Irish Celtic historical romance of paranormal suspense, medieval folklore and erotic entanglements.
Download to your Kindle (eBook)
Darina O’Malley watched the sun set in the bay from the great tower in O’Malley castle – saying a silent prayer for her cousin Kyra and hoping the message that was delivered to the MacCahan’s did not spell sudden doom for her and her people. If what her Uncle Ruarc had told her was true, she was to be married to a stranger in nearly a fort night and her world would turn upside down.
The realization that her clan held secrets which could destroy them forever chilled her blood. Who was this son of a Laird she was betrothed to and how would he react when he learned the truth?
Burke Lands – Odetta’s Monastery
“Has he finally sobered yet?” asked Odetta to Easal.
“Enough I believe - but it took a lot of doing and most of the healer’s kudzu vine to get him there.”
Odetta stood beside Easal looking over the soaking wet body of Father MacArtrey that lay in a crumpled manner over the bench just outside the monastery garden.
“And what of this?” she inquired. Easal shrugged his shoulders, “He stank too much, and the healer refused us help lest we bathe him.”
“And his clothes? I realize it’s been raining, but he is soaked through and his boots as well.”
“They stank as well my lady.”
Odetta let out a cackling laugh that Easal was sure would wake the devil.
“What shall I do with him?”
“Wake him and take him to the altar. He will perform the rites tonight. Call for Naelyn and have her bring the others as well.
The sun had almost completely set and the only light to be seen came from the twin torches which were perched on either side of the altar hearth in the monastery. Odetta had the benches brought in and closed the tapestries over the windows so that the rain would not interfere with their task.
“Set to lighting the candles,” she instructed several young girls who sat in the back of the sanctum. “And move that chest to just below the window, stoke the fire - and Naelyn,” she interjected, “Don’t forget the cistern and holy water.”
“Yes, my lady,” replied Naelyn. “Shall you have need of the sacred dagger?”
“Aye, yes indeed. Bring the dagger of Teutates, it is necessary for the ceremony. Bring someone to wipe his sniveling face,” shouted Odetta as she motioned towards the young boy still tied to the altar pedestal.