My last name is Marzec because I married a man from Brooklyn whose parents came from Poland. So while he is definitely an American, he grew up in Greenpoint, Brooklyn—which is a lot like being in Poland. He went to a Catholic bilingual school (English and Polish). Marzec translates into the month of March in Polish. You can find it on a Polish calendar.
I’m not Polish. On my mother’s side I’m Czech and Slovak. Those countries are close enough to Poland so that some of the words are similar. At the time my mother’s parents left their home country it was part of the Austrian Empire. However, my grandfather said he lived near Prague. Thanks to Ancestry, I know the name of the town where my grandmother was baptized and that she came to the United States when she was three years old. She and my grandfather met in this country and had seven children. My mother was Daughter #2.
My paternal grandparents were Irish and German. This makes me a mere one quarter Irish, but as luck would have it, I resemble the Irish side of the family—except for my height which undoubtedly came from the German genes because my father’s relatives were all rather slight leprechauns.
With the exception of my German grandmother, all my predecessors were Catholic. Unfortunately, my Irish Catholic grandfather could not marry my German Protestant grandmother in the church. They were married in the vestibule. (That was a long time ago. Catholics can now marry non-Catholics in the church.) My Irish Catholic great aunts were responsible for making sure my father and his siblings received the sacraments.
Genetically, I’m a mongrel. My daughters are even more homogenized since they are half Polish.
Yet, somehow it is the Irish part of me that I feel most at home with—the Irish wit, songs, legends, and myths. That’s why I’ve written three books with Irish themes, Irons in the Fire, Prince of the Mist, and Kiss of Blarney.
Hubby asked me to marry him on the eve of St. Patrick’s Day. Daughter #3’s birthday comes close to St. Patrick’s Day.
Good reasons to celebrate! That’s why we always enjoy corned beef and soda bread at this time of year, but no kielbasi. :-)
It's almost St. Patrick's Day! Below is the beginning of KISS OF BLARNEY, my story about Ula, an Irish princess hidden in the Pine Barrens of New Jersey. Shay, the hero of the tale, is burdened by geise, a set of personal rules which must be obeyed. Otherwise misfortune or even death could result.
Chapter One
Shay could swear someone was watching his every move. A prickly sensation lingered along his shoulders, and he rubbed the back of his neck while standing at the bar in Paddy’s Pub in Green Creek, New Jersey--a half a world away from his birthplace in Ireland.
He now called Green Creek home, but he often felt as though his Irish heritage had followed him there. No doubt, the blame lay with his geise. His da had insisted that as a descendent of the Irish kings, Shay must be given geise--even though he happened to be living in the twenty-first century. All the legendary Irish kings had been given geise, a set of rules tailored for the individual, which must be obeyed.
If a man did not conform to the geise, it was said that misfortune or even death could result.
Most of the time, Shay considered his situation absurd. Being related to a bunch of illustrious, long gone--as well as bloodthirsty--Irish kings did not put bread on the table. Becoming a mason had been a far more lucrative career for him. Nevertheless, his father had ingrained the geise into his mind and Shay could not rid his thoughts of them. Since there was a blizzard outside, and he was in a pub, one commandment in particular came to mind.
Thou shalt not drink strong liquor when snow blankets the sod. Shay wiped the cold sweat from his brow as the echo of his father’s warning kept him on edge despite the fact that he opted to drink beer.
However, he decided his unease could also be due to the current situation at the pub. Tonight, stranded parade marchers jammed the largest Irish pub on the Jersey Shore. Green Creek’s famous St. Patrick’s Day Parade had been cancelled at the last minute due to the major snowstorm. As the white stuff continued to pile up, the marchers bided their time drinking whatever Paddy had to offer while his supply dwindled with each passing moment. The town’s electricity had gone off at one in the afternoon and everything had come to a standstill. Shay noted that several of the patrons were completely plastered, and he knew drink could bring out the worst in people.
...misfortune or even death could result.
Taking a small sip from his beer, he narrowed his eyes and glanced around at the tables now illuminated only by candles.
“What are you dreaming about, man?” Shay’s buddies, Trevor and Liam, slapped him on the back--none too lightly, but Shay’s muscles had been fused into steel by his years as a mason so it did not hurt.
“I’m dreaming of my one hundred twenty chimneys,” Shay lied. “Aye. I’d be out there now laying the footings if it wasn’t for this rotten weather.”
“You’ve a guaranteed fortune.” Trevor brightened. “It’s only fair you’ll be remembering your old friends with another round of beers--we who knew you when all’s you had was a shabby suitcase and a cockamamie story about being a descendent of kings.”
Shay glared at his friend and hardened his tone. “You’ll not be making fun of my father’s tale.”
From his stricken look, it appeared Trevor realized he had ruined his chances for a free beer. “It’s not everyday we have someone walking into this pub, getting drunk and telling us he’s related to royalty.”
“I was down on my luck that day and a wee bit homesick as well,” Shay admitted. “I’m thinking now you didn’t mean to get me drunk that day, but I hadn’t had a bite to eat.”
Liam shoved a bowl of pretzels right under Shay’s nose. “We were only helping out a newcomer to our fair town.”
Shay reached for the pretzels. His father had been an honest, hard-working man--and if he liked to tell fairytales he wasn’t much different from the rest of the Devlins. They all liked to think there was magic hidden beneath every blade of grass in Ireland. There were those in his clan who even claimed to be descendants of the Tuatha De Danaan. Funny thing was, most of the old Irish families believed the same nonsense.
Still, some nights here in New Jersey, so far from Ireland, when the moon was full and the air was soft with mist, even Shay longed for a bit of that old enchantment. However, there was no mist outside tonight--just snow--tons of it. The nerves bunched up in his shoulders.
“Too much time in the pub and we’ll all be seeing leprechauns.” Trevor gave a hearty laugh.
“Shay’s worked hard these past two years and a hard working man deserves to get drunk now and then. Especially, when he’s got his fortune made.” Liam grinned.
“You’re right.” Shay raised his glass toward his friends. “We’ll be forgetting the tough times today. Paddy, another round.”
Paddy, the owner of the pub, shoved a mug toward him. Shay glared at the green liquid inside. Squinting, he held his drink closer to the pale light coming from the battery lantern on the bar. “And what are you doing giving me this evil-colored potion?”
“That, me boy, is in honor of the day,” Paddy announced. “It’s green beer.”
Shay detected a stony look in Paddy’s eyes. However, with the feeble lantern light, the flickering candles and the two beers Shay had already consumed, his eyesight could be suffering from more than simple strain.
“I’ll be asking for a hearty pint of Guinness, if you want to be celebrating good St. Patrick.”
“In America, green is the color for everything reminding us of the old sod.” A note of annoyance came across in the pub owner’s words. To be sure, his reserves must be getting low.
“They’ll not be knocking back such a putrid looking beverage in Ireland today.”
“Then you can be going back there if you’re not liking the customs here.” Paddy’s jowls vibrated with an ominous tremor from his frayed nerves. The storm continued to rage while all the candles on the tables melted into small stubs that would soon burn out. Still, none of the patrons took the opportunity to leave.
“It tastes the same as any cheap lager,” Trevor licked his lips after downing a bit of the brew. “Close your eyes and you won’t be noticing any difference.”
“I’ve got some green bagels to stave off your hunger before you’ll be heading home.” Paddy’s meaning couldn’t be missed. “I’m having a sale on the bagels. Three for a dollar.”
“Must be getting stale,” Liam muttered low.
Shay shrugged his shoulders. His dog, Bran, would be wanting some company on this bitter evening and a hearty blaze in the fireplace would provide a great deal more warmth than the vile beer in Paddy’s Pub. At any rate, he’d be keeping himself out of harm’s way.
He turned, intending to bid his buddies goodnight when the door to the pub opened, letting in a blast of wind that blew out some of the candles and sent many of the others wavering. A cry of protest went up from some tartan-clad customers nearest the door when they were left in darkness.
Shay let out a laugh. “Maybe we have a banshee coming to haunt us for drinking such a foul brew.”
Clad in a long cloak, a petite figure moved toward the bar. The face of the stranger lay in shadow under a capacious hood, and at her side she carried a large, old-fashioned tapestry bag. Upon nearing the bar, her pale hand reached up and swept off the hood, unleashing a mass of rich red, curly hair that glinted in the candlelight. Dazzled by the sight, Shay blinked.
“I don’t think she’s a banshee,” Liam whispered with a note of awe in his voice.
KISS OF BLARNEY is the story of Ula, an Irish princess, raised in a hidden location in the Pine Barrens of New Jersey. When her only companion, a druidess, is kidnapped by the evil druid, Balor, the princess must leave her secret cottage to seek help. And who better to help her locate the druidess than the Irish Wolfhound who just happens to be owned by the handsome man who saves her virtue at a pub? Shay Devlin wants nothing to do with the beautiful Ula--especially not once he realizes she's out to steal his unruly dog, Bran--but there's no way he and his geise will allow him to turn her out into the snow, alone and unprotected. Too bad everything about the mysterious dog snatcher tempts him to break every rule of his sacred code. Though their love is forbidden--for prophecy says Ula will marry a man with black eyes and Shay's are blue--they battle the druid who wants not only Ula, but the kingdom she is destined to rule. In the scene below, Shay realizes he is cursed, but he thinks he can outwit fate.
Shay glanced around the garage. He did not see any snowshoes. Where had that woman put them? He checked a few places where she might have hidden them, but the snowshoes seemed to have vanished. Muttering a few curses, he rolled the snow thrower out of the garage.
A gusty wind bit at his skin but he hardly noticed. The audacity of that woman still had him reeling. Angry at his own body for reacting to her touch, he wanted to rid himself of the hormones she had stirred up. He intended to push the snow thrower and his body to the limits. He cursed himself for being so tenderhearted and bringing her home so she wouldn’t get into any more trouble.
Then he thought of her small waist, those delicate feet of hers, that fiery hair--the softness of her flesh when he had held her, the hint of violets that swirled about her, the tender valley between her breasts….
Bran whimpered and derailed Shay’s obsessive train of thought. That woman could send him to the psych ward. Glancing at his pet, he noted how miserable the animal appeared.
“You’re supposed to be a courageous dog. I’m wanting to see you laugh at the weather.”
Bran whined.
“I’ll not have a wimpy dog,” Shay complained. “Or one that lets crazy women steal them away.”
Bran hung his head in utter wretchedness.
“Serves you right for falling in love with her,” Shay chastised the dog. “Do you think it’s going to be fun hunting in this weather? And what is she hunting for? Have you asked her that?”
He should have asked her. No. He should have run in the other direction.
He should have listened to the geise. It made a lot of sense not to bring a woman into the house. Right now, Ula could be helping herself to….
He stopped to think a moment. She seemed inordinately interested in his appliances, but aside from
those work-saving devices he did not own anything worth stealing--except for his tools and his dog--and his truck. Judging from the fiasco in the pub, she did not have a license. Odd.
Shay cranked the knob so that the chute would throw the snow to the right side of the driveway. Then he yanked on the cord to start the snow thrower. Nothing happened. Swearing, he gave it another pull, but the engine refused to turn over. It had gas in it. It had been working last week. It had a brand new spark plug in it. There should not be anything wrong with it.
In a fury, he pulled again on the cord—and again until his arm burned from the exertion.
“Dammit!” He cursed as he rolled the snow thrower back into the garage and got out a snow shovel. Still enraged, he pitched the shovel into the first snowdrift and the handle snapped in two.
Shay stared at it in disbelief. Bran let out a howl and the sound cut through Shay like a fine blade.
…misfortune and even death.
“I am cursed is it?” He asked his dog as he stumbled back against the wall of his house. “Doomed because I have broken one of my geise. Doomed because I won’t let her have my dog.”
Bran let out another howl and scratched at the door.
“You’d leave me here to my death?” he asked his pet. “After I’ve trained you, fed you, cared for you and paid so much money for the vet bills that I know he could not have purchased his Porsche without my business.”
Bran whined and scratched at the door once more.
Shay stared out at the solid white landscape and felt his heart sinking. Somehow, it did seem as if the geise was working against him. It did not make any sense, but there could be no other explanation. The damper should not have slammed shut. The snow thrower should be working. That snow shovel had a lifetime guarantee.
He brightened as an idea formed in his mind. Opening the door of the garage for Bran he decided that anything was worth a try under the circumstances. He did not need any more broken dampers, non-working snow throwers, or broken snow shovels. He would end the curse of this geise the way he had handled the other one last night--in a devious manner.
Being a glutton for punishment, I decided to put out a print edition of Kiss of Blarney. I am aware that very few people will buy the print version. Why should they when the digital edition is only $0.99? Nevertheless, it is nice to have a physical book to put on the table when I go to a booksigning event. So I struggled with Word to make the correct size page with mirror image pages. Then I uploaded the file to Createspace. I looked at the preview and realized I had forgotten page numbers. I had to redo the file with numbers and upload it again. It made my brain hurt.
While it is possible to proof the book online, I have found that buying a genuine paper copy is the best method. When the paper copy arrived, I found ERRORS. I hate that. The mistakes were small, but they still annoyed me.
So I went back and fixed the errors and uploaded the book AGAIN. The inexpensive paper version should be available shortly--though there are more expensive Crescent Moon Press editions still floating around. I set my own paper edition at $5.50. I won't make much money on it, but I don't mind. Selling books is not easy. Selling high priced books is impossible--unless you're already a celebrity.
Kiss of Blarney is a short read. The new print version is 85 pages long. Don't you want to read about an Irish princess hidden in the Pine Barrens of New Jersey?
My mother always told me the third time is the charm. I'm hoping she was right because for the third time KISS OF BLARNEY is available in a digital edition. I reissued it myself last night. :-) It was published first by New Concepts Publishing. When that publisher returned the rights to me, Crescent Moon Press published it. But now it's mine again and I am offering it to the world at the bargain price of $0.99.
I uploaded it to Smashwords, too, which will make it available for iBooks, Nook, Kobo, and several other ebook distributors. For Smashwords I had to compose a very short blurb: An Irish princess, raised in secrecy, and destined to rule the Enchanted Island must save her companion from an evil Druid. She enlists the aid of a dog, but the owner of the animal is not about to let her steal his dog--even if by doing so he puts his own life in peril.
The new long blurb is this: Prophecy says Ula, an Irish princess, is destined to rule the Enchanted Island with a black-eyed prince. For safety, she hides in the Pine Barrens of New Jersey with a druidess for a companion. Ula knows nothing of the modern world. She has no friends and never saw a man. When her druidess is kidnapped by the evil Balor, she leaves her hidden cottage to borrow a dog who can aid her in finding her companion.
Shay is a descendent of Irish kings given specific rules to follow since birth. If he breaks his sacred code misfortune or even death could result. He doesn’t think those principles make sense in the modern world. Then he meets Ula. She walks into a pub during a blizzard and causes a melee. He wants nothing to do with her, especially when he realizes she's out to steal his dog but if he turns her out into the snow, he’ll break his sacred code. Though Ula spouts nonsense, she tempts him to abandon every principle his father gave him.
Ula’s love for Shay is forbidden, for he has blue eyes, but the powerful emotions that draw her to him cannot be denied. Still, she is bound to rescue her druidess and for that she must take Shay’s dog, even if Shay breaks her heart and winds up hating her forever. Warning: This book does have one very sensual scene. A book video is available on YouTube, too. Have a look!
In eleven more days, on March 31st, 2015, the rights for my three Crescent Moon Press books will be returned to me. I intend to reissue the books on my own. (Big bargains coming your way!) I bought the covers for The Company You Keep and Kiss of Blarney, but plan to work on a different cover for Irons in the Fire, which is too dark. Book covers which are too dark don't get noticed--especially if they are one-inch high on Amazon.
I plan to reissue the books in the same manner I handled Prince of the Mist. First I'll upload them to Kindle, and then to Smashwords, so they'll also be available at Barnes & Noble, iBooks, Kobo, and basically the rest of the world.
I am debating whether it's worth it to get print copies. I did print for Prince of the Mist, and a few of them have sold--at a rock bottom price, of course, but it is a short book. The other books are longer and would cost more. Paper is not cheap.
It may take a while for me to get the books online again. I have to gear up for the release of Patriot's Pride in June and I am seeking a publisher for Outside Blessings, the YA story I just finished writing. Nevertheless, I will do my best to make the books available as soon as possible.
The other authors at Crescent Moon Press have been fun to work with. We ran blog tours. I read their books and they read mine. I wish them all success in their future endeavors, because they are all wonderful authors and really know how to tell stories.
Selling books is a tough business, but having authors for friends--even if I've only met them online--is great!
When Ula's druidess is kidnapped by the evil Balor, the Irish princess must leave her secret cottage to seek help. And who better to help her locate the druidess than the Irish Wolfhound who just happens to be owned by the handsome man who saves her virtue at a pub?
Shay Devlin wants nothing to do with the beautiful Ula--especially not once he realizes she's out to steal his unruly dog, Bran--but there's no way he and his geise will allow him to turn her out into the snow, alone and unprotected. Too bad everything about the mysterious dog snatcher tempts him to break every rule of his sacred code.
Though their love is forbidden--for prophecy says Ula will marry a man with black eyes and Shay's are blue--they battle the druid who wants not only Ula, but the kingdom she is destined to rule.
Celebrate St. Patrick's Day by downloading Kiss of Blarney.
