Near
The Wild
by Maureen
Willett
Genre: paranormal romance or
historical fantasy
Publisher: independent
Date of Publication: June 27, 2015
ISBN: 9781524209926 * ASIN: B010JLKZZY
Number of pages: 229 * Word Count: 82,500
Book Description:
Cowboys and leprechauns both occupy
Maeve MacKeighry's world in 1870, and she must decide which will win her heart.
Leprechauns are feared, even in Ireland, but that doesn't prevent Maeve from
striking up a friendship with one who lives near her village. But once Maeve
becomes a young woman, the local villagers start to gossip, especially since
the MacKeighrys are known to practice magic in their home. It's just for
entertainment, but the town folk don't see it that way. Rather than be
outcasts, the MacKeighrys set off to America to homestead in Kansas, vowing to
leave their magical ways and friends behind. Little do they know that Maeve's
friend follows and protects them on their journey.
The MacKeighrys encounter many
adventures along the way to Kansas, only to find a simple sod house on their
new farm at the end of the journey. The untamed land offers a fresh start for
the family, as well as two very interesting men who both compete for Maeve’s
attention. Pretty young women in a wild western town are a rarity. But can she
forget her magical friend, and turn her attention to two of the most
interesting men she has ever met? Perhaps cowboys and outlaws have a certain
charm that a leprechaun doesn't, after all.
Most of the novel takes place in
Kansas in 1870 and is based on the author’s family history. The idea of the
MacKeighry’s sod house came from the home of Willett’s great grandfather. She
was lucky enough to visit it as a teenager before the house was destroyed. One
of the characters, Nikki Fuerst, is based on an ancestor, a prince from Austria
who was disinherited for marrying a commoner and sent off to America. Stories
Willett has been told her entire life about her family’s history and
traditions, such as levitating tables, are included in Near The Wild.
Excerpt:
Leprechauns were
feared, even in Ireland. Of course, Ma
and Da denied that we were related to the magical people in the forest, the
sidhe, but there was no denying that the other good families in our village of
Clonmel didn’t know how to do the things we did.
Ma would shake her
head and tease us, calling us leprechauns whenever we asked if we could play
our favorite game. But then she would
close the shutters so the fun could begin.
Surely none of our neighbors should see us huddled around a table that
was two feet off the ground. It was just
a fortune-telling game to us. We’d make
the table rise into the air merely by thinking it should do so, and then we’d
ask it simple questions. The hovering
wooden table would tap one of its legs on the floor to answer, once for “yes”
and twice for “no.” As our confidence
grew, our questions became more outlandish, making my younger brothers giggle
until tears poured down their faces.
I’m not sure where
that game came from, but I do remember Ma playing it with her sisters, too,
whenever we all got together for holidays, and such. My brothers and I would watch in fascination
because my mother and aunts were so much better at it than we were. The table would rise much higher and then
pound out the answer to the “yes” or “no” question posed to it. None of us children understood the
implications of what we were witnessing.
But the elders of the village and church did.
Then, there was
the business about Finn and me. I didn’t
think anyone outside our family could see him, so as we got older I got lazy
about keeping our friendship secret. We
began to venture out of the thick forest, where we had played since we were
babes, and sit together in the meadow on the outskirts of Clonmel. We’d lie back and let the tall, green grass
engulf us. Finn would make fun of some
of the townsfolk to make me smile.
I soon learned my
mistake. One day, the baker’s wife
marched into the middle of the town square to point her finger in Ma’s face,
making a holy show of herself and poor Ma.
The sour-faced woman said I was inviting trouble, that I’d be stolen
away to the sidhe’s world, or worse. The
baker always gave Ma a free meat pie when she went into the shop, while his wife
watched with a scowl. I think she had it
in for us.
Ma told the woman
to “hump off,” much to my delight and horror, and then she demanded an apology
from the fat, old crone. I received less
support when Ma got me home, though. She
yanked so hard on my ear, it felt like it’d come off, and the heat of her anger
made her face go scarlet.
“Maeve
MacKeighry,” she shouted through clenched teeth, still pulling my earlobe,
which I feared had now been deformed forever.
“I’ve had enough of your sprite!
You will not see him again, or so help me Lord Jesus!” When Ma took the Lord’s name in vain, it was
serious business.
But we both knew
Finn could not be so easily discarded.
He was a wild spirit, full of good intentions but no regard for rules,
or restrictions, as his kind often were.
Even if I tried to avoid him, he wouldn’t let go of me.
Ma feared I’d
never have a respectable suitor, even though boys in Clonmel gave me admiring
glances, especially when I wore my long, thick curls loose. Ma used to say I had classic features offset
by fiery hair. Although I did inherit
the high cheekbones of the MacKeighry clan, I don’t quite know what she meant
by “fiery” since my hair was more brown than red. In either case, boys did look my way
whenever I passed by, but none approached me.
Maybe because my stride wasn’t as dainty as most girls looking for
husbands, or maybe because of the challenge they saw in my green eyes. Most likely, though, it was because they’d
heard the whispered tales about Finn and me.
Then the whispers
became more frequent. Villagers stopped
knocking on our door. Rumors of
witchcraft started to spread. Never mind
that the baker’s wife was the culprit, it still made townsfolk turn away when
we walked down the street to church.
When Father Donoghue shunned our family after Sunday mass more than
once, Da left to start a homestead in Kansas.
Ma said they were
giving away land in America. It might as
well be on the moon for all I cared. And
the land must not be worth much if they were giving it away for free, I
figured. Nevertheless, some months
later, we followed.
“The Lord is
giving us a chance at a better life in a new country,” Ma told us all one rainy
afternoon. The weather made us
housebound, so we begged to play with the table. “None of our games will be allowed in our new
home. We’ll have a fresh beginning, and
one without the ways of leprechauns,” she had said with a pointed look in my
direction.
###
I can still see
myself as I was in 1870 at the dawn of becoming a woman, standing on the deck
of the Belle Asisse in high hopes for our adventure, feeling the ocean wind
whip through my hair more forcefully than it did the patched sails overhead.
As I looked out at
the green waters of the Atlantic, I hoped we would sight land soon. I wanted to feel solid ground beneath my feet
and get off that moldy, old ship. Finn
said I looked tired, and he was right, too.
How could I sleep sharing a bunk with four of my brothers? Even though they were all younger than me,
they were tall and took up too much room.
I’d sleep on the floor, but the rats or roaches might get me. The bay leaves and garlic Ma put around our
two bunks didn’t keep the vermin away, and things grew larger in the dank air.
The sudden laugh
in my left ear startled me out of my thoughts.
It seemed closer than it should be, because no one stood next to me at
all. I looked around, wondering if it
had been the howling of the wind, but then the sound came again. Something was playing tricks on me, but it
wasn’t the wind.
“Finn!” I tried not to call his name. I didn’t want anyone to know he was
onboard. It was supposed to be our
secret, but he took many chances by going on deck in daylight.
I whirled around
when the laugh came again, only this time it was behind me. A flash of raven black hair was all I spotted
before he disappeared, but it was enough to make me go down the stairs to the
sleeping quarters below. The smell of
musty wood and unwashed bodies assaulted me.
I wouldn’t be able to catch him, so I hoped I could trick him
instead. I ran down the stairs and
through the maze of wooden bunks. Some
were occupied but most were empty. The
deck was crowded in the afternoons with passengers getting a few hours of fresh
air, so I jumped over empty bed after bed and ran to the darkest corner. I knew it well, and so did Finn. We’d met there almost every night after Ma
and the boys fell asleep.
I gasped for air
as I collided with a barrel and almost fell to my knees, but he put his hand
out to keep me from doing myself real injury.
“You need to be
more careful, darlin’ girl. Don’t run so
hard. You’ll burst your laces,” Finn
said with his bewitching smile that made his crystal-clear aqua eyes sparkle. “Young ladies shouldn’t play so rough.”
I pulled away and
socked him in the shoulder with my fist, making him wince for just a
second. Then he smiled again.
“Although, you are
good at playing rough,” Finn said as he rubbed his shoulder.
“What girl with
six brothers isn’t?” I flashed a smile
at him, trying to be beguiling like the girl in the novel I’d just finished,
but knowing it wasn’t working. Offending
his shoulder hadn’t helped me much either.
He took a strand
of my hair and twirled it around his finger, smoothing out the curl as he
went. He had impossibly long, tapered
fingers. The kind any girl would
envy. Then, more fingers were in my hair
in a soft yet demanding way. I watched,
fascinated by the way they worked their way into my curls, entwining my heart
with their rhythm. I imagined those same
long fingers running down my neck, unbuttoning my bodice, making a pattern on
my skin. A small, choking sound escaped
from my throat, much to my shame. Finn
dropped my hair and backed away.
Things were
changing between us, and I wasn’t prepared for it, especially the way he made
me feel. I had always been the one in
control, even when we were small children, but now Finn was able to set my
emotions spinning with just a glance of his eyes, or toss of his glorious black
hair. I tried to get my breath under
control, but his perfect face with its luminous skin and ruby lips got in the
way.
So, I concentrated
on the dark green jewel he wore on a leather strip around his neck
instead. Finn was never without it. He’d told me before that the emerald
contained what was left of his ancient soul. The jewel looked tarnished and
murky, as if it had seen better days. I
had suggested we polish it once, but Finn had said that was impossible and
refused to talk about it further. I
stopped asking about it when we were children.
He stood there
watching me with his light eyes. My
heart wasn’t calming down at all, so I felt the need to shift my weight from
one foot to another. Then, I remembered
last night and was quite pleased to feel something other than desire.
“I’m so angry with
you! I don’t think we should be friends
anymore!” I tried to sound steadfast in
my conviction, but as he stepped closer, his sweet spicy scent made my senses
spin again. I leaned against the side of
the ship, wanting to feel the hardness of the wood and smell the mold that was
everywhere, instead of Finnegan.
“You don’t mean
that,” Finn said in a husky voice as he put a hand on each side of my head and
bent in toward me. “My Maeve, you’re the
center of my world. You have been since the
day I first saw you in the forest. Why
would you say such a thing?”
My chest heaved
and fell with each breath, making my skin chafe against the course cloth of my
plain gown. I longed to be free of it,
but just the thought of what would happen if I suddenly stripped off my restrictive
clothes made me feel faint. I swallowed
hard.
“I couldn’t find
you. I looked all over the ship, and
waited for hours last night, but you weren’t here. Where have you been?” I asked, not wanting to
sound like a petulant child, or jealous, for that matter, but I wasn’t
successful. I held my breath and
waited. I had never clung to Finn
before. It had always been the other way
around.
A flash of concern
crossed his face. “I was here, while you
were eating supper. But then Michael
walked by, so I left. Your brothers are
sentries. It’s as if they know I’m on
the ship.” Finn stooped, put his lips to
my forehead, and then stepped back.
The air became a
bit less intoxicating as he moved away, and I could almost breathe again. “Were you with someone else last night?” I didn’t want to ask, but it needed to be in
the open. I had seen Finn looking at
some of the other young ladies on board, and I wasn’t sure if it was curiosity
or longing in his eyes.
All expression
left his face. “Don’t ever ask me that
again. I’ve been devoted to you your
entire life, and that has never faltered.”
His voice was low, so only I could hear it, but it was filled with
emotion. “It never will.”
I nodded,
recognizing the truth in his statement, and felt the blush fill my face,
thankful the darkness covered it. I
wanted to put my hand on his arm and kiss his cheek the way I used to, but I
hadn’t felt comfortable doing that in quite some time. It would lead to things neither of us was
strong enough to control.
“Maeve! Maeve!” Michael’s voice was close. It was too dark to tell where my eldest
brother was. There’d be the devil to pay
if he saw us together.
“I’ll be here
tonight, waiting for you,” Finn said in earnest, and then he was gone. A flash of light remained in the air around
me. It had an odd golden glow.
About
the Author:
Maureen Willett is a writer of
fiction that pushes the boundaries of established genres. Her stories mostly come from her own family
legends that have been passed down through generations, but then she tops them
off with a twist of faery dust and angel wings.
But at the core of each story are great characters in very human conflicts that anyone will find compelling. Each novel is crafted as an experience that will take readers beyond their day-to-day lives, incorporating themes of time travel, reincarnation, and magic.
But at the core of each story are great characters in very human conflicts that anyone will find compelling. Each novel is crafted as an experience that will take readers beyond their day-to-day lives, incorporating themes of time travel, reincarnation, and magic.
She lives in Hawaii and finds its
ethereal beauty a source of inspiration for her writing. She is a former journalist, public relations
professional, and media marketing specialist.
Writing fiction has been her passion since grade school.
website: www.mwillettnovels.com
Facebook: www.facebook.com/maureenwillettbooks
Amazon: www.amazon.com/author/mwillett
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Great excerpt! Thanks for sharing :)
ReplyDeleteA great read through thank you.
ReplyDelete