Muskets and Minuets by Lindsey S. Fera / #Extract #BlogTour @maryanneyarde @AuthorLinzFera


Love. Politics. War.

Amidst mounting tensions between the British crown and the American colonists of Boston, Annalisa Howlett struggles with her identity and purpose as a woman. Rather than concern herself with proper womanly duties, like learning to dance a minuet or chasing after the eligi-ble and charming Jack Perkins, Annalisa prefers the company of her brother, George, and her beloved musket, Bixby. She intends to join the rebellion, but as complications in her personal life intensify, and the colonies inch closer to war with England, everything Annalisa thought about her world and womanhood are transformed forever.

Join Annalisa on her journey to discover what it truly means to be a woman in the 18th cen-tury, all set against the backdrop of some of the most pivotal moments in American history




In the dimmed twilight, Annalisa paced the foyer of her house. The old clock chimed half-eight. George had left the farm mid-morning. When will he return? Will he return?

A boulder overtook her stomach. She would have joined her own militia had Mamma not held her hostage with her sisters.

Certainly, the Danvers minute marched…

Galloping hooves sounded from the lane and Annalisa ran outside with a lantern. When she met the path, she gasped.

Jack rode Frederick, and George, looking rather limp, held onto his waist. All air left her lungs.

“What’s happened to George?” Briny tears dripped onto her neck and chest.

Jack dismounted. “He’s been wounded. We need a doctor.”

She ran toward them, and a sudden terror paralyzed her from touching George. “Was there a battle?” The lantern rattled in her hands, and she threw her arms around Jack. “Tell me George will live.” She inhaled the gunpowder on his clothes and the salty sweat from his neck.

“Dear heart.” Jack held her. “Please, we must get him a doctor. And yes, there was a battle.”

“Yes. Of course.” She reluctantly pulled from him and her mind cleared. “This way. I’ll have Henry call on Dr. Brown.”

They led Frederick up to the house, whereupon Jack aided George from the horse’s mount.

“Annie? ’Tis but a scratch.” George’s head slowly lifted and he grinned, but his vacant stare chilled her.

Annalisa squeezed his bloodied hand. “This is far more than a scratch, dear brother.” She helped Jack, who walked with a considerable limp, haul George indoors. “Henry! Come quick.”

Her youngest brother appeared from the parlor with Mary. “My God, what’s happened?”

“You must ride to Dr. Brown’s at once. George is wounded from battle. Frederick is right outside but he’s ridden a long way. Perhaps take Dinah.”

“Of course.” Henry rushed past them and out the front door.

“Into the drawing room.” Mary led the way and cleared off the pillows from the sofa.

Thank you


About the Author

A born and bred New Englander, Lindsey hails from the North Shore of Boston. A member of the Topsfield Historical Society and the Historical Novel Society, she forged her love for writing with her intrigue for colonial America by writing her debut novel, Muskets and Minu-ets. When she’s not attending historical reenactments or spouting off facts about Boston, she’s nursing patients back to health in the ICU.


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