leprechauns — the Little People of Irish legends
macha (mack-ah) — a female goddess of war
Morrigan’s milk (Morrigan [More-ee-gan]) — was a war goddess.
Neit (Net) — a god of war
Nuada (Noo-dah) — the goddess of war
ogham stones (oh-am stones) — Stones with lines cut into them, an early form of writing
Pict (Pikt) — an ancient tribe from Britain
quern (kern) — a bowl
rath (raff) — a round fort surrounded by a wooden fence
seanachaidh (shan-ah-key) — a storyteller or poet
Sionan’s river (Sun-un’s river) — river Shannon
souterrain (soo-tur-ane) — an underground tunnel, often used to store food and drink, or as an escape route
Tir na n’Og (Teer na nogue [rhymes with “rogue”]) — a mystical land where people never got sick or grew old
tuath (chew-ah) — a county
tuatha (chew-ah) — counties
wedge tombs — tombs in which lots of stones are stacked side by side, in the shape of a wedge, then topped with large flat stones
NAMES
Aednat — Aid-nat
Aideen — Aid-een
Amargen — Am-are-gen
Banba — Bon-bah
Bec — rhymes with “deck”
Bran — rhymes with “man”
Brude — rhymes with “crude”
Cera — Kee-rah
Conn — Kon
Connla — Kon-lah
Dara — Darr-ah
Drust — Jrust (hard D sound, like in “dread” or “dry”)
Ena — Ee-nah
Erc — rhymes with “perk”
Ert — rhymes with “hurt”
Fand — Fond
Fiachna — Feek (rhymes with “speak”)-nah
Fintan — Fin-ten
Goll — rhymes with “doll”
Lorcan — Lor-ken
MacCadan — Mac-kah-den
MacGrigor — Mac-grig-or
MacRoth — MacRoff
Nectan — Neck-tan
Orna —
Or-nah Padraig —
Paw-drig — This refers to St.
Patrick. (The book is set in Ireland in the middle of the fifth century a.d., when St. Patrick was converting Ireland to Christianity.)
Ronan — Row-nen
Scota — Sco (rhymes with “low”)-tah
Struan — Strew-en
Tiernan — Teer-nan
Torin — Tore-in
The horrifying adventures continue in
BLOOD BEAST
Book 5 in THE DEMONATA series
Coming November 2007
Turn the page for a sneak peek. . . .
Damn The Sandman
MY hands are red with blood. I’m running through a forest. Naked, but I don’t care. I’m an animal, not a human. Animals don’t need clothes.
I can taste blood too. Must have fed recently. Can’t remember if it was a wild creature or a person. Not bothered much either way. Still hungry — that’s all that matters. Need to find something new to chew down on. And soon.
I leap over a fallen log. As I land, my bare feet hit twigs. They snap and my feet sink into a pool of mud. I collapse, howling. The twigs bite into me. I catch a glimpse of fiery red eyes, peering up out of the mud. They aren’t twigs — they’re teeth! I lash out with my feet, screaming wordlessly....
. . . and mud and pieces of bark fly everywhere. I stare at the mess suspiciously, my heart rate returning to normal. I was wrong. I haven’t fallen victim to a monstrous baby with mouths in the palms of its hands and balls of fire where its eyes should be. It’s just a muddy hole, covered with the remains of branches and leaves.
Scowling, I rise and wipe my feet clean on clumps of nearby grass. As I’m using my nails to pick off some splinters, a voice calls, “Grubbs ...”
The name doesn’t register immediately. Then I remember — that’s my name. Or it used to be, once upon a time. I glance up warily, sniffing the air, but all I can smell is blood.
“Grubitsch . . .” the voice murmurs, and I growl angrily. I hated my real name. Grubbs isn’t great, but it’s better than Grubitsch. Nobody ever called me that except Mom and my sister, Gret.
“You can’t find me,” the voice teases.
I roar into the darkness of the forest, then lurch at the bushes, where I think the voice is coming from. I tear through them, but there’s nothing on the other side.
“Wrong,” the voice laughs, coming from somewhere behind me.
I whirl and squint, but I can’t see anyone.
“Over here,” the voice whispers. This time it’s coming from my right.
Still squinting, I edge closer towards the source of the voice. This feels wrong, like it’s a trap. But I can’t back away from it. I’m drawn on by curiosity, but also something else. It’s a girl’s voice, and I think I know who it is.
Movement to my left, just as I’m about to round a tree. Eight long, pale arms wave in the light of the moon. Dozens of tiny snakes hiss and slither. I cry out with fear and slam into the tree, shielding my eyes from the horror. Seconds pass but nobody attacks. Lowering my arms, I realize the arms were just branches of a couple of neighboring trees. The snakes were vines, blowing in the wind.
I feel sick but I force a weak chuckle, then slide around the tree, in search of the person who called to me.
I’m at the edge of a pond. I frown at it. I know this forest, and there should be no pond here. But there it lies regardless, the full moon reflected in its still surface. I’m thirsty. The blood has dried on my tongue, leaving a nasty copper-like taste. I crouch to drink from the pond, going down on all fours and lowering my head to the water like a wolf.
I see my face in the mirror-like water before I drink. Blood everywhere, caked into my flesh and hair. My eyes widen and fill with fear. Because I can see the shadow of somebody behind me.
I start to turn but it’s too late. The girl pushes my head down hard and I go under. Water fills my mouth and I gag. I try to fight, but the girl is strong. She holds me down and my lungs fill. The coppery taste is still there and I realize, as I blink with horrified fascination, that the pond is actually a pool of blood.
As my body goes limp, the girl pulls me up by my hair and laughs shrilly as I draw a hasty, terrified breath. “You always were a useless coward, Grubitsch,” she sneers.
“Gret?” I moan, staring up at the mocking smile of my sister. “I thought you were dead.”
“No,” she croaks, eyes narrowing and snout lengthening. “You are.”
I weep as her face transforms into that of a mutant wolf. I want to run or hit her but I can only sit and stare. Then, as the transformation ends, she opens her mouth wide and howls. Her head shoots forward. Her fangs fasten around my throat. She bites.
The Demonata exist in a multi-world universe of their own. Evil, murderous creatures, who revel in torment and slaughter. They try to cross over into our world all the time.