Celtic New Year

Happy Holidays everyone. I hope you all have a Happy New Year. I write Celtic romances and the New Year celebration, called Samhain, was as important to the ancient Celts as New Years is to us. Even more so as the long cold days of winter were dangerous to ancient man and the Samhain rituals helped keep them in the gods and goddesses’ favor, increasing the tribe’s chance of survival. Here’s a New Year excerpt from my brand new release a Paranormal/ Erotica/ Romance The Wolf and The Druidess

Excerpt:
“Yes, Druidess. It is the best new year celebration ever.” The young woman’s freckled face beamed.
“It is, isn’t it?” Seren sighed as she envisioned sitting with the ghost of her mother and sharing the feast. “Will you gather treats for me, I am off to visit my mam’scairn for Samhain?“ Her throat tightened. Seren’s father had died in battle with the Silures, when she was young, leaving her mother to care for her.
Today, ten months after her mother’s death, she would sup with, talk to, and spend time with her again.
“We have oat cakes, druidess and fresh, juicy apples.” A maiden with long nut-brown hair handed her a wicker basket.
Seren peeked inside at the shiny red apples, crispy oat cakes, plump black pudding links, fat turnips, wild carrots, and handfuls of roasted hazelnuts.
“Druidess, tell me, do you have someone special to couple with around the bonfire this night?”
“No, I need to bring this fare to my mother.” Seren shrugged. She would like to share this night with a handsome man, but as the druidess her days were full with serving the tribe. With little time to kindle a romance, she longed for love, but mayhap it was not meant to be. “What of you?”
“Yes, I will spend the eve with Hywell. He and I shall hand-fast soon.”
“Blessings upon you. He is a good man, a brave warrior.” Seren pulled the white hood of her druid robe over her head. “I need to hasten to my mother’s cairn. Happy Samhain to you.”
“And you, Druidess, as well.” The young woman’s mouth curled up into a bright smile. “Here, for your trek into the dark woods.”
Seren took the lit torch from the freckle-faced maiden. With the basket looped through her arm and a firebrand in hand, she set out for the forest.

And here’s a Samhain or New Year excerpt from my Celtic/Paranormal/Romance, Druid Bride:

Excerpt:
As a yearly tribute to the dead, the New Year’s feast insured the gods saw the tribe through the hard winter. It had to be perfect, and it fell on her shoulders. Not to mention, she’d never put on a Samhain feast alone. Sulwen and Rhys always did it, and she merely helped. She began to relax, taking deep breaths as she strolled to the pasture where the cattle grazed. Tanwen walked through the herd and selected the cows to slaughter for the fire festival.
Then, she headed to the chief’s wheelhouse. “Good morning, Ciniatha. Have you chosen the nine maidens to cook the feast?”
“Yes, we just came from the garden. Come see.”
Though too busy to take the time to squeeze and smell the fruits and vegetables, Tanwen deemed they looked ripe. The bright, red apples appeared sweet and juicy, and the oblong, yellowish, purple-capped turnips were fat and sure to be crisp and filling.
Tanwen’s nose wiggled at the strong smell of the long, green leeks. “You’ve done well. I can tell this is the best of the harvest.”
“And taste this.” Ciniatha held out a spoon of yellow butter.
Tanwen glanced to the corner where two maidens pumped wooden churns. She dipped her finger into the spoon of butter and popped it into her mouth. So creamy and sweet. Rich. “It is good enough for the gods.” After licking her finger, she ran her tongue over her lips to get every dab. “Delicious.”
As she inhaled the mellow scent of fresh baked bread, she imagined the taste of a soft, warm slice with the soft butter. She had to leave before she started eating the food intended for the feast.
“I see all is well here.” She smiled at the chief’s wife. “There will be plenty of bread for the visiting spirits.” Tanwen turned to leave.
Ciniatha called after her. “Did you see Brude today?”
“Yes, he’s hunting boar for the feast. Now that we have caught each other, we have no time to spend together. There are feasts and battles, but after Samhain, there should be more time for us.”
“You have much to do. You are a druid. And rest assured, I have the fare for the feast well in hand.” She flashed a sweet smile at Tanwen. “Calach and I welcome you into the family. My son is making a wise choice.”
“My thanks.” She reached out and hugged Ciniatha, though Brude was still on her mind. Did he still feel that way? He seemed so disappointed about the hunt. She released her mother–to-be by marriage, smiled, then turned and continued the many tasks she’d set aside for that day.
After she ate the evening meal that Huctia brewed over the central fire of her wheelhouse, Tanwen laid on her pallet. Exhausted, she fell into a heavy sleep.

Of course us modern day folk like to party at New Year’s Eve too. So here’s a partying excerpt from The Wolf and the Druidess as the ancient Celts bring in their New Year.
Excerpt:
After the nine warriors had made many a trek up the hill, a bonfire towered before Seren. Chief Neithon handed her a firebrand to light it. The bard of the tribe came forward with harp in hand and strummed a lilting tune as the fire roared in a bright blaze.

Seren raised her hands high, twirling and chanting. “Fire sparks, veil parts, ancestors come near, feast, dance, sing with us here. Great powers abound. Circle comes round. All hail Samhain.”
The roar of the blaze, the cheering crowd, and the magic of Samhain rushed through her like an inferno. Seren slipped off her white gold-speckled robe, which had been woven by her mother and was the last gift from her before she died. Seren longed to see her once more. She tossed the garment to one of the women
to hold for her.
One of the nine maidens, Elund, beat the goatskin drum in a savage rhythm. Seren’s skin felt as hot as the fire as she moved in a swaying motion. Needing to bare her body for the gods, she danced to, she untied her hemp belt and her plaid skirt dropped to the dirt. She yanked her red tunic off and threw it down. The haunting twitter of the pipes and the ethereal tone of the harp joined the bodhran in the jubilant song of Samhain.

I wish each of you a happy and prosperous New Year.

Happy New Year,

Cornelia Amiri

The Latest in Long Swords, Hot Heroes, & Warrior Women

Cheers everyone, I’m passing (virtual) heather mead around, please grab a goblet and drink down the heady brew as I tell you about my latest release Druid Bride. It is my ninth Celtic/Romance as I love history and have an unquenchable passion for all things Celtic. I believe it began when I saw the Disney movie, The Sword and the Stone at age five. Speaking of movies, Druid Bride is set against the same historical backdrop of 1st century AD Scotland as the new movie, Centurion.

It’s a mystical, romantic tale, full of adventure that will sweep you away to the period in history when the Boudica revolt failed in England and the Pictish tribes of northern Scotland took up the battle against the Romans. It is a time of long swords, hot heroes and warrior women. Brude is my hot hero, a Pictish warrior, with shoulder length hair thick from lime wash and spiked like a hedgehog’s, with strands ranging from dark brown to a golden hue. Danger shines in his alluring grin and the gleam of his brown eyes. He is tall, young, muscular, well built and his body is covered with blue, Pictish woad tattoos of Celtic beast and curving symbols. My warrior woman, Tanwen, has long, straight, copper toned red hair and large green eyes, she wears the white gold speckled robe of a druidess. They are physically attracted to each other and they respect each other. But they do not trust each other.

I think the best way to describe a historical time period or events is to just bring the reader into it. Here are some tidbit excerpts and character quotes to take you to the wild world of the Pictish tribes in first century AD, Scotland.

Excerpt:
The tattoos covering his arms and legs were similar to the sacred images engraved on the long stones which stood all over Caledonia. The largest swirl began small and curved into a larger loop, with a little one for wings, and long, thin lines as legs. So his patron goddess was Corra—the crane goddess—which revealed his closeness to the otherworld and his gift of prophecy

2nd Excerpt:
Together they gulped down the golden mead. Never, not once, did they tear their eyes away from each other.
“As the mead flows through you, let the spirit fill you.”Tanwen walked over to the cauldron and dipped her hand in the dark, gooey, blue dye.
Her finger slinked down his face, streaking both cheeks blue. The woad was warm, her touch hotter. His tinted checks burned. After dipping her hands into the dye again, her ring-bedecked fingers danced over the muscles rippling down his arms, tracing each of his tattoos, following the lines as she painted them blue. He quivered. The gods shielded him through these symbols. The first was a wolf, with an open mouth drawn as a curve. Then the boar with tusk made from a circle, with a line drawn though it and two knots on each end. His flesh tingled as she painted the lines of a swirling snake.

3rd Excerpt:
There she was, standing on the hill, enveloped in a flowing, speckled, white cloak held with a gold brooch, and wearing gold clasps on her ears and a thick gold torque around her neck. Brude watched as the villagers took the nine sacred woods and built the great fire. He felt like he didn’t know her. He didn’t think of her as Tanwen while watching her there, but simply as a druidess, a human personification of a war goddess. A woman yes, but one who spoke for the gods, and therefore had more power than the mightiest chief of the land. Not the woman he longed for when the Smertae captured her in that botched cattle raid. Not the fiery lady he’d slept with, who filled his dreams.

And I’ll leave you with these two character quotes from Druid Bride:

“Oh woman, loved by me, give me your heart, your soul, and your body. I swear by peace and love to stand, heart to heart and hand to hand.” Brude

“I have drunk mistletoe afore, stronger than what is given to the sick. I use it to aid travel through the oak door.”Tanwen