Born of Oak and Silver
Author
Marie McKean
Author Bio
Marie McKean was born in rural Utah, far from city life. Surrounded by the Abajo Blue Mountains, she gained a passion for the serenity of nature. When a young adult, her sheltered and quiet-mountain life came to an abrupt end when she moved to the “Big Apple.” New York City opened her eyes to a whole new world. She later moved to San Francisco in pursuit of her advancing career and the completion of her degree in British and American Literature. Now, she creates characters that confront all the horror and happiness of real life by resurrecting forgotten historical folklore to tell the stories of her imagination.
Description
YOU CANNOT CHANGE THE LIFE YOU’VE BEEN GIVEN.
All that you can do is make the most of what you’ve been dealt—fight a good fight, resist being beaten by circumstance, and hope that somehow, despite it all, you’re able to accomplish the impossible.
But even then you cannot change the fact that you were born cursed.
I am one of those unlucky few upon whom the Curse of the Four Fathers has fallen.
It is I who must bear the burden of having a life that is unchangeably intertwined with the Fae. A sorrow made all the more great by knowing that where they are tragedy, loss, misery, and despair most assuredly follow.
As a Druid it is my responsibility to uphold the boundaries that keep the worlds of the Tylwyth Teg, and our own, separate. As a man it is my only ambition to protect the family and woman I so desperately love.
The only problem: I’m not sure this curse will allow for me to do both.
Book excerpt
Instantly, I am brought back to the painful reality of the hell I have been forced to live. Peace, yet again, is merely an imagined and forced perception. Just as quickly as my mood was heightened by the prospect of final release, the rain casts everything in a dank shade of gray.
The water continues to drip down my back, and bitterly I shiver at its sting. As I breathe in the rain, feel the contrast between its cool moisture and my hot, living breath, I accept that I can only remain oblivious to the obvious for so long. At last, I find the courage to stare at the headstone that lies before me.
A desolate hunk of rock carved in the shape of a tree stump looms in the shadows before me. It is moss covered, weather-worn, and neglected. Only a few indifferent words were given to remember its charge:
Daine C. Dalton
August 15, 1840 – November 22, 1915
Daine Dalton’s gravestone states that he has been dead for a hundred years – yet here I am, still living, breathing, bleeding, feeling, and . . . unending.
I am Daine Caradoc Dalton.
This is my grave.
Author Website
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Born of Oak and Silver
