Coming Soon!
October 2012
"MarcoAntonio & Amaryllis"
By: Y. Correa
A Medieval Love Affair...
A Taboo Romance...
An Interracial Amour...
Look for it at all Major
E-Book Retailers
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Introduction
LOVE
is the result of ALL things conquered...
In
a time when “Intermixing” of races was a taboo affair,
MarcoAntonio fell in love, unwillingly to the person he should have
least put his eyes on – Amaryllis.
She
too knew that this love affair was prohibited. She too was aware of
the ramifications of their actions. She too was petrified of the
outcome, should someone become informed of their union. Yet, with all
that, she loved him! He loved her!
†††††
Through
trials, struggles and tribulations Rye remained optimistic that
freedom would come... somehow! So, if continuous fighting
would be necessary to obtain that freedom... than so be it!
Rye
knew just one thing – FREEDOM can only be obtained through
SACRIFICE.
†††††
Is
it possible to be born into the world and not know your significance?
Is it possible to live an entire life with no inkling whatsoever
about what part you are playing in the game of life? It would
be apparent that such was Damian's situation. He'd no idea that even
the smallest of his choices were in direct accord to his part in the
fulfillment of a long foretold prophecy.
First
Prologue
The
Anglo-Spanish War
Of
1585
Spain
was a beautiful place indeed. It was everything that the English
would and could have wanted. Trades were in great supply, land was
ample, crops and vegetation were plentiful. All that they had left to
do was make the land their own.... somehow.
Many
English families decided to move to Spain, as they were positive that
England would and could win the battle between the two lands. And, as
soon as that transpired, they would have free reign over the crops,
supplies and land. It was all just a matter of time.
At
the market, an elderly Spanish lady sat selling her fair share of
goods. Whatever it was she had to sell for the day, she neatly laid
upon the table that her son had made for her in order to showcase
them to the passer's-bye. Behind her, a noble Spanish fellow stood
and no one that walked by could tell if he was a guard of the market,
or if he was watching over the elderly lady. He said nothing, he
spoke to no one. Yet, with an eagle eye he watched everyone that
passed by; hands crossed in front of his chest.
A
young English girl walked with her mother partaking in what the
market had to offer that day. She browsed with finesse; ever so often
taking into her hand an object of her choosing, then from time to
time grabbing something else in order to share it with her mother.
Walking
by the elderly lady, that sat in front of the table, the young girl
caught sight of the fellow that stood behind her. He also caught
sight of the English girl. Even though, his posture remained
unchanged something inside
of him changed
just as it did with her.
A
single look! That was all it took... one single glance, for them both
to know, that they wanted each other more than they wanted anything
else in this world. It was “love at first sight”, indeed.
He
a Spanish knight, and she an English lady. Prohibited love. A
taboo romance. While their people were at war for land, crops and
supplies; MarcoAntonio and Amaryllis were at war with a forbidden
love. The fight for their right to be together would be genuinely
difficult...
Second
Prologue
Mother
Haydie's bodiless essence drifted in the Netherworld...
All
lust, sexuality, sensuality. Powerful. More than any other Witch
Deity. Goddess of a Celtic Witch culture and creator of the entirety
of nature. She was Mother Nature!
When
would she be called upon? When would her vessel be selected and when
would they find the prophesied mate? This had to be perfect! It had
to be impervious to misconstruction. No flaws would be accepted.
She'd waited far too long. Far too much time had passed and she was
growing wearier by the
second.
She
knew the Coven of Sisters, known as the “Sisterhood” was well
prepared. She knew that her prophesy had been placed in good hands,
yet the anxiety was too much for her to bear.
Time
just whisked by like a whistling wind. A wind that carried her with
it. Like a misty ghost she hovered in the Thereafter waiting to be
called. With time almost nonexistent in her less than physical state,
she'd acquired too much time to think. Had she been wrong in writing
the prophecy? Had she moved too quickly in anger?
No!
She'd not! The world was losing respect for her! She had to do
something... So she did! Being a goddess of her caliber was nothing
simple or mundane. She had an entire world to think about.
Who
was the bastard that had founded this new religion anyway?
Once she'd been called back, she'd have to find him and behead him
somehow. However, if he was no longer alive, than she'd just have to
find his followers and do something about them... Christianity!
Bah!
Mother
Haydie ached! It'd been far too long since she'd felt a man.
Far too long! She needed to feel a masculine body pressed up against
her. Burning her flesh. Swaying between her thighs. She needed it!
Craved it! If there was just one pleasure that humans had, which
goddesses didn't, it was the ability to feel. And feel
something she wanted!
She
thirsted for the opportunity to inhale the metaphysical essence and
spirit of a man, while basking in his physical competence to pleasure
her every carnal desire. Her chest heaved with every deep breath that
lodged in her throat at the mere image of it in her head.
Antsy.
Impatient. Growing angry and frustrated, she paced... No! Floated...!
Back and forth.
Something
must be done!
Chapter 1
Midnight.
Still he had yet to take recess from his vigorous stride. He had to
make it. He needed to see her! Just a glimpse, as always, would make
his day complete. Just a small glance at her smile and her eyes. That
was all he needed. All he truly needed to commence the fight
all over again tomorrow. His faithful steed, as accustomed, did not
give up on him. Even after an entire day of battle.
His
life wasn't easy. His battle was continuous. If he was not battling
against others, he was at war with himself. As he rode, he thought
and it occurred to him that his internal war could quite possibly be
the biggest fight of his life.
“Mush,
Altivo, anda!” he called out as he coaxed his exquisite Caspian
horse to move forward. “Anda, Altivo!” he'd learned that he could
count unconditionally on his beautiful, Altivo. He was, after all,
the only true friend that MarcoAntonio had. MarcoAntonio knew what it
was to have acquaintances come and go through his life. He knew
people. Many people. Yet, none was as true a friend as Altivo, his
milk chocolaty, muscular and strong Caspian horse. Altivo, knew how
to listen; when necessary. He also knew how and when to act; when
necessary. What more could any man ask for from a friend?
His
focus returned to her.
What cruelty life offered him that his “one
true love”
was unattainable. Yet, obtaining her was his only conviction. His
only mission and obsession. She was in fact the most beautiful
creature he'd ever known both inside and out. She'd yet to fully
be his. But, he was certain, that one day, she would be his –
totally and completely. He would fight for her until he exhaled his
last breath. Even if that were the very cost.
However,
for today; he'd be content, as he always was, with just looking at
her from afar. Contemplate her beauty and know - in the depths of his
soul - that this was a battle worth fighting.
“Altivo,
stop! Para!” digging his front hooves into the dirt Altivo came to
a screeching halt. MarcoAntonio had be so preoccupied in his
train of thought, that he'd barely realized that they'd arrived. His
body slightly thrust forward with the abrupt stop. He leaped off his
horse, checking his hip for his sword and took in hand his ebony
shield. Even though it was the middle of the night, time and space
was never to be trusted. Things lurked everywhere. In his experience,
he knew that the most unexpected things could happen, at any given
moment. It was always best to be prepared.
Unhinging
a small sack from Altivo's saddle, he tossed it lightly in his hand.
These small jewels were what he used as pebbles, to throw and tap at
her window. What use did he have for them anyway? He owned millions.
Yet, he wanted none. So, why not use a precious stone to tap the
window of his precious treasure?
Tossing
the first blood ruby, he called, “Psst!” no answer. He tossed
another, this time a emerald, as green as the forest, “Psst!
Amaryllis! I'm here...” he called out again in a strong whisper. He
listened. He heard some rustling around. The first thing that he
caught a glimpse of was her hair as it came floating over the edge of
the balcony wall and grazed the ledge. Then her head leaned over and
looked down....
There
they were! Those eyes! That smile! Enough to melt even the
coldest of hearts. Everything about her made his heart skip a beat.
Her long luscious, silky hair, that was the perfect combination of
fire and ice all neatly intertwined into the most vivid shades of red
and gold. Her bright, sea blue eyes - that seemed to carry the
entirety of the sea within them. The milky brilliance of her skin.
The birthmark that she carried just above her lip, that seemed to be
placed in just the right spot to accent her lips and all of her
beauty to perfection. Her body! That alone was enough to make any
goddess jealous. She was not too thin; MarcoAntonio appreciated a
woman that looked healthy. Amaryllis, was just right, in every way.
At least in his opinion.
“You
are late...!” she pointed out.
“Well,
that may
be true, ma'lady,”
“'Tis!”
she said in a teasing tone, then smiled again. “You cannot stay
long. I'm being watched.”
“And?”
he replied with mockery lingering in his voice.
Amaryllis
giggled a little, covering her mouth she tried her best to keep
quiet. His wit always made her laugh. Then she quickly got serious,
“MarcoAntonio, 'tis dangerous. And you knows this to be true. 'Tis
always a risk to visit me at these hours, my love.”
“And
this
is precisely why I love her so!” he stated bravely. “Amidst
everything, my beautiful lady, is always concerned for the well being
of her knight.... Knight,
may I remind, ma'lady!”
“A
knight, that appears to be looking for trouble, should our foes
become aware of his lingerings.”
“Let
them become aware!” he raised his voice, still with lightness and
taunting sounding within it, “Should they come, I will slay
them...!” he pulled his sword from his hip and began a little
dance. Bouncing around, sword in hand, he swung it in the air as if
he were fencing against the strongest of men, “I will give them a
little of this! Then... a little of that!” he jumped in Altivo's
direction, “And my trusted steed, shall save me, and whisk me away
into the darkness of night,” then he turned to look up at her, “Of
course, never,
before
first
having valiantly saved, ma'lady.” then tossing his arm into a whirl
in front of him he bowed at her.
Amaryllis
giggled some more, “You shall never change; will you?”
“Why
should I, ma'lady? If I change, then I shall lose my most precious
treasure... your
love.”
“Well,
I suppose that is true, noble Sir.”
“'Tis,
ma'lady.” and he smiled at her.
What
was it about his smile that made her insides flutter about? She
couldn't explain it. She didn't understand it, but she liked it. The
single thought
of
his visit, would cause butterflies to make themselves at home in her
belly. And, his
smile!
So gentlemanly, so lively; in so many ways, that it alone filled her
with the desire to live. As if his
livelihood, gave her
life; no matter how hard the situation between them could be.
She
knew, as well as he did, that life was unfair. Their situation was
cruel. She
could not love him...
yet, she did.
He,
could not love her...
yet, he
did.
What would they do?
It
would be far beyond her family to understand that she, a
white English lady,
was in love with what they would easily call a
worthless, putrid, power thirsty, Spanish man.
They despised him, and all others like him. They would never allow
her to be with him. They and all others like them would be completely
opposed to their union - and, she knew of many; the towns people, her
extended relatives... the witches.
The
witches!
The thought of them alone caused a shiver to rise up and down her
spine. She'd been fortunate enough to never have encountered them.
She'd heard plenty,
about the evil Clan of witches - a coven that the townspeople called
The
Sisterhood.
This truly was a group of individuals that no rational minded person
would want to encounter. One would have to be mad. Only a mad person
would go to such lengths as to summon The Sisterhood.
Yet,
he
was beautiful to her - her dear and beloved MarcoAntonio. His
shoulder length opal black curls, penetrating long dark lashed, brown
eyes with dark masculine eyebrows that were the perfect accent to his
beautiful eyes. Medium tanned amazingly melded milk and caramel skin.
The ruggedness that his entire ora put out, yet, the childish sense
of joy and playfulness which he only displayed to her and no other.
He
was amazing to her. He was so handsome with his five o'clock shadowed
mustache and beard. He was the perfect height for her as well,
standing at about five feet, eleven inches. A precise compliment to
her five feet six inches. His stature was so manly. She could not ask
for more. And, his smile;
Goodness, his smile made her knees go weak!
Suddenly,
feeling the need to get to the point of his visit, MarcoAntonio,
became instantly serious, “Ma'lady, I wanted to come see you before
the suns rise,”
Amaryllis
nodded her head only once and smiled with the sweetness that filled
her soul each and every time she remembered what her smile did to
him. She was more than aware that her smile lit up his day. And, this
was precisely what she intended. She felt the need to provide him
even the smallest bit of happiness knowing what extents he went
through in order to see her. His soul endeavor was to see her. A
small honest smile, and a whispered word of hope - that was all he
needed to go on. She knew it, and so did he, “Thank you, my brave
and valiant Knight. 'Tis a privilege to me, to see you.”
“Ma'lady,
the pleasure is mine.” he said tilting his head down into a modest
bow. “Ma'lady, beautiful and honorable damsel, I thank you...”
“For
what, Silly?” she pleasantly interrupted.
“For
the blessing of allowing me the sight of you. For the privilege of
looking upon you. For the simplest gesture of your smile. For the
lightness that your presence gives my heart.”
“Ah!
Well, bold Sir, 'tis my pleasure, indeed,” she said with a smile.
Then immediately became serious once more, “Now, go! Go before,
someone sees you!”
“Ay,
Ma'lady. But, 'tis only because you have asked,” MarcoAntonio,
decided to point out, “'Tis not
because they
scare me!”
“Yes.
Yes. I know, bold Sir. Now go! Hurry!”
“Ay,”
he said. Then bent down and picked the rose closest to him, and
tossed it up towards her, “A rose, for a rose.” Then extending
his arm out, leg forward, he bent into a noble bow, “Good night,
ma'lady.” it seemed that every time he said good bye, his heart
broke just a little bit more. He could not be sure when his next
visit to her would be. But, he made it his mission to visit whenever
able. This was after all, his only reason for living.
Leaping
back on to his horse, MarcoAntonio, locked his heals into Altivo's
side, “Anda, Altivo!” the horse spun around, and at that very
instant, MarcoAntonio looked back and blew a kiss to his love. And,
she in turn did the same. Just like that, Altivo, took off into the
darkness of night.
COPYRIGHT 2012
Y. CORREA
First Prologue
The Anglo-Spanish War
Midnight. Still he had yet to take recess from his vigorous stride. He had to make it. He needed to see her! Just a glimpse, as always, would make his day complete. Just a small glance at her smile and her eyes. That was all he needed. All he truly needed to commence the fight all over again tomorrow. His faithful steed, as accustomed, did not give up on him. Even after an entire day of battle.