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Madeleine Oh is a woman of mystery. Some say she is the
granddaughter of an odalisque from the Bey's harem in Algiers, others that her father
was a direct descendant of the line of Welsh princes. It's also been
heard that her parents met whilst working for the French Resistance
during WW2 and there have even been claims that she was born on a
farm in Ohio. Perhaps all of this is is utter fiction. But truth or
fiction, readers love her wildly imaginative erotic tales.

Tales from
Lachmuirghan
Welcome to Lachmuirghan, where fantasies come
true.
You may have trouble finding Lachmuirghan on a map. That’s because
it exists only in our imaginations. Hidden in this secret valley,
Lachmuirghan can be whatever you want it to be.
Imagine a sheltered valley and loch somewhere in the west of
Scotland. At the head of the valley is an ancient circle of standing
stones; at the lower end stands a ruined castle overlooking the
bustling village center.
As you explore, suddenly you notice things are not quite as they
should be. The village is the same, yet somehow changed. You notice
that you have also changed—your senses are more alive than you’ve
ever known. You stand at a strange yet familiar crossroad. Out of
the mist, a voice calls your name.
Where will you go? And to whom? In this fantasy world, the choice is
completely yours.
Excerpt
You may have trouble finding Lachmuirghan on maps and
atlases. And you would be quite right, because
Lachmuirghan doesn’t exist—except here and now. So come
with us on a stroll around our secret valley…
Imagine a sheltered valley and loch somewhere in the
west of Scotland. At the head of the valley is an
ancient circle of standing stones; at the lower end
stands a ruined castle overlooking the village center of
Lachmuirghan.
Among the narrow streets and the gray stone cottages,
you’ll find a cluster of shops: a general store, a
butcher, a greengrocer and a narrow shop selling curios
and antique jewelry. Up the street a little way, just
past the garage, is the village bookshop that in these
times also stocks DVDs, tapes and CDs. Up the hill,
you’ll find The God in the Valley, one of two village
pubs. The other is The Royal Rescue, on the riverbank.
The God in the Valley is the larger and caters to
visitors and locals alike. Upstairs are three bedrooms
which the landlord rents out when the fancy takes him.
Very fortunate indeed is a visitor who spends a night at
The God in the Valley. And if a weary visitor passes by
The God, at the top of the village, surrounded by
heather gardens and rockeries, is the Lachmuirghan
Guesthouse: a large, imposing stone building.
Why these quaint names? Local legend claims The Royal
Rescue was used as a hiding place for the Young
Pretender during his escape to France, and the oldest
part of the building does indeed date from the early
eighteenth century. The God in the Valley refers to a
much, much older legend. Some say that millennia ago the
whole valley was constructed by a sea god for the human
woman he loved. He set the stones at one end to serve as
her calendar, provided a sweet freshwater stream,
blessed the land with extraordinary fertility so she
would never hunger, and surrounded the valley with magic
to protect her from ills. But cruel fate intervened, she
drowned in the river, and as she had refused the gift of
immortality he had offered her, the god could not save
her. Brokenhearted, the god wept for five years,
flooding the valley where he’d buried his love, and then
left, never to set foot in the valley again. But many
say the magic remains…
Who knows if this is truth or myth? Certainly the loch
is slightly saline, but the river leading off it is
freshwater—an anomaly that has long mystified scientists
and geographers. The fields and hills around are
extremely fertile, the climate warmer and more temperate
than the surrounding areas. The villagers are healthy
and long lived and the air is clear and invigorating.
You notice this particularly as you stroll through the
village. You pass several villagers who smile and wish
you a good day: a young woman pushing a toddler in a
stroller, two women talking in front of a cottage, a
good-looking, dark-haired man carrying a knapsack, who
smiles at you as you pass. A dog barks through a garden
gate.
Walk up through the village, towards the hills. Once
past the last cottages, pause and look around you. In
the shifting light, it seems the village changes. Is
that a ruined church, not a stone circle? And are those
dark shapes along the loch rocks or caves? It seems the
mountains are closer and grayer—perhaps the mist plays
tricks on the eye.
Or does Lachmuirghan change as you watch? The abandoned
manor house you passed at the end of the village now
appears to be a castle, complete with battlements and a
ruined tower. The road back towards the village surely
has more twists and turns than you remembered. Where did
that farmhouse in the distance appear from? Surely it
wasn’t there a moment ago?
Returning to the village, anticipating a glass of
something alcoholic at The God in the Valley, you notice
a small teashop offering honey cakes and sweet cream
that you missed on the way up. In front, two women stand
talking, but their skirts are long and one wears a
bonnet and the other a knitted shawl. A little way on,
you meet the young woman, no longer wearing blue jeans
and T-shirt, but long skirts and pushing a large pram.
She smiles as before, and mentions that Angus is waiting
for you at The God in the Valley.
Before you can ask who “Angus” is and how he knows you,
she turns down a narrow side street and disappears.
Meanwhile you notice the garage is a smithy and farrier,
and several more shops have appeared: a baker, a wool
and haberdashery shop and McGreerly’s Apothecary.
Lachmuirghan has changed and so have you. Your hair is
longer, tied back with a ribbon. You’re walking faster,
and as you go along, you catch sounds and scents you
missed before: bread baking, soup simmering, roses in a
garden, a kettle whistling on a stove, a child singing,
a baby crying and a man telling his love what he plans
when the bairns are fast asleep. Blushing a little, you
walk on feeling a trifle envious, until you remember the
mysterious Angus waiting for you. Ahead the sign for The
God in the Valley rocks in the breeze. Outside sits the
man you passed earlier, watching you. Is he what you
want? Do you dare? Would it be safer to duck into the
bookshop and get lost among the stacks and shelves? Or
why not nip down a narrow side street which catches your
eye? A side street that appears to lead down to the
shore where the sun glints on the water. As you stand
trying to decide, a voice calls your name from a window
across the street.
Where will you go? And to whom? The choice is completely
yours. Explore the village with us, and live out your
fantasy.
Visit Madeleine's web site (www.madeleineoh.com) to join
her yahoolist .
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