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About the author:
When I’m not writing I create small indulgences to share with others, for the kitchen, for the body and from my garden. I share my recipes at my site – I hope you enjoy them too.
What inspired you to write your book?
That’s how the story started. It’s short but I had so much fun that Darien’s adventure continued in a series, ‘A Satyr Downunder’. I just wish he’d step out of fantasy into real life…
Here is a short sample from the book:
Minty arrived at work early the next morning. Everything was perfect but she liked to have a last minute check. Just in case. She walked through the galleries looking for anything out of place and passed the pedestal where the Grecian vase sat. She stopped and looked for the satyr. The place where he should have been standing was empty.
Minty frowned and walked around the pedestal, peering at the vase from every angle. Maybe somebody had turned it around, although no one should have touched it except her. She stood for a moment, confused. She hadn’t imagined the satyr, or imagined placing her finger upon her lips and upon the engraving. But where was he? She’d never hallucinated from exhaustion before, no matter how stressed she was. The sooner she finished her art history studies and took a break, the better. She picked up the catalogue and read the entry for the vase. ‘Pastoral Scene in Arcadia’, the description read. There was no mention of a satyr.
‘I know he was there,’ Minty said to herself. She turned at the sound of an odd noise coming from the next room, as if something was clomping on the polished wooden floor. Minty walked under the connecting arch and stopped dead. A tall man stood in the centre of the Athenian section. He had the broad shoulders and muscular chest of an athlete but it was the rest of him that stunned Minty. She wasn’t sure which bit was the most shocking. His well-muscled legs covered in…fur. His hooves. Or his flat stomach with its soft trail of curly hair that led to a very large, very male appendage. It stuck straight out between his thighs and at the sight of Minty it jerked and stiffened. Minty swung her startled gaze upwards and tried to ignore what was happening between the man’s legs. He had thick dark hair and wore a wreath of vines that set off his beautiful face. His skin was honey-coloured, his features looked like they’d been sculpted by an artist and his mouth was full and wide. But his eyes were the most startling feature of all. They were the clearest blue-green Minty had ever seen and they sparkled with promises that Minty didn’t want to think about.