This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Marie Judson will award an epub copy of one of her books to a randomly drawn winner. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.
Boldo: What d’ ye mean by Traveler? And what’s this medieval time ye speak of?”
Me: Well, you happen to be visiting the 21st century, which is a millennium after your time.
Boldo: Am I, now? That’s new t’ me.
Me: You came to this time to visit Kay, bring her boots, and get the cloth she wove.
Boldo: Is that where I be? I followed a spirit path, not knowin’ the exact…ye know…year. Kay be a most enchanting woman. And she saved me. Did ye know that?
Me: I did. As a matter of fact, I wrote that.
Boldo: Wrote it? [His face quirks into a crooked smile, doubt in his eyes.]
Me: Let’s set that aside. So Kay is enchanting and she saved you from a Jutland dungeon. Has she visited you lately?
Boldo: Oh, aye. ‘Course, the boots keep us connected. But she likes to come to our camp. I suspect you’re Kay’s sister, aren’t you, because you tend to write down what happens in her life.
Me: Yes, that’s sort of true. Like Kyna and Talaith are nearly sisters.
Boldo: That they be. You recently wrote down what happened with Kay’s daughter, Sophie. She must be your niece. You called the story, “Sophie the Sylph.” I actually saw some o’ what happened. We’re tellin’ that fine tale around the fire, ye know. She did indeed come to the forest where we were dinin’, for the summer solstice.
Me: You were there at that dinner? Oh, yes, I saw you, playing your fiddle. And did you see Hamelyn walk away into the trees?
Boldo: I did. He followed Bedw and the other sylphs. I was certain Sophie’s spirit was among them and it turns out, I was right. What a treat, Hamelyn carried off by the sylphs. They won’t absorb just anyone, you know.
Me: I suspected that. Well, it’s been wonderful talking with you. Stay out of trouble.
Boldo: I can try. [He winked and stood to leave, giving me a bow.]
Celtic mythology, medieval history, and modern-day mystery blend in this story where past and present collide.
Kay, a professor of ancient languages, finds herself drawn into a hidden realm of magic and danger. Transported to a medieval world on Halloween night, she meets Baird, an enchanging stranger who claims to know her spirit, and Duff, a burly silversmith who welcomes her as Kyna, long-lost kin. Kay joins them in a festive celebration where she discovers she can understand their arcane tongue, as ghostly figures haunt the night.
When dawn comes, she is in her own time, still holding a silver pendant that connects her to Baird and his world. She struggles to return to that time even as Baird is endeavoring to find her and unravel the secret of their connection. Follow Kay and Baird on their journey across dimensions in this novel of intrigue, adventure, and magic.
Enjoy an Excerpt
Franklin Street Café had a lively crowd bathed in the lurid orange glow of gauze-covered lights. A projector flashed images of old Celtic stones onto the wall. A fabric forest hung across the entrance to the next room, the air permeated by yeasty aromas of pizza crust and ale. Shouts of conversations battled to be heard over haunting music and the clatter of dishes.
Where were the nyads and faeries? In place of the figures of enchantment in the email invitation, Kay saw a faux belly dancer who never should have revealed her midriff, and men dressed in bathrobes and tennis shoes attempting, she supposed, to convey Druidic high priests. With absurd disappointment at seeing no apparent magic, she thought she wouldn’t stay long. Then her attention was drawn by a hand-printed sign offering homemade organic mead, and pressed through to the bar. A young waitress, her peachy complexion disturbingly pierced with lead posts, asked for her order.
“Could I taste the Moonlight Mead?” she requested.
“Certainly.” The young woman behind the bar handed over a sample.
Pushing aside glued-on mustache hairs, Kay sipped the tasty brew, then ordered a twelve-ounce, and again surveyed the crowd. She considered making the glass of mead a solo act when she noticed a birdlike creature, tall and hunched like a heron, tattered feathers splaying from head and neck. It stalked, with wild-bird grace, across the projection of ancient stones, through the cloth trees, into the next room. Kay’s drink arrived, and she followed the strange apparition.
About the Author:
Screenshot
Buy the book at Amazon.
Thank you for hosting today.