Tag Archives: best paranormal romance

#Ghostly #Timetravel #Romance Somewhere My Love .99 in Kindle


I conceived the idea for my Somewhere in Time series years ago while watching one of my favorite British mysteries, Midsomer Murders.  I enjoy the historic setting of these modern-day mysteries, but especially when the story flashes back to an earlier time period in an old manor house to get to the root of the mystery. So I thought, why not incorporate mystery with my love of romance and history.
Moreover, I’m intrigued by ghost stories, and Virginia has more tales than any other state. I find myself asking if the folk who’ve gone before us are truly gone, or do some still have unfinished business in this realm? And what of the young lovers whose time was tragically cut short, do they somehow find a way?  Love conquers all, so I answer ‘yes.’  The theme behind ghostly, murder mystery romance Somewhere My Love, the first in my Somewhere in Time series.

Blurb: Fated lovers have a rare chance to reclaim the love cruelly denied them in the past, but can they grasp this brief window in time before it’s too late?

Two hundred years ago Captain Cole Wentworth, the master of an elegant Virginian home, was murdered in his chamber where his portrait still hangs. Presently the estate is a family owned museum run by Will Wentworth, a man so uncannily identical to his ancestor that spirit-sensitive tour guide Julia Morrow has trouble recognizing Cole and Will as separate. As Julia begins to remember the events of Cole’s death, she must convince Will that history is repeating, and this time he has the starring role in the tragedy. The blade is about to fall.

“A beautiful love story with plenty of suspense and mystery. With a murderer on the loose and a house haunted by the ghosts of the past, can William and Julia figure everything out and survive? Visit Foxleigh Hall and find out.” ~Night Owl Romance, a Night Owl Top Pick
“As I read Somewhere My Love, I recalled the feelings I experienced the first time I read Daphne DuMaurier’s Rebecca long ago. Using the same deliciously eerie elements similar to that gothic romance, Beth Trissel has captured the haunting dangers, thrilling suspense and innocent passions that evoke the same tingly anticipation and heartfelt romance I so enjoyed then, and still do now.” ~joysann for Publisher’s Weekly

****.99 In Kindle from Oct. 1 through Oct. 7 athttps://www.amazon.com/SOMEWHERE-LOVE-Somewhere-Time-Book-ebook/dp/B00AFJ7DZ6

Ghostly Romance Novel Somewhere My Love .99 for the Holidays


NEW SOMEWHERE MY LOVE COVER2A Night Owl Top Pick“The story will draw a reader in and will not let go until the very last page. It is a novel that will live in the hearts of its readers for a very long time.”
I conceived the idea for my Somewhere in Time series years ago while watching one of my favorite British mysteries, Midsomer Murders.  I enjoy the historic setting of these modern day mysteries, but especially when the story flashes back to an earlier time period in an old manor house to get to the root of the mystery. So I thought, why not incorporate that with my love of romance and history.
Somewhere My Love Won the Clash of the Covers Contest at Embrace The Shadows!Moreover, I’m intrigued by ghost stories, and Virginia has more tales than any other state. I find myself asking if the folk who’ve gone before us are truly gone, or do some still have unfinished business in this realm? And what of the young lovers whose time was tragically cut short, do they somehow find a way?  Love conquers all, so I answer ‘yes.’  The theme behind ghostly, murder mystery romance Somewhere My Love, the first story in the series.
Julia's in love with a ghost

Julia’s in love with a ghost

Blurb For Somewhere My Love:
Fated lovers have a rare chance to reclaim the love cruelly denied them in the past, but can they grasp this brief window in time before it’s too late?
 
Two hundred years ago Captain Cole Wentworth, the master of an elegant Virginian home, was murdered in his chamber where his portrait still hangs. Presently the estate is a family owned museum run by Will Wentworth, a man so uncannily identical to his ancestor that spirit-sensitive tour guide Julia Morrow has trouble recognizing Cole and Will as separate. As Julia begins to remember the events of Cole’s death, she must convince Will that history is repeating, and this time he has the starring role in the tragedy.
The blade is about to fall.~
Ghostly night Sky
“As I read Somewhere My Love, I recalled the feelings I experienced the first time I read Daphne DuMaurier’s Rebecca long ago. Using the same deliciously eerie elements similar to that Gothic romance, Beth Trissel has captured the haunting dangers, thrilling suspense and innocent passions that evoke the same tingly anticipation and heartfelt romance I so enjoyed then, and still do now.”
Illustrated Excerpts From Light Paranormal Romance Somewhere My Love
 ***Somewhere My Love is available in eBook and print at Amazon and Barnes & Noble.
The novel is reduced to .99 in kindle and nookbook for the holidays.

The Whys Behind Time Travel Romance Somewhere My Lass–Beth Trissel


Will Mora and Neil be too late to save a love that began centuries before?

somewhere_my_lass_final resizedFor inquiring minds, those of you who want to know, or are mildly interested, my suspenseful romance novel Somewhere My Lass, was an intriguing tale to weave and quite an adventure. It’s also one I had no intention of undertaking until the vivid dream that led to the startling intro: the hero, Neil MacKenzie, returns home from work to find his elderly housekeeper lying murdered at the bottom of the winding staircase and a young woman in full Scottish dress slumped at the top. She, however, isn’t dead.

‘What the heck,’ I said to self. And that’s all I had to go on at the start of this venture, but was so intrigued I had to learn their story and pondered all the clues given. An old Victorian house, check, I’m very familiar with those; man wearing modern suit, so the story opens in present day, got it, but the young woman came from the past. Scotland’s past. This will take some doing, I concluded. Being a member of Celtic Hearts Romance Writers, a fabulous online group, was/is a great resource. I’d taken a Scottish history class and reread that trove of material while doing my usual obsessive research. I love gleaning more about the past and used an actual feud in 1602 between the MacKenzies and MacDonalds as a jumping off place.

Both Neil and the heroine, Mora Campbell, were so clear in my mind and a lot of fun to work with—send their regards—and definitely rank among my cast of favorites. The romance between them is one of the best I’ve written. The chemistry just took off. The story, though, is not super-hot, but seductively sensual. I actually received a high-five along with a ‘warning’ from one reviewer because it wasn’t erotic. Weird. Warning, warning, this is not super-hot. Who sends out a Mayday alert for that? It says something about the state of romance today.

Interestingly, the Scarlet Pimpernel, a classic love story, plus he’s ingenious, never does more than kiss the ground his beloved’s exquisitely shod feet have trod, because he can’t trust her enough to express his undying passion until the end when he tells all and carries her in his arms, as her poor feet are bloodied and bruised from a selfless attempt to save him. Only he didn’t need saving. I don’t recall even a kiss between the two, except when his heated lips brush her hand, and yet it’s deeply romantic and has sparked many films. But I digress. Frequently.

Regarding the setting for Somewhere My Lass, until this book all my stories took place in America, past and present. This departure to Scotland was a challenge, but I drew deeply on my English Scots-Irish roots, which I’ve been doing all along. Apart from the prominent Native American characters in some of my work, the others are of English/Scots-Irish backgrounds, with a smidgen of French. My ancestors, too, have a smidgen of French in the meld, a Norman knight who fought with William the Conqueror, and some French Huguenots.

One unique aspect of the story, is that rather than beginning with the hero or heroine going back in time, I brought her forward (as was the case in the dream) before sending them back together. I also included kewl sci-fi features, new for me. I’ve learned a great deal from my journey into Bonnie Old Scotland. I fell in love with the characters, new ones nudge at my mind, and I’m at work (possibly forever) on the sequel. The colorful secondary, Neil’s quirky friend Angus Fergus, has a lot of fans.

In writing Somewhere My Lass,  I was influenced by my beloved Author C S Lewis and his Chronicles of Narnia that I grew up reading. I’m still looking for Narnia. Isn’t everyone? My love of old castles and the Scottish Highlands also lent inspiration.Many of the early Scots-Irish settlers in the Shenandoah Valley, my ancestors among them, chose to live here because of the resemblance the valley and mountains bore to Scotland and Ireland. As near to home as they were likely to find in the New World.

The concept behind my Somewhere in Time series, of which Somewhere My Lass is Book Two (though written to stand alone) is that the story opens in present day, so far my home state of Virginia, and then transports the reader Somewhere else. Either back to an earlier time in the same house, as in Somewhere My Love and Somewhere The Bells Ring, or another place altogether, as in Somewhere My Lass. The wonderful old homes I grew up in and visited over the years are an integral part of the inspiration behind this series. In Somewhere My Lass, I used a compilation of Victorian homes for the mysterious house in historic Staunton, Virginia where the story begins. How do they go back and forth in time, you may ask. Why through ‘the door to nowhere,’ of course, a portal to the past. I was acquainted with just such a door as a child.  However that was typically Victorian, not the ancient door pictured, a royalty free image, I hasten to add. No, this Medieval door is where one enters on the other side of the portal. Yes, yes, I’m earnestly at work on the sequel to Somewhere My Lass. (Somewhere in the Highlands, Fergus’s story)

***Somewhere My Lass is currently available in kindle for the lofty price of .99. 

A Haunted Garden Halloween Hop–Beth Trissel


On my stop in this haunted hop with fellow Wild Rose Press Authors, I’m sharing the eerie account of the poltergeist in our old farm-house and giving away my ghostly romance novel, Somewhere My Love, OR my new ghostly Christmas romance novella, Somewhere the Bells Ring, in pdf or kindle format, winner’s choice. If I’m feeling generous I may choose more than one winner. I’ve been know to do that. Just leave me a comment and tell me which story you’d like to receive if selected.  Now back to my haunting and TRUE tale:

About ten years ago, my young adult son moved into the big white farm-house on our other farm. We have two farms located near each other in the Shenandoah Valley of Virginia and both homes are well over one hundred years old, going  on two. Some of his guy friends moved in and everything was fine, then he and his fiancée (now wife) got to work remodeling the house. At first, no one thought much about the noises. Neither of them even mentioned a thing to me.

Then one night my son called, alone and uneasy. He was hunkered downstairs with his cat. Seems there were footsteps he couldn’t account for and a certain bedroom upstairs with a door that wouldn’t stay shut. No matter how many times he closed it, come morning it was always open. Earlier that week, his fiancé had been distressed when the bathroom doorknob turned and the door opened on her.  No one was there.  It freaked the cat out.  Didn’t do her much good either. She was promptly converted from a disbeliever in ghosts to one strongly considering their reality.

Now, she’d gone away on a trip with her church and none of my son’s other friends were around. The last of his roomies had moved out. I suspected all the remodeling they’d done to the house had stirred something up. So, I went over.

Here, I’ll digress to say I’d dreamed earlier of a small grave plot way back in the fields behind the house and of a restless spirit associated with both. As it turned out there is just such a cemetery, an antiquated one. After I arrived that evening, my son and I went upstairs to the suspect bedroom and shut the door. I wanted to scream, and not just because I’m claustrophobic.

We held hands and I repeated the Exorcism prayer sent to my mother from an Episcopalian woman in England. She’d written my mother about visiting the church manse at the invitation of the new priest who was plagued by a poltergeist–one so violent, it had flung portraits down from the hall upstairs and hurled a saucepan lid across the kitchen. But the congregants, along with the priest, had prayed it out. As this was a Christian prayer, my son and I did the same. Never again did he or his fiancé hear footsteps or have any more trouble with doorknobs turning. That bedroom door remained as they left it and the chill feeling I had in the room is gone.

Now, what do you think of that?

Here’s the Anglican prayer. Do not try this alone if the presence you sense is evil, only with a strong group of Christians, the more, the better. And join hands. Even if you think I’m nuts.

“In the name of God the FatherGod the Son and God the Holy Ghost, may this distressed soul be relieved of his obsession with this world and sent to where he belongs.”

I added, ‘go to the light,’ although a truly evil presence won’t, but a troubled, restless one may. Seems only right to offer that as an option.

This is one of the experiences that influenced the writing of my ghostly light paranormal romance novel Somewhere My Love.

***To visit the next five Wild Rose Press authors participating in this haunted garden hop just click on their blog link. Each one is giving away a prize. They are listed below:

 

http://www.ceradubois.com/blog/
http://micheledewinton.blogspot.co.nz/
http://veldabrotherton.wordpress.com
http://pamelafryer.blogspot.com
http://www.kmnbooks.com/karens-shenanigans/

***Royalty free images

Sweet Saturday Sample from Ghostly Romance Novel Somewhere My Love–Beth Trissel


My 'Somewhere in Time' Series--Beth TrisselFrom Chapter Five: Will and Julia in rehearsal for Hamlet (Yes, Somewhere My Love has Hamlet parallels, plus Hamlet features a rather famous ghost)

Julia (as Ophelia) looked pained. “‘You are merry, my lord.’”

“‘Oh, God. What should a man do but be merry?’”

Will rose to heap condemnation on the queen for wedding his uncle so soon after the king’s death. It was a stretch, to say the least, to envision his elderly grandmother as the seductive beauty who’d  captivated his evil uncle, played by the sweating, ill at ease Douglas. But Will stabbed a finger in Nora’s direction. “‘For look you how cheerfully my mother does, and my father died within two hours.’”

“‘Nay, it’s twice two months, my lord,’” Julia corrected.

Will answered with Hamlet’s sarcasm. “‘So long?  O heavens, die two months ago and not forgotten  yet? There’s hope a great man’s memory may outlive  his life half a year.’”

Cole’s had outlived his by two centuries.

Will gentled his voice and bent back over Julia, cupping her sweet face between his hands. He loved the feel of her smooth skin. “‘Get thee to a nunnery. Why wouldst thou be a breeder of sinners? It were better my mother had not born me.’”

She gazed at him in convincing bewilderment.

He wore on. “‘I am proud, revengeful, ambitious, with more offenses at my beck than I have thoughts  to put them in or time to act them. What should  such fellows as I do crawling between earth and  heaven? Believe none of us. We are errant knaves,  all. To a nunnery, go. And quickly, too,’” he urged,  and covered her lips in a hard kiss.

The taste of her was intoxicating and he drew out the feel of her mouth as long as he dared. Angry and hurt she might be, but she had no choice other  than to kiss him now. His grandmother was also obligated to indulge him. For a moment.

Heart pounding, he straightened and smoothed Julia’s soft cheek. “‘Farewell.’”

It was only a part and he merely an actor in a play, but Will recoiled at the finality of that word. ~

***For more authors participating in Sweet Saturday Samples click HERE.

***Somewhere my Love is available for .99 at Amazon Kindle

“Be wary then; best safety lies in fear.” ~ Hamlet

The ‘Whys’ Behind Scottish Time Travel Romance Somewhere My Lass–Beth Trissel


somewhere_my_lass_final resizedFor inquiring minds, those of you who want to know, or are mildly interested, my suspenseful romance novel Somewhere My Lass, was an intriguing tale to weave and quite an adventure. It’s also one I had no intention of undertaking until the vivid dream that led to the startling intro: the hero, Neil MacKenzie, returns home from work to find his elderly housekeeper lying murdered at the bottom of the winding staircase and a young woman in full Scottish dress slumped at the top. She, however, isn’t dead.

‘What the heck,’ I said to self. And that’s all I had to go on at the start of this venture, but was so intrigued I had to learn their story and pondered all the clues given. An old Victorian house, check, I’m very familiar with those; man wearing modern suit, so the story opens in present day, got it, but the young woman came from the past. Scotland’s past. This will take some doing, I concluded. Being a member of Celtic Hearts Romance Writers, a fabulous online group, was/is a great resource. I’d taken a Scottish history class and reread that trove of material while doing my usual obsessive research. I love gleaning more about the past and used an actual feud in 1602 between the MacKenzies and MacDonalds as a jumping off place.

Both Neil and the heroine, Mora Campbell, were so clear in my mind and a lot of fun to work with—send their regards—and definitely rank among my cast of favorites. The romance between them is one of the best I’ve written. The chemistry just took off. The story, though, is not super-hot, but seductively sensual. I actually received a high-five along with a ‘warning’ from one reviewer because it wasn’t erotic. Weird. Warning, warning, this is not super-hot. Who sends out a Mayday alert for that? It says something about the state of romance today.

Interestingly, the Scarlet Pimpernel, a classic love story, plus he’s ingenious, never does more than kiss the ground his beloved’s exquisitely shod feet have trod, because he can’t trust her enough to express his undying passion until the end when he tells all and carries her in his arms, as her poor feet are bloodied and bruised from a selfless attempt to save him. Only he didn’t need saving. I don’t recall even a kiss between the two, except when his heated lips brush her hand, and yet it’s deeply romantic and has sparked many films. But I digress. Frequently.

Regarding the setting for Somewhere My Lass, until this novel all my stories took place in America, past and present. This departure to Scotland was a challenge, but I drew deeply on my English Scots-Irish roots, which I’ve been doing all along. Apart from the prominent Native American characters in some of my work, the others are of English/Scots-Irish backgrounds, with a smidgen of French. My ancestors, too, have a smidgen of French in the meld, a Norman knight who fought with William the Conqueror, and some French Huguenots.

One unique aspect of the story, is that rather than beginning with the hero or heroine going back in time, I brought her forward (as was the case in the dream) before sending them back together. I also included kewl sci-fi features, new for me. I’ve learned a great deal from my journey into Bonnie Old Scotland. I fell in love with the characters, new ones nudge at my mind, and I’m at work (possibly forever) on the sequel. The colorful secondary, Neil’s quirky friend Angus Fergus, has a lot of fans.

In writing Somewhere My Lass, certainly I was influenced by my beloved Author C S Lewis and his Chronicles of Narnia that I grew up reading. I’m still looking for Narnia. Isn’t everyone? My love of old castles and the Scottish Highlands also lent inspiration.Many of the early Scots-Irish settlers in the Shenandoah Valley, my ancestors among them, chose to live here because of the resemblance the valley and mountains bore to Scotland and Ireland. As near to home as they were likely to find in the New World.

The concept behind my Somewhere in Time series, of which Somewhere My Lass is Book Two (though written to stand alone) is that the story opens in present day, so far my home state of Virginia, and then transports the reader Somewhere else. Either back to an earlier time in the same house, as in Somewhere My Love and Somewhere The Bells Ring, or another place altogether, as in Somewhere My Lass. The wonderful old homes I grew up in and visited over the years are an integral part of the inspiration behind this series. In Somewhere My Lass, I used a compilation of Victorian homes for the mysterious house in historic Staunton, Virginia where the story begins. How do they go back and forth in time, you may ask. Why through ‘the door to nowhere,’ of course, a portal to the past. I was acquainted with just such a door as a child.  However that was typically Victorian, not the ancient door pictured, a royalty free image, I hasten to add. No, this Medieval door is where one enters on the other side of the portal. Yes, yes, I’m earnestly at work on the sequel to Somewhere My Lass.

***Somewhere My Lass is available in kindle for the lofty price of .99. 

 

Sweet Saturday Sample From Ghostly Romance Somewhere the Bells Ring–Beth Trissel


How about a little Christmas in July and a new excerpt from Chapter Three of my vintage American Christmas Romance with more than a whisper of the paranormal?

December 1968 

The pale light trailing down the hall illuminated the closed door to her right. Bailey stopped outside the wooden barrier, darkened and scored with age, and pressed her ear to its hard surface. Nothing unusual reached her above the rattle of the wind. Likely the smoke she detected had floated upstairs from the living room hearth. If a bum had stolen into the house and taken up residence in here—a wildly unlikely premise—she shouldn’t seek him out alone. Worse—if a ghost lurked within, she didn’t want to come upon this unearthly specter by herself. Or at all. She shivered from more than the frigid air, but didn’t turn back.

It might well be that the figure and light she’d seen earlier were simply the fabrications of her overactive mind. Supposedly no one had stayed in here for decades, presumably because it wasn’t needed. Ella gave the room an occasional dusting then shut the door. Any spillover of company slept elsewhere, including the two spare bedrooms downstairs.

Still, Bailey wondered. She had to peek inside this room. Go, if you’re going, she urged herself, before she lost her nerve.

Anticipating furniture covered in dimly seen sheets, an icy chill like the inside of a mausoleum, and no signs of life except possibly a vaporous figure, she gave the brass knob a twist and opened the door. She stood stock-still. The room crackled to life like the fire burning in the hearth across the stretch of carpet right in front of her.

If she’d come here during the day would all be as she’d expected? Was she dreaming now, because seated before the fire in one of two leather armchairs was a young man, and not just any man. He resembled Edward Burke from the photograph in the dining room. Brown hair with a tendency to wave had grown back from the short military cut she’d seen beneath the cap he wore in the picture.

Instead of the Marine uniform from World War One, he was dressed in a rust-brown velveteen robe with a shawl collar worked in a multicolored print, the sort of robe gentlemen wore in pictures she’d seen of early Twentieth Century fashion. The plush cloth covered him nearly to his ankles. His stocking feet were shod in slippers of the same hue and propped on a padded footstool.

He glanced up from the book he held in long, slender fingers. His chestnut brows rose in a quizzical arch then drew together above narrowing brown eyes. “Did no one ever instruct you to knock before entering a gentleman’s bedchamber?”

***This scene was inspired by a dream I had…which led to my writing the story.

*Old Virginia family home place pictured above.

For more Sweet Saturday Samples click HERE.

SOMEWHERE THE BELLS RING is available in ebook at The Wild Rose PressAmazon KindleAll Romance Ebooks, Barnes & Noble’s Nookbook & other online booksellers.

Sweet Saturday Sample from The Bearwalker’s Daughter


An expectant nicker welcomed Karin from the first stall. She brushed chilled fingers over the mare’s soft black muzzle and fed her searching mouth the apple she’d brought. Velvet lips crunched the juicy fruit and nudged her for more.

“That’s all.” Her voice was lost in the rattling wind.

She walked past the remaining stalls and nuzzling lips. McNeal bloodlines were heralded in these parts and painstaking attention given to their horses. More brood mares and foals were out in the pasture and Joseph waited in the lean-to they’d built for foaling.

As for Jack, Karin spotted his shadowy figure inside the farthest stall. He’d bridled his mount and looped its reins around one of the stout poles joined to the wide beams overhead. His back to her, he curried a magnificent strawberry roan stallion, its chestnut coat heavily mixed with gray. The horse snatched hay from the manger and stood quietly, seemingly good-natured and well-trained.

How on earth did he come by such a superb mount? Karin had no more opportunity to wonder, and it wasn’t the stallion she kept close watch on as she approached the two, unsure what Jack might say or do.

“Mister McCray!”  She was careful not to take him by surprise as she’d done last night, ready to turn and race back outside in an instant if need be.

Jack turned his head, eyes narrowed beneath his hat. Tension ran the length of his jaw. She faltered at the anger in his face. He must still be vexed with her grandfather; possibly with her too. Uncertain, she said, “Jack?”

A smile turned up the corners of his drawn mouth, making him appear even more youthful and less like a hardened frontiersman. “So, you’ve come. I figured John McNeal would hold you prisoner before ever letting you go off with me.”

Maybe he should have. Karin stepped nearer to Jack, the hay cushioning her shoes. “Grandpa can be prevailed upon by your bonnie mother.”

He paused, the brush in his hand. “And you?”

Karin shifted from one damp sole to the other and ran her tongue over her lips. “Perhaps.”

His smile widened. “Come and meet Peki.” He opened the short stall door.

She hesitated outside the narrow space.

“You’re not afraid, are you?”

“Not of the horse.”

Jack chuckled. “I’ll be on my best behavior.”

“For a warrior or a soldier?”

“Myself.”

Keeping her eyes on his broad back, she said, “I’m not sure if that’s good or bad.”

“Come discover.”

She slipped inside the pen bedded with clean straw and turned almost in awe at the horse towering above her. She patted his sleek neck. “He’s beautiful. You could start a new line with him.”

“Yes. He’s the finest I’ve ever known. But God help me, Karin, so are you.”

A current charged through her at his words and the emotion behind them. She swiveled, lifting her eyes to the intensity in his. “Why do you need the Lord’s help?”

“You have no idea,” he said huskily.~

The Bearwalker’s Daughter is a historical romance novel interwoven with an intriguing paranormal thread, set among the clannish Scots in the mist-shrouded Alleghenies. The story is similar to others of mine with a colonial frontier flavor (Red Bird’s Song, Through the Fire, The Lady and the Warrior) and also features Native American characters. My passion for the past, and some of the accounts I’ve come across while researching my early American ancestors and the Shawnee Indians, is at the heart of the inspiration behind this novel, available at Amazon kindle for the sweet price of .99.

***For more authors participating in Sweet Saturday Samples Click HERE.

Sweet Saturday Snippet from Paranormal Romance Somewhere My Lass (New)


From Chapter Five:

The sidewalk outside Fergus’ townhouse

Mora leaned into Neil’s support. “These police, be they soldiers?”

“Yes, in a way.” What were police called in Scotland? Bobbies, or was that only England? Guards, maybe.

Sassenach,” she hissed, a Scottish term he vaguely remembered as meaning outlander; one he hoped she wasn’t applying to him.

Through the wool plaid cloaking her, he felt the soft warmth of her body, marveling again that she was flesh and blood. She seemed to belong in another realm, an ephemeral being that might vanish with the dawn, though her anger at the hospital had been tangible enough.

Mora trembled in his arms as another gust of wind shook them both. “We’ll soon have you out of the cold and you can lie down.”

She waved her hand at their surroundings. “’Tisn’t the chill or m’ head that vexes me so much as  all this.” She tilted her face up at him. “I do not ken,” she said, using the Scottish dialect for understand and do not sounding like doo na.

The perplexity in her eyes made Neil want to hold her all the more and sooth away all her fear and confusion, if that were possible. He only just refrained from clutching her to his chest. “I’m sorry. You’ll feel better after a rest.”

Even a small American town like Staunton must seem very strange in comparison to what she knew, or thought she did. Given her peculiar state, it was difficult to say. “Easy. Let’s get you indoors.” He slowed his pace to accommodate her shorter stride.

Mora gazed up at the street lights. “Sech great torches. How do they light them, wie huge ladders?”

“Electricity.”

“What manner of fuel be this?”

How could she not know? “Perhaps you’re accustomed to gas?”

She eyed him as one trying to translate a foreign language. “Sum disorder of the stomak?”

“Uh, no.” Maybe she hailed from some relic of a manor house with oil lamps or actual torches like they used in medieval castles. “Never mind. I’ll explain later.” Or not. He’d probably cause her further confusion.

Fighting to maintain a confident air despite mounting qualms, Neil guided her up the paved walk and brick steps to the narrow landing. A potted chrysanthemum drooped beside the wizened pumpkin smiling in toothless welcome leftover from Halloween. Fergus wasn’t much of a decorator.

Lifting his free hand, Neil banged the knocker on the olive-colored door. “Fergus!”

No answer.

Mora gripped the iron railing with one hand. “Be this an alehouse ye’ve brought me to?”

“Of sorts. We’ll definitely be served refreshments.” Neil hoped she liked coffee. “It’s a townhouse.” What did they call townhouses in the British Isles, semi-detached, or was it attached? Likely it didn’t apply in her case anyway. “My friend, Angus Fergus, lives here.”

“Ah. He’s the tavern keeper, is he?”

“And a great deal more.”

Likely his eccentric business partner/best friend was settled in his favorite recliner with his laptop, tv remote in one hand and his caffeine molecule emblazoned mug in the other. Coffee was a food group to Fergus and one he took seriously. Even so, he might have dozed off in between caffeine highs or was preoccupied with one of his many gadgets.

Neil pressed the buzzer. “Fergus! Open up.”

“Not locked,” came the muffled reply.

Mora shook her head. “He leaves his door unbolted for all to enter at such a late hour. What of thieves? Every barrel of ale will be pilfered and all his cattle carried away.”

“I’ll caution him.” Though where Fergus would keep any cows in this development was questionable. As for the barrels, he’d probably fill them with his favorite specialty coffee.

“He ought to keep watch,” Mora added, clearly shocked at the lax security.

“Indeed.” Neil opened the door and ushered Mora into the living room, a catchall for Fergus’ beloved electronics. Techie magazines, comics, and the remains of fast-food meals littered the beige carpet.

Fergus didn’t look up from the leather upholstery. As usual, he was absorbed in his laptop. “Hail Caesar,” he said, offhandedly.

“Whyever does he call ye by sech a name?”

At Mora’s heavily accented query, Fergus arched his neck and peered up at them through the retro fifties glasses he didn’t really need. Fergus was all about Geek as the new kewl and more boyish looking than his actual age of twenty-four, further enhanced by his slender build. He had a quirky appeal, Neil supposed, but wasn’t exactly a babe magnet.

Fergus widened pale blue eyes and his reddish eyebrows rose above the thick black rims. “Who the—”

Neil could have said, “Mary Queen of Scots,” and Fergus wouldn’t have commented. Not the way he goggled at Mora.

The remote slipped from his usually nimble fingers. “Holy mother of—Neil what in the h—” Without finishing his exclamation, Fergus sat upright and straightened the recliner with a thump.

Mora must think Fergus couldn’t complete a sentence, while nothing could be further from the truth. It amused Neil to see his normally articulate friend so at a loss. Come to think of it, Fergus was never at a loss. Until now.

He set the mug on the end table and his laptop on the coffee table stacked with Calvin and Hobbes and Far Side books. Alongside these, virtual jellyfish floated in a purplish mood lamp and an ambient orb device transitioned between a rainbow of hues to show changes in the weather, the time, and most anything else Fergus might want to check the status of. An enormous fan of prime geek websites, Fergus stocked everything a computer nerd could want. But Neil might as well have taken Mora into outer space.

She stared from the suspended jellies and the iridescent sphere back to Fergus. “Magic?” she asked Neil in a whisper.

“Sort of.” Although highly creative, Neil wasn’t nearly as taken with techie gadgets as Fergus, preferring to lose himself in his art. But together, they made a great team. Fergus was even like a younger brother. Neil swept his hand at their gaping host. “Fergus, meet Mora Campbell, recently arrived from Scotland.”

“Seriously?” Fergus got to his feet in Star Wars Jedi slippers.

“Seriously.” Neil wasn’t certain how much information to give out about Mora and the old country of Scotland she seemed to hail from.

Eyes still dazed, Mora nodded. “Most serious. ’Tis a grave matter that brings us to ye, sir. I am betrothed to Neil, son of Robert MacKenzie.”

Fergus combed his fingers through a thatch of orange hair, a not so subtle tribute to cartoon character Bart Simpson. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he worked his clean-shaven jaw. Bart had no stubble and Fergus was a purist. “Dude—you’re engaged? Some online dating thing?”

“No. And it’s a long story.” Not one Neil was privy to the details of, which made sharing them a challenge. Not to mention Fergus would think he’d gone nuts. “Mora’s suffered a concussion and needs to rest. My house is off limits just now,” he explained instead.

She crinkled that adorable nose dusted with freckles. “Sassenach are come. We only just escaped from a vile chamber called a hospitale. There were no holy men at their prayers,” she added in a shocked tone. “No sacred Communion dispensed. How could sech a place care for poor and dying wretches of this world?”

Fergus considered, briefly. “How indeed?” He eyed Neil for an explanation he was unable to provide.

However, Mora appeared satisfied with Fergus’s response, at least as much as one who thought she’d fallen down a rabbit hole could. “If ye would be so good as to make provision for us this night, Mr. Fergus, and might I trouble ye for a ladies’ maid?”

“Sure,” he stuttered, regarding her as though she’d requested a meeting with a deceased saint. He angled a pronounced glance at Neil in a silent request for suggestions. He had none.

Fergus fished around in that quick mind of his and came up with, “I’ll call my cousin, Wrenie. She’s kind of a maid. Waitress, anyway. I’ll see if she’s free.”

“Is the poor lass imprisoned?”

Fergus rubbed his fingers over his chin. “Uh, not the last time I checked. Although the fashion police have a warrant out for her.”

Before Mora reacted to this wisecrack, a large plasma screen TV snarled at them in surround-sound and reverberated off the walls.

She startled against Neil and raised a trembling finger. For a moment she stared mutely, and then said, “A murderous beast—there—in that box.”

Neil glimpsed the polar bear from a popular TV series. “It’s just the television. Telly,” he amended, in hopes of sparking a glimmer of recognition.

Nothing. So much for Mora having watched nature shows, or anything else for that matter. Had she been totally cut off from civilization? How’d she make it through life without ever seeing a television?

He tried a different track. “Only a picture.”

“But it moves. ’Tis haunted, that portrait.”

Fergus hit the off button on the remote. “Dude, she’s better than the sci-fi channel.”

She is the sci-fi channel, Neil thought.

“Why does the Fergus address you as duke?”

How could Neil explain slang, he pondered, enjoying her spin on Fergus’ name. “It’s only an honorary title.”

“Yer friend must respect ye greatly.”

Fergus swept his thin arm down across a T-shirt that read, Go ahead, make my data, with a courtly flourish. “Inestimably. Come on, Neil. You two are in a play, right? Some community theater thing?”~

“Ms. Trissel masterfully blended the past and the present in order to create a lovely romance that spans centuries.” ~Poinsettia, Long and Short Reviews

**Somewhere My Lass is available from The Wild Rose Press, Amazon Kindle, Barnes & Noble’s Nookbook, and other online booksellers.

***To Visit More Authors Participating in Sweet Saturday Samples Click Here.

While You’re Eating All that Valentine’s Day Chocolate–


I’ll share with you about my light paranormal romance  ‘Somewhere’ series and the inspiration behind it~

300

Death can not stop true love, it can only delay it for a little while.” – The Princess Bride

Time Travel, Ghosts, and Reincarnation.  Sacred relics and star-crossed lovers. Fantasy, mystery, magic, and above all romance…

“Know that love is truly timeless.” ~Author  Mary M. Ricksen

The idea behind my `Somewhere series’ is that the story opens in an old home, so far Virginia, and then transports the reader back in time either in the same old house or another place entirely, such as the Scottish Highlands.   As is the case in Somewhere My Lass and the sequel I’m at work on via a portal in time.   All of which is inspired by my fascination with the past. The unifying characteristic of the series is the paranormal/time travel element, but the stories themselves aren’t necessarily tied together.

300I came up with the idea about 4-5 years ago while watching one of my favorite British mysteries, Midsomer Murders.  I enjoy the historic setting of these modern-day mysteries, but especially when the story flashes back to an even earlier time in an old manor house or church to get to the root of the mystery.  So I thought, why not incorporate that with my love of romance and history.

“Man … can go up against gravitation in a balloon, and why should he not hope that ultimately he may be able to stop or accelerate his drift along the Time-Dimension, or even turn about and travel the other way.”~ H.G. WELLS, The Time Machine

“Once confined to fantasy and science fiction, time travel is now simply an engineering problem.” ~ MICHIO KAKUWired Magazine, Aug. 2003

SOMEWHERE MY LOVE:

Star-crossed lovers have a rare chance to reclaim the love cruelly denied them in the past, but can they grasp this brief window in time before it is too late? Newly arrived at Foxleigh, the gracious old Wentworth home in Virginia, British born Julia Morrow is excited at the prospect of a summer working as a guide in the stately house and herb garden.

She quickly discovers the historic plantation holds far more. She becomes obsessed with the portrait of handsome Cole Wentworth, killed in a quarrel over the lovely English lady, Julia Maury, two hundred years ago. Then she meets his double, William, the only remaining Wentworth heir. Somehow, Julia must persuade Will that their fates are entwined with those of Cole Wentworth and Julia Maury, and that the man who killed his ancestor has returned to enact the deadly cycle again, or she will lose him twice. The blade is about to fall.~

SOMEWHERE MY LASS:

Neil MacKenzie’s well-ordered life turns to chaos when Mora Campbell shows up claiming he’s her fiancé from 1602 Scotland. Her avowal that she was chased to the future by clan chieftain, Red MacDonald, is utter nonsense, and Neil must convince her that she is just addled from a blow to her head–or so he believes until the MacDonald himself shows up wanting blood.

Mora knows the Neil of the future is truly her beloved Niall who disappeared from the past. Although her kinsmen believe he’s dead, and she is now destined to marry Niall’s brother, she’s convinced that if she and Neil return to the past, all will be right. The only problem is how to get back to 1602 before it’s too late.

The balance of the present and future are in peril if she marries another, and the Neil of the present will cease to exist. An ancient relic and a few good friends in the future help pave the way back to the past, but will Mora and Neil be too late to save a love that began centuries before?~

300SOMEWHERE THE BELLS RING: (My Recent Release)

Caught with pot in her dorm room, Bailey Randolph is exiled to a relative’s ancestral home in Virginia to straighten herself out. Banishment to Maple Hill is dismal, until a ghost appears requesting her help. Bailey is frightened but intrigued. Then her girlhood crush, Eric Burke, arrives and suddenly Maple Hill isn’t so bad.

To Eric, wounded in Vietnam, his military career shattered, this homecoming feels no less like exile. But when he finds Bailey at Maple Hill, her fairy-like beauty gives him reason to hope–until she tells him about the ghost haunting the house. Then he wonders if her one experiment with pot has made her crazy.

As Bailey and Eric draw closer, he agrees to help her find a long-forgotten Christmas gift the ghost wants. But will the magic of Christmas be enough to make Eric believe–in Bailey and the ghost–before the Christmas bells ring?

My books are available at The Wild Rose Press, Amazon, Barnes &Noble and other online booksellers


2008 Golden Heart® Finalist
2008 Winner Preditor’s & Editor’s Readers Poll
Publisher’s Weekly BHB Reader’s Choice Best Books of 2009 
2010 Best Romance Novel List at Buzzle!
Won Book of the Week Five Times At LASR