Excerpt:

Everyone stood as the druidess entered and held her arms out to them. “The moon has risen. It is time to begin the ritual.”

Her two guards, as well as Calach, Brude, Ciniatha, and the other nobles gathered in a circle around the druidess. A glow of warmth filled her, as if family gathered around her, taking comfort in rituals and traditions. She loved
conducting celebrations more than all the other duties of a druidess.

Tanwen spread her arms wide. “Lleu Strong Hand, god of sun and war. We the druidess, chief, and high nobles of the Caledonii give thanks for the bountiful harvest. For the light you shone on the crops, we honor you. Our bellies will be full, even in the dark of winter.” A warm, soft, purring-cat vibration began
in her chest and spread to every pore in her body.

As Tanwen beckoned Ciniatha to step forward with the first baked bread, she chanted, “Shining One, Lleu of the sure hand, we come together to share our first baked loaf. For as you honored us with a fruitful harvest, we honor you with our labor in reaping, threshing, and baking.” With her arms raised high, Tanwen invoked, “Great Goddess of Lughnasa, Blodeuwedd, you give us seeds for sowing. Your womb of earth birthed our wheat, which gives us life. From your bounty, we glean the first grains, to bake the first bread, and to brew the first ale.”

Ciniatha handed Tanwen the loaf. She broke off a piece and handed it to Calach, who tore off another and gave it to Brude, the third to Ciniatha, and in turn to each member of the noble ranks.

She gave Huctia and Gethin one piece each. Her heart clinched. She wanted to reach out and hug them. They were like her family now. As she performed the ceremony, she thought of the druids who had taught it to her, Rhys and Sulwen. She
missed them so much, and the entire Silure tribe, who gave her succor and sanctuary. She gulped, smiled at her guards, and then continued the ritual.

She tore her remaining `hunk of bread into two pieces and shook them in the air. “Goddess of seed and flower, as you give to us, we give to you. Accept our offering. Lleu, Sun King, Lord of Summer, we partake of this sacred bread, which ripened under your sultry heat. So the tribe will be bountiful, live long, and sire many children. God and Goddess, as you, the earth and sun, conceived our grain, we bless you. We call on you to bless our tribe, as we share this bread.”

Tanwen tossed a piece of bread into the central hearth. As it burned to a crisp, the smoke curled and rose to the gods. She let her sadness over leaving Sulwen and Rhys, and the deaths of her family, melt away. This was her new tribe, and she loved them.

She led the chief’s household and her two guards in a circle around the central hearth as she chanted, “Earth gave us life. Death returns us to her womb. Unending, the circle runs forevermore. Sun, earth, and grain: all which falls shall rise again.”

And that is why I’m here, Tanwen realized. She symbolized two great tribes destroyed by Rome, yet with Brude, she would make a stand to keep the brutal foreign force from Caledonia’s borders. She and Brude would see to it that no Pict tribe would be annihilated. And her descendants would teach the Celtic ways to those in the future, who after accepting foreign beliefs, would come to forget their ancestors. In that, she was like the goddess: she carried the seed of rebirth, so that which had fallen would rise again.

Now, she was hopeful for this marriage. A soft, warm feeling rose in her and spread its hopeful glow through her body. She knew her face had broken into a smile. Boudica was wise and had led her to the right tribe, the right man. Her new tribe, the Caledonii, would not be annihilated by Rome, as her mother’s and her grandmother’s. She and Brude would rouse the northern tribes to fight the Romans and win at last, keeping her new tribe and her future family—the children she would have with Brude—safe and free of Rome.

At that moment, her eyes were caught in Brude’s fiery gaze. He wanted her, and she wanted him. The gods had made it so. Tanwen stuffed the piece of bread into her mouth as the others did the same. The soft warmth melted on her tongue as she chewed. It was so delicious, so filling…so blessed.

Happy St. Patrick’s Day,

Cornelia Amiri

The man who created St. Patrick’s Day is now long forgotten by Irish

Franciscan friar is the man who made the Saint’s day a reality for millions worldwide

By
Irish Voice Editorial,

Published Sunday, March 17, 2013, 7:02 AM
Luke Wadding
Luke Wadding a Co. Waterford native born succeeded against all the odds in making St. Patrick’s Day a feast day – A statue of Wadding was erected on the Mall in Waterford in the 1950s
For The rest of the article click here
Scotland now claiming Ireland’s patron Saint Patrick as one of their own

Local historian claims St. Patrick was born in Scotland

By
IRISHCENTRAL STAFF WRITERS,

Published Sunday, March 17, 2013, 7:26 AM

A Scottish historian believes that St Patrick, Ireland’s patron saint was born in West Dunbartonshire, Scotland. Up to now, it has always been reported that Ireland’s patron saint was from Wales

Read more: http://www.irishcentral.com/news/Scotland-now-claiming-Irelands-patron-Saint-Patrick-as-one-of-their-own-198669501.html

The top ten best Irish toasts for Saint Patrick’s Day
Raise your glasses to these funny and on-the-money Irish toasts – Sláinte!
By IrishCentral Staff Writers,

Read more:
http://www.irishcentral.com/saint_patricks_day/Top-10-best-Irish-toasts-for-Christmas-and-New-Year-79793302.htmlHappy St. Patrick’s Day,

Cornelia Amiri

http://CelticRoamnceQueen.com

Happy St. Patrick’s Day.

On St. Patrick’s Day, at least in the United States, anyone who doesn’t wear green gets pinched. So this St. Patrick’s Day, when you don your green to honor Ireland, give a thought or two to old King Tighernmas (Teernmas) of Tara, who brought the color green to the emerald Isle.

Through trade with the Phoenicians, he obtained dyes to create green, yellow, and blue and introduced those colors to Ireland between 900 – 1534 BC, as his reign fell somewhere in that timeline. He also enacted sumptuary laws on the numbers of colors worn by the different classes. Six colors to the highest of society, kings, queens, druids, five for the chieftains, four for land owners who offered hospitality, three for warriors, two for peasants and one for slaves. By using plaid the Irish and other Celts wore multi-colors, three to six, at one time. So under Tighernmas’s law slaves or servants wore solid colors, peasants wore checkered patterns, and plaid for higher classes.

Also, speaking of Celtic apparel, the legend is the first smelting of gold in Ireland occurred during Tighernmas’s reign. The King’s wright, Iuchadán, worked gold found near the Liffey, the river that runs through Dublin. So the Irish could pin their plaid cloaks to their tunics with gold broaches and band their necks with gold torques. Torques, neck rings, open-ended at the front, are the most recognized ornaments of the Celtic world. Worn from 1200 BC to 600 AD, by Kings, Queens, and Druids, as emblems of royalty like a crown. Not only did they serve as symbols of power, but also held power. An example is a story passed through time of a Roman solider, Manlius Torquatus, who earned his name after taking a torque from a fallen warrior. By stealing the torque, Torquatus captured the warrior’s strength, conferring it onto himself. Torques weren’t the only thing Tighernmas ordered from Iuchadan, he gave gold drinking horns to each of his followers.

Happy St. Patrick Day,

Cornelia Amiri

Each St. Patrick Day the San Antonio River of the famed River Walk is dyed green and you can take a relaxing cruise down the colorful waterway. The San Antonio St. Patrick Day includes a leprechaun, bands of pipers, and a Scottish highlander brandishing a long sword.As you can see even Texans go for the wearin of the green and get into the grand celebration of St. Patrick and rightly so. Texas has a long history of Irish settlers. The Mexican government recruited Irish families to settle in Texas because they were seen as good Catholics and loyal colonist.

Eight Irish born men were among those who are known to have died fighting for Texas in defense of the Alamo: Samuel E. Burns (1810-1836), Andrew Duvalt (1804-1836), Robert Evans (1800-1836), Joseph M. Hawkins (1799-1836), Thomas Jackson (?-1836), James McGee(?-1836), Jackson J. Rusk (?-1836), Burke Trammel1 (1810-1836), and William Ward (1806-1836). To honor their deaths, the San Antonio Harp and Shamrock society placed a wreath at the Alamo on St. Patrick Day.

 

Happy St. Patrick’s Day,

Cornelia Amiri

Hi everyone,

The TRS St. Patrick Day party continues with more Celtic reads. Druidess is set against the backdrop of the rebel queen Boudica.

Here’s a blurb and a short excerpt.

In first century AD, conquering Romans plunge the British tribes into chaos. The future of the mist covered isle of Britannia and its brave people rest in the hands of two druids, whose views are as different as fire and ice. Yet they find love together. Arch Druid Rhys is a master of the sacred mysteries but a novice in the ways of the heart. Sulwen, a sacred druidess, discovers Rhys, the shape shifter, has evoked a basic, feral desire in her, only to find the goddess may soon exact the unfathomable price of taking him from her. Though their love is a potent as their magic, is it strong enough to survive the turmoil of the Romans, the Rebel Queen Boudica, and the gods?

Excerpt:

She took a deep breath and fluttered her slender fingers against the vibrating strings.

“Skin of cream,

hair of flame,

swift chariot,

spear held high,

Boudica avenged

her daughters’ pain.

Hear the drums beat,

the Carnyxs blow.

Woad warriors

with whetted swords,

slew Roman scourge.

Warrior queen

Andraste’s image

on her hilt.

Her white blade

drank red blood.

Celts were strong.

Gods were happy.

Slaughtered by Rome,

we took death

like our queen.

Dragons slay eagles.

The day will come

when Rome falls,

we will yet stand.”

Still clutching the harp, Sulwen’s eyes watered as she gazed at the teary-eyed faces of Awena and Eiry. “I had not meant to make you sad.” Sulwen’s throat tightened as she fought back her own tears for Boudica.

Thanks,

Cornelia Amiri

http://CelticRomanceQueen.com

Hi everyone,

 

Here’s another Celtic tale, a young adult novel, set in 8th century Wales. The Anglo Saxon Chronicles records in the year of our lord 750, Cuthred of Wessex fought Ethelbald of Mercia. It not only states that these two Saxon War Lords battled each other but that they both battled the Welsh. In 760 in the Battle of Hereford, Elisedd map Gwylog of Powys and his son Brochfael map Elisedd led the Welsh to victory  against Mercia. Elisedd’s great-grandson, Cyngen map Cadell built a monument to Elisedd known as the Pillar of Eliseg. It stands to this day. From the dark ages, the time of warrior kings like Ethelbald, Cuthred, and Elisedd springs my young adult tale of The Prince of Powys.

Branda, a Saxon princess of Mercia helps Blaise, a prince of Powys, escape her father’s stronghold. In turn, he vows to escort the princess to her sister in Scotland so she can escape an arranged marriage. Instead, he holds her captive as his hostage in the unbreachable hill fort of Dinas Bran, where she captures his heart. Will Blaise be forced to throw away his honor for love or tear out his heart for honor?

Here’s a short excerpt:

After sleeping off the ale, he rose at dawn recommitted to keeping Branda, and prepared for his mission in the old ways.

Scan bore the woad and the limewash Neilyn had mixed. Blaise washed his hair with the powdered limestone and water mix then spiked his mane until it stood as thick as a hedgehog’s coat. With the woad dye, Neilyn painted magic symbols of the gods upon Blaise’s forehead. Painted tattoos liken to the sacred images engraved on the long stones in the tombs. The swirls began small and curved into larger loops. The gods shielded him with these mystical symbols.

The druid chanted ancient words of power as Scan strummed the harp.

“Before the sky and the earth and the sea,
Before the sun and the moon and the stars,
I place a circle of safekeeping around you.
Oh Blaise, bind yourself to Bran’s power,
mighty is its strain, oh Blaise.
Magical energy will enliven,
And empower you on the field of battle.
Thrust the Saesneg with the sword of Nuada.
Around you, I place a circle of protection,
To bind Bran’s power to you, oh Blaise.”

Scan continued to strum the harp and Neilyn drew blue circles upon Blaise’s legs, arms, and chest as he continued the enchantment.

“Win your princess as Bran foretold,
So the two of you shall return to us,
To live a life full of honey,
With peace as ample as the sky.
Be this nine times eternal.
I place a circle of protection around you.
Oh Blaise, bind yourself to Bran’s power.”

Blaise picked up a bronze mirror adorned with Celtic tracery. The image of a warrior prince painted with the magic of the old gods gazed back at him. Pride and determination filled him with a warm glowing sensation of peace and invincibility.

Before he vaulted onto his steed, Neilyn presented him with Nuada’s sheathed sword of power. Blaise drew the blade from the serpent etched sheath. The
gleaming bronze hilt, curved in never-ending circles of life, mesmerized him as rays of sunlight danced upon the long, powerful sword, which glistened with an ethereal luster.

Neilyn bent his head down and kissed the gleaming blade. Blaise brandished it high in the air as Brochfael, Elisedd, and all the gathered Cymry praised its power.

For more on my young adult fantasy/romance, The Prince of Powys, please visit my publisher’s site at  http://www.eternalpress.biz/book.php?isbn=9781615725823

and my website at http://CelticRomanceQueen.com

Happy St. Patrick’s Day,

Cornelia Amiri

Hi everyone,

I have a spotlight and contest at Vampire Book Realm on my vampiric dark fey
series, Dancing Vampires.
http://www.vampirebookrealm.com/cornelia-amiri–spotlight.html
Please stop by for a fun post on the first three books of the series, The Dance
Of The Vampires, Vampire Highland Fling, and Ever So Bonnie A Vampire and a
chance to win a free Dancing Vampire book.

Blurb/Vampire Highland Fling:
Murdina, a dark vampiric fey, hunts the Scottish Highlands for a man, but not
for blood—Murdina wants love. She spots Cameron playing the bagpipes, and when a
strong wind lifts his kilt, she takes a good look and decides he’s the one.

When Cameron meets a beautiful, mysterious woman who dances the Highland fling for him, his blood boils for her. Soon Murdina and Cameron are doing more than dancing. Wrapped in each other’s arms, they discover true love, but their time together is limited before Murdina’s fey sisters cross the portal to steal her back and probably kill him. Is their love strong enough to overcome the threat her sisters pose to Murdina’s heart and to Cameron’s life?

Excerpt/Vampire Highland Fling:
Murdina should have immediately told her sisters a stone had fallen from the highland cairn. She didn ‘t. When she glanced in the well and saw the light in it, she knew. It was what she’d been waiting for. With the portal to the human realm open, she sneaked out of her round hut and made her way to the nearby cave. She stilled her thoughts and passed like vapor through the rock wall underhill and to the sod of Scotland.

Before her vision adjusted, she heard booming, high-toned, textured music vibrating through the air. Murdina’s bare feet tickled as she shuffled across the soft grass beside the mound of rocks. She breathed in the rich, spicy fragrance of myrtle growing across the field. Grass wavered in the breeze as the setting sun whisked ribbons of orange, purple and gold across the evening sky.

A sandy-haired man strutted down the narrow, paved road, one arm wrapped around his bagpipes, the mouthpiece stuffed between his full lips. With his fingers tapping the holes, he played a warm, joyful tune, infusing the air with energy.

Goose bumps broke out on her tingling arms as she drew nearer the stranger. Her gaze fell on the muscular legs beneath his Hayes kilt, a red and green tartan with thin white lines. She swept her gaze to his broad chest, which filled out his black tailored shirt. She appreciated the manly touch of the light bit of fuzz dusting his strong jaw, above his lip and on his firm chin.

The wind stirred and threw his kilt up, exposing a thick bulge. Even flaccid, it appeared long and impressive. She came to a stop and gazed transfixed at his bare cock before the breeze released its hold and dropped the kilt over it.

Her hunt for a man had come to an end already. She just needed to move in and capture her prey. She smoothed the silk skirt of the green dress draping her slender body. She knew the tune he played, singing out as she stepped close to the road. “Heel for heel and toe for toe, arm in arm and row in row, all for Marie’s wedding.” She stood in front of him now.

The music stopped. He gaped at her, his mouth wide open.

“Hello.” She forgot mortals were startled when people suddenly appeared before them. She made a mental note to remember that. As she gazed into his gleaming brown eyes, she felt the heat from them on her fey flesh.

His thick brows arched. “I didn’t see you there.”

He may not have seen her, but she saw him. Her attraction to him was so strong, she couldn’t look away. “I turned from my path when I heard the music and came to watch you play.”

He held his bagpipes with one hand and scratched his head with the other. ”There’s just this road and the pasture.”

As she leaned her head back, her long red hair swayed across her back. “If you know how to look for them, you’ll find old paths all over the Highlands leading to places you wouldn’t believe.”

His gaze slid to her breasts, then he turned away, as if embarrassed. “I’m Cameron. I am coming from a wedding I played at.” He slapped his bagpipes.

The humans did that, they married. Fell in love with someone who felt the same for them until they both died, then found each other again in their next life.

Thanks,

Cornelia Amiri
http://CelticRomanceQueen.com

Announcing my new Steampunk/Romance, Conquistadors In Outer Space, the subtitle is Ana’s Interplanetary Conquest.

In an alternate history of 1610 AD, the King of Spain commissions the creation of giant cannons, fashioned from Leonardo Da Vinci’s design, for the purpose of blowing the island of England to the bottom of the ocean. Since that country separated from papal authority, Spain has the approval of the church to separate England from the rest of Europe. Then, after an interrogation by priests with the inquisition, Galileo sees a faraway dot in the night sky with his new telescope. He shows the pope planet X, an actual New World Spain can claim and all the inhabitants can be converted to Christianity. Also all the gold and riches discovered there will belong to Spain alone. So they find a way to use the cannons to that end instead.

Thrown off the Spanish estate she worked at all her life, Ana, a milkmaid, seeks a new life. Disguised as a rich widow, she boards a rocket, to be blasted out of a huge cannon, and targeted for the newly discovered planet, X. Sparks fly when she finds Ramon, the only man she ever loved, heir of the estate she worked on, is flying to Planet X as well. As the Spanish governor of Plant X searches for gold, the treasure Ramon seeks is Ana. His conquest is challenging, though he swears to protect and love her, as a noble he cannot marry a peasant. Ana cannot deny her desire for Ramon, but she will not be his mistress. Will his conquest of her heart succeed or will Ana make a life for herself alone amid the wonders and dangers of Planet X.

Excerpt:

In an instant the loudest boom and ka-chung noises he ever heard rattled his ears as the metal projectile shook violently. He clenched his teeth as every muscle in his body quaked with the blast.

“It is the Estrella. It is hurdling through space to planet X.”

He recognized the voice of the priest who strapped him in. Ana’s ship, De Nunez had told him. “Is all well,” he yelled out. “Did they lift off safely?”

Now that he had found her again, he needed to protect her. Once they arrived on planet X, he would seize this second chance to win her heart for she’d stolen his long ago.

“Si.” The priest’s tone held a tinge of awe. “In a blaze of light they blasted through the heavens. They are in God’s hands now.”

Ramon let out a long breath of relief. Ana was safe, shooting through space. The Estrella had cast off and the Juanita would soon follow. When his rocket blasted off in an explosion of light and fire, he wouldn’t hear anything.

He felt his mind loose itself in drowsiness. He shut his eyes under the power of this death like sleep and prayed in twenty years he would wake. When he did, he’d be on Planet X with the woman he’d always loved. He knew for the next twenty years of the voyage, he would dream of Ana.

Thank you,

Cornelia Amiri
writing as Maeve Alpin

Maeve Alpin

The vampire heroines of my Dancing Vampire series with Ellora’s Cave are pretty unusual. They’re not vampires at all. They are creatures of Scottish folklore, Celtic Vampiric fey, the baobhan sith. They roam the Scottish highlands in packs and all of them are women, no men. Voluptuous and enticing, these beauties are always wear green gowns. Also, they have talons. No fangs. Like other vampires, they drink human blood and fry in the sunlight. In some tales they have hooves for feet.
Often referred to as dancing vampires, they target young men coming from pubs at night. The baobhan sith dance with them until the men grow exhausted. Then the vampiric temptresses transform their long nails into talons and rake them across the men’s backs. Clawing at their victim’s skin, draining their blood, then drinking it. So the baobhan sith are always female and their victims are always men.
For a modern take on the baobhan sith, enter Ellora’s cave and step Underhill to visit these dark fey in my Dancing Vampire series, the tales of five of seven baobhan sith sisters. The first two quickies, Dance Of The Vampires and Vampire Highland Fling are available now, and Ever So Bonnie A Vampire is coming in mid April.

Blurb, Dance Of The Vampires:
One of Ian’s six brothers kicks over the stones of an ancient cairn, unknowingly freeing Sorcha and her six sisters from Underhill. The seven handsome Scots are enchanted by the voluptuous temptresses until they turn on the men. Ian captures Sorcha, giving his brothers a chance to escape. With the dark fey woman still in his grasp, Ian is saved by the rising sun.
Her sisters vanish with the light of dawn and Sorcha is trapped in the mortal realm. The seductress can’t resist Ian’s attentions as he stirs throbbing urges she’s never felt before. Ian is bewitched by the wild delights offered by this vampire siren. He can’t get enough of her. Still, her wicked sisters and his highland brothers want nothing more than to attack and kill each other. Will Sorcha and Ian’s sizzling passion prove strong enough to overcome the differences between the dark fey and humans?
Blurb, Vampire Highland Fling:
Murdina, a dark vampiric fey, hunts the Scottish Highlands for a man, but not for blood—Murdina wants love. She spots Cameron playing the bagpipes, and when a strong wind lifts his kilt, she takes a good look and decides he’s the one.
When Cameron meets a beautiful, mysterious woman who dances the Highland fling for him, his blood boils for her. Soon Murdina and Cameron are doing more than dancing. Wrapped in each other’s arms, they discover true love, but their time together is limited before Murdina’s fey sisters cross the portal to steal her back and probably kill him. Is their love strong enough to overcome the threat her sisters pose to Murdina’s heart and to Cameron’s life?
Blurb, Ever So Bonnie A Vampire:
Calin has had fantasies about the vampiric fey, Ever’s, warm, curvaceous body ever since they danced a year ago. When they meet again he waste no time in claiming and capturing her. Once the sun rises, Ever can’t leave the earthly realm and is bound by fey lore to the human, Calin. Though he has saved her from the sun, things get pretty hot in his arms. Thrust into the mortal realm, his love making excites her like no fey man’s ever has but she’s consumed with the vow she made to her sisters to not leave them for a mortal man. She fights her feelings for Calin and seeks help from goddess Morrigan.

The goddess has feelings of her own for the tall, muscular mortal so she frees Ever to return Underhill. It isn’t until Ever’s back with her sisters that she realizes her heart is still held captive by Calin. When Calin spurns Morrigan’s attentions, the goddess’s lust turns to vengeance. With Ever out of his reach, Underhill, and a goddess shape shifting into different beasts to hunt and kill him, Calin McDuff must risk his life and fight all odds to be with the woman he loves.

Thank you,

Cornelia Amiri

Conquistadors In Outer Space
Steampunk/Romance
Coming Feb. 1

Blurb:
Thrown off the Spanish estate she worked at all her life, Ana, a milkmaid, seeks a new life. Disguised as a rich widow, she boards a rocket, to be blasted out of a huge cannon, and targeted for the newly discovered planet, X. Sparks fly when she finds Ramon, the only man she ever loved, heir of the estate she worked on, is flying to Planet X as well. As the Spanish governor of Plant X searches for gold, the treasure Ramon seeks is Ana. His conquest is challenging, though he swears to protect and love her, as a noble he cannot marry a peasant. Ana cannot deny her desire for Ramon, but she will not be his mistress. Will his conquest of her heart succeed or will Ana make a life for herself alone amid the wonders and dangers of Planet X.

Excerpt::
A woman crawled out of the hold. “Blow it! I’m not going down with the airship.”

Gritting his teeth against the chill downpour, Ramon glanced at the strange lady. A howling wind swept the rocking deck and snatched the wavering, black-clad woman. She grabbed the rail to save her life before the gush could toss her overboard. Then the ship heaved and she lost her grip. Her screech of terror vibrated in the air even with the roaring turbulence.

“By all the saints.” Ramon pivoted forward, grabbing the woman’s waist, he yanked her against him, and saved her from a fall to her death. “Get down below,” he shouted against the furry of the wind.

She ripped the wet veil from her face and gasped, her eyes widened in shock.

Something about her jogged Ramon’s memory, but the pounding rain obscured the details of her features. Some type of flying debris struck the woman’s forehead, but Ramon managed to hold onto both the rail and the lady, now limp in his arms. When a sailor latched a hemp rope from one side of the ship rail to the other, Ramon grabbed it, waded across to the hold, and crawled inside, still cradling the slender lady.

As the ship rode the rumbling storm outside, inside the hold the thrashing and hissing of pistons, gears, and steam rattled his ears. He had not thought it possible, but the din sounded noisier than the back streets of Seville.

He lifted his hand from the woman’s head, glancing at the scarlet splash of fresh blood on his palm. “The dama bleeds. Is there a physician on board?”

A man, who declared he was a surgeon, took over her care. “The wound is slight. She shall soon awake.” In a ponderous tone the surgeon added, “I always thought of the widow as elderly. Who would have known she was so young?”

The woman released a long, low moan.

“I am at a loss to comment on her age for I do not know the dama. I was but blessed with the good fortune to be there in her time of need.” Ramon had hoped for a real doctor, surgeons were always cutting off an arm or a leg, so he stayed nearby in case the woman needed rescuing from the surgeon.

With a deep rumbling cough the surgeon cleared his throat. “No doubt the widow will want to thank the man who saved her life.”

“Si, I would like to wish her a swift recovery.” He’d rescued a woman. He smiled brightly as he knelt at the lady’s side. Ramon stiffened, his smile faded. He could not breathe, his heart raced from shock. “Ana?”

She cupped her forehead. “Don Ramon you have my undying gratitude. Indeed you saved my life. Do forgive me, but I feel the need to rest. I will join you later to speak of old times.”

He noticed her sad, half-smile. “Indeed. I look forward to speaking with you, Senora Reyes.”

Ana rolled her eyes downward and whispered, “Ave Maria.” She turned her face to the wall.

Thank you,

Maeve Alpin – pen name
Cornelia Amiri