Eleusis by Genevieve Fairbrother
Macy needs a break. Her parents are dead and a moody trespasser has set up camp on the property she has inherited. When the stranger confesses himself to be an ageless sea-god and tells Macy she has been guarding a secret she never knew existed, her once simple life takes a drastic turn. Just when she thinks it can’t get any stranger, a back door to the Underworld opens up and it’s time to run like hell.
Mythology and contemporary life collide as this fast-paced novel explodes and dark forces tracking Macy surface to capture her. In the transatlantic chase that follows, she learns of her forgotten past and a centuries-old connection to the sea-god who helps her escape. A tragic miscalculation derails Macy and in a moment of self-sacrifice she ends up where it all began, trapped in the Underworld.
Has she learned enough about her past to forge a meaningful future? Utterly alone, she realizes that to gain real freedom, she must reject her assigned place in history and in doing so risk everything. Events challenge her whilst she comes to grips with her legacy and decides what she wants in life. Family betrayal, sinister plot twists, and unlikely friends fill this exhilarating story of one woman’s journey to shape her future as she learns her true identity and strives to become a force in her own right.
Eleusis by Genevieve Fairbrother is one-of-a-kind contemporary paranormal adventure novel that narrates a unique perspective on women and relationships using the life of one immortal woman moving through time. This is her debut novel.
A ground mist blanketed the field outside the barn all the way down to the surrounding tree line. It was ethereal. She grabbed her mug and stepped outside. This time she chose the path that led from the upper field and wove through the trees to the lower pasture that bordered Little Choestoea Creek above the waterfall. The mist stretched out across the field, undulating over the dips in the terrain. It felt like walking through a cloud. The birds’ morning chatter and the gurgling and chortling of the stream at the far border of the field broke the quiet. Gentle winds whispered among the dry autumn leaves. She crossed the field and joined the path that edged the stream and followed it to the waterfall. The mist overflowed the field and slipped down the bank, hovering over the stream.
At the head of the waterfall, the water rushed over the mossy rocks and curved around the massive granite boulders. The stream cascaded over the falls and flowed down the cove to join the lake in the distance. Macy decided to follow the cove out to the end, where she could see the mist floating like a blanket over the water. She picked her way along the side of the cove, climbing up and over boulders of granite as they sloped down to the water’s edge. Sometimes, when the terrain was too difficult, she clambered up into the tree line and walked along the edge of the forest. Shortly she came out onto the beachy area at the head of the cove.
The sun was starting to rise over the hill to her back, and golden light began to stream through the trees. She looked out over the mists to the far side of the lake, where the light was hitting the far shore. The trees, some deciduous and now nearly naked of leaves, created a wall of mottled brown and olive. It was hauntingly beautiful in the cold light of the early morning. She sank to her haunches and wrapped her arms around her knees. Brown and desiccated rushes crackled in the light breeze just below her perch. Macy gazed out across the misty cove and took in the view.
A hawk glided in lazy circles over the water. Across the small cove, three deer stole out of the woods, tasting the air. Macy held her breath and kept perfectly still.
Suddenly, from the middle of the lake, a man crested and soared high out of the water and turned a graceful arc in the air before arching backward and falling through the mist, diving soundlessly into the water.
Macy gasped. The deer fled. She leaped to her feet and spilt what little was left of her tea. What the hell was that? An Olympic water-polo player couldn’t get that kind of air. Immobilized, she kept her eyes glued to the place she had seen the man dive back into the water. It seemed to take forever. Did she just imagine it? Then again!
This time he came corkscrewing out of the water and shot up out of the lake with the mist trailing behind him. He whooped as he spun up and around, and Macy inhaled sharply, clasping her hand over her mouth as he disappeared under the water. Almost instantly he rose out of the mist. She stood very still. He turned slowly until he faced her, then began moving toward the shore. He had spotted her.
She started to back up, stumbled over a rock, and dropped her mug.
He appeared to be gliding on top of the water, picking up speed. Turning, Macy ran as fast as she could and fled for the tree line. Her heart pounded, and sudden fear twisted in her stomach. It was obvious he hadn’t expected a witness.
Macy hit the trees, scrambling through them. Her heart convulsed sickeningly. She didn’t dare look back. The forest grew a little denser as she made her way deeper into the woods. Her pursuer was already crashing around below her in the tree line. He had reached the shore very quickly, and she couldn’t outrun him. Macy passed a low bush behind a fallen tree. It concealed a hollow, and she wedged herself in the corner. She hunkered down as low to the ground as possible and listened. She heard wind rustling through the trees and the disturbances that little lizards make flitting through the undergrowth. Soon the sound of the man tramping through the woods faded.
Macy emerged from her hiding spot and looked around shakily.
Connect with the Author
Genevieve Fairbrother lives in Atlanta with her husband and two teenagers. She attended Wellesley.
Website & Blog: www.genevievefairbrother.com
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