Happy Medieval Monday! This week, I'm pleased to announce the publication of Tremors Through Time. It's been quite a journey, first writing the story, self-publishing, and then the story being picked up by The Wild Rose Press. It's been fun, challenging, emotional, wonderful. And now, I'm well on my way to finishing Book Two in the series! FYI, there will be four books.
I thought I would share a small excerpt from Tremor Through Time for a dual celebration: the book release and Medieval Monday!
“My job.” He shrugged. “I like it well enough, I suppose. As they say, it pays the bills. It’s very different from anything I’ve done before. Do you like yours?”
“I love my job, but I know that I’m one of the lucky ones.”
“Tell me, please, your job title again? Joe kept talking about it the last time he was home.”
Deidre laughed. “He did seem surprisingly interested when we talked about it. I’m Director of Medieval Studies at the University of Houston.”
Medieval studies…Lachlann struggled for words. He knew what “medieval” meant. If he had one question, he had a thousand. Simple ones would have to do for now.
“What do you like about it?”
“There’s so much,” she replied. “The ongoing learning, the students…I love teaching.”
“Why did you choose medieval studies?”
Deidre opened her mouth as if to speak, then closed it again. Glancing down at her plate, she pushed around a carrot. “I…I’ve been interested in medieval artwork and history since I was a little girl. It’s always fascinated me.”
“I…” She paused again, her brow knit, her soft lips twisting a little as she searched for words. “Life was so different back then,” she finally said. “People were different, and yet they were still human.”
Lachlann blinked. “Well, of course they were human!”
She put a hand up. “Now, hear me out. For all intents and purposes, they lived in a different world from ours. Almost everything they knew was different from what we know. Agreed?”
“But their humanity was no different from ours. They had the same emotions, the same feelings, the same basic needs.”
“How do you know how they felt?”
“They left us art, music, writing, and so much more.”
“But their languages were different. How did anyone ever learn to read their writings?”
“Languages changed slowly,” she explained, “and one translation led to another.”
“But if a group of people died at once, their language would have died with them. Isn’t that true? So would their history.”
“That would be true in some cases, but not all. Is there a particular language or culture you have in mind?”
Lachlann hesitated, sorting his thoughts, still trying to get past her “yet they were human” remark. What had happened to his own language? Should he mention it? Could it hurt?
“Have you heard of Norroena?”
“Norroena.” Her eyes widened. Clasping her hands together, she leaned toward him. “Lachlann, are you talking about Norn?”
“The language of the islands, of Orkney and Shetland.”
“Aye, that’s the one.” He tried not to show his excitement. She knew of it!
“But the people didn’t all die at once. I believe Norn was spoken well into the sixteenth century.”
“Yes, it was.”
He thought that over for a moment. “It still died out. But it was spoken on the mainland as well as the islands, wasn’t it?”
“Yes, it was.” She smiled at him. “It was spoken in Caithness. You know your history.”
She was silent for a moment, that thoughtful little frown forming between her eyes, and then she shook her head. “I haven’t seen evidence that it was spoken anywhere else.”
But it had been, damn it.
“If it’s any consolation,” she continued, “Norn lasted longer than many other ancient languages. What’s sad is that we’re not sure how it sounded, and there are very few examples of written Norn.”
He couldn’t help her with the written part, but he’d love to surprise her, to speak his language to her.
“That’s why history is so important.” Deidre’s voice drifted off.
“Why?” he asked, glad he had caught that last sentence.
“So that we won’t forget.”
He felt the familiar constriction in his chest. “You’re saying that if the history is lost or no one cares about it, everything happened for nothing.”
She looked shocked. “That is most certainly not what I’m saying. It’s not true!”
“It isn’t! Nothing is ever really lost.”
He sat back, folded his arms, and forced himself to speak calmly. “I disagree.”
I hope you enjoyed this little peek. Tremors Through Time is available at your favorite online bookseller.
Be sure to visit the beautiful blogs of Barbara Bettis and Mary Morgan for more medieval fun!
Wishing you a wonderful Medieval Monday!
It's no secret that I prefer fat HEAs. Where better than in a beautiful romance?
From me to you with a smile.
You have successfully joined our subscriber list.