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Deirdre McColum is a student studying the ancient tribes of Ireland. Dr. Walter Daniels has offered her a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to travel back in time to study those ancient people.
After a violent and frightening trip careening through space and time, Deirdre finds herself separated from her friends and a captive of Niall, leader of the Eman Macha tribe.
A confusion of images assaulted my eyes, or rather my senses, being my eyes were rather firmly shut at that moment. Although I did not see these images through my eyes, they were clearly there and as real to me as anything I had ever seen through open eyes. Real, and yet not real, I seemed to pass right through them, or they through me. I could not quite make out exactly what it was I was seeing, touching, feeling. One thing was clear; the feelings, the emotions, which flooded my mind along with those visions; violence, anger, terror, surrounded and assaulted me. Blood red gore, bodies maimed through violence. Phantom figures hacked and slashed at other figures just as unreal. Ephemeral images of marauding hordes wreaked havoc upon each other.
And the sounds... sounds assaulted my senses as well. The sounds these scenes brought with them raged around me, touching me, invading me. They pounded through my veins, resounding in my ears, as though the sounds had become... had been made solid, physically real. I felt the screams of anguish. Blood chilling cries of terror ran icy fingers along my spine; demonic, ululant wails twisted my heart and squeezed the breath from my body, and like an insidious voice within my head, urged to more violence.
Light and sound whirled around me, pushing, pulling at me. A kaleidoscope of fractured images, breaking apart, swirling within its own specific pattern of chaos, only to come together again to form other, yet more bizarre images.
Panic began to rise in my breast, I could not breathe; perhaps I would suffocate. The air was surely being squeezed from my lungs and I would arrive at my final destination a lifeless husk.
My sense of time had long ago left me. How long had I been trapped here in this demonic space? Would I be trapped forever here in this place somewhere between what was and what will be, forever a victim to the furious, yet transient images, which inhabited this forbidden space? Surely, the mind, the body, could not withstand this onslaught for long. Would I be lost, fly apart and scatter throughout the universe?
Just as I thought I would succumb to the hysteria that blinded my mind and dragged at my sanity, I felt the earth, firm and solid beneath my feet. I wanted to weep; I would weep! I could scarcely believe my eyes. There it was, the ground, fixed and real, though still not as solid as my feet would have sworn. I stomped my foot against the soil beneath it. Yes! Real!
An image of one of those ancient explorers flitted through my conscious. Columbusâ€™ party discovering the Americas, it might have been, kneeling down to embrace the earth, thankful for deliverance from what must have seemed an eternity at sea. I recognized the need to welcome my return to solid earth. I keenly felt the desire to fall to the ground and give thanks for my own deliverance from what I can only describe as the hell from which I had just emerged. I did not kneel, as those others had, though my knees did wobble and threaten to spill me to the ground. I did not tumble to the earth. Matters more pressing interrupted.
Iâ€™ve been a storyteller all my life, beginning at age seven when my little brother decided he didnâ€™t like the way his bedtime stories always ended the same way. So I began to create new endings for the old stories. Before long we had abandoned the old favorites altogether and I was creating new stories especially for him.
As a teen I wrote short stories, but they were just for me; it never occurred to me that anyone else might be interested in reading them.
After a while, work and life got in the way, and it wasnâ€™t until I reached my forties that I started to write again.
"â€¦Debut author, Katherine McGibbons has given us a gift with BELTAINE FIRE. Her heroine may have studied ancient Ireland in college, but she takes an actual ringside seat at Dun Tirlough in 678 AD. She meets the inhabitants personally and you get to come along.
Without revealing too much of the story, I simply want to encourage you to pick up Beltaine Fire and read it for yourself. Ms. McGibbons has a wonderfully descriptive writing style that lets you view the Irish countryside as though you were there on the very spot. I swear I could smell the wild flowers and feel the fresh air on my face. The story is exciting and draws you in from the beginning, and it only gets better with each page you turn. So treat yourself to a great fantasy read. When you finish, Iâ€™ll bet youâ€™ll join me in looking for future releases by this great new author.â€ -- Brett Scott, Crystal Review
Book Publisher: Wings e Press
No. of Pages: 214
Paper Weight (lb): 9.0
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