Balor's Landing (MFF) (MM)

Romance in War

Luminosity Publishing

Heat Rating: Sextreme
Word Count: 34,500
0 Ratings (0.0)

Can Eleanor’s or Maeve’s hold on Callum keep him on Toraigh? But which woman will succeed in claiming his heart?

Living on the island of Toraigh off the Irish mainland, Eleanor Talmhach loves to listen to the old tales of Gaelic mythology. Each day she walks the cliffs near her home making her way to a beach where a rock outcrop, known as ‘Balor’s Landing’, juts out to sea.

One morning in September 1944 she sees what looks like a beached seal, but on closer inspection reveals a human face.

Canadian born, Callum Farrell, a survivor of the merchant ship Empire Heritage sunk by a German U-boat, is washed ashore following a storm. He is nursed back to health by the doctor and Eleanor’s mother.

Also living at the house is a distant cousin named Maeve, who left London a few years earlier when the Blitz raged.

As Callum recovers, he realizes he is falling in love with both women, making it hard for him to leave the island. The problem is, which of the two will manage to claim his heart?

Reader Advisory: An Historical Romance containing explicit erotic sex scenes with M/F/F combinations as well as, M/M interactions.

PUBLISHER NOTE: Historical Wartime Romance. M/F/F, M/M. All characters depicted in this work of fiction are 18 years of age or older.

Balor's Landing (MFF) (MM)
0 Ratings (0.0)

Balor's Landing (MFF) (MM)

Romance in War

Luminosity Publishing

Heat Rating: Sextreme
Word Count: 34,500
0 Ratings (0.0)
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Cover Art by Poppy Designs

He was standing at the edge of a high cliff looking down at a small sandy beach. To the right of it, jutting out to sea, was a low, somewhat flat-topped, rocky outcrop. The beach itself, which was constantly being washed by rough waves rolling in, was littered with bits of debris and sea kelp. With him, on either side, stood Maeve and Eleanor, his arms about their waists, holding them close. It was a nice feeling. He’d known them less than a day, but for an unknown reason, it seemed as if he had known them all his life, and they, him.

Despite it being overcast, the air was crisply fresh, and visibility over the grey choppy sea was as clear as if it were on a bright sunny day. Something caught his attention in the not too far distance – a ripple effect on the surface of the water, different from what wind would do to create waves.

“What’s that?” Maeve said, pointing in the direction of where his eyes were also staring.

“What’s what?” Eleanor asked.

Callum turned his head to face her, then placing a hand gently on her chin, adjusted the angle of her face so she could see the phenomena for herself.

“Can you see the ripple on the surface?” he asked, pointing in the same direction, as her younger cousin had done moments before.

“That’s just the wind blowing over the water . . ., isn’t it?’

Callum shook his head.

“Having been at sea for many years, first on my father’s fishing boat, and then, these past twelve months, aboard Empire Heritage, I have learned to observe differences on the water’s surface.” He began to tell her, whilst all the time following the progress of the ripple effect. “You could say that my eyes, and senses, have become attuned in looking out for signs of immediate danger.”

“What sort of danger?” Maeve and Eleanor asked in unison.

“Such as a reef, or sand shoal, which could do irreparable harm to the vessel and, ultimately, the crew.”

“Oh! I see,” Eleanor said; “but that’s not the case here – as far as I know, there are no such things in these waters.”

“Well, certainly not on this side of the island,” Maeve emphasised.

“Then the only other possible explanation for this effect, is that there is something moving just below the surface,” he told them.

“A whale perhaps?” Maeve suggested.

“Maybe. Yet, being a time of war, it might be something much more sinister.”

“Whatever do you mean?” Eleanor asked.

“Well, the worst at sea, at the moment, are the German infamous wolfpacks. Their notorious U-boats roam all along the Atlantic Oceans – south and north; the North Sea, Baltic, as well as the Mediterranean, and God knows where else!” Callum spat out the words as if they were something unpleasant in his mouth.

His thoughts were vindicated when the surface of the water suddenly erupted in the same way a whale would breach it, but in this instance, the dark-grey, almost black-coloured hull of a type VIIC German submarine made its presence known.

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