Tag Archives: mother

Once Upon a Midnight Moon

Hi folks!  Since this is Free for All day, I decided to upload a story I created for Halloween last year for a blog I participate in.  I hope you enjoy it!

Maya Delgado Santiago rubbed bleary eyes and sat back from a laptop on her cluttered desk. A thesis paper hung in computer monitor purgatory waiting to become hard copy. She saved her latest entry to it and shut the system down.

A chill wind blew from the ocean, sauntered through the picture window of her bedroom. It was cold and damp forcing her to skim her hands up and down mocha colored skin prickled by the breeze. She stood to close the sliding glass pane, but the briny scent of the water and the distant crash of the surf made her hesitate. She loved that smell, the sounds of the sea. Within a moment, it lulled her active thoughts, led her to the surreal.

The dream started once again. Filled with the promise of distant shores, her mind wandered. In the solitude of her room, she stepped away from her comfortable world and into that other place, that other time. A vague recollection of a life beckoned to her. If she attempted deliberate recall, it would dart away and close a door in her memory. When she allowed it free rein, then she could gather herself, attempt to make sense of these events when they came upon her. If only she could remember enough to provide detail to her journal, something she started years ago when the dream first began. Writing helped her understand and work through a problem, but there was still no solution in sight for this, whatever it was happening to her.

A spirit sighed. Where are you?

Maya dared not move, lest she lose the fragile grip she had on her psyche when in this state. It was a voice she recognized but couldn’t place in her current memory. A frustrating thought of something left undone would follow. She prepared for it, determined a calm, rational approach could help her where former emotional reactions could not.

You are missed, Daughter of the Moon.

There was such sorrow in the lament. Her heart lurched in sympathetic ache, as if it was breaking. This reaction made no sense in the context of her life. She was happy and healthy, came from a good family. Her father and mother were wonderful, giving her everything, she could possibly want, loving her without reserve.

Accepted to the university of her choice, Maya set about pursuing her psychology degree. While she had no siblings, Maya had two best friends, both young women she grew up with, both of whom were attending the same college along with Maya. They shared a three bedroom apartment overlooking the coast and fairly close to campus. They couldn’t believe their luck when they found the place, even the rent was reasonable, the neighborhood decent. When shown the bedroom with the sea view, neither Deidre nor Nina desired the space because of its western location.

“It may be wonderful now,” Deidre stated when Maya admired it. “Just wait until summer, though.”

Nina agreed.

“I don’t care,” Maya replied. “It’s perfect for me.”

Maya could feel a desire building within her. She wanted to run, to feel the wind in her hair, the water chasing her as she teased the waves to follow her along the shore. It was so cold, but that did not dampen her desire. A thought stopped her, halted her reverie.

Why do I feel so alone?

A lilting soprano, comforting, sure and strong, responded. One does not run without the others.

Maya’s knees gave way and she dropped to the floor. Never before had she heard that voice. It filled her, surrounded her, lifted her to a place where moonlight expanded throughout her mind. She lay down as the dream moved forward, taking her to a new space, a new experience. She must remember. She pleaded with the unseen woman to allow her to remember.

A soft hand reached to her, the arm of which ascended into a lush cloak. Maya could not see a face hidden deep within the wrap’s hood. The voice held such promise of beauty, so much love. Silken fingers of alabaster stroked her brow.

Shh, my daughter, your time comes. For now, know that we miss you and welcome your return with open arms.

Maya could not contain the welling of energy racing through her body from the woman’s touch. The skin shined silver in the moonlight, but the power of the caress radiated the sun. Unable to bear it any longer, Maya fainted.


“Maya, Maya!” A gentle shaking of her right shoulder roused Maya to consciousness. Deidre was staring at her, still shaking her while Nina stood overhead in silence, a look of concern etched on her face.

“Are you okay? I heard you drop something. I knocked to see if you were all right. When you didn’t respond I got scared and opened your door. Good thing I did.” Deidre stated. She helped Maya stand while Nina grabbed an afghan from the bed to wrap around Maya’s shoulders.

Maya regained her senses. The other life, the whispers, the unidentified woman were gone. The dreams were always vivid but never before did they occur in her waking state. She thought for a moment. Had she been awake? Maya looked to her computer. It was off and folded closed. She noted her comforter, blanket and sheets turned down, but her pillow carried no impression from her head. An unnerving chill flowed through her. She held back tears threatening to spill. Was she losing her mind or was she just hallucinating because she’d been pushing herself so hard? Either way as a student pursuing a Masters in Psychology, seeing things and hearing voices did not bode well for a career in her chosen field of study.

Think, Maya, think! The last thing she remembered was the overwhelming desire to run. It was a frustrating position to be in. She knew she had, once again, a strange almost otherworldly experience, but couldn’t remember exactly what happened afterward. As usual, the bits of her dream formed a puzzle of sorts, but it was fragmentary, pieces were missing. Should she tell her two best friends about the voices she heard, the dreams she had since she was a girl? How could she do that though, when she couldn’t recall what was said to her or the fleeting images that escaped her? Her psychology trained mind decided against it. That’s all she needed was for her friends to think she was nuts. In this day and age, any sign of mental illness on a university campus was taken very seriously. Maya was in her senior year of her Bachelor’s degree and had applied to the Master’s program. She wasn’t about to ruin her chances for her long sought after goal. She’d figure out what was happening to her one way or another.

“Yeah, no kidding,” Maya concurred. “I’m sorry, I must have fallen asleep at my desk and fell off my chair. I’m such a nerd.” She laughed and both of her roommates chuckled.

Nina shook her blond head. “I know you’re working hard on your thesis and semester testing is coming up, but you still gotta sleep, My!”

My was the nickname Nina graced her with when they were nine years old. My, My Maya was a cheer the girls use to shout whenever Maya got into trouble. My, my Maya, lookin’ for a fight, My, My, Maya, always thinks she’s right, if you dare to mess with her, she will take you on, My, My Maya will chase you ’til the dawn. A goofy little chant that somehow made her reputation precede her. It caused the neighborhood bullies to leave her and anyone she befriended alone because Maya tended to be everyone’s knight in shining armor. If she wasn’t defending the downtrodden, she was the neighborhood counselor. Everyone, including some adults would come to her with their problems. Somehow Maya always seemed to have the answer.

Maya walked toward her bed and sat down on the comfortable mattress. The girls followed. “You’re right, I should, huh?”

Nina stepped to Maya’s window and closed the sliding glass panel. “It’s cold in here.” She stopped and stared out of the glass, squinting at something outside. “Halloween’s starting early.”

“What?” Deidre and Maya asked in unison.

“What other time of the year can you wear a cloak in California and get away with it?”

“What are you talking about?” Maya responded and joined Nina, Deidre following.

An irrational bout of fear ran through Maya as her gaze followed Nina’s line of sight. Maya’s bedroom window overlooked an open courtyard. At the end of well tended foliage and lawn surrounding the front of the apartment complex, a sidewalk extended to street parking then two vehicular travel lanes, one for each traffic direction. Across the street, more lawn reached to a boardwalk lining a sandy beach. The loose sand stretched several dozen yards to the west. Beyond that border, the Pacific Ocean lay in the distance. When the weather was sunny and clear, Maya loved to watch the shining waves spilling their contents onto the dun colored sands.

Maya saw a figure in a dark cloak, the hood drawn, the face hidden because a street lamp backlit the person, offering only a silhouette. It was obvious to her the individual was looking up at the three girls now crowded around the window. A memory butted its way into her consciousness. Daughter of the Moon, She said. Maya was struck with the strong urge to leave and go to Her. Her? There’s no way to tell from here. Yet, somehow, Maya knew it was true.

Nina turned to her roommates. “See what I mean?” They nodded in confirmation. When the girls looked back to the figure, it was gone.

Deidre shrugged. “Probably a homeless person who sleeps in one of the beach bathrooms at night. It’s really sad.” Maya smiled at Deidre’s sympathetic nature. That’s why her friend was studying to become a social worker. Maya disagreed with Deidre’s assessment, but kept her opinions to herself.

A minute later, Deidre yawned and Nina rubbed at her eyes. It was late and the trio commiserated with each other on their sleep deprivation. Both girls said their goodnights and left the room only after assured by Maya she was fine. Alone in her room, Maya prepared for bed. Before she lay down, she dared return to the window. Nothing. She sighed then moved to her mattress and pulled the bed coverings up. Wiggling into the downy softness, Maya closed her eyes and wished to any guardian spirit watching over her she could find an answer to what was happening. She was becoming more and more concerned over this matter. Maya closed her eyes, exhaustion taking her rapidly down into the REM state. A dream began. In it her abuela called to her and she ran to the diminutive, pudgy woman whom Maya adored. Her grandmother’s arms gathered the girl in and held her so tight. Maya inhaled. Her grandmother always smelled of lavendar soap and baking flour. Maya started to sob.

“Mija, why are you crying?”

“I’m scared, Grandma. It’s getting worse. I’m hearing the voices when I’m awake now. Am I crazy?”

“No, Gordita, you are not.”

Maya smiled. Her abuela always called her little fat girl because when Maya was very young she was short and chubby, just like her grandma. Even when Maya’s height finally caught up with her weight and she had become a curvy young woman with a healthy, athletic figure, abuela still called her by that name. Maya allowed it because it was said with love.

“What’s happening to me?” Maya sniffled and took the handkerchief her grandmother offered her. She was surprised to find laughter in her abuela’s dark, almond shaped eyes.

“The truth, Gordita. It is time to know of your birthright for She is calling to you.”

Maya didn’t know how to respond. A chill of foreboding mixed with an odd feeling of excitement warred within and she began to shiver, unsure of which sensation was winning. “M-my what?”

Abuela laughed merrily. “It is time to find out who you really are, Daughter of the Moon.”

Maya pulled away with sudden surprise and watched in disbelief as her abuela transformed.


Maya was hypnotized. Where her grandmother stood, a delicate, white coated doe now existed. An ethereal glow emanated from the hind. Light, almost blue-white in luminosity, ebbed and flowed around her. There were no words forming in Maya’s mind at the beauty of the creature. She could feel her spirit straining to burst free from her body. An overwhelming wave of love and empathy surrounded her.

“Time to run, Daughter. The Others are waiting.”

“I-I don’t know how…” Maya gestured to the deer, indicating her inability to transform. A sorrow claimed her, she was frustrated at her lack of understanding.

“Yes, you do. Remember?”

Maya could swear a smile appeared on the animal’s slender muzzle.

“I don’t…” Maya’s voice trailed away. She could feel an internal welling of energy building within. It engulfed her feet and moved its way up through her muscled calves, thighs and hips as it spiraled its way to her center. Maya’s solar plexus convulsed and she was forced down on her hands and knees. She gasped at the strength of the experience. There was no pain, only a great building of electricity so intense she couldn’t draw breath. There was pleasure, but the sensation came from her soul shouting its triumph as its efforts to escape were succeeding. In a final dynamic burst of power, Maya changed. There was a moment of understanding. Who she was and what she became collided in a symphony of harmonic awareness. Sight, sound, scent expanded and coalesced into sharp clarity. Maya knew everything. The remaining question was why. Why her?

“Follow, Daughter. You will soon learn all you need to know. Then, you will have a choice to make.” With that, the hind leaped across the lawn of Maya’s apartment complex. She dashed after her. The pair hit the beach in tandem at a full gallop. Maya shrieked with euphoria. One final push and her soul burst forth. In full stride, she ran and ran, doing what her heart had desired all along. She bounded through the cold waves crashing on the shore, the shock of the water spurring her forward as her companion urged her to greater speed, smiling at her enthusiasm.

The scent of the sea claimed Maya first. Never before had she smelled so many different odors. There was a variety of fauna. She laughed at the abundance, thrilled by their survival in such a damaged world. There was flora, earthbound and ocean living, in various stages of growth and decay. It was perfume to her, an intoxicating confirmation life thrived no matter what. Large ears didn’t miss a single sound. Vehicles, human lovemaking, babies fussing, dogs barking, it was endless.

Maya realized the scenery was changing. They were no longer on the shoreline of California. They were moving into the rolling desert hills of her home state. They had been running for hours. She was surprised at her stamina, not tired in the least. Different scents came to her and she inhaled. The air was dry, as other species of plants and animals were captured by her extraordinary sense of smell. They moved farther and deeper into hills that became greater, larger, higher. Her curiosity was piqued. They were now in the mountains for sure. Pine trees and snow resonated clean and crisp within her nostrils. She noted she wasn’t cold. Her thick pelt protected her well. Her guide led her through an abundant forest. They jumped and moved in synchronicity, Maya enraptured by her grandmother’s grace. In time, they slowed to a walk, stopped as they entered a clearing. Once again, she was startled by what she viewed. Even though Maya knew she was still in California, the scene before her looked as though she were in some ancient Celtic forest.

Eight other white hinds stood in the center of the opening in the dense woods. Each deer stood next to a stone monolith, each of which encircled a large shining rounded crystal, shaped like a pomegranate, two feet high. Within its center were protrusions of crystal looking like seeds. One stone monolith remained unoccupied. Maya stood in front of it. The energy pulsing from it and the crystal was palpable.

“You may change, Daughters.” This was the first time her grandmother spoke during their strange, exhilarating journey. Bright, intense light blasted the dell. Within moments, Maya was her human self and looking at eight other women. Some were older than she, some were younger, barely out of their teens. Instinct told her they were not American but from different parts of the world. One looked Middle Eastern, another African. A lovely red haired woman had a distinctly Irish appeal while an Asian woman with short black hair stood in silent contemplation. It was as if they were plucked from the tree of the world to represent their homelands. It was very clear all were here for a purpose. She turned to her abuela and realized she was no longer her mother’s mother, but the cloaked woman of her earlier encounters that evening.

The figure pulled back her hood. Maya drew in a sharp breath. Beautiful was a poor description of her. Long, golden blonde hair flowed down the woman’s back to her hips. Large eyes, a rich, sparkling brown framed by thick, dark lashes gleamed from a fair skinned face. Tall and lithe, dressed in clothing Maya could imagine would only be found in Arthurian legend, the lady moved easily to each woman within the circle, embraced every one in tender care. When she came upon Maya, she reached out and drew her in, holding, comforting her. Memories of her mother and grandmother’s love flooded through her. Maya knew she was home and finally comprehended the being before her.

The Goddess stepped back to the crystal in the center of the ring. “It is time, Daughters of the Moon. Our Earth Mother needs you. She can no longer endure the pain inflicted upon her by an uncaring humanity bent on its self-destruction. Each of you has been called as you are in or will be in distinct positions of power and influence to do your part to save Her. However, my Children, this will not be forced on you, as you do have choice.” She leaned down and removed nine small crystals from the interior of its parent.

The Lady moved toward every woman and presented her with a glowing gem. When she reached Maya, she extended her palm. Maya noted the clear stone beaming golden light and hesitated. Her field of study was psychology. She wanted to work in a clinic setting with adults afflicted with multiple personality disorder, but somehow she knew change would come, if she agreed.

“Daughter, your purpose is noble and true. I would ask you to consider reorienting your field of study to work children. Help them before their path twists beyond their ability to make wise decisions. Will you consider this?”

“I will.” Maya’s response was immediate. She realized though she had time to consider the request because each of the women in the circle was asked to consider a new path, to make a choice between what they knew and the potential of the unknown. All understood they must come to the decision on their own. To Maya their faces revealed their deepest thoughts as each considered the importance of this meeting tonight.

Raising her hands, the Goddess’s gaze looked to the heavens and she smiled. “Blessed be,” She whispered. A light converged in the dark sky. Milky and golden, a full moon moved over the glen. In a sudden burst of energy it cast its glow down on the group. The crystalline stone at the center of the ring caught the luminescence and refracted it, sending rainbow colors outward, catching Goddess and all.

“Blessed be,” all of the women responded in unison, arms uplifted. The intensity increased and the energy expanded.

“It is time to return to your lives, Daughters of the Moon.”

The hinds reappeared, Maya among them. To her delight, they darted and ran into the forest, stretching long slender legs, laughing and singing in their freedom, in the magic of the night. Maya felt herself returning, dashing back towards the desert, to her favorite place, the ocean, where once again she teased the waves. Stepping to the courtyard of her apartment building, Maya raised her delicate head. Her world spun and an irresistible urge to sleep pulled at her mind.


Maya woke with a start as her alarm clock blared. She slapped at the sentinel to shut it off and lay back in her bed. A feeling of disorientation filled her. I was dreaming again. Saddened by the fact she was able to remember the dream with perfect recall, but thinking it was only a dream, she rolled over, stared at the morning sky, wishing it had been real. As she did so, a sharp poking in her hip forced her to sit up. “Ouch,” she exclaimed.

As she pulled her blankets back, Maya gasped. A crystal approximately one inch long and wide, twinkled in the sunlight. It was mounted in silver filigree on a long silver chain, its sharp end standing at attention.

You are loved, Daughter of the Moon, she heard the Goddess whisper.

Maya started to cry, her heart welling with joy. It was real! In slow motion, she grasped the jewel, held it to her chest. It was warm and comforting and in its presence, her night with the Goddess returned in full force. Maya opened her eyes and put the necklace on.


Trick-or-treaters bombarded Maya’s apartment in a frenzy. The girls couldn’t believe how many children came to their door. The costumes were adorable and the kids’ enthusiasm for the night unending. Deidre and Nina took a moment in the lull to run to the local convenience store a block away. They were picking up more treats for the crowds as Maya continued to dole out their remaining candy.

When the last batch of children trickled down, Maya sat in tired happiness on her sofa. A few minutes later a timid knock caused her to stand and grab her half empty bowl of sweets. When she opened the door, a little girl with long, golden hair and chocolate eyes dressed as a princess stood before her, crying. “I’m lost. I don’t know where my Daddy is.”

Maya’s heart lurched. “Oh no, it’s okay, querida. Let me put on my shoes and I’ll help you find him, all right?”

The little girl snuffled and nodded her head, rubbing her tears on her sleeve. Maya returned within seconds and offered her hand to the child. “What’s your name?”

“Guinevere.” The child hiccupped.

“Wow, that’s pretty.”

“My daddy named me after my grandma.” She responded still sniffling while attempting to suck her thumb. The little girl told her all about her father, what he looked like and where she last saw him.

Maya’s whole body began to vibrate. Something was building. She was being called. They rode the elevator to the first floor of the complex then moved toward the lobby when the front double doors flew open. A frantic looking man was talking on his cell phone. She could hear him describing his child, this child. Maya breathed out a sigh of relief.

“Sir, I think I’ve found her,” she stated as she picked Guinevere up and presented her to him.

“Oh my God, Guin!” He yelled as he dropped his phone and reached for his daughter. He covered her in kisses, holding her tight, asked if she was scared, apologizing over and over. Turning to Maya, his face colored as if he were embarrassed. “She let go of my hand for only a second and got caught in a crowd of kids when the elevator doors closed. I was caught in the crowd on the elevator and couldn’t reach her!”

Maya smiled. “She’s okay. She knocked on my door and asked for help right away. She told me all about you. Guinevere is one smart little girl.”

He pulled Maya to him, hugged her and laughed. “Thank you! Thank you!”

Guinevere hugged his neck tight. The pair said goodbye to Maya once again and turned to leave the building. As she headed toward the elevator, she heard the man call the police department again to advise his daughter was found.

“Thank you, nice lady.” Guinevere smiled through her thumb, waving with remaining fingers.

Maya turned and returned the gesture. “You’re welcome. Hold on to your daddy’s hand and don’t let go from now on, alright?”

“I will,” she replied, leaning her head against her father’s.

A tear slicked Maya’s cheek. She experienced a profound relief and happiness. It was as if her own child had been rescued. As she watched the pair leave, Maya knew beyond a shadow of doubt she made her choice and she knew the Goddess smiled.


Ancient Calendar: May 24, 2010

Morgana_smallArtist Russelle Westbrook

Our May Artists of the Month

Our Celtic Ancestors (and many of present day) will be or would have been celebrating a festival for the Three Mothers–Maiden, Mother, Crone. Known to our Ancient Celts as Matres or Matronæ. The three aspects of the Goddess was very important in many cultures. She represented seasons, the phases of women and of the Goddess herself, and of the earth. For those honoring her (in the past), she promised prosperity and a full harvest.

Alchemists will be honoring and remembering Hermes Trismegistrus today. While his story might be a bit shadowy and mysterious, he was said to have written many works on Egyptian magic, alchemy, etc. Some believed he was the reincarnation of Thoth, while others later referred to him as Hermetica. Although Hermes said himself to have written 42 volumes of his great works, many believe they were destroyed in the horrible fire that burned the Library of Alexandria down. Others claim that the books are buried in the Egyptian desert somewhere. Although the originals seem to remain unfound, many versions or copies have surfaced over the years.

Greece would have had a festival for Artemis on this day in Ancient History. A true Goddess of Night, also being the daughter of Zeus and Latona.

Here’s hoping you all enjoy your Moon-day! it’s my oldest son’s birthday today, so I will be honoring him. Fourteen and dreaming of being a rock star, I think I’ll have my hands full…….. as I live out the Mother aspect of my life.

A little announcement. Yes, Ancient Calendar is the same as Pagan Holidays. I just thought this title might be a bit more accurate. We also have our own page, located Ancient Calendar.




Coming   Soon from Noble Romance Publishing Click to Purchase


I Prefer the Term “Child-Free”

I’ve never wanted children. Even when I was a little girl, I disliked other kids. Playing with dolls was only fun because I got to style their fashions and create lives for them. Its one of the same reasons I grew up to love the game SIMS – I could create fully grown people and tell them exactly how to live their lives, complete control. Playing God, one could say.  But as a kid, the part of playing with a baby doll, changing pretend diapers full of pretend urine, singing it to sleep, carrying it around – to be honest, it grossed me out. I couldn’t understand why anybody would find that an enjoyable pastime. And as I got older, the idea of having children translated exactly the same.

For some reason, it is still somewhat unacceptable for a woman to choose to live a “childfree existence.” Females who choose this way of life are sometimes thought to be cold-hearted, selfish, or ‘not in touch with the self.’  When people would ask how many kids I wanted I would say, “None, if I’m lucky.” And suddenly I was transported to 1952, met with widening eyes and confused looks followed by endless comments and questions: “Why don’t you want to be a mom?” or  “Of course you want kids,” or the inevitable and condescending “Oh, you’ll want them when you get married.” (Right, because all it takes is the right man to convince me I don’t know who I am or what I want. But that’s a whole other blog.) I got so many negative reactions about not wanting kids that for awhile, I really thought there was something wrong with me. Girls were supposed to long for children, right?  Wasn’t my womb supposed to clinch every time I saw a woman pushing a stroller? Weren’t my daydreams supposed to be of finding the perfect husband/father and spending my days raising his munchkins?

Um, no.

My days were spent in dreams of celebrity and world domination, sunning myself in Capri, climbing pyramids in Egypt. Sometimes I’d throw in a husband, or a lover, but most times comfortably and blessedly alone. There was never the patter of little feet in my thirty-room mansion in the Hollywood Hills, or my flat in London.

As I grew older and started my lifestyle of “professional witch” I came to realize that I was a mother in many other ways. My work as an energy therapist and spiritual counselor required me to hold hands, instill discipline, and kiss the boo-boo’s to make it better. My friendships are full of listening and offering advice, supporting those I love with the proper encouragement. My environmental activities put me in the role of Mother Nature, taking care of the earth and making sure (at least in my corner of the world) that it survives and thrives. I saw that despite the fact it isn’t meant for me to have children, everything about me is mothering. A caretaker, a rock to be leaned on – simply because I am a woman, and that is what women do in every aspect of their lives, regardless of whether they are dealing with their own children or the world’s.

Some women are meant to mother children, which is the most important and difficult job on the planet. Others are meant to mother the world, which can be just as trying and just as rewarding. But the fact is we are all parents, in one way or another. And whatever we decide to give life to, to love, nourish, and provide for, is a valid personal choice.

The Time of the Crone

I have always been fascinated with the changing seasons and this time of year is my favorite. Fall leads into winter, bringing longer days of darkness. I do not know why, but this is the most inspiring time for me to write.

Fall and winter belong to the Crone, the darker aspect of the Goddess. There are three faces to the Goddess, mirroring the three phases of the moon. There is the Maiden (new moon), Mother (full moon) and Crone (old moon). The Crone has always been my favorite and she comes in many different disguises of Hecate, Badb, Cerridwen, Atropos and The Cailleach. She has many other names as well in different cultures, but she is always the one who has the power of prophecy, she is wise, she is the bringer of death, of change and of cleansing. She is associated with the winter months because those are the months when the earth rests and readies for spring. She is feared by most, but respected by all. The raven, crow and wolf are her animal guises.

Though she is a goddess of death, she is necessary to the fabric of life. Without death, we can have no life.

The Cailleach (veiled one) is the center of my trilogy titled Dark Goddess. I chose her because she is known in Ireland and Scotland, which corresponded with the settings of my story. She is one of the oldest goddesses who personifies the cutting winds and harshness of the northern winter. She is usually an old hag, but there are Irish myths that show her as a beautiful young maiden. In legends, she appears to the hero as a hideous old woman to test his heart for kingship. The one who kisses the old hag is rewarded—she changes into a beautiful maiden and bestows sovereignty on him.

There are many stories about her, but the one I focused on is the legend of The Cailleach and Brigit. The Cailleach ruled in the winter months and Brigit ruled in the summer months. The part that interested me about this legend is that they may have been two different faces of the same goddess. I decided to write a story using that theory and what may have caused that to happen.

In my trilogy, the Cailleach’s destiny is entwined with that of an Irish clan and goes back to the battle between the Milesians and the Tuatha de Danaan of ancient Ireland. She makes an appearance in the first two books, but the third book of the trilogy (Winter’s Requiem) belongs to the Cailleach. It has just been contracted with Awe-Struck and should be out sometime in 2010.


‘Timeless tales of romance, conflict & magic’





My book page at Awe-Struck