The Blonde Samurai appeared on every page of the FreshFiction.com website for that day and also in the Fresh Pick Newsletter. I can’t tell you how much fun I had clicking on the Fresh Ficiton website and seeing The Blonde Samurai pop up in the corner on every page!
Iâ€™m very honored to be a Fresh Pick. According to the email I receivedâ€“â€œThe Fresh Pick is chosen by a group of readersâ€¦â€
Writing is a solitary profession, but I can tell you that as a writer, my characters make me laugh, angry at times (when they donâ€™t do what you tell them) and cry.
I remember feeling the anguish of my heroine, Katie, when she feared she would never have a child.
“Yet I was aware that by keeping separate quarters from my husband, I had doomed myself to a life left unfulfilled. The reality of what they meant raked across my heart, grabbing me, my faith shaken, my mood saddened. Would I ever know the joy, the soft smells, the magic of motherhood? A dull ache settled in my empty womb, disheartened as I was by the thought of a life of barrenness.”
Or how much she missed her Irish-American family when she first arrived in Japan.
“A maudlin homesickness seeped through the layers of my silken kimono and made me yearn for the times when I was a girl back home in our white frame house surrounded by woods, Da and Mother and my little sister, Elva, gathered around the wood fire on cold nights, eating cream cakes and listening to my father tell tall stories about what it was like back in Ireland when he was a young man during the potato famine some thirty years ago.”
How the inimitable Mr. Fawkes (an Englishman who was her go-between) made her laugh.
“Too stubborn to ask for help, my Irish pride and my bustle got the better of me when I sat down and slid off the cushion and onto the matting, my legs flying up into the air, my layers of petticoats and skirts covering my face. I was a sight to behold sprawled out on the floor, laughing, with poor Mr. Fawkes trying to pull me up without grabbing the wrong part of my anatomy.”
And how amazed she was to discover that the Empress of Japan was a charming young woman who shared her interest in fashion.
“…the Empress was openly curious about the rows and rows of lace trimming my flounces and petticoats. I was delighted when she suggested sponsoring a school to make the beautiful fabric. I knew she longed to have a red satin petticoat and white velvet gown set with off-the-shoulder cap sleeves and dotted with pearls like the one I’d brought with me from Paris.”
Then there was Shintaro.
â€œYet the first man I took to my bed after my wedding night was not my husbandâ€”or yoursâ€”but one of the most mysterious, elusive and enigmatic men in all Japan. A samurai.â€œHis name was Shintaro.â€