Love Is Timeless

I'm back into writing time travels again and kicking off my new Ladies in Time series with Book 1, Somewhere My Lady.  My other time travel series, Somewhere In Time, is still available at Amazon.  I find the whole concept of time travel and the many possibilities associated with it fascinating--sure keeps the wheels turning.

Before I begin any story I do a lot of research and pondering. Characters tug at me and scenes beckon, snatches of conversation play in my mind... Weeks, even months, may go by before I write a word, while the ideas simmer.

Inspiration for Somewhere My Lady came in various ways, but if I had to choose one, I’d say music. Edith's Theme, the hauntingly beautiful song from Crimson Peak, stirred my imagination long before I watched the movie, which was after I finished the book. Other songs in the soundtrack also sent my imagination soaring, but that one really did. Scenes took shape in my mind, especially the ghostly dance I wrote in chapter one.

Another draw for me is old homes. I’ve lived in them most of my life and visited many others. The stately brick home in the Shenandoah Valley where my father grew up dates back to 1816. It’s called Chapel Hill and lies behind many of the homes I write. I also love gardening and have sprawling beds filled with heirloom flowers and herbs. Some plants have been here for ages and our valley farm-house was built in the 1870's.

The gardens in Somewhere My Lady are especially beautiful and I used herbs in the story. Old homes exude an indefinable sense of place. Families filled them with the emotions accompanying the events taking place in their lives. The walls witnessed their sagas, good and bad, and absorbed the energy. A much lived in home is never really empty. Perhaps the spirits of those who once dwelt there come back and visit, or they leave a part of themselves behind. I don't know, but I like a good ghost story.

Harrison Hall, the colonial era home in this story, is loosely based on Shirley Plantation, a magnificent 18th century home built along the James River in Virginia. In the story, this wonderful manor sized house is a paranormal hot spot, concealing a deadly mystery Hart and Lorna must solve.

‘Somewhere My Lady is a fun supernatural romance that will have you slipping in and out of the past and future as if you were a spirit yourself.’’ ~Colleen’s Book Reviews

"Quite simply, one of the best paranormal, time slip stories I’ve ever had the pleasure to read," ~Splashes Into Books

Story Blurb: 

Lorna Randolph is hired for the summer at Harrison Hall in Virginia, where Revolutionary-War reenactors provide guided tours of the elegant old home. She doesn't expect to receive a note and a kiss from the handsome young man who then vanishes into mist.

Harrison Hall itself has plans for Lorna – and for Hart Harrison, her momentary suitor and its 18th century heir. Past and present are bound by pledges of love, and modern science melds with old skills and history as Harrison Hall takes Lorna and Hart through time in a race to solve a mystery and save Hart's life before the Midsummer Ball.~

Excerpt:

Something about him held her spellbound…the tilt of his head, arch of his brow, glimpse of his profile… She followed his every move with the fixity of an owl.
He turned blue-gray eyes toward her and sensuous lips curved into a smile on his handsome face. Hands down. No contest. He was the hottest guy ever. Her heart beat a thrilling new rhythm.

He circled closer to where she stood rooted in the foyer, not moving a toe, scarcely drawing breath. Did he truly see her backed tremulously against the wall, or did it only feel that way?
Unlike the others in the ghostly assembly, his eyes didn’t skirt past her. He paused in the dance. Bending at the shoulders, he tipped his hand to her in a genteel flourish.

He’d freakin’ bowed. Her jaw dropped. He most definitely saw her. And she sure as heck saw him.

A sparking sizzle jumped between them, awakening her as she’d never been roused before. Even more than when the house charged through her at her arrival. It was as if she were plugged in—to him.

How that could be, she had no idea, but when he gazed into her eyes, time seemed to stop. She spiraled into moonless stars, and back again to this dizzying realm. To him. Even if she were dreaming, she’d never forget this moment.~

Somewhere My Lady is available from all major online booksellers. In Kindle at: https://www.amazon.com/Somewhere-Lady-Ladies-Time-Book-ebook/dp/B071VTNC7V

Images are from my garden.

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I See Dead People--An Author Thing

Actually, anyone writing historicals featuring those who've gone before us see dead people. Most of the folk who've ever walked this earth are departed, if you think about it. But not necessarily gone. Characters speak to me, unless they're sulking. And I see them, unless they're being elusive. Conversations and scenes unfold like watching a movie. Some only in snatches; others are far more in-depth. The trick is to capture these tantalizing glimpses before they fade like mist in the sun. I'm certain this time I'll remember. How can I forget something so vivid, right? A faulty assumption on my part. The bold enactment that played so brightly before me only last evening, or a few hours ago, grows hazy. I struggle to recall the details. Life intrudes and the clarity is lost. I'm learning to jot down some notes before the words zoom away, except for the scene I'm flirting with now that I'm positive I'll remember...tomorrow. 

Speaking of communing with characters, sometimes out of the blue, I was walking in our meadow one afternoon when I heard  a woman say, "Master Stuart do not venture here." And she floated toward me in the mist so that I wasn't certain she was real. Neither was Stuart Monroe, hero of the story, especially as he was in the graveyard at the time. That's how ghostly Gothic historical romance novel, Traitor's Curse, opens, and now you know why. I never know how inspiration may come, only that it will.

Traitor's Curse (out Nov. 6th) is available for pre-order in Kindle and Nookbook and will also be available in print. The novel is the third in my Traitor's Legacy Series and the sequel to Traitor's Legacy, released by The Wild Rose Press

Excerpt from Traitor's Curse:

 “Turn back. A man watches you.”

Again, the warning carried from the unseen source.

What man, and how did she know Stuart was observed? He could barely discern anything.

“Who are you? Show yourself.” Uneasiness lent indignation to his demand.

Through the haze, he spotted the figure of a young female dressed all in white. A death shroud?

Pray God, it wasn’t. His gut knotted, and he stood staring at her.

Ethereal, ghostly, she seemed to float toward him, but must have walked.

 Must have.

A cold shiver stood the hair on the back of his neck on end. Was she flesh and blood, or spirit? Had she crossed the divide between the two worlds?

He scarcely dared to breathe.

Still, he stood rooted to the trail. And not only from fright. Fascination. Despite fear of being haunted, an aura about her drew him.

He waited, every muscle taut, poised betwixt heaven and earth, the scent of crumbling leaves in his nose. At least, that was real.

Whiteness swirling around her, she neared.

Then he spotted it, an ivory coverlet draped over her head and around her slender shoulders pinched together in front with pale fingers.

No shroud.

The blanket reached to her ankles and trailed behind along the ground. Mist muted the flowers stitched into the cloth. This accounted for him not spotting her sooner. She’d blended in with the vapor.~

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The Inspiration of Autumn

Fall is my favorite season. I'm deliriously exuberant in the spring, and as busy as a mad hen with all my many gardening endeavors, but fall is a wonderful wind down time. Sure, there's tidying up to do in the garden and flower beds,  bulbs to plant, some acorn squash and pumpkins to get in...but the weeds don't drive me as insane as they did earlier in the year. Like the season, I'm more mellow now. I can breathe, and gaze about my lovely farm and valley, admire the spectacular color in the hazy ridges. We live in one of the most heavenly places on earth. I call our valley 'the Shire.' Fall is a sumptuous feast for the senses.

With few exceptions, I've set my stories in autumn.  My new YA fantasy romance series, Secret Warrior, takes place in the fall in our misty mountains. Traitor's Curse, my upcoming ghostly Gothic historical romance release, is set in late autumn. Unless the time period for a story needs to be spring or summer, or winter for a Christmas theme, I always choose fall. There's coziness in front of a crackling hearth, while outdoors, foggy tendrils entwine the scarlet leaves and obscure the darkening path through the woods. Fall is an intriguing combination of coziness and mystery.

Recently, I showed my six-year-old grandson, and eight year-old granddaughter some of my book covers. Little Owen misunderstood and thought we were looking at viewing options. He pointed to the cover of The Hunter's Moon (Book One in my YA series) and said, "I want to watch THAT movie!" His sister also liked it, and thought the cover of Traitor's Curse looked like an interesting story. So, I have two potential fans.

If you don't live where fall is glorious, and can't tap into the inspiration all around you, then share in mine.~

"Winter is an etching, spring a watercolor, summer an oil painting and autumn a mosaic of them all."
~Stanley Horowitz

 

"Autumn’s the mellow time."
~William Allingham

(Images by my mom, Pat Churchman)

"Delicious autumn! My very soul is wedded to it, and if I were a bird I would fly about the earth seeking the successive autumns." ~George Eliot

"Autumn is a second spring where every leaf is a flower."~Albert Camus

 

"I cannot endure to waste anything as precious as autumn sunshine by staying in the house. So I spend almost all the daylight hours in the open air." ~Nathaniel Hawthorne

 



"Autumn burned brightly, a running flame through the mountains, a torch flung to the trees."
~Faith Baldwin

"Every leaf speaks bliss to me,
Fluttering from the autumn tree."
~Emily Bronte



(Our farm. Image by daughter Elise. She's pictured above as a child with her little friend hiding by a tree in the woods behind our farm.)

For more on me visit my blog: https://bethtrissel.wordpress.com/