Story Snippet: Wrought of Serpent and Snow (Lizzie)

I've very excited to share a scene from my seventh novel, Wrought of Serpent and Snow (Of Made Magic book 2) for this week's Story Snippet. WoSaS is the sequel to Wrought of Silver and Ravens, a high fantasy Twelve Dancing Princesses retelling.

In this scene, Athdar and his friends Galen (the captain of the Silver Guard and his mentor/father figure), Bane, Murray, and Katib (a new character), have snuck into a bewitched castle to grab a few maps. In the previous book, the villainous Prince Cerav of Rusceon had the princesses of Giliosthay create a magic-wrought glass model of their castle, giving him a certain amount of power over it. They royal family was forced to abandon the castle, but our hero and his friends need to recover a few items from it. Their hopes of not being discovered don't go so well.

The walls around them were fast losing their color. From the corners toward them, the hallway was turning to glass.

“Galen!” Athdar cried.

“Jump on! Quick!” Galen dropped the thin boards in front of their feet with an urgent command Athdar didn’t recognize. The boards ceased their fall to hover a handspan above the floor. Galen jumped on the one nearest him and balanced on it.

Not quite sure how they were going to get anywhere on floating boards, Athdar leapt onto his and nearly tumbled off as the board shifted forward.

“Not like that!” Galen yanked him back on, and, together, they wrestled the board until Athdar stood steady. Murray rocked on his but managed to stay on. 

Galen released Athdar, checked on Murray with a curt nod, then jerked his chin down the colorless hallway. “Let’s go.”

Murray stared dumbly at him. “How? And I can see the room below us!” The floor was now completely transparent.

“Magic, of course. Do not step off these things unless you want to become a statue.”

“But we don’t have much mag—” magic stored. Athdar’s protest ended with an “oomph” as Galen sent a large, brightly colored globe of magic barreling into him, then another into Murray. He flew forward, and they cried out as the boards shot forward likewise, following him. He snagged them both by the arm, steadying them. 

“Hold on to my cloak for now,” he shouted over a rush of air as they moved through the hallway. “But don’t expect to have that help when you get to this stage in your training officially.”

Nodding because he didn’t have a voice currently, Athdar grabbed a handful of Galen’s silver-lined cloak. The two riderless boards flew ahead of them at the pace of a diving raven. The sense of glass chased them as walls blurred past.

“How do we steer?” Murray asked as Galen let them go now that they had a hold on him. 

“You don’t—I do. You just stay on!”

Piqued by the challenge in Galen’s tone, Athdar eased himself out of his timid crouch.

“Bane!” Galen cried. “Where are you?”

“This way! Hurry!” cried a rough voice from the leftward hallway ahead.

“We’re coming!” Galen steered them that way, but something in Athdar shuddered at the voice. They were going away from the library, toward one of the chambers designed to be sealed off in case the castle was breached.

“Hurry!” Bane cried as they neared the thick-walled doorway.

There was no sense of enchanters that way. Magic, but not enchanters.

“No! That’s not them!” Athdar and Murray both cried as Athdar jerked on Galen’s cloak. 

The sense of something slammed into him, pressing against his chest and waving through his short hair like water. He tried to cry out, but found he couldn’t breathe. They were going to drown dry.

As Athdar’s chest burned and begged for air, the boards spun around and raced back the way they’d come. Galen threw out one arm in front of him and jerked it back toward his body. A stream of rolling light shot from the room beyond to them, splitting into three shield-sized, wavering bubbles before enveloping each of them.

“Breathe! And warn me earlier next time!” Galen’s order had the garbled sound of words heard underwater, but Athdar didn’t need them repeated to obey.

A tail stretched from each of the bubbles to wherever Galen had called the air, and they followed those as Athdar stretched his senses for Bane. He was above and beyond them, descending fast.

“Bane will be at the stairs!” he cried, gesturing toward that particular stairway.

Galen shifted their direction. The pressure on Athdar’s chest eased, and the bubble of air popped. His breath of relief was cut short by the sight of the city through the glass wall ahead. He got the feeling getting out of the castle would not be as easy as simply floating to a door. He’d have to figure out how to handle the board so he’d have both hands free for whatever was coming next.

“Bane!” Galen roared as he slowed them to a halt at the intersection of hallways nearest the stairs. He gave Athdar a sideways glance as Athdar tightened his grip on Galen’s cloak to test out the board’s movements with his own motions. It responded to his movements more predictably than he’d anticipated. He smiled smugly. He could get the hang of this. Eventually. 

“Bane!” Galen roared again.

“Coming!” came an annoyed reply.

Bane and Katib surged around the corner and sprinted toward them, glass chasing them. Bane, a bulging satchel slung across his chest, ran with his palm extended out before him. The floor shimmered in a long rectangle under and in front of him and Katib. A smaller shimmer often overlaid it at Katib’s feet. Bane was literally shielding them from the glass curse trying to catch them. 

“Turn around and don’t stop moving!” Bane shouted before glancing at Katib. “Your shields are decent, kid, but do not give out.”

The boy was breathing heavily and his eyes were a bit wide, but he nodded and kept pace with Bane. 

Then he yelped as something transparent, fluid, and fast leapt from the wall in front of him and solidified. 

“Or lose focus!” Bane shoved Katib back as he sent a blaze of blue magic at a leaping, snarling piece of glass that resembled a—

“Did a glass fox just burst out of the wall?” Murray shrieked as the creature’s well-toothed mouth melted and streamed down to the floor. Its body, streaked with fiery yellows and reds, followed, disappearing into the transparent floor. 

“Jackal,” Galen said, his voice unusually tense. “They have jackals in Rusceon.”

“That’s a really demanding spell,” Bane said between pants as he jumped on one of the two free boards and helped Katib onto the last one. “We might need a better solution.”

To Athdar’s satisfaction, even Bane grunted and swayed as they shot down the hallway again. 

A tremor of magic passed through the castle, and Athdar’s heart sank. Cerav had enchanters helping him.

But that also meant the enchanters had to be touching the glass model to control it.

“How about an exit?” Murray cried as five more glass jackals were birthed from the wall ahead of them. Teeth bared, the jackals jumped to the floor and crouched to spring. 

“Grab the magic and push it back, Murray!” Athdar yelled as Bane shouted a warning of more creatures behind them.

Athdar swept around Galen as the enchanter melted one jackal and slammed a magical shield into another, sending it back but not destroying it. Athdar knelt, Murray doing the same. Calling a protective magic from the rings against his chest into his hands, Athdar trailed his fingers carefully over the glass floor, catching the sense of magic fueling the jackals. He snapped it and shoved stored magic and a sleeping spell into the retreating tail, back at Cerav’s enchanters. 

The remaining jackals vanished.

“That works too,” Galen said approvingly as he caught Athdar’s arm and helped him stand.

“I don’t think it will work twice,” Athdar said. Cerav was a half-magic, and now he knew another half-magic was here. He could also remove the sleep spell from his enchanters.

Straining to keep his sense of magic alert as well as his normal instincts active—and keep his footing on a floating board—Athdar watched the walls regain their color around them. 

“There’s still a sense of glass. Don’t be fooled,” he warned, but he needn’t have bothered. Galen kept them soaring down one passageway to the next, some Athdar didn’t remember connecting quite the way they did now. 

After the fifth turn, Athdar got a sinking sensation they weren’t truly going anywhere. Having a model of the castle, Cerav would know if Galen were directing them toward an exit. Apparently, he could shift the rooms.

Someone drew breath to speak, and Galen said hastily, “I don’t know about you, but I could use a drink.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Bane replied, his breathing heavier than Athdar liked. Galen and Bane were powerful, Katib strong, but none were inexhaustible. Galen and Bane weren’t exactly young either.

Out of the corner of his eye, Athdar saw Murray start, a look of disappointment in his expression. But none of the Silver Guard were like Murray’s uncle, seeking escape in a bottle, giving it control over him and freeing the evil inside him.

They might be seeking escape where bottles were stored though. The anchor to the Realm of Coryruso was hidden in the wine cellar, which, as he sought out in his mind the map of the castle Galen had made him memorize, lay not far ahead but quite a ways down. If no one realized their path and shifted the rooms. As he considered the fastest way down to the cellar, he got a bad feeling the levitation spell Galen was using on the boards did not work for flying.

“Did you bring those pebbles of yours?” Galen whispered. 

Like his parents’ rings, Athdar never left the ravenstone behind. “Yes—”

“Balcony ahead,” Katib said hopefully as a soft sense of magic rose in front of them.

“These don’t fly,” Galen said meaningfully as they approached an outer wall. It opened to a balcony and a view of the city that had never been there before, or sensed of magic before.

“And that’s no exit,” Murray retorted. “Does Prince Cerav think us stupid?”

Athdar doubted that, which meant the magic of the mirage was a distraction.

“I don’t know, but if any of you three want to scream like a girl,” Bane rasped, “there’s an open window behind that mirage. The whole city outside could probably—”

As if freed by that odd permission, Athdar cried out and Murray screamed as the room shifted to glass and a dozen rows of jackal heads, maws open, popped up through the floor in front of them. Athdar jumped, his board skimming a jackal as one clamped down on Murray’s board. Murray flew forward as his board jammed into the glass jaw. 

“Murray!” Athdar shunted what magic he had left into a spiked shield before his and Galen’s feet, shattering the growing group of waiting jackals as Galen yanked Murray from his fall and thrust him back to Bane.

An unearthly note, one too high for Athdar to imagine any male making—even a seventeen-year-old—screeched out behind and to his left, magic mingling with it. The thin tip of an ear chipped off the jackal head at his feet. A tooth may have cracked on another.

A blaze of magic from Bane and Galen hit the jackals but only melted their mouths shut. 

“Pebbles! Now!” Galen clamped a hand on Athdar’s shoulder, pushing magic into him as Athdar pulled out the seven ravenstones from his pouch and threw them at the glass floor. 

“Eitilt go tapa, eitilt fíor! Fly swift, fly true!”

The stones spread out, two to each side and a spine of three, as a shimmer of feathers darkened the air.

Glass shattered, and Galen threw down a shield as an ethereal raven burst through the floor, a shard of glass in its beak. Athdar’s stomach tightened as they plummeted after it, his cloak flying up around him, the board falling away to who knew where. 

The glass in the raven’s beak touched the solid floor beneath. The stone faded into glass and burst, and they followed the raven through, toward a darkened cellar. Galen released Athdar, and the raven faded, shrinking slowly so that Athdar caught all seven stones as he passed.

A rack of wine casks loomed beneath them.

“Got it!” Bane yelled. 

Feeling suddenly light, Athdar’s descent was slowed and diverted as a blunt-ended, spiked shield of magic hit him, pushing him away from the racks, toward the open area by the storage closet door. Their broken boards lay beside it on a floor quickly vanishing into glass.

“Grab hold!” Bane ordered. 

Wrapping an arm around a shield spike, Athdar obeyed, and from Bane’s grunt, he guessed everyone else did as well. The shields lowered them slowly.

The storage closet door opened at a word from Galen, and they threw themselves inside. Athdar felt again the familiar yet odd sense of magic as they entered the Realm of Coryruso. They dropped to the floor as the shields disappeared.

If you enjoyed the snippet, Wrought of Serpent and Snow is available for pre-order and releases December 9. With friendship, adventure, found family, and romance, it's fun, clean read. If you haven't read book 1, Wrought of Silver and Ravens is available here.

Story Snippets: Dawn Bringer (The Star Clock Chronicles #1) by E.J. Kitchens

While I'm working on my next Magic Collectors novel, I decided to finish and publish a collection of shorter steampunk stories I wrote a couple of years ago. They are fun, adventure-filled stories perfect for short reads. Here's a snippet from book 1 of The Star Clock Chronicles, which I hope to release in a few months.

The Star Clock Chronicles

In a world where building a clock is treason and moon and sun are myths, three airship captains and a reformed pirate fight for freedom and truth … and a glimpse of the stars.

Dawn Bringer

Chapter 1

No sun ever rose, no moon ever waxed or waned, no stars ever danced a rhythmic pattern across the night sky. Only faerie crystals brightening and dimming according to one man’s will signaled dawn and dusk, month and season. Long ago, the faerie queen Morgan Unseelie cast a veil between heaven and earth, obscuring all heaven’s lights, for the pleasure and power of a mortal man, who then fashioned himself the Rí Am, the Time King. From all other mortals, she took away knowledge of time and direction and skill of navigation. Man was dependent on the Rí Am’s automaton navigators and fell into the myth that it was the faerie queen, through the Rí Am’s intercession, who gave them the sky crystals in the veil for light and the automatons for travel and trade. For this, the queen was hailed as the Giver of Light, a goddess. And that was a greater offense to some than the Rí Am’s cruelty. Those few who kept the true faith—belief in the celestial lights and their Maker—called themselves Sky Keepers and refused to pay homage to the queen and her time king, often at great cost. Some Sky Keepers prayed for the faerie veil to fall, others merely for a way to circumvent the Rí Am’s control. But neither expected the storm of change approaching them.

    Bertram Orren was bone weary, but then so was everyone else on the island of Sheffield-on-the-Sea. After spending the wee hours going out in a rough sea as far as they could to salvage what they could of the crew and cargo of the airship Dawn Bringer, even the Time Keeper patrols were heading to bed for the few hours remaining until dawn.

    At least, that was what Bertram was counting on. The Time Keepers might not be mourning the loss of most of the ordered food supplies, but everyone on the island not on the Rí Am’s pay was. Something had to be done about the root cause of the impending food shortage, and it was his night to do so. The Rí Am’s fish quota was so high, the island of fishermen had to rely on crops—and it was easier to do something about the faerie than it was the Rí Am.

    Hoisting his gunnysack over his shoulder, Bertram dragged himself over a low rock wall—a warning more than a barrier—and plodded up the forested hillside. About thirty feet in, he pulled a large ball of twine from his sack and tied one end of the twine to a rowan tree so the faeries couldn’t move it. He arranged the ball in its special holster on his belt so it could unwind with ease as he walked, then continued on, walking fast. He had to make it to an area he hadn’t already searched before his time and energy gave out.

    Not that he would know his time was running short before it was too late. He depended on the Time Keepers to signal the start and end of each school day, and the loudest stomach among his students for the lunch hour. But for roaming forbidden, faerie-infested woods? When the sky crystals brightened. His jaw clenched. One day that would change. But as for knowing when his energy would give out… He stumbled over a fallen limb he’d missed during a prolonged blink and rubbed his eyes as encouragement for them to stay open.

    “Wait! Please!” A woman’s voice.

    A sudden spike in heart rate did the trick, however. Bertram froze.

    Further up the hill, a light held by a dark little figure dodged between trees on a sure path to the ruins at the summit.

    Bertram counted to ten, slowly. So the will-o’-the-wisps were trying the damsel-in-distress tactic now too, were they? Tired of pretending to be lost little children to lure you after them?

    When the light disappeared, followed by another pleading cry, he continued on, skirting more to the right than he’d originally planned. Would a will-o’-the-wisps be seen far or near to the faerie mound? 

    About twenty feet later, his heart rate spiked again, this time thanks to the broken glass that nearly went through his boot sole. With a sense of foreboding, Bertram raised his lantern. Broken branches, shards of glass, a busted lantern, the twisted metal of an Escaper, an escape vehicle for an airship. No bodies.

    With a curse, Bertram dashed back through the woods, his twine thankfully reeling itself back in, until he reached the spot where he’d heard the cry, then plunged up the hill.

    “Wait! Don’t follow that light,” he shouted.

    The trees thinned, replaced by jutting rocks as he hit the old path winding up to the ruins of an ancient tower. Was it bad of him to wish the woman wounded? Just enough so she wasn’t too far ahead of him. 

    

    Rain began pelting him, the wind rising for another storm. He rounded a curve of the hill. About twenty feet ahead, a woman half-jogged, half-staggered after the faerie light. He winced as she stumbled next to a rocky precipice.

    “Stop! I’ll help you!” But his cries were drowned out by a crack of thunder.

    The will-o’-the-wisp’s light disappeared, as did the woman, but her scream lingered.

    “Lady!” he cried.

    

    Lightning flashed to his left. Bertram darted right. Into nothing.

#

    “Darn, darn, darn.” Bertram pushed into a seated position on the damp rock. This was not how he’d hoped to find a faerie mound. He didn’t have to look up to know the opening he’d fallen through was no longer there. It’d been created by a will-o’-the-wisps in solid rock and was now solid rock again.

Blasted faerie. He wrinkled his nose. Even if he ever escaped, he’d probably never lose that sickeningly sweet, nectar-like odor the creatures favored. At least, it was stale here. Not an active faerie mound then. Not what he needed to find, but it was a safer place to be.

    “You really must work on your vocabulary, sir.”

    Bertram startled and glanced around. About ten feet away, leaning against a tree stump that looked suspiciously as if it wanted to be believed a pile of ancient ruins, was the woman he’d failed to save from this fate. She was very pale, except where blood darkened her brow. Her hair, tangled and loose, was at odds with her dress: the smart, tailored skirt and jacket over a corset and blouse of an airship officer. Not surprisingly, a revolver and knife decorated her belt. Pain might currently be adding a few years to her age, but she looked about thirty. Either way, the age looked well on her. She held his lantern, miraculously still lit, close to her chest, seemingly as possessive of its warmth as its light.

    “You really must work on your hearing as well as your vocabulary, it seems.” She flinched as she shifted. He noted the flash of light against the metal of a PullLine gauntlet strapped about one arm, the one not cradled to her chest. So that was how she’d gotten his lantern—using the PullLine. 

    Bertram’s heart twisted at her pain, but he didn’t think it best to express sympathy. He forced a surly tone. “Really, Miss—”

    “It’s Captain, and you should’ve said, ‘Ca-tas-tro-phe!’ It has more syllables in which to express your rage.”

    Bertram tamed a smile and pulled his gunnysack into his lap. Thank heavens he’d packed his medical kit. “The repetition stresses the idea just fine.”

    “Mayhap, but it’s pretentious of a poacher to use such mild exclamations.”

    “I am not a poacher.” Bertram pulled out his water canteen and the medical kit and staggered up, wincing. Bruised but not broken, as the saying went.

    “Oh, really?” She gave his sack a significant look as he handed her the canteen.

    “If you’re angling for a brace of pheasants, you’re going to be sorely disappointed.” Helping her lean forward, he draped his jacket about her shoulders. “I don’t share.” He knelt beside her and doused a cloth with antiseptic.

    “I suspected a selfish nature.” She hissed as Bertram gently wiped the blood from her temple.

    “Which hurt needs attention, do you think?” he asked.

    She indicated her head and arm, and he gently worked her torn, bloodied jacket down her arms and off. 

“There’s nothing to do about the ribs but wait it out, I fancy,” she said as he slid his jacket back over her shoulders.

    Agreeing, he quickly cleaned the gash on her head and arm, noting that her arm was going to need more work than her head: a tight bandage for a sprained wrist and stitching for a gash on her forearm.

    He retrieved the needle and thread from the medical kit but paused before sterilizing them, studying the woman’s dreadfully pale face and closed eyes. He’d have to approach this delicately. “Catastrophe, catastrophe, ca-tas-tro-phe!”

    She cracked one eye open, noted the implements in his hand, then shut her eye again, her mouth forming a hard line. “I’m impressed, sir. You’re a fast learner.”

    “There’s no one like a hardened smuggler to teach one foul language.”

    The woman’s eyes opened wide in alarm, her gaze raking over his outfit. Searching for the Time Keeper insignia, no doubt. He gave her a roguish grin, and she relaxed back against the ruins with a tired smile. The smile quickly flattened as he handed her a flask of brandy and indicated he was about to begin stitching her arm.

    “Marianna Bowditch, captain of the Dawn Bringer, I presume?”

    “At your service.” She sipped the brandy. “You’re a receiver of smuggled goods then? Almost as nefarious as a poacher.” She gritted her teeth but held still as he worked. He had to give her credit for toughness. Not that he should be surprised. The Bowditch captains weren’t known for softness. They weren’t real smugglers, in truth, but honest captains brave enough to carry goods for the Sky Keepers, those fighting in big and small ways against the Rí Am and his Time Keepers. Many, but not all, of the Sky Keepers still believed in the Maker and his Word, and had hope that there was a sun and stars beyond the Crystal Veil that formed their sky.

    “Bertram Orren,” he answered, “local schoolmaster and unofficial doc … and nephew to the first mate of your brother Davy’s airship.” And because of his relationship to one of the Bowditch crew, he helped arrange for the smuggling of needed goods the Time Keepers didn’t want them to have, as well as the transport of legal goods.

To Catch a Magic Thief by E.J. Kitchens (Laurie)

In case you missed it, our own E.J. Kitchens (affectionately known around Lands Uncharted as Lizzie) released a new book in February! Check out her fun release day post here :)  I had the great honor of reading an early copy of To Catch a Magic Thief and endorsing it, and now I'm excited to share my review with all of you!

Gabriella is the second daughter in the beautiful, prestigious Floraison family. While she possesses the pride that comes along with her family's striking looks and lofty position, she also harbors a dark secret - she has a sinister scar on her finger and dreams that seem to link her to the evil sorcerers. When Marcel, a new student of her father's, keeps crossing her path, Gabriella wants nothing to do with the awkward baron. But their lives become more and more entwined as they uncover evidence that the notorious Magic Thief has plans to strike the Floraison family, not only for their magical treasures, but for Gabriella herself.

Are you intrigued yet?? Because I got chills again just writing that! Like Kitchens' debut novel, The Rose and the Wand, To Catch a Magic Thief has a wonderful blend of magic, humor, adventure, and Jane Austen-esque romance. Just my kind of story! Her writing style is sophisticated but fun to read, and her world-building gets even more fascinating in this book as we learn more about sorcerers and magic collectors. I loved the organic way in which Gabriella and Marcel's relationship developed from annoyance and misunderstandings to working together to friendship (and maybe even beyond...). Their interactions had so many moments of both entertainment and deeper meaning as each character learned more about themselves and the other. I also really enjoyed the mystery behind the Magic Thief and Gabriella's scarred finger, adding a level of suspense that made me eager to keep reading!

If, like me, you're a fan of both fantasy and period romances, you absolutely need to give Kitchens' Magic Collectors series a try. I'm looking forward to future installments!


Have you read any of Lizzie's books yet? Do you have any other historical fantasy romance recommendations for me?


Thanks for reading!
Laurie


P.S. You'll get to hear about what Julie's been reading later this month - we switched to free up her time for some adventures this week :)

To Catch a Magic Thief Release and Ebook Giveaway! (Lizzie)

It finally happened! I published my second full-length novel. The second was so much harder than the first. But now it's out! And isn't the cover beautiful? To celebrate I'm giving away an ebook copy of both my books--To Catch a Magic Thief and The Rose and the Wand. But first let me tell you a little bit about the books.

A spunky heroine, an unlikely hero, a cunning thief, and a race against a terrifying curse--everything a reader could want in a fantasy adventure! Marcel and Gabriella are both easy to root for as they overcome obstacles and their own misconceptions, and their growing friendship against the odds is executed to perfection. E.J. Kitchens has once again created a world of elegant manners and complex magic that will both intrigue and enchant her readers through the very last page.~Laurie Lucking, award-winning author of Common

I wrote The Rose and the Wand because I wanted to know the story of the enchantress in Beauty and the Beast. I intended it to be a standalone story. But then I fell in love with one of the villains. I couldn't leave him a bad guy, so I started a story for him (which I'm still working on...). In his story, I met so many wonderful characters and discovered such a fascinating world of magic that I ended up with a dozen or so story ideas. During a break in writing the aforementioned story, I decided to go back to Alexandria's family and tell the story of how her sister Gabriella--one of the Perfect Floraisons--fell in love with the plain, bumbling baron Alexandria disliked so. I was shocked and excited to discover quite a bit of mystery, danger, secret identities, and even a terrifying curse, all playing out under Alexandria's very nose. Here's a blurb about the story:

Falsely accused of being the notorious Magic Thief, the non-magic Marcel Ellsworth, Baron of Carrington, wants nothing more than to stay away from enchanters and sorcerers. Unfortunately, he soon discovers his mentor, the Duke of Henly, is head of a family of proud enchanters—and that they’re the next target of the Magic Thief, a servant of the sorcerers. With the threat of another accusation hanging over him, Marcel sets out to prove his innocence, especially to the duke’s beautiful daughter Gabriella, and to stop the Thief once and for all.

But Gabriella is hiding a deadly secret that complicates Marcel’s mission, and raises its stakes. For one thing is certain: the Magic Thief has come for more than magical treasures—he’s come for Gabriella.

Fun facts

1) I intended To Catch a Magic Thief to be a simple romance telling how Gabriella and the “bumbling baron” Marcel Ellsworth fell in love. However, I soon discovered I could not directly write a romance. So I threw in a legendary thief, magical items to steal, a curse, and other dangers, and found the story (and the romance thread) much easier to write and so much more fun. This inability to write "simple" probably explains why my planned 20,000 word romance novella ended up 121,000 word fantasy adventure novel.

2) Marcel Ellsworth wears a lift in one shoe to make his legs even so he can walk without limping. I loved Janette Oke's books growing up, and this struggle of Marcel's was inspired by one of her books. The heroine in her mail order bride book A Bride for Donnigan had a bad limp because of uneven leg lengths. One detestable character tried to take advantage of her because of that, saying no one would love her due to her limp. She wisely didn't give in to him, and she ended up married to a wonderful man who made a special shoe for her to correct her leg lengths. That part of the story more than any other stuck with me for some reason. Almost prophetically actually. I have lower back problems, and sometimes it causes my spine to curve wrongly, causing my hips to tilt and one leg to be shorter that the other. At one point, my back just wasn't getting better and my chiropractor suggested that I might need a lift for one shoe to ease the strain on back. Fortunately, things straightened out (literally), so I never needed the lift. But I have a better understanding of Marcel and other's struggles now.

3) There are a lot lines in the book that I find myself repeating or smiling about as I remember them. Here's one that doesn't require a knowledge of the story to understand. It also just happens to be one of my favorites.

Giveaway

But on the giveaway. Gabriella is hiding a curse. Now this curse is different from Alexandria's and much more sinister. I can't say too much without giving away too much. Suffice it to say this isn't the kind of curse a kiss can cure, or even an admission of love. It's a kind of half-curse actually, drawing Gabriella to itself to complete the curse, like Sleeping Beauty is drawn to the spinning wheel and her doom. But what is this doom and can Gabriella escape it? Well, you'll have to read the story to find out. :) It's available to purchase on amazon here.

So for the giveaway, I'd like to know, if you were cursed, what kind of a curse would you choose? Answer in the comments. Next Friday, I'll pick one commenter at random to receive a set of my ebooks.