New Release! A Pot of Glimmer

A Pot of Glimmer, Book Three in the Glimmer Series, is now available in both Print and eBook. As with the first two books in the series, Glancing Through the Glimmer and Autumn Glimmer, the story is set in Ireland and features Ireland's mischievous fairies. Adventure for Young Adults of All Ages!

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A leprechaun’s feud with a Viking ghoul puts Janet and Liam in deadly danger…

 Ireland, January 1014 - Fledgling leprechaun Awley O'Hay leads a raid on a Dublin mint. The mission: steal a shipment of coins to aid the High King, Brian Boru, in his war against the Vikings. Awley and his team plan the heist with commando precision, but they hit a glitch and only escape a bloodthirsty mob with the help of Hazel, the uncommon sister of one of the leprechauns. Yet the money master's vengeful ghost troubles Awley for centuries. So do Awley's forbidden feelings for Hazel.

Ireland, July 2015 - Janet Gleason has had her fill of fairies. They've not only plagued the American teen since she arrived in Dublin, they've also damaged her romance with her gallant friend, Prince Liam Boru. When Janet's grandfather, the U.S. Ambassador to Ireland, throws a Fourth of July celebration, Liam reluctantly attends with the rest of the royal family.

Also attending are several uninvited guests. A fairy witch named Becula arrives with Hazel, her clever and quirky protégée, to beg a favor of Janet. The unplanned appearance of Awley O'Hay and his leprechaun pals triggers a chilling visit from Awley's ancient enemy, now an undead monster hungry for human flesh.

Liam and Janet fall into a nightmare that tests their courage in ways they never imagined. Nor did they imagine that real leprechauns are nothing like the "little men" of Irish lore.

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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.

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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."

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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.

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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?"

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Thanks for reading!
Pat

Talty and Gayth: Before the Battle of Clontarf

An Excerpt from A Band of Roses:
Book One in the Band of Roses Trilogy...

In A Band of Roses, the descendants of High King Brian Boru have ruled Ireland for centuries. Modern day Princess Talty wishes she were anyone but the heir to her father's throne, and she soon learns to be careful what she wishes for. In this excerpt, Talty is visiting ancient Ireland in 1014 A.D. as part of a military mission with her commanding officer, Colonel Richard Gale.

Richard doesn't know that Talty is the King of Ireland's daughter. He knows her as competent Major Christy McKenna. They've met a lady named Leesha whose handsome son, Gayth, has his eye on Talty. Afraid that Talty is a fairy woman planning to steal a husband back to the Otherworld, Leesha tells her son that their lovely young visitor is a holy woman. In this scene, Gayth is leading his Dalcassian clan to join King Brian in his fight against the Vikings, but Gayth has more than warfare on his mind.

EXCERPT:
For three rainy days the Dalcassians rode two hundred strong. They made cold camps and ate what food they carried with them.

The men had balked at bringing a woman along until Gayth described the holy woman’s warrior skills. Still, Talty sensed their disapproving glares. She and Richard kept to themselves.

On the third day, Gayth called a stop to rest and forage for fresh provisions. Talty and Richard tethered their horses and made their separate camp. While Richard prepared a fire pit, Talty rummaged for dry wood beneath the shrubbery.

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

"So am I. Nick is missing a fine old time, isn’t he?" Richard poked through his toolkit until he found the waterproof matchbox. When the fire was burning well, he invited the others to come and light their torches from the holy woman’s fire. The exhausted men came, muttered vague thanks, and returned to the main camp.

At last the rain stopped. Clouds gave way to twilight. Talty and Richard plopped beside their crackling fire and finished the last of their oatcakes and ale.

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

Talty winced. She regretted her participation in Leesha’s 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’s reaction to the scars on her chest said otherwise. Talty sighed and set their bags near the fire to dry. She fretted over the leather sack Brother Marcan had entrusted to her.

See that one of the healers gets the bag, Christy. It contains all I could spare from my physic garden and my drying shed.

Marcan had described the contents of the various pouches: yarrow, sorrel, St. Patrick’s leaf, comfrey root, and even fungus dust to keep wounds from festering. Cobwebs to staunch bleeding and prevent inflammation, hare pelts for dressings, linen strips and cobblers’ wax to hold them in place. Jars of honey and salt for infection, bees’ wax and mutton fat for burns.

The clay jars would be fine in the dampest weather. The herbs worried Talty, though when she checked them she found that the leather bag had protected them well.

Gayth stepped from the darkness. Both pleased and annoyed, Talty tied the bag up tight.

"Hello, Gayth," Richard said with an irritating smile. "All’s well, I trust."

"Yes. My kinsmen are grateful for your fire. The furze was too wet to burn. They invite you to join them in a game of spear fishing, Richard. There’s salmon in a nearby stream, 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 may 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 phosphorescent twilight revealed animal tracks in the 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?"

She ignored him. "Do we have time to roast meat?"

"The men must eat. Once we’ve rested and filled our sacks with fresh stores of food, we’ll ride again. We should reach Dublin in three, maybe four days’ time."

Talty stopped. "What day is this?"

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

Again, she ignored him. They could be in Dublin by Good Friday, though that would be cutting it close. Still, the Battle of Clontarf might not take place on Good Friday in this world. Perhaps no battle would happen here at all.
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?"

Talty returned to the fire and banked the embers.

Gayth was right beside her.

She retrieved the Viking bow and 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."

His smile flustered her. "Yes, I know. To pray. I promise to be quiet."

They stood together in the natural blind and watched the water’s edge. Talty 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 damp wool and 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 dim light that hid her burning cheeks. Then she nudged him away. The deer wouldn’t tarry long.

Kiyoshi’s words flooded back to her: Don’t try to hit the target with the arrow. 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 strange whoosh of the arrow had alarmed them, however. They scattered into the forest.

Pleased with her success, Talty lowered her bow. The kiss lingering 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." He ran a knuckle over her breast.

She slapped his hand away. "Help me get the meat back to camp."

She left him smiling in the trees.

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A Band of 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?