It is my absolute pleasure to have Daisy Banks visit here and talk about Celebrations today!
In France today, the 14th of July, the people celebrate the La Fête Nationale. I take great delight in wishing them well with their celebrations and hope the fireworks in Paris are fabulous.
My visits have been infrequent in the last few years, but I have always enjoyed my time in the south of France. The fabulous tree-lined roads leading to Nice and the Cote d’Azure are a wonderful drive to make. I hope the trees now aging will be replaced to maintain this quintessential vista for the locals and visitors alike.
If you travel at the right time of year down to the south of France, the scent of ripening fruit tantalizes and you have to stop and buy. My favorite memory is of peaches ripe enough to melt in your mouth, so juicy you can’t eat them without dribbles of liquid running over your fingers. The people in Florida will read that and think, so what. People in England may well understand.
I also love the lavender fields that spread for miles over the hillsides and make the air heady sweet.
I am hoping next Spring to be able to visit France again. The one place I want to see, and so far haven’t, is the palace of Versailles. Next year, I hope to make a short break to experience Versailles. I want to use the visit as research for my next historical story. This story will be set in France in the 1790s, and I am eager to begin work on it. I will also again be able to use my other interest of antiques in the story too. You can find out more about that if you read my blog tomorrow at:
I am celebrating too at present, as I’ve just discovered my historical novel, A Gentleman’s Folly has been accepted by Liquid Silver Books and will be available in the autumn, (fall). I’m sure you can understand I am thrilled by this news of another story joining my current book with Liquid Silver Books, Your Heart My Soul.
Here is a short snip from Your Heart My Soul.
Gareth raced back from the café, squashing the lid on a massive take-out cup of heavily sweetened coffee for Libby. He found her right where he’d left her after she fell from the counter: on the floor, in the arc of brilliant sunlight, halfway out in the small lobby halfway in the shop. The sun highlighted her dark hair with fire-bright chestnut sparks. He struggled to accept both what appeared to have happened and that he’d called her back safe and whole. He’d never dealt with anything as forceful as the entity in this shop.
Poor, sweet angel. She looked shell-shocked, stared up to him with eyes almost all black pupils still, her face so pale, he worried she might faint.
Though the boards were dirty and uncomfortable, he knelt beside her, and offered her the cup. “Here, sip this.”
She took a tiny mouthful, swallowed, and again. “What happened?”
Her voice wavered, and his uncertainty that the words were truly her own grew.
“A brief kind of spiritual possession. For a short time, the voice of another person spoke through you.”
“Don’t panic, I’m fairly certain she’s gone now.”
Libby clutched his hand. Her nails dug deep into his flesh, and her fingers trembled. “Are you sure? Please say she can’t come and go as she wishes. She can’t, can she?”
“Relax, calm down. No, I believe she can’t. Though I have to warn you she’s very powerful, and you, well you have to be a gifted receptive to receive such a visitation.” He slid his palm over her smooth hair, stroked along, and caressed her shoulder. She needed reassurance, and to his mind, touch offered her the best he could give her at present. “I’ve not known anyone else this has happened to. All this is new to me.”
She opened her eyes so wide the whites shone all the way round. “It won’t happen again?”
He shook his head. “Not if I can help it. I’ll have to research about this kind of spiritual interaction. The power of this level of connection is unusual. Such things happen, but they are extraordinary.” Deliberate in his effort to calm her, he avoided use of the word possession again. Libby appeared terrified by the idea, and at present, he couldn’t blame her, but he must try to make her understand what was happening. “I’m afraid you will have to face the fact we might need to talk with the entity again,” he warned. “Though not today, I’m fairly certain. We’ve done enough in the shop for now, and you’re coming back to my apartment.”
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Read a review here.
About Daisy Banks
Daisy Banks is from the Black Country, the heartlands of the Midlands in the UK. She is proud to count as her ancestors the people who lived in the narrow, blue-brick paved streets, who delved for coal or worked metal. Daisy is married and now her boys are adults she spends time writing romance. Daisy loves traditional romantic songs and ballads, is interested in art and architecture, enjoys travel, and occasionally cooks a meal that doesn’t stick to the pan.
website : http://daisybanksnovels.yolasite.com/