Urban
Fantasy / Celtic Fantasy
Date
Published: April 1, 2019
Publisher:
eSpec Books (Paper Phoenix Press imprint)
Mortal.
Immortal. Musician. Mage.
On
a journey from the boroughs of New York to the heart of Tir na nÓg, from
innocence to the deepest darkest crevices of her soul, Kara O’Keefe found power
and strength in the discovery of self. But with that peace came a hard truth.
As a bridge connecting many worlds, none of them held a place for her.
She
must find her own way, forge her own path.
To
honor a vow to Granddame Rose, a matriarch of the Kalderaš Clan, Kara joins the
Romani caravan, only to find herself even more of an outsider than before.
While she strives for acceptance, and to honor her vow, little does she know
she has once more become a lure to an ancient and deadly enemy, drawing danger
into the midst of her unsuspecting hosts.
Once
savior of the world, Kara must now save herself and the innocents around her.
She
has come into her legacy, but where will destiny take her?
****
Based
on the Eternal Cycle Series of Novels:
Yesterday's
Dreams
Tomorrow's
Memories
Today's
Promise
****
Includes
six bonus short stories.
Excerpt
The wagon looked deserted. Kara had watched all morning. No one had come or gone from it. The Romani might have claimed Tony from the Sidhe, but none among them cared for him. Heck, Sveta wouldn’t even say his name. Only now, looking more closely at the wagon, Kara noted various charms had been hung from any available protrusion and symbols to contain evil likewise marked wherever the carving allowed. None of them held power that Kara could see. What the Rom did not seem to grasp is that charms guarding against evil already decorated the wagon. The symbols carved when the vardo was made were imbued with mage power. Old and faded, but still strong.
If Tony were evil, he never could have entered the damned wagon, to begin with.
Anger kindled hot and heavy in her breast. Tony was a victim. Foolish, perhaps. A delinquent who unwittingly invited the trouble that had been visited upon him, most certainly. But nothing about him as a person was evil. Kara knew this. Intimately. She had seen evil, been touched by it. Banished it. Destroying Olcas and his brothers had been a good start to keeping her vow to Granddame Rose, but it wasn’t enough when Tony’s spirit remained shackled. Not when his own people had clearly cast him out in all but deed.
Time to get to work.
She returned to the wagon she shared with Sveta and her young sons and gathered what cleaning supplies she could find, leaving a twenty on the table. When she stepped back outside, Beag Scath appeared at her feet. The fierce scowl on the sprite’s face reflected her own heart. Together they crossed the camp to the ancient-looking vardo where Rose’s grandson was housed. Kara knocked. No one answered, but the ill-latched door opened beneath her hand. Stale, musty air wafted out, causing Kara to cough as she peered within. The interior was dark as twilight, and nothing moved. In the faint light, she spied a man-shaped form huddled on the far bunk beneath a moth-eaten blanket. Part of her marveled at how he’d folded his 5’10” frame so small; most of her fumed at his living conditions.
Kara set Quicksilver and her supplies beside the door and stepped inside. She opened the two shutters at either end to let in fresh air, and then returned outside to deal with the exterior of the wagon. It took several minutes and no small amount of clambering by herself and Beag Scath to strip away most of the charms. Those left had been crudely painted on and would need to be scrubbed off. Still, it was a start. Squaring her shoulders and setting her jaw, she pivoted and headed for the communal fire at the center of the camp. Without a word to anyone, but challenge in her gaze, she dumped the charms into the flames and returned to Tony’s vardo.
There was not much else she could do about the condition of the wagon, but she would not give up on the man inside.
Returning to the main camp she approached the nearest vardo where one of the women, Susan Simko, prepared a meal. The herb-laden aroma of stewed lamb and vegetables set Kara’s stomach rumbling.
“Please, may I have a portion?” Kara asked, respectful, but determined, holding the woman’s gaze, daring her to look away.
“Mizhak,” Susan muttered as she spat into the dirt, her gaze clearly on Tony’s wagon. There was no doubt of her meaning.
“No,” Kara answered, her tone polite, but forceful. “Broken, not wicked. Family.”
She had no doubt the woman understood her words…and her determination.
Spitting again, Susan glared but shoved a smooth wooden bowl in Kara’s direction before disappearing into her wagon, slamming the door behind her. Holding the bowl with one hand, Kara took up the ladle hanging over the cook pot with the other and scooped out a single modest portion of the savory stew before hanging up the ladle again.
“Thank you,” she called out to the woman inside before carefully carrying the meal back to Tony’s wagon. When she reached her destination, she looked back only to see Susan not only dump out the remainder of the meal but throw both the pot and ladle away. Kara frowned and felt the bite of guilt deep in her belly. The Rom were proud people, without much in the way of worldly goods. Kara had forgotten they had very strong beliefs. And superstitions. She would not make the same mistake again. Tonight, she would ask Sveta what arrangements had been made to meet Tony’s needs, while allowing the others in the caravan to feel protected.
Mentally pushing up her sleeves, she went inside.
The bundle on the bed had cocooned tighter.
Kara set the bowl down on a massive wooden spindle that had been bolted to the floor as a table. She then moved to the bed and gently pulled the scratchy woolen blanket away.
Tony’s head whipped up, his face drawn and pale, framed by dark, unruly curls that had started to grow out of the neat style he’d worn in New York. He glared at her with dark, bloodshot eyes, dull and slightly glassy. As he realized who she was, he paled even further, his hand shaking as it reached up to tug the blanket back. She didn’t let him.
“Come on,” she said as if nothing were off at all. “Time to eat.”
Silently, he rose and did as she bid.
About
the Author
Award-winning
author and editor Danielle Ackley-McPhail has worked both sides of the
publishing industry for longer than she cares to admit. In 2014 she joined
forces with husband Mike McPhail and friend Greg Schauer to form her own
publishing house, eSpec Books (www.especbooks.com).
Her
published works include six novels, Yesterday's Dreams, Tomorrow's Memories,
Today’s Promise, The Halfling’s Court, The Redcaps’ Queen, and Baba Ali and the
Clockwork Djinn, written with Day Al-Mohamed. She is also the author of the
solo collections Eternal Wanderings, A Legacy of Stars, Consigned to the Sea,
Flash in the Can, Transcendence, Between Darkness and Light, and Eternal
Wanderings, the non-fiction writers’ guide, The Literary Handyman, and is the
senior editor of the Bad-Ass Faeries anthology series, Gaslight & Grimm,
Side of Good/Side of Evil, After Punk, and In an Iron Cage. Her short stories
are included in numerous other anthologies and collections.
In
addition to her literary acclaim, she crafts and sells original costume horns
under the moniker The Hornie Lady, and homemade flavor-infused candied ginger
under the brand of Ginger KICK! at literary conventions, on commission, and
wholesale.
Danielle
lives in New Jersey with husband and fellow writer, Mike McPhail and three
extremely spoiled cats.
To
learn more about her work, visit www.sidhenadaire.com or www.especbooks.
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