I'm so happy to say my story 'Dancing With Fate' , in the 'Song Of The Muses' anthology is released today. I am thrilled to be involved in this, alongside eight fantastic and gifted authors.
Here is a short blurb and extract:
Dancing With Fate
(91 pages) (Spicy)
Terpsichore's task, to restore a love of dancing to the folk of Wales, seems simple. However, all is not as it seems. Danger follows. Legends are threatened. She had not meant to lose her heart or to have to save the man she loves by dancing with Fate.
She was the loveliest woman Myrddin had ever seen. Spellbound, he watched her step from the falls. He should have turned away but he found it impossible not to watch her as she dried herself. When she started to dance, he was captivated by her grace and the eloquence of her movements. She seemed unconcerned about her nakedness. Not that she had anything to be ashamed of; such exquisite beauty should not be covered. Long, dark red-brown hair fell like a veil of silk to below her knees. Her skin was smooth and flawless; her breasts were firm
and high, full but not heavy, above a tiny waist.
Her rounded hips undulated sensuously in time to her singing, while her upper body remained perfectly still, apart from the expressive movements of her arms. Her legs were slim and very long and she moved on tiptoe, her small feet scarcely seeming to touch the ground. Between her fingers, she held a long piece of silky material, which she swirled around her, until it seemed almost like a living thing.
Myrddin watched, enthralled. He'd never known anyone to dance as she did. The way she swivelled her hips had him mesmerised. Her voice was soft and clear, with a haunting quality. It reminded him of the musical bells of Maes Gwyddno, the civilization that now lay drowned beneath the sea. At times of danger, if one listened hard enough, one could hear the bells ringing from beneath the waves.
Moreover, it may have been a trick of the light, but she seemed to radiate a soft glow, pure and shimmering. He shook his head in disbelief. He must be imagining it. He'd eaten nothing since dawn, this was surely a vision brought on by weakness from hunger.
Myrddin crept closer and a twig cracked underfoot. Before he could take cover, the beautiful dancer stood motionless. Her eyes, green as the depths of the ocean, looked directly into his.
If you'd like to watch a trailer, or take part in my competition to win a pendant in the shape of a waterdrop, details can be found at Terpsichore's My Space: