Today, I’m welcoming to my blog fellow fantasy author and world builder, Kay Berrisford. She travelled time for the festive season, and is here to tell us about her new release (coming to us November 20th).

As a Brit, the challenge of writing a novel set between Thanksgiving and Christmas was one I almost turned down. After all, I’ve never yet set foot on US soil, so who am I to write about one of the most important dates in the US calendar? I decided to focus my seasonal novella on the winter solstice (21st December) and Christmas, and figured with a plot that encompassed magic, possession, stone circles, and time travel (one of my main characters is from 1647) I had enough research on my plate without delving into a festival I knew relatively little about.

Yet back in the 1600s–as in most periods since-British and American history were intimately intertwined. I decided that Aubrey had been born about 1621, and busily looking up that year, I discovered it had been cast in history as when the Pilgrim Fathers’ celebrated their first Thanksgiving, in Plymouth, New England. Although this particular harvest ceremony in 1621 was arguably not Thanksgiving in the modern sense, the earliest Thanksgiving-style ceremonies certainly originated in this period-as a form of religious ceremony devised by the Puritans in the English Civil War period, to differentiate their practices from Catholic and Anglican tradition. And there I was, busy reading about the English Civil War, in which Aubrey had served in Cromwell’s army.

Thoughts about Thanksgiving kept lurking, whether I wanted them or not, and American history kept distracting me too. Aubrey’s modern day lover, Simon, lives in the medieval part of the city of Southampton, and I wandered down there one day to do some plotting and to seek out a romantic place for Aubrey and Simon to snog. And where did I find myself? Under the Mayflower memorial, from where the Pilgrim Fathers set sail in August 1620 (The Mayflower subsequently set sail from Plymouth after its sister ship, Speedwell, sprung leaks, and they had to turn back. Otherwise that ‘first’ Thanksgiving might have been in a place called Southampton, New England!)

In the end, I decided to be brave. There was clearly a place for Thanksgiving in my book, and I got busy mainlining Thanksgiving stories, researched into Thanksgiving old and new-and nagged a few American friends to make sure I wasn’t making any major errors. So I’ve written a Thanksgiving to Christmas book without having been to America after all. Then again, I’ve written a time travel novel without ever having travelled through time. It will be easier to rectify my lack of US experience than fulfil that dream, even if I could understand the maths behind quantum theory! So I hope my American readers will forgive me.

(published by Loose Id, m/m paranormal/time travel, 45k)

Blurb:
Simon’s holiday season is looking grim. His boyfriend’s dumped him, and his self-esteem is rock bottom. Stuck in the UK where nobody celebrates Thanksgiving, the shy, geeky student drowns his sorrows at an ancient stone circle. When a gorgeous stranger, Aubrey, shows up and attempts to seduce him, Simon is flattered but also freaked-especially when Aubrey claims to be from an historic sex cult who’d uncovered the true powers of the circle. It’s a time machine. Aubrey intended to travel back three hundred and sixty-five days, but an error propelled him forward three hundred and sixty-five years into a world alien to him.

Simon reluctantly takes the lost time traveler under his wing, and Aubrey teaches Simon the ways of sex, love, and magic. Simon’s never felt so alive, but as their bond grows, Aubrey remains determined to perform a dangerous ritual and return home at the winter solstice. Fearing he’s no more to Aubrey than a sexual sacrifice, Simon must discover the dark secrets of Aubrey’s pagan past. Only then can Simon choose between risking all for the man he loves or a lonely Christmas without him.

Excerpt:

“Wh-why have you brought me here?” stuttered Simon. “You should have called an ambulance.”

Confusion clouded Aubrey’s sharp eyes, but he seemed to dismiss Simon’s words. “Here, drink.”

Aubrey picked up a plastic bottle of mineral water that had been in Simon’s bag, unscrewing the top with his teeth. Simon took it, and Aubrey cupped a hand about the back of his neck, lifting him so he could take a swig.

The cool liquid refreshed and wet Simon’s dry lips, but his head hurt as much as ever. As for Aubrey? The man seemed frantic to keep Simon with him.

After screwing the lid back on, Simon threw the bottle down and slumped back into the man’s lap. “Look, you can take the phone. I’ve got nothing else of value.” Well, there were the car keys in his pocket, but he was not going to draw attention to those. Strange the man hadn’t already taken them. “Just…please let me go.”

“I am not robbing you.” Aubrey stroked Simon as he might a feral cat ready to sink fangs into him any minute. “Neither would I keep you here against your will.”

“Then what the fuck are you doing?” Simon rolled off the man’s lap, catching himself on his hands, and then collapsed face-first into the carpet of leafy mulch. Feeling Aubrey’s touch on his shoulder, he turned over and glared.

Aubrey reached toward him, then snatched his hand back. “Wounds like this can be dangerous. You must-”

“What the hell do you expect me to do?” Simon moaned, pressing his hand to his head. “We’ve known each other for five minutes, and you stuck your tongue down my throat.” He’d not complained about that bit at the time, but it seemed a moot point now. “And why are you carrying a knife? It’s against the law. Don’t you know?”

Aubrey slid his hand to the hilt. Simon’s blood congealed to ice, but the man drew the dagger only to place it on the ground between them. “If it ails you so much,” he said, “I throw it down.”

Simon grabbed the weapon and examined it. Though the cutting edge had been sharpened, stained with something dark red that looked disturbingly like blood, the flat was dull and mottled through heavy use. As for the handle, with its spiral motif and slender hand guard that curved up around the hilt like a bow, Simon could jump to only one conclusion.

This weapon had been meticulously crafted and dated from the English Civil War. It looked like the kind pikemen and musketeers carried as a backup. Simon regarded Aubrey’s dress anew. The man’s short trousers had buttons at the knees, much like seventeenth-century-style breeches. The white shirt, which the rain had set clinging to Aubrey’s shoulders, could have dated from any time in the past six centuries but didn’t appear of modern cut.

“Are you with the Sealed Knot or something?” Simon placed the dagger down on his side farthest from Aubrey. “Is that why you’re camping here? You’re in one of those history reenactment groups?”

Aubrey sucked in a shaky breath and drew his fingers across his lips. “You speak of many strange things. Pray tell me. What year is this?”

“Eh?” Simon wrinkled his nose. “It’s 2012.”

“Oh ye gods.” Aubrey’s weather-bronzed face whitened.

Suspicion stole through Simon’s veins. “What’d you think it was?”

Aubrey looked so helpless. He inched his shoulders up in a shrug, and his voice cracked. “Yesterday it was 1647.”

The man’s meaning impacted Simon like a second blow to the head. “Say what?”

“I…don’t know.” Aubrey scanned the ground as if seeking answers amid the leaves and fungi. “I was supposed to go back. To undo…” He trailed off and was quiet for a long moment, squeezing his lower lip between his teeth. “Something went horribly wrong.”

“You bet it did.” Simon performed the mental mathematics. “Just assuming I believe you, and I’m not saying I do, you’ve been sent forward three hundred and sixty-five years.”

“I was supposed to go back three hundred and sixty-five days! I have to get home.” Aubrey covered his face with his hands, and Simon resisted an impulse to reach out, to comfort him. This didn’t strike him as a man easily reduced to despair.

But that was not the issue. Simon was still a captive, kind of. And Aubrey tore time? He’d actually completed that andaga ritual?

Well, the Stones were powerful-Simon harbored no doubts about it-and Aubrey did remind him of Doctor Who, but… No, the Stones were not a time machine. That was just insane.

He made a renewed attempt to raise himself. “I’m the one who needs to get home.”

“No!” Aubrey grabbed him, gouging into his waterproof jacket. “Since I got here, you’re the only person who’s understood anything of what I speak. I need you.”

Aubrey pleaded with his eyes and his lips, his anguish as tangible as a punch to Simon’s solar plexus. Coupled with his ravishing looks, it was all too much to bear. No way could this guy need him. At best Aubrey had to be a rival student taking the piss. Shit, maybe Pete put him up to it. At worst he was a psycho toying with his prey.

Simon twisted from Aubrey’s grasp, forcing words from a fear-tight throat. “Get away from me.”

Kay is a historian who realized it was even more entertaining to make stories up and add a ton of fantasy, sex and BDSM fun. She loves writing stories set in any time and place where she can indulge her love for research while imagining two hot guys getting it on, but has a particular passion for English folklore.

She lives in Hampshire, UK, with her beloved ‘other half.’ When they aren’t both madly working, they enjoy drinking wine, visiting castles and gorgeous countryside, and stalking cats and greenfinches.

You can find Kay on her website, and her books at Loose Id, All Romance ebook, Amazon, Amazon UK, Sony, and Barnes and Noble.

If you’d like to win Kay’s newest book, please, leave a comment with name and email, or send me an email at blaine@blainedarden.com with “Kay’s Contest” in the subject line, and you’ll be entered as well. No emails will be retained for any other purpose.

The winner will be chosen by random selection software and announced on this blog by Monday November 26th.

And don’t forget to hop on over to Kay’s place, because all commenters and entries to contests over there over the next month will also be entered in a draw to win a copy of Kay’s new m/m paranormal, Simon, Sex, and the Solstice Stone and a $15 voucher.