Now, I’m sure everyone who has been preggers can agree, pregnancy can make you nuts. Completely, undeniably cray-cray. You’re uncomfortable, nauseated, have heart burn, can’t see your feet, your boobs have gone off the reservation and swollen to proportions only cool in X-rated circles, and hormone swings can send you from laughing to crying in moments.
Take all that and give it to a powerful, butt kicking goddess. Â Scared yet? *I am.*
The MorriganÂ (<—- click that if you want to read the Wikipedia version of her bio. I know that that isn’t the most reliable source of info, but I don’t want to overload you with a million links you might not be interested in anyway.) is sometimes described as a singular goddess, sometimes as a goddess with three aspects. I went with the three aspects version.
Because there is very little written about The Celts, and what *is* written if often argued over…..I let myself take some artisticÂ licenceÂ I might not have otherwise. Celtic mythology is, in my opinion, a place that just begs to be played in by artists of every flavor. There’s so much room for us to muck about! A culture that blended extensively with those around it, left little behind in the way of written texts, and controversy galore among the experts…..yeah, baby. Lemme at it.
So, for Hunger Embraced, I needed to add some drama…I wanted more than one bad guy pulling my heroine’s strings. So I introduced Morrigan. Cause poor Miri (heroine) just needed more trauma drama in her life, right? Coming at the goddess from the 3 aspects angle let me introduce Macha. Â Her story is really cool. 🙂 Â There are (of course) different stories about her, one of my favorite being the one in which she out smarts a bunch of guys, takes them prisoner, and then forces them to build a castle. You go, girl!
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So, how about a snippet featuring Macha from Hunger Embraced?
A tall, red-haired woman stood a few feet to my left, letting the waves run over her feet. I rubbed my eyes and stared. This couldnâ€™t be happening. She stood in the water watching me, long, red hair flowing to her lower back and a baby bump protruding under her white gown. As she approached, she morphed into a muscular brunette wearing leather body armor, a quiver of arrows poking up over one shoulder and a short sword gripped in her right hand. Blue body paint and rust-colored spatters covered her cheeks, hands to the elbow, and legs.
I stared, dumbfounded, as her appearance continued to shift. She became an old woman with white, thinning hair and wrinkled cheeks. Even in the elderly form, her posture was ramrod straight, and she walked with long, fast strides over the sand. Holy crap. I pinched my thigh in an attempt to wake myself and scrunched my eyes closed, hoping when I opened them she would be gone. She stopped directly in front of me, once again the pregnant redhead. Her stern, green gaze bored a hole in my forehead, and I wriggled my backside into the sand. I stopped and held still, the way a mouse trapped in an aquarium with a hungry boa constrictor freezes. Maybe if I didnâ€™t move, sheâ€™d go away and not kill me. A shimmer danced over her hair and down her body, right to where her toes peeked out under her hemline. When it stopped, a braid fell over one shoulder and a circlet nestled in her hair. A stunning emerald green gown with a square neckline and those big bell sleeves like something right out of a medieval faire took the place of the shapeless white shift.
â€œYou should have come sooner, Miranda.â€ I fought the urge to stand up or to try to cover myself. I had a feeling either would be highly frowned upon by thisâ€¦person. I could do naked with men. Around other womenâ€”not so much.Â She sat down opposite me and folded her legs criss-cross-applesauce like mine. My skin crawled. With her sweeping gaze traveling over me, filingÂ everything away for some unknown purpose, I wanted to find some place to hide. I squirmed and stuck my tongue against the roof of my mouth so I wouldnâ€™t blurt out something asinine and regrettable.
â€œDaniel Red Sleeves has already told you what you are, so I do not understand why you wish to question me.â€
I looked at a point somewhere over her right shoulder while I formed my question. â€œI do not understand what it means though. I was never taughtâ€”â€
â€œWhy must it always be so with the young? Why, why, why. Always asking why. Be it a blessing or a calamity, your kind is always asking why.â€ She sighed, put one elbow on her knee, and dropped her chin to her palm. â€œDid you not listen to T.T.B.? He told you that you will help bring fertility back to the covens. And you really must stop thinking of yourself as human. You are much more than that.â€
Rude much lady? Ooohh look at me, Iâ€™m a shape-shifting entity who gets off on berating naked people. â€œHow did you know I call him that? And what if I donâ€™t want to bring life back to them? They donâ€™t seem to have many redeeming qualities.â€
Sheâ€™s fed up with being fed on.
All Miranda Thibodeaux really wants to do is survive corporate hell and be left alone. But as the daughter of the Incubi king, being left alone isnâ€™t on her schedule. And as an avatar to a goddess with multiple personality issues, taking things in stride isnâ€™t either.
Daniel looks like an ordinary surfer boy–T. T. B.–Tall, Tanned, and Blonde. Hot he may be, but ordinary heâ€™s not. Beneath the pretty packaging lies a ruthless warrior, a servant to the Vampire Council. His mission is to find Miranda and present her to the council, then get the hell out of Dodge before he loses his focus. The last thing he needs is the distraction of the testy female.
When circumstances force Miranda to turn to T.T.B. for help, they both end up with more than they bargained for. And that normal human life she wanted? Not really doable when everyone wants a piece of her…
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- About the Author
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Multi-published author of erotica and erotic romance. I love happy endings, zombies, chocolate, ponies, Jensen Ackles, nerd humor, and bad puns.