A Fine Cauldron of Fish

It’s Halloween time and the holiday comes from the Celtic New Year, Samhain, a day without time as it was a day between the old year and the new, when ghosts and other beings easily cross over between worlds. I love Halloween and I love the Celts and I love vampires. So what’s better for Samhain/Halloween than a Celtic vampire. My paranormal/comedy/romance A FINE CAULDRON OF FISH is about the vampire fey known as the leanan sidhe, dwelling in sea caves beneath the Isle of Man where they keep a red cauldron filled with the blood of their human lovers. Mortal men cannot resist them, they enchant and enslave them by their beauty alone. Here's the cover art

But first here's a Blurb:

It's summer on the Isle of Man and Andrew is looking for hot girls and good times. So when he meets the dreamy and seductive Margaid, he thinks he's hit the jackpot. There are only a couple of minor problems: Margaid lives in a cave under the sea, is invisible, and thinks that only Andrew's blood can save her from turning into a kelpie! But hey, whoever said love was perfect!?

And Now, the Excerpt:

"Magic. It's not for mortals, well it is, partly." Margaid thought to herself, I wasn't supposed to tell him that. He's not supposed to know I'm going to drain his blood into the red cauldron. I say anything. Gosh, I probably am going to end up as a kelpie. "You know what a leanan sidhe is right?"

"No." Andrew shrugged his broad shoulders. "Do I look like I know?"

After tapping her forehead, she swept her hair back behind her ear. "It's because you're from America. I don't think you have any leanan sidhe there, only on the Isle of Man."

"I never heard of them. Are they like the illuminati or skull and bones?"

"No, they're...oh, it doesn't matter. You said your mother was finding her roots here in Man."

"Yes, our family name's Quayle, I'm Andrew Quayle."

"I know of the Quayle's. They're an old family, who honor Mannan beg mac y Leir each Midsummer's Eve by carrying meadow grass to the top of Barule Mountain. There they ask the sea god to bless the boats and give them a good catch for the year. They've done so for centuries."

"Mannan's the god the isle was named after, right?"

"He was the first ruler of this isle, it's his."

"But you know that's not real. Long ago, people might have believed that, but not nowadays."

"Oh, he`s very real." And not at all happy with me.

"You don't really believe in this sea god."

"I can't help but believe. He's part of my life. You could say he's my father."

Andrew's laughter rippled through the underwater cavern. The sound was

contagious and she chuckled with him as she thought, how can I hurt him? Drink his blood? I can't do this. No, I can. I have to. Okay, I'm ready.

She gazed at him with her most seductive look. "Andrew, let's talk about something more interesting than an old god. Do you think I'm cute?" She thought, be sexy, think seductress. She pulled the scooped neckline of her chiton down to expose the top of her breasts.

After gaping at her chest for some time, his eyes were reddened and his squint more severe. "Man, I need my contacts."

What does that mean? How can I seduce someone who can't see me? "Oh Andrew, I have to have you. I want to feel your body next to mine."

He flushed red. "That sounds good."

That went well, now all I have to do is embrace him and drain his blood into the cauldron.

She stood up and began to strip off her clothes. I can do this. Andrew squinted at her breasts the whole time. He swooped her into his arms and captured her lips in his. His mouth was hot and firm. He twisted his lips against hers. A path of fire blazed through her veins. Her pulse pounded. Suddenly she was lightheaded. She never expected a kiss to be that heady. Isn't it supposed to be the other way around? I'm supposed to make him feel weak and lose his control so I can drain his blood. Torrid heat spread through her hands as they roamed the plane of his robust back.

Each time she stepped forward, he took a step back, as if she led him in a dance. Until she shoved him back against the cauldron, which stood waist-level to him. Perfect. I'm ready. She took a deep breath. He is so nice. I can't kill him. I have to. It is what I am, what I

do. But what of his mother with the two carry-ons? She won't have her son or his luggage. No, no, I must. I cannot let Mannan beg mac y Leir down again.

Just as she was going to rake her nails down his back to drain his blood into the cauldron, he released his mouth from hers and trailed kisses down her neck. Her skin tingled at the fluttery touch of his wet lips. "That feels so good."

Happy Halloween,

Cornelia Amiri