The Band of Roses Trilogy - Adventure and Romance in Ireland

April 23, 2014 marks the 1000-year anniversary of Ireland's bloody Battle of Clontarf. On Good Friday in 1014 A.D., the armies of High King Brian Boru challenged a host of Vikings and their allies on the plains of Clontarf, north of Dublin. Though Brian’s troops were victorious, he was murdered by fleeing Vikings as he prayed in his tent.

Many historians have speculated that Ireland would be a different place today if King Brian had survived the Battle of Clontarf. The Band of Roses Trilogy, a romantic action/adventure series set in modern Ireland, supposes he did survive and established a royal dynasty that still rules the Emerald Isle. The current King Brian upholds ancient traditions, as does his daughter, Crown Princess Talty, though Talty has a knack for landing in trouble. She wishes she were anyone but the heir to her father's throne—and she learns to be careful what she wishes for.

In Book One, A Band of Roses, Talty must hide her identity to outwit assassins, but she can't hide her ingrained training as a warrior sworn to protect her homeland. From Japan to California to an eleventh century Ireland, she finds romance and adventure, yet all she wants is to return to her family and Neil Boru, the adoptive cousin she secretly loves and cannot have—or so she thinks.

In the second book, Fiery Roses, the discovery of offshore gas ensnares the Boru clan in a web of blackmail and murder. When the residents of rural County Mayo object to pipelines on their land, an arsonist tries to change their minds. One of his fires sends newlyweds Talty and Neil to an ancient world at the mercy of a waking volcano, where they must fight not only to survive, but to save their fledgling marriage.

Book Three, Salty Roses, finds the dynamic princess believing her days of adventure are over. Her royal duties seem endless, and a day off with Neil is looking good. The royal couple accepts an invitation for a jaunt aboard a luxury submarine. As they view an eerie shipwreck, an unknown enemy lures them to an ancient tomb and sends them to a world infested with treacherous pirates. Talty takes charge of a pirate ship and its mangy crew, while Neil matches wits with a temptress who jeopardizes his wedding vows.

In this Excerpt from A Band of Roses, a military assignment teams Talty with her 'Veddy' English commanding officer, Richard Gale, who knows her as Major Christy McKenna. In an experiment gone wrong, they arrive in our world in 1014 A.D., just before the Battle of Clontarf. They've met a lady named Leesha, whose handsome son Gayth has his eye on Talty. In this scene, Gayth is leading his Dalcassian clan to aid King Brian in his fight against the Vikings—but Gayth has more than warfare on his mind.

* * * * *

For three rainy days, the Dalcassians rode two hundred strong. On the third day, Gayth called a stop to rest. Talty and Richard tethered their horses and made their separate camp. While Richard prepared a fire pit, Talty rummaged beneath the shrubbery to find dry wood.

“Can’t we cheat and use matches, Richard? I’m tired of being cold and wet.”

“So am I.” Richard poked through his toolkit until he found the waterproof matchbox. When the fire was burning well, they finished the last of their oatcakes and ale.

“So here I am, the protector of a holy woman. Who knew?”

Talty winced. She regretted agreeing to the deception. Gayth had told the men her presence would protect them. “I wish Leesha hadn’t started this. I’m not some saint who can heal battle wounds with a touch.”

“They don’t know that, darling. We have an edge as long as they think you’re no ordinary woman. Why did she say that, anyway?”

“She was afraid I’d spirit Gayth away to fairyland. She needn’t have worried, though. He seems able to resist me just fine.”

“Perhaps you married too young to learn how devious men can be. Our friend Gayth isn’t finished with you, holy woman.”

Gayth stepped from the darkness. “My kinsmen are grateful for your fire. The furze is too wet to burn. They invite you to join them in a game of spear fishing, Richard. There’s salmon nearby, and we need the food as well as the sport.”

“I’m reluctant to leave Christy alone.”

Talty bristled at Richard’s protectiveness. “You should get to know the men. I’ll be safe enough at my prayers.”

Gayth’s chocolate eyes sparkled in the firelight. “I will stay and protect you while you pray.”

Still smiling, Richard found a spear and went off to fish. Though Talty had encouraged him to go, his abandonment annoyed her. “I’m going to pray beside the pond. It could be a watering hole for game.”

“You hunt game, holy woman?”

“Even holy women must eat.” She left him by the fire and was soon scanning the ground at the edge of the pond. The twilight’s glow revealed animal tracks in the rain-damp soil. She walked toward a dense stand of trees, not quite sorry that Gayth and his sparkling eyes had caught up.

“Did you see any tracks?” he asked.

“Yes. Deer, I think. Smaller game as well, and I’m sure I heard waterfowl a while ago.”

“I like roast goose. Can you pray for some?”

Silently groaning, she studied the sky. “Do we have time to roast meat?”

“The men must eat. Once we’ve rested and refilled our food sacks, we’ll ride again. We should reach Dublin in three, maybe four days’ time.”

“What day is this?”

“Monday of Holy Week. What holy woman wouldn’t know that?”

Barely aware of his teasing tone, she supposed they could reach Dublin by Good Friday, though that would be cutting it close. Yet in this world, the Battle of Clontarf might not take place on Good Friday. Perhaps no battle would occur at all. Perplexed, she stole into the trees.

Gayth followed her.

“This will make a fine blind.” She spoke more to herself than to Gayth.

“You intend to wait here for deer? Praying?”

Ignoring him, she returned to the fire to bank the embers and fetch the Viking bow.

Gayth was right beside her.

She slung the quiver and arrows over her shoulder. Her hooded cloak went on next to protect both her and the bow from the weather.

Her preparations seemed to mystify Gayth. “Why don’t you simply rush the herd and cast a spear when they bolt?”

“This way I’ll get the deer I want, not one who falls behind because it’s old or sick.”

“I’ll come with you.”

“I need silence.”

“Yes, I know. To pray. I promise to be quiet.”

They stood in the natural blind together and watched the water’s edge. She didn’t resist when he pulled her against him.

“Lean on me, lady,” he whispered. “Rest a little.”

He wrapped his cloak around her. She leaned against him, breathing in smoke and sweat, banishing all thought until a small herd of deer appeared to investigate the clearing. Though tempted to forget them, she broke away from Gayth and uncovered her bow. Silence was critical now.

He caught her face in his hands and kissed her well. After the briefest pause, she kissed him back, grateful for the fading light that hid her burning cheeks. Then she nudged him away. The deer wouldn’t tarry long.

Kiyoshi’s words flowed back to her: See the target as a reflection of your mind, as a mirror. Your mind will find the target.

Gayth stepped back. Talty fixed on the biggest doe in the herd. She drew without breathing, released, and held her position until the arrow pierced the doe’s side.

Shot clean through, the doe hovered over the ground for the briefest moment before collapsing in a motion so natural, the other deer failed to notice. The arrow’s strange whoosh had alarmed them, however. They scattered into the forest.

Pleased with her success, Talty lowered her bow. The kiss that lingered on her lips unexpectedly angered her. “Why are you here, Gayth? You ran from me before.”

“I ran from a holy woman. Your warrior skills bestir most unholy thoughts in me.”
* * * * *
Thanks for reading!
Pat

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(This post originally appeared on The Celtic Rose)

Away With the Fairies

“In a shady nook one moonlit night a leprechaun I spied . . .”

Thanks to my family’s love of music, I learned the poem/song, The Leprechaun, when I was knee-high to a fairy. ‘Twas on an Irish record, of course, one of many recorded by the great Irish tenor, John McCormack. (Enjoy The Leprechaun in its entirety at the end of this post.)

I knew about the teensy Tinker Bell types of fairies from stories like Peter Pan and Sleeping Beauty, but the fairies of Irish folklore were always leprechauns to me. Not so, I learned while delving into the wealth of literature depicting these elusive beings. Leprechauns belong to the class of “Solitary Fairies,” which includes cluricauns, dullahans, pookas, merrows, silkies, and banshees.

Then we have the “Trooping Fairies” who party in crystal palaces beneath the Knock Ma (See Knock Moo), the hill in County Galway said to house the palace of Finvarra, the King of the Connaught Fairies. Finvarra costars in my Young Adult novel, Glancing Through the Glimmer. We didn't meet him the day we visited Knock Ma, but the local postman assured us that he and his troop were there.

It’s no surprise that these beings and the lore surrounding them have inspired many tales over the years. Glancing Through the Glimmer incorporates alternate Irish history with the magic of the Other Crowd, and it has been a joy to research.

More than once, I’ve felt inexplicable tugs toward wonderfully inspiring articles and books. I've learned that Irish lakes provide homes for water fairies, who live in underwater palaces, such as the one featured in Autumn Glimmer, the sequel to Glancing Through the Glimmer. And the leprechauns star in A Pot of Glimmer, the third book in the Glimmer series, currently in the works.

I’ve found countless web sites devoted to fairies, faeries, fae, fay, etc. During my latest visit to Ireland, I added several volumes on the Good Folk to my personal library. The public library helped my research too, but my most successful foray was into the incredible collection of Irish books my aunts have compiled over the years (See Seeking Irish Heroines.)

Every culture has fairies, whole hierarchies of them. In Ireland they aren’t the cute little Walt Disney squeakers we all know and love. Many are human-size, and all can be downright mean if one crosses them. Hair, eyes, teeth, and toenails can all fall out if we mortals distress them. (I'm in high hopes they’ve willingly joined the cast of the Glimmer Books.)

My grandmother once said that when she was a child in County Sligo (circa 1910), her father would set out a line of stones before he erected an outbuilding on their farm. If in the morning the stones were still where he’d placed them, he knew he was good to go. If not, then the fairies had disapproved of his choice, and he had to try again. Superstitious nonsense?

I’ve visited Ireland too many times to be sure, to be sure. What do you think?

The Leprechaun

(Attributed to Robert Dwyer Joyce)

In a shady nook one moonlit night,
A leprechaun I spied

In a scarlet cap and a coat of green,
A cruiskeen* by his side.

'Twas tick, tack, tick, his hammer went
Upon a tiny shoe,

And I laughed to think of a purse of gold,
But the fairy was laughing too.

With tiptoe step and beating heart,
Quite softly I drew nigh.

There was mischief in his merry face,
A twinkle in his eye.

He hammered and sang with tiny voice
And drank his mountain dew.

And I laughed to think he was caught at last,
But the fairy was laughing too.

As quick as thought I seized the elf.
"You're fairy purse!" I cried.

"The purse," he said, "is in her hand,
The lady by your side."

I turned to look, the elf was off,
And what was I to do?

Oh, I laughed to think what a fool I'd been,
And the fairy was laughing too.

* jug

Fiery Roses - Book Two in the Band of Roses Trilogy Now in Print!

A year after making its e-debut, Fiery Roses, Book Two in the Band of Roses Trilogy, is finally available in print. I enjoyed revisiting north Mayo while I revised and updated the story, my classic "Middle Child," often overlooked but a gem in its own right.

The "Roses" books are romantic action/adventures set in a modern Ireland that might have been. The "what if" premise supposes that High King Brian Boru survived the Battle of Clontarf in 1014 AD and established a royal dynasty still in existence. As head of state, the current King Brian upholds ancient traditions, as does his daughter, Crown Princess Talty, though Talty has a knack for landing in trouble.

In the first book, A Band of Roses, Talty must hide her true identity to outwit assassins, but she can't hide her ingrained training as a warrior sworn to protect her homeland. From Japan to California to an eleventh century Ireland, she finds romance and adventure, yet all she wants is to return to her family and Neil Boru, the adoptive cousin she secretly loves and cannot have—or so she thinks.

In Fiery Roses, a major discovery of offshore gas ensnares the Boru clan in a web of blackmail and murder. When the residents of rural County Mayo object to plans to run pipelines over their pristine bogs, an arsonist tries to change their minds. One of his fires sends Talty and Neil to an ancient world beset by a waking volcano, and the residents believe she is the Goddess Pele, come to save them. As they struggle to outwit a tyrant with a shocking secret and find their way back to Ireland, King Brian locks horns with ruthless oilmen trying to bully their way over the bogs.

Fiery Roses wasn’t supposed to be a sequel. When I started writing the book, I researched arsonists and developed a character sketch of an arsonist. Meanwhile, I monitored the Irish news online, vicariously living in Ireland, the country with which I’d fallen in love during my first visit in 2004. I noted rumblings concerning plans to harvest the natural gas discovered off the northwest coast of County Mayo in 1996.   My arsonist began to merge with the cast from A Band of Roses. With the indomitable Princess Talty and her spirited kin still fresh in my mind, I wondered how the Boru clan would deal with the situation in north Mayo.

Cut Turf Drying on a Bog

My husband and I decided to visit the Mayo bogs. We passed through some scenic country, the Atlantic Ocean to our left, the Nephin Mountains to our right. The bogs might have been rolling meadows, but the blankets of green weren’t grass. They were scraw, the layer of tough fibrous sod that covered the peat, or turf, as it’s called in Ireland. Masses of white bog cotton and yellow buttercups painted the scraw. Cows and sheep roamed everywhere.

We soon saw men in hard hats working behind a chain link fence, large sections of blue pipe awaiting installation, and protesters sitting in parked cars. Surrounding them were hand-painted signs that said things like, "We are Irish citizens, not Shell subjects."

The next morning, we learned that Royal Dutch Shell had sought and obtained a court order for the arrest of five Mayo men who refused the company access to their land. The men spent ninety-four days in prison.

As I worked on Fiery Roses, a story filled with fictitious villains and heroes, I followed the Irish news, waiting for some resolution to the increasing hostility in north Mayo. I spent three years writing the book and tidying up all the imaginary plot twists. Sadly, the real situation in north Mayo remains unresolved.

* * * * *

EXCERPT from Fiery Roses - A Little Lost:
From his window seat in one of Casa Verro’s largest guest suites, Neil opened the shutters and caught the scent of the sea. Beneath him, a patchwork of planted fields and pastures stretched for mile after emerald mile. Yet the realization that the land sat on a waking volcano spoiled the idyllic scene. That and knowing the verdant panorama wasn’t Ireland.

The air currents shifted. Tantalizing whiffs of roasting pork and baking bread made his mouth water, yet they couldn’t subdue his growing dread that he’d never see Ireland again, never fly again, or zoom off in his Jaguar. His family, his friends, and his precious Talty would all be lost to him if the Peregrine Portal left him behind when it called the others home.

The fervent "Ooh!" behind him was a sound he knew well: Talty had found something to wear to the feast for the Meddiss. Neil turned his head just as Renen raised the top of a shimmering white gown over the pink-tipped breasts that perfectly fit the palms of his hands.

For over an hour, Talty had been trying on the late Danella’s gowns. Renen had come to help. Her shocked gasp when she’d first seen the scars on Talty’s chest had nearly caused Neil to send the woman away. Talty had said nothing, and Renen, a servant unaccustomed to questioning her betters, had recovered well.

"This is lovely, Renen," Talty said.

"It is the finest silk." The fussing servant pinned the shoulder straps with matching broaches.

The dress fell in graceful folds, the cloth so fine it seemed transparent. Gold threads woven through the material shimmered with Talty’s slightest move. The gathered waist flattered her slender form—too slender in her view, it seemed.

"It fits well enough," she said with a downward glance, "but the top is too big."

"Your mamms do look a little lost in there," Neil called from the window.

The women’s heads jerked. As he’d suspected, they’d forgotten he was there.

Talty raised her chin and glared. "You never seem to have any trouble finding them!"

Renen grinned at the playful repartee. "The baroness stretched the dress more, yes, but you, Lady, are well formed and lovely. We will show them. We only have to fix the pins." She gathered the material tighter and reset the broaches.

When she finished, Talty’s eyes widened, silently asking Neil’s opinion.

"You look more grippable now, darlin’." He made squeezing gestures and laughed at her openmouthed gasp. "Really, Tal, you look fine. No goddess could be more beautiful."

"This one can," said Renen. "We will add perfume and jewels, though even the baroness had no rings as fine as yours, Lady."

Talty extended her hand and gazed at the rings Neil had placed there. She smiled lovingly at him as she answered Renen. "I feel strange wearing Danella’s things, but I suppose I have no choice."

"No," Neil muttered. "The airline lost our luggage."

Renen insisted that the baroness would want her things used, not hidden away. "I am so happy to be preparing a lady again. Many times have I whitened the Lady Danella’s cheeks. You need no powder, Lady. Your skin is as white as moonlight. Some kohl for your eyes is all I will add, I think."

* * * * *

About Pat McDermott:

Boston, Massachusetts native Pat McDermott writes romantic action/adventure stories set in an Ireland that might have been. Glancing Through the Glimmer and its sequel, Autumn Glimmer, are young adult paranormal adventures featuring Ireland’s mischievous fairies. Both books are “prequels” to her popular Band of Roses Trilogy: A Band of Roses, Fiery Roses, and Salty Roses. Her first adult contemporary romance, The Rosewood Whistle, was released in June, 2013.

 

Pat is a member of the New Hampshire Writers’ Project, Romance Writers of America, and Celtic Hearts Romance Writers. Her favorite non-writing activities include cooking, hiking, reading, and traveling, especially to Ireland. She lives and writes in New Hampshire, USA.

* * * * *

To Learn More About Pat and Her Books, Visit Her

Web Site

Writing/Travel Blog (Put the Kettle On)

Cooking Blog (Kitchen Excursions)

A Perilous Pub Lunch in North Mayo

Enjoy an Excerpt from Fiery Roses, Book Two in the Band of Roses Trilogy...

Escorted by Fian guards Rory and Barry, Talty and Neil Boru stop for an unforgettable meal.
____
Outside the pub, the storm finally broke. Rain bucketed down, beating against the windowpanes. A murky air fell over the room.

The turf fire mesmerized Talty. She’d dreamed of scenes like this when she’d lived in Japan and California. "There’s nothing like a turf fire on a rainy day."

Neil fondled her hand with deliberate intimacy. "I can think of a few things."

Rory fumbled with his beer. Barry studied the old photos on the walls.

Ignoring them, Talty savored the lusty gleam in her lover’s sky-blue eyes. For someone who’d once taken great pains to hide his tender feelings, Neil flaunted them often now that they were married. She slipped her hand beneath the table and stroked his thigh.

The arrival of their food interrupted the luscious moment. The hungry travelers made short work of the tantalizing meals the waitress set down.

The young woman had just cleared the table when Barry nodded toward the door. "You have fans, Tal."

Two damp little girls who’d been among the children playing outside had come in from the rain. They stopped a few feet short of the table and stared with wide green eyes, their hands behind their backs.

The older girl was about eight, the younger no more than six. Carrot-red hair crowned both girls’ heads. The little one wore hers in a straight, sodden ponytail, while a mass of wild curls sprouted in all directions from the older child’s head. Their identical, freckled-spattered faces marked them as sisters.

Talty couldn’t help grinning. "Hello. Can we help you?"

The younger girl shoved the older toward the table. "You’re the Lady Princess," said the curly-haired miss in a barely audible voice.

"Yes, I am. I’m Talty Boru, and these gentlemen are my husband, Neil, and our friends, Barry and Rory. Who are you?"

"I’m Mary Margaret Gannon. This is my sister, Joanie."

The table was between the girls and Talty, and so she nodded instead of offering her hand. "It’s fine to meet you, Mary Margaret. You too, Joanie."

The rain stopped. Breaking sunshine chased the gloom from the pub, as if it had received some cue to spotlight the meeting.

Mary Margaret swung her hand around and held out a gorgeous, fresh-cut rose whose splendid crimson petals basked in a stray sunbeam. "We brought this for you, Lady Princess."

Gasping with delight, Talty stood and lifted the rose gently from the girl’s hand, cupping the delicate bloom in her fingers to avoid the thorns. After a quick shake to remove the glistening raindrops, she inhaled the flower’s musky fragrance. "It’s perfect! I don’t believe I’ve ever seen such a lovely rose."

The girls beamed. Talty glanced at the bar, where Mossy Burke stood beaming as well. He gave her a wink and continued wiping his barware with a linen towel.

Little Joanie made some sort of bobbing gesture. "We hope you like it, Lady Princess."

"I love it. Thank you."

With gap-toothed grins of delight, the girls turned and skipped across the floor. They skidded to a stop when a menacing figure entered the pub and blocked the entrance. Barry and Rory stiffened. Neil turned sideways to shield Talty.

The fiddle music stopped. The patrons’ heads swiveled toward the hellcat glowering over the room.

She pointed at the girls when she spotted them. "Here you are, evil little felons! I saw you from the window, cutting my prize roses! What have you to say for yourselves?"
Nothing, it seemed. The girls stood like round-eyed statues.

Talty’s hand shot to her mouth. "Oh, no! Do something, Neil!"

A grin lit Neil’s face. He pushed his chair back and said beneath his breath, "What harm can there be having lunch in a pub?" A few quick strides brought him to the girls. "They meant no harm, ma’am. I’ll gladly pay for the damage, as they took the rose for my wife."

The woman shook her fists at the girls. "I don’t care if they took it for the pope! That rose was to be judged tomorrow afternoon. I’m sure it would have won first prize. They could have had anything else in the garden, if they’d only asked. Thieves! Villains!"

Neil touched the girls’ shoulders. "You’d best apologize to the lady."

The tiniest squeak escaped from Joanie’s mouth. Mary Margaret said, "We’re very sorry, Aunt Betty. We took the best one because it was for the Lady Princess."

The woman’s eyes seemed about to pop out, as if trying to flee from her wrath. "Liars as well as thieves! Wicked heathens! We’re going straight to the church to see Father O’Malley."

Talty glared at the snickering Rory and Barry and jumped from her seat.

* * * * *

A Band of Roses / E-book Available from

MuseItUp Publishing
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Fiery Roses / E-book Available from

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Amazon Kindle U.K.

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Salty Roses / E-book Available from

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Parallel Worlds

The recent discovery of the Higgs boson, the so-called ‘God particle’, suggests the possible existence of parallel worlds. No surprise there. Storytellers have been telling tales of "Otherworlds" for thousands of years. In A Band of Roses and its sequels, Fiery Roses and Salty Roses, Irish Crown Princess Talty Boru visits a few. There’s lots more to the Band of Roses trilogy than parallel worlds, but in honor of Professor Higgs’s discovery, let’s visit one from each story with Talty.

The Ireland in which Talty lives is an Otherworld to us, a world where High King Brian Boru survived the Battle of Clontarf in 1014 A.D. and established a royal dynasty that rules Ireland to this day. A military assignment sends Talty to several different dimensions with her 'Veddy' English commanding officer, Richard Gale, who doesn’t know she’s the King of Ireland’s daughter. In a test run gone wrong, they arrive in our world in 1014 A.D., just before the Battle of Clontarf, which, in our world, claimed the life of Brian Boru.

* * * * *

Excerpt from A Band of Roses:
"Where are we?" she asked. "Will we go back soon? And where’s Nick?"

Richard’s frown worried her. "I don’t know where the bloody hell he is. Either he didn’t make it through, or he’s somewhere nearby and we’ll meet up with him later. But we should already be back. Test runs never take more than a minute. Let’s find cover and sit tight."

He pulled his commando knife from his tool kit and slid it into his boot sheath. Following his example, Talty slipped her tanto knife into her own boot. They rested in a copse of oak trees, sipping water from their canteens.

Richard soon grew restless. "It won’t matter where we are when Creek calls us back. I don’t like sitting in one place too long. Let’s see if we can make friends with the natives before dark."

They found a deer track and set out through the woodlands. Bird calls and rustling leaves were the only sounds they heard until crashing branches and stumbling footsteps announced a desperate flight through the woods. Talty dashed behind a tree, as did Richard, just before a boy of no more than fourteen emerged from the undergrowth. After a moment, Richard signaled Talty. Together they stepped from behind the trees.

The boy froze. Curly black hair framed his pale face. The torn crimson cloak that covered his shoulders tumbled to his leather-clad feet. Beneath the cloak, he wore a belted blue tunic that reached his knees. Yellow leggings completed the colorful outfit.

Richard held his hands palms out. "Can we help you, lad?"

Frightened blue eyes flashed over Richard’s fatigues. The boy didn’t seem to notice Talty. His response sounded like gibberish to her, though an instant later the words made sense.

"Please, can you? The Danmarkers have my mother! I’m afraid Brother Marcan and the others will be too late!"

"Which way?" Richard asked.

The distraught boy ran off.

"You go first, darling. I’ll take the rear."

Talty set her hands on her hips. "Don’t you think you should’ve asked how many attackers there are before you agreed to help?"

Before he could answer, she grinned and jogged after the boy.

"Bloody hell," muttered Richard behind her.

A distant babble of voices quickly grew to angry shouts. Moments later, the boy stopped, and then he crept to the edge of a glade. Talty squeezed beside him, Richard at her sleeve. She peeked through the greenery to see four men standing before a round thatched cottage, the main building of a small homestead.

Armed with swords, clad in wool and leather, they’d tucked their long hair into their weapon-laden belts. Vikings!

They weren’t the only ones shouting. From inside the cottage, a woman shrieked a rainbow of insults back at them.

"Curse all of ye! I’d send ye to the devil, but ye’d be in too good company! Death and smotherin’ on ye, and may ye die roarin’!"

"Come out, Leesha!" called one of the men. He lifted a flaming torch from a fence post and stood grinning with his flaming prize. "If you don’t, we will burn you out!"

"Come out, Leesha!" called another. "I will keep Leg-Biter in his scabbard." His companions made lewd jokes about the swords that would make a scabbard of Leesha.

"Don’t listen to them, Leesha," called the apparent leader. "We only want to talk. Come out now, or we will set the place afire!"

"Pig snouts on your children, ye miserable dogs!"

At the leader’s nod, the torch man swung his arm in ever-widening arcs.

Before Richard and Talty could stop him, the boy charged into the clearing. "No, ye filthy pagans!" He slammed into the torch wielder, who fell backward and raised his hands against the boy’s pummeling fists. The burning torch rolled harmlessly to the ground.

With roars of bawdy laughter, the other Vikings drew their swords and closed on the boy.

"The bitch will come out if we kill her pup!" one shouted.

Richard slid his knife from his boot and nodded toward the three standing Vikings. "The one on the right is yours. I’ll take the two on the left."

* * * * *

In Fiery Roses, an arsonist sends Neil, Talty, and Talty’s colleagues, Richard and Nick, to an ancient world at the mercy of a waking volcano. In this excerpt, a young boy's archery lesson turns deadly.

Excerpt from Fiery Roses:
Avoiding Neil's gaze, Talty rose to her feet. "Hulch is sleeping and I promised Kavie I'd give him a few archery tips. You old fellas have a nice rest."


She sauntered across the clearing, hips swaying, arms swinging, nothing like the trembling young woman Neil had held in his arms at the crater. She'd never admit it, but looking into the volcano had frightened her. She had needed him. Would she ever admit that?

Talty and Kavie hunkered down beside the hot springs with Kavie's quiver of arrows. A lesson on straightening the matted white feathers by holding them over steam followed. Neil dozed off to the sound of Talty's silvery voice offering confident and gentle guidance. His eyes fluttered open at her command to the boy to retrieve his arrows.

Nick lay snoring nearby, his head on an empty lunch sack. Richard crossed the clearing and informed Neil that the practice was over, and that Kavie had ventured into the underbrush to find his wayward arrows.

Trying to guess how long he'd slept, Neil watched Hulch dismantle the target. Talty stood near the woods, holding the bow and the half-full quiver, apparently waiting for Kavie. Neil rubbed his eyes, got up, and stretched.

Kavie came running from the trees, though he held no arrows. "I found baby boars!" His high-pitched voice cracked with excitement. The piglet wriggling in his arms let out a squeal of bloodcurdling terror. "Isn't he cute?"

"No!" cried Talty. "Drop it, Kavie! Drop it now!"

The worry in her voice alarmed Neil; the rapidly intensifying crashing in the woods horrified him. Behind him, the panicking horses screeched and strained at their tethers.

An enraged she-boar burst from the underbrush. Kavie released the piglet and screamed.

Neil tore across the clearing. Powered by sheer terror, he tackled Kavie to the ground, rolled with the boy in his arms, and slammed into a massive boulder beside a stand of trees.

The raging sow's momentum carried her straight ahead. She cantered to a stop and wheeled about, tossing her head and stamping her hooves.

Gasping for breath, Neil sized up the grunting, snorting nightmare. Three feet high and four feet long, she had to weigh over two hundred pounds. A mane of black bristles ran down the back of her wooly brown coat. Six inches of razor-sharp ivory curved from the base of her long black snout—and her swinging head left no doubt she knew how to slice.

The sow's tiny eyes squinted in murderous search of the culprit who had defiled her litter. Tufted tail whipping, she scented the air and shifted toward Talty.

* * * * *



In Salty Roses, Talty and company unexpectedly visit a world infested by dangerous pirates, courtesy of a man who came from a parallel world himself. In this scene, Talty and Nick have spent several days marooned on an island, and they're more than ready to leave.

Excerpt from Salty Roses:
In a fury of howling wind and rain, the storm overtook both ships. The first vessel crashed onto the reef with a thunderous impact. Bodies and cargo flew into the water. By the time Nick and I reached the trees above the beach, debris and corpses floated in the churning sea.

As lightning flashed like a strobe light, the second ship maneuvered masterfully past the reef to the shelter of the lagoon. Skiffs were lowered and rowed to the shallower water by men who jumped in and waded toward the survivors.

"Let’s help them save those people," Nick shouted, starting for the beach.

The ship’s flag unfurled in the wind, a black flag sporting a simple white circle of human skulls. Horrified, I grabbed Nick’s sleeve. "Wait, Nick. They’re not saving those people at all!"

They were slaughtering them, drowning them, hacking them with knives and swords. The murderers drove the few survivors to the beach and surrounded them.

Nick slapped his hand against a tree. "Aw, man! We need that boat!"

He’d get no argument from me. I gripped the handle of my tanto for reassurance. "Do you have your knife with you?"

* * * * *

Thanks for reading!
Pat

Salty Roses Tops Off the Band of Roses Trilogy

The trilogy that began with A Band of Roses and Fiery Roses is complete at last. Salty Roses, Book Three in the Band of Roses Trilogy, might be set in an Ireland that might have been, but it's also a delicious blend of pirates, adventure, and romance.
The Band of Roses Trilogy is a series of romantic action/adventures set in a modern Ireland that might have been. The "what if" premise supposes that High King Brian Boru survived the Battle of Clontarf in 1014 A.D. and established a royal dynasty still in existence. As head of state, the current King Brian upholds ancient traditions, as does his daughter, Crown Princess Talty, though Talty has a knack for landing in trouble.

In Book One, A Band of Roses, the indomitable princess must hide her identity to outwit assassins, but she can't hide her ingrained training as a warrior sworn to protect her homeland. From Japan to California to an eleventh century Ireland, she finds romance and adventure, yet all she wants is to return to her family and Neil Boru, the adoptive cousin she secretly loves and cannot have—or so she thinks.

In Book Two, Fiery Roses, a major discovery of offshore gas ensnares the Boru clan in a web of blackmail and murder. When the residents of rural County Mayo object to plans to run pipelines over their pristine bogs, an arsonist tries to change their minds. One of his fires sends newlyweds Talty and Neil to an ancient world at the mercy of a waking volcano. While they struggle to outwit a tyrant with a shocking secret, King Brian locks horns with ruthless oilmen. The resulting conflict proves fatal for the Boru clan, whose members once again close ranks to thwart the latest threat to the kingdom they are sworn to protect.

Book Three, Salty Roses, finds the dynamic heir to the Irish throne thinking her days of exotic adventure are all done and dusted, yet Talty's royal duties seem endless, and a day off with handsome husband Neil is looking good. Former naval officer Talty eagerly accepts an eccentric billionaire’s invitation to sail aboard his luxury submarine, but as she and Neil dive beneath the waves to view an eerie shipwreck, a sinister plot unfolds. An unknown enemy lures them to an ancient tomb and sends them to a world infested with treacherous pirates. Talty takes charge of a pirate ship and its mangy crew, while Neil matches wits with a steamy temptress who jeopardizes his wedding vows. As he and Talty fight to save their marriage, they learn that the door to parallel worlds swings both ways…

 

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Read an Excerpt from Salty Roses Here
 

Salty Roses / Available in Print and eBook
Amazon U.S.
Amazon U.K.

What If?

Some argue that “Alternative History” is more grammatically correct, but “Alternate History” has emerged as the common name for an interesting sub-genre of fantasy fiction. The “what if” asked by so many authors has produced a wealth of thought-provoking tales.

What if the Roman Empire hadn’t fallen? What if the American Revolution had failed? What if Germany had won World War II, or if Russia had reached the moon first?

In The Story of Ireland, published in 1894, historian Standish O’Grady wrote:

The kings of all our European nations came up as the result of an immense amount of fighting between small kings and between powerful families, each of which thought it had the best right to be the Royal Family . . . If Ireland had been left to herself a King of Ireland and a Royal Family of Ireland would have come up in the long run out of those wars, just as out of the wars of the Saxon nations of England the King of the English at last appeared.

What if Ireland had been left to herself?

I wondered about that long before I found Mr. O’Grady’s work in my aunts’ amazing library of Irish books. As a second generation Irish American, I will never know what it is to be truly Irish. My childhood vision of Ireland was one of magical legends and ancient kings, banshees and leprechauns, rebels and outlaw heroes. The first time I saw the real Emerald Isle, the palm trees astonished me—and that wasn’t the only jolt to my flawed concept of modern Ireland.

I longed for the Ireland I knew through song and story. My aunts had assured me our family had descended from Irish royalty, kings and queens long gone but hardly forgotten. How could such great men and women simply vanish?

What if they were still around?

In 1002 A.D., the chieftain of an obscure Irish clan rose to claim the High Kingship of Ireland. Brian Boru united Ireland’s warring tribes under one leader for the first and only time in Irish history. A scholar as well as a warrior, King Brian rebuilt churches, encouraged education, repaired roads and bridges, and roused the country to rise against the Norse invaders who had ravaged Ireland for centuries.

On Good Friday in 1014 A.D., Brian’s army challenged a host of Vikings and their allies on the plains of Clontarf. Though his troops were victorious, Brian’s son and grandson perished in the battle. Brian himself died as he prayed in his tent, murdered by fleeing Vikings who stumbled upon his camp.

Many historians have speculated that Ireland would be a different place today if Brian Boru and his heirs had survived the Battle of Clontarf. A Band of Roses presents one possible scenario.

So begins the preface of A Band of Roses, Fiery Roses, the forthcoming third book, Salty Roses, and my recently completed young adult novel, Glancing Through the Glimmer. In each of these stories, King Brian Boru survived the Battle of Clontarf and founded a dynasty that still rules modern Ireland. Along with a lovable cast of heroes and villains, the Boru clan encounters a blend of adventure, intrigue, and romance one reviewer called “a well-written and fascinating package that will appeal to a wide range of readers.”

Check them out. What if you like them?