Monday, 25 August 2025

My Coffee Pot Book Tour Guest: Scents of Lavender by D.C. Wilkinson

Welcome to my Blog!
Wander through worlds
real and fictional,
meet interesting people,
visit exciting places
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About the Book

Name: D. C. Wilkinson

Book Title: Scents of Lavender: Queer Love Through the Ages –In Verse

Publication Date: June 1, 2025

Publisher: DCW Press

Pages: 108

Genre: Poetry / Historical Fiction / LGBTQ+ Romance

Timeless and unwavering, love flows through a universal melody that echoes in every corner of the globe. Transcending borders and cultures, it sows the seeds of memories that sprout and blossom in Scents of Lavender, a collection of 25 illustrated poems that breathe life into evocative scenes where queer love proudly re-emerges from the depths of history, uncovering deep and everlasting bonds.

Each poem invites the reader to explore the narrator’s deeply personal and intimate perspective through pantheistic eyes. Written in the first person, every verse unfolds as both a reflection and a manifestation of a single universal mind and soul, drawing the reader into a shared understanding that love –in all its forms– is boundless, eternal, and permeates the cosmos.

Buy Link:

Universal Buy Link: https://mybook.to/Fbo5QDA

Author Bio:

D. C. Wilkinson is an award-winning novelist, poet, and lifelong voyager of inner and outer realms. His literary work centers on his passion for historical tales, portal fantasies, and dreams and visions often weaved into narratives that highlight LGBTQ+ experiences.

He began his career in the Midwest as a student of Language Arts before relocating to the East Coast in his early twenties. A graduate of Columbia University and former New York City public school teacher, he now calls Connecticut his home, where he resides with his spouse and their beloved beagle.

Author Links:

Website: https://dcwilkinson.substack.com

Twitter / X: https://x.com/dcwilkinson2024

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/daniel.crossa.92

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/dcwilkinson2024

Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/d-c-wilkinson-4b870b14b/

Pinterest: https://pinterest.com/dcwilkinson2024

TikTok: https://tiktok.com/@dcwilkinson

Amazon Author Page: Amazon.com: D C Wilkinson: books, biography, latest update

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/56733113.D_C_Wilkinson

Trailer: https://dcwilkinson.substack.com/p/scents-of-lavender-bea

read a snippet

The magic of the lyres

made him weep,

as if only he

could hear

the secrets

in their whispers

From Antinous

TRAILER: https://dcwilkinson.substack.com/p/scents-of-lavender-bea

Follow the tour:

Bsky: @cathiedunn.bsky.social

Twitter Handle: @dcwilkinson2024 @cathiedunn

Instagram Handle: @dcwilkinson2024 @thecoffeepotbookclub

Hashtags: #HistoricalFiction #Romance #LGBTRomance #LGBTQ+

#IllustratedPoetry; #BlogTour #TheCoffeePotBookClub

Tour Schedule Page:

https://thecoffeepotbookclub.blogspot.com/2025/08/blog-tour-scents-of-lavender-by-d-c-wilkinson.html

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Friday, 22 August 2025

My Coffee Pot Book Tour Guest: Lord Frederick's Return by Catherine Kullmann

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About the Book

Name: Catherine Kullmann

Book Title: Lord Frederick’s Return

Series: n/a

Publication Date: 22nd July 2025

Publisher: Willow Books

Pages: 269

Genre: Regency Romance

An older hero, an enigmatic heroine and a delightfully outspoken four-year-old. Throw scandal into the mix for a gripping and tender Regency love story.

August 1816. Lord Frederick Danlow returns to England after spending 18 years in India. He plans to make a home for himself and his motherless, four-year-old daughter, Ruperta. Unsure where to start, he accepts an invitation to stay at Ponsonby Place, home of Colonel Jack Ponsonby who made his fortune in India, and his daughter Susannah, the mistress of the household.

Soon Frederick finds himself in need of a governess—and a wife? The more time he spends with Susannah, the more his admiration of her deepens. Is she the woman with whom he will share his life?

He is resolved to court her, but then his younger brother Henry engulfs his family in an appalling scandal that could prevent any lady from agreeing to a connection with it. Now Frederick must support his family during this ordeal.

But what of Susannah? What will she say when she hears of the scandal? Should he, dare he offer her his heart and his hand?

Buy Link:

Universal Buy Link: https://mybook.to/Frederick

Author Bio:

Catherine Kullmann was born and educated in Dublin. Following a three-year courtship conducted mostly by letter, she moved to Germany where she lived for twenty-five years before returning to Ireland. She has worked in the Irish and New Zealand public services and in the private sector. Widowed, she has three adult sons and two grandchildren.

She has always been interested in the extended Regency period, a time when the foundations of our modern world were laid. She loves writing and is particularly interested in what happens after the first happy end—how life goes on for the protagonists and sometimes catches up with them. Her books are set against a background of the offstage, Napoleonic wars and consider in particular the situation of women trapped in a patriarchal society.

She is the author of The Murmur of Masks, Perception & Illusion, A Suggestion of Scandal, The Duke’s Regret, The Potential for Love , A Comfortable Alliance , Lady Loring’s Dilemma and The Husband Criteria.

She also blogs about historical facts and trivia related to this era. You can find out more about Catherine’s books and read the blog (My Scrap Album) at her website where you can also subscribe to her newsletter.

Author Links:

Website:

http://www.catherinekullmann.com/

Twitter / X:

https://twitter.com/CKullmannAuthor

Facebook:

https://www.facebook.com/catherinekullmannauthor

Book Bub:

https://www.bookbub.com/profile/catherine-kullmann

Amazon Author Page:

viewauthor.at/ckullmannamazonpage

Goodreads:

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/15549457.Catherine_Kullmann

read an excerpt

Excerpt One:

February 1816

His daughter in his arms, Lord Frederick Danlow stood on the deck of the East Indiaman, his gaze fixed on the receding coastline. Eighteen years away, far longer than he had expected, but the prolonged war with the French had played merry hell with the Company’s shipping between India and England. Besides, he had not envisaged becoming such a family man. He would have been content to grow old in India with Jiya but she had been cruelly taken from him and India had lost its savour.

With their twin sons, now young men of fifteen, suitably placed with the help of their grandfather, they had been surprised but not displeased by the last, unexpected pregnancy and charmed by the gift of a daughter. But within hours of the birth, Jiya had developed a high fever and within a day it was all over. The infant, hastily baptised Ruperta Fredericka Jiya by one of the Company’s chaplains, would have followed as quickly were it not for the quick-witted midwife who seemed to conjure from nowhere a wetnurse to complement the ayahs who had already been engaged in anticipation of the new arrival.

He had numbly played his part in the funeral rites, aware that to his British compatriots the death of an Indian bibi was scarcely worthy of notice and that the survival of a motherless girl child was equally insignificant. For the first time, he thought of returning to Britain with the child. How old should she be before he braved a six-month voyage with her? Able to walk and talk, he thought, and heed instructions at least. That gave him a couple of years to plan; no harm, he supposed, when he considered the preparations needed for a voyage of several months, not to mention the task of unravelling the fabric of his life here.

Ruperta wriggled frantically. “Down, Papa.”

“Only if you hold my hand, sweeting.” Frederick carefully lowered the child to the deck. “Remember, you must never come out here without me or one of the ayahs, and always be careful not to get in the way of the officers or crew.”

As he spoke, someone bellowed an order and seamen ran to the heavy ropes that controlled the sails. He took a last breath of the aromatic air that was already yielding its distinctive spice to the sharper scent of salt and headed for the great roundhouse cabin that he had reserved for the voyage. The exorbitant fee had provided him merely with the bare space, which he must then equip to his liking. Now the wooden floor was spread with soft rugs. The canvas partition that divided the room at night into women’s and men’s quarters had been drawn back but the observer could readily note the two distinct parts, one furnished in the English style, with a sea couch that converted into a sofa for daytime use, a bureau-bookcase and a table and chairs. The other half was scattered with low tables, cushions, and divans that supplied the ayahs with seating during the day and were put together to provide beds at night. Ruperta slept here too, protected by the two ayahs who had cared for her since her birth. Frederick had considered getting a bed for her, but the women had pointed out that in bad weather she would be safer cocooned between them.

The servants were busy unpacking the chests that held the items they would need on the voyage. The bookcase was filled with the mixture of new books and old favourites that Frederick hoped would sustain him during the tedium ahead. Ruperta ran to the chest that contained her playthings. How long would they keep her entertained, he wondered. And what of his fellow-passengers whom he would meet for dinner at the captain’s table? Would he find congenial companions among them? He had heard horror stories of such voyages and hoped they were not the type of hard-drinking rakehell who judged an evening’s success by the number of bottles of wine drained by each reveller. He preferred intelligent, witty conversation in more abstemious company.

~~~

Six months later, Frederick stood again on deck, watching through the rain for the first glimpse of England. The memory of India had faded; the weeks and months at sea forming a strange hiatus between east and west, elusive time spent in an idiosyncratic realm without physical boundaries other than the floating wooden construction which housed several hundred people in close proximity, and which knew neither before nor after, just a shifting now. It had been a dull, wet voyage but, judging by dinner-table conversation, they had been spared the worst terrors of such crossings, encountering storms but not hurricanes and never running out of supplies. Illness and accidents there had been, and he would not forget the barren simplicity of the committal of the dead to the deep.

His worst fears in travelling with a young child had not been realised. In this, he was indebted to Mrs Captain Duggan, a resolute lady returning to England with her three children and her husband. In all there were thirteen English and Anglo-Indian children on board, ranging in age from three to twelve and Mrs Duggan had decreed that they should not lack education.

“If we combine our resources,” she had declared that first evening, “we can keep them instructed and out of mischief for some of the time each day which will allow the ayahs attend to other matters.”

“Is Ruperta not too young for school?” Frederick had asked.

“Nonsense. It will do her good to sit with others and speak English. She’ll never learn if she spends all her time with the ayahs. She can practise her ABC. I have a copy of Mother Goose and perhaps others have some books suitable for children.”

Two other mothers had agreed, and Mrs Duggan had then suggested that the gentlemen be responsible for four older boys who should not forget anything they ever knew while at sea. “They all are to go to school in England and should not be too far behind their classmates.”

The next day, a curriculum was drawn up and students paired with teachers. Frederick found himself taking the two oldest boys in Latin, and starting them in Greek. Lessons were held in the morning. The captain dined in state with the passengers at two o’clock, and the usual post-prandial pursuits of cards, reading, and music-making occupied the time until supper at nine. On the captain’s instructions, all candles were to be snuffed by ten o’clock to cut down the risk of fire.

It was a humdrum existence, he supposed, but restful, and he had got to know his daughter in a way he had never known his sons. Mindful of Mrs Duggan’s comment about the need for her to learn English, and concerned as to how she would adapt to English society after spending her life so far in the Zenana or women’s quarters of his home, he had made a point of spending time with her each day, reading to her and telling her stories.

Now he wondered had he done enough. What would his sister-in-law, the Marchioness of Rickersby, make of her?

When he left England, his father had still been alive and his elder brother a newly betrothed twenty-two. Now George was the marquess, and father of two sons and two daughters. Their sister, Elizabeth, had been married out of the schoolroom to a peer twice her age while Frederick was at Oxford; as a result, he hardly knew her. There were twelve years between him and the youngest child, Henry; they had shared neither nursery nor schoolroom. Well, time enough to get to know him now, he supposed.

He mentally listed his priorities for the next month: ensure that his belongings were landed safely, reacquaint himself with his brothers and sister, make his bow to his sister-in-law, and decide where to establish himself. He must purchase an estate, but had not yet decided where. Come to think of it, England was as foreign to him now as India had been eighteen years ago.

© Catherine Kullmann 2025

Follow the tour:

Bsky: @cathiedunn.bsky.social

Twitter Handles: @CKullmannAuthor @cathiedunn

Instagram Handle: @thecoffeepotbookclub

Hashtags: #Regency #HistoricalFiction #HistoricalRomance #BlogTour #TheCoffeePotBookClub

Tour Schedule Page:

https://thecoffeepotbookclub.blogspot.com/2025/08/blog-tour-lord-fredericks-return-by-catherine-kullmann.html

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Wednesday, 20 August 2025

Rachel's Random Resources Book Tour of: The Players: Act 1 - All The World's A Stage by Amy Sparkes

Rachel's Random Resources
Book Tours

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About the Book

The Players Act 1: All the World's A Stage

How far would you go to save what you truly love?

England, 1715.

When society doesn’t understand you, and your family is out of the picture, a strolling theatre company could be your perfect home…

Ambitious lead actor Thomas is determined to reach Drury Lane and prove to his father that he is not a failure.

Fierce Caroline has a traumatic past and is determined to protect the company which saved her.

Kind-hearted Annie just wants to look after her found family.

So, when their heartbroken manager Robert is injured and decides to fold the struggling company, the players are resolved to change his mind, whatever the cost. Unfortunately for them, the odds are stacked against them. They’ve lost their stage, they still haven’t got a skull for Hamlet, and flamboyant ex-member Piero is hunting them down, with a spot of revenge on his mind...

Is it time for the final bow?

The Players Act 1: All The World’s A Stage gives voice to the forgotten strolling players of the 18th century in this fun, uplifting, and page-turning read.

WHAT TO EXPECT:

• Energetic, accessible historical fiction

• Working-class characters

• Found family

• Comedy and tragedy

• Shakespeare

• LGBTQ+

• Neurodiversity

• Mental health issues

• Multiple POV

• Heart and hope

Purchase Links

https://www.kobo.com/gb/en/ebook/the-players-act-1

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Players-Act-All-Worlds-Stage-ebook/dp/B0DY8CM3LX

https://www.amazon.com/Players-Act-All-Worlds-Stage-ebook/dp/B0DY8CM3LX

Author Bio –

Amy was born in Eastbourne, England, where the sea and South Downs encouraged her love of the outdoors and nurtured her wildness. Her childhood was filled with folk music, caravans and imagination, and she was always dreaming up stories and characters – usually when she was meant to be doing something else.

She enjoys stories that explore both comedy and tragedy. She is a New York Times bestselling author and her work includes THE HOUSE AT THE EDGE OF MAGIC series, and the picture books for BBC’s THE REPAIR SHOP. THE PLAYERS is her debut novel for adults.

Amy now lives in Devon with her husband and six children. When she isn’t writing, Amy enjoys drinking tea, climbing trees and playing the piano, although disappointingly she is yet to master doing all three at once.

Social Media Links –

www.facebook.com/AmySparkesAuthor

www.instagram.com/sparkes_amy

https://bsky.app/profile/amysparkes.bsky.social

CHAPTER 1: Thomas

Thomas yanked open the front door of the Red Lion, scooped up his skirts and ran outside. He just about dodged the soggy cabbage which hurtled past him into the street. For Heaven’s sake! It was hard enough running dressed as Titania.

The laughter of the drunken audience behind him rattled in his ears as an egg came flying through the door. It landed with a discouraging noise, and an even worse smell, at his feet. Dropping his skirts and catching his breath, he looked back at the inn with its uneven, timber-framed walls.

Where the Hell were the others?

There was a rumble of wheels. Thomas snapped his head around and gave a sigh of relief. Thank Heaven! The tattered old wagon, covered in canvas and decorated with colourful strips of rag, exited the stable-yard behind the building and headed right for him. It was pulled by Old Bess, a huge, sturdy horse, and driven by the man he so desperately wanted to impress. The red cloak of Oberon hung around his shoulders, and a hastily crumpled green curtain sat in his lap.

Robert pulled on the reins and the wagon rattled to a halt beside Thomas. “In!” Dark waves of hair framed a face marred by disappointment. He jabbed his thumb at the wagon. “Thomas, in!”

“You cannot be suggesting we leave the stage behind! All that wood!”

“I’m the manager: do as you’re bloody told! Where are the girls?”

Before Thomas could answer, a couple of older men from the erstwhile audience staggered into the doorway, pissed as pigs in a cider orchard while smelling twice as bad, and more eggs flew in his direction. He jumped back as the shells smashed at his feet, releasing their vile odour. The men burst into drunken laughter and took aim again—

—but they lurched forwards, landing face-first on the ground as Caroline pushed past them, dressed in a scrappy green tunic with her wild, black hair still tamed for the performance. One of her hands gripped a bottle of – was that rum? – and the other pulled Annie, who was clutching her fiddle and apparently hadn’t considered that removing the donkey head she wore might have hastened the exit.

“Catch!” called Caroline, throwing Thomas the bottle.

Thomas’ sweating fingers just about caught it – definitely rum – as Caroline pulled the donkey head from Annie, hastily untangling it from long, red hair. Caroline threw the head in the back of the wagon, then bundled Annie in.

“We must go back for the stage!” Thomas looked desperately at the inn.

There was a roar of noise as the rest of the drunken men and women swarmed out of the door.

“Shit,” muttered Thomas. Why was it an audience only seemed large when it was pissed off?

The red-cheeked innkeeper pushed to the fore, pointing at Caroline. “Bloody Puck stole me rum!” A fresh barrage of rotten food flew towards them.

“On reflection, let’s leave the stage.” Thomas turned to the wagon behind him.

There was a flick of reins; a rolling of wheels.

“Shit-shit-shit-shit-shit-shit!”

He swept up his skirts with his free hand, sprinted after the wagon and leapt, landing a little painfully upon the donkey head.

“Mind Horatio!” protested Annie.

He jumped straight back up. The wagon rolled away from the crowd, whose disappointed faces reflected his own heart. Why did this have to happen? He always tried so hard. So bloody hard. But he threw on the winning smile of a showman and raised the bottle of rum to the crowd.

“You’ve been a marvellous audience!” he called, and gratefully took a swig.