Irish Strength: The Irish Treasures Saga, #1

By Amanda Meredith

Long ago, before men came to the shores of Ireland, there lived a race of gods who fought a great evil to keep their island from sinking into the sea. Knowing men were destined to rule the land they loved, the gods created four great treasures to guard their beloved isle should the great evil rise to destroy it once more. Thousands of years would come to pass before the treasures were needed, before man would have to fight, to save Ireland from destruction.

Morgan MacQuill flees America with her newborn son, running from an abusive husband. She finds herself in Ireland, with family she never knew existed. She soon discovers a heritage and power kept hidden from her and a destiny that will change her life forever.

Quinn MacGreen has dreamed of a mysterious blonde woman his entire life. He meets his new neighbor, Morgan, and is shocked to see she has stepped out of his dreams and into reality. He struggles to accept his fate while protecting the woman he doesn't want to fall in love with. Morgan's estranged husband begins a deadly search for her and Quinn must do everything in his power to keep them safe.

When an ancient evil returns to destroy the world, Morgan and Quinn must work together to guard a great treasure forged by Celtic gods. Morgan's past collides with the evil they are battling and the mythical war they are fighting becomes personal.

With a mix of magic, suspense and plenty of romance, Irish Strength will take you on a journey that turns myth into reality and proves that love really is the most powerful magic of all.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Amanda Meredith
• Release date: Aug 20, 2013
• ISBN: 9781492107484

Amanda Meredith

I was born in Bay City, Texas in 1985 but grew up in a small town in Central Illinois. My husband and I have three children and now live in Colorado. From an early age, I was passionate about the written word. I LOVE to write. Romance, to be specific. I love the happily ever after that, I believe, everyone deserves. My stories aren't the 'stop and smell the roses' type romances. While I believe everyone deserves happiness and true love, I know that sometimes you have to walk a hard road to find it. Those are the types of stories I like to write. The happily ever after that wasn't found: It was earned. I work to earn mine on a daily basis and so do my characters.  When I'm not writing, I ride horses, play acoustic guitar, sing, read like I get paid for it, and support a rather distracting addiction to Pinterest.  I love to cook, which combined with my pinning addiction, leads to many experiments foisted on my unsuspecting husband and kids, with mostly good results

Book preview

Prologue

Vivid green hills and hazy coastlines surrounded her. The spirit of the land filled her up, erasing her fears and regrets. The rain-washed, stone fences dotted the rolling hills, making jagged lines along the landscape. The crashing waves on the rocky shoreline echoed like thunder.

She dreamt of a stone circle, frightening yet comforting, glowing with an unseen light. In her dream, she had stepped into the circle and off the edge of the world. She was floating in a place where there was no time, no direction, and no sound.

She opened her eyes and stood in the cool grass within the circle, moonlight illuminating her body. White candles flickered around her and a breeze whispered across her skin. She remembered the pain and the sorrow like a distant dream, but in the circle, she could feel only safety and joy. The night was warm as she lifted her face to the stars above her. She began to chant, the ancient words echoing off the stones.

When she looked down, he was standing at the stone’s edge. His golden eyes were warm with desire as he waited for her to invite him in. Finally, she opened her arms to him and he stepped into the circle, the fabric of his clothing whispering as he moved. Fire flickered in his footprints as he walked, leaving a glowing trail of heat. Stars shot across the sky while the wind whipped up around them, as he wrapped his arms around her lithe body.

The ground shook when her lips met his, desire coursing through them, burning to touch, to take. He lowered her slowly to the ground as the glow around them became brighter. She had known he was coming and was ready for him. Fate had brought them to this sacred ground and she had accepted that. She smiled as she opened herself up to him, knowing she could not stop destiny.

Chapter 1

Morgan MacQuill woke up with a start. She shivered, still smelling the dew on the grass. It wasn’t the first time she had dreamt of that circle and certainly not the first time she had seen the same handsome stranger in the dream. Shaking her head to clear it, she looked at the clock, seeing that it was still a few hours until dawn.

She flopped back down onto the bed and turned to stare at the empty pillow beside her. The man that should be sleeping beside her wasn’t the man from her dreams. Far from it. She angrily brushed away her tears; she wouldn’t cry for him, not anymore. Any feelings she had once had for him had faded away, along with the bruises.

He had been her first love, but as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes she told herself that the man she had loved was gone, if he had ever been there at all.

She swung her bare feet out of the bed and tiptoed quietly to the next room. The makeshift nursery in her Aunt’s spare bedroom was not the perfect room she had imagined for her child but at least they weren’t living in fear of being beaten. Morgan looked down at her sleeping son and smiled. She had run away from Jonathan, not just for herself, but for her baby. They were safe, at least for now.

* * * * *

She had met Jonathan at a party celebrating Texas A&M’s newest crop of students obtaining doctorates in veterinary medicine. Morgan had worked and struggled her way through eight years of college, graduating with honors. Jonathan’s father was an A&M alumni and proud financial donor to the animal sciences program. He threw a party every year. Jonathan had also graduated from A&M before moving on to Harvard Law. Working for his father’s big Houston firm, he had come to the event to show support.

Morgan had been sipping champagne and chatting with another student when she had spotted him. He was moving through the room like a predator on the hunt. His dark hair was smoothed back, highlighting his  thin and angular face. He was quite handsome, yet there was a dangerous appeal to his looks. Morgan had only glanced at him for a second before returning her attention to the conversation.

She had missed him seeing her from across the room. He had stopped, looking her over like a prized mare, before swallowing the rest of his champagne. He sauntered across the room, grabbing two more flutes from a waiter before coming up to Morgan. He stood close, too close, his leg brushing up against hers. Startled, she lost track of what she had been saying and turned towards him.

You look like you need a refill. He held up the flute of champagne, a smile on his face. Morgan blushed, taking a small step back and accepted the glass from him.

Thank you, she hesitated, not knowing his name.

Jonathan Richmond, he answered, giving her a mock bow. She smiled at his charm and held out her hand.

Morgan MacQuill, she told him as he took her hand and instead of shaking it, brought it to his lips. She blushed again as he kissed her hand. You must be Gerald Richmond’s son.

The one and only, he replied, still holding Morgan’s hand.

I hope you’ll pass on my gratitude to your father, Mr. Richmond.

Jonathan. Please, he interrupted, rubbing his fingers across her knuckles. What would the thanks be for? he asked, eyes narrowing slightly. Morgan cleared her throat, the excuse she needed to get her hand back.

For his generous donations to the animal science program, she explained, still blushing. The Richmond Grant is what made it possible for me to finish vet school.

Ah, so you’re the recipient of the grant, he replied, his eyes lightening. I’m impressed already. They only give that grant to the very best students. Morgan smiled and shrugged her shoulders. MacQuill, he tested the name again. Ah, yes. I remember. You’ve been top of your class since your freshman year. Morgan’s blush deepened. I’m on the grant committee, you see, Jonathan explained. Your application was quite impressive. I had a feeling there was something special about you.

Then it appears I should be thanking you as well, Morgan teased as she sipped her champagne.

How about dinner instead of thanks? Jonathan asked while he stepped closer to her again. Tomorrow night, eight o’clock. We’ll celebrate your success.

Morgan wanted to say no, feeling slightly uneasy as he sidled closer to her. She took another sip of her champagne and decided to take a chance.

I think I’d like that, she answered. She hadn’t even noticed that he had slipped his arm possessively around her waist.

*  * * * *

Morgan had believed she was in love with him. He had come into her life and quickly swept her off her feet. They had dated less than a year before they were married. He had talked her out of working, insisting she stay home manage their new house. She’d been so stupid.

The first few months of her marriage, she had noticed Jonathan’s temper worsening. She began to feel that she deserved the outbursts that made her cower from his threats and anger.

One day, she had arrived home late from an appointment. There had been a major accident on the freeway and she’d been stuck in traffic for an hour before she could exit and take another route home.

Jonathan had met her at the door in a storm of fury. He became so angry that he shoved her into the foyer closet and locked the door. She screamed and pounded on the door, terrified of the dark, cramped space. Her screams turned to sobs, then to whimpers, and when Jonathan finally unlocked the door five hours later, she was huddled quietly on the floor. She mumbled apologies as she slipped past him. She stopped being so afraid after the fourth time he locked her in there.

The first time he hit her was six months after their wedding. They were hosting a dinner for the law firm partners at their home. Wanting to feel like she could actually do something, she had decided not to cater the dinner, instead cooking it herself.

Jonathan had told their guests that dinner would be served at seven but at a quarter after, Morgan was just taking the main course out of the oven. No one in the dining room noticed the time, too busy enjoying a $500 bottle of wine. But Jonathan had noticed.

Morgan was moving the serving platter to the counter when he had come into the kitchen, slowly shutting the door behind him. He strode across the marble floor to her and before she had time to react, had slapped her. Her head whipped to the side, sending the platter flying from her hands and shattering on the floor.

What the fuck is taking you so long? he growled while his hand tightened on her wrist. Morgan couldn’t breathe, still reeling from the impact of his hand. You said seven, Morgan. Seven! He shook her, making her teeth rattle.

I’m sorry, she stuttered, tears streaking down her face. It’s done now... I was just getting ready to serve it.

I expect better than this, Morgan, he scolded, his eyes dark. "Do not disappoint me again."

I... I won’t, she stuttered. I promise. The kitchen door swung open and one of the wife of one of the partners sauntered in, her blonde curls bouncing.

We’re out of wine, Morgan, she chirped, waving the empty bottle. She saw Morgan’s tear-stained face and set the bottle on the counter. Is everything ok? she asked, looking from Morgan to Jonathan.

Just fine, Jonathan answered his voice no longer dark. He lifted Morgan’s wrist to kiss her hand as if he’d been planning to do it all along. Morgan only dropped a platter. It was a wedding gift, so she’s a bit upset. He eyed Morgan and she swallowed, nodding her head in agreement. I’ll get the wine, dear, he said, his voice as sweet as honey. Marilyn, would you mind taking it out for me? The woman nodded, still watching Morgan with concern. She took the bottle from Jonathan and left the kitchen, the door closing softly behind her.

Jonathan turned back to Morgan, reaching a hand up to her face. She flinched, but he only wiped a tear away with his finger.

Clean up this mess, he murmured. She nodded, unable to speak as she watched Jonathan leave the kitchen. She looked down at her shaking hands, seeing marks from his fingerprints, forming on her wrist. With a new surge of tears, she bent down and began picking up the pieces of shattered glass.

Chapter 2

The open-handed slaps became commonplace and it wasn’t long before they became punches. Morgan found herself covering up large bruises with long sleeves and makeup.

A month after their first anniversary, she found out that she was pregnant. She hadn’t wanted a baby, the thought that Jonathan would treat their child the same way that he treated her, had ended any thoughts of motherhood she might have had, but Jonathan had thrown away her birth control, and she hadn’t been able to prevent it. When she told him, he kissed her sweetly and whispered loving words in her ear.

From the moment she told him, he stopped hitting her. He was the Jonathan that she had fallen for again. Morgan was nearly able to forget all the horrible things he had done to her. She thought that the pregnancy had changed him. She began smiling again and anxiously awaited the birth of their baby.

Eight months later, she realized she had been wrong. Jonathan had been working very late recently, and when he came home, he was exhausted and frustrated. It had been abnormally hot and dry for fall, and Morgan thought that maybe the weather was making him miserable. He assured her that a big case the firm was working on was causing his mood changes and brushed off Morgan’s concern.

Morgan had been out shopping for the baby and not paying attention, had bumped into someone. While apologizing, she realized it was one of the partners from Jonathan’s law firm.

I hope you’re making progress on the big embezzlement case, Morgan commented after they chatted briefly. I just hate to see Jonathan working so late, especially around Thanksgiving. I had hoped it would be finished by now.

Embezzlement case? he asked with a blank stare. We aren’t working on any... he trailed off, mouth slightly gaping. I’m sorry Mrs. Richmond. I’ve got to get home, he excused himself quickly and walked away without waiting for Morgan’s reply.

The next day while doing laundry, Morgan noticed a smear of lipstick on the collar of Jonathan’s shirt. For the slightest second she thought that the shade of lipstick she wore wasn’t possibly that dark, but pushed the thought away as she continued to sort the laundry. When she pulled the wet clothes out of the washer, she noticed something dark hanging from the pocket of his pants.

Worried that she had washed something meant for the drycleaner's, she pulled the trousers away from the pile of wet clothes and took the dark material from the pocket. She held up the lacy black thong and her face paled as she quickly realized that she didn’t own any underwear that looked like that.

Anger began to boil up inside her as she thought of the lipstick on Jonathan’s collar and the odd way he had smelled when he had gotten home long after dinner had gone cold. Any fear she may have had of him became overshadowed by her fury as a scorned wife.

Outside the house, the clouds turned black and lightning flashed with sharp cracks of thunder. There had been a severe drought in Texas for over a year now and there had been no signs of rain in the forecast. The storm had come out of nowhere, seeming to match Morgan’s anger.

Grabbing the wet shirt and the lacy underwear, she stomped down the hallway and threw open the door to Jonathan’s study. Jonathan looked up from his papers at his wife’s red face and heaving chest.

What is it, Morgan? he asked, not bothering to hide the annoyance in his voice.

I should be asking you that question, she sneered, throwing the wet clothing onto his expensive, antique desk. You bastard.

Jonathan sighed as he looked over the wet clothes now lying on his case files. Morgan, he warned as he slowly stood up.

Who is she? Morgan shouted, her rage bubbling over. Outside, the wind began to howl. Who is she? she screamed again.

Jonathan sighed again, taking the wet clothes from his desk and tossing them to the floor. No one of importance, he answered nonchalantly, wiping his hands on a silk handkerchief. Just someone I like to fuck when I get bored with you.

Morgan flinched at his vulgar words. You were with her last night, her face paled as she whispered. Jonathan just smiled wickedly and folded his hands. And then you... she trailed off, the color completely draining from her.

Yes, he answered with a smile. And then I fucked you. Morgan tried to swallow the bile rising in her throat at how utterly disgusting it was. She slowly backed out of the office as Jonathan moved around his desk and began walking towards her.

I’m not sure which of you is better, he told her as he crossed the room. You seemed to enjoy it, at least. He paused and tucked the handkerchief back in his pocket. "Though my secretary is better with the more adventurous things. He grinned as Morgan backed into the far wall of the hallway. He had never spoken to her like this. She was disgusted and ashamed, thinking this was no man coming towards her, but a monster. I assume that she has had more practice than you, my dear."

Morgan jumped as he tried reaching for her. She scrambled down the hallway, holding her belly as she ran. She went into the bedroom and locked the door behind her, looking for an escape from a world that had gone suddenly and horribly wrong. The pounding on the door had her screaming in terror as she looked for a way to get out of the bedroom.

Let me in, Morgan, Jonathan growled from the other side of the door.

No, she shouted, tears streaming down her face. Leave me alone!

Open this door, right now, he yelled, pounding on the door with renewed vigor. Morgan was backing away from it, scared beyond what she thought possible. She looked around the room and when she saw the phone, she knew that she would have to call for help.

When the pounding on the door turned to the loud thud of Jonathan trying to break it in, Morgan’s mind went completely blank. Her fingers were shaking so badly that she was pressing too many numbers.

"We’re sorry, the number you have dialed is not valid. Please check the number and try your call again," the mechanical voice trilled in the receiver as she frantically tried to dial again.

The doorjamb splintered as Jonathan finally kicked the door in. As he stepped into the room, the phone slid out of Morgan’s hand. Fearing for her life and the life of her baby, Morgan made a frantic dash for the doorway. Jonathan swung his arm out as she tried to pass, catching her in the throat. She flew backwards, blacking out as her body slammed to the floor.

* * * * *

When her eyes fluttered open, she could make out the flashing blades of the ceiling fan as it spun lazily above her. She groaned as she felt a sharp pain in her abdomen. Her eyes shot open as Jonathan’s face hovered over hers.

What’s the matter, dear? he asked he unzipped his jeans. Shaking her head groggily, she tried weakly to push away his hands. What? Is it too repulsive to make love to your husband? He cocked his head before pushing away her hands. Don’t make this any harder, he chuckled wickedly, making her stomach turn. No pun intended. She tried to lift herself to slide away but her arms gave way as the pain in her stomach spread to her back.

Jonathan, she gasped, as he pushed her dress up over her hips. The baby! She tried pushing away from him again. Something’s wrong with the baby!

No excuses, Morgan, he growled, pushing down his pants. She felt his erection against her leg and almost threw up. She pushed at him, fear making her frantic. What? You don’t like sharing me with my secretary? he asked. I’m sure I could arrange for us to all get together then. Would you like that better, darling? he asked, pinning down her arms.

Unable to fight him, Morgan looked in his dark, cold eyes and did the only thing left she could do. She spit in his face. Shock, surprise and then pure rage filtered across his features before he sharply backhanded her. The metallic taste of her own blood filled her mouth as she bucked beneath him.

What? You’re too good for that, you little bitch? he asked, wiping off his face. I’ll show you what you’re good for, he growled before shoving himself inside her. She cried out at the pain it brought and the shock of being forced by her own husband. Tears flooded her eyes as he began to move with brutal, sharp strokes. Each thrust brought more pain, pushing Morgan into a dark, numbing oblivion. The pain in her belly became a deadening sensation as she felt her heart break into a million, cold pieces.

When Jonathan rolled off her, she lay unmoving as she felt his hot seed leaving her body. She heard him pulling up his pants and fastening his belt.

Go clean yourself, he scolded, looking down at her with disgust. I think I’m going to go see my secretary now. He smiled when she moaned in response. I’ll be gone for the weekend. He slammed the broken door behind him, leaving her lying on the floor.

Morgan shakily got to her feet and limped her way to the bathroom. The dripping between her legs had become a constant trickle and when she looked down at where she had been raped, she saw Jonathan’s seed mixed with a pool of bright, red blood. The blood trailed in a steady path to where she was now standing. Looking down in dull shock, she watched it stream down her legs to the floor.

Heart racing, she walked gingerly to the bathroom and desperately tried to clean off her legs. Realizing that the blood wasn’t slowing, she grabbed a pad from underneath the sink stuffed it in her underwear. Putting on a pair of pants, she gingerly walked back into the bedroom. When she saw the mess on the floor, she had to stop herself from going to get the mop. Jonathan would beat her when he saw the stain.

Grabbing her already packed hospital bag, she wobbled down the hallway to the connecting garage door. Climbing slowly into her car, Morgan shook off the dizziness. Backing out of the driveway, she began the drive to the hospital through the cold rain, knowing that she was going alone.

Chapter 3

Thunder boomed outside of the windows as tears ran down her face. Lightning flashed again when she screamed, as another contraction ripped through her. Nurses and doctors rushed in and out, changing IVs, checking vitals. They passed worried looks to each other as they helped Morgan breathe through the pain. The bleeding hadn’t stopped and though the baby wasn't yet showing signs of distress, Morgan was beginning to weaken.

She ground her teeth as the pain rippled through her abdomen. She wanted to curse Jonathan, for what he had done, what he was doing to her now, but she couldn’t bring herself to speak. She was too exhausted to fight the despair that was threatening to swallow her.

In the hall, a woman argued with the desk nurse. Ma’am, you’re not on the list, the nurse stated.

"Well she didn’t know I was coming, but I’m here now, so I’ll be