The Lost Books: Romance and Adventure in Tudor Times
Now available in audiobook!
In a scheme to pay for his endless wars and lavish court, Henry Tudor seizes England’s rich monasteries and convents....
or
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The Lost Books: Romance and Adventure in Tudor Times
Now available in audiobook!
In a scheme to pay for his endless wars and lavish court, Henry Tudor seizes England’s rich monasteries and convents. Thousands of illuminated manuscripts are stolen and destroyed.
Squire Henry Truelove of Cornwall, hero of this novel, has simpler ambitions: to win the hand of his reluctant ladylove, Morwenna. But life...
or
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Mo Conlan
Author
Mo Conlan began her career as a writer when she became a gobbler of stories, reading through the entire children’s section of the local library. She worked for more than 30 years as a journalist, mostly wearing various hats on her hometown daily newspaper.
Since leaving newspaper work, Mo has been writing poetry and fiction and editing books. She also is an artist and was recently featured artist in the Poetry East magazine. For fun, Mo writes haiku and plays with her two cats. She makes art and hangs the colorful pieces in her home – a kind of pop-up museum.
Mo says of her novel: “This book evolved from my love of words, language and story. And my experiences of growing up a woman, with all its obstacles and opportunities. I began to think about what women in history – apart from queens and princesses – had to overcome.
My heroine Morwenna is a kind of Everywoman – oppressed by laws and yet managing by ingenuity to survive and thrive. Plus, attracting a devoted suitor -- every story deserves a little romance.”
Mo loves to do book club visits in person or over zoom. Contact her for details!
Photo by Colleen Kelly
Mo Conlan began her career as a writer when she became a gobbler of stories, reading through the entire children’s section of the local library. She worked for more than 30 years as a journalist, mostly wearing various hats on her hometown daily newspaper.
Since leaving newspaper work, Mo has been writing poetry and fiction and editing books. She also is an artist and was recently featured artist in the Poetry East magazine. For fun, Mo writes...
Latest Updates
Mo loves to talk to fellow book lovers.
Contact her if you would like her to visit your book club in person (in Cincinnati) or over Zoom.
- Get the inside scoop on why Mo chose a...
Now Available as an Audiobook
Listen to The Lost Books – Romance and Adventure in Tudor Times wherever you are.
Wonderfully narrated by Robin Ann Rapoport.
Unabridged · 8 hours, 7...
Blog
I will look for that new moon outside my bedroom window tonight. A new Moon even as I grow old. Old in numbers, that is. Inside I am still much as I was, blessed by the writing that flows through my life and connects the younger me to now. A river of goodness and “me-ness.”
Old in the sense of being long-lived brings more experiences and wisdom to write about – lost loves and broken hearts, bottom-of-a crumpled-paper-bag despair. And triumphs.
One thing old does not mean is stopping. Not...
I have a new website up and running! https://moconlanwordsandart.com
And I have a new audio edition of my book "The Lost Books-Romance and Adventure in Tudor Times."
https://www.amazon.com/Lost-Books-Romance-Adventure-Tudor/dp/1639888004
(You can also listen for free on some sites, including Hoopla.)
I got to this high point with a lot of help from my friends. Author and fellow member of the Monday Morning Writers Group in Cincinnati Richard Hoskin, (...
I could say I do not wish to be famous as a writer, but that would be a half-truth. Growing up I kept my brighter lights under a bushel barrel – middle of a “gang of seven” siblings.
I was the quiet one. Maybe I was a bit famous for that. My father saw me as I was – a quiet one, smart, a voracious reader. With affection, he would sometimes call me Little Mouse.
Inside my mouse-ness, unrecognized by me, I was burning for recognition I believe. So when I extricated myself from my brown wool...
Other Writing
After suffering a stroke and consequent fall, I have been in ER, in hospital, in rehab, and now home.
My brokenness was profound – right leg and foot frozen, broken bone in my back, slight loss of fine motor movement in my right hand – my art and writing hand.
My degree of healing since then seems nearly miraculous and has given me new appreciation of my body and my “village.”
But nothing could have prepared me for the indignity of being “patient-ized.”
The hospital was a madhouse in the...
I envy Alaskans. They find meaning in place. I live in a place that has never felt like my own, a city I am often at odds with, a climate that aggravates my sinuses, under a sky that has never made me giddy.
Under the Northern Lights and the brilliant shadow-casting sun, Alaska might have been my place.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
They say people go to Alaska looking for something. Gold. Oil. The Wild. I went looking for love.
It didn’t begin in Alaska. It began in Ohio one winter when a boy I knew...
I don’t know that I felt my true soul until I got off the airplane at Shannon airport, Ireland, and stepped into green – emerald green, mint green, cats-eye green, just-budding-tree green. Like Oz. Though I was 40 years old and this was my first visit, it felt like coming home.
I sensed at once how the culture I’d grown up in no longer fit. A culture born of Yankee adages. America writ large. Build businesses. Get on with it. Get rich. Follow the rules. Don’t cry. Get a move on. Something new...
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