Thank you for
having me today, Vonda!
I am a writer of historical romances. As a member of Romance Writers of America, Celtic Hearts Romance Writers and Celtic Rose Writers, I write historical romance. I’ve been an avid reader all my life and began writing seriously over eight years ago. In my day job, I am a registered nurse. It has been my privilege to practice pediatric nursing during my entire career. I’m also the wife of a retired U.S. Navy Officer. I've lived and traveled with him for the twenty-six years of his career. With him I've visited England, Canada, Mexico and all but four of the United States. Thanks to him, I've dipped my toes in every body of water that washes America’s shores, including the Gulfs of Mexico and California and even the Arctic Ocean (br-r). I’ve traveled over, under and on both the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans. After many journeys across this great nation and back again, I now live, love and write among the foothills of the Smoky Mountains in lovely Northeast Tennessee.
My blog is called Tuesday’s Child. As it happens, I was born on a Tuesday. I'm convinced my mother made a big mistake, though. I believe she meant to give birth to me on the previous Thursday. According to the old Mother Goose tale, which says Thursday's Child has far to go, my life would have been far better defined. I would also have been born under the sign of the lion, which would have reflected my redheaded temperament much, much better. It's true. What could my mother have been thinking??? (I really had red hair once upon a time. I was born with it and had it all my life--until not long ago...but that’s another story. But it’s true, too.)
According to that dear old Mother Goose tale, I should have been born full of grace. So very sad, but nobody ever, ever attributed that particular virtue to me. After only college class in dance, I was convinced of the unfortunate truth. I can’t sing, either. True. Nobody would ever ask me to do more than hum or add volume to a chorus. Nor can I paint, or even draw a picture. My mother was an artist. Dear Mom didn’t pass along a single shred of her skill. So what does a girl do whose soul demands expression? She becomes a writer to fulfill its burning need. That’s also a true story.
According to that dear old Mother Goose tale, I should have been born full of grace. So very sad, but nobody ever, ever attributed that particular virtue to me. After only college class in dance, I was convinced of the unfortunate truth. I can’t sing, either. True. Nobody would ever ask me to do more than hum or add volume to a chorus. Nor can I paint, or even draw a picture. My mother was an artist. Dear Mom didn’t pass along a single shred of her skill. So what does a girl do whose soul demands expression? She becomes a writer to fulfill its burning need. That’s also a true story.
The city of
Charleston, South Carolina with its graceful mansions and glorious gardens was
my inspiration for Dreams Within Dreams. I lived in the city twice, for several
years each, during my husband’s Navy tours of duty. It is one of the oldest
cities in the United States with a wealth of history behind it, and I confess
it—I’m a pushover for history. On this day after the first of our national
holidays, I thought you might enjoy a reading a short historical perspective—a
vignette into what you might have expected to find before our nation actually became a nation.
I’m fascinated—really fascinated—by the Revolutionary
War. Most of us view any such event from hindsight, including one that occurred
so very long ago. It’s tempting to always do so, after all. We’re Americans. We
kick ass and take names. America came so close to losing the war and remaining
a British colony, though. The outcome wasn’t
a foregone conclusion—not before it and certainly not during it. Those men from
so long ago took a huge step into the dark. There wasn’t another nation like us
anywhere on earth. And we weren’t all in agreement. (We still aren’t for that
matter!) We look at the Declaration of Independence now and, wow, our hearts
swell with pride. However, the thirteen different colonies viewed themselves
quite differently from each of their neighbors. Do you know they very nearly
failed to agree on the language—much less get everyone to sign it? Its true.
The document’s soaring language inspires us, especially during this part of the
year.
Here’s a little
blurb from my book to illustrate my point. My heroine’s father, Lord Edward
Campbell and step-mother, Anne, have arrived at the home she shares with her
husband and children, Oakhurst, a beautiful southern plantation.
Settling
into a chair on the verandah, a glass of cold lemonade at hand, Lord Edward
passed Richard a parchment tied with a purple silk ribbon. “It is a copy of a
document I want you to see. I am to hand it to His Majesty after we arrive in
London. It is my fondest hope he will not shoot the messenger.” His lips
twisted into a whimsical grin.
Richard
unrolled it and felt the blood drain from his face. “Dear God in Heaven,” he
breathed.
“What
is it?” Alexandra asked, trying to see over the arm he used to flatten the
manuscript to the table.
“A
moment, my dear.” He continued to read, uttering bits and pieces aloud.
“The
unanimous Declaration of the thirteen united States of America….”
“We
hold these truths to be self-evident….” His voice, thick with emotion, caught
in his throat. He turned his head to glance at Lord Edward. “… that all men are
created equal….”
“They
are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these
are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness….”
“And
for the support of this Declaration, with a firm reliance on the protection of
divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our Lives, our Fortunes and
our sacred Honor.”
Richard
sat back in his chair, his face pale and serious. He swiped at his eyes with
the back of his hand.
“It’s
a masterpiece.” He handed the document over to Alexandra and turned to Lord
Edward. “It has begun.”
“It
began months ago, my boy,” Lord Edward’s voice was grave. “Shots have been
fired and battles won and lost for over a year now.”
Alexandra finished
reading, and sniffed, her voice as thick as Richard’s had been. “Its perfect
language and simple eloquence move me to tears.” She handed the document back
to him. “I am fearful now. This document will certainly move His Majesty’s government...and excite their anger to
inflict a terrible retribution. God help us all.”
I
hope you’ll enjoy reading this book set, not only in Charleston, but also in
Georgian London and beautiful, beautiful Inveraray Castle, located on the
shores of Loch Fyne at the foot of Scotland’s Highlands.
Dreams Within Dreams: Richard Berkeley has won his treasure,
but Lord Thomas Graham is back, and Richard is on his home turf now. Laughable fop or a menacing foe? No matter which
it is, Richard will be damned if he lets himself become a Rob Roy for yet
another Marquis of Montrose.
War looms on the near horizon, forcing
Richard to make difficult choices—support his firmly held principles…or those
of his English family. Nothing will be safe, nobody will escape. If means exist to prevent disaster from
striking his wife, children, home, and people, he’ll find it. Worse yet,
Alexandra believes he is wrong in his choice. Will he lose her if he persists
with his choice?
Courage, Alexandra Berkeley’s special
gift…is also her curse. Lord Thomas Graham’s presence in their midst frightens
her, enrages her, turns her to ice. He lurks in shadows, behind doors…and among
strangers paid to accomplish his treacherous bidding. He’ll stop at nothing to
ruin the Campbells—nothing, Richard and Alexandra included. He’s struck at
Richard—once…twice…three times. How long before his malignant influence knocks
at Oakhurst’s great front door? It will not.
Not if she can prevent it.
Dreams Within Dreams is a tale that
sweeps the reader from the glittering Court of St. James to the elegant drawing
rooms of Charlestowne, of the South Carolina colony during the years
immediately preceding the Revolutionary War in the South.
Thank you for
visiting Richard and Alexandra and me today. I hope you’ll like reading this
book even half as much as I loved writing it. One lucky commenter will be the
winner of a $10 Amazon gift certificate by a random drawing. (Be sure to leave
me your e-mail address so I can contact you!)
Please visit Cate online:
Website:
http://www.cateparkeauthor.com
Blog:
Tuesday’s Child: http://www.cateparkeauthor.com/tuesdays-child.html
Twitter:
https://twitter.com/cateparke
Google+:
https://plus.google.com/+CateParke
Goodreads:
https://www.goodreads.com/Cate_Parke
Find Dreams Within Dreams at:
Amazon
Buy Link: http://amzn.com/B00KHECBW4
Barnes
and Noble buy link: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/dreams-within-dreams-cate-parke/1119589606?ean=2940149499205
Ibooks
buy link: http://ibookstore.com/products.php?i=B00KHECBW4
Turquoise Morning
Press: http://www.turquoisemorningpressbookstore.com/products/dreams-within-dreams-by-cate-parke
Thank you for being our special guest today, Cate!!
