I am pleased and honored to welcome author Sherrie Hansen, here to tell us about her latest novel, SEASIDE DAISY, a Wildflowers of Ireland Mystery. I’ve enjoyed Sherrie’s romantic Wildflowers of Scotland series and find it exciting that she’s now writing mysteries. Welcome, Sherrie, and thank you so much for joining us. Thank you for the opportunity to tell your readers about SEASIDE DAISY, my latest novel. SEASIDE DAISY is my first mystery, the first of my books to be set in Ireland, and my first attempt at self-publishing. That’s a lot of firsts, but thankfully, there are also some familiar things that won’t change. My mysteries will still have a good dose of romance. I think my new “brand” suits both – Explore the Mystery of Love with Author Sherrie Hansen. Some of you are familiar with my Wildflowers of Scotland novels, Wild Rose, Blue Belle, Shy Violet, Sweet William, and Golden Rod, and know that I love drawing parallels between the characters and the flowers they’re named after, weaving the characteristics of the flower into terms and images that define the people in my books. That won’t change either, so you shouldn’t be surprised to learn that my next book is a Wildflowers of Czechia mystery called PLUM TART IRIS. But that’s another story! Today, I’d like to tell you why I chose to write about Ireland and seaside daisies, formally known as erigeron glaucus. While seaside daisies may look fragile with their thin, tender-looking petals and pale colors, they’re the perfect plant for coastal zones and seaside gardening. Wind and salt spray won’t affect erigeron; in fact, these robust little plants grow well in sandy, dry soils and even prefer soil that isn’t too fertile. They thrive when dead-headed of finished flowers to encourage more blooms. Seaside daisies can be cut back at ground level to encourage new foliage. I can’t begin to describe how hard the frigid, biting winds were blowing the day my husband and I found seaside daisies growing along the battered Irish shoreline on Dingle Bay except to say, we raced to climb back into the shelter of our car as soon as we’d snapped each picture because we could hardly stand up. And we explored the Wild Atlantic Way in early June! After visiting a living history museum and starting to learn a little more about the history of the Wild Atlantic Way, then seeing a shanty that had been constructed out of wood salvaged from a shipwreck, my mind started to whirl and the plot of SEASIDE DAISY was born. Here’s a little more about SEASIDE DAISY: When Daisy Fitzpatrick discovers a treasure trove of gold in a sea cave near her Granny’s shanty on Dingle Bay, she rents out her art studio in Dingle, buys an old mansion in Killarney, and overnight, finds herself a local celebrity with a wonderful new life. But when the real owner lays claim to the gold, she loses everything, including her fickle, new friends. Can Daisy find it in herself to start over? With Cavan’s help, the sea captain’s ghost, and her granny’s quilt to point the way, the quest for more gold is soon underway. But when a priest ends up dead and a pirate takes up the search, Daisy may have to learn the hard way that gold can be a blessing, or gold can be a curse. The Wild Atlantic Way might be a hard foe to tame, but the townsfolk of Dingle soon learn that even the roar of the sea is no match for a Fitzpatrick with her mind made up. Like erigeron, my Daisy was trimmed back to ground level when she lost the gold she’d thought would solve all of her problems. Her spent blossoms were definitely pinched off. A less hardy plant may have stopped blooming, withered up and died. But like her namesake, my Daisy soon started sprouting new growth. As you’ll soon find out if you read SEASIDE DAISY, the more adversity that comes her way, the more she thrives. I hope you’ll give my new mystery a try – I’m a firm believer that God makes beautiful things out of broken pieces… it’s been a recurring theme in my life, and in the novels I’ve written. Especially now, when we’re facing the difficulties of a pandemic, I think we’re all learning that the it’s not just the delicate-looking flowers growing along the Wild Atlantic Way – or anywhere the wind blows – that have to be strong and prepared to bounce back when frustrations threaten to get the best of us. Maybe it was fitting when all of my book signings and author appearances for SEASIDE DAISY, carefully planned to coordinate with Irish-themed teas, murder mystery dinners, and other St. Patrick’s Day festivities, were all cancelled due to a certain virus. All the more reason I appreciate Anastasia’s invitation to share at “A Little Romance.” Thank you again Seaside Daisy is available on Amazon. I was asked to provide an excerpt, and would like to share a song that I wrote for SEASIDE DAISY.
“Sing the Daisy song! Please?” Scully and Siobhan clasped their hands together and prepared to do the wee Irish jig they always danced to Cavan’s song. Cavan smiled and took his baritone ukulele down from the shelf. He started to strum, and then, to sing. Where my Seaside Daisy’s shanty’s On the Wild Atlantic Way There’s a treasure at the rainbow’s end In the caves on Dingle Bay. In the caves on Dingle Bay. In early morn out on the sea, The fog gives way to sun. You can hear the seabirds singing As the waves come crashing in, As the waves come crashing in. Where my Seaside Daisy’s shanty’s On the Wild Atlantic Way There’s a treasure at the rainbow’s end In the caves on Dingle Bay. In the caves on Dingle Bay. The Captain’s ghost and Granny’s quilt Are there to point the way But the pirate’s gold and storms at sea Are turning the blue skies gray, Are turning the blue skies gray. Where my Seaside Daisy’s shanty’s On the Wild Atlantic Way There’s a treasure at the rainbow’s end In the caves on Dingle Bay. In the caves on Dingle Bay. For gold can be a blessing And gold can be a curse. But true love is the greatest gift Through better and through worse. Where my Seaside Daisy’s shanty’s On the Wild Atlantic Way There’s a treasure at the rainbow’s end In the caves on Dingle Bay. In the caves on Dingle Bay.
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A Little of This, a Little of ThatKeep me away from the wisdom that does not cry, the philosophy that does not laugh, and the greatness which does not bow before children. – Gibran Khalil Gibran Archives
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