Saturday, February 18, 2017

Happy Birthday, Queen Mary!

February 18, 1516, was an exciting day in Tudor England. After many attempts at bearing an heir, Katherine of Aragon finally gave birth to a surviving child. Princess Mary would later become the first Queen Regnant of England, despite her father's efforts to replace her in the succession.

To celebrate, and encourage people to drop the 'Bloody Mary' nickname, I am at EHFA today with a post on this unpopular Tudor who has become close to my heart.

My novelization of Mary's story will be available April 12, 2017. You can pre-order it now on Kindle. If I can cause just a few people to look at Mary's tragic story a bit more sympathetically, I will consider this work a success.

Happy birthday, Queen Mary!

Wednesday, February 15, 2017

Hope in the Midst of War

I always enjoy finding novels that discover an interesting tidbit of World War II history to expand upon. That is what author Suzy Henderson has done in her recently released book, The Beauty Shop. She has put the spotlight on young soldiers who experienced tragic wounds and burns and the dedicated doctors who worked tirelessly to give them new lives. Read more below on Suzy's writing inspiration.

Welcome, Suzy!

~ Samantha

Guest Post by Suzy Henderson


I have been fascinated with both World War periods for many years, and I suppose having relatives who served in those wars fuelled my interest. Having spent hundreds of hours researching military history, I discovered a story I’d never heard before and became quickly absorbed. That story was about the Guinea Pig Club, and after researching it, I was hooked.

On September 3rd, 1939 Britain declared war on Germany. Although the government had hoped to avoid taking this action, preparations for war had been ongoing since 1937. The RAF had already appointed four leading plastic surgeons to run four main plastic surgery units. One of those surgeons was New Zealander Archibald McIndoe, and he chose the unit at the Queen Victoria Hospital in East Grinstead. By the time war was announced in 1939, the units were up and running. However, nothing could have prepared them for the nature of the injuries they were to face, and McIndoe, as talented as he was, often struggled with the most severe cases. He was left with no choice but to experiment and improvise, but from his experiences, he pioneered great change.

Sir Archibald McIndoe
Right from the beginning, he did not see patients; he saw young men robbed of the latter years of boyhood and the beginning of manhood. Often they had horrific injuries, some having lost their sight, and some with their faces burned away, and they were distraught, depressed and lost, fearing the worst until McIndoe came along. He always shook their hand, often lingering in hold for a few moments while he spoke with them, and nurses remarked how the men’s faces changed as if all of a sudden a huge burden lifted. The fact was, he gave them hope – the first to come along and do so. And hope is a precious gift to those who are convinced all is lost. McIndoe’s words reassured them. He gave each man all the specific details of the care and surgery they required, explaining how long it would take and assured them they would heal in time. In later years, these men have often said how they cherished that first meeting, you see, to them he was God, and some even called him that while others called him Maestro or Boss. They all had such great affection for him because he quite literally saved them.

At the very beginning of the war, McIndoe noticed that the burned pilots who were shot down and bailed out into the Channel seemed to fare much better than those who bailed over land. He deduced it was related to the salt water and so, he devised the plan for saline baths on his ward. The treatment proved to be very successful, and the salt water contributed to reducing infection and promoted wound healing while soothing the burns, enabling the men to finally relax.

As the war rolled on, more airmen became casualties. Fighter pilots, trapped in the flaming cockpits of their Spitfires and Hurricanes, and pilots and airmen of bomber aircraft flooded into hospitals all around the country. In July 1941, several bored airmen in McIndoe’s care decided to form a club. Initially, it was to be a drinking club and a way of passing the time. They called it the Maxillonians. However, one day an airman, on his way to the operating theatre for another procedure announced, “We’re just bloody guinea pigs for the Maestro.” That was it. The club was renamed the Guinea Pig Club.

As more casualties arrived, the club grew. When Fighter Pilot Richard Hillary was sent to the USA in 1942 on a propaganda mission, he raised the profile of the club, and as he too had sustained burns after being shot down during the Battle of Britain, the American citizens saw first-hand what the men had to endure. Soon, McIndoe was opening airmail with letters of support, offers of work and financial donations. He was surprised at first, but he soon realised what an opportunity this was – a chance to protect and invest in the future of his “boys”, as he called them, and so he arranged for the club to become a charity.

Ward 3 Queen Victoria Hospital, East Grinstead
McIndoe took a holistic approach to care, realising this was essential in making these men whole again. In Ward 3, the men were cocooned, under his wing so to speak. In keeping all ranks together, a tightly knit band grew, and camaraderie flourished. However, he realised that the men couldn’t stay safe forever and so he went out into the town of East Grinstead, held meetings with the locals and explained the work he was doing. Then he did something unusual. He asked for their help, appealing for volunteers at the ward, to help out with things such as letter writing, reading and chatting to the men to raise morale. Next, he asked them to invite the men to their homes for tea, and some of his more influential friends with large houses even held parties and dances. The people of East Grinstead were eager to help. McIndoe asked them to look the men in the eye and at least smile, beseeching them never to turn away or appear shocked. They understood, and so the teamwork began, and gradually the airmen gained confidence and came to realise they were safe outside too, safe and welcomed in the small country town just outside London. It was such a small step for the locals to make but for the men, it was monumental.

McIndoe also took other measures, such as allowing the men to smoke and drink beer on the ward. He recruited pretty nurses to boost morale and get the men used to speaking to beautiful girls once again, and he recruited chorus girls from London to escort the men to the pub and dances. He also called in favours with his more influential friends and secured jobs for some of the men. McIndoe quite literally covered all areas including pensions which were unfair and unjust for those who were unfit to return to active service. Through his interference, the men were granted a fairer pensionable award.

Later, after the war, the Guinea Pig Club was to prove its worth in helping some members with such things as affording suitable housing, adaptations and even granting money to help establish businesses. There were some men who, despite their injuries, were more than capable of making their own way in life. The club assisted those who were not, those with more severe injuries who required assistance.

What drew me to this story was not simply McIndoe’s exemplary, pioneering surgical work. What I saw was a philanthropist, a man who solely took it upon himself to ensure that the servicemen in his care were fully healed and accepted back into society. His brilliance lay in recognising that it would take more than surgery to heal the men. In healing their bodies and souls he had to consider their psychological and social care too.

Ward 3 at Christmas
McIndoe revolutionised the care, treatment and rehabilitation of burns survivors, and of course, as a pioneer of plastic surgery, his accomplishments formed the foundations of our modern-day burns treatments. He showed his boys how to live with their altered appearances, with their injuries, and he taught the locals how to live, interact and care for these injured servicemen.

Sir Archibald McIndoe died in his sleep on 11th April 1960, a month short of his sixtieth birthday. His colleague and mentor, Sir Harold Gillies, said “Sir Archibald McIndoe was truly one of the great heroes of the Battle of Britain. Hundreds of injured airmen have learned to live and thrive because of him, and the Guinea Pig Club is his great memorial.”


And if you're wondering about the title of my book, The Beauty Shop, I can tell you that this was the name the men gave to Ward 3 - the beauty shop was where they sent you 'to be made up again.' So you see, despite facing such tragic, dark times, and uncertain futures, under McIndoe’s wing the men thrived, and even their humour survived.

The Beauty Shop


England, 1942. After three years of WWII, Britain is showing the scars. But in this darkest of days, three lives intertwine, changing their destinies and those of many more.

Dr Archibald McIndoe, a New Zealand plastic surgeon with unorthodox methods, is on a mission to treat and rehabilitate badly burned airmen – their bodies and souls. With the camaraderie and support of the Guinea Pig Club, his boys battle to overcome disfigurement, pain, and prejudice to learn to live again.


John ‘Mac’ Mackenzie of the US Air Force is aware of the odds. He has one chance in five of surviving the war. Flying bombing missions through hell and back, he’s fighting more than the Luftwaffe. Fear and doubt stalk him on the ground and in the air, and he’s torn between his duty and his conscience.


Shy, decent and sensible Stella Charlton’s future seems certain until war breaks out. As a new recruit to the WAAF, she meets an American pilot on New Year’s Eve. After just one dance, she falls head over heels for the handsome airman. But when he survives a crash, she realises her own battle has only just begun.


Based on a true story, The Beauty Shop is a moving tale of love, compassion, and determination against a backdrop of wartime tragedy.


Connect with Suzy Henderson

Suzy Henderson was born in the North of England and initially pursued a career in healthcare, specialising as a midwife. Years later, having left her chosen profession, she embarked upon a degree in English Literature and Creative Writing at The Open University.
That was the beginning of a new life journey, rekindling her love of writing and passion for history. With an obsession for military and aviation history, she began to write.

It was an old black and white photograph of her grandmother in her WAAF service uniform that caught Suzy’s imagination many years ago. Her grandmother never spoke of her war service and died in 1980, taking her stories with her. When Suzy decided to research her family history and her grandmother’s war service, things spiralled from there. Stories came to light, little-known stories and tragedies and it is such discoveries that inform her writing today.

Having relocated to North Cumbria, she has the Pennines and the Scottish Borders in sight and finally feels at home. Suzy is a member of the Historical Novel Society and her debut novel, The Beauty Shop was released in November 2016.


Wednesday, February 1, 2017

From the Scriptorium: February 2017


February 2017 Edition

Most of my time over the past month has been dedicated to getting Queen of Martyrs ready for beta readers. I am so thankful for these wonderful people who take the time to help me make each book ready for the world! Proofs will be in their hands by the end of February so that dear Mary will be ready for her April release.

Work is ongoing on In Bed with the British as well. It is fun to work on nonfiction, and it makes me wish that I lived in the UK so that I could dedicate more time to this type of work. This anthology will be available summer 2017.

Featured Reviews


Historical fiction author Tony Riches knows his Tudors and has written his own series on the lives of Owen, Jasper, and Henry, so I am especially thrilled to receive a review from him for Plantagenet Princess, Tudor Queen.

One of those priceless beta readers has the blog of a true modern renaissance man. His review of Faithful Traitor was the very first I received and I am still thankful for it.

Post a link to your review below to see it featured in a future newsletter!

Upcoming Events


In March, I will be participating in a special event as part of the Michigan Library Association Spring Institute. Join me in Frankenmuth for great food, more Christmas decor than can be found anywhere else, and bookish conversation.

Did you miss it?


This month, I was honored to be a guest at the blog of author Annie Whitehead. She has kindly reviewed Plantagenet Princess, Tudor Queen and had some follow-up questions.

The most popular article here on my blog this month was a fun look at how Thomas Becket managed to cause some trouble for another King Henry centuries after his death.

We also took a virtual trip to Boston, Massachusetts for a look at some US history.

Important historical dates in January included the death of Catherine Valois, the woman who made the Tudor dynasty possible, and the death of Henry Pole, the unjustly executed son of Margaret Pole.


You want it? You got it!


I have several guests and historic topics planned for the coming months, but let me know if I'm missing something. What would you like to see here? All you have to do is leave it in the comments below. Happy reading!

Thursday, January 19, 2017

Another Henry in Trouble over Becket

Henry II and Thomas Becket
'Who shall rid me of this meddlesome priest?'

Whether Henry II truly uttered these words in 1170 or not, by 1538, the trouble with Thomas Becket had not been concluded. Lacking patience with his subjects looking to anyone but himself as a higher power, Henry VIII, a distant grandson of Becket's antagonist, destroyed the shrine of Saint Becket to put an end to prayers directed toward the king-defying martyr.

Just as Henry II's actions were not without consequence, Henry VIII found his irreverent treatment of religious relics and saints' remains under fire. He did not, however, model his reaction upon that of his ancestor. Where Henry II had done penance for his part in leading knights to believe he wished Becket dead, Henry VIII was not one for humbling himself.

Becket's assassination from
De Grey Book of Hours
Before destroying the Canterbury shrine, Henry VIII sent a commission to charge the saint with violating the newly enacted laws of supremacy. As if baiting his Catholic subjects, Henry ordered that Thomas Becket be given ten days to appear in his own defense against the charge of treason before the shrine would be destroyed. When the dead man predictably missed his day in court, the king ordered the grave decimated and Becket's bones burned and the remains scattered that they might not be collected for worship.

Canterbury had been the center of Christianity in England long before the martyrdom of Thomas Becket, but its popularity as a destination for pilgrims surged almost immediately after the famous priest's death. Even 368 years later, Henry VIII was offended and threatened by the people's love for the saint. He may not have anticipated the consequences of his attempt to rid himself of the cult dedicated to Saint Becket.

Condemnation for Henry came from a familiar source, his own cousin, Cardinal Reginald Pole. He had regularly written to the king to advise him in spiritual matters. It was advice that Henry did not appreciate. Pole attempted to point out that Henry II had received praise and forgiveness because of his humility and repentance after Becket's death. If he hoped that Henry Tudor would follow suit, Pole would be disappointed. But he was used to that with Henry. Pole had attempted to advise Henry on a multitude of issues related to his Great Matter, and had been repeatedly ignored. Rather than consider the Cardinal's advice, Henry called him a traitor, and Pole's family remaining in England paid the price for his words.

Pole's voice was not a lone one. Pope Paul III excommunicated Henry for his stunning actions, a step that had little effect upon the man who had already convinced himself that no one, not even the pope, had power greater than his own.

While Henry's desecration of Becket's tomb may not have silenced the voice of those who worshiped the saint any more than his break with Rome rid his country of Catholics, he could take some comfort in the estimated £1,000,000 in spoils retrieved from the shrine and given a new home within the king's treasury.

Wednesday, January 11, 2017

Historic Places: Boston



Trinity Church, Boston
I thought I would step away from the UK for a moment today and write about a historic place a little bit closer to home. Boston is one of the best places that I have visited to be surrounded by accessible history. During two trips to this city famously filled with hot-headed patriots, I have followed the wonderful Freedom Trail, which makes it easy for anyone to see all the best sights in Boston without dealing with city traffic or parking woes.

If one is staying in the city, it is easy to hop onto the Freedom Trail without the need for a car, making it far less stressful if you are anything like me and dislike driving in congested, unfamiliar places. The one warning this path requires is to be prepared to do a lot of walking. We logged about nine miles under the hot June sun.

The trail begins at Boston Commons, a public park that was established in 1634, long before the United States came to be. Instead of hangings and political debates, the Commons is now mostly host to joggers and families with small children. To follow the Freedom Trail, one must simply start here and follow the path marked out upon the sidewalks with colored bricks to the next destination.

Massachusetts State House
Directly across Beacon Street from Boston Commons is the first stop, the Massachusetts State House which is located on land once owned by the first governor of Massachusetts, John Hancock. (Yes, that John Hancock.) The dome of the State House is gilded in 23 karat gold, replacing the copper that was originally put in place by Paul Revere. (Um, yes, that one.) Completed in 1798, this is one of the oldest and grandest buildings in the US. The interior may also be toured for free. If one chooses to do so, you will see the government at work, displays of the rich history of the area, and even the famous wooden cod that was 'codnapped' in 1933 by Harvard students.

Carrying on from the State House, the Freedom Trail leads to a series of churches and burial grounds, each with its own historical significance. In the Granary Burying Ground, so called due to the grain storage building that formerly resided there, we found memorials to John Hancock, Paul Revere, and Benjamin Franklin's parents. Dedicated as a cemetery in 1660, it is estimated that over twice as many people have been laid to rest here than the markers indicate. Many are tilted and crumbling, creating a solemn atmosphere.

King's Chapel
King's Chapel and Burying Ground are the next locations along the trail. The Anglican Church was built in 1688 to promote worship in keeping with the King's wishes. Since marble is a resource not native to the US, wooden pillars were designed to give the appearance of grand marble pillars within and without the chapel. The ancient burying ground is the final resting place of several passengers of the Mayflower and the man who received far less credit for his midnight ride than his famous partner, William Dawes.

The Old Corner Book Store is the oldest commercial building in Boston. However, before one gets too excited about visiting it, I must temper that enthusiasm. While the exterior of the structure is intact with a lovely bookstore sign still affixed, the interior is the home of a Chipotle. I kid you not. This is history in the US. Ah well . . . .

Old South Meeting House
The next point of interest more than makes up for a fast-food restaurant in what should be a historic book store. When one walks through the Old South Meeting House, you can almost hear the voices raised in patriotic fervor still echoing through the air. It was here that men debated the next steps in making freedom a reality. It was here that the plot to dump 30 tons of tea into the bay was put into action. Here, among the plain white walls and wooden pews once designated for Puritan worship, men put the future, which we now enjoy, into motion.

The stops along the Freedom Trail are wonderful and historic information is presented at each one. Most buildings can be entered and explored for free or a nominal amount. I believe that I, with two of my teenagers in tow, spent less than $30 during our day. No less impressive than the designated stops are the views enjoyed while strolling through Boston.

The Old State House amid its modern surroundings
The whimsical blend of new and old is especially featured when one views the Old State House. Built to be the largest and most luxurious structure of its kind in the colonies in 1713, it is now dwarfed by the modern skyscrapers that surround it. Yet, it continues to rival those modern wonders with beautiful restoration work that enables visitors to see handmade floors and curved doors that were built to suit the unique round second floor landing. A small balcony off this second floor almost escapes notice, so unremarkable it is by modern standards. Yet it was here that the Declaration of Independence was read to an eager and anxious crowd on July 18, 1776.

That balcony overlooks the location of the Boston Massacre, which took place on March 5, 1770. In an attempt to clarify inaccurate history that is taught in schoolrooms across the nation, the Old State House has on display two paintings of the so-called massacre, demonstrating what really happened compared to the legend that Americans prefer. The fact that future president John Adams was the defense attorney for those British soldiers who were accused of murder attests to the unbalanced view that this event is remembered by.

Paul Revere House
A stroll through Faneuil Hall, where the weary tourist can buy snacks and souvenirs, brings us to the Paul Revere House. Built in 1680, this home was already almost a century old when the famous Bostonian purchased it. Though it was certainly impressive for its time, my teenagers were not impressed with the four rooms within which the Reveres had housed up to a dozen people at a time and been considered blessed to have so much space! Photos are not permitted within the home, but each room is restored to a different era of the structure's existence, giving visitors an idea of what it would have been like to live there. Some pieces are from the Reveres themselves.

Lanterns in the window of Old North Church
The cobblestone street that is scarcely wide enough for one modern vehicle carried us away from the quaint downtown area that was home to Paul Revere. Soon, we found ourselves at Old North Church, where two lanterns had testified to our midnight riders that the British were coming by sea (or rather river) and not by land. My one disappointment in visiting this wonderful old church was that we were not at that time able to climb the steps to the window where the lanterns had hung. On my previous visit, I had explored the old staircase leading to the bell tower where this small window looks out upon the city. At the top of that tower, I had seen the bells that Paul Revere had rung as a small boy.

Bunker Hill Monument
After a hot and weary day, we pressed on to the most distant points of interest along the Freedom Trail. We crossed the Charles River and were thankful for its breeze as we made our way to Bunker Hill. The monument and museum that mark the June 17, 1775 battle were visited by us 241 years, almost to the day after that historic event. No longer having enough energy to climb the steps to the top of the obelisk monument, we opted for a few moments - and ice cream - at the museum instead. In retrospect, I wish I had gained what must have been a wonderful view, but at that time my mind was upon the trek that was still required of us to make our way back to our downtown hotel.

USS Constitution ~ Old Ironsides
Before that, we had one more place to visit, and it was one that I remembered fondly from my previous visit. The USS Constitution, or as she is more often remembered Old Ironsides, currently resides at Boston's Charleston Navy Yard. Originally launched from Boston in 1797, the old warship has a comfortable home here after her battles and world travels. We traipsed onboard along with our fellow tourists and admired the craftsmanship of the oak ship even as we wondered at the idea of crossing the ocean in a ship that seems incredibly tiny by modern standards. The museum near the ship has wonderful displays and information about the history of the ship, war, and life at sea during the 19th century.

The end of the trail reached but our return voyage yet to make, my dear children and I set off. Throughout our walk, we had repeatedly seen people carrying little dessert boxes. Needing the motivation to carry on and reach our hotel, we determined that a stop at Mike's Pastry was in order. Those decadent treats and pizza were our reward when we finally crashed after our time on Boston's Freedom Trail.