Shee Willow-Legend

By Claudy Conn

Half-human, half-Fae, Willow Lang has never felt she truly fit in either world, but she’s doing her best to ignore her Fae nature and focus on her work as an art restorer at a museum in New York City. Then she accepts a job restoring classic paintings in Ireland and finds herself in the middle of a conflict between the Seelie Fae and the evil Dark Fae. In order to protect the Human world, she must embrace her Fae powers.

But that’s not the only challenge Willow faces. Roland Omren, a handsome gypsy, is vying for her affection. The hunky Fae Breslyn, Prince of Dagda, is trying to seduce her. And then there’s her mysterious boss, Shayne Bantry...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Claudy Conn
• Release date: Nov 8, 2011
• ISBN: 9781465720047

Claudy Conn

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author, Claudy Conn is a multi published author who got her start with her bestselling historical/regency romances.She tells us that she fell in love with the fantasy/paranormal genre and created a world of paranormal.She hopes you will read and enjoy and join her on her facebook where she loves to interact with her readers.page.http://www.facebook.com/pages/Claudy-Conn-Paranormal-Romance-Author/135826686471445

Book preview

~ Prelude ~

THE WAR WITH the dark Unseelie Fae has already begun. Humans need to know how to protect themselves.

Although we (the Seelie Fae) have stood between humans and the dark Fae, they are escaping in numbers too great to contain, and they are coming for you!

The prison wall that kept the Dark Fae in their Dark Realm has been breached. We used a great deal of our skills—and magic—to keep that wall intact, but it has been dangerously thinning. They escaped in small numbers, but there is another threat—their new and sinister leader whom you may already have met.

His name is Gaiscioch.

The Unseelie creatures (one shrinks to call them Fae, for in most respects they are very different) have been, from the moment they were created, a venomous, bitter, and malevolent race of ill-formed life. They have always wanted human contact. They want it still, and that is not good.

Gaiscioch was one of our own. He turned his back on his own kind. We dubbed him a renegade Seelie. He took refuge in the Dark Realm, and in return for their allegiance, he promised the monsters freedom. He promised them our Fae and human worlds.

Gais freed some of the lower castes through various portals he was able to create before our great Seelie Queen Aaibhe managed to shut them down.

Although Gaiscioch was trapped in the Dark Realm of the Unseelie, he has been hard at work. He found ways to open the gap in the wall, and he will try to make those slits wider. He will need large enough portals for his Unseelie army, and his goal is to bring that army through to your human world—soon.

Gais has no love for the Unseelie, but he has an agenda all his own, and he needs the miserable, heinous things for his war.

The Unseelie monsters have never been free to walk your Earth in such numbers.

Until now …

* * *

We Seelie Fae have always been fond of our Druids.

Some humans thought they might be Fae descendents; perhaps in a way they are.

Humans speak of them as a mysterious group and have written a great deal about the Druid community. They have always been, as they should be, a secretive and select entity, and there is nothing like the skills and abilities of a high Druid priest/priestess.

A Druid priest was sorcerer, oracle, sage, and tribe leader in the Druid, tight-knit communities. He was the mediator between the physical world and the spirit realm. The Druid priests or priestess’ controlled the knowledge and the secrets of their small tribes. They did and do …

Druid priests still have the power to cause storms, and they have many gifts and abilities, given to them by us—the Seelie Fae.

In return for their special gifts, they have for over a thousand years enacted the four rituals that help maintain the prison walls. Druid women, as well as female Fae, have always been regarded as equals to males and had the power to conduct these rituals as well.

And now more than ever, the World—each of our worlds—needs our Druids.

My Fae queen has recruited her loyal Druid high priests. She said they are the answer to this quickly overwhelming problem. She put her trackers out searching for a way to capture Gaiscioch. She managed and placed her Fae warriors in strategic positions.

Even so, the escaped Unseelie are unthinking creatures of horror and are already feeding indiscriminately in the human world. They are even allowing themselves to be seen before they kill, just for the sheer pleasure of witnessing the terror in their victims’ faces. And their numbers—their numbers are becoming almost too great to contain.

And so, Gaiscioch has set his stage, and the greatest battle the human world has ever seen has already started.

Who am I?

Princess Ete, royal cousin to the Seelie Fae queen.

~ Prologue ~

Heav’n but the Vision of fulfill’d Desire,

And Hell the Shadow of a Soul on fire,

Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam

I HAVE ALREADY introduced myself. I am Ete, royal Fae princess and cousin to the Seelie queen, Aaibhe, and I should tell you at the outset, I have been suffering unrequited love for a Fae prince (whom some of you may already know).

His name is Breslyn, Prince of the Royal House of Dagda of the Tuatha Dé Danaan.

This is not an infatuation. No simple ‘taken’ here. Love is what it is, and who wouldn’t be in love with him? He is, even amongst the best of the Fae, a hunky, beautiful, honorable prince. However, he tells me that I am too young for him, and he has always thought he cannot commit to forever because we are an immortal race—forever, for us, is the real deal.

If that wasn’t enough of a hurdle to get over, I also have had to compete with human women. He has always adored humans—especially human women. Although I haven’t wanted to, I must admit that for the most part humans are quite an endearing lot.

I know that he prefers giving his affection to human women because that ‘forever’ is less than a century. I have heard him say to his friends that he can only deal with one hundred years or so with a woman constantly by his side.

He has just come away from his last adventure with humans. He lost his ‘Lia’ to a Druid priest. He was best man at their wedding. However, he still cannot believe that a mere mortal bested him. It made me giggle—it still does.

It was hard to believe, however, for he is a stunning royal Fae for a Druid priest to compete against. His height—well over six foot. Dark blonde, slicked-back hair frames his oh-so-handsome face. Warrior built, and I do so wish he would see me as more than a child. I am his younger sister’s best friend, and that seemed to disturb him as well.

At any rate, the queen gave us a new mission. She said that we have to find a way to capture the traitor Gaiscioch and strengthen the thinning walls between the worlds of Fae and Man. Easier said than done, but it threw us together—just what I wanted.

I know that he felt something for me when he saved me from Gais just a few months ago. I saw want in his eyes when he looked at me then …

However, there is a new human woman in the mix—part of our mission. I am most distressed. Once more he will work closely with yet another beautiful woman, and this one … this Willow Lang is not what she seems …

~ One ~

MY NAME—WILLOW Lang. So much has happened that you need to know, so I will start at the beginning—but first, I’ll give you some stats.

How I got to the ripe old age of twenty-three and still remained sane is beyond me. Maybe I’m not sane. I have been told that my pale blonde, very thick, very long hair catches the eye. Eyes? Mine are violet. Come on, you say, but yes, they are violet, like the flower. That is an accident of birth—I take no credit for it.

I stand about five foot three in my stocking feet, and I have a really good figure. Now, please don’t think I am being immodest. I am not, because in spite of all that, I know, have always known, I am a freak!

Let me explain.

I should first give you a little history of the Tuatha Dé (the Fae). They came to Ireland before the beginning of history. They are immortal, which means they don’t get sick, they don’t age past their maturity (which generally looks about twenty-eight to thirty years old), and more often than not, they get sadly, dangerously bored. When they get so bored that they are ready to off themselves, they look for really good entertainment.

Apparently to many of the Fae, humans provide that entertainment for them.

So you should know right up front, I am not quite human. My father is Tuatha Dé.

Yep—an alien, ancient race from the World Danu. No Tinker Bells, no flitting about, tiny winged things. The Seelie Fae are tall, bold, and many of them (male and female alike) have been warriors and are built along those lines. All of them are almost too beautiful to look at (especially the members of the Seelie four Royal Houses). Their eyes are iridescent (unless they have taken human Glamour).

Glamour is something they use to disguise the alien in themselves, which can be seen in the iridescence of their eyes.

My mom was human, but a very unusual kind.

I guess my eyes are such a unique shade of violet because of the combination of my dad’s many-colored thing going on in his Fae eyes and the deep blue of my mom’s. At any rate, my dad enjoyed describing how totally, completely, and madly in love with my mom he was. I always knew my mom was even more totally and madly in love with him. They both doted on me.

My mom died when I was ten years old.

Okay, what does all that really mean, you ask? It meant that from the start I never belonged in either world—freak.

I didn’t belong in Tir (the world of the Fae), and although here in Wilmington, North Carolina, was where I lived, where I grew up, I didn’t completely fit in with my peers here either.

In spite of that, we were really a very happy family. It felt like we were always laughing. My dad spent a great deal of his time here with us, and although sometimes he would have to go to Tir on Fae matters, he was content living with us in Wilmington. I was content hiding my Faeness and pretending to be all human.

My dad was what anyone would call a serious hunk. His hair, blond, like mine. His height just over six-foot (like most Fae), and his build athletic. He was a musician on the Isle of Tir and even dabbled a bit down here until he got too much notoriety. (Fae need anonymity amongst humans.)

My mom met him when she was eighteen. Dad doesn’t age, but when a Fae reaches maturity, he usually takes the Glamour of the form closest to what he looks like. He was about ten thousand years old, but he looked about twenty-eight to thirty when they met in Wilmington at a rock concert, fell in love, and were married shortly thereafter. My grandma didn’t like him, by the way—she still doesn’t.

Ten years later, he looked the same, and my mom although still young and beautiful was twenty-eight. He didn’t want her to age. He didn’t want her to grow old without him. He didn’t want to go on living his immortal life without her. Simply put, Dad didn’t want Mom to die a human death.

He had a solution. He petitioned the queen of Fae, Aaibhe, for a very special elixir. She granted him his wish. Dad was ecstatic. He began insisting Mom take the elixir of immortality to stop her aging. After months of his insistence, mom finally agreed, but before she had a chance to do so, she was jogging on her way home to us after her morning run in the park and she was hit by a drunk driver—a drunk driver in the morning—and killed!

For weeks and weeks I felt alone. I had lost my mom whom I adored, and my father was so struck with grief that he was a basket case.

Summer vacation was approaching when Dad suddenly took me by the hand and said we were going to Tir. It wasn’t the first time we had been there together. He had taken my mom and me there for a day or two at a time over the years. The problem with that was their time doesn’t work like ours. A day or two in the world of Fae could be almost two to three weeks on Earth. And there is no figuring it out. It is not an absolute. The time difference varies. Very inconvenient.

Thus, Dad told Grandma we would be back soon and she gave him an unending argument, but off we went. He touched my shoulder, we shifted through space, and there we were on Tir. (Shifting is the Fae’s mode of locomotion. Think of it as parting the airwaves and then stepping through the tunnel it creates.)

The Isle of Tir is multi-faceted. It has a mountain range. It has a beach to rival the Caribbean, it has gardens, and it has fields, piney forests, and lakes of all sizes. Tir is … absolutely breathtakingly, beautiful. Color rivals the rich hues of a Disney cartoon. Everything in Tir is wildly vibrant. Flowers, waterfalls, trees of every imagination, and birds of all kinds sing, spread their beautiful wings, and everywhere you look … you find beauty.

My father is Fae, but he is not royalty. Even so, his wonderful estate was on the edge of a river, and there were animals of every kind roaming around. As a child, I was at first quite content.

I was also getting quite an education. There are many things Fae are taught as they attain their maturity. My father tended to that from the moment I started to walk, but on Tir that summer he put me in a class with other Fae young just about my age.

There are not many Fae young—their ability to reproduce has diminished over time.

Right, so there I was with other Fae young, some older, some younger than I was.

Disaster! I felt like it was the end of my world. They looked at me like I was some kind of freak, and I was dubbed the ‘Faeling’.

You know the story of ‘Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer’. None of the other reindeer would play with Rudolph, and none of the other Fae would play with me. Their words, their actions, and their obvious hatred of what I was made me cry nearly every single day of the first week that I was there.

By the end of the month, my dad noticed that something was really wrong and discovered what was happening to me. He stormed around. He let loose on our teacher (who felt much as the children did about me), and then he took my hand and shifted us home to Wilmington.

Our month on the Isle of Tir had cost me a year in the human world.

I didn’t age in that year, but life had just gone on without me on Earth. And Grandma was fit to be tied. My grandmother was absolutely beside herself with relief to have me back. She knew my secret, and she and I shared another secret as well.

I don’t know if you have ever heard of a Shee Fios/Shee Seer? It is a human (usually a woman) who can see past the Glamour a Fae uses as a disguise, and a Seer can see past the cloak of invisibility called the Féth Fiada. In addition to that ability, many Seers have the gift of precognition or what some call inspired sight.

Okay, this is a lot to throw at you all at once, but you’ll settle in and get the hang of it as we go along.

Grandma was determined to keep me out of Tir forever. Good—so was I.

Dad asked Grandma to move in with us and be there for me, as he wanted to be able to spend some time in Tir. Without Mom, our world did not hold the lure it once held for him. Now, don’t be thinking he neglected me. He didn’t.

However, a little depression had taken hold of me for a time. My mom was gone. My dad was on Tir, and my dad was Tuatha Dé, a member of another race. I didn’t fit in Tir—where they thought of me as a faeling—and if I wanted to fit in the human world I would always have to hide what I was.

Couldn’t and didn’t confide in my closest friend. She would have thought I was nuts, and Fae don’t want their presence known amongst humans. That was built into me.

At least I could pretend to be a one-hundred-percent-human child and survive, and like most, I survived my childhood.

Dad was always around. He would pop in frequently, spend some time with me, and pop out. Grandma never liked him, and never will, but I adore my dad.

When I was sixteen, Dad wanted me to go back to the Isle of Tir with him, just for my summer vacation. He said he would have me back in time for my senior year of high school. He wanted it so badly that I finally gave in and said okay. I dreaded it.

When we first arrived at our home on Tir, I stuck close to the grounds. On my second day, Dad insisted I accompany him to the palace to listen to him jam with some other musical Fae.

It was there, at the palace, on my second day in Tir, that I saw Valtye. I felt … slammed!

My mind said, Holy shit! I looked at him and felt my world rock. Fireworks went off in my mind. I felt the earth tremble beneath my sandals, and I heard a bell toll. It said very clearly that I was meant for him. I was sixteen, after all.

If he were human he would have been about twenty years old. In Fae years he was about one thousand years old. He was tall and completely tantalizingly well built, and his hair was a copper-tinged gold. I had my first teen crush.

I couldn’t believe it, but he noticed me at once and came right over to take my hand and put it to his sensuous lips as he introduced himself. When he said his name, it felt like the blood in my veins sizzled. My heart pounded out his name—Valtye. Oh, I fell fast …

The next few days found us dancing together at a concert at the open-air music grounds near the palace, and then we went on a picnic.

I had my first kiss during that picnic. Not my first Fae kiss, but my first kiss ever! It was wonderful. It was all any sixteen-year-old could hope her first kiss would be and of course ruined me for any other kisses thereafter.

You know since then I have had other kisses—not an extraordinary number, but my fair share, and unfortunately not a one compared to that first kiss.

Then, one afternoon I was supposed to meet Valtye in the park.

Fae have many abilities. As I mentioned earlier, shifting is how Fae get to place to place quickly. It allows them to instantly travel wherever they wish. Just a bit more advanced than a Beam me up, Scotty. It is mostly science with a touch of magic for concealment.

Because of my Faeness, I can shift, but I have always liked to walk. I don’t shift unless I have to—I always enjoyed exercise, and I have grown accustomed to behaving as human as possible. Fitting in has always been a paramount goal. However, I can do nearly all things Fae. The largest difference between a ‘faeling’ and a Fae is the fact that I am not immortal.

This one afternoon, I had been with my dad all day and was running late. So I decided to shift to the Park. I arrived and thought Valtye wasn’t there yet, so I took a little walk and stopped when I heard his voice on the other side the of shrubbery as he conversed with his friend.

"What, Aonghas—don’t be daft! You can’t think I really care for her? She is a faeling. I am merely amusing myself for a time."

It looked like more than that, Valtye. I think you really like the half-breed.

Well, I don’t. I don’t give a rat’s ass for her, Valtye said with so much disgust that I felt my heart actually physically contract. I wanted to cry, but I didn’t. I made myself listen. I wanted to remember this. I wanted to keep myself from ever being hurt again.

What then is it? said Aonghas.

Well, have you looked at her? She is an exceptional beauty, but it is more than that. She has the passion of a human. That is what I am after. When I am done … then you can try her on for size.

That was all I needed to hear. I would remember it always, and every single time I do remember it, I cringe.

I shifted to my dad’s house, left a note for my father, and shifted back to Wilmington. I have never been back to Tir since.

~ Two ~

THAT WAS THEN, but it helped form who I am. I keep myself really well insulated.

I know what you are saying. I should have the smarts to know that was just one Fae and not all Fae are like that. I get it. But, you see … I don’t fit in with the Fae—they think I am not really one of them.

Humans don’t know what I am, but as I have said, I don’t fit in with them either, but at least that is just in my head.

You are saying, Nonsense. Put it behind you. Time to grab a guy and fall in love. Make it a human male …

However, I have thought it all out. The problem is multi-sided. I am not entirely human. So what do I do? Match up with some trusting guy, and then he finds out I am part alien race? If I hid it from him and then we had a child … my child would have Fae in her—so what then?

It is a problem that has haunted me for years. I kept my shield in place. I kept my blinders on. I can’t have a relationship with a man. My secret has kept me pinned to a world of isolation. There are no eligible men for me, and it has been a great and sad inconvenience.

In other words, it sucks! There have been times when I really wanted to hook up with someone I met, and then bam I got hit with all the warnings in my head.

Sex, you say? What about some hot sex at least? Right, I quite agree. My problem has been the fact that I can’t seem to separate sex and love (or the fantasy). I have tried, but as soon as I thought about that kind of intimacy, I found myself mooning about ever-lasting ‘foreverness’ and how perfect it would be if I could meet someone I could share all my secrets with. My secrets are extraordinary …

So instead, I poured myself into getting an education. I majored in art and got my degree at UNC at Wilmington. (My grandma wasn’t ready to let me go too far, so I stayed close to home for her.)

My Fae smarts have always helped me ace everything without really trying. Before I knew it, I was accepted to the New York Academy of Art. That was as close to heaven as I was ever going to get.

This time Grandma insisted I go, so I did, but I was forever shifting home to visit her. Some Fae abilities have their merits!

I love restoring ancient pieces of art. Canvas paintings are my specialty, although I have on two occasions worked on wall murals. Art restoration is my calling. I love the history behind each piece and the satisfaction I feel when my work is completed and a masterpiece looks thanks back at me.

I was lucky enough last year to get a position at the New York City Museum of Fine Arts (I’ve always suspected my dad of having a magic hand in that). At any rate, I got the job and have been working for them almost at times around the clock. Perhaps Dad flicked a finger and got me the job, but it has been my long hours and my skill as an artist that won me a promotion and a permanent position.

Yesterday the superintendent, John Mallory, stopped by my workroom with a visitor. When he called my name, I turned and stepped aside from the aged Flemish painting that had been one of Peter Paul Rubens’ very finest pieces. I had been working on it for at least a week. I smiled a welcome at John, and then I was stopped dead in my tracks! Beside John was an eye-popping hunk of man. He radiated smoking-hot sex. He throbbed with an aura that was filled with vibrating electricity. I felt the room sizzle with his essence. Oh yeah, he had my attention.

He was well over six feet and built athletically. His hair was a well-ordered mass of shiny black, layered silk. His face? Ooh my—his face was chiseled in ruggedly handsome lines. His lips were full with the promise of something I didn’t want to think about. He looked to be about thirty. What was he wearing, you ask?

He was dressed in what I was sure was Armani. A navy sports jacket, a denim shirt, and oh-so-tight-fitting jeans. He wore navy leather boots with just a touch of silver ornamentation at the toe and heels.

To say that his eyes were green would be an understatement. They were brilliant genuine emeralds with sparks of gold, and at the moment they were taking me in from head to toe. His eyes lingered at my breasts, and I felt myself go hot all over. Then he met my gaze, and I could see that the violet color of my eyes intrigued him for a quick moment. I was used to people doing a double take on my eyes. And then, he was all business all at once.

As soon as I finished my visual evaluation of him I had the feeling that I should run away and not look back. I brushed the feeling aside and told myself I was an idiot.

John Mallory must be about fifty, and he works at the museum for the love of it. He is ‘Old World money’ and doesn’t need to work at all. He was smiling broadly as he introduced me and seemed pleased as punch. Willow … this is Squire Shayne Bantry … He turned to the Squire. I have the pleasure of introducing you to our little treasure, Miss Willow Lang.

A squire no less? I was impressed.

His black lashes swept his cheeks as he inclined his head. He took my offered hand and didn’t shake it, but put it to his lips Old Wonderful World style.

He spoke, which was a good thing because I was nearly sure that if I did I would gush. I am honored to meet you, Miss Lang. You come highly recommended.

His Irish brogue went straight to my heart. God help me—I love anything, everything Irish. My mom was Irish. His accent made me want to capture him, make him sit and talk, just keep talking. However, his words were short and sweet and threw me off balance.

Recommended? Recommended for what? I managed to find my voice. I don’t understand, Squire.

His black eyebrow went up, and he was clearly not pleased. Please forgive me. I thought that Mr. Mallory had already presented my proposition to you.

We both turned and looked at John.

John blustered, and his hands moved wildly. I was away for a few days on business. I only got back last night and there was your letter … He was looking at the squire and then turned to look at me. " … and now here he is. He looked back at the squire. Haven’t had the chance to approach Miss Lang, but no harm. Why don’t we go to my office and discuss everything."

The squire’s face was stern. I am sure you are a busy man, Mr. Mallory. If you don’t mind, I would like to take Miss Lang for a cup of coffee and discuss my plan with her.

Absolutely. John waved us off. Of course … He turned to me and said amicably, Willow, we are cooperating fully with the squire, so the Museum has no objection.

My mind bounced around. What? Who? Where? I didn’t have a clue.

Green eyes scanned my face as he took up my arm to lead me away. I stopped him and said, Please … what is this all about?

Shayne Bantry smiled softly at me. I have a place near Lake Killarney in Ireland. It has been in my family for centuries. Some of the paintings date back to the Middle Ages and are in need of restoration. I was told that you are the one for the job. You have an outstanding reputation as a talented restorer. I also understand that you have a great love for what you do. I know the importance of loving one’s work … it makes the difference between mediocre and greatness. Therefore, I came here expressly to judge for myself. One glance at your work tells me that you are the one for the job. He didn’t wait for me to reply but moved forward and stood in front of the painting I had been working on. Ah … Rubens, he said. He didn’t ask, he knew, and that impressed me. I watched as he peered closer still and said softly, Miss Lang … there is no doubt you are a master at your craft.

I was scarcely listening. What stuck with me was what I blurted out. You want me to go to Ireland? I was astonished and let me admit more than a little bit excited. The only time I had been to Ireland was when I was a child. My memories were vague, but the pull Ireland has always had on me was strong. I wondered why I had never returned there. I know Dad shifted to Ireland all the time. Ireland for most Fae was their favorite place on Earth.

I do, he said succinctly.

To work restoring classical paintings in your home?

Quite a few classical paintings.

At your place …?

Indeed, at Bantry Manor. He seemed slightly amused by my reaction.

Bantry Manor—in Ireland … me …? Like … an old manor … with history?

He smiled with genuine feeling for the first time. Like with history to the 1400s, although it has been restored and modernized several times over the last century.

And you couldn’t find anyone in your own country to restore your classical paintings?

I am very particular. A perfectionist when it comes to art, and now that I have seen your work, Miss Lang, I must tell you that you are the only one I want for the job.

But … my job here …?

I have been assured that it will be here waiting for you when you are done at Bantry, but I fear you will not be done for—many … many months. He looked about himself. Shall we go for coffee now, Miss Lang?

Oh no. Sitting down to coffee with this mysterious man was not what I wanted to do just then. I couldn’t stop the next question. Bantry Manor, you say … and I will be working there … alone … with you?

His smile grew, and he inclined his head. Not quite alone. There are servants and … visitors. I, in fact, won’t be there all the time as I have a business that takes my time and attention on a regular basis.

I extended my hand. I wanted him to go. I needed down time to myself. I had to think. It is what, in fact, I told him.

Again, he didn’t shake my hand. He put it to his lips and murmured in that Irish brogue that sent shivers up my spine, I look forward to hearing from you soon, Miss Lang.

I left the museum early and decided to walk home. I noted absently that I hadn’t seen very many Fae lately. In New York City, that was an oddity.

The Fae love the hustle and bustle of city life. They put on their human Glamour and shop and club and frequent our most expensive and popular establishments. Being Fae, I can see through their human Glamour. However, I know how to hide my Faeness from them. I am human and purposely emote human whenever I see a Fae within my circle.

I arrived at my apartment, put a ‘Lean Cuisine’ in the micro, and tossed a salad for dinner. All the while I was thinking about this new development in my life. I had mixed feelings. I was safe in my job, in my present life. Not having an awesome time of it, but safe and happy enough.

This mysterious squire offered me something I felt in my gut was dangerous. Dangerous—why? I was being an idiot. I wondered idly how much of a donation the handsome Squire Bantry had made to the museum to get them to agree to such a deal.

You have to understand that boys with green (as a rule) do not impress me. What I wanted was a knight in shining armor, which meant he had to be big and strong, but also he had to have character, he had to be tolerant, he had to love puppies, and he couldn’t care that I wasn’t all human. Not a big chance of that; however, money wasn’t on that list.

Of course knights like that just don’t come along. Do they? That voice in my heart sang, Yes, they do, and that bitch in my brain wagged an ugly, bony finger and said, You know better!

You know of course that by the time I went to bed I had made up my mind; knights might not exist, but this opportunity was real, and was I going to pass it up? Oh no.

My heart warned me off—it remembered how it had fluttered when Shayne Bantry had kissed my hand—but my head said this would be the experience of a lifetime. And besides, he had said he wouldn’t even be around much. It was all perfectly safe and respectable. Wasn’t it?

The next morning, I did, I called him at the Plaza, and he received my acceptance as though he had never expected any other response. He told me he would be returning to Ireland immediately, but that he would have his jet