Thrilling new stand-alone historical romance! Special pre-order ebook price. Get ready for book #2 in the Avelynn series!
Grab your copy today. <3 xo
Amazon Canada: http://amzn.to/2cFVXI1
Amazon USA: http://amzn.to/2cglh6i
I have a wild event planned for Uxbridge, Ontario on Saturday, March 5th!
I’ll be at Blue Heron Books from 2-4pm. And I’m bringing friends. 😀
Since I’m going to be signing copies of Avelynn, I wanted to showcase the rich historical detail outlined in the book. In order to do that, I needed Vikings.
So, I found some wonderful young men who were willing to hangout at the store on March 5th, shirtless, whilst handing out chocolate and posing with fans.
In anticipation of the event, I had a photo shoot to give everyone a little taste of what to look forward to. Here’s a little behind the scenes peek into what my Saturday night looked like.
Hope to see everyone at Blue Heron Books on March 5th!
So much fun, I cannot wait until the 5th!
I received the best early Christmas present EVER. Avelynn was featured in Canada’s The Globe and Mail, our national newspaper. Here’s a sneak peek:
“Ontario-dwelling Marissa Campbell’s debut, Avelynn, is a must-read for Diana Gabaldon fans – but also for anyone in the mood to escape into an enchanting, romantic world vividly portrayed…Campbell writes about Alrik and Avelynn’s star-crossed love affair in a gorgeous, breathless manner that should cement her status as a Canadian author to watch.”
To read the full review click HERE!
I am ecstatic and so humbled.
What a wonderful day. <3
In my debut historical novel, the Goddess plays an important role in Avelynn’s faith. But who are these mystical beings? Not only am I going to introduce you to the Goddess and her four distinct personalities, but I’m going to start blogging from their unique perspectives. Have a question for the Goddess? Wondering about love? Need strength and encouragement to apply for that new job? Let the Goddess help.
All comments and posts are for fun and entertainment purposes only. They are not meant to replace advice or guidance from a doctor or therapist.
If you’re ready to play, sit back and enjoy a conversation with the Goddess.
Is the creative, bubbly sprite. A Maiden, she is young at heart and playful, yet she embodies wisdom. She governs over magic and music, poetry and art. She is the gateway to enlightenment and higher planes of consciousness.
Symbols: North, Swan, Winter, Mental, Air, Moon and Stars
Is the Queen. She is the embodiment of feminism and femininity, empowerment and independence. She is the most passionate of the four sisters, governing over love and desire. Sultry and strong, she is like a kick-ass Venus.
Symbols: East, Horse, Spring, Spiritual, Fire, Sun and Sky
Is the Mother. She is the nurturer, the giver, and the sustainer. She governs over the home and hearth, over marriage and motherhood. She is judge, weighing and guiding morals, virtues and vices. She is warm and approachable, kind, and nonjudgmental.
Symbols: South, Cattle/Boar, Summer, Physical, Earth, Hills and Plains
Is the Crone. No old hag, Badb shape shifts and lures men to her bidding. She is dangerous and powerful. She can grant you strength and courage, but can just as easily strike you down with death and destruction. She promises rebirth. Like the phoenix, you will come through adversity transformed. She is sassy and calculating, alluring and captivating.
Symbols: West, Wolf/Raven, Autumn, Emotion, Water, Oceans and Rivers
He sat in the rocker. Wooden and hard, the chair had a cushion of square fabric flattened by years of use. A brown and yellow afghan spilled over one corner. The fireplace crackled.
The wool cardigan tugged at his shoulders, the weight dragging down his stooped frame. His hand, the skin paper thin, freckled with age spots, and tinted blue with veins, reached into a trouser pocket and withdrew a yellowed handkerchief.
A barking cough stole his breath, and his eyes watered. He dabbed at the tears then pushed his thick glasses higher. They edged back down the sharp slant of his nose.
His gazed travelled to the frost covered window, the lead glass dimpled and thick. No warmth touched his eyes, only a passive disinterest. His mind a hopeless blank as he searched for some lost memory, something to tie him to this place.
This was a writing prompt from a wonderful workshop I took called Write to Win! presented by Ruth Walker & Dorothea Helms. I invite you to check out their website: http://writescape.ca/writescape/workshops-2/write-to-win/
The concept of the prompt was to ‘show’ us a character—as opposed to ‘telling’ us. Rather than write: ‘he was old and thin,’ create an image in the reader’s mind. I hope you see him as clearly as I do. xo
To take my one-word-a-post concept even further, I’m going to attempt to go through the entire alphabet, highlighting the keys to an abundant, passionate life one word at a time. And to start this crazy train off right, I’m picking the word: Awesome.
I love the word awesome. I remember meeting someone who said that awesome was overused. He complained that we had lost the original meaning of the word and it was just superfluous. Bummer, man. Seriously.
Here’s what my tried and true, 1977 edition of The Living Webster has to say: Awesome: Inspiring awe; as, an awesome display of talent; characterized by awe. Now let’s flash forward a few years to my 2006 edition of the Oxford Canadian Dictionary: Awesome: 1. Inspiring awe; 2. slang excellent.
Great, fantastic, excellent, wonderful . . . these are all good, but awesome? That hits the spot. It’s a simple word expressing supreme awesomeness!
“How do you feel today?”
“I feel awesome!”
“How was the concert?”
“What kind of day would you like to have?”
“I’d like to have a lovely day.” or
“I’d like to have a wonderful day?” or perhaps
“I’d like to have a wicked, totally freaking awesome day today!”
Even if we added all the adverbs to lovely, wonderful, or great, it just doesn’t have the same ring to it. And who’s to say we have lost the original meaning of the word? I’d love each day to inspire and create awe in me. I’d love to be blown away by life, in awe of each moment. I want my life to be most excellent, dude. I want it to be freaking awesome!
Far from being overused, this word isn’t used nearly enough. Why? Because most people don’t feel awesome every day of their lives. We get too bogged down in expectations and demands. We force ourselves to fit into other people’s visions for us, to allow their judgements to influence our behaviours and our choice of words, clothes, actions, careers, music, etc. We can’t be awesome when we are giving up our authenticity, or our passions and dreams. There’s no room for awesome there.
Awesome stems from being enlivened by life, by allowing our passions and dreams, our goals and desires a place to grow and flourish. When we allow others to tamp down our vitality, it’s very difficult to find awe in our daily lives, to find awe in each moment. But if we plant our feet firmly on the passionate path, staying true to what makes us happy, being honest with ourselves and others when we explain what we need and what we want out of our relationships, careers, etc., we will find that life can and should be totally awesome.
Raindrops glisten and plop, falling off glossy leaves. My boots shuffle, the dirt loose under foot. The shovel rests against a slender sapling in silent vigil. A smooth grey rock, streaked with veins of pink and white, placed with care—a reminder. The peony weeps velvet blossoms. The air is still, heavy with damp. The clouds mourn, mixing with my tears. Plop, plop. I clasp the worn collar in my hands, the leash limp hangs by the back door. Good-bye.
A little Viking foreplay … a peak from Raven’s Blood … Enjoy 😀
By the time the wine was finished, I was feeling warm and languid. “You’ve been to Francia and Ireland … but where is home?”
“I am from Västergarn, Gotland, an island off the eastern coast of Sweden. My Grandfather is Jarl there.” He leaned against the log, the fire between us. “And you are from England.”
“I live a day’s ride from here. It was quite the adventure to meet you this evening.” I proceeded to tell him about Ealhswith and her daring plan to help me with my deception.
“I am forever in her debt.” He poked the fire with a stick, sending a procession of hot, orange embers floating upwards. “I hadn’t thought of the means necessary for you to meet me. I was focused solely on what it took to make my way back to you.”
It hadn’t occurred to me there would be challenges for him either, but I felt rather pleased with the notion that he had gone to some length to see me again. “What could possibly stop a Viking from getting what he wants?”
The distance between us evaporated, and he pulled me onto his lap, my skirt rucked up to my waist, his intentions hard and clear beneath me.
“Nothing,” he said and proved it.
What do nudist colonies, biker bars, zip lining, and air travel have in common? They are all suggestions from my well intentioned friends when I asked them to give me ideas … things to do in my new risk taking adventure.
Sometimes, life swings us into ruts … periods of inaction or immobility. Lately, I’ve noticed that I’ve gotten caught up in the safety and security of the mundane, the apathy of routine, and I find life just doesn’t hold the same passion, the same spark it used to.
Novelty is the spice of life—new people, new situations. But when we are involved in long-term relationships, long-term jobs, mortgage payments that will take twenty-five years or more to pay off … things can get … well boring. They drag. The fun gets sucked out of it all.
Risk taking brings back the excitement. It fills us with passion and vitality. It throws our world upside down. It shakes things up, enlivens us. But taking a risk, trying something new—something perhaps out of our comfort zone—also takes courage.
I suffer from anxiety. Always have. It’s just something I live with. But I’ve noticed as time goes on, my ‘threshold’ for stress is getting lower and lower. My ability to handle multiple things thrown my way has gotten smaller and smaller. Little things that would have slid off my back, like water off a duck, now stick, and congeal, manifesting as headaches, IBS, or muscle tension.
I have big heart-pounding, stomach-clenching, hands-sweating fears around bridges, ferries, and airplanes. I don’t want to be under a bridge (it could collapse on me). I don’t want to be on the bridge (it could collapse and I would fall down with it. I don’t want to be on a ferry trapped in my car if the boat goes down. And I certainly do not want to be trapped in an airplane, since the idea of plummeting thirty thousand feet to a fiery death has no attraction for me whatsoever.
We all have ‘big’ fears, but when even little things start to throw us for a loop … that’s when we have to examine our lives and consider … how can I stop this from getting out of hand.
One way to do that is to desensitize ourselves to the fear, the anxiety. If you are afraid of snakes, you might start by looking at a picture of a snake, then imagining/visualizing yourself in a pet store with a small garter snake tucked safely behind glass. Next steps would be to actually walk into the pet store. Just being in the same building as snakes, then maybe walking to where you can actually see them, then one day, ultimately, holding one. For people who are afraid of snakes, even the thought of that final step is terrifying.
Risk taking involves building our ‘Risk Muscle’. This isn’t something we can just jump into—I for one am not about to jump out of a plane. You have to start small, build your muscle one step at a time. Baby steps. I may start with imaging myself on a bridge, then work up to actually standing under the bridge, watching my breath, in and out, in and out, in and out, until the wave of anxiety passes. And it will, if I can stay there long enough. Every strong emotion has a wave value/expression to it. It ebbs and flows. Anger, sadness, grief, even panic attacks, come on strong, peak, then reside. The trick is learning how to ride the wave.
So I have a plan. I’m going to build my risk muscle slowly. Starting small … little things like, maybe dying my hair another colour. I’ve been blonde … well, since I was born. Maybe trying something I wouldn’t normally ever eat that doesn’t compromise my gastric sensitivities.
Ultimately I’d like to get on a plane and go somewhere. This is not to say I haven’t been on a plane – I’ve been on two – each twenty years apart – and each time terrifying. But I did it, and I’d like to try and do it again.
But I need your help. I need ideas, suggestions. What are some risks I can take? What are you afraid of? What would you like to try to overcome? Maybe you might like to try the challenge with me?
I’d love to hear your thoughts.