Gaelic Goddess

Boruma Publishing

No one grieved for Mick Phelan when he died. The old lawyer had been a terrible father and a horrible man, poisoning his children with his hate.

But an unexpected inheritance was waiting for his grandson Thomas. An Irish goddess who Mick had ensnared decades ago showed up on his doorstep, begging him to free her from bondage.

Now Tom and Rhiannon must navigate a treacherous road. Will their growing attraction for one another allow them to part the mists of time and release her from slavery? Or will Rhiannon be bound forever, a fate worse than death for this Gaelic Goddess?

~~~~~  Excerpt  ~~~~~

Tom took a deep breath. “Rhiannon, I ask that you return your body to the form that most pleases you.”

Rhiannon's head snapped back and she gave a low moan. She stumbled unsteadily to her feet, hunched around her middle, bracing one hand on the arm of the couch. As he looked on, wide-eyed, a golden glow began to form around her body, centered on her breasts and her groin. He was forced to turn away, his eyes spouting tears, the light too bright to face.

Rhiannon gave a sudden shout, piercing and clear, and with a last flash, quick as a bolt of lightning, the light went out, leaving them again in the dim light of his living room. Blinking, Tom turned to look at Rhiannon.

She was standing by the sofa, a look of astonished wonder on her face. “By all the gods above and below, I thank you, Thomas Phelan,” she said.

Face flaming, he stood and walked toward his bedroom door. This was too intense. Too private. He felt like he had stumbled across a woman giving birth, or soulmates sharing their first kiss.

“Stop.”

 

He halted in his tracks.

“Thomas,” she said, her voice low and vibrant.

“Yes?” he said, but did not turn to face her.

“I would like it very much if you stayed here with me,” she said.

“Are you sure?” he said nervously.

“Very much so. Who better to witness when Rhiannon, Goddess of fertility and the harvest, reclaims part of her legacy, than the one who made it possible?”

Read more
Collapse
Loading...

Additional Information

Publisher
Boruma Publishing
Read more
Collapse
Published on
Oct 13, 2015
Read more
Collapse
Pages
48
Read more
Collapse
ISBN
9781311236876
Read more
Collapse
Read more
Collapse
Read more
Collapse
Language
English
Read more
Collapse
Genres
Fiction / Erotica / General
Fiction / Romance / Erotica
Fiction / Romance / Paranormal
Read more
Collapse
Content Protection
This content is DRM protected.
Read more
Collapse
Read Aloud
Available on Android devices
Read more
Collapse
Eligible for Family Library

Reading information

Smartphones and Tablets

Install the Google Play Books app for Android and iPad/iPhone. It syncs automatically with your account and allows you to read online or offline wherever you are.

Laptops and Computers

You can read books purchased on Google Play using your computer's web browser.

eReaders and other devices

To read on e-ink devices like the Sony eReader or Barnes & Noble Nook, you'll need to download a file and transfer it to your device. Please follow the detailed Help center instructions to transfer the files to supported eReaders.
Three arousing tales of paranormal love, sex, and desire!

Gaelic Goddess - Thom Phelan inherits an incredibly sexy fertility goddess from his hated grandfather.

Holy Water - Charlie Schuler returns from war to reunite with a beautiful river spirit who has very erotic plans for him!

The Snow Maid - Bill Carter is rescued from certain death by an immortal nature spirit whose lusty sensuality stuns him!

~~~~~ Excerpt ~~~~~

“My parents think I'm strange, you know,” he told Lily. They were sitting companionably on the bank of the creek, tossing pebbles into the clear water, their feet dangling in the stream. The sweet smell of plum blossoms floated by them in the warm breeze.

“I wish you had let Maggie see you when I brought her here,” he continued, somewhat peevishly. “Or Mama. Then they would know you were real, and not an imaginary friend. Mama told me not to talk about you where anyone else could hear me.”

Lilaea ignored the subject, just as she did any she did not wish to discuss. “The turtles are out,” she said with a smile, pointing at three lumpy objects basking in the sun.

Charlie followed her as she turned, and the breeze brought the scent of her hair to his nose. He shifted uncomfortably. Over the past year he had been growing more and more aware of Lily's physical presence during their time together. In fact, it was now a rare day when he did not have to duck into the barn after spending time with her and bring himself to shuddering release.

Today Lily was wearing a dress which seemed to incorporate all the flowers of spring. Thousands of delicate petals were somehow woven together into a multi-hued pastel garment which clung to her body like a second skin. From his vantage point beside her, he could peek down the open neckline and see the swells of her breasts.

She turned back towards him, her eyes wicked, and he flushed crimson.

“What were you looking at, naughty little boy?”

“I'm not little anymore,” he said, stung by her tone. “I'm taller than you are now.” Indeed, that had been a day to savor last autumn, when he finally passed her in height.

Lily flipped a hand dismissively. “All little boys are the same. They all want what they can't have.”

Hardly daring to breathe, Charlie reached out his hand and took hers, their fingers entwining. “I'm not like other boys,” he said.

She turned her head and looked deep into his eyes. He sank into them, feeling as if he were drowning. She cupped his cheeks in her tan hands, the cool skin a balm on his hot face.

“No, you're not." Soft as a whisper, her lips brushed his cheek, making him burn.

Author Mark Watford didn't expect to fall in love when he moved into the old farmhouse. But Brianna, his landlady's beautiful daughter, quickly captured his heart.

But Mark and Brianna are not alone. A presence has been watching them. One fateful night, it makes its presence known. Will Mark and Brianna's love be able to survive when she's been…POSSESSED BY THE POLTERGEIST?

~~~~~ Excerpt ~~~~~

~One hundred years,~ her long-dead aunt whispered. She stopped beside Bree's chair, looking down at her as she shrank away in fear. ~One hundred years of waiting, hoping that the next generation would give birth to a woman who would not throw her maidenhood away like a broken toy. One hundred years, until you came along, Brianna. It is time. I lost my life in anger, furious that my virginity could not be given to my one true love, dead and buried half a world away. Now, through you, I will experience that joy. And if God is kind, he will allow me to leave this world to be reunited with Jimmy in Heaven.~

Brianna's throat worked, caught between pity and terror. “Wait, what?”

Mark was looking at her worriedly. “Bree, are you all right?”

She held her hands up, trying to fend off his questions and a world which was suddenly moving too quickly. Her Aunt Hazel, on the other hand, had no such qualms. As easily as she would step from one room to another, she moved towards her and let her ghostly body merge with Bree's.

~Oh, God,~ a voice sighed in her ear. ~To have a body again. And such a fair one. Thank you, Grandniece.~

To her horror, she heard her voice, sounding thick and slurred when it emerged form her lips. “Mark, I'm tired of waiting. Let's go upstairs and make love.”

Mark leaned back in his chair. His eyes, reflecting the flames of the candles on the table, were wide and panicked. “What? No. No way. Bree, what's wrong with you? You sound terrible.”

No! Her head rang with the echoes of her silent shout. I won't let you do this to me! Caught between opposing forces, her body lurched back and forth in her chair. One moment it tried to rise to its feet. The next it settled back with a thump as one woman or the other gained a momentary advantage.

Mark pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and tried to dial, his fingers shaking. He looked at the screen with disbelief as it refused to follow his commands. Swearing, he jumped up and picked up the land line, finding that completely inoperative as well.

~No electronics.~ Hazel's voice was grimly amused. ~None of the tools or toys you use in this decadent age. Only two people, and their love. And me.~

No! How can you do this? How can you violate me by forcing me against my will? Have you no humanity left?

~But I need to!~ Hazel's voice wailed. ~Please! I don't know how much longer I can stay sane! You have no idea how terrible my existence is. How much I hate it. Please, I just need to make love one time, then I can move on. Would you have me become a spirit of anger and hatred, haunting this house until no one is willing to live here? Until it becomes a tottering wreck, filled with rats and vermin, fit only for a bulldozer?~

Then work with me, not against me, Brianna countered. Do you think I don't care about you? God, Aunt Hazel, you're my own blood! And if you have been watching us, you know how much Mark and I care for each other. We are in love. It was only a matter of time before I decided to give myself to him. I chose tonight. If you hadn't blighted the mood, we'd probably be in his bed right now.

She took a deep breath, ignoring Mark's frantic dithering. If this is what you need to move on, I will help. But you are going to be a passenger in this body. Not its operator.
Mary was running away from a lifetime of abuse, looking only for a safe place to raise her children. Eveline had been rejected by her family, and was trying to start her life over. When chance threw them together, it was only a matter of time before the sparks of desire caught fire. But will their mutual attraction be enough? Only time will tell, as Mary attempts to embrace her…Innocent Passion.

 

~~~~~ Excerpt ~~~~~

 

“We're home!” Becca shouted cheerfully as Mary turned on the lights. She took off her jacket, then helped Debbie do the same thing, hanging them up neatly on the battered coatrack by the door. Free of the jacket, Debbie toddled over to her, her small round face creased in a frown.

 

“I'm hungwy, Mommy,” she said.

 

“I'll have something ready for you in a few minutes, sweetheart,” she said absently. Then she realized that Evey was looking at her with something like horror in her eyes.

 

*****

 

'Mommy?' This child? Evey's mind reeled. She had thought the two girls were Mary's nieces. Or perhaps she was a babysitter. She looked at the two children and her mind did some rapid mental math. She couldn't have been more than fifteen when her first child was conceived. If that. Maybe less.

 

Mary looked at her, her chin raised, daring her to say something. “They're both mine,” she said with painful dignity, “and no one is going to take them away from me.”

 

“I wasn't judging,” she replied quietly. “I do social work myself. I've seen worse, believe me. I've seen thirteen-year-old boys strung out on heroin. I've seen women who shouldn't even be allowed to be near children having baby after baby. I've seen...too much,” she finished lamely, unwilling to catalog all of the horrors she had seen over the last three years.

 

“You talk funny,” Rebecca observed, from a spot down around her knees.

 

“Rebecca!” Mary said, her voice horrified. She looked at Evey in apology. Instead, she knelt down to kiss the child's cheek.

 

“Ah do, don't ah, punkin?” she said, emphasizing her Georgia drawl. “Why, bless yo heart, but you're just as sweet as pah.”

 

The little girl giggled, then spun away to sit on the couch. “You mentioned a shower?” Eveline asked, feeling her frigid, waterlogged jeans sticking uncomfortably to her thighs.

 

“Of course,” Mary said, blushing. She led her down a short hall to a bathroom. “Just toss your clothes outside the door. I'll put them in the dryer. It's one of the few extras this place has.”

 

She skinned out of her wet clothes quickly, tossed them blindly out the bathroom door, then stepped under the blessedly hot spray of the shower, letting the heat soak into her bones. Unwilling to get her long black hair wet when she had a long drive home in terrible weather, she lathered with a bar of soap over and over, until the last remnants of chill had been driven away.

 

She stepped out, drying herself with a threadbare but clean towel. She was just hanging it up and beginning to wonder what she was gong to wear while her clothes finished drying when there was a polite tap at the door. Mary came in, with a small pile of clothes held in her arms.

 

“I thought these might fit,” she started, then broke off, staring at her naked body. Her pale face, her skin like cream under Evey's gaze, flushed scarlet.

 

Eveline kept her face carefully neutral. Oh. So it's like that, is it? But inside, her heart leaped, even as her belly spasmed in frustrated longing. Two children, and a lesbian? She must have one hell of a story to tell. And I doubt it's a happy one.

 

“Thanks,” she said calmly, taking the clothes.

 

“I've...I've got your clothes in the dryer,” Mary stuttered, still unable to peel her eyes away from her chest. “Come on out when you’re ready.”

©2018 GoogleSite Terms of ServicePrivacyDevelopersArtistsAbout Google|Location: United StatesLanguage: English
By purchasing this item, you are transacting with Google Payments and agreeing to the Google Payments Terms of Service and Privacy Notice.