Summary:
Journey back in time to Tudor England with a tale of
romance, intrigue, and the Celtic legends of the selkies.
Will Somers has spent his life alone, thinking himself unlovable.
Emma is a selkie, one of the immortal fae-folk of the sea. When Will finds her
sleeping on the beach, he seizes this unexpected chance to have a wife and
family of his own. He steals her pelt, binding her to him until the day he
willingly returns it.
Emma has never experienced life on land, and can barely
contain her excitement and curiosity. She has to learn to adapt quickly to
human customs, for Will is headed to the glittering, dangerous court of Henry
VIII to serve as the king’s royal fool. It’s a world where a careless word can
lead to the scaffold, and the smallest of gestures is loaded with political
implications.
Anne Boleyn is charmed by Emma’s naiveté and soothing selkie magic, and wants Emma for her own fool. Can Will protect her from the dangers which lurk in every shadow? Theirs is a vocation that provides them some protection, but in Henry VIII’s court, no one is safe. Circa regna tonat: Around the throne, the thunder rolls.
Anne Boleyn is charmed by Emma’s naiveté and soothing selkie magic, and wants Emma for her own fool. Can Will protect her from the dangers which lurk in every shadow? Theirs is a vocation that provides them some protection, but in Henry VIII’s court, no one is safe. Circa regna tonat: Around the throne, the thunder rolls.
Excerpt:
“Your
majesty, Lady Pembroke, Master Richard Fermor and Will Somers.”
“Rise,”
the king said. Will glanced at him quickly. He saw a large, but still muscular
man with thinning reddish-blond hair, dressed in a dark brown velvet doublet,
ornamented with pearls and gold frogs. The king had gained weight in the last
few years and to disguise it, he had widened the shoulders of his surcoats. His
eyes were small, a piercing blue-gray. Will caught a glimpse of them before he
lowered his own eyes to stare at the floor.
“Aye,
your majesty,” Fermor said. “If it pleases your grace.”
“Well,
fool, what can you do?”
Will
was startled. He hadn’t expected the king to actually speak to him. “I – I can
juggle, your majesty,” he croaked. “I can make jests, tumble, and sing a
little.”
“Let
us see it, then.”
Will’s
hands trembled as he withdrew the balls from his bag. “If it pleases your
majesty,” he started. He straightened his shoulders as best he could and said
in his haughtiest tone: “I, Will Somers, am the best juggler in England.”
The
king snorted and Will hoped it was from amusement. He fell into his act,
bragging about his abilities while seeming to lose track of his juggling and
keeping the balls in the air seemingly by accident alone. He was grateful that
he had performed this particular act so many times because he thought he’d
completely forgotten his lines, but they slipped from his mouth of their own
accord and his limbs seemed to move themselves. The king guffawed a couple of
times and he thought her heard Anne laugh at one point. He ended with one of
the balls balanced on the tip of his nose before dropping it into his hands and
sweeping low into a bow.
“Well
done, Master Fool,” the king said, and he seemed a bit more jovial than he had
when Will first entered the room, or perhaps it was simply wishful thinking on
Will’s part. “But tell me this: I have fools already who can juggle and make
jests. Why would I wish to have you at my court? What have you to offer they do
not?”
The
answer popped from Will’s mouth as though he had rehearsed it. “Because I will
do something that none of your council, lords and ladies, ambassadors, servants
nor soothsayers will do.”
The
king lifted an eyebrow. “And what might that be?”
“I
will tell you the truth, your majesty.”
Fermor
gasped. Anne burst into laughter. “Oh, I do like him,” she said.
The
king cast an amused glance at her. “Is that so, Master Fool? Then perhaps you
are worth it after all.”
“But
you must make an oath to me,” Will said.
The
king flushed a little, but calmed when Anne giggled at Will’s audacity. “What?”
“You
must swear it, as the word of a Christian king.” Will’s mouth was as dry as
paper and his heart thudded wildly in his chest, but he continued. “You must
swear to me, on your honor, that you will never hold it against me when I tell
you the truth.”
The
king stared at him, his mouth slightly agape, and then he burst into laughter.
He slapped his knee and elbowed Anne, who laughed politely along with him,
though she obviously didn’t find it as amusing as he did.
“You
have my word,” the king said, as he accepted a perfumed handkerchief from one
of his serving lords to wipe away the tears that had seeped from his eyes. “Or
must I write it out and put my royal seal to it?”
“Your
word is sufficient for me,” Will replied.
“I
am flattered at your trust, Master Fool,” the king said solemnly, and burst
into guffaws once again. “Go and have my steward find you rooms. Have you a
wife?”
“I
do.” Will thought quickly. He had to find a way to keep Emma away from court,
but refusing lodgings offered by the king would be a gross insult.
The
king waved a hand. “Bring her tomorrow. I wish to see what the wife of a fool
looks like.”
“Much
like every other wife in England,” Will said and that sent the king into
laughter once more.
“Go,
and come back on the morrow,” the king said. He waved a hand at the steward.
“Find him some decent garb, and some for Milady Fool as well.”
Will
bowed deeply and followed the steward from the room. “And for you, Fermor,” he
heard the king begin before the door was shut behind them. Will’s knees gave
out and he collapsed to the floor. His head swam in sick circles. He sat back
on his heels and looked up at the steward. “Pray, pardon,” he rasped.
The
steward smiled slightly. “You are not the first to react in such a manner.” He
held out a hand and Will stared at it in surprise. The steward was a lord, and
here he was, offering a hand to a baseborn commoner. Will took it gingerly and
the steward helped him to his feet and drew him near.
“If
ever a man needed to hear the truth,” the steward whispered, “it is that man in
there.” He drew away again and his manner was once more brisk and officious.
“Follow me.”
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Bio:
Lissa Bryan is an astronaut, renowned Kabuki actress,
Olympic pole vault gold medalist, Iron Chef champion, and scientist who
recently discovered the cure for athlete's foot ... though only in her head.
Real life isn't so interesting, which is why she spends most of her time
writing.
Her first novel, Ghostwriter,
is available through The
Writer's Coffee Shop (which is the least expensive option), Amazon, iTunes, and Kobo. Her second novel, The End of All Things, was released on January 24,
2013, and is available through TWCS, Amazon,
and iTunes.
She also has a short story in the Romantic
Interludes anthology, available from TWCS, Amazon
and iTunes.
Her third novel, Under These Restless Skies, is
scheduled for release in spring of 2014.
Links:
http://about.me/lissabryan
https://www.facebook.com/LissaBryan.Author
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