I Bring you good tidings ...Books filled with good Cheer!

By: Marcia King-Gamble

www.lovemarcia.com

Yippee! The holidays are here, and with holidays come, books, lots of them, and some written by our favorite authors.

You can never go wrong gifting a book, and in this case re-gifting, is permissible, and even flattering. Not that I recommend doing so without at least  a first read.

Word of mouth is a powerful thing, and like hand-selling a book, it's free marketing for the author. I’ve been  introduced to many a new author this way, and they've introduced me to their fans. So, that said, in this time when sharing is caring, I’d like to introduce you to some new and not so new holiday releases, by authors you may or may not be familiar with... at least not yet. Sit back and have  a read!

With pleasure, I introduce you  to an  amazing holiday boxset,  titled, Unforgettable Christmas Dreams. It was penned  by eleven multi-published USA Bestsellng authors, and offered at only an amazing 99 cents.. Now that’s a bargain, if you ever heard of one. Hop over to Amazon and pick up your copy.  Here's the link:  https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07ZCBXNRY/

Next up, talented, NY Times bestselling author,  Patrice Wilton, gives you  A Heavenly Christmas. Can you imagine having car trouble,with two kids in tow,  and landing in a magical town called Heaven? Everything about this place seems heavenly, including Nick Ryan, local chef with a heart equally as big as yours You’ll want to eat him up.

Of course  you've heard of the incomparable Heather Graham (not the actor,)  but the author of over 200 books and novellas. She is the founding mother of my Florida Writers chapter,  a more delightful and down to earth person you have yet to meet. Heather’s Spirit of the Season, released to the usual rave reviews.  Here's a sneak peak of what you can expect:

Imagine a young widow with no steady job, three children, a dilapidated Victorian house in constant need of repair, and now she takes in her newly orphaned nine-year-old nephew, Davey.

Davey is happiest playing baseball, and our young widow helps him through Little League tryouts – even though her past flame Tim Yeagher, is the coach.  I don't know about you, but I see drama ahead. And if that’s not enough,  fans of Heather’s Krewe books need to be on the look out for Christmas, The Krewe and a Large White Rabbit. Find it on Amazon https://amzn.to/2sUYmba.

Then of course  there’s me. Releasing  two previously written novellas. You can buy them as part of a boxset  at the bargain price of $2.99  or as singles at $1.99. I could not be more pleased  if you Ring in the Holidays with me. https://amzn.to/2D2XWRZ  https://bit.ly/36Nlbgi

Have a Happy Holiday Season all!

About Marcia King-Gamble

Romance writer, Marcia King-Gamble originally hails from a sunny Caribbean island where the sky and ocean are the same mesmerizing shade of blue. This travel industry executive and current world traveler has spent most of life in the United States. A National Bestselling author, Marcia has penned over 34 books and 8 novellas. Her free time is spent at the gym, traveling to exotic locales, and caring for her animal family.Visit Marcia at www.lovemarcia.com or “friend” her on Facebook: http://bit.ly/1MlnrIS  Be sure to join her mailing list.

Once Upon A Time

Once upon a time a woman was walking along a path gathering herbs. She hummed as she went about her work and at one point stood tall to stretch her back. The sun was out and she pushed the hood of her cloak back and for a moment paused and lifted her face to the warmth.

Unbeknownst to her, she was being watched. The man, the local priest, stood on an upper path. When she stretched her back, he felt a twinge of arousal. When she pushed her hood back, the twinge increased. When she lifted her face to the warmth of the sun, his arousal grew stronger. It was then he knew she was a witch, sent by the devil to lure him into sin.

Spoiler alert: This blog was first posted in October 2018. It was one of my best read posts and is still, unfortunately, relevant today. And as you read on, please consider inserting "other" as in people of color, people of a different religious/spiritual faith, people who are "not us." That is something that has not changed - blaming someone else for what we do not have or what we have done instead of looking at our role, our responsibility in this life.

During The Burning Times (15^th – 17^th centuries) this scenario and others were played out to the point where in some villages virtually every woman including infants, toddlers, children and adults were hung or burned at the stake or in some other manner, murdered. In many cases these women were the Wise Women, the healers, mid-wives or women who owned their own property and were not subservient to men.

What’s important to note is that these women did nothing wrong or bad. In many cases they adhered to many of the “old ways.” They planted and harvested herbs according to pagan traditions. They followed the seasons honoring the turning of the wheel of life.

And to be fair, while I’ve watched the Canadian documentary The Burning Times, I’ve also done some additional research albeit on Google. There were areas in Europe where mostly men were accused and in some cases mostly children. There were also areas where there were virtually no cases of a “witch hunt.” While there are many theories about “who” and “why,” the skeptics and naysayers minimize or attempt to turn us away from what was lost.

Paty Jager’s Monday post talks about what happened to the Nez Perce who lost their spirituality when forced onto reservations and forced to accept Christianity.

And along the same lines, the collective “We” lost the old traditions. We lost human potential. We lost artists, healers, oral histories and thus wisdom.

While there are disputes that millions were “burned at the stake” even conservative estimates range from 50,000 to 200,000 victims over the centuries. Considering these victims had families, friends and neighbors, it is accurate to say that millions were affected by these witch hunts.

Can you imagine what it was like for the woman gathering herbs to return to her home, to be seized and accused of being a witch sent to seduce the local priest? What could she have ever said that would have been believed? And for those situations where the woman would have been raped? Again, she was sent by Satan to lure the man to sin. What would her defense have been? Who would have believed her?

And centuries later we are still paying a price. Women who speak up often become the target of ridicule, of suspicion, of hate. How dare she say anything about her past.

As a woman who graduated from high school in 1959, I can attest to the routine sexual harassment that most of us endured at that time. At a time when there was no such thing as sexual harassment. A boy who grabbed a girl’s breast was “just being a boy.” In my 5^th grade health class, I was taught that it was My Responsibility if a boy “got out of line.” If that happened, I had done something wrong. If that was what I was taught, why would I have spoken up?

As a single mother who worked in a male dominated profession (law enforcement in the 1960’s), I know the price I paid to get along with and be accepted by my colleagues. The sexual innuendos, at times spoken to see if I’d squirm. The pats on my butt, the “accidental” brush against my breasts. Could I take it? Did I have rent to pay, food to purchase for my son and me?

As a woman who worked fifty years in social services with populations that spanned from nursery to nursing homes, I know the toll sexual and physical abuse, sexual and physical harassment and domestic violence takes on women and men. Part of our homeless problem is because women and men do not feel safe in shelters or adult care homes, or even in an apartment building (there are elevators and stairwells and they know from personal experience what horrors can happen when trapped there).

But most of all from all these experiences I know the price we all pay when women in particular are targeted, blamed and not believed.

I am not talking about any one case or situation currently highlighting the news. I am talking about acknowledging that for centuries we have blamed women for some men’s sexual arousal, sexual fantasies and their need for domination, control and power.

We are at a crossroads once again where what we lost in The Burning Times can be found in present time. The question is: Do We Want To?

To find your own answer, I encourage you to watch the Canadian documentary The Burning Times and also to read the book When God Was A Woman by Merlin Stone. Educate yourself. Question what you’ve been told, been taught.

Ask yourself “Is it true?” “How do I know this to be true?” “What are my personal experiences?”

Yes, there are somethings we take on faith, but our history? Something we can check out ourselves? 

We owe it to our grandmothers, mothers, sisters, daughters, granddaughters and in my case, great granddaughter to do the work, to do the research, to know the truth of our herstory.

You can find all of my books at your favorite e-book vendor. Be sure to ask your local library if you’d prefer to read my books through that resource. Check out my website to see where you can purchase a print book. 

Judith Ashley is the author of The Sacred Women’s Circle series, romantic fiction that honors spiritual practices that nourish the soul and celebrates the journey from relationship to romance.

You can find Judith’s books at all major e-retailers, some books stores and libraries.

Learn more about The Sacred Women’s Circle series at JudithAshleyRomance.com

Follow Judith on Twitter: JudithAshley19

Check out Judith’s Windtree Press author page.

You can also find Judith on FB! 

© 2018 Judith Ashley

The Holiday Buzz

Hi Everyone,
Posting a holiday tale this month.  Hope you enjoy it.

He needed a drink.

Bad.  Or as the grammar Nazis would say, badly.  Either way, Hugh had to get out of the stuffy motel and find something to quench his thirst—a thirst growing stronger with each passing millisecond. Food would be nice, too. He doubted he’d find anything, it being Christmas Eve and all. Still, he had to try.

The first blast of Artic air almost made him reverse direction. “Damn, it’s cold.”

He’d chosen Florida for the warmth. The temperature shouldn’t be forty degrees, even in December. He didn’t do well with cold, only staying inside mean spending the most wonderful night of the year alone. And with an empty belly.

Not an option. The lure of a warm drink spiked with something even hotter made him brave the frigid night. With any luck, he might even find someone to share his cocktail.

Head down to keep the blinding frost out of his eyes, he almost missed her. She was short, her head probably wouldn’t even reach his shoulders, but cute as a lady bug. Her gaze met his, and for a brief moment, he forgot the chill, even forgot why he’d ventured out into the bitter weather. Something primitive and alluring froze him in place, affecting all his appendages in a way the cold never could.

Her eyes were wide, as if she too experienced the jolt. Only she recovered quicker. Her head turned away as she backed toward the doorway behind her.

Hugh glanced at the door. The entrance to a bar. Hallelujah. 

He smiled, about to offer to buy the lady a drink, only he noticed her body shivered. Probably not from the weather—she’d just come from a warm place. Hell fire, she was afraid. Of him.

“You all right, miss?” he asked, hoping to set her mind at ease, probably not possible given the situation.

“I…I was just getting a bit of air.  Going back inside now.”

Hugh suspected she’d planned to leave, but didn’t want to risk being alone on the street after encountering him.  Did he really look that formidable? “Don’t blame you.  Can’t be too careful these days.”

She met his gaze again, assessing him. Maybe pointing out the obvious had made him less threatening.

“Interesting accent,” she replied, with a hint of a drawl. “Where’s it from?”

He grinned, convinced his little lady—and he’d already started to think of her as his—had overcome her fear. “Proper English, miss.  I’m Hugh.”

She opened the door, holding it for him. “I’m Belle.”

“Nice ring to it.”

“Ugh.” Despite her pretense of revulsion at his bad pun, she laughed. A sound that pleased him. “Just when I decided you might be all right.”

They found a table. She ordered coffee, he requested the nectar of mankind—beer. After the drinks arrived, he downed the first glass and laughed his butt off when she spilled her coffee.

“You’re making her nervous,” the waiter said, working hard to hide a smile. Which made Hugh laugh harder. And was a precursor of things to come.

After an awesome night, they left shortly after last call. “Can I walk you home?  I promise I’ll be a gentleman.”

She nodded.

“Maybe we can do this again,” he ventured.

“That would be nice,” she replied.

Hugh decided he liked the word, nice.  He put an arm around her, just to give her some of his body heat, of course.

Together they walked into the cold, cold night. Life was good.

Something slammed into them. Hard. A death blow.

Hugh knew he had mere seconds. He pulled Belle into his arms, feeling her breath on his neck—ragged and forced. She'd been hit too. They were both going to die.

He kissed her hard, feeling wonderful as his essence drifted from his earthly form. Truly a wonderful Christmas, despite the whole dead on the sidewalk  thing.

The last thing he heard as the world faded to black was a human voice: “Damn mosquitoes. Should be too cold for ‘em.”

Wishing everyone the special moments that make the holiday exceptional.  And hoping you're the windshield instead of the bug. :)

Happy, happy holidays!  

Winter Solstice, aka hibernal solstice

As I’m bustling about in preparation for the coming holidays, feeling more and more frazzled every day, I’m inclined to adopt a winter solstice mindset, a time of calm reflection. Also, hibernal suggests hibernation and that’s an idea I can get behind.

Recently I’ve been reading about how the solstice is celebrated around the world. Throughout history, the darkest day of the year has been marked by ritual, reflection, and feelings of renewal. People in Scandinavia celebrated Yule by gathering around fires to burn Yule logs and sip warmed mead – both of which were good antidotes to the encroaching dark and cold of the northern winter. The celebration also welcomed the return of the sun – each subsequent day will be longer.

Ancient Romans celebrated Saturnalia, dedicated to Saturn, the god of agriculture, to mark the end of the planting season. Music, gift-giving, and feasting lasted for several days.

Traditional solstice rituals continue to be celebrated. St. Lucia’s Day was a festival of lights during which fires were lit on the longest night to scare away spirits. Today in Scandinavia, young girls dress in white and wear a wreath of candles on their heads.

Many people in Japan mark the solstice and the return of the sun, called Toji, by bathing in water scented with yuzu, a citrus fruit. They eat kabocha squash for good luck, and they light bonfires.

Not surprisingly, fires and candles are a common theme across many cultures.

To celebrate winter solstice this year, I plan to walk a labyrinth (perhaps while celebrating this year’s accomplishments and contemplating next year’s goals) before feasting with good friends – a bit of nature and a bit of good cheer. And I’ll light a few candles.

And then I’ll crawl in my cave and not poke my nose out for a few months.

No matter how you celebrate this time of year, may your home be filled with light, warmth, and love.

~~~

If you enjoy steamy, small town romance with laughter and snappy dialogue, don’t miss the first book in this exciting new series. Buy If I Didn’t Care and escape to MacLeod’s Cove today!

Guess who’s moving in next door?

Nicole Bennett is used to bad luck—it’s kind of a family curse. She’s spent the past year stitching her life back together after losing her dream job. Well, it paid the rent. Now stuck working at her family’s grocery store while wrangling a demoralized dad and a spoiled-brat sister, the last thing she needs is for the man who wrecked her life to move in next door, even if it is for only three weeks. So what if he’s sexier than sin and makes her believe in fairy tale endings?

Ross Calvert’s life in the fast lane crashed when he lost his job and fiancée. All he’s got to show for years of hard work are a sleek sports car and a closet full of designer suits – minus the closet. Determined to salvage his relationship with his best friend, he trades in the corporate life for a brief stint as a caregiver. The decision was simple—until he discovers the tempting vixen he wronged lives next door. Maybe she’s what he needs to reboot his life.

What starts off as a no-strings fling soon veers into making promises that might be impossible to keep.

https://books2read.com/if-I-didnt-care

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Photo of fireplace by Stéphane Juban on Unsplash