Today I am delighted to be hosting J.R. TOMLIN on her Coffee Pot Book Club book tour to tell you about The Douglas Bastard, the first book in her historical fiction series set in medieval Scotland, Archibald the Grim.
On my blog today, you can find out more about the book, and read an excerpt…
What is the book about?
Young Archibald, the Black Douglas’s bastard son, returns from exile to a Scotland ravaged by war. The war-hardened Knight of Liddesdale will teach him what he must learn. And with danger on every side, he must learn to sleep with one eye open and a claymore in his hand because even their closest ally may betray them…
Read an excerpt…
A white gull perched on the piling in front of me. It looked pointedly at the rest of the bannock in my hand. The wind ruffled its feathers, its yellow beak a dash of contrast against the shimmering blue vista of sea and sky. “It’s mine. So begone, fat guts,” I growled and took another bite. The gull continued to stare at me with black beady eyes.
Then something moved on the horizon, a dash of white. After a minute, I made out a sail, then another and another, so small that at first, they looked like distant gulls. But they soon grew larger. I jumped to my feet, shouting, “There they are! They’re coming! They’re coming!” I did a jig, hopping up and down. “Look! See?!”
Ramsay shaded his eyes. The sun shimmering off the water was dazzling, but after a second, he said, “Aye, there are the ships.”
Then everything was noise and confusion. Around the edge of the crowd, a juggler performed to the tune of pipers and drummers. The townspeople came running. Dogs barked as they dashed after shouting boys. Girls squealed that they must see the bonnie young king. “Of course he is bonnie!” someone said, shoving a friend. Matrons in plain simple gowns scurried over, buzzing over whether the Queen was a good wife. A few fine ladies in the crowd whispered worries about if she would wear the latest gowns from France. The men-at-arms joined the throng. Everywhere people were asking if the King would lead new attacks into England now that the English were on the run. Even Sir William was chuckling with excitement. Fraser punched the air. And the size of the three sails grew ever larger.
Lines were thrown, and the first ship tied to the pilings. My pulse was pounding in my ears as I scanned the crowd on the deck. The King stood at the front of the crowd, hair windblown and with a grin so broad it was like to split his face. The gangplank was run out. He stepped onto it, and cheers rang out to rock the heavens. “King Davey! King Davey! King Davey!”
He turned and held out his hand to a thin-faced young queen. She stepped onto the gangplank with her chin raised and an anxious, serious expression. I was searching behind them but could see no sign of Will.
“Her dress isnae so braw,” a girl standing near me muttered. I shrugged. The green silk surcoat cut curved at the side openings that showed her yellow fitted sleeves. It looked very fine to me, but what did I know about dresses?
As soon as the King set foot on land, Sir William was on one knee in front of him. “Welcome home, Your Grace,” he shouted to be heard through the tumult.
Abbot William Dalgarnock stepped ashore and raised his hands. He intoned in a voice that would have rung across a cathedral, “Agimus tibi gratias, omnipotens Deus, pro universis beneficiis tuis, qui vivis et regnas in saecula saeculorum. Amen.”
I shouted, “Amen! Amen!” at the prayer of thanksgiving.
The King raised both arms over his head and shouted for silence. “My people, I can see the suffering you have endured from the violence and thefts of the English invader. I give you my oath that I will avenge them and recover what you have lost, or I will die in the attempt!”
Ramsay knelt, grasped the king’s hand, and kissed it. Then he and Sir William grasped the king’s thighs and raised him up to sit on their shoulders. The crowd went wild. “It’s our Davey! King Davey! King Davey!”
Passengers continued streaming off the ship as a second and third docked. A rotund cleric, tall and dark haired, was staring at me through the press. I frowned. He had a familiar look to him. It was someone I should know, and then I remembered him. He was the titular Lord of Douglas, Hugh, who was called the Dull to show the disgust of most nobles. What business holding great lands had someone who could not defend them? Even in France, he had spent all his time studying in a monastery. Then I shrugged. The celebration that rang with cheers and laughter was considerably more interesting than some cleric.
The King was laughing so hard he was swaying as he sat on their shoulders, and he put a hand on Ramsay’s head to steady himself, waving his other hand over his head to the crowd. The Keith and Fleming had somehow forced their way in front of the two men and started shoving people out of the way as the Keith bellowed, “Make way! Make way!” Fraser helped them open a path through the crowd, so Ramsay and Sir William carried the King through the shrieking throng.
Grooms led up a storm-gray courser and a white palfrey. When the two knights lowered the king, still grinning, to the ground, he turned to the Queen, whose bottom lip pooched out, and took her hand. “Here is your mount, My Lady.”
Malcolm Fleming rapidly dropped to a knee and made his hands into a step so she could mount, and the King steadied her.
I was pushing through the crowd to find my own horse when a voice shouted, “Archie! There you are!”
Will ran up and punched me on the arm, laughing.
He had grown to be a lanky, brown-haired youth, his open face gleaming with hints of tricks and mischief, and I topped him by half a head. I punched him back and then punched him a few more times just to show how glad I was to see him.
“You must tell me everything you have done! Have you killed anyone yet? What is it like?”
Grinning, I said, “You willnae believe—”
“Och. Look at that. If isnae the bastard?”
I turned and looked Uilleam of Ross up and down. “Aye, I am still a bastard. And I can still give you a beating if you’d like.”
“The Earl of Ross doesnae scuffle with a cook’s boy, and one day people will see you are good for nothing but scrubbing pots.”
Will’s lips curved into a mocking smile. “Afraid he will make your nose even a little more crooked for you?”
I had to laugh as Uilleam spit on the ground and stalked off, so I hit Will on the arm again.
Book details
The Douglas Bastard was published on April 26th 2022.
It is available to buy from Amazon and other outlets.
Buy links
Amazon UK • Amazon US • Amazon CA • Amazon AU
Barnes and Noble • Kobo • iBooks • Google Play
You can find the Archibald the Grim series on Amazon here:
About the author
J. R. Tomlin
J. R. Tomlin is the author of twenty historical novels.
Her historical novels are mainly set in Scotland. You can trace her love of that nation to the stories of Robert the Bruce and the Black Douglas that her grandmother read her when she was small and to her hillwalking through the Scottish Cairngorms where the granite mountains have a gorgeous red glow under the setting sun.
In addition to having lived in Scotland, she has traveled in the US, mainland Europe and the Pacific Rim. She now lives in Oregon.
You can connect with J.R. and follow her on Social Media:
Amazon Author Page • Goodreads
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Carolyn Hughes 
Thank you so much for hosting J R Tomlin today on your blog, Carolyn.
Cathie xx
The Coffee Pot Book Club
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