Friday, April 19, 2013

Autumn Glimmer: Ireland's Fairies are At It Again!

The Fairies are back in Autumn Glimmer, an adventure for young adults of all ages set in an Ireland that might have been. Autumn Glimmer is the sequel to Glancing Through the Glimmer. Both "Glimmer" books are paranormal prequels to the Band of Roses Trilogy, whose "what if" premise supposes that High King Brian Boru survived the Battle of Clontarf in 1014 A.D. and established a royal dynasty still in existence. As head of state, the current King Brian upholds ancient traditions, as do his children, Princess Talty and Prince Liam. Teenage Liam stars in the Glimmer books, along with his American friend, Janet Gleason, who can’t seem to stay away from the fairies.
Janet’s grandfather is the U.S. Ambassador to Ireland. Janet still misses Boston, especially in autumn, when New England’s trees are so gorgeously vibrant. But she’s settled into her new life well and landed the lead in the next school play. When King Brian invites the Gleasons to his country estate to celebrate Halloween, Janet is happy: she’ll be with Liam again.
She should know Ireland better by now…

Blurb for Autumn Glimmer:
Janet and Liam meet again for a Halloween weekend they’ll never forget…

Fairies living beneath the lake on the King of Ireland’s country estate? Janet Gleason isn’t surprised. The American teen and her royal friend, Prince Liam Boru, have met the Good People before. Just before Halloween, three of the fairies, Blinn, Mell, and Lewy, leave their watery home to fill a magical bag with the flowers their queen requires to keep a hungry monster asleep. Blinn decides she’d like to see the mortal king’s house. Lewy wants to taste oatcakes again, and Mell goes along on a tragic ride that leaves poor Lewy lost and alone. Can Liam and Janet help him find the flower bag before the monster awakens? Or will Lewy’s misguided glimmer trap the young mortals forever in the palace beneath the lake?

Excerpt:
Below the bubble, the water brightened to a lustrous cobalt blue. Stars seemed to shimmer deep in the lake. A forest of vegetation waved on the lake bed. The impossible sight of crystal towers emerged beyond the greenery, and Liam wanted to dance.

Janet raised a hand to her face. "It’s lovely, but why does it smell so bad?"

She was right. A nasty whiff of something vile had seeped into the bubble.

Becula raised her arms. "Hasten!"

The bubble’s downward speed increased. The stench intensified. Trying to pinpoint its source, Liam scanned the ghostly lake. An amber mist glowed in the inky water beyond the light and seemed to be pursuing them.

"What is it?" he asked, dreading the answer.

"The Crogall CĂș," Becula said, her nonchalant tone at odds with the stiffened sags and bags on her face. "When it hunts, its nostrils blow foul vapors to confuse its prey. Fear not, young prince. It shall not harm us."

A terrible roar tore through the bubble. Janet yipped and clung to Liam. Squashing his lips to keep from yipping himself, he hugged her to him.

The mist billowed into to a putrid fog that poured like custard to sully the water. Another roar, much closer this time, jolted the bubble.

Janet screamed. A blood-red eye as big as an autumn moon stared into the bubble.
* * * * *
About Pat McDermott:
Born and educated in Boston, Massachusetts, Pat McDermott is the author of a series of romantic action/adventure stories set in an Ireland that might have been. Her favorite non-writing activities include cooking, reading, music, hiking, music, and traveling, especially to Ireland. Pat is a member of the New Hampshire Writers’ Project, Romance Writers of America, and Celtic Hearts Romance Writers. She lives and writes in New Hampshire.



* * * * *
Autumn Glimmer / E-book Available from
Glancing Through the Glimmer / E-book Available from

Wednesday, April 10, 2013

DREAMS OF THE HIGHLANDER

Dreams of the Highlander is the second book out by Sarah Hoss.




BLURB
Haunted by a recurring dream, Marlana Crawford ventures to Scotland in search of answers. But a careless wish lands her in the 17th century and the arms of Alexander Macpherson—a handsome, brooding, Highlander, who after losing his wife and babe during childbirth, vowed never to love again.

Surprised to find a mysterious, brown-haired beauty in his home, Alexander fights the undeniable attraction between them and is determined to figure out a way to send her packing without losing his head or his heart.

When Marlana has a chance encounter with his enemy, it changes the stakes, and Alexander is forced to face two battles, one to win Marlana’s affection, the other to save her life.




EXCERPT

Newtonmore Scotland, 1701

“Mairi,” he whispered.

“I love ye with all of my heart.” The evidence of that love clung to her soft voice.

Alexander swallowed the lump of fear that rose in his throat. “I love ye, too.” He lowered his gaze to their beautiful son nestled in his arms. Brown hair dusted the little head and he gently ran his hands over the silky forehead as he fought back tears.

“I want ye to be happy, Alexander.” A blanket of confusion covered him as she turned away in sadness to stare out the window.

“What are ye saying, Mairi? Ye’re going to be fine.” He said it with as much conviction as he could muster. His hand cupped her cheek, his thumb slowly brushing strokes back and forth.

Alexander readjusted himself on the bed. She turned then, to stare back into his eyes, her hand grasping his. The sadness had left and in its place, determination settled in.

“No, I won’t and we both know it.” She swallowed with difficulty. “Promise me, Alexander. Promise me ye willna grieve for me forever.” He watched, stunned, as her hand dropped from his.

Alexander heard his mother sobbing in the background as he sat there with his stillborn son held tightly in his arms and watched his wife slip peacefully from this world.




AUTHOR BIO:
Sarah Hoss grew up believing she could try anything and if she set her mind to it, she would succeed. Sixteen years of dance lessons, Cheerleading, and school plays proved to her that her parent’s words rang true. Writing was no exception. Reading the Outlander series made her fall in love with time travels and the historical places books could take her. Always a child with a vivid imagination, she realized as an adult, she could put her imagination to good use and began writing. Marrying her very own hero, they live in Indiana in the town where she grew up. They have three beautiful children and one hyper dog. When Sarah isn’t writing, she enjoys gardening, camping, and watching her kids’ play sports.




Where to find Sarah-



Twitter- @SarahHoss1


How to purchase Dreams of the Highlander-


**Dreams of the Highlander is a Top selling book at Amazon! 5 STAR reviews! **

Tuesday, April 2, 2013


~Permission to Forward Granted and Appreciated~

2013 Golden Claddagh Contest
CONTEST OPENS APRIL 1, 2013
Enter Celtic Hearts Romance Writers Chapter contest The Golden Claddagh! Don’t let our chapter name dissuade you; your entry does not have to be Celtic based to enter. We have four categories for unpublished manuscripts: Historical, FF&P, Contemporary, and Young Adult.
Our contest opens on April 1st with a final due date of May 1st, 2013. Finalists will be notified by June 15th, 2013 and winners announced at the Celtic Hearts AGM at RWA Nationals in Atlanta. All finalists will be invited to the AGM, if they are able to attend.
ELIGIBILITY
The competition is open to RWA members and non-members. The Golden Claddagh Contest is open to published and non-published authors but the submitted work must never have been published in any format. The entry must be either a full-length novel (greater than 40,000 words) or a novella (no less than 20,000 words and no more than 40,000 words). Short stories and novelettes are not accepted.
Entry fee is $15 for CHRW members and $25 for non-members.
CATEGORIES
CONTEMPORARY: Long & Short Contemporary / Romantic Suspense / Strong Romantic Elements: Includes single title, romantic suspense, long and short romantic fiction with a contemporary setting set after 1945. Main focus is the romantic relationship between the hero and heroine.
FF&P: Future, Fantasy & Paranormal / Steampunk / Alternative History: Romance novel where the mains focus is on the romantic relationship, but the future, fantasy or paranormal elements are integral to the story (includes time-travel).
HISTORICAL / Celtic: Romance novel set primarily before 1945 — any location.
YA: Young Adult / Middle Grade / New Adult: Romance novels or novellas in which young adult themes constitute an integral part of the plot. Main focus is still on the romantic relationship between the hero and heroine.
FINAL ROUND JUDGES
Contemporary – Julie Mianecki of Penguin Books, Chelsey Emmelhainz of Harper Collins Publishing

FF&P
 – Alissa Davis
 of Carina Press and Laurie McLean of Foreward Literary Agency

Historical – Meredith Giordan of Carina Press and Susie Townsend of New Leaf Literary Agency

Young Adult – Aubrey Poole of Sourcebooks and Becky Vinter of Fine Print Literary Agency
Find the Contest Entry Form and Rules at Celtic Hearts Romance Writers website.
Sign up today! You know you want to. So what are you waiting for?
~Permission to Forward Granted and Appreciated~
Cate Parke, Rebecca Lynn
2013 Golden Claddagh Contest Coordinators

Sunday, March 24, 2013

Hidden by the Rose


A ROSE IS A ROSE IS A NOVEL



You  might call me a rose person. As a former professional gardener, and as a resident of a gardener’s hell called Texas, you would think that these would be mutually exclusive. Not so.
There is a type of rose that is sturdy enough to have survived largely unhybridized since the days of the ancient Chinese dynasties. This type of rose is the so-called antique or “China” rose. Here is a rose variety so strong of spirit that it can withstand years of total neglect, droughts, impoverished soil—ah, yes, the very words that reflect my gardening experience in Texas.
So what does this have to do with a book, you may ask? My husband and I are the proud parents of a YA fantasy novel called Hidden by the Rose.  The setting is Britannia in ca. 430 AD. The title is taken from the book, from a passage when the young heroine Caylith hears that she is a “thorn in the side” of some very unpleasant people. She gravely remarks that “a thorn is a weapon, hidden by the rose.”
The symbol of the rose is a central one in this book. The  ancient rose called Rosa canina, the dog-rose, was planted even thousands of years ago around properties in Britannia to keep intruders at bay. Under its light pink, five-petalled clusters of blooms lay half-inch thorns, curved and strong, enough like vicious teeth to have given it the name.
Caylith, too, is a rose person. She is drawn to all plants, and the dog rose is one of her favorites. Its plump hips (seed cases) yield a tea that has a profound effect on her. And its dog-teeth properties are strong enough to help her bring down some evil people.
In a way, of course, the title of this book refers to Caylith herself. Although she is “not tall” (her own words to describe her 5-foot frame), she becomes quite a warrior—in spirit, anyway. Her feisty personality and her determination to win the day are the very thorns that are hidden beneath her attractive appearance. 
All this is a round-about way of inviting you to try our novel series “The Twilight of Magic.”  It is geared at readers from ‘tweens to teens and finally to adults in the final sweet romance. The first in the series, Running Over Rainbows, has won five-star reviews, and of course we'd love you to start with that first book.
This very short excerpt will give you a bit of the flavor of the novel. Caylith finds herself in a magical garden with one whom she had feared, who has revealed himself to be not only a king, but her grandfather.
I  thought about the world I had just escaped.
“Yes, I miss dear Mama. She taught me to be strong of mind and to follow in the old traditions. I am not the best of students, but I have tried. She never had time to teach me about my ancestors before she…left.” The image of a great hungry fire filled my mind. “I will not believe she is really gone. She would have fought like a mother bear to protect what was hers. I am sure she was taken captive by the savage Eire-Landers.”
The king’s eyes seemed to flash dangerously beneath the great wing-like brows. I understood his passion. “Yes, I am sure your blood ran strong in Mama.”
The soothing atmosphere of the garden loosened my tongue. I was starting to release all my pent-up fears and dreams to a complete stranger, but I did not regret it. “I was wrong to think you are like the evil duke. He wants my property only. He does not want me.”
Grandfather uttered what sounded like a sigh within a sob. I looked at him, but his beard was bent so close to his chest that I could not see his face.
I stood then, and the king slowly rose also. We stood close together for a long minute. “Your High—Grandfather…” I said in almost a whisper. His great bearded head bent lower. “Will you ever forgive me for running from you?”
The king’s face began to glow as though a kiln fire ignited from within. Instead of answering, he held out his hand to me, palm up. I placed my diminutive hand inside his, and we walked slowly out of the garden.


Thanks, Celtic Rose friends! ~Bil and Bon Franks 


Children of the Dust  and
Where Wild Ponies Ran from MuseItUp in 2013
http://about.me/bfranks/#

Sunday, March 17, 2013

The Glorious Twelfth-Inspirational Caithness Buildings





Many writers draw inspiration from the buildings and physical geography of their surroundings.
     In my second novel, The Glorious Twelfth, the Sinclair mausoleum at Ulbster is the model for Sir Ranald's mausoleum. It stands in open farmland near the ruined farmstead of Ulbster Mains to the south of Wick. The weather vane on the top records 1700 as the date of construction. Maps indicate that the site was formerly a chapel dedicated to St Martin and the surrounding graveyard bears testament to the ground being consecrated. An ancient Class II Celtic stone originally stood in the graveyard confering great antiquity on the site. The stone now stands in the Caithness Horizons Museum in Thurso.
     The square building has very pleasing proportions, topped by a complex ogive shaped roof where the tile size varies accoring to the slope. Internal steel bars have been installed to provide further support for the roof. The burial crypt was cleared of remains and filled in some time ago. It had long since been supplanted by a new mausoleum built near Thurso Castle by Sir John Sinclair, the famous agricultural improver, around 1800. 
The second inspirational building is the ruined Castle Sinclair Girnigoe, built by the Sinclairs. A major archaeological project is currently in progress to both understand the history of the building and stabilise it against further deterioration. The latest research suggests that a building stood on the site as early as the thirteenth century. It was heavily fortified and the major administrative centre of its day, but was abandoned as early as 1680. Cycling to this castle was a favourite boyhood outing. We climbed the walls, explored the dungeon, heart in mouth, and went down the passage to the sea. It is the fictional site of the final dig at the end of The Glorious Twelfth.  



 Also by Alan Calder, The Stuart Agenda published by Willowmoon  www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B005BJ3GNI


 

 

Friday, March 1, 2013

The Glorious Twelfth by Alan Calder



The Glorious Twelfth is my second novel, set mainly in my native Caithness with forays into France, Italy, Egypt and Poland. The genre is mystery/suspense with a thread of romance running through the story.

Genesis of the Glorious Twelfth

In The Da Vinci Code, Dan Brown speculates that the Holy Grail lies buried in the filled in crypt of Rosslyn Chapel near Edinburgh. This mysterious church was built by the Sinclairs in the first half of the fifteenth century, by which time the clan was well established in Caithness where it still holds the Earldom. Caithness, then remote and inaccessible, would have provided a much better hiding place for the Grail than Rosslyn, especially after the Sinclairs began to build a series of heavily fortified castles round the Caithness coast. In Caithness, the Sinclairs also built several mausoleums where many generations of their upper echelons were laid to rest. One of these, an enchanting building with an ogive shaped roof, is built over the remains of an ancient chapel to St Martin and surrounded by a graveyard which once contained a class II Pictish stone, conferring great antiquity on the site.                                             
 

The Glorious Twelfth- Blurb
The Glorious Twelfth opens as archaeologist Ben Harris finds a Celtic stone and evidence of a medieval shipwreck on the Noster estate of Sir Ranald Sinclair. Careless talk by Ben at a conference in Paris sparks off a robbery at  Sir Ranald’s mausoleum, uncovering a treasure that has been hidden for centuries. The robbery follows the opening day of the grouse season, hence the title of the book. The chief villain, grail fanatic Russian Boris Zadarnov, also abducts Sir Ranald’s wayward daughter, Fran, who is already in love with Ben. American oilman Al Regan, a neighbour of Sir Ranald, leads a rescue party to Paris where Fran is freed and most of the treasure recovered, but the thieves escape with a ruby encrusted chalice.
     For a series of misdemeanours, including failing to spot that the Celtic stone was a fake, Ben is sacked from his university job. He finds consolation in the arms of Fran and moves north to continue treasure hunting, making the discovery of his life near one of the ancient Sinclair castles. Has he found the greatest archaeological prize in Christendom, the Holy Grail? Will he be able to protect it from the malevolent attention of Alexei, younger brother of the deceased Boris?

 The Glorious Twelfth- Opening Excerpt

Ben Harris was examining pottery fragments in the dig tent, already warming up under an August morning sun, when he heard the shout. It was from Angela in the trench on top of the hillock which the locals had always called, The Hill of Peace.

     “Ben, I’ve got something!”

It wasn’t normal to call the field archaeologist for routine finds such as pieces of pottery, so he picked up his trowel and brush and rushed up the path to the dig. In his haste he forgot to put on the wide brimmed kudu skin hat, which normally restrained his longish mop of fair hair and gave him protection from the sun. He was excited by the call, not least because this was his first dig as the boss and the site had certainly looked of interest on the geophysics survey, carried out at Easter by a colleague.

      Angela was on her knees in the metre deep trench, bounded by the foundations of a simple rectangular building, gradually revealed over the previous two weeks. She was carefully prising the compressed soil from a flat stone surface, in the middle of the floor of the building.

     “It’s incised; look there’s a curved line. I don’t think it’s a plough mark.”

     “Not a metre down. I’ll start recording and fetch the laptop just in case.” If it was an important find, he wanted to record the moment as it happened and not have to stage a reconstruction.

     “There’s more, it’s a fish, I’ve got the tail,” she shouted, as he returned with the laptop.

     “Wow, we have got something here.” Looking over her shoulder, Ben could see the fan of the salmon’s tail materialise from the dust. It was about half life-size and pleased him infinitely more than any of the real wild ones he’d caught with rod and line. “Let me check the geophysics.” His mind was racing at the prospect of an undiscovered Pictish stone. 

     “Is it that big anomaly we saw?” Angela asked.

     “Spot on. That’s it.” He perched the laptop on the edge of the trench, allowing her to see the dark shadow on the trace.

     “So, there’s a lot more of it to uncover.”

     As they bent down over the stone again, a shadow covered Ben. He looked up to see the tall slender figure of Fran, daughter of Sir Ranald Sinclair, the proprietor and dig sponsor, on the other side of the trench, blocking out the sun.  She was standing with her arms folded below her breasts, tapping a sandal-covered foot on the edge of the trench, causing a mini-collapse of soil.

     From Ben’s low position in the trench, his first sight was the silhouette of her long legs showing through the thin fabric of her dress. Scanning up further, the sun was neatly eclipsed by her head and sparkled through the outer frizz of her lustrous deep copper coloured hair. It gave her a goddess-like halo, accentuated by the refraction of light through the prisms of her long dangling ear-rings. Her challenging presence made him think of Boudicca, the early Iceni  Queen who took on the Romans.

      Ben narrowed his focus on her face. He got a fleeting impression of self-satisfaction as her eyes left the stone and met his briefly, with the faintest of smiles. She turned sharply on her heel and disappeared into the light without uttering a word. Her departure left him looking into the sun, temporarily blinded, but with the optical memory of her shape still imprinted behind his eyes. Ben shook his head to restore his sight and push her image to the back of his mind. The other students and volunteers on the dig began to assemble round the periphery of the trench, attracted by the allure of the square foot or so of exposed stone.

     “What was that all about?” asked Angela.

     “She seems very interested in the stone,” said Ben.

     “I think she fancies the archaeologist,” said Angela with a hint of menace.

      Ben did not rise to Angela’s bait. He suspected a personal sub-text on her part. She was being very nice to him and always seemed to be hovering within easy reach.

     “I could lift it out for you with the JCB,” said Jay Fuller, an American based on the main platform of the Caithness Shelf oilfield, a few miles offshore. Jay volunteered on his rest days,  a break from the tedium of the production schedule. The other students sniggered at his unprofessional enthusiasm.

     “All in good time, Jay; but you’re right; we will need the JCB for this one.”  Ben gave Fuller a break. He didn’t want to exploit his minor gaffe. He also realised that he would have to rethink the digging plan in the light of the discovery.

     “Is it tea time?” asked the beaming Angela.

     “Okay, let’s take an early tea break and think about what we need to do next.”

     Over the tea break they discussed a new plan to focus on trench three. Ben  would join Angela on the stone and the others would work on fully digging out the rest of the trench. He also called Sir Ranald Sinclair, owner of the Noster Estate to tell him about the find and it was agreed that the proprietor would visit the dig at five p.m.

 

Links




 Best wishes to all

Alan Calder