Author Kathleen C. Perrin
on TourMarch 9 – 18
with
The Keys of the Watchmen
(New Adult / Historical Suspense)Release date: Nov 28, 2014
at Langon House/CreateSpace
394 pages
ISBN: 978-0692342855
***
SYNOPSIS
Katelyn Michaels plans on hating every moment of her visit to Mont Saint Michel with her father’s new French wife. Once there, she is confused when she experiences sensations of déjà vu as she and her younger brother explore the medieval village and abbey. She is even more disturbed when she is confronted by two unusual young men, one who insists she has a sacred mission, and the other who will stop at nothing, even murder, to stop her from fulfilling her destiny.When the oddly-dressed but alluring Nicolas slips Katelyn a strange medallion, she is whisked back through time where her Watchmen hosts tell her she is the only hope to save Mont Saint Michel. Even worse, she learns that those trying to destroy the mount are led by a fallen angel intent on learning the mount’s closely-guarded secret.
Katelyn is torn by feelings of anger at being taken back in time, inadequacy at finding a modern solution for a medieval problem, and responsibility for the mount’s starving inhabitants. She is also perturbed by her surprising attraction to the ill-tempered Nicolas. Will she stay to learn why she was chosen by the Archangel Michael and find a way to save his mount?
My Review:
Four Stars
Copy received from France Book Tours for an honest review.
First, I really enjoyed this book. There are a couple of things I think really made all the different elements of this story work. 1) The story begins with and interesting tease, "banished. They had been banished." Immediately I was interested to see who was banished, why, from where etc... 2) Mont Saint Michel is a fascinating place to learn about. Even though I've been to France and loved it, I'm disappointed I did not know about Mont Saint Michel. 3) Katie (the main character) is just an everyday teenager and she finds herself in a very extraordinary situation.
When Katie is transported to the past the story takes on a whole different feel. Now Katie is thrust into the past, she is basically fighting for survival in the mist of war torn area. In a surprising twist of events Katie is the "key" for the survival of Montois who live at Mont St. Michel. Overall, I thought this was a fascinating story. I learned a ton of information about French history. Also, the author provided some light moments so the story did not become too intense. Aside from the wonderful characters and great plot the writing was engaging and the story well-paced. Finally, the author leaves us guessing about the key that the Monk Nicolas put in her backpack and what it means. I'm personally looking forward to the next book!
***
Excerpt:
I
WAS SURPRISED AT how unbelievably stupid my captors
were. First of all, they’d spoken openly in my presence about Constable
Collins’ plans to invade the mount and secondly, although my hands and feet
were bound, they hadn’t secured me to the bunk. I guess they weren’t used to
females who actually fought for their lives—or their honor. When I managed to
sit up and shake the unattached hood from off my head, I saw that I was in what
was probably the captain’s quarters. One of those three fools actually had to
be the captain of this ship. And England was winning this war?
Although
there was no artificial light source in the room, enough sunlight filtered in
through the port-hole for me to see. The night was over, and that meant the
tide was heading back in. I had no time to lose.
I
gagged as I looked at the soiled muslin shirt on me, which hit about mid-thigh.
It was disgusting enough to think those gorillas had seen me naked, but it was
even more disgusting to be wearing the filthy garment that had belonged to
someone who had died of the bloody flux. My first order of business was to cut
through my bindings so I could find something less repulsive to wear.
Raspy-Voice
was probably the captain. He’d spoken with the most authority, and Toothless
Phillip had addressed him as ‘sir.’ Yeah, I wasn’t real thrilled to exchange
Mr. Thompson’s shirt for a garment belonging to Raspy-Voice, but it was better
than being naked. And it was better than the bloody flux. I had no time to
waste before the captain or one of his flunkies came to check on me.
I
hopped over to the table where they’d been playing cards. There was nothing on
it except a heavy pewter candlestick, so Captain Raspy-Voice had obviously
scooped up the cards and his winnings and hidden them somewhere. I looked
around and saw several built-in drawers. It was awkward, but even with my hands
and feet bound, it wasn’t that hard to open the captain’s drawers. At least the
unlocked drawers.
In
the first drawer I opened, I actually found the net bag with my shower pouf,
shampoo and soap intact. It wasn’t what I was looking for, but I was glad to
reclaim it. It only took me about five minutes more to find what I was really
looking for. Actually, it was calling my name: “Katelyn, Katelyn, I’m in here.”
And
there it was: a razor-sharp dagger with a decorative silver hilt, shoved in a
drawer with what looked like log books. The knife was probably war booty
because I didn’t think Raspy-Voice could afford such a piece. Museum-quality.
It was now my museum-quality piece,
taken as payment for that sucker punch from Toothless!
I
heard scuffling above me, and my heart dropped to my feet but I didn’t stop
sawing away at the cords. After another few minutes, I had both my hands and
legs freed. Then I searched the cabin, looking for something moderately clean
to wear. Finally, I found a drawer full of folded linens, inner garments that
appeared to be freshly laundered. Or as laundered as things could be in the
fifteenth century.
As
much as I despised putting on anything that had touched Raspy-Voice’s body, I
pulled out a clean linen shirt. I immediately removed the soiled shirt trying
to touch it as little as possible. Then I folded it with the very tips of my
index fingers and thumbs. I got a great deal of satisfaction from placing it in
the bottom of Raspy-Voice’s underwear drawer. The deceased Mr. Thompson was
also happy to return the favor.
Before
pulling on the shirt, I cut its sleeves with the dagger so they’d hit the
middle of my upper arms, and then I ripped about a foot of fabric off the
bottom. I didn’t want to expose too much of my body, but I knew I’d need to
move without restriction. The truth was that I’d very probably be swimming for
my life. The entire ship started creaking and I began to sway back and forth as
the ship’s speed picked up. I had to hurry.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Kathleen C. Perrin holds Bachelor’s degreesfrom Brigham Young University in French and Humanities,
and graduated summa cum laude.
She is a certified French-to-English translator.
While completing her education, Kathleen met and married a dashing young Frenchman.
They have spent years investigating the mysteries and beauties of his native country,
and have a cottage in Brittany.
For a ten-year period
they took tourists to Mont Saint Michel,
where she served as tour guide.
Kathleen has lived in Utah, New York City, France, and for eight years in French Polynesia.
She has worked professionally as a language and music teacher, translator, interpreter and writer.
She has published several non-fiction articles,
academic papers, and a religious history about Tahiti.
Traveling and learning about new countries and cultures is a passion for Kathleen,
but her latest passion is sharing France through her fiction.
The Perrins have three children, and currently reside in Utah.
Visit her website. Follow her on Facebook, Twitter
Buy the book: Amazon
***
You can enter the giveaway here or on the book blogs participating in this tour.
Be sure to follow each participant on Twitter/Facebook,
they are listed in the entry form below.
Entry-Form
Visit each blogger on the tour:tweeting about the giveaway everyday
of the Tour will give you 5 extra entries each time!
[just follow the directions on the entry-form]
9 winners
Choice of print or format for US/Canada residents
Digital format for all other residents
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