What if everything you thought you knew turned up side down?

Meet Shayla Brinawell. She’s a magical soul—but in serious denial.

Don’t misunderstand.

She isn’t prejudiced. She has been taught not to use her magic. That’s what you do when you’re in hiding. Self preservation.

Magic becomes the biggest secret of Shayla’s life.

This magical power lingers under her skin—moving with insistent potency. It pulses with anticipation and power while waiting for the day of her true awakening.

That day is finally here. Enter chaos, danger, death and redeeming love.

Everyone does it.

Dreams of a courageous and sexy hero. Well…

Open your eyes.

Within the mists of Avalon there is a hidden legacy…

Meekal Magdal-eder Chilkwell is hidden in plain sight. The residents of Glastonbury, England know exactly who he is. His family has resided in close proximity of the mystical Tor for nearly one thousand years. People pass him on the street with a wave and a smile.

Everyone except the new villain in town. That’s because even in a place with the light of good magic there are many shadows of darkness. Syther is here to defy the Chilkwell legacy and conquer them.

Meekal’s greatest challenge must be faced in a brand new way. The balance of powerful magic rests upon his shoulders.

Help has just arrived. But first he must convince Shayla that the magic residing within her is there for the good of all. Can he succeed?

Here’s a Magical Moment™ just for you. Read a sexy (never before seen) excerpt:


[4] The Gaderian; Spectrum of Shadows

The cool stone wall of the Tor Sunset Inn cooled Shayla when she leaned against it. She looked into Meekal’s eyes, feeling his soul reaching out to her. “Kal,” she whispered breathlessly. “Do you really have to leave?”

He moaned and leaned in, pressing her against the wall of the Tor Sunset Inn.
She reciprocated with her own sounds of pleasure, and tilted her head into his caress. She bit her lower lip, her breathing rushed in passion’s determination. “Stay.”

He nibbled her lower lip for her, and then pulled away. “Don’t you want to have some time alone to think about what’s happened? I mean, White Lady, stray cats and Thyrzas. That’s a lot for one day and everything was strange for you.”

His breath on her face teased with an utmost yearning. With fierceness, she pulled him to her mouth, kissing him hungrily. Tremors of anticipation raced through her. She wanted to change his mind. Her leg joined in, moving up the outside of his, on its way to express desire. His racing heart beneath her fingers signaled the possibility of acquiescence. “I can think about it later, Kal. Stay.” She blew warm breath against the sensitive spot over his racing pulse.

He hissed like a cat and delved into her mouth, exploring and stroking.

She absorbed the pleasing sounds, feeling their combined breaths, and fondled him, thrusting her hips forward at the same time.

“Room number?”


On a spiral of air, they arrived in her room. Their hands flashed in eagerness, clothing started flying, landing all around the room. Laughter, and then she pulled her blouse over her head.

Meekal drew back, eyes wide, and gasped.

Shayla leaned forward, letting his fingers explore her tattoo. On her left bicep, a snake wrapped a Celtic Triskel dagger. The esoteric symbolism represented an image of absolute protection. The snake’s body curled around to her back and over her shoulder. The head looked straight at Meekal with brilliant emerald eyes.

His fingers feathered over her, sending delightful little sparks in their wake. “When did you get this?”

She moved into his caress, absorbing him through her skin. “Twenty-first birthday. Mom had fits. Said I was trying to be…”

“Be what?”

“Well…” She sucked her lip in, eyeing him closely, feeling a bit tentative. “You know.” She sighed.

“It’s because she never approved of me using magic. She said it was because of cultural influences; the kind that came across the Pond and engulfed everyone’s life regardless of age. Just because an author becomes famous with an interpretation of magic that sweeps the nation with surprising influence doesn’t necessarily mean that’s where a tattoo comes from.”

She looked at her arm and ran a finger over the dagger’s blade, mesmerized even now by its presence. “Mom just didn’t get it,” she murmured softly. “It goes deeper than that or some cultural phenomenon. It’s a deeper part of me.” She raised her eyes to his, seeking understanding.

A grin spread across his face. In one swift movement, he pulled his tee shirt off, exposing his tattoo. An asp slithered through the concentric circles of the Vesica Pisces Pool resting to the left over his heart—protecting both. “The House of Asp. That was our clan.” Meekal’s voice was soft as he traced fingers over her shoulder, and then down to her breast.


“Aye.” He stopped talking to kiss her deeply.

His fingers on her flesh fed a need like never before. Somewhere in her mind, she vaguely wondered about such intensity, but then succumbed to its power. She moaned, arching up and clutched his head to her breast. A shiver went through her when his wet tongue circled her nipple, pulling her skin into tight nubs.

Meekal clutched her tightly, gentleness becoming heated passion. He nipped playfully while his fingers explored.

She opened for him, moaning. The agony of blissful craving overcame her. “Kal!” She thrust her hips, encouraging him to take her.

He nipped her ear, and then breathed across it. “Not yet. We rushed before.”

A shiver at the resonance of his voice journeyed to her toes. She circled his erection with eager fingers.

He growled and delved into her mouth, stroking as though his life depended on her very presence. Pulling back when air became necessary, he ground his cock into her pelvic bone. “I want to feel you, slippery and wet around me. Stroke you till you scream.” A grin returned and then he flicked his tongue.

Laughter bubbled upward when she saw the gift magically conjured there. The condom, wrapped in gold, rested on the tip. He reached up, gripping the foil between his teeth and pulled. His fingers, so fast in preparation, jolted her anticipation to new levels.

Then mischievousness gave way to impulsive action. In one quick movement, her legs wrapped him with heated insistence. She gave a victorious cry when he slid into her.

Aithne Jarretta

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