5* Reviews for Banshee
5* Reviews for Newgrange
From Chapter 4 of The Celtic Curse: Banshee
Lightning lit up the wagon and thunder bellowed above. Keela longed for Fionn to be there to comfort her. Her mother had always consumed too much ale to hear any noise at all. Not even a violent storm could wake her though Keela still wished she lay in her cot now, roaring out pig noises and mumbling words.
The wagon jerked and the mule he-hawed. Keela peeked outside to see the mule gone. She quickly put on her cloak and walked to the back of the wagon to see if it sheltered there. Her feet sank into the soft, moist mud, and there was no sign of the dumb mule. She heard a tapping noise behind her and turned to see an arm raised above her. Fintan clutched a burnt log, and with a heavy hand, he plunged it down. Keela staggered and felt the sharp pain in the crown of her head. The blood poured down into her eyes. Her vision became blurred red and then black as she fell to the ground with a soft thud.
From Chapter 1 of Red: An extreme horror novelette
I followed my princess every night for six weeks. Each time I heard those voices, her voice called to me. She wanted me. She said all those things to turn me on. She teased me. ‘I want you to take me. Tie me up. Fuck me hard, Todd.’ She said them to me. Not out loud, of course, but I heard them all the same. Just like all the other princesses. I brought them home and treated them like a goddess. Cooked for them. Cleaned them down, wiped the blood stains away, and made love to them. But they all lied to me. Fucking bitches pretended to be happy, but they wanted to leave me. I showed them. After all, they liked me to fuck them hard...so I fucked them with something hard. They screamed with pleasure, they wanted more, their voices told me. Their screams turned to little bitchy whimpers and then...nothing. I tossed them aside just like they would have done to me. They were all like her, and I won’t be tossed aside again.
From Chapter 1 of The Celtic Curse: Newgrange
The stalk selected by the slave bounced high in the middle and landed on the dead tufts of barley. The others sighed with relief as they would live for now. The slave, Aongus, watched his stalk and life flutter by on the wind, prancing to the tune of mortality. He heard footsteps as one of the elderly Druids squelched through the mud and stood directly behind him. The chill in the air did not stop the sweat rolling from his hairline to his brows, as his breathing quickened. A large stone hovered above his head, ready to come lumbering down as soon as the prayer finished. To move now was his only chance of survival.
Today, my servant brought me the youngest meat I ever dined on.
I remove layers of skin and fat, my sharpest knife easily cleaves through, until I have a whole cut of meat, the rump being the sweetest.
Blood seeps from every orifice but I need not worry, bowls are there to collect the delicious crimson fluid, which I insist is warm before I bath in it. What I despise are the muffled screams these girls expel when their meat is carved to the bone. I am so damn mad… I slice their pretty little necks wide open. Ha!
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