Showing posts with label #Historical #Fantasy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label #Historical #Fantasy. Show all posts

Thursday, May 7, 2026

Lemme See That #5

 Sneak peek into an epic fantasy series

Part 5 of why sneak peeks are important

5. Low‑pressure engagement:
Readers can enjoy part of the book without commitment.
A full book is a big-time investment.
A chapter is a small, safe step.
That makes readers more willing to click, explore, and share.

The Ancestors' Secrets series

https://books2read.com/Chosen-by-the-Sword

Dear Diary,

After breakfast and Prayer, the dreadful thoughts started to affect me more than I could handle. I stood up, tried to shake the sad mood and act normal by walking to the sink where Elza was busy washing the dishes. Pretending first, and then getting caught up in a cheerful mood, usually worked to shake my dire feelings. It was easy for me to fool others and, eventually, I could fool myself to some degree. My pathetic attempt at acting cheerfully was to grab Elza to dance with me to the “Good Morning Starshine” tune on the radio. I tried to touch her hand, again, but she politely pulled away.

“Look who just got her good mood back? The birthday girl!” Elza exclaimed slapping my hands away.

She smiled, although the look in her eyes puzzled me, and her refusal to touch hands for the third time offended me. She looked at me and, for a fleeting second, I had a feeling she was searching for some change in me. Moreover, I thought she was expecting something from me. She blinked and shook her head a little as if she had closed a discussion in her mind. After a few seconds, she was back to normal—loving and steady. It would be so easy to find out what’s bothering her. I thought. If I could only touch her hand, just for a second…

Elza, tried to divert my attention by asking, “Ilona, you never talk about your blood relatives. Don’t you think it’s time to forgive them?”

“Perhaps, but it’s not easy. It hurt me deeply what my uncle did. I didn’t understand why he never visited us when I was a child. My parents avoided the subject, but I overheard you and Rua talking about it. You said, my uncle never forgave my father for marrying my mother, and I never found out what it was that made him object to their marriage. In fact, I have seen him maybe three or four times in my entire life. He had two children whom I know of, but I never met his wife.”

“I remember when he came to your parents’ funeral. Soon after discovering that you were of legal age and your parent’s sole beneficiary, he didn’t even stay for the service.”

“Yes, I was sad, and he seemed infuriated after the lawyer read the will. Those emotions did not allow us to communicate. Later, I never thought about inviting him to visit, and he seemed to have forgotten about me completely. Sadly, I don’t have any memory of him that would make me miss him, even though he is my only living relative. Perhaps I should have called him, but being stupidly stubborn, I did not.”

“You should give him a call sometimes. He might have changed, and his children are grown by now. Perhaps they would like to meet you and keep in touch.”

“I’ll think about it.”

Gypsy, my bear-sized St. Bernard, snapped me out of the sad mood as he stormed through the custom-made doggy door. He plowed into my legs with such force that it made me lose my footing, “Whoa!” I managed to yelp before plopping onto the floor, on my backside. “Ouch… Gypsy, you’re like a bulldozer.”

He wagged his tail happily, pinned me down and licked me all over my face. I could not escape his overwhelming display of love, as he was too strong.

Mirci Catchmousky, our Maine Coon cat, puffed her long hair and hissed at Gypsy from her perch on a low windowsill. Gypsy trotted over to the cat - giving me time to stand up - and gave her a sloppy lick too. It almost knocked the silver-haired cat off the windowsill. Mirci swatted at Gypsy’s head, which made him jump back. He gave out a low, throaty growl. Although I didn’t see any blood, the cat’s sharp claws must have slashed him a little. Gypsy turned, and with a powerful swish of his tail, sent Mirci flying. She knocked over the garbage can and ran from the kitchen, hissing.

“Yes!” I heard Elza’s muted yell and caught her doing a victory dance from the corner of my eye. I looked at her indignantly, and she quickly wiped the grin off her face. Elza had never been fond of my free-spirited cat. She fed her well and adequately cared for her, but Gypsy had always been her favorite.

Gypsy tried to knock me off my feet again, but Elza rescued me by pushing the pail-sized bowl close to him, with her foot. The sound of the metal bowl sliding on the ceramic tile got his attention as Elza poured his breakfast into the bowl, and he started wolfing it down. I cleaned up at the sink, wiping the slobber off my face.

Elza turned to me, “Is Bela coming to help Ema?”

“Last week he said he would help us. I’ll call him a little later, he likes to sleep in.” I informed while I doodled on the countertop with my wet fingers. The dream I had was still bothering me, and I wanted to talk to Elza about it, but I didn’t know how to bring it up.

Elza snapped me out of my thoughts. “He’s been moping around for days,” she said, giving me a half glance.

The idea of talking about my dream immediately took second place in priority. “What’s wrong?” I asked Elza, concerned. “I haven’t talked to him since Friday. He seemed to be fine then.”

“He called while you were working but made me swear not to tell you. He said he’d wait until you had a day off.” Elza offered shrugging her shoulders.

I glanced at her, and again; the fleeting expectation filled her eyes. She turned away and her anticipation pressed on my mind, but I couldn’t figure out what it was. I grabbed the phone and dialed Bela. He answered on the first ring as if he were awaiting my call.

“What’s wrong? I demanded an answer. Elza said you made her swear not to tell me while I was working.”

“Nothing, love, honestly. It’s just a little writer’s block. My publisher is bugging me to finish the book, but I don’t have a single idea in my head. I need your help, but I didn’t want to bother you when you were working,” he confessed, “and I haven’t seen you for days. I missed you.”

“Oh, you big dope, you should have called me,” I complained, twisting the phone cord between my fingers.

 “You said the opening is tomorrow, so I thought we could talk when I came over to help Ema.”

“Thanks for remembering it. Yes, we can talk after we get everything done.”

“I’ll be there in half an hour.” He abruptly hung up on me, without waiting for my reply.

He forgot my birthday! He’d never forgotten before. I felt sadness creeping up on me and I slowly replaced the phone. I went upstairs, changing into my favorite lounging outfit, faded jeans and soft T-Shirt. By the time I was done, I’d heard the familiar sound of Bela’s sports car pulling up to my driveway and I went out to the porch to greet him. He got out of his car, holding Tui, his chocolate Chihuahua. She was yapping excitedly and squirmed in his hands. Gypsy trotted over, and when Bela put Tui down, he licked her from head to tail with one sweep of his huge tongue. Tui growled at him halfheartedly, not appreciating the unexpected bath, but forgave him quickly and reached up to touch her tiny nose to Gypsy’s, that was almost as large as her whole head. She yapped hello to Gypsy and he gave her a low, throaty rumble. The pair vanished into the backyard, Tui in the lead.

Bela hugged me, “Happy birthday to my bestest friend.”

“You didn’t forget!”

“Nope, and you can’t open your present yet.” His mischievous smile prepared me for what was coming, “And remember, you’re always going to be older than me,”

“Yeah, exactly thirty days older!” I blushed.

I couldn’t help it; I had to punch him on the shoulder. He laughed and dove into the back seat of his car and emerged with his laptop and a poorly wrapped package. He put his laptop in the van and carried the box inside as we walked into the kitchen, holding hands, to have coffee and wait for Ema to get ready. 

Erika M Szabo is known for her diverse range of writings, which span historical fantasymagical realismcozy mysteries, sweet romance, and children's literature. Her writing style is both expressive and insightful, transporting readers into the depths of the characters' emotions.

Sunday, March 3, 2019

I Don't Speak Spanish

But I Write Spanish



Nah, I don't dance Spanish either..
I never learned to speak Spanish and I know only a few words I picked up working as a nurse, but I love a sound and rhythm of this melodious, dynamic language.
And, of course, I love watching the Spanish dance as well.

You might ask how could I publish books in Spanish if I don't speak the language. Well, I met Carmen, an English teacher in Spain, on Facebook, and she mentioned that she needs to refine her English skills. So I asked her if she would translate some of my books. She agreed, and, of course, I paid for the translation because I value the work of others. 

First she translated two of my children's books and later my fantasy series.

A storybook for children 4-12
A little girl teaches her family and her friends how to relate to someone who is hearing impaired.

When Grandma Rosa lost her hearing, Sandra and her parents became frustrated and sad. They didn’t know what to do and how to learn to communicate better with Grandma Rosa.

They tried shouting, changing the tone of their voices or leaning closer to her ear when they talked, to no avail. Rosa could hear some sounds clearly, but certain sounds she couldn’t hear well.

It became an everyday struggle for the family, and they missed the comforting family conversations at dinner time.
Sandra finds a website for hearing impaired people that explains how deaf people communicate. They start learning sign language and to “talk” with their fingers. Sandra and Grandma Rosa find realize that with compassion, love, and hard work, they can overcome the obstacles of disability.
Sandra enseña a su familia y amigos a comunicarse con personas con discapacidad auditiva.
Este divertido libro ilustrado  lleva un importante mensaje para los niños, como aprender a no juzgar o burlarse de alguien sólo porque es diferente.  La vida de algunas personas con discapacidad no es divertida y vivir con una discapacidad conlleva muchos retos, pero nosotros podemos hacer sus vidas más fáciles en vez de más difíciles.
Cuando la abuela Rosa perdió la audición, Los padres de Sandra se sintieron frustrados y tristes. No sabían qué hacer  y cómo aprender a comunicarse mejor con ella. Ellos intentaban gritar, cambiar el tono de voz o acercarse a su oído cuando se dirigían a ella, pero no servía de nada. Rosa podía oír algunos sonidos claramente, pero otros no podía escucharlos bien. Para ellos se convirtió en una lucha diaria poder comunicarse y empezaron a echar de menos las reconfortantes conversaciones de sobremesa.
Bilingual storybook for children 4-12
Sarah, Emma’s mom, promised to bird-sit Pico for two weeks but soon regrets her decision because the noisy parrot keeps screeching and squawking all day, annoying her family and the neighbors. When Pico makes a mess of Emma’s room, Emma gets very angry, but her friends help her. Charlotte notices that Pico seems sad, and Pedro finds out why Pico is shrieking so loudly all the time. The parrot is frustrated because nobody pays attention to him, and nobody understands what he wants.
The purpose of this English and Spanish bilingual book is to show children the beauty of another language and that learning a new language doesn’t have to be boring, it could be fun. The story also delivers a message that when we don’t take the time to listen to each other, we tend to judge others quickly before we get to know them
Sarah, la mamá de Emma, prometió cuidar de Pico durante dos semanas pero pronto se arrepiente de su decisión porque el ruidoso loro se pasa todo el día parloteando y chillando, molestando a su familia y vecinos. Cuando Pico desordena la habitación de Emma, ella se enfada mucho pero sus amigos la ayudan. Charlotte se da cuenta de que Pico parece triste y Pedro averigua porqué Pico está chillando tan alto todo el tiempo. El pájaro está frustrado porque nadie sabe lo que quiere ni le presta atención.
 La propuesta de este libro bilingüe inglés y español es mostrar a los niños la belleza de otra lengua y que aprender un nuevo idioma no tiene que ser aburrido, y puede ser divertido. La historia también transmite el mensaje de que cuando no nos tomamos tiempo para escucharnos los unos a los otros, tendemos a juzgar rápidamente antes de llegar a conocernos.


Alternate history fantasy
Durante siglos, Morana esperó el momento adecuado para reunirse con su amado Joland y conseguir el poder necesario para gobernar el clan ancestral, que aún persiste oculto entre nosotros, con su estricta jerarquía, reglas mortales y tradiciones. Ilona no sabe que ha sido elegida para detener el malévolo plan de Morana. Tampoco sabe nada acerca de su legado personal ni de leyendas o rituales, cuando comienza a recordar las instrucciones de su madre, ocultas entre rimas. No es consciente de que su tranquila vida como doctora está a punto de cambiar y que se verá arrastrada a un peligroso mundo lleno de secretos. El descubrimiento de su poder de sanación y su capacidad de detener el tiempo son a la vez, emocionantes y aterradores. Aparece un hombre siniestro e Ilona relaciona su presencia con una serie de misteriosas muertes a su alrededor. Por otro lado, habiendo estado enamorada en secreto de su mejor amigo, de repente, se siente atraída por el extraño que aparece en su sueño, sintiéndose muy confundida por el fuerte sentimiento de atracción.

The series is also available in English

available as box set or 3 separate eBook and paperback on AMAZON

 When a young doctor, Ilona, starts to develop unusual powers, her life and her beliefs change. Thrown into a world of clan mysteries, traditions and secrets, she begins remembering her mother’s instructions concealed as rhymes.
Punished by the ancestors long ago, Mora has waited centuries for the chance to reunite with her beloved Joland. Now, she seeks to gain the power to rule the ancient clan with a strict hierarchy and deadly laws that still exist hidden among us.
Ilona has been chosen by the ancestors to stop Mora and save the future of the clan.
She has been in love with her best friend but is also drawn to the stranger who appears in a peculiar dream.
Does she have the strength to fight evil?

En el libro 1, “Protegida por el Halcón”, Ilona ve como le es arrebatada su tranquila vida y se ve obligada a enfrentarse a lo desconocido, lo cual la lleva a descubrir secretos ancestrales de los hunos. En el libro 2, adquiere poderes inimaginables para proteger a su familia y el futuro de su pueblo. Ella puede usar sus poderes para el bien o el mal absoluto, la elección sólo depende de ella. El derecho de Ilona a ejercer como curandera se entremezcla con sus deseos de mujer y eso la lleva a tener que aclarar sus sentimientos acerca de los dos hombres de su vida. Viaja con Ilona desde los tiempos en que su pueblo era nómada, pasando por castillos del siglo 14 hasta la actualidad, mientras lucha por superar los obstáculos en su camino.
My books

Tuesday, June 19, 2018

Mythology and Folklore: Part 4

The Legend of the White Stag

Picture credit: Pinterest

The story of the White Stag spread throughout the Northern Hemisphere, from Japan to the British Isles.

Turan people consider the deer sacred because on its antlers it carries the sun and the moon and leads the chosen people from darkness to light, from death to life, and from old to new homelands.

Picture credit: Pinterest

In Hun-Hungarian mythology, the miraculous deer is the most significant animal. The stag's antlers symbolize the world tree and people's relationship with the sky. The shedding and regrowth of the antlers symbolize the cycles of life, disappearance, and rebirth. The golden deer leads man back to the ancient wisdom.

Picture credit: Pinterest

According to Hungarian (Magyar) legend that was preserved in the 13th-century chronicle Gesta Hunnorum et Hungarorum by Simon of Kéza, while out hunting, two brothers Hunor and Magor saw a miraculous white stag (sometimes described as golden). They pursued the animal, but it always stayed ahead of them, leading them westward into Levedia, where they married two princesses and founded the Hun and Magyar people. One of the main reasons for claims of religious and cultural ties between Huns and Magyars is the stag and the brothers Hunor and Magor.

Picture credit: http://osihimnuszunk.network.hu/kepek/csodaszarvasok/csodaszarvas-010

When I was researching Hun history for my new novel series, The Ancestors' Secrets, I came across this ballad that was translated from Hungarian that mentions the "doe with horns". It was confusing that the legend mentions "stag" a male deer, but this ballad specifically says female deer with horns (antlers). Later, I found a short article about it that explained the confusion. In Hun legends, the male and female are represented equally, recognizing feminine and masculine qualities and roles in life. Female and male unite to bring forth life and nurture, and protect it. 

Read a short excerpt from Prelude, book one of The Ancestors' Secrets trilogy:

Wondrous-headed doe with horns
of a thousand branches and knobs.
Thousand branches and knobs
and of a thousand bright candles.
Among its horns, it carries
the light of the blessed sun.
On its forehead, there is a star,
on its chest the moon.
And it starts along the banks
of the shining heavenly Danube,
That it may be the messenger
of heaven and bringer of news,
About our creator and caring God.

I always loved this legend. It was difficult to see the meaning of the legend behind all the symbolism, but when Dad had explained it once, it made some sense to me. He said, “The cosmos, the mother of the sun, is represented by a female horned doe, or hind. Being a symbol of the cosmos, she also carried the stars representing the people united. Just as the cosmos was her mother, she was the mother of the stag who symbolized the sun.”
“Rua, you’ve been telling us stories, but I never heard you mention anything about the four hundreds,” inquired Ema.
“There are many speculations, but nothing is known for certain. The legend says those were dark and uncertain times, and that we might never find out what happened back then,”
Ema frowned, “Oh, you and your legends. Never a straight answer to anything.”
“I just tell the legends as my father before me.”
Ema sighed, annoyed, and started playing with the CD player. To match her mood, she chose Brahms and drummed the tune on her knees. Bela begged her to switch to Chopin, and when she did, everyone settled into a lazy mode. We listened to the music and enjoyed the beautiful late afternoon.
“Tell us more stories Rua,” begged Ema, turning to him.
“Okay, I’ll tell you a story about King Matyas,” Rua said as he sipped his coffee.
We all leaned back, ready for the tale. I always loved his stories about the wise and just king, but Ema cut him off before he could start the story, “But Rua, you told us all the stories about King Matyas already. Tell us why the falcon is so important in our history.”
“Well, according to the legend, the Turul is a messenger of the Gods. It sits on top of the Tree of Life or ‘Életfa’ along with the spirits of unborn children in the form of birds. When we are in need, the Turul stretches its wings over us, guides and protects us.”
Ema’s eyes turned sad, and she looked away, “It doesn’t protect everyone.”
“That’s true. It doesn’t protect individual people from life’s everyday cruelty. It protects us as a nation, all of us. Also, the Turul bird’s role is to protect the sword that appoints the King or Queen, who are proven to be worthy.”
“How can a mythical bird do that?”
“I don’t know, but the legend says that when the time is right, and the person is chosen, they hear the falcon’s victory cry and the flaming sword mark appears on their neck with the symbol of the King or Queen on their face.”
Ema sighed and shrugged her shoulders, “Oh, Rua, these are just legends.”
 “Well, there is a small truth, somewhere, in every tale that’s told. Maybe it’s just a legend. There was not a Hunor who had the mark since the fourteen century, so we can’t say if it’s true or just a myth.”
 “Having a King or Queen is nothing but a show and symbolic representation nowadays. They don’t have the power to rule a nation like the ancestors.” Ema replied.
“That’s true…” Rua looked at Elz, who touched his hand to warn him, and he didn’t finish the sentence.
Noticing the interaction, I said, “Elza, please let him finish.”
Rua smiled, “There is nothing more to say. These are just legends.”



If interested, you can read my blog series about mythology and folklore:

 
COMMENTS

Erika M Szabo via Google+

7 months ago  -  Shared publicly
 
Read the legend of the White Stag
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Lorraine Carey

7 months ago  -  Shared publicly
 
Love learning this legend. It's really interesting how different cultures embrace certain animals and each have their own unique symbolism. You really have done your research here.
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Indeed! I love researching legends that are a part of our rich cultural heritage.
 
+Erika M Szabo It shows in your work.

Joe Bonadonna

7 months ago  -  Shared publicly
 
Love this story, Erika. Great job and excerpt from your novel!
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Thanks Joe :)
 
+Erika M Szabo -- you're welcome!

Mary Schmidt

7 months ago  -  Shared publicly
 
What interesting mythology! You have researched so much and then used that information in the woven tapestry of your book. Bravo!
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Thanks Mary :)
 
Welcome. Blog post quite interesting.

Chris Weigand

7 months ago  -  Shared publicly
 
Thanks for this post. It is totally cool the way you weave the myths and legends into your stories. Totally cool stuff
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I try :)

Toi Thomas

7 months ago  -  Shared publicly
 
I've seen many decpictions of the White/Golden Stag and many short stories and film. I always find it fascinating.
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The White Stag appears in the Harry potter books too, if I remember correctly, as Harry's patronus :)
 
+Erika M Szabo That's cool.

Cindy Smith

7 months ago  -  Shared publicly
 
Love the legend and the excerpt from your awesome book was great!
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Thank you so much Cindy! Your kind words mean a lot to me!

Nikki McDonagh

7 months ago  -  Shared publicly
 
What a wonderful story. I love the spirituality and symbolism of the white stag/doe. Enchanting.
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Yes, it is enchanting and this legend is a bit different in every culture :)

Mary Anne Yarde

7 months ago  -  Shared publicly
 
I love the legends of the white stag. Great Post, Erika!
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Thanks Mary Anne :)

MageofErana AlexB shared this via Google+

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Ruth de Jauregui via Google+

7 months ago  -  Shared publicly
 
Erika M. Szabo​ shares more fascinating stories from Hungarian mythology. The white (or golden) stag that's really a doe in the ballad is a wonderful twist to the tale!
 
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Ruth de Jauregui

7 months ago  -  Shared publicly
 
I love these posts about Hungarian mythology. The white, or golden, stag is a wonderful figure -- especially since the "stag" is a doe in the ballad. Thank you so much for sharing with us!
 
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Rebecca Tran

7 months ago  -  Shared publicly
 
What an interesting post Erika. I love learning about new legends and myths. I find it fascinating that the Stag is described as a doe in the ballad. Thanks for sharing.
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Rebecca Tran

7 months ago  -  Shared publicly
 
Erika Szabo shares the Legend of the White Stag in her series of legends on #OurAuthorGang. She also shares an excerpt from her Ancestor's Secrets series.
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Joe Bonadonna via Google+

7 months ago  -  Shared publicly
 
Today on #OurAuthorGang, Erika M. Szabo​ tells us about the legend of the White Stag, and gives us an excerpt from one of her fantasy novels.
https://asmallgangofauthors.blogspot.com/2018/06/mythology-and-folklore-part-4.html
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Chris Weigand via Google+

7 months ago  -  Shared publicly
 
More mythology and history from Erika.
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Grace Au

7 months ago  -  Shared publicly
 
I love learning the Hungarian legends/lore. Thanks, Erika, for bringing these to us.
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Toi Thomas via Google+

7 months ago  -  Shared publicly
 
Today, Erika M. Szabo​, continues her series on mythology by sharing the legend of the White Stag. #OurAuthorGang
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Cindy Smith shared this via Google+

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