Less than a day to the Autumnal Equinox! It begins tomorrow (Tuesday), around 9:31 a.m., EDT. And so also begins the new round of the Medieval Monday Blog Hop, #MedMonFall20. It's my first and I'm so proud and excited to be in the company of wonderful, romantic storytellers. The theme this fall is Nature, a favorite of mine. Romance and nature -- could it get any better?
Authors will share links and snippets of their work. For some truly romantic reads that will appeal to all your senses, be sure to check out #MedMonFall20.
I'll be sharing snippets of Tremors, my medieval time travel romance.
He could never lose her. In the infinite vastness of time – past, present, future, past – he wouldn’t lose her.
Love was eternal.
Lachlann had lost his entire family to the plague. He’d lost himself by falling through time. He had to go back, to return to the fourteenth century and try to save his family, save his son. But how could he leave Deidre? He needed her like he needed air. And she needed him.
Would she want him if he told her the truth about himself? Would she even believe him?
Deidre had never known a man could be as beautiful and tender as Lachlann. She wanted to erase the haunted look in his eyes, to make him as happy as he made her. She wished he would confide in her. But was she ready to confide in him? To explain how she’d lost everything – her life, her family, her self-respect – because of her own poor choices?
Why did she have the feeling she could lose it all again?
Available at Amazon.
With the nature theme in mind, I thought to share snippets of Lachlann and Deidre's day at a Christmas tree farm in the piney woods.
“You really do know how to drive a truck,” observed Lachlann from the passenger seat of his vehicle.
Deidre smiled. “I grew up on a farm, remember? I also know where we’re going and wanted to treat you to a tour. I hope you don’t mind.”
“On the contrary, I’m enjoying this.”
“It’s different from driving in Scotland, isn’t it?”
“Aye, it is.” Especially fourteenth-century Scotland. Gazing out of the window, he changed the subject. “This is beautiful land. It reminds me of Scotland.”
They were driving through a pine thicket. There were plenty of pine trees where they lived, but they weren’t surrounded by them as they were now. The terrain wasn’t mountainous or even hilly, but it was rolling and pleasant.
“I’m glad you think so,” said Deidre. “I love it out here. The Christmas tree farm is beside a lake. It’s usually very peaceful and smells heavenly.”
His heart surged...
Keep 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