The Giant Ghost of Pont-y-Glyn

Sorry to be late with my Welsh Myths feature - I'v been busy with galleys for my forthcoming paranormal romance - I'll be able to tell you more about that soon, I hope.

The Ghost of Pont-y-Glyn

There is a picturesque glen between Corwen and Cerrig-y-Drudion, down which rushes a mountain stream, and over this stream is a bridge, called Pont-y-Glyn.  On the left hand side, a few yards from the bridge, on the Corwen side, is a yawning chasm, through which the river rushes.  Here people who have travelled by night swear they have seen ghosts—the ghosts of those who have been murdered in this secluded glen. 

A man who was a servant at Garth Meilio, said that one night, when he was returning home late from Corwen, he saw before him, seated on a heap of stones, a female dressed in Welsh costume.  He wished her good night, but she gave him no answer.  She, got up and grew to gigantic proportions as she continued down the road which she filled, so great were her increased dimensions. I'm not sure what his reaction was - if I'd been in his place I think I'd have run for home as fast as I could!

Other spirits are said to have made their homes in the hills not far from 
Pont-y-Glyn, including a ghostly mastiff.

Pont-y-Glyn is a beautiful spot - but better not to go there at night, perhaps!

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Black Dogs and Arthur's Seat - Welsh folklore.

Welcome to another episode of Welsh myths and legends

In Welsh mythology and folklore, Cŵn Annwn  ("hounds of Annwn") were the spectral hounds of Annwn, the otherworld of Welsh myth. They were associated with a form of the Wild Hunt, presided over by Gwynn ap Nudd. Christians came to dub these mythical creatures as "The Hounds of Hell" or "Dogs of Hell" and theorised they were therefore owned by Satan. However, the Annwn of medieval Welsh tradition is an otherworldly paradise and not a hell, or abode of dead souls.

They were associated with migrating geese, supposedly because their honking in the night is reminiscent of barking dogs.

The Cŵn Annwn also came to be regarded as the escorts of souls on their journey to the Otherworld.

The hounds are sometimes accompanied by a fearsome hag called Mallt-y-Nos, "Matilda of the Night". An alternative name in Welsh folklore is Cŵn Mamau ("Hounds of the Mothers").

Hunting grounds for the Cŵn Annwn are said to include the mountain of  Cadair Idris, where it is believed the howling of these huge dogs foretold death to anyone who heard them. The locals claim that the mountain is haunted, and that anyone who spends the night on top of Cadair Idris will wake up either a madman or a poet. Different legends surround the mountain and one of the earliest, claims that the giant Idris lived there. Three large stones rest at the foot of the mountain, and legend says that Idris got angry once and kicked them, sending them rolling down the mountainside.  Other Welsh legends state, however, that  King Arthur made his kingdom there, hence the name Cadair Idris: or the Seat of Idris. Being Welsh, of course I subscribe to this theory myself!

Cadair Idris



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Happy Saint David's Day!

Daffs for Taffs! (Taff is a nickname for a Welsh person!)

I make no apologies for being unashamedly patriotic today

MARCH THE FIRST IS ST DAVID'S DAY!

I have put my Welsh flag up in the garden and am wearing my daffodil.  I always hope one or two daffoldils will be out in the garden by St David's Day - but this year I've had a few coming out each day since the middle of February. (Thanks to Global Warming I suppose. It has a few 'ups' amid all the concerns it brings.)

(The leek is also a traditional Welsh symbol worn on this day, because St David is said to have ordered his Welsh soldiers to wear leeks in their helmets when they went into battle against the Saxons, but the daffodil is prettier and doesn't smell so strongly! :) )

ST DAVID'S DAY TRADITIONS
Many people outside Wales don't realise that St David's Day is as important to the Welsh as St Patrick's Day is to the Irish. Each year, the annual St David’s Day parade takes place on 1st March,  in Cardiff. A colourful parade takes place in the city centre. There will be parades across the whole of Wales including in Aberystwyth, Cardiganshire) my hometown, and in Caernarfon,  Llandudno and Wrexham, plus a variety of St David's Day Celebrations in Bargoed, Blackwood, Caerphilly And Risca Town Centre.

The day is also commemorated with children taking part in concerts called 'Eisteddfods'  in schools or village halls.

FOOD

Cawl

A variety of traditional Welsh food is eaten, in particular, cawl, a clear soup,made of course,with leeks as a prime ingredient, eaten with bread and cheese. Its meat content varies with the region. Where I come from, which is mountainous sheep country, it  is always  lamb or mutton, but it can also be fish, bacon or sometimes beef. The broth or soup also includes potatoes, carrots, and other seasonal vegetables.

Welsh cakes

Then there are Welsh cakes, a kind of scone,  rolled out as a dough with currents, and baked on a griddle or 'bakestone'and  absolutely delicious served hot with butter, and just as good cold, sprinkled with a little sugar, then there is bara brith, a malty fruit cake made with tea, cut like bread and spread with butter,  and Welsh rarebit, toast covered with rich cheese sauce made with beer and seasoned with Worcester sauce, then poured onto the toast and grilled until bubbling.

Traditional Welsh costume

ST DAVID
So who was St David. and why March the 1st?                              

Well he died on that day in 589AD.

Dewi (the Welsh form of David) was born to Welsh nobility in the late fifth or possibly early sixth century.  The Anglo-Saxons had invaded Britain by that point and had driven most of the inhabitants into what was known as the Celtic Fringe: Scotland, Ireland, Wales, Cornwall, and Brittany.

He was educated in Cardiganshire and then went on pilgrimages, founding religious centres across Wales and England, including one at Glastonbury. He even travelled as far as Jerusalem, where he was made an archbishop.

He eventually settled at Glyn Rhosyn (now St Davids), in south west Wales, where he established a religious community. Many miracles have been attributed to him.including causing the ground to rise beneath him when preaching so that everyone could see and hear him.

When David died he told his devoted followers to: "Be cheerful and keep your faith and belief, and do the little things that you have heard and seen through me."

His remains were buried at the Cathedral of St Davids in Pembrokeshire. It became a popular place of pilgrimage and  two pigramages to St Davids were said to equal one to Rome and three equalled one to Jerusalem.

THE RED DRAGON

To end with I thought I'd tell you why the red dragon (Ddraig Goch) appears on the flag of Wales.  You might be surprised that it relates to the Arthurian legends.

King Vortigern came to the mountains of Eryri, in Gwynedd. On the summit of one of these, which was then called Dinas Ffaraon, he decided to build a fortress.

Then the king sent for artificers, carpenters, and stonemasons, and collected all the materials for building. In the night, however,they all disappeared. Materials were procured from all parts a second time, but a second time they disappeared in the night. A third time everything was brought together for building, but by morning again not a trace of them remained.

Vortigern called his wise men together and they told him he must find a child born without a father, put him to death, and sprinkle with his blood the ground on which the citadel was to be built.

The king thought the advice of his wise men was good and sent messengers throughout Britain in search of a child born without a father.When they eventually found one, they took him to Vortigern the king.

The boy asked why he had been brought before the king and when they told him he was to be sacrificed to enable Vortigern to build a fortress, he told the king his wise men were wrong and that there was a pool beneath the ground where they were trying to build. In the pool were two vases and in the vases a tent. In the tent were two sleeping dragons, one white and one red.

The dragons fought each other, and eventually the red one won the battle and drove the white one away.

The boy told the king and his wise men that the pool was the emblem of this world, and the tent that of Vortigern's kingdom. The red dragon was the king's, but the white serpent was the dragon of the Saxons,  At length, however, his people would rise and drive the Saxon race beyond the sea. But he must seek another place to build his citadel.

The boy's life was spared. He became famous as the great magician Myrddin Emrys , or Myrddin ab Morfryn (Merlin, as he is called in English), and the mountain on which he proved his mighty power was called  Dinas Emrys instead of Dinas Ffaraon.  Thereafter the red dragon became the symbol of Wales and is portrayed on the Welsh flag.

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Welsh Legends - Devil's Bridge

This week I thought I 'd turn to a rather more light hearted tale - the legend of Devil's Bridge. I have featured this before but if you haven't heard it before, I think you'll enjoy it - and if you have, I hope you don't mind me repeating it. It's one of my favourite Welsh legends.

I used to live near a well known beauty spot called Pontarfynach, or Devils Bridge. It is really three bridges, built over a spectacular and beautiful waterfall, which rages down into a deep pool known as the Devils Punchbowl. The first bridge was built by the Monks of Strata Florida, (where the Holy Grail is reputed to have been hidden for a while) in 1075. In the 18th Century it was deemed to be unsafe, and a second bridge was built, over the first. The third bridge being built over that in 1901. I thought it would be nice to share the legend of how the first bridge was built:  

An old woman had a cow of which she was very fond, and which provided her with all the milk she needed. Early one morning she was distraught to find that the cow had somehow managed to cross the river and was now grazing on the bank the other side. The old lady looked at the swirling river and wondered how she would be able to get her cow back. “What the Devil can I do now?” she asked aloud.

At once there was a smell of sulphur and a cloud of thick smoke, out of the middle of which appeared Old Nick himself! “You called?” he smirked. The old lady was made of stern stuff, and after a moment’s hesitation, she explained her predicament. Satan grinned wickedly. “That’s easily sorted,” he said craftily, “I can build you a bridge – but it will cost you.”

“How much?” the old lady asked uneasily. “Oh nothing much, just the soul of the first living thing to cross the bridge,” the Devil stated cunningly, knowing full well that she would have to cross the bridge herself to get her cow.

 “Done!” said the old woman. The Devil waved his arms and there, spanning the falls, was a beautiful new stone bridge. The Devil laughed nastily, “Now for my payment he said smugly. The old lady was not as naïve as she appeared. She put her hand into her apron pocket and drew out a crust of bread which she had put there for her breakfast, and threw it across to the other side of the bridge. Immediately her little dog ran across the bridge and gobbled it up.

Satan knew he had been outwitted, the soul of a dog was of no use to him; he scowled furiously and disappeared in an even bigger cloud of foul smelling black smoke than the first, and was never seen in those parts again. The old woman crossed the lovely new bridge, and having retrieved both her cow and her dog, made her way home, humming softly to herself. The bridge still remains, to this very day. (Although two later bridges have been built above it, and today it has the usual tourist trappings.)

You'll rarely see the Devil in Wales these days, local folk say he's too embarrassed to show his face!

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Welsh myths and legends - Llamhigyn Y Dwr, or the Water Leaper.

Continuing my series of weird and wonderful Welsh mythical creatures, we return to the water this week, and a creature known as Llamhigyn Y Dwr, or the Water Leaper. It is an evil creature, described as a monstrous, carnivorous toad with a long tail and  bat's wings instead of legs, having no hind legs. The tail has a sting on the end.

 It jumps across the water using its wings, hence its name.

It is especially prevalent around two Welsh lakes - Llyn Gwynan and Llyn Glas,where it preys on unwary sheep or dogs, takes the bait and fish off fishermen's hooks and can even pull the fishermen themselves into the lake,, The water leapers are fast, powerful swimmers, capable of pulling an angler out of a boat. So, if you ever go fishing in a Welsh lake, please be very, very careful!

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Welsh Myths and Legends - the Welsh dragon

Hello again, and if I have any male readers - I hope you had a truly loving and happy Father's Day.

In my series on Welsh myths and legends, the last few weeks have been devoted to mythical legends. It would be very remiss of me not to mention the famous Welsh dragon - Y Graig Goch - which appears on the Welsh flag. (LOL not many countries have a dragon on their flag, do they!)

You might be surprised that it relates to the Arthurian legends.

King Vortigern came to the mountains of Eryri, in Gwynedd. On the summit of one of these, which was then called Dinas Ffaraon, he decided to build a fortress.

Then the king sent for artificers, carpenters, and stonemasons, and collected all the materials for building. In the night, however,they all disappeared. Materials were procured from all parts a second time, but a second time they disappeared in the night. A third time everything was brought together for building, but by morning again not a trace of them remained.

Vortigern called his wise men together and they told him he must find a child born without a father, put him to death, and sprinkle with his blood the ground on which the citadel was to be built.

The king thought the advice of his wise men was good and sent messengers throughout Britain in search of a child born without a father.When they eventually found one, they took him to Vortigern the king.

The boy asked why he had been brought before the king and when they told him he was to be sacrificed to enable Vortigern to build a fortress, he told the king his wise men were wrong and that there was a pool beneath the ground where they were trying to build. In the pool were two vases and in the vases a tent.  in the tent were two sleeping dragons, one white and one red.

The dragons fought each other, and the eventually the red one won the battle and drove the white one away.

The boy told the king and his wise men that the pool was the emblem of this world, and the tent that of Vortigern's kingdom. The red dragon was the king's, but the white serpent was the dragon of the Saxons,  At length, however, his people would rise and drive the Saxon race beyond the sea. But he must seek another place to build his citadel.

The boy's life was spared. He became famous as the great magician Myrddin Emrys , or Myrddin ab Morfryn (Merlin, as he is called in English), and the mountain on which he proved his mighty power was called  Dinas Emrys instead of Dinas Ffaraon.  Thereafter the red dragon became the symbol of Wales and portrayed on the Welsh flag.

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More Welsh folk tales and legends - Rhiannon the horse goddess

Apologies for missing my post last week - its been somewhat hectic as my husband has been in hospital (thankfully not the virus, and he's out now) but it's been a worrying time and I just haven't had the time to devote to my writing or my blog. Anyway, I'm back now, and as  a horse lover, I couldn't resist telling you about Rhiannon - a horse goddess depicted in the Mabinogion, a collection of Welsh folk tales.

Rhiannon was married to Pwyll, the Lord of Dyfed. When Pwyll first saw her, she appeared as a beautiful woman dressed in gold, riding a magnificent white horse. Rhiannon managed to outrun Pwyll for three days, and then when he shouted to her to stop, allowed him to catch up. When he said he'd fallen in love with her and wanted to marry her, she scolded him for not telling her  to stop before, and making his poor horse work so hard. Then she said she'd be happy to marry him, because it would save her from marrying Gwawl, who she despised and who had tricked her into an engagement. Rhiannon and Pwyll conspired together to deceive Gwawl and thus Pwyll won her as his bride. 

Three years after they married,  Rhiannon gave birth to a son, but he disappeared at night while his nursemaids, who were supposed to have been watching over him, fell asleep. Frightened of the consequences, the nursemaids smeared the blood of a dead puppy on the face of their sleeping queen. When she awoke, Rhiannon was accused of killing and her son and eating him. As penance, she was made to sit outside the castle walls, and tell passers by what she had done. Pwyll, however, stood by her,  refusing to send her away or have her more severely punished.

The newborn child had been in fact found by Teyrnon, the lord of Gwent-Is-Coed. He was a horse lord whose beautiful mare gave him a foal every May Eve, but  each year. the foal would disappear. Before his mare had her next foal he took her into his house and sat vigil with her. After her foal was born he saw a monstrous claw trying to take the newborn foal through the window, so he slashed at the monster with his sword, before rushing outside. He found the monster gone, and a human baby lying by the door. He and his wife cared for the boy as their own, naming him Gwri Wallt Euryn (Gwri of the Golden Hair). The child grew rapidly, and had a great affinity for horses. As the boy grewTeyrnon who once served Pwyll as a courtier, recognised his resemblance to his father. He was an honourable man, and so he returned the boy to the Dyfed royal house.

Rhiannon is also connected to three mystical birds. The Birds of Rhiannon (Adar Rhiannon) appear in the Second Branch, in the Triads of Britain, and in Culhwch ac Olwen. In the latter, the giant Ysbaddaden demands them as part of the bride price of his daughter. They are described as "they that wake the dead and lull the living to sleep."

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The legend of Merlin's Oak

Happy Monday, my lovelies, I hope today finds you well and safe, and not too frustrated by 'lock-down.'

As promised, I thought I'd tell you about Merlin's Oak, which stood in the centre of Carmarthen town. (I was lucky enough to see the remains of it before it was removed.)

(Not this one, but one very much like it!)

Legend has it that King Arthur’s famous wizard placed a protective curse on the tree. The wizard said Carmarthen would 'drown' if the oak was ever removed. Some folk said a curious, pointed notch in the tree was the face of Merlin himself.

Sadly, in the 1850s, a local vicar, who objected to young people courting beneath it, but its trunk was preserved within iron railings. In the year 1951, a branch was broken off of the tree and it lies now in the Carmarthen Museum. It was  removed from the town when someone set it on fire at the end of the 1970s.

Carmarthen then suffered its worst floods for many years. In 1978, the last remaining fragments  of the tree-stump were  placed in Carmarthen’s Civic Hall.

Google Images

(The name Myrddin is  the second element of the place-name Caerfyrddin, the Welsh name for Carmarthen) and I'm happy to say Carmarthen is still standing, indeed flourishing, despite the floods that caused so much devastation.)

However, in a way,  Merlin’s Oak is back in Carmarthen, the town which he said would fall “when Merlin’s Tree shall tumble down”.

A Cambridge-born sculptor, living in Wales, bought a 500 year old oak which had been felled in Carmarthen to make way for a new superstore. The sculpture is one of the centrepieces of a spectacular  town centre shopping development called Merlin’s Walk.

Before the carving began, Mr Hedger,said: “The townspeople of Carmarthen will breathe easier whenMerlin’s Oak is back in the town centre.“We will have an oak which definitely has Merlin inside it – back where he belongs.”

The statue of Merlin is adorned with the symbols of nature and the Celtic religion that for him was a way of life.

"From his twisted honeysuckle beard that falls from his smiling face which holds his bardic wisdom. On his left shoulder sits the dragon of nature's temptation and in his hand the three sticks and a
rope with thirteen knots; a druids measuring kit, in the other, a bag of healing herbs from the garden of your imagination. The feathered horn of the orax hangs on his shoulder, whilst the La Tène torc is tied to his belt.

Embroidered on his back is the story of Blodeuwedd, for in the day the eye of the owl is the open flower but at night blodeuwedd is the owl. Ortywyllwch Ir goleuni, from the darkness into the light, as meant in Welsh, to be inspired. These are the words that are carved into the trunk of Myrddin. Where the three spirals ripple from the water source, you can run your finger through the journey of life to the labyrinth."

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Nanteos Mansion and its ghosts

Hello lovelies -

I hope you're staying well and surviving the enforced 'staying at home' and 'social distancing'.

Nanteos Mansion

Although I've lived in a small village in England since my marriage, my heart is still in my homeland and I cherish the times when I've been able to go back to visit my family and my old haunts, and long for the time when I'll be able to do so again.

One of my favourite places is Nanteos Mansion, set in about thirty acres of land near where I used to live. I used to keep my horses at the beautiful old stables and spent many a happy hour soaking up the atmosphere of this historic house. Nanteos is a Grade I listed, early Georgian country house situated just outside Aberystwyth, on Wales’s west coast. The house was built in 1738 by William Powell, and it remained the Powell family home for over 200 years, until the 1950s, when Lady Powell, the last of the family, died without children and the Mansion fell into the hands of a distant relative.

Horses in front of the mansion

Nanteos Mansion is also reputed to be home to a number of ghosts. These include the spirit of Elizabeth Powell, the late wife of William Powell, who wanders the hallways looking for her lost jewels; a phantom horse and carriage that pulls up to the front entrance in the middle of the night; and the ghost of harpist Gruffydd Evan, who played for the Powell family in the music room every Christmas for 69 years and whose music can still be heard in the woods around the house. My favourite story is a rather sad one. One of the windows on the bottom storey has been boarded up for many, many years. The story goes that the lady of the house was watching her husband ride up the drive towards her, when the horse spooked and threw him, killing him instantly. She could not bear to look out of that window again and ordered it to be boarded over and so it remains to this day. I have to say I never saw a ghost there myself, and always felt the house was a friendly place, rather than a sinister one, but sometimes, late at night the stables would ring with unearthly screeches, like souls in torment. Actually it was nothing more sinister than a colony of screech owls nesting nearby.

The Mansion itself was slowly decaying when I had my horses there, the stables having been sold several years before. Now the stables and Mansion are in the hands of a consortium who have renovated the mansion and use it for functions such as weddings and conferences. At least the house is now restored to its former glory and put to use.

Entrance to the old stable yard

Sadly, last time I visited, I found the elegant, roomy looseboxes changed into holiday apartments. No horses looking over the half doors, no stamping hooves or soft welcoming whinnies.
I closed my eyes and imagined my three horses, now gone over the Rainbow Bridge,
Flikka, Sally and Star, as I often used to see them in the early morning, next to each other with their heads over the doors in that lovely old stable range, overlooking the cobbled yard, reminiscent of days long gone by.

Apologies -  I promised I'd tell you about Merlin's Oak, in Carmarthen. I forgot! I'll tell you next time - It's not exactly a ghost story, but it is interesting - and some of it, at least, is true.

and finally...
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Children of the Mist: https://freeaudiobookcodes.com/book_details.php?BOOK_ID=3339 
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Myths and legends of Wales - Dwynwen

I've decided to make Monday a day for relating legends and stories of my homeland, Wales.

Last week I posted about St David, Wales' Patron Saint. This week, I thought I'd tell you about another Saint, this time a woman, St Dwynwen. I know it's a little late, but she is actually the Welsh equivalent of St Valentine.

                        

January 25th is St Dwynwen's Day - the Welsh Valentine's Day!

There are several legends about St Dwynwen, this is one of the most popular:

Dwynwen was the beautiful daughter of Brychan Brycheiniog. She fell in love with a prince called Maelon Dafodrill, but unfortunately her father had already arranged that she should marry someone else. Dwynwen was so upset that she could not marry Maelon that she begged God to make her forget him. After falling asleep, Dwynwen was visited by an angel, who appeared carrying a sweet potion designed to erase all memory of Maelon and turn him into a block of ice. He then gave three wishes to Dwynwen.
Her first wish was that Maelon be thawed; her second that God meet the hopes and dreams of true lovers; and third, that she should never marry.

Dwynwen became a nun, fulfilling her wish to never marry, and left for the island of Anglesey to build a Church. This is referred to as Llanddwynwen, literally meaning 'Church of Dwynwen'.

Isn't that a romantic (if rather sad) story?

Belated Happy St Dwynwen's Day!

The lighthouse and cross at Llanddwynwen

(Picture courtesy of Wikipaedia)

                                                       

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Y'Keta - Book Tour and #Giveaway

Y'keta

The
Sky Road Trilogy Book 1

by
Sandra Hurst

Genre:
Epic Fantasy

Banished.

Cast out. Powerless. Y’keta is exiled to the small village of Esquialt as his father's punishment for his rebellious spirit.

Village tradition gives him one Cycle, from spring to spring, to earn the right to stay. 


The  villagers have a legend about mighty beings called the Waki'tani,  mythical lords of the wind and lightning who can shapeshift into human form. Y'keta knows the truth behind these stories. Could there  be more to them than just tales shared around the campfire?


If Y'keta reveals what he knows to the villagers, it will tear their history and traditions apart...but sharing his secrets may be their only hope for survival when Esquialt is threatened by the brutal, ferociously destructive Utlaak. 

Loosely based on the Thunderbird of North American legend, Y'keta is an epic

fantasy set in an ancient world where legends walk and the Sky Road

offers a way to the stars. 

*Goodreads
* Amazon

EXCERPT

D’vhan held out a wrinkled hand to the dejected Kit’na. “If you agree to be honest, with yourself and with me, I will count you as one of my warriors.” 

Grasping Y’keta’s wrist, D’vhan pulled with surprising strength, yanking the younger man to his feet and almost tumbling him into the surf. “You have a lot to learn about our ways. It will not be easy to put your pride away and learn as an adult what you should have learned as a child; but if you are willing, I will teach.” 

Y’keta grasped D’vhan's arm, forearm to forearm in the way he’d seen other warriors in the village greet each other. “I promise,” he said, “I will try.” 

The grizzled hand clapped Y’keta on the shoulder and gave him an ungentle shove towards the forest. “Let's get back to work then, young hatchling. Laban and Ren are not far ahead of us.” 

“But didn't you say we would meet up on the beach at sundown?” Y'keta queried. 

“Laban and Ren will head towards the beach for nightfall,” D'vhan agreed, “but if they found anything in the forest, I want to see it before dark.” 

“You sneaky old crow,” Y’keta spluttered. “You planned this just to find out about me!”

 “Exactly,” D’vhan cackled, the beads sparkling in his hair as he laughed. “Be wary of old crows. We are not as quick to fight as you young hawks, but infinitely more devious. 

(D’vhan; Y’keta – The Sky Road Trilogy, Book 1) 

Hi,
my name is Sandra Hurst, the author of the Sky Road fantasy
series.

As a child growing up in England stories and legends surrounded me, I learned how important imagination was. When I was 8, we moved to northern Canada and the legends changed. Stories of the  Fae and the little people were replaced by legends of the Thunderbird  and stories of the woodlands. I never stood a chance. What could I be  but a writer?

Growing  up in Northern Alberta gave me a great love and respect for the wild  lands and indigenous cultures which made its way into the worlds I  create. A  mythmaker at heart, I started writing poetry in middle school and  graduated to epic fantasy.Myths  give us a way to interpret the world past our normal experience. To  ask questions and explore answers in a larger-than-life game of ‘what  if.’ We need to make room for myths and mythmakers in our fact  driven world. To give space for worlds that are brighter and clearer  than our own. For it is in doing so, that we have room to become more  fully human.

My  first book, Y’keta,  is loosely based on the Thunderbird of North American legend, Y'keta is a Young Adult, high fantasy set in an ancient world where legends walk and the Sky Road  offers a way to the stars.

I  now live in Calgary, Alberta with my husband and son, both of whom I love dearly, and have put for sale on e-bay when their behaviour  demanded it. My day to day life is a balance between my outside life  as a paralegal counsellor and my inner life as an author/poet. In  between, I work on courses to improve my writing, learning the Cree  Language, book reviews and blogging on my website, and studying  mythologies from around the world.

*Website
* Facebook
* Twitter * Amazon
* Goodreads

Follow
the tour HERE!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

And now, a short interview with Sandra herself.

 Hi, thank you for the opportunity to talk to you and your readers today!

Where were you born/grew up at? 

I grew up in England, surrounded by old Celtic and Arthurian stories and legends, learning from them how important imagination was. When I was 8, we moved to northern Canada and the legends changed. Stories of the Fae and the little people were replaced by legends of the Thunderbird and stories of the woodlands. I never stood a chance. What could I be but a writer?

I now live in Calgary, Alberta with my husband and son, both of whom I love dearly, and have put up for sale on e-bay when their behaviour demanded it. My day to day life is a balance between my outside life as a paralegal counsellor and my inner life as an author/poet. In between writing projects, I work on improving my craft, study the Cree Language and aboriginal history, write book reviews, try to keep my blog current, and study mythologies from around the world.


 What are some of your pet peeves? 

I’m a fairly patient person, but these are my ‘hot buttons.’ I probably won’t tell you that they are ticking me off, but go far enough and you will see an explosion of biblical proportions:

1. • Drama – People who splash their private issues all over social media
2. • Fake anger – I’ll talk to anyone about anything, but talk to me, don’t just throw Reactionary rhetoric and nasty pictures at each other.
3. • Small talk – I know that the getting to know you stuff has to happen, but let’s get past it. PLEASE.
4. • Electronics – There is nothing as completely rude as pulling out a cell phone or tablet and completely ignoring the people you are with.

If you knew you'd die tomorrow, how would you spend your last day? 

If I knew that the world would end tomorrow I think that I’d want to spend my last day camping. I can’t think of a better way to spend my last hours than with my family beside a campfire, listening to the sounds of the loons in the night.


What made you want to become an author and do you feel it was the right decision? 

When I was little, we had a burgundy set of children’s encyclopaedias and I would pick out stories and poems from them to put on performances in the living room, insisting that my family listen to the stories and legends that I had read. I grew up on the stories of Robin Hood, King Arthur, and the Fae. What else could I ever be?

I write because the words are my way of exploring a world I can’t see. I’m a mythmaker, there is nothing that gives me more creative juice than asking a question and then building a world to find the answer. Myths and fantasy give us the opportunity to look at ourselves in new and often unusual ways, to play a huge game of ‘what if’ and see where the answers will fall.

My mind isn't healthy if I’m not writing, it really isn’t a choice for me.

Thank you  Sandra. I'm a Celt from Wales and was also brought up with a wealth of myths and legends. I also love the Native American legends and your book sounds wonderful and inspiring and I wish you every success with it.

For insider news and subscriber-only info, subscribe to my occasional Newsletter. I promise not to spam and your in-box will only see an email from me every 3 or 4 months or so - unless of course I have something really Newsworthy to share! http://madmimi.com/signups/196357/join