I write Regencies, but they have Celtic overtones.  Specifically, my series is about an alternate (paranormal) Regency era. King Arthur, that godlike Celtic leader of Britain, isn’t a myth. He is history. Arthur lived, Merlin lived, magic lives. That is the alternate reality I came up with for my Regencies.

The Celtic influence is subtle (except for swear words), but I pull out the stops with mysticism.

Druids were Celtic religious leaders. I have never met a druid, but I can imagine what a good one was like. Think of the charismatic preacher, how he flings emotion over his congregation.

Listen to him, BELIEVE in God.
FEEL God’s love.
KNOW that God is standing next to that preacher, filling him with holiness.

Now, change the word preacher to druid. 

BELIEVE in the gods and goddesses.
FEEL the Celtic virtues.
KNOW that the druid stands between you and oblivion.

In my first book, Round Table Magician, the characters have a picnic in what was a sacred Druid grove. The hero senses the echoes of ancient worship. That is the mark I imagine Celtic religion would leave on a place. Pagan, mystical, a bit wild by our standards -- as powerful as the charismatc preacher, though maybe more enduring.

Yes, I incorporate Celtic features in my books, but you have to dig pretty deep before you can point some of them out. The most elusive is the practice of magic. For my series, I twisted a Celtic concept until it is well-nigh unrecognizable to achieve my brand of magic.

What is the Celtic influence here? Like all good cultures, the Celts believed in magic. Unlike most groups, they thought the seat of power was in the head and they could steal it from another. Everyone had at least some power. So Celts went head-hunting. They didn’t scalp a victim – they removed the whole head to possess some poor guy’s power. That’s one way to get stronger, but I write romance, not horror. How was I to adapt this Celtic practice to a gentle Regency?

I went around to the back door.  Lots of people think magic comes from an outside source that the magician uses. It might be special words or some quality of the environment they manipulate to produce magic. But Celts were certain magic came from an internal source: the head.

To make my point, let’s talk about something mundane, like knitting – the process of making a sweater. Anyone can pick up two sticks and a ball of yarn and learn the stitches, but the doing does not make a recognizable sweater. A knitter uses the sticks and yarn to create a sweater that fits and looks good – something someone wants to wear. If you are all thumbs, you shouldn’t bother knitting.

That is what magic is like in my books. The magician has a talent – a capability he is born with – that allows him to produce magic. Like the knitter, he is naturally good at it. With practice, he can make a spell that fits and works well – a spell that is worth using. Without talent, the magic is minimal.

Err, talk about convoluted. Maybe you just have to trust me when I say that I used Celtic head hunting to dream up my brand of magic. BTW: Thwarting Magic's hero exemplifies the concept.

To me, the most fascinating aspect of the Celts is their folklore.

Pukas (however you want to spell the word) were Celtic fairies both loved and feared. Although encountering one would give me a heart attack, I wove that bit of folklore into one of my books. Round Table Magician’s heroine is mischievous – she inherited the trait from a Puka ancestor. You’d have to read the story to see how she handles her unruly genes, but Puka tendencies give her grief.

Then there is the Green Man, who appears in woodcarvings all over England, and is thought to be a Celtic god. Roll your eyes all you want; I would love to have a plaque of the hoary man with leafy hair. What does he do? No one knows, but he is a character in To His Mistress, my third Regency, and I know exactly what he is doing there. Dark, dangerous, and unpredictable, the characters in To His Mistress really should have been more deferential to him.

To His Mistress is closest to a traditional Regency if you ignore a few characters and their actions. But it is those few special characters who elevate the story from conventional to paranormal – who add the Celtic influences in the book.

Finally, there is the Banshee Brigade. In Irish legend, a banshee is a fairywoman who begins to wail if someone is about to die. It’s the wailing that caught my imagination. If you read Round Table Magician, you learn the origin of the nickname “Banshee Brigade.”

My fourth book, Keeper of the Grail, has the lowest number of Celtic references. Magic is well nigh hidden; unless you catch the nature of the Holy Grail, you might miss it altogether. Don’t be deceived.  If you are intrigued by mysticism. Celtic or otherwise, Keeper of the Grail is the book for you.