Sweet Saturday

Welcome back! While I've enjoyed sharing my Christmas novella with you, this week I'd like to return to my Japanese historical novel The Samurai's Garden. I've spent the last two week promoting this book by visiting the blogs of several other authors. Many, many thanks go to Nancy Gideon, S G Rogers, Catherine Bennett, Lindsay Downs, Lisa Orchard, Diane Burton, Jennifer Lowery, Babette James, and Marsha Ward for hosting me on their blogs! 

So now that I'm settled back at my virtual home, I'm busy working on my next projects (I'll share some of those after the holidays!) as well as looking for new ways to promote my November releases.

Recently, we observed Veterans Day, and I joined with others in paying tribute to our men in uniform. It occurred to me that Hiro Tanaka and his friends provided the same kind of protection for his village as our soldiers do for us. Here's an excerpt that explains how he accomplished this:

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During one of Hiro’s unexplained absences, Hanako noticed a stranger standing silently at the edge of the field. The last time strangers came, Hiro and Ginjiro had fought them off. But this man looked more dangerous than the two ruffians who had attempted to abduct her. She looked around for Ginjiro, wondering how she could signal a warning to him. Her hands trembled as she attempted to appear unconcerned, continuing to tend to the radishes, but her eyes were not focused on her work. Faster and faster, she moved toward the end of the row away from the stranger. Quick, furtive glances assured her that the man had not moved from the edge of the field. Finally, she spotted Ginjiro, working in the next field with the ox and the ancient plow. She gave up all pretense of calm and raced to him. He looked up in surprise as she approached him.

"What is wrong?" he asked.

Hanako struggled to catch her breath as she gasped out a description of the man at the roadside. Ginjiro’s expression tightened, and he checked for his sword before heading to where she had seen him. He trod slowly, looking around for signs of other intruders, until he spied the newcomer. Then his face broke into a wide grin, and he re-sheathed his sword before running to greet the man.

Hanako breathed a sigh of relief. If Ginjiro knew this person, he was probably not a threat to her. But why would an acquaintance of his travel here? Perhaps he was a relative.

Ginjiro brought the silent man to her and introduced him as a former comrade. He had answered a request to come and help the town defend against the ronin. The newcomer was immediately invited inside for tea. Since the new house had a larger kitchen and dining area, Hanako usually prepared and served meals there. She got out her fine china cups and special tea. As she worked, she caught snippets of their conversation.

The newcomer, Watanabe-san, was younger than Hiro and Ginjiro. Like Hiro, he walked with a proud, erect posture that bespoke a life of privilege and importance. She suspected that he, too, came from a long line of samurai. She wondered what business he had with Hiro.

Hanako strained to hear the men’s conversation as she prepared the tea and a light snack. Ginjiro’s voice carried more clearly, and she could make out his words. Being a lower-level samurai, he was respectful as he spoke to the younger man.

"Watanabe-san, we are honored you came here to assist us. The ronin have caused much damage here and in other nearby towns in the last year."

"Yes, Tanaka-san told me about their evil deeds," the newcomer replied. "It is a shame that some of our kind have chosen to use their skills in dishonorable ways. It was an honor for Tanaka-san to invite me, and I was intrigued by his offer of payment."

Payment? Hiro was paying men to help fight the ronin? Hanako nearly dropped the teapot.

"I have never owned property, and since I am a younger brother, I will not inherit my family’s estate. My older brother would provide for me, of course, but a chance to have my own land was an enticement for me."

Hanako brought the tea in to the men, bowed, and left to complete dinner preparations. But she left the sliding shoji screen open just enough so she could hear more of their conversation.

So Hiro has promised land in exchange for fighting power. Such a brilliant idea. But is he purchasing this land to give to them?

"I have spoken to Fukazawa-san and Kobayashi-san, and they should arrive within the week," the newcomer continued.

The rest of the conversation was lost to her. There are more men coming! He is recruiting an army! The village will be protected! She let the rest of the conversation flow as she prepared the finest meal she could provide.

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The Samurai's Garden is available at Astraea Press, Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and Smashwords.

Thanks for stopping by! Please leave a comment, and find more excerpts by visiting the blogs of other authors. Those links can be found at Sweet Saturday Samples.

Sweet Saturday Sample

Here's another sample from my historical romance, set in 19th Century Japan. It follows the scenes shared in my samples for the last two Saturdays:

As she drank the light green liquid, she watched in amazement as he made himself at home in her kitchen. How had he learned to cook with such mastery and flair? He reached for her knife and carefully sliced the vegetables. These were placed in the hot grease to cook. When the food began to sizzle, he told her about his mission in Hakodate.

“I visited the Office of Finance. They were interested to hear about your visit from Ishikawa-san.” He paused as he concentrated on cutting a slab of beef into paper-thin slices. “It seems that he did work for their office, but that he was dismissed from his position more than a year ago.”

“A year ago? But the message came only last fall.”

“Yes. Apparently he took several items with him when he left the office, including an official signature stamp, some papers, and the enclosure ribbon. He has used them to send tax notices to people who will not question authority - widows, small business owners; anyone he thinks will take him seriously. The directives instruct the victims to send the ‘taxes’ to his own address.” He took the vegetables out of the pan and added the meat to the sizzling fat.

“He kept the money himself? How terrible. But how did you know that the bill was not official?”

“I wasn’t sure, but I became suspicious when I read the message and saw the money was to be sent to him, at an address that was not near the government offices. I paid a visit to my cousin, who is with the Department of Justice. He was able to get an edict for his arrest.”

“So I don’t have to pay the fines and taxes?”

“You do have to pay some taxes, since your husband did not pay them before he died, but they are not nearly as high as the amount Ishikawa demanded of you.”

“How much will I owe?” A knot of unease started to grow in the pit of her stomach.

“The amount was so minimal, I paid it. It will be easier for you to repay me than to send the payment to them.” He tested the vegetables to be sure they were done, and then added the beef.

Her unease flared into irritation. How could he be so arrogant as to pay her bills and demand payment? “Repay you? How can I do that? You know that I will not have any money until the harvest!”

Thanks for stopping by! The character above says "justice", one of the samurai virtues. Please leave a comment, and be sure to check out the samples offered by other great authors. Click HERE.

Sweet Saturday Sample

Here's another glimpse at my historical novel, set in 19^th Century Japan:

"The Office of Finance has realized this farm has not been registered properly in the court records. You are thereby required to pay a fine, plus the taxes due for the past five years.”

He heard Hanako’s gasp of dismay, and gave her shoulder a squeeze before bowing to the man. “Ishikawa-san, I am afraid there has been a mistake. My name is Tanaka, and this is the widow of the land owner. I am sure that she was unaware of the registration requirement, as well as the taxes.”

Ishikawa was undeterred by Hiro’s pronouncement. “Nonetheless, as the widow, she is responsible for the debts incurred by her husband. She must pay the fines and taxes, or the prefecture of Hokkaido will take ownership of the land.”

“How is it that Hanako-san was not notified of her husband’s oversight?” Hiro persisted. “She cannot be held responsible for fines of which she was never made aware.”

“She was notified by courier last fall. The missive specifically told her she had one year to pay all debts.”

Hiro turned to Hanako, who seemed to have shrunk even smaller. “Do remember receiving this message?”

She turned sad eyes up to meet his. “I remember a courier came with a message, but I had no idea that it was a demand for money. It was… just after Kenji was killed in the raid and our crops were all destroyed.”

Indignation rose in Hiro, and he inhaled deeply to keep his composure.

“How dare you come here, demanding so much from a woman who has nothing? Has she not suffered enough?” His words whipped at Ishikawa like steel shards, and the courtier stepped back as if to avoid their sting.

Backing up to his waiting chair, Ishikawa delivered one last blow. “She can have four more months, but the debt must be paid.” He scrambled into his chair and squeaked a command to his lackeys to return him to the city. His head appeared through the window as he issued a parting threat. “I will return after the harvest.”

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Thanks for stopping by! By the way, the character above says "samurai". Please leave a comment, and then enjoy more Sweet Saturday Samples by clicking here:

Sweet Saturday Sample

Welcome! Today I'm sharing another scene from my historical novel, set in 19th century Japan:

Hanako turned to look at the owner of the voice. The stranger stood head and shoulders above the unsavory Sato-san, with muscles born of hard physical work, yet his facial features radiated intelligence, and his bearing hinted at an aristocratic upbringing. The fact that he wore two swords identified him as one of the mighty warriors of the samurai class.

“I am Hiromasa Tanaka. Since I am not familiar with the merchants in this area, I sent my intended to find the livestock and supplies we need. If all is ready, I will pay you, and we will be on our way.”

“Your intended? But this woman just told me she is still grieving for her late husband,” Sato-san sneered.

“Yes, she still grieves. It is normal. But her husband was a cousin and a longtime friend. I promised him I would care for her. When she is ready, we will marry. Until then, I will take care of the business of the farm.”

Before Hanako could blink, the stranger completed the purchase and was leading the cow from the stockyard. Ignoring her frustrated glare, he indicated with a nod of his handsome head for her to pick up the cage of chickens. Without a word, he began walking down the road leading away from the village. Helpless to do anything else, she followed at the customary three paces behind him. He had the animals she wanted. Nothing would be gained by making a scene here.

Thanks for stopping by! Please leave a comment, and then sample some more great excerpts at Sweet Saturday Samples!

Sweet Saturday Sample

Welcome! Today I'm sharing another scene from my historical novel, set in Japan in the 1870s.

Hanako stood her ground and tightened her lips, struggling to maintain a measure of decorum and respect toward the unkempt man before her. The buzz of springtime activity in the marketplace faded to the back of her mind. She had work to do.

Sato-san peered down at her, a menacing scowl adding more wrinkles to his sagging jowls. Drawing himself up to the fullest extent of his limited height, he looked down his nose and deigned to speak. She managed not to cringe outwardly from the stench of his stale breath.

“And why is your husband or father not here to purchase this livestock himself?”

Hanako ground her teeth to prevent herself from lashing out at the pompous merchant. She curled her fingers into fists, lest she should give in to the temptation to claw out his eyes. Sato-san knew very well why her husband was not here to purchase his own livestock. But she needed his cooperation, so she answered.

“The men in my home live no more,” she replied. “My father has been gone these past five summers, and my husband perished during the raid of the ronin last year.”

“Then you must take a new husband.” Sato-san grinned widely, displaying the few brown crooked teeth that remained in his mouth. “You are still fairly young. Perhaps I could be persuaded to give up my bachelor ways. A beautiful widow should not be left to fend for herself on a lonely farm. Even though the shoguns have declared peace, there are still dangerous men roaming the countryside.”

Hanako had first hand knowledge of the dangers. The memory of the attack last summer still haunted her dreams. Still, the thought of becoming Sato-san’s wife was even more repulsive than the bloody memories. She willed herself not to shudder visibly.

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