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Historical Romance Novel The Bearwalker’s Daughter .99 in Kindle


‘A change was coming as surely as the shifting seasons. Karin McNeal heard the urgent whispers in the wind.’

**The Bearwalker’s Daughter has one of the most wonderful reviews I came across at Amazon. 

on July 23, 2014
Format: Kindle Edition|Verified Purchase
This is a story of love, and of the strength of familial bonds. It is a story of misaligned hatred against those “not of our kind”, in this case Native American and Scots-Irish. It touches upon the historical tragedies that befell families as white encroached upon Native lands, the kidnapping of children. And it shares some of the mystical mysteries that some elders from both sides were able to touch and share, a skill becoming most rare in modern times. Finally, it explores the fiery emotions of families and communities against members who fought on opposite sides of a war.
You’ll laugh, and you’ll cry. Your heart will glow warm, and it will crumble. But if you have any warmth at all in your heart, you will love and treasure this story… and pray this technology will last long enough to share it with your children and grandchildren.
Yes, it’s that good!~

Historical romance novel, The Bearwalker’s Daughter, is a blend of carefully researched historical fiction interwoven with an intriguing paranormal thread and set among the clannish Scots in the mist-shrouded Alleghenies. The story is similar to others of mine with a western colonial frontier, Native American theme, and features a powerful warrior or two. My passion for the past and some of the accounts I uncovered while exploring my early American Scots-Irish ancestors and the Shawnee Indians is at the heart of my inspiration.

A particularly tragic account is the driving force behind the story, the ill-fated romance of  a young captive woman who fell in love with the son of a chief. As the result of a treaty, she was taken from her warrior husband and forced back to her white family where she gave birth to a girl. Then the young woman’s husband did the unthinkable and left the tribe to go live among the whites, but such was their hatred of Indians that before he reached his beloved her brothers killed him. Inconsolable and weak from the birth, she grieved herself to death.

Heart-wrenching, that tale haunts me to this day. And I wondered, was there some way those young lovers could have been spared such anguish, and what happened to their infant daughter when she grew up? I know she was raised by her white family–not what they told her about her mother and warrior father.

Not only did The Bearwalker’s Daughter spring from that sad account, but it also had a profound influence on my historical romance novel Red Bird’s Song. Now that I’ve threaded it through two novels, perhaps I can let go…perhaps….

The history my novels draw from is raw and real, a passionate era where only the strong survive. Superstition ran high among both the Scots and Native Americans, and far more, a vision that transcends what is, to reach what can be. We think we’ve gained much in our modern era, and so we have.  But we’ve also lost. In my writing, I try to recapture what should not be forgotten.  Read and judge for yourself. And hearken back.  Remember those who’ve gone before you.

beautiful dark haired woman

Blurb: A Handsome Frontiersman, Mysterious Scots-Irish Woman, Shapeshifting Warrior, Dark Secret, Pulsing Romance…The Bearwalker’s Daughter~

Karin McNeal hasn’t grasped who she really is or her fierce birthright. A tragic secret from the past haunts the young Scots-Irish woman who longs to learn more of her mother’s death and the mysterious father no one will name. The elusive voices she hears in the wind hint at the dramatic changes soon to unfold in the mist-shrouded Alleghenies in Autumn, 1784.

Jack McCray, the wounded stranger who staggers through the door on the eve of her twentieth birthday and anniversary of her mother’s death, holds the key to unlock the past. Will Karin let this handsome frontiersman lead her to the truth and into his arms, or seek the shelter of her fiercely possessive kinsmen? Is it only her imagination or does someone, or something, wait beyond the brooding ridges–for her?~

family musket and powder horn image by my mom

The Bearwalker’s Daughter is .99 in Kindle through Oct. 19th at:  https://www.amazon.com/Bearwalkers-Daughter-Native-American-Warrior-ebook/dp/B007V6MA22

*Cover by my daughter Elise Trissel. She also formatted the novel for print.

*Image of old family musket, powder horn, and shot pouch by my mom Pat Churchman

***The Bearwalker’s Daughter is a revised version of romance novel Daughter of the Wind Publisher’s Weekly BHB Reader’s Choice Best Books of 2009 

“Ms. Trissel’s alluring style of writing invites the reader into a world of fantasy and makes it so believable it is spellbinding.” –Long and Short Reviews

For more of my work, visit my Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/Beth-Trissel/e/B002BLLAJ6/

Or just do a find on my name. I am the only Author Beth Trissel in the world.

From Paranormal Time Travel Romance Novel Somewhere My Lady (Book 1, Ladies in Time)


Is he real, or is he a ghost?

Excerpt from Chapter One:

Uncertain if she were dreaming or haunted, she gaped at the animated figures. Wait. There. Him.

Her attention riveted on one young man in the gathering. He’d spun by earlier. She’d swear he gazed over his shoulder in her direction, then promenaded up the hall. His expert steps returned him again to the entryway. Unlike the other dancers, he was fully corporeal. No partially seen legs or torso. Fitted blue breeches and silk stockings encased his long muscular legs. He wore his own chestnut brown hair pulled back in a queue at his neck, free of powder, while most male heads were wigged and white. The deep blue suit tailored to his tall figure complemented his deft steps in the English country dance.

Something about him held her spellbound…the tilt of his head, arch of his brow, glimpse of his profile… She followed his every move with the fixity of an owl.


He turned blue-gray eyes toward her and sensuous lips curved into a smile on his handsome face. 


Hands down. No contest. He was the hottest guy ever. Her heart beat a thrilling new rhythm.

He circled closer to where she stood rooted in the foyer, not moving a toe, scarcely drawing breath. 

Did he truly see her backed tremulously against the wall, or did it only feel that way?

Unlike the others in the ghostly assembly, his eyes didn’t skirt past her. He paused in the dance. Bending at the shoulders, he tipped his hand to her in a genteel flourish.

He’d freakin’ bowed. Her jaw dropped. He most definitely saw her. And she sure as heck saw him. A sparking sizzle jumped between them, awakening her as she’d never been roused before. Even more than when the house charged through her at her arrival. It was as if she were plugged in—to him.

How that could be, she had no idea, but when he gazed into her eyes, time seemed to stop. She spiraled into moonless stars, and back again to this dizzying realm. To him. Even if she were dreaming, she’d never forget this moment.

“Dance with me.” He beckoned to her.

“I don’t know how.” She forced the panted reply past the tightness in her throat.

He shook his head. “Nae, lady. You are grace itself.”

Gallant of him to say. “Clearly, you’ve never seen me play tennis.”

Humor flickered in his eyes and touched his mouth. “I should like to.” A look of urgency displaced the fleeting mirth. “Wait. Stay a moment,” he entreated.

Was she fading into dreamland, or was he?

Freeing himself from the others, he dashed to her and slipped something into her hand. “Keep this.” His voice a whisper in her ear. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

She eyed him incredulously. “But how—”

“Did I know you would be here?” he finished for her, melting tenderness in his gaze. “Because we have been here before.” He gestured at the doorway. “Danced through the foyer and into the garden.”

“What? When?”

He answered by cupping his hands to her face and pressing his warm lips to hers in a brief, but impassioned kiss. Any remaining breath she had was forfeited to him.

“Until we meet again, sweet lady.” He swept her a bow and was gone, and the others with him, like the mist vanishing in the sun streaming through the windows.

She stared after him, or the place he’d been, with her lips slightly parted. There were no words, only her wildly beating heart.

She shook her head to clear it, almost expecting the party—and him—to reappear. No. She was alone in the foyer. It was a dream. He was, too. Had to be. The most vivid, never-to-be-forgotten, dream ever. But she was awake, and when she glanced at her hand, she still held the scrap of paper.

Unfolding it, she mouthed, Wait for me, a simple request inked in penmanship that reflected the bold spirit of the young man who’d given it to her.

 Somewhere My Lady is available in kindle at:

The novel is also available from all other online booksellers.

“Time is too slow for those who wait, too swift for those who fear, too long for those who grieve, too short for those who rejoice, but for those who love, time is eternity.” ~Henry Van Dyke

Somewhere My Lady by Beth Trissell #Review #Romance #Timeslip


Fabulous Review for Somewhere My Lady!

splashesintobooks

Series:  Ladies in Time #1

Title: Somewhere My Lady

Author: Beth Trissell

Publisher:  The Wild Rose Press

Published: July 12th, 2017

Pages: 162

Rating: 5/5

My Review:

I’m sorry but I just couldn’t wait to alert you to this very different time slip romance with brill references to Doctor Who summing up so many incidents promoting the idea “that time is ‘more like a big ball of wobbly-wobbly, timey-wimey…stuff’ rather than strictly linear, as we perceive it.” I loved it! It is actually out on July 12th and I have no hesitation in recommending you  go and preorder yourself a copy – definitely one not to be missed IMHO!

Arriving to start a new summer job at Harrison Hall in Virginia, eighteen year old Lorna Randolph opens a door and is transported back to the 1770s where she is greeted by Hart Harrison who recognises her and knows…

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Colleen’s #Book #Reviews – “Somewhere My Lady,” by Author, Beth Trissel


Fabulous review for Somewhere My Lady (Ladies in Time Book 1)

✨Colleen Chesebro✨The Faery Whisperer ✨

  • Title: Somewhere My Lady, Book 1 in the Lady of Time Series
  • Amazon Author: Beth Trissel
  • File Size:  2109 KB
  • Print Length:  162 Pages
  • Publisher: The Wild Rose Press, Inc
  • Publication Date: July 12, 2017
  • Sold By: Amazon Digital Services LLC
  • Language: English
  • ASIN: B071VTNC7V
  • Formats: Paperback and Pre-release Price:
  • Kindle
  • Goodreads
  • Genres: Time Travel, Romance, Ghosts, Literature & Fiction, Paranormal Romance

    *I was given an advanced reader’s copy of this book by the author for review purposes*

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IN THE AUTHOR’S WORDS:

“Lorna Randolph is hired for the summer at Harrison Hall in Virginia, where Revolutionary-War reenactors provide guided tours of the elegant old home. She doesn’t expect to receive a note and a kiss from a handsome young man who then vanishes into the mist.

Harrison Hall itself has plans for Lorna – and for Hart Harrison, her momentary suitor and its 18th-century heir. Past and…

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The Magick of Trees


pattykoontz

Dark Hedges in N. Ireland

Trees are nature’s oldest living magick. I’ll always treasure the grand memories of my Daddy taking me by my hand and letting me tag along on the many strolls we took through different forest paths. A true  highlight of my childhood, while I learned about nature and the magick of trees. I’d  watch the squirrels and other creatures scurry about and make nests in the towering giants these critters called home. 

Whether strolling thru the enchanted woods where I envisioned the fairies playing and hiding beneath the caps of acorns, and knew the wee people and leprechauns lived; or else riding thru a shaded tunnel of mystical towering splendors – their magick has played a gigantic role in my imagination.

 

A few favorite fairy trees:

The Sacred Oak is not only king of the forest, but considered the most favored “home” of the fairies.

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Herbal Lore of the British Isles–April Workshop


herb gardenMy Herbal Lore Workshop for Celtic Hearts Romance Writers is also open to others. For more info and to register visit the link. The workshop runs from April 3-30, and will be interesting and informative. Although the focus of the herbs are those used historically in the British Isles, if a question arises about Native American plants, I can help out there, too. Be an active participant or a lurker. The material can be saved for later use. Lively interaction does make the class more fun, however.

Regarding homework, there isn’t any. If  you incorporate one or more of herbs into a scene you’ve written and would like feedback, I invite you to share it in the broader group, or email it to me privately and I’ll tell you if I think the herb choice and use seems right. My role is to offer information and inspiration.

Visit: http://celtichearts.org/herbal-lore-of-the-british-isles/

Every spring is the only spring — a perpetual astonishment. ~Ellis Peters


Springtime is the land awakening. The March winds are the morning yawn. ~Quoted by Lewis Grizzard in Kathy Sue Loudermilk, I Love You

(Crocus and violas in the garden blooming now)

It was one of those March days when the sun shines hot and the wind blows cold: when it is summer in the light, and winter in the shade. ~Charles Dickens, Great Expectations

I love spring anywhere, but if I could choose I would always greet it in a garden. ~Ruth Stout

The naked earth is warm with Spring,
And with green grass and bursting trees
Leans to the sun’s kiss glorying,
And quivers in the sunny breeze.
~Julian Grenfell

I wonder if the Daffodil
Shrinks from the touch of frost,
And when her veins grow stiff and still
She dreams that life is lost?
Ah, if she does, how sweet a thing
Her resurrection day in spring!
~Emma C. Dowd, “Daffodil and Crocus,” in Country Life in America: A Magazine for the Home-maker, the Vacation-seeker, the Gardener, the Farmer, the Nature-teacher, the Naturalist, April 1902

In the spring I have counted one hundred and thirty-six different kinds of weather inside of four and twenty hours. ~Mark Twain

Her fairies climb the bare, brown trees,
And set green caps on every stalk;
Her primroses peep bashfully
From borders of the garden walk,
And in the reddened maple tops
Her blackbird gossips sit and talk.
~Hannah R. Hudson, “April,” The Atlantic Monthly, April 1868

(Grecian wind flowers)

The first day of spring is one thing, and the first spring day is another. The difference between them is sometimes as great as a month. ~Henry Van Dyke

…the sweet wildflower breath of spring… ~Terri Guillemets

I hear the passing echoes of winter and feel the warming spring on my face. ~Terri Guillemets

A little madness in the Spring
Is wholesome even for the King.
~Emily Dickinson

The day the Lord created hope was probably the same day he created Spring. ~Bern Williams

(Snowdrops blooming in the garden)