AO3 is down so here’s a little teaser from my new book…
The Selkie and Mrs. Cawley
August 1780, Rousay, Orkney
“You!”
His voice boomed across the beach. She didn’t turn. Didn’t look. She judged from his voice that she had at least a twenty pace lead, and just might make it. Mairead ran harder, feet pounding into the sand, then turned toward the cliff.
“Woman, get back here with that!”
Ten paces and closing. His legs were longer than hers and he was quick on the sand. But she was wearing shoes, and he was barefoot. Mairead darted into the jagged crop of rocks at the cliff base and made for the stairs. As she turned she spared a glance in his direction. He lagged behind her, circling around the boulders to avoid stepping on the sharp rocks.
“Where are you taking my skin?! Answer me!”
Mairead panted as she ascended the stone stairs, the selkie’s hide growing heavier with each step. Her chest was heaving when she slowed briefly, carefully avoiding the muddy slip between the last few stairs and the clifftop above. What if he didn’t see it? A chill wrapped around her. What if he fell? He was a creature of the ocean, and surely not as practiced a climber as herself. If he tumbled down the cliff this would all have been for naught, and she would have killed him besides. She dared another glance behind. He gracefully hefted himself over the edge and vaulted over a shrub without stopping. Mairead yelped and sprinted toward her home. He was gaining.
She hurtled across the field. The selkie closed on her, yelling and cursing as she crashed through her garden gate, then the front door. She clutched the hide to her chest, slammed the door shut, and threw down the heavy wood bar, bracing her back against it. Moments later, his heavy fist pummelled the door from the other side, her body rattling with the force of him.
“Open up now, woman!”
“I won’t!”
“I’ll tear your door from its hinges!”
“You haven’t the strength.”
“Open up or I’ll prove you wrong!”
“And if I do, how am I to be sure you won’t hurt me?”
The incessant pounding stopped for a moment. “I don’t hurt women.”
“No, but you’ll gladly frighten them by stalking their beach!”
“If ye did not want me here, you could have thrown a rock or two at me instead of stealin’ my damned skin!” He grabbed the handle, tugging in vain on the weathered, sturdy door. The selkie gave up and rattled it on its frame.
“I have no cause to injure you!”
“No, you’re merely a sneaking little thief!” His palm slammed onto the wood and the shaking stopped. She could hear him catching his breath on the other side of the door, just over her shoulder. She too breathed heavily, her pulse drumming in her ears from the chase, and waited. He spoke more gently, his voice smooth and deep. “I trespassed, didn’t I? My mistake. Now give me my skin back, and I swear before heaven you’ll never see me again.”
She closed her eyes. “That’s not why I took it.”
“Why then?” He smacked against the door. “What do you plan to do with it?!”
“I have a bargain for you!” He grew quiet. “If I let you in, will you promise not to harm me?”
She felt the door lurch as he backed away. “I swear by Odi— by Christ and all the saints—”
“I’m not Catholic.”
He grumbled. “I cannot keep track of your gods, woman. Just accept my oath. I swear ye no harm.”
She paused for a moment, then quietly unbarred the door and scurried away. He threw it open so hard that it slammed against the wall, scattering dust from the rafters. The selkie stood in the frame, his feet planted wide and his presence imposing. He advanced, kicking the door shut behind him, and Mairead backed to the wall as he approached. Her mouth was dry. “I wanted to ask—”
“Give me my skin.” He towered over her, his eyes wild, and his hand outstretched.
“Not until I’ve said my piece!”
“You hold me against my will, then?”
“That’s not what I’m—”
“Aren’t you now?” His speech had a slight accent to it. Shetlander? Faroese? Northern. Clipped, but lyrical. He spread his arms wide and stepped a pace back from her. “You knew it would keep me aground, did you not? That was the idea.”
“No.”
His voice immediately dropped its harsh edge. “Then what do you wish to do with me, little thief?”
“It— it’s not what I wish to do with you…” The creature folded his arms across his broad chest, and— was that a smile? He stood proud and tall, amused as she tried to force her eyes not to flit downward. And the more she tried not to stare, the more her eyes were drawn to his groin. Wait! Did he just twitch his— Intentionally! Fire bloomed up her cheeks and she turned her head away. “Will you please cover yourself?”
“My only cover is clutched to your breast.”
She motioned to the side. “Sit on my bed, then; there’s a blanket there.”
“On your bed.” He grinned and paced slowly, sinuously toward the mattress. “Is that why you stole my skin?”
“Wait, I—”
“Do your own menfolk not please you? So you sought out a creature like me?”
“You misunderstand!”
“You stole my skin, lured me to your home and now you command me to your bed.” He raised his eyebrows thoughtfully. “Seems clear enough.” He sat, leaning on his arms for support, his knees parted. All the lines of his body drew her eyes to his manhood. She tried desperately to avoid looking, focusing instead on his arms and their markings, but it felt fruitless. His eyes were mirthful, and he worried the corner of his lower lip with a sharp canine. Every glance, every expression on her face seemed to amuse him.
He’s tormenting me. He’s tormenting me and enjoying it! Don’t look down… His cock twitched again and Mairead was thrust back to how she’d found him— pleasuring himself and sighing her name. This was a mistake… a dreadful mistake. She huffed, her face hot. “That’s not why! I took your skin because I need your help. And can you please make yourself decent?”
He shrugged and pulled a blanket over his lap. “Less frightening now?”
“I’m not afraid of you.”
“You’re shaking like a leaf.”
“Well, I’ve never stolen a selkie’s hide before!” She exhaled. “I took it because I need to make a bargain with you.”
He leaned forward. “You keep saying bargain, but you have me at your mercy. So it’s not a bargain. It’s a ransom.”
Mairead shook her head. “This is all I have.”
“So what do you want from me?”
“I need… a husband.”
“You’re comely enough.” He frowned. “Why use my skin as a prize to entice a man to marr—”
“No! I… this is madness… Why am I…” She composed herself and started again. “I need you to pose as my new husband so that the gentleman who is pursuing me will have no cause to continue his courtship.”
“Seems a bit complicated. Just tell him you’re not interested.”
“He will not accept my refusal.”
“He has no say, though.” The selkie shrugged. “You say no, you don’t let him on your land, you bar your door. Just as you did with me. And if he tries to enter, you put an axe through his chest.”
“He’s a very powerful man, and I don’t own this land! Half of it was my father’s and the rest belonged to my husband before he married me.”
“But if they’re dead, all this is yours now.”
“That’s not how it works. I’m a woman. I could be cast off, the land given to the crown. I had no children and no claim here. And my mourning period is almost at an end.”
He looked at her quizzically. “And how do I, specifically, figure in?”
“The gentleman pursuing me… Learmonth… he will try to find a distant relation of my husband willing to sell him the land for a song. Most of my husband’s family died in the Uprising. It was chaos after. I found one male in the family whose birth was recorded, but not his death. I want you to pose as him.”
“And this man you think I’ll pretend to be… what if he comes around?”
“He can’t. He died shortly after he was born and wasn’t baptized. No marked plot, no kirk record of his life or death.”
The selkie nodded. “So I would marry you then—”
“A feigned marriage.”
“And you want me to take this unfortunate dead babe’s name.”
“Yes.”
He leaned back. “What’s in it for me?”
“I’ll give you your skin back.”
He threw his head back and laughed, and Mairead could see that some of his teeth were just a little sharper than a man’s. She had been lulled by speaking to him into thinking that this was a man, and not a beast that could rip her to pieces on a whim. “Woman, look at you. You’re trembling. I could snatch it back from you in three steps, leave this house, and—”
“Yer beach will be turned to ash if you do!”
The creature scowled. “What?”
“Do you think my unwanted suitor cares for me at all? He’s after Rousay. He’ll petition for Clearance, throw everyone off the island, and use laborers to strip the kelp and burn it for soda ash to ship south, just as they did to Shapinsay and Westray. You want that?”
He grew silent, ruminating on it and his shoulders sank. “No.”
“Then you’ll help me, I hope.”
“You and I would live here as man and wife… for how long?”
Man and wife… “In the eyes of God and all else, yes, but not… not with each other. And only for a year, perhaps. Then you disappear one day, and you never have to see me or think of me again. And I’ll swear that if ye come back, I’ll not pester you. The beach will be entirely yours. I’ll stay away.”
“What excuse would you give for my disappearance?”
“That you went to sea fishing and I never saw ye again. You can take my boat far from here. I won’t need it anyway if I keep my end of our bargain.” She felt a cold creep into her belly. To give up the freedom of her boat…
“And how are you sure this… Learmonth won’t come after you once I’m gone?”
“I’d spend a year in search of you. Most will assume you abandoned me to return to Scotland.” He huffed at that. Mairead continued. “You’d be missing and without a body, you wouldn’t be declared dead for a time; perhaps a year after. I’d be in mourning for another full year. That will be three years of distance between Learmonth and I.”
“Well. You seem to have thought of everything. Assuming he won’t pursue a bonny catch like you again.”
“He’s looking for heirs. Surely he will have moved on to someone more profitable. And I’d be twice-widowed and too old to be of interest.”
“Oh, I doubt that,” he said, the corner of his mouth lifting.
He was flirting. Flirting, and naked and sitting on her bed, and— she swallowed. “There’s another thing, and if ye cannot swear it thusly, then I’ll give your skin back now. I need your word that you won’t… press the advantage with me. That you wouldn’t… ah…”
“You want me to promise not to fuck you.”
She blanched. “Yes. I want you to promise that.”
“You have my oath. I will not violate you.”
“In truth, you’d be my legal husband, so by law you’d be within your rights, but I’m asking that—”
“I don’t take unwilling women.” He straightened, his blue eyes icy and challenging.
“Then we are in agreement?”
