... on my current WIP. It's slated to be a 20-25k novella for submission to New Concepts for an anthology. My deadline is April 10th, so... I gotta get crackin'. But yesterday I finally went over 10,000 words, so I'm halfway done. Now I've just gotta hunker down and git 'er done.
My goal is to finish the rough draft so my critique partners can go crazy on it and I can make changes and still meet the deadline.
The premise is ... whimsical to a degree. The heroine, MacKenzie McCallum, used to be a dog. I don't mean she was ugly. I mean she used to be an Irish wolfhound in the court of the High King of the Fae. The hero, Connor mac Finnbheara, the oldest son of the High King, was cursed 200 years ago to be a werewolf the three nights of the full moon. Because he only attacks other Fae during his transformation, he is banished to the human realm during those three days and nights. Mackey isn't Fae enough to be in danger. Or... is she? Even so, can she love him for what he is and perhaps be the key to ending his curse?
I've got an unedited excerpt here, but need to give some definitions first:
seis - pronounced "sace", means curse
Danu - the Mother Goddess of ancient Ireland
Fomorian - enemies of the Tuatha De Danann
Tuatha De Danann - pronounced "too-ah day dah-nawn", the gods and goddesses of Ireland (mostly relegated today to being little fairy creatures)
Cailleach - pronounced "cawl-yatch", it's a crone or witch
Daoine Sidhe - pronounced "deenie shee", they are the Tuatha De Danann who remained behind in Ireland, living beneath the fairy mounds (or sidhes).
Now, onto the excerpt:
The East be my witness, the West see my pain,
North wind a squall, South wind a bane.
Dark child of woe, not friend, but foe.
The Wolf's spirit will follow where'er you go.
By our great goddess I lay this seis.
Under the full moon shall we see your true face,
None of Danu's children shall be safe
Until the love of a fae unmakes that which I have made.
Pronounced to Prince Connor mac Finnbheara by a Fomorian Cailleach
* * * *
"Where are you?" Queen Una of the Daoine Sidhe passed her hand over the Well of Sight again and again, the scenes before her changing with each motion. First a small village near the sea, then a bustling city, a fairy ring, a park with a lovely, placid lake …. But she didn't find what she was looking for.
She searched for MacKenzie McCallum, a young woman for whom she felt a particular responsibility, seeing as it was her fault the lass had been exiled to the human realm nearly two hundred years before.
But at least wee MacKenzie had been given the chance to live as a human instead of a dog. She should be embracing life with every breath, though Una was sure the lass was moping about somewhere like some sort of bridge troll.
"She cannae expect normal when she used to be a dog," Una muttered.
Her oldest son, Connor, walked into the room. "Who’re you spying on now?" he asked with an indulgent smile on his handsome face. His deep tones reflected the cultured schooling he'd received in the human realm, although his voice still carried the lilt of the Sidhe. He was tall and strong, the best warrior the Fae had.
And that quickly, Una knew a way to help both of these wayward children. She would use her son’s kind heart against him, as it were, but for his own good, of course. He’d be just the thing for MacKenzie.
"I don’t think I like the look on your face." One eyebrow rose as he slowed his pace. The lad acted like he didn’t want to get too close to her. She sighed and rolled her eyes. The males of her race were so suspicious.
Of course, it wouldna hae anything to do with the fact that the women of the Daoine Sidhe were known to be a sneaky lot.
"Why, Connor, me love. Whatever do ye mean?" Una pasted what she hoped was an innocent look on her face which, by the dark expression on his, failed woefully.
"You’re up to something."
"Natch." She smiled and patted him on the cheek as if he were a wee boy in knee britches. The gesture would throw him off. "Ye’re just too distrustful, is what ye are."
Sure enough, a scowl crossed his features, showing why he was sometimes called FaolchĂș Cnoc Meadha--The Wolf of Cnoc Meadha. Where most of the Daoine Sidhe were of fair complexion, he sported the darkest of hair and had skin with a tawny cast. And while the others of the trooping faeries were glad of heart, Connor tended toward the serious and brooding side of things. She’d have thought he was a Changeling had she not birthed the lad herself.
Then, of course, there was the matter of his curse …
And if that wasna enough for the lad to bear, here he was with one blue eye and one brown. Both of which were narrowed on her at this very moment.
She pretended reluctance. "Weel ..." Waving her hand over the Well, she created a picture from her memory, and pointed to a lovely young woman with short, curly blonde hair and sparkling eyes the deep blue of the ocean. "See that lass there?" She watched him lean in for a closer look.
"Aye." He nodded, his gaze intent upon the young woman.
Una gripped her fingers together to keep from clapping in glee. He was interested. So like his da, he was. Show him a pretty face, and other interesting bits and pieces, and he couldna look at anything else. Of course, Connor had more moral fortitude than did his da. She knew her son. Once he committed himself to something, he stayed committed. He was perfect for MacKenzie.
"I've lost track of her. It's important I make sure she's doin' all right."
When she didn’t go on, her son shot her a look of impatience. "Why?" he prompted.
This is where it could get tricky. She crossed her fingers behind her back. "The poor thing has spent the last several years pinin' for a cure."
"For what?" he asked, staring intently at the young woman.
Victory was close at hand. Una fought to keep her feet still; she so wanted to dance in glee. "Her loneliness and isolation; the grief she refuses to acknowledge at bein' exiled to the realm of humans." Una heaved a sigh, looking at her son from under her lashes. "It would mean the world to me if ye'd find her, lad. Just to set me mind at ease that she's doin' well."
Connor trailed a long finger across the surface of the water, making the young woman’s image ripple. He seemed deep in thought, a frown pulling again at his brow. Finally he asked, "But if she's Fae, I'd be a danger to her."
"Ach, she's no' Fae, Connor, no' really. So I dinna think ye'd be putting her in any danger." She made sure she maintained a mixture of concern and hope on her face. He was such a stubborn man. Got that trait from his da, he did.
"We’re still a day away from the full moon anyway," he replied in an absentminded way, still staring at the image of the lass in the Well.
Una wondered at his thoughts. She knew what he saw: a petite woman with a pixie face, stubborn chin and slender body, dressed in a knit top and flirty skirt.
"It shouldn’t take long, should it?" He trailed his finger in the water again, not taking his eyes off the reflection of the young woman.
"Weel, ye could also be about findin' the woman who can break yer curse." Una laid one hand on her son's brawny forearm. When he made to draw away from her, she tightened her fingers. "It's past time, Connor. Ye deserve some happiness, too."
His jaw clenched, the muscles twitching, then he relaxed, though his face remained solemn. "Now's not the time to be looking, Mother. One more day and the full moon is upon me; I'll kill anything Fae that comes across my path."
"Then ye've no worries here, for this lass isna Fae," she said, and pointed back at the image in the Well. "The last I knew, she was goin' by the name Bridget O'Neill." Una slid her hand up to his wide shoulder and patted it, trying to comfort this wild child of hers, this man so full of sorrow. This had to work. The son of King Finnbheara had borne his curse too long. "Aye,” she said in a soft voice, and laid her hand in the crook of his elbow. "No worries. And a day is plenty o’ time. All ye need to do is find her, talk to her, show her what a wonderful life she has, now that she’s human."
"Now that she’s ..." He cocked one brow. "And she used to be ...?"
"Oh, she was such a lovely wolfhound."
"She was ... a dog?" He looked in the Well again, his frown lifting into a slow grin. "I'm fairly certain I can show her that life’s definitely better as a human than a furry mongrel."
"Weel, now, she wasn’t just any furry mongrel, lad." Even now, two hundred years later, Una still felt satisfaction at the deed she’d performed. Not that Finn had appreciated it. No, he’d not appreciated it at all. "She was ye’re da’s favorite."
He stared at her. Voice a bit sharp, he asked, "You changed Da’s favorite dog into a human? I don’t remember that."
"It happened while ye were in the human realm getting yer schooling," Una told him. "An’ when ye came back with the curse, weel, me changing his favorite dog into a human was no’ such a bad thing, after all."
His lips tightened for a moment, and then he seemed to shake the memories as a smile once again softened his mouth. "Aye, I imagine so. But what did he do?"
Una lifted her chin and crossed her arms over her bosom. "He wouldna dare lift a hand to me," she said in a mock huff, loving this part. "Me husband knows better than to try to best me with magic. He may be the undefeated chess champion of all the Fae--and a wicked strategist--but I’m far stronger than he in magic, and he well kens it."
"That you are," Connor agreed. "Poor Da. He must’ve been furious, though."
"Aye, he was." Una grinned, remembering the way Finn had stomped about the palace for days on end. He had promised retribution, and what sweet retribution it had been. Connor’s younger sister Fionna was the result of that particular season of punishment.
* * * *
Stay tuned for more, hopefully in an anthology to be released this fall. *G*
P.S. Today's my author day at Torrid Temptations. Even with putting my own post up this morning, it didn't dawn on me that today's the second of the month and that means I'm over at Torrid. Oy vay. But I made it! I've shared some great news about Careful Wishes, and some yummy eye candy (for the gals. Sorry guys.).