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    Prince of the Mist
    Prince of the Mist
    Prince of the Mist
    Ebook112 pages1 hour

    Prince of the Mist

    By Penelope Marzec

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    About this ebook

    Escaping a carjacker, Tia tumbles into the Sifra—home of the fairies. She wakes to find herself wedded to a Sidhe prince. While insisting their marriage is not valid, she cannot deny the passion she finds in his arms.

    Wildon must stop Tia’s mother, a state senator, from voting for a nuclear plant that would be built above the Sifra. In marrying the senator’s daughter, he can get close enough to prevent the senator from voting. However, falling in love with Tia is not part of the plan.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherPenelope Marzec
    Release dateJun 27, 2011
    ISBN9781452482330
    Prince of the Mist
    Author

    Penelope Marzec

    EPPIE award-winning author, Penelope Marzec grew up along the Jersey shore. She started reading romances at a young age even though her mother told her they would ruin her mind, which they did and she became hopelessly hooked on happy endings. A member of the New Jersey Romance Writers and the Liberty States Writers Fiction Writers, Penelope writes for two publishers.

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      Book preview

      Prince of the Mist - Penelope Marzec

      Prince of the Mist

      by Penelope Marzec

      © Copyright Penelope Marzec 2011 All Rights Reserved

      Cover Art: Penelope Marzec

      Smashwords Edition, License Notes

      This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

      All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

      This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

      For Tommy, My Irish Grandfather

      A True Leprechaun

      Chapter One

      Tia suppressed the moan in her throat. Clutching the ache on her right side, she turned to continue running. She glanced around the level plateau but saw only the tall trees and the shadowing canopy of the forest where the light faded as the sun set over the tops of the Catskill Mountains. She needed someplace to hide but there were no large rocks. The trees, while tall, were not wide and would offer precious little camouflage. With a sickening sense of despair, she knew she couldn’t go much further since the searing pain in her side would not allow her to take a decent breath.

      She staggered along the leaf-strewn ground until a stabbing pain in her shoulder halted her in her tracks for a moment. She tried to catch her breath, but breathing caused a spasm of agony in her side. She hit the ground hard when she escaped from the carjacker and now she could not bear to move her shoulder even the slightest bit or fill her lungs with air.

      So far there had been no gunshots, but her pursuer had a weapon and at any rate he would overpower her when he caught her. She leaned against the rough bark of a tree and closed her eyes for a moment, swallowing against the tightness in her throat. She did not want to die, but she could not fight off the madman.

      When she opened her eyes again, a sudden wind stirred through the branches overhead as a thick fog began to roll toward her like a shroud, obliterating the landscape with a blanket of mist. The bizarre haze spread quickly, deadening the noise in the woods and making it eerily quiet--save for a muffled shout from the carjacker.

      She tried to move away from the icy white dampness but it followed her, swirling around faster and faster, as though it wanted to envelop her. Already numb with fear, she found her terror spiraling out of control with the cold cloud smothering her.

      A large fallen log lay a couple feet away. She was sure it had not been there a few moments before, but she headed toward it nevertheless, gritting her teeth as every movement of her side shot an excruciating ache through her.

      Suddenly, there in the dancing fog, she spotted a backpacker standing on the other side of the log. The tall blond man had such fair skin that even in the dying light, his face was plainly visible. He beckoned to her. For a moment, she hesitated. What if he was a friend of the carjacker?

      This way, he called.

      Something in his voice reassured her. Glancing behind, she saw nothing save for the white fog. Her heart thundered as she staggered toward the log. It was far more massive than she had thought at first, level with the middle of her thigh.

      Swing your legs over, the backpacker urged.

      Another shout echoed through the forest from the maniac pursuing her. That spurred her on as terror flooded through her veins. The searing pain from her side threatened to immobilize her, but she managed to swing her right leg over the trunk, then her left.

      The backpacker gave her a warm smile and held out his hand. She reached for it and at the first touch, she found an odd sensation flooding through her--a weightlessness that made her lightheaded.

      Jump! the backpacker implored.

      Looking beneath her, Tia saw only the leaf-covered floor of the forest. She pushed off the rough bark and found herself sliding right through the leaves and down into empty darkness.

      She screamed in panic. She could see nothing as she fell further and further. Was it a rabbit hole? A bear den? Tia felt the backpacker’s hand still clutching hers, but she could hear nothing except the howl of the wind. Twisting through the empty space, she saw her whole life pass before her in a brief instant. Somewhere, far off, she thought she heard lilting music. Then all sounds, even the sound of rushing air stopped as she passed out cold.

      * * * *

      At first, Tia could not open her eyes, but she did not care. Light hands soothed her--like feathery breaths of wind against her skin. Her shoulder and side no longer ached. She floated serenely in her fantasy world while soft, lilting music played somewhere above her. She dreamed she was the bride in a beautiful wedding and when she took the hand of a handsome groom, he smiled at her with such radiance that warmth flowed all the way through her, chasing away the chill of her evening in the forest.

      Then she rested peacefully, thinking of nothing, her mind emptied of fear or want until one hand pressed heavily upon her shoulder. An intense heat spread from that touch and started the return of the memories. She did not want them for they were too painful, but she could not stop the flood of information from pouring back. All the peace and tranquility left her. The nightmare of the carjacking ... the carjacker leering at her ... her desperate escape ... the sense of hopelessness ... the odd fog in the forest ... the backpacker holding out his hand. Had she survived or was she in heaven?

      Cautiously, she opened her eyes. Light poured down on her from above, illumination so blinding that she had to turn her head to the side. Squinting against the brightness, she saw him. His hand lay on her shoulder while he sat next to the bed on which she lay. The eyes gazing back at her were a soft, light green. For a moment, Tia was mesmerized by the color. He gave her an appealing smile, which she found open and friendly. Tentatively, she smiled back. This was the handsome groom she had dreamed about and the backpacker who had taken her hand in the forest. Was he an angel?

      As he leaned forward, she realized that the chair he sat in looked as if it had been carved from jade. Solid jade, the precious and expensive gemstone. The color of his eyes matched the hue of the chair.

      Do you think you’re ready for a sip of clover nectar? He held out a jewel-encrusted golden chalice.

      So ... this is heaven. It wasn’t exactly what she had expected but nobody really knew what waited in the world beyond.

      His deep chuckle disturbed her. No, this is the Sifra, or at least a small part of it.

      She noticed that his smile had a sensuous tilt to it, which did something phenomenal to her heart rate.

      Who are you?

      I’m Wildon, Sidhe chief of the Catskill environment. He slid his hand away from her and leaned back in the chair. She felt chilled without his touch.

      On his head, he wore a ring of gold that glinted in the glowing rays shining down on them. He sighed and removed the circlet, setting it on a small table that appeared to be

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