Medieval England Two Pack

Child of Eynhallow | Tristin and Isolde

Child of Eynhallow

In the early part of the twelfth century in the northernmost reaches of Britain, Maya and her sister Alis live at peace on the Holy Isle of Eynhallow – until they are forced to flee from invading conquerors. They hide in the city of York until Maya is accused of witchcraft.

Child of Eynhallow mostly tells of Maya’s beautiful and spirited granddaughter Isabel, who grows up as an outcast in her village and runs away before her father can sell her for twelve shillings. In this sweeping saga of courage and loyalty, Isabel confronts the brutal realities of medieval life, discovers her heritage, and finds love.

Tristin and Isolde: A Retelling of the Legend

Here is the story of Isolde, a beautiful Irish princess, and the two men who love her – the splendid King of Cornwall and his nephew Tristin, a knight torn between loyalty and passion. Start reading and discover the power of this timeless legend, the quintessential medieval love story, as retold by Anne Kinsey.

Start reading Child of Eynhallow:

Chapter One

On a summer evening in the year of grace 1143 when the day’s work was finished, twelve-year-old Isabel and her cousin Meg ran from the village to play under the waterfall at the edge of the woods. They ran along the muddy ditch which separated the garden plots from the open fields, their bare feet sinking into the soft, receiving earth. With a running dive, they splashed into the water. The pool was delightfully cool and clear, the air charged with the twilight magic of the setting blood-red sun. The waterfall’s steady rhythm pulsated with life, as comforting as a heartbeat. The deep spray of water caught the sunlight and turned into a cascade of glittering diamonds.

“Look what I learned,” Meg said. She lifted her knees to let the water fall between her legs. “It’s great fun. You try.”

Isabel moved to sit near Meg where the soft rock formed a seat at the edge of the waterfall, where the stream was gentler.

“Like this,” Meg said.

Isabel lifted her knees as Meg was doing. The water flowed over her belly and between her legs.
“What about it?” Isabel asked.

“Just wait,” Meg said. “It will happen.”

Isabel waited. Nothing happened.

“Well?” asked Meg. “Did you feel it?”

Wanting to please Meg, Isabel lied. “Yes,” she said.

“Doesn’t it feel amazing?” Meg’s cheeks were flushed bright pink.

“Oh, yes,” Isabel lied again. “Amazing.”

Next afternoon, because Isabel was curious and felt loyal to Meg, she returned alone to the waterfall to see if she could find out what Meg had been talking about. She settled into the soft reclining rock in the shallow water. Lifting her knees, she leaned back and enjoyed the gently pulsating rush of water. The soothing water soon lulled her and her thoughts drifted lazily. Then, what started as a slight tingling sensation between her legs changed to a vibrancy that spread up her spine. The sensation built to a feverish explosion, making her twitch and shudder with a pleasure she felt all through her limbs, leaving her breathless and astonished.

Meg was right.

Next time Isabel and Meg were at the waterfall, after both had a chance to sit on the reclining rock, Isabel said, “Did you tell your sisters about this?”

“No,” Meg said. “I’m afraid they’d laugh.”

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