Anduron: God of Mabon: Sons of Herne

By J. Rose Allister

Your next book boyfriend should be a god!

He frees those who are unjustly imprisoned…but can he release his captive heart?

The Fates have been bringing all the sabbat gods to their knees over carnal desires, including Anduron's own twin brother. Anduron will not be so easily swayed, however. The god of Mabon needs only one thing from the Fates: the power to free one who is unjustly imprisoned, an act bestowed upon him once per year in honor of his sabbat.

Then he encounters an old woman in need of rescuing, an act that, outside of the ritual of Mabon, is technically forbidden.

Jenna is worried sick when her overdue grandmother shows up with a handsome stranger on her arm and tales of how sexy Anduron saved her from a mugging. Jenna is grateful, quite possibly to the point of swooning, until he disappears right in front of her eyes. He returns to say he is the god of the pagan thanksgiving--and that he wants her for a ritual where she will sleep with him out of gratitude for her grandmother's rescue. The sheer nerve leaves her burning, but those eyes and that hard body leaves her curious. She proposes an alternative: woo her like a mortal man, and if he succeeds, she will grant her consent for the Mabon ritual.

Anduron has little experience with courting a woman, let alone one as infuriating as Jenna. She rejects all his overtures until she finally confesses what she wants most: a freedom raid on an animal testing facility that will cost him more than he bargained for. He will have to risk capture to keep her out of danger. With no guarantee she will agree to his terms, just how many immortal laws will he break in order to win her consent to be his?

About the Sons of Herne series:

The god Herne has appointed eight of his most virile, headstrong sons as keepers of the pagan holidays. To honor their sabbat, each must join with a mortal female in a ritual to maintain the balance between worlds.

It is the year of The Thousand Seasons, and the Fates have secretly conspired to mark the end of an era by granting the gods one thing they lack--a true union of male and female that will last well beyond the fleeting passion of a sabbat joining.

Herne’s sons will wrestle with the conflict between sacred duty and their own yearnings, a struggle that will not only challenge their beliefs, but may threaten the success of rituals that must be observed lest the realms of mortal and immortal collide in chaos.

This is Book 7 of the Sons of Herne series.  Although the tales can be read as standalone romance, there is an overall plot arc that is best served by reading them in order. This series features pagan sex rituals, so if you prefer your romance sweet and behind closed doors, this one's not for you!

The series books in order:

1. Dominus: God of Yule (free)
2. Eradimus: God of Imbolc (subscriber exclusive)
3. Tallisun: God of Ostara
4. Jorandil: God of Beltane
5. Devinar: God of Litha
6. Feillor: God of Lammas
7. Anduron: God of Mabon
8. Archipellus: God of Samhain

• Language: English
• Publisher: J. Rose Allister
• Release date: Sep 8, 2016
• ISBN: 9781536598223

Book preview

List of the Pagan Sabbats

WHILE THE RITUALS AND situations created for this series are purely fiction, they are based on actual holidays observed by a number of pagan paths. The eight pagan sabbats take place on or between an equinox or solstice. Dates vary based on the sun and hemisphere. Some pagans consider Yule the beginning of their year, while others begin with Samhain. For the purpose of this series, I used the Northern Hemisphere and Yule as the starting point.

Yule

(Dec 20-23) Winter Solstice, longest night of the year. A celebration of the rebirth of the sun, as the days will now get longer. Yule logs, wassail, and mistletoe are traditional, as is the holly king, who some believe is part of the Santa Claus legend.

Imbolc

(Feb 1-2) Also called Candlemas or St. Brighid’s Day. A time when ewes bring forth lambs, meaning spring is coming. Sacred to the goddess Brighid. Candles, St. Brighid crosses, and priapic wands are common associations.

Ostara

(Mar 20-23) During the Spring Equinox. Sacred to Eostre, lunar goddess. Spring has arrived, and new life is celebrated. Eggs, rabbits and flowers are traditional.

Beltane

(Apr 30-May 1) A sabbat honoring fertility. Summer arrives, when the god and goddess consummate their union and conceive life. Dancing around the maypole, bonfires, handfastings, and sexual revelry are common traditions.

Litha

(Jun 20-22) Summer Solstice or Midsummer. Longest day of the year. Said to be a time of high magic, especially among fairy lore. (Remember A Midsummer Night’s Dream?) The sun is at its strongest, but will weaken as it gives way to the darker half of the year.

Lammas

(Jul 31-Aug 1) Also called Lughnasadh, after the god Lugh (pronounced: Loo). The first of three harvest sabbats, it is a time to begin reaping what has been sown. Baking bread, corn dolls, and wheat are common traditions and symbols.

Mabon

(Sep 21-23) Fall Equinox. The pagan thanksgiving and second harvest sabbat. Crops are almost fully gathered now, many of which have been stored and turned into ciders, jams, and other goods. Named for the god Mabon, known for freeing captives.

Samhain

(Oct 31) Halloween/All Hallows. Summer is gone and dark days approach. The veil between worlds is thin, meaning spirits of departed souls may cross over/communicate. Apples, black cats, Jack-o-Lanterns, and brooms are common.

ANDURON: GOD OF MABON

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THE TREE-LINED STREET greeted the god of Mabon with the colors of autumn—leaves of gold, ruby red, and deep, sunset orange. They rustled at Anduron as he passed, and fluttering bits of the season broke free of their branches and dropped to the ground. The god of the thanksgiving harvest strode with purpose, unconcerned that his glittering eyes or unusual ears might attract the notice of humans. The veil pendant was secure around his neck, the crystalline gem in the center glowing brighter than the afternoon sun. The pendant rendered him invisible to most in this realm until he wished otherwise. The sound of his feet crunching through the leaves might have been of concern, except no one was near enough to hear.

He looked around at the houses along the street. Which one belonged to the witness he was there to present his formal request to? The time of Mabon was soon at hand, and the woman chosen for him awaited his arrival. She would tell him of a human who had been unjustly imprisoned, and by the power infused in the artifact hidden in his cloak pocket, he would release them. The gesture of freedom would be celebrated later between the god and his witness, a carnal joining of bodies reveling in the sabbat named after a deity who freed many who were held captive.

His hand went to his pocket, feeling for the reassuring weight of the artifact. The key of Mabon was the instrument by which the Fates granted Anduron the power to release a mortal once per year. This would fulfill his duty while still obeying the law regarding immortals altering the destiny of humans. Many gods felt the Mabon ritual should be abolished, that even this one small gesture of freedom was too much meddling on the part of the Fates in the lives of mortals. Meddling in the lives of gods, on the other hand, was something the three Fates got away with quite often.

Morta, Decuna, and Nona had expended a great deal of effort in the year of the Thousand Seasons to screw with the gods who oversaw the sabbats—his brothers. They were determined to see the sons of Herne turn their ritual lovers into long-term mates. Thus far, they had succeeded with every sabbat keeper who had observed their annual pagan holiday. Not even his own twin, Feillor, had avoided it.

No fewer than five times during the blessing of the key had Anduron opened his mouth to challenge the Fates about their recent actions. He wanted to warn them not to attempt any such trickery with him. Still, others had tried to confront them—including his own father—and all had failed. The Fates had powers none clearly understood, but it was known that they could not fully overcome one’s own free will. So, it was assumed that if a sabbat god had fallen in love, it was because he wanted to.

Anduron did not want to.

Unlike his brother, he held no particular ill will against humans. Far from it. But Anduron had his own mission in life, and settling down with a woman could stand in the way of what mattered to him most. Freedom. His father being a stubborn old stag and his mother one of the enchanting, yet sometimes conniving fay, it was hardly surprising that he should suffer from a strong sense of opinion—and loyalty to a sacred vow once made. His duty to freeing those who were unjustly imprisoned was what he most cared about, even if the laws only allowed him one such gesture each year. Regardless of whether the Fates thought they had other plans, they had given him the power to go forth as the keeper of Mabon, and go forth he would.

An earth vehicle raced by, stirring the leaves around his feet. The passengers inside didn’t notice him, meaning the pendant was still hiding his presence. He had wondered about the pendant, for it had been acting strangely of late. Feillor had made use of it during his recent sabbat with disturbing results. The Fates had apparently tampered with the gem so that rather than keeping him unseen, Feillor’s appearance had been altered to make him appear more human. His proud rack of antlers had vanished. Anduron reached up at the thought to trace the outline of his ears, reassuring himself that their elongated, pointed tips were still intact. Their father’s antlers aside, Feillor had a good deal of their mother’s human genetics already, and the Fates making the transformation complete for a time had no doubt played into his ultimate madness. After all their conversations about the Fates’ meddling in their brothers’ love lives, after swearing to one another that they would guard themselves against such trickery. Feillor, who couldn’t stand humans, had gone and mated himself to one. Permanently, or so he claimed.

For a god, permanently was a very long time, and Anduron had scoffed at the idea. Then his besotted, starry-eyed twin had cornered him at the Counsel of Sabbats to share news that his lover had conceived during their joining on Lammas. A ripple of unrest had gone through Anduron at that. Conception was a serious matter for the sabbat gods, all of whom engaged in sex with humans as a matter of course while fulfilling their duties. Powerful magics were employed to stop the sabbat keepers from procreating during their ritual carnal relations. But should the bond between a joining pair be strong enough, there was a possibility that the couple’s sexual energy could overwhelm the enchantment. Such was considered highly improbable, since the sabbat gods by and large joined with women they knew little about. But Feillor’s feelings for Salina, his human enchantress, had obviously run deep enough to thwart the enchantment.

Anduron’s closest kin, both genetically and practically speaking, had fallen for the Fates’ plan.

As Anduron swept along the street, his cloak billowing behind him, he did not find the familiar landmarks he sought. He might be safely hidden from sight, but it seemed he had a different problem with the veil pendant. Ordinarily, the gem allowed him to phase between worlds to a destination at or near his choosing. The longer he walked, however, the more suspicious he became that he wasn’t in the correct location. Either he had not applied sufficient focus, or else the pendant had mysteriously malfunctioned.

He stopped on the street, picked up the pendant in his fist, and closed his eyes while focusing on his destination. Moments later, he opened his eyes with a sigh. He hadn’t phased, hadn’t moved at all. Something was definitely wrong.

A scowl crested his features. He was certain the gem itself was not to blame. It was fashioned by elven gods, who used the most sacred of magics to imbue the crystal with energies from the veil between worlds. As such, the gem’s capabilities would be flawless. Only the one using the stone—or a power great enough to influence destination mid-phase—could have altered its course. Perhaps holding his tongue with the Fates had not been prudent after all.

But then, perhaps he was too quick to blame them. Understandable, considering their relentless meddling among his brothers. It was possible, however, that there was another explanation. Maybe the witness was rapidly changing locations. Might she be traveling by portal? Unlikely. Perhaps he would find her if he kept going a bit farther. If not, he would return to the counsel who had selected the human and request instructions. It would be unusual, but then, so was his sabbat. His celebration of thanks was considered unique among the rituals overseen by his brothers. Unique and controversial, second only to the highly-debated ritual of Samhain. Both stirred no small amount of whispers and outright indignation. Though next to one another on the wheel of the year, he could not see why the two were so often compared. The Samhain ritual involved the taking of a life. His Mabon ritual gave one back.

The street ended, and