I sent back the second draft of my soon to be released novella Samhain’s Embrace to my editor the lovely helgaleena. Apparently I may be a angst-ho as my peeps have proclaimed me for years, but I made my editor quite happy. *hee*
As soon as I have a release date for Samhain’s Embrace I’ll let you all know. Until then let me give you a sneak peak:
What is loss to the human heart?
A spirit of nature, misunderstood and forgotten by modern man, when drawn out on the one night he roams the darkness freely, seeks to understand the meaning of loss and ease a young man’s pain.
Bran Conleth is a man broken by the ultimate loss—death. Desperate to summon his deceased lover he chooses the one night when the veil between the land of the living and the land of the dead is at its thinnest. Instead of his lover he calls forth the embodiment of the night—Samhain.
Together they share one incredible journey that will teach Samhain about human loss and Bran that there is life after death.
Standing, naked, in front of the full-length mirror, Bran studied his body and wondered if this would work. He’d planned and studied for nearly a year since he’d found the mirror. Now it hung on the wall of the room he’d shared with Dmitri for the short time they’d lived in the house. He lifted one hand and traced the raw pink scar that ran along his forehead beneath his shaggy sandy-blonde hair, and tears welled in his gray-green eyes. How did a life so charmed and filled with love end like this? His chest constricted as he fought the pain that rose in a wave of acid from his stomach, his fingers moving over the other minor scars he’d suffered from the accident, each a mark on his heart and soul.
“I need you so much, Dmitri,” he whispered, voice raw and pain-filled. “He had no right to take you from me.”
His gaze turned upward to the top of the mirror where an engraved moon shone, one-half set with obsidian and the other mother of pearl. The antiques dealer that he’d purchased the mirror from had told him that the mirror had belonged to a druidic high priestess in Ireland. How it had gotten to a dusty antiques shop in Kansas City should have bothered him, but it hadn’t. When he’d first seen the mirror he’d known this was the way he could bring Dmitri back. He’d felt the raw power embedded in it reach out to him and guide him to where it leaned against the wall, lost between crates filled with books and statuary, its silver surface coated in a thick layer of filth.
Finding the right spell to summon the dead, though, had been a different story altogether.