title: Blood Faerie: Caledonia Fae - Book 1
author:  India Drummond 
description: India knew from age nine that writing would be her passion. Since then she's discovered many more, but none quite so fulfilling as creating a world, a character, or a moment and watching them evolve into something complex and compelling. She has lived in three countries and four American states, is a dual British and American citizen, and currently lives at the base of the Scottish Highlands in a village so small its main attraction is a red phone box. In other words: paradise. The supernatural and paranormal have always fascinated India. In addition to being an avid sci-fi and fantasy reader, she also enjoys mysteries, thrillers, and romance. This probably explains why her novels have elements of adventure, ghosts (or elves, fairies, angels, aliens, and whatever else she can dream up), and a touch of romance.
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  **Blood Faerie**
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Caledonia Fae, Book 1
  
  
    
  
  
    
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **by India Drummond**
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
    
  
  
    
  
  
    
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **Fae Name Pronunciation Guide**
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _In order of appearance:_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Eilidh: _AY-lee_
  
  
  
  
  
  Cridhe: _CREED_
  
  
  
  
  
  Imire: _em-IRE_
  
  
  
  
  
  Saor: _SAY-or_
  
  
  
  
  
  Dudlach: _DOOD-lawk_
  
  
  
  
  
  Krostach: _CROST-ack_
  
  
  
  
  
  Beniss: _BEN-iss_
  
  
  
  
  
  Oron: _oh-RON_
  
  
  
  
  
  Galen: _GAY-len_
  
  
  
  
  
  Genoa: _JEN-oh-uh_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **Chapter 1**
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Eilidh detected the greasy scent of evil moments before she heard the scream
  below. She perched in St Paul’s steeple, watching Perth’s late night pub-
  crawlers through rotting slats. The scurrying footfalls of humans did not hold
  her interest, nor did the seeping ruby blood that spread quickly over the
  flat, grey paving stones. Instead, her eyes turned north along Methven Street,
  seeking the source of that familiar smell.
  
  
  Evil smelled like nothing else, worse than a rotting corpse, worse than sewage
  and 