It seems hard to imagine that anything could seem out of the ordinary in the world of fairies, but they too have their encounters with the unknown. When everything two leprechauns know melts away in a haze of blood and broken hearts, the two travel further than their whole village combined has ever been, only to meet with one final vision.
Targeted Age Group:: Young adults, Adults
What Inspired You to Write Your Book?
My life growing up in Ireland was surrounded by tales of mythical creatures and folklore and wanted to share my visions.
How Did You Come up With Your Characters?
Brainstorming and then coming up with a married couple overcoming adversity and facing fears which then never thought were imaginable. Characters
Rowan- A leprechaun who lives in the Quiet Place. He is one of the finest cobblers who lives there and is known to take in apprentices from the Kingdom, where many others don’t. When the fear gorta attack, he is one of the few to survive and leads a small band of faeries who begin a search to find Caoranach, who they believe is the case of the gorta attacks.
Naimh- Rowan’s wife. She’s a leprechaun, though there are rumours that one of her grandmother’s was a banshee. Though she doesn’t tell people, she often receives visions of death and knows when someone in the village is going to die. She sees a vision of the gorta attack long before it happens, but believes she is wrong as they don’t exist, so ignores it. When the attack begins, she leads the straggling survivors to safety, though her three children don’t make it as they were playing at a friend’s house on the opposite side of the village when it happened and she couldn’t get to them in time.
The scent of rainwater seeping through the earth trickled into Rowan's burrow; perking his nostrils and rousing a smile on his slumbering face. Something deep within him, an ancestral memory that knew things which his physical body did not yet know, had his senses tingling. Being a leprechaun, he was well used to the laws of the land, and on any given day, he could predict the weather by the look of the sky.
The gorta are coming, pouring into the Quiet Place like a colony of ants tumbling over one another, and they pincer and nip their way through the blessed gifts of nature. The sun-kissed green of the Quiet Place is flushed by this moving shadow. Each blade of grass is plucked from the earth by careless feet, leaving a barren brown where lush fields were lost.
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