When the Veil Thins, Forbidden Love Awakens Samhain and, The Wolf & The Druidess

The Wolf and the Druidess, the first book in my Druidry and the Beast series. This spicy, romantasy, mythology retelling is my Celtic take on a Halloween werewolf tale. Mystical and magical, the story’s set at Samhain rather than Halloween, and instead of a werewolf, the hero is the Celtic god Gwydion; a wolf is one of his shape-shifting forms. In my story, he leaves the Otherworld and even risks his life … for love.

Samhain (sow-in) is the Celtic New Year, and it falls from October 31st to November 1st. It was also a magical day. The ancient Celts believed that since Samhain fell between the old year and the new, it was a day without time. That diminished the veil between the earthly and the ethereal (the worlds of mortals and immortals—the dead and the living). 

 To celebrate the new year, the ancient Celts feasted on fresh-picked turnips, apples, and hazelnuts, and left plates of delectable food, mead, and treats out for their ghostly kin visiting from across the veil for Samhain. 

 Let’s talk about those turnips. The ancient Celts also masterfully sculpted mangel-wurzels, a hearty turnip, to look like skulls, and placed candles inside to light them within. Sounds like the modern-day tradition of jack-o’-lanterns, doesn’t it? 

 And those apples. They were as big a part of Samhain as today’s caramel apples, candy apples, bobbing apples. But on Samhain, you had to keep your apples away from pucas. Those mischievous, shapeshifting fey would spoil any apples left after the feast. Even now, I’d think twice before biting into an apple plucked post-Halloween. A sneaky puca might be lurking around. 

And what about hazelnuts? It was believed they gave wisdom and vigor to anyone who ate them. Maybe I should eat a handful of two on Halloween to seek ancient insight. 

But the ancient Celts weren’t vegetarians; a big part of the Samhain feast was boiled and roasted meat. As autumn bid farewell, livestock not fit for winter’s chill met their fate, ensuring a table heaped with rich meats. And to wash it down? Nothing less than the most intoxicating ale or mead. But the feast was just part of the rowdy Samhain festival. T

The Celts also celebrated with lively games, from thrilling hurling matches to exhilarating horse races. The main event of the evening was the massive, roaring bonfire. In Ireland, the druids ensured that each year, when the sun went down on the hill of Tlachtga (Hill of Ward) about 12 miles from Tara, they ignited the grandest fire—its flames reaching out to the inky night freckled with sparkling stars and crowned by a silver crescent moon. 

The Wolf and the Druidess Blurb: 

She was never supposed to desire the beast lurking in the dark woods... especially when he’s a god. 

Druidess Seren should be preparing for the Samhain feast. 

Instead, she finds herself mesmerized by something impossible. 

A massive black wolf shifting into the breathtaking form of Gwydion, 

the powerful Celtic god whispered about in legend. 

Bare skin. Amber eyes. 

One look at him, and desire takes hold. 

One touch, and the magic between them ignites like wildfire. 

But loving a god was never meant to be safe. 

As the spirits of Samhain awaken and danger closes in, 

Seren and Gwydion must fight for their forbidden love. 

Excerpt: 

 They came to a stop at the top of the hill, standing before the roaring bonfire. As the onlookers gathered around, Gwydion slipped off the druid robe and yanked the blue tunic over his head, then let them both fall to the ground. He blazed like the fire he stood before, and his heart pounded. Sliding his long fingers to the gold clasp at his belt, he unfastened it, then climbed out of his braies and kicked them to the side. The crowd cheered, but he had no care for what they thought; he saw nothing but the woman before him. Scrying her in the sacred salmon pond, he’d watched her from afar, and now he would have what he long desired. Seren. With his eyes locked on her, he waited for her to disrobe and bare her body to him. 

His gaze devoured her as the gold-speckled druid garment swished around her bare legs as her lithe feet kicked to and fro in a fast pace around the fire. As she slipped off the robe, it hit the dirt. Moving to the rhythmic beat of the drum, she unraveled the knot of her hemp belt and her plaid skirt dropped to the ground. Seren hoisted her tunic over her head and threw it down. 

Hurrahs rang out as they danced, circling the fire. Gwydion’s heart raced to the rhythmic beat of the bodhran as he jumped and kicked his feet in fast movements. 

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