A talented book cover designer, Hannah Spencer, designed a new cover for my 2021 historical fantasy and I LOVE it!

Margery Pendele has been cheated by life. Alice Yonge has been cheated by death.

Nestled in the heart of the English Cotswolds lies a village largely unchanged by the passing of time, surrounded by the ancient, haunted forest called Parsonage Wood. In the year 1642, the peaceful existence of Castle Combe’s inhabitants is about to be shattered. King Charles’ soldiers are coming to fight Cromwell and the Parliamentarians. War is coming to Castle Combe.

Alice Yonge, the only child of a poor weaver, lives in one of the cottages with her parents. She has a simple life, a good life. Until it abruptly comes to an end, and she is flown away to the Vale. At only sixteen years, she is torn away from all those she loves.

Margery Pendele is a servant who works in the kitchens of the manor house. When she learns from her mother that the Lord of the Manor is her father, she is determined to get all she feels she deserves. Full of bitterness, she scorns Johnny, the peasant boy who loves her, and lets him leave for war with only her words of rejection.

Alice is given a chance to return to Castle Combe, and Margery’s life becomes intertwined with hers. In her efforts to help Margery, Alice enlists the aid of Antonius, the ghost of the Roman soldier who guards the bridge, and the fearsome ninth-century Saxons and Danes who still fight each other in the Wood. Soon, Alice discovers that her own love has gone missing. This time her only weapons are the white stone given to her by the Seraph and the power of her love.

Inspired by historical author Carol Pratt Bradley’s visit to the English village of Castle Combe, this allegorical novel weaves together vivid historical details of the 17th century English Civil war with the ancient legends surrounding the village. It is also a tribute to the language of Shakespeare, Milton and other authors of the time, as Bradley explores the power of words to lift and change us.

A thoughtful novel about life and loss and the transforming power of hope.

In his book, “On Fairy-stories,” Tolkien said: “History often resembles myth, because they are both ultimately of the same stuff.” That helped answer my question about why, as an historical author, I’m currently writing a story that includes both historical and fantasy elements. Imaginative stories, he wrote, “…open a door on Other Time, and if we pass through, though only for a moment, we stand outside our own time, outside Time itself, maybe.”

That is also what historical novels do. To me, these two genres are not far apart, but interconnected. In my book, “Light of the Candle,” it seemed natural for me to write about Daniel’s dreams of the future, of the giant image that haunted a king’s own dreams, of him flying through the air to hover over Jerusalem, or seeing a vision of Sarai as he sat in Babylon. Bible stories are filled with the mystical. Author Madeleine L’Engle reflected: “In art we are able to walk on water; we speak to the angels who call us; we move, unfettered, among the stars.”

Fantasy stories are not only for children, both these authors say, and I believe them. When I was a little girl, I was certain that little fairies lived in the flower beds, that my stuffed animals were alive and could talk to me, that the world contained countless wondrous things that I could not see. I spent many imaginative hours believing in the reality of magic. L’Engle lamented: “We are…taught that fairy tales and myths are to be discarded as soon as we are old enough to understand “reality.” Story, she said, “helped me to learn to live.” Tolkien said: “The association of children and fairy-stories is an accident of our domestic history.” It is a false assumption that we must “grow up” and out of fantasy and myth. Adults, too, need stories of the fantastical.

Tolkien perfectly described fantasy: “The realm of fairy-story is wide and deep and high and filled with many things: all manner of beasts and birds are found there; shoreless seas and stars uncounted; beauty that is an enchantment, and an ever-present peril; both joy and sorrow as sharp as swords….[A fairy-story] contains many things besides elves and fays, and besides dwarfs, witches, trolls, giants, or dragons; it holds the seas, the sun, the moon, the sky; and the earth, and all things that are in it: tree and bird, water and stone, wine and bread, and ourselves, mortal men, when we are enchanted.”

So I will write of times gone by and of whimsy and revel in it.