Romance By Catherine: Beth Trissel
Showing posts with label Beth Trissel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Beth Trissel. Show all posts

Thursday, November 8, 2012

Welcome my friend Beth Trissel

Please make welcome my friend and fellow writer, Beth Trissel.

Beth is celebrating her new release and wanted to share some of her joy with all of us. And might I start off with a big thumbs up on this cover. It's lovely!

Welcome, Beth!


Thanks for having me on your lovely blog, Catherine, to share my new historical romance novel, Kira, Daughter of the Moon. The third in my colonial frontier series, the story follows award-winning novels Through the Fire and Red Bird’s Song. Though written to stand alone, Kira, Daughter of the Moon is the long-awaited sequel to Through the Fire and features strong secondary characters introduced in that novel, with the addition of the very unique heroine, Kira, and other characters. The story builds on the conflict between Scots-Irish settlers, the Shawnee Indians, and British mandates regarding the return of white captives depicted in Red Bird’s Song. But back to ‘Kira.’

Can a beautiful Scots-Irish healer suspected of witchcraft and a renegade white warrior find love together and avoid the hangman’s noose in the Virginia Colonial frontier?

It’s a tough match with the terror of the French and Indian War still fresh in Kira’s mind, and a badass enemy and his cronies after Logan. That Logan’s old nemesis also desires Kira only makes matters that much more complicated.  But if any man is equal to the challenge, it’s Logan, and Kira has a few secret weapons of her own.



Blurb:
Logan McCutcheon returns to colonial Virginia after seven years in the hands of Shawnee Indians. But was he really a captive, as everybody thinks? He looks and fights like a warrior, and seems eager to return to those he calls friends and family.
Kira McClure has waited for Logan all those years, passing herself off as odd to keep suitors at bay––and anyone else from getting too close.  Now that he's back, he seems to be the only person capable of protecting her from the advances of Josiah Campbell and accusations of witchcraft.  And to defend the settlers against a well-organized band of murderous thieves.


Excerpt:
    “My secret in exchange for yours.”
     Tantalizing.  He was drawing her into his snare, but she couldn’t resist asking, “How do you know I’ve a secret?”
    “To begin with, you’re hiding in a tree.  What from, a wild beast?”
    “Near enough.  You.”
     He smiled.  “Was I to think you a large red bird, or overlook you entirely?”
     Drawing her remaining shreds of dignity around her like a mantle, she said, “This isn’t one of my best hiding places.”
     “Indeed?  Where are the others?” 
     “That would be telling.” 
     The strengthening breeze tossed the branches around them as he considered.  “You never could keep secrets from me, Cricket.  I’ll discover them and you.”
     An assertion she found both disturbing and oddly heartening.
     His lips curved as if the deed were already done.  “Why were you hiding?  Am I so very frightening?”
     “Oh––I feared you were some sort of warrior.”
     The humor faded from his eyes.  “I am.”

About Beth Trissel: Married to my high school sweetheart, I live on a farm in the Shenandoah Valley of Virginia surrounded by my children, grandbabies, and assorted animals. An avid gardener, my love of herbs and heirloom plants figures into my work. The rich history of Virginia, the Native Americans and the people who journeyed here from far beyond her borders are at the heart of my inspiration. In addition to American settings, I also write historical and time travel romances set in the British Isles. For more on me, my blog is the happening place: One Writer’s Way
Kira, Daughter of the Moon is available in print and kindle at Amazon, in print and various eBook formats at The Wild Rose Press, and from other online booksellers.





Tuesday, November 15, 2011

Please Welcome Beth Trissel

Please Welcome Award Winning, Beth Trissel

Today she's going to talk a little about the importance of dreams and how a dream can become a book. She is graciously giving away a copy of her latest release to one lucky winner. All you have to do is leave a comment below to be entered to win. If you tweet about this post, and tell us about it, we'll enter your name in twice to the drawing.

Take it away, Beth...

Years ago I had a dream on New Year’s Eve, a highly propitious time for dreamsand the second instance when one on that particular eve led to my writing a story.  The first book resulting from this source of inspiration was historical romance novel Red Bird’s Song.  The second instance eventually evolved into myrecent release, vintage American Christmas ghost story romance Somewhere the Bells Ring.  The dream that inspired this story took place in the beautiful Virginia home place where my father grew up and I often visited over the years, a graciousGeorgian style brick home, circa 1816.

In my dream a young lady dressed in a long gown for a holiday party entered the room without a name.  All the rooms in this big old house have names except for this one.  Instead of the room appearing as it did in my day, it had transformed into an old-fashioned gentleman’s bedchamber with a fireplace, bookshelves lined with leather-bound volumes, high-backed armchairs, and an antiquated bed. I later learned from my father that this is much how that room used to be in his grandfather’s time.  But I didn’t consciously know that.

In the room, slumped on his knees before the crackling hearth, was a handsome dark-haired young gentleman attired in a suit that struck me as early 20th century style, but what impacted me most about him was his sadness.  The young woman, a guest in the house and in far better spirits than he, had unwittingly intruded on his grief. aIn her hands she held a dusty champagne bottle with a note affixed to it, seemingly left for him by his late wife.  The newcomer had discovered it tucked among bottles in the wine cellar and thought it might cheer him.  It didn’t—at least, not at first.  But he read the note and took some comfort from that.  If I tell you what the missive said I might spoil the story so I won’t.  But his profound grief, the note, andthe vividness of this dream, affected me so deeply I pondered what story might come of it for a very long time before undertaking the writing of Somewhere the Bells Ring.

The other greatest influence on this story is my nostalgia for the late 1960’sand fond memories of Christmas’s spentin that home.  The story is set there in 1968 with flashbacks to an even earlier era, 1918 and the end of World War 1.  As to the ghost, well, I always wondered if that house was haunted.


Blurb:

Caught with pot in her dorm room, Bailey Randolph is exiled to a relative's ancestral home in Virginia to straighten herself out. Banishment to Maple Hill is dismal, until a ghost appears requesting her help. Bailey is frightened but intrigued. Then her girlhood crush, Eric Burke, arrives and suddenly Maple Hill isn't so bad.



To Eric, wounded in Vietnam, his military career shattered, this homecoming feels no less like exile. But when he finds Bailey at Maple Hill, her fairy-like beauty gives him reason to hope––until she tells him about the ghost haunting the house. Then he wonders if her one experiment with pot has made her crazy.

As Bailey and Eric draw closer, he agrees to help her find a long-forgotten Christmas gift the ghost wants. But will the magic of Christmas be enough to make Eric believe––in Bailey and the ghost––before the Christmas bells ring?



Excerpt:


“Bailey.” He spoke softly, so as not to startle her.


She turned toward him. In her long, white nightgown, hair tumbled down around her, wearing that lost look, she bore an unnerving resemblance to the mysterious woman in Wilkie Collins’ classic mystery, The Woman in White. Eric fervently hoped the similarity ended there. As he recalled from the novel, that unfortunate lady had been unhinged.


Leaving the door ajar, he stepped inside. “We missed you at breakfast.”


She answered distractedly. “I wasn’t hungry.”


He limped to where she stood, the hitch in his leg a little less pronounced today. Maybe he was getting stronger. “Why are you here, looking for ghosts?”


“Or a door to the past.”


He tried to coax a smile to her trembling lips. “Did you check inside the wardrobe?”


“Eric, I’m being serious.”


“That’s what worries me.” Leaning on his cane with one arm, he closed his other around her shoulders and drew her against him. Such a natural act, and she accepted his embrace without pulling back. She smelled of flowers from her perfume and wood smoke. “Mercy, child,” he said in his best imitation of Ella, “it’s as cold as a tomb in here.”


“It wasn’t last night.”~





Somewhere the Bells Ring is available in various eBook formats at The Wild Rose Press,Amazon Kindle, Barnes & Noble’s Nookbook, and other online booksellers.

Follow Beth on
Twitter
Facebook
or check out her website