Eva's Homecoming: Heartland Fae, #1

By Celia Breslin

After several years away for school and work, Eva O'Reilly is finally home. The West coast was fine, but her heart belongs to the Heartland and the town where she grew up. Sadly, with her mother's sudden passing and no other living relatives, Eva is alone and hurting.

 

Angus of the Tuatha Dé Danaan is elated his one true love has finally returned, and he's determined to win her heart all over again. There are just two problems: she can't see him or remember the Fae folk even exist.

 

As Eva mourns, Angus fights to dispel the veil keeping them apart. With the aid of a gang of flower fairies and the kindly elderly Wiccan next door, these cursed lovers may well receive a second chance at their happily forever after…

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Celia Breslin
• Release date: Jun 13, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201769512

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

Eva O’Reilly hovered on the sidewalk in front of her childhood home, her gaze bouncing up and down the charming tree-lined street, taking in the rows of well-kept, two-story homes. Memories of her little-girl-self dashing over the tidy green lawns on bare feet and riding her trike along the smooth sidewalks competed with a swarm of bees buzzing in her stomach. She’d pictured her return to the tiny town of her birth thousands of times over the past several years, and each fantasy included cheers and hugs. Happy tears and laughter. Backyard barbecues and live music. Most of all, the words she longed to hear:

Welcome home. Good to have you back. We missed you.

Friends and neighbors would tease her about gallivanting off to the West coast, where they thought everyone drove too fast and charged ridiculous amounts of money for a cup of coffee. Where the weather was perfect much of the time, but who cared about California sunshine when everything cost so darned much?

Yes, her triumphant return was the fantasy. In reality, no one noticed her arrival, possibly because, she hadn’t told anyone when she was coming. Not many people to alert. Most of the friends she’d made in high school had left Springdale for college then settled elsewhere, as Eva herself had attempted. As for the neighbors, the Murphys next door were aware Eva would arrive at some point today, and the rest would figure it out soon enough. When the oppressive heat of the afternoon waned and night fell, they’d see the lights on in Mary O’Reilly’s quaint home for the first time since her passing six months ago.

Mama. Fresh pain pierced Eva’s chest, threatening to crush her resolve, but no, she wouldn’t let the grief swamp her. Not now, not at this defining moment.

I’m home, Mama. For good, she whispered, staring up at the puffy clouds seeming to sit on the rooftop of her mother’s home. My home, alone. She kicked up her chin and rubbed her sternum, skin slick from the summer heat and humidity, this climate so different from the dry one she’d left behind for good in Silicon Valley.

As if hearing her thoughts, a steamy, hot breeze breathed its hello across her skin, billowing her sundress around her legs as a mosquito whined in her ear and dive-bombed her face. Eva waved the insect away then squashed it when it came at her for round two and made the fatal mistake of landing on her bare arm.

Sure didn’t miss being a mosquito magnet, she murmured.

You must be O, her taxi driver observed, settling two of her roller suitcases by her side. He lifted his sports cap off bright white hair and squinted up at the sky. Sure is a hot one today.

O? she echoed.

Blood type. It’s a thing. Mosquitoes prefer type O, then B. You’re home free if you’re A, like me. The guy winked then resettled his cap on his head and hustled back to the trunk of his cab for her other two cases.

Huh. Her attention returned to the house. As much as instinct told her she’d made the right decision to return, grief had her legs twitching to dash away as fast as her strappy, high-heeled sandals would allow. Stubbornness and determination had her stepping forward, up the three steps and onto the walkway cutting through the front yard with its surprisingly neatly trimmed grass. Her heels clicked loudly on the pavement, while of its own volition, her right hand raised to make the sign of the cross. She hadn’t crossed herself in years, not since her high school graduation at the Church of the Sacred Heart. Muscle memory had her index finger touching her forehead, chest, left shoulder, right shoulder, adding her mother’s final flourish and fondest wish—a touch to the lips and a flick of the fingers, sending love into the heavens.

For you, Mama.

With her heart pounding a chaotic beat in her chest, she stalled out at the foot of the porch stairs. I’m going to expand this porch. Wrap it around both sides to the back. The rest of the remodeling plans danced through her mind, easing the sharp edges of her sadness.

Update the two bathrooms. Install central air. She ascended the three cement stairs to the porch. Refinish the hardwood floors. Go solar.

Her heels clicked on the sturdy wood of the porch. Add a sunroom off the kitchen, leading to a new deck and hot tub.

She closed her hand around the screen door handle. Finish the basement and install a home theater.

Some of the renovation ideas originated from her mother, changes they discussed to make it a comfy forever home. Their forever home. I’ll do it all for me, Mama. Because she knew it would make Mary O’Reilly so happy to know her daughter finally listened to her heart and learned to pivot and let go when something wasn’t working.

Life in California had not been working.

The door handle descended under the weight of her hand, and she let it swing wide.

Miss? The cabbie hovered behind her, holding her luxury weekender bag. While she’d been lost in thought and gawking at the house, the nice older guy had delivered all four of her hefty suitcases to the porch.

She dug a fifty out of her purse. Keep the change.

Double the fare, but he’d more than earned it by transporting all her heavy cases from car to porch in this heat. She’d also appreciated his friendly chatter on the twenty-minute ride from the small, local airport. His open and genuine manner reminded her why she’d come home for good.

The cabbie handed over her weekend bag, eyed the generous amount of money in his palm, then considered her. She could imagine what he might be thinking… Why would a young woman with expensive luggage and diamonds in her ears—one with money to burn on hefty tips—come to a modest, two-story home in this middle-class neighborhood?

Midwestern politeness overruled his clear curiosity. Thank you, miss.

"Thank you, sir."

The cabbie bowed his head. Good day to you, then.

Good day.

Eva watched the cab pull away from the curb and turn off the cul-de-sac. Sweat beaded her upper lip as the humid heat sank its teeth into her skin.

I can do this, she whispered to no one, setting the overnight bag at