Blog Tour: Ragnar The Murderer by Lily Byrne - Author Interview + Excerpt

Ragnar the Murderer

Lily Byrne

Publisher: Taylor Street Books

ISBN: 13: 978-1463698379

ASIN: B005BENNW2

Number of pages: 210

Word Count: 40,000

Amazon.com  Kindle

A tale of love and treachery.

It is a time of uneasy truce, of two races living side-by-side, inter-marrying even, but forever on the look out  for treachery among their neighbors.

They meet, they bathe together and they consort. Life is short, fun is likely to be brief, and opportunity has to be seized wherever it can be found without unleashing long-held rivalries and carnage.

Then the youthful Dane, Ragnar, falls in love with Aelfwyn the Angle who is already promised by duty to one of her own village.

Ragnar and Aelfwyn's passionate love affair is a secret which will never be hidden for long, but theirs is not the
only secret around.

When Ragnar finds himself charged with murder, he and Aelfwyn are forcibly parted. But is Ragnar really a  cold-blooded, cynical killer or is there a more sinister plot being played out?

About Lily Byrne:

I faffed around at writing for many years until I had my daughter, but becoming a mum seemed to kick start something in me: I realised that I now had a purpose and time was limited, so I must get on with it.

The winter of 2009 was severe and as I and my family live in a small village, we were house bound by unusually deep snow for southern England. So I settled down in my office (i.e. the corner of our bedroom) and began my first book, which was published in 2010.

I haven’t stopped writing since. I go through phases of planning my story, writing furiously, or editing it. It is much easier now my daughter is at school and I get a few hours of work done each day.

My daughter has truly been an inspiration to me: she has had severe health problems in her short life but is always smiling and laughing, planning for the future, full of ideas. Working at home writing and editing has been ideal, I love my life.

blog: http://lilybyrne.wordpress.com/

FB page: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Books-by-Lily-Byrne/158945350811828

Twitter pages: https://twitter.com/LilyByrneWrites

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4978822.Lily_Byrne

Amazon page US  Amazon Page UK

Let's invite Lily to join us for a short interview!

Hey! It’s lovely to have you on the blog today! So, shall we begin? J

Its lovely to be here, I haven’t been on a blog tour before so its all new.

For starters, why not tell us a little about yourself? Perhaps something not many people know?

Not many people know I like motorsport, mostly watching it, but I have driven a rally car round a course. I went to Brands Hatch for a rally lesson as a special birthday present. It was SO exciting!

Otherwise I am a mum, writer and editor. I have one child who is now at school, so I can do editing for my publisher, Taylor Street Books, and my own writing.

What made you want to become a writer?

I have no idea. I have just always wanted to write, and written stories from when I was a little girl, about whatever I thought about at the time. School stories, ones about pets and when I got a bit older, romances.

Do you have any hidden talents? *wink*

Er… list making. Going down stairs quickly. Can’t think of any others!

What gives you inspiration for your book(s)?

Well, to some extent, the Viking books I have been writing lately were inspired two friends of mine, writers Ryan Spier and Richard R Jones (or Reggie, as he’s known). They are both tall with wild red hair, have tattoos and often go out drinking with their mates and get into all sorts of trouble. I don’t think they even know each other but they are quite alike, and made me think of Vikings. I’d never investigated the Viking age so I thought it might be interesting to do so, which it was, and a story was born, about a tall red haired Viking named Ragnar…

Are your characters based off real people, or did they all come entirely from your imagination?

Generally, they are from my imagination, but there are obviously well known human traits such as love, greed, ambition within those characters.

Could you tell us a bit about your book and why it is a must-read?

‘Ragnar the Murderer’ is basically rather like ‘Romeo and Juliet’, a love story about two young people from different cultures, who fall in love, but their cultures disapprove strongly and try and prevent them being together. It’s my favourite theme of ‘forbidden love’, which is the theme of many stories: will our hero and heroine get over all the hurdles and stay together, or will they be prevented? Is Ragnar actually a murderer, or has he been framed? Dun dun DUN!

What do you love most about the writing process?

I like the planning, and the bit where you can finally see the book taking shape, I like the research—I got very carried away researching the Dark Ages and Viking life—and the bit where I finish the book and write ‘the end’. But of course finishing the book is terribly sad too, because the story is over and my friends have gone L So I do actually love all of the process.

And of course, do you have a particular favorite character? I know an author will love most if not all of the characters he/she creates, but I’m sure there must be a favorite of yours! So who is it, and why?

My favourite at the moment is Kjartan from the Ragnar series. He is so naughty and will try anything. He is the opposite of me—I’m a cautious sensible person—maybe he does all the things I secretly wish I could do.

Will you tell us a little about your plans for the future, and maybe other books that are in the works? (Ideas thought out, perhaps even a rough draft?)

At the moment I’m not writing another book, I wrote two Ragnar books last year and its tired me out rather. I am doing editing for my publisher, which is lovely because I get to read all sorts of different genres. I think there is a fourth Ragnar book to come, but when, I don’t know. When I get inspired again, although I have a rough idea in my head. Maybe all the loose ends from the first three books will come together for a grand finale!

And now, just some little random questions!

Favorite colour?

Purple

Favorite place?

Bed

Favorite book?

Probably, ‘The Secret Garden’ by Frances Hodgson Burnet, ‘Ballet Shoes’ by Noel Streatfeild or ‘Little Women’ by Louisa M Alcott. I can’t think of an adult book I like more than those. They all have feisty heroines, don’t they, hm…

Favorite genre? (and why, if you like)

Forbidden or unrequited love, generally historical. Because its tantalizing—will they, won’t they? How will they get over the obstacles between them? Love makes the world go round, I reckon, so I like reading about it.

To end off, is there anything you would like to say to your readers?

Be adventurous with your reading, don’t demand that every book is written to a formula or fits neatly into one genre. And remember that behind every book is an author with feelings, so don’t write spiteful reviews, be constructive.

Hmm, I think that should be about it for today! It was a pleasure to have you on the blog today! Wishing you all the best in your career! :D

Thank you, some great questions!

Time for an excerpt!

“Come on!” urged Saehild, hopping from one foot to the other to

keep warm. “The quicker we get there the quicker we’ll come back.”

Aelfwyn, being shorter and thinner than her younger sister,

found it harder to wield the pails. The long, stone wall edged path to

the well led downhill, and she hated carrying the heavy pails back

up again.

“I’m looking forward to the wedding feast of Eappa and

Geatfleda next week, aren’t you? It’ll be a change from daily tasks.

When I’m married I’ll have slaves and they’ll do all the work while I

enjoy myself.”

“You’ve got to find a rich husband first.”

Aelfwyn imagined it wouldn’t be difficult. Fair of face and

curvaceous of body, men couldn’t resist Saehild. Their parents

insisted she should not get married until her fifteenth birthday

however, and as that loomed, soon Aelfwyn would lose her

annoying but amusing companion.

Leafless, icy trees eerily overhung the sunken path through the

wood.

As they turned the last corner, they saw two figures by the well,

wearing the red woollen cloaks of Jarl Thorvald’s men, stout leather

boots, and trousers with garters. Complaining to each other, their

breath clouded around them as they chipped at the frozen water

with their spears.

The girls hesitated a few yards away.

“Will they attack us?” whispered Saehild dramatically, clutching

at her sister.

Aelfwyn sighed. “Probably not, but we’d better wait until they’ve

gone.”

The taller Dane abruptly looked up and smiled. His dark red hair

was wavy but tied back in a plat over his shoulders and he wore a

fur cap instead of a helmet, as he wasn’t in battle. With skin rather

darker than most Danes, he looked pleasant, not handsome but

inscrutable, especially as his well groomed beard and moustache

covered most of his lower face.

“Come,” he said. “Do not be frightened.”

The other turned too, and smiled. Now, he really was good

looking. Straight golden hair, his eyes big and blue, his lips an

attractive shape. His moustache and beard were fortunately less full

than the other’s, as this revealed his beauty. The sisters gasped. He

held his hand out in a welcoming motion so they stepped forward as

one.

“We break ice,” said the handsome one, bending over his task

while the other kept watch.

The girls watched, fascinated. Saehild pretended to re arrange

her head-rail, letting her It was flaxen blond, soft fine hair slip out.

She took great care of it, unlike many girls, and owned three combs.

“Saehild!” Aelfwyn glared at her, shocked at her inappropriate

behaviour.

“We’ve all got hair, it’s not something to be hidden,” she

retorted.

“There!” The handsome Dane pulled up the bucket from the

well, and gestured for them to come forward. He then tipped water

into their pails, smiling at both of them until they blushed.

Aelfwyn thought, however, that he smiled more at her sister. The

same as every other man. Men were so weak and easily understood.

They saw a pretty face and were instantly besotted. It amused her to

see so many of them pursuing her sister, who often didn’t notice.

Saehild was tall and well formed, obviously healthy and a promising

prospect for bearing children.

Being born underweight meant Aelfwyn had always struggled to

grow and throw off illnesses. As a result she had remained short and

thin, despite eating as much as she could.

Grateful that her mother had kept her rather than abandoning

such a weak sister. Everyone always thought she was the younger one, and even

by eighteen, men hadn’t shown an interest. They no doubt thought

of her as unpromising breeding stock.

As she and her sister stepped back, feebly mumbling “Thank

you”, the taller Dane began filling his own pails. He seemed to be

instructing his reluctant companion, who turned back to the girls.

“Bjarni.” He pointed to himself, bowing his head politely and then

pointed to his taller companion. “Ragnar.”

“Saehild,” she gushed in delight. “My sister, Aelfwyn.”

Ragnar did not seem pleased however, and said something sharp

to Bjarni in their own language. Bjarni rolled his eyes and Saehild

giggled.

“We should go now,” said Aelfwyn, realising their vulnerable

position alone in the wood with two unfamiliar Danes.

“Goodbye. See you again,” said Saehild, before Aelfwyn could

drag her away.

Bjarni looked after them with interest.

“What d’you think, then?” he asked Ragnar as the girls rounded

the corner and disappeared from view. “Would you fuck them?”

“Yes, probably,” his friend said unthinkingly. “I mean, no! We

shouldn’t be associating with the locals. We have our jobs to do, we

should-“baby, even so she wished to be as attractive as her

“By the gods, you’re so boring! You wouldn’t fuck either of them

just because of your job?”

“The Jarl said we must be honourable if we’re training to be

Huskarlr. At your age, you’re supposed to have grown out of fucking

around.” Ragnar’s job meant everything to him, he had no family

and Jarl Thorvald was the only father he had ever known.

“I’m not nineteen yet. I hope by twenty I won’t be like you and

have forgotten how to do it.” Bjarni pretended to doze off against

the wall so Ragnar prodded his leg with his spear.

“Get off! I’ll have the tall, pretty one. Those breasts, you could

get lost in them. I bet she’s a dragon in the sack-“

“Calm down or I’ll throw this ice over you. Come on.” Ragnar set

off with two pails, Bjarni following cheerfully with the others.

“Think they come here every day?”

“I expect so. But we’re only on water duty for the fortnight, so

don’t get too excited. There are loads of local girls for you to harass.”

“Water duty! It should be the women doing such tasks, not us.”

“It’s to teach us humility. You need to learn it.”

Bjarni kicked at him- no easy task while carrying pails of waterbut

Ragnar managed to fight back. Continuing to bicker, they

rounded the corner in the opposite direction to the Anglisc, heading

back to Hallfridby.

* * *

“That was a nice start to the day,” said Saehild on the way back

to their home. “Bjarni is so handsome, do you think father would let

me marry him?”

“I doubt it. Father’s very traditional, as you know. He will want

you to marry a nice Anglisc boy. Someone like Wilmund.”

“Ugh, Wilmund! He never washes his hair, he smells bad.” She

giggled.

Aelfwyn giggled too. “Or Deorweald. Father would approve of

him.”

“Deorweald? He must be about twenty five! Almost old enough

to be my father!”

“Or what about-“

“Oh stop talking about these horrible Anglisc. They’re all ugly and

stinking. Give me a beautiful Dane any day. I want Bjarni to rush into

our village, fight off all my suitors and carry me off to his hall. Or a

hut he’s built just for us, we’d live happily ever after and have

twenty children.”

“Twenty?”

“Yes, wouldn’t they be beautiful? The boys would look like him,

the girls like me.”

“Where would I live?”

“You could have a corner in our hut, you could help me look after

the twenty children, I’d need help.”

“Do you think they’ll be at the well tomorrow?”

“We have to fetch water anyway, so they know where to find us.

What did you think of the other one? Ragnar was it?”

“He’s alright. I’m sure he fancies you anyway.”

Saehild nodded smugly. “I saw him looking at me slyly. I could

marry Bjarni and have Ragnar as my lover.” She giggled.

“You would definitely have twenty children then, with both of

them loving you!” Aelfwyn giggled too. She didn’t intend to get

married. If no man wanted her, she wouldn’t want them either.

* * *

The next day, Saehild hurried her sister off to the well so early

that her mother, Cwenburg, stared in shock. Intrigued by the

meeting yesterday, Aelfwyn was not reluctant however. The Danes

kept to themselves socially, with their own feasting days and

customs, but were approachable sometimes. She had heard tales of

fearsome Vikingr marauders in the past, but none she had met

caused her problems, so why not see what they were really like?

They waited at the well for a time, but the men did not appear,

however slowly Saehild filled the pails.

They were just about to leave, when a flash of red caught

Aelfwyn’s eye. “Look!”

Two cloaked figures were hastening along through the leafless

trees.

“Is it them?”

A few seconds of uncertainty led to Ragnar and Bjarni appearing

on the path in a hurry, then slowing their pace to a casual saunter.

“Don’t be too friendly,” Aelfwyn warned her sister.

“Morning,” said Bjarni, smiling. “No ice today?”

“No, the weather’s warmer today. Thank you for yesterday, we

wouldn’t have had any water if it wasn’t for you,” babbled Saehild.

Neither Dane understood her rapid speech.

“Thank you for helping us yesterday,” said Aelfwyn plainly, and

their expressions cleared.

“You are welcome,” said Ragnar, bowing slightly.

* * *

So for the next two weeks, the sisters met the Danes at the well.

Conversation was understandably limited, but they managed.

Aelfwyn often found herself fetching the water while Saehild

dawdled. The Danes politely waited for her to get all the water she

needed, but she could hear they were both talking to Saehild,

competing for her attention. It wasn’t fair. Why should she do all the

work while her idle sister sat around resting? She banged the bucket

and pail around carelessly, making as much noise as possible. She

crashed around so much that one of the pails slipped out of her

hand and down the well.

Shrieking, she clutched at it, but luckily, a Danish hand moved

quicker. Ragnar grabbed at the pail and almost fell down the well

reaching for it. His arms were far longer than hers but even he only

just saved it in time.

Aelfwyn snatched it from him. “Thank you,” she muttered.

“You are welcome.”

She looked up to see him suppressing a smile, but carried on

filling her pails in silence.

“So, you come to our feast in two weeks?” Bjarni said to Saehild.

Ragnar rolled his eyes.

“Sorry about him,” he said. “He likes women better than work.”

Aelfwyn felt a giggle rising in her throat.

“I’m sorry about my sister too. She is the same. Except men, not

women of course.”

He laughed.

“Is she married?”

“No.” Aelfwyn sighed. How often had she been asked this by one

of her sister’s enamoured suitors? “My parents say not before she is

fifteen.”

“She better get married soon. Or she will be in trouble.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean- er- she will be in the bed of a man soon if she behaves

like that. Sorry.”

Aelfwyn looked back at Saehild sitting on the surrounding wall

with Bjarni. She seemed to be teaching him Anglisc, amid much

giggling. They sat very close, gazing into each other’s eyes.

Ragnar realised he had never seen such a small woman as

Aelfwyn before- he could see right over her head, even when she

stood up and he sat down. He didn’t realise adults could be so tiny.

He surreptitiously put his hand next to hers and was amazed it

looked about twice the size. His fingers were like sausages compared

to her twigs. No, not twigs, something softer, like-

She turned back and he snatched his hand away quickly.

“I am not my sister’s keeper. I mean, I am not her mother or

father.”

“That is true.”

“It’s her business what she does. I am used to men chasing after

her.”

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“You have men chasing after you, as you are the older sister?”

“None of your business!” So he hadn’t made the usual mistake.

He got on with filling his pails in silence.

“What about you, Dane?”

“No, I do not have men chasing me. I would cut their heads off.”

They exchanged glances, then burst out laughing. Aelfwyn

glanced warily at Saehild. So much for her disapproval of associating

with Danes, she behaved the same as her sister.

“They do not see us, do not worry.”

So he also guessed her thoughts. Obviously a worldly wise man.

“You come to our feast also?”

“Oh! Er- yes. Maybe I will.” She blushed with surprise.

“It is Jolablot, the coming of spring.”

“It isn’t spring yet.”

He shrugged. “It will come. We like to feast, spring or not.”

* * *

Too soon the fortnight ended and the two Danes had to finish

their water duty, which saddened them all.

“Jolablot starts at the next full moon,” said Bjarni on the last day

at the well. “We will meet you at the burnt tree between our

villages.” They said their goodbyes and went their separate ways.

“Oh God, I am so excited!” squealed Saehild, almost spilling the

water. “Something to look forward to.”

The wedding feast of Eappa and Geatfleda had been the same as

any other, with the same old people saying and doing the same old

things, so a Danish feast would be a novelty.

“How can we stop our family finding out?”

“We could ask Sigulf to keep watch. When he went out to meet a

girl last week, I told Father he was helping with the lambing, so he

owes me.”

“Very well.” Aelfwyn felt a flutter inside. Their first Danish feast.

What would it be like? Tired of being sensible and careful, it was

time to relax and enjoy herself. The Danes at the well hadn’t been

frightening or violent, so surely the others could not be either.

* * *

16

After the next day’s tasks had been completed, Aelfwyn’s father,

Aldulf, called her to him.

“Daughter, you are now eighteen and no sign of a husband. I

have taken an offer from Eadbald for your betrothal. As you know,

his wife recently died and he has eight children to care for. He has

long admired you and it is time to make a contract.”

“B-but Father, Eadbald is over thirty.” She visualised the portly

man with his customary vacant expression. A potter and rather

unexciting.

“That is no age! I am over thirty too. Consider yourself fortunate

to have one offer. Your mother and I want to marry you off before

Saehild’s wedding, which will surely be soon as she has so many

suitors.”

Aelfwyn saw the end of her girlhood approaching. A sensible

wife, married to a man old enough to be her father. Tears formed.

“Oh leof, don’t cry. You are fortunate to have a family like yours.

Other parents would have married you off many winters ago, but we

were hoping…” the sentence trailed off.

“Very well father.” She bowed her head.

She told Saehild, unable to keep the disappointing news to

herself. Her sister sympathised for once, forgetting her own

concerns.

“There is nothing I can do,” Aelfwyn said. “They could have

chosen a worse husband for me. Eadbald isn’t a bad man.”

“Just unbelievably boring. Never mind, perhaps you’ll meet

someone at the feast.”

“As if Father would let me marry a Dane. Don’t be silly. I shall just

enjoy the feast as my last taste of freedom and the end of my

girlhood.”

           ---------------------------------------------------------------

So yep, that's about it for today! Thanks for visiting! :)