THANKFUL AUTHOR BLOG ROUNDUP
Featuring Mary Gillgannon
What I'm Thankful For
I am thankful for my family and friends, I don’t think I
would be able to appreciate or enjoy them as much if it wasn’t for the other
thing I’m very thankful for—writing.
Before I started writing fiction, I struggled with
depression. Nothing severe, mainly a vague feeling of unhappiness and
dissatisfaction. Writing changed that. Not only did writing books give me a
purpose and concrete goals, the creative process itself seemed to change me.
When I am in the hyper-focus state of writing, everything falls away and I
become calmer, less stressed and more optimistic. It’s like the perfect drug
with few side effects (Well, OK, my house isn’t nearly as clean as it should
be!)
I’ve published fifteen books, all set in the past. I love
the gritty details of the medieval and dark age time periods and the brawny
warrior heroes who inhabit them. When I started my latest book, Call Down the Moon, it was also
originally a historical romance. But somewhere in the process of writing it, I
realized that while my story started out in the past, my characters didn’t stay
there. Before I knew it, they’d ended up in contemporary Denver .
It turns out that Irish warrior Connar and his beloved
Aisling didn’t get their happily ever after back in ninth century Ireland . But
when it doesn’t work out for them in the past, Connar uses magic to follow
Aisling to the future so they can have another chance together. But once there,
he has to cope with the dark forces that have followed him from the past. And
Aisling, now Allison Hunter, has to deal with the terrifying visions she
experiences whenever she’s around him. Because Allison doesn’t remember her
previous life. Which means Connar has to get her to fall in love with him all
over again.
The nine Sisters danced upon the hillside.
Light from the Seed Moon revealed their long flowing hair—raven black, blood
red, gold and silver. It shone on their nakedness, young and old flesh shaped
into the flowing lines of the Earth Goddess herself. Their bodies gleamed as
they writhed and whirled, calling on the Ancient Ones.
Aisling stood in the center of the circle
of women. Whorls of black and crimson marked her breasts and belly, while
serpent shapes encircled her arms and ankles. Her skin felt heavy, as if the
patterns covering her had substance, as if they were not merely dyes from earth
and plants. Her body tingled and her nipples felt hard. Her lower belly and
thighs burned with a heat that defied the cool night air.
Aisling took a deep breath. Her night. Her
initiation. Although she had watched the Sisters dance many times before, she
had never been part of the circle. She feared the gods would not speak to her.
Even more, she feared they would pronounce for her some future she could not endure.
The dance grew more frantic. The women
wove in and out, a ribbon of pulsing flesh. They formed circles within the
circle. Three sets of three, the sacred number. The whirling dancers bound
Aisling in place in the center of the magic. The tension built. The night air
crackled with energy, fierce as lightning. Their voices rang out in eerie
exhortation and they ended the dance with arms stretched to the sky, long hair
streaming down their backs.
A few heartbeats passed. Then they
approached Aisling and guided her to the fire on the other side of the hill. As
she reached it, Aisling turned and saw her companions’ sweat-slicked faces, lit
by the orange gold flames. They looked weary, empty. Maebbina, the oldest, took
Aisling's arm firmly and guided her to a caldron near the fire.
"Look," she said. "Look in the scrying bowl."
Aisling bent over the cauldron, heart
hammering. She stared at the oily surface shining in the firelight. At first,
she saw nothing. Nothing but blackness, the reflection of flames and her own
face. She knew a sharp disappointment, mingled with relief. The magic didn't
work. Everything was real and ordinary. She stiffened as something in the orb
of liquid began to swell and grow. There was another light there, softer,
grayer. Silver instead of the gold of the fire. It was filled with shapes. The
sheen of armor and flash of weapons caught her eye. "Warriors," she
murmured.
The women near her whispered with
excitement. Aisling watched as the shapes in the cauldron grew nearer, filling
her vision. The warriors were all around her. She could hear the clank and
rattle of their weapons, smell the scent of them. Dust and sweat... and man.
Their long hair flowed over their shoulders. Their hands stood ready on their
weapons. Their hot breath covered her.
One of them
grasped her wrist and fixed her with a piercing look, his eyes like the glowing
green depths of a shadowed forest pool. "Aisling, my love," he
whispered.
Happy Thanksgiving!
Call Down the Moon, the first book in the Soulmate
series
Available December 29 from The Wild Rose Press
Love the excerpt, Mary. As tough as writing is, I agree that I never feel better than when I'm creating! All the best!
ReplyDeleteI loved your excerpt, Mary. Happy Thanksgiving!
ReplyDeleteExcellent excerpt and great cover, as well. I am grumpy when I am not working on a project.
ReplyDeleteHello Mary.
ReplyDeleteGlad to hear writing has such a good effect on you. And love the words 'get her to fall in love with him all over again." *Sigh* How is one supposed to resist THAT! :)
Annie (aka Kelly Ann Scott)
I agree - writing is much less expensive than a psychiatrist, and a million times more healthy! I can't tell you how many times I've combined some of the meanies I've experienced and killed them off. Very satisfying! Okay, don't call the cops, I meant I murdered them in my books - really - fictionally, only. Happy Thanksgiving!
ReplyDeleteWhat a 'timely' post, Mary, sharing what you're thankful for - I, too, am thankful for so many things, among them the ability, both physically and mentally, to write. Oh, and what Annie said, too! So romantic! I love the book's title.
ReplyDeleteOh, that sounds like an excellent story. Like I've said, Mary, you won't be remembered for a clean house.
ReplyDeleteSuch a nice post. Clean house? Are we supposed to do that? ;) I really like the title of this book. Best of luck with it.
ReplyDeleteI agree with Barbara on the clean house thing.
ReplyDeleteI loved the excerpt. It sounds like a fascinating story.