fudge the record, more or less blackmail close family into accepting them and that’s that. However, it’s not unreasonable to suppose that as time went on, communication became quicker and easier and records of births and marriages became more common it became much more difficult to pass. British army records mention Phoebe Hassel, who was discharged in 1817 when she was flogged and discovered to be a man (bottom of page seven, you have to register, but it’s free). We don’t know whether she was a passing woman for financial or social reasons or whether she was what we’d understand today as trans. Her male name is not mentioned. However, she must have passed well enough or had enough support by her peers to have concealed her natal gender for some years.

However, The Quid Pro Quo is set a hundred and fifty years later than Phoebe’s flogging and The Flowers of Time. By the time Walter joined up in 1898, there were medicals for army recruits. This was such a sticking point for me that I bottled it and I honestly tried to write the book with him as cis. However, he just wouldn’t play…he’d been trans in my head as I was writing The Fog of War, right back as far the planning stage of the trilogy. But when I came to write it, I couldn’t make the story work with him as trans because of the army regulations; and I couldn’t make the story work with him as cis because he’s not cis.

I threw the question to some of my lovely friends at the Quiltbag Historicals facebook group (join us, we’re cool!) and they immediately began working out ways I could fudge the story. So Walter begins his army career as his twin brother and has a little help from the people around him to keep his origins concealed. And I reassured myself that if people are prepared to suspend disbelief about the paranormal aspects of my stories then they can allow me this tiny (enormous) stretch of possibility to get it off the ground!

I love Walter. He’s so very pragmatic about his life and his place in the universe. He’s just getting on and doing his thing. I wanted him to have a happy ending so badly all the time I was writing The Fog of War and I was very pleased to be able to give him one here in The Quid Pro Quo.

I like to think of my stories as realistically historical first and paranormal second. My characters are just getting on living their lives—which have greater or lesser levels of complexity—and the paranormal comes and whacks them round the back of the head with half a brick in a sock. I try and make the history as accurate and the paranormal as twisted as I can! I think I’ve done Walter justice, as he’s one of my favourite people. I hope you like him too.

Lastly, here is a brilliant collection of books about trans history and trans issues, curated by Christine Burns and available from independent bookshops.

The Quid Pro Quo

Village nurse Walter Kennett is content with his makeshift found-family in tiny Bradfield. However one midsummer morning a body is found floating in the village duck pond, dead by magical means.

Detective Simon Frost arrives in Bradfield to investigate a inexplicable murder. The evidence seems to point to Lucille Hall-Bridges, who lives with doctor Sylvia Marks and nurse Walter Kennett at Courtfield House. Simon isn’t happy—he doesn’t believe Lucy is a murderer but he’s sure the three of them are hiding something. In the meantime, the draw he feels toward Walter takes him by surprise.

Walter is in a dilemma, concealing Sylvia and Lucy’s relationship and not knowing how much to tell Frost about the paranormal possibilities of the murder. He isn’t interested in going to bed with anyone—he’s got a complicated life and has to know someone really well before he falls between the sheets. He’s taken aback by his own attraction to Detective Frost and angry when Frost appears to twist the spark between them to something transactional in nature.

Will Walter be satisfied to stay on the periphery of Lucy and Sylvia’s love affair, a welcome friend but never quite included? Or is it time for him to strike out and embark on a relationship of his own?

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