Eternity’s Mark – A Fantasy Romance
Destiny’s call isn’t always gentle. Sometimes it bellows like a beast.
The sacred blood of the last remaining Draecna Guardian flows through Hannah MacPherson’s veins. She just doesn’t know it, and even if she did, she wouldn’t believe it. She believes in reality. Nothing else. Widowed by the Iraq war, she’s now the best and only veterinarian in the tiny town of Jasper Mills, and she’s made it painfully clear to any man foolish enough to try that she is not available and never will be. All she wants is a quiet life in the country taking care of her four-legged patients, and she’ll do whatever it takes to preserve that life—including ignoring scammy emails and letters about an inheritance in Scotland.
Then Taggart de Gaelson shows up, claiming to know more about her than she ever fathomed. As Hannah’s ordained Protector, he intends to retrieve her and enlighten her about her divine calling. The balance of the Continuum depends on the sacred Draecna who maintain the strength of the portals. Only Hannah’s touch can release this era’s hatchlings from their eggs—the hatchlings destined to take the place of the elderly Draecna guarding the portals.
Sworn to protect Hannah from all others who lust for control of the creatures, Taggart must win her trust. But as he battles at her side, she stirs a longing he must never pursue. A Protector is forbidden to love a Guardian—to do so risks everything and no one can protect his precious Hannah as well as he can.
As the 2011 winner of RT Magazine’s Writing with the Stars contest, this romantic fantasy of dragon-like creatures, shifters, forbidden love, and worlds that exist beyond magical portals will make you laugh, cry, and stay up entirely too late to find out what happens. Escape to Taroc Na Mor and Erastaed with Hannah and Taggart and leave reality behind!
Previously published in 2012, this revised edition with its fresh new cover contains additional scenes never before published.
Greyson won last year’s Writing With the Stars contest with this story, inhabited by both sinister and likable creatures. Her attention to detail, such as the endearing mannerisms of the young dragons, results in characters that are really fleshed out — or, maybe we should say “scaled out,” since the dragons seem as real as the humans. A strong heroine, fantasy, a battle of good vs. evil, magic and romance — what more could you ask for? Reviewed by Joyce Morgan, RT Book Reviews, 4 Stars
Taroc Na Mor
Nursery of the sacred Draecna
Northernmost tip of Scotland
Still no word from the stubborn woman. She must be oblivious to her worth. Taggart fisted his hands on the desk, glaring at the calendar. How long had it been? How many letters had she ignored? Precious time was running out. With her continued silence, she forced his hand. She left him no choice but to demand her attention.
“Thaetus, how long since we sent the last missive?”
Thaetus tossed a bundle on the table. The thwack of the twined mail packet echoed to the vaulted ceiling. “Long enough for the signed receipt to return, stating she received it and disregarded it. Again.”
Taggart shoved his rolling chair back from the large mahogany desk. “How can she not reply? Not even a negative response. What in bloody Hades is wrong with her? Shouldn’t she be curious? Are mortals not known to be nosy wee beasties?”
Thaetus shrugged while peering down his beak-like nose over a pair of dilapidated wire-rimmed spectacles. “If not nosy, I thought Americans were at least a greedy bunch. One would think she would thrill at discovering she had inherited a piece of land as fine as Taroc Na Mor.”
Taggart shoved up from the chair and strode across the lush carpet to the window. Hand splayed on the damp, cold pane; he stared down into the bleak courtyard below. Instead of lovingly, well-tended roses stood a thorny hedge shot full of weeds. Moss-covered flagstones broken and heaved out of place by invading roots of nearby oaks. Shrubbery in dire need of a trim was laced with marauding ivy that climbed higher, searching for a hold in the keep’s damaged masonry. A mournful howl filtered up from the secret caverns running deep beneath the castle. The estate appeared forgotten; the buildings abandoned and battered by the ravages of time.
He exhaled a ragged breath. His Taroc Na Mor, his precious sanctuary. In ruin. The stark vista tore at his heart. Very few individuals on this side of the sacred threshold realized the true importance of this acreage in the remote Highlands. Taroc Na Mor symbolized so much more than a bit of forgotten land. It was his race's beloved holy ground, and he had failed it in his duty as protector and lord. His helpless charges patiently waited in the depths below. It made him grind his teeth until his jaw nearly cracked. He slammed a fist into the wall. No more waiting. He would get the woman’s attention.
“Hannah MacPherson leaves me no choice. Enough of these certified packets and the blasted receipts she signs and tosses aside!” He turned from the dingy, frost-covered window. “I will go to this place, this Jasper Mills, and track her down. I will speak with her. Face to face.”
“When ye say ye will go to this place . . .” Thaetus paused. With his thin hand resting on the brass handle of the door, his wispy brows hiked to an expectant angle.
“I must use this world’s backwards conveyance. Get me an airline ticket, aye? I shall blend in with the general population as much as possible. We must ease Ms. MacPherson into the ways of Taroc Na Mor. If we are to convince her to stay and become a part of our lives, we must not to frighten her away.”
“As ye wish.” Thaetus closed the door softly behind him.
Taggart turned back to the window. “Ye will come here Hannah MacPherson. One way or another.”