Today is the First Sunday of Advent. Like Lent, which comes before Easter, Advent is a time of preparation. But while Lent is a time for penance and reconciliation, Advent is a time of contemplation and growth. By prayer and good works, we make ready—ourselves and others—for the birth of Jesus and the renewal of the world. Like most religions, our feast of birth and new growth coincides with the physical turning of the world and the coming of light into the dark of winter. Happy Advent!

Like Lent, Advent is a journey—and when you set out on an important journey… you make preparations.

[Excerpt from Book Ten (Untitled); Copyright © 2023 Diana Gabaldon]

Rather to William’s surprise, Fraser appeared for departure clad in a faded plaid with a ragged edge, this worn with a hunting shirt shadowed with ancient bloodstains, and a belt from which depended an assortment of weaponry and a small goatskin bag whose purpose was a mystery. Homespun stockings and a cartridge box hung from a strap over his shoulder completed the ensemble.

“Camouflage,” Fraser said with a shrug, answering William’s look.

“What?”

“Oh.” Fraser was evidently taken aback for a moment, and his face reflected an extraordinarily rapid series of uninterpretable thoughts. “It’s, ah… from the French, I think. Camouflet, ye ken that one?”

“I don’t, no. What does it mean?”

“Aye, well—camouflet is a whiff of smoke that ye blow in someone’s face. Camouflage just means ye want folk not to notice what ye are or ask what ye’re up to.”

“And…that is camouflage, is it?” William asked skeptically, gesturing at Fraser’s kilt. “You look like a bandit.”

Fraser smiled.

“Aye. And what would ye do, if ye met a bandit on the road? Stop and ask him his business?”

“I take your point.”

As he spoke the words, he had a sudden odd qualm and a coldness down his jaw.

Fraser’s smile changed to a look of mild concern.

“What is it, lad, are ye taken queer?”

“I—no,” William said abruptly. “I”m fine. And what, may I ask, am I meant to be, if you’re taken for a bandit? Your accomplice?”

“If necessary,” Fraser said, “but I suppose ye could be my prisoner, in case of need. There’s a bit o’ rope in my saddlebags.”

“Jesus,” William muttered, and Fraser laughed. The man was in bloody high spirits, for someone snatched away from hearth and home to go off on what anyone might legitimately call a crackbrained venture.

On the other hand, he reflected, maybe he’s glad to get away from his tenants…

Mother Claire appeared at this point, with several packages in her arms, and Frances behind her, similarly burdened.

“Food for the day,” Mother Claire said, handing her husband a cloth bag that smelled pleasantly of cheese, cold meat and dried fruit. “Food for tomorrow,” and she handed William a similar bag. “And after that, you’re on your own for nourishment.”

“What’s this?” William asked, as she handed him a cloth-wrapped bundle that didn’t smell of food.

“Bandages,” she replied succinctly, and handed him a small wooden box. “And medicines for diarrhea and constipation.”

“Ah. I’m sure those will be helpful,” he said, gingerly stuffing the medical items in his haversack.

“I really hope not,” she said, giving him a bleak look. “But I’ve known your father far too long to have illusions.”

“What about drink?” Fraser interrupted, with what even William could see was mock innocence.

“Just here,” Frances said, with modest triumph, and handed over two similar bags, these clinking and sloshing as they moved. She met William’s eye with a tranquil face—no trace of what had happened in the stable half an hour before.

The qualm fluttered through him once again, but this time he knew what it was. Jane. Standing just behind his shoulder.

“I take your point,” he’d said to her, once.

“Well, that’s a novelty,” she’d replied. “It’s usually the other way round.”

“Goodbye, Frances,” he said abruptly, and turned to mount his horse, consciously not looking as Fraser took farewell of his wife.

[end section]

Click to visit my Book Ten webpage for information on this book, and to read more excerpts from it.

Photo is by me, Diana.

This excerpt and introduction was also posted on Sunday, December 3, 2023 on my official Facebook page.

This excerpt was also posted with the temporary title “Camouflage” on Monday, September 20, 2023. And also on my official Facebook page.

Posted on December 03, 2023 12:45 AM 2 Comments

Well…

A brand-new Outlander coloring book is available now. The Outlander Coloring Book, Volume 2 features forty-five all-new illustrations. The thrilling world of Outlander awaits! (Publisher’s hyperbole, you know…?)

ANYway…The Outlander Coloring Book, Volume 2 is indeed out today, and available pretty much everywhere. ALL the buy-links from various retailers are available on the publisher’s page for this book:

https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/725652/the-official-outlander-coloring-book-volume-2-by-diana-gabaldon/

Publisher’s Description (Volume 2):

Diana Gabaldon’s acclaimed series is brought to life in this spectacular coloring book featuring forty-five all-new illustrations. The thrilling world of Outlander awaits!

From the bustling market streets of Paris to the resplendent court of Versailles, through secret passageways into forbidden apothecaries and onto battlefields to fight for freedom, the colorful world of Claire Beauchamp Randall and Jamie Fraser is now yours to explore. Featuring gorgeous natural landscapes of Scotland and France, detailed drawings of royal court fashion, and heartwarming scenes from Jamie and Claire’s epic love story from renowned illustrators Ana Jaren, Ben Perini, Cat Willett, Matthew Land, Mélanie Delon, and Monika Roe, this official Outlander coloring book will welcome you back into the beloved series with open arms and plenty to drink.

The Official Outlander Coloring Book, Volume 1

The beautiful first volume of the Official Outlander Coloring Book was first published on October 27, 2015, and features forty-five illustrations to color. It is still available for purchase.

ALL the buy-links from various retailers are available on the publisher’s page for the original coloring book, also:

https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/535337/the-official-outlander-coloring-book-by-diana-gabaldon/

Publisher’s description (Volume 1):

The world of Outlander awaits!

From the lush green of the Scottish Highlands to the military red of a British soldier’s coat or the vibrant hues of a tartan kilt, the colorful world of Claire Beauchamp Randall and Jamie Fraser is now yours to explore. Featuring gorgeous natural landscapes, detailed drawings of Claire’s medicinal herbs, depictions of the books’ most beloved scenes and characters, and intricately rendered clothing, weapons, and armor straight out of eighteenth-century Scotland, these exquisite black-and-white images—from renowned illustrators Juan Alarc&oacute:n, Yvonne Gilbert, Craig Phillips, Jon Proctor, Tomislav Tominć, and Rebecca Zomchek—are designed to dazzle and inspire. Fans of the series, as well as lovers of history and art, can party like it’s 1743.

Pull out your colored pencils, markers or watercolor paints! My webmistress, Loretta, loves these. She was introduced to coloring books for adults over a decade ago. Both creative and good stress reliever, she says, plus “you get to choose your own colors for everything in the Outlander universe.” <g>

Enjoy! And drop me a line in the web comments below. Remember that web comments are public and are moderated.

-Diana

P.S. Should you happen to want a signed copy, either of #1 or #2, I was just by the Poisoned Pen a couple of days ago, and signed at least a hundred copies of Volume 2, plus a few of Volume 1 they had on hand.

https://store.poisonedpen.com/browse/diana-gabaldon

Posted on October 17, 2023 9:16 PM 2 Comments

Just to pass the time—for those interested, here’s the video of my talk at American Revolution Museum at Yorktown last month:

https://vimeo.com/868319035

(as you can no doubt tell from my appearance, it was a Very Warm evening and there were 400 people in a smallish space…)

More about the American Revolution Museum…

Surrey Conference and Local Signing

Well, it’s October…which means that the Surrey International Writers Conference is coming Right Up…

This is the only conference that I do every year—this will be my 32nd, I think… (This is Surrey, British Columbia (i.e., Canada) we’re talking about, btw—not the one in England.) See my appearances page for more information.

And while it may be a bit late to come to the conference this year, there will be a special Reading and Signing event that’s connected to the conference, but open to the public. Here’s the announcement from the conference coordinator:

Hello!

If you’re not attending an SiWC Thursday evening master class on October 19, we have something wonderful for your calendar: a reading and signing event hosted by our independent bookstore, Western Sky Books, in partnership with The Royal City Literary Arts Society. Come hear and get your books signed by Diana Gabaldon, Sonali Dev, and Renee Sarojini Saklikar from 7-9 p.m. on October 19 at the Community Art Space at Unit 103-78 10th Street, Columbia Plaza Square, New Westminster.

Posted on October 09, 2023 8:20 AM No Comments

Phew… is what’s on my mind…

VERY quick trip to a smoky New York five days ago for the Season 7 Premiere of Outlander! (Though we did fit in a quick visit to the Met…)

Wonderful to see everyone, and a Real Thrill to watch Episode 1 with a theater of Hugely Enthusiastic fans!

I’m sure y’all will be equally delighted to see it, too! Do let me know what you think!

Yes, I am short.

-Diana

Outlander, Season 7

“In order to protect what they’ve built, the Frasers have to navigate the Revolutionary War. They learn that sometimes to defend what you love, you have to leave it behind.”

The first episode of Season 7 of Outlander is available from Starz in the U.S.A. through streaming online, the Starz app, or the Starz cable network.

The new season is also available on cable networks and streaming services around the world. (See below.)

Season 7 begins with episode 701, ‘A Life Well Lost,’, in which “Jamie races towards Wilmington to rescue Claire from the gallows, only to discover that the American Revolution has well and truly reached North Carolina.”

Click to watch the Season 7 trailer on Youtube, released a few months ago.

In the U.S.A. – Starz Network and Streaming:

Season 7 consists of sixteen episodes, with the the premiere released today on the Starz website and streaming app at midnight (Eastern time) in the U.S.A. The next seven episodes of the first half of Season 7 will be released each Friday in the weeks after on the Starz website or app for streaming at the same time.

On the Starz cable channel, the first episode will premiere today at 5 p.m. Pacific Time (8 p.m. Eastern Time).  The next seven episodes of the first half of Season 7 will be shown each Friday in the weeks after on the Starz cable channel at the same time.

The second half of Season 7, another eight episodes, will be shown in 2024 in the U.S.A., with a release date to be determined.

For those who are new to the Outlander tv series, Seasons 1 through 6 are available for streaming on the Starz website and app.

Seasons 1-5 of Outlander are apparently available to stream on Netflix, also. A new season of Outlander is usually released on Netflix two years after the finale episode airs on Starz in the U.S.A.. So Season 7 may be available to stream on Netflix sometime in 2025.

Global Release of Outlander, Season 7

For viewers outside the U.S.A., please check with your local cable network and streaming services for all options, which differ from country to country (much like book publishing!). Below is information that has been announced for some countries for Outlander Season 7 by a CNET article:

Canada – W Network. Season 7 will premiere on Sunday, June 18, at 9 p.m. (Eastern and Pacific times).

United Kingdom – Lionsgate Plus. Streaming service Lionsgate Plus has the rights to show Outlander Season 7 exclusively in the U.K.. Like the U.S.A., the new season premiere will be released on Friday, June 16, with new episodes being added once per week. Lionsgate Plus is also available as a channel add-on for Amazon Prime Video in the U.K.

Australia – Foxtel and Binge. Outlander season 7 debuts Fox One on Saturday, June 17, at 7:30 p.m. (AEST). If you don’t have a cable package that carries Fox One, an alternative option is the streaming service Binge, which will have the new season on demand.

Countries including Belgium, France, India, Malaysia, Japan, Hong Kong, Poland, South Korea, and Singapore will have access to weekly episodes of Outlander Season 7 on Netflix alongside its release on Starz in the U.S.A. (above), as was done with Season 6.

Netherlands, Australia, Argentina, Brazil, South Africa, Mexico, and Sweden will have access to Season 7 on Netflix one year after its premiere on Starz, likely a June, 2024 release.

CNET’s article also mentions the use of VPNs (Virtual Private Networks) for streaming the new season, but that’s only for the very tech savvy to attempt, IMHO. <g>

The Outlander television series is produced by Starz, Sony, and Tall Ship Productions.

Information on the premiere and release dates outside the U.S.A. are thanks to CNET and Collider articles.

Posted on June 16, 2023 12:00 AM 27 Comments

Sorry to be MIA—we went to New Orleans for several days (just for fun, weirdly enough <g>—ate, slept, walked around looking at interesting things and listening to great music) and I didn’t take my laptop with me.

I did get a bit of work done, though, in the middle of the nights (the ones where I woke up in time…):

I don’t think anything in this excerpt constitutes a spoiler, but it is from Book Ten.

[Excerpt from UNTITLED BOOK TEN. Copyright © 2023 Diana Gabaldon.]

I uncurled the tiny fist to check again. I’d caught only a glimpse, but… By reflex, I turned my left hand up and glanced at my own palm. It was a maze of wandering lines: head, heart, life, love, fate—and dozens more caused by the daily wear of age and work. A net to catch an unknown future.

But the twitching little starfish in my right hand was almost a blank slate, save for a single smooth, deep line across the upper palm. Only one. The Merck Manual of Diagnosis called it a simian crease.

The little fingers curled again, gripping my index finger. Weak, but definitely a grasping reflex. The birth had been easy—it was Mhairi MacDonald’ eighth labor, but things could go wrong with any birth. Apgar scores were on the low side, but tolerable—with the exception of some of the other reflexes; I couldn’t get a Babinski reflex at all—and the muscle tone overall, which was… the baby gave a sort of floppy, convulsive movement that nearly spilled her off my lap and made a grunting squeak that wasn’t quite a cry.

“Shh, sweetheart, I’ve got you… don’t worry, everything will be fine…” I picked her up and cuddled her—small, but warm and solid, wrapped in her older brother’s shirt, for lack of a blanket—against my shoulder and glanced at the mother, a cold, heavy feeling in my chest.

I knew. Had known by the time I’d started swabbing the little body with oil. Not all the signs were there, but… enough. The flattened nose, the unusual space between the big toe and the second toe… What could I—what should I tell them?

Old Mrs. MacDonald was helping her daughter, kneading her flaccid belly with a firm but kindly touch, whispering what I thought was a blessing in Gaidhlig. Mhairi lay on her sweat-soaked pillow, breathing slowly, eyes half-shut, making little grunts that sounded not unlike her new daughter’s.

Maybe I shouldn’t say anything …specific. “Down’s Syndrome” would mean nothing to anyone in this time, let alone “Trisomy of Chromosome 21”. There was no telling how much cognitive impairment there might be; perhaps only a little, perhaps it wouldn’t be very noticeable. And in this time, when girls largely worked in house and field and took care of children, it mightn’t matter that much; maybe she could function well enough in the bosom of her family.

If she could nurse. If she couldn’t, she likely wouldn’t live long. Her mouth was slightly open, filled by a large, protrusive tongue. I laid her on my lap again and stroked her cheek lightly. Her ears were still pink and slightly crumpled from birth, but looked normal, though small. Her eyes looked somewhat slanted, but were still tight closed, lashes invisible, but she turned her head at once at my touch, snuffling.

Rooting reflex. Check.

“Good,” I whispered. “Can you suck, sweetheart?”

My hands weren’t clean enough for me to consider sticking a finger in her mouth to try. We’d have to wait and see. I glanced over at the bed, half-hidden in darkness. Mrs. MacDonald was still kneading, but her head was raised and she was looking at me as she worked, a deep crease between her brows. Her mouth was pressed tight, but it dawned on me that neither I nor the child was her immediate concern.

“What is the word for a placenta in Gaidhlig?” I asked, rising to my feet with the baby. Mrs. MacDonald blinked and knuckled away a bead of perspiration running down her cheek. The door and window were closed to keep out flies drawn to the scent of blood, so there was a fire to provide light and hot water, and all of us—except the baby—were sweating in the moving shadows.

She shrugged. “There’s some as says “birth-cake’. That’s breith-cèic.” She glanced down at her working hands. “Whatever ye choose to call it, this one’s no lettin’ go.” There was a note of strain in her voice, though her gnarled old hands kept up a steady kneading.

“I have something that might help,” I offered. I’d brought my birthing kit along in a cloth bag. The bag didn’t have everything, but it did have dried raspberry leaves. A strong tea aided labor; it might—I hoped—dislodge an uncooperative placenta. I would have put the child to Mhairi’s breast to suckle, but given my doubts… best start with the tea.

Mrs. MacDonald hesitated for a moment, hands stilled and brows knit. Old Mrs. MacDonald thinks you’re a witch, Fanny had told me. But it doesn’t matter, because Mr. MacDonald is afraid of Mr. Fraser. She stared at me, eyes narrowed, but then glanced down at her gasping daughter, and gave in.

“Gie’ me the wean and do what ye can,” she said abruptly.

Click to visit my Book Ten webpage for information on this book, and to read more excerpts from it.

This excerpt was posted on my official Facebook page on March 11, 2023.

Posted on March 11, 2023 11:51 PM 14 Comments

The Poisoned Pen, my hometown independent bookstore, asked me to share some special offers on books written by Sam Heughan and Graham MacTavish, two great guys and very talented actors. (And both are quite fetching in kilts. <g>)

For those who are new to the Outlander TV series, Sam Heughan is the actor who plays Jamie Fraser. Graham MacTavish portrays Jamie’s uncle, Dougal MacKenzie. Graham was also cast as Buck MacKenzie, the son of Dougal MacKenzie and Geillis Duncan.

Enjoy!

-Diana

With a new memoir centered on New Zealand coming in November from Sam Heughan and Graham MacTavish, the Poisoned Pen bookstore offers the following:

WAYPOINTS: My Scottish Journey

WAYPOINTS: My Scottish Journey by Sam Heughan (Radar, U.K., $60). This is Special Pricing for the U.K. edition signed by Sam in London on the title page and in Scottsdale by Diana on the title page, too. Click to purchase WAYPOINTS from the Pen.

In this journey of self-discovery, Sam Heughan sets out along the West Highland Way to explore his heritage and reflect on the personal waypoints that define him. The result is a love letter to the wild Scottish landscape that means so much to Sam, and a charming, funny, wise and searching insight to the world through his eyes.

Each of the copies of WAYPOINTS from the Pen comes with a charming little book from a Nova Scotia Press called IAIN OF SCOTLAND. Signed by Diana Gabaldon, who wrote the Introduction to the book. It includes a glossary of terms and tells the story of a boy…

 It’s September 1773, and Iain has just arrived in Nova Scotia with his parents and little sister after the long, disastrous, Atlantic voyage of the ship Hector. They wanted a new life in New Scotland — but the land agent lied to them. With no money, no food, no shelter, and winter fast approaching, how will they survive?

CLANLANDS: Whisky, Warfare, And An Adventure Like No Other

The Pen has a few remaining copies of CLANLANDS: Whisky, Warfare, And An Adventure Like No Other by Sam Heughan and Graham MacTavish (Mobius publishing, $25). These are signed by Diana Gabaldon on the first page of her foreward to the book. Also includes a book plate with a facsimile of Sam Heughan and Graham McTavish’s signatures. A New York Times Number-One Bestseller! Click to purchase CLANLANDS from the Pen.

A road trip book with a difference. Stars of Outlander—Sam Heughan and Graham McTavish—explore Scotland. From their faithful camper van to boats, kayaks, bicycles, and motorbikes, join these two Scotsmen as they explore a land of raw beauty, poetry, feuding, music, and warfare.

Sam and Graham begin their journey in the heart of Scotland at Glencoe and travel all the way to Inverness and Culloden battlefield; along the way they experience adventure and a cast of interesting highland characters. In this journey of finding themselves, friendship, and whisky, they discover the complexity, rich history and culture of their native country.

CLANLANDS ALMANAC: Seasonal Stories From Scotland

And still available: CLANLANDS ALMANAC: Seasonal Stories From Scotland by Graham MacTavish and Sam Heughan (Mobius $19.99). This hardcover edition (red cover) is signed by Diana and includes a book plate with a facsimile of signatures of Sam and Graham. Click to purchase the CLANLANDS ALMANAC from the Pen.

A seasonal meander through the wilds of Scotland.

If CLANLANDS was a gentle road trip through Scotland, this almanac is a top-down, pedal-to-the-metal, up-and-down odyssey through the many byways of a Scottish year. An invitation to anyone who picks up the book to join us on a crazy camper van exploration over 12 glorious, whisky-fueled months. Mountains, battles, famous (and infamous) Scots, the alarming competitiveness of ‘Men in Kilts,’ clans, feuds, flora, fauna, with a healthy sprinkling of embarrassing personal reminiscences thrown in. Much is explored, all is shared. It is a camper van cornucopia of all things Alba.

One U.K. first printing of the CLANLANDS ALMANAC: Seasonal Stories From Scotland signed by Sam Heughan in London remains ($100). Contact the Pen’s friendly sales staff for more information on this last copy with Sam’s signature.

Always In Stock: Outlander and Lord John Books Signed By Diana

The Pen sells new signed copies of Diana’s books online, and will ship anywhere in the world. You pay only for the list price of the book plus shipping. There is no charge for Diana’s signature. See the Pen’s dedicated webpage for Diana’s books. Or contact the Pen.

Posted on February 21, 2023 5:12 AM No Comments

Well, aside from incessant travel, a new puppy (our son’s, but he comes over to run around in our big backyard), 2-300 emails a day, and the Rancho Mirage Writers Festival (at which I accidentally had breakfast with Alan Dershowitz)…you know, not that much…

But I’m digging my way through the email and engagements—but also writing, so thought I’d share a bit of Book Ten, for fun.

[EXCERPT FROM UNTITLED BOOK TEN, Copyright © 2023 Diana Gabaldon – possible spoiler, but not likely]

William opened his eyes and lay still. He’d got used to not knowing quite where he was upon wakening, save when he slept in the woods. Woods at night are mysterious places, and his inner ear heard sounds all night, some deep part of his brain evidently recognizing and dismissing things like wind through leaves, the falling of acorns or the patter of rain on the canvas of his lean-to, but still sensitive enough to apprise him of the heavy pad of a walking bear nearby—to say nothing of the branches snapping in its path.

The result of this behavior on the part of his brain was to keep him aware of his circumstances all night and thus unsurprised at dawn, even if he never woke all the way.

He’d slept like a log last night, though, worn out from his journey, plied with good, hot food and as much alcohol as he could drink. His memory of going to bed was confused, but he was lying now on the floor of an empty room—he felt the smooth boards under his hands, something warm over him. Light filtered through a burlap-covered window…

And quite suddenly, the thought was just there in his mind, without warning.

I’m in my father’s house.

“Jesus,” he said aloud, and sat up, blinking. All of the day before came flooding back, a jumble of effort, sweat and worry, climbing through forest and cliffs, and finally seeing a large, handsome house emerge, its glass—glass. In this wilderness?—windows twinkling in the sun, incongruous amid the trees.

He’d pushed himself and the horse past fear and fatigue, and then—there he was, just sitting on the porch. James Fraser.

There had been other people on the porch and in the yard, but he hadn’t noticed any of them. Just him. Fraser. He’d spent miles and days deciding what to say, how to describe the situation, frame his request—and in the end, had simply ridden right up to the porch, breathless, and said, “Sir, I need your help.”

He drew a deep breath and rubbed both hands through his disordered hair, reliving that moment. Fraser had risen at once, came down the steps, took him by the arm. And said, “You have it.”

“You have it,” he repeated softly, to himself. Yesterday, that had been enough—the relief of knowing help was at hand. The relief was still with him, but other things had crept in while he slept.

The thought of Papa was still a blade in his chest and a stone in his belly. He hadn’t forgotten, even under the onslaught of people and the comfort of a lot of whisky.

There had been an avalanche of people, flooding out of the house, running from the yard and from what seemed to be a party going on under a huge tree. He’d noticed only three people in the swirling mass: Mother Claire, little Fanny, and a few moments later, his sister.

Sister. He hadn’t expected to find Brianna here. He’d been too stunned, by fear, dread, apprehension, fury and desperation, all happening at once, to even try to imagine his reception at Fraser’s Ridge. And, he admitted to himself, because I could scarcely stay in the saddle, and if I’d tried to make the speech I’d thought out, I’d have fallen on my face before I got the first sentence out.

But he had got it out, and he’d got his answer.

The encouragement of that was enough to get him on his feet. The thing that had covered him was a homely piece of knitting the color of vomit, and he folded it carefully and set it aside. He looked about for a utensil of some sort, and found a battered tin pot, placed by the door with a large bottle beside it, with a label tied round its neck, reading “Drink Me.” He pulled the cork and sniffed. Water. Exactly what he needed, and he drank thirstily, holding the bottle with one hand and unbuttoning his breeches with the other.

He’d just about finished when the door opened. He choked, spraying water, and tried to cover himself with his other hand.

“Good morning, William,” Fanny said. “I brought you something to break your fast. But there’s porridge and bacon downstairs. When you’re wead-ready.” She was holding a thick slice of buttered bread and a wooden cup that smelled like beer, and looked amused.

“Thank you, Fanny,” he said, buttoning his breeches with what dignity he could summon. “Ah…how have you been?”

“Very well, thank you,” she said, and straightened her back, thrusting a pair of new small breasts into sudden prominence. “I’ve learnt how to talk. Prroperly,” she added, rolling her ‘r’s slightly.

“So I perceive,” he said, smiling. “Your voice is lovely, Frances. Is that beer?”

“It is. I made it,” she said proudly, and handed him the cup.

It was small beer, and noticeably sour, but he was still thirsty and it went down without effort. So did the bread and butter, which he wolfed in a few bites. Frances watched him with approval.

“Why is it that women like to feed men?” he asked, swallowing the last mouthful. “We’re very grateful, of course, but it seems a good deal of effort for little gain.”

She’d gone a bit pink in the face, and he thought she looked like a small flower, the sort you found hiding in the grass in a spring meadow.

“Mrs. Fraser says women want to keep things alive, and men want to kill things,” she said, taking the empty cup. “But we need men to do that for us, so we feed them.”

“Indeed,” he said, rather startled at hearing this sort of opinion attributed to Mother Claire.

“Are you going to kill the man who took Lord John?” she asked seriously. Her flush had faded, and her eyes were serious. “I listened. I heard what you told Mith-Mister Fraser.”

He took a deep breath, and felt the fresh-scented air of the woods cleanse him of the last traces of fatigue.

“Yes, Frances,” he said. “I am.”

[end section]

Click to visit my Book Ten webpage for information on this book, and to read more excerpts from it.

Some folk asked for a photo of my son’s (Sam Sykes) new puppy (above). This is Arby, aged three months. His mother was (we’re told) a French bulldog, and his father is, um, unknown (but I kind of suspect one of the local coyotes, given his long legs and markings). Very sweet and smart!

He’s got those sort of watered-silk markings on his back legs that some French Bulldogs have—though his actual coat looks a LOT more like a coyote…

This excerpt was posted on my official Facebook page on February 10, 2023.

Posted on February 10, 2023 4:38 PM 10 Comments

So…. we got news!

OUTLANDER, SEASON 8 is greenlit!

and,

so is the OUTLANDER PREQUEL (BLOOD OF MY BLOOD)!

Let there be rejoicing!!!

Season 8 – Ten Episodes

The Starz Outlander TV series has been renewed for Season 8. Ten episodes will be produced in this final season.

Click to watch the announcement video on Youtube in a new browser window.

What About Season 7?

Season 7 of Outlander is currently in production, and will have 16 episodes in total. It is slated to premiere in the summer of 2023, and is based on AN ECHO IN THE BONE, the seventh in my Outlander series of major novels.

Prequel: The Story of Jamie’s Parents

Starz has also greenlit a prequel series to the current Outlander TV show today. “Outlander: Blood of My Blood” will tell the story of Jamie’s parents, Brian Fraser and Ellen MacKenzie. I will serve as a consulting producer.

Read the first excerpt from my prequel novel about Brian and Ellen.

Matthew B. Roberts will be the executive producer and write episodes for “Outlander: Blood of my Blood,” along with Ronald D. Moore and Maril Davis of Tall Ship Productions. Roberts will also serve as the showrunner.

The Outlander TV series is produced by Tall Ship Productions, Left Bank Pictures and Story Mining & Supply Company, in association with Sony Pictures Television.

Stay tuned…

-Diana

Posted on January 19, 2023 3:05 PM 40 Comments

What do you-all do when a new birthday looms—or stretches out enticingly before you, like a friendly dog wanting a belly-rub? Look back? Look forward? Or just sit quietly and enjoy the moment?

I’m inclined to the last option there. I try to take a few deliberate minutes, to sit in my office in the depths of the night and Just Be. Whatever I am now, I won’t be again. On the other hand, what I am now, and what I’ve been every day since I was conceived, will go on with me in some form.

But it’s worthwhile checking, to see what’s me, and what might be mere baggage that I’m carrying—for myself, or another. Nothing wrong with baggage, but you ought to pack carefully; you don’t know how far you may have to carry it.

And, like Claire—you may have only today in which to prepare.

[Excerpt from UNTITLED BOOK 10, Copyright © 2023 Diana Gabaldon. No spoilers if you’ve read GO TELL THE BEES THAT I AM GONE, but if you haven’t, then there definitely are…]

I woke with a list in my head. This was by no means unusual, but this list came with a spurt of adrenaline attached. I had—at most—only today in which to prepare not only to leave the Ridge for an unknown stretch of time, but to prepare the Ridge for being left.

I swung my feet out of bed, heart already speeding up, and then sat for a moment, trying to focus on what had to be done first. Well, that was simple… I fished the chamberpot out from under the bed and saw that it was clean and dry. Which meant either that Jamie had risen early and considerately gone out to the privy, or that he’d got up in the night and pissed out the window. While I had personally never felt the lack of a penis, I did admit that it was a handy thing to have along on a picnic…

My own sanitary needs being accomplished, I was clear-headed enough to brush my teeth, splash water over my face and run my wet hands through my hair. The hair was unlikely to be improved by the experience, but my hands were dry enough to pull my stockings on.

List…

Find something like coffee.

Drink coffee-like substance.

Eat whatever was left over from yesterday’s feast, while inspecting pantry, pie-safe, simples closet and large cauldron Compile mental sublist of things to be found, things needing to be collected or dug up, put in cauldron to begin cooking…

Sylvia and her daughters had ceremoniously removed to Bobby’s cabin last night. I was happy for them all, but it did leave me somewhat short-handed. So… summon Fanny, Joanie and Fizzy and give them my list to start working on. Find Bree and run through separate list of people who might give trouble—medical, political or otherwise—over the next… how long?

“God knows,” I muttered. William had been looking for Lord John for three months [ck time]; what if Richardson had decided to take him to London and denounce him to the House of Lords or something?

Find Roger…. no, Jamie would already have found Roger and informed him that he was now, de facto, Himself for the foreseeable future.

Back to the list… By now, I was padding downstairs in my stocking-feet, shoes in hand.

Send Jem or Germain or the girls for Jenny and Rachel. Feed them first, my subconscious chimed in.

I inhaled hopefully. Yes, I could smell porridge and toast. And bacon? Yes, definitely bacon. Likely they were already eating, then. I was ravenous, in spite of everything I’d eaten yesterday.

Would Jenny and Rachel want to come down to the big house while Ian was gone with us? Company and help for Brianna… all those children… but then there were Jenny’s goats to be considered…

I emerged into the kitchen, to find William seated at the table, surrounded by children and closely attended by Fanny, armed with a platter of crispy bacon and a pot of peach jam.

“Mother Claire!” William half-rose to greet me, prevented from pushing back the bench to stand up by the weight of the children sharing said bench. “Er… how are you?”

“Somewhat better than you, probably,” I said, sitting down on a spare stool to put my shoes on. “Did you sleep at all last night?” He was very thin; his cheekbones showed like blades and his skin was an unhealthy sort of grayish-yellow under his tan. This looked still more disagreeable by contrast with his sprouting beard, which was red.

“I don’t remember sleeping, he said, rubbing a hand over his stubble, “but I definitely woke up, so I must have. I feel much better,” he assured me, taking a handful of bacon from Fanny’s platter. “Or I will, as soon as I’ve eaten. Thank you, Frances.”

“You should have milk, too,” she informed him. “To coat the insides of your stomach, after everything you drank last night.”

“Everything I drank?” A look of amusement crossed his face, despite the signs of road-weariness and hangover. “Were you keeping count, Frances? How very thoughtful of you. You’ll make some lucky man an excellent wife one day.”

She blushed crimson, but he smiled at her, and she gulped air and managed a tiny simper in return before tottering off to fetch more toast.

“What did I drink last night?” William asked me, lowering his voice. “I admit that I don’t recall very much about last night. I was… so very much relieved. To—to have…”

“Reached shelter?” I asked, sympathetically. “I imagine so. You’ve been alone for quite a while.”

He paused for moment, spreading jam on a slice of toast, then said quietly, “I have. Thank you. For—” he gestured briefly round the lively kitchen, then cleared his throat. “Do you think—er, that Mister Fraser will be…”

“Back soon? Yes.” He offered me the toast and I took it. I was starving and it was delicious, warm and crunchy and sweet. “Fanny?” I said, swallowing. “Has Mr. Fraser had any breakfast?”

“Yes’m,” she said. “He was just going out when I came down, but he had a piece of fried chicken in his hand.”

“Did he say where he was going?”

“No, ma’am. He wasn’t armed,” she added helpfully. “Except his knife.”

“His dirk, or the little knife?” Her smooth brow crinkled in concentration, then relaxed.

“Both.”

He was leaving the property, then, but not going far.

Posted on January 11, 2023 4:46 AM 46 Comments