Let me introduce Wade J. McMahan. He is the author of a newly released (surely to be a best-seller) Waves in the Wind. Looking for a Christmas present for a reader in your life? Want to visit early Ireland from the comfort of your chair? Check out Waves in the Wind on Amazon. It is a lovely read. [I asked Wade for an author photo. He protested and said he doesn’t photograph well, but sent me one. I will use it because it serves him right. I think it looks just like him.]
I must take a moment to thank my good friend, Susan Stuckey, for allowing me to make a guest appearance here. Together, we share an interest in writing fantasy. For my new novel, the setting is ancient Ireland, while for Susan, the action occurs on her magical, faraway world, Aldura.
Allow me to tell you a bit about “Waves in the Wind.”
Look back, far, far back and you will discover an Ireland spoken of only in legends, a magical land ruled by kings, inhabited by gods and goddesses, banshees and fairy folk. It’s there you will find Ossian, a young man possessing the infinite knowledge of the Druids who risks losing everything he holds dear—including the eternal love of a goddess.
It is a time of turmoil, an era of great change. Christian priests have arrived, armed with their Holy Trinity and single-minded intent to capture the hearts and minds of all who live there. Only the Druids stand in their way. The priests vow to rid Ireland of all “Snake Worshippers” by whatever means necessary.
War erupts, and even while relentless in battle, the young Druid wonders, “If gods can hold all men in their hearts, why can’t men hold all gods in theirs? Perhaps that is a singular failing of men. Perhaps our hearts simply aren’t large enough to contain more than one faith. What a pity. I fear it will prove a bane for humanity throughout all time.”
As Ossian stands firm, his gods are already falling back in the face of Christian incursions. Their powers wane as more and more of the populace convert to Christianity, for what god can exist in the absence of worshippers? A last haven remains for them, the Isles of the Ever Young, Tír na nÓg. Even so, one refuses to retreat, the Morrigan, Celtic Goddess of War. It is she who confronts the Christians, it is she who sides Ossian in battle, and it is she who… Well, I invite you to read the novel.
Richly steeped in the sights, sounds and emotions of the sixth century, this historical novel allows a glimpse into an Ireland that exists today only in conjecture, and gives insight into the people whose presence may only be felt, and never again seen—like waves in the wind.
I want to thank Susan again for inviting me to tell you about “Waves in the Wind.” If your local bookstore doesn’t carry it on their shelves, ask them to order it. Otherwise, the novel can be purchased in print or all e-book formats through online booksellers around the globe, or at a great discount by clicking on the book cover. You can find out more about me and my other works by visiting my website, “The Incorrigible Liar.”
Below find an excerpt from Waves in the Wind for your reading enjoyment:
The Morrigan came to me today, an old gray crow squatting in the field of stones outside my cave mouth. Behind her, the vast emptiness of the wave-tossed western sea swept the horizon.
“Ossian,” she croaked. “What a poor thing you are, a king of stones and rotting fish.
Your wounds are healed, your father will not rise from the dead, nor will your sisters. Your gods are fading Ossian, old gods fall before the new, as I will. But not yet, though the followers of the Risen One grow stronger every day.”
Now, it is a poor thing to be mocked by your gods when you have tried to keep faith with them. Where was she when the Corcu Duibne came, my family slaughtered and our village put to fire? I had only the chance to strike one blow before a rider knocked me senseless and left me in the fields for dead. A simple kirtle to cover my nakedness and the serpent ring but all I carried here—here in my solitude these many months by the western sea.
Firelight danced upon the cave walls as I rose to face her. “Why do you come here to scoff at me now, My Queen? I have nothing, nothing! Why do you come to me now when there is naught more I can do for you?”
“Naught more?” she cackled. “Naught more you can do for me? I expect nothing and need less from you, Ossian, for you not only have nothing, you have become nothing. We had great hopes for you during the short years you stood beside us, but no more. Now you choose to cower within this lowly cave where you endure hunger and shiver from the cold. What a miserable being you’ve become, little man.”
“My Queen, I…”
“Silence!” she shrieked. “You will soon die here in this wretchedness of your own choosing. Oh yes, you will die unless once again you desire to wear the mantle of a man.” Her hoary wings spread wide. “The choice is yours, though the Lordly Ones care little either way.”
Her wings flapped once as she took flight into the murky, midday sky, and she was soon gone from view. The Lordly Ones little cared whether I lived or died, she had said. In that, they shared my own view of myself.
I threw myself upon my simple bracken bed as thoughts battled within my head. A thousand times I had prayed to the Lordly Ones that they might direct me from what I had been toward what I might become. A thousand times they ignored my pleas. Now, they sent their goddess, the Morrigan, but to what purpose? To warn me that I faced death? Yes, I might very well die here and with no thanks due any of the gods for their beneficence.
It had not always been so for me. Was I not of the Eoghanachts of the Cork region, son of Ciann Mehigan, son of Gicrode? Was I not highly educated and trained in the ways of the Druids?
Augh! Of what measure are such thoughts, such remembrances when they offered no consolation and merely compounded my torment? Perhaps they weren’t even true. Perhaps an evil fairy planted false memories in my mind as a means to taunt me. Even so, the past came flooding back from a time before the skies grew dark…