Thursday, March 5, 2009
DANCING WITH FATE by Hywela Lyn
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When Terpsichore, the Muse of Dance, is assigned to revisit the land of Wales, her task seems simple enough. She is unaware there is a hidden agenda. Before she can return to Olympus her path crosses that of the mysterious Myrddin, and her heart is lost.
But Myrddin is promised to another. His mind is set on the dangerous task that lies before him, and the woman he has sworn to save. Nevertheless, he cannot deny the growing attraction between him and the beautiful stranger he meets along the way.
Terpsichore and Myrddin face a deadly force that threatens to part them forever. Is she destined to lose the only man she has ever truly loved? Is there nothing she can do to save him? Finally, when all seems lost, in desperation she finds herself DANCING WITH FATE.
Shaking her arms free of the silvery drops of water, the muse squeezed the wetness from her long hair, of which she was inordinately proud. Of all her womanly attributes, she loved her hair the best. It was so fine and silky it took hardly any time to dry. She spread her arms and let the warm air vanquish the last of the moisture from her skin. Oh this land was fair! She raised her arm in salute to Helios, knowing he could see whatever his warmth touched.
Terpsichore twirled around on tiptoe, bending back her head and taking in the craggy mountaintops, the trees full leafed and swaying slightly in the warm breeze. On an impulse, she began to dance. She conjured up a silky himation between her fingers and swirled it above her head as she moved to the accompaniment of her own voice. So involved was she in her dancing she failed to realise she was no longer alone.
She was the loveliest woman Myrddin had ever seen. Spellbound, he watched her step from the falls. He should have turned away but he found it impossible not to watch her as she dried herself. When she started to dance, he was captivated by her grace and the eloquence of her movements. She seemed unconcerned about her nakedness. Not that she had anything to be ashamed of; such exquisite beauty should not be covered. Long, dark red-brown hair fell like a veil of silk to below her knees. Her skin was smooth and flawless; her breasts were firm and high, full but not heavy, above a tiny waist. Her rounded hips undulated sensuously in time to her singing, while her upper body remained perfectly still, apart from the expressive movements of her arms. Her legs were slim and very long and she moved on tiptoe, her small feet scarcely seeming to touch the ground. Between her fingers, she held a long piece of silky material, which she swirled around her, until it seemed almost like a living thing.
Myrddin watched, enthralled. He'd never known anyone to dance as she did. The way she swivelled her hips had him mesmerised. Her voice was soft and clear, with a haunting quality. It reminded him of the musical bells of Maes Gwyddno, the civilization that now lay drowned beneath the sea. At times of danger, if one listened hard enough, one could hear the bells ringing from beneath the waves. Moreover, it may have been a trick of the light, but she seemed to radiate a soft glow, pure and shimmering. He shook his head in disbelief. He must be imagining it. He'd eaten nothing since dawn, this was surely a vision brought on by weakness from hunger.
Myrddin crept closer and a twig cracked underfoot. Before he could take cover, the beautiful dancer stood motionless. Her eyes, green as the depths of the ocean, looked directly into his.
Answer the following question for a chance to win a free electronic copy of DANCING WITH FATE and some extra goodies (like pens and bookmarks):
You are dancing naked in a daisy-filled meadow under a snow-capped mountain sky. When a blaring sound rouses you from your reverie, you find yourself standing on a subway platform during rush hour. What are the first words you say to the police officer?
You're in the mood for a little fantasy, right? Stop by to chat and have a glass of nectar!