Just want to share some happy news with my blog family. This one is really special to me. My fantasy historical romance, The King's Daughter, has been accepted by Victory Tales Press and will be re-released in February, 2012. The book will be available in print this time and I will probably put my copy on my pillow and kiss it every night! Honestly, I'm so in love with this book and hero that it's embarrassing. What can I say? It got 5+ reviews out the wazoo, so apparently some other people liked it, too. If you didn't catch it first time out or want it in print, it will be available in February.
The book is Book I of the Chronicles of Alcinia, the story of Tarabenthia, born to a dying queen and an ambitious king. Tia is heir to the throne, but when the idyll of her childhood ends she defies her father, tipping the balance in a world poised on the brink of war--leaving history to judge whether she is heroine or harlot. In a time of war, what would you sacrifice in the name of love?
Here's a peek at the cover by Laura Shinn:
If you like historical fantasy in settings reminiscent of Ancient Rome and Roman Britain, I hope you'll consider giving this one a try when it's available. But in any case, enjoy Laura's cover! :)
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
Saturday, November 26, 2011
Friday, November 25, 2011
Happy Thanksgiving
I hope that all of you here at The Celtic Rose had a wonderful, blessed Thanksgiving surrounded by love, family, and friends. May God bless you the rest of the year as well!!!!!
Love,
Sarah Hoss
Love,
Sarah Hoss
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
Friday, November 11, 2011
Glancing Through the Glimmer / Pat McDermott
Greetings to everyone here at The Celtic Rose, and special thanks to Miriam for her hospitality today, the release day for Glancing Through the Glimmer. I'm Pat McDermott, author of the "Band of Roses" trilogy*, romantic action/adventure novels set in an Ireland still ruled by the heirs of High King Brian Boru.
Glancing Through the Glimmer is the young adult "prequel" to this trilogy. Don’t let the young adult label put you off! Readers of all ages will enjoy "Glimmer"—as long as they love Irish myths, adventure, romance, and a hefty wallop of fairy magic. (On Sunday, I’ll randomly choose one commenter to receive a PDF copy of the book. Please leave your email address if you’d like a chance to win.)
So where did the title come from? Glancing Through the Glimmer is a phrase from The Fairy Thorn, an old Ulster poem by Sir Samuel Ferguson that begins innocently enough:
Get up, our Anna dear, from the weary spinning-wheel;
For your father's on the hill, and your mother is asleep;
Come up above the crags, and we'll dance a highland-reel
Around the fairy thorn on the steep.
Don’t listen, Anna! Everyone knows if you dance around a fairy thorn, the fairies will steal you away. Especially in County Galway, the home of Finvarra, King of the Connaught Fairies. Finvarra loves to dance, as American teenager Janet Gleason learns to her dismay.
The Blurb:
In the modern Kingdom of Ireland, few mortals believe in the fairy folk. Without that belief, the fairies are dying. Finvarra, the King of the Fairies, would rather dance than worry—but he must have a mortal dancing partner.
When Janet Gleason’s grandfather becomes the new U.S. Ambassador to Ireland, the sixteen-year-old orphan must leave Boston and her friends behind. Janet is lonely in Dublin and unused to her grandparents’ stuffy social life. An invitation to a royal ball terrifies her. She can’t even waltz and dreads embarrassment. Finvarra’s fairy witch overhears her fervent wish to learn to dance.
Seventeen-year-old Prince Liam Boru loathes the idea of escorting another spoiled American girl to a ball. In fact, he detests most of his royal duties. He dresses down to move through Dublin unnoticed and finds himself on his royal backside when Janet crashes into him. Intrigued, he asks to see her again, and she willingly agrees. Unaware of each other’s identities, they arrange to meet. When they do, the fairies steal Janet away. Liam’s attempts to find her trigger a series of frustrating misadventures. Can he and Janet outwit a treacherous fairy king who’s been hoodwinking mortals for centuries?
The Excerpt - The stunning Cliffs of Howth provide the setting for Janet and Liam’s memorable first date:
The first time Liam slipped and fell, he cursed the rain-damp grass. He blamed his second tumble on his haste to catch up with Janet. What on earth had possessed the girl to run off like that? She couldn’t possibly want to find music that badly.
Music only she could hear.
The third time he lost his balance, he’d swear someone had pushed him, but no one was there. He landed on his hands and knees and cursed again. He might not be a muscleman, but he was far from a clumsy dolt. A lifetime of sports and outdoor treks had surely left him fit enough to climb a scrubby little hillside.
Something strange was afoot.
I’m being ridiculous.
The breeze must have kept him from hearing the music she heard. She’d likely gone after the owner of whatever was playing the tune to learn its name.
Yet the Nose of Howth seemed deserted. How odd for a sunny Sunday morning. Even if Janet had gone off seeking the source of the music, no amount of rationalizing could explain why she’d left so abruptly. The chilling sense that she was in danger had Liam’s heart thumping high in his throat.
Should he call his cousin? If Kevin was still on the pier, it would take him a while to get here. And practical Kevin would surely think Liam astray in the head.
Maybe he was, but something told him he had to find Janet, and fast. Keeping close to the ground as if he were dodging radar, he clambered monkey-like up the hill. This time he reached the top of the rise. Lumps in the landscape surrounded him, clumps of rock and rolling masses of heather and gorse that encircled the level spot where he stood. He knew the place well. Except for the curious lack of weekend hill walkers, nothing seemed amiss.
"Janet!"
He listened hard. A seagull cried in the distance. Otherwise, all was silent. No, wait! Music drifted toward him, a plucky harp tune he might have enjoyed under different circumstances.
Was that what Janet had heard?
Where was it? He turned in a circle, squinting in the sunlight, scanning, straining to hear. When he returned to the spot where he’d started, a jolt of fear set his pulse racing.
A round stone hut had appeared on the highest part of the clearing. Its low thatched roof rose to a ridiculously high point. It resembled a roundhouse, the sort of dwelling that belonged in a prehistoric ring fort.
Or a fairy fort.
Liam swallowed hard. He’d seen replicas of such huts in Ireland’s folk parks. He’d also viewed ruins of the original ring forts, all that remained of the structures built by the mysterious peoples who’d lived and died in Ireland thousands of years ago.
Where had this one come from? Why was it on the Nose of Howth? Liam had never seen it before, nor had he heard of any gimmicky tourism plans for the cliff walk. Of course, he didn’t know everything. Convincing himself that he’d failed to see the hut at first because the sun had blinded him, he ventured toward the structure.
He spotted a doorway and relaxed. Janet was there, speaking to a woman wearing a period costume, medieval or older. That’s what it was, he thought: tourism come to tarnish Howth. How could Uncle Peadar have allowed such nonsense?
Liam called Janet’s name again, but neither she nor the woman showed any sign that they’d heard him. The wind must have carried his voice away. He stalked toward the roundhouse. As he approached, the costumed woman placed a necklace over Janet’s head.
The roundhouse flickered, faded, and reappeared. Alarmed, Liam stopped. This was no tourist gimmick. As his thoughts scrambled for an explanation, the woman grabbed Janet’s arm and pulled her into the hut.
"Janet, no!" His ferocious roar proved useless. Unbelievably, the roundhouse began to dissolve. No longer doubting his horrified senses, he dove at the hut and charged through the disappearing door.
The world around him melted away.
* * * *
A Little About Me:
I’m a Massachusetts native from a Boston Irish family whose music and myths have crept into my writing. One of my short stories earned an Honorable Mention for children’s fiction in the 74th Writer’s Digest Annual Writing competition. ‘Twas a big boost for my confidence! I'm a member of the New Hampshire Writers' Project, the Seacoast Writers' Association, Romance Writers of America, and Celtic Hearts Romance Writers. My favorite non-writing activities include hiking, reading, cooking (check out my cooking blog, below), and traveling, especially to Ireland. I’d love to live there some day, but for now, I call the New Hampshire seacoast home. Currently, I'm working on reuniting Janet and Liam in Autumn Glimmer, the Samhain sequel to Glancing Through the Glimmer.
A Little More:
My Web site: www.patmcdermott.net
Put the Kettle On (My Writing/Travel Blog): http://pat-mcdermott.blogspot.com/
My Facebook page: http://www.facebook.com/home.php?#!/pat.mcdermott1
Facebook page for Glancing Through the Glimmer (feel free to "Like" it!):
http://www.facebook.com/home.php?#!/www.patmcdermott.net
MuseItUp Publishing Bookstore Page to purchase Glancing Through the Glimmer:
https://museituppublishing.com/bookstore2/index.php?page=shop.product_details&flypage=flypage.tpl&product_id=224&category_id=69&option=com_virtuemart&Itemid=1
Kitchen Excursions (My Cooking Blog): http://kitchenexcursions.blogspot.com/
* * * *
*The Band of Roses Trilogy is currently unavailable. MuseItUp Publishing will publish A Band of Roses (May, 2012) and Fiery Roses (August, 2012) as re-releases. Salty Roses will make its piratical debut in November, 2012.
Labels:
A Band of Roses,
fairies,
Fiery Roses,
Finvarra,
Glancing Through the Glimmer,
Ireland,
Pat McDermott,
Salty Roses,
The Celtic Rose Blog,
The Fairy Thorn,
young adult
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
GOOD THINGS ARE COMING
Be sure to join us on Friday, November 11 when author Pat McDermott will be showcasing a new release. I'm not giving away the show, just...be here! :) Pat is one of my personal favs, not just as an author but as a human being. Everything she touches is gold, her historical research is second to none, and I know her book will rock.
Please stop in on Friday at The Celtic Rose.
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
THE HEART OF A CELT
With our modern holiday Halloween approaching, I thought this might be an appropriate time to remember that it found its origins in the ancient Celtic festival, Samhain. But did you know this was only one of four fire festivals?
"The heart of a Celt is a heart of fire."
This quote from--ahem--one of my own books is as close a truth as I know, because the four Fire Festivals of the ancient Celts still live in our own time...and perhaps, for many of us, in our hearts.
The ancient Celtic calendar reckoned days from sunset to sunset. For this reason most--but not all--festival bonfires were lit as the sun set.
Samhain, our present-day Halloween, was the beginning of winter and also, coincidentally, a festival of the dead when the veil between this and the Otherworld was considered so thin that spirits and mortals could meet. At least in part to prevent dangerous straying, communities gathered around huge bonfires lit on the night of Samhain.
Imbolc, celebrated from February 1 - 2, was considered the beginning of spring. It was and still is the beginning of lambing season; my large animals veterinarian, Missy, spent one semester during vet school in Scotland, delivering lambs.
Beltane later became our modern May Day. Cernunnos, the horned god of Ireland, was held to have died and been reborn on Beltane, which was an unabashed fertility rite. In ancient days, it was also the time cattle were driven out to pasture until autumn. The bonfire lit for Beltane was a mark of joy at the return of the sun...and the return of Cernunnos.
Finally, Lughnasadh was the feast of the god Lugh and celebrated from July 31 - August 1. It was traditionally the time when spirits began to be distilled for the coming year. Even today in the British Isles, many distilleries close for the month of August and reopen on September 1. As you sip a good whiskey from those parts, give a tilt of the hat to Lugh--that is, if you can remember where your head is. After a morning of whiskey-tasting at Jameson's Distillery in Ireland, I couldn't!
The traditions still live in many of us. You have but to scratch the surface to find the ancient Celt beneath.
This quote from--ahem--one of my own books is as close a truth as I know, because the four Fire Festivals of the ancient Celts still live in our own time...and perhaps, for many of us, in our hearts.
The ancient Celtic calendar reckoned days from sunset to sunset. For this reason most--but not all--festival bonfires were lit as the sun set.
Samhain, our present-day Halloween, was the beginning of winter and also, coincidentally, a festival of the dead when the veil between this and the Otherworld was considered so thin that spirits and mortals could meet. At least in part to prevent dangerous straying, communities gathered around huge bonfires lit on the night of Samhain.
Imbolc, celebrated from February 1 - 2, was considered the beginning of spring. It was and still is the beginning of lambing season; my large animals veterinarian, Missy, spent one semester during vet school in Scotland, delivering lambs.
Beltane later became our modern May Day. Cernunnos, the horned god of Ireland, was held to have died and been reborn on Beltane, which was an unabashed fertility rite. In ancient days, it was also the time cattle were driven out to pasture until autumn. The bonfire lit for Beltane was a mark of joy at the return of the sun...and the return of Cernunnos.
Finally, Lughnasadh was the feast of the god Lugh and celebrated from July 31 - August 1. It was traditionally the time when spirits began to be distilled for the coming year. Even today in the British Isles, many distilleries close for the month of August and reopen on September 1. As you sip a good whiskey from those parts, give a tilt of the hat to Lugh--that is, if you can remember where your head is. After a morning of whiskey-tasting at Jameson's Distillery in Ireland, I couldn't!
The traditions still live in many of us. You have but to scratch the surface to find the ancient Celt beneath.
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