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| THE WOODS On All Hallows' Eve, Tabian runs away from her life as an unwilling servant and concubine for the men of Mabot’s Keep after the lord’s lustful eyes fall on her. With nowhere safe to escape to, she flees to the forbidden barrier protecting the village from the creatures within Darkwood Forest, and crosses that boundary into the unknown. In the woods an old god lingers, his essence bound to the forest and strengthened by Tabian’s faith in him. Can one mistreated young woman have enough faith in her heart to free a god from his prison? Should she free him at all? |
| Dark Fantasy Sensual Romance |
| THE WOODS is available at: AmiraPress.com E-Book ISBN: 978-1-934475-99-7 |
Excerpt:
A bargained-off slave at the age of five, sold to Lord Mabot in a treaty agreement with her former
homeland, she was a wisp of a young woman. Tabian lacked the round curves and heavy chest like
Arlenna or the other cooks. Too much time spent in the fields had bleached the brown from her hair and
darkened her skin. Her difference made the men of the keep chase after her.
She picked up the wooden god and kissed its carved forehead. “I wish there was a man who loved me.”
She slipped the idol back into her purse and made sure to tie it safely shut. Gathering the woven vine mat
over her legs, she tried to get some more sleep.
She managed to nod off but woke again to a strange sound. A man’s voice, low and cast in song,
reverberated in the forest. The very trees, their limbs rubbing in time to the slow beat, seemed to echo his
tune. Tabian dared to peek out.
He strode along the deer path toward her carrying a carved gourd that was lit like the turnips would be
back in Mabot’s keep. He wore a white robe like the old priests, the ones that the new priests had killed
when they came to the village. Tabian remembered that day, but not very well.
She wondered if he was a ghost or one of the evil spirits set free to roam on All Hallows’ Eve. She knew it
best not to talk to spirits, so she remained quiet and watched his approach. Drifting from the heavens,
moonlight stole into the darkness and lit the stranger from above. It made him glow. Tabian squinted.
Fairy lights danced about the hooded man.
He stopped and bent to set down his gourd.
She ducked behind the lip of the tree hollow, afraid.
The man stopped singing.
She peeked out with one eye to see if he still stood there.
His arms rose, his fingers extended, and he beckoned her to join him. He lifted his head, and even though
the light from his lantern flickered, she saw that his eyes glittered with the same fairy lights that buzzed
around him. He smiled and warmth spread through her body, heating her through and through.
A bargained-off slave at the age of five, sold to Lord Mabot in a treaty agreement with her former
homeland, she was a wisp of a young woman. Tabian lacked the round curves and heavy chest like
Arlenna or the other cooks. Too much time spent in the fields had bleached the brown from her hair and
darkened her skin. Her difference made the men of the keep chase after her.
She picked up the wooden god and kissed its carved forehead. “I wish there was a man who loved me.”
She slipped the idol back into her purse and made sure to tie it safely shut. Gathering the woven vine mat
over her legs, she tried to get some more sleep.
She managed to nod off but woke again to a strange sound. A man’s voice, low and cast in song,
reverberated in the forest. The very trees, their limbs rubbing in time to the slow beat, seemed to echo his
tune. Tabian dared to peek out.
He strode along the deer path toward her carrying a carved gourd that was lit like the turnips would be
back in Mabot’s keep. He wore a white robe like the old priests, the ones that the new priests had killed
when they came to the village. Tabian remembered that day, but not very well.
She wondered if he was a ghost or one of the evil spirits set free to roam on All Hallows’ Eve. She knew it
best not to talk to spirits, so she remained quiet and watched his approach. Drifting from the heavens,
moonlight stole into the darkness and lit the stranger from above. It made him glow. Tabian squinted.
Fairy lights danced about the hooded man.
He stopped and bent to set down his gourd.
She ducked behind the lip of the tree hollow, afraid.
The man stopped singing.
She peeked out with one eye to see if he still stood there.
His arms rose, his fingers extended, and he beckoned her to join him. He lifted his head, and even though
the light from his lantern flickered, she saw that his eyes glittered with the same fairy lights that buzzed
around him. He smiled and warmth spread through her body, heating her through and through.
