It's summer on the Isle of Man and Andrew is looking for hot girls and good times. So when he meets the dreamy and seductive Margaid, he thinks he's hit the jackpot. There are only a couple of minor problems: Margaid lives in a cave under the sea, is invisible, and thinks that only Andrew's blood can save her from turning into a kelpie! But hey, whoever said love was perfect!?
Reviewed by Vee at NIGHT OWL ROMANCE BOOK REVIEWS
Review rating... 4.5 of 5 – An excellent Read
Margaid, a leanan sidhe, is supposed to kill men and drain them of their blood. It’s a job she finds abhorrent and has been avoiding her job and hiding in her cave for centuries. But Mannan, the Sea God (one of his many titles) is tired of her procrastinating and has vowed to turn her into a kelpie if she doesn't get on the task.
And so she's out, looking for the first guy she can find so she can kill him and fulfill her duties. He happens to be Andrew, an American tourist who's near-sighted and has lost his contacts. As it turns out this is a very lucky turn for him, because if a leanan sidhe cannot seduce a man, she cannot kill him, but must, instead, become his slave.
To throw a wrench into things, she's invisible to everyone but her owner. Sound like the perfect setup for a guy? Think again.....
A Fine Cauldron of Fish is hilarious. I laughed out loud several times through this story. Finding stories so creative and full of wit is a joy and I thoroughly enjoyed this one. If you like things a bit out of the ordinary and are in the mood for a fun light-heart read, then I recommend this. My only complaint is that it wasn't longer.
Before Margaid could answer, the guy shook his head at Andrew. "It's okay. You can keep my shirt. Although I don't know how you're holding it when your arm's about four inches away from it, but hey, I'm sure I simply had too much to drink. Keep it, that's fine."
"What? No, I don't want your shirt. Margaid, well she thought I wanted it, but-"
"No, don't let him go." Margaid shook her red head. "You do want his shirt. And you need his pants, too."
Before Andrew knew what was happening, she shoved the shirt into his arms. Then she turned back to the quaking man and grabbed hold of his waist.
"Oh, no, Margaid, don't do it." The moment Andrew yelled out, he knew she wasn't going to listen. He watched in utter horror as she unsnapped the poor man's jeans, yanked down his zipper, and slid his pants all the way to his ankles. Damn, I'm glad he's wearing underwear. Black boxers with writing all over them. What does that say? Andrew read aloud, "B is for big."