Synopsis:
In 1780, Scotland, following a harsh year of drought, Callum
Mackenzie is forced from his father’s farm in the hopes of finding work.
But as fate would have it, Callum is lured onto the moors by
the will-o-the-wisp. Lost in the dark, he falls into enchantment, encountering
faeries and nymphs, until he stumbles into the arms of a licentious
Barrow-Wight who lays claim to his soul.
Hearing his silent pleas, Donal sends Liam the gruagach (faery)
to rescue Callum and bring him to his farm, a place of refuge from the Fae.
Callum is happy working on Donal’s farm, slowly falling in
love with the beautiful, silver-haired gruagach.
Yet there's something wrong in the nearby forest….
Despite Donal’s warnings, Callum is lured into the forest and
becomes tangled in its magic, easy prey for the Barrow-Wight.
Will Liam be able to strike a deal with the Barrow-Wight to
save Callum’s life, or has Callum found his last resting place instead?
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And now, here's the cover:
Excerpt:
CALLUM RAN UNTIL his lungs burned, every breath ragged and
painful. Fear spurred him on, though fog began to cling to the rough mounds of
the barrows, making such flight dangerous. Stones stabbed through his worn
boots with each footfall, but he daren’t stop. There had been voices in the
shadows….
Exhaustion slowed him, his chest heaving as he fought for air.
Dusk spread its dark mantle on the landscape, and he shivered as a finger of
dread traveled up his spine. Perilous to be on the moors at night without
shelter. He cursed the ill fortune that had sent him this way, but he was
hungry and ill. He’d followed the will-o’-the-wisp, thinking they were the
lights of a farmhouse. His brothers would crudely have called them swamp gas
and continued on the road, but Callum had always been the fool.
An owl hooted in the semi-darkness, making his skin crawl.
“Sweet Lord,” he muttered, heart thumping. “Protect me—”
He stumbled on a loose stone and fell heavily against a dark
mound of earth. Oh God! The ground caved in under him and he dropped
into the barrow in a shower of dirt.
“Save me!” he sobbed as he scrambled to his knees.
Sinewy arms reached up from the blackness and twined around
him. Callum screamed, but no sound escaped his throat, choked with terror. He
was yanked against a hard chest and hands ran over him, disembodied in the
darkness.
“Soft. Sweet.” A voice sliced the silence and a cold breath
washed over his face. He gagged on the waft of rot and decay. The tip of a dry
tongue scraped along his jaw and he shuddered against the body under him. “Nice
strong bones to gnaw,” the voice continued. “Sweet marrow to suck and swallow.
Shall I eat you, my lovely one?”
Callum whimpered as the low tones wound through his head. The
mists parted and moonlight filled the barrow, showing him the creature. He
gasped at the cold beauty of its face. Eyes dark as pitch burned into him and
brushed against his soul. Lush lips, dripping honey, overripe, took his mouth
in a kiss that sent his pulse into a riot of hunger and desire.
About the Author:
DIANNE HARTSOCK is the author of m/m erotic romance, both
contemporary and fantasy, the psychological thriller, and anything else that
comes to mind. Oh, and a floral designer. If she can’t be writing, at least she
has the chance to create through the rich colors and textures of flowers and
foliage to bring a smile to someone’s face.
Currently, Dianne lives in the Willamette Valley of Oregon
with her incredibly patient husband, who puts up with the endless hours she
spends hunched over the keyboard letting her characters play.
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