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Guest Post | Mistletoe – a mystic plant that marks the beginning of Christmas by Margaret Izard #mistletoe #guestpost #holidayromance #historicalromance #giveaway



Mistletoe – a mystic plant that marks the beginning of Christmas

 

Mistletoe is one of the most recognizable plants associated with winter and Christmas celebrations, but its significance goes beyond the seasonal tradition of kissing underneath it. Scotland, with its rich history of folklore, has its unique associations with mistletoe, entwined with ancient customs, mythology, and natural history. The story of mistletoe in Scotland weaves together Druidic traditions, Norse mythology, and even healing practices, making it a plant imbued with mystery and magic.

 

It only seemed natural when writing a Christmas novel in medieval Scotland featuring Mary and Roderick MacDougall, the couple in the past from my debut novel, Stone of Love, that mistletoe became a central focus in the story.

 

Ancient Beginnings: Druidic Traditions

 

Mistletoe has a long history in Celtic traditions, where the Druids highly regarded it. The Druids, the ancient priestly class in Celtic culture revered mistletoe as a sacred plant. Its ability to grow on trees without touching the ground gave it a mystical quality, which they believed connected heaven and earth. In particular, mistletoe that grew on oak trees was considered sacred and was the most prized.

 

The Druids believed mistletoe possessed healing properties, offering protection against poisons and bringing fertility. They often harvested it during rituals, especially around the winter solstice. The cutting of mistletoe was a ceremonial act: Druids would use a golden sickle, and the mistletoe would be caught in a white cloth to prevent it from touching the earth, which would supposedly weaken its powers.

 

Though much of Druidic practice remains shrouded in mystery, historians believe that their reverence for mistletoe spread throughout Celtic lands, including Scotland, which would come to adopt and adapt these traditions in various ways.

 

Norse Mythology and Scottish Influence

 

Norse mythology, which also left its mark on Scotland during the Viking invasions, tells one of the most famous mistletoe myths: the death of the god Balder. According to the legend, Balder’s mother, the goddess Frigg, made every living and non-living thing swear not to harm her son, but she overlooked mistletoe. Loki, the trickster god, took advantage of this and used a mistletoe spear to kill Balder. However, in some versions of the story, Balder is later revived, and mistletoe becomes a symbol of love and peace rather than a symbol of death.

 

This story likely contributed to the tradition of kissing under the mistletoe, representing peace and reconciliation. Although this practice is more widely associated with later Christmas customs, the lore of mistletoe as a plant of love and protection may have influenced Scottish customs, particularly in regions with Norse connections like Orkney and Shetland.

 

Mistletoe in Medieval Scotland

 

Mistletoe’s mystical properties also found a place in the medieval Scottish landscape, where people used the plant in folk medicine and superstitions. Scottish herbalists believed mistletoe could ward off evil spirits and prevent illnesses, especially during the dark, cold winters. Its evergreen nature made it a potent symbol of life and vitality during a time when other plants withered away.

 

In some regions, people placed mistletoe above doorways or in homes to bring good luck and protect against witchcraft. Scottish farmers might have used mistletoe to ensure a fruitful harvest or to protect livestock from illness. Even in marriage customs, mistletoe was sometimes used to bless a union, given its long-standing association with fertility and love.

 

Mistletoe in Modern Scotland

 

In modern times, mistletoe is not as common in Scotland as in other parts of the UK, such as England. Mistletoe traditionally grows best in warmer climates and is more commonly found in the south of the British Isles. However, environmentalists and botanists are trying to reintroduce and cultivate mistletoe in parts of Scotland for its ecological benefits and connection to Scottish heritage.

 

Despite this, mistletoe remains an enduring part of Scottish holiday celebrations, where it is associated with goodwill, love, and protection. Its rich history, deeply rooted in Celtic and Norse traditions, continues to evoke a sense of mystery and enchantment, keeping the lore of mistletoe alive in Scottish culture.

 

Ancient Celtic traditions, Norse mythology, and medieval folklore deeply intertwine the history and lore of mistletoe in Scotland. As a symbol of fertility, protection, and love, mistletoe’s evergreen presence during the coldest, darkest time of the year gave it a magical status that endures today. From its sacred role in Druidic ceremonies to its place in modern Christmas customs, mistletoe in Scotland continues to be a plant of mystery and celebration, reflecting the richness of the country’s cultural history.

 

Thistle in the Mistletoe

 

Thistle in the Mistletoe holiday lore focuses on the time between the Vikings and Medieval. The thistle represents Mary being forced into her clan’s enemy home while she and Roderick try to start a new happily married life. The mistletoe holds more meaning to Mary’s character. Mary’s mother held the plants’ lore and tradition close to her heart, from her Viking heritage and her mother’s love for the plant, which she passed down to her daughter. When faced with challenging times, Mary finds solace in decorating and the plants lore for her favorite holiday, the yule time, or as we call it, Christmas. From when her mother died at an early age to when the king forces her to marry her clan’s enemy, mistletoe is the one thing that grounds Mary and brings her joy. Mary is much like myself; I find the Christmas season brings peace, joy, and happiness. It was only natural for me to gift Mary with my personality trait, the love of decorating for the holidays. 

 

In our home, hanging the mistletoe and my husband’s kiss under it marks the beginning of the holiday season. Kissletoe crystal ornaments are a prominent decor in our house, so I chose the ornament version for my Thistle in the Mistletoe Book Swag Box gift to share our tradition with my readers.

 

I hope you’ve enjoyed the history of the mistletoe and how it inspired me to write Thistle in the Mistletoe, Christmas Companion to the Stones of the Iona Series.

 

The next release is coming very soon! Stone of Hope, book 4 releases January 13th, 2025, and Stone of Doubt, book 5 in the seven-book series, will come in 2025.

 

Check out my website www.margaretizardauthor.com, for upcoming events, interviews, and releases. While there, click on any fairy icon to see where she takes you!

 

Title Thistle in the Mistletoe

Author Margaret Izard

Genre Paranormal Romance Holiday

Publisher Wild Rose Press

 

Book Blurb

 

A kiss under the Mistletoe brings good fortune, but can a Christmas wedding stop a deadly feud?

 

The soft beauty beside him at the altar would make the perfect bride. Roderick MacDougall would do anything to stop the feud without more bloodshed. Too bad the gorgeous woman is the daughter of his greatest enemy who murdered his da. Trust in a Comyn is hard won, even if she tempts his senses.

 

Mary Comyn only wants to stop the wars and live a life of peace and goodwill. Tricked by her father and forced by the English king to marry her clan’s enemy, Mary fears she’s scarifying finding true love for peace. A Christmas wedding sounds romantic, but why would the handsome MacDougall laird, her greatest clan enemy, love her?

 

A man conflicted by duty charged to find peace. A woman whose father betrayed all. When betrayal looms from within, can enemies find love and forge a new future for both clans?  

 

Excerpt:

 

“Stop, don’t kill anyone.” Breaths echoed in the silent church as Mary’s heart lurched from her chest. A blade held at her father’s throat. Another at her clan’s long-time enemy, the MacDougall laird.

 

The newest laird stood proud, eyeing her from across the pulpit. He’d tied his jet-black hair in a queue at his nap leaving a lock that fell over his eye, making him seem handsome and vulnerable.

 

Damn him. She shouldn’t find her enemy attractive.

 

His expression held malice and disgust, reflecting her father’s. The expression the MacDougall wore, her father well earned. The glare her father settled on Laird MacDougall, she knew, was not.

 

She took a deep breath. “Certainly, there is some other way.”

 

The king’s agent spoke in a flat voice. “Marry, or they both die.”

 

Her gaze shot back to the MacDougall laird. While not old, he wasn’t in the budding of youth. His enormous frame filled out his clothing well, and the muscles on his exposed thighs flexed as he fought to remain still. Her eyes traveled back to his face, and his mouth quirked a half grin.

 

The king’s agent raised his hand, and Mary grabbed his arm. “I’ll do it. I’ll marry Laird MacDougall.” One of her mother’s saying echoed, a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step. One step toward peace, and it started with her.

 

The king’s agent chuckled. “Lass, you are the wisest in the room.”

 

She fingered her cross necklace, knowing a knife hid inside. But her pin knife, compared to the swords the king’s guards carried, remained useless. The moments before the confrontation ran through her mind.

 

Why was she here for a meeting between the king’s agent and her father? At Iona Abbey, of all places. Prior to entering, the king’s guards disarmed her and her father’s men. They wait, but for whom?

 

A scuffle from the back of the church alerted them that the guests they had waited for had finally arrived.

 

A long curse echoed in the sanctuary. “Son of a bitch, the Comyns.”

 

Mary turned, and the worst sight greeted her. Her clan’s long-time enemy stood at the back of the church. His plaid was similar to her Comyn’s, green and red. But the dominant color of the MacDougall’s was red, whereas hers had more green and blue.

 

Her eyes connected with the large warrior’s, much as they had weeks before in battle. She wasn’t supposed to be with the war party, but she came, the men needing her. Her father, too focused on the attack, didn’t notice or maybe didn’t care. She spotted the MacDougall on the ramparts as he called orders to his men, who responded as they tried in vain to protect their home. When his eyes found hers, they both stopped as the fighting continued. The blue of his eyes captured her. The intensity of his glare rooted her to the spot. She took a breath, then another, and he still stared as awareness washed over her. He’s your match, your soul mate. She shook the sensation off, breaking eye contact. When her gaze tried to find his again, he had gone.

 

Now facing him here, those deep blues eyes held her in place.

 

What did the king have in mind?

 

That was earlier; the memory rang in her mind as the surrounding people shifted and prepared for a wedding ceremony. Had she known this morning, today would be her wedding day, she would have prepared better. A blue handkerchief, a token for her shoe, her grandmother’s veil she’d kept wishing to wear it on her wedding day. Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue, and sixpence for her shoe. Silly, but traditions all the same.

 

Her eyes roamed the church. At least greenery decorated the pulpit and pews, ready for the Christmas season. If they hadn’t forced this upon her, she might find a holiday wedding romantic. She always wanted a husband, home, and children. Be careful what ye wish for, echoed—one of her mother’s sayings. Here she was, a bride-to-be only mere weeks after a bloody clan battle. The king threatened the two lairds to meet or die. Demanding Mary be present. She should have known this was not good. Nothing good came from the English king.

 

The reverend turned to his place before her, and her stare met Laird MacDougall’s again. His stern expression did nothing to calm her nerves, and the tick in his jaw reminded her of her father’s fast fists. She glanced at her hands as a shiver shook her body.

 

“Trust me, lass, this isn’t to my liking either,” the laird growled.

 

Her eyes shot to his, and she spoke without thinking. “Such romantic words from the groom.”


“Too bad that sharp tongue doesn’t match yer soft beauty. And here, I had hopes.”


Buy Links (including Goodreads and BookBub)

 

Buy my books here:  https://linktr.ee/mizardauthor

 

 

 

Giveaway -

 

Enter to win a holiday-themed bookish box of goodies including

 

Kissletoe Holiday Crystal Ornament (color may vary from picture)

Signed copy of book

Large Thistle in the Mistletoe book bag

Small Thistle in the Mistletoe book bag

Insulated wine glass with Thistle in the Mistletoe logo

Dublin shot glass with etched Thistle in the Mistletoe logo

Thistle in the Mistletoe bookmark

Thistle in the Mistletoe recipe card

Author pen

Wild Rose Press (publisher) 2025 calendar

Delivered in custom printed Margaret Izard Author Book Swag Box

 

 

Open to residents of the United States and Canada


Runs October 21 - December 18Winner will be drawn on December 19

 

Author Biography

 

Margaret Izard is a multi-award-winning author of historical fantasy and paranormal romance novels. She spent her early years through college and adulthood dedicated to dance, theater, and performing. Over the years, she developed a love for great storytelling in different mediums. She does not waste a good story, be it movement, the spoken, or the written word. She discovered historical romance novels in middle school, which combined her passion for romance, drama, and fantasy. She writes exciting plot lines, steamy love scenes and always falls for a strong male with a soft heart. She lives in Houston, Texas, with her husband and adult triplets and loves to hear from readers.

 

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