St Peter's Gate

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Sandra Wagner-Wright

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Saxon Heroines

Literature & Fiction

synopsis

Synopsis
Seventh century England is a hodgepodge of warring Anglo-Saxon states filled with shifting alliances and treacherous grabs for royal power. Kings rise and fall, depending on Woden's Luck. Northumbria, the damp kingdom north of the River Humber, is a state riven with rivalries and kings determined to expand at any cost. Women have no obvious role in a warrior society, but by using their wits, four women—two queens and two abbesses—make monumental changes. One woman marries a pagan king and successfully converts him to Christianity before he dies in battle. One becomes the most powerful abbess in Northumbria and holds the Great Synod at Whitby Abbey, which brings the kingdom back to the Roman Church. Another becomes queen and keeps political alliances strong despite different religious denominations. The fourth woman ushers in a new age by negotiating with kings and churchmen to establish one united church in the Northumbrian kingdom. Based on true events and people, this is the story of Northumbria through the eyes of the most important women of their time.

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Author Biography

Sandra writes historical fiction. Her latest book, "Ambition, Arrogance & Pride" focuses on 18th century Salem MA. Sandra also blogs about history, travel, and other topics that catch her attention. For more information about Sandra, visit her website https://www.sandrawagnerwright.com

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Author Insight

St Peter's Gate

Watching King Oswy's coffin being loaded onto a cart, Abbess Hildeburg sees an era pass before her eyes. The man who made bargains with God and built his family's crypt at her abbey would now lie within it. The king who ruled like a force of nature stood at St Peter's gate. No doubt Hildeburg wondered if Peter agreed to let him into heaven because the king chose the Roman church over the Columban. Indeed, how could he refuse?

Book Excerpt

Saxon Heroines

I lean on my staff, holding it firmly while the sea below roils with high waves and misty rain swirls around me. The damp penetrates my clothing and pulses through my bones. I focus my eyes on the shore below, determined to see Oswy’s coffin loaded onto the wagon.

It’s impossible to believe a man so blustery, conniving, and vibrant died in his bed. In January, King Oswy and Bishop Wilfrid busily planned a visit to Rome in the spring. As if God personally disapproved, the king fell ill and died without warning.
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