04 May Rachel Elwiss Joyce Lady of Lincoln #MedievalFiction #ForgottenWomen #StrongWomen #WomenInHistory #LincolnCastle #HistoricalFiction #NicoladelaHaye #BlogTour #TheCoffeePotBookClub @RachelElwJoyce @cathiedunn

FEATURED AUTHOR: RACHEL ELWISS JOYCE

I’m delighted to welcome Rachel Elwiss Joyce as the featured author in The Coffee Pot Book Club Blog Tour being held between May 4th – 15th,  2026. Rachel Elwiss Joyce is the author of the Medieval Historical Fiction / Historical Biographical Fiction, Lady of Lincoln (Nicola de la Haye Series), published by Hedgehog Books on 27 February 2026 (462 pages). 

Below are highlights of Lady of Lincoln, Rachel Elwiss Joyce’s author bio, and an excerpt from the novel. 

Tour Schedule Page: https://thecoffeepotbookclub.blogspot.com/2026/04/blog-tour-lady-of-lincoln-by-rachel-elwiss-joyce.html

HIGHLIGHTS: LADY OF LINCOLN

Lady of Lincoln
(Nicola de la Haye Series)
by Rachel Elwiss Joyce
Narrated by Sarah Kempton

Blurb:

A true story. A forgotten heroine. In a time when women were told to stay silent, could she become the saviour her people need?

12th-century England. Nicola de la Haye wants to do her duty. But though she’s taught a female cannot lead alone, the young noblewoman bristles at the marriage her father has arranged to secure her inheritance. And when an unexpected death leaves her unguided, the impetuous girl shuns the king’s blessing and weds a handsome-but-landless knight.

Harshly fined by Henry II for her unsanctioned union, Nicola struggles to salvage her estates while dealing with devastating betrayals from her husband… and his choice to join rebels in a brewing civil war. Yet after averting a tragedy and gaining the castle garrison’s respect, she still must face the might of powerful men determined to crush her under their will.

Can she survive love, threats, and violent ambition to prove she’s worthy of authority?

In this carefully researched and vividly human series debut, Rachel Elwiss Joyce showcases the complex themes of honour, responsibility, and freedom in the story of a remarkable heroine who men tried to erase from history. And as readers dive into a world defined by violence and turmoil, they’ll be stunned by this courageous young woman’s journey toward greatness.

Lady of Lincoln is the gritty first book in the Nicola de la Haye Series historical fiction saga. If you like richly textured female heroes, courtly drama, and fast-paced intrigue, then you’ll adore Rachel Elwiss Joyce’s gripping true-life tale.

Any Triggers: A traumatic bedding ceremony, steamy scenes, violent scenes (battles, executions), childbirth scenes

Buy Link:

Universal Buy Link: https://books2read.com/u/4980nW

This title is available to read on #KindleUnlimited.

AUTHOR BIO: RACHEL ELWISS JOYCE

After a rewarding career in the sciences, Rachel returned to her first love—history and the art of storytelling. Fascinated by the women history neglected, or tried to forget, she creates meticulously researched, emotionally resonant fiction that brings her characters’ stories vividly to life.

Her fascination with the past began early. At six years old, she was already inventing tales about medieval women in castles, inspired by her treasured Ladybird books and other picture-rich stories that transported her to another time. By the time she discovered Katherine by Anya Seton as a teenager, she knew the joy and escape that only great historical fiction can bring.

Rachel’s two grown-up children still tease her (fondly) about childhoods spent being “dragged” around castles, archaeological sites, and historical re-enactments. For Rachel, history and imagination have always gone hand in hand.

There was, however, a long gap between the stories of her childhood and her decision to write her own novel. The spark came when she discovered the remarkable true story of Nicola de la Haye—the first female sheriff of England, who defended Lincoln Castle against a French invasion and became known as “the woman who saved England,” Rachel knew she had found her heroine, and a story she was destined to tell.

Rachel lives in the UK, where she continues to explore the lives of women who shaped history but were left out of its pages.

Author Links:

Website     Twitter / X     Facebook     Instagram

Bluesky     Book Bub     Amazon Author Page     Goodreads

EXCERPT: LADY OF LINCOLN

Two hours later, Nicola sat astride her grey mare, Moonbeam, grinning at the pale crimson fingers of sunlight fanning out across the sky and casting a golden glow on the Lawn. A lone sergeant appeared on the battlements above the gatehouse, looking their way.

She squinted. “It’s only Leif. He won’t tell.”

Suardinc, gangly and flame-haired, sat on her father’s spare gelding. He nodded. Leif, a common soldier, had become Suardinc’s only friend. He’d keep their secret. They were safe until the breakfast horn.

Nicola’s spear rested in her hand; her reins draped loosely across the pommel. Suardinc clutched a training lance, his freckled arm straining under the weight. His mount tossed its head, restless. They’d trained hard; but she wasn’t done with him yet.

She tugged her skirts higher and tucked them under her thighs. Her gowns always got in the way when she was riding, as if ladies’ clothes were designed by men to keep their women from galloping free.

“Your riding’s stronger,” she said. “You’re holding the lance better. But knights don’t ride with reins. They hold a shield in one hand, a lance in the other.”

Suardinc shifted nervously. “Sir Edwin’ll have me thrashed if I’m late.”

Nicola flicked a braid over her shoulder. She had to teach him. If he didn’t earn respect now, he never would. “You grip the reins like you’re afraid to fall. You need to guide the horse with your legs and hips. In battle, you ride hands-free, knee-to-knee with your comrades.”

Suardinc’s horse pawed the ground nervously, rolling its eyes. Suardinc looked even more nervous, but she was sure her instructions were correct. She’d spent years watching Edwin drill the squires and soldiers, and, as the constable’s daughter, she’d probably heard more of the garrison commander’s lessons than anyone else alive; certainly more than her sister Julia, whose only interest was dressing in fine clothes and perfuming her golden hair.

“Before we finish,” she said, “you’ll learn to ride without hands.”

Suardinc hesitated, then nodded and looped the reins over the saddle horn. “No hands,” he murmured. His lance wobbled.

Nicola wheeled Moonbeam in a tight circle. “We’ll ride together in close formation. When we’ve mastered that, we’ll try it with shields.”

Suardinc gaped. “With you?”

She raised her chin, feigning confidence. “Why not? I know I’m only using a spear, not a lance, but I’m a competent rider.”

“But your father… If he found us riding so close together.”

She winced. Papa would be furious. “Nonsense. We’re only training.” And Papa would never need to know. “Control your horse with your body. Grip with your thighs. Let your hips move with his stride. Use your left leg to keep him close. Match my pace and keep formation—your knee close to mine. Ready?”

“Aye,” he said, his mouth set in a grim line.

“Walk on,” she called, pressing her calves to Moonbeam’s sides.

Suardinc nudged his mount forwards, his lance quivering as he matched her pace. Their knees hovered inches apart, his gelding’s shoulder brushing her mare’s.

“That’s it!” she called, forcing herself to sound confident. “Sit deep, nudge left, hold steady!”

Suardinc’s horse sidled closer. The lance held.

“Now!” Nicola kicked Moonbeam into a trot, moving with her mare’s rhythm. She kept the spear level.

Suardinc kept pace. His lance wobbled, but he smiled.

“Deeper in the saddle!” she shouted over the thunder of hooves and wind shrieking in her ears.

Lances level. Horses tight. Knees brushing.

“Faster!”

Moonbeam surged into a canter. Suardinc’s gelding leapt forwards. The pair galloped as one; flanks grazing, legs pumping, riders balanced and bold.

“Yes!” Nicola cried.

The world blurred into a wild smear of green grass and castle walls. The wind roared, sharp and alive, tugging her braids and stinging her cheeks. Her heart pounded in time with the thundering hooves, each beat a drumroll of pure, reckless joy as her mare surged beneath her, powerful and wild, mane whipping back like a banner. Nicola leaned low, her body one with her mare as the two riders and the two horses thundered across the earth.

She’d never felt so alive. She laughed, a wild, unladylike sound bursting from her chest. If a knight’s life was like this—full of boundless, reckless freedom—why had God made her a weak woman, confining her to a world of endless, boring duties?

“Lady Nicola!” a man’s voice called.

Nicola kept riding.

“Lady Nicola!” the man repeated, bringing her back to her senses.

She slowed Moonbeam. Suardinc followed suit.

A thickset figure stood at the far end of the bridge, arms crossed. Edwin.

“You did well,” she said to Suardinc. “Next time we use shields.”

Suardinc opened his mouth, then closed it.

Edwin stalked towards them, shoulders rigid beneath his surcoat. “Suardinc,” he growled, “get off Lord de la Haye’s horse and return to the barracks. Now.”

“Aye, Sir Edwin.” Suardinc dismounted, face flushed, and led the gelding towards the bridge.

Nicola, still breathless, smiled down at Edwin.

He frowned, but his eyes sparkled with reluctant amusement.

 “You taught me well,” she said. “We rode in close formation.”

He scowled. “You’re not a man, Lady Nicola. And you never will be. You’ve women’s duties to perform. The whole castle’s looking for you. Your father may have a male heir before the day’s out. Your mother’s travail’s begun. You’re expected at the birth.”

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