Meet The Image of Her’s Rachel Harris

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Rachel Harris is an unemployed librarian, having lost her job when her library branch was closed due to county council cutbacks. She has recently moved into the cottage left to her by her late grandmother and is looking for a lodger to share it with. Having recently turned thirty, Rachel is also thinking of her birth and adoption, and wonders if she should try again to find her birth mother who abandoned Rachel as a new-born baby on the steps of a church-run children’s home.

The cottage is old and creaks and groans but Rachel begins to hear rustling noises and the pot plant she keeps on the bathroom window sill ends up regularly on the floor. She mentions the noises to her adoptive mother and her best friend, Kathy, but thinks nothing more of it until Kathy e-mails her to let her know that she has arranged for the ‘Hot Vicar’ standing in for the holidaying local clergyman to call to the cottage and investigate the noises.

Returning home from a job interview, Rachel finds the Reverend Matthew Williams waiting for her and discovers that, yes, he is pretty hot, while he finds that the strange noises are caused by nothing stranger than a large bat roost in her attic. When Matthew sees Rachel is looking for a lodger, he asks if she would consider him. Single since discovering her boyfriend was married with two children, Rachel puts aside her attraction to the first man since Craig and agrees. She can’t be eyeing up Matthew now she is going to be his landlady. But only days after Matthew moves into the cottage, the anonymous and increasingly frightening incidents begin.

Is Rachel being targeted? Is it Matthew? Or is it someone who has a grudge against both of them? And why? You’ll have to read The Image of Her to find out…  

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Rachel Harris was abandoned as a baby on the steps of a church-run children’s home in England and later adopted. Who was her birth mother and what were the circumstances which led her to give up her baby?

Searching for someone who doesn’t want to be found seems a hopeless task until Rachel meets Matthew Williams, a Church of England clergyman.

Then the anonymous and increasingly frightening attempts to end their relationship begin. Are these actions connected to the mysterious events surrounding Rachel’s birth?

Read An Excerpt:

“Your dad asked me whether I was single, married, divorced or…gay, I suppose…”

She groaned. Dad. You wanted me to get a lodger, and now I have one you immediately start giving him the third degree. “I thought you’d be safe with him. Mum’s usually the one cross-examining people.”

“Then he told me about you, that you were adopted, and about…” He tailed off and her heart began to pound with fury at her father. “I’m sorry, I didn’t question him about you.”

“No, you’re far too polite,” she replied. “Yes, my ex, Craig turned out to be married with two kids. He just forgot to tell me.”

He gave her a sympathetic smile. “This competition of ours might end up as a draw yet,” he said and she pulled a comical expression. “But it must have been awful.”

“Yes. I was his mistress for four months; the idea of it makes me shudder now. It was all downhill for a while afterwards. I lost my job. A few months later Gran died, then I reversed the car into a concrete bollard.”

“Then I arrived.”

She gave a little laugh. “Once you arrived I could tell Mum and Kathy that this house isn’t haunted and I wasn’t going nuts, I’d got someone to share an ancient house with no double glazing with, and I’d got a new job. That’s good in my eyes.”

“Well, I’m relieved.”

“Well, I’m furious you were interrogated about your marital and sexual status. It’s none of either of my parents’ business.”

“I can’t blame them for trying to match-make.” He shrugged. “I am single and straight after all.” She flushed and he smiled. “Enough. I’m embarrassing you. Friends, yeah?”

He came across to her and held out a hand.

She grinned, clasped it and squeezed it. “Friends.”

“Did you tell his wife?”

“No,” she replied. “I wanted to, to get my own back, but I didn’t. Why wreck her life, too? And the children’s if she left him. Do you think I should have?”

“No, you did the right thing,” he assured her. “It’s only natural you’d want revenge, but I think you were wise in not giving into it.”

“I hated him for doing that to me and to his family. I mean, I have no idea where I come from or what sort of situation my birth mother was in. I’m not going to create problems for Craig’s wife if she believes there are none.”

“How did you find out?” He seated himself in the saggy floral armchair opposite her.

“I saw them.” She pulled a wry expression. “They were grocery shopping in Aldabury. It was a workday afternoon, so he obviously thought it safe for him to be in the supermarket with them. I wasn’t feeling too well and was on my way home from work but had popped in to the chemist there. I saw them as I was leaving. There they all were at the freezers, choosing what kind of pizza to have for dinner that evening. He was supposed to be in Scotland at a conference. I almost threw up on the spot. I just dropped everything and ran.”

“Did you confront him?”

She swallowed and closed her eyes, recalling the awful experience. “Yes. He didn’t bother denying it so I just asked him to leave. I was very calm, very dignified, but once he left I cried solidly for days, then gave notice on the house, packed my bags and went home to Mum and Dad. I haven’t seen him since. Have you seen your ex since you split up?”

“Ages ago. Just to see, not to talk to. I’m not so sure if I could have been as dignified as you.”

“What about now? I used to dread running into him again, but I heard a few months ago that they’d moved. It was a huge relief.”

“Not sure.” He shrugged and crossed his legs. “I certainly wouldn’t try and get back with her. One bitten, twice shy. I think I could just about exchange a few clergyman-like comments about the weather, or something. I don’t know where she is living now, anyway, and I don’t really care.” His raised his eyebrows. “I can hear Mike cheering from here. I wonder what you’ll think of Mike? He always takes the mickey out of me. I wonder what he’ll make of an a librarian soon-to-be-archivist?”

She pretended to ponder it for a couple of moments. “Well, I’m not the elderly spinster-type with glasses on a chain around her neck and who wears a twin set and pearls.”

“Not yet.”

She roared with laughter and was delighted to see him laugh, too. “So what does this Mike call you?” she asked.

“Well, he used to call me Fox Mulder. I’m sure he’ll think of something new eventually.”

“And you don’t mind?”

He shrugged non-committally. “From Mike I can take it. Just about. Sometimes you need to laugh, don’t you?”

“I could have made you laugh last night if you’d told me.”

He met her eyes with a grateful smile and she fought to control another flush. “If it happens again—which I hope it won’t—but if it does, I’ll tell you. If you hadn’t guessed what was wrong already, that is. Your dad also told me about the children’s home you were in. You do know the Church of England ran it?”

“Yes. The building is still there, too. I went there and took a picture of the steps. People must have thought I was completely nuts, but anyone working there thirty years ago has long gone.”

“Tell me if I’m interfering.” He sounded hesitant. “But I could make some enquiries about people who used to work there. They might remember your birth mother.”

Her heart leaped and she clenched her fists. “No, you wouldn’t be interfering at all. Fantastic, Matthew. Thank you.”

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Meet The Image of Her’s Matthew Williams

Matthew

Matthew Williams is a 38-year-old Church of England clergyman. He has returned to the church after a year’s sabbatical following a violent assault on him and has recently been appointed editor of the Diocese of Aldabury’s church magazine.

The assault left Matthew with PTSD and has only increased his trust issues. His relationship with his ex-girlfriend hadn’t been going well even before the assault—she had wanted him to look for a country parish and he was appointed to an inner city parish instead. She then thought that when he resigned from his parish following the assult, he was, ‘flushing his career right down the toilet’. Their attempt to live together while he was on sabbatical was disastrous, with her continually nagging him to find another parish. They soon went their separate ways and Matthew moved in temporarily with a friend, sleeping on Mike’s sofa.

While waiting to begin work as editor and undergoing IT training, Matthew stands in for clergy who are away and he is asked to call to a woman claiming to be hearing strange noises in her house. He finds nothing stranger than a large bat roost in her attic and when he sees that Rachel is looking for a lodger is is he who asks if she would consider him.

Matthew hopes that by living in a beautiful cottage in the countryside, he can put the assult firmly in the past and look to the future. But only days after he moves in, the anonymous and increasingly frightening incidents begin.

Is Matthew being targeted? Is it Rachel? Or is it someone who has a grudge against both of them? And why? You’ll have to read The Image of Her to find out…  

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Rachel Harris was abandoned as a baby on the steps of a church-run children’s home in England and later adopted. Who was her birth mother and what were the circumstances which led her to give up her baby?

Searching for someone who doesn’t want to be found seems a hopeless task until Rachel meets Matthew Williams, a Church of England clergyman.

Then the anonymous and increasingly frightening attempts to end their relationship begin. Are these actions connected to the mysterious events surrounding Rachel’s birth?

Read An Excerpt:

Rachel saw nothing of Matthew the following day; didn’t hear him leave and didn’t hear him come home—but he must have—as she found a mug and plate, knife, fork, and spoon left to dry on the draining board the next morning.

That night, she was in bed with a detective novel when she heard him come home. Glancing at the clock radio, she saw it was ten to midnight. He came straight upstairs and went into his room. Some minutes later, she heard murmuring then a louder and clearer “Amen,” then all was quiet.

A few hours later, she was woken by an anguished cry. She leapt out of bed and ran across the landing just as another cry came from Matthew’s room.

“Matthew?” She knocked at his door, then thought to hell with it, and opened the door. Fumbling for the switch, she turned the light on. A bare-chested Matthew was sitting up in bed, the heels of his hands in his eyes, and his fingers in his hair clawing his scalp. Little by little, he dragged his hands down his face and groaned.

“What is it?” she asked, crouching down beside the bed and just managing to keep her voice steady.

“I’m okay.” He shrugged.

“No, you’re not. Want to talk about it?”

“It?” he repeated.

“The nightmare.”

“I can’t remember it,” he told her in a flat tone. She knew he was lying. “I’ll be okay. Thanks, Rachel. Sorry for giving you a fright. Oh.” He rubbed his eyes. “Tomorrow… today, I don’t have to work, so I’ll have a lie-in.”

“All right. Goodnight.” Reluctant to leave him in such a state, she closed the door and returned to her room. As she got back into bed, she heard murmuring again.

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More Tea Vicar?

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The word ‘vicar’ means ‘deputy’. In the Middle Ages, the word ‘rector’ meant the person who had the right to collect the income of his parish (known as the ‘living’). The rector would appoint a deputy, the vicar, who did the work we associate today with ministers and priests. So the term ‘vicar’ became commonly used to refer to any working church minister.

These days, vicar is a term which refers to a parish priest of the Anglican Church and are free to marry. Since 1992, women have been able to become vicars. The first female vicar in England was appointed in 1994 and the first female bishop, the Right Reverend Libby Lane, was consecrated in 2015.

The Image of Her’s Matthew Williams isn’t technically a vicar as he currently doesn’t have a parish. Yes, he’s a clergyman, but he has returned to the church after a year’s sabbatical following a violent assault on him and he has recently been appointed editor of the Diocese of Aldabury’s church magazine. But that doesn’t stop Rachel Harris’ best friend Kathy referring to Matthew in considerable disbelief as a ‘Hot Vicar’.

Matthew

This is because British vicars have been portrayed for years as stuffy, conservative, tea or sherry-drinkers, and not exactly the sharpest tool in the box. I’m just about old enough to remember the comedian Dick Emery’s portrayal of a vicar with all the above characteristics.

Cliche Vicar

This is changing, though. I was a big fan of Rev, a BBC comedy which was set in an inner city London parish, and The Vicar of Dibley, with a female vicar in a rural parish.

Matthew is none of these things. I didn’t go out of my way to overturn all the stereotypes, I just wanted to portray Matthew as a normal bloke, who lived with his ex-girlfriend during his year away from the church. He just happens to be a clergyman.

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Read An Excerpt:

Macbeth is opening in a few weeks,” she began. “If I can get tickets, will you come?”

His face brightened and her heart leapt. “I’d love to.” He drained his glass and topped it up again. “Thank you. The last play I saw was some Oscar Wilde thing. The whole production was awful.”

The Importance of Being Earnest three months ago.”

“You were there?” He gave a hearty guffaw. “The opening and only night?” She nodded. “Lady Bracknell forgot her lines twice and someone else almost fell off the stage.”

“It was pretty awful. Francie’s refused to go to the theatre with me ever again.”

“Francie?” He stacked the empty pizza boxes on top of each other then had to grab them as the breeze threatened to blow them away. He put them on the floor by his feet.

“A friend of mine,” she explained. “We worked together a few years ago.”

“Could he or she not move in with you?”

“I’m sure her husband and kids would have something to say if she did.”

“Oh.” He made an inarticulate gesture with a hand. “It’s a right pain in the arse when your friends all go off and get married on you, isn’t it?”

How many glasses of wine had he drunk? She stole a glance at the bottle; there was a dribble in the bottom. Two? Whatever it was, he was pretty tipsy on it.

“Very inconsiderate,” she agreed.

“You’d like to get married?”

“Maybe.”

“Or would you rather live together?” he asked, reaching for the wine again.

“Maybe.”

He smiled at that and emptied the last of the wine into his glass. “Maybe?”

“Maybe. How about you?” she went on before they started going round and round in circles.

“Not sure. The church believes in the sanctity of marriage.”

“Do you?”

“Are you trying to trip me up here?” he enquired with a smile.

Was she? “Maybe.”

“Then, yes, I suppose I do. And, yes, I would like to get married one day, but I’m very wary after the whole Karen mess. Are you a bit…after what happened with you?”

“A bit, yes,” she admitted and took a sip of lemonade.

“It’s hard, too, when you’re out in a club, say, and you’re asked what you do.”

“What do you say?” Now she was really curious. A clergyman in a night club.

How on earth does he go about chatting up girls?

“I haven’t been in a club since the attack, but I used to I tell them I’m a clergyman,” he responded with a firm nod. “I never lie about it. As to specifics…” He swirled the wine around the glass before draining it. “I used to tell them exactly what I did, that I was the vicar of a parish in the city, and that’s when they either laughed at me or disappeared to the ladies’ toilets and never came back.”

“I laughed at you. I’m sorry.”

“You apologised.” He shrugged. “A first for me. In fact, you’ve been really good about it all. Incredibly good. You’ve never once interrogated me.”

Except now. “I left that to my parents.”

“Mine were horrified when I told them what I do now. ‘Why do you always have to be different, Matt?’” He mimicked a high-pitched voice, which must be his mother’s. “‘Why can’t you be a normal clergyman, if it’s what you really want to do?’”

“I’m sure they are proud of you,” she said, sounding feeble.

“They never show it or say so.”

“I’m sorry.”

He pushed his empty glass away and rested his folded arms on the table. “There you go apologising again.”

“I mean it.”

“I know you do.” He sighed and peered up at the sky. “I wish I could live at the cottage again, but if something happened to you I’d never forgive myself.”

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The Image of Her – An Excerpt

cropped-theimageofherbylornapeel-fbbanner.jpgRachel Harris was abandoned as a baby on the steps of a church-run children’s home in England and later adopted. Who was her birth mother and what were the circumstances which led her to give up her baby?

Searching for someone who doesn’t want to be found seems a hopeless task until Rachel meets Matthew Williams, a Church of England clergyman.

Then the anonymous and increasingly frightening attempts to end their relationship begin. Are these actions connected to the mysterious events surrounding Rachel’s birth?

Rachel and Matthew from The Image of Her  dfef82dbdc16cf899c6ca8c5ee8595d3

Read An Excerpt:

Hot Vicar Alert! The e-mail screamed at Rachel out of a sea of spam and she glanced at the sender. Kathy Roberts. Hmm. It could mean anything but was doubtless some rubbish joke doing the rounds or, worse still, one which Kathy in her infinite wisdom had dreamt up herself. Rachel braced herself and opened it.

Hi Rachel,

That caught your attention, didn’t it? 🙂 Anyway, I know HOT and VICAR don’t belong in the same sentence but trust me on this one, OK? Reverend Sykes is on holiday and this guy’s the locum, or stand in, or whatever they’re called in the Church of England, and he’s GORGEOUS. I managed to be at Gran’s when he was doing the rounds of the pensioners and he’s just WOW—tall, dark and handsome—the works. So off you pop to morning service in Upton on Sunday, have an ogle, and you can thank me profusely on Monday, OK? 🙂

Kathy

Have an ogle? In church? At the vicar? Well, thank you, Kathy, subtle as ever. Rachel closed the e-mail then began to wade through the rest. It was high time she got one of those spam filter thingies. A second e-mail from Kathy caught her eye and she opened it, wary of its content.

Sorry, Rachel, I forgot to mention that I managed to arrange for said HOT VICAR to call around to you in the next couple of days about the weird noises you’ve been hearing at the cottage. With a little luck he won’t think you’re nuts and it’ll take your mind off your mum’s nagging for a bit. Good luck with the job interview tomorrow. Found a lodger yet? Ask HOT VICAR to move in. 🙂

Rachel’s mouth fell open. Oh, God, Kathy had told a complete stranger about the weird noises. She rested her forehead on the laptop keyboard and groaned. She ought to be worrying about her job interview, not this. Hot Vicar? She couldn’t help but laugh…complete contradiction in terms…

* * * *

The job interview went well, Rachel mused the following day, as she treated herself to lunch in town. She’d just managed to clear her mind of vicars—hot or otherwise—and weird noises for the half hour duration. She collected her car from the garage, tried not to wince as she paid for the new back bumper, then drove home. She’d better get the job now, and try to remember to bring the advertisement for a lodger with her the next time she went out.

A green Volkswagen Golf was parked outside the cottage as she pulled up at the side. Zippy, her Irish terrier, yapped at the garden gate but she shushed him before going to see who the visitor was.

The driver’s window lowered. “Rachel Harris?”

“Yes?” She shaded her eyes against the sun as a tall man dressed in black got out. “Sorry, I’ve been in town.”

“That’s okay.” His response sounded cheerful. “Your friend wasn’t sure what time your job interview was.”

“My friend?” She tried not to sound suspicious and, to her relief, he laughed kindly.

“Mrs Roberts asked if I could call. My name is Matthew Williams.”

She frowned. This wasn’t Hot Vicar already? If so, he was scarily eager to learn more about the weird noises. She’d better make sure.

“Sorry, I’m not with you. Are you a Jehovah’s Witness, or something?” She cringed as soon as the words were out of her mouth. Now you’ve said so, he must be. “Because, well, I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m not—”

“I’m Church of England, actually. I’m standing in for Reverend Sykes while he’s away on holiday. Here.” He fished into his jacket’s inside pocket and handed her a business card.

She squinted at it. Reverend Matthew Williams. Editor of The Message – The Magazine of the Church of England Diocese of Aldabury. He lived in Aldabury but—she noted the address—in one of the awful 1960’s tower blocks on the north side of the city and not in a vicarage. This had to be Hot Vicar but, she raised her eyes to him again, he wasn’t wearing a dog collar either, just a plain white shirt under the black suit.

“I’m not a churchgoer, sorry.” She made an awkward shuffle from one foot to the other. “I don’t know what Kathy’s been saying. I know I’ve had a lot of bad luck lately, what with my Gran dying, my job disappearing, and then pranging the car. But these things come in three’s, don’t they, and I’ve just had my third so…”

“I’ve come about the house, actually.” He gave the old stone cottage, covered in Boston Ivy, an appreciative glance. “Your friend was worried about you, er, hearing noises?”

Bingo. He was definitely Hot Vicar. She shouldn’t have asked him if he was a Jehovah’s Witness, though. She peered at him, trying not to make it obvious. He seemed normal enough, with short dark hair and brown eyes. But hot? It was hard to tell with the sun in her eyes and especially as he was staring back at her with quite a puzzled expression, waiting for her to reply. But good-looking? Oh, yes, which was a pity as he was probably a bit of a nutter and one who clearly thought her one, too.

“It’s up to you whether you would like me to come in, but I must admit I am curious. I don’t get many calls about weird noises to be honest.” He gave a comical shrug and smiled.

“There won’t be a sudden thunder and lightning storm the moment you step inside, will there?”

He chuckled and glanced up at the sky. “I hope not.”

“Do you, like, feel things? Presences and things?”

He froze as if he had never been asked such a question before and Rachel closed her eyes for a moment. Well done, two stupid questions in about as many minutes.

“No, I’m not psychic, though there have been times I really wish I was. I’m not in the Ministry of Deliverance and I don’t carry out exorcisms. Here.”

He held his driving license out to her. His photograph stared back at her and the address matched the business card so she passed it back.

“Thanks. Um, so what in particular do you do, if you don’t mind me asking? If you’re not in this Ministry of Deliverance, I mean? I’m not sure how this sort of thing works.”

“Mrs Roberts rang the diocesan offices and explained your problem. First point of contact is the local minister and as Reverend Sykes is away, that’s me at the moment.”

“And if you believe it’s necessary, you’ll refer the problem to this other ministry?”

He responded with a grave nod. “If it’s necessary.”

“Blimey. You’d better come in, then.”

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An Excerpt From The Image of Her

cropped-theimageofherbylornapeel-fbbanner.jpgRachel Harris was abandoned as a baby on the steps of a church-run children’s home in England and later adopted. Who was her birth mother and what were the circumstances which led her to give up her baby?

Searching for someone who doesn’t want to be found seems a hopeless task until Rachel meets Matthew, a Church of England clergyman.

Then the anonymous and increasingly frightening attempts to end their relationship begin. Are these actions connected to the mysterious events surrounding Rachel’s birth?

Read An Excerpt:

This is the room,” she said, opening the door. “Delightful décor. Circa 1940, I’d say.” She fought to control a smile when she saw his lips part in horror as his eyes travelled across the faded floral wallpaper.

“Delightful is one word for it,” he said in an attempt to be diplomatic.

“I’ll be decorating as soon as I can,” she assured him.

“What colour?”

“Well, something warm…maybe a deep yellow?”

His eyebrows rose and he nodded, pushing the door open further, and stepping inside to get a better look. The old door swung around on its hinges, hit the wardrobe standing behind, knocking a box off the top. Rachel watched as, naturally, the lid flew off and the contents scattered across the floor. Both fell to their knees and began to gather the sheets of paper together.

“Oh, God, trust me.”

“It’s all right.” She caught him glancing at one of the many microfilm print-outs from the local newspaper in his hands. Plea for Abandoned Baby’s Mother to Come Forward. “She didn’t. My adoptive mum couldn’t have any more children after my brother, Rick, so she and Dad adopted me when I was a year old.”

“A year old?” He sounded puzzled.

“I was in a children’s home and then fostered in case my birth mother did turn up. But she never did.”

“Have you ever tried to find her or your biological father?”

“I began to but didn’t get very far.” She sat back on her heels. “According to my file, I was abandoned on the steps of the children’s home in Telbury with a birth certificate tucked inside the shawl. The certificate stated my name, date of birth, and place of birth—which was Aldabury Maternity Hospital—and my birth mother’s name and address. All I have is my first name and date and place of birth. Everything else regarding my birth mother on the certificate seems to be false.”

“I see.”

He reached for the last printout and glanced around the room again.

Rachel followed his gaze. With the wallpaper removed and a bit of TLC it would make a very pleasant bedroom. Above the seldom-used dining room, it was at the front of the cottage, across the landing from her own bedroom, and offered stunning views of the surrounding countryside.

“I keep meaning to try and do more but it seems to be such a dead end. Kathy started her family tree the same time as me and because I got nowhere, I started to help her and we managed to go back almost three hundred years on her father’s side. I loved the process—going back one generation and another and another—so I trained to be an archivist. Mum has no interest in genealogy and thought I was bonkers but I didn’t care. So, I’m a wannabe archivist but a wannabe archivist with no family history. Ironic or what?”

“Yes, I suppose so.” He passed the sheet of paper back to her. “Apologies for trying to demolish the place.”

She returned the box to its home on the top of the wardrobe. “It serves me right for hiding the box in here so I’m not reminded all the time that I’ve no idea who the hell I am.”

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Meet Into The Unknown’s Kate Sheridan

Kate Sheridan

Kate Sheridan is an only child, born in Co Galway, Ireland to an Irish solicitor father and an English mother. Her father had wanted Kate to go to America in search of work and live with his cousin but her mother persuades him to let Kate go to London to live with Kate’s aunt and uncle, despite the threat of war.

Although Kate is only eighteen when she arrives in London on the morning of 3 September 1939, she is very independent, having been sent away from home to boarding school at the age of twelve. She has recently completed a course in a Commercial College so she knows short hand, typing and book keeping, which she hopes will help her in her search for work.

Unfortunately, Kate’s nationality and accent hinder her job search, as many people resent the Irish Free State’s decision to declare itself neutral. It is quite a while before she is employed by a local butcher, who thinks she’s Welsh, as his book-keeper. Mr Graham turns out to have wandering hands and by Christmas 1939, Kate has had enough of having her bottom pinched. She decides to leave and join the Women’s Auxiliary Air Force, known as the WAAF.

Kate meets Flight Lieutenant Charlie Butler on Christmas Day when they both have the same idea to walk off their Christmas dinner. She is immediately attracted to him and agrees to go to the pictures with him but is put on her guard when her aunt and uncle tell her Charlie is a womaniser who only lives for the here and now.

When Charlie asks Kate out a second time, her aunt and uncle are shocked. Charlie Butler has never asked the same woman out twice and Kate’s aunt forbids her to go. Should Kate heed her aunt and uncle’s advice and turn Charlie down? Or should she trust her own judgement and risk a relationship with an RAF pilot whose life will probably be in danger? Find out what she decides in Into The Unknown.  

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London on 3 September 1939 is in upheaval. War is inevitable. Into this turmoil steps Kate Sheridan, newly arrived from Ireland to live with her aunt and uncle, and look for work. When she meets Flight Lieutenant Charlie Butler sparks fly, but he is a notorious womaniser. Should she ignore all the warnings and get involved with a ladies man whose life will be in daily danger?

Charlie Butler has no intention of getting involved with a woman. But when he meets Kate his resolve is shattered. Should he allow his heart to rule his head and fall for a nineteen-year-old Irish girl while there is a war to fight?

Private conflicts and personal doubts are soon overshadowed. Will the horrors of war bring Kate and Charlie together or tear them apart?

Read An Excerpt:

“What?” His head jerked up, making her jump. “You’re only nineteen?”

He seemed so horrified, her heart began to thump for all the wrong reasons.

“Yes. Why? What age did you think I was?”

“Twenty-two, twenty-three, at least,” he gasped. “Oh God.”

My clothes and make-up, she thought, getting to her feet. “Charlie, we seem to have been very much mistaken about each other.” She reached for her gas mask case, hoping she wouldn’t cry, and cursing herself for not believing Helen and Bob and letting her guard down. “I’m very sorry.”

“No, Kate, please?” He stood up so quickly his chair toppled over backwards, just missing his own gas mask case, and grabbed her arms. “Please stay?” he pleaded, his hands sliding down to hers and squeezing them. “Please?”

When she nodded, he released her hands, and she re-took her seat. Picking up his chair, he sat down, rubbing the side of his nose, and she waited for him to gather his thoughts.

“Kate, I’m sorry. I did think you were older. I mean, I’m twenty-seven. You don’t look or act like a nineteen-year-old.”

She gave him a weak smile. “When I arrived in London, I looked like a scarecrow and Helen refused to be seen out with me. As soon as she could, she bought me clothes, shoes, and make-up, and got my hair cut and styled. We thought it would help me to get a job but looking back I realise it was very over the top. I did get a job, but it brought me the trouble with Mr. Graham, so now I’ve modified my style so I don’t look like a scarecrow or a clown anymore.”

“Mmm,” he replied, and she frowned. “I saw you,” he explained. “I was driving back to base. I saw you getting out of a cab. I only saw a glimpse of you, but it was enough for me. Kate, can we start again? Please?”

Kate looked down at her hands and heard Charlie sitting back in his chair. It creaked, and he sighed. How should she answer? What about Bob and Helen’s warnings? What about what her father would say? What about her feelings for Charlie? There was no denying she had some and she bit her bottom lip. This was only the second time they had gone out together. Was this all happening far too soon?

“Be careful.” Bob and Helen’s words echoed around her head and she couldn’t ignore them so she leaned forward. “Are you really sure you want to go out with a nineteen-year-old girl from Ireland?” she asked.

Seeing indecision in his eyes, her heart sank. “I need to know, Charlie. I’ve let my guard down once and I’m not doing it again unless I know.”

“Bob warned you about going out with me again, didn’t he?” he asked instead of answering. “No, it’s all right, I’d be amazed and disappointed in him if he hadn’t. Charlie Butler—be careful, he gets through more women than hot dinners. Kate, if you just want to be seen with a pilot on your arm, who makes you feel all grown up, then I will find a cab and send you back to Dunstan Street right now.”

“Bob warned me the first time, it was Helen who warned me about going out with you again. And I can also hear my father shouting at me in my head. You’re British, Charlie, and you’re in the British armed forces, so he’s going to hate you.” His dark eyes widened in shock, but she continued. “Charlie, I don’t need someone like you to make me feel all grown up. I’ve been all grown up since the age of twelve when I was sent away from home to boarding school. I’m here, despite Bob, despite Helen, despite my father, and despite my own reservations because I like you very much and I want to get to know you better. So, if you aren’t all grown up enough to handle that, then I will be the one calling a cab and sending you home.”

He stared at her. She returned his stare defiantly before he leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. “Yes, I am grown up enough,” he said. “And, yes, Bob’s right, Helen’s right, my father’s right, I have been with a lot of women, but none of them have ever had the effect that you have on me. So, Kate Sheridan, aged nineteen, from Ireland, would you like to go out with me?”

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Meet Into The Unknown’s Charlie Butler

Charlie Butler

Twenty-seven year-old Charlie Butler is the eldest of two boys born to Dr Malcom Butler, a Harley Street gynaecologist, and his wife, Audrey. Having always wanted to fly airplanes, he joined the Royal Air Force straight from school and has recently been promoted to Flight Lieutenant. He is handsome, he knows it, and it doesn’t bother him one bit that he has a reputation as a womaniser.

He first sees Kate Sheridan the day after her arrival in London from Ireland. Her aunt had brought her to Oxford Street to smarten her up and Charlie finds himself mesmerised by the ‘film star’ who gets out of a cab across the street from him.

It isn’t until he’s granted Christmas leave that Charlie has the opportunity to ask her out to the pictures. He behaves himself, the date goes well and, despite misgivings about getting involved with a woman during a war, he asks her out again – this time taking her to his favourite jazz club.

There, he gets the shock of his life when the beautiful woman seated opposite him lets slip that she is, in fact, a nineteen-year-old girl. Clearly dismayed by his reaction, Kate gets up to leave. Should he let the girl he is beginning to feel very strongly about walk out of the club and his life? Find out what he decides in Into The Unknown.

cropped-into_the_unknown_by_lorna_peel-fbbanner.jpg

London on 3 September 1939 is in upheaval. War is inevitable. Into this turmoil steps Kate Sheridan, newly arrived from Ireland to live with her aunt and uncle, and look for work. When she meets Flight Lieutenant Charlie Butler sparks fly, but he is a notorious womaniser. Should she ignore all the warnings and get involved with a ladies man whose life will be in daily danger?

Charlie Butler has no intention of getting involved with a woman. But when he meets Kate his resolve is shattered. Should he allow his heart to rule his head and fall for a nineteen-year-old Irish girl while there is a war to fight?

Private conflicts and personal doubts are soon overshadowed. Will the horrors of war bring Kate and Charlie together or tear them apart?

Read An Excerpt:

A couple of hours later, Charlie sank back into one of the leather armchairs which ran along a wall in the Officers’ Mess at his fighter base, his mind still on Kate’s legs and lips. He was pretty unnerved that a mere glimpse of this girl could affect him like this.

“Oi, Charlie?” He jumped as someone’s goggles hit him on the head and dropped into his lap. He looked around as Pilot Officer Billy “The Kid” Benson grinned at him. “Had a good leave?”

“It was the usual, but then…” He tailed off and frowned.

Billy laughed. “War is declared, yeah, great. It’ll be all go from now on.”

“No, it’s not that.”

“What? You don’t think the Luftwaffe deserve a good old thrashing?” Billy’s voice had risen and Charlie began to tense.

“Of course I do. It’s just that I saw this girl…”

“Ah,” Billy roared and the others sniggered. “Yet another female about to fall for the Butler banter.”

“I didn’t even speak to her.”

“Just as well, or you’ll have Doris after your balls. Bloody hell, is no woman safe? You must have little blighters running about all over the country!”

“No, I bloody don’t,” Charlie snapped, wishing he hadn’t opened his mouth. “I’m careful, which is more than can be said for you.”

“My father isn’t a bloody Harley Street gynaecologist who knows where to get condoms from.”

“Well, you should at least try and get some from somewhere. A barber’s, perhaps?”

“Charlie’s right.” A calm voice spoke from the door and they all turned in surprise. No-one had heard Squadron Leader Ralph Clarke come in and they all got to their feet to salute him. “Now we’re at war we can’t afford any…accidents. We’ll all be under pressure from now on. We all have our needs, but we don’t want to be leaving them with something to remember us by. Try, lads, I’m sure they’re not that hard to find.”

“Yes, sir,” they all mumbled, and Charlie sat back down in his chair with some satisfaction.

“Now, look.” Clarke leaned back against the door. “No lectures, but I’ll give you all an idea of what to expect. Everyone here and at Fighter Command expects your full support in whatever operations you are sent on. The plan is that we carry out two weeks of maximum effort, one week of sustained effort, followed by one week of rest. Our first objectives are raids against German warships in Heligoland—which is just off the north coast of Germany—and the dropping of leaflets, but we are not to raid Germany itself.”

There were mumblings at that and Clarke raised his hands. “Patience,” he told them, then smiled at Charlie. “Congratulations on your promotion.”

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Buy at:  TIRGEARR PUBLISHING  AMAZON  SMASHWORDS  iBOOKS  BARNES&NOBLE  KOBO

Into The Unknown can also be read via Romance Book Cloud a new subscription service for readers of all romance genres

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