This little tale was my first ever erotic romance to be published and will be ten years old later this year! However, it is still available at Amber Quill Press (www.amberquill.com/AmberHeat/bio_odare.html) although I may withdraw it before long. Anyway, I was inspired by a strong tie to the Greek Goddess Diana and by reading a classic little book of Greek Mythology many, many years ago, my first acquaintance with myth and its uuual mayhem! I’ve since moved on to many mythologies of different races and ethnic groups. They all form a wonderfully fertile source of inspiration for the writer or romance and erotica!

Karola’s Hunt by Deirdre O’Dare

Totally innocent, Karola, daughter of Diana has grown up in the forest, raised by nymphs, dryads and kelpies and living among the wild creatures. She does not even know that others like her””only excitingly different!””exist in the world until a day’s hunt takes her path across that of a youth from a village beyond her woods”¦ This is the story of her adventure.

Excerpt:

Karola, daughter of Diana, knew this forest. She knew every tree and rock, every glade and glen of it. The forest was the only home she had known. This day she had gone out with her bow and a quiver of arrows, more to be roaming free than seriously hunting. But this was the day she found him in her woods.

Child of a careless mother, or perhaps merely a busy one, she had been reared as much by the Dryads and Kelpies as by her mother. Of her father Karola knew nothing at all…in truth not even that she had one.

Spring was newly come to her forest the day she met the stranger. Birds trilled among the delicate new leaves, while rabbits and squirrels chased one another through the flowering bushes in carefree joy. Although Karola had heard there were others of her kind, she had seen none of them. Living wild and free as she did, she’d had no chance. Thus, this strange creature fascinated her at first sight.

Like her, he had two legs and two arms, walking upright instead of on all fours like the beasts. But there, the resemblance between them ended. Where she was rounded, he tended to be hard and flat. His limbs were roped with muscle, and much more massive than hers were. A pelt of soft, curly hair covered the lower part of his face, and a matching mat decorated his brawny chest. He had bright blue eyes that sparkled like a dancing stream and all his hair was a beautiful tawny hue lit with highlights of fire.

Karola crept close to him, moving cautiously as she would approach a wild beast, not sure what to expect. Normally, she moved in cat-footed silence, but with her attention focused on the stranger, she stepped on a twig. When it broke with a sharp crack, he whirled to face her, grabbing for the short sword sheathed at his side. He stopped the motion when she stepped from behind a tree.

Unabashed, she stared at him. At close range he was even more beautiful than she had first recognized. Suddenly, Karola knew she had been lonely, wishing for a friend. Perhaps she had now found one. “Hello. My name is Karola. Who are you that hunts in my forest?”

“Who gave you leave to call this forest yours? I have always hunted here. My name is Damien. I dwell in the village of Athenara, a long morning’s walk away.”

She did not think it odd that he spoke her language for she knew of no other. But he spoke with an accent that, at first, sounded strange to her ears. His voice was lower than hers and deeper, almost a rumble. And he spoke of strange things.

“Village? What is a village?”

At this, he raised one straw-hued eyebrow and looked at her with disbelief. “By the gods, girl, do you not know what a village is? Where have you been all your life? A village–well, it is a place where many people live close together, each family or couple in their own hut. There is a well from which we all draw water. There are fields and pasture around, enough for everyone’s crops and beasts. My father is the head man of our village.”

Tiring of this complicated talk, most of which had little meaning for her, Karola gave him a teasing glance and darted off. If the rabbits and squirrels could play such chasing games, perhaps she and Damien could too. In an instant, Damien was hot on her heels.

For a time they played, as young folk were likely to do, running and contesting. Karola found Damien was able to run even faster than she ran, although she was fleet of foot. He threw a stone almost as far unaided as she could with her sling, but she shot her arrows much farther and straighter than he could. They laughed about this, although she sensed his pride was nipped by her superior skill in archery.

“I’ve been shooting arrows all my life,” she said to mollify him. “It is no shame to you that I can outdo you in this. My mother is the Huntress. She made my bow and arrows and schooled me in their use.”

He looked at her dubiously. “The Huntress? But that is the goddess Diana! You cannot be her daughter. ‘Tis said she is a virgin…that no man or god has ever lain with her so how can she have a child?”

Karola shrugged. “I do not understand all you are saying, but my mother is the Huntress. She told me so. And you cannot catch me this time.”

Again they ran, dodging among the trees and leaping fallen logs and rivulets until they were both breathless and sweating. Their running brought them to a tiny grass meadow cut in twain by a sparkling stream, which meandered over a bed of pale sand and white pebbles. Karola knelt by the stream, cupping water in her hands to quench her thirst.

“I have something better than water,” Damien said. He drew over his head the cord holding his bota. “Here, this is the honey mead my mother makes…the best in our village.”

Karola took the bota and raised its spout to her lips. She took a cautious sip and then drank deeply. Indeed it was better than water, sweet yet tart on her tongue. She licked her lips, savoring the pungent taste. “Ah, that is good! I could drink it all day.”

Watching her, Damien laughed. “You had best save some for me,” he warned. “If you are not used to it, too much will make you dizzy.”

Karola took a final swallow and handed the bota back. Damien took but one deep drink then slung the container over his shoulder again. He looked around the meadow and then started for the shady spot beneath a towering tree.

“Come. Let us rest in the shade for a while. It is too hot today for more running.”