The Restless Dead in the Middle Ages - Lindsay Townsend

Did people in the Middle Ages believe in ghosts? They certainly believed in restless spirits, which they called revenants, from the Latin meaning ‘to return’. It was believed that the unquiet dead, particularly those who had died by violence or by reason of a grudge, or those who would not give up strong passions and carnal pleasures, would return to haunt the living. These revenants might appear within a graveyard or in a particular area, known to them in life, and terrorize the living.

In Dark Maiden I have a woman who is tormented by a lusty revenant who comes to her bed and tries to lie with her. Yolande, my heroine, learns that in this case the restless dead is the woman's husband. As an exorcist, Yolande takes certain steps to ensure that his widow is no longer plagued. You can find out what she does in the novel.

Here's an excerpt to give you a flavour. Yolande is talking to the villagers in their church. All the things she speaks of were believed or done in the Middle Ages.

“Godith, I have said it already. This is no vampire,” Yolande repeated for the third time.
       “How do you know that?”
       “Because there is no plague, pestilence or disease here. There is a restless soul, a revenant, yes, but one drawn by love and desire, not by hate.” Her lips quivered slightly, the only sign of tension in her. “I will write a letter of absolution and the soul will find his rest.”
       “Does that mean the dreams—”
       “Another matter altogether. I will work on that when I have finished with the revenant.”
       “Yet how can that be, and so simple? A letter?”
       “Being a sacred scribe is not simple,” Geraint put in. He wanted to wag a finger at the noisy goodwife, but confined  himself to folding his arms across his chest. “Can you write, Mistress Reeve?”
        Even in the dim orange flames, he could see Godith blush. “We heard his dogs outside,” she exclaimed, as indignant as a hen pushed off its nest and determined to have her say. “They come because they dread him and how is that good? How can he be good?”
       “Whose dogs?” Yolande stepped forward into the heart of the nave and bore down on Godith. “Was he a huntsman, a forester? I promise I will harm nothing, do no injury to any of your kin, be they living or passed on.”
        She stood tall and slim as a lily, a gentle dark Madonna. The drooping garland of Christmas roses hung from her belt like a perfumed cloud, the candle and brazier flames surrounded her like a halo. “Please, let me help you. Let me help this poor soul to his final, honored rest.”
        “He was a huntsman for our lord. Martin, his name was,” remarked a quiet, weary voice. “He was my husband. He owned the dogs, though they come to me now, and often not only them… We buried him last month by the church gate so he can see our house.”
        A squat ball of a woman pushed through the reluctant villagers, with a son and daughter trailing behind like ducklings. When she looked up at Yolande, Geraint saw the grooved shadows under the woman’s eyes and could not help but notice how her homespun dress bagged on her.
       Martin liked his woman very plump, but she has lost much flesh of late.
       “Perhaps we buried him too close,” she was saying. “He can find us—find me—so easily. Father William said he would rest.”
        Father William knows little of rest himself these days. Geraint disliked the clergy but even he could find a little pity for this less-than-holy father.
       “Daughter, I can give him peace,” Yolande said gently. “He loved you greatly, yes?” And more gently still, “He seeks to remain with you? By day and by night? Does he come as himself, or as shadow?”
       “Shadow. Ah God!” The woman shuddered and fresh tears burst from her. Yolande swiftly drew her aside to the south wall of the nave, talking to her and her children in a low, urgent way. Geraint could tell it by the set of her shoulders and by the way she lifted and stretched out both arms as if to shield the stricken family.
       “She yours?”
        Geraint deigned to glance at the smith, disliking the fellow already, the more so because the fellow was still looming in church. “My lady is her own.”
        “Bitten off more than she can chew here, I wager.”

More details of 'Dark Maiden' here.

Can be ordered from Ellora's Cave here.
Can be ordered from Amazon US here and Amazon UK here.
Can be ordered from Barnes and Noble here

Ellora's Cave (June 13 2013)

Read Chapter One

Lindsay Townsend

Guest Kiki Howell: Historical Wordsmithing

Linda Banche here. Today I welcome Kiki Howell and her latest book, the erotic Regency paranormal, Torn Asunder. Here she talks about the wonderful Regency language we fans of the genre love so much.

Welcome Kiki!

One of my favorite parts about researching Regency England is coming across new cant and common Regency phrases. The language itself, to me, lends a bit of magic to the time period even before I add in my own paranormal elements. *g*

I love playing with words. No surprise there I guess. But, no matter what I am writing, my favorite stage of the process is the rewriting where I look at each sentence, arrange the words just right to get them to come across just as I want them. When writing a historical romance set in the early eighteen-hundreds England, I also get to play with the cant in my dialogue.

I have read that most of this colorful slang came from London’s underworld, the seedier parts of town if you will, the pleasure haunts of London. Can’t tell you why I find it comical that the upper ten thousand may have adopted these words from the lower classes, but I do. It makes using it all that more rich somehow.

So, many of my favorite phrases you will find in my new novel, Torn Asunder. I have made a list of them below, some include my own thoughts in parentheses after the meaning. I promise to leave the most colorful ones out. But, I have to start with…

Inexpressibles – breeches, clothing used as undergarments at the time (This for me is a shining example of the mentality of the time, ideas of propriety and all.)

ark ruffians -- thieves, in conjunction with watermen, who rob and sometimes murder their victims, then throw them overboard (I used this one since my heroine travels by water from England to a magical island in Ireland. I found it to be so primitive and appropriate.)

to raise a breeze – to make a disturbance, get upset about something (This term is like a metaphor for yelling. I love it!)

ardent – characterized by intense feeling, zealous, vehement

banbury tale -- nonsensical story (I’m an English major, what can I say!)

flush in the pockets – well off, has money

close-fisted –stingy

black spy – devil

Bygaged - bewitched

Bumblebroth – a tangled situation (This word brings about an image in my head of a woman trying to make soup by boiling live bees. Now wouldn’t that be a terrible predicament.)

Maggot in one’s head – a silly notion (Gross, but fitting.)

Grand Alliance – a marriage (Again, I feel they hit the nail on the head here.)

Rudesby – an uncivil fellow (LOL)

Shine everyone else down - pretty

As well, there are many terms and phrases which express strong emotions which all seem so appropriate to me, like: Devilish things!, Hell and Blast!, Gads!, He’s a blasted idiot!, A sillier notion I have never heard of! and more…

Quite colorful words, and most are quite appropriate, descriptive in a very metaphorish kind of way as well. I just love it. So, I hope you will enjoy my newest novel as much as I did writing it. Fraught with scenes of explicit intimacy, romantic spells and mystical shapeshifting, Torn Asunder is a unique blending of the age of manners with sexual magic.

Torn Asunder BLURB:
Aubrey Griffen is a witch whose true reasons for coming to London soon fall to the wayside when she catches the eye of Edmund Bryant, the Marquess of Dalysbury. He seduces her into a whirlwind romance until the lies and threats of his mother force her to flee to Triaill Brimuir, a secret island of her ancestors off the coast of Ireland. Edmund goes after her only to be hit by Aubrey’s confusion and anger when she magically transforms him into an elemental beast of her own creation.

However, it is when Edmund’s lust mysteriously turns him back into a man that the couple are forced to deal with a family secret and untold of powers. Now, Edmund must learn to shift himself into the beast in order to save her in a battle of black verses white magic.

Genres: Historical (Regency), Paranormal (Witches & Shifters), Erotic Romance

Purchase at in ebook or trade paperback at Excessica Publishing or Amazon as well as many other retailers.