Folks. This has become a bit disjointed. We need to take a look at the characters, setting, etc. Maybe do some character outlines so we don't accidentally turn Lord Pwyll from an innimical wart brain to a sweet cross dressing pansie.

And where is the DANGGED CAD (oh golfing for gophers....) Anyway here is the whole thing all put together. kinda. There are gaps. the story starts and re-starts and re-starts. Let's read it all and figure out what is going to happen.( Well, in the end bad things will happen to Lord Pwyll, he might even die if this is a one novel deal. Anyway I'm going to try to hae a character sketchof Lord Pwyll by the end of the week. ( Why him? well I'm working on the bad guys in book two and since I'm thinking bad.... badding up Pwyll will help me get a handle on evil....)
But there's Ash, and the pregnant dog and the other guy and people who have been designated 'insert Celtic name here'.

We can do this folks. ( Or maybe we can't. Maybe we're too scatterbrained).....but we'lll never know unless:
Ash was trembling in the wood. Her long red locks drenched by the ceaseless rain. She glanced behind her. She could still hear the baying of Lord Pwyll's hounds, but hoped she'd lost the scent while crossing and re-crossing the icy river.

Elta slowed and panted. Heavy with puppies she had not wanted to leave the warm stable this cold morning. As the rest of the hounds vanished in the mist, she stumbled, catching her hind leg in a root then tumbling into the icy water below..She swam in desperation. She’d lost her last litter to a wolf. Lord Pwyll had been enraged the creature had made it past his defenses, and had hunted the creatures til they no longer trespassed on his lands. Feeling rocks beneath her feet she struggled to the shore.

The sun played tricks on her eyes as she climbed from the arctic waters. The Fae met her on the warmer side of the Sidhe.

Ash listened as the sounds of pursuit faded, and were gone. She had to get to Willow, she thought gripping her soggy skirts in both hands as she set off through the deep darkness of the woods. Willow would know what to do. She always did. Though she was a peasant who lived in a dim cottage with lots of herbs, cats, and funny drawings on her door jams she always had just the thing to get Ash out of trouble. And Boy what trouble she was in.

Lord Pwyll reigned in his horse in anger. The stallion, though used to the rough treatment handed out by his master, almost unseated the man when his head was jerked with uncommon strength.
“Find her you morons!” he exclaimed.
“She may have crossed into the lands of Queen (Insert Celtic Name), brother.” The handsome man(Or insert Celtic Cad name here) with the shining locks walked his horse til he was next to Lord Pwyll.
“Aunt (Insert Celtic NAMe) will have ill words for you once Ash tells her your wishes,” He said, despite his brother’s glare.

"That's why you will find the wench now," he yelled jerking the horse into a rear and riding off into the darkness.
From her hiding spot, Ash stiffled a squeal and crouched low into the peat as Lord pwyll raced by. The men were close. SHe knew there was no avoiding capture, unless, unless...yes...she must open the door to her magic. A door she closed long ago after...best not to think about that. Closing her eyes, she envisioned a steel door and took the key from its hiding spot in her mind and opened it.
Power flowed from her and she quickly cast a protective circle and a cover spell. She cloaked herself in the guise of a shrubbery and waited as the men searched.


The lands of Queen Agrona stretched as far as the eye could see toward every horizon... and Queen Agrona's eyes could see quite far, indeed. Far enough, in fact, to very clearly discern the huddled mass of limp shrubbery who had once been the fair flame-haired Ash.

Agrona's thin lips curled into an evil smile. Everything was going exactly as planned. With a quick snap of her long fingers, she called Mabon to her side.

"How may I serve, Mother?" her darkly handsome son responded.

Agrona cocked a raven brow. "Bring me a shrubbery," she hissed. "But not just any shrubbery! Bring me one that smells of heather and trembles in the forest near Lord Pwyll's fortress! And hurry! Before Pwyll's weak-bladdered dogs find it first!"


Mabon dashed from the not tudor era castle, raven hair shining almost purple in the stark light of day. Galantly he grabbed the reins of his white stallion and jumped on, eager to satisfy his mothers demand and equally as eager to find the formerly-red-haired-witchy-beauty-currently-sagging-soggy-shrubbery, Ash. His loins quivered as he kicked his horse into a gallop. What his mother wanted with Ash, he could not say. As to what HE wanted with Ash, he could write an 80 thousand word count bad pagan romance novel about. THEN find an agent, he swore.

He had watched through grass green eyes as she grew into a woman over the years, it was time to introduce himself. That horse abuser Lord Piles of _____ didn't deserve her. Racing through the woods he.....


Mabon dashed from the not tudor era castle, raven hair shining almost purple in the stark light of day. Galantly he grabbed the reins of his white stallion and jumped on, eager to satisfy his mothers demand and equally as eager to find the formerly-red-haired-witchy-beauty-currently-sagging-soggy-shrubbery, Ash. His loins quivered as he kicked his horse into a gallop. What his mother wanted with Ash, he could not say.

*As to what HE wanted with Ash, he could write an 80 thousand word count bad pagan romance novel about. THEN find an agent, he swore.*

He had watched through grass green eyes as she grew into a woman over the years, it was time to introduce himself. That horse abuser Lord Piles of _____ didn't deserve her. Racing through the woods he.....
tripped and fell into pile of manure. "Sh!t happens," a voice said from behind the trees.


"Who goes there?" he demanded, and would have drawn his sword had he only been able to find it. Idly, he wondered at the size of the dung-pile, and marvelled at the thought of the animal that must have produced it. But perhaps, he reflected, some things were better not to know.

"Show yourself!" he demanded again, a bit recklessly for someone sitting in a steaming pile of poo, with no sword in hand. But he was met only by an eerie, eldritch cackle from the trees.


And three Magpies flying south.
What's the saying about three magpies? He thought to himself as warm dung seeped though his breeches. He got up looking for his horse and finding only a straggly white donkey where his valient steed once stood.
Crap, he thought.
"You will not thwart me," he said, shaking his fist at the retreating magpies. "I will find the formerly-red haired- witchy- beautiful-something about a bush...damnit. I'll find her despite you!"
Limping over to the donkey, he placed his hands on the beasts back preparing to jump aboard, only to find himself once again in the pile of sh.t
From further away, he heard the continuing cackle of...


...Of...well, what was that thing cackling, anyway?
More quickly than he could have said "curiosity killed the cat", Mabon sprang from the dung-pile, determined to get to the bottom of things. (Well, determined to get to the bottom of something other than the dung-pile, anyway; that hadn't worked out so well for him. ) After a few false-starts, he made it onto the back of the donkey-- and to his astonishment, the animal spoke to him.
"Gods, you stink, buddy!"
"Well, I'm sorry, but in case you hadn't noticed, something dumped me in a pile of poo," Mabon replied, and his expression suggested that the donkey wasn't telling him anything he didn't know already.
"Actually, I did notice that. It was pretty funny, in fact."
"Thanks. What say we get out of here, and go look for that redheaded girl?"
"Redheaded girl. Redheaded girl! Is that all you people think about?"
Mabon eyed the donkey curiously. "Whatever are you blathering about?"