Ceci Giltenan, Author

Courage takes many forms. One of my readers, Fern Martin said, “For me courage is facing someone or something straight on, even when you want to throw up instead.”

I think that is a brilliant description, because it makes each act of courage very personal. Something that it takes courage for me to do, might be absolutely simple for someone else and vice versa. I have flown all over the world and step on a plane without a single concern. One of my dearest friends hates flying. Recently she was offered a promotion which would require her to travel frequently. She wrestled with whether or not to take the job because of her fear. She did accept the promotion and in my opinion, it took great courage to do so. She is still afraid of flying, but she didn’t let that fear get in the way of a great opportunity.

Those of you who have read Highland Solution, have met the MacIan guardsman named Turcuil. Turcuil is described in the following scene:

“Next is Turcuil,” said Fingal. Huge didn’t begin to describe Turcuil. Katherine suspected people believed in giants because of men like Turcuil. At least a head taller than and half again as wide as Niall, he had to be the biggest man she had ever seen. His size, coupled with his black bushy hair and beard, gave him a fearsome appearance.

Fingal’s eyes twinkled with mischief as he continued to introduce the giant. “Ye mustn’t tell anyone, but ye should be warned because once we get to Duncurra, ye are bound to notice,” said Fingal, glancing around as if checking for eavesdroppers. “Turcuil is a changling.” Confused, Katherine cocked her head to one side.

“Oh, aye, he is,” Niall said dryly.

Deciding to play along, Katherine asked “What, pray tell, does he change into?”

“A lovesick swain,” answered Niall, and the men chuckled.

“Ye see,” said Fingal, “Turcuil is rather fond of Edna, who is in charge of the staff at the keep. Edna is a widow and most of us think she has a soft spot for Turcuil, too, although it’s hard to know why.” This elicited more chuckles. “The problem is whenever Turcuil is near Edna, he forgets how to form words, so he has never actually done more than grunt at her. It is no wonder she doesn’t know of his affection.”

One would think a man like Turcuil would be the epitome of courage and I suppose if the only definition of courage was being able to fearlessly ride into battle, he might be. However, the thing that Turcuil must summon his courage to do, the thing he must face straight on (even though he might want to throw up instead) is not a sword wielding warrior; it is a tiny powerhouse of a woman.

It will take him a while but I think we will see more of Turcuil and Edna in book three, Highland Intrigue.

The hero and heroine of Highland Courage have a large festive wedding and after yesterday’s post, I thought I would share a brief excerpt about Mairead’s herb bouquet and the wreath she wears on her head.

When she was ready, her mother brought the finishing touches. “Mairead, love, here is your veil and a wreath for your hair. The wreath is woven from ivy because it represents fidelity and love. Each of your sisters selected a dried flower to include in the wreath.”

Annag said, “I put the pink roses in because they are symbols of beauty and grace, and ye, my little sister, are abundantly rich in both.”
“I put in the white roses for the obvious reason,” said Rose, whose full name, Rhoswen meant “white rose.” “But they are also symbols of respect and innocence.”

“I wanted to put in lilies, pet,” said Lily, “but it is the wrong time of the year, and they don’t dry well, so I completed the trio with red roses instead. I hope your marriage is full of the love and passion they represent.” Mairead blushed. Oddly, she hoped the same thing.

Her mother said, “My sweet, shy child, I added the tiny dried heartsease blossoms for happy thoughts, and thyme for courage. Your brother Flan wanted us to put in some mouse-ear, but I forbade it.” The women laughed, and Brigid continued more seriously, “What isn’t in the wreath is important too, my love. Ye are not a mouse. Ye are a lovely, gentle young woman, and I am very proud of ye.” She kissed her daughter’s cheeks and placed a sheer lace veil on her head. Annag positioned the wreath on top of the veil to hold it in place.

Her mother smiled warmly at her. “Ye look perfectly lovely, Mairead. Now, before we go to the chapel, here is your bouquet. It contains lavender for luck and devotion, myrtle for everlasting love and marital bliss, sage for long life and domestic virtue, rosemary for remembrance, parsley for happiness, and a little more thyme for courage.”

Quick, what image popped into your mind when you read this title? Voldemort? The White Witch? Cercei Lannister?

I’m not going to lie—the image that popped into my head was Snidely Whiplash from the Dudley Do-Right cartoon. Yes, I was a child in the sixties. However, that instant image was soon followed by more serious villains. Although, sometimes a villain can be a faceless entity such as, the Visigoths or the Klingons; generally I think we can all accept that most works of fiction must contain at least one villain. So what are the characteristics of a truly great villain?

Some villains are purely evil. The White Witch, in C.S. Lewis’s The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe is ruthless, cruel and sadistic–evil personified. Perhaps Voldemort falls into this category too. Even though he is fully human, there is little humanity left in him by the end. On occasion, a faceless entity can land in this camp. Authors of Highland romance frequently paint the English in this light, although that can begin to stretch credibility. I think, outside of fantasy, it is difficult to create this kind of villain believably.

Occasionally one meets the damaged villain, one who does horrible things or commits absolute atrocities. Characters such as Hannibal Lecter or pretty much any “unidentified subject” on Criminal Minds fit this category. Generally these villains are seriously mentally ill and as such raise conflicting emotions of disgust and pity. I generally don’t enjoy encountering these villains in romance, although they exist.

In genres where pure evil or serious mental illness is hard to swallow, a more convincing villain is, frankly, a normal person. Someone who is so motivated by his or her own self-interest that greed, pride, envy or one of the other deadly sins guide their actions. Cercei Lannister, the Sheriff of Nottingham, Darth Vader and even Gru in Despicable Me can be lumped into this category. Sometimes this kind of villain can even garner the reader’s sympathy especially if they aren’t wholly bad. After all, cute little Anakin Skywalker is inside Darth Vader and Gru just wants to make his mother proud. I rather like it when a collective enemy winds up here as well. The fact is, faceless entities are actually comprised of people and sometimes good can be found in the vilest places.

So how does one handle a perfect villain? In my opinion, pure evil must be destroyed as happens to both the White Queen and Voldemort. Damaged villains too must be contained in some way, if not destroyed outright. However, there are many more options for the ordinary villain. Often they have simply gone too far and must be destroyed for me to gain closure. Sometimes they remain as lingering threats, only to wreak havoc again later. Occasionally, under the right circumstances they can be redeemed, like Darth Vader and Gru.

Who is your perfect villain and were you satisfied with what ultimately happened to that character?

I really love this one!

The release day for Highland Courage, March 3 is just around the corner and I am so excited. This time around I am not quite the same village idiot and I am busy planning launch events. As soon as details are solidified, I will post them here as well as on Facebook and Twitter.

That said, be sure to come back tomorrow. I will be revealing the video trailer for Highland Courage!

Ceci