In 1780, Scotland, following a harsh year of drought, Callum Mackenzie is forced from his father’s farm in the hopes of finding work.
But as fate would have it, Callum is lured onto the moors by the will-o-the-wisp. Lost in the dark, he falls into enchantment, encountering faeries and nymphs, until he stumbles into the arms of a licentious Barrow-Wight who lays claim to his soul.
Hearing his silent pleas, Donal sends Liam the gruagach (faery) to rescue Callum and bring him to his farm, a place of refuge from the Fae.
Callum is happy working on Donal’s farm, slowly falling in love with the beautiful, silver-haired gruagach.
Yet there’s something wrong in the nearby forest….
Despite Donal’s warnings, Callum is lured into the forest and becomes tangled in its magic, easy prey for the Barrow-Wight.
Will Liam be able to strike a deal with the Barrow-Wight to save Callum’s life, or has Callum found his last resting place instead?
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Mists closed around him and hid the moon in a veil of cold grey. He came to a stumbling halt, fear pounding through him in time to the wild beat of his heart. As he caught his breath, he heard the unmistakable sound of flowing water, perhaps a creek winding through the heather. Callum gnawed his lips. Danger lurked on the water’s edge for an unwary man.
On the other hand, men built homes along the waterways and learned to guard against the faery folk. He sighed. Either choice spelled risk, but hunger and loneliness won out and sent him in search of the water’s path through the thick heath.
The gray fog made it hard to see his way and he cursed when he stepped into the creek before he knew he’d come to it. An icy chill raced up his leg and he glanced around, feeling as if he’d been startled from a dream. The mists were gone, leaving the fields bright with moonlight. Faint music caught his ears and he spied several globes of light in the distance. Will-o’-the-wisp? He didn’t know, but the haunting melody tugged at his heart and he walked toward it, careful of his footing.
It was caution that saved him before he made the fatal mistake of stepping into the faery ring that suddenly appeared at his feet. He might have become lost in their dark realm. He stared down, delighted with the brightly dressed wee folk fluttering and dancing in the circle of mushrooms. Laughter floated up to him and he smiled reflexively. Several of the pretty creatures spied him and flittered up to tug at his clothing with tiny hands. These were male, scantily dressed, and one saucy lad winked a bright eye and flew up to nibble at his lips.
Callum laughed and shooed them gently off. “I’m not fool enough to join you,” he told the three hovering near his face.
About the author
DIANNE HARTSOCK is the author of m/m erotic romance, both contemporary and fantasy, the psychological thriller, and anything else that comes to mind. Oh, and a floral designer. If she can’t be writing, at least she has the chance to create through the rich colors and textures of flowers and foliage to bring a smile to someone’s face.
Currently, Dianne lives in the Willamette Valley of Oregon with her incredibly patient husband, who puts up with the endless hours she spends hunched over the keyboard letting her characters play.