Tag Archives: Emily Bronte

Author Jerri Hines with Ghostly Regency Romance Daughter of Deceit


“The murdered do haunt their murderers, I believe. I know that ghosts have wandered on earth. Be with me always — take any form — drive me mad! Only do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you!”

EMILY BRONTE, Wuthering Heights

Welcome Jerri.  I’m also a big fan of Wuthering Heights, did a blog post on it, and I’ve written several ghostly romances in my ‘Somewhere’ series, so we have much in common.  Your new story sounds most intriguing.

And now, back to Jerri.

Thanks Beth.  Most authors are influenced in their writings by their values and beliefs. We are likely to reflect our perspective into our words which will affect the way the reader will relate our story. It should come as no surprise that our own experiences influence our writings. So the question would have to be asked if you one writes a paranormal book, where does one gather experience to write a ghost story?

The answer to me is quite simple…a vivid imagination. Being an avid reader, I love to immerse myself in books and transport myself into a different world. Some books stay with you such as Wuthering Heights, one of my favorite books.  I can still visualize Catherine as a misguided soul wandering the moors searching for what she lost.

Ghost stories are meant to scare. Admit it- we all love a ghost story. So is it the fear and the thrill that attracts us to books with paranormal elements? Ghosts are an unexplained occurrences, but in some aspect I believe we empathize with these lost souls. Most would agree if ghost do exists they are lost souls searching for an answer.  So can spirits cross back over from the other side? Are they searching for closure? Good or malevolent? With purpose or simply lost?

The thought sparked a question within me. Would justice be served if a person could reach beyond the grave to right a wrong?

Daughter of Deceit is a story about forbidden love. Set in Regency England, Lord Julian Casvelyn has long lived with the guilt brought on by the murder of his brother by the hands of England’s most notorious traitor. Alyce Hythe is the daughter of that man who is bent on clearing her father’s name, but strange things have been happening to Alyce causing rumors to be whispered of mystic ghosts.

Blurb: Someone wants Alyce Hythe dead…

Shunned from London society for being the daughter of England’s most notorious spy, Alyce Hythe desires only to clear her father’s name. For years, she has been hidden away from all prying eyes, given a new identity and told to forget who she was. But strange things have been happening causing old rumors to once more be whispered.

Long has Lord Julian Casvelyn lived with guilt brought on when his brother was murdered by England’s most infamous traitor. But one eventful night has changed everything Lord Julian believed about his brother’s death. Never did he suspect the woman he has just saved from certain harm is the daughter of that man. Now Julian is caught in midst of a conspiracy and desire for that woman.

Thrown together by fate, the two search for answers long denied them and along the way discover a love that can free them both.

Excerpt:

Thankful indeed she could breathe again at least for a moment. She turned to stand by Lissa, but instead she froze upon the sight. The last person she ever expected to see this night stood in front of her.

She froze in her spot. His wide mouth curved into a vague smile which could easily turn hard she suspected. He looked quite striking, handsome and elegant in his crisp black and white evening clothes. His dark eyes darkened intensely upon her. Before she had a chance to protest, his arm gripped her elbow firmly.

“Oh, no, my dear, I think not,” his utterance carried a hard edge which startled her. “I have long tried to gain an audience with you and have been reputed one way or another. If you choose to make a scene, it will not bode well for you. You may have been hiding in the nest of the Arungdon, but I can guarantee you that legally you are still the ward of my grandfather and I…”

“Please, Lord Casvelyn, you do not have to resort to threats,” she turned her head to see if any other’s attention lay upon them, but none seemed interested. Her gaze shifted back to him. “What, pray, could you have to talk to me? Charles did send his appreciation for you saving me. He assured me he had taken care of the situation and the magistrate…”

“Come. Come. Miss Rufford…or should I say Hythe. I believe there is much we could talk of.”

She glanced back over her shoulder as he edged her along beside him. “Where are you taking me? It will not be proper…”

He cut her words short. “No one will see, I can assure you. I have arranged how I can I say this a few minutes where we will not be disrupted. Then you can rush back to your lordship.”

She watched Lord Casvelyn nod to a man in front of him, a tall man tawny hair and blue eyes. The man nodded back. Immediately, she felt herself being flung into a side door, closing tightly behind her. She could only imagine why Lord Casvelyn thought it necessary to have a guard at the door.

The room was small, quaint in appearance. There was no fire lit nor candle only the moonlit shone in light. He gestured to her to sit upon a settee. She hesitated, but then complied. To her dismay he sat beside her.

She found it difficult to catch a breath with him so near. He stared at her in a manner which made her remember all too well being in his arms with his lips upon hers.

“Now will you please explain yourself so I can rejoin Charles.”

“Ah, yes, the love of your life. I have heard. Unfortunately, I tend to doubt your proclamation of feelings.”

She stared at him and he returned it. He sat close to her, too close. She scooted back but he moved, allowing only her a scant space between her and this man who made her skin shiver with just his touch. “How dare you,” she uttered under her breath. “You don’t know me. Charles and I love each other greatly…”

“Do you?” he asked in a low voice. “Are you in the habit of sharing kisses with another while in the deep throbs of love for another? Come. Do not think I have forgotten having you in my arms. Kissing you, touching you…if not interrupted, perhaps it would have lead to more than…”

She slapped him, hard, and attempted to rise. He thwarted her with his two strong hands, pulling her down to him.

“You are no gentleman!”

“Perhaps,” he answered her, but his voice softened. “Perhaps.”

His hands released her back to her seat. What did he do to her that made her act as if she had not a reasonable thought in her head?~

 

***Daughter of Deceit at Amazon

Jerri Hines (Carrie James Haynes)

Castles in the Air Blog:

Jerri’s Blog

Facebook Fanpage- Novel Works

Twitter: @jhines340   or @CarrieJHaynes

Nature is a writer’s best friend ~Agavé Powers


I thank you God for this most amazing day, for the leaping greenly spirits of trees, and for the blue dream of sky and for everything which is natural, which is infinite, which is yes.  ~ e.e. cummings

The poetry of the earth is never dead.  ~John Keats

To sit in the shade on a fine day and look upon verdure is the most perfect refreshment.  ~Jane Austen

Autumn, the year’s last, loveliest smile.
~William Cullen Bryant

There is a pleasure in the pathless woods,
There is a rapture on the lonely shore,
There is society, where none intrudes,
By the deep sea, and music in its roar:
I love not man the less, but Nature more.
~George Gordon, Lord Byron, Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage

I only went out for a walk and finally concluded to stay out till sundown, for going out, I found, was really going in.  ~John Muir

Man’s heart away from nature becomes hard.  ~Standing Bear

I love to think of nature as an unlimited broadcasting station, through which God speaks to us every hour, if we will only tune in.  ~George Washington Carver

The human spirit needs places where nature has not been rearranged by the hand of man.  ~Author Unknown

You can’t be suspicious of a tree, or accuse a bird or a squirrel of subversion or challenge the ideology of a violet.  ~Hal Borland

Everybody needs beauty as well as bread, places to play in and pray in, where nature may heal and give strength to body and soul.  ~John Muir

Some keep the Sabbath going to Church,
I keep it staying at Home –
With a bobolink for a Chorister,
And an Orchard, for a Dome.
~Emily Dickinson

Great things are done when men and mountains meet.  This is not done by jostling in the street.  ~William Blake

Fieldes have eies and woods have eares.  ~John Heywood, 1565

Those who dwell among the beauties and mysteries of the earth are never alone or weary of life.  ~Rachel Carson

Climb up on some hill at sunrise.  Everybody needs perspective once in a while, and you’ll find it there.  ~Robb Sagendorph

Nature is the art of God.  ~Thomas Browne

Earth’s crammed with heaven,
And every common bush afire with God;
~Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Every leaf speaks bliss to me,
Fluttering from the autumn tree.
~Emily Bronte

The morns are meeker than they were,
The nuts are getting brown;
The berry’s cheek is plumper,
The rose is out of town.
The maple wears a gayer scarf,
The field a scarlet gown.
Lest I should be old-fashioned,
I’ll put a trinket on.
Emily Dickinson
Nature XXVII, Autumn.

Autumn’s the mellow time.
~William Allingham

“Truths and Roses”~


“Love is much like a wild rose, beautiful and calm, but willing to draw blood in its defense.” ~Mark Overby

“You are responsible, forever, for what you have tamed. You are responsible for your rose.”

~Antoine de Saint-Exupery

“Life is a rose; beware of the thorns.”

“Beauty without virtue is like a rose without scent.”

~Proverb Quote

“How did it happen that their lips came together? How does it happen that birds sing, that snow melts, that the rose unfolds, that the dawn whitens behind the stark shapes of trees on the quivering summit of the hill? A kiss, and all was said.”

~ Victor Hugo

“The fragrance always remains in the hand that gives the rose.”

“Love is like a rose. It looks beautiful on the outside…but there is always pain hidden somewhere.”

“Do not watch the petals fall from the rose with sadness, know that, like life, things sometimes must fade, before they can bloom again.”

“The splendor of the rose and the whitness of the lily do not rob the little violet of it’s scent nor the daisy of its simple charm. If every tiny flower wanted to be a rose, spring would lose its lovliness.”

~Therese of Lisieux

“The rose is a flower of love. The world has acclaimed it for centuries. Pink roses are for love hopeful and expectant. White roses are for love dead or forsaken, but the red roses, ah the red roses are for love triumphant.”

“He who wants a rose must respect the thorn.” Persian Proverb

“If I had a rose for every time I thought of you, I’d be picking roses for a lifetime.” Swedish Proverb

“Slow buds the pink dawn like a rose From out night’s gray and cloudy sheath; Softly and still it grows and grows, Petal by petal, leaf by leaf.” Susan Coolidge

Their lips were four red roses on a stalk. ~William Shakespeare

The red rose whispers of passion,
And the white rose breathes of love;
O, the red rose is a falcon,
And the white rose is a dove.
-~John Boyle O’Reilly

And I will make thee beds of roses
And a thousand fragrant posies.
~Christopher Marlowe

The rose that lives its little hour
Is prized beyond the sculptured flower.
~Bryant

Here bloom red roses, dewy wet,
And beds of fragrant mignonette.
~Elaine Goodale

The rose is fairest when ’tis budding new,
And hope is brightest when it dawns from fears.
– Sir Walter Scott

She wore a wreath of roses,
The night that first we met.
~Thos. Haynes Bayly

We can complain because rose bushes have thorns,
or rejoice because thorn bushes have roses.
Abraham Lincoln

This old world that we’re livin’ in
Is might hard to beat.
You get a thorn with every Rose
But – ain’t the roses sweet?
Frank StantonI’d rather have roses on my table than diamonds on my neck.
~Emma Goldman

God gave us our memories so that we might have roses in December.
~J. M. Barrie

“You are beautiful, but you are empty. One could not die for you. To be sure, an ordinary passerby would think that my rose looked just like you–the rose that belongs to me. But in herself alone she is more important than all the hundreds of you other roses: because it is she that I have watered.” ~Antoine de Saint-Exupery

“Love is like the wild rose-briar;
Friendship like the holly-tree.
The holly is dark when the rose-briar blooms,
But which will bloom most constantly?”

~Emily Bronte

They are not, the days of wine and roses:
Out of a misty dream,
Our path emerges for a while, then closes,
Within a dream.”~Ernest Dowson

And she was fair as is the rose in May.” ~Geoffrey Chaucer

“Truths and roses have thorns about them.” ~Henry David Thoreau

Wuthering Heights~As Promised~


I’ve LONG been an enormous fan of Emily Bronte’s Wuthering Heights, that dark, powerful, hauntingly beautiful romance.  My favorite lines are uttered by Catherine:

“Nelly, I am Heathcliff! He’s always, always in my mind: not as a pleasure, any more than I am always a pleasure to myself, but as my own being.”
– Emily Bronte, Wuthering Heights, Ch. 9

“If all else perished, and he remained, I should still continue to be; and if all else remained, and he were annihilated, the universe would turn to a mighty stranger: I should not seem a part of it.”
– Emily Bronte, Wuthering Heights, Ch. 9

But there are many other fabulous lines in this brilliant novel.  One of the most famous uttered by Heathcliff:

“‘And I pray one prayer–I repeat it till my tongue stiffens–Catherine Earnshaw, may you not rest as long as I am living; you said I killed you–haunt me, then! The murdered DO haunt their murderers, I believe. I know that ghosts HAVE wandered on earth. Be with me always–take any form–drive me mad! only DO not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you! Oh, God! it is unutterable! I CANNOT live without my life! I CANNOT live without my soul!'”
– Emily Bronte, Wuthering Heights, Ch. 16  ~ Heathcliff

I break my heart for Heathcliff.  At least he and Catherine are together in the end, I have no doubt.

I’ve included an excellent review of Wuthering Heights below:

A Drama Ahead of Its Time

When Emily Bronte’s Wuthering Heights was first published in 1847, under the name of Ellis Bell, it received mixed reviews. Although some critics saw the potential evident in the cyclical plot and other literary devices, many others were shocked and dismayed by the unashamedly dark storyline.

To be sure, Wuthering Heights was a very different book than what was generally considered acceptable during that era. In direct contrast to Emily Bronte’s novel, Susannah Rowson’s Charlotte Temple (1828) tells the story of a young lady who permits her beau to steal her away in the middle of the night. Predictably, he impregnates her and then abandons her, after which she dies of a broken heart. As was common in novels of the era, Charlotte Temple used a fictional story to instruct its readers–primarily young ladies–in what was expected of them. 

In Wuthering Heights, one of the main female characters dies of what could also be considered a broken heart, but the effect is a very different one from that of Charlotte Temple. Instead of presenting an overly sentimental worst-case scenario meant to frighten its readers onto the straight-and-narrow, Wuthering Heights seduces its readers with its dark passion and misguided characters. Both Heathcliff and Catherine are flawed characters, but their flaws intrigue the reader just as surely as they repel. If there is any lesson to be learned in Catherine’s death, it is the folly of denying your heart’s greatest passion–a mistake completely at odds with the cause of Charlotte Temple’s downfall.

Controversy & Obscurity: Wuthering Heights
Due to the novel’s tumultuous passion, the book received a mixture of responses. Eventually, those who were scandalized by the book’s inappropriateness won out, and Emily Bronte’s only novel was buried in literary obscurity. Decades later, when Wuthering Heights was revived by the interest of modern scholars, the unique literary devices used in the work began to earn more attention than its soap opera-like tale of obsession and loss. 

Although the second part of the novel–the part that chiefly concerns Catherine and Heathcliff’s respective children–is frequently overlooked in retellings and screen adaptations, many contemporary critics believe it holds the key to Emily Bronte’s real literary genius. The first generation of children–Catherine, her brother Hindley, and the gypsy child Heathcliff–had led miserable lives, and both Catherine and Hindley died young as payment for their misguided passions. As a result of Heathcliff’s scheming prior to Hindley’s death, he has inherited the Earnshaw home, as well as the care of Hindley’s son, Hareton. After the death of Heathcliff’s estranged wife–Catherine’s husband’s sister, his own son, Linton, comes to live with him as well, setting in motion his final push for revenge.

Generations: Wuthering Heights
The highlight of the second part of the book is when Heathcliff effectively kidnaps Catherine’s daughter, who is called Cathy. With the three children now all under one roof, the latter half of the book parallels the beginning, when Catherine, Hindley, and Heathcliff were all children together in the same house. However, whether by a twist of fate or Heathcliff’s mistreatment of the boy, Hareton’s demeanor and place in the household resembles Healthcliff’s childhood persona more than that of his own father, while Linton is so weak and sickly that he is the perfect opposite of Heathcliff. 

Despite the clear similarities to the old rivalries, though, the children begin to converge, rather than to follow in the footsteps of their parents. Maddened by a desire for revenge, Heathcliff attempts to play them against one another, forcing Cathy to marry Linton so that he may inherit the neighboring property that belongs to his rival, Catherine’s widower. Linton dies soon after. After Heathcliff’s own death, the tale comes full circle: the estates return to their rightful heirs, Hareton and the younger Cathy fall in love, and Heathcliff’s legacy of revenge disappears almost without a trace.

Despite its early reception, the combination of unbridled passion and a complex storytelling form makes Wuthering Heights a favorite in many modern literary circles. The darkness of the story and the lack of accompanying moral teachings shocked many of its contemporaries, while the intricacies of the cyclical plot–the destruction and ultimate reunification of the families–were overlooked until recent decades. A novel that combines masterful literary devices with all of the scandals of a soap opera, Emily Bronte’s Wuthering Heights was a drama far ahead of its time.
****
I was particularly taken with the 2009 Wuthering Heights production but there are many excellent versions of this timeless classic.

A lovely tribute to the film:

Another beautiful Collection of Film Clips:

True Love


‘Hope is like a harebell trembling from its birth. Love is like a rose the joy of all the earth, Faith is like a lily lifted high and white, Love is like a lovely rose the world’s delight. Harebells and sweet lilies show a thornless growth, But the rose with all its thorns excels them BOTH.’ ~ Christina Rossetti

“Sweet flowers alone can say what passion fears revealing.” ~ Thomas Moore~

“You don’t marry someone you can live with – you marry the person who you cannot live without.”~ unknown


“Know that I love you Tristan. Wherever you go, whatever you see. I will always be with you.”  Tristan and Isolde

“Life has taught us that love does not consist in gazing at each other but in looking outward together in the same direction.”
~Saint-Exupery

“Love cures people – both the ones who give it and the ones who receive it.”
~Dr. Karl Menninger

“A kiss is a lovely trick designed by nature to stop speech when words become superfluous.”
~Ingrid Bergman

“My bounty is as boundless as the sea,
My love as deep; the more I give to thee,
The more I have, for both are infinite.” ~ Juliet to Romeo

“O! she doth teach the torches to burn bright.
It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night
Like a rich jewel in an Ethiop‘s ear;
Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear.” ~
Romeo speaking of Juliet


“One fairer than my love? The all-seeing sun
Ne’er saw her match since first the world begun.”
~ Romeo

“I know not how to tell thee who I am. My name, dear saint, is hateful to myself, because it’s an enemy to thee.” ~ Romeo

“If I profane with my unworthiest hand this holy shrine, the gentle sin is this:

My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand

To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.”
—Romeo in his first words to Juliet while taking her hand

But, soft! What light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.” ~ Romeo when he sees Juliet on the balcony

O blessed, blessed night! I am afeard.
Being in night, all this is but a dream,
Too flattering-sweet to be substantial.” ~ ROMEO

“See, how she leans her cheek upon her hand!
O that I were a glove upon that hand,
That I might touch that cheek!”
—Romeo watching Juliet at her window

“With love’s light wings did I o’er-perch these walls; For stony limits cannot hold love out, And what love can do that dares love attempt.”
~Romeo, when Juliet asks how he managed to get over the high wall to Capulet‘s garden


“O Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo?
Deny thy father and refuse thy name;
Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love,
And I’ll no longer be a Capulet.” ~Juliet

“What’s in a name? That which we call a rose, by any other word would smell as sweet.” ~Juliet

“This bud of love, by summer’s ripening breath, May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet.” – Juliet

“He jests at scars that never felt a wound.”
—Romeo, after his friend Mercutio scoffs at him for being in love

“Is love a tender thing? It is too rough,
Too rude, too boist’rous; and it pricks like thorn.” ~ Romeo

“Did my heart love till now? Forswear it, sight! For I ne’er saw true beauty till this night.” ~ Romeo

“Good Night, Good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow, that I shall say good night till it be morrow.” ~ Juliet

“Give me my Romeo, and, when he shall die,
Take him and cut him out in little stars,
And he will make the face of heaven so fine
That all the world will be in love with night,
And pay no worship to the garish sun.”

~ Juliet as she waits for Romeo to come to her on their wedding night

“Wilt thou be gone? it is not yet near day:
It was the nightingale, and not the lark,
That pierced the fearful hollow of thine ear.” Juliet, trying to delay Romeo’s departure after their secret wedding night.

“Night’s candles are burnt out, and jocund day

Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain-tops.”
~Romeo

*That first wedding morning was the last time they saw each other alive.  Sadly, this is a tragedy and you know where we’re going.  Sigh.

“Eyes, look your last!
Arms, take your last embrace! and, lips, O you
The doors of breath, seal with a righteous kiss
A dateless bargain to engrossing death!”
—Romeo, thinking Juliet is dead, bids his farewell to her with a kiss.

*Poor Romeo–in hiding since he murdered Juliet’s cousin who killed his best friend–didn’t get that vital letter apprising him of her pretend death to escape a forced marriage at her parent’s hands and be with him.  And when Juliet wakes up in the creepy family crypt, the cowardly friar ran off and left her to discover Romeo slumped beside her poisoned, which leads to her tragic end at the point of his dagger.

As you can see, I’m a huge Romeo and Juliet fan, and never will there be a more perfect Juliet than Olivia Hussey.   Such a profoundly beautiful and tragic romance.  All the what if’s and if only’s prompted me to revise the ending to that timeless classic in my mind many times.

The 1968 production of Romeo and Juliet is partly  responsible for my having written two light paranormal romances with a reincarnation theme in which the hero and heroine get another chance.  The impact of that film on me was profound.  I was only slightly younger than Juliet’s tender age and badly wanted her and Romeo to be together, to have a second chance. Maybe they did.   Only Shakespeare can say.  Either way, wherever they are and the many couples like them, I hope they’re together in the next world.

As the play concludes, these immortal lines are uttered:

“A glooming peace this morning with it brings;
The sun, for sorrow, will not show his head
Go hence, to have more talk of these sad things;
Some shall be pardon’d, and some punished:
For never was a story of more woe
Than this of Juliet and her Romeo.”
—Prince Escalus

“I never knew how to worship until I knew how to love.”
~Henry Ward Beecher

“True love is like ghosts, which everybody talks about and few have seen.”

~La Rochefoucauld

“Who ever loved that loved not at first sight?” ~ Christopher Marlowe

“Tell me whom you love and I will tell you who you are.” ~ Houssaye

“A very small degree of hope is sufficient to cause the birth of love.”
~Stendhal

“There is no remedy for love but to love more.”
~Thoreau

“Some love lasts a lifetime. True love lasts forever.” ~ Unknown

“Spread love everywhere you go: first of all in your own house. Give love to your children, to your wife or husband, to a next door neighbor… Let no one ever come to you without leaving better and happier. Be the living expression of God’s kindness; kindness in your face, kindness in your eyes, kindness in your smile, kindness in your warm greeting.”
~Mother Theresa

“Love is like the wild rose-briar;

Friendship like the holly-tree.

The holly is dark when the rose-briar blooms,

But which will bloom most constantly?” ~ Emily Bronte

Trailer below for my light paranormal romance Somewhere My Love below, published in 2008 by

The Wild Rose Press.

Spectacular Autumn Day


nearToddLake5
“Autumn burned brightly, a running flame
through the mountains,
a torch flung to the trees.

IMG_6045
“The morns are meeker than they were,
The nuts are getting brown;
The berry’s cheek is plumper,
The rose is out of town.
The maple wears a gayer scarf,
The field a scarlet gown.
Lest I should be old-fashioned,
I’ll put a trinket on.”
~ Emily Dickinson
Nature XXVII, Autumn

Fall pic 2009
“In the other gardens
And all up the vale,
From the autumn bonfires
See the smoke trail!
Pleasant summer over
And all the summer flowers,
The red fire blazes,
The grey smoke towers.
Sing a song of seasons!
Something bright in all!
Flowers in the summer,
Fires in the fall!”
~ Robert Louis Stevenson
Autumn Fires.

Oct2009

“Everyone must take time to sit and watch
the leaves turn.”
Elizabeth Lawrence

IMG_5972

“October is a symphony of permanence and change.”
Bonaro W. Overstreet

This One

“Every leaf speaks bliss to me,
Fluttering from the autumn tree.”
~Emily Bronte

Elise and her pumpkin
“October is a symphony of permanence
and change.” ~Bonaro W. Overstreet

“falling leaves
hide the path
so quietly” ~
John Bailey
Autumn, A Haiku Year.


Fall Bridge

IMG_6006
Pics by my mom, Pat Churchman, daughter Elise,
(with her heirloom pumpkin, Cinderella), and my husband.