As
authors, we all get our inspiration from different places. For me, one common
prompt comes from my travels to Europe. In
2010, my husband and I took a tour of northern Spain
which started in Madrid and ended in Barcelona.
In Barcelona, we visited the medieval
Barcelona Cathedral (not to be confused with Gaudi’s 20th-century Sagrada de Familia Cathedral, a work
still in progress) and I was surprised to find that the seats in the choir were
painted with various knights’ coats of arms instead of saints. This was because
the “Order of the Golden Fleece” met there in 1519.
The Order
was an elite fellowship of sovereigns and noblemen who forged alliances and
solved disputes between their principalities. I came home and did a little
research, and discovered that the king of Norway
and Denmark
was a member. That was all I needed to know to send my Nordic knight to Barcelona as his
representative—because we all know that no king ever abandoned his throne for
months on end, to travel so far, and sit in a musky Cathedral for weeks.
The next
fun fact: Henry Tudor, a.k.a. Henry the Eighth, was also a member.
Clearly,
my Nordic knight needed to spend some time in Henry’s court in London,
on his way from Copenhagen to Barcelona. I rolled up my virtual sleeves,
and began to research Henry in 1518 – at age 27: eight years before meeting
Anne Boleyn and begging her to become his mistress, and fifteen years before he
married her. At this point, Henry was still in love with his wife, Catherine of
Aragon. He only had one documented extramarital affair thus far, with Jane Popincourt in 1514.
The bad
news for my research: history pretty much ignored Henry before he attempted to
divorce Catherine over a decade later.
The good
news for my research: history pretty much ignored Henry before he attempted to
divorce Catherine over a decade later.
As I
tried to do my due diligence in researching Henry, I ran into blank after
blank. For example: how many residences did he have? “This list is incomplete…”
and started in 1527. I did, however, find out what his tennis balls were made
out of: putty and human hair. What is putty made from? Linseed oil and chalk.
I’m
hoping that by including the things I did find – like his early original poetry
– purists will forgive any omissions. The truth is, if I couldn’t find it, I
doubt they can find it either. On with the story!
Now we
jump to the serendipitous part of this tale: I attended Romantic Times Booklovers
Convention in Kansas City in 2013, and ran
across a videographer from Winnipeg,
Manitoba. He had a distinctly
Nordic look, so I asked if he wanted to be on a book cover. He said yes!
Jump again to 2014, and the long-distance photography session. Funny thing about the
pictures—my videographer looked a lot like a young Henry. So being an author
and creator of plots, I wrote that similarity into the story.
In “A
Nordic Knight in Henry’s Court,” Jakob Hansen visits Henry in 1518. Catherine
is currently pregnant for the sixth (and final) time. And because she miscarried
four years earlier after finding out about Miss Poppincourt, Henry is desperate
to keep his new mistress, Bessie Blount, a secret from the queen. So he presses
Jakob into service as a diverting body-double, to disguise his actions.
Furthermore,
he makes Bessie a promise: if no one finds out about the ruse, then Henry will
claim any male bastard she bears. What happens? I’m not telling.
“A Nordic
Knight in Henry’s Court” (May) and the second part, “A Nordic Knight of the
Golden Fleece” (June) will take the reader to times and places not commonly
visited. I hope you will come along, and explore with me.
As a writer, I can see many, many story ideas embedded in these fun facts. I personally don’t know anyone born on February 29th. I have a friend whose husband and their first daughter were both born on Valentine's Day.
