Title: Callum's Fate
Author: Dianne Hartsock
Publisher: NineStar Press
Release Date: November 27, 2017
Heat Level: 5 - Erotica
Pairing: Male/Male Menage
Length: 16000
Genre: Fantasy, fantasy, threesome, paranormal, historical, bisexual, pansexual, gay
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Synopsis
In 1780, Scotland, following a harsh
year of drought, Callum Mackenzie is forced from his father's farm in the hopes
of finding work. But as fate would have it, Callum is lured onto the moors by
the will-o-the-wisp. Lost in the dark, he falls into enchantment, encountering
faeries and nymphs, until he stumbles into the arms of a licentious Barrow-Wight
who lays claim to his soul.
Hearing his silent pleas, Donal sends
Liam the gruagach (faery) to rescue Callum and bring him to his farm, a place
of refuge from the Fae. Callum is happy working on Donal’s farm, slowly falling
in love with the beautiful, silver-haired gruagach.
Yet there's something wrong in the
nearby forest… Despite Donal’s warnings, Callum is lured into the forest and
becomes tangled in its magic, easy prey for the Barrow-Wight. Will Liam be able
to strike a deal with the Barrow-Wight to save Callum’s life, or has Callum
found his last resting place instead?
Excerpt
Callum’s Fate
Dianne Hartsock © 2017
All Rights Reserved
Chapter One
Callum ran until his lungs burned, every
breath ragged and painful. Fear spurred him on, though fog began to cling to
the rough mounds of the barrows, making such flight dangerous. Stones stabbed
through his worn boots with each footfall, but he daren’t stop. There had been
voices in the shadows…
Exhaustion slowed him, his chest heaving
as he fought for air. Dusk spread its dark mantle on the landscape, and he
shivered as a finger of dread traveled up his spine. Perilous to be on the
moors at night without shelter. He cursed the misfortune that had sent him this
way, but he was hungry and ill. He’d followed the will-o’-the wisp, thinking
they were the lights of a farmhouse. His brothers would crudely have called
them swamp gas and continued on the road, but Callum had always been the fool.
An owl hooted in the semidarkness,
making his skin crawl. “Sweet Lord,” he muttered, heart thumping. “Protect me—”
He stumbled on a loose stone and fell
heavily against a dark mound of earth. Oh, God! The ground caved in under him,
and he dropped into the barrow in a shower of dirt.
“Save me!” he sobbed as he scrambled to
his knees.
Sinewy arms reached up from the
blackness and twined around him. Callum screamed, but no sound escaped his
throat, choked with terror. He was yanked against a hard chest and hands ran
over him, disembodied in the darkness.
“Soft. Sweet,” a voice sliced the
silence, and a cold breath washed over his face. He gagged on the waft of rot
and decay. The tip of a dry tongue scraped along his jaw, and he shuddered
against the body under him. “Nice strong bones to gnaw,” the voice continued.
“Sweet marrow to suck and swallow. Shall I eat you, my lovely one?”
Callum whimpered as the low tones wound
through his head. The mists parted, and moonlight filled the barrow, showing
him the creature. He gasped at the cold beauty of its face. Eyes dark as pitch
burned into him and brushed against his soul. Lush lips, dripping honey,
overripe, took his mouth in a kiss that sent his pulse into a riot of hunger and
desire.
A vague warning sounded in his head,
urging him to run. The wight slid its hands down Callum’s back and squeezed his
ass, and Callum groaned as he was rocked against the long, hard length of the
creature’s erection. His own cock grew heavy, aching as it rubbed along the
impossible thickness of the ghoul’s shaft.
Nimble fingers pushed against his balls
and sensitive hole through his clothing, and Callum’s deep moan spilled into
the lush mouth sucking his tongue. There’d been a boy back home he’d touched on
occasion, but they’d never… He never… Even so, the thought of the wight’s huge
cock sliding into him, stretching him open, filled him with a wild lust he
couldn’t control.
He trembled and sobbed with need as the
creature masked as a man trailed kisses down his neck. It moved his long hair
aside to nibble at his collarbone. The thing reached a hand between them and
clutched Callum’s cock, and pleasure, hot as fire, swept through him.
The wight returned its plump lips to his
ear. “Stay with me,” it whispered as it stroked and squeezed him into a frenzy
of bliss.
Callum fought to catch his breath,
dizzy. “Yes.” He panted. He’d promise anything to keep the creature stroking
his dick. The wight snaked its other hand into his trousers and tugged his balls,
and he cried out as he came, his orgasm ripping through him in waves of
ecstasy. His seed spilled in a warm gush into the creature’s hand. Even when he
was spent, the thing continued to pull on his sensitive cock, sending
unbearable sparks of bliss through him. He fell weeping against its chest,
begging to be let go.
“Mine.”
The wight’s whisper nudged Callum from
the dream into which he was falling. What?
“No!” He pushed up in a panic. What had
he sworn to do? Large hands reached for him, but terror gave him strength and
he scrambled for the ledge above him. Catching hold of the crumbling lip, he
swung his legs over and rolled from the barrow. The wight’s screech of fury
chased him across the glen. Running in terror, he skirted the remaining mounds
and fled onto the moors.
Merciful Lord! He’d been with a barrow
wight, allowing the wicked thing to slide its tongue into his mouth and touch
his cock. Was his soul now tainted by this ghost guarding a long forgotten
grave? Was he doomed?
Mists closed around him and hid the moon
in a veil of cold gray. He came to a stumbling halt, fear pounding through him
in time to the wild beat of his heart. As he caught his breath, he heard the
unmistakable sound of flowing water, perhaps a creek winding through the
heather. Callum gnawed his lips. Danger lurked on the water’s edge for an
unwary man.
On the other hand, men built homes along
the waterways and learned to guard against the faery folk. He sighed. Either
choice spelled risk, but hunger and loneliness won out and sent him through the
thick heath in search of the water’s path.
The gray fog made it hard to see his
way, and he cursed when he stepped into the creek before he knew he’d come to
it. An icy chill raced up his leg, and he glanced around, feeling as if he’d
been startled from a dream. The mists were gone, leaving the fields brilliant
with moonlight. Faint music caught his ears and he spied several globes of light
in the distance. Will-o’-the-wisp? He didn’t know, but the haunting melody
tugged at his heart and he walked toward it, careful of his footing.
It was caution that saved him before he
made the fatal mistake of stepping into the faery ring that suddenly appeared
at his feet. He might have become lost in their dark realm. He stared down,
delighted with the brightly dressed wee folk fluttering and dancing in the
circle of mushrooms. Laughter floated up to him and he smiled reflexively.
Several of the pretty creatures spied him and flittered up to tug at his
clothing with tiny hands. These were male, scantily dressed, and one saucy lad
winked a bright eye and flew up to nibble at his lips.
Callum laughed and shooed them gently
off. “I’m not fool enough to join you,” he told the three hovering near his
face. He was amused by their pouts but felt lonelier than ever as he turned
away. Exhaustion unexpectedly slammed into him and he dropped to his knees.
Panicked by his sudden weakness, he tried to climb to his feet, but his head
swam and he pitched onto his face as the world went dark.
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Meet the Author
Dianne is the author of paranormal/suspense, fantasy adventure, m/m romance, the occasional thriller, and anything else that comes to mind. She lives in the beautiful Willamette Valley of Oregon with her incredibly patient husband, who puts up with the endless hours she spends hunched over the keyboard letting her characters play. She says Oregon’s raindrops are the perfect setting in which to write. There’s something about being cooped up in the house with a fire crackling on the hearth and a cup of hot coffee warming her hands, which kindles her imagination. Currently, Dianne works as a floral designer in a locally-owned gift shop. Which is the perfect job for her. When not writing, she can express herself through the rich colors and textures of flowers and foliage.Website | Facebook | Twitter | Instagram
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