Friday Teaser

Waking up this morning I glanced at my phone and saw a Facebook notification. The brief blurb mentioned that it was Friday and I was shocked. Friday? Already? Where had the week gone? So I thought how about an excerpt from The Beautiful Woman has Come? Sounds good to me!

Just a short lead in. Helen, now called Nefertiti, has been taking her evening meals with Great Royal Wife Tiye at the new royal palace across the river from the main town of Waset (I know, everyone calls it Thebes, but that's a Greek name and the Greeks only got to call it that when Alexander came and made Ptolemy Pharaoh!). In this excerpt, we will see SitAmun, eldest daughter of NebMaatRa and Tiye, and Auset, SitAmun's sister.

The Beautiful Woman has Come

by Debra Giuffrida

copyright 2016, all rights reserved

My days spent here in Waset were long, hot and devoid of entertainment. Auset had not requested my company nor had anyone else of the royal family, for that matter. So I sat either in my bedchamber or under the sunshade within the family garden.

The evenings I shared my meal with the Great Royal Wife in her garden within the House of Rejoicing. Tiye had taken it upon herself to be my educator in all things political. Some nights Auset and her companion Ana would join us. These nights were some of the most pleasant. Tiye would always request Auset sing for us. I had been correct. Her voice was lyrical and with good range and power when needed.

All the women in attendance would fall silent listening to the King’s daughter sing of unrequited love, new love, lost love, and gods and goddesses. Ana would accompany her on the lyre and the two made a pretty pair sitting within a circle of lamplight.

One evening Sitamun came. Accompanied by several young girls and an older woman, she walked over to one of the couches and sat. Immediately two of her attendants ran and fetched their mistress a golden chased goblet and filled it with wine from off Tiye’s table. This elicited a shocked reaction from the Great Wife’s table servant. The young girl sucked in her breath and her eyes grew round and wide.

“Em hotep, daughter,” Tiye said walking into the room. Sitamun watched her mother sit on the largest pillow-strewn couch.

“I was lonely and wanted company for the twelfth-hour meal,” Sitamun replied to an unspoken question.

“You are always welcome here, Sitamun.”

“Nefertiti,” Sitamun turned her kohl-rimmed eyes in my direction. “Do. You. Understand. What. I. Am. Saying?” Her staccato words were punctuated by a brief tight smile.

“She is very conversant, you may be assured she understands you.” Tiye took a long drink of wine from an offered electrum goblet all the while looking at Sitamun over the cup’s rim. “Now, what really brings you here?”

“I told you, mother, I was lonely. Moses is still in MenNefer and I needed some entertainment. Is Auset joining us? I do so enjoy her singing.” Another tight smile but this time she ended it with a sip of wine. Sitamun’s girls bustled around gathering plates of food for their mistress. The older bent back woman stood at the King’s daughter’s elbow and glared at each of the girls, occasionally pointing a long nailed finger by way of direction.

“Auset is in the middle of a new weaving and she declined my open invitation.”

“Oh. Nefertiti, do you sing?” Sitamun took a piece of roast duck from an offered plate and tore tiny pieces from the slice, putting each into her mouth, chewing slowly, her unblinking eyes staring at me.

“No, I am afraid that my voice is far from sweet. My talents lay elsewhere.”

“Then where do your talents lay...cousin?” She tore another piece of duck and popped it into her mouth.

“I enjoy athletic games, running the stade—,”

“Stade? What is that?” Another piece of duck disappeared into Sitamun’s mouth.

“That is a distance, I am not sure of the Kemeteyu equivalent. I run with other girls. The fastest wins. What are your talents...cousin?” I felt no familial love for this Aegyptos King’s daughter. Tiye sat quietly listening to our exchange. I glanced at her and saw her bite her lip and sniff, possibly to cover a smile.

“My talents?” Sitamun raised an eyebrow, then ran a hand down her sheer linen over robe, “I am King’s daughter, beloved of my father, wife of the iry pat Djehutymose, my talent will be to provide the next son to sit upon the throne of Heru.”  

This statement caused Tiye to glare at her daughter. What was it that elicited such a response from the Great Royal Wife? Surely she knew that Sitamun was to be a royal broodmare.

“You will have ample time to accomplish that feat, my dear. My son’s barge was sighted and should be at the water steps some time after Ra is born.”

Sitamun stood up and dropped the remaining tiny piece of duck.

“How long have you known? Why did you keep this from me?”

“Are your spies lacking, daughter? I would acquire new ones if I were you. Your father’s new Royal Wife from Naharin is aboard.”

Sitamun’s eyes grew large, narrowed into slits, and she glared at her mother. Without a word she turned her back and walked out of the room, her head high, shoulders square, her followers hurrying their steps to keep up with their mistress.

“Well, now, Nefertiti, how have you been occupying your time? Are you learning some of our old stories? Is Huya still teaching you?” she took a sip of wine, then handed the goblet to the girl close at hand.

I looked from Sitamun’s retreating back to Tiye.

“Close your mouth, my dear. Sitamun is a jealous girl. NebMaatRa’s new child bride will keep her busy and out of your business. You can thank me later.”

“I am not sure I follow, why is Sitamun possibly jealous of her?”

“The concubines and wives of the Son of the Sun will become those of the next Son of the Sun. The younger and prettier ones are a threat to my daughter. Do you understand?” Tiye took a rolled lettuce leaf from an offered platter. She eyed it, turning it about. “Where is the boy?” All was quiet for several beats of my heart. A small boy was brought forth. Tiye smiled at him and handed him the lettuce bundle. The boy looked up at his nurse who nodded her head and also smiled. Only then did the boy take the offered food from the queen.

The child was a poison tester.

I found myself holding my breath, waiting, as we all were, for the boy to live or die. He did not die, this time. When the nurse made to take him away Tiye shook her head and motioned for him to sit beside her chair. Tonight he would test everything for the queen.

Perhaps she felt ill at ease due to Sitamun’s unannounced visit? Or were there others that wished this Great Royal Wife ill? My stomach clenched and I thought better of eating here in Tiye’s garden.

She must have felt my trepidation. Tiye only allowed me to eat after the boy had tested the food upon her platters. Even so, I ate very little but drank far more of the Per A’a’s wine than I should have.

***

Have a lovely weekend. See you back here Monday!

Shine On Award

What a wonderful thing to happen today. I looked at my blogs and found that I had missed a nomination! What fun! Wonderful, brave, and talented Jo Murphy nominated me for the Shine On Award. The logo is below, as are the rules for the recipient and my revelations and my own nominations.

Here are the Rules:

1. Display the award logo on your blog.
2. Link back to the person who nominated you.
3. State 7 things about yourself
4. Nominate 15 other bloggers for this award and link to them.
5. Notify those bloggers of the nomination and the award requirements. 

Seven things about myself: 

1. I taught myself to read using My Book House books. They were a series of wonderful books that was a part of World Book Encyclopedia. My parents had purchased them when I was born. The story that I read all by myself at the age of 3 and a half was The Little Red Hen.
2. I have wanted to be when I grew up (in order): A horse, the first female jockey, the first female astronaut, a radio announcer, an interpreter, a poet, a professional artist, a Disc Jockey, an author of romance novels, a horse trainer, an author of historical novels. 
3. My occupations included: Bank Vault Teller, Disc Jockey, Bartender, Pastry Chef, Short-Order Cook, Horse Barn Manager, Professional Dressage Groom, Graphic Designer for a XXX movie company, Administrative Assistant to various forms of business, Faux Finish Painter, House Painter, Portrait Artist, T-Shirt Designer, computer programmer, marketing assistant, insurance sales person, car sales person, and now would be author.
4. I have been writing one of my current WIP for 7 years.
5. I currently am the caretaker of a beautiful blue merle collie, a Bengal-cross (I think) cat, two Arabian geldings and 8 chickens, 3 of which are little red hens!
6. I have been married once, divorced and am currently living in sin with a man for the past 17 years...I think. 
7. While doing research for my current work in progress "The Beautiful Woman has Come" I found out that my name, Debra, may have its roots in Ancient Egyptian and instead of meaning The Bee in Hebrew it  is from the word for Hippopotamus, which is dby (or Debbie!) in Ancient Egyptian! How rude!

Well that sums up 7 things about me. 

Now to the nominees!

1. Stephanie Thornton
2. Diana Wilder
3. Lavender Ironside

I know that isn't very many nominees, but I realized that my blogfriend Jo nominated most of the blogs I follow! Go figure *smile*. Anyway the three ladies that I did recognize are fellow authors of Ancient Egyptian fiction so they are near and dear to my heart. They all have novels that just came out and are available on Amazon and all three are excellent reads. I would suggest you high tail it over to Amazon and buy them. Yes, right now. *smile*

Once again, thank you Jo, you are my hero.

A Bit of Romance

To day I will be working on my plot structure for my Historical Romance titled "Unquiet My Heart." This is proving a daunting task. I don't know what is going to happen past their meeting and falling in love! I can't believe I am stuck! This is awful and I really thought that with my heroines new 'abilities' I could get a handle on this story and move it along lickety split, but that is not the case. Or, and this is probably a better excuse, I am swimming around in a brain fog this morning and can't think past feeding animals and drinking a cuppa.

So I must unfog myself. How do I do that? Do I go work out and hope that exercise with get the cranial blood flowing? Do I jump on the internet and hope that someone else has a blog post that will turn on the creative switch? All of the above?

In my last blog post I included a snip from my other work in progress and it felt good to get it out there. That one is stalled too, by the way. But it is only stalled because I have to figure out if I am going to go for the conventional publishing route or if I am going to go with Amazon, self publish and hope for the best. I like the idea of 70% return on my dollar but I need the conventional publishing worlds machinations; the editors, the designers, the publicists and all that wonderful marketing. I am at a crossroads.

So today I am going to drop in a little snip from my romance. The two have met already but my heroine didn't know who my hero was until just before this scene. In fact when she found out she hated him for not revealing his identity. What she really hated was the fact that she couldn't read his mind nor figure out his feelings like she could everybody else and this threw her for the proverbial loop. She hasn't quite got past that but the emotional and physical attraction eased her anger and soon they were kissing and they almost made love. They were interrupted by my heroines brother who was outraged and my hero departed frustrated and angry.

So this is that same day, but late at night, just before dawn of the next day. Both the hero and the heroine are staying at the palace as guests.

Unquiet My Heart copyright Debra Giuffrida 2012

Golden is she

Who greets the dawn

Her breath sweet

Cool limbs entwine

We rise as one.

Prince NakhtSet, General

My sleep was restless, I dreamt of her. Awaking, the dreams images faded on the nights breeze which ruffled the linen drapes protecting me from biting insects. Quickly I sat up on the edge of the sleeping couch pushing the drape aside, my feet hitting the cool tile on the small chambers floor.

Since the last flooding I had awoken in many strange beds, some just woven mats in musty tents. As a solider I didn't complain, hastily set camp beds were my usual resting place. This one here, under the hospitality of the Good God, was better than most, but it was still a strange bed.

My hair was damp with dream sweat, I ruffled it then drug a hand over my stubbled cheeks and chin. The thought of her lingered in my heart just as my fingers and lips still carried her perfume, the feel of her silken skin. I groaned and rose. YaYa was snoring at the beds foot. I stepped over him and walked out into the courtyard beyond my chamber.

Khonsu was low in the night sky, just a slice of the god remained giving off little illumination. Windows and open doorways glowed faintly around the perimeter of the garden adjacent to my chamber, a reminder that I wasn't alone. It was quiet, though, only the splish of fish within the small central lotus pool making a meal on a predawn hatch of insects and the crackle of palm fronds  disturbed the stillness.

A puff of breeze rose goose flesh on my naked body as the sweat dried on my skin. 

I didn't see her until it was almost too late. Tashi was leaning against an acacia tree, a soft looking shawl covering her slender body. She was facing away from me. 

I left that day for MenNefer.

WIP

I have been complaining about having to retranscribe my current work in progress. I really shouldn't complain. This is an opportunity to review my hits and correct my misses. In fact, it has given me the opportunity to realize that I have to slash and burn a lot. And I mean a lot. But that's OK, I'm cool with that. It is an chance to rediscover my characters and also to crack my 'tough nut'. My favorite author, Diana Gabaldon, had a few of those, so she says. In fact one of her principle characters was a tough nut. It happens to be one of my favorite characters in her books...Brianna. So if Diana can crack her tough nut and hit one out of the park, maybe I have a chance.

Anyway, I have decided to share my new journey with Unquiet My Heart by posting a snippet of my daily writings. Hopefully it will get around and more people will come over and see what I have to say. Not that I don't mind if it's quiet here. I like quiet. It's just that now and then I want to know that I'm not all alone.

So without further ado here is this weeks snippet from my other WIP, House of the Rising Sun.

House of the Rising Sun copyright Debra Giuffrida 2012

It has been a point of research that of all the Pharaohs that followed Akhenaten, Horemheb hated him the most. I have puzzled over this as to his motives. To so completely destroy the burial goods and to adze (an ancient implement much like a pick) out carvings of both Akhenaten's visage and name every place that it occurred was an act of a hateful and vengeful man. This got me to thinking. Horemheb was a scribe of the military and the ruling family that had control of the military were from the town of Akhmin. This was Tiye's family. Tiye was Amenhotep III's Great Royal Wife. Her father was Yuya and his titles included High Priest of Min, Commander of the Pharaoh's Chariotry and Lord of Akhmin. So that put Horemheb in contact and under the thumb of Aye, who was the son of Yuya, the brother (hypothesized) of Tiye and (hypothesized) the father of Nefertiti (who marries Akhenaten). This in itself would not make Horemheb hate Akhenaten unless Akhenaten did something to Horemheb either knowingly or by accident. I think is was a little of both. So without further ado, here is my hypothesis.

Horemheb ~ Scribe of Recruits Division of Chariotry

Waset

  She came down to the royal stables nearly every day. I couldn't help watching her. Young, slender, always smiling and totally oblivious of me. The rest of my fellow scribes watched her too, poking each other in the ribs, rolling their eyes and whispering comments behind their hands. I didn't join in. It wasn't proper, she was the granddaughter of the Commander of the Royal Chariotry and the niece of the Per A'a, not in our class at all. But that didn't stop the others. It made me sick to be near them. I usually picked up my pallet, reed case and mat and left them, muttering an excuse that I was sure they either didn't believe or didn't care enough for it to matter. 

     Today was different. My frown turned to one of surprise when I nearly ran into Commander Yuya as he rounded the building's corner.

"Hold on, neb, what is your hurry?" I dropped my pallet and reed case as the Commander grabbed me by the shoulders more to keep himself on his feet than to help me.  Yuya looked me in the eye then smiled. "Horemheb, just the neb I needed," he released my shoulders and took a step back looking me up and down. "Have you forgotten how to handle a chariot?" he asked and I was sure he was ready to reach out and pinch my upper arm to test the muscle. "If I remember you were the best of my young recruits."

     

   "Yes Commander, I mean no I haven't forgotten," I faced the Commander and stood square. Yuya slapped me on my shoulder and laughed.

    "Good, then come I have a job for you," he left me to pick up my scribal kit and follow.

  From a narrow window high up in the dim stables a shaft of brilliant sunlight illuminated her.  Nefertiti stood next to a copper colored stallion rubbing its face with a linen rag and it sounded as if she was singing to it. 

"Nefertiti, stop that noise, I've told you before not to sing to my horses. Come here, benerib, I have a task for you." Nefertiti looked in our direction then handed the stallion and the dirty rag to a stable boy then wiped her hands on the dark red sheath that covered her slender body. She walked towards us, her hips swaying back and forth, back and forth. 

"But he likes it when I sing to him, WerAt," Nefertiti wrapped her arms about her grandfather. The old man smiled but gently removed her arms one at a time.

   "This neb is going to teach you to drive a chariot, listen to him, benerib," Commander Yuya took Nefertiti by the upper arm and propelled her in my direction. Her look of amazement must have been mirrored on my face because hers disappeared and was replaced with a smile and a cocked eyebrow. I felt my face burn and looked down at my bare feet.

     "I already know how to drive a chariot," Nefertiti sniffed and I looked up and saw her lower lip shoot out in a pout. I couldn't stop myself from staring at her.

     "I have seen how you drive and no, you do not know how. This neb will show you the proper way, am I right?" This last was directed at me and with a swallow I tore my gaze away from Nefertiti and looked at Commander Yuya.

     "Yes, Commander, if my father had not wanted me to be a scribe I would be a maryannu," I said with pride. The Commander sniffed and with pressed lips nodded his head.

    "Very well, show her and you will be rewarded," the Commander walked away leaving Nefertiti in my care.

     "I already know how to drive a chariot, neb, the Horus Djhutmose showed me and he is the best in all of Kemet."

     "Of course," the Horus Djhutmose was the best driver,  "maybe I can teach you something else. Have you ever ridden a horse astride?" The gods had given me a chance to spend time with this girl but it was up to me to make the most of it. Nefertiti brushed an errant strand of shiny black hair out of her eyes. Those eyes, they were the color of a jar of beer.

   "Astride? What do you think I am? A royal messenger?"

     I had been dreaming of her wondering what she would smell like and her harsh statement made me cringe.

     "No, but you will be able to do something no one else can do. Come, I know of just the horse to use," I turned, hoping she would follow me.

     "But don't tell anyone, I don't want them to laugh at me."

     I couldn't help but smile.

***

The mare I sought stood with her companions under a date palm swishing at flies with her long white tail. She cocked an ear in my direction as we approached.

"She's fat and old. Do you expect me to ride her?" Nefertiti came to a stop. 

"She's not fat she's heavy with foal. Her name is Mut, and she was the first horse I ever rode." I ran my hand along her neck feeling her silken hair coat under my fingers. Mut nickered and nuzzled my chest with a firm puckered lip. 

"She remembers you," Nefertiti said coming up alongside me putting her hand on Mut's neck next to mine. Mut lowered her head and searched the dirt for anything she could find imagined or real. Nefertiti ran her hand from Mut's withers on down her rounded side. "Oh, I just felt the foal kick! Oh Horemheb, I can't ride her."

She spoke my name. My heart swelled with love for this girl but just as it was about to burst I remembered who I was and who she was. I searched her face for any indication that she felt for me as I her but saw only pity for the old gray mare. A deep sigh escaped my lips and I turned to face Nefertiti.

"Mut would be happy to carry you, she is kind and gentle and you will not hurt her or her foal. Here, let me help you up." I laced my fingers and bent over. Nefertiti stepped back. "Come on, Mut is agreeable now, but she is not a patient beast." Nefertiti cocked an eye at me, lifted her sheath around her thighs and put her foot on my laced fingers. With no effort I lifted her up onto Mut's back. The mare raised her head and pinned her ears, raising her upper lip and exposing ivory colored teeth.

"Grab hold of her mane, Nefertiti, with both of your hands." Just as the words came out of my mouth Mut took off at a fast trot bouncing Nefertiti up and down.

"Make her stop, make her stop," Nefertiti cried. Visions of my nose being removed from my face flashed before my eyes and I took off after the pair. Mut didn't go much further. Nefertiti bounced two more times and started to slide off the mare's back. Mut came to an abrupt stop and Nefertiti pitched forward onto the mare's neck. 

I came up to the pair and expected to find Nefertiti mad or crying or both but she was laughing, wide eyed and laughing, her hands still buried within the mare's long, silken mane.

"Are you injured?" I asked fearful of her reply.

"No, I don't believe so," she frowned, looked about then smiled at me.

I reached out for her and Nefertiti let go of the mares mane and allowed me to help her dismount. She faced me. We were a hands breath apart, her nose almost touching my chin. My heart beat so hard within my breast I was sure that she heard it but I couldn't stop it nor could I stop myself from kissing her on the lips. With a sharp intake of breath Nefertiti stepped away from me. I opened my eyes, I hadn't realized they were closed, and saw her touching her lips with her fingers, her eyes wide.

My life was over.

Different Decisions

Two different novels, two different feelings, one decision. OK, which is the better book? Which do I like better, whose characters do I feel more sympathetic towards? Ack! I need advice and know not where to turn. I feel that I am imposing on anyone when I ask advice. When I read my work to my mother she scrunches up her face into this tight fist and acts as if I am speaking in a language better left for dogs. Also, the story is not about her so why should she listen after the first sentence anyway? Even when it is about her she seems distracted with her own memories. *Sigh*

Lauren Haney is the author of a series of mysteries set in the 18th Dynasty of Ancient Egypt. Her main character is Lt. Bak. She was lucky enough to have a mentor in Dennis Forbes the publisher of KMT magazine. I wish he were my mentor... Another wonderful person is Stephanie Thornton. She just recently had her book picked up by a publisher (actually several publishers bid on the right to publish her books! Woo Hoo! Steph!!!) and she would be a good person to read my tomes, but alas... I feel that she is reluctant due to the fact that she has had to suffer through my writing on Panhistoria. Suffer through... yeah, I don't think much of my writing, do I?

Last but not least is another Panhistoria chum. But I feel he has too many eggs in his basket as it is, adding my omelet would be too much to ask him. Hmmm, there might be one more person to ask. Hey, what is the worst she can say? No?

I just recently dumped a chunk of my Amarna book on an unsuspecting writers forum. I got two critiques, one from a lover of Ancient Egypt and the other by a man who knew not what the heck I was writing about. The first liked my style but thought the chunk needed a chunk of work. The other didn't like my main character and thought the story was hooey. So, there you are, two opinions. *Sigh*