Finding Roanoak
Emme is the midwife for the Roanoak Colony. Circumstances
threaten their survival, but Emme has met a European man calling himself Tighe
in the forest where no European man should be.
Tighe has problems of his own. His people fled across the sea to escape mortal men and their iron weapons, but now they are dying out. Stealing children is not an option, but Tighe hopes if Emme and some of the other from the failing colony will agree to come live with his people they will interbreed. However his mother is opposed to bringing mortals into Faerie and threatens to close the border sealing the Fae in and sealing their doom. At the same time, he has lost Emme's trust and does not know how to regain it. His efforts to protect her with Fae magic have also cast a suspicion of witchcraft on her from the expedition.
Tighe has problems of his own. His people fled across the sea to escape mortal men and their iron weapons, but now they are dying out. Stealing children is not an option, but Tighe hopes if Emme and some of the other from the failing colony will agree to come live with his people they will interbreed. However his mother is opposed to bringing mortals into Faerie and threatens to close the border sealing the Fae in and sealing their doom. At the same time, he has lost Emme's trust and does not know how to regain it. His efforts to protect her with Fae magic have also cast a suspicion of witchcraft on her from the expedition.
Excerpt:
“I want you
to teach me how to heal a broken bone.”
“I would
teach you if I could, but I cannot.”
“Why?
Because I’m a woman? I'm a midwife trained in healing. I'm a willing student.”
He stepped
around the tree and leaned on it. “I cannot. You must be born to it.”
“I must be
born a man, you mean.” Emme folded her arms.
“No.”
Emme
waited. She wasn't sure why. None of the men in her life ever explained 'no.'
For them, it was the end of the conversation. Why should this one be different?
“What is your name?”
“Tighe.”
“Tighe?
That is not a good English name.”
He laughed.
The warm, rich sound of it trilled down her spine. “No, it is not.”
“Then where
are you from? What are you doing here? There isn't supposed to be anyone living
in these parts.” Emme smacked her hands against her skirts. The sound wasn't
loud enough to be satisfying. “We are supposed to be the only English here. We
have a contract from the Queen.”
“You didn't
tell anyone about me, did you?”
His tone
was wrong. In addition to the striking coloring, she now noticed the stranger was
a little odd looking. His face was thin, regal even. And a little anxious.
Something about the tight set of his eyes and the pressure along his lips. His
accent was a bit odd too. Like none she’d ever heard. “No, why?”
He sighed,
the first overt sign of his tension. “We don't need your people hunting us
again.”
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C. B. Maurice was an odd child who grew into an odd woman with a fascination for short, sweet stories and things unknown. When not reading or writing, she enjoys travel and rain, though not for days. (The rain, not the travel. Travel can go on for weeks. Rain has worn out its welcome after 24 hours.)
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Website: https://cbmaurice.wordpress.com/
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