Please join me in welcoming Adrienne Chinn to Novel Kicks and the blog tour for her novel, In the Shadow of War.

One war may be over, but their fight for survival continues…

For sisters Etta, Jessie and Celie Fry, the Great War and the hardships of the years that followed have taken a heavy toll.

Determined to leave her painful past behind her, Etta heads to the bright lights of Hollywood whilst Jessie, determined to train as a doctor and use her skills to help others, is hampered by the men who dominate her profession. On the vast, empty plains of the Canadian prairies, Celie and her small family stand on the brink of losing everything.

As whispers of a new war make their way to each sister, each must face the possibility of the unthinkable happening again…

Adrienne has shared an extract from her novel with us today. We hope you enjoy it. 

*****beginning of extract*****

The following excerpt from In the Shadow of War, takes place in July 1936 in  Barcelona, Spain, where middle Fry sister, Dr Jessie Fry Khalid, has joined her journalist friend, Ruth Bellico, for a short holiday before continuing on to London to join her daughter, Shani, at her mother’s. The People’s Olympiad is about to begin, and tourists and journalists have arrived in the city to attend, oblivious to the storm of war about to break throughout the country.

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Hotel Colon, Plaça de Catalunya, Barcelona

Late that night, after an evening wandering with Ruth down the long pedestrian street of La Rambla past shops and buildings festooned with the red flags of the socialists, the red and black flags of the anarchists, and posters announcing the Olympiad, and chatting with tourists in the queues for the food stalls hawking golden tortilla de patatas, crunchy croquettes with creamy centres, or plates of crispy fried potatoes topped with spicy tomato sauce or garlic mayonnaise, Jessie stirs sleeplessly in the comfortable bed in her hotel room. She kicks off the sheet and wanders over to the glazed doors which she has left open in the hope of catching a breeze to cool the oppressive heat.

The night is moonless, and stars glitter in the black sky. In the plaza below, there is silence, the tourists sleeping off the evening’s beers, cavas, vermouths and sangrias. Despite the buzz of excitement in the air, she couldn’t help but notice the way La Rambla split the city in two – the medieval Gothic Quarter on the east side, with its towering churches and elegant hotels, restaurants, shops and clubs; and the shacks and tenements of the working class section of El Raval on the west side.

The tourists and athletes carried a thrum of excitement with them, but beyond that, leftist street corner orators espoused their beliefs, while locals debated the reports and rumours filtering into the city from the south. She’d experienced that same nervous energy before on the streets of Cairo. It had always been the precursor to violence. That energy was like a djinni released from a magic lamp. Once it had escaped, there was no getting it back in the lamp.

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