Quote of the Moment

"What's Past Is Prologue." - William Shakespeare
Showing posts with label loss. Show all posts
Showing posts with label loss. Show all posts

Thursday, March 09, 2017

Edge of Sorrow Excerpt

It's time for the next Fortunes of Fate story! Edge of Sorrow is the 6th title in the series, and the release date is March 14. Not just at Amazon, either. I'm immediately releasing this one to all the major online retailers. And when I say all, I also mean Google Play! As a matter of fact, in the next couple of days all of the Fortunes of Fate stories will be available on Google Play (in the next week for my other titles).

For now, you can preorder Edge of Sorrow on Amazon, Kobo, and iBooks. The 14th isn't that far away, right? The Google Play preorder should be up soon, and I'll add the link to the post when it is. No preorder at Barnes & Noble, but Edge of Sorrow will be available there some time on the 14th.

I actually have some other exciting news. The first story in the Fortunes of Fate series, Dreams in Shadow is FREE at all retailers right now (and on Instafreebie - it will be part of a group promo, but more on that next week). So, if you haven't grabbed a copy yet, your budget won't stop you from snagging your free copy at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, iBooks, Google Play, and Smashwords. Grab it while you can. Not sure how long I'll keep it free.

Free stuff is good, but I'm hoping you're looking forward to the Edge of Sorrow excerpt. I have to say, this short story is my favorite of all the ones I've written so far to date. Happy reading!

Jasp draped his arms over the gargoyle and rested his chin on his interlaced fingers. The stone bench was as chilly on his backside as the gargoyle was on his wrinkled hands, but he’d suffer through any temperature for his daily vigil, which had lasted going on two decades.

A plum tree rattled in the breeze as if it spoke to him. No other tree or bush in the garden stirred.

If only Yetta could still speak. Her voice had been that of a songbird. Sweet as honey. And all those other wretched clichés.

No one’s fault but his own, though. He’d been lucky he’d had enough magic to turn her spirit into a plum tree before she’d completely faded from Fate.

Although Jasp didn’t think she was too happy with her current status. Twenty years was a long time. “Sorry, Yetta. Can’t let you go.”

Can't let go? The external thought burrowed into his brain, clear as the sky if he hadn’t intentionally kept it cloudy and gray.

Jasp slapped the gargoyle on the head, and it woke up. It flapped away and offered a vexed look over its shoulder.

“Yetta?” Stupid question. The voice wasn’t hers -- he’d know it anywhere. A soprano. This one was an alto, saturated with accusation.

A calico cat with shimmering red eyes slunk out from behind the plum tree. No Yetta here. Name's Amber.

“Cat.” Jasp stood and stalked toward the creature, but it held its ground. He waggled a finger. “You’re the one who ruined my fun then with that Darney boy?”

Oh, no. I love some tormenting fun, Mage Jasp. Maybe more than you. That was probably my meddling sister Joslyn. And feel free to kick that Darney fellow for me next time you see him, if you’d like.

“Humph. Makes no difference to me. Punishing one cat is as good as the other.”

The cat sauntered closer and rubbed up against his old, ratty purple robe. Little minx. You don't want to punish me. A purr vibrated through his mind.

“No?” He squatted down and stared into her mischievous red eyes. “Why’s that?”

You need me to show you.

He wanted to kick her and her bothersome riddling. She’d destroyed his peace, gazing upon his dear Yetta in tree form. The only time his aging body quieted. “What do you want from me, you mangy critter?”

Mangy? Amber yowled. I'll forgive the insult, for now. I need you to... meddle.

"But you just..." Vexing, contradictory creature.

Meddling has its advantages. Just don't tell Joslyn I said so.

The woman’s skin blends into the gray of the bark, her body melded with the tree. And she weeps.

The mage Jasp spent the last two decades shuttered away in his crumbling mansion, mourning the loss of his wife, Yetta – his guilt and a couple of stone-brained gargoyles his only companions. He intends to continue his self-inflicted solitude, until the calico cat Amber appears. A malicious mage is imprisoning women and draining their life force. Amber insists the great and powerful Jasp must save them.

Jasp’s memory of Yetta spurs him to act. Making no promises, he follows Amber to the weeping women in the woods. But it’s not as simple as freeing them. It never is.

Wednesday, December 02, 2015

Chains of Nect: Obsidian's Obsession - Chapter 18

DISCLAIMER: This is rough draft material. Don't be surprised if you fall into plot holes, trip over inconsistencies, and get hit in the head with direction changes. I've done my best to read through several times before posting, though, to make sure most spelling and grammar errors are corrected. Any constructive comments are welcome for when I revise this novel. Thank you for reading!

All current and previous chapters for Chains of Nect: Obsidian's Obsession can also be found on Wattpad. And for an easy to access list of all chapters that have been posted to Born to Write, please visit the Table of Contents.

A new chapter is planned to be posted to Wattpad every Friday, and that chapter will then be posted on Born to Write on the Wednesday after.

Chapter 17

* * * * *

Chains of Nect: Obsidian's Obsession

Chapter 18

Bishop wove his way through the grasses, the two Guardians keeping close behind him, knowing exactly how he'd play things once he reached Nect. Not things, no, but Obsidian.

She had a thing for him, and aside from the flush of her cheeks when he was close to her, the warning she had offered him only confirmed his suspicions. Damian planned to cut ties with Bishop, abandon him to the abyss of the portal.

Not that he was surprised. Deception was expected from a Guardian--that's what they were best at.

Sid's reaction, though--now that hadn't been expected. Good thing he'd saved her. Soon enough, he'd have her doing things for him that she'd never dreamed of. Betraying all the other Guardians for a start.

Not that he was an expert at manipulating women. His studies had kept him from any real social interaction, aside from his tutors. They'd plucked him from his family young. That was the best way to build and nurture magic--start early.

That wouldn't stop him from playing Sid like a piano. Or at least trying.

They stepped up to the edge of the abyss. Though Bishop couldn't see the gate due to the fog and darkness, he heard it. It sang out to him, caressing him with its song.

Open me. Enter me. Make me live.

Gladly. And he finally had the tools to grant its wish.

"No crawling this time," he said. "Be confident. Walk across as though you own the chain. That shouldn't be too hard for a couple of Guardians."

"Obsidian isn't--"

"So you've told me." Damian was a man who preferred to conform to rules, set guidelines. No wonder why he didn't want Bishop to cross through. "You first."

Damian leveled a stare at him that would curdle most people's insides. Bishop wasn't most people. "Fine." He strode out onto the first link, not even lifting his arms for balance. Bishop had to admit the Guardian had courage. Or he was just stubborn and wanted to show off for Sid.

"You next, Not Yet a Guardian." He offered his hand. "I'll be right behind you, to keep you safe."

Sid looked at his hand and her lips twisted as if she'd bitten into a lemon, then walked passed him and onto the chain, following close behind Damian's methodical footsteps.

Maybe he had been wrong about her, read the signs wrong. Or he'd have to change tactics on how he addressed her. That had to be it--something distasteful had come out of his mouth. No more pointing out her weaknesses. He'd try that.

The chain's heartbeat vibrated under Bishop's feet, quickening as he traversed it. The thing loved him. If he asked nicely, he could probably convince it to knock Damian off. Take care of him first.

Unfortunately, that would likely turn Sid against him. And if she wasn't a full Guardian yet, it might prove difficult once they reached the other side. No, he needed Damian. He'd just have to be extra careful. And like Sid had said, hold on tight.

They all crossed safely without a tiny rumble from the chain. Sid's body relaxed when she looked up at the gate. No matter how she had acted, clearly she had been terrified to venture onto the links again.

He wondered if she felt the same pull that he did. And here, right in front of the portal with Nexus scrawled in ancient script at its pinnacle, the yearning enveloped him, as thick as the fog they had passed through. For once, he could fulfill that desire.

Bishop walked up to the gate and stroked the arch, the magic twirling around his finger and winding up his arm. Oh, how wonderful it would feel to open it, to experience its full power coursing through him.

Damian yelped.

"You think you own the gate now?" He should have shoved the Guardian off of the chain.

"No. But old habits die hard." Damian placed the lantern in the well beneath the arch. "When you've been taught to touch a portal is the worst punishable action, even greater than murder, seeing someone touch it evokes a certain response."

A law forbidding people to touch the gates. What had happened to cause the Guardians to act so drastically? Bishop knew there were other worlds out there aside from Turss and Nect, but he had never imagined the Guardians had ceased to visit all those worlds. Can't plunder if you remain on your own ship.

"Take us home, Bishop," Sid said. Her voice was quiet, almost a whisper, as if all the energy had been sapped out of her.

"As you wish." He removed the unicorn hairs from his pocket and twined them around the lantern. Then he flicked it on, the light casting ominous shadows around the portal. He had made the correct choice, right? Those shadows looked as if they would leap up and sink their teeth into him.

All in his head. This was what he'd wanted ever since he first laid eyes on the gate. And it would be grand to go to Nect and return a hero. He had turned the phone off immediately after pressing send, tucking it back under his pillow. To risk detection from Damian and Sid, that's what he'd told himself.

But he knew he didn't want to see the response, to possibly see the order to stand down and hand over the Guardians and book to the Sect. They wouldn't take away his glory, or his chance to open the gate.

"Everything alright?" Sid asked.

Bishop jolted out of his thoughts, realizing he stood there with his hand on the lantern switch. "Yes, fine." He turned to her. "A hair pin, please?"

She handed one over.

"Give me some space while I do this."

They both backed up. "Just don't hit me on the head with the book," Damian said.

"What?" But when he glanced at them and saw the intensity of Sid's glare at Damian, he realized the statement was clearly a jab at her. That must have been how he had gotten the dried blood in his hairline. What he would have given to know exactly what events unfolded to lead to their arrival in Turss.

Bishop shook his head and put the two of them out of his mind. He needed to concentrate, no distractions or interruptions, or this spell wouldn't take hold, and the poor portal would weep and moan at him more than it already did.

First, he wet his fingers with spit and turned a small amount of dirt into mud. With this, he wrote the symbol for Nexus on the outside of the lantern, making the shadows it cast look even stranger.

Then he knelt and carefully drew the words in the dirt right before the gate, each stroke perfect. With the correct completion of each word, he felt a jolt at the tips of his fingers through the pin. The power of the magic made him giddy, but he needed to keep his emotions in check, or it would all fall flat. And if it did, that loss of magic right when he was on the edge of glory would rip his heart out.

The final stroke, and the pin in his hand trembled.

Yes, done.

Now to solidify the script. This had to be perfect as well. He squeezed the book under his arm, hoping he could handle the onslaught of magic as he completed the spell. A spell that only Guardians had been allowed to cast until now. Did the two behind him realize that? Damian would have a stroke if he knew he allowed another rule to be broken.

No matter.

He stood, careful not to mar the words he'd just painstakingly etched in the ground. "A single chain connects to the next world. And that world pulls all chains toward it." As he spoke the words, the gate's song grew, a beautiful aria, a long note crescendoing, waiting for the next. "Turss beckons, forever an appendage, a part of the whole."

The next note hit a pitch so high that he thought his ears bled, but when he touched one, there was nothing there. If he wanted peaceful music, he had to finish. Not as if he knew much about peace, though. Not in Turss.

"The life of one world feeds the life of all. But the life of the one I call to must flourish, lest all the other worlds die." The note pierced his brain and the portal begged him to finish it, to end its pain, push it over the edge. One more word. "Nexus."

And the gate's song struck ecstasy. The ground rumbled beneath Bishop's feet, a wall of magic slamming into him, both things causing him to stumble backward. A small swirl of fire started in the center, then expanded until it reached the edges, a glorious whirlwind.

He wanted to feel this power forever, to bathe in its flow, its pounding against his body.

But he knew that wasn't possible, not if he still planned to become a hero. The portal couldn't remain open forever, though it was the one thing he was taught to do, to desire. Someone had to pass through, from either side. And when that happened, it would close, and the magic would be gone.

"Time to go," Damian said, approaching Bishop.

No, a moment longer. He wanted to bask in the power. Did this stupid Guardian not feel it? Or maybe he just didn't care.

Damian offered Bishop his hand. "We need to be connected."

Bishop's goal and immediate danger snapped back into his mind, pushing away the magic he'd happily drown in if he was allowed to. He needed to hold onto Sid, not this fool, but he found himself accepting the offered hand. Let this Guardian try to kill him. "May we all pass through the fire unscathed."

For a long minute, Damian met his gaze. Something deep in his eyes seemed to falter, a quick pulling together of his eyebrows, wrinkling the spot between them. So brief that when it was gone, Bishop wasn't sure if he'd actually seen it or not. "You first, Obsidian." Damian grabbed her hand when it looked like she was about to protest. "We need to go before someone on the other side notices the gate is open."

Sid sighed, retrieved the pin from Bishop, tucking it into a pocket inside her cloak, then walked toward the swirling flames.

They all followed, links, just like the chain.

Bishop whipped his head around for one last glance of his fog covered world. "I'll be back," he muttered. Then held tight as he plunged into the fire.

The sudden cold shocked him, his instant reaction loosening his hold on Damian. That was it, the Guardian would take advantage of this misstep, and Bishop would be lost in this wintry in between forever.

Instead, Damian squeezed tighter, his fingernails digging into Bishop's flesh.

And then the cold subsided, only the normal feel of night air touched his skin. Now, Damian released him. They were all safe on the other side.

Bishop watched the Guardian, who was looking around and above, then bending over to touch the ground. Either Damian had changed his mind about releasing Bishop or Sid had lied to him. He wasn't sure why the former would be true--an added mystery to the last couple of hours of new experiences.

But if it was the latter, it was possible Sid had tried to fool him, to get him to think she was enamored with him. Clearly he needed to reconsider the possible machinations going on inside her head. He'd assumed she was harmless. With the magic flowing inside of her though, there could be a lot more to her than he realized.

Speaking of magic, he turned to the gate, watching the swirling fire dissipate down to nothing.

That's all he could do, though, was watch. He felt nothing. Not even a hint of power.

And once the portal completely closed, all it was to him was a stone arch--it didn't call to him like it had in his world. Not a single note. The song had ended.

That loss raked Bishop's chest. He looked up at the script over the gate, the one that clearly said Turss, and he wondered if losing the call of the magic was worth becoming a hero.

* * * * *

Chapter 19

Wednesday, May 20, 2015

Roland

This is a really hard post to write. I've posted about losing pets before, but at the end of April we lost our almost 14-year-old black cat. He was the sweetest and most loveable cat, and he was my Buddy Boy. Before we had our kids, he would make sure to nap in whatever room I was in. Even after the kids, when I was at the computer at night before bed, most times he'd be curled up near me on my husband's chair. Saying I was very attached to him is an understatement. So, I'm going to dive in with a list of all the things I remember about my unique kitty, a kind of kitty I know I will never likely own again. I reserve the right to edit this post in the future to add anything I forgot (there's just so much and my memory can be wonky).

❦ Roland was named after...yup, Roland from Stephen King's Dark Tower series!

❦ He was one of the meowiest (is that a word?) kitties I have ever known. We knew from the first night we got him as a kitten that we would never have a quiet night again while he was around! Therefore two of his nicknames were Mr. Meow and Meowhead. His purr was also crazy loud.

❦ He was also our Crooked Kitty. His tail had a notch at the base, and a couple notches at the tip. We don't know if he was born that way or if he got hurt as an itty bitty kitty before we adopted him. When I was taking a ceramics class in college, I made him a crooked bowl that said Crooked Kitty.

❦ He was our Great One-Armed Hedgehog Hunter! He loved to bring us presents--mostly sparkle balls, but one of his favorites was the hedgehog (which only had one arm). During the day he'd bring it downstairs, then at night while we were crawling into bed, he'd bring it back upstairs. Of course, he'd meow the whole way on his trek with the cat toy in his mouth. We knew he was coming!

❦ Oh, and he was part dog. He enjoyed playing fetch with his sparkle balls. AND he loved to dig. No, not in dirt, but in blankets. Many a time I ended up sitting on him on the bed because he dug his way under the blankets.

❦ He had a little black cauldron full of his sparkle balls. He loved picking those things out of there.

❦ We constantly had to clear sparkle balls out of his food bowl because he thought that's where he needed to deposit them. And he preferred to drink water by dipping his paw in the water and licking the water off his paw. NO cup filled with water in the house was safe. Many times I found an untended cup of water with litter in the bottom. Ew!

❦ He enjoyed chewing the tails off of his toy mice. He also enjoyed chewing string in half. He'd always ruin the ball of string for one of our other cats that's no longer with us. Pikachu loved them. Roland would not only chew the end off, but for good measure he'd chew it into several little bits (he never ate any of the bits, though).

❦ He was our Needy/Kneady Kitty. The first because he shamed those people that claim cats are independent. He wanted attention. And then he wanted more. If we locked him out of our bedroom temporarily, we heard his unhappy meows begging to be let back in. He insisted the first thing we did when we woke in the morning was give him itchings. The kneady part though was because he loved to knead. Especially our jeans...when they were ON us. I was insanely glad that we had his front claws removed because then we could allow him to knead to his heart's content (though he still managed to knead a hole into the corner of our current bed skirt--heh).

❦ Sometimes he would lie on his back and play with his tail. It was his way of trying to get our attention (it worked most of the time).

❦ At night, he preferred sleeping in between my husband and me, but when the kids took that spot, he decided sleeping on my husband's pillow was the next best thing. Who wouldn't want back claws tangling in their hair at night?

❦ That meow I mentioned? Yup, our little alarm clock...usually earlier than we intended to get up. And when going to bed, he would meow for a good 10-15 minutes too because, no it's not bedtime, it's love the Roland time.

❦ Being a silly human, I used to sing "Roland, Roland, Roland. Meow, meow!" to the "Rawhide" song.

❦ As mentioned he was my Buddy Boy--probably his most used nickname. Baby Boy Kitty, Little Black Cat, Monster Meow, Fuzzy Boy. More nicknames. He had so many! (For a short time at the end, he was also Demon Kitty, due to his glowing eyes in a picture I had taken of him.)

I feel like there should be a lot more to this list. We had nearly 14 years with Roland, but it's so hard to remember all the crazy, silly, lovable things he did. Perhaps this list is enough, but my heart says it isn't, merely because it will never encompass and truly show what kind of kitty Roland was. It'll have to do though.

NEXT UP: The Plan (What's this? Is the suspense killing you yet?)