With Love Valentine's Day Blog Hop

I thought I had scheduled blog posts for last week, but it looks like I didn't. Oops? In any case, I'm starting off this week with a Blog Hop! This hop is huge, folks, so be sure to click over to check out the 261 other participants. That's a grand total of 262 participants and 262 prizes up for grabs. Check it out at http://thebloghopspot.com/event-page/.

I'm giving away a copy of my fantasy romance novel Ring of Darkness from Noble Romance. I wrote a post about how this book came about here, so check it out if you like. Below is an excerpt.

To enter the contest to win a copy of the book, just leave a comment below before the end of the day on February 14th. I'll draw from the entries and contact the winner no later than Friday of this week.



Some info about the book:

Brienda's life is about to be turned upside down. After five years at the temple of the God-Mother, she is to be married to Tamalor of Callista on her father's orders in order to end aggression between their two countries.

Brienda is upset at this turn of events, but she comes to believe it is part of a larger plan and the God-Mother has put her in this place to bring not only peace but a restoration of balance to the ancient powers of her world. She is right, and, in the end, the larger plan will demand more from her than she ever thought she could give--including Tamalor.

EXCERPT: Ring of Darkness

 

Finally bathed, dressed, and ready for dinner, Brienda stood in front of her long mirror, appraising her appearance.

The dress seemed immodest at best, but Brienda knew the show of décolletage was fashionable. The blue flattered her, she supposed, as did the blue ribbons Liara had braided into her flyaway, blonde hair.

Too many freckles, she thought, all over her face and her breasts. Then she wondered why her freckles bothered her. She didn’t know what she should be feeling. Her emotions were in such a jumble she couldn’t pin down any of them. She only knew she didn’t want to cry.

"Do I look all right?" she asked Liara. She felt so pale as to be nearly nonexistent, merely a blue dress encasing nothing.

"You look lovely, Milady. Here, let me put some color on your cheeks."

The rouge covered some of the freckles, but seemed garish to Brienda. Liara also supplied tints for Brienda’s lips and eyelids. When she had finished, Brienda felt even more unreal, as if the makeup and fine clothes were all that was left of her.

"There," Liara said, admiring her handiwork. "The Lord Callista will be enchanted."

Was this what would enchant the Lord Callista? A pretty dress and a painted face? Or perhaps he didn’t care about her appearance at all, but only about ending the war with Grammale. Her lips trembled; apparently, she was going to cry whether she wanted to or not.

"Don’t be nervous," Liara told her. "You’ll be fine."

She wasn’t nervous. She was terrified. Nevertheless, when her father came to fetch her, she drew herself up tall and refused the arm he held out for her.

"Lord Tamalor won’t appreciate defiance," Baradan said in a low voice.

Brienda didn’t answer. If doing everything she could to maintain her sanity constituted defiance, then so be it.

They turned the corner, heading toward the Hall. "You do look lovely, though."

"Thank you, Father," she said coolly.

They fell silent. Brienda barely noticed. She wished she had her prayer beads, but had no way of carrying them in the extravagant dress. The prayers calmed her as she recited them in her head, but she was losing count of the number of repetitions without the beads.

As they neared the hall, Baradan grasped her shoulder. "Don’t disgrace me," he said.

Brienda gave him a bitter smile. She had no intention of disgracing anyone.

The hall was full already, the long tables lined with people. Even the dogs, hovering among the dried rushes on the floor, seemed expectant. Baradan led Brienda to the seat next to his. On the other side of the table sat three empty chairs.

"They’re not here yet," Baradan explained, a grin twitching at his lips. "Apparently the Lord Callista ripped his trousers."

Surprised and more than a little amused, Brienda fought back a smile of her own. "I hope he had an extra pair."

Baradan laughed. "The thought of marrying you must have overly excited him."

Brienda’s smile died. Trust her father to find lewdness in everything. He hadn’t even been able to make the trip back from the temple without taking serving girls to bed at every inn, often in groups. Several had looked younger than Brienda. She’d been grateful he’d made allowances for her to have a separate room wherever they stopped, though even that hadn’t shielded her from the noise.

He leered happily at the girl who refilled his glass. She acknowledged his look with a smile before turning politely to Brienda. "Wine?"

Brienda nodded. The girl filled her glass. Tasting it, Brienda barely registered the fruity aroma and rich flavor, but the warming effects of the alcohol steadied her.

"Why didn’t you tell me the wedding was in a week?" she asked Baradan quietly.

"I thought you had enough to think about." He still watched the door to the hall. His mouth twitched. "Here he is."

Her heart beating far too quickly, Brenda looked toward the door. Three men had entered the hall. Two wore plain brown soldiers’ uniforms, while the third was unmistakably Lord Callista. She recognized him from the scrying bowl. The realization unnerved her.

Tall, broad, and dark, her future husband wore a black doublet and trousers, black boots of fine leather. A heavy gold signet ring decorated his right thumb.

Carefully, her hand shaking on the wineglass she’d just set down, Brienda looked at his face. Among the fair men of Grammale, he was striking. His skin was nut-brown, his long, black hair tied back with a simple, black cord. He had a long, straight nose and a full lower lip. Amidst the darkness, his eyes were startlingly blue. He looked across the room, saw Baradan, and smiled. Brienda felt a little weak. She set her glass down and was surprised to find it half-empty.

Baradan stood as Tamalor approached, sketching a brief bow, which Tamalor returned.

"Lord Grammale," Tamalor said. "A pleasure to see you again."

Brienda averted her eyes. Tamalor’s voice was deep but gentle, with a clipped accent that made him sound as if he were talking too fast.

"Yes," Baradan answered. He cleared his throat. Tamalor had politely avoided looking at Brienda. "This is my daughter, Brienda."

The introduction gave Tamalor leave to address his bride-to-be. "Milady," he said. He looked directly into her eyes and smiled, putting out his hand. "You look lovely, if I may say so."

Brienda laid her hand in his. His palm was rough with calluses. This close, she could smell him, the odor faint and musky. She trembled as his lips touched her hand. He was a strange and alien creature, something she’d never thought she would have to become acquainted with.

She withdrew her hand as he straightened. The reality of what would happen to her had suddenly struck. Those big, rough hands would touch her. He would invade her with his body and change her forever. There would be no rescue—of that she was suddenly certain. But how could she possibly bear it?

She couldn’t eat the extravagant dinner. The roast quail, one of her favorite dishes, stuck in her throat. Lord Callista and her father spoke of treaties and battles and debated points of horsemanship. Brienda fought back tears and drank too much wine. Her gaze kept wandering to Tamalor, wondering how much he would hurt her. Wondering what it would be like to be separated from the God-Mother forever.

Catching one of Brienda’s surreptitious glances, Tamalor smiled at her. The smile made small lines appear at the corners of his mouth and eyes. His mouth was gentle, not hard like her father’s. She couldn’t stand to hold his gaze. She took another sip of wine, and her head spun.

"Father," she whispered.

Absorbed in conversation with Tamalor, he didn’t answer. Brienda tugged at his sleeve. "Father, I need to leave."

He turned toward her, his mouth a thin line. "You’ll stay until you’re excused."

"Father, I don’t feel well." She tried to keep her voice low, but desperation leaked into it. Tamalor leaned toward her.

"Is something wrong?"

"It’s nothing," Baradan shot back. He turned back to Brienda. "You’ll stay until I say you can leave."

"Then I would suggest you let me leave before I vomit all over the table. I don’t think that would make a good impression on the Lord Callista." She managed to keep her voice low, but inside she was fuming.

Over Baradan’s shoulder, Tamalor said, "Milady, you don’t look well. Perhaps you’re in need of rest?"

Baradan’s eyes flashed angrily at Brienda before he turned back to Tamalor. "Perhaps you’re right," he said, as if it had all been his idea. "I’ll send for Liara."

"Thank you," Brienda said, trying to sound grateful and failing miserably.

Liara came promptly. Relieved, Brienda took her hand and let the older woman help her from her chair. Tamalor stood as Brienda did.

"I hope it’s not serious," he said. The mild, accented voice carried genuine concern.

"I’ll be fine," she assured him in a quavering voice. "It was a long trip. I only need to rest." She couldn’t look at him. Maybe later she could try again. She’d have to look at him sometime, she supposed.

"Well, then." He lifted his hand, and, for a moment, she was afraid he would touch her. But he only turned the hand slightly and lowered it again. "Sleep well."

"Thank you." She should say something else, she thought, and stammered, "You, too." Shakily, she took Liara’s hand and let herself be led to her rooms.

Liara looked concerned. "You didn’t eat very much."

"I wasn’t hungry. I need to sleep. I’m exhausted. They shouldn’t have made me do this. Can you—" She stopped. Tears rose in a great lump in her throat, stinging her eyes, blinding and choking her. She swallowed hard. "Leave me, please."

Liara departed quietly. Brienda crumpled to the bed and wept.

---

Idea Growth--Ring of Darkness

Ring of Darkness was another book that took a very long time to arrive in its current form. I think I had the basic idea, of an arranged marriage and a magical threat, cooked up some time in Jr. High (yeah, they call it middle school now—whatever). In fact, I have another partial manuscript lying around somewhere with a similar plot seed.

The story itself, though, didn’t come to fruition until about 1993. I remember writing big chunks of it while I was at home on maternity leave with my now 18-year-old son. I would type with one hand while he was nursing in the bend of the other arm. I had set a goal at that time of writing at least one page in my steno notebook (about 220 words) every day, but even a paragraph or two felt like a major accomplishment. (I was obsessed with steno notebooks back then. I wrote everything in them, because they fit in my purse and I could carry them anywhere. I gravitate to Moleskines now for the same reason.)

The very first version of this book I shared with an online group I belonged to at the time (still belong to, actually). The read it chapter by chapter and provided feedback. When I finished and had done my editing pass, I sent it out to a few publishers, with no luck. It went into the drawer for a while after that.

I know I fiddled with the book off and on for a while, but the revision I really remember occurred in the winter of 2001. Ring of Darkness was the first book I dove back into after 9/11, and served as part of my emotional recovery. I don’t recall what changes I made, but I remember being profoundly relieved that I could write at all. It had been hard to put words together for a while.

I submitted the book a few other places over the years, but it finally found a home at Noble Romance last year.

What I’m Reading—Earth’s Children—Plains of Passage

Photo from bn.com. Affiliate link.

In the course of researching for Ring of Darkness and the rest of the books I plan to write in the Ring Saga (I’m working on Ring of Light right now), I’ve spent time thinking about how religious systems are structured and the differences between patriarchal and matriarchal cultures. Though there are still a very few societies in the world that function under matriarchal ideologies, the major religions on our planet have all bent to the demands of patriarchy.

Some believe that, long ago in our prehistory, this was not the case. Before human beings could record their beliefs in written language, there might have been a belief system based on a Mother Goddess. These speculations—and unfortunately they are just speculations—are based on art from this prehistoric period. Before we had written language, we had art, and much of this art is interpreted to support the idea of a matriarchal society and a companion Goddess-based religion.

Lately I’ve been re-reading the Earth’s Children series by Jean Auel. I first read the first three volumes many years ago, and now that there is another book to be had, I decided to pick them up again.

In these books, Auel recognizes the school of thought that believes our earliest belief systems focused on a goddess. But her presentation, to me, doesn’t stay true to this vision.

In Clan of the Cave Bear, we meet the Clan, a group of Neanderthals who take in Ayla, the too-good-to-be-true heroine of the series who is presented as a modern human. The Clan worships an Earth Mother, but their society is structured in such a way that males and females hold tightly proscribed roles. Men hunt and do manly things. Women are mothers, healers, and preparers of food. And ne’er the twain shall meet, as Ayla discovered when her more flexible brain realizes she is perfectly capable of hunting.

More disturbingly, the females are expected to make themselves sexually available at a signal from any male in the tribe. Auel attributes all these characteristics of the Clan culture to a racial memory. All the Clan hold these memories, which go all the way back to the primeval goo. A neat idea, but also far too easy an explanation for a culture that supposedly believes in a Mother Goddess, yet subjugates all its women.

The belief systems of the more modern humans, represented by Ayla’s eventual lover Jondalar, seems very different at first. Women are free to perform any duties they find appropriate to their skills, from hunting to cooking to sacred prostitution. The role of certain women in initiating men sexually aligns with many of the ideas of how a Goddess-based society might have worked. Women are also initiated by chosen men, “opened” so that male spirits can enter their wombs and impregnate them. (The idea that, at this point in history no one but Ayla was able to figure out the relationship between sex and pregnancy is another major quibble.)

Ayla finds herself in a position to express herself more freely as a woman and an individual as she travels with Jondalar, and learns more about his people and their relationship to Doni, their mother goddess.

However.

A sub plot in Plains of Passage, to me, undermines this idea of an idyllic Goddess-based belief system. A young woman in a tribe Ayla and Jondalar visit has been gang-raped by a group of thugs who have been similarly harassing the Clan females in the area. (Another aside—the Clan response to the rape of their women is generally, “But they didn’t give us the signal. If they’d just given the proper signal, we would have been happy to succumb to their demands. It’s what a good Clan woman does.” Also cringe-worthy.)

This young woman, who has suffered this horrible violation, is not treated with love and respect. Instead, her family is devastated that their virgin daughter was taken sexually before she could be properly “opened” by an approved male in the relevant ceremony. And in order to be acceptable to the eligible males in the tribe, she must be cleansed in a special ceremony—performed by a man.

This strikes me as severely ridiculous. The idea of a woman being “ruined” by rape—or, for that matter, by consensual sex—is part and parcel of a patriarchal mindset. Why in the world would a Mother Goddess place these kinds of proscriptions on women? Rules that allow a man’s actions to define a woman’s status?

To me, Auel’s portrayal of the belief systems of these people is deeply rooted in the misogynistic prejudices of current religion, particularly Western ideologies. In addition to this bit of nonsense, her tone toward the Clan is consistently positive, as if the limited roles allowed women in this culture, not to mention the virtual sexual slavery enforced upon them, is actually better than the more liberal ideas presented by Jondalar’s people. And Jondalar’s people, while making obeisance to a goddess figure, and holding the Mother above all others, still hold the idea that a woman’s worth is judged by the condition of her genitals.

This seems to be to be a far cry from the ideology proposed by many who have conjectured and theorized about the makeup of the Goddess culture. If this kind of belief system actually existed, I hope it was far more accepting of women—who are, after all, the embodiment of the theoretical Goddess—than Auel’s version.

In my own books, as I continue to work on research in the course of building stories set in the Five Lands, I’m also struggling with the way men and woman would relate to each other in societies that are extremely matriarchal, extremely patriarchal, or some combination of the two. I’m not sure I’m happy with what I’ve done so far with these ideas in Ring of Darkness. But as the stories grow and evolve, I hope to incorporate elements of a matriarchal society and how it could function in ways that don’t carry with them ingrained prejudices of our own largely patriarchal world.

Ring of Darkness--Excerpt

Ring of Darkness is now available from Noble Romance. Check out an excerpt below.

Chapter One

It was no use. Brienda couldn’t remember the Prayer of the Sparrow. Never mind she’d said it fifty times every morning since she’d arrived here five years ago; never mind she’d said it twenty times already this morning. Her fingers rubbed the twenty-first wooden bead on her string of fifty, and her mind drew a complete blank.

"Like the sparrow . . . on the wings of the sparrow, I fly to the light of the sun—to the light of the moon?—wherein lies the spirit of the Great Mother . . . ."

Was that right? It didn’t sound right. What was wrong with her, that she suddenly couldn’t remember a prayer she’d said a thousand times? Something was wrong . . . . No, surely not. The Temple of the Mother was the safest place in all Grammale, made so by long-ago arrangements with the Lord of the Land. Arrangements that let the Mother rule here unchallenged, while men ruled the country itself. Nothing could be wrong here. Perhaps her forgetfulness was due only to excitement—anticipation of the ceremonies starting in two days, during which she would take her vows and be promoted from an Initiate to a Sparrow Mother.

"Not if you can’t remember your prayers," she muttered. She clenched the small wooden bead and squeezed her eyes shut.

"On the wings of the sparrow—"

Then it struck her.

The silence.

She should have been hearing birdsong, insects chirping, perhaps a sound from the fox’s den she knew lay hidden in the outcroppings to her right. But there was nothing.

Then, suddenly, an explosion of sound. Shouting, men’s voices, sacrilege. Brienda never saw them, even as they pushed her hard to the ground from behind. Mouth full of loam, she choked out, "On the wings of the sparrow, I fly to the light of the sun wherein lies the spirit of the Great Mother; in the breast of the wren—"

"Silence!"

Brienda hadn’t heard a man’s voice in five years, much less the voice of a soldier. Even without seeing them, she knew that was what these men were. But why were they here, and why would they dare lay hands on her in this holy place? Unless they were raiders from Callista—

This flash of thought overwhelmed her with fear; she jerked once in her captor’s arms, and he lifted her half off the ground, twisting one arm behind her.

"Be still!" His voice was loud and hot against her ear. "Don’t struggle, and perhaps it won’t be so hard for you."

"Mother protect me—" she started. Then one of the men stepped in front of her. Not a large man, but compact and built for combat. He wore a chain shirt, and the gold band around his head was nearly lost in the gold of his hair. His beard and his scarred face looked strange to her, alien after spending so much time among only women. But she knew him.

His hand rested on the pommel of his sword, and his gaze rose from Brienda’s face as he addressed the man who held her. "Hurt her, and I’ll kill you where you stand."

The hands on Brienda’s arms loosened. The man behind her spoke, his voice shaking a little. "Milord."

Brienda swallowed, staring at the all-too-familiar figure in front of her. "What are you doing here?"

The golden man regarded her coolly. "You used to have more respect for your betters."

"That was when I thought you were my better." The words leapt out before she could swallow them. But the man only smiled.

"I was afraid the Bird Mothers might turn you into a shrew. I see I was right. No matter—you’ll have to do." He jerked a thumb toward the darker woods beyond the border of the sacred grounds. "Take her. We’re wasting time."

"And you’ll waste more of it."

Brienda’s heart leapt at this voice—a woman’s voice and a familiar one. The Owl Mother stepped out from the trees. Smaller than the golden man, infinitely older, wearing homespun robes, and a crown of her own hair braided and wound about her head, she seemed nevertheless his equal.

"You’ll not take her," the Owl Mother said, matter-of-factly.

"I will," said the golden man. Brienda stared at him, her mind still unwilling to admit he was truly here.

The Owl Mother smiled. "I would think you would have learned, Baradan. It’s your choice, of course, but, if you take your daughter from this holy place, you and your men will die before you reach the borders."

Baradan swallowed, regarding the Owl Mother. Finally, he raised one hand.

"Let her go," he said. "Go with the priestess."

The hands, which had tightened at the Owl Mother’s arrival, now released her. Rubbing the bruises they left behind, Brienda went to the Owl Mother’s side.

"Make them leave," she whispered.

The Owl Mother shook her head. Her amber eyes regarded Brienda briefly. "They will speak to me," she said. "We will see."

The simple words sent a wash of fear down Brienda’s spine. She clutched her beads. For whatever good it would do her, she could remember the prayers now.

Ring of Darkness--Now Available

Ring of Darkness is now available from Noble Romance. Stop by and check it out!

Brienda's life is about to be turned upside down. After five years at the temple of the God-Mother, she is to be married to Tamalor of Callista on her father's orders in order to end aggression between their two countries.

Brienda is upset at this turn of events, but she comes to believe it is part of a larger plan and the God-Mother has put her in this place to bring not only peace but a restoration of balance to the ancient powers of her world. She is right, and, in the end, the larger plan will demand more from her than she ever thought she could give--including Tamalor.

Ring of Darkness--Coming Soon

I'm working on edits now for Ring of Darkness, my fantasy romance that will be coming out from Noble Romance in the very near future. Here's a sneak peek at the cover, and keep an eye out for more news.

News! New Novel on the Way

I've just signed a contract with Noble Romance to publish a fantasy romance novel called Ring of Darkness. This story has a long history, but it's finally found a home, which makes me happy. With luck, I'll be able to write the four-book series I had intended to write when I first envisioned this book.

Ring of Darkness will be arriving in early March.