It's on Kindle Vella and 100% complete - no worrying on if the story will be finished or not.

Grab it  HERE and let me know who'd you'd like to see as the main story of an upcoming book in the series.

Blurb:

In the Scottish Highlands of 1540, Delmena is no ordinary young woman. At just fourteen, she carries a reputation that sets her apart feared and shunned as a witch, her very presence cements her family's isolation within their clan. With no suitors and whispers of dark power surrounding her, Delmena's existence is a lonely one. But her power is far more dangerous than anyone can imagine. Her connection to the spirits of the dead is both a blessing and a curse, threatening to consume her.

 

This completes my WAY late A t Z 2024 challenge. Thank you to those that came back to finish it with me.

When we think of zodiacs, our minds often drift to star signs and celestial bodies, but in the realm of Celtic mythology, the concept of zodiacs takes on a deeply rooted, earth-bound twist. The Celts, ever connected to nature and the rhythms of the world around them, developed their own system of animal zodiacs, each linked to specific traits, seasons, and the natural world. These signs weren’t tied to the stars, but to the animals, trees, and elements that formed the backbone of their culture and spirituality.

Celtic zodiacs are based on the Druidic belief system, where animals represent the cycles of life and the characteristics of those born under each sign. Animals like the stag, hawk, salmon, and bear were seen as spirit guides, embodying qualities that people could look to for guidance, strength, or insight into their own nature. Each animal had its own symbolism—strength, wisdom, intuition, or transformation—that was woven into the fabric of everyday life and ritual.

Take the stag, for instance, often associated with leadership and independence. Those born under this sign are believed to be natural leaders, embodying the grace and strength of the stag as it roams the wilds. Or the salmon, tied to wisdom and knowledge, symbolizing those who seek deeper truths and the mysteries of life’s flow.

These zodiacs also connected people to the cycles of nature—spring, summer, autumn, and winter. Just as the natural world shifted through phases, so too did these animal signs offer guidance on how to navigate life’s transitions. The Celts saw themselves as part of the living world, not separate from it, and these zodiacs reinforced the idea that we are all shaped by the forces of nature around us.

The Celtic zodiac wasn’t just a form of divination, but a reminder that we are intrinsically tied to the earth, to its creatures, and to the ancient wisdom that courses through the natural world. It was about understanding the traits that connect us to these sacred animals and honoring the energies they brought into our lives.

So while the zodiacs we might know today look to the stars for guidance, the Celts looked to the earth beneath their feet, the creatures they shared it with, and the seasons that marked the passage of time. Their animal zodiacs were not only tools for self-reflection but also a way to stay connected to the wild, untamed magic of nature itself.

 

Yew trees, with their twisted trunks and dark, dense branches, are like the silent sentinels of the Scottish landscape. But these trees are more than just ancient flora—they’re steeped in folklore, magic, and deep-rooted symbolism that stretches back thousands of years. In Scottish tradition, the yew tree is a powerful symbol of death and rebirth, a living representation of the cycle of life that runs through the veins of Celtic mythology.

Yews are often found in old graveyards and sacred spaces, standing watch over the dead as if guarding the boundary between this world and the next. Their connection to death isn’t just a spooky coincidence; yew trees are slow-growing, and many live for thousands of years, giving them an almost timeless presence. Their evergreen nature, holding onto life even in the coldest months, makes them a natural symbol of immortality. It’s said that to plant a yew tree near a grave is to honor the dead and ensure that their soul finds peace in the afterlife.

But it’s not just about death. The yew is also a symbol of transformation and renewal. In Scottish and Celtic beliefs, it represents the idea that death isn’t the end, but simply a transition to something new. Its ability to regenerate—new branches sprouting from old, even when the heartwood has died—embodies the idea of life continuing in different forms, a concept that resonates deeply with the themes of reincarnation and the endless cycles of nature.

Yews are also linked to magic and the ancient wisdom of the druids. In the old days, druids would gather beneath the shade of yew trees, tapping into the deep, mystical knowledge the tree seemed to possess. The wood of the yew was often used to craft sacred objects, including bows, staffs, and ritual tools, believed to be imbued with the tree’s powerful, otherworldly energy.

But the yew also has a darker side. Parts of the tree, especially its berries, are highly poisonous, adding to its reputation as both a giver and taker of life. This duality—life and death, creation and destruction—is at the heart of what makes the yew so mystical. It reminds us that the world is full of contradictions, that death feeds life, and that endings are often just the beginning of something new.

So, when you see a yew tree standing tall in a quiet Scottish churchyard or deep in the heart of the forest, remember that it’s more than just a tree. It’s a symbol of the ancient cycles that have shaped our world for millennia, a living connection to the mysteries of life, death, and everything that lies beyond.

 

Crossroads—those eerie, in-between places where paths meet, often overlooked but heavy with significance in Scottish folklore. In a land filled with ancient traditions and deep-rooted superstitions, the crossroads are much more than just a junction of roads—they’re spaces of magic, danger, and transformation. A crossroads isn’t just where paths cross; it’s where worlds meet, a liminal space between here and there, life and death, the known and the unknown.

In Scottish belief, crossroads were often associated with the supernatural. It’s where you might encounter spirits, fae, or otherworldly beings, and where the veil between this world and the next is at its thinnest. These intersections were seen as places where magic was particularly potent, where deals could be struck, and where fates could be altered. The idea of making a bargain with dark forces at the crossroads is a familiar tale across many cultures, and in Scotland, it’s no different. Folklore whispers that if you stand at a crossroads at midnight, you might just find yourself in the presence of something not entirely human, ready to offer you a deal—though what you’d give in return might be more than you bargained for.

The crossroads were also a place where people believed the souls of the dead might wander, especially those who had met tragic or untimely ends. It was thought that burying the dead at a crossroads would confuse restless spirits, preventing them from finding their way back to the living world. This was often done with those who had committed crimes or taken their own lives, adding an extra layer of darkness and mystery to these already haunted spaces.

In the world of witches and magic, the crossroads held even more power. It was said that witches would gather at these intersections to perform their rituals, casting spells, and drawing on the energy of the earth converging at that point. The crossroads became a place of decision, a symbol of choice and consequence, where paths—both literal and metaphorical—could shift the course of a life.

In Scottish tradition, the crossroads represent more than just a physical space—they embody the idea of transition, a moment when everything hangs in the balance. Whether it’s the meeting of roads, worlds, or destinies, standing at a crossroads is standing at the edge of possibility. But be warned—what happens there is often unpredictable, wild, and not entirely within human control.

So, next time you find yourself at a crossroads, whether in the misty Scottish Highlands or the quiet backroads of anywhere else, pause for a moment. Feel the weight of the place. You might just sense the pull of something ancient, something waiting in the shadows, offering a choice, a path, or a deal you may not be ready to make. 

 

Witches in Scottish folklore—now we’re talking about a tradition steeped in power, mystery, and no small amount of fear. The very word “witch” in Scotland conjures up images of wild, windswept moors, ancient rituals, and secret gatherings under the full moon. Witches in Scottish mythology were not just the old women stirring cauldrons we see in pop culture; they were healers, seers, and figures both revered and feared by their communities. And as history shows us, they were often the targets of suspicion and persecution, leading to some of the darkest chapters in Scottish history.

In the folklore, witches were deeply connected to nature, wielding its elements for both good and ill. They were often seen as having a bond with the earth, able to heal or harm through their knowledge of herbs, spells, and ancient practices passed down through generations. Some witches were known as cunning folk—those who used their abilities to help others, guiding people through illness or personal crises with remedies and spiritual insight. Others, however, were seen as dangerous, capable of curses and dark magic that could wreak havoc on crops, livestock, or even the fate of a family.

Of course, this balance of power—between healer and harbinger of doom—made witches a source of both respect and fear. And that fear reached its peak during the witch hunts of the 16th and 17th centuries, when thousands of women (and some men) were accused of witchcraft and faced brutal trials. The North Berwick Witch Trials of 1590 are among the most infamous, where accusations of weather manipulation (blamed for a storm that nearly drowned King James VI) led to the torture and execution of many innocent people. This was a time when the line between myth and reality blurred, and superstition, politics, and fear combined in deadly ways.

The witches of Scottish folklore were also said to have deep connections to the fae and the devil himself. Legends tell of witches flying on broomsticks or even shape-shifting into animals like hares, traversing the land with supernatural speed to attend their infamous gatherings, or “Sabbaths,” in remote and sacred places. These meetings were said to be filled with wild dancing, spells, and communion with dark forces—though how much of this was real and how much was exaggerated by terrified townspeople is up for debate.

But witches were far from the evil caricatures history often paints them to be. Many were wise women, midwives, and practitioners of ancient, earth-based wisdom that didn’t fit into the rigid frameworks of religion or society. Their knowledge of the natural world was invaluable, and their role in Scottish folklore speaks to a time when magic and mysticism were woven into everyday life.

Even today, the legacy of witches in Scotland is palpable. The ruins of places like the Witches’ Stone in Forres and the memorials to those lost in the witch trials stand as a haunting reminder of the power of myth and the dangers of fear. Yet, the image of the Scottish witch endures, not just as a figure of darkness, but as a symbol of resistance, power, and the untamed forces of nature. So, whether you see witches as wild women of the moors or as victims of injustice, their presence in Scottish folklore is as alive as the wind through the heather. 

 

I did it!

I finally released one of the books I've had completed. It's on Kindle Vella and is uploaded and fully complete. There is NO worry on if it will be finished. All chapters are there and I just submitted to label it as complete.

I will be uploading one of my series next. I'd love your input on if you'd like to see the first book each from several series or if you'd refer to just see one series at a time and move to the next when a current one is complete. Sound off in the comments :)

But, for the other info. You can read Shining Amber HERE

She's a witch, chosen for an impossible task: to resurrect history's greatest warriors for a battle that will decide the fate of the world. Success means wielding their power, but their thirst for conquest could be her undoing. One thing is certain failure will mean the end of everything she knows, and the blame will fall squarely on her. With time running out, the survival of the world rests on her shoulders.

 

Vampires—those iconic creatures of the night that have captured imaginations for centuries, lurking in the shadows, living off the life force of others. While vampires are often associated with Eastern European folklore, there are whispers of these blood-drinking beings in Celtic and Scottish mythology too, suggesting that the allure of the undead transcends borders and cultures. And like everything in the world of myth, the vampire’s origins and nature are far more complex—and eerily fascinating—than the romanticized versions we see today.

In Celtic and Scottish lore, there are creatures that bear a striking resemblance to vampires, beings that crave life energy, whether in the form of blood, spirit, or vitality. One such figure is the Baobhan Sith, often referred to as the “Scottish vampire.” Unlike the classic Dracula-type, the Baobhan Sith is usually depicted as a beautiful woman dressed in green, luring men to their doom with her enchanting presence. But once they’re under her spell, she strikes—draining their blood and leaving them as lifeless as the landscape at dawn.

The Baobhan Sith doesn’t need fangs to feast. Instead, her beauty and charm do the work for her. She’s often linked with the fae, adding another layer to the mysterious connections between faerie folklore and vampires. Some tales suggest that these beings emerge from the hills, a nod to the fae world’s otherworldly portals. The lines blur between vampire and faerie, with both entities existing just on the edge of human understanding, ready to prey upon the unsuspecting.

But it doesn’t stop there. Celtic lore also tells of revenants—undead beings who rise from their graves to haunt the living. These spirits were often the restless dead, coming back to punish the living or satisfy an insatiable hunger for life. In many ways, they resemble the vampires of later European lore, driven by a need to feed on human essence, whether it be blood or soul.

What’s so captivating about these ancient tales is the way they hint at a primal fear—of death, of the unknown, of things that cannot be controlled or stopped. Whether it’s the Baobhan Sith roaming the Highlands or a revenant rising from a forgotten grave, the vampire figure in Celtic and Scottish mythology is a reminder that not all threats come from outside. Some of the most terrifying forces are those that were once human, twisted by death into something darker.

So while Bram Stoker’s Dracula might be the poster child for vampires in popular culture, the roots of blood-drinking, life-stealing creatures run much deeper and wilder, reaching into the misty realms of Scottish and Celtic lore. Next time you're wandering through a dark, lonely glen or passing by ancient standing stones, remember—there might be more than just the wind watching you from the shadows.