Friday Guest Post: Debbie Christiana

Thank you, Pam, for having me as your guest today. My story in BELTANE, The Thirteen Steps, is about, Isabella, a Sicilian Strega who is falsely accused of consorting with the Devil and comes back one hundred years later, seeking reven…er, justice. 

As a child, my Sicilian grandmother would tell us of the Stregas in her village. She spoke about them with respect, not fear, explaining they possessed certain gifts that others did not. They understood the secrets of nature and knew how to use the healing properties of herbs and plants.

When I was older, I became interested in Paganism and all its many believe systems, from Native Americans, to Buddhism, to Wicca. For me, it was natural to delve into and learn about Italian witchcraft.

Stregheria or La Vecchia Religione, The Old Religion, share some aspects of Wicca, but in itself is unique. The main distinction, until fairly recently, is that Stregheria was a hereditary religion. One could simply not become a Strega or Stregone (male), you had to be “of the blood.”  Secrets, potions, and incantations passed from generation to generation and were not spoken of outside of the sacred bloodline. Many mysteries of the ancient ways of Stregheria remain that only a few are privy to.

Wiccans follow the creed, An it harm none, do what you will. Stregas follow the same rule, do as thy wilt, as long as you are willing to take responsibility for your actions. While having no intention to cause harm to anyone, and unwilling to strike first, if a Strega is attacked they will fight back, with every intention of winning. This was part of my inspiration for Isabella’s story. Here’s a short excerpt. I hope you enjoy it.

***

The thirteen wooden steps to the gallows creaked beneath Isabella, moaning a dismal welcome to the top.  The village of Messina, Sicily hadn’t hung a witch in over three hundred years.  At the height of the Spanish Inquisition, Sicilians showed tolerance for those who practiced the ancient religion of Stregheria, but today that would change. With her hands bound behind her, Isabella walked to her death.

She peered into the crowded sea of spectators below and fixated on her accuser- The Visconte of Sardinia.  He stood tall, his broad chest proclaiming self-importance.  Beneath the smug, arrogant expression, a longing lingered in his eyes. She refused his advances to have her in his bed. Isabella invited men she found desirable to share her love, not the other way around.  Now she would pay for it with her life.

           

“My heart is heavy with sorrow that after years of practicing the ways of the Strega with honor,” Reverendo Signor Parroco Fiolisi announced, “you allowed the devil into your heart and soul.”

           

The devil was a ridiculous creature Christians used as a scapegoat for things they didn’t understand and to justify their cruelty.  Isabella would never associate with such a reprehensible entity – even if it existed.

“Isabella Cangelosi,” the rotund parish priest continued, his deep voice booming with grim piety. “You are sentenced to hang until dead for the crime of collaboration with Satan, today, Friday, October thirteenth, the year of our Lord, eighteen ninety eight.  May God have mercy on your soul.”

Cries of grief echoed from the onlookers, most of whom she had known her entire life. It was no secret who she was. They came to her to cure their ailments and heal their wounds. For aphrodisiacs and love potions. Women wanted her to ease the pain of childbirth and help bring their babies into the world.  She knew their secrets, too. Many a maiden paid her a visit to rid them of an unwanted burden after spending time with the Visconte.  A few even sought her out after confessing their sins to Reverendo Signor Parroco Fiolisi.  She was not a gossip. It was not the Strega way.

“I’m so sorry, Signorina Isabella.” Roberto, a man of considerable bulk, whose virility returned thanks to a simple herb from her, looped the noose around her neck.

“Grazie, Roberto,” she said. “This isn’t your fault.” With her head held high and more bravado than she felt, she spoke. “I am innocent of this charge. My family will not soon forget this injustice. Neither will the Visconte’s, if they ever falsely condemn another.”

           

She was plunged into darkness and the pungent stench of rotten onions filled her nostrils as a burlap sack enveloped her head.  After a couple breaths, the air around her was suffocating. She tightened her gut and braced herself, calling on the Goddess Diana for a quick death.

           

The floor jerked out beneath her.

BIO:

Debbie Christiana would sit in her room as a little girl and write stories about ghosts, unexplained events and things that go bump in the night. She combined her love of the paranormal with her fascination of unusual love stories and decided to write paranormal romance.  Her debut novel, Twin Flames, was released in 2011 with Black Opal Books. Her second book, Solstice, is a 2013 release. This year she’s had two short stories published. The Land of the Rising Sun, was one of ten included in the anthology BITES: Ten Tales of Vampires and The Thirteen Steps is featured in BELTANE: Ten Tales of Witchcraft. Debbie is a member of RWA and Secretary of the Romance Writers Chapter of Connecticut and Lower New York.  She lives in Connecticut with her husband and three children.

www.debbiechristiana.com

Twitter: @DebChristiana

Facebook: Debbie Christiana, author

Friday Guest Post: Mertianna Georgia

Mertianna Georgia Interview Intro:

Mertianna currently lives with her husband, son, and three dogs in Northern California. At a young age, while traveling the globe with her military family, she discovered the joys of reading. Armed with a fascination for science fiction, the paranormal, and fantasy, she amused, shocked, and impressed her teachers with her imaginative stories.

As an adult, reality reared its head, and she joined the business workforce. After many years working as a professional manager while secretly wishing she was a writer, she took a detour from the corporate world to immerse herself in the fictional worlds of her own making.

She has accumulated multiple graduate degrees in business and survived years of doctoral studies in psychology, all of which undoubtedly has influenced how her characters behave or don’t behave as the case may be.

Mertianna is the proud creator of the SYNEMANCER series which currently consists of 1 book - “Syn in the City”.   She is currently working on another SYNEMANCER story, “Angel of Syn”.

For those of you new to Mertianna’s work, we thought we’d give you the book synopses for the books to get you up to speed…

“Syn in the City, SYNEMANCER #1

Cara Augustine came from a long line of powerful witches, but her powers didn't manifest until she celebrated her 21st birthday with her cousins Evika and Sonya in San Francisco. To Cara's horror, she awakens the next morning in bed with a dead stranger and Evika is missing. As Cara searches for her missing cousin, her powers spin her life wildly out of control.

“Angel of Syn”, SYNEMANCER #2:

Coming in 2012

Cara Augustine still has men issues but now the supernatural police are after her for breaking a major Covenant. When she accidentally made a werewolf her familiar, it amounted to enslaving a human — the penalty? Death.  Throw in a power-mad French werewolf, a half-angel/half-witch bodyguard who’s obsessed with her, and getting trapped in a strange mirror dimension and you have Cara’s out-of-control life since becoming a Synemancer.

Story ideas.  Where do they come from?  I often have people say to me “how to think this stuff up?”  I’d like to believe it’s in a good way, but you never know.  I enjoy writing short stories.  They allow me to explore different ideas and different genres without having to commit to a full-blown novel.  I write fantasy, mystery, romance, and other types of short stories.

Where do story ideas come from?  For me they come from asking “What If?”  For my short story in “Beltane: Ten Tales of Witchcraft” I took as inspiration one of Aesop’s Fables, you know the guy who wrote all those little morality tales? 

One of his Fables, called the Cat Maiden involved the gods disputing whether it was possible for a living being to change its nature.  Jupiter said "Yes," but Venus said "No." So, to try the question, Jupiter turned a Cat into a Maiden, and gave her to a young man for a wife. The wedding was duly performed and the young couple sat down to the wedding-feast. 

"See," said Jupiter, to Venus, "how becomingly she behaves. Who could tell that yesterday she was but a Cat? Surely her nature is changed?" "Wait a minute," replied Venus, and let loose a mouse into the room. No sooner did the bride see this than she jumped up from her seat and tried to pounce upon the mouse. "Ah, you see," said Venus: Moral of Aesops Fable: Nature will out

So I asked myself, what if this story had a twist?  What if a crippled young man saved a kitten from bullies? What if he had a magical legacy that could only be his if he got married?  What if none of the women in his village could marry him?  Bring in a kind-hearted sorcerer and witch who tried to turn the cat into a maiden?  But then the same bullies who tried to kill the kitten started to be killed by a wild animal?  Well I won’t give away anything else, but the story took on a life of its own after that.

“What if” questions are hugely powerful and I ask myself this question all the time.  Maybe I got from my son.  When he was little, it was his favorite question, in addition to the mainstay of all young children, “Why?”

We can have that child’s curiosity and imagination at any age. Next time you see something, read something, or hear something interesting, ask yourself “What If?” and see what happens.  Believe me, its lots of fun and costs nothing.  Now that’s entertainment.

Tuesday Guest Post: Liv Rancourt

Thanks, Pamela, for the chance to be your guest here on the blog. It looks like I’m in some good company!

So, I wanted to talk about my short story “An Accidental Witch” from the anthology Beltane: Ten Tales of Witchcraft. It’s a fun little story, but kind of a departure for a good Catholic like me. I mean, I’m the go-to girl if you have questions about Gregorian chant, but witchcraft? Not so much.

So what went into the spell that created “An Accidental Witch”? Well, it was…

One Part Stephanie Plum…Okay, I L-U-V-Love Janet Evanovich and I’m not ashamed to admit it. She does so many things right in her books! If I sound like I want to be her, it’s because I do.

One Part Connie’s (handsome!) older brother…When I was in high school, my friend Connie’s brother Richard was away at school at Notre Dame. His periodic holiday visitations were always a cause for fluttering. And, yeah, their family is Portuguese. Why make stuff up when real life hands you a character?

One Part prompting from the editor…I can’t remember if it was email or twitter, but Rayne (Hall, a truly amazing editor!) & I were bouncing ideas back and forth, and one of her suggestions had to with examining the differences between witches who actually practice and those who are just in it for show.

That resulted in…

One Part actual philosophical debate…I’ve done some reading about Wicca/witchcraft/Paganism, and while as a religion it’s a lot less structured than, say, Catholicism, there are many, many seekers out there. I think in ANY religion you can find people who are just Acting, as opposed to sincerely searching, and I was trying to play with that a little here.

One Part sleep deprivation…I knew Rayne had a deadline and so I was feeling a little bit of pressure, because while I’d promised to come up with something, the actual specifics of that something were a wee bit vague. Or even nonexistent. I  worked a Thursday night shift and went to bed Friday morning, waking up after only three or four hours. And walking across the bedroom floor that afternoon, I had the story. I wrote it up before bed that night and emailed the draft to Rayne the next day.

And

One Part luck…Seriously? A 5,000 word story in a day? If that ain’t luck, I don’t know what is.

So there you have it. No Eye of Newt required. Just a little life experience and freaky-fan-girl love, and you’ve got “An Accidental Witch”. I hope you check it out, along with all the other great stories in Beltane: Ten Tales of Witchcraft. And have a Happy Halloween, or Samhain, or All Souls Day, or whatever you choose to celebrate!

Peace,

Liv

An Accidental Witch (Excerpt)

By

Liv Rancourt

A little harmless magic nearly turns into more than this Wiccan can handle.

Just for the record, I’m not a witch. I practice Wicca, which is a slightly different thing. Stop. I can hear you groaning from here, and can assure you that I do NOT take myself too seriously, and I DO have a sense of humor.

About some things.

My friend Maybelle, on the other hand, is an actual witch. She and her coven are out to change the world with a series of “Magicks” with a capital M. They’re showy but relatively harmless. They gather in the forest wearing lots of drapey fabric, cast their circle, light candles, chant, and dance, and when that drapey fabric interferes with their dancing, they take much of it off. It can be pretty wild stuff for a bunch of girls from Shelburne Falls, a little town on the western edge of Massachusetts that’s better known for its touristy “Bridge of Flowers” than for witchcraft. We live in the shadow of Salem, but the coven can fly their broomsticks under the radar here.

Maybelle and I met for dinner about once a month. October was my month to choose the restaurant, so we were at Pizza Carvahlo, the best restaurant on Main Street. It happened to be run by one Richard Carvahlo, whose hearty Portuguese nose, strong woodworker’s hands, and fiery black eyes had been out of my league since high school. Just as I indulged Maybelle’s tales of Magicks, she indulged my mooning over Richard. It was a level playing field.

On this night, my favorite witch was late, which was unusual. When she finally bustled in, she had on a floor-length black hooded cape that latched in front with a series of buckles made out of old cogs and gears. Underneath was a purple velvet gown with a black corset laced up the front. She had on huge hoop earrings big enough for me to put my fist through, and her loopy salt-n-pepper curls were tied up in a messy bun on the top of her head. Apparently the coven was experimenting with Steampunk. It was all I could do not to giggle

She dropped into the seat across from me. “I have got the biggest news ever.”

I swallowed a mouthful of water, using the sweating glass to hide my grin. “Really? Ever? Like, bigger than the time you and the girls tried to recruit high school seniors for that meditation marathon?” Because eighteen year olds are the most focused creatures on this planet. I swear.

“Charlotte.” She looked at me sternly over the top of her wire-framed glasses. “That would have totally worked if they hadn’t kept trying to make out with each other over by the rest rooms.”

This time I grinned openly, remembering her story of how the circle kept getting smaller and smaller as the students snuck off for bathroom breaks…and didn’t make it back. “Yeah, and that’s not counting the ones who were over by the creek smoking pot.” My tone of voice might have been a wee bit sarcastic. See, I do have a sense of humor.

“Well, this is much a much bigger deal, anyway.”

I flipped open the laminated menu, pulling myself away from Maybelle’s drama to do a quick scan of the room. No Richard sightings. Darn. “Okay, don’t keep me in suspense. What’s going on?”

Beltane: Ten Tales of Witchcraft is available from Amazon and Smashwords.

Liv Rancourt writes paranormal and romance, often at the same time. She lives with her husband, two teenagers, two cats and one wayward puppy. She likes to create stories that have happy endings, and finds it is a good way to balance her other job in the neonatal intensive care unit. Liv can be found on-line at her website & blog (www.livrancourt.com), on Facebook (www.facebook.com/liv.rancourt), or on Twitter (www.twitter.com/LivRancourt).