Theirs was the only room on the third floor
of the small hotel, so no one noticed when they walked, hand in hand, down the
short hallway. Katherine had never done anything quite like this before, and
her hand shook as she took hold of the rail at the top of the stairs. She
looked at Steven and smiled nervously as he squeezed her hand in reassurance.Small lights gleamed on the landing below,
but the stairs were dark, her steps unsteady, and she stumbled twice on the way
down. Steven was holding her arm, though, and he caught her each time she
tripped. They stopped as they reached the hotel’s front door.“Are you all right?” he whispered.“Fine. It’s just dark.” She hugged him.
“Really.”“You have the key?”She reached into a pocket and pulled out
the ring that held both the key to their room and the one to the hotel’s door.
“Got it.”They opened the door and slipped out into
the darkness. Even though it was summer, the night air was cold and Katherine
pulled her sweater around her, tightly. Only in Scotland, she thought, would
she need a sweater in August. It was just after midnight, and the small
Scottish town was effectively closed for the night. Their hotel was dark,
except for a light in one room on the second floor. The other hotel, directly
across the street, was also dark.They turned to the left and walked down
High Street toward the central plaza. They passed two pubs, one on each side of
the street, both closed. Farther down, a third one, the Golden Lion, appeared
to be open—lights were visible through the window at least. Katherine thought
it unlikely that many patrons were still inside. If so, they were surely
sipping their last pints for the evening.They reached the plaza, the one part of
town that was brightly lit. It was surrounded by shops—a candy store, a shop
that carried Scottish woolens, two cafés, and one filled with what Katherine
called tourist junk—stuffed Nessies, t-shirts with cute slogans, tartan
ties, plastic swords, anything that might induce a tourist to part with a few
pounds or dollars.The Mercat Cross, the ancient symbol of
royal authority, stood in the center of the plaza. Some fifteen feet high, it
had occupied the same spot in the center of town for over five hundred years,
witnessing the town’s gradual change from a place of pilgrimage, to a bustling
market town, to the tourist attraction that it had become in recent years.The tourists came to see the ruins of the
great abbey, much as the pilgrims in centuries past had come to see it in its
glory. Katherine and Steven were going to the abbey, tonight.High Street ran through the plaza and they
continued for two more blocks before turning left on the B road that ran toward
the ruins. The buildings blocked the lights from the plaza and they had to
watch their steps to stay on the sidewalk that ran beside the narrow road.
Since it was late, there was no traffic—if a car should come speeding along,
the driver would be as surprised to find them on foot, as they would be to see
the car.The walkway ended abruptly and they stepped
off onto the grassy shoulder.When Katherine looked up, she could see the
stars. She had been in Scotland for almost six weeks and this was the first
time she had seen them. Perhaps it was a good omen.Ten minutes later, they reached the abbey.
The floodlights that illumined the ruins had been turned off and a single
streetlight in front of the visitor center provided the only illumination. A
chain hung across the entrance to the abbey grounds. Few visitors would walk
out from town,and since there was no place to park, other than in the car park,
the chain effectively closed the site to visitors.Steven started across the road, but
Katherine held back.The abbey seemed ominous in the darkness,
and Katherine could easily envision that the spirits of the monks who had once
lived within its walls still hovered about.Steven must have felt her hesitate because
he squeezed her arm.Katherine looked up into his eyes. Coming
here had been her idea and she wondered if he still thought it was a good plan.“You’re sure?” she whispered. “You want to
do this?”Steven nodded and hugged her. “Positive.”They crossed the highway, stepped over the
chain, and hurried across the brightly lit lawn, stopping when they reached the
shadows of the abbey’s walls. They had to walk slowly because the ground was uneven
and littered with stones, but they finally reached the side entrance to the
abbey’s church.The church had held up better than the rest
of the abbey. When the abbey had been disbanded in the mid fifteen hundreds,
the church had continued to be used as the parish church for another two
centuries. The walls were mostly complete, and the stone floor was still in
place. A roof and windows were all that would be needed to make the building
serviceable again.Katherine switched on a penlight when they
entered the church, confident that it would not be seen by a passing motorist.
Walking through the nave and the choir, they approached the high altar—the
altar itself was gone, but the raised platform, on which it had stood,
remained.To one side, a yellow rosebush was in full
bloom. The fact that it could survive in the abbey was amazing on its own, that
it bloomed each year in August, even more so. It was said that a
sixteenth-century abbot had removed stones from the floor in order to plant the
bush and that it bloomed once each year, on the anniversary of the last mass
said by the monks. Its water source was a mystery. The yellow rose had been
adopted as the symbol of the abbey, and later as the symbol of the town itself.Together, they knelt in front of the space
where the high altar had stood. Katherine unfolded a sheet of paper, placing it
on the ground. Steven held the light as they joined their right hands and
Katherine wrapped a purple cord around them. She picked up the paper, and
Steven began to read.“I, Steven Andrew Richardson, take thee,
Katherine Lee Jackson, to be my betrothed wife, as the law of the holy Kirk
shows, and thereto I plight thee my troth.”Katherine looked into his eyes. “I,
Katherine Lee Jackson, take thee, Steven Andrew Richardson, to be my betrothed
husband, as the law of the holy Kirk shows, and thereto I plight thee my
troth.”A smile spread across Katherine’s face. She
wanted to jump and shout, but she remembered that they were not supposed to be
in the abbey. She put her arms around Steven and squeezed as hard as she could.He hugged and kissed her in return. “We are
engaged now?” he whispered.“According to Celtic custom we are. I am
bound to you forever, unless you release me. You are bound to me.”They knelt in silence and she whispered a
prayer, asking that they would be able to carry out the plans they had made.
When she had finished, she raised her head and looked at Steven. Her eyes
followed his toward the rosebush. The moon had risen behind the abbey and its
light streamed through one of the small round windows on the side of the nave,
falling on a single rose at the end of an especially long cane.He reached out and pulled the rose toward
them. The fragrance was sweet, reminding Katherine of a perfume that had once
been her favorite.“Whenever you see a yellow rose, Katie,
think of me.” He said quietly. “Every time you see one, remember that I love
you.”Steven released the rose and took her hand
in his. “Everything will work out. You’ll see.”After another minute, he helped her to her
feet and they retraced their steps to the entrance. A light raked across the
door just before they reached it, and he peered around the wall.Two police officers stood at the chain,
shining lights around the ruins.“They couldn’t have seen my light,” she
whispered.“Just a routine check. If they had seen the
light, they would have come in.”After several minutes, the officers drove
away. Katherine and Steven hurried down the road and returned to town.The police car was in the plaza as they
turned onto High Street.“Good evening, Officer,” Katherine said as
they passed.“Good evening, ma’am. It’s a bit late for a
stroll.”“We’re going in now, Officer. Good night.”“Good night, ma’am.”Reaching the hotel, Katherine looked back
down the street. The officer was still watching them. She inserted the key,
opened the door, and carefully, they climbed the stairs.Reaching their room, they changed clothes
and kissed good night. Then, as they had for the past two weeks, Katherine lay
under the covers, Steven on top. He put his arm around her and they slept.
- What
would you say was the most fun about writing this book?
Bill Wilson is the
villain in The Handfasting. During
the final re-write, one of the goals became to show him clearly as the
despicable person he really was. Don’t get me wrong, he already was bad, really
bad, and I thoroughly enjoyed writing supporting scenes to highlight his character.
- Give
us some insight into the main character. What does he/she do that is so
special?
In The Handfasting, Katherine
Jackson and Steven Richardson meet while they are touring Great Britain during
the summer after Katherine finished high school. They fall in love and become
engaged to marry. Circumstances cause
them to be separated for the next ten
years
In
those ten years, Katherine finishes college, completes med school, and becomes
a doctor. For a decade, she waits, hopes, and prays that Steven will keep his
promise to find her, and, on her birthday, he does.
Steven,
though, is not Katherine's only suitor. Bill Wilson has known her since they
were in high school. He has long planned to wed her, and he finally decides to
stake his claim. His methods leave a lot to be desired, and the conflict turns
vicious.
Katherine
is a strong woman who finds herself in an impossible situation, and she is
forced choose the future that she wants.
- What are you working on right now?
Tentatively titled, To Love Again, I am working on the story
of Drew and Amy, two people in their mid-fifties. After their spouses die, Drew and Amy meet and
fall in love. Adolescents may face parental opposition when they fall in love,
but all sorts of people - children, grandchildren, friends and acquaintances - have
strong feelings about this relationship! Not all of those feelings are positive
ones.
What happens when one
becomes involved in a program designed to help a person discover what she
really wants out of life? In Masquerade,
a sequel to my first book, The Reunion,
Allison Bannister, one of the main characters from that book, finds that a lot
of unexpected things can happen! I am not completely satisfied, however, with
how Allison copes with the surprising outcomes, and it will be interesting to
see whether Masquerade or To Love Again is published first..
- What
genre are your books?
I don’t set out to
write a particular genre. I write the story and the genre develops. My first
two books have been romances.
- What
draws you to this genre?
I cannot imagine that
anyone would not like a good love story. It makes me feel good when people find
true love and overcome obstacles that threaten to keep them apart.
- What is your favorite color?
Blue. I wear blue
clothes – shirts, ties, pants, suits, sweats and sweaters. I use a blue mouse
with my computer. I once lived in a blue house, I drive a blue car, and I have
a wife, a cat (named Bonnie Blue), and two daughters, all of whom have blue
eyes.
- What
is your favorite food?
I have to choose one???
Bread wins, hands down: loaf bread, rolls, bagels, pretzels, biscuits, muffins,
pancakes, waffles, flat bread, banana bread... I like white bread, whole wheat
bread, potato bread, and multigrain bread.
I bake bread, usually
rolls of some kind, almost every Sunday. I bake biscuits and muffins during the
week. I once came across a “bread diet,” and neither my daughter nor I could
think of anything that could possibly be better.
- Are
you a cat or dog person? Why?
Cats. Cats are small,
cuddly (when they want to be), and independent
Priscilla and Pawley
(the “Gray Ghost of Pawley’s Island,” a reference to her color and to a spirit
that walks the beach before storms strike Pawley’s Island on the Carolina coast),
Boule do Neige (French, snow ball) and Jenny have all lived at the Burnett
house over the years. Our cats to tend to have long lives: Priscilla and Neige
each saw their eighteenth birthdays.
Bonnie Blue (If you have
ever read Gone with the Wind, you
will understand the reference) lives with us now. .She is pure white with deep
blue eyes. She is also deaf. Once she was lying on my wife’s cell phone when it
rang. Bonnie did not even move! Of course, we tend to forget that she is deaf, and
we talk to her as if she could hear every word we say.
- How
are you published (*i.e. indie, traditional, or both) and why?
My books have been
independently published. Traditional publishing requires me to find an agent
who likes my book, who can find a publisher who likes my book, who may help me find readers who will like
my book. By publishing independently, I skip the two initial steps.
- Do
you have any amusing stories from your adventures in the writing world?
When my daughter was in
college, I would tell her to find a quiet place to study, and I objected when
she began to take her schoolwork to the coffee shop of one of the bookstores in
town.
When I began to write,
in what” quiet” location did I choose to work? Starbucks, of course! I do some
of my best work while sipping coffee at Starbucks. When writing a first draft,
I aim for one thousand words a day, and it generally takes me about one hour,
and one tall cup, to meet my goal.
- What
is your favorite motivational phrase?
“All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be
well.” - St Julian of Norwich
- What is your
favorite book and why?
I do not have a favorite book. However if you look at what I
have read over the past few years, you’ll find several authors to whom I have
turned several times.
Susanna Kearsley’s time-slip romances are
captivating and the methods by which people pass between times are always
different and interesting. Michael Wallace writes about a fundamentalist Mormon
group in southern Utah. His action scenes are gripping. Christopher Reich is a
master of the spy novel. Michael Baron places his characters in impossible,
heart-rending situations
I
loved the Harry Potter books. I read the first volume after hearing a member of
our State School Board ranting about how evil it was. I wondered how it could
possibly be as bad as the woman claimed. Well, I was hooked. My daughter gave
me the last two volumes, with delivery on the day of release.
Finally,
Harper Lee is one of the master story-tellers of all time. It is a shame that To Kill a Mockingbird was her single
book.
- What
advice would you give to your younger self?
When I went to college,
I was planning to study journalism. I changed my major to psychology. I would
tell my younger self not to stop writing.
- To end: Give us three Good to Know things about you. Be creative.
1
I enjoy history. When our children were
little, we took them everywhere –Charleston, Williamsburg, New Orleans, Boston.
Once, after we toured several battlefields in Virginia, my daughter Carrie told
us that when you have seen one battlefield, you’ve seen them all: video,
monuments, empty fields, trees, maybe a creek…
2
I attended the University of Georgia.
“Go Dawgs! Sic ‘em!”
3
I have a PhD in educational research,
and I spent thirty years as a statistician/ data analyst. I was director of
research at our state’s department of education. Talk about “doing things by
the numbers”! Having forsaken the “certainty” of math, I’m happy, now, as I write.
