My Characters on Stage!

My Characters on Stage!

Part of me wanted to share all about the ballet of Christmas at Sugar Plum Manor the moment I returned from Colorado at the end of the November…but I decided to share health stuff first. And then I figured I’d save this one for the week before Christmas, because it’s just so festive and fun.

So here we go! The rundown on how awesome and amazing the Colorado Springs trip was!

First…I was excited, y’all. I had an appointment at the hospital in Morgantown the day before we left, to get the staples removed from my head before traveling (ahhhhhhh, relief!), and by the time we left the hospital at noon, I was pretty much skipping my way everywhere I wasn’t dancing. As David said, “That’s when you started vibrating.”

I was excited to see my P&P girls. I was excited to explore a place I’d never been. I was excited that my good friend Karlene, whom I haven’t seen in years, had decided to make the 8-hour drive from Utah to see me and the show. And of course, I was sooooo excited to see my characters come to life!

Thursday, we drove over to my parents’ house around 7 and joined them for the 2.5-hour drive to the airport. We flew out of Dulles in DC, had an uneventful flight to Denver, during which I got the synopsis written for my next novella from Tyndale (you’ll hear more about this in the new year!), which left me feeling great. We had a fairly long layover in Denver before our very-short connection to Colorado Springs (it was cheaper to fly to the Springs than to Denver, otherwise we just would have driven it), which gave us time to enjoy some delicious pizza in a little Italian restaurant in the airport whose staff was fantastic.

Hilariously (or not?) that second flight sat at the gate for an hour while they tried to deal with a weight and balance issue. It was a tiny little plane. And eventually, they had to ask someone to volunteer to take another flight. Or, as we joked, “They actually kicked someone off!” Once we were airborn, it was practically a blink and then we were in the Springs. It was dark and raining by the time we landed, so that 20-minute drive to our rental house was a little not-fun, but then…then we arrived.

So this was our third retreat with the P&P group, in our fourth year. (We had to skip last year’s thanks to cancer.) At the first retreat, there were 5 of us. At the second retreat, there were 12, but not all at the same time–we broke it into half-weeks for those who couldn’t do a full week. I think the most there at once were 9. This time, there were 15 of us (this does count spouses and my parents), by my count at the Saturday night ballet. And from the moment we entered, there was a definite air of celebration.

The house was gorgeous, a historic one with tons of bedrooms, gorgeous old fixtures (clawfoot tub, old kitchen sink…just darling), and so much charm we just couldn’t get over it. (Great job picking it out, Caroline!) I thought, when I walked in, that the owners or management company had already decorated for Christmas, because there was a cute little tree decorated on an end table in the living room, miniature stockings hanging…but no. Candice (the official “in charge of retreat” member of the group) had packed it all in her checked bag! Yep, she brought a Christmas tree with her, with nutcracker ornaments that we all got to bring home, and those stockings? They were for us! Each one had our name on it, and she added stickers and bookmarks and a pocket prayer quilt each night.

Our previous retreats have been “creative retreats,” where we work on our creative projects during the day and then hang out and socialize from dinner onward. We knew that wouldn’t work for this one, so instead it was just three straight days of laughter, sightseeing, exploring, talking, eating, baking, seeing the show, playing games, and just generally having the BEST time. Seriously, I don’t remember the last time I laughed that much.

We went to the US Figure Skating museum on Friday, Zoomed with some of the ladies in the group who couldn’t make the retreat on Friday afternoon, which was SUCH fun too–and we got to meet one of our newest members and put a face and voice to her name, which is always amazing! We set a date for our members-only tea party book club for The Christmas Book Flood too. Friday evening, Cali Hannah made us a fantastic dinner (at this retreat there was Hannah F from California and Hannah A from Texas in the house, plus Hannah Currie from Australia who came to the shows, so we had Cali-Hannah, Texas-Hannah, and Aussie-Hannah there–it was hilarious! Also, those first two Hannahs were my first two P&P members when I started the group!). After dinner, we played Fishbowl, which was HILARIOUS, and then did a white elephant style book exchange.

This gets its own paragraph, because, hello–BOOKS! 😉 We each brought a book to share, wrapped and anonymous. We had sheets printed out to give hints about the book, and since this was a group of friends, Caroline (who organized it) came up with a rating system specific to us. The romance meter was guaged by Bethany, who usually likes only one Disney-style kiss in a book; the violence meter was by Julie, who doesn’t care for such things in her stories. Two little details that just made my day because they spoke to how we’ve become such a family. (My poor mother, who isn’t officially in the group, had no clue what those meant, LOL…) We set a rule of 3-steals-only and a book was locked in, and I am happy to say I got to be a third steal and take my first-choice book, mwa ha ha ha. Though I would have been perfectly content with the one I’d first opened, had someone not stolen it from me. 😉 It was also fun to read the vague descriptions on the books and identify about half of them, which I’d already read and so knew well enough to guess. It was also rewarding that the books I brought–I totally cheated and brought two, The Lost Girl of Astor Street and The Secret Investigator of Astor Street with their new, matching illustrated covers, by my best friend, Stephanie Morrill–were also stolen the maximum number of times.

Also on Friday, the fantabulous Candice surprised me with sugar cookies decorated to match the book! (Purchased, LOL. We made many cookies while there–well, Deanna made many cookies while there, LOL–but these specialty ones were purchased by a local baker. See the photo carousel for pictures! And they were as delicious as they were gorgeous!)

Saturday morning a bunch of us went to Garden of the Gods. My group was the “can’t do to much or we’ll pay for it later” group, so we picked and chose where we explored, and it was breathtaking! We ended up at one point just settling on some rocks with an amazing view of Pike’s Peak and lots of birds to watch and just fell into chatting again. We saw two horse tours go by, so that was fun too. Then back to the house in time for lunch, because the first show was at 2:00, and I intended to be there!

So…socially awkward author here. I’m great at being “on” when it’s for a purpose, and as long as I was standing there signing books, I knew my place, LOL. But once all the books were signed, I had a few minutes of “Okay, I’m just gonna stand here at the table and blend in with the concession workers, I guess…” But I needn’t have worried. The families of the dancers soon picked up on the fact that I was there, and there were folks who came JUST to see/meet me, so that was such fun. I personalized some books, took some photos with readers, and then my husband ushered my vibrating-with-joy self into the auditorium and we found our seats.

The show…THE SHOW. It was simply AMAZING. That first time, I watched with curiosity, constantly asking myself, “Now how are they going to handle this bit?” And then watching their choices and going, “Ah! Perfect!” (I mean, obviously there was no frozen river for Mariah to fall into, and they had to make plenty of choices about what to leave out versus keep. But I 100% approve ALL those choices!)

Mimi McKinnis did the adaptation, and she did it brilliantly. (THANK YOU, MIMI!!!) The performers were so much more than I’d envisioned–not just dancing, which they did so well, but acting. The leads were all so expressive, their faces perfectly portraying the emotional journey for each character. I love how they showed backstory, especially with the story of how young Mariah and young Cyril wrote the story the cast later performs…the story that we know as the Nutcracker. And so when familiar Nutcracker music began to play? I got a completely idiotic grin on my face and just couldn’t shake it.

Also…SO MUCH PURPLE! Obviously, this purple-loving girl was thrilled to see all the purple lights, the purple costuming Mariah wore, and so much more.

During intermission and after the show, I was out at the table again, signing and personalizing books. I met more readers, more families of dancers, and after that first show, some of the dancers themselves.

And here’s the funny thing. For me, it was both humbling and ecstatic to see my characters live and breathe, so to my mind they were the stars. They were the people giving the gift–to the audience and to me. I was a little starstruck to see Mariah and Louise, Fred and Professor Skylark, Cyril and Soren all right there in front of me, living and breathing and smiling, in gorgeous costumes. To my mind, they weren’t just student performers. They were something more. They were dreams come true.

Of course, to them, I was the author who brought this fun story to them to begin with, and they approached me with wide eyes and bouncing excitement, asking me to sign their books, take pictures with them, and give them hugs. And it struck me, then–how there’s never just individual creating. It’s co-creating. We create first with our creative Father, the Creator of the universe. And then we create with those around us. As an author, I create with my editors, my cover designers, my marketing team–and my readers. As dancers, they create with their bodies but also their fellow cast, their director, their choreographers. We created something together, something bigger than what any one of us could create on our own. And it was beautiful. So, so beautiful.

I stayed there between the two shows, since there was only about an hour to kill, and then my people all showed up, so more giddiness ensued. The performance was just as fantastic, and afterward we got a group picture for P&P.

It was also after that second show on Saturday that one of my favorite moments happened. Jackson (who played Cyril), Anna (who played Mariah), and Lacy (who played Professor Skylark) came over to meet me, and Jackson pitched me a sequel. Hannah Currie was there and caught a photo of it (also in the image carousel below!), which I absolutely LOVE. On Sunday, before that final show, we got a group shot with the whole cast and me, and after that, Jonah (who plays Fred) and Jackson told me a bit more about their idea, and it just made my day. My weekend.

I made a thing that got these kids so excited, they wanted more. I wrote a story that captured their imaginations. I gave them a plot for a show they so enjoyed, they wanted to do it again, see what happened next. For this creator’s heart, that’s just…amazing. It shows me, yet again, that it’s bigger than me. It shows me the power of story, and how I’m just one participant in it.

It shows me why it’s worth it. Why it matters. Why it’s important. After one of the shows, another of the dancers, Ellie, found me to reiterate exactly this, which brought tears to my eyes. That my story matters. My writing changes lives. 

Before each big scene, there was a voice-over narration that told a bit about the story we were about to see unfold through dance, and in the second act, most of the lines were taken straight from the book. And guys, tears filled my eyes again as I heard my words over the speaker-system. As that narrator’s voice spoke about choosing to embody joy, choosing to cling to the miraculous, choosing not just to plod through life doing the expected, but to live, to live with cheer and happiness and delight, my heart just overflowed with exactly that. Because this ballet did exactly what the whole point of the story was–it brought people together and gave them a reason to celebrate.

At the end of the show, it’s Christmas music they’re dancing to, and the audience was invited to sing along to “O Come, Let Us Adore Him.” Such a wonderful final call to leave us with–the whole point of the season. The whole point of everything.

There were readers who came to every show just to see me, and to you–thank you. It was so, so wonderful to meet you all, to sign your books, to give you hugs and take photos with you.

To Mimi and the entire cast of the show, you have made my year. My decade! I will never, ever forget the joy of sitting in your audience and seeing our story come to life. Anna, Mariah will always have your face in my mind from now on, and we’re still talking about how you conveyed so much with your eyes. Jackson, you were an even better (and taller!) Cyril than I had imagined, and I loved watching you bring so much humor to the role. Corban, you played an awesome Danish lord with the gravity that suited him…and then the discovery of joy that made him into a hero too. Lacy, your crazy and expressive Skylark was a brilliant adaptation of my slightly-nutty old man, and you lit up the stage each time you stepped onto it. Lauren, I know it was against your happy nature to keep from smiling so long as you played my grieving Louise, but when you finally could let that smile shine, it moved my heart and was such a moment of victory! Jonah, when Fred hoisted that key high and then jumped into the toy line…I still laugh when I imagine it. Jessica, you are SO much nicer than Pearl, who you played so very well, and I love the guys’ idea to give you a redemption story! 😉 Also, all those pearl accents on your costume were just genius. Natalie and Dustin, when you brought the backstory to life, it was sheer delight! Ella, Rachel, Megan, Olivia, Ellie, Evie, Adeline, and Catie…all those Nutcracker callbacks, the mice and Mouse Queen numbers, the flowers and dewdrops and Sugar Plum Fairy and Nutcracker prince…more moments when I was grinning like an idiot.

I realize I’m writing a book here, because words can’t quite express how awesome it was, so naturally I have to pile more and more on to try to convey it. 😉

After the final show on Sunday, my friend Karlene came back to the house with us. A couple of the girls had already left, so she ended up crashing there for the night, thanks to snow in the passes on her drive home. Which was lovely. We ended up having a hair-braiding party in the kitchen (which was hilarious too). We told final stories. We exchanged final hugs. I had one final night of not-sleeping (I could NOT turn my brain off the whole time I was there–I was like a 5-year-old at Christmas for 5 days straight!), and then it was off to the airport ridiculously early, and my euphoria finally, finally began to settle down into contentment.

I knew I’d crash when I got home. Seriously, I was running on pure adrenaline, barely sleeping, from Thursday through Monday, I was darting around, I was talking a mile a minute, I was running up aisles and down stairs, I was making a whole lot of jazz hands in an effort to show my enthusiasm, and “vibrating for days,” as David said. It took me a solid week for this introvert to recover, LOL.

And as my mama wrapped her arms around me Sunday morning in the still-dark kitchen of that so-charming rental house as we waited for the men to come downstairs, she said, “It was so good to see you with your friends. So good to see your joy.

And that’s what it was. A weekend of friendship. A weekend of euphoria. A weekend of giddiness. A weekend of laughter. A weekend of discovery.

It was a weekend of joy. Pure joy. And that is so fitting…because that’s what Christmas at Sugar Plum Manor was all about.

And good news! 😉 You can purchase the recording of the show and see for yourself what a fantastically amazing job Fidele Youth Dance Company did in bringing it to life!

Strange Timing

Strange Timing

Sometimes, God’s timing just leaves me astounded. Even when it’s something that, to most, would seem small. I had one of those moments in my writing world just after getting that call about the lesion on my brain, and I wanted to take a few minutes to tell you about it. To tell about how God provided exactly the outlet I needed…and more besides.

Princess Iraja from Amazed
Awakened Book 3

Allow me to introduce Iraja. If you’ve read Awakened, then at the end you may recall a baby named Bleu. Well, 150-some-odd years in the future (keeping in mind that my magically Awakened people in this series are very long-lived), Iraja is Bleu’s wife of 34 years. (If you have not read Awakened, the point of this introduction has nothing to do with that story world and everything to do with my life. Bear with me, LOL.)

Several weeks ago, as I was diving into book 3 of this fantasy world, Amazed, I was debating which points-of-view I wanted to include. I knew that obviously I would have my heroine, Aziza. I knew I would have the king of Ellas, Stefanos. I knew I would have her hometown would-be sweetheart, Galenos. And I knew I needed one more, a POV to represent another part of the world. I’d already decided Prince Bleu and Iraja would be in Ellas during the story.

I’d also already decided that Iraja was dying. Oh, I created a fictional, fantasy disease for the purpose, linked to the oddities of this world. Nothing real. But it was fatal. It had to be, for the purposes of my plot. This isn’t a spoiler—they know it when the story starts, know she has only months left to live. So I was debating which of them would be the more poignant POV—the one about to lose her life or the one about to lose his wife.

I shared the debate with my husband and my P&P ladies, and ultimately I decided to go with Iraja’s perspective, largely because that kept a balance of two male and two female POVs in the book. Happy with that, I started the story.

Prince Bleu from Amazed
Awakened Book 3

Then came that phone call you’ve all heard about by now. The one that said I might have Stage 4 cancer. For weeks, I sat in a place of not-knowing. First, I didn’t even know if I was riddled with the stuff again. They thought it likely it was in my lymph nodes. It could have been in my bones. It could have been everywhere. (It’s not, but I didn’t know that yet.) As David and I drove home from that oncology appointment, where my doctor talked to me about palliative care, assuming this was what the tests would reveal to be necessary, I said, a bit stunned, “This could be the thing I’m going to die of.” And I wrestled with the reality that is always true but just became more true. My days are numbered. They always are, yes, but then I felt it.

And this was when I opened up my document and realized that the next chapter would be Iraja’s first POV. And friends, though I am not a crier and certainly not when working, tears stung my eyes. For one moment, just one, I hesitated. Did I really want to write this now? This? A woman struggling with her own mortality and how to say goodbye to her family?

Then I realized that, yes, I did. More—I had to. I realized that, first, when I decided a week before to make her my fourth POV character, God had nudged me toward an outlet. A way to work through and express my thoughts, my feelings. My fears and dreams. To wrestle with what I might leave undone and what I desperately wanted to do. To remind myself that even now, He should be praised. Even now, especially now, I need to embody love above all, as Iraja does. And I also realized, even after those tests proved that whatever is going on, I do not have cancer all through my body and am probably not dying any more quickly than usual (LOL), that He provided a way for me to have an insight into this woman that I otherwise would not have had. Which seems trivial. Silly.

But it’s not, not to me. It’s critical. Crucial. Because I know very well that there will be readers facing down their own struggles, their own life-altering diagnoses when they pick up this book in the future and think to escape their own world into one completely fabricated. And I want to give them a point of connection…and hope. I want to help them fasten their eyes on the Lord, as writing it helped me to do.

I was hesitant to mention this coincidence of timing to David—because while I was at peace with all this, it was harder for him. Which, again, reminded me of Iraja and Bleu and how I’d already decided they would be. Iraja, who had always known her Awakened husband would outlive her, who would stay young while she grew old; who had wanted decades more with him but trusts that even this is part of God’s plan for her life.

And Bleu, who is breaking. Bleu, who loves her so deeply and can’t imagine what life is going to look like without her. Bleu, who knows he likely has centuries left to live, and they look like a barren wasteland spreading before him without the woman he loves.

Over the last few weeks, there have been so many times when my precious husband pulled me close, rested his head against mine, and said, “You have to be okay. I can’t do this without you.” In those early days, all I could do was hold him. All I could do was promise, “If it’s Stage 4 cancer, then I’ll just set some records, right? On how long I can survive on these meds. I’m not giving up, honey. I’ll fight. I intend to have years and years left. We’ll get to our fiftieth.” And he’d bargain, “Seventieth. No—seventy more. We’re both going to live to be over a hundred.”

Over the last few weeks, every time I open up that document on my computer, I’m amazed (ha! Title of the book…) anew at how even this, this small, tiny, inconsequential thing, was planned so perfectly by the Father. Even this, He helped me set up in advance so that my heart would be more peaceful and my story richer.

Every time I write Iraja into a scene, whether it’s her POV or someone else’s, I see this woman choosing life even as she’s dying, choosing love even as she’s spending her last months on enemy soil, choosing faith even as her dreams are cut short…and I realize that’s who I want to be, whether I have a year or a decade or a century left to live. I want to be the person who embraces her enemy and sees in him a friend—and so, makes him one. I want to be the person who cries her tears and then fastens on her smile. I want to be the person who will change the tides of a story—not by sheer brute force, like her magical husband can do with the literal tides in this fantasy world. But by the power of her love.

So here’s Iraja. A princess-by-marriage in a fantasy kingdom, so very much unlike you and me in our real, humble world. But also very much like us—a child of the King of kings. Beloved of the Father. Chosen by our family. A woman who makes a difference not with power but with acceptance, with love, with a determination to see in others what God sees in them. Iraja is who I want to be.

Here’s Iraja, whose perspective helped me understand my own, as I stared one possible end in the eyes. 

I pray that, someday, when you read her POV, she’ll minister to you as she did to me. And you’ll remember that even in the small, tiny, inconsequential things, God’s hand is always at work.

Cover Reveal of Aflame

Cover Reveal of Aflame

It’s Time!

For Another Cover Reveal!!

I know, I know, we just had one of these two weeks ago. But who’s really going to complain about another peek at a new cover?? I know I wouldn’t!

And I’m so excited to share more about the second book in my romantasy series. Aflame is set 150 years after Awakened, but don’t worry—Arden and Seidon are still alive and well and recognized the world over as the best-ever “power couple.” 😉

And something EXTRA fun for you…if you pre-order from my site, you’ll get an insta-download of the first chapter of Aflame! You also have the option of ebook, regular paperback, or printed-edge paperback. (Be sure you’re logged in when you order…that’s the only way the site knows who you are, to provide that download.)

Let’s meet…

Valkyrja (Kyrja)

Kyrja (pronounced keer-yuh or keer-ee-uh) is the youngest daughter of King Isidor of Fjordlandi. The extra daughter. Not the heir, not the spare. She is, as her older sister likes to say, “pretty but useless,” with a magic so much weaker than the rest of her family that it’s laughable. She can never best her siblings in their regular sparring … because why? She’d rather use her power over snow and ice to make the people smile with her crystal artwork and volunteer at the free clinic and numb children’s arms before their inoculations. But when tragedy strikes and Kyrja finds herself thrust into more responsibility than she ever wanted, she has to step up…and in doing so, learns how deep the corruption in Fjordlandi runs. But what can she, pretty and useless, do about it?

A rebel only when it comes to learning the holy Words…

Nikanor (Nik)

In Fjordlandi, the magical Blessed rule, the Fjorders are the aristocratic class with all the power, and the common people, the farmers—called thanes—are, well, nothing. Nothing but breeding stock. Nik has always wanted more than he’s been allotted as a thane, not in terms of land or things, but education. With the help of a local clergyman, he’s educated himself in hiding, studying the law and the holy Words of the Giver. But when his father, leader of a rebel group, summons him to the capital city, Nik has no idea that his life is on a collision course with Princess Valkyrja’s—nor that there are secrets kept within the country’s largest volcano that will threaten to burn all of Fjordlandi to the ground.

From within the volcano…

Daemon

For years uncountable, Daemon has lived in Fjordlandi’s biggest, ever-active volcano, sentenced here for rebellion. But when he was tossed into Helviti’s throat, he didn’t burn up. He…turned. Turned into something the world had never seen before, into a creature of fire and lava, able to summon those magma flows with his will. Daemon, the old king had hissed at him–the dark answer to the Blessed, dubbed the Cursed. So Daemon the Cursed he will be. And though he has quietly kept the volcano in his fist these many years, helped along with the others like him that have been tossed into the lava lake from time to time, something has changed. Something new is happening Above. And Daemon isn’t going to let it pass him by.

An evocative setting

Fjordlandi

In a post-cataclysmic Earth many thousands of years in the future, technology and gift from God have combined to create power over the elements that is called “magic.” In what used to be Scandinavia, this magic is specifically geared toward snow and ice, and Fjordlandi is known as the land of the ice wielders. With cities open to the elements, the aristocratic Fjorders have become immune to the cold, and emotion is considered a weakness that will melt one’s protective ice…but in the sheltered greenhouse domes where the thanes live, blood still runs hot–and so does a festering revolution. For centuries, the thanes have been crushed under the ice-cold boot of the magically Blessed. But the time has come for them to set their whole land Aflame.

Roseanna’s next

Fantasy Romance

In a world of fire and ice, an underestimated princess, a faith-filled commoner, and an unknown power burning with resentment must join forces to bring long-awaited justice to Fjordlandi—a kingdom too long held captive to the ice, ready to be set Aflame.

 

Ready? Here it is!
The cover of Aflame!

What do you think??

I LOVE how this turned out! The beautiful drawing of Kyrja comes to us courtesy of the amazing Caroline Smith of Caroline Calligraphie (one of my P&P ladies). I added a background with the fire/lava elements (because, um, only having snow on the cover of a book called Aflame might be confusing, LOL), combined it with some rising sparks, I did a dual Awakening mark this time so we can see both the marks of the Blessed and the Cursed (uneven simply so there’s no weird line, they shift behind her), and then of course had the title in a fun gild to coordinate with Awakened.

AND…this one will also have printed edges!! (You have the option to pre-order with or without them, since I have a few readers who prefer to put their own art on the edges.) Here’s a peek at what those will look like!

The Official Description

In a land of fire and ice, love is considered a weakness.

Princess Valkyrja has always been deemed “pretty and useless” by her family, who rule the kingdom of Fjordlandi. Though she has the same magical Blessing over ice and snow as her brother, sister, and father, she can never seem to use it for the brute-force ruling they require, choosing instead to make art that makes her people smile. But when a horrific attack shakes their whole world, she has to step up…and find a strength she didn’t know she had.

Nikanor has lived his life under the greenhouse domes, a commoner with no opportunities to do things he most desires—to study the Words or the law, to be something other than a farmer. When he and his best friend follow his father to the capital, he hopes only for a nice holiday. Instead, the attack throws him into the path of a princess, and his world is never the same.

But the Blessed aren’t the only ones with magic in Fjordlandi. There are others already Awakened in the volcano, those called the Cursed, with lava in their veins and rebellion in their hearts. And once the fires of revolution ignite, they won’t stop until all of Fjordlandi is Aflame.

It’s Release Day! The Christmas Book Flood

It’s Release Day! The Christmas Book Flood

Welcome to the Launch Day Celebration
for The Christmas Book Flood!

It’s been a long time since I’ve had a story only coming out in digital formats–and the first time that those digital formats include both eBook and audio. This was my first of two contracted novellas for Tyndale, and can I just say that this is also the first time I got to write a Christmas story during the Christmas season??? That was pretty sweet! I finished this last January, sitting on the couch beside my Christmas tree. Ahhhh.

So what is The Christmas Book Flood about? It’s a friends-to-more historical romance set in Iceland of 1944…the year the Jolabokflod tradition began! I go not only inside this Allied-occupied island nation (this Scandinavian country was occupied by the Allies instead of the Nazis!), but into a (fictional) publishing house as they’re putting the very first Book Flood together. Both my heroine, Tatiana, and my hero, Anders, work for this publishing house and are in a frenzy to get the mountain of orders out on time…made all the more hectic because Tatiana is hosting her niece for Christmas this year, and she’s determined to bring joy to the heart of this precious girl who is devastated to be away from home.

Turns out Icelandic Christmas traditions are very unique too! Scroll down to get a peek at the differences you’ll encounter in this story!

Live DUAL Event!

I ended up cancelling my live event for The Collector of Burned Books due to travel, surgery, and then a month-long migraine that didn’t go away until I was again out of town for vacation…so tonight we’ll have a BIG celebration for BOTH The Collector of Burned Books and The Christmas Book Flood! Though these two books are both standalones, they are thematically linked by books (deliberate choice, yes!), and I think we’ll have fun talking about them both.

So join me for a Facebook Live video tonight, Tuesday October 7, at 7 pm Eastern! (You can watch it afterward too, and I’ll try to answer any questions in the comments!)

  • Behind the scenes of both books
  • Fun facts
  • What’s coming next

The Christmas Book Flood focuses on Tatiana and Anders

First, a quick note on Icelandic names.

Iceland still maintains the ancient Viking naming tradition, which is that each individual’s surname is their father’s name with a suffix. Girls get name + dottir (daughter) and men get name + son. So while two sisters would have the same surname and two brothers would as well, a brother and sister would actually have different surnames (different suffixes, anyway), and they do NOT have the same last name as their own parents!

Because of this, unlike with most other countries, they don’t call each other by any sort of honorific (Mr. or Miss) most of the time. They just use first names. =)

So let’s meet my heroine and hero!

First we have Tatiana. Tatiana moved from her fishing village several years ago to work for her uncle in Iceland’s capital city of Reykjavik at a publishing company called The Story Society (based on a mashup of actual Iceland publisher names–isn’t that fun?). Though she’s just her uncle’s secretary officially, she has a secret no one at the company knows. That she’s also the author of one of the books the Story Society has just released, written under a male pen name. And her editor, the man who’s become such a good friend through their shared correspondence over the many months of edits, is none other than the Story Society’s star–Anders.

Anders is an editor for the company, yes, but he’s also an acclaimed writer and artist, publishing a series of books for children that retell the traditional Icelandic sagas in a way that’s appropriate for young readers. Though he’s lived all his life in Reykjavik, Anders is from a family of fishermen who don’t quite know what to make of his scholarly self. He’s always felt like a disappointment to his family, like the odd duck that baffles and infuriates them, especially his many strapping brothers, who so embody the paradigm of Nordic heroes that Anders is always left feeling like an unhero in comparison. But at the Story Society, he has found his people. And maybe, just maybe he can finally find a way to get the attention of the publisher’s beautiful niece.

~*~

Tatiana is eager to welcome her niece, Elea, to the city for the weeks leading up to Christmas, while her sister is on bed-rest in the final weeks of a much-longed-for pregnancy and her brother-in-law is recuperating from a U-boat attack on his fishing vessel. But the Book Bulletin that all of Iceland’s publishers have worked together to put out–a catalogue that has gone out to every household in Iceland, promoting books as Christmas gifts this year, since paper is one of the few things not rationed–has been a little too successful. How is she supposed to find the time to do her job and give Elea the Christmas she deserves?

Turns out, it’s going to take some teamwork, on both counts. And maybe a little Christmas miracle…

Icelandic Christmas Traditions!

There are so many fun traditions unique to Iceland, and I had a ton of fun diving into them is this story!

For starters, instead of Santa Claus, they have the Yule Lads–13 brothers who are a sort of ogre-elf, who each trek down from their mountain home in the days leading up to Christmas, to leave gifts in children’s shoes in exchange for goodies like yogurt, cookies, candles, and meat. Elea arrives in the city frustrated that her aunt actually expects her to play along with this childish tradition, but through the Yule Lads, they bring some joy back into the season.

And something you might not know…Iceland doesn’t have many trees and NO native pines. So Christmas trees? Nope! Not traditionally a part of their festivities…or at least, not like you might think. They certainly weren’t immune to the allure, but since real trees weren’t to be had, they used their well-established ingenuity and craftsmanship to make their own. But not like the artificial trees we would recognize. No, they used things like metal hangers and dowel rods to create a “tree” with branches, draped them with juniper or other evergreens, and decorated them. By 1944, some pine trees were being imported for Christmas, but it was considered a luxury.

What’s your traditional dinner for Christmas? In Iceland, their big meal is shared on Christmas Eve, and gifts are exchanged afterward. Families will then attend Midnight Mass (the country is officially Lutheran) to welcome the arrival of our Savior. But that meal? Not turkey or ham! Those aren’t readily available in Iceland either. No, their traditional meal is skate. Various kinds of fish and lamb are their main meats.

They still love cookies though! Sugar and flour were both rationed during the war, of course, but families would save up their stores to make a few special things, including cookies and leaf bread–a thin-rolled dough cut in decorative designs and then deep-fried in fat (usually sheep fat at this period).

And of course…The Christmas Book Flood!

My favorite Icelandic Christmas tradition, though, is the one whose origin I’m writing about in this story. Jolabokflod has taken the book world by storm in recent years, so it’s quite likely you’ve seen something about it.

In short, it’s the tradition of giving books as Christmas gifts (again, opened on Christmas Eve after dinner) and then staying up until you leave for church reading your book and drinking hot chocolate. I mean…COME ON. Best. Tradition. Ever!

Of course, when it began in 1944, that hot chocolate was unlikely–chocolate and sugar were both seriously rationed. But I do approve of the addition. 😉 Paper, however, was not rationed, which meant that books were a logical and affordable choice of gift during the war. 

And they were well received! Iceland, even today, boasts more readers per capita than any other country, putting Americans to shame. Which is no surprise, because they’ve long been known as “a storytelling people.” Families will tell each other stories over dinner and in the evenings, often about their day (but told as a complete tale with beginning, middle, and end), but also the old sagas of the Viking heroes, often with tragic ends. (I read some of these as research, guys, and oh my gracious, LOL. Definitely that sort of story that always ends in death to everyone, hence why Anders has to make them kid-friendly. And Odin makes frequent cameos!)

What a splendid gift to books and book lovers! With her customarily reverent research, Roseanna M. White weaves a tale destined to reach deep into the hearts of word-lovers everywhere. Igniting a passion for the power of the written word, White shines a spotlight on an oft-overlooked snapshot of history and blazons a light on a little-known tradition with her confident and binge-worthy prose. White’s in-depth characterization and deft exploration of family dynamics are underscored by a spotlight highlighting a unique community easily transporting readers to an island of perseverance…and books. Destined to find its way onto every “keeper shelf” The Christmas Book Flood will be revisited by readers every Christmas…time and time again.

Rachel McMillan

bestselling author of The Mozart Code

Giveaway

US entrants, enter to win bookish Christmas ornaments and few (unshown) stocking stuffer style goodies,
PLUS a gift-wrapped book of your choice from my shop for you to give to a loved one this Christmas, signed to them!
(Yes, this can totally be a gift to you, signed to you, LOL. Put it under your own tree. I won’t judge.)

International entrants, enter to win a copy of any of my books, shipped from your usual online retailer.

(If the above entry form is not working, check it out here.

Cover Reveal of Aflame

Cover Reveal of The Spy Keeper of Marseille

It’s Time!

For Another Cover Reveal!!

It’s no secret. Cover reveals are some of my favorite things. And the whole cover design process is a delight to me. (Yeah, I know. I’m a cover designer. This is to be expected, LOL.) 

And one thing I’m loving about working with Tyndale is that they often give me options. As in, they send two covers, with their favorite noted and why, but make it clear if I prefer the other, my opinion counts. That’s lovely.

As with The Collector of Burned Books, I absolutely agreed with their favorite, though in this case, I requested some minor changes to the lighting of the sky, which they quickly did. Now–chef’s kiss! I love it!

But of course, before I share, let me share with you a bit about the book and characters. =D

A woman unlike any other in France…

Zelie Bellarose

Zelie (pronounced zee-lee) is not what anyone would expect. As the wife of a late military officer and mother of two young children, everyone thinks she ought to be spending the war waiting in lines for food and tending her children. But Zelie, with her sharp mind and penchant for organization, isn’t ready to give up the fight after the Nazi invasion. She wants to give her children a France worth growing up in, so she’s been working with another military officer on building France’s largest intelligence network, Alliance.

She never expected to be put in charge of it. But when her superior is arrested, it falls to Zelie to keep Alliance running…and make sure that, at all costs, they keep Britain’s MI6 fed with information.

More than just another musician…

Marcel Laurent

Though a concert pianist at the pinnacle of his career before the war, Marcel couldn’t let his brother and cousins have all the glory. He’d enlisted, joining France’s forces at the Maginot Line…only to end up a POW for over a year. Now Marcel finds himsef released on a prisoner exchange, apparently at the behest of a wealthy industrialist with ties with the fledgling Resistance, brought back to France for one purpose–to be Alliance’s liaison to the arts sector. As the leader of a new youth orchestra, Marcel is able to travel through both free and occupies zones and even send out live messages on their weekly radio program.

He’s happy to do whatever he can for his country. Especially if it means bringing a smile to the lovely face of la patronne–a woman he knows is out of his league, but to whom he’s inexplicably drawn.

An evocative setting

Marseille, 1941

This beautiful Mediterranean city on France’s southern coast was technically in the dubiously-dubbed “Free France,” supposedly outside the Nazis’ control…but that didn’t keep Nazi soldiers and agents from roaming freely to oversee all the French officials and track down the Resistance proving to be a thorn in their side.

Both Marcel’s and Zelie’s families are from the region, so it’s a natural place for Zelie to set up operations; Marseille is the most diverse city in France thanks to its once-bustling seaport, now closed because of the war. Surrounded by rich farmlands and the famed flower fields of Provence, the city still has much to offer…and Alliance is determined to take advantage of it/

Roseanna’s next

World War II Romance

This high-stakes, fast-paced story is based on the real-life adventures of Marie-Madeleine Fourcade, the historical female head of Alliance, France’s largest intelligence network during the war. Her many escapades and close scrapes provided ample inspiration for my fictional Zelie, and Marcel, too, is a mash-up of several historical figures!

Ready? Here it is!
The cover of The Spy Keeper of Marseille!

What do you think??

I LOVE this cover! The gorgeous villa along the coast of the Med, the colors, the back view of Zelie, briefcase in hand yet stylish pumps and hat on…this fits the story and character to a T! In the story, they use a couple different villas as their base of operations, donated to the cause by the families who owned them for Alliance’s use. Airdrops were also an important part of the network’s work, so having the planes up there is perfect too.

The Official Description

Few would suspect a young widow and mother of two small children of being a spy.
Fewer still would believe she leads the largest intelligence operation in France.

Marseille, France, 1941. Zelie Bellerose never fit the mold of an army officer’s wife. She was too passionate in her convictions, too indifferent to societal expectations. After her husband is killed in the war, Zelie focuses on securing a brighter future for her children, hoping to help free her country from the Nazi regime by joining the Resistance. She is soon one of the most trusted operatives in Alliance, and when their leader is imprisoned, she takes command, hiding her identity from all but a few. With enemies closing in, Zelie must earn the trust of her network and prove herself to those who doubt a woman’s place at the helm of the France’s largest spy ring.

Marcel Laurent was a renowned concert pianist before joining the French army and being sent to a POW camp. Freed in a prisoner exchange by a wealthy businessman with ties to the Resistance, Marcel agrees to spy for Alliance by conducting a youth orchestra, gathering intelligence from patrons who are loose-lipped Nazi sympathizers. Marcel’s weekly radio broadcasts introducing the orchestra’s performances give him the perfect cover to send coded messages over the airwaves.

As Zelie and Marcel grow closer through their shared love of music, she begins to rely on him. But betrayal from within Alliance puts everything they’ve fought for at risk. When a double agent infiltrates their ranks and the two are captured, their bond faces its greatest test . . . and any misstep could jeopardize not only Alliance but the very outcome of the war.

It’s Release Day! The Collector of Burned Books

It’s Release Day! The Collector of Burned Books

Welcome to the Launch Day Celebration
for The Collector of Burned Books!

I’ve written a lot of historical romances at this point. Many of them were set during the Great War. One, Yesterday’s Tides, was both WWI and WW2. And as I was writing that one, despite having once said, “World War 2 is way too modern for me, thank you very much, I don’t think I’ll ever write anything set later than the 1920s,” I found I really enjoyed that 1940s line. And in typical me fashion, the more I researched for it, the more story ideas I began to have.

And so, today I am SO EXCITED to welcome my first solely 1940s book into the world! The Collector of Burned Books is set from June 1940 – January 1941 (with an epilogue that’s later), and GUYS…I love this book so much.

It’s partly the Parisian setting.

It’s partly the fact that it is ALL about libraries and books and how freedom of thought is intrinsically linked to freedom.

It’s partly the love story.

It’s partly the path this book has taken me on. If you read my post last week on “The Dangers of Dehumanizing,” then you know that this book led me to a new publisher, and while I loved my decade with Bethany House, my experience thus far with Tyndale has been AMAZING too.

And mostly…it’s just this story. A story I love so much. A story that made me ask hard questions. A story that let me write a love letter to the education I enjoyed in my college days, all about dialectic and free-thinking. A story that is far more apropos than I’d thought it would be. A story that is resonating so much with early readers, which just makes me all warm and grateful.

What Early Readers Are Saying

Publishers Weekly

Propulsively plotted and richly detailed, the narrative depicts how dangerous it can be under fascism to entertain ideas deemed “different”—and how deeply necessary. The result is a captivating historical romance and a resonant ode to the power of literature in dark times.

Starred review from booklist

Brilliantly written . . . [The Collector of Burned Books] captures the volatile intersection of art, academia, and authoritarian control, with the spark of unexpected romance bringing warmth to an unforgettable novel.

Live Event…Eventually. 😉

This week I’m at a writer’s conference with questionable wifi…and next week I’m having surgery. So we’re scheduling the Facebook Live video TWO WEEKS from now on Tuesday, July 29, at 7 pm Eastern! (You can watch it afterward too, and I’ll try to answer any questions in the comments!)

  • Behind the scenes
  • Fun facts
  • Short author reading
  • What’s coming next

Mark your calendars!!!

Courage, honor, and sacrifice born of great love overflow the pages of The Collector of Burned Books Rarely have I read a book with such perfect tension.  Meticulously researched, intellectually and spiritually stimulating, compelling and beautifully written, Roseanna White has written a book I could not put down, one I will not forget.

Cathy Gohlke

Christy Award Hall of Fame author

About The Collector of Burned Books

In this gripping World War II historical about the power of words, two people form an unlikely friendship amid the Nazi occupation in Paris and fight to preserve the truth that enemies of freedom long to destroy.

Paris, 1940. Ever since the Nazi Party began burning books, German writers exiled for their opinions or heritage have been taking up residence in Paris. There they opened a library meant to celebrate the freedom of ideas and gathered every book on the banned list . . . and even incognito versions of the forbidden books that were smuggled back into Germany.

For the last six years, Corinne Bastien has been reading those books and making that library a second home. But when the German army takes possession of Paris, she loses access to the library and all the secrets she’d hidden there. Secrets the Allies will need if they have any hope of liberating the city she calls home.

Christian Bauer may be German, but he never wanted anything to do with the Nazi Party―he is a professor, one who’s done his best to protect his family as well as the books that were a threat to Nazi ideals. But when Goebbels sends him to Paris to handle the “relocation” of France’s libraries, he’s forced into an army uniform and given a rank he doesn’t want. In Paris, he tries to protect whoever and whatever he can from the madness of the Party and preserve the ideas that Germans will need again when that madness is over, and maybe find a lost piece of his heart.

With her signature blend of page-turning storytelling, fascinating historical details, and enduring themes, Roseanna M. White draws readers into the dark days after Paris falls to Nazi occupation. Corinne and Christian shine in their undaunted determination to preserve books threatened by a regime that seeks to extinguish truth. The Collector of Burned Books is a stirring and inspiring tribute to the powerful bond between literature and freedom.

Amanda Barratt

Christy Award-winning author of The Warsaw Sisters and Within These Walls of Sorrow

A Book MADE for Book Clubs!

And I’ve got a Book Club Kit to prove it! 😉 In this kit you’ll find:

  • About the author
  • Letter from me, just for book clubs
  • Q&A with me, with answers to some of the most common questions about this book
  • Recipe for a classic French baguette
  • Discussion questions
  • Burned Books reading list
  • Article, “Who Are We Canceling?”
  • Meet the characters
  • A designed page for notes and questions

Interested in having me Zoom with your book club?
I’m always happy to join you! Just email me at roseannamwhite@gmail.com to set up a date!

The Collector of Burned Books is a heart-pounding historical that kept me riveted from beginning to end. Roseanna White, a brilliant storyteller, weaves together a gripping plot about the many dangers of distributing prohibited books during the Nazi regime. As her cast of heroic characters secretly fight for freedom, they risk their lives to spread the truth and protect those they love. The Collector of Burned Books should be read by every lover of a life-changing book!

Melanie Dobson

award-winning author of Chateau of Secrets and The Curator’s Daughter

Giveaway

US entrants, enter to win a signed copy of The Collector of Burned Books
(or another book of your choice) + a $25 gift card to my shop!

International entrants, enter to win a copy of the book sent from your preferred retailer!