Secondary Characters

In a romance novel, it's the hero and heroine - and their love story - that are the main focus. And that's how it should be. We all love to close that book with a contented sigh at that "happily ever after."

But along the way to the ending are many stumbling blocks for our couples. And one of the best devices to help them along the way to happiness is the secondary character.

I love secondary characters. They can come in many forms - a hero's best friend, a heroine's father or sister. For that matter, a secondary character needn't even be human. Animal friends, ghosts, or fairies can sometimes be just as real in the world of romantic fiction.

Two of my favorite secondary characters appear in my first novel, In Sunshine or in Shadow, as well as my upcoming Highland Press release, Coming Home.

Margaret Kilpatrick is known to everyone in the small Irish village of Ballycashel as Grannie Meg, She's my heroine's grandmother, shrewd, full of wisdom, understanding, and the rock Siobhan Desmond depended on when her life was nearly destroyed by the Famine. She was also the first to perceive hero Rory O'Brien's true character.

Tom Flynn was even more fun to write. He was Siobhan's best friend from girlhood, a man she looks on as a big brother. He stood by her during the worst time of her life.

Tom has also been like a second father to Siobhan's daughter Ashleen, heroine of Coming Home, and that "second father" role does complicate Ashleen's budding romance with Irish-American war hero, Cavan Callaghan. There were a few times when Tom's Irish stubbornness - and the famous Flynn temper! - tried to take over the story. But I managed to rein him in. And he did help bring about a very satisfying conclusion to Ashleen and Cavan's romance.

Do you enjoy seeing secondary characters take part in the romance of the hero and heroine? Who are some of your favorite - and least favorite - secondary characters?

Twisting Legends: The Amulet in Kilted Lover

A magical Celtic amulet is an important element in my latest release, Kilted Lover. Though the story is contemporary, the amulet is seven hundred years old. My idea is based on the Ring of Dalny. According to legend, Dalny was the Queen of Partholan, one of the first races to inhabit Ireland, more than two thousand years ago. Since Highlanders are descendants of the Irish, the Ring of Dalny ended up in Scotland. I had read somewhere (which I can't find now!) that the Ring of Dalny, which had a blue stone, was stolen from a Scottish Museum and never found. Whether all this is real history is unclear, but imagine if it were. And imagine the ring has magical powers. It would be worth a fortune.

The way I twisted this legend for my own story was to change the name of the ring to Glaminy and create a companion piece of jewelry, a magical peridot and gold amulet worn as a pendant. Instead of being in a museum as the ring was, the amulet has been passed down for many generations through the heroine's family. It is so old, she doesn't even know its history or its purpose. But someone else does, a thief who is an expert of antiquities. He knows it's worth millions and he's determined to have it.

The amulet in my story has Celtic symbols and Gaelic words carved into it but these are almost worn away by time. These words Tha fios fithich agad, mean "You have a raven’s knowledge."
In Transactions, Volume 12 by Gaelic Society of Inverness 1885-86, raven's knowledge is said to mean "knowledge more than is natural. The raven was believed to possess supernatural knowledge, and of coming events in particular."

Not much is known about the mysterious Glaminy Amulet in my story. It is like a forgotten piece of history that suddenly comes to life and causes all kinds of chaos--greed, danger, passion. The peridot glows brightly at times, or flashes of light pass through it. Depending on what is going on, it can grow warm to the touch, or burning hot.

Kilted Lover: Chapter 1 (excerpt)

“My amulet isn’t for sale,” Leslie Livingston said for the second
time, wishing this line at the refreshment stand would move
forward already. Every minute that the Charleston sun beat down
on her was another step toward dehydration. And the jerk
harassing her about the amulet made the situation twice as
annoying.
“Come now, luv, I’ll give you a hundred US for it.” The gray-
haired Englishman sipped his cola. Too bad she couldn’t have
gotten in line ahead of him.
“No, thanks.” Her grandmother had given her the amulet years
ago and she would never part with it. Even if it was worth only ten
dollars, the sentimental value was priceless.
“Two hundred, and I’m being very generous.” The man beside
her inched closer. His black dress pants and white button-up shirt
seemed out of place at the Scottish Games.
She took a step back, hating close-talkers. “Nope, sorry. Why
are you so interested?”
“I’m a jeweler and it’s an unusual piece. Two-fifty?”
Leslie sighed, though she felt like screaming. “No,” she said in a
firmer tone.
“You’ve got to be joking. It’s only a peridot, for God’s sake. It
can’t be worth any more than that.” His pale gray eyes took on a
menacing quality.
Leslie was tempted to grab his drink and pour it over his head.
“Clearly it is, or you wouldn’t want it so badly.”
“How much did you pay for it?”
“It was a gift.” Move forward, people, she mentally shouted at
those in line ahead of her.
“Three hundred, and you’ll be robbing me blind.”
“Leave me alone,” she said through clenched teeth. “Even if
you offered me a thousand dollars, the answer would still be no.”
The man’s hand shot out toward her chest and the amulet. She
jumped back and slammed into a body so solid that it didn’t budge.
Big hands caught her upper arms.
“What the hell are you doing?” The deep voice almost growled
the words.
“I’m sorry—” Leslie began. But his eyes were fixed with
malicious intent upon the British man.
“The lady said no. So beat it.”
With her back pressed against his hard chest, she felt his words
resonate.
“Fine.” The Brit looked like he wanted to snarl, but he strode
away, muttering about ignorant Americans.
Her rescuer released her.
“Thank you.” Leslie couldn’t help but stare up—way up—into
his sexy face. His narrowed, sea-green gaze was pinned on
someone far off to her left. The frown and clenched jaw
emphasized his rugged, masculine bone structure. She noted his
long, sun-streaked sandy hair, the white T-shirt stretched over his
enormous chest, and the plaid kilt belted at his waist. A low-slung
silver chain held a black leather sporran in place at the front of his
kilt. Male earthiness emanated from his skin. But for the t-shirt, he
might have been a fearsome warrior transported through time from
the Scottish Highlands.
“No problem.” He fully focused on her, and the temperature
climbed ten degrees. That made it around ninety in the shade, not
unusual for September in the Low Country.
Music swirled from bagpipes in the distance. Voices mixed with
laughter, and for an instant, she imagined herself far, far away with
this luscious hunk. In Scotland? Chills and heat raced over her
skin.
“That is an unusual amulet. What makes it light up?”
“What?” The large peridot encased in gold was indeed glowing.
She lifted the stone and the heat from it surprised her. “I have no
clue.”
Though her grandmother had given it to her fifteen years ago,
today was the first time she’d worn it. The story of its origins was
lost in the mists of time. She’d always considered it gaudy and
unfashionable, but she thought it appropriate today, a Celtic amulet
worn to Scottish games.
“How old is it?” he asked.
“I don’t know.” Now was he interested in it, too? Surely not. He
didn’t look as if he would wrestle her for it.
“It’s your turn.” His attention lifted to her eyes and held her
captive with the power of his stare.
Okay, that was just too sexy. Heat and awareness rushed over
her. “My turn?”
He grinned and gestured toward the vendor.
“Oh, sorry.” She spun around, feeling a bit lightheaded, not to
mention idiotic, and placed her order. Dear God, he was yummy.
She had the mad urge to lick him.
That’s just stupid, Les. You’re a mature, responsible, respected
veterinarian. You don’t have those kinds of thoughts.
Nicole North - Kilted Lover, Red Sage
Copyright © Nicole North, 2009
All Rights Reserved, RED SAGE PUBLISHING, INC.

Regency Women, Money & Men -- And My New Release!

There was many a woman and her children in the Regency who had to make do with little after living a grand life… actually there are women still today who deal with this but that’s a topic for a different blogsite.

When you think of widows being removed from their homes and having to survive off of what meager means were left to them or the charity of friends and family, while some far off male relative lives in the house they used to inhabit, Mr. Collins comes to mind. Do you recall Mr. Collins? Oh, the silly little man…the bane of Elizabeth’s existence…

Just because a woman was taken care of before her husband died, didn’t mean she’d be taken care of when he was gone. If a man held a title, and that title owned the property, and could only be transferred to the next legitimate male heir, and that man happened to only have daughters, when he passed on, his wife and daughters would have to vacate the premises if the male heir so deigned it—and more often than not, he would. They might be left with a meager yearly allowance from the estate, which she would have to make do with until or unless she re-married, or was able to live off of her daughters marriages.

Everything seemed to come down to living off of someone else. Unless you were lucky enough to be left a substantial inheritance which would make you wealthy in your own right, or the peerage title could be passed to a female.

In my newest release, Her Captain Surrenders, the 2nd story in my Regency Men of the Sea series, I wanted a strong willed widow. A woman who was wealthy in her own right, and didn’t have to get married for money. Juliette can survive on her own, and simply wants a lover. A man she could share things with, a companion and best friend.

She finds that in one Captain Nathaniel Cruise. When she falls in love with him, it isn’t a worry for her that he doesn’t hold a title, she is free to pursue him, free to follow her heart—and he leads her on a merry chase!

Blurb:

Captain Nathaniel Cruise has a job to do. But what happens when a beautiful woman tempts him to turn his eye from his duties to pursue more…pleasurable entertainments? Not only that, the woman has a wit and intelligence that rivals his own and he finds himself falling deeper and harder for her.


Lady Juliette Blackburn, knows what she wants, and she wants Captain Cruise. A rich widow in her own right, she’s decided to take her love life in her own hands. However, at every turn the man of her dreams is running away from her. She’ll have to keep up a subtle chase to discreetly reel him in.

Despite their mutual attraction something darker is pulling them together. A rogue former lover of Juliette’s is the main suspect in Nathaniel’s investigation, and now he’s threatening both their livelihoods. Together they’ll fight the villain and perhaps on the way Nathaniel and Juliette will surrender to love.


“Author Eliza Knight delivers maximum heat per page in HER CAPTAIN SURRENDERS. Confirmed bachelor Captain Nathaniel Cruise meets his match in Lady Juliette Blackburn whose aim is matrimony. Captain Cruise must uncover a traitor to the Crown while resisting Juliette’s sizzling advances. Their lives depend on his success. HER CAPTAIN SURRENDERS is a sexy romp that keeps you guessing right to the end.”

~Sarah Richmond,
author of award winning ROSE ADAGIO


Excerpt

“Captain Cruise.” His hostess Lady Challedon came up behind him. “May I introduce to you to a dear friend?”

Nathaniel swallowed his distaste at meeting another groom hunter, and turned to gaze into the most stunning pair of lavender eyes, made all the more brilliant by a frame of thick, curling black lashes. Lady Blackburn. For a moment he was struck dumb. They’d never been formally introduced, yet he’d seen her everywhere, the park, ballrooms, Covent Garden, and dinner parties. And she had seen him. More than once, he’d looked up to find her eyes on him but he’d been too preoccupied helping Captain Montgomery, the Earl of Stafford, to beg an introduction. He’d managed to find out her name, that she was a widow, and little else.

“My pleasure, ladies.”

He bowed. She curtsied. Nathaniel let his gaze fall to where full breasts pushed the limits of her silvery gown. His gaze lingered on her breasts a scant moment longer before traveling the length of her narrow waist and rounded hips. The curves of her figure promised to be a lush experience for any man. His body stirred to life with the thought. Perhaps he could persuade her to enjoy a night with him.

He caught his bearings and managed a polite, “Lady Blackburn, would you care to honor me with a dance?”

“I should like that very much.”
Deep golden blonde hair, with hints of coral red, bobbed atop her delicate head as she nodded. She slipped her arm into the crook of his elbow, and gazed up at him. Her touch sent a shocking hunger racing through his veins. He’d never reacted this way to a woman before.
Get ahold of yourself, Nathaniel! He felt like an adolescent rather than the two and thirty years he was.

“Captain Cruise, I seem to be running into you quite often. Are you enjoying the Season?”

He paused a moment before answering. He couldn’t tell her he would rather chew off his own arm than attend another ball. He should let her know he didn’t intend to tarry long in London. The sea called his name, begged him to return, and he planned to answer as soon as he possibly could.

“’Tis a most fascinating way to distract myself until I return to my ship.” Nathaniel glanced at the lady to gage her reaction.

The corners of her mouth curved into a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. She looked away, as if trying to hide her disappointment.

“What is the name of your ship, Captain?” Her voice held a note of pique. Was she a saucy lady then?

Contest.... answer this question: Which British monarch abdicated the throne in order to marry his love, an American divorcee?

Email your answer to writer@elizaknight.com for a chance to win a copy of BOTH Her Captain Returns and Her Captain Surrenders.

Cheers and Good Luck!

Eliza
Visit me at http://www.elizaknight.com/

Upcoming Workshops

November:
~Crafting the Sensual Novella
~Conducting Historical Research Online

December:
~Edit Your Book in a Month
~The Hapsburg Dynasty

Researching your characters

I prefer researching and writing about the U.S. in the 1800's. Specifically the western U.S. However, I find myself time and again having to research farther back and overseas to fully develop my characters.

A character's roots tells a lot about that character and I find that by going back on the family tree I can develop my characters and make them more real. My problem is even though I'm researching for my book set in the west in the 1800's I have to delve into 1700's Europe sometimes.

I remember my Social Studies classes and learning all about the "boiling pot" that makes up America. I know the only true American is the Native America who has been on this continent the longest though I've also read they came from another continent as well, long, long ago. My heritage is a "Heinz 57". My mother's side being predominately German and my Dad's side Dutch, Irish, English. So even to find my ancestral background I have to travel abroad.

Which brings me to- I have a book case full of western reference books and few on European history and find myself either going online or traipsing to the library to find the research materials need when I work to "discover" family history on a character. Anyone wanting to comment and leave me some good reference books I'd appreciate it.

For my latest release, Miner in Petticoats, the heroine took some research. I wanted her Scots, but while researching for her background I found that many of the Scots at the time she would have been a girl were exiled to Ireland due to clan wars. So I put her in Ireland and she married an Irish man who was killed during the uprisings between the Irish and the English.

While none of the story takes place in Ireland, I still had to research the living conditions and the upheaval going on there to be able to give my character back story that made her who she is in this book.


Blurb:
Shouldering the burdens of his family and the mining community, Ethan Halsey devotes himself to providing for his brothers’ growing families.

However, Aileen Miller, a widow, also looking out for her family’s interests, refuses to part with the land he needs. As they battle- one to push his dream to reality and the other to prove no man will hurt her again- their lives become enmeshed and their hearts collide.

How far have you gone to build your character in your mind as well as your reader's?

www.patyjager.com

The Other Medieval Queen

When we think of a medieval queen, the woman who often comes to mind is the queen around whom I developed my debut novel Widow's Peak, Eleanor of Aquitaine. Yet, there is another queen who was at least equally as powerful in medieval times. Isabella of France was responsible for many changes in the history of England.

Isabella was born a princess of France sometime in 1295. While still an infant, she was promised in marriage by her father to Prince Edward of England with the intent to resolve some of the many conflicts over land holdings between the French Nobility and the Norman English Rulers. However, the English king, Edward I, attempted to break the engagement several times and the marriage only proceeded after he died, in 1307.

The new king, Edward II, was tall, athletic, and wildly popular when he and Isabella were married in January, 1308. She was twelve years old and considered a great beauty, but her time at the French court more than prepared her for the machinations of the English court.

Although they produced four children, Edward was notorious for lavishing sexual attention on a succession of male favourites, all of whom Isabella considered a threat to her son and thus to her own standing. The timing of her turn against her husband seems to be tied to his preference for his favorite, Hugh le Despenser. During her pregnancy with her fourth child, she begged her husband to exile Despenser from the kingdom. Edward agreed, but later that year reneged and called his favorite back to England. Apparently, that was the last straw as far as Isabella was concerned. It is rumored that sometime during the next few years she took as her lover Roger Mortimer, 1st Earl of March. Though Mortimer was married and had twelve children, the affair was soon openly acknowledged.

It’s commonly accepted that Edward II was an ineffectual ruler. When Isabella's brother, King Charles IV of France seized Edward's French possessions in 1325, she returned to France as a delegate charged with negotiating a treaty. However, she became a focal point for the many nobles opposed to Edward's reign. In alliance with her lover, Roger Mortimer, Isabella gathered an army to oppose Edward. Enraged by such treachery, Edward demanded that Isabella return to England, but her brother refused to expel her, saying she came to France of her own free will and could remain as long as she desired. As it turned out, her stay was not long enough for Edward II.

With the support of both the King of France and the King of Holland, Isabella and Mortimer landed in Suffolk in 1326 with a fleet of eight man of war ships and an army of mercenaries. Edward II offered a reward for their deaths and the king was rumored to have carried a knife in his hose saved just to kill his wife if he got the chance. Isabella responded by offering twice as much money for the head of Hugh Despenser, who was still Edward’s favorite.

The invasion by was successful and Edward's few allies deserted him without a battle. The Despensers were killed, and Edward II was captured and forced to abdicate in favor of his eldest son, Edward III of England. Since the young king was only fourteen when he was crowned in 1327, Isabella and Mortimer ruled as regents in his place. As instigator of her own husband's removal from the throne, Isabella contributed greatly to the decline in England of the power of the monarch and thus the rise of democracy.

According to legend, Isabella and Mortimer plotted to murder the deposed king by sending the famous order, Eduardum occidere nolite timere bonum est, which, depending on where the comma was inserted, could mean either "Do not be afraid to kill Edward; it is good" or "Do not kill Edward; it is good to fear". There is little evidence of who decided to have Edward assassinated, and none whatsoever that the infamous note was ever sent.

When Edward III turned 18, he and a few trusted companions staged a coup and both Isabella and Mortimer were taken prisoner. Mortimer was executed for treason, but Isabella was spared she was allowed to retire to Castle Rising in Norfolk. She did not, as legend would have it, go insane, but enjoyed a comfortable retirement and made many visits to her son's court, doting on her grandchildren, and later taking the habit of the Poor Clares before her death in 1358.

In the tumultuous 63 years of her life, Isabella of France married the bi-sexual King Edward II of England, lived with him for 17 years, bore him four children, fled to France in fear of his powerful favorite, returned with her lover, Roger Mortimer, to lead a rebellion and place her son on the throne, saw Mortimer executed as her son asserted his power, and lived to retire to a nunnery. She was indeed a medieval woman who dared pursue power.

I'm giving away a copy of Alison Weir's intriguing biography, Queen Isabella: Treachery, Adultery, And Murder in Medieval England. Leave a comment about your favorite queen, ancient, medieval, renaissance, or any other period. I'll draw a winner on October 31st.

Hanna Rhys Barnes

Historic Haunts

Last month, I wrote my blog about ghosts of Virginia. Today, with an eye toward Halloween, my favorite holiday, I’m going to take us on a “tour” of haunted houses of the south. The history in haunted houses intrigues me as much as the prospect of ghostly funny-business afoot. Perhaps the Amityville Horror spawned a movie and an abundance of sequels, but the history of the house is actually quite recent. Murders in the latter part of the twentieth century aren’t nearly as intriguing as houses that may have been home to other-worldly beings for a hundred years or more.

One of the most notorious haunted houses was a farmhouse in Tennessee. The home of John Bell, a farmer in Adams, Tennessee, the Bell family was allegedly tormented by a spirit for years after an incident in 1817 when John Bell claimed to have shot at a creature with the head of a rabbit and the body of a dog. The creature disappeared, but the spirit made its presence known soon afterward. Scratching and knocking was heard in the home, while residents suffered hair pulling and other annoying assaults. Bell’s daughter, Betsy, took the brunt of the abuse doled out by the vengeful ghost. Supposedly, the ghost was the spirit of Kate Batts, a deceased neighbor who was said to have cast a vengeful curse on Bell from her deathbed. The Bell Witch became so famous that then-future President Andrew Johnson visited the home. Eventually, John Bell succumbed to illness, possibly the result of his experience with the Bell Witch. John Bell may have been poisoned, or perhaps the Bell Witch had her final act of vengeance with his death.

Less well-known is a house in Portsmouth, near the Virginia coast. A sea-captain who’d lost his wife in childbirth and later, his daughter to an outbreak of yellow-fever is said to roam the house where he once lived. Doors open and close and footsteps are heard on the stairs. Dogs have been known to bark at empty hallways. Unlike the Bell witch, the ghost in the Portsmouth house has never harmed anyone. Perhaps the heartbroken sea captain still wanders, seeking the loved ones he lost a very long time ago.

Sometimes, a house doesn’t appear to be haunted, but an object in the house demonstrates supernatural characteristics. An example is the portrait of Martha Hill, a Virginia beauty born at Shirley Plantation on the James River. The painting was once removed from the home and displayed as part of a travel exhibit. A well-respected witness reported seeing the portrait sway on its own from its hanging place in the exhibit. Months later, the portrait was stored in a closet for a period of time. Noise emitted from the closet disturbed employees until the portrait was removed. Eventually, the portrait was returned to its place in Shirley Plantation, and has ceased its restless motion. Could it be that the spirit of Martha Hill inhabits the portrait – while at home, she’s content and at rest – or were these incidents the result of coincidence? Perhaps we’ll never know.

One could devote a great deal of research time to the history behind haunted houses. Fanciful? Certainly. Enjoyable. Definitely, if you’re like me and enjoy a taste of the supernatural not. Whether or not you believe ghosts might be setting up residence in houses, the history behind these legends provides insight into the lives of the former occupants. Deaths due to disease and childbirth, love and loss, superstitions – these factors and more impacted the lives of those who came before us. The history of the occupants while they walked this earth is as fascinating as the speculation over the possibility they may still take up residence in their homes many years after their deaths.

Cutting Edge Music

As Blythe Gifford posted in September, I also listen to music when I write. I even create a playlist to get me in the mood. So how is this post different than the excellent one she posted last month?

Well, most of what I listen to is popular music. Cutting edge music. But we all tend to think of historical music as "classical." Venerable. Revered. Even stodgy and dull. What we all forget is that the music we now think of as stodgy and dull was the popular, cutting edge music back in its day.

Think of the waltz? Boring dance right? Well, maybe compared with modern gyrations on the dance floor it might be, but when it first appeared it was scandalous. Men and women in each others arms, pelvises together mimicking...sex. It was popular. It was cutting edge. And everybody was doing it - even if they only did it behind closed doors.

Now think of the musicians creating that music. Creating scandal. As today, they were the bad boys that all the women and girls probably watched with baited breath whether they admitted it or not.

What do we think of when we think of Mozart? He's the epitomy of classical music today. But when he was making music, he was a scandal. He was rude, crude and obnoxious (if the play/movie Amadeus can be believed). Yet the women went nuts for him. Well, if he really looked like the portrait to the left, I can guess why. There's a wicked twinkle in his eye that women respond to. He's not bad looking and dang, he created some amazing music. How could he not attract the chicks? He was the Elvis of his day. And I bet the dads hated the guy and kept their little girls far, far away.

I'm sure the antipathy between dads and musicians go back far longer than that. After all, the Middle Ages featured the troubadours. Young men who traveled from place to place with their instruments and made a living off their music. Secular music. Music about love. Courtly love. Forbidden love. Oh my...more sex. How delightfully wicked.

Imagine Nickelback (or fill in your favorite rock band with appropriately hot lead singer) showing up at your front door offering to play their music while you eat dinner. What's not hot about that?

In the image I've added here (painted by Edmund Blair Leighton) I don't know if the dude with the fancy hat is the father or the husband, but either way...he looks worried. And well he should. Musicians are and were the hot bad boys we'd all love to dally with in our deepest fantasies. And back in the day, their music was the scandalous, cutting edge stuff that rock music or hip hop is today. Keep it in mind when you're writing because it can help you create a useful and/or funny scene for a historical romance you write in the future.

What's your favorite historical music? Do you think the composer or performer was stodgy or a bad boy back when he wrote it?