Bits 'n Bobs Author Blog
3/17/2017 11 Comments Guest Author Barbara Bettis on St. Patrick's Day, a Book sale, and a giveaway!Barbara Bettis is visiting today with some great info on St. Patrick. And, as a special treat, she's offering her book The Lady of the Forest for 99 cents for a limited time-- AND a chance to win a $5 gift certificate! So, read up on St. Patrick in her fun post below, scoop up a fantastic book at a fantastic price, and comment below for a chance to win the gift certificate! Happy St. Patrick's Day! from Barbara Bettis- Today my latest book goes on sale for 99 cents. Please check out The Lady of the Forest. AMAZON To celebrate, I’m giving away a $5 Amazon Gift Card to one commenter. Happy St. Patrick’s Day! ’Tis the Wearing of the Green, so pin on your shamrock, watch out for leprechauns and pass the corned beef and cabbage. Yes, the venerable observance named for Ireland’s primary patron saint has become a holiday throughout the world, often celebrated with parades. Like many holidays, such as Valentine’s Day, the commemoration has taken on multiple layers over the centuries. At its heart, March 17 is the day tradition says St. Patrick died. Originally it was a feast day, a day of spiritual renewal, and was celebrated from the 9th or 10th Century, although one source says the Catholic Church made it an official feast day in the 1600s. Who was St. Patrick? He was born in Roman Britain in about 385 AD of Roman-British descent. He says in his Confessio ( Confession) that at the age of 16, he was kidnapped by Irish pirates and taken to Ireland where he became a slave and tended sheep. After four years, he escaped when he had a dream in which God told him to go to the coast. He did, and found sailors willing to give him passage (after he prayed for God to give them a sign). He returned home, where, some years later he reported he had a vision of a man who handed him a letter headed “The Voice of the Irish.” When Patrick started to read, he heard the voices of many saying, 'We appeal to you, holy servant boy, to come and walk among us.'" This inspired him to study for the priesthood. He was ordained and eventually sent to Ireland, arriving March 25, in the year 433. Some traditions say he brought Christianity to Ireland, but other scholars report that Christian missionaries were already in Ireland when he arrived. However, he took his message throughout the countryside, converting thousands of people and building churches. He is said to have explained the Holy Trinity using the shamrock. This symbol proved effective, sources say, because the people were familiar with triads from their Celtic deities. However it occurred, St. Patrick was extremely successful in converting the Irish to Christianity. There are conflicting theories on the year of his death, but the most commonly accepted is 461. He was buried on cathedral hill, (where Down Cathedral later was built) in Downpatrick, about 21 miles south of what is now Belfast, Ireland. He drove the snakes from Ireland. That’s one of the most famous myths surrounding the saint. In fact, scientists say, there were never snakes on that island. These days, we’re so familiar with the celebratory nature of the holiday—wearing green, parades, corned beef and cabbage. Oddly enough, blue was always associated with St. Patrick. However, over the years various Irish rebellious organizations adopted green as their color and green has since been associated with Ireland and St. Patrick’s Day. Ironically, the first recorded St. Patrick’s Day parade was held —you guessed it—in the U.S. In 1762, Irish soldiers stationed with the British army in the Colonies marched in New York City. And that traditional Irish fare of corned beef and cabbage—isn’t. In Ireland, beef was too valuable to be eaten by the ordinary people. They dined on pork—bacon or ham. Not until immigrants arrived in the U.S. to find beef the cheaper meat did it supplant ham/bacon. Often associated with the Day’s celebration, yet not connected with St. Patrick, leprechauns are straight from the Celtic folk tales. They’re mischievous sprites who love to plague humans and who guard their treasure by fair means or foul. Perhaps mortals will never find the leprechauns’ gold at the end of the rainbow. But the culture of the world is richer for this holiday honoring the saint who was instrumental in bringing Christianity to Ireland and inspiring a tradition that—for one day—brings people of all nationalities together. Because as the saying goes, “On St. Patrick’s Day, everyone is Irish.” * * * Sources: http://www.history.com/topics/st-patricks-day/history-of-st-patricks-day http://www.catholic.org/news/national/story.php?id=73999 http://www.ireland.com/en-us/articles/st-patrick-facts/ https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Saint_Patrick#Dating http://www.irishcentral.com/culture/food-drink/why-do-irish-americans-eat-corned-beef-and-cabbage-instead-of-bacon-for-st-patricks-day-196470851-237570541 https://www.catholicculture.org/culture/library/view.cfm?recnum=101 http://www.maryjones.us/ctexts/lebor4.html (The Tuatha de Dannan) http://store.isisbooks.com/The_Triple_Goddess_s/401.htm https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Triple_deity https://ericwedwards.wordpress.com/2014/03/09/the-celtic-triple-goddess-and-the-divine-hag/ http://www.yourirish.com/folklore/legend-of-leprechauns * * * BLURB: He must pursue his enemy; she must protect her people. Can their love survive the duties that drive them apart? When her elderly husband dies, Lady Katherine fakes her own death and disappears into the forest with others escaping the brutish new lord. Determined to protect her people, she knocks the wrong man senseless. But Lord Henry isn’t an enemy, he’s the brother of her childhood friend. Although his tender confidence tempts her, she’s bound by duty. Henry of Chauvere has found the one lady he wants for his own, never mind she’s tied him hand and foot. When he learns the king has ordered her to wed Stonehill’s ruthless new master, he insists Kate seek haven with his sister. But she won’t desert her friends. Henry vows to solve her problem, provided he catches a traitor before the threat from Kate's past catches her. When a daring rescue compels Henry and Kate to join forces, their attraction grows into love. If only duty didn’t drive them apart. #Sale 99 cents: The Lady of the Forest. AMAZON * * * Thank you, Barbara! It was great to have your post on this St. Patrick's day! Readers, be sure to leave your comment below to be entered for a chance to win the gift certificate. If you do not wish to leave your email address (I promise to use it only to contact the winner), you'll need to check back in a couple of days to see if you've won. ~Cathy
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Today's wedding celebration is interrupted in Barbara Bettis' story, The Lady of the Forest. Is Henry right to challenge Mortimer? What will he risk to keep Kate from marrying the baron? In this excerpt, Henry has interrupted the wedding celebration at Stonehill Castle to challenge Mortimer’s right to marry Kate. [Henry and his two friends] stalked into the hall where the lord held forth at the high table before the household left for the chapel. Kate sat at his right, the priest at his left. “Sir Mortimer.” Henry’s voice boomed above the din. “Stand and answer my challenge.” Mortimer lifted his head. “Lord Henry. Sit, break your fast before I wed my lady.” His oily tone did not match his hard set of jaw and narrowed eyes. Henry ignored the words and continued across the floor. Mortimer rose but before he could speak, Henry leaped onto the dais. “You have no right to demand Lady Katherine in marriage.” It took all Henry’s determination not to glance at Kate. “I have an order from the king, granting me this holding and the lady as my bride.” “I say the order does not exist.” A murmur rose from the people seated at the lower tables. Calling the lord a liar meant a fight. But no sounds arose of benches scraping back. Perhaps the soldiers awaited a signal. Henry stepped closer. “Produce this writ. Let me examine the seal.” Dull red moved up Mortimer’s neck; his nostrils flared. Henry sucked in a breath of satisfaction. He had him now. “You cannot. The people of Stonehill have been mistreated and their lady driven into hiding in fear for her life. You’ve lied and cheated, and you’ve taken part in a treasonous attempt to overthrow one of the king’s barons.” He hadn’t known what to expect from Mortimer, but it wasn’t the self-satisfied upturn of the man’s mouth. Dread scraped a cold trail along Henry’s spine. “You may be another baron and a pet of the king,” Mortimer said, “but that don’t make you always right, and that don’t keep you from facing a fight when you accuse an honest man of wrongdoing.” He motioned to the priest, who stood and withdrew a section of parchment from a leather satchel beside him on the bench. It contained no seals. Henry clenched his teeth. Why in the devil’s own hell hadn’t he considered the priest as the knight’s accomplice? The churchman opened the document and at a nod from Mortimer, read. “Sir Mortimer of Corbeau, in gratitude for service, is granted the holding of Stonehill in Nottinghamshire…” A loud buzzing in Henry’s ears blotted the words that followed. Satan’s backside! The writ existed. The parchment was stained and tattered, not the official document often used to dispense favors, but he’d seen Richard direct a clerk to scratch out such awards after a battle. They were rough and hurried, yet they carried the weight of the king’s power. And they always carried his seal. Where was the seal for this order? Buy Links: AMAZON: http://amzn.to/2czF6Fl TWRP:http://catalog.thewildrosepress.com/search?controller=search&orderby=position&orderway=desc&search_query=the+lady+of+the+forest&submit_search Today's wedding celebration is interrupted in Barbara Bettis' story, The Lady of the Forest. Is Henry right to challenge Mortimer? What will he risk to keep Kate from marrying the baron? In this excerpt, Henry has interrupted the wedding celebration at Stonehill Castle to challenge Mortimer’s right to marry Kate. [Henry and his two friends] stalked into the hall where the lord held forth at the high table before the household left for the chapel. Kate sat at his right, the priest at his left. “Sir Mortimer.” Henry’s voice boomed above the din. “Stand and answer my challenge.” Mortimer lifted his head. “Lord Henry. Sit, break your fast before I wed my lady.” His oily tone did not match his hard set of jaw and narrowed eyes. Henry ignored the words and continued across the floor. Mortimer rose but before he could speak, Henry leaped onto the dais. “You have no right to demand Lady Katherine in marriage.” It took all Henry’s determination not to glance at Kate. “I have an order from the king, granting me this holding and the lady as my bride.” “I say the order does not exist.” A murmur rose from the people seated at the lower tables. Calling the lord a liar meant a fight. But no sounds arose of benches scraping back. Perhaps the soldiers awaited a signal. Henry stepped closer. “Produce this writ. Let me examine the seal.” Dull red moved up Mortimer’s neck; his nostrils flared. Henry sucked in a breath of satisfaction. He had him now. “You cannot. The people of Stonehill have been mistreated and their lady driven into hiding in fear for her life. You’ve lied and cheated, and you’ve taken part in a treasonous attempt to overthrow one of the king’s barons.” He hadn’t known what to expect from Mortimer, but it wasn’t the self-satisfied upturn of the man’s mouth. Dread scraped a cold trail along Henry’s spine. “You may be another baron and a pet of the king,” Mortimer said, “but that don’t make you always right, and that don’t keep you from facing a fight when you accuse an honest man of wrongdoing.” He motioned to the priest, who stood and withdrew a section of parchment from a leather satchel beside him on the bench. It contained no seals. Henry clenched his teeth. Why in the devil’s own hell hadn’t he considered the priest as the knight’s accomplice? The churchman opened the document and at a nod from Mortimer, read. “Sir Mortimer of Corbeau, in gratitude for service, is granted the holding of Stonehill in Nottinghamshire…” A loud buzzing in Henry’s ears blotted the words that followed. Satan’s backside! The writ existed. The parchment was stained and tattered, not the official document often used to dispense favors, but he’d seen Richard direct a clerk to scratch out such awards after a battle. They were rough and hurried, yet they carried the weight of the king’s power. And they always carried his seal. Where was the seal for this order? Buy Links: AMAZON: http://amzn.to/2czF6Fl TWRP:http://catalog.thewildrosepress.com/search?controller=search&orderby=position&orderway=desc&search_query=the+lady+of+the+forest&submit_search 11/14/2016 2 Comments Medieval Monday with Barbara BettisBarbara Bettis is with me to day with an excerpt from her novel, The Lady of the Forest. Henry wishes Kate would heed his words of caution, but he knows better. EXERPT: “Tell Kate to take no chances until I return.” From the downturn of Jamie’s mouth, Henry gathered how well she’d follow such advice. “Hold.” Jamie trotted forward. “Guards patrol along here ever’ day. Don’t know if they been by yet, but you stay just inside the trees. There’s a path runs along the road. Won’t nobody see you. The crossroad’s on further, a bit.” “My thanks, again.” Henry pinned him with a stern gaze. “Have a care for yourself.” Before the youth clambered back into the trees, he flashed his jaunty grin. This time, the smile contained a trace of sadness. Kate’s problems remained on Henry’s mind as he rode, but without all the facts, he couldn’t devise a plan of action. Of his own circumstance, he suspected Sir Mortimer played a double game, although why he pretended to believe Paxton was Henry remained unclear. Perhaps he sought power by supporting a usurper. More than likely, he played a waiting game, to see which outcome presented more opportunity. Travel through the brushy roadside leveled into a slow, monotonous lull, during which he devised a variety of options for dealing with Paxton. His mind grappled with one of those plans when a disturbance, a sound, alerted him. He reined in his mount and listened. Silence. It came again. A series of faint, sharp bird calls. Only a bird called Jamie could emit such a frantic warble. An emergency, indeed, to have sent the youth after him. Henry urged the gelding around and started back. A score of steps later, the calls sounded from just ahead. Movement to his right sent him in that direction. The boy came into view, stepping carefully onto an almost-bare tree limb. “What’s wrong?” Concern turned Henry’s tone sharp as Jamie jumped to the ground. “I feared—I’d not catch you.” Tight lines etched the youngster’s face. “It’s Cade and Oscar. They’re following.” Henry swung down beside him. “Have they been harmed?” Jamie hung his head and gasped for breath, hands on his knees. “Nah. But awful ole Hawise… she saw Cade leaving…and sent up a shout. Said the lad that…freed Oscar...were the dead Lady of Stonehill. You gots to help ’em.” “How far back are they?” As he spoke, he took the boy’s arm to help him sit. “A ways. I ran ahead to catch you.” He heaved in a lung-full of air and blew it out, then flattened a hand to his chest. “For awhile I thought my heart would get here a’fore me.” Kneeling, Henry ruffled the boy’s hair. “You did well. Stay here and rest while I go for them. Are Sir Mortimer’s men following?” Oscar nodded, his unruly curls flopping into his eyes. “But they’re going the wrong way for now. Cade took the south road ’till she could double back without ’em knowing.” “How could they not see her?” The boy snorted. “She knows shortcuts better’n any old guard that don’t gets off his behind. And Sir Mort never bothered to learn nothing about the land nor the tenants since he come. He only cares what he can pry out of ’em.” He gulped another breath. “See, Maddie caught up to me in the woods. She could leave, ’cause nobody never pays attention to a kitchen helper. I waited at the hut ’till Cade got there.” Henry’s heart thudded at the thought of Kate being chased by soldiers. “Is she unharmed?” “Said so, didn’t I?” The boy’s spirit was bouncing back. He’d be fine. But Cade…Kate. He hoped they were near. “Do they have horses?” Jamie nodded. “Cade had’em hid. They’ll be slowed down in the woods. That’s why I came after you.” “You did the right thing. I’ll find her—“ “Cade said stay here, they’d come to you. If you gets lost in the forest, we’d have to go looking.” True. He hated to admit it, but traipsing through unfamiliar countryside might cost unnecessary time. Inactivity grated on his nerves, but he had little choice. He paced a circle around the tree Jamie leaned against until restlessness became too much. Bedamned to an unknown landscape. Kate might be in trouble. “I’m going back,” he announced. “No need.” Jamie nodded toward the trees. “They’re coming.” Two figures on horseback broke through the underbrush, but Henry saw only the blood splashed down the front of Kate’s tunic. * * * BLURB: He must find a traitor; she must protect her people. Can their love survive the duties that drive them apart? When her elderly husband dies, Lady Katherine fakes her own death and disappears into the forest with others escaping the brutish new lord. Determined to protect her people, she knocks the wrong man senseless. But Lord Henry’s not an enemy, he’s the brother of her childhood friend. Although his tender confidence tempts her, she’s bound by duty. Henry of Chauvere has found the one lady he wants for his own, never mind she’s tied him hand and foot. When he learns the king has ordered her to wed Stonehill’s ruthless new master, he insists Kate seek haven with his sister. But she won’t desert her friends. Henry vows to solve her problem, provided he catches a traitor before the threat from Kate's past catches her. When a daring rescue compels Henry and Kate to join forces, their attraction grows into love. If only duty didn’t drive them apart. BUY LINK: http://amzn.to/2czF6Fl A storm frightens Lady Emelin's horse and conjures a monster in Barbara Bettis' tale, Silverhawk. EXCERPT: (Lady Emelin has chosen a stormy night to launch an escape from her tempting kidnapper, Sir Giles) She shivered against the increasing cold and hunched forward to search the path ahead. Why hadn’t she thought to bring one of the blankets? Clouds scudded across the sky. Still she urged the horse onward. She had come too far to turn back now. Had Silverhawk regained consciousness? Discovered her absence? Imagine the surprise, when he awoke alone. She’d shown him she was not helpless. Satisfaction lightened the oppression she was feeling—from the approaching storm; that had to explain the growing dread. Then, carried on bursts of wind, came voices. At last. She’d found them. She straightened, the discomfort of the cold and riding bareback forgotten as she urged the mare forward. Onward down the trail she rode. Once she called out, “Lord Osbert, Garley, I’m here.” No answer came. In the distance, thunder rumbled, and white light knifed across the ominous sky. Please, not rain. Surely the good Lord wouldn’t be so cruel. Her throat constricted. She gulped. She would not panic. Concentrate on deep breaths. If only her heart would stop clamoring to get out. A cold, fat drop struck, followed by two more, a dozen. Then the downpour hit. A jagged streak snapped in front of her. A rolling crash shook the earth. The mare tossed its head, danced aside. Emelin murmured, petted the animal’s neck in an attempt to calm it. But at the next sharp crack, it reared, and shot down the path. Fisting the reins, she clung to its mane as the mount veered through the underbrush, away from the sharp zigzags of light. Branches struck her face, snatched at her skirts, nearly dragged her off. How she managed to keep her seat, she didn’t know. All she could think was, Don’t fall. Don’t fall. Don’t fall. At last the mare slowed. Emelin squinted through wet eyes, reached out to knock aside a soggy branch, dripping leaves. Finally, the animal stopped, blowing hard, trembling. Emelin shook. Breath came in gasps. Her mind could not form a coherent thought as cold wetness dripped from her hair to ooze down her back. The frightened flight of the horse had carried her far from the path. She was hopelessly lost. All around, wind-whipped shadows dipped, lunged forward, then back. Another spear of lightning wrenched into a nearby tree. Her shout of surprise was swallowed in the earth-shaking roar that followed. The winded mare only shook harder. Could they survive this nightmare? Then through the rain-drenched night a huge black object hurtled up, rearing as it just missed her. Emelin screamed. The monster swung around. Wet black tentacles wrapped around her, dragged her off the exhausted mare. She tried to struggle, but the iron hold wouldn’t allow it. At last her feet touched ground, and the tentacles embraced her until she couldn’t breathe. It took a moment for the roar to dissolve into understandable words. “Are you hurt? Are you hurt? Tell me if you’re hurt.” Silverhawk. Her arms flew around his waist and she nodded against his soaked tunic. Thank God, thank God. She was safe. BLURB: He’s everything a proper lady should never want; she’s everything a bastard mercenary can never have. Sir Giles has come to England to kill his father, who seduced and betrayed his mother. First, however, he’ll seek sweet revenge—kidnap the old lord’s new betrothed. But when Giles uncovers a plot against King Richard, he faces a dilemma: take the lady or track the traitors. What’s a good mercenary to do? Both, of course. Lady Emelin has had enough. Abandoned in a convent by her brother, she finally has a chance for home and family. Yet now she’s been abducted. Her kidnapper may be the image of her dream knight, but she won’t allow him to spoil this betrothal. Her only solution: escape Rescuing the intrepid lady—while hunting traitors—is a challenge Giles couldn’t anticipate. But the greatest challenge to Giles and Emelin is the fire blazing between them. For he’s everything a proper lady should never want, and she’s everything a bastard mercenary can never have. Buy Link: https://www.amazon.com/Silverhawk-Barbara-Bettis-ebook/dp/B015QIK9CE?ie=UTF8&keywords=silverhawk&qid=1464742126&ref_=sr_1_1&sr=8-1 |
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