Showing posts with label faeries. Show all posts
Showing posts with label faeries. Show all posts

Thursday, November 20, 2014

New Release: Just in Time for a Highland Christmas -- Read Prologue

I'm very excited to announce the release of my new holiday novella from the Highland Gardens series, Just in Time for a Highland Christmas...

Just in Time for a Highland Christmas
A Highland Gardens Novella
Book #2.5


e-Book available from Amazon
for an introductory 99 pennies
until December 1st.

Can a determined brownie craft a perfect match in time for Christmas?

When the Chief of Clan MacLachlan travels to the stronghold of his feuding neighbors to fetch his betrothed, she is gone. A year later, she is still missing. Making life more vexing, a band of reivers are stealing clan cattle, leaving behind destruction. Archibald MacLachlan determines to capture them and administer harsh punishment.

Though once in love with the man, Isobell Lamont refuses to wed her clan's enemy. After running away, she joins the band of reivers set on revenge.

Can Archibald forgive the raven-haired beauty? Will a journey through time bring them together for a Highland Christmas?

Just in Time for a Highland Christmas, a Scottish historical time travel romance, is 101 pages of Highlanders, scheming faeries, a mischievous brownie, magic, adventure, and romance set in 16th century Scotland and the Blue Ridge Mountains of North Carolina.

Read the prologue... 


Fir-wood, Strathlachlan, Scotland, 1511

They weren’t alone on the land. Branches rustled and cracked, the sound amplified by moist Highland air. Archibald signaled the men to silence.

A lone rider broke from an adjacent clump of trees, glanced around, then galloped through the amber grass, leaning low against the stallion's black neck. The slight figure looked over a shoulder once before darting into the wood at the far edge of the meadow and disappearing through autumnal foliage.

Archibald released a loud hiss. The path the fool had taken at risk to both horse and rider was nothing more than a narrow game trail, a dangerous track to approach at such speed.

“Ach, that ragged lad rides well,” the redheaded Duncan exclaimed.

Archibald eased back in the saddle and threw his cousin a sideways glance. "He rides a fine piece of horseflesh, I grant you that. He is likely one of the Campbell's rash, young grandsons."

“Without guards, and on MacLachlan land? Nae Campbell would dress in such tatters.”

Duncan's aghast expression brought a smile along with a forgotten memory to Archibald. As green lads, he and his twin brother Patrick had dressed in servants’ castoff garments and snuck away from Castle Lachlan for a jaunt in the Fir-wood. They later received a memorable scalping when Da caught them roaming about without escort.

“Must be a Campbell lad unaware of the border to our land. I am sure he will feel his father's disfavor across his backside before this day is through. That is, if he avoids breaking his neck first.”

“Aye. For a fact, Chief.” Duncan laughed. A hearty sound that never failed to cheer Archibald.

Poor lad. Duncan braved his temper on this frustrating journey. He'd owe the man a boon upon their return to Castle Lachlan after they fetched Archibald’s bride.

“Let us be on our way, I want my lady ensconced within our keep before winter sets in.”

He reined his horse to the left toward the more traveled trail through the Fir-wood, eager to reach Toward Keep, the stronghold of the Lamonts. Duncan rode at his side as captain while the rest of the Lèine-chneas, his hand chosen guard, followed a short distance behind.

The image of laughing violet eyes urged Archibald to a faster pace. He couldn't wait to hold the raven-haired Isobell in his arms again, inhale her intoxicating scent, caress her ivory skin, and kiss her pouty lips.

* * *

The sun set on the horizon. Crimson colors faded to mauve, a beautiful end to the day after its wet and trying start. Isobell Lamont spurred her horse to greater speed. She would escape the dictates of her overbearing father, even if she might die in so doing.

Her aunt in Glasgow would surely hide her, if Isobell avoided capture. Before she reached the burgh, however, she must cross the land of her unwanted MacLachlan betrothed, the hated Campbells, and other clans she didn't ken. She reveled in the knowledge her journey might be fraught with peril.

She'd always dreamt of doing something truly adventurous.

The doing is never as grand as the dream. With a shake of the head, she ignored the nagging voice admonishing her and rode into the wind, the scent of fir in the air and an invigorating chill on her cheeks.

After risking discovery by crossing yet another open meadow, she eased the reins and sought the wood. Thank the good Lord the weather had cleared. She coaxed Dealanach Dubh into the shelter of a thick cluster of firs and slid from the stallion's massive back.

“Good lad,” she crooned as she patted his sweaty flank, a horsy odor prickling her nose.

Isobell's stomach rumbled. Should have raided the larder before running off in a rage. Dealanach Dubh could graze on the sparse grasses, but what could she eat? Would she never learn to think before reacting to Da in anger?

She'd needed to escape, though, before Archibald MacLachlan arrived to fetch her. She wouldn't marry her clan’s enemy even if she once thought herself in love with the man. It didn’t matter that his once-beloved silver eyes, cleft chin, and chestnut hair still haunted her dreams, or that the thought of his warrior’s body made her feel achy. She squeezed her eyes tight, refusing to shed a tear over a man who wasn’t what she once believed him to be. Grrrr. And Da intended to force her hand. He’d signed the betrothal agreement with the blessing of the king, giving her no choice but to run away. What had changed Da’s mind?

She jerked her eyes open and stared off into the wood. For the past year, he’d raged about the evils perpetrated by Archibald and his clan. She couldn’t wed such a despicable man even if Da changed his mind and thought the match a good one. The men's plans would come to naught. She leaned against a large tree and smiled. Soon she would be in Glasgow, away from their schemes.

Wrapped within the false security of the dense trees, men's voices startled her. Everything within stilled. What have I stumbled upon?

After tying Dealanach Dubh to a branch, she crept closer to the voices, taking care to stay well hidden in the trees. In a wee clearing, a group of ratty men sat around a fire deep in discussion. She worried her bottom lip. Had she inadvertently stumbled into grave danger?

A sudden change in wind direction blew acrid wood smoke into her face. She sniffled, wrinkled her nose, and when she suppressed a sneeze, sagged against a tree in relief.

Gloaming was upon them, and Isobell strained to better see the men. Reprobates all. She started to scoot away— Wait. She recognized a few of them. Lamont warriors who’d left the clan in disgrace and, if rumors were true, taken up with Da’s banished henchman Malcolm Maclay. The warriors must have joined this band of ruffians after Maclay died during a fight with one of Archibald’s men.

She leaned forward to better hear the conversation. Perhaps glean something of import.

Most of their words were spoken in muttered whispers. With a frown, she edged closer, but then had second thoughts. Now would be a good time to leave before they learned of her presence. Too late. One man rose and paced toward her hiding place. Isobell fingered the dirk in her belt, ready to flee, but when he strode back to his cohorts, she held position.

“If we raid the MacLachlan encampment on the northeast border, we can make an escape across the disputed land with at least five head,” the man spoke in a deep voice.

Humph. They were planning—

A large hand gripped her shoulder from behind and yanked her around. She froze, breath stuck in her throat, too shocked by the familiar face to pull free her blade.

"What have we here?"


Just in Time for a Highland Christmas available HERE.


~Dawn Marie

Sunday, August 21, 2011

FAERIES AND OTHERS WORKSHOP

Below you will see a posting for Sharron Gunn's amazing workshop.  Now, as "mother" of The Celtic Rose, I don't usually go out on a limb recommending classes or workshops, but in this case I'll gladly make an exception.  Sharron is a goldmine of information.  Her class is an incredible value.  If you are at all inclined to want to read and/or write about the Fae, this workshop is for you.  So don't hesitate to sign up.  Every one of her workshops I have ever taken was "the bomb."

Miriam

Friday, August 19, 2011

Faeries and Other Magic Folk Workshop


Faeries and Other Magic Folk 
Instructor: Sharron Gunn w/a Sheila Currie 
Dates: September 7, 2011--October 5, 2011

Registration Deadline: September 6, 2011 
Fee: $10/HHRW members, $20/others 
Click HERE for Registration Form 
FMI: HHRW Campus Coordinator: classes@heartsthroughhistory.com 

Class Description:


Walt Disney would have you believe that fairies are sweet little creatures with wings and wands, helpful entities like Tinkerbell and the Tooth Fairy. Walt was wrong. In Celtic lands people believe it's not wise to go about your business in a manner which offends them--they are very touchy. Dead scary in fact.

Some say the idea of fairies was just too useful to be abandoned. Some say they still around because they are the old gods, the gods of the ancient Celts. They can do what they want. But what changes they have undergone; Lugh, the sky god good at doing many things, became the Luprachan (leprechaun), the little fairy good at only one thing -- making shoes. And guarding a pot of gold.

Fionn MacCumhaill is a giant in fairy tales, responsible for creating the Giant's Causeway in the north of Ireland. And did you know that Highlanders don't believe that ghosts, the spirits of the dead, inhabit the houses (and castles) of the living? Nope. Their homes are 'haunted' by other, equally frightening beings. The definition of fairies is broad, you will learn something about kelpies, selkies, the washer woman of the ford and many other supernatural entities.

The course includes self-quizzes and simple research projects to generate story ideas. Discussion and questions are encouraged, but lurkers also welcome.

Lectures:

What is a fairy?
Dinnsenchus (Hill Traditions) & The Otherworld
Folk & Creatures of the House, Water & Forest
Afterlife & Rebirth

Bio:

Sharron Gunn lives in British Columbia and teaches Irish and Scottish history at the University of Victoria part-time. Of Scottish, French and Irish origin, she was born on the east coast of Canada--some knowledge of the Gaelic and French languages and cultures was inevitable.

While living over eight years in Europe, she studied the languages and history of Great Britain and France. She has a diplôme from the Université de Nancy, France, a B.A. in French and a Masters degree (2nd first degree) in Scottish History and Celtic Studies from the University of Glasgow. She is hard at work on a paranormal set in World War II.


Format: Course is conducted via Yahoo Groups email with lessons and Q&A

For additional information, contact the Campus Coordinator.


Click http://www.heartsthroughhistory.com/faeries.html to register for this class.

Tuesday, February 1, 2011

Power and Fae and a Magickal Duel



Cross the Magic Portal into Ais Linn…where unicorns roam and werewolves prowl…where a faery wizard and his mortal wife struggle to protect the Earth from the Lord of Dark fire…


That’s the story of Wizard’s Wife in a nutshell.


Inspired by the Harmonic Convergence of 1987, and aided by the Encyclopedia of Fairies, I found the story of white wizard Tavis McMuir’s fight against black wizard Exeter Dubhtina required more than a little research into not only faeries, hobgoblins, brownies, bogies, and other supernatural beings, but into the Celtic literature and language itself.


Beginning with the name of the magic dimension from which Tavis comes—his name is Celtic for David and that’s what he’s called for a good part of the story—I googled and binged and poured through Wikipedia.com and other vast references, to set the stage for my story.


Ais Linn is a faery realm, a dimension where magic abides and guides the inhabitants’lives. Its people are the ailiff fae, the people gifted with Power, called by the Irish the Little People. There are many type of fae, from the Trooping faeries, which are human-sized and indistinguishable from mortals when under the guise of glamour, to the sprites, butterfly-winged creatures able to sit on the palm of a hand. There are good fae and bad fae and the worst of the lot are the solitary faeries, who live alone and like it that way. Like everywhere else, there are those who rule and those who are ruled. In Ais Linn, the Lords of Fire –the Tiarnas d’Tina rule, the Tiarna d’Geal Tina (Lord of White Fire) in the North, the Tiarna d’Doit Tina (Lord of Black Fire) in the South. As their names indicate, one practices white magic, the other black, and as would be expect, soon there is a power struggle between the ruling families, when the son of the previous Lord of Black Fire inherits his father’s domain.


Exeter Dubtina wants power and doesn’t care what he does to get it. He and Tavis have always been rivals. Even as lads when sparring with each other during the feiles-- to which all fae are invited, the festivals being a neutral ground—they always fought to a draw, so Exeter is smart enough to realize he may need more than his own power to overcome the Champion of White Fire. His first attempt is accomplished while his father is still alive, sending his sister Siobhan to seduce the—at that point—virginal Geal Tina heir—and get herself with child so her brother can raise a White Fire wizardling in the Doit Tina faith. Though Tavis falls in love with her, Siobhan fails in her mission due to the intervention of Tavis’ father, Prince Padraig. Undaunted, Exeter sets about for other nefarious ways to accomplish this end.


Physically, Exeter himself is an alpha fae, beautiful to behold and frightening in that beauty.


Like all the other male faeries, he was exceptionally handsome. At the moment, his wings and antenna weren’t visible. Megan wondered if he would have the same dragonfly-like wings as David, Brigid, and Ossian possessed, or if—being a purveyor of dark magic—he would possess wings like those of a bat or some other nightdweller. Oh, yes, my Lord Exeter’s handsome, she thought. In a Fallen Angel-sort of way. Wings aside, Exeter could easily have been mistaken for the stereotypical portrait of a vampire…tall, pale, his black hair brushing his waist in a thick, straight fall. His eyes were so dark they appeared black. There was only one difference Megan could see. His pupils were dark crimson, and oblique. Like a cat’s.


His magic aside, Exeter is Tavis’ exact opposite in appearance, one as dark as the other is light. Davis, as described by Megan:


Copper brows winged above his eyes, not arching as they had before, but arrow-straight. And the eyes themselves...green but...there’s no white in them. They were like an animal’s, the entire eye a deep green iris. That, however, wasn’t the most disturbing thing. Protruding from his forehead were antenna. Not butterfly-like but smoky, feathery tendrils floating in the air above his head. They wavered back and forth, like seaweed drifting in a stream, then stiffened and pointed in her direction.

He turned his head slightly, an ear twitching, Nearly lobeless, peaked on top. The left one sported a small golden ring with an emerald set in it. Dragonfly-like, his wings didn’t come from under his shoulder blades as she’d always suppose wings should, but grew on each side of his upper spine. Not the tiny things shown in drawings of fairies either, but equaling David’s height. Delicately translucent in bronzes and golds, the colors of a Monarch's wings magnified.


In Casteal Dubtina, Exeter surrounds himself with those predisposed to evil …indeed, his band of trusted knights, his Wolf Pack, are just that…faery werewolves, roving the Damhain Garrai, the Dark Garden, in search of sprites to terrorize.


Surprisingly, there are no females visible in his casteal, other than his sister.


The Tiarna Doit’s sexuality isn’t mentioned one way or another, though he does (SPOILER ALERT HERE: skip to the next paragraph if you don’t want to know) seem more than taken with Megan and gets into her bed by magical and less than fair means while corrupting Tavis’ fidelity, also. Tavis, on the other hand, while admitting to being less than a choir boy before he met Megan, is almost desperate to assure his new wife she has his complete faith and trust.


“Yes, I suppose you wizards are the Rock Stars of the faery world? Do you have groupies? Wizard-groupies panting at the bedchamber door?”

She was startled to see him flush slightly, the color rising up his throat and disappearing into his hairline. “We do have a reputation for attractin’ th’ lasses, though I’ve na been as free as some in that department. An’ na at all since th’ night I set eyes on you, Megan, I swear.”


Tavis loves Megan enough to disobey his father’s orders and marry her. He confesses his previous “sin” with Siobhan Dubhtina, but there are some things he keeps quiet about, things he doesn’t want to hurt his wife by having her know. And there’s always a chance those very things will one day rear their ugly heads and attack him.


Ais Linn’s other inhabitants are no less magical or wonderful…Sir Liam, Exeter’s chief knight, a werewolf torn between his love for Brigid, a White Fire follower and his allegiance to the Dark Lord; Denis, a leprechaun, and Siorchain the unicorn, a creature who sure he can’t be touched by anyone deemed a sinner. Siorchain’s aware of the secret David harbors as well as the shattering of his purity by a single involuntary act, and chooses to keep that secret.


So there they are, two powerful men, each with millennia of magic behind them, each trained to be the most frightening force in his own realm, pitted against each other…one fighting for his wife and unborn child, his domain, and a small planet called Earth, the other fighting for ownership of everything.


“Scrioss agus tina! Titim gan éirí ort!”


The curses fall as they square off against each other, girded in armor, wielding their magic. Two men, equal in age, physical strength, and magical knowledge…and only one will walk away from the fight…only one will claim all of Ais Linn, the Earth, and Megan McMuir and her baby.

Which will it be?



Wizard’s Wife is available from Class Act Books www.classactbooks.com.

Website: http://www.tonivsweeney.com/

Saturday, January 22, 2011

WITH LOVE TO MY READERS!

Valentine's Day is fast approaching and, just coincidentally I'm sure, we're approaching a 3,000-hit milestone for The Celtic Rose.  I couldn't have done it without you.

As a token of my appreciation, I'm offering a free PDF download of my novella "Stupid Cupid" to commenters who leave an email address.  This quick read, set in Ireland, is the story of what happens when both Cupid and a pair of pugnacious humans invade the peaceful meadow where my faerie band from "Confessions of the Cleaning Lady" is now living.  Valentine's Day is fast approaching in my book, too, but an estranged couple intent on fisticuffs is going to make it even more of a challenge than usual for Cupid.  He may need a little help...

The cutoff date for this offer is Valentine's Day!  And here is the adorable book cover:

The prequel to this book is "Confessions of the Cleaning Lady" available at www.thedarkcastlelords.com/confessions-of-the-cleaning-lady.htm

Thanks again.  It's been great hearing from so many of you and I hope you've had fun reading my blog.