Lilith’s Children
Rachel Sullivan
LILITH’S CHILDREN
By
Rachel Sullivan
Copyright © 2019 Rachel Sullivan
Map by Dani Woodruff
Edited by Heather McCorkle.
Cover Design by Mibl Art and Tina Moss.
All stock photos licensed appropriately.
Published in the United States by City Owl Press.
www.cityowlpress.com
For information on subsidiary rights, please contact the publisher at [email protected]
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and not intended by the author.
Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior consent and permission of the publisher.
To my readers.
May you embrace your inner Wild.
Praise for Rachel Sullivan
“Strong characters. Smart writing. The most fun I've had between the pages in a long time! Sullivan's debut is not to be missed!” – New York Times bestselling author, Wendy Higgins
“Sullivan explodes onto the scene bringing her ideals of feminism and diversity with her. Strong female characters and world building collide leaving the reader breathless and eager for more.” – Samantha Heuwagen, Author of Dawn Among The Stars
“A promising debut from Rachel Sullivan, Freyja’s Daughter is an immersive urban fantasy novel with a satisfying feminist theme. Sullivan invokes a believable representation of mythological beings in a modern setting, and provides a contextually realistic interpretation of the lore surrounding them. Freyja’s Daughter is a rare treat for urban fantasy fans.” – Caitlin Lyle Farley, Readers’ Favorite 5 Starred Review
“Freyja’s Daughterhas strong female characters, captivating content, and Rachel Sullivan shows a talent for writing and content that I can totally see a fan base growing from. I am looking forward to more from this author.” – Tanja, KT Book Reviews
“In this wickedly smart must-read debut novel, strong women warriors based on familiar mythologies and folktales band together to take down the patriarchy. Rachel Sullivan's compelling voice, unique worldbuilding, and enchanting characters makes her my newest one-click author.” – Asa Maria Bradley, Award-Winning Author and Double RITA Finalist of the Viking Warriors series
“Freyja’s Daughter, Sullivan’s first book in her Wild Women’s series, makes you want to binge the series all at once. Welcome to the entertaining, feminist, and inclusive world of Huldras, Mermaids, Rusalki, and other mythical women—a world you won’t want to leave.” – Ivelisse Rodriguez, Author of Love War Stories
“Freyja’s Daughteris a fast-paced, thrilling tale of women reclaiming their power in a folkloric battle of the sexes. I can't wait to spend more time in Sullivan's exciting and enchanting world.” – Cass Morris, Authof of From Unseen Fire
“The action in this book begins right away. Readers are pulled in through the first person point of view and are taken on the journey by Faline as she fights for her kind... For those who enjoy paranormal romance, this is a must read.” – InD’tale, Lynn-Alexandria McKendrick
“Urban fantasy with good world-building...Faline’s journey to self-realization and her growth as a leader of the various tribes - and carrying out a revolution - is well-developed in this book.” – Midwest Book Review
Contents
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Wild Women Groups of the United States
Preface
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Sneak Peek of Ishtar’s Legacy
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Acknowledgments
About the Author
About the Publisher
Additional Titles
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Only two Hunter complexes remain in the way of Faline Frey and freedom for all American Wild Women. That is, until harpy Eonza makes a grave mistake in her quest to become pregnant and risks outing her people to the world.
When leaders from Wild Women groups in other countries get wind of the potential exposure, they send their ambassadors to assess the situation. What they find is defected Hunters—the men who have been oppressing Wild Women for decades—helping Wilds.
When Faline aligned with an ex-Hunter, her coterie took it badly. But these foreign Wilds make that look like a walk in the forest. They are ready to declare war on their American sisters for turning against their own kind and helping Hunters. But Faline has an even bigger foe on her tail.
Locked up and staring into the eyes of her worst enemy—the man who took her mother—she realizes just how much she has to lose and the truth behind the years shrouded in mystery.
She has one shot to take freedom for herself and every other Wild Woman. But can she succeed with her hands literally tied behind her back?
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WILD WOMEN GROUPS OF THE UNITED STATES
Huldra—Forest women, able to cover their skin in bark and grow branches from their hands and feet, created by the Goddess Freyja.
Washington Coterie
- Faline
- Shawna
- Olivia
- Celeste
- Patricia
- Renee
- Abigale
- Naomi (missing)
Succubi—Empathic women, able to manipulate and absorb energy, created by the Goddess Lilith.
Oregon Galere
- Marie
- Heather (missing)
Mermaids—Aquatic women, able to shift their legs to a tail and cover their skin with scales, created by the Goddess Atargatis.
California Shoal
- Gabrielle
- Azul
- Elaine
- Sarah
Harpies—Women able to sprout bird-like wings, feathers, and talons, created by the Goddess Inanna.
North Carolina Flock
- Eonza
- Salis
- Lapis
- Rose (missing)
Rusalki—Women tied to nature, able to read minds, practice divination, and cut lives short, created by the Goddess Mokosh.
Maine Coven
- Veronia
- Daphne
- Azalea
- Drosera
- Aconitum (missing)
- Oleander (missing)
Nagin—Women represented by the cobra, able to use kundalini energy to manipulate the energy of a person from the inside, created by the Goddess Wadjet.
United Kingdom
- Anwen
- Berwyn
- Eta
Shé—Women able to change their lower half into a snake tale while in the water. On land they maintain their legs and can grow scales on their body for protection as they play their handmade instrument to change the energy, moods, and thoughts of others, created by the Goddess Nü Gua.
China
- Chen
- Fan
Echidna—Women able to change their lower half to a snake tail for speed, defense, and squeezing their prey, created by the Snake Goddess of Crete, whose name is not uttered or known to outsiders.
Crete
- Calle
- Gerda
Preface
In the Garden of Eden, the ultimate tempter was a snake, evil incarnate. But the serpent was once a symbol of the goddess, for females too shed their lining and yet still they live. Soon, though, the Goddess will rise again, and her snake children will unite to reclaim their life of paradise.
These were the nighttime whispers of Faline’s mother.
The Hunters told a different tale.
One
My day of wine-tasting had not gone as planned, a fact I bemoaned as I flung an elbow at a Hunter’s nose and sloshed pinot noir down my white shirt.
The large, blond Hunter who’d advanced on me, and the four other Hunters he’d brought, wore black cargo pants and black long-sleeved shirts, just like the Hunters back home. They also kept a special dagger concealed on their bodies like my oppressors back home. But they were most certainly not Washington Hunters.
I’d just wanted a trip away.
A vacation. Relaxation between hunting the Hunters and annihilating their complexes, one at a time.
Was that too much to ask? Apparently, yes.
My blow to the Hunter’s face fazed him for all of two seconds before he reached for my hair to lift me off my feet. Bad idea on his part.
I couldn’t tell you how the Hunters found us. How they knew we’d left the state of Washington and ventured into pinot noir country in Oregon.
I could tell you, though, that these weren’t Washington Hunters ruining our little vacation. They knew nothing about defending themselves against huldra. Which was one reason Shawna hid in the corner, half-petting the cat and half-covering her ears. Minutes earlier, my partner sister, Shawna, had grabbed the petite grey and black striped winery cat from atop a square plastic behemoth of a wine container to comfort her in the corner of the winery warehouse.
It’d only been a week since we rescued Shawna from the Washington Hunter complex and soon after the strongest drugs they’d given her had worn off we noticed her huldra abilities were lacking. Somehow the Hunters had muted them. Either that or her fear was muting them.
I smiled, happy to play this male’s game as he lifted me from the floor by my hair.
I let out a screech and kicked my feet, pretending my toes searched for purchase on the cement floor. And I could be mistaken, but I was pretty sure the Hunter smiled too, which only made the moment sweeter. Nice of him to do that for me.
The Oregon Hunter complex had only sent five Hunters to ruin our wine-tasting excursion. Clearly, they were just responding to a suspicion of Wilds and had no idea they’d find the notorious Hunter-burning huldra. Not that they’d given us that name. In fact, there’d been an eerie silence surrounding it all—nothing in the newspapers about a burnt complex and no emails or summons from the Hunters.
Marcus, my ex-Hunter boyfriend, took on the biggest Hunter of the bunch, and my sisters and aunts shared the other three, while my sister, Celeste, escorted the winery owner and his son into the back offices to distract them and keep them from calling the cops. I took in the sight of Marcus fighting for a few moments. How could I not? He looked oh-so-sexy, with muscles bulging the seams of his blue shirt, a color that set off his tanned skin and dark hair quite nicely. These males had no chance, but it was awfully cute how hard they were trying. Well, maybe not cute. Just awful.
When the blond Hunter was confident enough of my impending death to emanate the scent of vanilla and cherry, I stopped pretending to flail my legs and swiped at him. I shot my right hand up and wrapped my fingers around his arm, above his fist clenched in my hair. With my left hand I wiggled my fingers as though I were cursing him with a spell. Vines discharged from the tips of my fingers and wrapped around his neck. Thin branches poked into his wrist from my right hand, and he shook, struggling to hold on despite his new puncture wounds.
He hadn’t been trained to tense his neck muscles. Rooky mistake. Right as Blond Hunter’s face turned a light and lovely shade of blue, and his scent took on the musty iron tone of fear, Huge Hunter sliced through my vines and set his brother free. I retracted the burning vines into my hand and crouched to spring onto my newest foe. Blond Hunter fell to the floor, breaking free of my branches and gasping for air.
“Shit,” Marcus yelled as his right shoulder slammed into Huge Hunter’s back, linebacker style.
Huge Hunter turned to swing a fist at Marcus, who ducked in time to avoid the blow. The missed calculation caused Huge Hunter to stumble forward where my coterie members were willing and waiting to finish him off.
We encircled the last living Hunter in the winery warehouse. He puffed out his chest and tried to force an intimidating growl.
“Leave the growling to the Wild Women,” I suggested. “You’re embarrassing yourself.”
Huge Hunter saved a special scowl for me, one that barely showed the blue of his eyes, and yet overemphasized his stained teeth.
“Let me have him,” Marcus seethed.
I answered Marcus by calling the name of my partner sister. “Shawna,” I said in an almost sing-song voice. Gentle enough to pull her from her probable fetal position in the corner. “You can come out now, it’s safe.”
Marcus caught my gaze and nodded his approval of my plan.
Shawna, cat in tow, eased out from behind the row that stretched the length of the warehouse, stacked three barrels high. A compressor hummed outside the roll-up door, ready to do whatever wine makers did with compressors.
Shawna neared us with slow footsteps. She watched the Hunter, and I couldn’t tell if I saw fear or fury in her brown eyes. She tilted her chin toward her chest, still eyeing the Hunter.
“Your brothers drugged me,” Shawna said under her breath as she moved closer to our circle. “They beat me. Called me awful things. Threatened to rape me.” Her voice shook on that last part.
I shook, too. All of me. It was a heinous thing, using a body to dominate another’s.
Shawna had refused to tell us what’d happened to her at the Hunters’ hands. Refused to give us details, other than to tell us they were awful.
She stood within an arm’s length of Marcus, outside the circle. “Threatened to rape me,” she repeated. “To shatter my temple and leave me to pick up the pieces.”
A guttural growl rose from my partner sister’s throat like nothing I’d ever heard before. Cold shivers covered the back of my neck. The cat she carried hissed and flung itself from her arms. She didn’t notice. She took another step and Marcus moved aside for her to enter the outer circle made mostly of her fellow huldra.
Marcus swallowed loudly and clenched his fists—tell-tell signs that Shawna was setting off Marcus’s Hunter red flags. You could take the Hunter out of the complex, but you couldn’t take the Hunter out of the man. While he was on our side, he still had his instincts—instincts
that reacted to our kind in a negative way. Huge Hunter twitched and clenched and opened his hands. Whatever my sister was putting down, these two Hunters were picking up.
Shawna’s timid steps morphed into those of a lioness seconds before the deadly pounce. She drew up close to the Hunter and my coterie quickly moved behind him to restrain his arms. I stood to one side of Shawna, and Marcus covered her from the other.
“It’s not like in the movies, you know,” Shawna said lightly. “They show the captured woman scared. But fear isn’t a big enough emotion for it.”
She leaned forward and sniffed him. “You don’t wear powerful cologne like the Washington Hunters. Can succubi not smell your emotions?”
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