Happy Imbolc to all my friends who celebrate it. For those who don’t know, Imbolc (also known by the names Óimelc, and Candlemas) is the celebration of the first signs of spring, in Celtic lands, and legend. The day was dedicated the ancient goddess of fire crafts, fertility, and inspiration (among other things) Brighid. (Also the Catholic saint Bridget but for our purposes, it’s the dedication to the goddess Brighid that is important). Imbolc is a cross-quarter day, half way between winter and spring, and one of the four high Holy days in Celtic mythology celebrating the first signs of spring. The day also looms huge in my paranormal romance novel, Keeper of the Grove (Stewards War, book one). Since that’s the case–and this is a sneak peek Sunday post, it seemed appropriate to give you an excerpt from that book.
Aaron put in a call to the only person he thought might be able to help him figure out how to convince Stacy to believe him—the only one who could help her understand what they needed to do.
“Can you come by?” Aaron blurted when Isaac answered the phone. “I need your advice.”
“What’s happened?” Isaac asked.
Aaron pinched his eyes shut. “I’ll explain everything when you get here.” If anyone could help him, Isaac could. His memories of the last steward still resonated with the warriors. As such, he was their best resource on how to deal with a Macken woman.
Aaron paced, waiting for his friend to arrive. The thought of throwing a few punches at one of the punching bags was enticing, but he’d rather hit something worth the effort. Alas, there were no Harbingers around.
He glanced at himself in the mirrors. “You’re a fool.”
When the door buzzer rang, Aaron sprinted across the wood floor and unlocked the doors.
Isaac surveyed him then pronounced, “You look like a crazy person.”
Aaron flipped the locks behind him. “I feel like it.”
Isaac frowned, slipping out of his coat. “What for?”
“I blew it. She’ll never accept what I have to tell her. You shouldn’t have sent me, Isaac.”
“Do you truly believe that?” The redheaded man stood a little less than a foot taller than Aaron, but no menace exuded from him as he stared down at him.
Still, the way Isaac peered at him before turning back to the display of the school’s various competition awards did nothing for Aaron’s concern. He’d let his comrades
down. He just knew it.
“I made a damn fool mistake. You can believe anything you want about me, but we chose wrong.”
“Judging by your story, I can’t think of a better guardian for her.”
Relief washed over him, but the dilemma remained unresolved, and he had no idea what to do. “Even though her trust in me just hit the sewers? You haven’t seen how she’s reacting.”
“Couldn’t be any different than how Ruth reacted.”
Isaac shook his head, red braid flopping as he moved. “She’s seen enough now that I doubt she’s truly still skeptical. She knows everything, doesn’t she? After what you’ve done so far, I imagine Balor’s minions won’t be so hard to swallow.”
“She knows the truth about harshads—or thinks she does. That’s a start, I suppose.” Aaron’s lip twitched. “Maybe it’s better to keep her in the dark.”
Isaac pondered him a moment. “Maybe I should see her reaction. Perhaps you’ve misread her.”
“There’s no time to show you! I can’t introduce you now and believe that will solve anything.”
Isaac turned his puzzled gaze on a painting of a group of ancient swordsmen in battle. “If I set her straight, or if Cyreth does, maybe she’ll believe.”
Aaron grabbed the chair’s arms, throttling them as if they were a physical foe, then pushed himself up and paced to Isaac’s side. “She may recognize the term, and she may have a few books on her shelf about our people, but I really think if either of you go there with that agenda now, she’ll shut down like a frightened turtle.”
“A Macken woman is no frightened turtle.” Isaac frowned. “The woman should be scared. If she continues to balk, it will be disastrous!” He leveled his gaze at Aaron. “The Fomorian hordes can never be allowed to win again. If they do, you know what will happen. The world as she knows it will end.”
Will they win? Will the world end before (their) Imbolc? Well….if you’d like to check the book out, here’s the synopsis:
Stacy Macken has one goal in mind: saving her renowned history center from greedy creditors. Losing it would be a catastrophe—one she doesn’t know how she’ll avoid.
Until Aaron Fielding arrives. To all human eyes, he is just like any man, but he reminds Stacy of one of the fae. He certainly enchants her like a fae lover would.
But Stacy suspects there is more to this sexy fellow, with his tales of the Tuatha dé Danann, and magical warriors from Celtic legend who protect humanity from a wicked enemy seeking their destruction. Does his appearance mean the end of the world imminent?
Can she, a studious woman more intent on history books with no training in or love of war, possibly have anything to offer when a long-prophesied druidic battle explodes around her?
Previously published as Passion’s Sacred Dance by Juli D. Revezzo
