Author Feature – Weave for Me a Dream by Kathryn Lynn Davis

Stephanie Ingram posted this wonderful feature on her blog today. Thank you, Stephanie!

Stephanie Ingram

Victoria, Vancouver Island, B.C., 1895

In this emotional story of love and loss, anger and forgiveness, self-discovery and triumph, the characters in the Ivy family struggle against the adversities and realities of a time filled with bigotry and fear, as well as violence and danger, and secrets embodied in the people they once loved, but cannot now understand. Saylah Ivy, once shaman of her Salish tribe, now wife and mother, follows her white husband Julian as he seeks new adventure in the city.  Their love is their strength, but is it enough to help them face the conflicts that arise as Julian begins to make his mark fighting for the people who are too weak or too poor to fight for themselves? Meanwhile Saylah, with her gentle, sensitive nature and mystical sensibilities, continues to heal those she can, while the rhythm of her Native past calls out to her.


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SING TO ME OF DREAMS: Going back in time

CoverFinalMD-SingToMeOfDreamstakeFlightWhere it all began: SING TO ME OF DREAMS (Dream Suite, Book 1). The moment when Saylah begins to be free, and the sculpture that means ‘Take flight!’ to me. Here is an excerpt.
It was a warm summer day and the leaves of the maples were golden, the aspens pale green in the fine, filtered light. Saylah’s hair was restrained in a tidy knot by hairpins that hurt her head and reminded her how much she disliked the heavy, complicated way the Whites chose to dress. When a breeze touched her bare neck, she sighed with pleasure and reached up to take the pins from her hair. It fell loose down her back and she liked the way the breeze lifted it into the fragrant air, let it drift down to rest on her flushed cheek.
Brow furrowed, she moved pensively through the shifting shade. Then she came to the end of the path and stepped from the shadows of overgrown trees into a clearing thick with grass. Her gaze was drawn inexorably to a stump on the far side of the clearing. Once the tree had been a magnificent cedar, cut, no doubt, to clear land for the house. But the stump was taller than usual, and the bark had been carved, over many years, she thought, and perhaps by many hands, into a roughly textured deer.
Saylah was mesmerized by the power of the buck, which, though caught forever in rigid wood, seemed to live and breathe, even to stir in order to look at her with the soft eyes some gentle hand had shaped. The animal rose on its back legs, front legs bent in a graceful arc. On its head was a set of bone antlers that spread like the branches of a tangled tree. Only once before had she seen such magnificent antlers; those she had left on an altar with her blessing and her prayers for the People who had held them sacred.
Moving in a trance, she crossed the clearing, unaware of the dew that clung to her gown, impatient with her buttontop boots which pinched uncomfortably, slowed her down and held her back. She bent and tried to work the shoes free, but without her buttonhook, which lay at the bottom of her bag, the task was not easy. She found a twig and pried the buttons loose, dropped the shoes and her stockings beside her bag.
With a sigh of pleasure, she looked up, caught again by the power of the carved animal. When she was near enough, she touched the roughly shaved wood, ran her fingers down the side of the deer to its strong yet graceful legs. The wood was many shades and many textures; some had been exposed to the seasons for several years, some for only a few, some for a mere month.
She stood for a long time, transfixed by the texture of the wood, the ridges where the knife had not struck true, the planes that edged one into the other. Trailing her palm across the cedar, she moved around to see the animal from another angle.
Saylah stood paralyzed, painfully aware of the rapid beat of her heart. This magnificent buck, carved from a tall cedar stump so like the one she had killed years ago in the mists of legend that had become her childhood, was not a buck at all, but a doe. Whoever had taken knife in hand had not thought of the antlers that proclaimed this beautiful animal a male as the blade slipped through the rich red wood. Some unknown artist had given shape and substance to a memory, a precious piece of an old story, told and retold.
Saylah pressed her hand to her heart, which beat frantically against her palm. Until this moment, she had clung to the past, and now it had come back to her, made new. She smiled as she had not smiled for three years, freely and without restraint.
Then it came to her that she was not alone. She gasped and turned to see a white man, not much older than she, staring at her thoughtfully.
‘Forgive me,’ he said when he recognized her distress. ‘But you seemed lost in your thoughts, and I didn’t want to interrupt. I’ve never seen anyone look at the carved cedar deer in quite the way you did, like you’d found an old friend.’
Saylah stared at him, speechless. How had he guessed her thoughts, well-hidden from the eyes of most Whites?
‘Forgive me again,’ he murmured. ‘We haven’t been introduced. I’m Julian Ivy. You must be the woman the missionaries sent.’
She heard it then, the suppressed pain in his voice, the effort he made to sound at ease. ‘They call me Saylah.’ She noticed his muslin shirt, the sleeves rolled to the elbows, his earth-stained trousers and mud-caked shoes. He had been hard at work when she disturbed him.
She looked more closely at his face, at the lines between nose and mouth, carved deeply by sorrow, she guessed. She saw the film of sweat on his skin, his dark brown hair, blown into disorder by the wind.
He offered his hand in the greeting of his people. She was surprised he did not shrink from the touch of an Indian and a stranger. Saylah put her hand in his. Only then, as his fingers closed around hers, did she look directly into his hazel eyes. What she saw there made her ache with compassion and a fear she could not name. Those eyes were full of suffering, deeply rooted sorrow, a burden too heavy to bear, which he carried on his shoulders, and had for far too long.
Others might not have seen these things in Julian Ivy’s eyes; he had become a master at disguising what he felt. But to Saylah, it was as if he held a mirror that reflected her past, her secrets, her pain. Her sorrow gleamed on the polished surface like afternoon light on a green rippled lake.
‘Saylah,’ he said, breaking the stillness that had fallen between them, trying out the name on his tongue like a ripe red berry, ‘have you come to stay?’
She did not look at his smiling lips but at his eyes, which told his stories without words. Within those eyes was a plea he did not know existed, but she heard it just the same. She felt it as she had felt Kitkuni’s fear on the night of her marriage. As she had felt Koleili’s yearning when she named her Frenchman of smoke-dreamed memories.
But this plea Saylah could answer, because it was also her own. The lilting song of a stray breeze stirred, then settled into stillness. ‘I will stay,’ she told Julian Ivy, ‘for as long as you need me.’
Image may contain: 1 person, text

coverfinalmd-weaveformeadreamcovefinalmd-singtomeofdreamsJust a touch of the upcoming Weave for Me a Dream (sequel to Sing to Me of Dreams ) to tempt you–I hope.

Julian Ivy has accidentally discovered his mother’s journal in a trunk in the attic.

“Jamie stands, face turned toward the sky, though he does not absorb the light from the sun. Rather, I think the sun absorbs its light from him, for he is brilliant with dreams.”

Julian was stunned. In an instant, Simone had brought the inspired father of his youth back to him. He had seen Jamie stand just so, before he lost his faith; he had felt the beauty of a sunset pale before the power of his father’s dreams. But he had not tried to put into words that feeling of awe and incredulity. That his mother could have done so both shocked and secretly pleased him. The words blurred into wavering lines.


Congratulations to Lucinda Brant: my friend and favorite author.

Rakes And Rascals

salt-hendon-collectionGenre: Historical Romance (Georgian)

Collection Includes:

SALT BRIDE (Salt Hendon, #1)

When the Earl of Salt Hendon marries squire’s daughter Jane Despard, Society is aghast. But Jane and Salt share a secret past of heartache and mistrust. They are forced into a marriage neither wants; the Earl to honor a dying man’s wish; Jane to save her stepbrother from financial ruin. Beautiful inside and out, the patient and ever optimistic Jane believes love conquers all; the Earl will take some convincing. Enter Diana St. John, who has been living in a fool’s paradise believing she would be the next Countess of Salt Hendon. She will go to extreme lengths, even murder, to hold Salt’s attention. Can the newlyweds overcome past prejudices and sinister opposition to fall in love all over again?


Jane and Salt—four years of Happily Ever After
Sir Antony…

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Child of Awe by Kathryn Lynn Davis

I just discovered this thoughtful, intense and wonderful review of CHILD OF AWE. I’m thrilled!

The Book Igloo

Release date: First published in 1987.

Pages: 469-472

Age Range: 16+

Contains: References and descriptions of sexual scenes and moderate violence. (Some aspects may make readers feel uncomfortable).

Genre: Historical Romance

Awards: Romantic Times award for best Scottish historical

About The Book: Muriella Calder…a young Scots beauty with auburn hair and wondrous green eyes. Sole heir to castle and fabled fortune. Stolen from her family and betrothed against her will to the second son of a rival clan.

John Campbell…a proud young warrior and hero on the bloody fields of valor. His courage has won him honors for the Campbell clan and made his name a legend—but his bloodlust dismays his stolen bride.

Every corner of Muriella’s new world seems locked in violent struggle, but none so fierce as that which rages in her heart. She anxiously awaits the sweet awakening of love’s first passion—the tender touch and warm need…

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Release Day: Highland Charm, a Collection of Fantasy Romances from Kathryn Lynn Davis, April Holthaus, Victoria Zak, and Dawn Marie Hamilton

I’m so delighted with this collection and how it is doing on Amazon!

Supernatural Superlatives

Highland Charm

Highland Charm

Four full length romance novels of Scottish myth, fantasy and legend from authors Kathryn Lynn Davis, April Holthaus, Victoria Zak and Dawn Marie Hamilton. Available ONLY for the Summer.
Available at Amazon.

From the moment of her birth, Muriella Calder is heiress to a great fortune many Highland clans desire to make their own. Touched by The Sight, she struggles to understand herself, while fighting those who threaten her world: the violent clans who relish war; her cunning guardian, Archibald Campbell, the powerful Earl of Argyll—callously ambitious, and bound by loyalty to the Crown; John Campbell, the Earl’s second son—a strong, experienced warrior on the battlefield—who cannot begin to understand the mysterious woman he is forced to wed; and Elizabeth Campbell Maclean, a gentle woman whose heart is forfeit in a treaty with a man her father hates. Completely captivating, Child…

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An Adventure Not Far From Home

Savannah Grace takes us on another colorful escape/


11303512_475653372597121_1908919618_n[1] The day started off early after only 4 hours of sleep. The lack of sleep was due to a wonderful visit with a girlfriend to all you can eat sushi the night before.  Kees, Mom and I were in the car at 7am headed back to Antwerp, Belgium a 2 1/2 hour drive away. A few weeks ago I wrote a post about going down to help a friend with his Segway/speedboat tour company, well, that same friend needed more help, so we were on our way. I love when adventures like this just fall in your lap with just a few days notice.

It’s always nice to have Mom join us, although sometimes I think Kees only asks her to come so he doesn’t have to drive ….


Our adventure for the day began with taking four speedboats to the spot where the tour groups would be arriving over the course of a few hours. We were…

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Audiobook Review: A Laudable Production–both author Southard and narrator Gummer–I salute you both!

This sounds too wonderful to resist.

Booktalk with Eileen: Journaling a Journey -- Learning the Art of Crafting a Novel

“Southard has taken the facts about the great author and woven them into a credible, touching, and also entertaining portrait of a life.”  -Historical Novel Society

 “For those of you who are exhausted by the innumerable retellings of Austen’s novels, this is a style entirely new…. be rewarded by a quick paced novel unlike any you can ever have read, which injects new ideas and possibilities into the world of Jane Austen.” Laura Boyle, The Jane Austen Centre

17695612Title:A Jane Austen Day Dream
Author: Scott D. Southard
Genre: Literary Fiction, Romance
Published By: Madison Street Publishing
Published Date: April 23, 2013
Pages: 413

Narrator: Louisa Gummer
Listening Length: 11 hours, 50 minutes
Publisher: Madison Street Publishing
Release Date: September 23, 2014

About the Story: All her heroines find love in the end–but is there love waiting for Jane? Jane Austen spends her…

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A very different Christmas Carol Than Ebenezer Scrooge’s

Booktalk with Eileen: Journaling a Journey -- Learning the Art of Crafting a Novel

81pBZSH9QqL._SL1500_Title: Tim Cratchit’s Christmas Carol: The Sequel to the Celebrated Dickens Classic (a novella)

Author: Jim Piecuch

  • Pages: 215 pages
  • Publisher: Pocket Star (November 17, 2014)
  • Sold by: Simon and Schuster Digital Sales Inc

Purchase Price: $1.99



In A Christmas Carol, evil Scrooge was shown the error of his ways by three helpful ghosts and vowed to become a better person. Bob Cratchit and his family benefited most from Scrooge’s change of tune—but what happened after the goose was given, and Scrooge resolved to turn over a new leaf? 

Tim Cratchit’s Christmas Carolshows us Tiny Tim as an adult. Having recovered from his childhood ailment, he began his career helping the poor but has since taken up practice as a doctor to London’s wealthy elite. Though Tim leads a very successful life, he comes home at night to an empty house. But this holiday season…

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