{"id":6988,"date":"2017-05-30T01:05:12","date_gmt":"2017-05-30T05:05:12","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/kate-hill.com\/blog\/?p=6988"},"modified":"2017-05-23T20:38:34","modified_gmt":"2017-05-24T00:38:34","slug":"where-rainbows-end-by-annemarie-brear","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/kate-hill.com\/blog\/?p=6988","title":{"rendered":"Where Rainbows End by AnneMarie Brear"},"content":{"rendered":"<p><strong><u>Where Rainbows End<\/u><\/strong><\/p>\n<p><strong>Blurb<\/strong><\/p>\n<p><em>\u201cI\u2019m not a man, but that won\u2019t stop me. Just you wait and see.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n<p>It\u2019s 1850 and the Noble family have arrived in Australia to start a new life after scandal drove them from their native England. Headstrong Pippa Noble is determined to reclaim their honour by making her father\u2019s plans for a successful stud farm a reality.<\/p>\n<p>Pippa is immediately spellbound by the untamed outback landscape, although she learns the hard way about the unforgiving nature of the bush \u2013 sometimes with devastating consequences. When circumstance leads to Pippa tending the new farm alone, it is the steadfast friendship of neighbouring country estate owner Gil Ashford-Smith that helps her through.<\/p>\n<p>Then an unexpected visitor from England arrives, putting Pippa\u2019s dreams in jeopardy. But she refuses to let go. She will hold onto her family\u2019s land and make her mark, even if it means losing everything else \u2026<\/p>\n<p><strong>Excerpt:<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>A sun-drenched morning greeted the party when they headed north-west out of Berrima. Once on the outskirts of the town, the bush grew thick with scrub, rendering the wagon and gig nearly useless. After nearly five miles of battling steep hills and rock-strewn descents, they left the transports and went the rest of the way on foot. However, this setback didn\u2019t deter them, and Pippa, excited as a child at Christmas, hoisted her skirts above her ankles and strode ahead.<\/p>\n<p>Stepping over grass tussocks and around jutting boulders, she jumped as startled kangaroos and rock wallabies bounded away, their thumping feet sounding like distant thunder. Flocks of white cockatoos screeched their disapproval from high in the trees.<\/p>\n<p>The sharp scent of eucalyptus permeated the air and Pippa sniffed deeply, wondrously. At intervals, trees thick with blooms of yellow, which she knew to be called wattles, punctuated the grey-green landscape and gum trees let their little blooms of red dance in the breeze.<\/p>\n<p>She jerked suddenly as a low branch jagged at her skirt. Her father helped to extricate the material and when her petticoat\u2019s lace hem tore, she cared little. Nothing and no one could spoil this day.<\/p>\n<p>Gerald grimaced at the ruined fabric. \u2018You should not have come, my dear.\u2019<\/p>\n<p>\u2018Nonsense, Father.\u2019 Pippa grinned. \u2018A little hardship strengthens character.\u2019<\/p>\n<p>\u2018Mr Noble.\u2019 Robson gestured to a large eucalyptus trunk. The surveyor\u2019s initials were cut deep into the bark.<\/p>\n<p>Gerald consulted his maps. \u2018This ridge ends another ten yards further on.\u2019<\/p>\n<p>Pippa hurried the remaining distance, nearly tripping in her haste. She stepped beyond a large tree and stopped.<\/p>\n<p>Below, bathed in golden glory, lay their valley.<\/p>\n<p>Tingles of excitement mixed with reverent joy sucked her breath away. She scanned the horizon of rugged hills and then gazed down at the inviting valley. It was everything she\u2019d dreamed of and more, because it was real. Tears gathered behind her eyes, blocking her throat. \u2018It\u2019s perfect.\u2019<\/p>\n<p>\u2018How in God\u2019s name are we to get down there with the wagon?\u2019 Robson mumbled, breaking her spell of wonder. He walked closer to the edge and peered down at the jagged outcrops of rocks and boulders that broke up the density of the trees and bush.<\/p>\n<p>Gerald took off his hat and wiped his sweating forehead with a handkerchief. \u2018Maybe further along there is an easier route down.\u2019<\/p>\n<p>They walked on for another hundred yards before finding another tree with the surveyor\u2019s initials marked in it and also an arrow scratched next to them.<\/p>\n<p>Robson pointed to a gentler slope and a roughly cut track snaking through the trees and scrub. \u2018If the surveyor went down there, then that must be the easiest way.\u2019 He frowned. \u2018I wonder if he took transports \u2026\u2019<\/p>\n<p>\u2018Likely packhorses.\u2019 Gerald studied his maps again.<\/p>\n<p>Pippa walked to the edge of the slope. She paused to gauge the steepness and then reached for a nearby sapling to keep her steady as she edged her way down.<\/p>\n<p>\u2018Pippa!\u2019<\/p>\n<p>Her father\u2019s shout made her stop and glance back. \u2018It\u2019s all right, Father. Hold onto the trees.\u2019<\/p>\n<p>Robson and Gerald hurried towards her and gingerly made their way to her side.<\/p>\n<p>Gerald gripped her arm. \u2018You are too headstrong. It was a foolish thing to do.\u2019<\/p>\n<p>She tossed her head. \u2018I wasn\u2019t going to be left behind.\u2019<\/p>\n<p>\u2018You\u2019ll be the death of me, girl.\u2019 Gerald panted and wiped his forehead again.<\/p>\n<p>As they concentrated on getting safely to the bottom, the noises of the bush intensified. An unseen bird made the sound of a whiplash cutting the air, flies buzzed, twigs snapped underfoot, and small lizards slithered over rocks.<\/p>\n<p>The track brought them out on the left side of the valley. At the bottom, the trees and scrub thinned out to grassy plains. Emerging out of the shade, the heat intensified. Pippa wished she had brought her parasol with her, but had left it in the gig so she could hold her skirts up with both hands. Sweat trickled inside her collar and dampened her bonnet. She licked her dry lips. \u2018Is there water close by?\u2019<\/p>\n<p>\u2018Here, miss, I have water with me.\u2019 Robson handed her a leather-bound canteen.<\/p>\n<p>\u2018Thank you.\u2019 She stopped to drink and chuckled as the cool and pleasant water trickled down her chin. Drinking from a canteen was an art she hadn\u2019t mastered.<\/p>\n<p>\u2018Do you see that thin line of gum trees in the middle over there?\u2019 Robson pointed in front of them.<\/p>\n<p>Pippa studied the ragged thin line and nodded.<\/p>\n<p>\u2018Those trees must edge the creek bank.\u2019 He turned to Gerald. \u2018Do you see that flat rise to the right of the creek bend, Mr Noble?\u2019<\/p>\n<p>\u2018Aye, lad, I do.\u2019<\/p>\n<p>Robson smiled. \u2018I think it would make an ideal homestead site.\u2019<\/p>\n<p>Gerald slapped Robson on the shoulder. \u2018I think you may be right, my man.\u2019<\/p>\n<p>Pippa hesitated as the two men walked on. She slowly turned a full circle, taking in the broad sweep of the valley. Acres of waist-high brown grass rippled in the infinite breeze like a long slow wave on a lazy sea.<\/p>\n<p>She strolled on, enjoying the feeling of walking on her own land. She now understood the power it gave men and why they did almost anything to acquire property. They broke their backs trying to keep it viable in the hard times and, in good times, they looked to buy more. The intensity of emotion frightened her. Her land. Her future.<\/p>\n<p><strong>Buy links:<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>All Amazon Kindle sites; <a href=\"http:\/\/mybook.to\/WhereRainbowsEnd\">myBook.to\/WhereRainbowsEnd<\/a><\/p>\n<p>Kobo UK: <a href=\"https:\/\/goo.gl\/24Tir1\">https:\/\/goo.gl\/24Tir1<\/a><\/p>\n<p><strong><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"alignleft size-medium wp-image-6989\" src=\"http:\/\/kate-hill.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/05\/Annemarie-Brear-188x300.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"188\" height=\"300\" srcset=\"https:\/\/kate-hill.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/05\/Annemarie-Brear-188x300.jpg 188w, https:\/\/kate-hill.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/05\/Annemarie-Brear.jpg 250w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 188px) 100vw, 188px\" \/>Author Bio:<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>Australian born AnneMarie Brear writes historical novels and modern romances. Her passions, apart from writing, are reading, researching, genealogy, roaming historical sites, buying books and gardening. She is an author of historical women&#8217;s fiction, contemporary romance and several short stories and is currently living in England.<br \/>\nAnneMarie Brear on the web:<br \/>\n<a href=\"http:\/\/www.annemariebrear.com\/\">http:\/\/www.annemariebrear.com<\/a><br \/>\n<a href=\"http:\/\/annemariebrear.blogspot.co.uk\/\">http:\/\/annemariebrear.blogspot.co.uk<\/a><br \/>\n<a href=\"https:\/\/www.facebook.com\/annemariebrear\">https:\/\/www.facebook.com\/annemariebrear<\/a><br \/>\nTwitter @annemariebrear.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Where Rainbows End Blurb &ldquo;I&rsquo;m not a man, but that won&rsquo;t stop me. Just you wait and see.&rdquo; It&rsquo;s 1850 and the Noble family have arrived in Australia to start a new life after scandal drove them from their native England. Headstrong Pippa Noble is determined to reclaim their honour by making her father&rsquo;s plans&#8230;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":6990,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[836,5],"tags":[794,430],"class_list":["post-6988","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-annemarie-brear","category-guest-bloggers","tag-featured","tag-romance"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/kate-hill.com\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6988","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/kate-hill.com\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/kate-hill.com\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/kate-hill.com\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/kate-hill.com\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=6988"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/kate-hill.com\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6988\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":6991,"href":"https:\/\/kate-hill.com\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6988\/revisions\/6991"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/kate-hill.com\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/6990"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/kate-hill.com\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=6988"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/kate-hill.com\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=6988"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/kate-hill.com\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=6988"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}