The Name I Choose

Holly Brough

Description

Questions about Amalia’s past become more concerning when she’s uprooted at the young age of fifteen from the only life she knows and into an abusive nobleman’s household. As a young female in nineteenth-century Spain and a dominant patriarchal society, Amalia’s choices are limited. That couldn’t be more evident than in her employer’s household. Manuel Tudó watches Amalia closely. He says disturbing things about her mother and seeks opportunities to pursue her and catch her alone. His control over her and her future terrify her.

When Tudó leaves for the summer, Amalia finds solace in the arms of the future king of Spain, only to be discarded and pregnant. To keep her secret, she is forced to flee for her and her unborn child’s safety. By the way of two English naval officers, Amalia thinks she has found refuge on the small island of Menorca in the Balearic Sea. Despite the change in geographical location, however, her past continues to threaten her safety, and she realizes the male-dominated societal hierarchy remains the same. Amalia’s struggle to find her independence amid terrible events—including false promises and forced prostitution—brings her to her lowest point. She’s given an opportunity out of her situation, but first she has to forgive herself and those who hurt her to accept an unlikely ally.

Sujets

• historical
• Fiction

Informations

• Publié par: Xlibris US
• Date de parution: 09 mai 2022
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781669823674
• Langue: English

Extrait

The Name I Choose
 
 
“Brilliantly researched and told at a swift pace, The Name I Choose is a deeply exposing epic of the true resilience of the human spirit. It manages to trace the harsh realities of oppression and abuse, interspersing this with the resounding and extraordinary potency of a flicker of humanity. All told, Holly Brough is a creative minstrel with total command of the craft. Lush, unnerving, and lyrical, this visceral triumph is certainly an award- winning landmark.”
— Pacific Book Review
“The compelling drama and historical setting of this novel recall the works of the Brontë sisters, but Amalia’s desire to make her own way in a repressive society is refreshingly modern … The text expertly combines fast-paced action with tender emotional moments and historical context. These elements all work together to bring Amalia’s gripping story and her fascinating world to life.”
— US Review of Books
“The story feels grounded and authentic, which elevates the emotional impact of the story … The main character’s likeability is the best feature of the story. While the beginning of the book is intense, the rest of the story is more methodical, emotional, and thoughtful … [with] convincing historical aspects, intriguing characters, and the emotionally-charged plot.” ★★★★★
— Literary Titan
“The book’s true romance is approached in a gradual manner, marked by hesitance, wavering trust, and some hope…The book’s dramatic conclusion includes both predictable elements and encouraging ones.”
— Clarion Reviews
www.hollycnbrough.art
The Name I Choose
 
 
 
 
 
Holly Brough
 
Copyright © 2022 by Holly Brough.
 
Library of Congress Control Number:
2022908344
ISBN:
Hardcover
978-1-6698-2369-8

Softcover
978-1-6698-2368-1

eBook
978-1-6698-2367-4

 
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.
 
Note from the author - This is a work of historical fiction. Some names, characters, and places are real and certain events actually happened. In other instances, names, characters and events are a product of the author’s imagination to enhance the drama of the story.
 
Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.
Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.
 
 
Rev. date: 04/28/2023
 
 
Xlibris
844-714-8691
www.Xlibris.com
835421
 
 
 
 
 
 
For my mother, who loved books
 
SPAIN
 


MENORCA
CONTENTS
ACKNOWLEGMENTS
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
CHAPTER 32
CHAPTER 33
CHAPTER 34
CHAPTER 35
CHAPTER 36
CHAPTER 37
CHAPTER 38
CHAPTER 39
CHAPTER 40
CHAPTER 41
CHAPTER 42
CHAPTER 43
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
ACKNOWLEGMENTS
S INCE THIS STORY begins in Spain, a place I had never been until recently, there were many people who helped me integrate the Spanish language and culture into my book. I would like to thank Bill (Guillermo), Mayra, Adam, and Jarom for their assistance. There were others who gracefully accepted the task to read the first drafts of my book and give their feedback. Thank you to Karen, Connie, Angel, Dee, Joni, Michelle, Kiersten, Kathi, Meredith, Ryan, and my sweet husband, Rob. I’m grateful for my family, especially my children, who sacrificed time with Mom to let her write. I love you. To Perry and Maria for their constant encouragement and selflessly sharing their connections to make my dream a reality, thank you. And lastly, to my editor, Chersti and her team, I owe a debt of gratitude for their passion for this story and encouragement through the arduous process of editing my first book. I have learned a great deal from the team at Writer Therapy. And lastly, a thank you to John Hruby for his priceless insight and professional direction. What a journey!
 
 
 
 
 
 
A good name is rather to be chosen than great riches.
— Proverbs 22:1
PROLOGUE
Somewhere in España
1823
 
L UCITA LABORED TO lift her eyelids. Musty air filled her lungs. Nothing around her felt familiar. The ache in her bones and muscles told her she’d been sitting on the cold cobblestone floor for some time. The last thing she could recall was Anton pressed against her back, caressing her neck with his kisses, his arms cradling her belly.
Drip … drip … drip.
Her eyes finally opened to an unfamiliar room with water dripping down roughly hewn stone walls. Shivers ran through her. The reek of urine and feces hit her like a fist, causing involuntary convulsions to torment her sore body. Lucita tried to shield her nose from the smell, but ropes held her hands to a wooden post at her back. The bitter taste of bile burned the back of her throat, and she coughed.
Water. I need water. “Help. Is someone there? Help.”
A movement just out of sight caught Lucita’s attention. She craned her neck, and her breathing turned to gasps of panic. The bruised body of her fiancé dangled from the ceiling directly behind her. Sweat-drenched curls clung to his forehead.
“Anton?” she said.
An unexpected voice spoke from the shadows. “How good of you to join us, mi amor.”
Lucita froze.
Manuel Tudó appeared out of the shadows, casually wiping the moisture from his brow and patting down his disheveled hair. She struggled fiercely with her bonds.
He paced the room like a restless cat, his obsidian eyes piercing through her. When they first met during Carnival in Águilas, Manuel’s self-assured demeanor and stimulating conversation drew her to him. Smartly dressed, his manner easy and genial, Manuel won people over with his straight-toothed grin, that ever-present confident sneer. There were times, however, when he’d turned on her, violently, behind closed doors. Lucita came to know Manuel as a deceptive manipulator who played games with his victims like a cat would a mouse. She’d chosen kind, gentle Anton instead.
Lowering himself to one knee, the rejected suitor took Lucita by the shoulders and lifted her to stand. She flinched at his touch, wishing she could shield her belly from him.
“I’m sorry for your discomfort, mi amor, but I’m afraid it is necessary for the moment,” he cooed.
“Stop calling me that. I am not your love.”
Manuel chuckled as he removed something from his belt. “That is why we are here. Isn’t it, Anton?” He walked behind her, blocking her view from what happened next. Swinging chains rattled. A sickening thud. Anton screamed.
“Stop! Stop it,” Lucita begged.
Before she could mutter another word in protest, Manuel stuffed his soiled handkerchief into her mouth. Gently brushing a tear from her cheek, he said, “This is your fault, mi corazón.” Moving close enough to lean his body against her, he inhaled her scent and caressed her middle. “The ultimate betrayal is evidenced in your blossoming figure. What would people think if they found out you were unwed and carrying Anton’s child? I thought you and I shared something special.” He paused. “Of course, I am not completely unforgiving. Others would shun you, but I would protect you, Lucita.”
Lucita bit on the cloth in her mouth and scrunched her eyes shut as he prowled around her.
“We could still be together. A quick visit to Father Arnold, and no one else needs to know what you have done.”
She shot a glance toward Anton. Manuel moved past her, there was a flash of movement, and Anton cried out again. The suffocating cloth gagged her. Lucita screamed through her sobs. God help us .
Manuel ignored her. He considered the fresh blood on his leather boots. Yanking the handkerchief from her mouth, he wiped at the stains. “Love is such a filthy business.” He lifted Lucita’s chin with the ornate handle of his handmade flail. “It is a childish fantasy to think you can be with him now. He is going to die. You must see the mistake you made choosing a coward like him.”
Uncontrollable tears streamed down her ashen face. Lucita wanted to escape the agony of Anton’s deafening moans, but she knew she deserved to suffer. She’d chosen Anton knowing that Manuel, incapable of forgiveness, would take revenge, but she never considered something so heinous as this.
Manuel carefully set his tool of torture aside and wiped her tears with his bloodstained handkerchief. “Shh, mi amor.”
Lucita whispered, “I am not your love. I could never love you.”
A growl started low in his gut. His dark eyes flashed, and he heaved his flail at Anton. Only a faint protest escaped her fiancé.
“Stop. Por favor.”
Watching her gasp for air between sobs, Manuel spoke, “You could make his death mean something. You could agree to be my bride. What is your decision?”
Lucita shook her head i