As many people obtain their historical knowledge from movies
and books, I find it important to be as accurate as possible with my writing.
I’m also a history lover who has a bit of an obsession with accuracy and
details. My husband claims I’m a bit of a perfectionist. Although I usually
deny his accusations – vehemently – he may have a point in regard to historical
details. Writing a historical fiction novel is, therefore, an exercise in
research as well as a labor of love for me.
I have a degree in Modern European History, so writing about
1930s Germany isn’t too much of a hassle for me. This era is already heavily
researched and recorded, and that information is readily available. I also
speak German, which opens a plethora of additional research opportunities. With
regard to the opening scenes of Searching
for Gertrude, which take place in 1930s Germany, it was only a matter of
checking details to ensure accuracy. For example, the Law for the Restoration of the Professional Civil Service, which
was enacted in 1933 by the Nazi Government, plays a crucial role in the novel. I knew of this law, which essentially
kicked all Jews out of civil service positions, but I wasn’t sure if this
included university professors and which year the law was enacted. Those are
the kind of details I needed to research about German history.
The majority of the novel plays in Istanbul and researching
Turkish history was an entirely different kettle of fish. Although I like to
think I have more knowledge of Turkish history than the average joe as I lived
in Istanbul for two years, my knowledge of the country during the Second World
War was severely limited. Researching Turkish history turned out to be
incredibly difficult. Hardly any materials can be found in English and the
accuracy of information on the Internet is suspect. I actually put off writing
this book several times due to these issues.
Then, I literally stumbled upon Murder at the Pera Palace by Charles King at a used bookstore. This
non-fiction account of the birth of modern Istanbul was the real start of my
research into writing Searching for
Gertrude. After devouring this book, I found I had more questions than
answers. Again, the internet was no help as there were either no answers to
questions I posed or there was conflicting information. Finally, I discovered a
non-fiction treatise written by a German professor of Turkish studies that had
been translated into English. Turkey, the
Jews, and the Holocaust by Corry Guttstadt was my saving grace. Not only is
the book chockfull of information, but it is well annotated allowing me to
research any further questions I had.
Even with the two wonderful books mentioned above, I
couldn’t have finished this novel without external help. Many of the primary
sources Guttstadt refers to are in Turkish. Lucky for me, my husband is still
working in Turkey and was able to connect me to colleagues of his who were
willing to help me puzzle things out. This is when my attention to detail became
a stumbling block. For example, I quote the morning call to prayer in the
novel. However, I was aware that there was a short time in which the adhan was performed in Turkish. But what
years? And what were the exact words of the adhan
In the end, I spent seven months researching and writing Searching for Gertrude. This may not
seem long to some people, but I write full-time and usually finish a novel in
three months. Spending more than double that time was a huge endeavor for me. Although
I’m returning to the murder mystery genre for my next novel, I already have
several historical fiction novel ideas floating around in my subconscious. Who
knows what idea will come to fruition?
About the Author in her words...
I grew-up reading everything I could get my grubby hands on, from my mom's Harlequin romances, to Nancy Drew, to Little Women. When I wasn't flipping pages in a library book, I was penning horrendous poems, writing songs no one should ever sing, or drafting stories which have thankfully been destroyed. College and a stint in the U.S. Army came along, robbing me of free time to write and read, although on the odd occasion I did manage to sneak a book into my rucksack between rolled up socks, MRIs, t-shirts, and cold weather gear. After surviving the army experience, I went back to school and got my law degree. I jumped ship and joined the hubby in the Netherlands before the graduation ceremony could even begin. A few years into my legal career, I was exhausted, fed up, and just plain done. I quit my job and sat down to write a manuscript, which I promptly hid in the attic after returning to the law. But being a lawyer really wasn’t my thing, so I quit (again!) and went off to Germany to start a B&B. Turns out being a B&B owner wasn’t my thing either. I polished off that manuscript languishing in the attic before following the husband to Istanbul where I decided to give the whole writer-thing a go. But ten years was too many to stay away from my adopted home. I packed up again and moved to The Hague where I’m currently working on my next book. I hope I’ll always be working on my next book.
As usual, the clerk rushed out of the room as soon as it was lunchtime the next day. Rudolf waited until the other administrative workers had left, and then he waited an additional five minutes to make sure no one was coming back. He didn’t sneak over to the clerk’s desk. He strolled over as if he had business to which he needed to attend even as his palms sweated and his heart beat erratically. He tugged on the drawer to ensure it was locked before pulling the letter opener out of his pocket. He looked around to ensure he was still alone before kneeling in front of the drawer and sticking the letter opener in the tiny lock. With only a bit of jiggling, the lock clicked open. As quietly as he could, Rudolf pulled the drawer open and peeked in. Sure enough, the cabinet keys were sitting in the tray on the top of the drawer. He slid the drawer closed and went to stand. That’s when he realized his mistake. The drawer had to be locked when the clerk arrived. Otherwise, he would immediately assume something was wrong.
Rudolf kneeled in front of the closed drawer and once again stuck his letter opener in the lock. If the letter opener could unlock the drawer, it stood to reason it could also lock it. It took quite a bit of fiddling made worse by his shaky hands before he felt a click. He heard the clacking of boots on tile and jumped to his feet while thrusting the letter opener in his pocket. The sound came closer. He didn’t have time to check the lock was engaged. He rushed in the opposite direction of the approaching person, entering the hallway on the far side of the office. He walked to the toilet and waited until he was locked in a stall before he dared to take a breath. He leaned against the stall door and took deep breaths while his heart slowly went back to its regular rhythm.
After he managed to gain some semblance of calm, he splashed cold water on his face before returning to his desk where he waited for the clerk to arrive. Was the desk drawer locked? Would the clerk know someone had tampered with the drawer even if it was locked? It took all of Rudolf’s willpower to not constantly glance at the clerk’s empty desk. When the clerk finally arrived, Rudolf tilted his chair in the clerk’s direction and waited with bated breath. But nothing happened other than the clerk unlocking his desk after sitting down. Rudolf waited for the man to notice things were amiss. It took several hours before he realized the clerk was not going to notice anything, and he could relax. He could breathe for the first time since lunch and got back to work.
* I usually avoid Kickstarter projects. This however is one I strongly believe in, not only because I am a huge fan of Victoria's writing but also because her stories are such, so high quality that they stay with you.
looking for a story that’ll make you feel the lush beauty and thrill of true
love, while taking you on a pulse-pounding journey through history?
what you’ve been waiting to read. And to experience. Because you can be a part
of bringing this story into existence.
you’d been there when Suzanne Collins was writing The Hunger Games or Stephanie Meyer was writing Twilight. When George RR Martin was
penning Game of Thrones. You might
have lived the story through advance copies and maybe a conversation or two.
When you join me on BREATH, you can receive advance copies, artwork,
photographs, and short, BREATH-inspired love stories that only a handful of
readers will ever lay eyes on. You will receive regular updates from me about
how BREATH is coming to life.
Nif and Sherin are
Ninti. They share a deep and powerful devotion that puts them both in mortal
danger, while propelling them towards an extraordinary fate that ensures they
will live infinite human lives...and suffer an equal number of deaths. Together
they must solve a mystery that spans the ages, or risk losing one another
is a story of lovers, killers, curses and destinies. It's about the people who
lived history, but it's also a tale of those who unearthed history in order to
preserve and understand its legacy.
get to travel with Nif and Sherin during their adventures, but you'll also be
present alongside the past and future archeologists who are driven to solve the
puzzle of their existence.
BREATH an amazing, immersive, world-building experience, the novel will need
original art work, award-winning editorial direction and design, plus vintage
photography from some of the greatest archeological expeditions the world has
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your support, BREATH will become a story you can't do without. One of the three
things you'll grab and save if you ever have to run out of your burning house
in nothing but your underwear.
Victoria Dougherty is the author of
THE BONE CHURCH, THE HUNGARIAN, WELCOME TO THE HOTEL YALTA and COLD.
A writer and consultant with Dougherty
Dialectic since 2001, she has ghost-written articles, speeches and testimony
for Fortune 500 executives, and taught multiple seminars on writing. Her
journalism and essays have been published in the Chicago Tribune, the Prague
Post, and the Sunday edition of the New York Times. Victoria has also written,
translated, and produced television news segments and video scripts.
Earlier in her career, while living in
Prague, she co-founded Black Box Theater, translating, producing, and acting in
to sold-out audiences in several Czech plays – from Vaclav Havel’s “Protest” to
the unintentionally hilarious communist propaganda play “Karhan’s Men.” Black
Box Theater was profiled in feature articles in USA Today and numerous European
Her blog – COLD* (www.victoriadougherty.wordpress.com) – features her short essays on faith,
family, love, and writing. WordPress, the blogging platform that hosts over 70
million blogs worldwide, has singled out COLD as one of their top Recommended
Blogs by writers or about writing.
Forgotten Warrios is the story of the aphibious march across the Pacific from the Aleutians to Okinawa from the experiences of shipmates aboard the USS J. Franklin Bell which includes the surprise attack on Pearl Harbor and the following battles: The Aleutian Campaign (Adak, Attu and Kiska); The Solomon Islands Campaign (Guadalcanal, Bougainville); The Coral Sea Battle (Naval Battle); The Battle of Midway (Naval Battle); The Battle for Tarawa; The Battle for Kwajalein; The Battle for Eniwetok; The Marianas Champaign (Saipan, Tinian, and Guam); The Battle for Leyte; The Battle for Iwo Jima; The Battle for Peleliu; The Battle for Okinawa. Refresh your memory with the what, where, when and why for each of these battles, the listing of the Medal of Honor Awardees for each battle, as well as a listing of casualties. Also included are the contributions made by Coast Guard, Submarine Service, and Seabees as well as the women of the USA toward victory over the Japanese in World War II.
It seem like we celebrate Normandy every year, which we should, but when have you heard about Peleliu, Tarawa, Tinian etc.During the invasion of Peleliu we had 3201 more casualties than D-Day at Normandy. At Tarawa 2 out of 3 marines never made it to the beach. Admiral Spruance called the invasion of Tinian the most brilliant amphibious operation of WWII. The two fake landings on the most suitable beach on the South caused the Japanese to move their troops in that direction, which allowed us to land on the North less desirable beach, with minimum resistance. I know this for a fact because I was there.
The book covers all major battles in the Pacific where statistic shows that when we are compared to our counterparts that fought in the European Theater we were 5 times more likely to be killed; 3 times more likely to be wounded and twice as likely to end up being a POW.
We fought a different kind of enemy in the Pacific. If the Germans or Italians were surrounded they surrendered. But, the Japanese would charge with or without a weapon. That explains why our wounded to death rate was 3 to 1. For the Japanese it was the reverse of 18 killed to each one wounded.
The book recognized all the Medal of Honor that were awarded in the Pacific with a brief description of why each was awarded.
About the Author
D. Ralph Young was born in central Kentucky in 1925 and was raised on a farm in Lincoln County. He served as a Gunner's Mate on the USS J Franklin Bell for nearly 3 years during WWII.
After military service he obtained an engineering degree from the University of Kentucky. He was involved in developing electric power systems all over the USA as well as the Middle-east and South-east Asia. He retired to his place of birth in Kentucky 3 times before really calling it over from an active engineering career to become an author and write 2 books. The Power of a Mothers Prayer and Forgotten Warriors.
In 2006 he was inducted into the University of Kentucky, College of Engineering Hall of Distinction
Publisher: Forget Me Not Romances, Winged Publications
What happens in the roaring twenties when a daredevil barnstormer falls in love with a wing-walking flapper threatened by dangerous men out to exploit her?
Orphan and wing-walker Gloria needs a job when her boss dies in a barnstorming accident. With no other jobs available, she sweet-talks Rand into letting her walk his wing. Flying Ace Rand fights wartime injuries that hamper his flying even as he works to gain the world-record for solo flight across the Atlantic. He bucks his wealthy dad’s plans for him to settle down, join the company, and marry a socialite.
Rand falls in love with the courageous, fun-loving, and daring Gloria. But Orphan Gloria’s experienced too many men who promise love and marriage and instead take advantage of her being alone in the world. She holds Rand at arm’s length. Without her knowledge, Rand protects her and makes sure she doesn’t starve. When Gloria’s offered a movie contract Rand knows he must intervene.
Kill Devil Hills, 1925
Gloria plodded from the bathroom into the bedroom. “Daisy, we’ve no food in the cottage, so I need to have a heart-to-heart chat with Mr. Rand Maitland. He’s exactly the type of older man I prefer to work with.” She bent to pat the blonde puppy’s head. No more fending off amorous bosses. “I need to find another partner like Buzz.” A tear slipped from her eye and wiggled down her cheek. “I miss you, Buzz. If you were still alive, I wouldn’t be in this mess. Thanks to Vincent and his lies, no other pilot will hire me.”
Gloria swiped a fist across her cheek to wipe the tears and snagged her only dress from a hanger, leaving the small closet empty. “I’ll force myself to be amusing and cheerful. Older men like that.” Anything to improve her chance of getting a job. According to Annie, Rand Maitland had been an ace fly boy during the war. She could trust his acrobatics.
She perched on the edge of the sagging bed, pulled shiny, silk stockings just above her knees and rolled in the garters. She stood and slid into the white dress that ended in a shocking way just below her knees. Well, older men liked that too. She’d need every advantage to capture this job.
Suited her just fine she didn’t need to flatten her bosom because God hadn’t overly endowed her. In her line of work a voluptuous bust got in the way. She reached behind her back to zip up her dress. Easy, because the fabric draped open to below her shoulder blades in the rear. Scandalous in the daytime, but she only had this one gown or her trousers. “Trousers won’t impress the old man, Daisy, and I can’t wear my costume. Being broke is just tedious.” She smoothed the drop-waist dress and settled on the edge of the bed to slip on red, high-heeled shoes. She stood and pivoted in front of her blonde puppy. “How do I look, Daisy?”
Though her might-be-new boss lived close, she’d borrow Annie’s Model T roadster. “Rand Maitland’s bound to have his Jenny tied-down near the sand runway, and I don’t want to get grit inside my only pair of dress shoes.”
Daisy raised a paw to be shaken. Gloria smiled, bent and shook the furry offering. She didn’t need the auto since Kitty Hawk wasn’t more than five hundred yards or so from Annie’s cottage near Kill Devil Hills, but Mr. Maitland would be more impressed if she drove. He mustn’t know how desperately she needed this job or he wouldn’t hire her. Her high heels tapped a determined rhythm on the uneven linoleum as she crossed the living room. She shut the door behind her and marched down the rickety wooden stairs to the beach. Stepping carefully to keep loose sand out of her shoes, she tiptoed around the cottage to where Annie had parked her Model T before she left for Europe. Gloria bent, cupped the crank handle on the front of the car in her palm, pulled the choke wire with her left hand and gave the crank a quick half-turn. The engine sputtered to life. Her shoes slipped on the sandy driveway as she minced on tip-toes around to the driver’s seat and climbed inside.
She drove close to the three bi-planes tied down just beyond a cluster of larger cottages on stilts. Too late to turn back. She’d forgotten to apply that new chalk-white face powder that was all the rage. Nor had she painted her lips red. She’d wanted that color to bolster her confidence and hide her pain. She shook her head and shrugged. Well, she had a stiff spine and didn’t need to paint on courage. She pulled up next to the closest home, stopped the automobile, turned off the ignition, set the brake, and slipped out the door. Just off the road, her red high-heels sank into loose sand. “Ain’t we got fun?” she murmured dryly. Her shoes had survived worse obstacles. These red high heels would outlast this setback too.
In the slanting morning light, three visiting biplanes cast long shadows. All the other planes, snug inside hangars, waited for tomorrow’s barnstorming show. A man wearing blue coveralls with his back to her, bent over the engine casing of the middle Jenny. Annie had mentioned Mr. Maitland named his plane Jazzman, so that big fella had to be the man himself, right where she thought she’d find him. Taking giant steps through the sifting sand between her and the hard-packed sand beneath the Jennies, she stopped directly behind him. She tugged her red cloche hat low over one eyebrow, held down the silky skirt flapping in the breeze, and straightened her shoulders.
“Hello!” She highlighted her voice to sound perky. Older men liked perky. The man grunted, tightened a bolt on the engine with a large wrench and then turned. She started, her hands flew up, and she almost lost her footing. Annie hadn’t mentioned her husband’s youngest brother was gorgeous. He flashed a smile. Dimples played around that dazzling grin and found an immediate place in her heart. He stared at her with eyes bluer than the bluest lapis. And he was no older man.
Too bad for her. She pressed her lips together. She’d so counted on Mr. Maitland being older. She’d learned her lesson about handsome men.
And she better make sure she remembered it.
About the Author
ANNE GREENE's home is in the quaint antiquing town of McKinney, Texas, just a few miles north of Dallas.
Her husband is a retired Colonel, Army Special Forces. Her little brown and white Shih Tzu, Lily Valentine, shares her writing space, curled at her feet. She has four beautiful, talented children who keep her on her toes.
She's traveled to every location of each book she's written, and each book is a book of her heart. Besides her first love, writing, she enjoys travel, art, sports, reading, sailing, snorkeling, movies, and way too many other things to mention. Life is good.