HEART OF THE EMERALD - Cynthia Hickey - One Free Ebook

Welcome back, Cynthia. How did you come up with the idea for this story?

Being of Scot-Irish descent, I love anything Irish or Scottish. I ran across a book of Five Points and what the immigrants endured there, and thought it would make a good story of a feisty gal who overcame.

If you were planning a party with Christian authors of contemporary fiction, what six people would you invite and why?

Janice Thompson, because she’s a hoot, Gail Gaymer Martin, because she’s the sweetest person ever, Martha Rogers because I want to be like her at her age, Susan May Warren because she’s full of knowledge, Kathleen Y’Barbo, because she loves me, and Francine Rivers, because she made me love the genre.

Now let’s do that for a party for Christian authors of historical fiction, what six people would you invite and why?

Janice Thompson, same as above, Gina Welborn because she makes my face hurt from laughing, Gail Gaymer Martin and Martha Rogers, same as above, Francine Rivers, same as above, and Diane Whitmeyer because her books make me laugh.

Many times, people (and other authors) think you have it made with so many books published. What is your most difficult problem with writing at this time in your career?

Keeping up with my readers’ demands. I’ve spoiled them by being prolific and they now expect quick writing and releases.

Tell us about the featured book.

Heart of the Emerald is about a young Irish lass fixated on revenge for the theft of a family heirloom. She leaves her beloved Ireland and, despite the help of a handsome and kind Englishman, ends up in Five Points, New York. She must discover what is more important…love or a material possession.

Please give us the first page of the book.

May, 1892

Aileen Sullivan leaned over the rail of the Lucania and stared at the ocean rushing by. Occasionally, a spray blew misting her cheeks with a chilly kiss and mingling with her tears.

The purple outline of America’s shore hovered in the distance. They’d left the banks of Ireland behind days ago. It already seemed like ages since her gaze fell on her country’s lush banks and craggy cliffs. Aileen experienced nothing more than homesickness, heartbreak, and the horrors of sea travel now. No more toiling the fields, milking the cow, or feeding the chickens. Instead, she lived with the groans of passengers in the throes of seasickness and lung fever.

Her torn heart ached, one half lodged in her breast, the other on the Emerald Isle. She straightened and took a deep breath of the salty air, then pulled her cloak tighter against the sea breeze.

Fingering the single gold chain around her throat, all that was left of her ma’s precious jewelry, she turned and swiped away the tears obscuring her vision. If only she still had her mother’s brooch, an emerald handed down for generations from first born girl to first born girl. But no, an evil man took it and based his action on a lie.

She stumbled over a coil of rope and gasped, flailing her arms for balance, and smashed into a solid leather covered chest. Strong hands steadied her. She lowered her gaze and let it travel from scuffed boots up past tan pants and a starched white shirt to eyes as blue as Ireland’s sky. This man was not a steerage passenger, and thus Aileen should not force her company on him. Perhaps she had been so lost in her thoughts she didn’t hear the call to return to the lower level of the ship. She backed up. “Pardon me.”

“Are you all right?” The man’s voice rumbled over her like far-off thunder. The concern on his face caused the tears to sting again.

“I am fine, thank you.” She moved to brush past him.

“Please, don’t let me run you away. The ship’s railing is large enough for us both.” The corner of his mouth quirked. “You’re from Ireland?”

She sighed and nodded. “You are American?”

“I call myself American. I’m Samuel Westfield. I was in London on family business and now returning to my new home.” He leaned against a crate. “We should be docking in a few hours.”

Aileen’s mouth dried, and she turned back to the approaching shore. Was she ready to confront Liam Connor and his thieving ways? She didn’t think so. Liam had been such a close family friend that the Sullivans trusted him. Aileen and her brother called him Uncle, until the death of Aileen’s parents and the man’s true colors revealed themselves.

How long would their funds last in New York? She and Patrick would need to find suitable lodgings, but she’d never worked off the farm a day in her life and didn’t have a clue what to do first. What if they had to leave the city and travel across the strange continent to the Wild West?

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Readers, here’s a link to the book.

Heart of the Emerald

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