I Just Hit Publish!

I just hit publish on the kindle version of my short story Morrighan and I’m so impatient that I’m literally sitting at my computer compulsively clicking refresh hoping that it’s gone live in the last five seconds. And, finally it has!

So, why did I decide to publish a few short stories? Well, because I’m still working on the edits of The Winter Princess I wanted to share something instead of appearing idle to the publishing world. And hopefully build up a bit of a readership along the way.

The first story, Morrighan, deals with a retelling of the Arthurian Legends from Morgan le Faye’s point of view with a paranormal twist.

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It is available for purchase on Amazon and Smashwords for 99c.

Here’s an excerpt from the story…

The wind whipped through her hair, tossing the dark strands over her face and obscuring her vision. High above the sea, on the rocky crag the aerie was full.

Nemain settled on Morgan’s shoulder; the bird’s talons digging into the soft leather pauldron. She had become so used to it now that she didn’t even wince as the bird took its time hoping about on her shoulder before settling down.

As she turned her head and looked Nemain straight in the eye, the bird cocked its head to one side, its beady onyx eyes staring back at her. “Where are your sisters?” Morgan asked.

Nemain cawed once before raising one wing upwards, just as two more birds few in, circling once around Morgan’s head; the beat of their wings echoing in her ears. Badb and Macha landed one after the other on the leather gauntlet that covered her left arm from her fingertips right up to her elbow.

Smiling, Morgan gave a brief nod to each bird in turn. As she picked up the reins in her right hand, she nudged the dapple grey gelding on with her thighs, while being careful as she navigated her way down the steep path, that that had been worn into the cliff face after years of repetitive use and headed across the field for home.

It was true that she could have spent all day up at the aerie, looking out at the sea below while observing the hatchlings, but Morgan knew if she did she was only putting off the inevitable. That eventually she would have to see Arthur, and while she quite enjoyed the solitude, in having only the birds for company, she feared his wrath more.

Arthur, like most fey, was deathly afraid of birds, ravens in particular. It was said to see one was a bad omen, to lay eyes on three signified one’s own death. So superstitious was Arthur that when he and Morgan had been presented the murder of ravens as a wedding gift he’d threatened to spill their blood then and there in the reception hall.

What had been seen couldn’t be unseen, however; Arthur was destined to die.

Had it been anyone else but the Queen of Camelot’s kin that had presented such a gift to the newlyweds, the lives of Badb, Macha and Nemain, wouldn’t have been spared at all.

Pressing her thighs to the gelding’s flanks she worked him up to a trot before she gave the animal its head and allowed him to lengthen his stride until he was pacing at an even canter. Spying Arthur not far from the castle she brought the horse under control, knowing full well what was in store for her, should feathers wind up shedding on his clothing.

Bringing the ravens out of the aerie at dusk was not entirely wise, but Morgan was never one to play by anybody else’s rules but her own.

“Those creatures belong in the aerie not out here by castle walls,” Arthur said facing her.

“And fey belong in children’s story books,” Morgan spat.

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I am Morgan le Fay

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I’ve been busy working on expanding a short story that I’m hoping to offer up to the public in the coming weeks…

I’m thinking of releasing it as a series of three short stories – 6,000 words each – totalling 18,000 words… for 0.99c each.

The stories are my take on the Arthurian Myths, complete with new twists and all feed into my forthcoming Eldritch novels.

I’m looking forward to sharing them with you all and it’s because of that very reason, I’m gifting you a sneak peak…

Here it is!

Enjoy!

I am Morgan le Fay – revenge was the very last thing bequeathed to me.
My name was such that it would be written on the wind for centuries to come. A litany that would beat madly in the hearts of all those who’d wronged me.
Morgan le Fay… Morgan le Fay… Morgan le Fay.
Death would not come soon enough.
Once, I’d had a father who loved me as much as I loved him.
And they killed him.
The fair folk.
All for the want of a woman. A woman whose name was Igraine. The Queen of Camelot.
My mother was beautiful. Her fair hair shone like spun gold, and when she let it fall loose it fell almost down to the floor. Plaited, the long braid came to her waist.
I envied those long golden locks as a child, even when they turned snow white with age, I envied them. Anything would have been better than to be cursed with dark unruly curls as I was.
Nobody ever told me I was pretty, only common. How I wished I’d get to receive the type of looks of adoration my mother received. First from my father and then from Uther. I’d spent many a sleepless night as a child dreaming of the day I’d have a love as great as my mother had, had. It wasn’t until he showed up in my life, that I knew I was adored, simply for being me. Little did I know that his adoration would come at a price.