by Rusty Wicks
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Whiskey Creek Press
www.whiskeycreekpress.com
Copyright ©2007 by WHISKEY CREEK PRESS
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NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.
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CELTIC LOVE KNOTS VOLUME 4:
MAIDENSONG
& TAMING TULLY
by
Rusty Wicks
WHISKEY CREEK PRESS
www.whiskeycreekpress.com
Published by
WHISKEY CREEK PRESS
Whiskey Creek Press
PO Box 51052
Casper, WY 82605-1052
www.whiskeycreekpress.com
Copyright © 2007 by Rusty Wicks
Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 (five) years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.
Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
ISBN 978-1-59374-957-6
Credits
Cover Artist: Jinger Heaston
Editor: Debbie Doggett
Printed in the United States of America
WHAT THEY ARE SAYING ABOUT
CELTIC LOVE KNOTS VOLUME 4
"I loved Celtic Love Knots, Volume 4 by Rusty Wicks. This is a small volume that is big on entertainment and I had too much fun reading it!...
"Maidensong is clever, and fun, and I enjoyed every bit of it. Dianne's internal dialogue is wonderful and the reader gets a true glimpse into the mind of this character...
"Taming Tully is sharp and witty, with a twist at the end that made me laugh out loud. The premise of this story is enchanting...
"Kudos to Ms. Wicks for a perfectly wonderful read!"
Marlene
Fallen Angels Reviews
Rating: 5 Angels
WHAT THEY ARE SAYING ABOUT
CHRISTMAS CANDY ANTHOLOGY
"Kudos to Whiskey Creek Press Torrid for putting together a fabulous collection of sexy holiday stories by some super talented authors guaranteed to warm the cold winter nights. Not a single entry disappoints. From sexy vamps, and rugged wilderness guides to aggressive elves and romantic ghosts, there's something here for everyone. Highly recommended."
Jennie
Enchanted Ramblings
5 Wands
"Whiskey Creek Press presents Christmas Candy, an anthology featuring some of the best talent in steamy romance. Whether it's a naughty little poem, a moody elf, or a spooky vampire seeking release, these stories will please any reader seeking a little Christmas cheer."
Ash Arceneaux
Rites of Romance Reviews
WHAT THEY ARE SAYING ABOUT
IRISH EYES
"Irish Eyes is steamy romp through the culture and history of Ireland. Ms. Wicks writing is hot and descriptive, a wonderful pairing for a story you can curl up with."
Mira
Paranormal Romance Reviews
WHAT THEY ARE SAYING ABOUT
SUMMER SOLSTICE SCORCHERS ANTHOLOGY
"SUMMER SOLSTICE is a fun-filled anthology which readers of various types of paranormal stories will thoroughly enjoy. Each story provides an entertaining plot, fascinating characters, unexpected events, and truly hot sex. Vampires, fortune tellers, ghosts, witches, demons, wizards and elves all come to life within the pages of this book. Every story is vastly different and I found myself eagerly jumping from one story to the next anticipating yet another fascinating tale. SUMMER SOLSTICE gives readers an exciting opportunity to discover new-to-you authors and several different types of paranormal stories which are represented. It's the perfect way to kick back and enjoy the summer heat."
Rating: 4.5 blue ribbons
Reviewed by Chrissy Dionne, Romance Junkies
WHAT THEY ARE SAYING ABOUT
THE MEAD STEED
"The Mead Steed by Rusty Wicks is a witty contemporary erotic romance ... This is one of those feel-good stories that makes you remember that everyone isn't perfect. Overcoming differences, building relationships and finding happiness are the themes in The Mead Steed. Rusty Wicks has shown us that everyone deserves to love and be loved, even if that means working hard to find it. I was charmed and entertained by The Mead Steed."
Marlen
Fallen Angel Reviews
"The Mead Steed is a fun fast paced story with quite a few well written steamy scenes. It is an enjoyable read ... Rusty Wicks obviously enjoys writing humorous scenes and does a good job in this story. This story is for you if you can't resist a hot man, irresistible girl and a Moose or two thrown in."
Tanya
Joyfully Reviewed.com
Dedication
For Junior
MAIDENSONG
by
Rusty Wicks
Chapter 1
"Interested in Pictish symbols, are you?"
The voice startled her. It came from directly behind her and she whirled around so quickly that she became off-balance. Her body tipped and she banged her shoulder into the ten-foot-high pink granite stone she had been examining.
"Shit!” Dianne cried as she grabbed her shoulder. Stars danced behind her eyelids as the pain raced through her body. When it subsided she opened her eyes.
The owner of the voice was tall and handsome in a rugged sort of way. His hair fell in full ebony curls across his brow and his eyes were a deeper, richer green than the lush grass that they were standing on. He was tall, with broad shoulders and a muscular body and wore the outfit of every hiker in the Scottish highlands: jeans, a woolen sweater and hiking boots. His sweater was a deep loden green that matched his eyes.
"Didn't mean to scare you. Are you all right?” He leaned closer to where she stood, rubbing her shoulder, and looked into her eyes with such intensity that she wondered what he was doing.
"Do I look all right?” she asked, scowling. “And what are you looking for, anyway?"
He pulled away from her and smiled. When he smiled it was as if the sun dimmed, she was so overwhelmed with the way his features moved on his face.
Handsome when you're serious, Lord-have-mercy gorgeous when you're smiling.
"I was looking to see whether or not you had a concussion,” he answered. “Apparently you do not."
"I smacked my shoulder, not my head. And what were you doing, sneaking up on me like that? Did you try to scare me half to death?"
He tilted his head and a lock of black silk fell across his eye. “I am sorry. I didn't mean to scare you at all. And I wasn't sneaking up on you, either. I didn't try to conceal myself in any way."
"So what, then? What were you doing if you weren't trying to scare the pants off me?” She stopped rubbing her shoulder and stood with her hands on her hips, waiting for an answer.
"I was merely trying to meet you, that's all. It's not every day I find a beautiful woman at the Maiden Stone,” he said.
He surveyed her the same way she had examined him. When his eyes met hers again he grinned. “And I did not say I wasn't open to getting your pants off of you, mind.” He waggled his eyebrows rakishly and, coupled with his thick Scottish accent, the effect was hilarious. She threw her head back and laughed out loud, a sound that reverberated through the trees at the edge of the clearing.
"Fair enough. Hard way to meet someone,” she said.
"Ach, I did not say anything about hardness, either,” he answered with a grin. “Let me introduce myself. I'm Cabe Pitts, and you're...” He let his words trail off as he lifted an eyebrow and tilted his head, his intention obvious.
What have I got to lose? A handsome man appears out of nowhere in a romantic spot and wants to know my name—how did I get so lucky? So what if he's broken my shoulder first.
"Dianne Tomes.” She put her hand out to him and when he surrounded it with his big one she felt a distinct jolt. Her nerves tingled and her nipples puckered beneath the thick sweater she wore. And she felt other slippery sensations, too. She rubbed her thighs together as she let his hand go. “Nice to meet you."
"The pleasure, fair Dianne, is all mine. So, what are you doing here, in this magical spot? What brings you here?” Cabe leaned against the mammoth stone and crossed his arms. She saw his muscles tense beneath his jeans as he crossed his legs at the ankles.
This guy is hot. Who knew Scottish men could be so rugged? But where's his kilt? I'd pay to see his legs!
"The Maiden Stone, of course.” Dianne ran a hand across the cool granite, touched her fingers to the carved symbols. “I read about it and decided to look for it when I visited Scotland. I'm staying at the Inverurie Inn for a few days, so here I am."
She realized she was babbling but felt powerless to stop it. He grinned at her as if he knew it, too. She wondered if he had this effect on every woman he met.
I'll bet you drive all the women wild, Cabe. And I'll bet you know that you're doing it, too.
"You'll know, then, the legend of the stone,” Cabe said. He looked at the Celtic cross above his head with a serious expression on his face. “You'll know that this stone is the result of a wish that was granted. It's said that any wish uttered here will come true—eventually."
"I've heard that,” answered Dianne. “This is the spot where a beautiful maiden met a handsome young man, isn't it?"
"Aye."
"And that handsome man pushed her into making a bargain with him,” she said.
"Well, I canna say for sure that he pushed her. It's quite likely that she stumbled or fell but yes, a bargain between the two was struck,” said Cabe, nodding his head.
Dianne leaned against the pink granite. She looked into his green eyes and felt as if she could be sucked into their depths in the blink of an eye.
I don't know if I've ever met a man who's had this effect on me. I feel as if you're a magnet and I'm a thumbtack.
"The bargain was that he said he could build a road before she could bake a loaf of bread,” Dianne said. Being a less-than-stellar baker herself, she knew she'd never have entered into such a bargain.
"Aye."
"And the man built the road before she could bake the bread,” said Dianne. She looked from the stone to the trees that surrounded them then back to the eyes of the man she'd just met. She saw how easy it was to meet a handsome man in this clearing, and her heart broke for the poor young maiden.
"Aye,” Cabe said softly. “And do you know what happened next? Do you ken that, too?"
"Aye,” said Dianne, intentionally echoing his thick Scottish brogue. “She realized he was the devil in disguise, and prayed that she be turned to stone rather than pay her lost wager. She didn't want to become the devil's bride."
"Aye. She made this choice instead,” he said, patting the stone with his large hand. “Some bargain, no? To be turned to stone for all eternity?"
"Better than being the devil's bride, I'd guess,” said Dianne.
"Ach! And how bad could the devil have been, I ask you?” Cabe grinned impishly down at her shocked expression. “Really, fair Dianne. How bad could the old sod have been?"
Chapter 2
"It's nice you're going out for a while,” said Mrs. O'Kelley, the inn's proprietress. She was waxing the already shining banisters when Dianne descended the stairs. “And looking right pretty, you are. Have a good time, Dianne. Stay on the road, mind you. You don't want the glaistig to get you."
Dianne paused, her hand on the front door latch. She turned to face the old woman. “The glaistig? What's the glaistig?"
Mrs. O'Kelley crossed herself three times before she answered. “Ach, you'll know the glaistig when you see it. But by the time you see it, it's already too late. Just stay to the road, and you'll be fine. Trust me.” She went back to her polishing, turning her back on Dianne and effectively ending the conversation.
* * * *
Cabe was waiting for her when she reached the Inverurie Pub. The pub was crowded and Dianne had to squeeze between filled tables and noisy booths to reach the booth in the back where Cabe sat. He rose when she reached him.
"Dianne, I'm glad you found the place.” He motioned for her to slide into the booth, waiting until she was settled before he slid in beside her. “Have any trouble finding the pub?"
She shook her head, remembering the innkeeper's words. “None. I stayed on the road, like Mrs. O'Kelley suggested."
A pint of dark ale appeared by way of a red-haired waitress. Dianne looked around and saw that everyone had a similar pint on the table in front of them. Apparently it was the only drink in the house.
Too funny. I guess there's no sense in asking for a wine spritzer in this place. Or an apple cosmopolitan ... or—heaven forbid!—a margarita. No, I guess it's dark ale or parch.
"Mrs. O'Kelley? What did she have to say?"
Dianne waved her hand in the air between them as if she was swatting at a fly. “Oh, just to keep to the road if I didn't want the glaistig to get me.” She reached for the handle of her heavy mug and felt the chill seep into her fingers.
Cabe threw his head back and laughed. It was a deep, hearty sound that made her shiver at its intensity. His green eyes danced as they found hers and she couldn't help but smile back at him. Her heart gave a lurch at the sudden shared intimacy.
Oh, Cabe, what are you doing to me? I feel shivery inside, like something's taken hold of me. Is it you? Can I be falling for you so quickly?
"Ach, that's rich,” Cabe said. He lifted his pint in salute and she raised hers as well. “To old Mrs. O'Kelley, the most superstitious innkeeper this side of Aberdeenshire."
The ale was cold and hearty. It slid down her throat easily and filled her with its full-bodied flavor.
I could get used to this ale. Very used to it. And the man, too. It wouldn't be hard to become accustomed to looking into those hypnotic green eyes.
"Tell me, Cabe. What is the glaistig, anyway?"
He took a long swallow before he spoke. When he did, it was with a voice that barely contained the laughter she suspected was still just beneath the surface.
"The glaistig, fair Dianne, is a lonely one, she is. A supernatural being, she spends her time looking for unwary travelers. When she finds them, she lures them,” he said matter-of-factly. He finished his ale and signaled for another.
"Lures them?"
"Aye, she lures them astray. She makes them lost, as it were.” He shrugged. “How verra bad can it be to be a bit lost, I ask? Not so bad as most would have it seem."
"And what happens when the unwitting traveler is lured and lost—what then?"
Cabe shrugged again and she noticed how big his shoulders looked beneath his sweater. Her nipples tightened as she watched him and she felt a warmth begin deep within her.
"Ach, who knows? They wander, I suppose. Wander until they find their way."
Dianne looked around the crowded room and wondered how such intelligent people could believe in so many superstitions. It just didn't see
m possible.
Oh, who am I kidding? My Greek grandmother spits on me every chance she gets, giving me good luck with every shower of spit. And my Italian mother, she's convinced that the gold horn she wears will ward off evil. What about Laura's Spanish aunt, Tia Sofia? I don't even want to remember what she did with that chicken foot. No, I guess a glaistig isn't such a far-fetched idea after all.
"What does she look like, Cabe? So I can be sure to run if I see her.” Dianne smiled as she drained her pint. She was surprised at how quickly it disappeared, and at how enjoyable drinking beer had been. She'd never had beer, in any form, before.
"Ach, that's easy. You'll run if you see her, I ken. You'll run verra, verra fast, too,” he said, grinning. He waited until the waitress had deposited another two full pints on the table before he continued. “She looks like a woman on top, but on the bottom she looks like a goat!"
Chapter 3
Cabe drove her back to the inn in his shiny black pickup truck. He drove the long way back but still the ride was over too quickly to suit either of them. He parked beneath a spreading chestnut tree and turned off the ignition. For a few moments the only sound was the ticking of the cooling engine.
When they spoke, it was at the same instant.
"Thanks for the—"
"I'm glad you—"
They stopped and laughed. Their laughter filled the cab of the truck and any awkwardness between them disappeared.
"I'm sorry, Cabe. You go first. What were you going to say?"
He shook his head. “No, I'm sorry for interrupting you, fair Dianne. What were you trying to say to me?"
She looked up into his face. Somehow they had edged closer on the long, wide seat while they laughed. Now she was very close to him, near enough to smell the spicy scent of his aftershave lotion.
"I just wanted to thank you,” she said softly. “I had a great time tonight."
"Aye, I did as well. I'm glad you consented to come out with me tonight.” His voice was seductive and she found herself hanging on his every word. “I mean, with me being a stranger and all. I'm verra glad you felt me trustworthy enough to spend an evening with. Verra glad."
