Medieval Monday, autumn-style
WEEK 3
Another week of Medieval Monday!
Check out Medieval Romance Lovers as we share in the fall theme of "Nature" in our excerpts from our medieval stories. You’ll see weekly snippets each Monday on our blogs. And since I live in New England, home to memorable fall foliage, I will continue to try to post some photos! It’s been a busy fall (in home) as my kids and I juggle work and remote schooling…trying to get out there and enjoy the sights and sounds of autumn!
I encourage you to follow along with all the other Medieval Monday authors on the Facebook page here. You will find the links to their blogs where they are sharing their snippets. There may be even be some giveaways on the page…
You can also find us on Twitter at #MedMonFall20
This week’s snippet…
Set-up:
Domhnall is a Seer who descends from powerful Ancients with mystical abilities. He suffers from terrible visions of the Sight, an affliction that comes with each touch, except with Rosalie. He is taking Rosalie on a stroll through the village. They come upon the loch shore and he suggests they collect pebbles for her necklace-making. Rosalie is a crafter and fortune-teller, scrimping to make ends meet and support her uncle and aunt, but she is also on the run from a vengeful noblewoman not pleased with her readings. She tells lies for a living. Domhnall believes her to be a true seer.
The setting for this scene: the edge of Loch Duich, along Eilean Donan Castle (the central seat of the clan in my trilogy). Also, this was one of the few sunny days I enjoyed on my adventurous trip to Scotland!
Last week’s snippet is here. Now week 3…
Brazenly, he traced a finger over the embellished stone necklace she wore around her slender neck, its length dropping above her décolletage. The crinkle extended from her brows to the middle of her forehead, forming a wee crease in a sea of pale softness. What had he said wrong?
He laid one hand softly on the small of her back, drew himself closer. He kissed the deepening crease. He preferred her smile to her frown. He brushed feather lips upon her skin. A spark jolted him, but he absorbed it. He inhaled her scent, retreated slowly, and then moved a drawing finger from necklace to cheek.
“Domhnall, I don’t think…” She didn’t finish the sentence and, instead, held his gaze, then closed her eyes while he stroked her cheek.
He stopped, as difficult as it was. “Let’s find you stones, shall we?”
She opened her eyes and nodded. “Yes, please.”
He removed his boots and rolled his hose. Lacking modesty, she did the same, removing her work shoes and allowing clean toes to venture into the loch’s cool water. They spent the better part of an hour picking through rocks and pebbles and pond plants on the shore, locating unique pebbles. Domhnall shared stories of his youth, of trips with his father, and his explorations north and south. Rosalie chatted about her own travels, her passion for rocks, crafts, and numbers. He loved listening to her animated voice.
“Do you like visiting new places?”
She shrugged. “It’s all I know.”
“You don’t wish to settle?”
“One day.”
Stay Tuned….
