Rosemary Morris's Blog (9)

Seasonal Fruit from an Author’s Summer Garden I have gardened organically for the last twenty years in Hertfordshire, England. When I moved into a house with a medium size back garden overgrown with blackberries, thistles and nettles I knew I must invest time and money. So, I decided to make my money work for me. Instead of concentrating on ornamental plants I planted fruit trees. I now have a wild plum tree, a cooking apple tree, three eating apple trees, two pear trees, two plum trees and one… Continue

Murder Most Foul When the sun retired on cool evenings, purple shadows crept across the fields and villagers sat in stout, mud-brick houses either gossiping or telling stories. The elders sat closest to slow burning fires of cow-dung cakes dried during summer’s ferocity, and whenever they mentioned King Chitraketu’s name, they praised him. Yet the king found his life more barren than a desert because he had not received a son from any of his wives. Whether he resided in his capital city Mathur… Continue

Tangled Hearts By Rosemary Morris Chapter Three Richelda hurried along an overgrown woodland path, which meandered through Bellemont, her neglected estate, to a disused charcoal burner’s hut where Dudley Wynwood waited for her. ‘Thank God you are safe. Now, tell me what Lord Greaves said,’ Dudley called when she drew near him. Her mouth quivered. ‘I made a sorry mull of my business. I presented the petition to the wrong person.’ Dudley glared at her. ‘I wish you had taken my advice when I as… Continue

An Author’s Garden in August I wish I could bottle the fragrance of my garden in Hertfordshire, South East England. When I open the windows, front or back doors the perfume of lavender and roses wafts through the air. I have introduced biodiversity into the garden which bees, butterflies and hoverflies visit. Unfortunately slugs and snails also inhabit my garden. I garden veganically and combat their attacks on the vegetable patches by encouraging wildlife – flat stones on which thrushes can s… Continue

A Writer’s Plans for a Summer Day Two of my interests in life are writing fiction and gardening. These activities complement each other. For the first I need a fertile imagination, for the second fertile soil suitable for the requirements of various plants. Sometimes I think that I would be happy if I had nothing more to do than write and garden. So far, this morning has been typical of an early summer day. Here in Hertfordshire, England the sun is shining but the air is cool. As soon as I woke… Continue

Tangled Hearts by Rosemary Morris Chapter Two Chesney stepped from Lady Ware’s spacious house into King Street and walked towards Whitehall. Although the proposal to marry Mistress Shaw took him by surprise, he gave further thought to accepting it. Yet he would not wait for Mistress Shaw to come to town and parade in the latest fashions, powder and patch. Where did she live? He searched his memory. Ah, now he remembered. She lived at Bellemont. Lady Ware had mentioned the estate lay close by… Continue

TANGLED HEARTS CHAPTER ONE Fothering Place, London, England1702 Lord Chesney sat at ease in his lodgings and eyed his friend, Jack, Duke of Hertfordshire, whose tall frame was clad in extravagant silk and velvet. Gem set rings, illuminated by brilliant candlelight, adorned his long fingers and His Grace’s dark amber eyes were alert. His square face with its cleft chin looked tense while he toyed with his blond periwig. His eyes keen, Jack spoke. ‘My bailiff tells me you bought Field House.’ C… Continue

Author’s Notes When the outwardly Protestant Charles II died in 1685, he left a country torn by religious controversy but no legitimate children. The throne passed to his Catholic brother James. It was an anxious time for the people, whose fears increased when James II, became so unpopular that he was forced into exile. In 1688, James’s Protestant daughter, Mary, and her husband, William of Orange, became the new king and queen of England. Some English Protestants, who had sworn allegiance to… Continue

My infant memories are of the stories I made up, the stories read to me and the night sky coloured by fires, the aftermath of incendiary bombs. I grew up first in Kent and then Surrey from where I visited ‘the sights’ such as St Pauls Cathedral, the Tower of London, Westminster Cathedral, Dick Whittington’s stone on Highgate Hill and St James Park. In the countryside, to name a few, I visited Hampton Court, Richmond, Windsor and Eton. My heritage inspired my love of history. I read voraciously… Continue