15 Jul Debra Borchert Her Own War #HerOwnWar #DebraBorchert #ChateauDeVerzatSeries #BlogTour #TheCoffeePotBookClub @cathiedunn

FEATURED AUTHOR: DEBRA BORCHERT

I‘m delighted to feature author Debra Borchert again in The Coffee Pot Book Club Blog Tour being held between July 15th – 26th, 2024. Debra Borchert is the author of the Historical Fiction, Her Own War (Château de Verzat Series, Book #3), released by Le Vin Press on  July 14^th, 2024 (438 pages).

Below are highlights and editorial reviews of Her Own War, Debra Borchert’sauthor bio, and an excerpt from her book. 

Tour Schedule Page: https://thecoffeepotbookclub.blogspot.com/2024/06/blog-tour-her-own-war-by-debra-borchert.html

HIGHLIGHTS: HER OWN WAR

Her Own War
(Château de Verzat Series, Book #3)
By Debra Borchert

Blurb:

As Napoleon Rises from the Ashes of The French Revolution, One Woman Dares to Spy Against Him

Sentenced to eight months in an insane asylum for the crime of impersonating a man, Geneviève LaGarde fears giving birth in a filthy cell will mean certain death for her and her unborn child. Desperate for her release, her husband, Louis, trades his freedom for hers and must join Bonaparte’s army in Egypt.

As Geneviève wages her own war against the tyrannical general, she not only risks her own life but also those of her children and the four hundred families who depend on the Château de Verzat estate. Knowing her desperate actions could cause the government to confiscate the entire vineyard, she sacrifices everything to save her husband and protect the people who become her family.

A captivating tale of the power of love, hope, and courage, and the strength of community.

Buy Links:

This title will be on #KindleUnlimited for the first 90 days.

Universal Buy Link: https://books2read.com/u/bodVqZ

EDITORIAL REVIEWS: HER OWN WAR

“Fans of historical fiction will find this novel a most captivating read.” —Kirkus Reviews

“For fans of Stephanie Dray’s The Women of Chateau Lafayette.” —Publishers Weekly BookLife Editor’s Pick

 “A compelling story of love, war, and fierce family loyalty. While the narrative stays true to the social mores of the French Revolutionary era, Borchert gives her readers powerful and active female characters who often cunningly use conventional gender expectations to conceal their real motives and actions. Fans of historical fiction will find this novel a most captivating read.” —Kirkus Reviews

“Readers of historical fiction with a strong current of love and loss will enjoy watching both Louis and Geneviève fight their own battles in hopes of reuniting—and reunifying their ravaged country. Sweeping, passionate portrait of the everyday lives in Bonaparte’s France.” —Publishers Weekly BookLife Editor’s Pick

“Set against the tumultuous backdrop of war-ravaged France during the French Revolution and Napoleonic Wars, the novel masterfully merges historical accuracy with fictional storytelling, plunging readers into an immersive and authentic world. Geneviève’s strong-willed nature and unwavering determination make her an intriguing protagonist. Her interactions with others, particularly Louis and Aurélia, reflect themes of resilience, human connection, and the complexities of personal relationships. The dialogue crackles with wit and the smooth pacing and the tight plotting keep readers invested. Simply un-put-downable.” —The Prairies Book Review

“With meticulous attention to detail, Borchert grounds her portrayal of wartime experiences in historical context and realism, drawing upon thorough research and actual events to vividly depict the trials of the era. Throughout, the book explores a myriad of themes, such as family, identity, resilience, human connection, and the complexities of personal relationships while raising questions about the price of war, the boundaries of morality, and the impact of violence on individuals and communities. An absolute stunner.” —BookView Review

“The divisive tragedy of war pulls a fearless fighter from the vineyard to the front lines in Her Own War by Debra Borchert, a gripping and lyrical work of historical fiction.” —SPR

AUTHOR BIO: DEBRA BORCHERT

Debra Borchert has had many careers: clothing designer, actress, TV show host, spokesperson for high-tech companies, marketing and public relations professional, and technical writer for Fortune 100 companies. Her work has appeared in The New York Times, San Francisco Chronicle, The Christian Science Monitor, and The Writer, among others. Her short stories have been published in anthologies and independently.

A graduate of the Fashion Institute of Technology, she weaves her knowledge of textiles and clothing design throughout her historical French fiction. She has been honored with a Historical Novel Society Editors’ Choice, Publishers Weekly BookLife Editor’s Pick, and many other five-star reviews.

Author Links:

Website     Twitter     Facebook     LinkedIn     Instagram

Threads     Pinterest     Book Bub    Amazon Author Page     Goodreads

EXCERPT: HER OWN WAR

Château de LaGarde Orphanage

Auguste crossed his arms and stared purposefully at me. “What happened to Papa?”

My shoulders tensed. I wouldn’t lie to my brother, but the truth would hurt. And I wouldn’t be here to help him heal. His mother should have consoled him, played with him, reassured him he was safe. “What did Maman tell you?”

“That he went away. I know that’s not true.” The pout he’d made as a little boy pulled at his lower lip.

“Let’s walk.” I headed for a stone bench farther away from the other boys and sat. “What have you heard?”

He pounded his fist on the stone bench. “He was a monster.”

Who would be so cruel to tell Papa’s own child? I covered Auguste’s fist, but he pulled it from me. “What else?” I asked.

“He was guillotined.”

I closed my eyes. I had wanted to protect him, but it wasn’t possible. “Did the other boys tell you that?”

He shook his head. “They don’t know.”

That was something to be grateful for. But who would tell him? Etty couldn’t have admitted the truth. “Then who told you?”

“Madame Suzanne.”

A prickling crossed my shoulders. “Did you ask her?”

He picked up a handful of gravel, chose a pebble and threw it at the pond. “The last time you visited, she wanted to know who you were. When I didn’t tell her, she told me she knew my father.” He tossed another pebble and the plunking it made as it hit the water was an oddly cheerful sound.

“She didn’t know him.”

He looked up at me. The innocence he’d possessed had tarnished over the past six years.

“I still didn’t tell her your name, and she got angry.” He flung all the pebbles, plunking and spraying water droplets. “She told me my father deserved to have his head chopped off.”

My hands grabbed the bench like I was strangling the bitch. After sentencing thousands—without trial—my father did deserve exactly that which he’d sentenced thousands to, but I could not admit it to his son. “Papa did not deserve that.”

“Is it true? Did Papa go to the guillotine?” He clung to my hand.

I put my arm around him and hugged him to my side. “You know Papa worked for the old government?”

“So what?”

A trembling moved through me, and I hoped he couldn’t feel it. “Papa was ordered to try people who were accused of crimes, crimes that if proven, were punishable by death.”

He looked up, his cheeks quivering. “He sent them to the guillotine?”

“Sometimes prison and sometimes he sentenced them to execution. He was not the only person who made that decision. There was a council and jurors who decided guilt.”

“If there were others, why did she call only him a monster?”

I longed to say: A woman who is also a monster, a woman who cares not one whit for a child’s heart. I didn’t want to give her the benefit of the doubt, but I didn’t want Auguste to think every woman could be so cruel. “She may have lost a loved one to the guillotine, and she blames Papa.”

Tears brimmed. “Do you think Papa was a monster?”

I wanted to scream at the top of my voice, yes, but I could not hurt my brother. He loved Papa. Long ago, I did too. “I think Papa did his job as best as he could. And when the old government faltered, the new Directoire needed to get rid of the old members.” I longed to caress Auguste’s cheek but didn’t want the boys to see. “And that included Papa.”

He dragged his sleeve across his eyes. I wanted to cry for my brother’s hurt.

He sniffed. “Does it hurt?”

“Does—” I realized he meant the guillotine. “No. It is most humane. That is why Monsieur Guillotine invented it.” At least that’s what the Revolutionaries touted. I wondered why people didn’t die of fright before they arrived at the machine.

“Auguste!” One of the boys held up a fish. “I hooked one.”

My brother shouted. “It’s huge!”

The boy held the flapping fish on a rock, and another smashed a stone on its head. “We can have it for supper!” shouted the fisherman.

Relieved by the interruption, I hoped he wouldn’t ask where Papa was buried, for I suspected he’d landed in a mass grave with no marker. Another secret I couldn’t tell him.

“Want to go fishing, Gen?”

“You go ahead. I must leave for Paris.” I patted his hand. “Thank you for not telling Suzanne who I am. You’ll continue to keep our secret? Everyone here thinks I’m a man.”

“Am I not your brother?”

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