Please give a warm Murderous welcome to my dear friend Michelle Diener!!!

Thank you so much to Karin Tabke for inviting me here today, and a wave hello to Allison Brennan and Laura Griffin, as well!

My Tudor-set historical novel, IN A TREACHEROUS COURT, released this week, and as there is a strong element of suspense in the book, and I’m visiting the on-line home of suspense here at MURDER SHE WRITES, I thought I’d talk about suspense in historicals, and  all that that entails.

For a start, because this is an historical, and I use real people in my book —  my main characters, Susanna Horenbout and John Parker, were real people, and many of the secondary characters were, too — and because I try to incorporate as much historical accuracy as possible, and won’t let my book deviate from what really happened, the suspense has to work in the context of real events.

Strangely enough, what sounds like a restriction turned into the most fun I’ve had writing. Because the real events of Henry VIII’s court in 1525, when my story is set, were wild enough, suspenseful enough, to carry any suspense plot I could think up. Weaving my made-up plot against the throne, which Susanna and Parker need to uncover while someone tries to hunt them down and kill them,  with what we know happened during that time, worked perfectly. Even though I made the plot up, it could have happened. It didn’t, but it was possible.

Fun!

It became a challenge for me to make sure the players involved were all people who had the motivation to do what they were doing, that the timeline of events worked in the context of my imaginary plot, but that I could still keep readers turning the pages.

My heroine, Susanna Horenbout, was an artist fromGhent(in modern-dayBelgium). She was trained as a painter and illuminator by her father, Gerard Horenbout, who was one of the most eminent illuminators and artists of his day. When Albrecht Dürer visited the Horenbouts when Susanna was only 18 years old, he wrote in his journal: ‘Never would I have thought a woman could draw so well.’ He was so impressed he bought one of Susanna’s paintings.

Now to our ear, Dürer’s praise may seem condescending and insulting, but given the time, and the role of women, that recognition shows just how good an artist Susanna must have been. Then, when she was around 22, it appears that Susanna was sent ahead of her family to Henry VIII’s court. The assumption has to be she was sent to work as a court painter, although no records survive as to what exactly she was commissioned to work on. That is very useful to me, as it gives me a great deal of freedom in the way I wrote the story of her arrival inEnglandand what happened when she got there. Suffice to say, I throw her into a great deal of trouble, and make her have to rely on John Parker, King Henry’s Keeper of thePalaceofWestminsterand Yeoman of the Crossbows, to protect her.

The most delightful part of this? The reason art historians know Susanna was sent ahead of her family to Henry’s court, given the lack of records of what she was there to do, is a record of her marriage to John Parker. That in itself seems mysterious. What was a powerful courtier doing, marrying a foreign artist rather than a courtier’s daughter in a political marriage? My imagination just had to come up with something.

I’d love to know, how important is accuracy to you? If you read historical suspense, are historically accurate events or social and economic context important, or in contemporary suspense, accuracy in where the book is set, or specific details of the place where the story happens? Do you care if street X doesn’t intersect with street Y, even though in the book it does? Or is that a deal-breaker for you?

Funnily enough, I’m so strict with myself on that score when it comes to my own writing, but I’m more than willing to give other authors leeway in return for a good story.

I’ve got a copy of IN A TREACHEROUS COURT to give away to one lucky commenter (US residents only, unfortunately!)

Michelle Diener

Michelle Diener lives in Australiawith her husband and two children. She’s worked as an editor, a publisher, managed a small IT business, and now writes full time. Her debut historical novel, IN A TREACHEROUS COURT, is out with Simon & Schuster’s Gallery Books this week, and the second book in the series, KEEPER OF THE KING’S SECRETS, is due for an early 2012 release. You can find out more about her at her website (http://www.michellediener.com), her group blog (http://www.magicalmusings.com) or follow her on twitter (http://twitter.com/#!/michellediener ) or Facebook (http://www.facebook.com/pages/Michelle-Diener/196593580366013 )

About the book:

Henry VIII’s most lethal courtier and his newly appointed artist become the only thing keeping him on the throne — and if they survive, neither will ever be the same.

John Parker is one of Henry VIII most useful courtiers — utterly merciless and completely loyal. But one small favour for his King will pull Parker into a deadly plot against the throne, one that will test his courage, his resolve, and most especially, his heart.

A commission from Henry VIII should have been the crowning achievement of Susanna Horenbout’s career, but before the beautiful and talented artist even sets foot inEngland, she finds herself in possession of a secret that could change its history. With Parker as her only protection against killers who will stop at nothing to silence her, Susanna has to trust the dangerous, enigmatic courtier. She’s used to fighting in a man’s world, but she never expected to be fighting for her life.

What people are saying about IN A TREACHEROUS COURT:

“IN A TREACHEROUS COURT is an action-adventure-mystery-historical that grabs the reader on page one and doesn’t let go. It reminds me of SHAKESPEARE IN LOVE in the way it captures the “feel” of Tudor England, moving with equal aplomb from royal palace to refuse-cloggedLondon streetto leaky rowboat on theThames.” http://www.kateemersonhistoricals.com  Kate Emerson, Author of BY ROYAL DECREE: Secrets of theTudor Court)

Awesome! History woven flawlessly into riveting fiction.” Tammy J. Schneider (Special Features Editor and book reviewer at “Affaire de Coeur” magazine)

“Just when readers think there is nothing new to be learned about Henry VIII, debut author Diener delivers a taut suspense . . . that will keep you turning the pages.” Kathe Robin

 (4 star review in RT Magazine August 2011 issue)

As many of you know, my youngest son shipped off to USMC boot camp in April.  Many of you may also know, I have been this side of neurotic for the entire 13 weeks he was in said boot camp.  You may also know, it took a village to get him there, but there was only one person to get him through the world’s most grueling military boot camp. The Marine Corps aren’t first in and last out for nothing.  These men and women are lean mean fighting machines. They are trained to kill. Not defensive killing but offensive I’m-coming-and-you-can-run-but-you-can’t-hide killing.  When the Marines go in, there is going to be lights out for the enemy.

Since my son has always resorted to charm when the going got tough and he didn’t feel like going, and it worked, I was concerned he was going to find out real quick that USMC DI’s have their own special brand of charm.  Let’s just say, when we flew down to San Diego and had drinks with my son’s DI’s the night before family day, we learned how Staff Sergant Jumbo remediated, among other things, Recruit Tabke’s eye rolls. I honestly wasn’t sure my son was going to have eyelids when I saw him the next day!   SSgt Jumbo (and he was Jumbo in voice, personality and his commitment to making Marines) went on to tell my husband and I that Recruit Tabke always had something to say. (Not in a disrespectful way, but he always had an opinion! Hah, wonder where he gets that from?) SSgt Jumbo also told us it was his pleasure to slay Recruit Tabke whenever the opportunity presented itself.  Here’s a guy who was one of the Marines who was first in, in Operation Phantom Fury (Second Battle of Fallujah) with bullet hole scars peppering his body to prove it, two Purple Hearts, three tours ofIraq, and too many ribbons and medals on his chest to count.  He is, in every way, the epitome of what a United States Marine DI is all about.  And I was grateful my son had the opportunity to be slain by this standout Marine.

So, coming off the RWA conference in New Yorkthen turning around to fly down to San Diegothree days later for my son’s graduation with the entire family in tow, was a huge endeavor. My granddaughter Gianna was such a little trooper the entire trip, but by the time we were on the plane heading home Friday night, she just collapsed.   Between the crazy schedule and the heat, my boo boo was done. 

Anyhoo, we flew into San Diego Wednesday morning, but didn’t get to see Will for the first time until the MOTO run (motivational run) Thursday morning around 11ish. We could hear Hotel Company in the distance, their cadence loud and proud.  It gave me goose bumps. My chest tightened and I felt overcome with emotion. I knew I was about to witness something very special. Hotel Company, 6 platoons consisting of 251 new Marines were running in tight precise formation right toward us, their gathered families. It was so quiet on our end you could have heard a pin drop.  All of us were holding our breath, our hearts pounding, waiting to see our sons, brothers, and husbands for the first time in 13 weeks.

 As my son’s platoon stopped no more than 15 feet from us, then turned and faced us, I was eye to eye with my boy for the first time in 13 long weeks. Tears erupted. I let them. My husband reached over and grasped my hand, my daughter turned teary eyes to me, Will’s girlfriend hugged me. I could do nothing but stare in amazement through my tears at this person who looked like a boy I used to know.

He couldn’t look at us, only straight ahead. Gianna was behind me on her Uncle Jeff’s shoulders and yelled, “Uncle!” That did it for Will. He cracked a shadow of a smile.  When she started blowing him kisses with both hands, everyone around us just fell apart.  It was one of ‘those’ moments.

To say I was astounded by what  I beheld, would be an understatement  Not only had my new Marine lost what turned out to be 29 pounds, but the man standing at attention before me was honed razor sharp and disciplined.  He was amazing to watch as the DI’s put them through one command after another. An hour later, showered and uniformed they marched in formation out onto the parade deck, where after several commands they were finally released to see their families.  I think I was the first mom to get her hands on her son.  He felt so good, what was left of him!  As I hugged him telling him how much I loved him, he said, “Mom, I love you too, but don’t get your tears on my uniform!”

My son has always been fastidious about his clothing.  Now he was anal. But boy did he wear that uniform with pride.

We were all able to spend the next 5 hours on base with him. It was a great time, albeit hot as hell! I couldn’t stop staring at him or listening to him or watch him interact with his fellow Marines.  And while he was so much the same, there were differences.  Some subtle, some not.

He was quieter than usual, more dignified, more disciplined, more aware of the honor bestowed upon him. The honor he earned. And so very proud of it all.  Everything about him screamed pride.  Marine Corps pride.  When I asked him how he did on his final written exam (think SAT a la Marine Corps) he smiled and said, “A 96.” 

“A 96 out of….?” I asked.

“100,” he replied. 

I smiled and said, “Funny how that happens when you actually study.”

He flashed me that million-dollar smile of his, and said, “Go figure.”

FYI Will never studied a day in his life!  Remember, it took a village.

Saying goodbye Thursday evening wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be.  I knew I would see my son the next morning and be able to take him home with me.  But I wasn’t prepared for the pomp, ceremony and pageantry of the graduation. When his Company marched out onto that parade deck Friday morning in their dress uniforms, I lost it again.  When Will came into view, my heart swelled with such pride I could not speak. Tears followed. Tears of a mother whose son had arrived. Tears of pride.  Tears of fear. Tears of love. Words cannot express the emotions that careened through me at that moment in time.  I still can’t define what I felt. What I still feel.

Will slept most of the way home, but his cell phone was blowing up.  Everyone in town was calling to see him. He and his gf took off minutes after we arrived home and didn’t return until late. 

Saturday morning, William took me aside and said, “I have something for you, Mom.”

He sat me down at the kitchen table and said, “Open your hand.”

I did, and he dropped his spare set of dog tags onto my palm and closed my fingers around them. With his hand wrapped around mine, he said, “I never would have been brave enough to do this if you hadn’t shown me what being brave was.  I love you, mom.  Thank you for everything.  I wish there was some way I could repay you.”

I couldn’t speak.  I just felt so, full.  I could not have said a word if all our lives depended on it.  He hugged me and said, “It’s ok.” And that did it. I fell apart.

When I finally was able to speak, I simply said, “You are my payment, Will. You always have been.”

Sigh. Those dog tags are now my most precious material possession.  I took one off, the one that goes on his boot, and put it with my Celtic cross necklace I always wear. 

To say it has been emotional around here is an understatement. I’m just glad he was able to spend his entire 10 day leave with us. He returned to Pendleton this past Tuesday, to SOI,SchoolofInfantryfor MCT, Marine Combat Training.  He’ll spend the next month there, then ship off to Lejeune for more training and schooling. Once his schooling is complete, he’ll be assigned to a unit.  I’m praying the unit he’s assigned to will be in Pendleton or 29 Palms, both of which are within driving distance. But I doubt I will be so lucky.

To say these last few months have been an adventure is to put it mildly.  The day my son marched across that parade deck as a United States Marine was the proudest day of my life.  I know it was for my son too.  It may have taken a village to get that boy to boot camp, but it took a man and then a Marine to ‘kill it!‘

So, tell me, to date, what has been the proudest moment of your life?

It’s been one of those weeks.  In fact, since my kid left for boot camp in April, every week has become one of those weeks.  Not a bad week, but a week I want gone to get me one week closer to seeing my boy!  (for those of you who don’t  know [snerk as if!  It's all I talk about] my youngest son graduates USMC boot camp Friday, July 8^th.)

I’m thinking this 13 week separation has been one of the most difficult things I have had to endure in my life. And, please, don’t tell me it’s the same as a kid going off to college.  Been there and done that. Oldest son went to college in Oklahoma on a football scholarship.  We talked all of the time, he flew home, a lot!  There was never a loss of contact.  That aside, I knew where my son was, what his schedule was and if he were sick or needed something, I knew about it.  I found out my recruit son had freakin’ pneumonia a week after he had it, but refused to go to medical because he didn’t want to miss firing week!  The next week he ended up with pink eye and missed a few days in the mountains until it cleared up.  He was furious he was not with his platoon, never mind he was able to rest a little bit. I paced for two weeks until I knew he was feeling better!

It’s the not having instant access to him that is so hard.  The not knowing if he is being dumb and not getting medical attention when he needs it. 

He told me in a recent letter he had to get his boots resoled because he had marched the soles off.  Wow.  How much marching is he doing?  He was at his required weight when he went in but has lost an additional 20 pounds as of two weeks ago.  But I have to tell you, I saw a recent picture of him doing final drill, and his arms are hella cut!  He is all lean-mean-fighting-machine muscle.  That M16 he has to lug around is huge!  But I digress. 

The Marine Corps allows only letters during boot camp.  No cell phones, face book or texting from the moment he got on that plane to San Diego. Hell, he wasn’t even allowed to take a cell phone! Letters only and they don’t receive them regularly (even though his dad, gf and I write constantly). 

The good news is, my mail lady has not had a restraining order issued against my husband or myself.  Every mail day we lay in wait for her truck to pull up, salivating for one of those little USMC envelopes we have become addicted to.  It really is sad.  Sadder still when his gf gets a letter and I don’t! I’m telling you, it hurts.  Luckily, he sends those letters here. Usually within 7 minutes of the You’ve Got a Letter text, his cutie-patootie gf is roaring into our driveway.  And she reads us what she can.  That boy sure can write some mushy stuff. Who knew?

Needless to say, my son is thriving while I just pace and wish I could at least hear his voice.  Next week while I’m in New York he will embark on his three day Crucible. When he wraps that up Thursday morning, he will officially be a United States Marine.  No more recruit but a Marine!  The emblem ceremony following is private, followed by a warriors’ breakfast. Oh, what I wouldn’t do to be a fly on that wall!

So, for those of you going to New York next week, if you happen to see me floating by on Thursday, you’ll know why.  J

I can’t explain the pride I feel for my son.  For all Marines.  I also discovered something very cool: As a very soon to be Marine mom, I have a whole other family out there I never knew I had! The Marine family. Talk about warm and welcoming!  Wow.  Amazing.

 And you know what else is really cool?  I have a Marine whose head I can tap into whenever I need to! I see a few Marine heroes in my writing future! 

Ooh Rah!

So, tell me, what is your favorite background for a hero?

So what’s going on with everyone?  My life has been a chaotic swirl of crazy.  My son graduates boot camp four weeks from today, and in between then and now, I have so much to do, I’m really not sure I will get it all done.  One thing I am very grateful for is the help of my most awesome assistant, Bonnie. I love her big time.  I’m so lucky to have her to keep me on task, but luckier to have such a wonderful friend. God was looking out for me the day I met her.  Thanks, God!   J

He’s also been keeping an eye on my boy in bootcamp.  The kids is kicking ass and taking no names.  I always knew he was tough. He’s classic Marine material, but, he has a wee issue with authority and well, I was hoping he’d keep his eyes forward, ears open and his mouth shut. Apparently, he learned that real quick and learned it well.  His letter today opened with: ‘As you can see Mom and Dad, I’m doing really well.’ I can’t wait to see that kid!

My granddaughter is sunshine amplified.  She was baptized last Saturday. Finally a child of God.  My daughter took her time getting it done!  My eldest son and eldest daughter are Godparents. Speaking of my eldest daughter, she’s getting married in October and the first of several bridal showers is this Sunday.  I went shopping for her today. I said, screw it, I’m not buying place settings or flatware for this shower, I went to Victoria’s Secret and cleaned them out. 

Hubby has been busy with his football camps.  This year, despite the lousy economy, it looks like it will be his biggest year yet.  We also came to a big life decision the other night at dinner: we’re going to downsize.  The big house is going up on the market.  Not sure when that will happen, but I suspect by the end of the year we’ll be in smaller digs.  My kids aren’t happy about it, but it’s time.

I’m working on BLOOD RIGHT, and just wrapped up copy edits for WANTED, my novella in the MEN OUT OF UNIFORM antho I’m in with Syl and Maya Banks.  It comes out in October.  My hero in this story, Colin Daniels, is a charmer. Alpha for sure, but he has some great lines.  I found myself smiling a lot when I wrote that story. 

Tonight Allison is spending the night (can you say margaritas?) Saturday night, hubby and I are hosting a beer pong tournament at our house!  Yep, beer pong, but since us girls don’t really like beer, we’re making margos to go in the cups. The guys can have their beer. Sunday is the bridal shower, gawd I hope I don’t wake up with a hangover. :/

Next week starts with a bang. I’m going to be hanging out at some special blogs and Hubby’s first camp begins June 17^th, his second camp ends on the 26^th.  We fly to NYC early the next morning. Back home on July 3^rd, then down to San Diego on the 6^th, my son’s graduation is on the 8^th then back up here right after.  He gets 10 days off before he has to report to Pendleton. It’s going to be hard to say goodbye again, but at least now we will be able to talk on the phone, skype and email. 

 There will be no time for vacation this summer. There are more bridal showers scheduled in August, I fly out to Philly mid month for the Author’s After Dark reader weekend, and then we are into September, which is another busy month.  My daughter gets married in October and then we’re into the holidays.

 Whew, crazy.  I’m going to try and do something this year I have never done before:  Have all of my Christmas shopping done before December 1^st! Hah!  Do you think I can do it?  How many of you do get it all done before December 1^st?

 Any plans for this summer?  Share, I feel like I have been out of the loop for, forever!  Oh, wait, I have!

Karin*

It’s me, Karin. Yeah, I know, you’re probably scratching your head and asking, “Karin who?”

That’s ok, go ahead, release your sarcasm, embrace it.  I deserve it.  I mean, when was the last time we sat down and just talked?   Just the two of us, one-on-one, face-to-face, me relaxed, smiling, sipping my coffee, you, happy and chatty, telling me all about your day, grateful that I haven’t put you on hold, said, excuse me, I need to answer the door, or skipped over your email or not returned your three dozen voicemails?

Oh and that fb message?  Yeah, well, I figured after two months you had assumed I must have deleted it by mistake.  And those chapters you sent me months ago and asked me to turn around because you wanted to send the proposal to your agent before she left for the entire month of May?  Oops.

Dear, Oldest and Dearest Friends, I love you. You are my rocks, my go-to girls, my calm in the storm of this crazy business. Yes, I know I have an odd way of showing it.  I should have responded to the email where you asked if I was freakin’ still alive?!  Actually, I should have called.  Oh, and to my bestie, all of that work you do for me because you are just that wonderful?  I’ve been meaning to send you flowers and Godiva chocolate, but, you see, I suck and haven’t.

Dear, Hubby, I’m really sorry, I haven’t looked at those chapters you have been asking me to look at for two months now.  I know I told you I would do it first thing after I wrapped up my revisions.  And, well, yes, they have been done for seven weeks now, and I meant to take a look, but, well, what can I say, I suck.  I love you. I promise I will get to them as soon as I’m done writing this blog. Really. Cross my heart and hope to die…

Dear, BLOOD LAW, I’m really sorry I haven’t pimped you the way you deserve to be pimped.  I know, I know, I did a crazy blog blitz with ENEMY LOVER, and yes, I did have those cool L.O.S.T. mugs made, and yes, you’re right, I had bookmarks made for ENEMY LOVER too.  I’m sorry I didn’t do the same for you, I’ve been busy.  Would it mean anything to you if I told you, that out of all of my books you are the most controversial and kick-ass, and that as I wrote you, I felt emancipated?  I can’t say that to the other books.  Only to you.  xo

Dear, Yahoo Loops, I’m really sorry I have been MIA. If I were honest, I’d tell you I’m just wrung out and plain old tired.  That my job is sucking the life out of me, and that I have very little left at the end of the day.  I try to pop in and say, hello, or answer pertinent questions or lend a quick helping hand, but I know that isn’t enough most of the time.  I promise to do better.

Dear, Accumulated Email, I’m really sorry you have been waiting so long to be returned.  You must have a complex by now.  I’ll pay for therapy. In the mean time, I promise I’ll try harder to return you. 

Dear, Readers, I vacillate over words, characters, plot, pace and settings. I write until the wee hours of most nights. Then rewrite, and rewrite again. I live on coffee, chocolate and your demand for more of my books.  Yeah, my life is crazy. I get tired, worn out and sometimes just want to walk away from the laptop, but I always come back.  My love affair with romance will always bring me back.  Like an addict who loves their drug, I say, screw rehab. I love the high, the thrill, and even the crash that comes after because once I crash, then I can get my next fix and do it all over again, and I live for this shit.

Dear, Friends and Family, thank you for putting up with my lousy behavior. Thank you for still loving and supporting me despite my lack of involvement in your lives these past months.  I could not do it without you because as much as I love the thrill of my job, it would mean nothing without you all in my life. So, I guess we’re kind of stuck with each other.

In closing, I invite you to tell me where you have slacked lately and your plans to remedy it.  I mostly want to know this because it might make me feel a little better knowing I’m not the only slacker friend and or family member out there. 

xoxo

Karin*

PS, to my Marine Recruit son, Will, I love you, baby! We’re on the downside of that gigantic mountain you just climbed! Stay strong, stay focused, and keep kicking ass.  Ooh rah!