Mistletoe

A Regency Christmas story wouldn't be complete without the hero and heroine celebrating their love with a kiss under the mistletoe. Long a symbol of fertility, mistletoe, with its glossy green leaves and white berries, has become a Christmas symbol of love and marriage.

Mistletoe is an evergreen, a spot of life in the brown, dormant landscape of a northern winter. At this low point of the year, Regency people decorated their houses with mistletoe, along with other seasonal greens such as Christmas rose (Hellebore), evergreen boughs, holly, ivy, hawthorn, laurel, rosemary, and bay, as a reminder that spring would return.

In England, mistletoe, which is a parasite, grows most often on apple trees, but also on blackthorn, hawthorn, lime, poplar, rowan and willow. Although its range extends from Devon to Yorkshire, the plant grows mainly to the south and west, and is particularly abundant around London.

Some of the myths surrounding mistletoe originated with the Druids, who deemed the plant a sexual symbol--the juice from the white berries resembles semen--and, by extension, an aphrodisiac. As part of their winter solstice ceremonies, they cut mistletoe from oak trees, providing a link to the later holiday of Christmas.

The origin of kissing under the mistletoe may derive from the Norse legend of the death of the sun god, Balder, killed by a sprig of mistletoe hurled by his enemy Loki. When Balder's mother, Frigga, the goddess of love, cried over her son, her tears resurrected him. In gratitude, she kissed everyone who came under the mistletoe.

A lesser known legend declares mistletoe the plant of peace. Enemies meeting under the mistletoe had to embrace and declare a truce until the next day. This goodwill and embrace may also be the source of the kiss under the mistletoe.

Regency people used mistletoe in the form of a kissing bough--a simple arrangement of mistletoe decorated with ribbons and hung over a doorway or entrance. The gentleman would kiss his lady and then pluck a white berry and present it to her, perhaps as a symbol of the child he could give her. When all the berries were gone, that sprig of mistletoe could no longer be used to steal kisses, although many people disregarded the berries' absence.

Now, for my latest news. The Wild Rose Press has just contracted my Regency Christmas novella, Mistletoe Everywhere, which incorporates the myth of enemies, in this case, the hero and heroine, declaring a truce under the mistletoe. Short blurb: A man who sees mistletoe everywhere is mad--or in love. More info here.

My Christmas present. Thank you, Wild Rose Press.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to all.

Linda

A Real Historical Hussy

If you looked in the dictionary under Historical Hussy, I have no doubt you would find a picture of Princess Nest of Wales.

During the Norman invasions and conquest of Southern Wales, war and upheaval was an everyday part of life. Had her father lived, Nest would have been a common noblewoman, married to a prince of a neighboring land. But the death in battle of Rhys ap Tewder, the last true king of South Wales, changed the fate of his young daughter and also the path of the History of three countries. 

The Normans realized the value of holding the kings children as their hostage. Her brothers were captives of Norman invaders in Ireland and England and at the tender age of ten or eleven, Nest was sent to live at under the rule Arnulf of Montgomery. 

Arnulf was one of the most powerful Normans in Southern Wales, so young Nest found herself in the company of men who would change the history of Wales. She was a very pretty child and caught the eye of Prince Henry, the brother and probable heir to England’s king, William Rufus.

Henry had himself appointed her protector and, as Nest grew into a great beauty, of course he fell in love with her. The only problem was the future king could not marry a low-level Welsh princess. Nest was smart enough to realize that the mistress of a prince and possible king, had nearly as many advantages as being his wife. She bore Henry a son, also named Henry and the FitzHenry line was born.

After Henry became king in 1100, he undertook to make sure that Nest and her son were provided for by marrying her to a favored vassal, Gerald of Windsor. Gerald was Henry’s steward of south Wales, so Nest became the most powerful woman in the territory.  She bore him several and so we have the FitzGerald’s.

In 1109, the beautiful Nest, caught the eye of Owain ap Cadwgan, the leader of the Welsh resistance to the Normans. He kidnapped Nest from Gerald’s castle and carried her off to his own lands. She reportedly had a child by him and so Nest added her royal blood to the FitzOwain’s line as well. King Henry had to eventually intervene to send Nest back to Gerald. Rumor has it that she was not happy about it, but to maintain the peace, she went back to Pembroke Castle.

Nest managed to outlive Gerald and married twice more. She had a son by Hait, the sheriff of Pembroke and two more children by her last husband, Stephen, the Constable of Cardigan. So the Hay’s and the FitzStephens’ can lay claim to being of royal blood as well.

Quite a busy woman was Princess Nest of Dyfed. In her lifetime, she managed to be the mother of five prominent families. Many of her children rose to importance in Wales and England. Placed as a hostage with the Normans as a child, Nest could have been merely a pawn in the politics and intrigue of the times. Instead she used her beauty and brains to become an astute manipulator of men, English and Welsh.

 

If you’d like to know more about Nest of Dyfed and her times, I recommend, Princess Nest of Wales: Seductress of the English, by Kari Maund.

 

Hanna Rhys Barnes is one of those people with an evenly balanced right and left brain.  She has a BA in English, but recently finished her final year as a high school math teacher.  She loves to cook and was a pastry chef in a former life.

A member of RWA’s national organization and of several local chapters, she currently lives and works in Portland, OR, but occasionally visits her retirement ranchette outside of Kingman, AZ

Hanna’s Debut Novel, Widow’s Peak, is due to be released September 23, 2009 from The Wild Rose Press. She is currently working on Book 2 in the series, Kissed By A Rose.

 

Interview with Hanna Rhys Barnes

Historical Hussies: Today we’re interviewing Debut Wild Rose Press author Hanna Rhys Barnes.

Hanna Rhys Barnes: Hi. Thanks for having me here at Historical Hussies.

HH: So, tell us a little about yourself?  What is your typical day like?

HRB: Well, I just got back from a trip to the Southwestern coast of Wales. It was fabulous. I took a million pictures, a few of which are posted on my blog, Never Too Late For Love I got to visit castles everyday, including the one in which I've set the manuscript I'm currently working on. I’m living in beautiful Portland, Oregon at the moment. Right now I am one of the vast and growing mass of unemployed. So I spend part of my day job searching, part of my day writing, and part of my day promoting my debut novel, Widow’s Peak which is due to be released in September from The Wild Rose Press.

HH: What influenced you to write?

HRB: I used to be a member of a Renaissance guild and spent summer playing at Renaissance Faires around Southern California. My first attempt at writing was inspired by my adventures at Renn Faire.

HH: What inspired you to write romance?

HRB: I’m a late comer to Romance. I picked up my first Romance around four or five years ago. It was Kinley MacGregor’s A Dark Champion. I read everything she had written and then started in on other authors. Then I thought, “I can do this too.” So I sat down and started writing what I thought was a Romance. Eventually I learned about the craft of Romance Writing and was able to convince my editor Amanda Barnette to take a chance with me.

HH: When did you start to write and how long did it take you get published? 

HRB: I started writing fiction about five years ago. I started writing Romance about two years ago. Once I learned the difference between Literary fiction and Romance, I sold within a few months of rewriting my entire manuscript.

HH: What genre or sub-genre do you write? Why did you choose this genre?

HRB: I LOVE History. Especially the Medieval and Renaissance Periods. So I write Hot Historical Romance set in those periods, but in locations like Southwest Wales, Northwest England, Gaul, and the Lowlands of Scotland.

HH: What difficulties do writing this genre present?

HRB: The hardest thing for me was learning to write dialogue using period language. Finding that balance between not sounding modern, yet not overwhelming the reader with language they won’t understand. It’s ok for me to have a dictionary by my side, but I don’t want my reader to have to look up meanings for every other word.

HH: How do you write?  Are you a pantser or a plotter?  Is it your characters or your plot that influences you the most?

HRB: I am definitely a Panster. By far, my plots are character driven. Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night with one of my characters telling me “That’s not the way it happened! Write it like this.” It’s their story so whenever I can, I write it their way.

HH: How do you choose your characters' names?

HRB: My favorite reference book is Names Through Time by Teresa Norman. It’s set up by time period within each country. Once I decide on my setting, I look at names in use during the time period I’m writing in. Sometimes I go by the meaning of the name. Sometimes I just pick the one that the character wants.

HH: Tell us about your newest book

My first book, Widow’s Peak will be coming out September 23^rd from The Wild Rose Press. I’m so excited. It’s the story of an assassin and an older widow who accidentally cross paths and fall in love. Here’s an excerpt:

      Laine stood clutching the washstand with one hand as his head began to spin. “Wait, my lady. Would you help me, please?”

“How may I be of service to you?” Her back was to him but her head tilted down.

“I think I must sit or I shall fall.”

She drew a sharp breath and forgetting her modesty, rushed toward him, grabbing a chair as she passed the table.

Laine felt his knees buckle, and he fell into her arms.

With no great effort, she lowered him into the chair and hurried to grab the coverlet from the foot of the bed. She draped it over his legs.

“You should not be up yet,” she chided as she knelt beside him and pressed her palm against his brow and cheeks.

“I need to be up, my lady.” He smiled weakly at her. “‘Twill do me no good to stay abed. I must leave soon.” The luxury of a few days peace had been a boon, but he knew if he stayed much longer danger would come. When the Spider discovered his escape, another assassin would be sent.

“Well, you have no fever.” Her voice softened a bit. “Still you cannot go until you can ride, and you cannot ride until you can walk. And for now, you cannot walk…without some help.”

She was right. He had barely been able to stand for the little time it took to walk to the washstand.

“Where is it you must go?” She stood and brushed a lock of hair back from his forehead. “I could send word of your delay.”

Laine looked up into a beautiful face. A compassionate face. He took her hand and pressed it to his lips. “Thank you, my lady, for your kindness and generosity. I owe you my life.”

“‘Tis only what should be expected for any who came to me the way you did.” Lady Barnard slid her hand from his and retrieved the pitcher from the table. She filled the washbowl, and the steam that rose from the hot water filled the room with the scent of lavender. She took the cloth from his hand and began to wash his body as if he was a small child.

Thoughts of assassins and leaving quieted as he closed his eyes and let himself enjoy her ministrations. The firm pressure as she wiped away the grime and sweat of his illness. The touch of her fingers against his scalp as she soaped his hair.

She stopped and he opened his eyes to find her wiping her hands on the cloth.

“Tilt your head back.”

Laine nodded, then raised his chin toward the ceiling. Rivulets of warm water streamed over aching muscles, and the lavender scent enveloped him like a cocoon as she poured first the washbowl and then the remainder of the water in the ewer over his head.

Laine looked down at the heavy wetness in his lap. “Your coverlet is ruined.” She had not removed the decorative piece, but merely worked around it.

“Nay. A time with the laundress will mend it. Now that you recover, I shall have the bed renewed.”

She went to a trunk at the end of the bed and pulled out a shirt, a short tunic and a pair of trews. “Have you enough strength to put these on?”

“Aye, my lady.”

“I shall fetch your boots.”

She left him alone to dress himself. The clothes were not his and were several years out of fashion, but they fit fairly well. A loud knock at the door announced her return.

“Master de la Vierre?”

“Please enter, my lady.”

She carried his cleaned boots and surprised him when she knelt down to help him pull them on. Most noble ladies would not soil their hands this way. This simple kindness made him want to know more of her.

She looked up and smiled. She had taken off the apron and the yellow of her simple linen gown framed her face, making her skin seem to glow.

He wanted to reach out and stroke her cheek, but decorum restrained him. He could not recall a more beautiful woman than the one kneeling before him.

“There, now.” She stood, extending her arm. “Would you like to try to walk with me?”

Laine smiled as he looked into her pale brown eyes. “Yes, my lady. I think I would like that very much.”

She helped him from the chair, and he took her arm. They took a few tentative steps and then walked to the door and back before he was too tired to continue. His side and legs ached by the time she sat him at the small table.

“You did well,” she chimed. “We will do more anon.” She reached out and touched his shoulder. “You rest and I shall bring you some dinner.”

As she closed the door behind her, Laine thought her unlike any lady of the court. She was a step above in both manner and beauty. Sir Thomas de Barnard had been a very lucky man indeed 

HH: An assassin. Sounds like your hero has an interesting past. I can't wait to find out what happens to these two. What are you working on now?

HRB: Right now I’m finishing up the second book in this trilogy. The sequel to Widow's Peak is called Kissed By A Rose.  It’s about Lady Amye’s son, Jamie. He’s mentioned briefly in Widow’s Peak, but we get to learn a lot more about him in Book 2.  Book 3 in the trilogy will be about Lady Amye’s daughter, Marie.

HH: Thanks so much for joining us today, Hanna.

HRB: Thanks again for having me. I just started my new blog Never Too Late For Love. I would love to hear from all you wonderful Historical Romance fans and authors. I’m running weekly contests through mid-May in honor of my new blogging venture and my upcoming birthday. Stop by at http://hannarhysbarnes.blogspot.com to see what I’m up to.

Getting to Know Loretta

Hello all you Historical Hussie readers. I’m a little wind-burned, a whole lotta butt-weary, and still trying to shake the chill from my bones from my recent motorcycle trip to St. Augustine, Florida. While riding along and thinking about the plot line for my next novel, something hit me in the top of my head. KAPOW! No, it wasn’t seagull, it was my internal conscience reminding me that my blog was due, and geez, I hadn’t even thought of a topic. I could tell you about St. Augustine. It’s a town filled with wonderful history, but I’ll save that for another time. Instead, for those of you who don’t already know me, I’ll introduce myself.

First, I’m Loretta Rogers, and you’ve just learned that I ride a motorcycle. While I’ve given up my own bike, these days, I’m content being the passenger. The other thing about me is that for Avalon books, I write under the pseudonym-L. W. Rogers. The reason being is that men traditionally don’t buy/read Westerns written by women. So, shh! Don’t tell.

I write Westerns (think Louie L’Amour, Zane Grey, Cotton Smith), and I also write historical Western Romance. While I do write in other genres, I’ve always felt that I was born in the wrong era. Setting my stories in the old West allows me to live vicariously during that time period.

One of the difficulties I find in writing about the old West isn’t the subject or the time period, but the research. As a retired language arts/social studies teacher, I have a passion for history, so I tend to get so caught up in the research that find myself delving into topics that have nothing to do with what I’m writing. If I’m not mistaken, that’s called procrastination. One of the most interesting bits of research I’ve come across recently, is the reason sane women in the 1800s were put into insane asylums and the other was why women in this same time period became prostitutes.

I treat my writing as a business. I write every day, approximately 8 hours a day. When the story is flowing, I might put in 12 hours. When I’m on deadline, I’ve even awaken at 4:00 in the morning, still in my typing chair. On those hectic deadline days, my husband comes in and gets me out of my office for fear that rigor mortis will set in. One of the coolest things about being a writer is going to work in my pajamas. I don’t do that often, only sometime. Seriously, the best perks about being an author (besides getting publishing contracts) is doing book signings and giving writing workshops. I enjoy chatting with people, whether they buy books or not, and of course, being a teacher, I like sharing what I’ve learned about writing with aspiring writers.

One thing that has surprised me the most about writing is how much time is required to market myself and my novels. Marketing goes beyond having a nice website. And marketing isn’t for the faint-of-heart. Marketing is a balancing act between how much time to allow for blogging, answering and reading emails, creating book trailers, traveling to book signings, finding time to work on a new novel, and meeting editorial deadlines for galleys on contracted novels, and somewhere in all that madness still find time to do housework, buy groceries, pay bills and breathe.

I’m often asked if I’m a plotter or a panster. I think I’ll coin a new phrase and call myself a, planster, because I’m a little bit of a plotter and a whole lot of panster. For those of you who aren’t familiar with the term-panster-it’s someone who has the story in their head, sits down and writes it from beginning to end. Who/what influences my stories: characters or plot? It depends on the type story I’m writing. Westerns are plot driven with fast-paced action, while Western romances are character driven. Which do I like the best? Hmmm! Regardless of whether it’s plot or character driven, I tend to like whatever I’m currently working on, the best.

When aspiring writers ask for advice, I usually tell them to read, read, read books in the genre in which they are interested in writing. Recently, I had occasion to attend a workshop given by Joan Johnston. She reaffirmed this advice. In fact, she said it takes about ten thousand hours of reading books in a person’s selected genre to know what works and what doesn’t work, what makes that particular book a best-seller and what makes the reader want to throw a book against the wall. The next piece of advice is to grow a thick skin. The averages of getting a rejection letter the first time submitting is greater than getting that first contract. Rejection letters tear a hole in your pride. You have to learn not to take it personally. Next, set that old manuscript aside and start a new project. Once you’ve completed and submitted the new project, then go back and revisit the old one. Sadly, I know people who after thirty years are still writing that same old tired novel. If you expect to get published, you have to write, rewrite, edit, perfect, know the publishers’ submission guidelines and get your manuscripts in the mail or in today’s world of modern technology sent off by email attachment. Then after you’ve chewed on your fingernails for a while, spent a few hours praying, and a couple of sleepless nights fretting about did you get everything right, get busy writing another story.

A little about my projects—The Twisted Trail, a “Cracker” Western published by Avalon Books released April, 2008, and my newest Western, Brady’s Revenge will release October, 2009. It is slated to be Avalon’s lead novel. Also published with The Wild Rose Press, Isabelle and the Outlaw, a time-travel, historical western romance novella, released December 2007, has been recontracted to release in April 2009 in the Through the Garden Gate Anthology print edition. Also a novella, McKenna’s Woman, a historical western romance will release in June 2009 as part of the Outlaw’s and Lawmen Anthology print book. Currently, I’m working on a new L. W. Rogers Western for Avalon Books.

I think I’ll close out this lengthy biography by sharing the most unusual way I came up with how to kill off a character in a story. In Westerns, people tend to all die the same way: gunfight, shot in the back, trampled in a stampede, an arrow through the heart, etc. Well, I had a villain who was so despicable that he deserved to die a horrific death. I just couldn’t come up with anything original and really gruesome, until. . .I was watching Paula Deen on the cooking channel. She was creating a dish where she poured brandy into a hot frying pan. The fire flamed up and looked as if it had consumed my television screen. That’s when I had my “Aha” moment. But, you’ll have to wait until Bannon’s Brides is published to find out exactly how I used whiskey to set the villain ablaze. And once the novel is published, I’m going to send Paula an autographed copy.

Now that you’ve gotten to know me, I hope you’ll come back and visit Historical Hussies often.