'Tears of Blood"

Well today I finally finished my first historical fiction for adults.

Helga is a story of a young Pict girl who witnesses her mothers rape and murder at the hands of Viking raiders. Her village is destroyed and her father is thought dead.

She is rescued by a group of Norse traders, and with no home or family left, she reluctantly leaves with them and goes to Norway, There she becomes the adopted daughter of Jarl Harald Farhagre and his wife Asa.

Helga is complex with some serious issues. Not wanting to conform to her role as a woman of Vestfold, she riles against it, wanting only to fight as a warrior in the shield wall.

She yearns for revenge and is determined to kill the man responsible for her Mother's death.

This is the first story of a young girls journey from a child to womanhood. From a daughter of a Pict priestess, to a Viking shield maiden.

She is driven by destiny, determined to succeed at any cost.

But the 'Gods are fickle,' and she may lose more than she bargained for before her destiny is fulfilled.

I would love to find an agent that will take this onboard and publish on my behalf. That is my dream. However finding one that is willing to take on a new writer is no easy task. So if I am unsuccessful in attaining such fortune I will self-publish as I did with Michael Saxon earlier this year.

I will give it a chance though, so it maybe a while before Helga is seen in print.

I have plenty to keep me going and book two of the Michael Saxon series is already underway. There is every chance that Michael Saxon 'Trafalgar' will be published before Helga. Hopefully in the New Year.

Here is an excerpt from Helga just to wet the tastebuds, I hope you find it compelling...

There are no words to describe my panic and fear when I noticed the creature gliding through the bubbling surf. Its long neck pierced the waves and the sail on its back was a deep blood red. A white coiled serpent, ready to strike, lay upon the rippling fabric. The tide was incoming and with it came death.

I remember thinking, as I ran, that I would die. I had seen the shields and spears and heard the strange voices shouting from the monster's back. Their words were menacing and carried by the wistful wind, they chilled me to my very soul. I raced through the dunes, my feet sinking ankle deep; as if the monster had control of the sands beneath my feet and was trying to suck me down. It clung to them, making my escape slow and arduous. I turned in panic and saw men jumping down from the ship with shields now on their arms. Some carried spears, but most had swords or axes; they looked terrifying as they gathered together like a pack of wolves before the hunt.

I dropped my basket and used my hands to drag myself through the clinging sand. My feet kept slipping, sliding me back towards the invaded shore. I dropped to my knees and crawled frantically on all fours, grasping clumps of grass for leverage. I turned once more but could no longer see the men, only the serpent lurching back and forth with the gentle tide, its face glaring at me, mocking me. Then I was grabbed forcibly and dragged across the dunes. Shocked and fearful, I screamed.

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