Charlie Cochrane - Mysteries with a dash of slash, romances with just a pinch of spice

Am feeling in a WWI mood, so here's a wee bit more from Promises Made Under Fire. Tom Donald's executing said promise, visiting his dead colleague's family:

This had to be Foden’s mother, given the face, the turn of the head, everything so much like her son. The expression on that face shocked me—it wasn’t one I’d ever seen on his. Distaste? Disapproval? Certainly not the grief or pain I’d expected.

She ushered me to sit down opposite her, but I wasn’t offered any form of refreshment. My pants had barely touched the seat when she began her interrogation.

“You were in my son’s regiment?”

“I was. Same battalion. We shared quarters.”

“Did you know him well?”

The words “I thought I did” died in my throat. “As well as any two officers might, who’ve been thrown together.” I sounded stiff, almost pompous, although that wasn’t what I’d intended. I’d expected to have to deal with a tearful, fiercely proud mother, an atmosphere of grief bravely borne, not this mood of tension and mistrust.

“When did he give you our address?” Twin peaks of colour had appeared on her ashen cheeks.

“He didn’t. Not directly, that is. Although he asked, in his final note to me, that I should call on you. The officers’ servant had kept a note of your address in case I needed it.” I felt like a child having to account for some misdemeanour—none of my words sounded convincing. “He’d copied it off the letter your son left for you.” I sounded even more like a schoolboy now, filling my story with unnecessary information. “He asked me to come and I couldn’t leave that last request unfulfilled.”

Promises made Under Fire ebook and audio.



More fabulous snippets in abundance at the Rainbow Snippets group.

If you fancy a discount of Dreams of a Hero or Promises Made Under Fire then get over there!

I have made an appointment with the plastic surgeon to have the grin taken off my gob!

Voting runs from Jan. 20th to the 24th, 2014 and will commence at midnight (USA/EST) on January 20th so make sure you get your times right! You vote too early, your vote will NOT count. One vote per person only.

All polling will be done on the LR Café’s Yahoo Group. You MUST be a member of the group in order to vote. Joining is easy - click on this link. Once you're a member, you can find all the polls here.

So delighted to find myself listed among such excellent books. And to see elin_gregory in third place.

Promises Made Under Fire is a Rainbow awards finalist in the LGBT historicals category. Great to see my old mucker Elin Gregory with On a Lee Shore featuring there, as well.

A lovely review of Promises Made Under Fire over at Bettering Me Up. Well color me impressed. I honestly wasn't expecting much from this short story; it's hard to create a world in just over 50 pages. But Cochrane did it: she made me believe that this happened and that these characters existed during WWI.

And look what's coming soon over at Cheyenne. That's neither Jonty nor Orlando on the cover, BTW, but that's all I'm saying for now.

julian_griffith says, "don't think there wasn't any sexual tension. She can get more out of a light touch on the arm than many authors can get out of a full-on sex scene." which just about make my day! read the rest here.

Then, over at Mrs Condit Promises Made gets five sweet peas and, "I’ll say no more at this point other than to implore any readers of this to read or listen to this story. It is heartbreaking and wonderful all at the same time and the ending is ultimately very satisfying."

Happy sighs.

It's review and blog city chez Cochrane at present. Been pontificating over at the Samhain site about Gay Historicals, picking the considerable brains of Elin Gregory, Jenre and Tracey Pennington en route.


And Promises Made Under Fire got another stonking review, this time over at Speak Its Name, so I'm dancing with joy. "Her writing gets stronger as she finds her style (although she’s just as capable of contemporary, fantasy and historical) and gains strength and confidence in her writing. This is–to my mind–one of the most mature pieces she’s produced, and is romantic enough for those who seek it but thought provoking enough for those who want a more gritty read."

That's me grinning in the corner...

My latest foray into WWI, Promises Made Under Fire, is out today in e-book and audio version.

"I can recommend it whole-heartedly. Emotional, but no real angst, still moving and lovely. This would be an excellent entry point into MM romance" Read full review.


France, 1915

Lieutenant Tom Donald envies everything about fellow officer Frank Foden--his confidence, his easy manner with the men in the trenches, the affectionate letters from his wife. Frank shares these letters happily, drawing Tom into a vicarious friendship with a woman he's never met. Although the bonds of friendship forged under fire are strong, Tom can't be so open with Frank--he's attracted to men and could never confess that to anyone.

When Frank is killed in no-man's-land, he leaves behind a mysterious request for Tom: to deliver a sealed letter to a man named Palmer. Tom undertakes the commission while on leave--and discovers that almost everything he thought he knew about Frank is a lie...

Here's a bit from the scene where Tom has to carry out Foden's request to visit his mother:

Two days later—a bright, bitterly cold morning—I headed to London, address in hand. At first, when I turned into the road, I thought I’d gone wrong, but unless Foden had written Avenue when he’d meant Street or Road—or Bentham had copied it incorrectly—there could be no mistake.
I walked along, noting the numbers but not being as bullish as I was under fire. I’d pictured Mrs. Foden as the cook to some prosperous but modest family, not the sort of household living here, and by the time I was still a dozen houses from my target I’d convinced myself this was either a huge mistake or all my preconceptions about Frank’s background were awry. I quickened my step, lunged down the area steps (and “over the top”) and rapped on the tradesman’s door.
The sort of butler who eyed you as if you were something to scrape from his boot opened it.
“Can I help you? Sir?” He added, after giving me a once-over.
I tipped my hat, stopping just short of saluting—even in officer’s clothes I felt like a little boy asking for my football back. “Yes, I’m looking for Mrs. Foden.”
I didn’t realise the butler could look any more disapproving until I saw his change of expression. “You will not find her down here.” He took a deep breath and drew himself up to his full height. “If you make your way to the house door I will await you there.”
That didn’t make a lot of sense, but I obeyed him. Perhaps there’d been some problem and the cook had left the household? Was I being called to see the master or mistress of the house, who would then explain the chain of events to me? Or did my uniform, and the all too-obvious regimental badge, make the butler think of Foden and decide it was better I spoke with the employer first before upsetting a member of his household? Thoughts sped through my brain faster than bullets across No-man’s-land as I slowly climbed the area steps and then up to the front door.
It opened as soon as I hit the top step, as though the butler had either been watching for me or known to perfection how long it would take to make the short journey.
“I shall inform Mrs. Foden of your arrival,” he said, looking down his nose at me. “Who shall I say it is?”
“Captain Donald,” I replied, my relatively new rank still tripping a tongue which wanted to say “Lieutenant.” “I served with her son.”