Taste of Kiwi: Blog of Author Shelley Munro

The theme this week is a music playlist. As a rule, I don’t do playlists for my books. Music is wasted on me when I write because I zone out and don’t hear it after a while. At present, I’m working on a historical set in 1940 England during the World War II. I’ve been playing a CD called We’ll Meet Again – 20 Wartime Memories to get myself in a period mood. Here are several songs featured on the CD.

Playlist:

We’ll Meet Again – Vera Lynn
Coming in On a Wing & a Prayer – The Song Spinners
Don’t Sit Under the Apple Tree – The Glenn Miller Orchestra with Marion Hutton
Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy – The Andrew Sisters
Don’t Fence Me In – Bing Crosby & The Andrew Sisters
The White Cliffs of Dover – Vera Lynn
Somewhere Over The Rainbow – Judy Garland

Today I’m also including a short excerpt from Unforgettable, my World War Two romance, which is available from Ellora’s Cave.

Unforgettable by Shelley Munro

“Thank you. I’d love to dance.”

The man beamed and offered her his arm. They strolled over to join the couples doing a quick step on the highly polished floor. Margo stepped into his arms and made small chat to put the man at ease, just as she’d done with Johnnie. They moved in time to the female singer crooning about love and laughter.

Feeling the weight of a stare, Margo glanced over to her right. Her feet faltered.

“Johnnie,” she whispered, positive she was seeing things.

“I beg your pardon?” her partner asked.

Margo blinked several times before risking another glance over to the corner of the room. Disappointment seared her when she spied the face of a handsome stranger.

“I thought I saw someone I knew,” she said, forcing a bright smile. “A friend from the village where I live.”

“Would you like to go over to see them?” her partner asked.

Margo caught the hint of disappointment in his face. “I was imagining things,” she said. “Besides, I’d rather dance.”

The soldier’s shy smile made her glad and they danced together mostly in silence, although Margo found out he was on leave and his armored brigade was heading off the following week.

The song ended and Margo felt a tap on her shoulder.

“May I have this dance?”

That voice. Margo’s breathing stalled. Her heart hammered, thumping so loudly she wondered if she might faint. Slowly, she forced herself to inhale. Hardly daring to hope, Margo spun around to face the male behind her.

Johnnie.

Goodness, it really was Johnnie. Margo swallowed, a hundred thoughts flitting through her mind. There was so much between them, so much hurt and bitterness she was surprised he was even asking her to dance. But so relieved. Remembering her manners, Margo thanked the soldier she’d danced with and turned to Johnnie, eagerly searching his face. He looked thinner, his face etched with lines that hadn’t been there when they’d parted. His eyes were the same deep brown that made her melt inside but his smile was absent. And his beautiful dark hair was ruthlessly short. There was no curl left. Margo found herself wanting to say something gay and witty, something to make him smile.

Instead, she remained silent, slipping into his arms and moving close. The heat from his body warmed her through, melting the icy coldness that had encased her since their last harsh words. Margo breathed in his scent, the clean aroma with the faint hint of soap and musk bringing back a rush of memories. Good times. Happier times when they were in love and enjoying spending each snatched moment together.

“How are you, Johnnie?”

Johnnie’s hand tightened on her shoulder momentarily before guiding Margo into a turn. “I’m fine,” he said finally, his husky voice sending shards of longing skipping through her body. In that instant, she wished things were different.

Purchase from Ellora’s Cave or Amazon Kindle

To read more Snippet Saturday excerpts follow the links below:

Mari Carr
Shelley Munro
Vivian Arend
Taige Crenshaw
McKenna Jeffries
Ashley Ladd
Emma Petersen
Lauren Dane
Eliza Gayle

This week’s theme is a scary or horror scene. As a rule I don’t write horror, but after some thought, I’ve posted a scene from my historical Unforgettable. The bombers are flying over London and our hero and heroine are fleeing, trying to find a bomb shelter to ride it out.

Unforgettable by Shelley Munro

A double-decker bus lumbered down the road, crammed with passengers trying to get home. They walked for another ten minutes. The moon crept from behind a cloud, slowly emerging to highlight a bomb-struck Georgian mansion. A bomber’s moon, Johnnie thought as he switched off his torch and returned it to his pocket. He slipped his arm around Margo and guided her around the bricks and rubble littering the footpath and part of the road. Glass crunched beneath their shoes with each step. Johnnie caught the scent of lavender that wafted from her skin and fought the urge to lean closer. What he was thinking—that they could have a future—was stupid. He’d only make a fool of himself and leave himself open to more pain.

Without warning, a familiar sound filled the air—the drone of approaching bombers. The air sirens sounded, an eerie piercing whine that alternately rose and fell in pitch. It was becoming a nightly litany.

“Where’s the nearest bomb shelter?” Johnnie demanded. They wouldn’t have time to make it back to the dancehall. Urgently he peered through the moonlit darkness, attempting to locate somewhere safe for them to wait out the bombing. Searchlights probed the sky, scanning for the planes before they dropped their bombs. The dark silhouettes of barrage balloons, used to stop bombers flying low, were visible in the searchlights.

At his side, Margo glanced both up and down the street, trying to spy safety in the inky black of the night. “Three streets over at the underground station,” she said finally.

Johnnie frowned up at the sky before scanning the area for alternatives. “We’ll never make it.”

“There are houses at the end of this street. Most of the residents have moved away. If we’re lucky we might find an empty Anderson shelter.”

“How do you know?”

“My friend June used to live near here. Her parents moved to the country to live with relations.”

Johnnie grasped her hand, urging Margo to move faster while anxiously searching their surroundings.

The bombers and their escorts seemed to come closer and closer. A bomb dropped, the whistle when it fell making the hair at the back of Johnnie’s neck prickle in alarm. The flicker of a fire lit the night, the acrid stench of smoke strong on the air. Incendiary bombs. They were close. Too close. He increased his speed, desperate to get them both to a safe place.

“Over there,” Margo said, her words hoarse and barely discernable. Her hand trembled in his but thankfully she kept her head and didn’t panic.

Johnnie glanced in the direction she pointed and made out the dim outline of a shelter. The Anderson, named after its inventor Sir John Anderson, stood to the side of a fully intact brick bungalow. Now that his eyes were more accustomed to the night, he picked out a pot of marigolds and another of sweet william standing beside the Anderson. When they neared, he caught a whiff of their sweet scent. Rows of carrots and onions grew along the roof while marrows, potatoes and a pungent mint plant grew on the sides. The healthy plants made Johnnie wonder if the owner occupied the shelter. Hell, he hoped not. Perhaps the near miss of a previous bombing had scared them away since one wall was all that remained of the neighboring building. Johnnie stopped in front of the shelter, praying it was empty and not damp or so flooded it was unusable.

He tapped on the metallic doorway after squeezing past the earth-filled boxes that protected the entrance. “Hello?” His breath eased out in relief when there was no reply. He eased the door cover away and shone his torch briefly before flicking it off and slipping it into his coat pocket. “In here. It’s empty.” He ducked his head inside before turning back to Margo. “It’s not too damp.”

Anderson shelters were government issue and built to withstand almost everything except a direct hit. Johnnie hoped this one would save their lives.

A bomb hit a few streets over, the whine and subsequent explosion on impact sent a shudder of horror through him. Another fire burned in the distance, brightening the sky. His heart pounded and a fine film of sweat broke out on his forehead. He tried not to think about the comrades who had fallen during the height of battle or the piece of shrapnel that had ripped a gouge in his arm. He really did, but the cries and pained moans of his friends, the coppery stench of blood, the pungent smell of guns firing continuously and the wet, muddy uncomfortable foxholes flashed through his mind unbidden. A jagged throb sprang to life in his left biceps, as if the injury had just occurred. Johnnie trembled, his jaw clenched tightly to bite back his pained moan. He’d been one of the lucky ones—one of the men who had returned home.

Johnnie swallowed, shrugged off the flashback. “Hurry, Margo. Before another one hits.” Already the ack-ack roar from the antiaircraft guns thundered through the night and a third fire several streets over illuminated the way for the bomber pilots. “Quick.”

Margo slipped past him in a wave of lavender and he crawled in after her, covering the entrance and shutting out the nightmare scene outside before standing to his full height. At their center point Andersons were six feet high, just high enough to give him an inch of clearance, and large enough for up to six people at a tight squeeze. The interior of the shelter was inky black and he fumbled for his torch. It slipped from his trembling hand, rolling away before he could catch it. Johnnie clenched his fingers tightly, breathing deeply before he searched the floor. The interior smelled musty and a little damp. A blast of chilly air from near the entrance nipped at his face, bringing a shiver.

“Ouch!”

“Are you all right?” Johnnie sought reassurance since he couldn’t see her. He wanted to draw her close and hug her. He wanted to kiss her. He wanted confirmation he was alive.

Purchase Unforgettable at Ellora’s Cave

Follow the links below to read more excerpts on the Snippet Saturday trail.

Anya Bast
Eliza Gayle
Juliana Stone
Michelle Pillow
Mandy Roth
Lauren Dane
Moira Rogers
Mark Henry
TJ Michaels
Jody Wallace
Ashley Ladd
Kelly Maher
Shelli Stevens
Shelley Munro
Savannah Foley