I’ve always been mesmerized by the mystical tale of King
Arthur and Camelot. Honestly, who isn’t intrigued by this long ago tale? Is
King Arthur real? Is the story truly magic or just a tale imagined by a
wandering troubadour? Writing about this fascinating
legend was something I’d wanted to explore for a long time. When I
learned--just by chance (or was it??)--that there was a Stonehenge Memorial in
Washington State, well, that sealed the deal for me!
Although
many authors use the five elements of writing fiction: Who, What, When, Where,
and Why to lead to the sixth element--Plot--I usually do the reverse. I come up
with the plot, the idea of a story, and then decide the who, what, when, where,
and why after that. So the idea was to write a fantasy romance based on the
folklore of King Arthur, but to give it a modern twist.
A VACATION RUINED--Heather Woods suddenly learns her boyfriend, Connor,
cancelled their summer plans. Determined to forget about him, she visits her
flaky godmother, Nerissa, instead, for an impromptu vacation. Nerissa insists
that Heather has a healing gift, something Heather doesn’t believe. But when
she experiences visions... hallucinations... or whatever her jaunts back to
Camelot are, she fears for her sanity. Meeting a man that might actually be
Merlin the magician, and his very attractive nephew, Matthew, along with
assorted other characters convince Heather that she’s in the middle of a
strange, metaphysical phenomenon.
A VACATION CHANGED--Judge Matthew Limner also finds his vacation plans
changed. He receives a call from a long-lost Uncle Mallory--so long-lost that
he hadn’t even known Mallory existed. Mallory flies in from London, and expects
to go sightseeing with Matthew. Resigned, Matthew plays the host. First stop:
the Stonehenge Memorial in southern Washington. A chance encounter--or is
it?--with Nerissa and Heather convince Matthew that something much more than
coincidence is happening in this tiny corner of the world.
Artist’s rendering of a possible cover
An urgent summons
resurrects Merlin the magician to once again meddle in the affairs of men.
UNCOVERING
CAMELOT is available at Amazon.com
and Smashwords.com,
in addition to other internet locations. It’s received great reviews including
5 Stars on Amazon!
Here
is a book trailer for UNCOVERING CAMELOT:
This book is part of the
Magical Fantasies line.
Here’s
a real life connection. A chance remark by a friend about being the youngest child
in a family of seven daughters set me to thinking. Seven daughters conjured up
fairy tales I’d read growing up. The hero of the fairy tale was often the
seventh son of the seventh son. I couldn’t ignore this opportunity. My heroine,
Heather Woods, had to be the seventh daughter of the seventh daughter,
thereby enabling her to have a magical experience.
Also, since the Stonehenge
replica built in Washington State plays an important role in the novel, I had
to go on a field trip. I found the monument lovely, eerie, and quite desolate.
Below
is a passage from UNCOVERING CAMELOT where Heather finds out she’s going to
visit the Stonehenge Memorial with her godmother Nessisa and her three
mysterious friends.
As the evening wore on, the women talked around her,
sometimes stopping to ask Heather questions--questions mostly pertaining to her
love life--or lack thereof.
For some reason, Heather couldn’t actively participate
in the conversation. It was almost as if she was a child in a room full of
adults. Which was funny, really, for she was a kindergarten teacher--her job,
of course, to be the only adult in a room full of kids.
The women’s voices droned on, weaving around her like
a sorceress’ chant. She yawned. She couldn’t help it. After she yawned a second
time, she closed her eyes.
The heavy scent of rhododendron incense displaced the
fresh nighttime air. Blinking, she opened her eyes. A cloudy mist hid the
backdrop of the yard, the oak trees, and the utility shed.
She wasn’t alone. The women were still there, sitting
in a circle around her. They’d changed clothes, though. All four women wore
white robes.
What? Heather shook her head. The vision cleared.
Nerissa was back in her pink muumuu, Arlene had on her jean short shorts,
Brenna wore capris, and Cara sported her polyester pants and button-down
blouse. Everything was back to normal. Even the fragrance of rhododendrons was
gone.
“So, Heather, it’s a date, then,” Arlene said
brightly, and slapped her on the back. “I’m looking forward to showing you the
Stonehenge Memorial on Saturday.”
Stonehenge? What in the world was Arlene talking
about?
Cara broke her silence by saying she was ready to go.
Evidently, when Cara was ready, she was ready in capital letters. Her two
companions quickly helped her to her feet, then guided her down the stairs onto
the grass.
It was pitch dark out on the lawn, even with the
porch lights on. They took their time walking over the uneven ground. Nerissa,
more surefooted, led the way.
With waves goodbye and plans to meet again on
Saturday morning, the three left through the back gate and walked toward a
parked dark car.
Heather waited on the porch for Nerissa to return.
Why couldn’t she recall the conversation? And Stonehenge--she’d always wanted
to view the replica of the ancient Neolithic landmark, but had never had the
chance to visit. Saturday would work out perfectly.
But still, she should’ve remembered talking about it
with the group.
And what about the mist and the white robes?
She twirled a limp lock of hair around her finger.
What was going on at Nerissa Emery’s house?
Visiting
Goldendale and Maryhill, Washington where the Memorial is located, also gave me
a chance to wander through the beautiful Maryhill Museum. Here I across a
lovely sculpture that I incorporated into the story.
Scene
Set-up: On the grand lawn of the Maryhill Museum, Heather walks with Desmond
Redmord, a man with an uncanny resemblance to Camelot’s Mordred, Arthur’s
nephew and illegitimate son.
Desmond pointed at a beautiful glass sculpture, wavy
with multicolored stalks as if imitating a living plant. Sitting on a blanket
just beyond the chained area around the sculpture was a dark-haired woman. Her
hair was so dark as to be midnight black--long and flowing. She stared at
Heather with a gaze as piercing as Desmond’s. Her vivid red lips were turned
into a petulant frown.
Heather gulped down unease. Did she really want to
meet Moriah Redmord, a woman who just might’ve been the reincarnation of the
medieval witch, Morgeuse?
I
hope you enjoy Heather and Matthew’s magical story.
Happy
reading,
Susanne
Marie Knight
Read
outside the box: award-winning Romance Writing With A Twist!
