Today we have the wonderful Silver James sharing an excerpt with us! Really no other introduction is needed.
If you could go back, do it over again, would you take a chance to find true love?
What if you had no choice?
On her fiftieth birthday, the faerie send Rebecca Miller a thousand years into the past to find her happily ever after with Ciaran MacDermot, Chief of Clann MacDermot, the last Fenian warrior in his line. In the twenty-first century, Becca is old enough to be Ciaran’s mother. In the tenth, she’s young enough to be his bride.
The fae forgot to mention one slight stipulation. The lovers must be bound before the Festival of Light, or Becca will forever disappear into Tir Nan Óg, the faerie Land of the Ever Young.
Will they discover the binding words before time runs out and they’re torn apart forever? Or will their eternal love defeat their Faerie Fate?
Without the words, history is doomed to repeat itself.
SET UP: Becca, the heroine of FAERIE FATE, has been kidnapped by Manannán Mac Lir, one of the faerie kings. In this scene, she meets another faerie nemesis:
“Who are you?” She asked bluntly.
“I am Abhean,” he said. “Harper of the Tuatha dé Danaan.”
She glanced at the pipes. “I thought harpers played harps,” she replied caustically.
A sardonic grin split the faerie’s face. “A harper plays many instruments.” He took her hand and tugged her down to join him on the rock. He sighed, looking her over from top to bottom and back again. “Ah, cailín but I could play you like the finest instrument of all.”
One strong finger traced her cheek as he stared deeply into her eyes and saw the hunger, the longing that lurked in her soul. “But ’tis not me ’twill have the pleasure,” he added, the spun sugar in his voice no longer sweet but burnt.
“What is this place?” Becca didn’t feel polite.
Abhean sighed again. “Land of the Ever Young.” He tilted his head. “This should be a land of peace and joy for all mortals who find their way here. I fear ’twill never be so for you, cailín. Mac Lir thought to do you a favor when he brought you here. He did not want to return you to that other life, the one filled with pain and suffering. Without the binding, your heart would never be whole, so he sought to bring you what peace and solace he could.”
“He tried to seduce me.”
Abhean chuckled, but there was no mirth in the sound. “Nay, cailín. If he had truly meant to do the deed, he would have succeeded.”
“Not bloody likely.” Her lip curled into a silent snarl.
Abhean chortled, truly amused now. “Methinks Manannán Mac Lir underestimates you, Child of the Mortals.” He stared at her again. “Rebecca.” Her name dripped off his tongue like the finest melted chocolate. “Do you know what your name means, Child?” He took up his pipes and began another song, this one not quite so plaintive. He watched Becca out of the corner of his eye.
Becca stared off toward the misty, blue mountains, listening to the music. When Abhean stopped to catch his breath, she quizzed him. “Do you?”
“Do I what?” he countered.
“Know what my name means.”
“I never ask a question I dinnit know the answer to,” he answered cryptically in his sweet, lilting voice.
“So what does it mean?”
“Bound. Or chosen, if you like.” He put his full lips to the reed of the pipe and played again.
Becca gazed at the mountains, her chin propped in the palm of her hand. She glanced at the Harper out of the corner of her eye. A little smile tried not to twitch in the corner of her mouth. These faeries, or Sídhe, or Tuatha dé Danaan, or whatever they were called were an egotistical lot.
“If you are the Harper,” she prodded, “then you must know all the old tales?” She cocked her eyebrow at him, daring him to answer.
The Harper’s eyes glinted with mischievous lights, and he grinned down at the beautiful woman sitting at his feet. The puckish breeze teased her hair, wrapping a silken strand of it around his leg. He sighed. He understood now why the mortal wanted her so much, and why Mac Lir was so determined to keep her. Well, he had his own score to settle with Mac Lir. “Oh, aye, I know them all and wrote most of them,” he hinted.
“Then tell me a tale,” she challenged..
So what did you think? Did you like what you read? Interested in more? Ms. James is giving away one lucky commenter a copy of Faerie Fate – in either print or digital. Winner’s choice! Yay!