View this author's other titles LENGTH: Short Story Cover art (c) Eliza Black 2004
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Mackenzie has finally made a life for herself, separate from the expectations of her mother, the Queen. She lives in constant fear that the man she loves will be ripped away from her and with good reason.
A volunteer at a women's center, and advocate against domestic violence, Mackenzie finds her hand forced and the tables turned on her. She's left no choice but to return to the Faerie Courts to face judgment. The black raven of death has paid her a visit on more than one occasion and she knows her time running out. Knowing there’s no cure, she tried to hide the truth from those who care for her. When the past comes to collect will she be ready to pay its price? Will the men who love her understand in time what they have to do, or will it be too late for Mackenzie? Can the truth behind it all set them free, or will it bind them in a way they never dreamt possible? Rating: This story contains mature situations, graphic violence, strong language, explicit sex, and a women's love for multiple men. It is not intended for the faint of heart. |
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"Five Hearts! Mandy M. Roth writes a fast-paced, action-packed story. Whether the action is under the covers or not, there is plenty of emotion and sizzle. The magic in her story is believable and in total harmony with the plot. The characters are very well written, and this reviewer has always loved her first person voice. Ms. Roth handles this very well, and brings the reader right into the heroine’s head. Not known to pull her punches, this is a gritty story with some violence, a woman’s love for two men, and explicit sex. But if you don’t mind all these things, this reviewer is sure you will love the continuing adventures of Mackenzie as much as she did." Valerie, Love Romances
REVELATIONS By Mandy M. Roth
"Thanks for all your help Mackenzie," Cherri said, smiling at me as I headed for the door. "I’ve told you a hundred times to stop thanking me. I enjoy what I do here. I like making a difference." It was the truth. I did love working at the women’s shelter. They were desperate for funding, and I seemed to find my niche when it came to rubbing elbows with high society for fundraising purposes. Could be from all my years as a faerie princess, but I wasn’t sure. Spending a lifetime with aristocrats will make you into a social butterfly--at least that’s what they tell me. Cedric had been furious with me for agreeing to take on this added bit, but once he actually saw how many women and their children passed through our doors, he changed his tune. He made a sizeable donation and made me promise to avoid using my name or having my photo taken while in public. I agreed to that. "Is your husband coming to pick you up? You seem run down lately. You feeling alright?" Cherri asked, as she ran her fingers through her short brown hair. I nodded and headed for the door. It was a lie, but Cherri would worry if I told her that Cedric would be at his office until late, again, and if I told her how I’d really been feeling, she’d rush me to the nearest hospital. "Night, Cherri." I called out as I put my jacket on and headed outside. The cool air blew past my face, sending locks of blonde hair flying into my face. Brushing them away, I growled slightly. I walked down the sidewalk, noticing how dark it really was. Every piece of me knew that I should have left the shelter hours ago, but had been so swept up in paperwork that I’d let time get away from me. I silently cursed myself for not taking Cedric up on his offer to teach me to drive. It had taken me a month to get used to riding in the truck with him. I couldn’t imagine myself being the one behind the wheel. I still wasn’t doing so well with human machines. I’d already set the stove top on fire twice in the few short months we’d been living among mortals, and one of those times I was heating a pan of water. No, I don’t think Cedric would be letting me live that one down anytime soon. Things were certainly easier back at the Blessed Court for me. I had servants to attend to my every need, and an army of men to protect me. I missed the servants' part, and the army of men had its advantages, and I’m not just talking protection, but I was happier now then I’d ever been. Sex with only one man had become more fulfilling than I’d ever thought possible. Granted, I wasn’t too happy about the circumstances surrounding Cedric and me leaving the Courts, but it was better this way. We were free from my mother’s sadistic behavior and the madness I like to call my life. I zipped my ski jacket up tight and fished my gloves out of my pocket. Cherri said that it wasn’t that cold out yet. She told me to wait until November got here, I’d know cold then. I didn’t agree. I was used to a nice even temperature that was always just right. The Blessed Court wasn’t prone to cold blustering winds or snowfalls. This was new to me. The norm where I came from was a constant, regulated temperature, and that was looking better and better every day. I pulled my hair loose from its clip and let it spill down and over my shoulders. There was very little point to keeping it tied up, since most of it had come loose and was blowing in my face already. My hopes were that it would keep me warmer, I was wrong. It did relive some of the tension that had been building at the base of my head. Not sleeping very well was taking its toll on me. My dreams of the Goddess Morrigan had been bothering me to the point I’d taken up an unhealthy addiction to caffeine in an attempt to stay awake. My body was not used to human inventions such as this, and it was proving to be more of a toxin than an aide, but I used it all the same. The Goddess Morrigan, according to Celtic mythology, is the Goddess of battle and death. Many a Si has witnessed her prior to a battle, and all have perished. To see her is to see your end, and I’d been seeing her on a regular basis in my dreams for close to two months now. It was amazing that I still took air in, let alone walked. She was coming for me, with death and an end to my immortality. This much I could accept, but Cedric never would. It was best to keep it from him for as long as possible. In my dreams, Morrigan would be bent over a river, washing bloody clothes. She looked exactly like me, yet somehow I knew that it was Morrigan and not me at all. The illusion of myself there may have been her way of easing me into the reality of my fate. There was no way for me to know for sure, and asking her was out of the question. I couldn’t explain why she appeared to me that way, but the very fact that she visited my sleep said that my time as an immortal was drawing to an end--and soon. I had tried to dismiss the dreams as nothing more than my overactive imagination and fear of my enemies finding me, but when the black raven started making appearances during my waking hours, I knew that I was screwed. The raven is another form that the Goddess Morrigan can take. Her persistence should have scared me, but it didn’t. I knew I was dying. I could tell by the weight and hair that I was losing and by the blood I’d been coughing up regularly. Cedric knew nothing of this, of course, and I had no intentions of telling him. There was nothing he could do for me now. There was nothing anyone could do.
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