Where it all Began by Nancy M Bell

 

To find out more about Nancy's books please click on the cover above.

Laurel's Quest was originally published by a now defunct Canadian publishing house in  2010. It was re-published in 2014 by BWL Publishing Inc. updated as Laurel's Quest with a new cover and some new text. It is my first published novel and is very dear to my heart. Laurel's Quest is currently being offered for free (as an ebook) at Amazon.com and .ca. I am thrilled to offer readers the chance to step into the magical world that exists just a step sideways from the World as We Know It. A world filled with magic and wonder and a few scary moments as well. Cornish Piskies, selkies, Morgrawr the sea monster along with a cast of intrepid friends who follow the clues to solve a riddle that may save a life. The story starts in southern Alberta but soon moves to Cornwall UK. Set against the beautiful and rugged country of the southwest Laurel's search takes her along the Michael and Mary earth energy lines that cross the country from Carn les Boels, an old hill fort in Cornwall, to East Anglia. Laurel's journey takes her Glastonbury Tor not once but twice before she comes face to face with Gwyn ap Nudd beneath the Tor in the crystal caves where Arthur is rumoured to be sleeping. Laurel's Quest is the first book in the Cornwall Adventures, A Step Beyond is the second and here we pick up one of the secondary character's story. Gort is one of Laurel's gang of seekers and in the second books follows his own journey of coming of age. The third book is Go Gently where we finally meet Laurel's Gramma Bella whose letters figure in Laurel's Quest. We get to know Laurel's father Colt better in Go Gently and understand better why his estranged from his mother, Laurel's beloved Gramma Bella. 

I am currently working on Laurel's Choice which is a stand alone book, but you can be sure the usual suspects will show up. Gramma Bella, Vear Du the selkie, her group of friends from her quest and there might even be a wedding in the future...you just never know. Below is an excerpt from Laurel's Quest.

This is where Laurel's get the first clue from the 'Obby 'Orse in Padstow on May Day. If you want to learn more about this age old tradition just google it. It's fascinating stuff. 

From Chapter Six  The 'Obby 'Orse Clue  Laurel's Quest Copyright 2015

 

“How am I going to know where to look for the clue once we get to Padstow?” Laurel frowned.

“Did the Lady give any indication where you would find the clue?” Aisling asked.

“I don’t think so.”

“Think harder,” Coll growled.

“I am.”

“What did she say again? I don’t remember exactly,” Gort broke in quietly.

“She just said I would get the first clue on May Day in Padstow. She talked about the filly that wasn’t born yet and holding death in my hand.”

“So do we have to find a pregnant mare somewhere in Padstow? That’ll be easy,” Coll snorted.

“Quit being so negative,” Aisling admonished Coll. “I don’t think we’ll have to look too far. I think the clue will find us.”

“So we just go to Padstow, join in the festival, and wait and see what happens?” Gort asked.

“I think that’s best.” Aisling nodded.

“What about what I think?” Laurel broke in.

Coll sighed. “What do you think we should do, then?”

“I don’t know. I just feel like I should have a plan of some kind.” Her frustration was plain in her tone.

“Let’s just wait and see. Maybe we’ll come up with something before we get there,” Aisling said.

The bright, clear May Day morning found their small group looking for a parking spot in Padstow. The town was crowded with tourists and locals, all vying for the best place to see the festivities. Those who weren’t actively involved in the festivities jostled for space on the edges of the narrow streets. Soon the ‘Oss would start his journey. Laurel was no closer to figuring out how to find the clue than she had been the night they talked about it in Emily’s parlor. She just hoped with all her heart she would recognize the clue when it was in front of her.

Sarie’s friend emerged through her back gate just as they parked in the tiny spot behind her cottage. Aisling greeted her Aunt Jane and introduced Laurel. The woman led them down a narrow back alley to emerge onto the main thoroughfare. The voice of the crowd swelled to a new level as the ‘Obby ‘Oss began to make his way through the narrow street. The girls craned their necks trying to catch their first glimpse of the ‘Obby ‘Oss in his bizarre costume.

The crowd hemmed them in. Sarie held tight to Laurel’s hand as the crowd vibrated with excitement as the ‘Obby ‘Oss drew near. She lifted herself up on her tiptoes as high as she could in order to catch a glimpse of the alien-looking creature with its large hoop depicting the head of a horse, and a scraggy tail hanging from the rear of it.

The traditional song rang high and loud as thousands of voices joined in celebration:

“Unite and Unite. Let us all unite. For summer is a cummin today, and wither we are going, we will all unite, in the merry morning of May.”

Periodically the ‘Obby ‘Oss lunged into the crowd and captured a young woman, prompting good-natured jesting and howls of laughter. At intervals the ‘Obby ‘Oss would falter, stagger and fall to the street where he lay motionless for a moment, when this happened the joyous song changed to a sad dirge. As soon as the ‘Obby ‘Oss rose and danced again, the song spun back to its joyous celebration. Laurel didn’t know where to look first; this was all so different than anything she ever experienced. Even Stampede in Calgary wasn’t this crazy. The song filled the air and rose from the stones of the street under her feet. It vibrated in her bones and eardrums.

There was a sudden break in the crowd; the ‘Obby ‘Oss was right in front of them. She watched entranced, as the ‘Oss made an exaggerated grab for Sarie, who waved him off, laughing. The strange hooped face of the creature paused, his painted eyes looked straight at her and the sound of the celebrations faded. It seemed only Laurel and the strange beast existed in a world somehow one step sideways from the world she knew. She couldn’t even feel Sarie’s hand on hers, and the words of the song, though faint still echoed in her ears.

The ‘Obby ‘Oss regarded her for a long minute before a voice echoed in her head. It was both soft and deep, young and old, gentle and intimidating, all at once and yet none of them at all. A part of her was afraid, but another part was braver than she would ever have imagined and allowed her to listen to the message.

 “Greetings, child who searches for answers. On this May Day, the ‘Obby ‘Oss grants you a boon. Neither husband nor child will I give you, but the answer to part of the mystery you seek to achieve your heart’s desire.”

Laurel started as the voice took on a deeper tone; she could hear the ringing of great brass bells underlying it as if they rung from the depths of the ocean.

“Find the great lizard as it emerges from the foam and follow its path to the secret caverns of the crystal guardians. You must remember…to gain entrance, you and your companions must be found worthy, and so I tell you that it takes not the courage of a man, but the selfless sorrow of a woman for the Selkie guardian to admit you.”

“Thank you,” Laurel whispered.

Suddenly, the world came back into focus. Although Laurel felt like a lot of time had passed, it seemed only a tiny second elapsed to all those around her. Sarie was still waving the ‘Obby ‘Oss away and giggling like a girl.

“Go on with you, I’m too old, and she’s too young.”

The ‘Obby ‘Oss shook his hooped head at Sarie and bowed before he continued on his way. The May Song rose high and strong over the throng and slowed to the awful dirge as the ‘Oss stumbled and fell once more.

“Why does he do that?”

Sarie smiled. “Don’t let it bother you, girl. It symbolizes the death of winter and the birth of the spring. If winter doesn’t come, the summer never ends, and there can be no spring. It also mirrors mankind’s cycle of life: we are born, we die, but we live on in our children and our children’s children.”

 Laurel doubted if her mom was comforted by the thought of her daughter going on without her.

“Come on you lot, let’s go find some market stalls and some goodies to stuff your gobs with,” Sarie invited.

They shouted their agreement. The ‘Obby ‘Oss leaped to his feet again and cavorted down the street out of sight, though his song continued to echo in the air.

As the group made their way to the market stalls, Coll dropped back. “What happened back there? You looked all mazed for a minute, like you could see something the rest of us couldn’t.”

“The ‘Obby ‘Oss spoke to me,” she said.

“It never,” Coll exclaimed. “It’s not supposed to speak to anyone.”

“I don’t think it was the man inside the costume who talked to me. It sounded deep, like it was inside my head, but faraway at the same time. It was spooky.”

“Bloody Hell,” Coll exclaimed loudly.

“You mind your tongue, young man!” Sarie said over her shoulder. “You’ll have your Gramma down my throat for allowing you to behave like a ruffian.”  Jane and Emily laughed at her words.

“Sorry, Sarie,” Coll said, and then spoke in a quieter voice. “What did it say? Why couldn’t the rest of us hear it?”

“I don’t know why you couldn’t. I wish you were all there with me. It was creepy,”

“What do you mean there with you; you didn’t go anywhere. I was still hanging on to you and so was Sarie.” Coll looked confused.

“It was weird,” she paused, trying to find a way to describe it, “as if I took a step sideways or something. Like I was apart from everything somehow. All the noise faded, I couldn’t feel you or Sarie. All I could see was the painted face of the ‘Obby ‘Oss and hear that voice. But I could still hear the May Song faintly, all I could make out was unite, unite. It was freaking weird.”

“What did it say?” Coll asked impatiently. “Who would have guessed the ’Obby ‘Oss would talk to you!”

“Weird stuff, all in riddles. You know those stories your Gramma and Sarie tell at night in front of the fire where the faeries or piskies or whatever give the person the information they need, but they never tell it right out. The people in the story have to figure it out for themselves if they want to finish their quest or get out of the faery hill, or whatever.”

Coll danced a jig of delight on the cobbled street. “This is great, isn’t it just? We get to go questing like King Arthur’s knights. Gort’s going to be beside himself.”

“You don’t think I’m crazy, or making it up?”

“Naw, I believe you. We knew you were going to get a message here. You even had that faery struck look on your face for a moment when the ‘Oss stopped in front of you. You know, the one Sarie always makes as she describes how the person in the story would look.” Coll stopped talking long enough to make sure Sarie and the others weren’t too far ahead. “What did the bloody thing say,” he asked plaintively.

Laurel giggled at his tone. “Something about lizard tails and paths.” She trailed off and her eyes unfocused for a second. “In order to find the answer to my heart’s desire, I have to find the great lizard as it emerges from the foam and follow its path to the secret caverns of the crystal guardians.” She shook her head. “I don’t have any idea what it means.”

“Anything else?” Coll vibrated with excitement.

“There was something about gaining entrance to the secret caverns. Me and my companions have to be acceptable, I think he said ‘worthy,’ so the Selkie guardian will admit us. What the heck is a Selkie?” she asked crossly. “How am I supposed to figure this out when I don’t even know what the stupid things are?”

“That’s why you have companions. A Selkie is some magic kind of seal man.” Coll grinned. “Do you remember anything else?”

Laurel pushed aside her resentment and frustration at the riddles to try to remember the last piece of the riddle.

“He said it takes not the courage of a man, but the selfless sorrow of a woman to gain entrance.” She kicked at piece of litter. “I haven’t the slightest idea what that means either.”

Coll grabbed her hand and pulled her through the crowd. They could just see the top of Sarie’s head in front of them.

“Hurry up, we don’t want to get lost,” Coll said over his shoulder and then in a louder voice, “Sarie, Gramma, wait for us!”

Panting slightly, they caught up with their group just at the edge of the market stalls. Aisling and Gort looked at them questioningly; Coll winked at them.

“Just wait ‘til you hear the story we have to tell you later when we’re by ownselves.” Coll grinned at Gort. “You’re going to either love this, or think we’re bleedin’ kitey.”

“As long as it doesn’t involve anything illegal.” Gort muttered. 

Go Gently Book 3 in The Conrwall Adventures by Nancy M Bell

Click on the cover for buy links.

As promised here is the third book in The Cornwall Adventures. Laurel is worried when Gramma Bella disappears and heads to Cornwall to figure out what the heck is going on. She teams up with Coll, Gort and Aisling again. Gramma Bella is as impetuous as ever, much to Sairie and Laurel's chagrin. There's lots of Cornish magic and myth running through this story too. For those of you who wonder what happens afterward, I have good news. WIld Horse Rescue which is Book One in the Wild Rose Adventures finds Laurel back in Alberta with Coll visiting for the summer. Some readers have wondered which young man Laurel prefers: Coll or Chance. You might just find out in Wild Horse Rescue. Of course, young ladies sometimes change their minds.... Wild Horse Rescue releases in September 2018.

But back to Go Gently. Here is an excerpt to tempt and tease you....

Laurel Rowan paced the weathered front porch scanning the range road for the rooster trails of dust Chance’s truck would throw up. She heaved a sigh and leaned on the thick log railing letting the wind blow through her hair. Impatiently, she straightened up and whirled around. Snatching her large bag off the bench by the wall she rummaged for her cell phone. Chance was never late, why would he pick today of all days to not show up on time.
Her pony tail swished behind her as she stalked over to the post at the top of the stairs and leaned a hip against it. She glanced at the cell phone screen before starting the call to check how many bars were showing.
“I’m just turning in the lane,” Chance answered before the phone barely had a chance to ring.
The sun flashed off the windshield as the blue pickup came around the last bend at the top of the small coulee. Dust settled as he stopped in the yard. Laurel tossed her phone back in the bag and looped it over her shoulder before she jumped down the three shallow steps. Waving, she ran lightly across the grass toward him. Chance stepped out of the cab and removed his hat, slapping it on his thigh. The November sun slanted across the prairie, highlighting his strong features and intensifying the blue of his eyes.
“Where’s Carlene? I thought she was coming with us.” Laurel glanced at the empty cab.
“She changed her mind.” Chance shuffled his feet and dropped his gaze.
“What do you mean…changed her mind?” She pressed him for more information.
“Dang it, Laurel. I told her I didn’t want her to come.”
“What? Why would you do that?”
He mumbled something she didn’t catch, slapped his Stetson back on his head and climbed into the truck.
Laurel yanked open the passenger door, threw the bag onto the seat and swung up into the high cab. She fastened her seat belt and turned toward the boy behind the wheel. He’d stuck sunglasses on his face and she couldn’t read his expression.
“C’mon, spill. What’s up with you?”
“Ain’t nothin’, let it lie, will you.” Chance started the truck and slid it into gear.
“It is so something. You think I can’t tell when something’s bothering you? You and Carlene have a fight?” Laurel poked him in the arm with her finger.
“Leave off, I’m trying to drive.”
“You tell me right now or I’m getting out right here.” She made a show of reaching for the buckle of the seatbelt. Strong fingers closed over her hand, stopping her motions. Startled, Laurel looked down at the tanned hand that covered hers before meeting his gaze. The truck rolled to a stop as Chance engaged the clutch. She swallowed hard, discomforted by the intensity in his face.
“Don’t be an idiot.” A dark flush coloured his cheeks under the day old stubble. “Ever since you got back from England last year, you’ve been different somehow. I never know what you’re thinking any more…” His voice trailed off and he released her hand. Dipping his head so the brim of the Stetson threw his face into shadow, Chance released the clutch and allowed the pickup to gather speed.
“Oh, okay, I guess.” Laurel rolled the window down, using it as an excuse to look away from the boy she’d known all her life who was suddenly a stranger. “I thought Carlene wanted to come and meet Gramma Bella. I just know I’m going to find her today.”
“If we find her, there’ll be plenty of time for Carly to visit her with you. What does your dad think of all this, anyway?”
She hesitated before answering. “Dad doesn’t exactly know where I’m going today. He thinks we’re just going into Lethbridge for the day.”
“You think that’s wise, Laurie? Your dad’ll be madder than a wet hen when he finds out.”
“Don’t call me Laurie,” she protested. “You know I hate that name.”
“Okay, Laurel, what are you going to tell him when he finds out? And he will,” Chance continued when she opened her mouth to protest, “Mister Rowan is not a stupid man and you, missy, couldn’t keep a secret if you tried.”
“I don’t know, but Mom is on my side…and I can so keep a secret, so there.” She resisted the urge to stick her tongue out at him.
He snorted in disbelief. “Can not.”
“You still didn’t tell me why you came by yourself.”
“Leave it alone, Laurel.” Chance slowed at the end of the lane and glanced both ways before pulling out onto the paved highway.
“C ‘mon, spill it.” She poked him in the ribs hard enough to make him wince.
Flashing her an angry glance, he sighed and shook his head. “Fine. I told her not to come so I could spend some time with you. Alone.” His jaw clenched.
“What?” Laurel struggled to process his words and the meaning behind them.
“We used to hang out together, now it’s like you don’t have the time of day for me anymore.”
“That’s just plain stupid and you know it.” Heat rose in her face. “We spend tons of time together, we still belong to all the same clubs. I just don’t get what you’re so fired up about.”
“You used to be over at our place all the time. Seemed like I couldn’t turn around without trippin’ over you. Now I never see you unless you’re with Carly.”
“I guess maybe I just grew up a bit. You always acted like you were mad at me for trailing behind you. One of your friends called me your buckle bunny last spring. I’m nobody’s buckle bunny.”
“Yeah, I straightened Ty out about that. You never let a bit of name calling bother you before, though.”
Chance quit talking and concentrated on the road, but Laurel was pretty sure he still had something stuck in his craw.
“All you ever talk about to Carly about is that guy in Cornwall.
“He’s my friend!” she defended herself.
“Friends with benefits?”
“Are you freaking kidding me? That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. Get your mind out of the gutter, Chance Cosgrove.”
“The way you carry on when you get an email from him, you can’t blame a guy for thinking it’s more than just friends.”
“Shut up, Chance. Just shut up.”
Laurel scrunched down in the seat as far as the seatbelt would let her and refused to look across the cab at the driver. The vehicle slowed as they went through Lundbreck.
“Do you want to stop for anything? This is the last place before we head north into the mountains.”
Laurel shook her head, still refusing to look at him. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the rise and fall of his shoulders as he shrugged. Once out of Lundbreck he picked up speed again. At the junction of Highway 3 and 22 Chance turned north on 22. The road wound its way through the towering mountains, the poplar trees were bare of the brilliant gold leaves, leaving only stark branches showing against the blue green of the conifers. Usually, Laurel loved this drive but her annoyance with Chance soured the experience. It was the last time this year she’d be able to go this way before the National Parks closed the highway at Highwood House.
Chance seemed as disinclined to talk as she was. She plugged her mp3 player into the dock and set it to play to break the awkward silence. No luck with getting a radio or cell phone signal this deep in the wilderness.


* * *


Two and a half hours later Chance pulled the pickup into the parking lot by the Shell in Bragg Creek. “Where do we go from here?”
Laurel pulled the crumpled envelope out of her pocket and smoothed it out. The return address was a bit smudged, but it was still legible. “It’s on White Avenue, number one-thirty-two.”
“Do you know where that is? What street are we on now?” Chance craned his neck to read the street sign. “We’re at Balsam Avenue right now.”
“No idea, I should have brought a map. There’s the post office, let’s ask there.” Laurel opened the door and slid down out of the truck. “Are you coming?” She turned to look at Chance.
“Nah, I’ll just wait here.” He switched off the truck.
“Suit yourself.” Laurel shrugged and turned her collar up against the wind whipping through the tiny parking lot. She ignored the surge of irritation. Chance had a burr under his saddle, that was for sure. What was so difficult about coming with her to the post office? And what was with his acting jealous of Coll. Reaching her destination, she pulled open the door and banished all thoughts of Coll and Chance. Today was about finding Gramma Bella.
There was no one waiting so Laurel smiled at the lady who was sorting mail behind the counter.
“How can I help you?” The woman set the bundle of letters down and came to the counter.
“I need to know where White Avenue is and how to get there from here.”
“Where are you parked?”
“Over by the Shell station.”
“Go out onto Balsam and turn right, at the stop sign turn right again. Then take the first right, that’s White Avenue. What address are you looking for?”
“One-thirty-two. I think my gramma lives there.”
“What’s your grandmother’s name?” The woman peered at Laurel intently.
“Bella.” She shuffled her feet, unnerved by the directness of the post mistress’ stare.
“Humph, Bella never mentioned having a granddaughter. Fact is, the woman never talks about her family, come to think of it.”
“So, she does still live here?” A thrill of excitement spiraled through her as she waited for the response.
The woman nodded. “Her place is just outside of town. Follow White Avenue out past the old trading post and along the river. Just as you go up the hill, there’s a point of ground that sticks out, the driveway is on your right before the crest of the hill. Be careful turning in, people drive way too fast on that stretch of road.”
“Thanks,” Laurel called. She almost raced out the door, the ratty envelope clutched in her hand.
“I got directions,” she announced when she re-joined Chance.
“Where do we go from here?’ He turned on the ignition and slid the shifter into first gear, the clutch still depressed.
“Go out onto Balsam, which is right there, and then turn right at the stop sign.” She pointed at the busy corner.
The truck reversed and after Chance made the right turn, he glanced at Laurel. “Which way now?”
She consulted the notes she scrawled on the back of the envelope. “Take the first right, it should be White Avenue.”
They stopped at the four way stop and waited their turn. “Yeah, the sign says White Avenue. So far so good.” Chance made the turn after the large truck coming down highway 22 went through. “Look for street numbers, will you, Laurel.” The narrow road was hemmed in with tall spruce and fir and still looked a bit the worse for wear from the huge flood of June 2013. A number of damaged houses were up for sale.
They passed the Barbeque Steak House. “We’re at fifty. There was a sign on that restaurant we just passed.”
“Keep looking, I hope we’re going in the right direction,” Chance sounded doubtful.
“There was no other way to go, this road started at that four way stop.” Laurel continued to watch for street signs. Another restaurant was on the right. “Bavarian Inn, seventy-five White Avenue. The post office lady said to watch out for an old trading post, it must be further along.”
“Look, there’s the river.” Chance pointed ahead where the thick growth of trees thinned out.”
“There’s the trading post.” Laurel bounced with excitement as the pickup rounded a wide curve in the road. The land rose sharply upward on the left, the road ran beside the river on the right.
“This is where they filmed a lot of that old TV show, North of 60,” Chance remarked.
“I didn’t know that,” Laurel said. “Okay, when we get to that bit of hill up ahead, the driveway should be on the right part way up. Lady said we can’t miss it.”
Half way up the hill a gate stood open at the end of a short drive. Chance pulled in and let the engine idle. “Now what? Are you sure this is the place?”
“The address is right,” Laurel said.
Chance killed the engine and turned to look at her. “Do you want me to come with you or would you rather do this on your own?”
Laurel swallowed; her mouth suddenly dry. “What if she doesn’t remember me? Or doesn’t want to talk to me? Maybe we should just go home.”
“I didn’t drive almost three hours for you to turn tail and run, Laurel.” Chance glared at her. “C’mon, I’ll go with you”
Feeling like a hundred elephants were sitting on her chest, she got out of the truck and came around the front to join him.
“Ready?” he asked.
“Not really, but let’s do it anyway.” Laurel found it hard to get the words past the lump in her throat.
Three broad shallow steps led up to a small porch. Laurel raised her hand to knock, but hesitated. A hundred doubts racing through her thoughts. She half turned to run back to the truck, but then whirled back and knocked loudly on the red painted door.
Chance moved nearer until his shoulder touched hers. The contact was reassuring and helped calm her anxiety and steady the racing of her heart. They waited a moment or two, but there was no response. Laurel knocked again and stepped back a pace. After a few minutes of silence, she looked up at Chance and shrugged.
“She must be out.” Laurel’s voice wavered a bit.
“Maybe,” Chance agreed.

And a tiny bit more from a bit later in the story:

“What do you think, Chance? She’s kind of an odd duck. I wonder if I should call Sarie, or Coll. They should know if Gramma Bella is back in Penzance.” Laurel tucked a foot underneath her and half-turned toward Chance.
“Sure, go ahead and call Coll, if that’s what you want.” His lip curled and a frown darkened his face. “Why not call the girl you met over there, Ashleen, or something?”
“I could, I guess. I might call her anyway. What’s wrong with me calling Coll?”
“Nothing, I guess,” he muttered. “If your gramma really is in Cornwall, what are you gonna do?”
“I don’t know, this is getting more complicated by the minute. I was counting on her being home when we got there. I can’t tell Dad, he’ll go postal when he finds out I’ve even been looking for Gramma.”
“Can you talk to your mom, then? Will she understand better?” Chance took his eyes off the road long enough to glance over at her.
“Yeah, I’m gonna tell Mom as soon as I get home. She’ll know what to do.”
“You wanna stop and grab a sub or something in town before we head out?”
Laurel nodded and Chance pulled into the small plaza by the gas station. After a quick meal, they headed toward Pincher Creek. Chance seemed disinclined to talk, so Laurel was left alone with her thoughts.
It was dark by the time Chance dropped her off. She waved good-bye before taking the steps in one leap. The lights were on in the kitchen and her dad’s office. Laurel pussy-footed down the hall past the open door of the office. In the kitchen, Mom was chopping vegetables at the counter.
“Hey, Mom.” She grabbed a can of pop from the fridge and sat down at the table. “Can I help with anything?”
“Nope, I have everything under control. Did you find what you were looking for in Lethbridge? You were gone longer than usual. You and Carly lose track of time?” Anna Rowan pushed a lock of hair off her forehead with the back of her hand.
“No, actually, we didn’t go to Lethbridge.”
“Was there something in Medicine Hat you wanted?”
Laurel shook her head. “We didn’t go to the Hat, either. It was really weird, though. Carly didn’t come, it was just Chance and me.”
‘Is Carly sick or something?” Mom caught her gaze across the kitchen island.
“No, Chance asked her not to come. He said he wanted it to be just him and me. And he got all prickly every time I mentioned Coll’s name. What’s up with that?”
Anna laid the paring knife down and came to sit at the table beside Laurel. “Why do you think he’d do that?”
“Beats me, we’ve been friends forever, and the three of us always do things together.”
“I think Chance is interested in you, sweetie. Has he asked you to go out with him?”
“No! I mean, I like him and all, but not that way. It’d be like kissing my brother or something.” Laurel made a face and grimaced.
“Just keep it in mind, that maybe the boy sees you as more than a friend now that you’ve all grown up a bit.”
Laurel nodded and snagged a banana from the bowl on the table.
“So, if you didn’t go to Lethbridge or the Hat, where did the pair of you go?”
“Chance drove me up to Bragg Creek.” She watched her mom’s face carefully for her reaction.
“What did you find in Bragg Creek? What made you want to go there?” Anna frowned and got up to move back to the counter, avoiding looking directly as her daughter.
“I went looking for Gramma Bella, I know she’s not dead,” she blurted out.
“Your father and I never told you she was dead, where did ever get that idea?”
“Mom, look at me. You both let me believe she was dead, not just moved away. When I was visiting Sarie, I found a bunch of letters from Gramma Bella to her. The return address on the latest one was Bragg Creek.”
“I wish you’d mentioned this before and not gone haring off to find her on your own.”
“I didn’t think Dad would let me go if he knew where I was going. Mom, what did they fight about that upset things so badly that she moved out and nobody ever mentioned her again?”
“I’m afraid that’s something you need to ask your father about. Now tell me, did you get a chance to speak to Bella?”
“She wasn’t home. The neighbor lady said she went off to Cornwall in a big hurry about two weeks ago.”
“Cornwall? You’re sure the woman said she went to Cornwall, not London?”
Laurel nodded. “Ally, the next door neighbor, said Gramma Bella got a call from Sarie that someone was in trouble, and then she left in a big hurry.”
“Hmmm, I wonder…Bella vowed she’d never set foot back in Penzance. She believed the ruckus and embarrassment she endured when she left would never be forgotten. She never wanted to run into Daniel Treliving ever again.”
“Daniel Treliving? That’s Gort’s uncle. I don’t blame her, he was a real jack ass.”
“I didn’t realize you knew him, what was he like? Is he really as nasty as Bella made out/” Anna stopped stirring a pot on the stove and leaned a hip on the counter.
“I never really met him, but I did see him sometimes. He was Gort’s guardian, but he treated him like crap. Used him for a punching bag, so Gort would hideout at Sarie’s or Emily’s. But Gramma Bella doesn’t have to worry about seeing him, he’s dead now.”
“Are you sure? When did you find this out?”
“Coll emailed me about it, and so did Ash, and Gort too when he was feeling better. He’s living with Emily and Coll now.”
“That’s very interesting. I wonder who is in such trouble that Bella would throw caution to the wind and take off for England.
“Ally said it was Vear Du who was in trouble.”
Anna’s face went white and gripped the counter hard enough to turn her knuckles white. “Are you sure?” Her voice was barely above a whisper.
“As sure as I can be.” Laurel swallowed hard. “I know who he is, Mom. I know Vear Du is my grandfather. Is that what Dad and Gramma fought about? Is that why she moved away and I never saw her again.”
Anna nodded and wiped a tear from her cheek. “Since you’ve discovered that much, I’ll answer your questions as best as I can. But you should still talk with your dad about this. Your father was devastated when he found out the truth. All his life he believed D’Arcy was his dad, and in a way he was, in all the most important ways. It came as a real shock when he learned he was the son of some weird magical being.”
“Was he mad at Gramma for not telling him sooner? When did he figure it out?” Laurel tried to put herself in his place and couldn’t.
“He found out when you were pretty young, I thought he was going to bring the house down he was so angry.”
“Is that when you found out?”
Anna shook her head. “Bella told me before I married your father. She thought it wasn’t fair to let me marry him without know exactly what I was getting into. It took your dad a while to get over that too. Me knowing, and not telling him.”
“Mom, Aisling invited me to spend Christmas with her family, are you okay with that? I’ve been saving my money to pay for the plane fare since I got home last time. I didn’t know Ash was going to ask me to come for Christmas, though. Can I go? I really want to find Gramma Bella, too. If Vear Du is in trouble maybe Ash and I can help him somehow.”
“Let me talk to your father about all this and I’ll let you know what he says. Leave it with me for a bit, okay.”


That's all for now, but I will leave you with some lovely pictures of Cornwall with credit to Frances Watts who takes marvelous photos. Next month I'm planning to feature The Selkie's Song where you meet a young Bella and Sairie and of course the odious Daniel and the heroic and oh so handsome Vear Du, the Selkie.

This is Nanjizal Bay and the slit in the rock known as The Song of the Sea which plays a part in the story.

The following photos are taken by Frances Watts and are near and around Land's End, St. Buryan, Carn les Boels and the Cornish Coastal Path.

Interviews...Friend or Foe? by Nancy M Bell

Hello again, thanks for stopping by. As I write this post I'm getting ready to do a Blog Talk Radio interview to promote Go Gently, the third book in the Cornwall Adventures. For no good reason, I always get nervous before an interview. It doesn't matter if it's face to face, over the phone or the internet. There's no good reason for it, I suppose. Left over angst from my 'fat kid' childhood maybe. I'm always thinking in the back of my mind about what people will think of what I'm wearing, or if they actually like the book, or are just being kind. Sometimes you wonder if the interviewer even read the book. But, then again, that's just my own inner critic rearing its head.
Even though outwardly it appears I have no trouble speaking to a crowd or facilitating an event, inside I'm triple thinking about what I should or shouldn't say or do. Silly, I know. It's like there is another person inside who takes over and just speaks naturally and comes up with concise and well thought out answers to questions. I used to teach riding lessons for a living, over 70 students a week. I always got a bit a stage fright, even though I loved what I was doing. The behaviors we learn in childhood never really leave us.

I recently released the third book in the Cornwall Adventures series. Go Gently is available from the publisher, Books We Love and major distributors everywhere. While I'm extremely proud of the books, it's almost like they are a separate entity from me and their success is somehow their own and not mine. Weird. It's okay to crow about the books, but I would never crow about me, tiny voices whisper my grandmother's words - "Don't be bragging, it's unbecoming of a young lady." "Quit thinking you're so smart or your head will get so big it won't fit through the door" Or my mother - "I can never find nice things for Nancy, she's just so big for her age. I can always finds such cute things for Wendy (my younger sister) She's so tiny and blonde."

I realize none of that actually defines me or indeed really has anything to do with me. It's their view of the world, not mine. But in times of stress, up they pop.

The funny thing is, I really do enjoy the interview once I arrive or it begins. I love talking about writing, the process, and the craft. The magic of putting words on paper that evoke a reaction and emotions from others. It is magic and I love it. When the interview is over, I'm always riding a bit of a high and wonder what the heck I was so nervous about beforehand. Giving interviews or readings is a great way to connect with people. A reader will often pick up a book and buy it if they feel a connection with the author. Reaching out to them through interviews is a great tool. With the internet today, you can instantly connect with readers on a worldwide scale. It boggles the imagination of a child of the 1950s, that's for sure.

Summer Solstice Sunset 2012

I know, I know, picture has nothing to do with content of my post, but I love the colours. It's taken from my back yard over the rolling prairie. Home of my heart.

Okay, the interview is over and it was fun. Now, if I could just remember NOT to say Ummm so many times. LOL

If you want to listen to the interview (and count the Umms LOL) click here

For more on the latest Cornwall Adventures book, Go Gently, please visit my author page at Books We Love. It is also available in ebook and print online and at bookstores everywhere. Thanks for visiting. See you next month on June 18th. Until then be safe and be happy.