Does a Romance need a Happy Ever After ending? Launching 'The Bull At The Gate'

The answer to the question is... it depends on both the sub-genre of Romance and where the ending actually lies.

The Bull At The Gate, Book 2 in the Torc of Moonlight trilogy, is an occult thriller, hitting as high as #3 in that AmazonUK chart. A romance beats at its heart, and neither it, nor its prequel, would exist if the romance was removed. So should it be categorised as such? Not, evidently, if it fails to provide a Happy Ever After ending, or a strong promise of it, by the end of Book1. The trilogy will provide one, but not until its conclusion.

Like most writers of romance I write about relationships. I’ve never been a fan of stroppy alpha males or sassy, smart-mouthed females; I much prefer to read and write about ordinary people coping with extraordinary circumstances. The circumstances I choose are simply a bit more extraordinary than most.

I love Ordnance Survey maps and I’m a keen landscape walker eager to interpret the contours around me, but it wasn’t until I followed clues to an ancient spring that I was left standing aghast. In the middle of a Forestry Commission plantation of harvestable pine a section had been allowed to grow wild with the native deciduous species. They weren’t tall, 10-15 feet, more shrubs than trees, but as I looked I kept seeing tiny offerings hanging in their spindly branches. The stone well-head, hardly more than a bump in the ground and covered in moss, was crammed with coins. People – a lot of people – had made the journey on foot to pay their respects. I’ve always been of the mind that old religions fade to oblivion because people stop believing, yet here... What if the deity, which even before the Roman invasion had called this small pool home, had not faded into history but had maintained enough believers to lie dormant?

A lot more thinking went into it, of course, but that became the premise of both Torc of Moonlight, and the trilogy itself. But who wants to write about a nameless deity? It’s much more interesting to write about the 21st century non-believers coping with the ripples. And, as these water deities were fertility goddesses, a romance it had to be.

It didn’t take long to realise that a male point of view would make a better counterpoint, and so Nick, with the exuberance of a nineteen year old freed from family ties, stepped forward to become enamoured with studious Alice and carry the trilogy. Alice doesn’t believe in coincidences; she’s convinced accidents happen for a reason. As any teenager would, Nick scoffs – and as Torc of Moonlight unfolds and readers follow a parallel historical thread back to a bloody betrayal at the pool, we follow him through denial, regret, fear and guilt as Alice, he believes, is lost to him forever.

The Celts upheld the sacredness of Three – hence a trilogy rather than a series, and the three years Nick spends in an emotional wilderness prior to the opening of The Bull At The Gate. In York, a walled mediaeval city with Roman history buried beneath every building, he finds the reality of the normal life he’s trying to re-establish beset on every side. The police suspect him in the disappearance of a female student; his landlady is certain he’s dangerous and should be confined to a mental hospital. Only Alice believes he is stronger than he thinks he is. Desperate to right the wrongs between them, he convinces himself that he can cope, regains his self-belief, and vows to return his true love to his side.

And if that’s not a Romance, what is?

If you'd like to leave a comment you'll be entered into a draw for an e-copy of Books 1 & 2. [Thanks - draw now closed]

Torc of Moonlight Book 1 is discounted to 99c/99p for a limited period.
The Bull At The Gate Book 2 is available in ebook only, paperback to follow
All Formats now – filtering through to iBooks, Nook, Kobo in a few days

This post is part of a listed blog tour. For more information on how Celtic imagery is used in the trilogy read Writing About Alternate Realities.

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Beneath The Shining Mountains - 99c / 77p - Linda Acaster

...shows a fascinating culture...

The Bull At The Gate, the second in the Torc of Moonlight trilogy of occult thrillers, is soon to go Beneath The Shining Mountains to 99c/77p to give readers a taste of my writing style. As I write, it is steadily climbing the Native American bestseller chart.
live, and as part of the pre-launch promotion I’m discounting

Due to this being a time-sensitive discount it only applies to Amazon direct. Those who read via Nook, Kobo, iBooks, etc, can use the Coupon Code HL73P at Smashwords to gain the same price – but only until 03 March. Get it while you can!

Beneath The Shining Mountains  is a parallel coming-of-age story concerning both Moon Hawk, whose starry-eyed belief in the power of love is sorely trialled, and Winter Man who wants to remain free both of a wife and of responsibilities to his people. But the turning of a year tests the lovers, making both rethink their roles. In this excerpt, Moon Hawk is a new bride and the Apsaroke village is on the move to the winter camping grounds

~~

The morning was full of changes. The sky cleared for a while and was as blue as a kingfisher’s wing. The peaks of the Shining Mountains seemed unusually close, and looked, at times, as if they were dancing with white flames; snow, Winter Man knew, being whipped from the high ridges by gales too harsh to contemplate — storm winds. The air chilled, and thick grey clouds reared above the peaks to scud across to the further horizon as if dirty cottonwood seeds blowing before the breeze. The streams began to rise, telling of unseen cloudbursts in the higher reaches.

As an outrider, Winter Man rode beyond the slowly moving column or sat astride his fast, unburdened roan, his keen eyes directed to the deeply folding land either side of the sprawling line, but of the foes he watched for there was no sign.

The land was changing as they pushed south. Pockets of berry-bushes were becoming more numerous and scattered, not merely cleaving to the edges of creeks where the water fed them. The grass, too, was more lush, and of a finer quality. Birch and ash and oak thickets flourished in sheltered delves.

He turned his gaze to the column meandering along the lowlands below. It was a sight which never tired him. So many people . . . So many horses . . . Their noise and colour filled his senses. Who would have thought, during the same journey a year ago, that he’d now have a wife riding there below him? He shook his head. Not he. A complete man — that was what Hillside called him.

Strangely enough, that was how he felt. He’d expected marriage to feel no different from the taking of a new lover, but it did, though he was still uncertain why. Hillside had laughed, and told him to enjoy and not complain. At the time he’d chuckled and nodded his agreement, but Winter Man knew only too well the truth hidden in those words. His contentment with any one woman had never lasted. Despite their marriage, he knew it wouldn’t last with Moon Hawk, either. It was the way of things, something he accepted. Better that he made the most of what he had while it was there to savour.

He flicked his quirt towards his roan’s thigh, and it obediently began to descend the ridge. Boys were hunting jack-rabbits further down the slope, though by the look of it more arrows had been broken than rabbits killed. Two dogs were busily enlarging the animals’ holes, but he decided that the rabbits had little cause for concern.

Altering the weight of the shortened gun cradled in his arms, he heeled the roan sharply in the ribs to quicken its gait. The middle of the day had come and gone. A man was laughed at if his mind dwelt on hunger after travelling for so short a time, but it would be an excuse to visit the column and seek out Moon Hawk. He’d ridden by her position twice just to look at her, though he didn’t think she’d seen him. Perhaps she would enjoy a quiet word, a joke, maybe. It would be something for the other brides to tease her about — a doting husband full of concern for the wellbeing of his wife. She would blush. He liked to see her blush. He’d never known any woman blush as easily as Moon Hawk.

He cantered on to the flatter land, moving parallel and slightly faster than the wide, untidy line. Moon Hawk turned and smiled at his approach, though he knew she couldn’t possibly have heard him. A secret sense, perhaps? A woman’s intuition?

‘How goes your ride? Have you lost any of our belongings yet?’

Her face was a study of affronted pride. ‘Of course not!’

He laughed, as she realised he’d only been joking, and he watced her smile, coyly trying to hide the burning of her cheeks.

‘Is there food for a hungry husband?

~~

Despite hailing from England, Linda Acaster has always been fascinated by the historical lives of the native peoples of the northern plains, and for many years was a re-enactor giving talks to schools and community groups.

Grab a copy of Beneath The Shining Mountains at 99c/77p, and keep abreast of her book launches and offers by following her website or signing up there for a Newsletter. If you enjoyed this post, why not share it via Twitter below? Thanks!