Helen B. Henderson's Blog, page 66

Hooked on Imprisoned in Stone, Year's End, #MFRWHooks

Snippits from Imprisoned in Stone have revealed magic and jealousy, danger and rescue. Although it is a dark fantasy, there is also romance. 

To set the stage, Year's End is time for celebrating new beginnings. It is a time of parties and dances. Even in the backwoods glen of the fighting wizard, Tralin, they will celebrate. But who will be Maerva's partner? Colwynn or Gareth? And how are they dressed, she wondered? The answer to the second question follows:

Excerpt:

Maerva twisted the last ringlet of dark hair into place and pinned it into a knot at the nape of her neck. Deft movements interwove the midnight blue ribbons into place and laced up the deep jade green vest. Giving it a tug, she lifted her arms and twirled to make sure the garment did not impede her movement. The ankle-length skirt flowed in a gray shimmer reminiscent of storm-tossed waves. Tonight would be her first year-end celebration away from home as an adult, and she planned to dance the night away. For the first time, she would not have to share the evening with her cousins and older sisters. In fact, the dress she wore was the first new garment she had ever owned. Satisfied she was as ready as she would ever be, she gave one final glance in the mirror and headed downstairs to the kitchen.

Tralin looked up from the fireplace where steam escaped from a pair of covered pots. Light sparkled off the gold embroidery on the hem of her burgundy dress and the amber stone hung around her neck. “You look beautiful, my dear. Gareth and Colwynn took the rest of the food over to the barn. I checked the preparations myself. Between the linen cover on the workbench and the pillows on the bales of straw, the place looks more like a king’s hall than a home for animals.” She shrugged and gave a wry smile. “Rascal promised not to eat all the cookies before we got there.”

Maerva chortled. “He does like his treats. That one would empty the entire root cellar if we let him. Speaking of which, we had better hurry and join the others. If Rascal doesn’t eat everything in sight, Gareth and Colwynn might.” Wrapping a hot pan in toweling, she picked it up and led the way outside. Her voice lifted in a traditional carol. Tralin picked up the melody in a carefree lilt. Their frozen breaths wafted skyward in the moonlight.

True to Tralin’s description, the building they entered bore little resemblance to the stable she had cleaned out just that morning. The men were as changed as the barn.

For the past week, Maerva had wondered what colors Gareth and Colwynn would be wearing, and if her dress would complement or conflict. A single glance answered what the men refused to divulge despite her questioning. Instead of their usual rough spun shirts and leather breeches, both wore finery worthy of a royal court. Colwynn had chosen a light blue long-sleeve shirt and a deep contrasting shade of the same color for his matching pants and vest. Gareth’s clothes were hues of hunter green. Even their scuffed boots shone.

 ~ ~ ~
Four paths--one destiny. With the power to bind souls and control all magic in the balance.

Imprisoned in Stone--available at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Kobo and elsewhere. Excerpts, a free read of the first chapter, and buy links available here.

Work or Fun? #MFRWAuthor

Each Friday a group of authors write a post. Many of the prompts in the 52 weeks-52 posts challenge dare the participating authors to reveal something personal about themselves. This week's topic is "When I'm Not Writing, I..."

OK, first off, I thought the post was written only to find out at the last minutes that it wasn't. My first thought was the ways I pass what little leisure time i have. But that was covered just a few weeks ago in Creative Without Paper and a similar topic in last year's challenge.



Photography - Needlepoint - Painting - 



In accordance with the writing theme, there are blog posts to do such as for this challenge and the weekly BookHook or monthly RT Day. A portion of each day is dedicated to requesting reviews (email me if you're interested in reviewing any of the books in the page banner), sharing my posts as well as those of others on social media, keeping up with the activities of or supporting the other authors in my groups or my publisher. And let's not forget edits, tracking sales, creating promotional plans and material, and learning something new of the craft.

But to be honest the bulk of my wake time is not dedicated to fun. There is housework, cooking, laundry and laundry, and then starting over. In an earlier post a popular thing many of the participants said they'd love to do away with was doing dishes.

Supporting family is also a major activity when not writing. Sometimes the two activities are done at the same time. Supporting, helping, backing up can be as simple as sorting through and printing out their emails for them to read or making a dish for a pot luck dinner at one of their groups. There might be some fun mixed in when taking a turn as an alternate babysitter. There is the teaching to get a great-grandson ready for school or playing with all the great-grandchildren.

Then there is the  myriad of things that come with being a caregiver from vitals and medication management, weekly trips to the gym, or emergency doctor visits.

When all is said in done, in most ways it isn't that unusual a life. But the alarm is going off so it's time to start at the more work-like aspects of my life. And if I'm really, really lucky, sneaking in reading a few pages.

Leave a comment if you will. And be sure to check out the posts of the other authors who have challenged themselves to reveal their inner selves and their writing lives.

~till next time, Helen

Authors Dish: Helen Henderson’s Favorite Convention(s)

My first outing doing an Authors Dish at Coffee Time Romance. July's question was "Besides RT and RWA, what’s your favorite book convention to attend and why?" 

My answer is at Authors Dish: Helen Henderson’s Favorite Convention(s) Hope you'll stop by and see why I liked Create Something Magical. 

~till next time, Helen 

 PS while this year's convention is over, to get info on next year's, http://www.libertystatesfictionwriters.com/2018/04/02/mark-your-calendar-for-our-10th-anniversary-conference/.

Hooked on Imprisoned in Stone, Magic or Men, #MFRWHooks

In the previous weeks, excerpts focused on Maerva's introduction to magic. Now a change of focus from the dark fantasy to romance. Follows is an excerpt that introduced two of the three men in Maerva’s life.

Excerpt:

Maerva stood on the threshold of the hut while Colwynn prepared the arena. With each rune he sketched, her skin tingled from the gathering magic. The air sparkled with his power. When the torches flared to life, her body warmed as if she nestled in a bed of hot coals. She had never before felt such an attraction to a man. Was the firestorm in her veins the result of her magic calling out to his–or her womanhood responding to a magic as ancient as time?

A draft followed Gareth into the room and the chill returned Maerva to a semblance of control. Despite the ease with which he carried the canvas sack, it bulged from the weight within. He dropped it to the floor in a loud clank. His hands free, he stripped off his heavy garment and tossed it in a corner. Bowing to Tralin and Maerva he murmured, “I hope it won’t affront."

Additional waves of energy raced up Maerva’s back. But why? None of the other men of her acquaintance had ever affected her this way. Between swimming and sails on Wayward Bound, it was not as if she had not seen a man’s naked chest.

Gareth noted the way Maerva’s gaze shifted from him back to Colwynn. As he had numerous times since the mage appeared on Tralin’s doorstep, Gareth cursed his lack of powers. Maerva will be a great wizard one day. I will never be a suitable match for her. Frustration fueled the anger until it became a simmering rage.

“Gareth,” Tralin said, “are there any changes you want made to the arena?”

“No, thank you, Mistress Tralin. There is ample room to move, and the sawdust will provide good footing.”

Forcing a tight control over his emotions, Gareth laid out the weapons to be tested. A wave of his hand offered Colwynn first choice.

Colwynn made a show of selecting one of the lighter swords. “This weapon is nicely balanced.” Just the way Colwynn held the blade told a lot about the other man’s experience and training–or lack thereof.

Gareth’s lips tweaked in a smile. I might not be able to have Maerva, but I am under no compulsion to make it easy for Colwynn. Stooping down, he rose in fluid motion with a sword in his hand. He tipped the blade in salute, first to Tralin and then Colwynn. Three strides and he stood in the middle of the room. His muscles rippled from the weight of the blade as he twirled it through a series of one-handed figure eights.

All motion stopped, turning him into a grim-faced statue. Light glinted off the hilt that now hovered at shoulder height. The steel shaft pointed on a straight line to Colwynn’s head. “Your move, my friend,” Gareth said.

Colwynn rushed. His sword struck Gareth’s block. Again and again, the two men sparred. The sound of metal against metal mingled with the grunt of men. With each attack and counter, the fight grew more vicious. Gareth used his heavier weight to force Colwynn back. When the next blow landed, the flat of the blade struck bone not metal.

Maerva’s gasp cracked the control Gareth held over his anger.

Let’s see how much Maerva wants Colwynn when he’s bruised and bloodied.


Four paths--one destiny. With the power to bind souls and control all magic in the balance.

 ~ ~ ~
Imprisoned in Stone--available at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Kobo and elsewhere. Excerpts, a free read of the first chapter, and buy links available here.

If I won, I'd... #mfrwauthor

We're at week 30. Woooh hooo! Winning the lottery is not unbelievable in the abstract, even though I know it is far-fetched and will never happen. Lightning doesn't usually strike twice. And the first strike has already hit. Shortly after we moved into our house, neighbors two streets over won a multi-million dollar lottery payout.

Now if lightning did strike my house? How much largess is handed out depends on the size of the winnings. In reality, a million dollars doesn't go far these days. So for the purpose of this post, I'll assume the pot is more millions than I can spend in a lifetime--or two.

If I won the lottery I'd:

Pixabay Image. Used under creatuve commons license.

take my mother to Disney World and to the balloon festival in Albuquerque, New Mexicocreate trusts to ensure the next generation can get a higher educationif health allowed, take husband on an inn-to-inn bicycling triptake an extended vacation of Ireland, Scotland and Wales with a side trip of a river cruise through Germanyisland hop through Hawaii since money won't be an issue, I'd splurge for a photo session with the wolves at Lakota Wolf Preserve

Now for my writing, I'd buy all the hops, advertisements, and giveaways that I can't afford now. I'd need a lot of postage for when I start sending registration forms for a writers' conference in each state, and bonus ones in Canada and on a cruise.

Pixabay Image. Used under Creative Commons License.For additional inspiration for the historical western I've yet to write, I'd go to the Calgary Stampede and take a horseback glamping (glamorous camping) trip.

There's quite a few more things I'd do, but I need to keep some dreams to myself. ~till next time Helen

PS - It's a hop. I'd love for you to visit the other posts.

Hooked on Imprisoned in Stone, Trapped in a Spell, #MFRWHooks

Today is another post showcasing magic of a darker kind. Imprisoned in Stone. For the crime of healing without payment, the Brethren imprisoned Dylan’s soul in stone. When a mind touches his and hope for escape from his eternal prison soars. 

To set the scene, Maerva has been accepted as an apprentice mage and is learning her craft. Her first journeyman task is to escort a herd of magical equines called the seisag to a winter grazing ground. In last week's post, Maerva forms a magical bulwalk against the storm, but at a cost. To hold the spell, she ended up trapped in it.

Excerpt:

Tiring of the forced frivolity in the room, Gareth rose and with his mug of wine, he headed upstairs to the room provided him by Suliceen, the headmistress of Iolair Creag. Wickless lanterns cast shadows on the curving steps of the narrow staircase. The sense of unease that he had at first attributed to the howling wind grew stronger the moment he entered his room. His thoughts flickered from one person to another until they settled on Maerva. He didn’t know if it was because he was in her ancestral home or if she was in danger.

“There is one way to find out.” The sound added to his determination even as it made the room seem less empty. Stoking the fire, he lay down and turned on his side to watch the flames dance. Maerva’s image formed in the glow of the coals.

“Something is wrong,” he muttered. “My powers may not be that strong, but hers are enough to sense my call.” He tried a second, and a third time. After the fourth unsuccessful attempt to contact her, he tried a different spell. That one also hit an impervious wall.

“She is trapped in a spell,” Gareth moaned. “I can’t break through her shield.” His head throbbed with the effort that fueled his call to Fiodh. “Brother, I need your help.”

The other man’s instant response worried Gareth as much as the effortless way he submitted to his brother’s will. Their combined magic created a river of light that soared through the darkness until the loop settled around Maerva. Gareth surged forward and pushing Fiodh aside in the link took over control of the spell.

“Wake up, Maerva,” he whispered. Over and over, he repeated the call.

The tension left the magical cord. It collapsed and a moment later disintegrated into a shimmer of sparks that faded until they blended with the darkness. Maerva had returned to awareness. She was safe.

Somehow, he staggered to a chair and collapsed bonelessly into it. Confusion at the mental strength he exhibited rippled through his mind. In a game of powers, he had never beaten his brother. He wondered if it was because Maerva needed him that his magic flamed. Maybe I should meet this new apprentice of Tralin’s in person.



~ * ~

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Sitting at the Adult Table #mfrwauthor

It's Friday. Time again for the challenge. It's halfway through and I'm still posting. That's a surprise. This is another of the topics that required some thought. If you've been following the challenge, you'll remember that I can be a bit memory challenged. So what would be my favorite holiday memory?

It could be the Memorial Day honeymoon, or the repeat many years later. A third visit to the area didn't materialize this year. So that is out. It might be the Fourth of July where my great-niece was captured on camera in a great picture with her grandfather. But nope, I can't use the picture. That would not only violate copyright, but the now young woman's privacy. And it isn't really a memory.

So here it goes. It might not be the favorite holiday memory, but it is a holiday tale. When I was growing up, Thanksgiving and Christmas always meant full houses with between seventeen to twenty-one people seated around the table. Even with extra leaves in the table, not everyone fit. The solution was to bring in the picnic table and benches so there would be the "adult" table and the "children's" table. Age did not necessarily mean an automatic upgrade to adult if you were needed to assist younger children ** waves hand **, that was me. 

Later I eventually was able to sit at the adult table. That isn't the end of the story. The tale of the adult and children's table was slightly fictionalized and published as "A Place At the Table" in A Yuletide Wish .

So the memory could be being the most senior person at the children's table, graduating to the adult table, or the thrill of one of my first pieces accepted for publication.

 ~till next time, Helen

Hooked on Imprisoned in Stone, Weather Fought, #MFRWHooks

The posts still showcase magic of a darker kind, Imprisoned in Stone. For the crime of healing without payment, the Brethren imprisoned Dylan’s soul in stone. When a mind touches his and hope for escape from his eternal prison soars. 

To set the scene, Maerva has been accepted as an apprentice mage and is learning her craft. Her first journeyman task is to escort a herd of magical equines called the seisag to a winter grazing ground. In last week's post, the blizzard that had chased the herd from the mountains caught up with them.

Excerpt:

A spark of heat flared from the rock held between her palms. Maerva threw strength into her magic and the fire spread to form an orange glow that rose up her arms to encompass her entire body. The radiance expanded out in a wedge. The winds broke apart like a wave going around a headland. Closing her eyes in concentration, she held the protection. Behind her, she sensed the resting seisag, their individual auras miniature versions of the brilliant red that marked Eirean’s being.


Hour after hour, Maerva stood, a bulwark against the weather. She wavered on her feet from sheer exhaustion. Like a living thing sensing weakness, the storm pounced. The wind picked up intensity forcing her to retreat. One step led to another until she came up against an immovable object. The smell of wet hair filled her nose. Eirean!

Deep in her desperate fight to regain control, Maerva felt a reassurance... and something more. She leaned against Eirean, pulling strength from the stallion’s presence. Her trance deepened. Soon, nothing existed save the spell.

~ * ~

Buy Links: One click to ebook sellers
Paperback at Amazon / Barnes&Noble

Creative Without Paper #mfrwauthor

Many of the prompts in the 52 weeks-52 posts challenge dare the participating authors to reveal something personal about themselves. This week's topic is "Creative Outlets I Enjoy." This post is going to be short. One reason is that a post in last year's challenge was hobbies which, over the years, has been my main creative outlet. Another outlet, has been teaching. Whether museum protocols or writing craft, developing the material could be considered a creative effort.


That said, at this time and place my main creative outlet is writing. Rather than highlighting my covers (the really gorgeous ones I can't claim ownership of), or of my books (in an effort to ask for reviews), I'm going to do a photo array of some of the creative things I've done.


Photography - Needlepoint - Painting - 


Leave a comment if you will. And be sure to check out the posts of the other authors who have challenged themselves to reveal their inner selves and their writing lives.

~till next time, Helen

Hooked on Imprisoned in Stone, The Weather Strikes, #MFRWHooks

For the next several weeks, the posts will showcase Imprisoned in Stone. To set the scene, Maerva has been accepted as an apprentice mage and is learning her craft. Her first journeyman task is to escort a herd of magical equines called the seisag to a winter grazing ground. But a blizzard is chasing their heels.

Excerpt:

Howling winds pulled Maerva from her light sleep. A thick white fog beyond the fire showed the blizzard in full rage. Her pulse raced. She had to harness the storm, to save the seisag. Fear of the unknown chilled her soul as much as the air cooled her skin. This would be her first real test as a mage. With an effort she forced herself to calm, to slow her racing pulse, she visualized the words of the spell. Uncomfortable being seated, she rose and moved beyond the reflector rock.

So as not to disturb the resting seisag, she whispered the incantation. Nothing happened. The wind still roared like a wounded bear. What had been fear soared to dread. A remembered warning in Tralin’s soft tone whispered in her ears. “To control the wind, one needs a weather stone.”

~ * ~

Buy Links: One click to ebook sellers
Paperback at Amazon / Barnes&Noble