Updating All Of My Books
BEATRICE: Book I of the Alban Saga
is done!
I’ve been writing books since 2013. Since then, I've learned a great deal about writing and storytelling! That’s why I’m going back and reworking all of my books. The first one, BEATRICE, is finished and can be ordered on any Amazon site across the world. It is a fantasy-mystery-thriller that takes place in present-day Scotland and incorporates a lot of actual Scottish history as well as many real sites and locations around Scotland.
If you decide you want a copy, it’s available now in the U. S. If you live outside the U.S., I recommend waiting until the beginning of December to ensure you receive the latest version.
I’ll let you know on my blog when I finish reworking my other books and they’re available. So, stay tuned!
Below, I’ve included the first chapter of
Beatrice!
Chapter 1
1 June 2006
Ewan’s family name was Bauman, and their mansion near Edinburgh was completed in its current state around 1719 with the first buildings showing up on the land as early as 1430. It was originally owned and built by a wealthy landowner named Findlay but passed through the hands of at least six other families before the Bauman’s purchased it in the mid eighteen-hundreds.
The estate stood on five thousand acres of emerald green land, and in his mind, Ewan could still see it as it had been when he was growing up. He remembered the huge oak trees with immense branches spreading out around their home as well as the beautiful grounds and gardens, and he could easily recall the feel of the mansion’s Gothic architecture. It had at least eight tall chimneys etched along its roofline, with windows and gables that were laced with strangely beautiful ornamental designs and long vines of ivy that reached up from the ground, clinging magically to the outer walls. At the back of the manor, climbing up into the clouds, was a huge battlement tower. As a young boy, Ewan would go there and view the countryside and pretend to defend his family’s honor, fighting off the Vikings or whomever he imagined was attacking his home.
Inside, on the ground level, there were two dining areas. One, which his family had used most often, was small and cozy and located near the kitchen. Another was much larger and only utilized on special occasions. There was also a sitting room, a library, and a formal reception room.
Upstairs were various smaller rooms, some of which he had never entered. Several were simply for storage, but others were guest bedrooms, and, of course, there was Fiona’s room. She was his older sister by three years and much taller than he when he was younger. Many people said that Fiona was an exact replica of their mum, but he had always seen them as being very different. His mum was ordered, and you really couldn’t say that she had much of an artistic side. Fiona on the other hand had a very creative mind and the ability to tell a great story. She was wickedly intelligent, and as siblings they fought now and again, but they had also enjoyed many happy times together.
His mum’s room was also upstairs. Her name was Elizabeth, and Ewan had countless memories of sitting on her bed having long talks. She was a solid and loving person and had a look about her that was very striking. Her hair was auburn and extremely thick, and she was lean and graceful with one of those faces that never seemed to age. As she got older, her quick mind and bright smile remained, and she always took the time to listen to both of her children. With Ewan, it was usually something about history; with Fiona, she would patiently listen and comment on her most recent story. Their mum was the rock that held their family together, and they were very proud of her.
Mary McClellan also had her room upstairs. She was the family’s live-in housekeeper and, though not a blood relative, was considered by all of them to be a member of the family. She had never married or had children of her own and had been with them ever since Ewan’s parents had first occupied the mansion. Mary was incredibly good at everything she did, and she was also very beautiful, causing Ewan to have a perpetual crush on her. She had long black hair, slightly darker skin than most people in Scotland, and her eyes were almost magical. He could remember kidding her that they changed color depending on her mood or what she wore. Mostly, though, he remembered them sparkle when she smiled and looked at him.
As a young boy, Ewan loved every part of their old mansion, but there were three places in particular where he had spent most of his time. One, of course, was his room, but even more than there, he enjoyed a storage room located on the way up to the battlement tower. It had many old relics and an antiquated stairway. Whenever he was there, it was the place where he could sense his ancestors the most and would sometimes sit and read their diaries or letters, look at the old furniture, and dream of how it must have been to live there more than two hundred years in the past. Then from there, he would often take the old staircase all the way up to the battlement tower itself. It was the highest part of their mansion—a spot where he could look out across the world, and, with his imagination firing, see it as it used to be and dream.
The second place that he enjoyed investigating was the cellar beneath the manor. Mary used part of it as a pantry because she could enter it easily from a staircase off the kitchen. The temperature was cool enough there to store some perishables. At one time in the distant past, it had also been used as the servant’s quarters. There was a second staircase to the cellar that spiraled down near a back entry. It was located there so that visitors arriving at the mansion wouldn’t be able to watch the servants go in and out, performing their chores and duties. This entry was also used by them so that they could leave their dirty shoes or clothing behind and then go down to their quarters. The cellar had very little natural light, but as with the room under the tower, it was now used basically for storage and had many antiques and historical artifacts scattered about the rooms. If Ewan felt like going into the dark to explore, the cellar provided many hours of entertainment. He enjoyed it, but it was also a bit haunting. Fiona thought he was crazy to go down there, but he loved it.
The entire estate was located outside of Edinburgh with the nearest neighbor at least five kilometers away. The lane entering the property undulated and wound its way across the land from the main highway to the doorstep of the mansion. Ewan, his mum, and his sister all felt incredibly lucky to live where they did. It was quiet and beautiful but also a remarkably fun place to share with friends. Both he and his sister had their mates over often, playing games inside and outside the mansion and eating the delicious food that Mary provided.
Ewan’s father, before his death, had come from a long line of Scottish nobles. His name was also Ewan. The family had “old money,” but his father had still worked and earned a substantial living in the real-estate business. He had passed away from a stroke when Ewan was only five, causing him to have very few real memories of him except for what his mum had shared over the years. One thing that Ewan was always very proud of, though, was that his father and mum had decided to give him the same name. She had told him later that he had looked so much like his father that, without a doubt, he had to be another “Ewan.”
After his father’s death, his mum could have stayed home, but she needed to stay busy. An MSP in their district named Fraser Bruce had recently passed away, and his family had encouraged her to run for his position in parliament. They felt that Fraser would have been very pleased. It took awhile to decide, but she finally agreed and was elected. She enjoyed the work, and it helped her get through a very difficult time.
Because Elizabeth was gone so much, sometimes days on end, Mary ended up being not only the housekeeper but also the nanny and a very close friend to both Ewan and Fiona. She was incredibly well organized and efficient. She took care of their large mansion, made sure that the two children were fed properly, and took them everywhere that they needed to go. She played with them, laughed, and loved them. They loved her as well, and Elizabeth couldn’t have managed without her.
When their mum was home, they had great fun together. She told Fiona and Ewan all about what she had been doing, and they in turn inundated her with stories from their daily lives at school, various escapades they’d had with their friends, and the many real and imagined adventures that the two of them conjured up around their estate. They also loved to play cards and just be together and chat. Mary even joined in on the fun when she could. Their father was no longer with them, but the three of them were a happy family.
Ewan was now thirty-six years old. Many years had passed since his childhood. However, he was still close to his mum and Fiona, though he didn’t see either of them nearly often enough. All of them had left the mansion after his eighteenth birthday and were living in different cities. The mansion now sat on their estate with only the groundskeeper and housekeeper living there. His mum had thought about selling it but just hadn’t been able to let it go. She was retired now and had a home in Edinburgh. Fiona was married and lived with her husband, Doug, and her son, Brendan, in the far northern part of Scotland in Inverness.
Ewan had left as well and lived in Oban, which was located west of Edinburgh on the coast. He had been working for a distillery there for about sixteen years and enjoyed his work. Doing something that was still a part of his Scottish heritage, something that had a history to it, was very important to him. He had never married but had a good life and was content.
He hadn’t thought much about the family mansion or what had happened there for some time, but he had recently traveled to Edinburgh for a Bauman family reunion. Being there had inevitably brought up old feelings and memories he thought were buried. Obviously, they were still with him.
Since the reunion, he could not stop thinking about his old home and that time in his life, and a very strong need began welling up inside. Something called to him, and he had to try to understand what had happened on his eighteenth birthday as well as during the year that preceded it. His memory of that period, for some inexplicable reason, had almost entirely been erased. Some moments he could remember very clearly, but others were hidden as if he was looking at them through a haze. He could see the shadows, but the substance was gone, and he felt a pervasive and pressing desire to dig it all up and look at it from the distance that time allowed. He needed to understand and couldn’t ignore it any longer. He simply had to know.
