Tuesday, October 20, 2015

Mortal Magick by Patty Taylor

I wish to take this opportunity to thank my host, Roxanne, for having me here today as her guest.  

Coming from a family of storytellers, I feel blessed in having both Irish and Scottish heritage, from my Mum, (and American Indian heritage from my Daddy’s side of the family).  When growing up, I was fortunate to hear tales of the charming wee people, the mischievous leprechauns, the enchanting fairies of Ireland, and the magical creatures and brownies of Scotland, including the Brown Man of the Muirs, dragons, selkies, witches, and much more.  Captivated by these magnificent realms of magick, I couldn’t resist centering at least one of my stories in the enchanting Isle of Skye.  I’ve been fortunate to visit my family homes in both Northern Ireland and Scotland. I loved visiting the gorgeous Giant’s Causeway after hearing about the legend of the famous giant, Finn MacCool.

I’m always asked to share a wee bit about the true love story of my beloved mother, Evelyn, who was born and raised in Northern Ireland and served in the British Army during WWII where set met my Daddy, a US Sergeant.  Her love, strength, and courage have always inspired me to pursue my dreams.

Here are a few photos I took while visiting the lovely Glens of Antrim, NI  and Scotland.

I’m delighted to be able to share with everyone, that right before I left to visit my family in Northern Ireland, I received my contract for Sea Wolf Magick, book 2 of my new Highlander Magick Series.   

Here’s my tagline for a sneak peak at this story:

  "When a seafaring Highlander Lycan, rescues a cursed witch from the clutches of evil, a magical voyage fueled by fire and ice ignites more than just passion across the high seas."

Here’s an excerpt from Sea Wolf Magick:

           A scroll dropped to the floor.
Gathering the sides of her long tartan skirt, Beth knelt in front of the chest, untied the smooth satin ribbon, and unrolled the parchment. Her legs tucked beneath her, she admired the meticulous details of the artwork. She leaned over, sprawling the paper on the floor in front of her, and ran her fingers across the sketch. A spark of light caught her attention. The Highlander’s eyes suddenly flashed from a warm chocolate brown to a vivid golden yellow before changing back to normal.
It can’t be. She blinked. Those melting chocolate eyes drew her like a magnet. Having learned by now that the Isle of Skye was definitely a place of magick and enchantment, where most everything could be possible, she concluded her vivid imagination must be running wild.
She reached inside her hope chest and retrieved two rose quartz crystals to use as paperweights. Her fingers traced the outlines of the rugged Highlander’s shoulders down to the meticulous dragon tattoos on his muscular chest. Beth took notice of the way his burly fingers gripped the wooden wheel.
Her eyes locked with his. A strong connection raced through her veins like electric shocks, leaving her arms and legs tingling. Warmth spread between her inner thighs, generating a craving like none other before. Her upper body flushed with heat, her forehead filled with beads of sweat.

Thank you again, Roxanne, for having me as your guest today!   

I hope many of your followers will drop by and visit my website/blog and follow me on Facebook as I get ready to reveal more surprises coming up towards the end of the month.

Mortal Magick
Highlander Magick Series
Book One
Patty Taylor

Genre: Paranormal/Fantasy/
Time Travel Romance

Publisher: Soul Mate Publishing
Date of Publication:   June 8, 2015

ISBN: 978-1-61935-834-8

Number of pages:176 pages
Word Count: 57K

Cover Artist: Syneca Featherstone

Book Description:

When an immortal Highlander falls in love with a human witch, “Mortal Magick” soon casts a spell of its own.    

Doomed for eternity to wander nights as half man and half creature, rugged Highlander, Duncan McCord, discovers his curse is the least of his problems when he sets out for a cure and rescues the beauty determined to help tame his beast.
When a reluctant witch, Keara, gets whisked back to 18th century mystical Isle of Skye to learn lessons in magic, she faces the true test of love when she meets the man beyond her wildest dreams burdened with dark secrets from his past. 

Forced together to journey through an enchanted country filled with mythical creatures and magical lore, will they survive in a world where evil sorcery reigns, or will a shocking twist of fate tear them centuries apart?

Available at Amazon


Trotternish ∙ Isle of Skye, Scotland ∙ October 7, 1797

Duncan McCord wanted a woman. His entire body and soul hungered for a special lass’ touch. The one destined for his love, whom he would call kindred spirit. His stomach tightened, a pain ripping through him like the slice of a broadsword. This canna happen. Not now, not ever. Reality hastily slapped him back to his senses. He vowed never to be foolish enough to let himself fall into another vixen’s treacherous traps.
Dark, threatening clouds rolled over Scotland’s glorious mountain peaks in the distance. The muscles in his legs rippled, gripping both sides of his mount. His stallion, Goliath, snorted and stopped short in his tracks. His enormous hooves stomped the hard ground.
“Aye, ‘tis all right, me friend. Just a bad storm startin’ to brew. What a grand spot to rest for the night.” Duncan bent down and stroked the neck of the black steed then swung his leg over and jumped to the ground, beginning to remove both gear and saddle.
Goliath neighed, his breath white in the cold air.
A gust of frigid air swept around Duncan’s feet, spiraling its way beneath his woolen plaid. Leaves rustled from the biting breeze as they whispered danger through the towering pines.
Goliath snorted again and reared his mighty head.
The sweet scent of honeysuckle filled Duncan’s flaring nostrils and jabbed his memory. The pleasing fragrance was soon replaced with the putrid smell of dead worms and rotten leaves. Clenching his fists, his knuckles cracked. Short hairs bristled on the back of his neck. Wicked laughter echoed through the Highland hills.
A woman’s teasing, silky voice sparked his memory, whispering poison in his ears.
“Your journey is for naught, my beloved Duncan. I see you’re still stubborn as always. Your horse seems to have more common sense than you.”
The snicker became a cackle. Invisible fingers like fuzzy feathers tickled his whiskers, making his face twitch.
“I see ye still didna have the guts to face me, ye bloody she-devil. Afraid ye might finally get what ye rightfully deserve?” Stone-faced, he shouted into empty space. “I promise, witch. Ye won’t be laughin’ for verra much longer.”
“Careful, my spirited lover. You don’t want to wake the inner beast before sunset.

            “Duncan lunged from the damp forest floor. His splayed hooves clip-clopped on top of a boulder. His nostrils flared from the irresistible lingering lavender scent. He cocked his head to the side, his keen hearing caught her every breath as each step she took brought her dangerously closer. “Aye, the damn fool-headed woman! She’s done wandered off again.”
             He snarled at a shooting star plummeting to the ground. Like a bubbling cauldron of fire, it spit an outburst of flames across the moonlit sky. “Aye, the bonny wee lass is headed straight for a trap.” Clenching his fists, he veered back his head and wailed.”

About the Author:

Patty was raised as a “country girl”, and fell in love with animals, books and the mystical world of magick  from a wee girl. With her mother’s heritage, born and raised in Northern Ireland, along with the discovery of her father having American Indian ancestry, Patty’s fascination for both cultures quickly led her imagination to run wild.

Her love of The Chronicles of Narnia Series, from C.S. Lewis inspired her to start creating magical realms and characters of her own.

Patty’s dream to work with white wolves didn’t become a reality,  but she considers herself blessed to have been “owned and loved” by a pack of beloved Samoyeds for over 20 years.

In her spare time, Patty can be found sitting beside one of her favorite spinning wheels, blending exotic fibers while her imagination weaves more stories.  While she cherishes fond memories of both her parents, thanks to her beloved Irish Mom, Patty’s belief in the little people and fairies still carries on.