Leanan sídhe

Art by Anne Stokes. 

An entry on writing. com for a group (Coffee Shop for Fantasy Society) I participated in.
Based on the definition of the: Leanan sídhe

-Given Here:
 http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Leanan_s%C3%ADdhe


"Do you love me?”

“No.”

Shannon knew he lied, but it stung none the less. How could he, a creature of the mortal plains not love her, a Lianhan Shee? It just wasn’t possible; a man who denied her love just did not exist… Until now.

“No?”

“No, Shannon. I desire you, I like you, but I do not love you.” His voice was tight, his eyes dark and his fists were clenched over his chest where he’d crossed his arms only moments earlier.

“Are you sure?” A tight white gown made of the finest fairy silk clung to her curves, showcasing her every asset, and she knew she looked good, too good that he should be able to deny her.

“I am positive.” His answer rang hollow, but without a confession of his feelings she could not keep him.

“And you will never love me?” To be normal would mean life in the mortal planes, with this man as her only love. She’d loved frequently in the past, more so than any woman had a right to, but never had she wanted love in return… Until now.

“Nope.”

Shannon stared at her lover for a moment, his green eyes bright in the early morning light. Nothing but a pair of jeans covered his form, and yet she found him more attractive than she had the day she’d lured him into her garden. Had it only been six months since their tryst had begun? “Then you win.”

“I know.”

He should not know. He couldn’t know. It was a lie, it had to be. The expression in his gaze proved he did not lie, and in her heart she knew. He knew, and he loved her, but he would never admit it. He would not die because of her. Relief flooded her entire being, and for the first time in her existence she smiled a genuine smile, guaranteed to bring men to their knees. Yet he did not fall.

“You own me, Walker of the night.”

“Yes, butterfly. I do.” He nodded, and a twinkle flashed in his emerald gaze. “I own you, and I desire that you come home with me.”

“Home- but where is your home?” Shannon watched, transfixed, as he gathered the remainder of his clothes and packed them gently into his leather pack. “Where am I going?” There was no need for her to pack any clothes; she’d lived in the Fae realms her entire life. Nothing existed for her outside its walls.

“Ireland.”

“But…but that’s in the mortal realms!”

“Yes it is.” He nodded once more, and slung the pack over his shoulder, then turned towards her and reached out with one hand.

“But I like it here.”

“Well I don’t, and I don’t love you. Therefore you are my slave, and you go where I say. Now come with me.” He held out his hand, beckoning she follow, yet still she resisted.

“Aren’t you afraid others will want me, afraid I will betray you to your brethren mortals?”

“Of course not. I order you to be faithful.”

Horrified, Shannon gasped. Her eyes widened in shock, and she shook her head. “But…but…that is impossible! I am a Lianhan Shee!”

“No, you are my slave.”

“I am still a fairy of love!”

“But you are my fairy of love, and you love only me.”

“Do you say this because you love me…Vampire?”

“No, I say this because I desire you. Now come on.” His hand slid into hers, and he gripped her pearlescent palm, then very carefully led her to the only door in the entire room. “You will live with me, In the Mortal realm. In Ireland, the land of my fathers.”

“But I don’t want to!”

“And I don’t care. Too long you have controlled the fates of men, driving them to destruction with your passionate kiss of death. My friends are gone because of you, my brothers. I swore their revenge, and have it I shall. You are mine, and mine alone. Come Fairy.”

Shannon whimpered, but followed as he led her across the room and out the door. At once her room faded, along with her silks, satins and the colors she so adored and in their place, rolling hills of green grass. The vampire smiled, and the moon glowed bright from its perch atop the world. Stars flashed brilliantly, and for an instant she wondered if maybe she had been wrong to seclude herself in the Tir-na-n-Og.

“You like it.”

“I do not, I hate it. It’s horrid and cold, and horrendous!” Shannon pouted prettily, and lied through her ivory teeth, but he was a vampire and he sensed her lie.

“You do like it, and you will like my home.”

Silently, Shannon allowed him to pull her along, until they reached the edge of the city where he hailed a car to take him further into the hills. “I will not like your domain, I will hate it, as I hate you.”

“If you hated me, Butterfly, then you would not be my slave. You love me, I know you do.”

“I will come to hate you.”

“I doubt that.” He smirked, and still he gripped her hand, though the cab moved easily through the rolling streets and there was nowhere for her to go.

"Why do you call me Butterfly?”

“Because of the wings.”

“What wings?”

“All fairies have wings.”

Shannon rolled her eyes, and crossed her arms angrily, before turning to stare out the window once more. It really was a lovely site, if she were truly honest.

“There is another matter we should discuss.”

“And what is that?” There could be nothing worse, nothing more depressing then becoming the slave of a vampire.

“The matter of my nightly feedings. I shall take blood from you.”

“But that’s sacrilegious!”

“That is the way of the vampire, I played your games, and you shall play mine. I will never hurt you, but I will take from you what I need. In exchange I will provide for your every need, you will be happy, and I will be faithful to you.”

“This sounds suspiciously like a marriage.”

“And would that be so bad?”

“Marriages are for those that love. Do you love me blood sucker?”

“I’ve told you already, Shannon. I do not love you, and I forbid you from ever asking me that again.”

“That’s not fair, how will I ever be free if I cannot claim your love!”

The vampire smiled. “That is the point. I will never crumble at your feet, though beautiful that they are. I have no wish to die. I have no wish to find my demise in your lovely arms.” The vampire sighed and glanced out into the night. “To love you would be suicide.”

“You lie. You do love me, I know you do. I see it when you look at me; I hear it in your voice when you speak to me.” Shannon scowled out her own window, then turned slowly when he carefully took her hand in his and gently slid a small silver ring onto the third finger of her left hand.

“There is no word to describe how I feel about you Shannon. Be my wife, and love me. That is all that I ask.”

“And in return?”

He shrugged.

Angry, Shannon jerked her hand back, then glared down at the ring gracing her finger. It was the most beautiful piece of jewelry she’d ever seen, and she loved it, but he could never know of her love. He’d already trapped her for eternity, vulnerability would only be a weapon for him to use against her. “Fine, I will love you, and I will do all that you say, but you will suffer my every whim, and you will suffer my passion, though you may not die as you would if you loved me, you will know me for what I am, a Lianhan Shee.”

The vampire smiled. “That is all that I ask, Butterfly.”

-cssndrmks ©

Hotter Than Hell: Excerpt

"I liked summer; I liked that I could wear my flip-flops, and that my neck didn’t get cold when I wore my hair back, and that I could paint my toe nails, and they wouldn’t be hidden beneath snow boots, or tennis shoes. I liked not having to wear gloves to scrape snow off my car, and being able to walk down the street for a coffee, without freezing my ass off. Ok, so I didn’t like sweating to death either, but hey, some sacrifices were worth making. I liked the freedom summer provided. Which was why I was able to walk to the coffee shop in only my sandals, a tank top, and a pair of jogging shorts, even though it was almost midnight. I would have liked it even more, except that I lived on the very edge of the bad part of town, and sometimes late at night, you could hear people scream. Tonight was one of those nights."


- An Excerpt from something I am working on, called: Hotter Than Hell


"I'm already hooked before even looking at any of the chapters.. if your chapter writings are anything like your hook at the end of this excerpt, then I don't have any doubt that I will really like whats to follow as well. Looking forward to reading more!" - review from reader on writing. com

-cssndrmks ©

Letters of the Past: A working title.

I do not own this image. 

Writers Cramp Entry, 1,000 words or less.



 My dearest Ann,


Though we did not know each other well- I know this letter may come as a shock to you. I am your Great Aunt Meredith. A sister to your grandmother, on your father’s side. I know they recently passed away, and your grandmother has as well, leaving you to your fate as a young woman alone in the world. Your mother left you her bookstore, 'The Howling Pages,' and your father left you a small sum of money to temporarily tide you over. Your grandmother left you nothing- not even a word of my existence.

I had intended to come to your aid the moment I heard, but recent events due to my health have kept me in my sick bed. I want you to know I have always loved you, and thought about you; especially in my recent years as I had no children of my own. A long ago quarrel with your grandmother kept me away, and I regret that we never had a chance to know each other.

If you are getting this, then I am afraid that I have passed on, as per the will I have left in your name. Included with this letter, I have two photos. One of which is of you and I. You were only three, so you will not remember me, but this has always been a treasured memento of mine, and I hope you enjoy it as much as I have.

The second photo is of my house, here in Ireland, it is now yours, along with all my worldly possessions and finances. Your grandmother talked your parents into hiding this part of your past, so I am not surprised that you are probably now thinking I have the wrong girl, though I assure you I do not. Also in the bottom of this box, you will find a postcard. This is also very near and dear to me as it is the first letter your great Uncle ever sent me, while he was away on missions. It is of the place were you were born. I regret that I will not be here to explain what I mean by this, as your parents have no doubt told you, that you were born in a hospital near Cleveland, as is normal for any human born child. You must trust that I have set everything up accordingly. You will be well taken care of, and a close friend of mine will stop by the first night you arrive to explain further.

Lastly, inside the wooden box, you will find a pair of earrings. They may not look like much now, simple little silver studs but I promise they hold great power. Though you do not have to wear them, they will protect you as long as they are near your person. Protection from what; you may ask. That is all for Gregoire to explain.
Love, Meredith Sinclair McAlister.

P.S, I love you, as I have always loved you, I will continue to do so. Remember, when you are surrounded by enemies trust in your partner. He will never steer you wrong.

###

Anne McAlister stared up at the magnificent mansion, her mossy green eyes wide with awe. Her hands trembled, and the letter she held shook as she reached up to slide the skeleton key into the lock of a massive, wooden door. A light inside clicked on, and the monstrous Oak door swung open easily. Not a single sound other than the click of her heels on the cold marble entry as she ventured cautiously inside. Unfortunately no one greeted her, as she had hoped.

Once inside she closed the door gently behind her, and shrugged out of her thin spring jacket before hanging it only the intricately decorated coat rack beside the door. Below, an umbrella stand with a single green umbrella in its center stood idly. Nervous, Anne opened the letter once more, and scanned its contents to make sure she had the right address. Confident, that she was exactly where she was supposed to be she refolded it and slid it into the back pocket of her jeans. Her heels clicked softly as she slowly walked across the entry and opened the first door she came to. Carefully, she peeked inside, then drew back with a gasp at the site of the three men sitting just inside, at a small marble café table.

Among the three, one male with piercing green eyes and jet-black hair stood. His crystalline gaze raked over her entire body casually then up to her eyes. He scowled. “You’re Anne McAllister?”

“Is this your house? I didn’t mean to intrude, I was looking for the residence of Meredith McAllister…Wait- how do you know my name?” It seemed to take a moment for the realization to dawn, and she was confident she had the right place now.

“This was her house. It is yours now. Welcome to Stonewall Sanctum.” He spoke with an Irish accent that made her toes curl and her heart hammer painfully.

If not for the nervous flutter of her pulse, she might have found the man attractive. As it was, she was still trying to figure out what it was she was doing here.

Anne carefully raised her chin, and squared her shoulders. “Why is it called the Sanctum,” she demanded.

“There is the take charge McAllister we all know and love, peeking through the blood lines,” commented one of the other men, still sitting at the café style table. The third raised his mug and took a sip, then smiled with a nod and placed it gently back on the table.

“This is Stonewall Sanctum, a sanctuary for Other Kin. As the only remaining heir, you are its new mistress. Congratulations. “

Anne raised one eyebrow skeptically, and crossed her arms. “And what pray tell is an Other Kin?”

“You are a member of the Tuatha De’Dannan- a highly recognized member of the Fay race.”

“Me?”

-cssndrmks ©

I write!

So I've been told calling myself an aspiring author, is about as useful as saying I aspire to pick a piece of trash up off the floor. You either are, or you aren't. You write, or you don't. You're a writer, or you are not. I Write. Therefore, I am a writer. Unpublished, however. I'm going to be posting a few pieces I've written, all of which can be found on my writing. com portfolio, under copyright. Keep in mind, that I am human, and therefore not perfect so neither is my writing. Editor I am not. If you have any suggestions, or comments please feel free to post them, or email me at- cssndrmks@gmail.com- Thanks.