I've always loved fairies. Not the stupid little happy fairies like in Disney's Cinderella, not even when I was a kid. I did, though, have an affinity for Tinkerbell - she at least had attitude and knew how to hold on to her man. Why do I like them so much? Well, fairies, obviously, are magical beings, beautiful, smart, of the earth, sexual beings, free and ageless - what's not to love. Further, being of Irish heritage, Irish tales fascinated me from quite an early age. I'm adopted, so I used to pretend that I was really an Irish fairy princess and some day my "people" would come for me, take me away from the drudgery of my existence and place on a throne where I would be pampered coddled as I should be. Truthfully, I still have that fantasy.
While waiting for my people to come for me, though, I decided to do a bit of research and write my own fairy story. Following the age-old adage of "write what you know", I added some BDSM since my husband and I have delved into this fascinating and sensual world on occasion. Just to bring in another twist, I thought I'd add another element which interests me - bars (in America anyway, in Ireland it would be pubs). What can I say - I like whiskey and I like people. I gave all these ingredients a good shake and what came out? "Conquest of a Fairy" of course. This was my first novella published with Total-e-bound, and I'm really rather proud of it. Saoirse, the half mortal, half fairy heroine, is all the things a fairy should be. Sadly, though, she's lacking excitement and love in her home world, so she crosses into the world of mortals only to find herself in a whole heap of trouble. Luckily, the hunky hero, Angus is there to come to her rescue from a near rape by the town bully. Angus, like any TRUE man, has no tolerance for a man forcing himself on a woman.
Here's a short excerpt. Hope you enjoy it.
“Take that, you son of a bitch!” the man yelled. He then dropped Seamus to the floor. The stranger stood over him as if deciding if he wanted another go at the now unconscious Seamus. “A man isn’t a man who forces himself on a woman. And I’d be little better than you if I beat a man already unconscious,” he mumbled. With a shake of his head he turned to face the girl crying on the bed. Slowly he approached and looked down at her. He smiled, gently and honestly. Saoirse, through her tears, saw that his eyes were kind and his smile genuine. “I won’t hurt ya. I want you to know that. My name is Angus and I own McMurphy’s Pub just down the street from here. I’m goin’ to take out the gag first then untie ya. Scream if you feel the need, but know that I will not hurt you. In fact I’ll try not to touch you at all. You’ve been through enough today,” he said softly. Saoirse nodded her understanding and he gently removed the shirt from her mouth. True to his word, when he unbound the belt his hand barely brushed over her bruised wrists. “Now don’t get skitterish. I’m going to remove my shirt.” Tears welled once more in Saoirse’s eyes. Did every man in this world think of only one thing? “No, no, little one, I’m not going to hurt you. I saw your dress. You’ll be wantin’ something to wear. I figure you’re small enough that my shirt will do for a garment until I can get you out of here.” He removed his white, buttoned shirt and handed it to her. Saoirse looked up and saw with relief that he wore an undergarment. She also noticed the gentle smile and kind eyes. Perhaps she had misjudged this man. She reached for the shirt and said, “I am called Saoirse. Thank you, but please, could you take me away from this evil place?” Her hand shook as she buttoned the shirt that indeed fell almost to her knees. While she was now unsure of her judgment of the character of these humans, this man’s face and eyes seemed filled with nothing but kindness and concern. She had to trust someone. This tall, dark-haired giant was her best hope. “Do you have a place to go?” Angus asked. “No, I’m from. . . well. . . I’m on a journey. I know no one from this region. I did research and thought I knew what I was getting myself into. It seems I was mistaken.” Saoirse hung her head in shame. “Alone? You? A pretty young woman decided to go on a ‘journey’ alone and is surprised when she finds herself in trouble? I’d say you made a mistake!” Angus scolded. She began to cry again. His voice immediately contrite, Angus said, “Ah now, no need for tears, come along. I’ve a room open above my pub. It’s safe, I promise you. The room is small but clean. You can stay as long as you like—a few hours or a few days, a week or so—it’s up to you. I won’t be havin’ you think ill of my town.” “What about him?” Saoirse asked as she and Angus left Seamus’ cottage. Angus’ eyes hardened. “You’ll be having no more trouble from him. He does live in this town so if you decide to stay you’ll be seein’ a bit of him about, but he’ll not be botherin’ you again. I won’t stand for it.”