Twice each year, Aine Murphy ventures into the woods to hold ceremonies to honor the Oak King and the Holly King, never dreaming these Lords of the Forest could be anything more than myth. When the legends spring to life in front of her, how can she help but fall for the sexy demi-gods she's loved all her life?
From midwinter to midsummer, Fionn O'Dair rules the Greenworld as the Oak King--a role he feels is beyond his abilities, and one that dooms him to a loveless future, forever craving the one man he can never allow himself to have. How can he resist what Aine offers--the sweet devotion that soothes his aching soul, and the slim chance to live a "normal" life as her husband, if only for half a year?
Holly King Kieran Mac Cuilenn never desired a human lover--until now. Seeing Fionn and Aine together fills him with longing for the love he threw away and awakens feelings he thought he'd buried with the last Oak King. Is there enough magic in the solstice to correct the mistakes he made years ago? Or is he doomed to be forever left out in the cold?
Excerpt:
At the time of the summer solstice
The Holly King was not happy.
Kieran Mac Cuilenn, Lord of Misrule and Ruler of the Waning Year, had been
awake since before the dawn, intent on making the most of every last minute of
freedom before his six-month reign began. He was also eager to be reunited with
his lover, if only for a few short hours. But the day was swiftly passing, and
the Oak King had yet to make an appearance. This made the third time since
sunrise that Kieran had climbed to the top of this lonely hill to stand beside
the Oak King’s tree, to lay a hand against the oak’s rough bark and whisper
words of encouragement. But, just like the last two times, his pleas went
unanswered. Naught but the faintest of pulses emanated from within the massive
trunk, letting him know that his friend and lover continued to slumber.
“Damn you, Rory,” Kieran grumbled as
worry and disappointment ate away at his temper. “What ails you? Why won’t you
wake up?” He struck the tree with his fist, feeling more like a petulant child
than a mature dru just settling into
midlife.
He sighed in exasperation. Every
summer it grew harder to coax the older tree spirit from his tree. At this
pace, it would not be long before the only time they saw each other was at the
winter solstice, which was under Kieran’s control. If that was to be the way of
it, he was half-tempted to play the same sort of game this next December.
Why should he not pay
Rory back in kind for worrying him so? But he knew he would never carry through
with the threat. Their time together was already so short; anything less was
unacceptable. All the same, however, something
would have to be done. Kieran had been as patient as he knew how. The time had
come for action.
“I’ll be back soon, you old goat,”
Kieran promised, dealing the heavy trunk another sharp blow. “And, when I
return, I will have you out of there if
I have to set fire to your roots to do so.” Then he turned and headed back down
the hill, a foggy idea already beginning to take shape.
He’d tried soft words and sweet
enticements—they hadn’t worked—and Kieran was no longer in the mood for gentle
coaxing. He would find another way to rouse Rory and draw him forth. All he
needed was the proper goad, something to ignite the Oak King’s passion and
force him from slumber. But what?
He’d gone no distance at all before
the exact thing he needed appeared to him in the person of a handsome young dru
lurking in the shadows of the trees adjacent to the path Kieran trod.
Kieran’s footsteps slowed. The lad
was vaguely familiar, though Kieran did not know him by name. Something about
the self-conscious expression on the youth’s face, the flush on his cheeks, the
awkward way he dived for the shelter of the trees as though attempting to
conceal himself, caught Kieran’s attention. He stopped in his tracks and fixed
the lad with a piercing gaze. “You, there. Come out here at once and tell me
what you are doing.”
The young man flushed even harder.
“Why, n-nothing, sire. I mean, Y-your Majesty.” Taking a deep breath, he
squared his shoulders, then stepped boldly onto the path. “I was just… I’d
hoped…” Abruptly the lad dropped to his knees and bowed his head. “I wanted to
wish you a H-happy Solstice, m-my liege.”
“Happy?” Kieran repeated the word
thoughtfully. He did not consider either of the solstices to be joyful
occasions. Once he might have done so, he supposed, but they’d long since
become the dreariest of days, forever associated with sacrifice and loss.
“Aye, Your Majesty. And
also…to wish you well as your reign commences.” He paused, tongue darting
nervously out to wet his lips, then continued in a rush. “I know you are always
with us, my liege, whether we see you or no. But the world will seem a bleaker
place until you return again to grace us with your presence.”
“I see.” Kieran felt a rush of
attraction such as he could not remember feeling in a very long time. It was
followed almost immediately, however, by one of regret. What a shame they had
not crossed paths earlier in the year. As it was, he now had no time to pursue
anything with… “Stand up, my boy. And, tell me, what is your name?”
“F-fionn, m-my liege,” he said
rising slowly to his feet. “Fionn O’Dair.”
Fionn. Kieran repeated the name
silently. He would really have to try and remember that. “Well, I thank you,
Fionn, for your well wishes.” The boy was delightful, bright as a summer
morn—an oak, obviously—and, perhaps because of that, Kieran was suddenly
reminded, most forcefully, of Rory.
It was then that the half-realized
ideas in Kieran’s head coalesced into a plan. What better way to gain the Oak
King’s attention than to flaunt a new lover in front of him, to make love to
this lad right in the shade of Rory’s branches? Why, nothing could be more
perfect! He could indulge in a harmless flirtation with Fionn and roust Rory
from his bed at the same time.
Knowing Rory as he did, Kieran was
certain the oak would waste no time in making Kieran pay for his insolence.
He’d be wont to take his wayward lover hard and fast—very much in the same
manner as Kieran planned on taking Fionn, if he were willing. The thought only
added to Kieran’s excitement.
A smile overspread Kieran’s face.
“I wonder, young Fionn, how sincere are you in wishing me happy? For, if you’re
willing, I can think of a way in which you might assist me in making this
solstice a very happy one indeed.”
In Monday's Here Be News post, I told the world all about some exciting news: the contracting of some of my older, out of print books with vibrant new publishers. I couldn't be more excited, and I promise to share more when the release dates approach.
