Hello readers!
My latest novel, Sleeping Love, is now available for purchase!
You can buy it here on Amazon! It is also available for Kindle.
Please feel free to drop a link, share, and tell your friends! Reviews, as always, are greatly appreciated.
I'm also running a contest now through Saturday evening! Head over to my Facebook page for a chance to win a signed copy of each of my books.
May your life be happily ever after!
Natasha
Showing posts with label Book. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Book. Show all posts
Friday, August 18, 2017
Monday, August 7, 2017
Sleeping Love Sneak Peek
Hello all!
My next book, Sleeping Love, comes out on Friday the 18th! It's a retelling of Sleeping Beauty. I posted an early book synopsis here, but I've tweaked things a bit since then. To celebrate the upcoming release, today I'm giving you all a sneak peek at the cover, the new synopsis, and...the first chapter!
I hope you guys enjoy!
As a baby, Rosalie was cursed to prick her finger and fall into a cursed sleep. Now the curse is broken...but she remembers none of her past life. Even worse, everyone else in her kingdom remains asleep. Left with no alternatives, Rosalie agrees to marry the prince who awakened her - if he can make her fall in love with him before they arrive in his homeland.
But it's a long journey back to his kingdom, and Rosalie is filled with doubts. Chief among them is the fact that Prince Justin's guard, Elliot, has eyes exactly like a boy she keeps dreaming about. Are they just dreams, or are they memories? Does Elliot hold some secret to her past?
Caught between a forgotten past and an unforeseeable future, Rosalie must follow her heart.
My next book, Sleeping Love, comes out on Friday the 18th! It's a retelling of Sleeping Beauty. I posted an early book synopsis here, but I've tweaked things a bit since then. To celebrate the upcoming release, today I'm giving you all a sneak peek at the cover, the new synopsis, and...the first chapter!
I hope you guys enjoy!
As a baby, Rosalie was cursed to prick her finger and fall into a cursed sleep. Now the curse is broken...but she remembers none of her past life. Even worse, everyone else in her kingdom remains asleep. Left with no alternatives, Rosalie agrees to marry the prince who awakened her - if he can make her fall in love with him before they arrive in his homeland.
But it's a long journey back to his kingdom, and Rosalie is filled with doubts. Chief among them is the fact that Prince Justin's guard, Elliot, has eyes exactly like a boy she keeps dreaming about. Are they just dreams, or are they memories? Does Elliot hold some secret to her past?
Caught between a forgotten past and an unforeseeable future, Rosalie must follow her heart.
She
woke up slowly, her mind fighting to stay in the comfort of the dark.
Her body awoke first, her limbs tingling with a thousand pins and
needles as though she had slept for a long time. For some reason her
lips were also tingling. A voice spoke near her, and her tired mind
took a while to process the words. When it finally managed, they
made no sense to her. “It didn’t work,” sighed a high, somehow
nervous voice. A significantly deeper voice uttered a hoarse curse
from farther away from her.
The
struggle to understand finally tore the last vestiges of sleep away
from her. Her eyes opened. The room was dark, the only light within
it pouring in through cracks in what inexplicably appeared to be an
enormous rose bush growing through the window. Two men stood within
the room. The first was young and slender, with short-cropped hair
and rich, ornate clothing. His eyes widened as she sat up.
“M’lady?” he said hesitantly, his voice identifying him as the
nervous one. “I’m here to rescue you!”
The
second man inhaled sharply from where he stood near the window. He
was older than the first, perhaps in his thirties. His hair was
long, pulled back into a tail, and his practical armor had obviously
seen use in combat. It was his eyes which drew her attention,
though. His face was a mask devoid of feelings, but all the emotion
he strove to hide could be seen within his eyes. Pain, fear,
longing, and something she couldn’t identify all lingered there.
The
young man’s face suddenly swooped into her field of vision.
“M’lady?” he asked.
She
blinked, recalling his earlier words. “I’m sorry,” she said
slowly. “Rescue me from what?”
His
brow furrowed. “From the curse, of course!”
The
other man stepped closer. “Do you remember?” he asked. His
gruff voice was surprisingly gentle.
She
frowned as they both watched her, the young man nervously, the older
sadly. “I’m sorry,” she repeated after a moment. “I don’t.
I know this sounds strange, but do either of you happen to know my
name?”
She
watched as the older man’s eyes widened. The young man laughed.
He stopped when she looked at him, her expression belatedly informing
him that she wasn’t joking. “Oh my. You really don’t know
your name?”
She
shook her head. “I’m afraid I don’t remember anything. That’s
strange, isn’t it?”
The
young man looked to the older for help. Obviously hesitant, the
second man walked over to her bedside and gently knelt beside it. He
met her gaze for a moment, and she was struck by how green his eyes
were before he looked away. “Your name is Rosalie,” he said.
“You are a princess, and this castle is your home.”
She
looked around the room again, taking in more details this time. Now
that he mentioned it, there was a feeling of opulence to the room;
rich tapestries lined the walls, the bed she sat upon was soft and
warm, and the broken window had at one time been made of stained
glass. Everything in the room was covered in a layer of dust. She –
Rosalie – frowned.
“What happened to this place?” she asked.
“The
curse!” the young man exclaimed, coming around and sitting on the
bed beside her. She scooted back, uncomfortable, and the older man
shot a glare at the younger. “Forgive me,” he said, holding up
his hands. “I’m Prince Justin, by the way.”
Rosalie
shook her head. “You keep mentioning a curse. What curse?”
“You
were placed under a spell at your naming day,” the older man
explained. “The curse did not take effect until you were almost
eighteen.”
Prince
Justin nodded excitedly. “You and everyone else fell into a deep
sleep, only to be woken when you were given true love’s kiss.”
He blushed at this. Rosalie suddenly had a horrified feeling that
she knew exactly why her lips had been tingling.
“Wha–
you kissed me?” She jumped out of bed, backing away from him. The
prince stood to follow, but the older man grabbed his arm, stopping
him. “I don’t even know you! How can that be true love?”
He
hesitated, searching for words. An even more dreadful thought
occurred to her. “Wait – do
I know you? Did I, I mean? Were we in love?”
Justin's
response was awkward. “No, m’lady. I apologize. I heard
stories of your curse and came to see if I could free you from it. I
had not met you before today.”
Rosalie
shook her head vehemently. “Then how can it be true love?”
It
was the older man who answered. “There was more to the curse than
my companion said, Princess. Only a kiss from one of noble birth
could break the spell.”
She
frowned. “Your story keeps changing. I don’t even know who you
people are, and you expect me to believe that I’m a princess, and
my castle was under a curse? Why curse a baby in the first place?
Who would do such a ridiculous thing?”
Justin
raised a hand to stop her rant. “Elliot, would you go and see if
you can find the King or Queen, please? Perhaps this would sound
better coming from them - maybe she’ll remember her parents.”
The
older man hesitated, shooting one last look her way before walking
out the door. Justin waited until he had left before approaching
her. “Rosalie, I know this must be difficult for you–” he
began.
“Don’t!
Don’t come near me,” she insisted, holding both hands before
her. He paused, biting his lip in the awkward silence which
followed.
Elliot
strode back in. She hadn’t thought it possible, but his face was
somehow more serious than it had been before. “I’m afraid I can
show you proof of the curse,” he said.
“What?
How?” Justin asked.
Elliot
grimaced. “It appears waking her did not wake the rest of the
castle. Everyone else is still asleep.”
Justin’s
eyes widened, but Rosalie pushed past him before he could say
anything. Elliot wordlessly held the chamber door for her as she
stalked out of the room. He quickly caught up with her as she
descended the stairs – apparently her room was at the top of a
tower – and grabbed her elbow as she reached the bottom. She
recoiled from his touch, but he looked even more uncomfortable than
she. “Princess…this is not a pleasant sight,” he warned.
She
held her head high. Thumping from behind her told her that Justin
was catching up. “I’ll manage,” she responded, once more
brushing past the man. The corridor was dark, its windows blocked by
the same rose bushes that had forced their way into her room. It
took a moment for her eyes to adjust. She nearly tripped over the
first body on the floor.
She
bit back a scream, determined not to prove Elliot right. She knelt
next to the body, gingerly raising the woman’s wrist to check for a
pulse. Rosalie bit back a sigh of relief when she found one. She
began to shake the woman’s shoulders, trying to wake her up.
Elliot
knelt beside her, shaking his head. “It’s no use, Princess.
Their sleep is too deep.”
“How?”
she asked. “How can this be?”
“I
agree,” came Justin's voice from behind her. “I thought the
others would wake up when she did?”
They
both looked at Elliot. His face was in shadows as he shook his head,
but Rosalie thought he looked as confused as they did. “I do not
know,” he murmured after a moment. “That was what the curse
said…”
Rosalie
stood as well, shaking off Justin’s attempts to help her to her
feet. “Perhaps you’d better tell me about this curse, then –
and this time, start at the beginning!”
…
They
walked around the castle as they talked, finding bodies lying
sleeping in almost every room. The group stopped in the first
courtyard they found, preferring the light of day to the grim, quiet
darkness within the castle. The courtyard was in the same state of
disrepair as the rest of the castle. Its fountain and stepping
stones were cracked and full of overgrown weeds. It had once been
left open on three sides, with high arches that must have offered a
view of the surrounding lands, but the openings were long since
overgrown with rose bushes. The luxurious, heady scent of the
flowers surrounded the group as Elliot spoke of the curse.
“The
King and Queen had been desperate for a child for years,” he began.
“Upon your birth they celebrated, and invited the whole of the
kingdom to do so with them. Everyone was invited to your name day,
and a great feast was prepared. Unfortunately, unbeknownst to them,
one of the creatures ordered slaughtered for the feast was a swan
that was a familiar to a local sorceress.”
“Enraged
at the death of her familiar, the sorceress arrived late to the feast
just as the gifts were being given. She pushed her way to the front
of the line, protesting that she too had a gift for the royal family.
‘As you have taken that which I love from me, so I will take that
which you love from you,’ she declared. ‘By the eve of her
eighteenth birthday, your daughter shall prick her finger upon a
spindle. She and all in the kingdom shall fall into a deep sleep –
a sleep that can only be broken by true love’s noble kiss.’ ”
Rosalie
frowned. “Then why did I wake up? Justin may be noble, but I
don’t love him.” She looked at the young man, who had flushed at
her comment. “I’m sorry, but I don’t. How could I love
someone I’ve never even met?”
He
shook his head. “I understand. I don’t know why it worked. But
it did, so that’s good, right?”
Elliot
shook his head. “The rest of the castle should have woken up with
her, and there’s nothing in the curse about a loss of memory. I
don’t know what happened.”
“So
I’m eighteen, then?” Rosalie asked. “Or younger, since the
curse said by my eighteenth birthday…”
“Just
a few days away from eighteen,” Justin responded. “The curse
struck just before your birthday.”
Rosalie
nodded. “And I’ve been asleep for how long?”
Elliot
abruptly stood and walked away, leaving Justin to answer. “Thirteen
years, m’lady,” he said quietly.
“Thirteen
years?!”
She rose from the dilapidated stone bench, the prince trying to
follow and calm her down. “That’s only five years less than I’ve
been alive! Do I look thirty now? What about the old people in the
kingdom? Oh goodness, are they over a hundred now?!”
“You
haven’t aged,” came Elliot’s harsh voice. “None of the
victims of the curse aged.”
She
breathed a sigh, relieved by that small blessing. “But still! Our
relations with other kingdoms must have fallen into ruin. If the
growth of these plants is anything to go by,” and here she aimed a
kick at a nearby cluster of weeds, “then the fields are probably
overrun with useless plants. Even if we could wake up the others,
what would they awaken to?”
Justin
shook his head. “I know for a fact that most other kingdoms have
forgotten all about Ilaeria. The curse must have made people’s
memories of your kingdom sleep too – even Fahra doesn’t remember
you!” Seeing her blank look, he quickly amended his statement.
“I’m the Prince of Fahra, which is only a week’s journey away.”
“If
your kingdom forgot about us, then how did you know to come find me?”
Rosalie asked. “Did you somehow remember Ilaeria?”
“I
had no proof that it was real,” Justin admitted. “But bards and
storytellers have made mention of Ilaeria for years now. I’ve no
idea how they knew about it, but somehow they did. They sang of a
sleeping princess and of a curse. I fell in love with the story
years ago, and came to find you as soon as I came of age.”
Rosalie
frowned. “Maybe that’s how you woke me up – you loved the
story, the idea of me, even if you didn’t love me.”
The
prince flushed again. “I came with the intention of doing the
honourable thing,” he replied. “There is nothing for you here
now. Your kingdom may be in ruins, but mine is wealthy. If– if
you will have me, I will bring you back to Fahra as my bride.”
She
stared at him for a moment, trying to judge if he was serious.
Determining that he was, she protested, “But you still don’t know
me!”
“Regardless,
I fell in love with the sleeping beauty a long time ago,” Justin
replied. “And in time, I feel that you could grow to love me as
well.”
Rosalie
shook her head. “You fell in love with a story, not with me! I’m
more than just a…a sleeping damsel in distress for you to swoop in
and rescue!”
“Really?
Then who are you?” There was no malice in his question, but it
stung nonetheless.
“I'm–”
she hesitated, willing her memories to return. Her mind remained
clouded. She shook her head, furious, but was unable to argue
against him.
Justin
nodded. “You can’t remember anything. You have nothing and no
one here. I can offer you peace, security, and my love. Give me a
chance, and I feel we can be happy together.”
She
shook her head again. “But I don’t know you.” It was a weak
protest, but it was all she had.
His
voice was not unkind as he replied, “You know me better than you
know anyone else.” Seeing the look on her face, he held up his
hands. “I’ll make you a deal, m’lady – return to my kingdom
with me. If at any point your people wake up, or you remember your
life, I’ll personally bring you back here. But if you give me a
chance on our journey home, and if you fall in love with me, I will
announce our engagement upon returning to Fahra.”
Rosalie
hesitated. The prince patted her on the shoulder. “Think about
it,” he said. She hated that his voice was kind as he walked away.
“What
choice do I have?” she responded, her voice so quiet that he
scarcely heard her.
Justin
looked back at her, pity upon his face. “I don’t know. I’m
giving you the best choice I have.”
Rosalie
bit her lip, fighting back tears as he left her.
…
The
fading light in the courtyard told Rosalie that the sun was beginning
to set. She stood and headed for the door to the castle’s
interior. Her cheeks were still damp from crying, but her face was
resolute, and her mind made up. Justin was not unkind, and his offer
was the best choice she had available to her.
Rosalie
stopped when she entered the castle hallway, her eyes taking a moment
to adjust to the darkness within. She began to walk, not really
knowing where she was headed. Footsteps muted by the rich carpet
below made her whirl around, only to find Elliot standing a few steps
behind her.
“Forgive
me, Princess,” he murmured, not meeting her gaze. “I did not
mean to startle you.” Rosalie’s eyes widened, and she raised a
hand to her wet cheek. Had he stood by the door the whole time she
had cried?
Elliot's
awkward cough confirmed her suspicions. She blinked rapidly, trying
to regain her composure. “It is I who should apologize. I thought
you would have gone with the prince.”
The
knight shook his head. “He tasked me to watch over you while he
checked the castle for supplies.”
Rosalie
nodded. “I see. May I ask you something?”
His
brow furrowed, but he nodded. Rosalie gestured for them to begin
walking, and the knight took the lead, seeming to know his way around
the castle. “You heard our conversation?” she asked as they
gingerly traversed around the bodies that littered the floor.
It
was difficult to tell in the dim lighting, but Rosalie thought
Elliot’s neck seemed flushed at her question. “I did,” he
replied without turning.
“You
serve the man. What is your opinion of Prince Justin?”
Elliot
hesitated before answering. “He is kind,” he said, his tone
thoughtful. “He does not stand to inherit the throne, and so has
little interest in politics, but he is still wealthy. He is young,
in more ways than just age – but he is honest, and trusting. If he
tells you something, you may know it to be true.”
Rosalie
blinked, startled by the amount the knight had shared. Her
interactions with him thus far had led her to believe he was a man of
few words. “You speak highly of him.”
Elliot
nodded. “I have served his father for almost five years now. I
watched the Prince become a man. I admire him more than I do his
brothers.”
They
entered a room larger than any they had traveled through. Its
ceilings were high and hung with chandeliers; the walls were draped
in rich, thick curtains. Rosalie stared up at the chandeliers,
fascinated, and found her steps suddenly blocked by Elliot. “I’m
sorry,” he murmured as she looked at him in confusion. “I didn't
want you to trip.” He gestured with one hand and she followed the
movement, gasping as her gaze fell to the floor.
The
room was littered with dozens of bodies, all of them richly attired.
Silken suits and shimmering gowns drew her eye. She had been about
to stumble over one when the knight stopped her. Rosalie shook her
head, feeling sickened as she looked around the room. “There’s
so many of them,” she whispered.
She
could feel the silent worry in Elliot’s gaze. “There was a
dance, the night of the curse. Most of the kingdom was gathered
here.” Her eyes snapped up to his face as he gently touched her
wrist. “I’m sorry – there was no other way out. This way,
Princess.” His voice was as gentle as his hand as he led her
through the room. Rosalie did not look down again, trusting him to
lead her through the maze of sleeping bodies.
She
breathed a sigh of relief when they exited the room, and thought she
heard a small exhale from the knight as well. “Thank you,” she
said as he released her hand.
He
gave a slight bow before taking up his position at the front. “It
is my duty,” came his taciturn response.
…
Justin
was waiting for them when they emerged from the castle a few minutes
later. “There you are!” he said, rising from where he perched on
the steps leading up to the door. “I was beginning to worry you
had gotten lost – I know I did.”
Rosalie
shook her head. “Your knight seems to know his way around the
place.” She watched as Elliot descended the stairs, walking past
Justin to where three horses were tethered.
The
prince nodded. “He’s better at seeing in the dark than I am, at
least. M’lady, I did not think you would want to stay inside the
castle, so I took the liberty of moving some blankets and the like
out here. We have a tent which you are welcome to use.”
She
shuddered at the thought of sleeping amongst all of the others within
the castle. “That’s very considerate, thank you.” She walked
hesitantly towards him, noticing that the prince seemed as nervous as
she did. “I thought about your offer…”
“Please,
let me say something first,” Justin interjected. “I realize that
this must be very traumatic for you, and I shouldn't have said
anything before letting you get your bearings. I just wanted you to
know that there are options available to you. However, I don't want
to make you do anything you don’t want to do. I’d be more than
happy to just escort you to Fahra and help you start a new life there
– a life that does not have to include me.”
Rosalie
blinked. “That’s very generous of you – as was your first
offer. I realize that I don’t have many choices available, and I
understand that you’re just trying to help. I’m sorry if I
seemed rude earlier.”
The
prince shook his head. “Again, I understand. This is a trying
time.”
“What
you offered me is more than I have any right to expect. And you’re
right – I don’t know who I am. I don’t know what I know how to
do. I don’t even know if I could survive on my own. So…I would
like to accept your offer, if you’re still willing.”
Justin
seemed taken aback. “You would marry me?”
She
held up a hand, trying to forestall the excitement she saw rising in
his face. “If I fall in love you with before we reach Fahra, you
will announce our engagement. Those were your words, correct?”
Rosalie waited until he nodded before continuing. “Good. If I do,
we will proceed as discussed. Otherwise, you drop me off in Fahra
and leave me to make my own way. Does that sound fair?”
“More
than fair,” Justin replied, beaming. “Thank you, m’lady!”
Rosalie
shook her head, a little amused by his glee. “And no more calling
me m’lady. If I am a princess, then we are of equal rank, so you
should call me by my name…assuming I’m remembering my etiquette
correctly. Besides, maybe then I’ll get used to hearing it.”
She thought she saw Elliot smile faintly at her quip as he headed
towards them, having set up the tent near the treeline.
Justin
laughed at her comment. “Rosalie it is, then. Or do you prefer
Rose?”
She
shook her head vehemently, unsure as to why the name seemed so wrong
to her. The frown Elliot now bore told her he shared her sentiments,
though she couldn’t imagine why. “Just Rosalie, please.”
Justin
nodded, seeming confused at her insistence. Elliot cleared his
throat, drawing the prince’s attention to him. “The Queen is
named Rose,” he explained quietly.
Rosalie
blinked, realizing that she had not even known her own mother’s
name. The realization left her with a hollow feeling inside. She
waited as Justin excused himself and went to check on their campsite
before approaching Elliot. “Please,” she said quietly. “My
father – what was his name?”
There
was sympathy on Elliot’s face as he looked at her. “Phillip,”
he replied softly. She nodded, and was thankful when he turned
without another word and left her to her thoughts.
…
The
evening was pleasant, with only a slight chill creeping in after the
sun had set. When Rosalie approached the camp she found that a
blazing fire had been lit close to the tent, which looked rather
spacious to her. Justin and Elliot both had mats set up near the
fire. A pot of something that smelled delicious hung from a brace
above the flames. The young prince sat on his bedding and gently
stirred the pot, replacing the lid when he was done.
Justin
gestured for Rosalie to sit on the second mat; seeing that Elliot was
nowhere to be seen, she complied. “You can cook?” she asked,
surprised.
He
laughed. “Not something you expect from a prince, I know, but I
love the kitchen. I’m the youngest of seven sons, so my father
always let me study whatever I wanted.”
“Well,
it smells delicious.” She smiled at him, glad that he was willing
to do menial tasks. Could she even cook, she wondered?
“Should
be done in a few minutes. We brought enough supplies to last for the
journey back, though Elliot has been supplementing our diet with
fresh meat.”
“Where
is he?” Rosalie asked.
Justin
shrugged, gesturing to the woods. “Out keeping watch somewhere. I
doubt we’ll see him until he wakes me for my turn; he’s eaten by
himself every night we’ve been out here. Keeps to himself,
mostly.”
He
served her a bowl of the stew, and Rosalie accepted it from him
gratefully. The smell of it had reminded her stomach that it had not
eaten in thirteen years. She tried to be ladylike in her eating, but
judging by the small smile Justin tried to hide behind his own bowl,
her efforts were in vain. “He said he’s served your father for
several years?” she asked around mouthfuls, hoping to distract the
prince with conversation.
“Almost
five, now,” he mused. “He’s a good man – somewhat terse, as
you’ve undoubtedly noticed, but with a heart of gold beneath the
gruff.”
She
laughed at the description. “Why is he so stern? And this is
delicious, thank you.”
“I’m
glad,” he replied. “And I’m not sure. He’s always been
fairly quiet, but he’s not normally this uncommunicative. He was
in the wars, before coming to my father; he served as a mercenary, if
I recall. Battle can make a man withdraw into himself. I’ve seen
it with the palace guards. They only truly open up with each other,
because no one else understands.”
Rosalie
looked into the darkness of the woods, wondering if Elliot could hear
them. She turned back to find that Justin had topped off her bowl,
winking at her when she noticed. Rosalie blushed, reasonably certain
that a lady was not supposed to devour her food. But she was
ravenous, and Justin didn’t seem to mind.
The
prince looked out into the woods while she finished her bowl of stew.
“He’s a good man,” he stated. “My brothers bullied me
before Elliot first came to the castle – said I was better with a
spoon than with a sword. Elliot showed me how to fight. He trained
me outside of my normal hours with the swordsmaster. They couldn’t
understand how I was suddenly so much better. But the bullying
stopped. I think that generous heart is what made my father accept
him into the knights.”
He
took her bowl from her when she had finished, putting it aside to be
washed in the morning. “We should get some rest,” he said,
standing and offering a hand to pull her to her feet. “It’s
getting late, and we’ve an early start tomorrow. The tent is set
up – please let me know if you need anything else.”
Rosalie
thanked him, then thanked him again when he held up the flap that
served as the entrance to the tent. “Good night,” she murmured
as she ducked inside.
“Good
night, Rosalie,” he replied. The flap dropped closed, and Rosalie
was relieved to see that the fire provided enough light to glimpse
the insides of the tent by. It was simple, but there were blankets
on the floor to provide padding with another to go over her, and
there were pillows. The tent had enough room to allow her to stretch
comfortably, and was tall enough that she barely had to duck inside.
She heard Justin settle onto his mat outside and followed his
example, lying down and pulling the blanket over her.
Falling
asleep was harder. Justin began to snore within minutes of lying
down, but Rosalie just lay there, unable to sleep. Perhaps it was
because she had slept for so long, or because she had awakened only
hours before, but her body seemed unwilling to fall back into the
darkness slumber offered.
She
was still awake several hours later, so she heard Elliot approach the
campfire. He settled onto his mat. She was surprised that he didn’t
wake Justin for his turn at keeping guard. The fire had died down to
just embers, leading her to believe that the watch was half done.
Elliot just sat there, not waking his counterpart. After a few
minutes she smiled in the dark, realizing that he was letting the
prince snag an extra hour or two of sleep.
“He’s
a good man,”
she remembered Justin’s words. She rather thought she agreed with
the prince.
Elliot
was still sitting watch when she finally drifted off.
…
The
boy was with her – he was always with her during their free time,
much to the chagrin of their tutors. She smiled as he met her at the
bottom of the stairs, both of them dressed in casual clothes they
kept specifically for exploring. They had learned early on that
trouble would come if their good clothes showed up dirty or torn.
“Ready?”
he asked, his white smile a sharp contrast to his tanned skin.
“Ready!”
she agreed, beaming back at him.
He
looked slightly askance at the basket she carried, but nonetheless
fell into step with her as they headed for the woods. “What’s
that for?” he asked.
“Father’s
started me learning from an herbalist,” she replied. “I thought
if I brought some different plants back from the wood, I could say
this was for educational purposes.”
The
boy threw back his head and laughed. “You’ll still get in
trouble if they find out where you got the plants.”
She
shrugged. “Then I’ll keep the plants for my personal collection.
I’m twelve and I’ve never been outside the castle grounds. I
want that to change, and the wood is right here to explore.”
“You’re
not worried?” he asked as they entered the tree line. “Or
scared?”
She
stopped, looking at him sideways. “Why would I be scared?”
The
boy shook his head, amused. “You wouldn’t be, would you. I just
don’t want you to get into trouble.”
She
laughed. “I’ll make you a deal – I’ll tell you what plants
not to touch if you protect me from any vicious animals we may find.
That should keep us out of trouble. And when we get back, we tell
them we were climbing trees in the courtyard again.”
He
chuckled again, his green eyes catching the light that filtered in
through the trees. “You see, Sally, this is why I like you!”
Together
they headed into the woods, the boy whistling a jaunty tune as they
lost themselves amongst the trees.
I hope you guys enjoyed the sneak peek! Next week I'll be returning to my series of posts on fairy tales without dead moms (or evil stepmothers). Keep an eye out for an announcement about the release of Sleeping Love!
Monday, January 2, 2017
New Year and Resolutions (Including a book announcement!)
Hey guys! Welcome to my first post of 2017!
Most cultures around the world celebrate some form of new year festival. These celebrations have been around for thousands of years. Originally it wasn't so much the coming of a new year that was celebrated, but the changing of the seasons. I was introduced to this concept thanks to the Redwall series, where events are said to have happened "four summers ago", or a cask is said to have aged "for three falls". A more recent example can be found in the A Song of Ice and Fire series, where characters are asked how many winters they have lived to see.
As human societies became more intellectual, calendars were invented. The most widely used nowadays is the Gregorian calendar, which marks the new year as beginning on January 1st. However, not every country and group uses this calendar; for instance, the Chinese New Year is celebrated on a lunar cycle, meaning that it falls on January 28th this year. Rosh Hashanah, a Jewish New Year festival, begins on September 20th. There are many other variations throughout the world, falling on dates all over the calendar.
When many Americans think of the new year, resolutions are often associated with it. Interestingly enough, New Year's resolutions are not practiced all over the world. Most countries have their own unique spin on New Year's practices; for instance, the Japanese have small shrines called kadomatsu which act as a sort of temporary housing for the kami during the transition to the new year.
It is hoped that the family whose kadomatsu the kami stay in will be blessed by the grateful spirits. I haven't been able to look into why Americans seem so fixated on making resolutions for the new year, but it is certainly a tradition we have embraced.
With that having been said, I thought I'd make my resolutions for 2017 here.
It is my goal to:
1. Finish Lips as Red as Blood, my current work in progress.
2. Get ahead on blog posts before the semester begins.
3. Publish Sleeping Love, a book I wrote in 2016 as a Christmas present for my mom.
And since this is the official announcement of Sleeping Love, let me give you guys a sneak peek at what the story is about! It's Sleeping Beauty...with a twist or two thrown in!
Justin's kiss may have awoken Rosalie, but it left the rest of her kingdom asleep. Worse still, Rosalie has no memory of her life - she only knows her name because of Elliot, Justin's gruff and taciturn guard!
Seeing no other options, Rosalie agrees to let Justin take her home and wed her...but at night, she dreams of playing with a boy with green eyes - eyes almost precisely the same shade as Elliot's.
Are these only dreams, or are they remnants of her memory? Is Elliot more than just a wandering knight? Can Rosalie find a way to unlock her past...before her future is sealed?
Sleeping Love will be out fall 2017!
How do you guys celebrate the New Year? Any fun resolutions made, or things you hope to try? Let me know in the comments below!
Most cultures around the world celebrate some form of new year festival. These celebrations have been around for thousands of years. Originally it wasn't so much the coming of a new year that was celebrated, but the changing of the seasons. I was introduced to this concept thanks to the Redwall series, where events are said to have happened "four summers ago", or a cask is said to have aged "for three falls". A more recent example can be found in the A Song of Ice and Fire series, where characters are asked how many winters they have lived to see.
As human societies became more intellectual, calendars were invented. The most widely used nowadays is the Gregorian calendar, which marks the new year as beginning on January 1st. However, not every country and group uses this calendar; for instance, the Chinese New Year is celebrated on a lunar cycle, meaning that it falls on January 28th this year. Rosh Hashanah, a Jewish New Year festival, begins on September 20th. There are many other variations throughout the world, falling on dates all over the calendar.
When many Americans think of the new year, resolutions are often associated with it. Interestingly enough, New Year's resolutions are not practiced all over the world. Most countries have their own unique spin on New Year's practices; for instance, the Japanese have small shrines called kadomatsu which act as a sort of temporary housing for the kami during the transition to the new year.
It is hoped that the family whose kadomatsu the kami stay in will be blessed by the grateful spirits. I haven't been able to look into why Americans seem so fixated on making resolutions for the new year, but it is certainly a tradition we have embraced.
With that having been said, I thought I'd make my resolutions for 2017 here.
It is my goal to:
1. Finish Lips as Red as Blood, my current work in progress.
2. Get ahead on blog posts before the semester begins.
3. Publish Sleeping Love, a book I wrote in 2016 as a Christmas present for my mom.
(She's already read it, and it met with her approval!)
And since this is the official announcement of Sleeping Love, let me give you guys a sneak peek at what the story is about! It's Sleeping Beauty...with a twist or two thrown in!
Justin's kiss may have awoken Rosalie, but it left the rest of her kingdom asleep. Worse still, Rosalie has no memory of her life - she only knows her name because of Elliot, Justin's gruff and taciturn guard!
Seeing no other options, Rosalie agrees to let Justin take her home and wed her...but at night, she dreams of playing with a boy with green eyes - eyes almost precisely the same shade as Elliot's.
Are these only dreams, or are they remnants of her memory? Is Elliot more than just a wandering knight? Can Rosalie find a way to unlock her past...before her future is sealed?
Sleeping Love will be out fall 2017!
How do you guys celebrate the New Year? Any fun resolutions made, or things you hope to try? Let me know in the comments below!
Monday, September 5, 2016
Chosen of the Gods: Treebound Sneak Peek!
Hey guys! I promised you something special this week - here it is! Without further ado, I give you chapter one of my upcoming book, Treebound!
Treebound, the final book in my Chosen of the Gods trilogy, comes out in October.
Thanks for reading, and I'll see you next week with a return to African folktales!
Day 188295
Tom
had seen some pretty curious things in his days as a relic bearer.
He had witnessed the Norse apocalypse. He had watched a power-hungry
goddess try to frame her husband for her son’s kidnapping. He had seen
relic bearers try to recreate the fictional game of Quidditch
(successfully), cosplay as superheroes (powers and all), and attempt
to use their abilities to rig the results of the Super Bowl (which
the Council quickly prevented).
All
of that paled before the curious nature of what he was currently
watching.
Tom
ran a hand through his curly black hair, openly staring at the horde
of cats sitting on the rooftops of the street across from him. Most
of them seemed focused on a single building – a jewelry store about
a block away from the alley where Tom was observing from. A few
minutes ago he had watched the cats cross the rooftops to take up
their current positions, their movements almost perfectly in sync
with the young woman who had just broken into the store with quick
efficiency.
He
was fairly certain he had found his relic bearer.
Tom
jumped at a soft sound behind him. He whirled around to see a sight
nearly as unexpected as the militant formation of the cats. A man
with short cropped red hair and a gently bristling beard stood a few
steps away, a broad smile on his face. He wore blue jeans and a dark
t-shirt, and his jacket mostly concealed the gun holster he wore with
confidence.
“Liam?”
Tom whispered, not quite believing it.
“Sup?”
his friend replied, still grinning. “What are you doing here,
Tom?”
The
redhead stepped forward to join Tom as the former butler turned, once
more focusing on the jewelry shop down the street. “Thought I’d
actually do some work,” Tom answered quietly. “Word is there’s
a new relic bearer in this area, and I think I’ve found her.
What’re you doing here?”
Liam
frowned slightly, his trained gaze taking note of the unusual
behavior of the multitude of cats on the rooftops. During his day
job, Liam was a police officer – and he used those same skills to
aid the Order of relic bearers. “The Order thinks there’s a
bearer using their relic for crime. I’ve been sent to stop them.
Is the Order running short on Seekers or something? I thought you
were too important for field work now.”
Tom’s
face flushed at his friend’s words. “I needed a break. Being
Ambassador for the Norse and Greek gods is killing my head,
especially now that the other pantheons are chiming in. Besides, I
miss being a Seeker.”
“Gotcha,”
Liam replied, his eyes still roving the street. “What are the odds
that we’re here for the same relic bearer?”
“Given
that I just saw her break into a store, I’d say pretty good,” Tom
replied wryly. “What is it with you and catching cat burglars?”
Liam
blinked. He looked at the cats calmly surveying the area, then back
at Tom. His blue eyes sparkled. “Pun intended, I assume?”
Tom
grinned, and let that be his answer. He had missed his friend. Work
kept them both so busy that they rarely had time to catch up.
Getting to see Liam, if only for a few minutes in the field, was a
joy.
A
sharp shattering noise far off drew their attention back to the
store. Liam hissed softly. “Sounds like a broken counter display.
She’s definitely stealing.”
Tom
caught his elbow as his friend moved to exit the alley. “Hold on.
I’ve never seen cats act like this before. I’d rather know what
she can do before we confront her.”
Liam
glanced at the rooftops, and blinked when he found two of the cats
watching him, their eyes glowing yellow in the streetlights. He
carefully stepped back into the shadows Tom stood in. After a moment
the cats looked away, but their ears remained turned towards the
human duo.
“Maybe
you’re right,” Liam replied softly. Almost all of the cats he
saw were street cats – huge, tough things covered in scars and used
to rough living. Hardened street cats could be vicious and dangerous
on the best of days, when acting alone. But multiple cats acting
under the direction of a bearer? Liam shuddered at the thought. He
could see half a dozen cats from where he stood, and he was sure that
more lurked in the shadows where human eyes couldn’t penetrate.
Movement
drew he and Tom’s eyes back to the store, where the girl was
emerging. She looked to be in her early teens, with her curly hair
cropped in a short black bob. Sparkling jewels hung from her neck in
large quantities – she seemed to be wearing the spoils of her
night’s work.
Liam
glanced towards the rooftops as the girl began to prowl down the
street away from them. He sucked in a breath. “Tom. The cats are
gone.”
The
butler looked up and blinked. Sure enough, all of the felines seemed
to have silently vanished. The girl continued moving away, this time
without her protective detail of cats. After a moment, a large
figure detached himself from an alley ahead of the two men and began
to follow her. Something metallic in his hand glinted as he passed
under a light, and Liam hissed as he recognized a knife.
Without
a word Liam left the alley and broke into a soft run, followed
immediately by Tom. Downtown LA was dangerous at the best of times,
and that girl – criminal or not – looked too young to be on her
own.
Some
sound seemed to alert her to her pursuer. She turned around and
caught sight of the man behind her. Her eyes were large, almost
feral looking, and she immediately broke into a run. The man let out
a harsh curse and began a sprint of his own, rapidly gaining ground
on her. Liam and Tom were still a ways away when she turned down a
back alley, the man right behind her.
Tom
quickly grabbed Liam’s arm. The dizzying blur that accompanied the
use of the butler’s relics left them standing in an alley across
from the one the girl had ducked into. Liam moved to run towards it,
but Tom’s arm stopped him.
“Look
up,” he breathed.
Liam
followed his friend’s gaze and saw what had made Tom stop. The six
cats they had watched earlier stood on the rooftops surrounding the
alley.
Every
one of them was focused on the ground below.
It
was too dark in the alley for Tom and Liam to see what was happening,
but they heard a man scream in sudden agony. After a moment his
footsteps pounded and he raced out of the alley, one hand held to his
face with blood gushing through his fingers.
A
score of cats, all of them fierce and large, chased after him.
Tom
and Liam watched as the man raced down the street, the cats easily
keeping pace. Two of the cats continued to swat at his heels as he
ran. Judging from his yelps, their claws inflicted some wounds.
After
a minute the man disappeared from view, and the street was silent
once more.
The
duo let out a soft breath. “I’m very
glad we didn’t try and stop her,” Liam whispered, his voice
stunned. “I’ve never seen anything like that. What sort of
relic does she have?”
Tom
shrugged. “The Order wasn’t sure. I’m guessing some sort of
animal deity – Dionysus and Artemis are both popular with cats, and
Freya’s chariot is pulled by them. Most pantheons have at least
one god associated with felines.”
“Dionysus?
I thought he was the god of wine?” Liam replied. His voice was
still soft, but it also sounded incredulous.
“Wine.
Partying and general debauchery. Leopards.” Tom was still
watching the alley the girl had run into, but there was no sign of
movement.
“Leopards.
Good Lord, she chased a man off with tom
cats.
Can you imagine what she could do with leopards?” the cop said,
horrified.
“Interesting
idea,” a soft voice purred above them. “Maybe we should visit
the zoo.”
The
two men looked up as a loud meow answered the girl. She was perched
on the rooftop above them, crouched on the very edge with seemingly
no care for its height. A cat, black and white with a stub of a
tail, arched his back and bumped into her side, his wide blue eyes
fixed on the men below even as he purred.
Tom
noticed that Liam was careful to not reach for his gun.
“Hello,”
the butler said, trying to keep his voice calm. “I’m Tom, and
this is Liam. What’s your name?”
The
girl jumped lightly to the ground before them, then sprang up and
held out her arms to catch the cat who followed her. “Cas. This
is Stubby.” The cat mrowed at them cheerfully, nuzzling into the
girl’s face before hopping to the ground. “What do you want?”
“We’d
like to talk to you about the gods,” Tom replied. He watched as
the cat patrolled around he and Liam, sniffing curiously at both of
their legs.
Cas
broke into a hearty laugh. “A little late for missionary work,
don’t you think?” She frowned at Liam as the cat continued to
sniff his shoes. The cop held very still, and swallowed as the cat
looked up at him with disdain. “You’re a dog person. We don’t
like dogs.”
“I
like cats too,” he assured her, reaching out a careful hand for
Stubby. The cat regarded him for an instant before his eyes
softened, and he leaned into Liam’s hand with his head, arching his
back and flumping his rear into Liam’s leg as he did so. He maowed
again, very loudly, and Cas relaxed a little.
“I
suppose you’ll do,” she said, looking curiously at the two. One
hand sat impetuously on her hip as the other fingered the diamond
necklace that dropped to her waist. “Follow me.”
She
breezily stalked past the two, Stubby following her cheerfully. Tom
and Liam exchanged an incredulous glance, then moved after her. Cas
moved as gracefully as any cat they had ever seen. Her footsteps
were silent as she prowled through the streets. In contrast, Liam
and Tom’s footsteps rang out loudly on the pavement. She looked
back and flashed a very feline smile, then sped up slightly, forcing
them to jog to keep pace.
After
a few twists and turns through back streets they finally reached her
destination. When Liam and Tom rounded the last corner they found
Cas stretched out on a cushy couch, battered and torn but still
comfortable looking. The couch rested in the dead end of an alley,
and multiple crates and boxes had been stacked all around it. Soft,
warm blankets filled most of the boxes, and several were draped upon
the couch itself. Liam noticed that the crates made an effective
stairway up to the surrounding rooftops, allowing Cas several easy
escape routes.
Cas
gestured for the duo to sit, and they settled onto crates that proved
surprisingly comfortable. Liam and Tom exchanged glances, unsure how
the girl had wound up in control of the situation. She lounged on
her couch, looking as luxurious as a queen holding court. Stubby
hopped up next to her and gave a soft yowl. Cas reached out and
began to pet him. She scritched his back all the way to the stub of
his tail, and he mrowled again as he stretched his rump as high into
the air as it would go, eventually falling over onto the cushions.
“Now,”
Cas said, still petting the cat, “I believe you said something
about leopards?” Her tone was curious, and Tom felt his eyebrows
climb at her calm reaction to their presence.
“Uhh,”
he replied, thinking quickly. “Well, it depends on what god your
relic is from.”
“God?”
she interrupted. “Relic?” Stubby yowled sadly as her hand
paused in its petting, and Cas quickly resumed rubbing his back.
“Maybe
this would be easier if we found out what you know,” Liam replied.
“How do you control the cats?”
Again
Cas laughed at them, her white teeth flashing against the darkness of
her skin. Her teeth, Tom noted, looked rather sharp. “You don’t
control a cat, silly. They do what they want.”
Liam
blinked. “Then how did you make them chase off that mugger?”
She
shrugged. “I didn’t. They chased him off because they wanted
to.”
“Why
would they want to do that?” Tom asked. “For that matter, I’ve
never seen a group of cats that large. Why were they there in so
many numbers?”
“We
have an arrangement,” the girl replied, still languidly petting her
cat. “They work as lookouts for me. They keep me safe. In
exchange, I pay them.”
“You…pay
them.” Liam looked rather confused, and Tom didn’t blame him at
all.
“Yes.
What, you think that’s all for me?” Cas gestured towards a
large barrel full of salted fish behind the couch, and the two men
took note of it for the first time.
“Ah.
So, you feed the cats, and in exchange they help you?” Tom asked.
“I just want to make sure I’ve got this right.”
“Yup!
That’s it exactly.” Once again Cas had begun to play with the
necklace hanging from her slender neck. Similar sparkles drew Liam’s
attention to jewels all over the girl’s lair, mixed in with the
blankets and crates. Some were obviously fake theater jewelry, but
others appeared to be actual jewels. Miscellaneous shiny pieces of
metal, including quite a few coins, also caught the dim light that
illuminated the area. Liam was abruptly reminded of a magpie’s
nest, full of random shiny trinkets.
Tom’s
voice drew Liam’s attention back to the conversation. “Most
people can’t…create working relationships with cats,” he
explained to the girl. “How do you talk with them?”
She
yawned, once more showing her pointy teeth. “I don’t. I just
know what they want, and they know what I want. When do we get to
the part about the leopards?”
“Again,
it depends on your relic,” the Seeker answered. “If it’s a
relic of Dionysus, you might be able to…interact with leopards.”
“Who’s
Dionysus?” she asked, curious.
“He’s
one of the Greek gods,” Liam replied.
“Oh.
And what’s a relic?”
“A
relic is something one of the gods used to possess,” the cop
explained. He was somewhat disturbed by how calmly Cas was taking
all of this; she seemed only vaguely interested. Her curiosity
reminded him of nothing so much as a cat. Liam’s gaze flicked from
Cas down to Stubby, and then back up to the young woman. It was her
eyes, he realized with a start. The pupils in her gold-brown gaze
weren’t round, but slit – exactly like a cat.
“Why
would I have a relic?” she asked, stretching.
“I
don’t know,” Tom answered. “Sometimes the gods give them to
mortals. Sometimes they’re just found by us. Do you have anything
that you acquired around the time you started working with the cats?
Something that’s on you at all times?”
She
frowned. For the first time Cas seemed to completely focus on the
conversation. Her hand stopped petting Stubby, who was purring in a
near-slumber. She gazed at the cat in wonder. “Maybe,” she
replied hesitantly. “Why do you care?”
“We
represent an Order of relic bearers,” Tom answered. “We seek out
new bearers, explain their relics to them. We also explain the god
it came from. We want to help relic bearers understand their new
powers, and how to use them without harming anyone, or disrupting the
normal world.”
She
looked up, her gaze sharp. “What about him?” she asked, eyeing
Liam suspiciously. “I know a blue when I see one.”
“I’m
part of the Order, but yes – I am also a cop,” he replied
honestly. “The Order sometimes sends me to stop bearers who are
using their relics for crime.”
“Why?”
she asked.
“Because
it increases the chance of normal people finding out about relics,”
Liam answered. “And because most cops can’t keep up with a
criminal who has a relic.”
She
grinned at that. “So what, you’re here to arrest me? Take away
whatever relic I have? ’cause I won’t let you do that.”
Tom
shook his head. “We’re just here to tell you about the Order,
and to let you know that there are people like you out there.”
Cas
frowned at that. “But what if I want to keep stealing?”
A
thought struck Liam, and he followed his instincts, attempting to
play to her curiosity. “Wouldn’t you rather do something more
challenging? More…unique?”
“Like
what?” Her feline eyes focused entirely on him, and Liam fought an
unnerved shiver.
“Come
see the Order,” he suggested. “See what we do. Learn about us.
Then decide whether or not you might want to help us. We could use
someone like you.”
She
eyed him for a moment, then Tom. Cas looked down at Stubby. “What
do you think, boy?”
His
sleepy eyes were immediately clear, and the fully awake cat also eyed
the two humans. Then he gave a long, loud mrowl. Cas nodded,
apparently satisfied.
“Alright,”
she told Liam. “Show me.” She stood with feline grace and
vaulted over the couch, opening the barrel of fish – and sending a
very strong aroma over the little alley alcove. Stubby hopped after
her and waited as she offered him one.
Liam
and Tom also stood, a little uncertain. “Now?” Liam asked.
“Yes,
now.” She turned towards them, wiping off her hands. “The cats
will have their payment when they come, so there’s nothing else for
me to do. Show me. I want to see this Order.”
The
two men exchanged another glance, then nodded. “Alright,” Tom
replied. “Have you ever traveled by rainbow, miss?”
Treebound, the final book in my Chosen of the Gods trilogy, comes out in October.
Thanks for reading, and I'll see you next week with a return to African folktales!
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