My Spotlight Guest: Charlene Newcomb and Rogue

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A king who seeks revenge.
A daring plan to save one life…or condemn many.

England 1216AD. Sir Robert Fitzwilliam faithfully serves the English crown, but when
the outlaw Allan a Dale, a childhood friend, is captured and thrown in the
sheriff’s dungeons beneath Nottingham Castle, trouble is certain to follow.

Allan’s days are numbered. Nothing would
please King John more than to see an old nemesis hanged. Nothing except
watching Robert’s estranged father, Robin, dangling dead from a rope beside
him.

When his father joins forces with the
Hood gang to rescue Allan, enlisting the aid of friends and even the girl he
loves, Robert must decide where his loyalties lie.

TALES OF ROBIN HOOD

Before there was Robin Hood, there was Allan of the Hood. You know
their story – in Sherwood Forest, they rob from the rich and give to the poor.
Rogue is a retelling of the origins of the Robin Hood legends set during a time
of a rebellion and invasion near the end of King John’s reign. It’s a thrilling
adventure of loyalty, love, sacrifice, spies, and intrigue.

Available on Amazon: https://mybook.to/RogueTales

Read An Excerpt

Enjoy
this excerpt from Chapter 7 of Rogue,
wherein Marian does not want Robin to go to Nottingham to rescue Allan…

“This is not your problem.” Marian had
faced Robin, the brush she’d been combing her hair with held stiffly in her
lap. She sat very still, listening, letting him explain before she’d spoken.
“Allan chose this life. He knew it might end badly. But you…you chose us,
Robin. Please—”

He knelt at her feet, put the brush
aside, and clasped her hands. “Allan has helped thousands. What have I done?”

“Are you saying it was a mistake to marry
me, to come to York?” Marian’s words were sharp, but her voice wasn’t harsh. He
could never escape that she knew him too well. “You’d rather live in the forest
as an outlaw.”

“I would not miss a day of the years
we’ve had.” He saw the love in her eyes. “I expect many more. But if I hadn’t
found you again, then yes, I would be there. You know that.”

Her face held both love and fear. “I do.”
She touched his brow, his temple. Her fingers stroked his cheeks. “I don’t want
you to go. We lost so many years together.”

Robin kissed her hand. He could never
recapture those times and would never forget how he’d left Marian without a
word. He didn’t know she was expecting their son. He hadn’t known about Robert
until the boy was nine summers and he was thousands of miles away serving King
Richard on the pilgrimage to the Holy Land.

“How will you feel if Little John’s
message has come too late? Allan may already be hanging from a gibbet,” she
said. “Or his head on a spike.”

Marian knew Allan, and Robin could see
how painful those words were for her to say. He had to believe they weren’t
true.

“He is alive and in the dungeons. There
are tunnels beneath the castle—some only Allan knows. Henry and Stephan, or
Tuck, will know a way to get me inside to see Allan.” To get him out.

“Lord Henry? Why would he…? His last
letter…”

Robin gave her a rueful half smile. “They
have been working in Sherwood with Allan’s gang.”

“Working?” Marian stood abruptly and
paced to the window. “Robbing people. No better than thieves.”

“They give near all they take to folks
who would starve without their help.”

“Thieves,” she repeated. “Dear God, does
Lady Bea know?”

Robin shook his head. He had urged Henry
to tell his sister, but Henry didn’t want her to worry. His letters were short,
infrequent and had words like We are
thinking of pilgrimage to Rome.

“I suppose that’s a good thing,” Marian
said. “Better than knowing he lives in the forest and robs innocent people.
Stealing is a sin.”

Robin pulled her close. “Thou shalt not
steal seems to matter little to Henry when the Church tells him there is a
place in Hell waiting for him and Stephan.” He kissed the top of her head. “I
love you, wife.”

Marian sighed, cradling her head against
his chest. “Stay. You cannot do anything to help Allan now.”

“I can succor him. Is that not enough?”
Robin stroked her hair. “I want him to know in his heart that we have not
forgotten him.” There will be a way to
get him out of the dungeon. His last walk will not be to the gallows.

“Write to him. Little John can deliver
your message.” She looked up at Robin. “Which he already offered, and you said,
‘No, it would not be right’. I know.
I just… If the sheriff’s men discover you are in Nottingham, they will put you
in that cell with Allan.”

Robin tapped her nose, and then tucked a
loose strand of hair behind her ear. “They won’t recognize me.”

Marian cupped his face in her hands.
“There are lines on your cheeks and at your eyes, but those eyes are as blue as
the first day you kissed me. You still have those dimples when you smile—”

“I’ll be sure not to smile then.”

She batted his arm. “And a rosebud curl
when your mouth is closed.” Her eyes lit mischievously, and she added, “Which
isn’t often.”

Robin laughed. “Are you saying I talk too
much?”

Her finger on his lips silenced him. She
slid her hand behind his neck and pulled him down to meet her in a kiss.

Marian felt like silk in his hands, soft
as the first day he had made love to her. She fit perfectly in his embrace. He
could still picture her in their secret spot along the stream near their
childhood homes, the joy of their bodies becoming one.

Robin gasped. Marian had reached between
them.

“Keep that up and we may get little sleep
tonight,” Robin said between breathless kisses, “but I still must leave on the
morrow.”

“You leave me and your own children to
risk your life to comfort Allan.”

Robin’s arms tightened around her. “I
will do everything I can to keep safe.” He stroked her hair again. “Lucy and
Richard will be here for you.”

Richard.
He
was fifteen. He couldn’t stay here forever. And Marian knew that. Their
youngest son would leave, just as Robert had. Their rank demanded it. Richard
had trained for knighthood since he first sat atop a horse. It was time they
let him go, that he could become the man they knew he could be.

A smile curled Robin’s lips. Perhaps his
other news would make this less painful. “Robert is in Nottingham, part of the sheriff’s
troop at the castle.”

Speechless, Marian pulled away from him.
She bit her lip, then exhaled softly. “I have missed him.”

“So have I.”

“Despite your arguments?” she asked.

Robin nodded. It had been hard on Marian
to watch their oldest son’s irritation with him. It was almost a relief that he
hadn’t returned, though Robin’s letters encouraged him to come home. How many
times…how many ways could he say he was sorry?

Robert had never forgiven him for letting
Marian think he was dead all those years, for the lies she was forced to tell.
Concealing that she was with child, lying about marriage and being widowed.

He stepped toward Marian, but she whirled
around and leaned on the window embrasure.

“There are times I wish you had stayed a
carpenter’s son.”

Robin turned his palms up. “This is who I
am, the man you took as husband.” He had spent too much of his youth loosing
arrows and had little skill with awl and chisel. His father’s fault. If he
hadn’t made him the best bow in England, Robin wouldn’t have won the silver
that allowed him to buy a horse. That victory led to his service to King
Richard.

Marian folded her arms across her
breasts. She shifted, but even in the shadows her face was hard. “You should
pack what you need, and check with cook—”

“That’s done.” There would be fresh
loaves of bread in the morning and plenty of dried meat and some cheese for
their journey south.

He pressed his lips to Marian’s hand. He
wanted a quiet night with her curled up in his arms. He looked into her eyes,
hoping to see that she needed him as much as he wanted her.

“I am still angry,” she said.

“You’re frightened,” he replied, brushing
his thumb across her cheek.

“Robin…”  

He kissed her, gently. And when she broke
into tears and sobbed against his chest he held her close.

About the Author

Charlene Newcomb, aka Char, writes historical fiction and science fiction. Her Battle Scars trilogy is set in the 12th century during the reign of Richard the Lionheart. It’s filled with war, political intrigue, and a knightly romance of forbidden love. All 3 books are indieBRAG Medallion honorees; Book II is a Historical Novel Society Editors Choice, a finalist in the Chaucer Awards for pre-1750 Historical Fiction, and received an Honorable Mention from Writer’s Digest. 

While medieval historical fiction has her under its spell at the moment, her writing roots are in the Star Wars Expanded Universe (now known as Legends) where she published her first short story in 1994 in the Star Wars Adventure Journal. She published a scifi/space opera, Echoes of the Storm, which was awarded 1st in category in the Chanticleer International Book Awards in 2021.

Librarian (retired).

US Navy veteran. 

Mom to 3 grown, amazing people, grandma to 3 adorable boys.

She spends most of the year in Louisiana, but escapes summer heat and humidity visiting family in Washington and Colorado.

Social Media Links: 

Website https://charlenenewcomb.com

Facebook 

https://www.facebook.com/CharleneNewcombAuthor/

Twitter 

https://twitter.com/charnewcomb

Instagram 

https://instagram.com/charnewc

Amazon 

Universal:https://mybook.to/RogueTales

https://www.amazon.com/stores/author/B00APY2H16

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