Showing posts with label myths. Show all posts
Showing posts with label myths. Show all posts

Sunday, May 6, 2012

THE CURSE OF THE LOST ISLE now has two books - by Vijaya Schartz

From history shrouded in myths, emerges a family of immortal Celtic Ladies, who roam the medieval world in search of salvation from a curse. For centuries, imbued with hereditary gifts, they hide their deadly secret... but if the Church ever suspects what they really are, they will be hunted, tortured, and burned at the stake.

PRINCESS OF BRETAGNE:

806 AD - Alba (Ancient Scotland) -
As the Vikings raid the coast of Alba, Pressine of Bretagne sets out to seduce King Elinas of Dumfries, chosen by the Goddess to unite the tribes against the foreign invader. Elinas, still mourning his departed queen, has no intention to remarry. Head-strong and independent, Pressine does not expect to fall for the very attractive, wise and noble ruler... Furthermore, her Pagan nature clashes with the religious fanaticism of the king’s Christian heir, who suspects her unholy ancestry and will stop at nothing to get rid of her.


810 AD - Alba (Ancient Scotland) - Queen at last, Pressine brings victory to her beloved Elinas and prosperity to their growing kingdom. But she has to contend with the intrigues of Charlemagne's bishops, spurred by her Christian stepson. While Elinas, on the battlefield, remains unaware of his son’s machinations, Pressine fends off repeated assaults against her life. She also fears the curse that could bring her downfall. For the love of Elinas, she will tempt fate and become with child. But when her indomitable passion challenges the wrath of the Goddess Herself... can she win that battle?

Although each novel can be read separately, both novels feature the same hero and heroine a few years apart and should be read back to back. Originally they were supposed to be one very long book, but it was way too much for one volume, so it was decided to make it two separate novels. The next novels in this series will skip generations and involve different main characters.

Vijaya also writes medieval and romantic science fiction series, like The Chronicles of Kassouk and the Ancient Enemy series and the Archangel twin books, Crusader and Checkmate.

Find all Vijaya's other books in Amazon kindle HERE

Monday, May 2, 2011

Dancing with Fate - Excerpt #4

This is from one of the earlier chapters of the story, before Terpsichore and Myrddin meet, when she believes her mission is over - when really it is just about to begin!


I'll draw a winner from everyone who comments on my posts at the party! (Please leave your email address or a means of contact if you wish to be included)


How long had it been since she was last in this place? On Olympus, time meant little to a god, but in the land of mortals it was different. Terpsichore took a deep breath of the fresh mountain air and looked around. The grass seemed a little greener, the leaves on the trees darker, thicker. The season was drawing on toward summer. She studied the sky, the color of the bluebells which had carpeted the clearing when she first arrived, now replaced by blossoms of many different hues. A few wisps of cloud drifted lazily across and the air shimmered, warm and still.

Terpsichore was content. She'd travelled the length of Cymru and inspired men and women to dance again. Whenever she came across a receptive individual, she'd given her gift and they in turn encouraged others to dance. The shadows of war had lifted for a while, and once more, the land was filled with music and the delight of movement. She'd finished her task. Of course, the time would come when Cymru would again need to rise up against her oppressors and the hills would echo with the sound of fighting. Wales, land of song, would once more know sorrow. However, Terpsichore had chosen those she inspired with care. The music of Wales would not die again. This time, they would not let her down. The joy of the dance would remain whatever befell these people. Her mission completed, she could return to Olympus.

The sound of the waterfall behind her caught her attention. Oh, how she missed the spring of Hippocrene, created when Pegasus struck the rock of the Helicon Mountain with his hoof and the crystal water poured forth. Beautiful as this country was, it would be good to be home. She turned and gazed at the water tumbling down the mountainside in a frenzy of white froth, the spray catching the rays cast by Helios, making rainbows dance in the clear air. The water called to her—she was, after all, like her sisters, a water nymph. She longed to immerse herself in its cooling spray, to be as one with the living water.

"What harm can it do? Cleanse yourself—rid your body of the dust of Earth before returning to Olympus. "

The voice in her mind was all too familiar. "Dionysus! What are you doing here? Get out of my mind"
"Certainly, dear sister, would you prefer me to materialize in all my glory?"

Before she could answer, he appeared, seated upon a rock, his ever-present maenads fawning at his feet.

He held out a goblet of wine. "You seem in poor spirits, sister. Have a drink; it will put you in a better humor."
"My humor’s  fine, Dionysus. I'm about to go home. I don't need any of your wine." She turned her head away from the sight of the maenads drunkenly running their hands over his body.

All at once, the purity of the day seemed tainted. How had he found her? Was it he who had eavesdropped upon her conversation with Apollo? She sighed. Somehow, she did not think so. Dionysus in his state of permanent intoxication could hardly have moved so stealthily, nor concealed his retinue of women followers.
Dionysus hiccupped loudly, causing the vines around his neck to bounce and rustle.

Again, he held out the goblet of wine. "Oh, we are 'Miss Prim and Proper' today, aren't we? Go on, lighten up, take a sip, it won't hurt you." He learned toward her, his handsome, if somewhat effeminate features wearing an innocent expression that belied the glint in his blue eyes. "After all, you wouldn't want to upset your brother, would you?"

Terpsichore refrained from commenting that he was, in fact, only one of her many half-brothers. She pursed her lips, reached for the goblet and took a small sip, before handing it back. It did not do to offend the god. She recalled that despite his affable manner, he had a dark side and it was better not rub him up the wrong way. "Thank you. Now, I really must be leaving."

His smile was more of a smirk. "All right, I can take a hint. If I were you, I'd have a good long soak in that pool before you go. Go on, you know you want to."

He lurched unsteadily to his feet, causing one of his Maenads to loose her hold on him, and fall over, giggling. He grabbed her arm and moments later they all disappeared like mist in the heat of a summer's day.
To Hades with her demented half-brother.  She pursed her lips. The more she thought about it, the more the allure of the water drew her to it. She should never have taken that wine—not even a sip. Who knew what enchantment he'd put in it?

She shrugged. What was she thinking? She was her own goddess, wasn't she? If she wanted to bathe, she would. She certainly didn't need any charmed wine to make her decisions for her. In an instant, her Celtic clothing melted away.




You can enjoy a 25% discount if you purchase my book today or tomorrow, by quoting Code  QK76J


Dancing With Fate - Romantic Fantasy

Good Morning everyone. First of all I would like to thank Judy and Marianne for hosting the Goddess Fish Release Party, and for inviting me to be here. I hope everyone has a wonderful day.

A bit about me:  I'm a Welsh writer currently living in a small village in England.  I love the outdoors, all animals, especially horses, and write Fantasy and Futuristic Romance, with a 'sweet to spicy' rating.

I have just re-released my fantasy 'Dancing With Fate' through Smashwords.  The  novella was originally published by The Wild Rose Press as part of their 'Song Of The Muses' series.  The landscape and legends of my native Wales helped inspire the story, although I needed to do quite a lot of research into Greek mythology as well.  I featured two of my horses, Hari and Sal in the story.


 Here's the blurb:

When Terpsichore, the Greek Muse of Dance, is assigned to revisit 5th Century Wales, and help the people regain their love of dancing, her task seems simple enough. She is unaware there is a hidden agenda. Before she can return to Olympus her path crosses that of the mysterious Myrddin, and her heart is lost.

But Myrddin is promised to another. His mind is set on the dangerous task that lies before him, and the woman he has sworn to save. Nevertheless, he cannot deny the growing attraction between him and the beautiful stranger he meets along the way.

Terpsichore and Myrddin face a deadly force that threatens to part them forever. Is she destined to lose the only man she has ever truly loved? Is there nothing she can do to save him? Finally, when all seems lost, in desperation she finds herself DANCING WITH FATE.


Excerpt:

She was the loveliest woman Myrddin had ever seen. Spellbound, he watched her step from the falls. He should have turned away but he found it impossible not to watch her as she dried herself. When she started to dance, he was captivated by her grace and the eloquence of her movements. 

She seemed unconcerned about her nakedness. Not that she had anything to be ashamed of; such exquisite beauty should not be covered. Long, dark red-brown hair fell like a veil of silk to below her knees. Her skin was smooth and flawless; her breasts were firm and high, full but not heavy, above a tiny waist.  Her rounded hips undulated sensuously in time to her singing, while her upper body remained perfectly still, apart from the expressive movements of her arms. Her legs were slim and very long and she moved on tiptoe, her small feet scarcely seeming to touch the ground. Between her fingers, she held a long piece of silky material, which she swirled around her, until it seemed almost like a living thing.

Myrddin watched, enthralled. He'd never known anyone to dance as she did. The way she swivelled her hips had him mesmerised. Her voice was soft and clear, with a haunting quality. It reminded him of the musical bells of Maes Gwyddno, the civilization that now lay drowned beneath the sea. At times of danger, if one listened hard enough, one could hear the bells ringing from beneath the waves. Moreover, it may have been a trick of the light, but she seemed to radiate a soft glow, pure and shimmering. He shook his head in disbelief. He must be imagining it. He'd eaten nothing since dawn, this was surely a vision brought on by weakness from hunger.
Myrddin crept closer and a twig cracked underfoot. Before he could take cover, the beautiful dancer stood motionless. Her eyes, green as the depths of the ocean, looked directly into his.


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--so leave a comment and be entered to win!

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