Virginie Marconato joins us this week with some amazing facts behind her novel, Seducing the Warrior.
A scene in chapter 4 of Seducing the Warrior is directly inspired by a true story. It took place in autumn 1066, just before the conquest of England by the Normans, the kind of story that seems too good to be true—and perhaps is, we’ll never know.
Harald Hardrada the Danish king, had landed in Yorkshire with the intention of conquering the country, thinking himself the rightful successor to the late king, Edward the confessor, who had died childless. At first everything went well for the fearsome invaders but eventually they were defeated by the army of Harold Godwinson, another contender to the throne, the one who ended up being killed in Hastings less than a month later. His men had traveled North in record time the meet the Norsemen, taking them by surprise. A good portion of the army was in a different location and the ones who were actually there had taken their mail off because of the heat.
The Battle of Stamford Bridge from The Life of King Edward the Confessor by Matthew Paris. 13th century.
Still, despite their advantage, at the start of the battle, the Saxons were prevented for crossing the bridge over the river Derwent by a single man, a beserker, legend has it, a formidable warrior at the very least, armed with a double-bladed axe. He cut down all the men trying to get past him. In the end he was defeated not by strength but by cunning. A Saxon warrior was sent under the bridge to skewer him from underneath. He thrust his spear through the planks of wood and killed him, allowing the army to finally cross the river and attack the Norsemen. I chose to think that this unnamed warrior who changed the fate of the day was my heroine Eyja, who had dressed a man to join the army marching to defend their country. Read Seducing the Warrior to see how that came about!
About the Book
England, 1066. Friends to lovers in the middle of battle. Both of mixed Saxon and Norse decent, Eyja and Moon have known each other all their lives. When invaders threaten the country of their mothers, they decide to go and fight. Away from the village, unsettling feelings start to emerge and they begin seeing each other in a different light. Between the reckless imp and the protective warrior, sparks soon start to fly. How will they deal with the unexpected change? Can things ever be the same when they return to the village—assuming they survive the battle?
Buy it here.
About the Author: Virginie Marconato
I think I became a writer the day I decided to write a (very bad, shamefully close to the real story) version of White Fang when aged nine or ten! As for the Middle Ages I fell in love with it at school during a history lesson, then Kevin Costner’s Robin Hood put its final seal on it all. A girl of twelve then, I never recovered!
An Excerpt
As if to prove they had better follow her lead, she asked, quite out of the blue, “Do you remember the time I came back home with a black eye?”
A smile tugged at his lips and he didn’t try to fight it. “Which time?”
Eyja swatted Moon on the arm at the cheeky question. The wretched man! His grin was far too wide, he was enjoying himself far too much remembering just how wild she had been as a child for her to allow the comment to pass unnoticed.
“Silly!” She should have known he would tease her.
“I’m not being silly. You were as reckless as any boy and got yourself in all sorts of scrapes. You still do.”
There was no point arguing the point. She did. Hadn’t she proved it by going to war? Besides, he didn’t seem to mind. He’d even made it sound like a compliment, and Eyja preferred to be praised for her spirit rather than the color of her eyes, or anything else she had no control over. It was much more meaningful to be appreciated for one’s achievements than for one’s physique. Her appearance was something she owed to her parents, not to her own merit. Thorfinn had complimented her curves, enthused about the pertness of her breasts, no doubt thinking she would be pleased. She had not. After all, if he had thought her scrawny and her breasts sagging, she would have been unable to do anything about it. But with a different shape to her hips or a fuller bosom, she would still be the same intrepid imp Moon appreciated. It was what mattered.
Rather than finding her lacking, he admired her for what many people might have found off-putting.