Book Extract: Ancestral Virgins by Fiona J. Mackintosh

Published September 23, 2026 | By Laura

Please join me in welcoming Fiona J. Mackintosh to Novel Kicks and the blog tour for her book, Ancestral Virgins.

In early 20^th century Britain, society was changing rapidly, but not much was changing for women.

From different ends of the social spectrum, Celia Mapperley and May Hallam wrestle with rules and circumstances beyond their control and must navigate love, sex, war, and the thin line between conformity and scandal.

As they each bear the shame of a devastating family secret, their stories come together in ways that neither could have imagined.

Fiona has kindly shared an extract with us today. We hope you enjoy it.

beginning of extract

My historical novel Ancestral Virgins is set in early 20^th century Britain, when society was changing rapidly, but not much was changing for women despite the efforts of the Suffragettes. Lady Celia Mapperley is a young aristocrat who is being dragged around the marriage circuit but feels out of place and unwanted and is searching for a way to feel whole. Meanwhile, May Hallam is the youngest child of a waggoner who works on Celia’s father’s estate in Nottinghamshire. Both young women have to wrestle with rules and circumstances beyond their control and must navigate love, sex, war, and the thin line between conformity and scandal. As they each bear the shame of a devastating family secret, their stories come together in ways that neither could have imagined.

This extract is from the point of view of May Hallam as a child. Although the youngest of six siblings, she’s always been expected to take care of her brother Davey who is 16 months older and has what we now call Down’s Syndrome. In this piece, May and Davey are about 8 and 9 and have been sent out to pick up fallen branches to fuel the kitchen range, but May has become distracted.

February 1915

May noticed the light was fading. It would still be light outside the wood, but she and Davey should hurry and find some kindling before it was too dark to see. She heard the rustling of footsteps and, suddenly afraid, she called out, “Davey!” A startled pigeon burst out of the hedgerow, and then there was a crumpling sound. May jumped to her feet. Nothing moved in the treetops and the air was very still, and then all at once it was pierced by a long, high-pitched howl.

“Davey?”

She stumbled towards the direction of the howling, tripping on roots, fearing the brutal teeth of a trap snapped around his leg, and found him tipped forward on his hands and knees, almost swallowed up in a waist-high bed of nettles. “I’m here, Davey, I’m here.” It was bad but not as bad as a trap. She tried pulling at the back of his jacket, but he wouldn’t budge, howling at a higher pitch. “Davey, come on, you’ve got to help me.” The nettles were right up against his face, which was turning a mottled purple. She plunged her arms in, gritting her teeth against the stings, and seized Davey under the armpits and pulled as hard as she could. He came loose like a stubborn thistle, and they both fell backwards, his elbow hitting her in the stomach, knocking the breath out of her. She rolled him off her, her bare hands smarting. He lay on his side, still shrieking, and she thumped him on the back.

“Shut up! It’s not helping.”

Startled, he drew a breath in and before he could exhale, May clamped her hand over his mouth.

“Stop it! I know it hurts, but I can make it better.”

She took her hand away from his mouth and, as he whimpered, scrambled to her feet and pulled up handfuls of the dock leaves that grew along the edge of the nettle bed.

“Look, Davey, these’ll help. Now sit up.” She tried to act calm and stopped herself from wincing at the sight of the rising purple ridges on his face. His hands were even more raw than hers. As soon as she laid the dock leaf against the skin of his left hand, he let out a scream.

“Now come on, you’ve got to let me dab it, Davey. It’ll help, you’ll see.” She pressed on, gripping his hand tighter, as he tried to pull it away. “Now the other one. Come on Davey, try to be brave.”

Before she could stop him, he’d rubbed his eye with his other hand and the screaming began again. May sat back, her legs out in front of her and let him howl. Maybe someone would hear him and come to help. She looked up at the towering, leafless trees and saw how the darkness was spreading slowly downwards like a cloud. Her fingers were white with cold except for the slashes of rash on her palms, and inside her boots her chilblains ached.

When Davey’s screams sank to a whimper, she tried to get him to stand up.

“We have to go home. Mam’ll make it better, you’ll see she will.”

But there was no Mam with them in the wood, in the gathering dark. There was only May to decide what to do for the best. Starting to feel the beginnings of alarm, she tugged at Davey’s arm, but he wailed and turned away from her, curling into a ball. The air was heavy with coming rain, and the only sound was the rapid tap-tap-tap of a distant woodpecker. She couldn’t go to fetch help, leaving him terrified and alone in the dark, so she’d have to stay where she was, huddled against him to try to keep them both warm. She thought of making a small fire but was afraid to risk the flames and sparks. Davey’s breathing had slowed and as his lips parted, she heard a shallow snore.

As the cold worked its way to her chest, she had a sudden thought of the future, of herself in her own house with a husband and children. Would Davey still be cleaved to her then? Her brain felt tight and achy as she imagined it going on forever, his need of her, over and over into the unknown future that tipped over the horizon, but then having to leave him was not to be borne either, not knowing if he was distressed or happy, not knowing if he needed her. They were two as one, halves of the same whole, and in the cold, night-calling wood, she saw that it would never not be that way.

end of extract

About Fiona J. Mackintosh –

Fiona J. Mackintosh is a Scottish-American author living in Washington D.C. whose fiction draws from both sides of the Atlantic.

Her flash fiction collection, The Yet Unknowing World (Ad Hoc Fiction, 2021), was a runner-up for the 2021 Saboteur Award for best short story collection, and her debut novel Ancestral Virgins will be published on June 26, 2026.

Her flashes were selected for Best Small Fictions in 2023 and 2019, and her short stories have been finalists in the Cairde Word, Colm Toíbín, Bristol, Galley Beggar, Exeter, and Fish Short Story Prizes.

She is a proud recipient of an Individual Artist’s Award from the Maryland State Arts Council.

Say hello to Fiona via her website, X, Threads and Instagram.

Click to buy Ancestral Virgins on Amazon UK, Amazon US, Barnes & Noble and Waterstones.