On Midsummer’s Eve, archeologist Goldie Locke finds more than she bargained for at her dig site. She’s devoted years to discovering the equivalent of a Scottish Rosetta stone to unlock the mystery of the Pictish language. After unearthing a promising carving, she falls asleep in a fairy circle and wakes up completely naked next to a sexy, equally naked Archfay named Tyrnan. She can see he’s well equipped to grant her every wish, but rather than spending a hot night with Tyrnan, all-work-and-no-play Goldie opts for learning more about the stone carving.
Granting her request, Tyrnan transports her to the fifth century, but he has ulterior plans. Goldie meets a warrior king and a passionate storyteller, and these encounters will prove to her that fairy tales do come true—though not always in the expected way.
“Let me get this right. You’re saying I’m in a fairy tale and you’re one of those little floaty things with wings, like Tinkerbell?” She knew full well what he meant by archfay. You couldn’t avoid a few lessons on the folklore of the Celts when you studied their languages. However, the use of stories about the daomine sidhe, the Tuatha De Danann, as a stepping-stone to decipher ancient texts was a far cry from believing in their existence. She’d meant to get a rise out of him and had, but not in the way she’d intended.
Tyrnan’s cock stiffened, and as it rose, so did he. He got to his feet and drew up to his full height. All six-foot-plus of him rippled with hard, lean muscle. Whether from the sunlight here in his enchanted field or some inner glow, he looked almost luminescent. Tall, radiant, powerful and certainly not tiny—in any way.
He stretched out his arms and a richly adorned green velvet robe appeared around him from nowhere. A headdress of gold shimmered into existence, his dark curls interwoven with the Celtic knots of its bright metal bands.
With him clothed, even in part, Goldie felt more naked than before. She drew back and wrapped her arms around her bent knees to cover herself. Cowering like a child. But she couldn’t help it. He was downright imposing. Okay. So maybe he is what he claims to be.
“If you are not overhappy to be here with me, I can send you back,” he told her, looking not entirely pleased himself.
A thought struck her. She didn’t really know that much about faery folks’ powers, but it wouldn’t hurt to ask. “Can you send me anywhere?”