Annette Mackey's Blog

I spent nearly a decade researching, studying, writing, and rewriting The Forgotten Queen Trilogy.

In the process, I spent three weeks in England, walking historical sites, climbing through pastures, navigating fences and gates, and trudging across heavy sod and through hedgerows, often getting muddy up to my knees.

The torrential rain and wind along the cliffs nearly blew me over. The woods left leaves tangled in my hair. I climbed hilltops where the wind threatened to knock me off my feet. I was soaked through, freezing cold, and loving every minute of it as I hiked through those remote areas. My clothes were torn, and I even had to throw away my shoes and jacket before returning home!

I also explored museums all over England, attended Goddess Day in Tintagel, and visited castles associated with the legends of Camelot, including Winchester Castle.

My amazing hubby did the driving. (The truth is, I just couldn’t get the hang of driving on the other side of the road!) We traveled more than a thousand miles, and it was worth every moment. What an incredible time we had!

Here we are, halfway up the hill, climbing toward the Tor that overlooks Glastonbury. This hill plays a significant role in my books, and climbing it was such a pleasure! I had studied maps and agonized over the topography, trying to figure out where to place the ancient lake that exists in my novels. But actually climbing the hill and seeing the landscape with my own eyes was incredibly fulfilling.

In short, researching these novels was a dream come true! I suppose that’s why I love these books so much. They represent so much of my time, effort, and heart.

These books are intense. They will keep you up at night. They will break your heart.

Avalon isn’t just any character. She’s a powerful woman living in a time when women weren’t supposed to be strong. But she wasn’t just anyone.

She was forgotten by history, yet her story remains in the whispers that follow Camelot.

Arthur’s burial place was named after her.

She was his true love. The only one worthy.

And he was hers.

Avalon is The Forgotten Queen.

I decided I might start posting some of my book reviews on my website. Just for fun.

Die With Zero: Getting All You Can from Your Money and Your Life

My Review: Four Stars. I really wanted to give 5 stars, but there were too many things that I didn’t quite agree with.

Click here for a link to the book on Amazon.

Die With Zero interested me because the title seemed to go against almost everything I had been taught about money. I come from a very conservative upbringing where the message was simple: save, save, save. And in my own life, there have been times when those savings weren’t merely comforting—they were necessary. There have also been times when we saved so much that we didn’t really experience all that life had to offer.

So I tried to approach Bill Perkins’s argument with as little prejudice as possible. And while I didn’t agree with everything he had to say, I did find myself agreeing with some of his ideas.

But honestly, what is the point of having money if you never allow yourself to enjoy your life? And what is the point of life if you never really allow yourself to live it?

I agree that money is meant to be used for good. It should help our lives function, certainly, but it can also provide meaningful experiences and opportunities to connect with the people we love. Saving everything simply for the sake of saving can become its own kind of trap. There is a cost to being overly cautious. If we’re so worried about protecting ourselves from every possible future disaster that we never really live, we’ve lost something valuable too.

Where Perkins really began to lose me was when his philosophy seemed to assume a level of future financial security that not everyone will have. The idea that you shouldn’t worry too much about saving when you’re young and poor makes sense if your income eventually rises substantially. But sometimes it doesn’t. Sometimes the rainy day actually comes, and there is no safety net.

I’ve been through extremely difficult financial times, and I know the difference between wondering how you’re going to pay for what you need and having enough money to feel secure. I don’t take that security lightly.

Perkins also discusses extremely wealthy people who will never be able to spend their fortunes and questions whether they might have been better off working less and enjoying more of their lives. Perhaps. But I also think people get to decide for themselves what constitutes a meaningful life. Some people genuinely love building businesses, creating things, or working toward enormous goals. That creativity in business can be a beautiful thing too.

For me, ultimately, I do not actually want to die with zero. That’s cutting things a little too close. I don’t want to postpone every experience until some distant future either. But I also don’t want to spend my final years worrying that I might outlive my money.

Maybe that’s what I ultimately took from this book: neither extreme appeals to me.

Saving everything while continually postponing life isn’t much of a life. But spending as though the future will necessarily take care of itself doesn’t feel wise either. Somewhere between those two extremes is a balance—enough security that we aren’t living in fear of tomorrow, but enough willingness to spend our time and money that we aren’t afraid to live today.

Actually live. Go out and experience all that life has to offer. Interestingly, that’s also the big takeaway I got from another book, After by Dr. Bruce Greyson.

I didn’t agree with Bill Perkins on everything, but he certainly made me think. And perhaps that’s one of the best things a book like this can do.

That title might sound dramatic, but it’s completely true.

My husband and I drove to Cadbury Castle hill fort on Sept. 2, 2025. We had just finished a wonderful tour of Stonehenge. Having studied the navigation in advance, we knew it would take a few hours to get to the hillfort from Stonehenge, as there are no quick roads. England is full of tiny, hedged roads that look like they are barely wide enough for one vehicle (by American standards), and yet they are meant for two-way traffic. Needless to say, we did not drive very fast.

Our GPS had been prepared in advance, the route determined while still in the USA, just to be sure that we didn’t miss anything. And yet, when we arrived at the spot where the GPS said, “Arrived,” there was nothing there but a tiny dirt trail that looked like it belonged to the farmer, not the general public.

My husband doesn’t love hiking, so, as usual, he decided to stay with the car while I got out to investigate and walk the trail.

There were a lot of cows. That’s what really struck me once I got up the short burst of hillbank and onto the main pasture.

Now, my mother grew up on a ranch, and as a child, my family would go out for two weeks each summer. There we would enjoy life as if it were still, almost, frontier times. I had seen a lot of cows in those years of childhood. I had seen them up close, at a distance, in the corral, in the milk shed. I was not afraid of cows.

But… these were not my family’s cows. I was not on my family’s land. And I had not yet come to fully understand the do’s and don’ts of the English countryside, especially when it comes to venturing into traditional sites and whatnot.

I determined those cows would not stop me. After all, the tiny sign had said that this was indeed the path to Camelot. So I walked toward that barbed-wire fence with confidence, knowing I had been an expert at climbing through them as a teenager.

What I did not anticipate was that… I’m old now.

I thought I had cleared the barbed wire when, in fact, I had not. The wire caught my favorite jacket—down-filled, black, beautiful, and perfect.

Rip.

Now there were feathers flying out behind me, and my favorite jacket was ruined. And not only that. The cows began to bunch tighter and tighter together on the path in front of me, totally blocking the trail that ascended the hill.

Cold, damp, frustrated that I was scared of a few cows—my younger self would have slapped one or two on the butt and hollered for them to get out of the way. But my older, more-polite-even-to-cows self was too shy.

That honestly sounds soooooo dumb. What a chicken I was.

So I walked back to the car, and we drove down the lane looking for angles to get pictures of the hillfort, all the while my jacket was bleeding feathers.

Down feathers. Fine. Floating. Get-in-your-hair-and-up-your-nose feathers.

Thankfully, we found a lovely parking place that was actually meant for the hillfort and walked up the opposite side.

When we reached the top, it was glorious. I had not settled on an ideal location for Camelot, but I had done my research online. Everyone says that this is the spot, and it’s for a reason. As I ascended the hill, I knew the road to Camelot was perfect for my book. But when I reached the top of the hill fort, I was stunned. It truly looked like I had imagined my Camelot. It was more authentic than all the other sites we had seen so far. And it remained the undisputed perfect site, even after hiking all over Southern England.

But the most important moment for me was when I walked toward the northern wall and realized what I was seeing.

Avalon.

Camelot and Avalon are only 11 miles apart.

I determined to spend the rest of my research efforts on the history of the hill fort, specifically the Iron Age. I knew a lot about Cadbury Castle before I arrived. But after seeing it in person, walking it over and over—we went back three times—I knew this was the place.

I also knew something else. I had to include reality in my books. Feeling the air, the wind, the smells… Camelot had become real, and I had to make that reality part of the series.

My coat was destroyed. I tried to repair it with a sewing kit. My first attempt—the feathers kept peeking through. My final attempt—the feathers stayed inside, but the stitching was visible. I was sad. I gave the coat away.

Honestly, though, I still miss the coat.

BUT… would I do it again? Sacrifice the coat to find Camelot?

Absolutely.

Walking up the Northwest slope of the Cadbury Castle hillfort.

Last August/September (2025), my husband and I went to England to do research for The Forgotten Queen Trilogy. We rented a car, knowing that driving would be a bit of a challenge.

That was an understatement.

I could not get the hang of driving in England, which I did NOT expect to happen. Thankfully, my husband was a good sport and did all the driving for the weeks we were there.

It was like a dream to see things in person that I had only researched online. And the English love their history, so there’s a lot to see.

We drove all over the southern half of England, literally hitting as many villages and historical sites as possible. Which, by the way, there are no fast roads to get from Stonehenge to Cadbury Castle anyhow. Some of the roads are so narrow that barely one car can fit through at a time—and yet they’re two-way roads.

Don’t ask me how the lorries manage.

It was an intense trip, but so worth it. The people were kind, the places were fascinating, and the weather didn’t bother me a bit—except for when I got caught in a torrential rainstorm while hiking the cliffs near Tintagel.

Three miles in sheets of rain. Needless to say, I was soaked clear to my bones, and it took me several hours to get warm again.

However, I grew up in Seattle, so I’m quite at home in the rain. I was even glad of it. And it did rain a lot, especially in Cornwall.

Another reason England was so fascinating to me is because this is where many of my ancestors lived. More than half of my DNA ancestry estimate is English; the rest is Danish and Swedish. Going to England felt a little like looking through my ancestors’ eyes.

I found myself feeling totally connected to the land, as if long-ago grandparents were pointing out places for me to see, saying, “Don’t forget to look over here.”

Perhaps that’s part of why I’ve always been so fascinated by English history.

It wasn’t our first trip to England, but it was different this time. We were out walking, hiking, searching for Camelot… for Avalon.

Glastonbury Tor was everything I hoped it would be.

What surprised me was discovering that you can see Avalon from the top of the Cadbury Castle hillfort. I didn’t realize that until I was there.

I had hiked to the top of Cadbury Castle and turned around.

And there it was.

Avalon.

The home of my main character.

The place everyone has heard of, but no one realizes was named after my heroine… until you read the books.

Avalon is the forgotten queen, but once you read her story, you will never forget her.

And I will never forget England.

I would very much like to go back.

In the meantime, I frequently revisit this image that I took while walking the Road to Camelot.

Note: The keyboard songs are copies from the original show (2003). They may or may not have the correct titles labeled on them.

ACT ONE

1. Overture – following this song, the orchestra immediately begins “I am Laman/I am Nephi”

5. Scene Change 1 to 2

8. Scene Change 2 to 3

10. Scene Change 3 to 4

15. End Act One – play with the orchestra

ACT TWO

16. Up Act Two

21. Change Scene 6 to 7

24. Change Scene 7 to 8

26. Change Scene 8 to 9

28. Scene 9

Confession – I’ve been up to my eyeballs working as a music educator. Anyone who works in the public education system knows what I mean. There are days when I literally don’t have time to eat. Anyhow, I thought that my website could stand alone for a while, as it seemed to be self sustaining. Little did I know that it would totally crash last September (9/17). Yep. Down, down,… dooooooown it went into the eternal abyss of cyber-space. Thankfully the “Way Back Machine” stored most of the content. I was able to get a lot of things back online. The saddest part of this little story is that google had been picking up the content of my old website, listing my site first under many searches, especially “Music Rhythm Worksheets.” I don’t know if I’ll ever get that priority from google again, but I still wanted to get the content back online. So, from me to you, … Happy New Year, 2018. And a little prayer for all of the public education servants out there: may you have time to eat and use the bathroom.

Gluten Free Chicken and Dumpling Casserole

Oh boy, oh boy, we really love this recipe at our house.

1/2 Cup chopped onion

1/2 Cup chopped celery

1/4 Cup butter, cubed

2 garlic cloves, minced

1/3 Cup corn starch

2 teaspoons sugar

1 teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon dried basil

1/2 teaspoon pepper

4 Cups chicken broth

1 package (10 oz) frozen green peas or other vegetable of choice

4 Cups cubed cooked chicken (Oh, please cook/saute the chicken in butter. It will taste so much better that way.)

 

Dumplings

2 Cups gluten free biscuit/baking mix

2 teaspoons dried basil

2/3 cup milk

 

Directions

Preheat oven to 350. In large saucepan, saute onion and celery in butter until tender. Add garlic. Cook 1 minute longer. Add sugar, salt, basil and pepper. In separate bowl, mix cornstarch and broth. Add broth mixture to onion and celery mixture; bring to boil. Cook until it thickens. Stir in chicken. Bring to boil. Pour mixture into greased 9×13 baking dish.
For dumplings, in a bowl, combine baking mix and basil. Stir in milk with a fork until moistened. Drop by tablespoonfuls over chicken mixture.
Bake uncovered for 30 minutes. Cover and bake 10 minutes longer or until a toothpick inserted in a dumpling comes out clean.

Cheese Soup

 

I’ve made a lot of cheese soups. This one is my favorite.

Cori’s Cheese Soup

4 chicken bouil­lon cubes

1 qt. water on low

Dis­solve Cubes in Water.

Add to water and bouillon:

1 cup grated carrots

1 cup diced celery

1 cup chopped onion

1 1/2 cups cubed potatoes

Boil 15 minutes.

Add to Soup and cook for 15 miutes:

1 pkg Frozen chopped broccoli

1 pkg. frozen chopped cauliflower

Add

2 cans Cream of Chicken Soup

1 pkg (1 lb) Velveeta Cheese (cubed)

Cook until cheese melts, stir­ring to pre­vent scorching.

Soup freezes well.

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Just a reminder that today marks the 200th Anniversary of The Star Spangled Banner! On September 12, 1814, Francis Scott Key was held prisoner on a ship. During the rainy night, he witnessed the bombardment of Baltimore and observed that the fort’s small “storm flag” continued to fly. Once the shell and rocket fire stopped, smoke filled the air making it impossible to know how the battle had turned out. In the morning, he could see that the smaller storm flag had been lowered and a much larger flag had been raised. Although the large flag had been blasted until it was riddled with holes, it announced the American victory to the world. Key was so inspired by the sight that he wrote a poem on the back of a letter he kept in his pocket. That poem became our National Anthem.