As the latest in her family’s long line of Stewards, Ruth Macken awaits the arrival of a warrior sworn to the Tuatha dé Danaan, the Celtic gods her family has served since the beginning of time. For on that day, a magical battle will erupt. A war between druids and an evil that will decide the fate of mankind. Isaac Connel knows the battle is imminent, and is ready to fight, once again but from the moment he sees Ruth flitting around the sacred ground, he’s captivated by her fiery charms and a need to protect her. Despite Isaac’s assurances and the dreams that guide her, what can Ruth and her lover do to drive off this evil? Despite everything, will the world end at the hands of an evil god? ~~DRUID WARRIOR’S HEART is an historical paranormal romance that follows on the first book in the Celtic Stewards Chronicles, PASSION’S SACRED DANCE, and concerns the mythic battle that took place on the Macken family’s original Irish homestead in the year 1513.
Isaac narrowed his eyes through the darkness. Cyreth’s poetry had more power than she was wont to admit tonight. Had she summoned their enemies? Had she spoken to them?
He clasped the hilt of his harshad, willing her words to seep through the worlds and drive them back.
“We will defeat you,” he said into the night, in case any of Balor’s creatures listened. He hoped Cyreth’s ode had not emboldened the Enemy.
Off in the distance, the cows protested something; crickets sang their evening song. A weak light pierced the darkness. It wasn’t long before Isaac discerned hoofbeats pounding the packed earth. Who would come visiting this late? Perhaps it was Ruth’s wayward brother returned. Perhaps the traveler would keep moving.
He wasn’t moving very fast. That might be a good thing, Isaac mused.
The door opened behind him and Isaac turned.
Ruth stood on the threshold, the light behind her outlining her form like a divine halo. “Are you not chilled, sir?” she asked. “Come inside where it’s warm.”
Isaac smiled at her concern. “I’m fine, lass. I needed a breath of fresh air.”
“Cyreth’s poem was breathtaking,” she agreed. She shut the door behind her and, wrapping her shawl around her, she meandered her way to the edge of the porch. “I don’t know if I’ll ever forget it.”
“All men forget eventually,” he mused.
“Forget stories?” she guessed.
She broke his gaze to take in her property. “I don’t know how they could.”
“Neither do I. But it is a blessing some do.” Isaac sat down on the top step and gazed up at her. “What makes you so interested in war?”
“My brother came home with such fascinating stories when he studied with Father Ciaran.” She smoothed her skirt and stared into the distance. “I suppose they lodged in my imagination along with Mother’s tales.”
Isaac snorted. “Where they are more romantic than real life. Take my word on that.”
“How many have you fought in?”
He studied his nails but she had most of his attention. He willed her to come closer, and scolded himself for it.
You can’t ravish her yet. “This will be my twentieth.”
Her breath caught in her throat. She knew he didn’t speak of border wars, religious wars, or clan skirmishes. “It need not happen,” she said.
“Is that so? How can you tell?”
“I won’t let it.” She touched the knife at her belt. “My father’s blood has been shed. It’s enough to strike a balance.”
He gazed up at her through the dark night. Did she prophesy? Or was this a mere hope? Damn Cyreth for being inside when he needed a clear reading on the situation!
Maybe she would speak more. He took a chance and asked, “What balance would that be? What do you see?”
She took a breath and let it out, waving her hand through the air. “I see little. A battle.” After a moment’s silence, she shook herself. “But it’s no more than Mother tells. Whether or not it comes, who knows?”
“What if it did?” he asked.
“If it does,” she said, angling her chin, “what does it matter? I can’t stop it.”
The moonlight glinting off her eyes accentuated her innocence. He rose to see them better, but still maintained his distance. “No. But you can minimize the damage.”
“As if that’s as easy as kissing you.”
Isaac blinked and did as she asked. She squeaked in surprise, but soon melted. Her hands wrapped around his biceps, and slid up, and down. Isaac took a chance and encircled her in his arms meanwhile delving deeper into her sweet mouth. Her lips tasted of the fennel in the bread, and the cloves and mint she’d mixed in with dessert. Her kiss proved sweeter than any he’d ever tasted.
She tightened her grip on his arms. Her heart beat like a wild drummer against him. Or maybe the thrum sounded from his own heart.
Ruth returned his kiss with equal fervor, a fire that threatened to engulf him. But she soon pushed away from him.
“You’re liable to make me lose my head,” she gasped.
“Would that be a problem, lass?”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Juli D. Revezzo is a Florida girl with a love of speculative and romantic fiction and legend, and loves writing stories with all kinds of fantastical elements. She is the author of The Antique Magic series and the Paranormal Romance Celtic Stewards Chronicles series, New Adult romance Changeling’s Crown, and many short stories. She is also a member of the Magic Appreciation Tour. To learn more about this and future releases, visit her at: www.julidrevezzo.com, follow her on Facebook, Goodreads, Google+, Pinterest for images and articles that have inspired the Celtic Stewards Chronicles and Twitter Sign up for her newsletter HERE.