Guest Blog: Lynne Tagawa and The Widow's Cloak *Prize of Print Copy to Chosen Commenter

Dear Readers,

While I love meeting new authors, I especially appreciate those who return as guests--we're a little community! Please join me in welcoming back Lynne Tagawa.

Introduce yourself—name, where you’re from, and something people notice when they meet you.

Howdy from Texas! I’m Lynne Tagawa. I’m a grandma now, and I finally decided to grow out my gray hair. So I no longer look like my official headshot. I’ve joined the silver club.

: )

Tell us about your book—title and back cover blurb.

The Widow’s Cloak: a Russell Family Novella

A prisoner alone in a land far from home…A woman who has learned she must rely on herself…Ian MacLeod loses his father in the bloody battle on Culloden moor. Captured, he is transported on a slave ship to serve an indenture of seven years. Now he struggles with bitter memories of a failed war and blames God. When his contract is sold, he meets a man with an elusive hope–and peace. And he meets a woman wearing the Campbell tartan—the colors of the enemy, a woman seemingly beyond reach. Mary Pickens’s contract is sold when the evidence of her master’s unwanted attentions appears. In the Shenandoah Valley she hears of God’s forgiveness, but in the eyes of the world, Mary’s newborn son will be despised as illegitimate. When handsome Simon McKee proposes, she gladly agrees, never dreaming what will happen next. Ian would shelter Mary if he could. Even if she were free to wed him, she has suffered many betrayals. How could he ever convince her to trust him with her hand and heart?

Share an excerpt?

Mary Pickens squeezed her rag damp-dry and ran it along the edge of the windowpane. The ritual of cleaning calmed her, settled her. Sometimes it even made her forget.

“Mrs. Byrd, would you visit the house with me? The third story is finally complete.” A too-familiar baritone issued from the hall.

Mary stilled the motion of her rag as the distant conversation between her master and mistress grew louder. They were approaching the open library door. Any nearer, and they’d see her inside.

The last thing she wanted was to appear to be eavesdropping. She was in enough trouble as it was.

“Mr. Byrd, if tomorrow suits you, then surely…”

They discussed which servants to take with them to the new mansion, even larger than this one she labored to keep clean.

“I could not do without Celia, naturally.” Mrs. Byrd’s silky voice.

“And we’ll take Chloe as well. I would pine away for her tarts otherwise.”

Mary’s heart ached. The cook was the closest thing to a friend in this place, now that her mistress’s eyes had gone cold. She dipped her rag in the bucket, squeezed it gently, then resumed her cleaning as quietly as she could.

“What about Mary?” Eliza Byrd’s tone was brittle as china.

Mary’s indenture belonged to the Carters originally, purchased as a servant for Eliza Carter to bring into her marriage.

“Well, now…” He paused.

Her pulse thundered in her ears. Of course, her fate was his decision now.

“Would you mind greatly if I sold her contract?”

His words smote Mary. What would happen to her now?

 Ask the blog reader a quirky question or two?

There is a symbol in my story, a cloak. In this case, it symbolizes the imputation of Christ’s righteousness to the forgiven believer.

Do you own something that has a symbolic meaning to you? I have a pencil holder, a gift that symbolizes a long friendship. She knows me well: the holder is in the shape of a book—To Kill a Mockingbird, one of my favorites!

Share your social media and buy links!

www.facebook.com/lynne.tagawa

X: @LynneTagawa

Website: www.lynnetagawa.com

Buy link: https://www.amazon.com/dp/1732573972

Thank you, Lynne--I thought about your question for awhile. I have many symbols, just in my office alone--there's a decorative candy box as a reminder of my husband and my trip to Belgium, the champagne glasses from our wedding, the rocking chair where I cuddled my babies. God is good!