Vintage Friday: You Can Speak Old English

Pictures of English History Plate IX - The Wicked Queen Elfrida

By Joseph Martin Kronheim (1810–96)[1] [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

One of my favorite college linguistics classes included the study of Old English and Middle English. We all know that many influences went into creating the modern English language we speak in the United States, including Anglo-Saxon, Norman French, Latin, Scandinavian, Native American, etc. Words originating in Old English, though, are just too wonderful to lose. Some are still fairly common, and some seem near to falling off the cliff into nothingness. I beseech you to help me bring these words back into common use! Let’s make these our September WORDS OF THE DAY. Will you play?


1. banhus – body, comes from bone house NOUN
2. bearm – bosom or lap NOUN
3. bedight – decorate VERB
4. besmirch – smear so as to make dirty or stained VERB
5. betroth – become engaged, plan to marry VERB
6. broga – danger NOUN
7. cyse – cheese NOUN
8. ditty – a short simple song (I used this a couple of days ago on a Reddit post. At least one kid knew what I was talking about and responded with the song lyrics.) NOUN
9. dray – a low heavy horse cart without sides; used for haulage (Historical authors and western authors like Loretta C. Rogers use this one.) NOUN
10. dyrne – secret ADJECTIVE
11. erstwhile – belonging to some prior time (love this) ADJECTIVE
12. forsooth – used to mean `in truth’ but now usually expresses disbelief ADVERB
13. forswear – reject or disavow a formerly held belief VERB
14. gast – ghost, spirit NOUN
15. guma – man NOUN
16. hither – to this place, especially toward the speaker (Have you ever given a come hither look?) ADVERB
17. holt – forest NOUN
18. hund – dog NOUN
19. hyge – heart, courage NOUN (Hygelac is an ancient Swedish king and a character in the epic poem Beowulf.)
20. man – crime NOUN
21. mere – lake NOUN
22. soothsayer – fortune teller NOUN
23. stalwart – having rugged physical strength (This was used in a song sung by Giles in the musical Buffy episode.) ADJECTIVE
24. swain – male lover of a young woman NOUN
25. thither – toward that place, away from the speaker ADVERB
26. thwart – hinder VERB
27. whence – from what place, source, or cause ADVERB
28. wight – a human being NOUN
29. wizened – lean and wrinkled ADJECTIVE
30. wyrd – fate NOUN

Here is a fascinating You Tube video taking us back in time through the English language. Near the end The Lord’s Prayer is recited and appears onscreen in Old English.


Cheers & Happy Reading and Happy Old English Word of the Day in September!
Flossie Benton Rogers, Conjuring the Magic in Romance

Author on Board: Jennifer Taylor

Excitement is in the air! Fellow Sunshine State Romance Author Jennifer Taylor is visiting today to showcase her second historical romance, Heartbeat of the Moon. Her writing style is lyrical and her characters off the beaten path and compelling. Trust me– you will love her stories. 

Heartbeat of the Moon, Book Two of the Rhythm of the Moon Series

Blurb: Superstition sails into King’s Harbour with tales of winged monsters rising from the dead. Midwife Maggie and husband Ian fight for reason and logic when a friend’s nephew disappears from the grave, and the friend’s behavior becomes more animal than man.

As forces and bizarre events around the two lovers threaten their happiness, Maggie faces challenges from her expectant mothers and struggles to understand Ian’s troubling behavior. Ian endeavors to cure his mind’s affliction but fears the slide into insanity may be fatal.

Buy Heartbeat of the Moon:
The Wild Rose Press   
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Ian glanced her way, finally. “Do you think Josef has lost his wits?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “For we have seen stranger things than this, things I never thought were possible. And it’s as if…”


She shook her head. “It is fanciful and silly.”

“Maggie, I have told you before.” He came to her and took her hands. “Nothing you ever say to me will be taken lightly, for every word you utter is like holy writ to me.”

She moved into his embrace, her hands on his bristled cheeks. He was very warm. “The spirit of the holy nun lives in me still.” He nodded. “Something happened today.”

Josef moaned in his sleep. “Let me in. The beast is out there, in the woods, and he comes for us. Where are your weapons? Where is Ana? Has she not arrived? The
beast is coming; do you hear it? No, the floor is sticky with her blood, I slipped in it, I could not help it,” Josef screamed.

“But I just saw her yesterday,” he continued in a voice not his own. “She sold chestnuts in the market. How can this be her, neck laid open? She will not stop
bleeding. Her eyes opened, she snarls.”

And his own voice returned. “No, stop screaming, sister. We must bury her, bury her deep.”

Fear rippled down Maggie’s back.

JenniferTaylorMercyOfTheMoon_w8691_750Mercy of the Moon, Book One of the Rhythm of the Moon Series


The door swung open, and Mr. Pierce, the singer from the kirkyard, thrust himself into the room. He carried a body in his arms, covered in a cloak. Blue-tinged, slender feet dangled from the tattered, mud-soaked hem.

Samuel stared in slack-jawed shock and backed away. “Why have you brought this body here?”

To Maggie’s astonishment, the body began convulsing in great spasms, and the singer struggled to hold it. The cloak fell off, revealing a shroud-wrapped body, only the face exposed. The eyes, ice blue, stared wide and unblinking and blank with terror.

Sarah’s eyes. Her lips blue, dirt-encrusted eyelashes, cleft chin.

“It cannot be,” Maggie whispered, and shrank back. Coldness enveloped her, as if she had slipped into a frozen lake, cold water surrounding her, and could hear only muffled voices, echoing urgent and sharp. She saw only shapes above the icy water.

“Miss Maggie.” 

A voice, masculine and hoarse, broke through the ice, and she stared into the singer’s eyes. They steadied and warmed, pulled her out of her daze.

“We must move her by the fire and rid her of this shroud,” Ian urged.

She took a deep, shaky breath. Yes. It was Sarah, yet the eyes stared unseeing in a blue-mottled face covered in dirt.

Samuel’s voice escalated in panic. “She was buried, she was dead. I saw her. How can this be?” He turned his head away.

Maggie grabbed him by the shoulders. “Samuel, you must look at her. Somehow it is our Sarah.”

Buy Mercy of the Moon:
The Wild Rose Press


Barnes and Noble

Jen TaylorBio:
Jennifer Taylor spent her childhood running wild on an Idaho mountainside. Although she’s lived across the U.S., she’s still an Idahoan at heart and a notorious potato pusher. She’s been a roofer, a hoofer, a computer data entry operator, and a stay-at-home mom.

She’s dreamt of writing historical romances since reading Wuthering Heights at the tender age of twelve, and is now living her dream of writing love stories set in 18th Century England. She feverishly lobbies for the return of breeches and would love to see her husband of 36 years in a pair.

Jennifer lives in rural Florida with her husband and goofy Great Dane. She is the author of Mercy of the Moon, Book One of the Rhythm of the Moon Series, and the newly released Book Two, Heartbeat of the Moon, published by the Wild Rose Press.

Jennifer’s Hangouts:

Website     Facebook     Twitter

Goodreads     Newsletter    

Cheers & Happy Reading!

Flossie Benton Rogers, Conjuring the Magic in Romance

Writer Wednesday: Reviewers Welcome

Time to focus on reviews! #AugustReviews I am reblogging this from Rosie Amber via my cyber friend Carmen Stefanescu. Point is, authors need and appreciate reviews and love reviewers.


Readers from all over the world are being inspired to post reviews for books they’ve read on Amazon.

In a Bold attempt to increase reader awareness of the importance of book reviews to all authors, Terry Tyler is leading the campaign to get more people posting those all important reviews on Amazon.

Read the full post from Rosie Amber.

Cheers & Happy Reading!

Flossie Benton Rogers, Conjuring the Magic in Romance

Tuesday Tales: Writing Gray

gray-tabby-cat-with-green-eyes-close-up-600x600Tuesday Tales is a weekly blog featuring diverse authors who post excerpts from their works in progress based on word and picture prompts. We’re a dedicated group that enjoys reading as much as you do. Today our key word is gray. My snippet is from a vintage paranormal romance set in the 1950s. Please visit the other fabulous authors at Tuesday Tales.

With a deep belly sigh, the old woman squeezed Laura’s hand before releasing it. “That’s all. Spirit done for now.”


“Your man’s alive. Be thankful for that.”

“I am, of course.” She flexed her fingers to alleviate the tingling sensation left over from the spirit contact or whatever it was flowing through the seer.

“Shake it.”

Laura jumped at the abrupt command. “What?”

“Like this.” Miss Sarah’s hand flapped wildly in the air. “Gets the spookies off.”

Laura half-heartedly followed suit. She bit her bottom lip. “So, there was no other information about Jeffrey? How badly he’s hurt? When he’s coming home?”

A gray tabby leapt onto the table, staring with alert pale eyes. “Scat!” Miss Sarah brushed it off. “Not directly.”

“What do you mean?”

“That all spirit showed me, but I get the feeling you will learn something more in the next few days. Try to keep peaceable about it. Spirit has a hand in the goings on and will let you know if you need to come back out here for another go round. Meantime, you’ll see something on your own. Pay attention.”

Clueless at that pronouncement, Laura pushed back her chair and rose. She didn’t have a smidgen of what her granny called the sight. “Thank you.”

The old woman nodded, heaving herself up with a mighty groan. “These old bones ain’t what they used to be.”

When Laura reached the front porch, the pungent scent of pond lilies permeated the air. Old Ben reappeared to escort her back to the car. “Careful on the road out. Deer are prancing about this time of night. Swamp’s not safe for the living or dead.”

For the living or dead. On the winding road words flashed in her mind, like a pulsing neon sign. Not dead. Not dead. Not dead. She gripped the wheel to keep from veering off into the bog. A leaden ball still lay in her stomach. Was she losing her hold on reality? She didn’t feel the elation she expected. “Oh Jeffrey, are you really alive?”Tuesday Tales

I hope you enjoyed my take on gray. Thanks for stopping by. Please visit the other fabulous authors at Tuesday Tales.

Cheers & Happy Reading!
Flossie Benton Rogers, Conjuring the Magic in Romance

Mythic Monday: The Dreamer


James Tissot - The Dreamer

The Dreamer James Tissot [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

Hesiod speaks of dreams as the children of the goddess Nyx (Night), and siblings to Hypnos (Sleep) and Thanatos (Death). Morpheus is the leader of the gods of dreams. This dark, resplendent family dwells in the western seas near the setting sun and realm of the dead. Traveling toward a dreaming person, true dreams glide from the West through a gate of horn and illusory dreams through a gate of ivory. Only the Olympian gods, Hermes in particular, have domain over Morpheus and the dream gods, and use dreams to communicate with humans. At times the Olympian gods create dream figures of their own that travel to the chamber of the dreamer or morph into a different form and appear in dreams. A dreamer so visited is truly blessed.

I love that the remarkable musician Michael Levy allows us to hear the lyre of the ancients. His work can be purchased on iTunes.

Cheers & Happy Reading!

Flossie Benton Rogers, Conjuring the Magic in Romance

Vintage Friday: Peanut Butter Cookies with Pizzazz

PeanutsThese are from a time of “hurry up” but inventive and delicious sweets. In the 1980s microwaves became common and helped save time and keep the kidlings content. The recipes have a certain amount of whimsy, which I love.


Ingredients: 1 large egg, 1 cup sugar, 1 cup crunchy peanut butter, about 3 dozen unwrapped chocolate candy kisses

Directions: Mix the first three ingredients and shape into balls about ¼ inch in diameter. Place on ungreased baking sheet and bake for 10 minutes in a pre-heated 350 degree oven. Remove from oven, stabilize baking sheet, and immediately press a chocolate candy kiss into the center of each cookie. Cool cookies on wire rack.

TOP O’ THE MORNING clovercropped

Ingredients: 1 medium Idaho potato, 2 pounds powdered sugar, ½ teaspoon peppermint extract, 3 drops green food coloring, 1 ½ cups creamy peanut butter

Directions: Prick holes in the potato and cook in the microwave for about 5 minutes or until soft. Place it in a large bowl, along with 2 cups of powdered sugar. Mash the sugar and potato, continuing to add enough sugar to make the mixture semi-solid but with no lumps. Add the peppermint extract and the green food coloring and mix thoroughly. Turn out dough onto waxed paper and roll with a rolling pin to ½ inch thickness. Caress the top of the dough with powdered sugar, and then spread peanut butter over that. Lift the wax paper from one end and form the dough into a log shape. Slice and serve or store for later in a covered container.


Ingredients: 2 pounds of bark chocolate, large box Ritz crackers, large jar creamy peanut butter

Directions: Spread peanut butter between two crackers and repeat to make 3 dozen pairs. Melt chocolate bark in microwave. Use tongs to carefully dip crackers in chocolate and let drip before placing on wax paper to harden. Freeze the cookies. Eat at your pleasure.

Cheers & Happy Reading!
Flossie Benton Rogers, Conjuring the Magic in Romance

Author on Board: V.L. Locey

VL Locey Tape to Tape_ebook_SMALL

Author V.L. Locey amazes me with her prolific production and ability to write in many different genres. Please welcome her front and center with a new release, Tape to Tape, a hot hockey romance that will knock your socks off!

Venom defensive coach Dot “The Shadow” West has made a nice life for herself. She’s found a new position on an up-and-coming women’s professional hockey team, her daughter is thriving, she gets along well with her fellow coaches and her players admire and respect her. She’s proud to have accomplished so much by herself. Everything is running smoothly in her life with no help from anyone, thank you very much.

Sadly, there’s one annoying glitch in Dot’s new life, and it’s in the form of good-looking Theo Grier, former Wildcat goalie and co-host of a controversial sports talk radio show based in Philadelphia, home of the Venom. When Dot loses her cool and calls in to spar with Theo on the air her structured and solitary existence takes a sudden unexpected turn. Before she can hip check the smug fool out of her life she somehow ends up working with him on a new talk radio sports program.

Can she defend her heart against the unwanted feelings Theo is stirring up? Or will she continue to guard herself, and her past decisions, against the offensive moves being made by the ex-goalie? The only man to ignite her passions – and ire – in years?

Buy Links:    Amazon     Smashwords     B&N     Kobo


“Security lets you down here?” I asked.

“I’m an old ‘Cat. They love me down here,” he informed me. I walked past him and began to pull on a mitten. “I thought maybe we could grab a cup of coffee and discuss the show next Monday.” That made me pause for a scant moment but just for a moment. I kept walking and dressing. Theo caught up to me with ease. His legs were as long as a thoroughbred’s. “Did you hear me?”

“Yes, I heard you. I then chose to ignore you.” I wrapped a red and black scarf around my neck, nodded at Eddie the security guard stationed by the staff/players entrance, and then stepped out into a freezing cold Philadelphia night.

“You plan on treating me this coldly forever?” Theo asked as I slid past him. If he thought holding the door open for me would chill me out, he was sorely mistaken.

“Probably,” I said with my eyes locked on my blue Honda Pilot. “My grandmother always said that the best way to deal with a wart was to freeze it.”

“Ouch,” Theo chuckled while keeping up with my pace easily. Each breath out clouded in front of my face. “I hope I’m just a finger wart and not an anal wart.”

“Oh, you’re an anal wart. One of the biggest ones that I have ever had the misfortune to encounter,” I parried as my Honda got closer and closer. Theo jumped ahead of me to bar my path. I gave him a lethal glare. He smiled and held out his hand. I eyed it warily as if it were an asp ready to strike.

“Coach West, I think we need to start over,” Theo said as his hand hung in the cold air. I raised my eyes from his big hand to his face. Then I gave him a strong “Please spare me” look. The man didn’t have the sense to stop trying to be sexy. A gust right off an iceberg howled around the Houseman, lifting Theo’s white scarf high into the air behind him. “It’s a pleasure to meet you in person, Coach West. I’m Theo Grier, ex-goalie and world’s largest walking anal wart.”

I snorted and glanced up at the LED parking lot light wobbling overhead.
“Could that have been a smile I saw on ‘The Shadow’s’ face?” Theo asked. I rolled my eyes then shook my head.

“It was a tiny sneeze.”

“Right, a sneeze,” he said with just a hint of skepticism. “Maybe you should shake my hand so you can get out of this nasty cold weather. A hot cup of coffee at the Black Boar Bar & Grill might be just what you need to help thaw out, Coach West.”

“For your information, Mr. Grier, I do not need to thaw out. I’m quite comfortable, toasty warm, hot even,” I replied keeping my arms crossed over my chest.

“Yes, that you are,” Theo said in a vibrating voice that had dropped just a smidgeon. There was something about his voice, the way he held himself, and that damned large hand of his still waiting for mine that made me feel a trifle too warm inside my coat.

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Mr. Grier.” I pushed around him.

“How about honesty then,” he said and then planted his massive self in front of me once again.

“You’re persistent, I’ll give you that,” I sighed.

“When I see something I want, I go after it.”

“And you want me?” I asked.

“Yeah, I want you to shake my hand and join me for coffee,” he countered smoothly. I studied his face then with a huff extended my hand, all toasty warm in my mitten, to him. His fingers curled around mine, making my hand glow like a red coal in a fire pit. We shook slowly, one could have said sensuously, but handshakes with mittens blocking the skin-to-skin can’t be sensual, can they?

VL LoceyV.L. Locey loves worn jeans, yoga, belly laughs, reading and writing lusty tales, Greek mythology, the New York Rangers, comic books, and coffee. (Not necessarily in that order.) She shares her life with her husband, her daughter, one dog, two cats, a flock of assorted domestic fowl, and two Jersey steers.
When not writing spicy romances, she enjoys spending her day with her menagerie in the rolling hills of Pennsylvania with a cup of fresh java in hand. She can also be found online on Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, and GoodReads.

Author Links:     Facebook     Twitter     Blog     Pinterest     Goodreads

Gone Writing Publishing Backlist Books and Upcoming Releases by VL Locey
Pink Pucks & Power Plays (Book One of the To Love a Wildcat Series)
A Most Unlikely Countess (Book Two of the To Love a Wildcat Series)
O Captain! My Captain! (Book Three of the To Love a Wildcat Series)
Reality Check (Book Four of the To Love a Wildcat Series)
Language of Love (Book Five of the To Love a Wildcat Series)
Final Shifts (Book Six of the To Love a Wildcat Series)
Clean Sweep (Book One of the Venom Series)
Twirly Girl (Book Two of the Venom Series)
Tape to Tape (Book Three of the Venom Series)

Coming Nov. 16…Roster Addition (a To Love a Wildcat hockey romance novella)

Torquere Press Backlist and Upcoming Releases by VL Locey
Two Guys Walk Into an Apocalypse (Part of the He Loves Me For My Brainssss anthology)
Two Guys Walk Into an Apocalypse 2: It Came From Birmingham
Two Guys Walk Into an Apocalypse 3: He’s a Lumberjack and Hes Undead
Love of the Hunter
s Penalty
All I Want for Christmas – A Toms & Tabbies Tale
Early to Rise – A Toms & Tabbies Tale
Every Sunday at One (Part of the 2013 Charity Sip Anthology)
Night of the Jackal
An Erie Halloween
An Erie Operetta
An Erie Garden Party
Back to the Garden (Also part of the Mythologically Torqued Anthology)

Ellora`s Cave Backlist and Upcoming Releases by VL Locey
Bound, Boarded and Bagged
Two Man Advantage
Game Misconduct
Full Strength
Shutdown Pair
Long Change

Independent Releases  by VL Locey
Coming October 5, 2016…On Broadway (part of the Changing on the Fly M/M hockey romance charity novella)
Coming Dec. 20, 2016…Holly & Hockey Boots (a gay erotic holiday hockey romance)

Thanks for stopping by and Happy Reading!

Flossie Benton Rogers, Conjuring the Magic in Romance

Author on Board: Carmen Stefanescu

Carmen Till Life Do us part-001Author and cyber friend Carmen Stefanescu has a fabulous character interview on Lisa Burton radio! It is not to be missed.

Till Life do us Part, on Lisa Burton Radio

The book Till Life Do Us Part is not to be missed either. What a compelling story! You can find it wherever fine eBooks are sold, including Amazon.

Cheers & Happy Reading!

Flossie Benton Rogers, Conjuring the Magic in Romance

Tuesday Tales: Writing Fly

Tuesday TalesTuesday Tales is a weekly blog featuring diverse authors who post excerpts from their works in progress based on word and picture prompts. We’re a dedicated group that enjoys reading as much as you do. Today our word prompt is fly. My snippet is from a vintage paranormal romance set in the 1950s. Please visit the other fabulous authors at Tuesday Tales.

Miss Sarah’s words plucked at her gut like the sharp edge of a chisel. Laura squeezed her eyes shut. If only she could blot out the world that way. Forget everything clawing at her. Chimes of little girl voices floated through from the back porch. She opened her eyes, meeting the astute assessment of the woman sitting across from her with a direct look of her own. “Yes, I want to know about Jeffrey. Keep the quarter.”

The coin disappeared into the safety of the bosom. A capable hand scooped the pile of change out of the way and rested on the table, palm up. Fingers fluttered. “Let’s see.”

Laura’s hand trembled as she gave it over to Miss Sarah.

A light squeeze reassured her. “Be peaceable now. Sparks are gonna fly right out of that head of yours if you don’t take a hold.”

She pulled in a deep breath, let it out, and focused on the flame of the kerosene lamp. It had stopped sputtering and now took on a soft waving motion in the darkened kitchen. The purple spot near the tip pulled at her, and she let herself fall into it.

“Speak now. Tell me what you want to know.”

She swallowed. It was hard to find her voice. “I—I want to know how Jeffrey is. My husband. His letter is late.”

A thumb spun lightly over her palm, and the old woman’s pronouncement came out a wispy spiderweb. “Your husband. Jeffrey. Over the water in that Korea.”


“I’m having trouble finding him. He’s not in his place. He’s—ah—there’s fighting.”

A gasp escaped her parched throat. “Is he–is he…?”

Silence stretched out for what seemed like a lifetime. “Hurt, but not dead.”

Not dead. Not dead. Not dead. “Will he be all right? When will he come home to us?”

Thanks for stopping by. Please visit the other fabulous authors at Tuesday Tales.

Cheers & Happy Reading!
Flossie Benton Rogers, Conjuring the Magic in Romance

Mythic Monday: ‎What You Should Know About Lughnasadh

Contemporary male Corn dolly

Male Corn Dolly by Mountainash333 [GFDL ( or CC BY-SA 3.0 (], via Wikimedia Commons

Lughnasadh or Lammas is a traditional Celtic celebration that falls on August 1. On the Wheel of the Year, it designates the midpoint between the Summer Solstice and the Autumn Equinox. Lughnasadh is one of four great festivals of ancient Ireland and Scotland. The others are Samhain (October 31), Imbolc (February 2), and Beltane (May 1). Each of the four falls on a midpoint between a solstice and an equinox on the Wheel of the Year.

The pagan originated holiday celebrated the first harvest of the year. With feasts of bilberries, apples, and corn, it was a time to give thanks for a bountiful harvest that would see the people through the long winter to come. It corresponds to harvest festivals in other countries, including the English Lammas. Cultural observances of Lughnasadh have resurged in modern times.

Traditional observances of Lughnasadh took place in Ireland and Scotland up until the 20th century, usually on the Sunday nearest August 1. The word Lughnasadh is the basis of the Gaelic word for August. Rites involved climbing hills and mountains to offer the first of the harvested corn to the god Lugh by burying it in a sacred high place. Other activities included feasts, athletic contests similar to the early Olympics, rituals that involved dancing and playacting, the sacrifice of a bull, sacred rites, religious observances, and handfasting or trial marriages. Through a hole in the door, a man and woman joined hands and then lived together for a year and a day. At the end of that period, they could stay together or amicably dissolve the union.

In the Sister Fidelma mystery novels by Peter Tremayne, the title character handfasts with the Saxon monk Eadulf. These are wonderful books. Fidelma is not only a sister in the religious order of the community of St. Brigid of Kildare, she is also a dalaigh or type of lawyer. The books put you smack dab into colorful and pivotal times in 7th century Ireland.

Lugh spear Millar

Lugh’s Spear by Harold Robert Millar [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

The Celtic god Lugh or Lug is said to have started his festival as a funeral service for his mother, the goddess Tailtiu. She was an earth mother goddess who symbolized the dying vegetation harvested to feed the people. How fitting that farmers honored the sacred life of vegetation just as ancient hunters honored the animals that would be slaughtered for food. Games and athletic competitions were an important historical aspect of the celebration in Tailtiu’s honor. Lugh is also identified as a High King of ancient Ireland. His father was one of the spendorous Tuatha de Danann, while his mother came from the Fomorian people. Since their marriage joined the two tribes, the handfasting aspect of Lughnasadh celebrations is particularly fitting. On a side note, the times of the Tuatha and Fomorians have always enthralled me, and the hero of one of my paranormal romances is a Fomorian, while the heroine has Tuatha blood in her ancestry.

According to Barbara G. Walker’s The Woman’s Encyclopedia of Myths and Secrets, the Celtic god Lug or Lugh was the basis of the former name of London, which was Lugdunum, and Lug’s temple was raised on Ludgate Hill. There also stood a great stone called the Bloody Crescent, which commemorated Lug’s wife, a moon goddess. Fascinatingly, the name Lug may have originated from ancient Mesopotamia. According to Joseph Campbell in The Masks of God: Oriental Mythology, the title of the king who served as the husband of the Great Goddess was lugal.

These cross cultural references of history and mythology send me into raptures, I must admit. I love it.  I hope you have enjoyed reading about the festival of Lughnasadh.

Cheers & Happy Reading!
Flossie Benton Rogers, Conjuring the Magic in Romance