Star Crossed Lovers Boxed
Set
Christine Young
achristay@aol.com
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BLURBS
The Gift
A man and a woman on
opposite sides of the Civil War get a second chance at love after one final
battle returns soldiers to their war-torn homes to rebuild their lives.
Star Crossed
Ireland in 1817, when
tensions are high between Protestants and Catholics and faey people guide the
fate of villagers. A lovely Catholic lass stumbles upon the weakly ritual
fisticuffing between Irish lads. She falls into the lap of a handsome young
Protestant. Family ties, grudges, and two conniving faeries threaten their
budding love. But the faeries outsmart themselves when they hijack a time machine
that has mysteriously appeared in their forest.
Highland Miracle
HURTLED THROUGH TIME, Sean Michael Sterling, landed in
the midst of a May Day celebration he didn’t understand, assuming the role of
Laird Sterling.
ILLIGITAMATE CHILD OF NOBILITY, Reagan Douglas searches
for a way out of her half brother’s house.
EXCERPTS
The Gift
"Get
in the house, now!"
"Mama?"
Elice
Weld shielded her eyes and watched the ground fog rising in the distance. She
didn't know what was coming her way, but she could guess. The rumors that a
Union cavalry unit was in the vicinity had spread like a wildfire on a Kansas
prairie.
Rain
had fallen all morning. Now the clouds had separated, and the sun heated the
earth, causing the evaporation of the water-soaked ground. The cavalry rode
through the mist like dark, avenging wraiths bent on the destruction of all
mankind. She could see seven men silhouetted on the horizon.
"Izzy,
go." Elice didn't want to frighten her daughter but the urgency of the
moment could not be denied.
"But
mama?"
"Go
to the cellar. Now."
"It's
dark."
Izzy's
voice echoed in Elice's head, filling her with a wild panic she didn't know how
to stop. Every time soldiers approached she was terrified. The last four years
had been the longest years of her life. "Do as I say, quickly." Elice
hugged her daughter, turning her at the same moment and with a gentle shove
sent her through the open door of her house.
"Izzy."
Elice
knew the panic in her voice would mobilize her young daughter. She despised the
fear and the terror. She loathed the war. She looked up. The fog was
dissipating, and she could see the dark blue of the Union coats. She didn't
have anything left for the soldiers to take. Good God, they'd taken everything
already--everything save her daughter and her hope for the future.
She
inhaled a quick breath then stood on the steps, hands folded together in front
of her, watching the dark wraiths inch closer. She knew from experience she
couldn't fight these men. She would do as they said and when they left, she
would put the pieces of her life back together.
Until
the next time…
"Mama,"
Elice jumped when her daughter tugged on her skirt before looking at her with
sorrow-filled eyes. "Are the soldiers going to take my doll?"
"No,"
Elice ruffled her little girl's hair. "Go back inside. Go to the cellar
and don't come out until I tell you it's safe."
"What
about you?"
"I'll
be fine." But Elice knew she might be lying to her child. She wasn't
always fine when the soldiers invaded their home. "Now go and don't make
me say it again. Stay there until I come for you."
Izzy
nodded before she turned and walked through the parlor to the stairs leading to
the cellar.
Star Crossed
Casey pushed on the green grass, trying to
unwind herself from the man beneath her, but fell again. All right, Casey lass, you're in a heap of trouble right now with no
way out. You are seeing the earth whirl and tumble around and you're on top of
a brute of a man--a Protestant.
"All right, lads, we'll meet here next
Sunday, same place, same time," her brother's voice filtered through the
air as if it floated in the fog that surrounded Casey.
Once again she pushed on the damp grass and
didn't seem to make headway, her arms feeling as if they'd changed to soggy
twine. Don't you abandon me, Patrick
O'Connell. You know I have the Devil's own luck. If you leave me here, I'll
never forgive you.
"What about Casey?" one of her
brother's friend asked. "She looks a little worse for the encounter."
"Do you think we should leave her
here--with Kelly?"
"He's a right stand-up guy. Of course you
can leave her here. We'll see her home," a Shaunasey said.
"Well, Kelly is a fine bloke. He won't hurt
her. In fact with my feisty lil' sister involved, I fear for him--not
her," Patrick said laughing. "She'll do as she pleases. She always
does. How can I control her when father cannot? She does not need a second
father." He shrugged his shoulder and looked behind him at his little sister
as he strolled down the hill.
"She's hurt," another friend called
after Patrick. "What kind of brother are you?"
"One who is tired of looking after an
accident prone little lass. She has to take responsibility for herself
sometime, does she not?"
"She is that," one commented.
"You rescue her night and day."
~ * ~
"You should have
blessed her with a wee bit o'Irish coordination," Oran said dryly as he
flew to a hovering position near the girl.
"And you should
remember what our blessed mother told us, 'if you cannot say anythin' nice,
don't say anything at all'." Moya rose above the flower petal, her wings
buzzing with her anger toward her brother.
"I didn't say
anything that wasn't the truth." Oran whistled out of tune for a moment.
"We could kidnap them."
"And that is your
solution to everything?" Moya pointed one finger at him and shook it.
"Why, Oran, I believe you may fancy the lass for yourself. I will not have
it. Go play your tricks on someone else's charge. She is mine to see to safety
and long life. And don't be forgettin' the lad is yours to watch over."
"You best stem
your anger, Moya. You're wings have turned golden," Oran said with a
hearty chuckle.
~ * ~
"Let Kelly handle her," Casey's
brother said with a light chuckle. "He lost and so he must deal with the
object of that loss and assume the consequences. It's only fair."
"Hey!" Kelly said, "Don't leave
me here with your sister. It will be hell to pay. She's a little girl. What
will your father say?"
The others laughed. "Just don't take too
long to decide what to do with her. Little girl or not, father will come after
you with his pistol."
I just turned eighteen
years old--little girl--how dare he…
"Bloody hell, Patrick. What are you
thinking?" Kelly cried out.
"I'm thinking the Catholics won this fight.
What are you thinking?" Patrick turned his back on the pair and whistled a
jaunty tune as he strolled down the hill.
"Revenge will be sweet. Next Sunday…"
Kelly shook his fist at the departing back of Casey's brother.
From what seemed like a great distance Casey
heard the moan emanating from inside her battered and bruised body. She
squished her eyes together, wishing her head didn't pound so fiercely, and the
ground spin so wildly. "Who are you?" she whispered next to the man's
chest while a soft spring breeze whispered against her heated face.
"Who am I?" the man chuckled.
"Lass, you are the one who landed atop me. I should be inquiring into who
you are? Only I know." His hands rested around her waist and squeezed as
if he were testing--perhaps exploring--entirely inappropriate. Yet for some
strange reason, Casey didn't mind the supposed to be unwanted attention. "And I don't think your brother should have
left you here with the likes of me. I'm afraid I've landed myself in a
dangerous predicament. And I'm thinkin' one that will be very hard to
explain."
"Shame on you," Casey said. "You
take liberties." The words stole her breath and she had to lean on Kelly
once more in order to minimize the pounding of her head and the strange
feelings emanating from where his hands were.
"I only want to remove you
from--my--ah--person. And if I were taking liberties with you, lass, you'd be
near swooning with passion."
"Ah, it seems you are a wee bit
arrogant," she opened her eyes and gazed into the bluest eyes she'd ever
seen. "The color of a summer sky," she whispered to him, still
feeling woozy and not quite sure what he'd just told her--but thinking at the
moment something besides the fall caused the earth to spin and the sky to tilt
with a crazy, wild abandon.
"What is, lass?"
"Your eyes," she said, struggling
against him and finally rolling to the side so she lay sprawled on the grass,
staring into the sky she'd referred to a moment earlier and watching a white
billowy cloud float past. "I'm not a little girl," she told him.
"Don't ever call me that again."
"Then you want me to tell lies?" he
asked with a lazy half-smile that stole Casey's heart and left her floundering.
"I dinna think I can do that."
"It isn't a lie," she said, trying to
sound indignant, yet frustrated beyond anything she'd ever felt before.
Highland Miracle
New
York City 1895
"I dinnae ken what this contraption could
be. I must be aff my heid," he said reverting back to the old language his
great grandfather had spoken from time to time.
Sean Michael Sterling walked around the tall red object he'd just come
across in Central Park. His heart thundered with the realization this was an
anomaly and for some reason...
"Is this a fire hydrant?" he murmured
totally intrigued. Cautiously stepping closer, he rested a hand on the object
of his fascination. The hackles on the back of his neck stood on end. The thing
was smooth and touching it sent shivers up his spine. If this was a hydrant, it
sure could hold a ton of water.
For some reason... his mind shifted and he
thought time machine—Jules Verne—his favorite book.
He leaned in and smelled, nothing, just the
scent of metal. He didn't recognize the odor. When he stepped back, he caught a
hint of Daphne floating on the air. A slight breeze sifted through the meadow,
filling his senses with new cut grass, wet dog, and something he couldn't quite
identify.
Thoughts of pixie dust came to mind.
I am
off my head.
A small dog ran around his heels, yipping and
barking. "Crazy dog." Sean leaned down and rubbed the dog's ears.
“You look like a bandit. Wonder where you came from? Go on, now. Where's your
owner?"
The dog sat down, wagging his tale and stared
at him. It seemed the animal was telling him he wasn't going anywhere. "Now, Bandit, you need to go find your
owner. I'm not one to be taking you home with me. Don't think my landlord would
appreciate a dog in the building."
Strangely he was the only one in the park, or
at least this corner of it. The sound of carriages could be heard in the distance.
He suddenly felt isolated and completely alone. The damn thing compelled him to
know more, seeming to reach out to him and beckon. An eerie keening started in
the back of his mind and grew. The impulse to explore overwhelmed him. Even as
he looked at the machine, his mind cautioned him to stay away, but his
curiosity sprouted to an uncanny level.
A little voice in the back of his head urged
him forward. Damn, but he needed to go home. His stomach growled complaining of
hours without food. His eyes burned from the fire he'd just been on and his
body cried out for sleep. Rubbing his sooty hair, he muttered to himself.
But thoughts of what was inside this monster
contraption intrigued him more than the demands of his body.
Walking around the monstrosity, he kept his
hand on the metal all the while looking for an opening. What shocked him and what was more surprising
was the fact that little Bandit found the opening for him.
Bandit sat down in front of what appeared to be
a door and stared at him again. It seemed to Sean that Bandit dared him to see
what was inside. Well, he'd never been a man who could resist a straight on
challenge.
Caution...
He inhaled a long and very deep breath. Closing
his eyes he counted to ten. Even though the day was cool, sweat beaded on his
forehead. He walked into fires, lifted burning timber, and he'd never really
been afraid a day in his life.
This contrivance terrified him.
Nerves snapping, Sean pushed on the door. It
slid sideways, revealing a dark abyss. He stepped back. Fear raced through him,
caution cried out to him but he ignored all warnings.
Curiosity propelled him forward.
Bandit ran inside. "No," Sean cried
out. "Dinnae....
Silence chilled him to the bone and a cold
sweat broke out on his body. Birds chirped in nearby trees.
All seemed right with the world—except for this
machine.
"Come here." He crouched down and
called to Bandit. Bandit didn't budge. Instead the dog cocked his head to one
side and seemed to be saying. You come
here.
Sean wavered then stood his ground. Bandit
seemed to like it in the machine.
And yet...
An extraordinary golden dust swirled around
him, warming him like a golden rain.
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