5 Facts Thursday – Meet Caltha Dooran, a shapeshifting mermaid from Mermaids Marry in Green
5 facts about Caltha Dooran - heroine of Mermaids Marry in Green
· 1. She’s a shape shifting mermaid, from an ancient race who have lived incognito among humans for centuries, protected by their ability to change into human shape at will.
· 2. In her aquatic shape she is silver grey, with webbed hands and feet, sharp teeth, and a tail – but not a fish tail!
· 3. She became ruler of the Dooran Clan when her mother died, then assumed responsibility for all the Clans, because no one else can stop them from killing each other.
· 4. She’s a tough fighter, very handy with a blade.
· 5. She has heavy responsibilities, and no time for romance… until a hot warlock turns up!
Caltha Dooran is the toughest, fiercest shape-shifting mermaid in the western seas. She has three Clans to rule, and no time for romance. But when a warlock, Jonty, turns up and asks her to come with him to London to capture a water monster, she can't say no. In London, away from her duties, her attraction for Jonty grows... and they soon fall under each other's spell. But will his past and her responsibilities pull them apart, or can they find the only true magic, the one that binds two souls together?
The pod shuddered and glided forward. The Houses of Parliament rose before Caltha, drawing her gaze like a magnet. “They’re so beautiful!”
“Like you.” Jonty’s words, low and husky, seemed to fill the space, pushing the air out. Caltha’s breath hitched in her throat. She turned around.
Jonty gave her a wicked grin. “I have another spell for you. I think you’ll like it.”
Her entire body responded like a bird to the bird catcher’s whistle. Like a moth to a flame. But her conscience wasn’t done yet, and it prodded her one more time, murmuring that she was about to do something very wrong. She knew she still had time to change her mind. She could rush to the door, gesture to the attendant on the other side, and ask to be let out. She could remain the good, dutiful, pure mermaid that her mother had raised her to be.
A second passed. Another. Jonty leant against the glass wall. His eyes burned into her, and her last hesitations turned into ashes. Her mother had enjoyed a good marriage. She had known love and pleasure. So why should Caltha deny herself the same joys? She wanted to know what it was like to love and be loved, even if it was just for one night.
The pod ascended into the night sky. Lights danced over, under, and around her. It was as if London was surrounding her with its own magic, urging her to surrender to it. They were rising, leaving all shame below. She was the moth, and he was the flame.
Sometimes, the moth just wants to burn.
She licked her lips. “Show me your magic, warlock.”
Jonty raised a hand and traced a pattern in the air. He murmured words in a language Caltha didn’t understand. She waited, her breath trapped between her lungs and her lips, anticipation tightening every muscle in her body. She stared hard at the space between them, but nothing appeared.
Disappointment lanced her. “Where is the spell?”
Jonty’s rich, deep chuckle rolled over her. “Who says magic has to be seen?”
He clicked his fingers. Something brushed Caltha’s cheek. She raised a hand to shoo the insect away, but her hand only found emptiness. Jonty’s eyes dropped to her chest. Caltha’s shirt pressed itself against her skin and moved up and down against her, as if an invisible hand were stroking her. The fabric rubbed against her nipples, and they hardened instantly, making her breasts ache with need. She spread out her arms and grabbed the metal bar that ran around the pod. “Oh.”
“Do you like that?” Jonty’s wolfish grin widened. The atmosphere in the pod was charged with magic. She could almost see it now, a shimmering current arcing from his body to hers.
“Yes. I like it,” she whispered.
“Do you want more?”
The gleam in his eyes encouraged her, urged her on. She arched her back, offering herself to the supernatural caress. “Yes!”
“Tell me where you want it.” He moved his fingers. Now the invisible hands were massaging her breasts, pinching each nipple in turn, and every stroke added to the delicious pressure building in her core.
“Between my legs … please…” She was begging him, and it should have made her feel ashamed. She had never begged a man for anything, ever. Instead, her helplessness only excited her more. She was like the woman in the film, spread-eagled on the bed, submitting to her warlock’s power. She parted her legs as far as she could and braced herself against the wall. The pod was still rising, and her need was rising with it, pulsating between her thighs. Still the sweet torture went on … and on… She wanted more … she wanted release. Frustration gnawed at her and a soft moan escaped her mouth.
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