Natalina Reis's Blog, page 13
September 25, 2022
Daughter of the Moon Goddess – Review
Daughter of the Moon Goddess by Sue Lynn Tan
My rating: 5 of 5 stars
What a lovely book. From the beautiful cover to the themes and language of the story everything was beautiful. I’m a huge fan of C-Dramas and Chinese mythology so I dove in with enthusiasm. I was not disappointed. I must say that the extremely detailed description of the settings–however beautifully done–threw me off the story a bit (maybe because in my head I am already pretty familiar with the traditional Chinese historical fantasy settings and the description was just overkill) especially in the first half of the book, but everything else was perfect. And what a surprise–more like shock–about the huge plot twist toward the end. Love that kind of surprise and I so didn’t see it coming.
I have already pre-ordered the sequel so it’s safe to say this was a definite winner for me. Congrats, Ms. Tan!
September 23, 2022
Troy’s Happy Ending – Blog Tour
When life gives me lemons, I use them as ammunition. I’ve had to fight for my happy ending.”
Once upon a time, an outcast boy met the love of his life…which was quite a surprise considering he didn’t know he was gay.
Troy Merton wasn’t always Lone Wolves Ranch’s resident author and busybody. He was once a pregnant runaway teen battling pack alphas, kidnappers, and snotty rich omegas.
This is his story, from coming of age in the Black Hills of South Dakota to a happy ending with his fated mate, Ryan.
It’s the kind of tale TJ Macks would write…if it happened to someone else!
Universal Buy LinkGiveawayArdy is giving away a $20 Amazon gift card with this tour:
a Rafflecopter giveaway https://widget-prime.rafflecopter.com/launch.js
Direct Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d47256/?
Excerpt
A few dips in the dirt road woke Julian. He rubbed his eyes and peered out the RV window. “Turn right at the end of the fence.”
Ryan pulled up to a gate. A large man stepped out of the guard house at the side.
Julian rolled down his window. “Hey, Eddy.”
Eddy pulled out his clipboard. “You aren’t supposed to be back until tomorrow.”
“We had car trouble.” Julian gestured to the burnt-out vehicle being towed behind. “Ryan and Troy gave us a ride back.”
Eddy narrowed his eyes. “And who are Ryan and Troy?”
The back door popped open so fast, Eddy reached for his gun.
“I’m Troy. Ryan is behind the wheel. He’s alpha of the Black Hills pack, in case that gets us a discount on RV parking. We also have Triple A.”
“Anybody else inside?” Eddy asked.
Julian yawned. “Just my sisters.”
“I’ll have to check the vehicle.” Eddy drew his revolver and climbed the steps into the back.
“Well, aren’t you a unique welcome committee,” Troy mumbled.
Eddy scanned the interior. “Any weapons?”
“Just my sharp tongue,” Troy said. When Eddy growled, he added, “Let me guess. No sense of humor.”
“No.”
“Well, they say there’s someone for everybody, but you might just be the exception.”
Ryan put his hand on his mate’s shoulder. “Troy,” he warned.
“He pulled a gun on me,” Troy replied. “I’m allowed to be peevish.”
“He’s TJ Macks,” Sarah said, jumping to Troy’s defense. “The famous author.”
“I wouldn’t say famous,” Troy replied. “But I’m glad you did. Though I bet my next book will be even better. In fact, I think I’ve found my new villain.”
Eddy holstered his gun. “I’m going to have to call in before I can open the gate.” He went back to the guard house, but kept an eye on the RV while speaking into a walkie-talkie.
In a few minutes, a wolf ran to the gate. He shifted into his naked human form at the door of the RV. “Hi. I’m Mack. I’m pack leader for Lone Wolves Ranch.”
“What a pleasant surprise,” Troy said, staring at the newcomer.
“Not so peevish now?” Ryan whispered, before stepping in front of his mate to block the view. “I’m Ryan, pack leader of the Black Hills wolves.”
Ryan repeated their story, but before he could finish, a spry older woman pushed Mack out of the way and jumped inside the RV. She scanned the room before stalking toward Troy. Pulling his shirt up, she studied his belly. “You’re an omega. And you’ve had a cub.”
Troy pulled the hem of his shirt down. “Some things are private.”
Grabbing Troy’s hand, she pulled him to the door. “Come with me.”
Mack blocked the way. “Helen, what are you doing?”
“I’ve got an omega going into labor, and I’ve never delivered one before.”
“How many omegas do you have here?” Troy asked.
“Four, counting you,” Helen answered. “Now hurry.”
After watching the two disappear into the night, Mack stuck out his hand to Ryan. “Welcome to Lone Wolves Ranch.”
Troy followed Helen past rows of cottages to the one with lights blazing. She didn’t bother to knock as she pushed Troy inside.
A pregnant omega sat in an easy chair, whimpering softly, while his mate rushed to greet them. “Where have you been?”
“Getting backup,” Helen replied.
“I’m Troy.”
“Bill,” the anxious alpha replied, pointing to himself. “And Cory.”
“He’s kicking harder now,” Cory said.
“Or she,” Helen replied. She turned to the expert. “What do we do?”
Troy crossed the room and lifted Cory’s shirt. “He hasn’t sprung a leak yet. But we should get you undressed.”
He struggled to get the omega up out of the chair until Bill lent a hand. Troy put his hands on his hips. “When I gave birth, they had a chair with a motor to help you up. You may want to get one for next time.”
“There’s never going to be a next time,” Cory yelled.
“We’ll need some blankets and towels,” Troy informed Bill. “I suspect it’s going to get messy pretty soon. And you might want to get naked, too.”
Bill nodded. “For the cub?”
“No,” Troy replied. “But it will help me stay awake.”
There was a knock on the door, followed by Ryan’s voice. “Troy, are you in there?”
Troy frowned. “Better yet, keep your clothes on.”
It took fifteen minutes before water sprung from Cory’s birthing line, giving Troy enough time to extract the full story of Bill and Cory’s romance. The rest was quick. Once the cub (a girl) was delivered, they helped Cory shift to his wolf and then back to his healed human self.
“You’re unusually quiet,” Ryan said as the two walked back to their RV. “Are you thinking of having another baby?”
His mate knew him so well. “I don’t think Black Hills is ready to see a pregnant omega. They’re already barely civil to us.”
“Who doesn’t love a baby?”
Troy shrugged. “I was thinking of Cory and Bill’s cub. And Helen. She scared me until I saw her with the baby. There was love there.” Troy turned back to look at the cottage of the new parents. “I don’t think being an omega or the child of an omega is that big a deal here.”
“Maybe we can learn how they did it and bring it back to Black Hills.”
“Maybe. But Black Hills was never our dream. This might be the happiest I’ve been in months. The sad part is I didn’t even know how miserable I was. It felt normal.” He wrapped his arm through Ryan’s. “I’m scared when we go back, it will all feel normal again.”
“We don’t have to decide anything tonight,” Ryan said. “We’ve got a long drive back to figure it out. Let’s get some sleep. I think we earned it.”
Author Bio
Ardy Kelly is my paranormal pen-name. I’m an accountant by day, a Netflix junkie by night, and occasionally a weekend writer of the Lone Wolves Ranch omegaverse series.
When I’m not cursing myself for taking so long to produce a book I write the kind of stories I want to read, with an emphasis on humor, heart, and heat. My favorite characters are the ones who discover they aren’t as ordinary as society has led them to believe.
Author Website: https://www.robynkellyauthor.com/ardykellyauthor
Author Facebook (Author Page): https://www.facebook.com/ardy.kelly.35
Author Twitter: https://twitter.com/ArdyKelly
Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/18510291.Ardy_Kelly
Author QueeRomance Ink: https://www.queeromanceink.com/mbm-book-author/ardy-kelly/
Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Ardy-Kelly/e/B07J6N1HPL
September 18, 2022
Defeated
Yesterday I woke up feeling defeated. I didn’t get enough sleep, up for a large part of the night with a stupid pain I get once in a while. So maybe my sense of defeat came from the lack of sleep and the stubborn pressure pain in my lower back. Be that as it may, I felt like an utter failure.
We all want to make a difference in the world, one way or another, right? I’m no different. As a woman I wanted to be successful at my job, be it as a wife, a mother, a teacher, or a writer. We all want to leave a legacy of some kind. I am now sixty years old so my mortality is calling and reminding me that I have nothing to boast about, nothing to be remembered by when I leave this world.
I feel I failed at everything I did including being a mom and a wife. And I most definitely failed at being a writer. I have now twenty published works and I still don’t make enough money to keep up with my coffee habit, much less to make a living off of it. Every attempt I have made at marketing my work has failed miserably and the worst part is, I don’t understand why. I follow the advice of experts and friends alike who had at least some reasonable success with their marketing. I spend hours coming up with effective graphics, videos, whatever it’s needed, only for them to flop big time. I can’t even get people to download my free bonus materials.
I try to make sense of it and all I can think of is I’m stupid about these things and/or my books suck big time.
I have tried everything: Kindle Vella (not one free episode was downloaded), TikTok , Facebook, Instagram, paid promos, blog tours, free promos, videos, graphics, online events… by golly, I couldn’t even get other authors to help me with reposting my new releases (with some very notable exceptions. I do have a group of awesome online friends both authors and readers) which have been total flops every one of them.
It’s so bad that when I decided to do one of those Facebook fundraisers (not writing related) for my birthday to help a charity I have been sponsoring for many years, I managed to get ONE donation. One besides my own. It all can make you feel very lonely and unloved.
Yes, this is a whinny, self-indulgent blog but I had to let it out. I feel better today and I stay positive (for the most part) but this feeling creeps up pretty often. I have quit checking my sales as often. I have pretty much given up on checking for new reviews. I can’t justify spending the amount of money I have spent in the past when I make close to nothing in return and I can’t justify the amount of time I spend besides my demanding day job as a teacher marketing and promoting my books either.
I will keep writing because I love it, always have. And I’ll most likely continue to publish my books because hope never dies, I guess. But I wish I could be successful at one thing at least. Is that too much to ask?
How do you deal with failure and/or the hopeless feeling of defeat?
Note: This is me venting on a day I woke up feeling smaller than a bug and just as relevant. Most days I don’t feel like that. I have “moments” but for the most part my rational side knows things are not that gloomy. I have wonderful friends, a small group of amazing readers who are super supportive, great writer friends who help me however they can, and my family who despite their flaws love me as much as I love them. I am also so fortunate to have an amazing publisher and a day job that, however exhausting and frustrating, keeps me fed, housed and which I love most of the time (love my students for sure. Not so sure about the education bosses of this world.). So take this with a grain of salt. Or two 
September 16, 2022
First Born Sons – Blog Tour
Vincent Traughber Meis has a new LGBTQ+ contemporary literary book out (gay, trans FTM, bi, gender fluid): First Born Sons. And there’s a giveaway.
A group of coastal California residents battle wildfires, racism, and their own demons in five distinct narratives set in late 2019 and 2020.
The book is populated by a cast of diverse LGBTQ+ individuals who struggle to find love, comfort, and fulfillment. As the novel progresses, characters interact across the separate narratives and are brought together for a birthday and a disastrous Black Lives Matter demonstration.
A man returning to the horrors that made him leave Mississippi, a blind gay man flirting with love, an FTM transgender starting hormone therapy, a woman struggling to protect her sons from her husband’s surge to right-wing politics, and a teenager with two gay dads searching for his Black surrogate mom paint a disturbing tableau of modern-day America.
Universal Buy LinkGiveawayVincent is giving away a $20 Amazon gift card with this tour:
a Rafflecopter giveaway https://widget-prime.rafflecopter.com/launch.js
Direct Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d47255/?
Excerpt
1 Fire
August 2020
Each step took him closer to safety, one uncertain foot in front of the other, his biceps straining as he shifted the heavy load in his arms. On either side of the unpaved road he traversed, thick groves of redwoods towered above him and the forest air wrinkled with dust and heat and smoke, causing his useless eyes behind dark glasses to burn. But his legs knew the way, knew the number of steps to the nearest house. If the neighbors weren’t there, he would have to make it all the way to the main road and hope for a passing car to pick him up.
A gust of hot wind rushed through the trees, and he heard the snap of a branch, followed by a thump on the ground. He picked up his pace, his breathing growing heavier, sweat trickling down his sides. He shifted the load again and hugged the equipment to his chest, things he couldn’t leave behind, the tools of his trade, his work, his life.
A few minutes earlier he had been in a groove at the desk in front of the window, headphones on, crafting a set for an upcoming Zoom dance party called Apocalypse. Making a killer set was essential for people unable to go out, afraid of the virus, surrounded by wildfires, and bored with political discourse. They longed to dance, move their bodies, get their sexy on even if it was in a little Zoom window. With outlets of entertainment shut down, people spent excess income on pricey headphones and ear buds. He took that into account as his fingers danced over the knobs and levers, adjusting everything by sound and feel, pumping up the bass to shake their brains, rattle their hearts imprisoned in ribcages of discontent.
His goal was to make them feel something, and he hunted for songs allowing extreme panning, mixes that bounced the sounds back and forth from ear to ear, playing with space and width as the music traveled through their heads. Getting them on their feet and shaking their asses made him happy, gave him a reason to go on when the darkness around him pressed in.
The odor of burning, pungent and slightly sweet, had wafted in the open window, filled his nostrils, and snapped him out of the trance he fell into when manipulating pitch, timbre, texture, volume, and duration, pushing one up, another down. He removed the headphones and through the lingering pulsation in his ears heard the incessant chirp notifications from his phone. Five messages. They all told him the same thing. The fires were getting close. Get out. He unplugged his headphones and the controller from his laptop, gathered everything in his arms, felt his way to the door, and negotiated the steps to the ground.
A car approached, still a couple of hundred yards away, and his panic subsided. As it was the last house on the road, someone had to be coming for him. He breathed easier, and the playlist returned to his head, the order and choice of songs. The gravel crunched under his feet to the beat of the extended dance mix version he had found of the R.E.M. song, “It’s the End of the World as We Know It,” a trite but obvious choice for the set. The car got closer. He tilted his head. Though his ears recognized most of the cars that came down the road, this one was different, heavier.
The vehicle stopped. Two doors opened, and the sounds of unfriendly steps, the vibration of danger ground toward him. Two men, he guessed. His spine tingled with the all-overs as Granny used to say.
“Stop right there!” a man shouted. “Put your shit on the ground and raise your hands.”
The command brought a brutal end to the tunes in Lamar’s head like a needle scratching across a record. “What? Who are you?” Lamar continued his trudge forward.
The two cops turned to each other with confused expressions. The older officer with a thick mustache that hid his upper lip on a round face and a rookie who looked as if he spent way too much time admiring his blond good looks in front of the mirror at the gym unsnapped their holsters and put their hands on their guns. The senior cop growled, “I said stop. On your knees.”
Lamar’s spirit tumbled into a muddy hole of fear. It had been four years since he had nearly lost his life, attacked by men with guns and robbed of his laptop with all his stored music. This time his files were backed up, but he wasn’t about to lose the couple of thousand dollars’ worth of equipment in his arms without a fight.
“I don’t know who you are.” A murder of crows cawed a bitter song high in the trees above them. They could see what he couldn’t, looking down on the classic scenario of a Black man facing the police with their guns drawn, barking orders that made no sense.
“Stop where you are. Are you deaf?”
The birds cawed panic and flew away.
“No, but he’s blind,” said a voice from behind the officers. The younger one swirled around and pointed his gun at a man walking up the road. Byron’s long hair blew wild in the wind and his beard was thick from not shaving since the beginning of the shutdown. He liked to joke that he now looked like the Unabomber. When Lamar hadn’t responded to his call, he had rushed out of the house in a dirty T-shirt and sweats and jumped in his car, a disheveled cavalry to the rescue.
Author BioVincent Traughber Meis grew up in Decatur, Illinois where he got his start writing plays for his younger sisters to act in for a neighborhood audience. He graduated from Tulane University in New Orleans and worked for many years as an English as a Second Language (ESL) teacher in the San Francisco Bay Area, Spain, Saudi Arabia and Mexico, publishing many academic articles in his field.
As result of his extensive travels and time abroad he published a number of pieces, mostly travel articles, but also a few poems and book reviews, in publications such as, The Advocate, LA Weekly, In Style, and Our World in the 1980’s and 90’s. He finally arrived at his true writing love: novels and short stories.
Five of his six published novels are set at least partially in foreign countries and his book of short stories focuses on countries around the world. Several of his novels have won Rainbow Awards, and his most recent novel, The Mayor of Oak Street was awarded a Reader Views Silver Award. He has published short stories in a number of collections and has achieved Finalist status in a few short fiction contests.
When he’s not writing, he works in the garden and travels with his husband. He lives in San Leandro, California.
Author Website: https://www.vincentmeis.com
Author Facebook (Personal): https://www.facebook.com/vincent.meis
Author Facebook (Author Page): https://www.facebook.com/vincenttraughbermeis/
Author Twitter: https://www.twitter.com/convince415
Author Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/vincentmeisauthor
Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5755735.Vincent_Meis
Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/~/e/B00J7YZQU4
August 27, 2022
Court Lady – A Review
If you follow me here or on any of the other social media sites, you know I’m a huge fan of Chinese dramas, especially the historic and fantasy ones. The right word is probably more like obsessed, lol.
I just finished watching the series, Court Lady, and I felt I need to share my opinion about it. This was one of the best, most satisfying dramas I have watched in a long time for various reasons.
First let me tell you a little about the C-drama (historical and fantasy) usual structure/plot. It normally starts on a lighter note, often depicting a innocent side to the main characters and it develops into the destruction of that innocence one way or another. Things progressively become more serious and the writers often throw many obstacles into the MCs’ path. Towards the end of the series, things normally get really hairy with the death of many of the cast of characters (I guess Game of Thrones style), sometimes all of the supporting cast and even one of the MCs. One of the big fails of many C-dramas in my humble opinion is unsatisfying endings. Often, the last episode leaves a bitter taste in the viewer’s mouth.
This is where Court Lady differs from all the others. I have to first congratulate a great cast–from the MCs and all the “good guys” to the villains which were so not black and white evil. There were many nuances to each character which gave them depth and had me hating them one minute and pitying them the next. The two main characters are a couple of my favorite Chinese actors. Smart cookie Fu Rou is played beautifully by Li Yi Tong and Chu Mu (swoon) is played by Xu Kai. But the side characters were sometimes even more amazing. Chu Ling (Chu Mu’s middle brother) and his love interest, Princess Xin Nan were a favorite of mine because they broke every rule, every tradition you can think of. Their funny and yet, heartwarming relationship was the best I have seen in a while. Kudos to the actors, Fan Shi Qi and Wu Ji Yi for portraying it to perfection.
Yes, there were still some hard to swallow deaths on the way to the conclusion of this wonderful story and at times it was a little preachy, but all in all it was a great ride. And the ending, holy crap, it was the most satisfying one I have seen in Chinese drama or any other drama. No loose threads, no gloom and doom, all hearts and giggles.
Highly recommend it.
August 9, 2022
True Bliss
How do you define true bliss?
I guess it would depend on who you were asking. For a friend of mine who is a swimmer, bliss could be defined as a dip in the warm waters of the Mediterranean. For a foodie, it could be eating at the most famous restaurant in the land. For a nature lover it would possibly be a night in a forest, sleeping in a hammock/cocoon.
We all have different ideas about what bliss truly looks like and even then, those definitions change as we age and as our conditions change.
For me, as a writer, bliss is writing frequently AND enjoying it. Let me explain.
I just finished a novel that I started probably around October of last year. For some, that’s not a long time but for me, that feels like an eternity. The worst part is that because it dragged for so long I lost the passion, the excitement I normally feel when I sit at my laptop to write. It became a chore.
Don’t get me wrong, it’s a great story and I love it. I adore the characters and I believe I have a solid plot line (that turned into a possible series) with all the excitement that makes danmei such a beloved genre mixed with the romance and world building that will appeal to fantasy lovers.
But every time I sat down to write it, I was paralyzed. By what, I’m not sure. Fear I was writing crap? Possibly. Self-doubt about my writing skills? Almost certainly. Pandemic and family stress side effect? Absolutely.
The good news is, I have finished it and it turned out–despite all my worst fears–amazing (I did have to tweak it a bit to get rid of some odd inconsistencies). I’m very proud of it and excited to share it with the world sometime in the near future.
Even better news is that I am now writing a story (that was not even a seed in my brain) which is flowing easily and beautifully. It has brought my bliss back. This one was inspired by a cover I bought on a whim from an artist I love, Adriatica. And so far it’s been a pleasure to write. The characters are developing smoothly, the world-building is making me smile (a lot), and the plot is very promising (even though as a pantser I have a pretty fuzzy concept of what it might be, lol).
So, moral of the story is, don’t despair. Like my yoga teacher often says, everything passes, nothing is permanent. So if you are, like I was, going through a stage where whatever makes you happy is no longer doing it for you, stick with it. It will eventually come back. And if it doesn’t, there are a million other things to discover. One (or many) will surely bring back your bliss.
What makes you happy? Would love to hear from you.
August 1, 2022
So This Is Ever After – Book Review
So This Is Ever After by F.T. Lukens
My rating: 5 of 5 stars
Not sure how to start. Okay, I do.
This book was right up my alley; a mixture of different genres, a rom com set in a medieval-type society with magic and a lot of heart. I loved it!
It had all the things I liked. Let’s see: magic, friends to lovers trope, love conquers all, reluctant hero and his wonderful Scooby gang, lots of humor and sarcasm, diversity, fated mates trope, a bit of a fairytale flavor, and even a giant octopus. What’s not to love?
All kidding aside, the friendships in this story plus the swoony, sweet love between the two main characters are heartwarming and just what the doctor ordered for my romantic soul. Wrap it all up in a slightly demented plot and you have a winner.
I highly recommend this book to all lovers of romance, magic, or really anyone who just wants a break from reality.
July 19, 2022
Sorcery of Thorns – Review
Sorcery of Thorns by Margaret Rogerson
My rating: 5 of 5 stars
I started reading this book because it came highly recommended by several readers and writers on TikTok and Instagram. I’m always suspicious of hype but since this one was a standalone I figure I had nothing to lose.
And dang, am I glad I read it.
Even though this a YA fantasy set in a historical-looking era it has a definite MG ring to it, not sure why (it might just be me). But it works.
The character arcs are wonderful and so well done, especially that of Silas, the demon. The budding romance between Nathaniel and Elisabeth is well done and very sweet. The world created by the author is believable and rather original. And the fact that the whole story revolves around libraries filled with books (grimoires) with a life of their own is just the cherry on top.
Highly recommend it to anyone (YA or adult) who loves a good fantasy adventure.
June 6, 2022
Castles in Their Bones – Review
Castles in Their Bones by Laura Sebastian
My rating: 5 of 5 stars
I’m so glad I picked up this book from the shelves. This was a definite cover choice, but it proved to be so much more than just a gorgeous cover. I was not sure I was going to like this three (sometimes four) voices story since the main characters (the triplets) were not exactly great people. They were after all their mother’s greatest weapons.
But these three girls develop into so much more complex human beings, they grow before our eyes and change.
My favorite part of their character arc? The fact that love is what changes them. Not just romantic love but love for their fellow humans, the love for a friend, the love of family.
Awesome job, Ms. Sebastian. Can’t wait to read the second book in the series.
June 5, 2022
New Release – Bed of Rose and Thorns
Sir Ezra is an Elysian Bell; he has a frightening potential that he keeps hidden deep beneath tight layers of steel armor. He secretly loves a dark Queen whose touch would mean his death.
Banished for brutally slaughtering the Prince of Erle and husband to the Queen, Sir Ezra can only dream of seeing her again. Every night, his soul travels to distant lands, remembering the Queen, her deep convictions, brilliant mind, unending work, hidden loneliness, and a single night of horrific bloodshed.
Recalled to the Queendom after eleven years, Ezra hopes to catch at least a fleeting glimpse of the woman he was sacrificed for. Instead, he finds a nation in rebellion and the Queen to be an elusive phantom. His only friend, Sir Marigold, challenges his presence and tells him that he is not needed in the capitol. Looking for both the truth and the absent Queen, Ezra finds only more secrets and enemies.
Ezra’s armor is dented, scarred, and ruined by friend and enemy alike; his secret potential is about to become unbound.
Amazon | Universal Buy LinkGiveawayLee is giving away a $20 Amazon gift card with this tour:
a Rafflecopter giveaway https://widget-prime.rafflecopter.com/launch.js
Direct Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d47240/?
Excerpt
A man alone, thirsty, falls asleep.
***
“Where am I?” asks the man. He seems to be bobbing high in clear aquamarine water. All he can see is a vast expanse of ocean and a clear crystalline structure that floats nearby. Something seems familiar. He had been in a desert, travelling with friends, but now he swims upon an endless ocean.
“Have I been here before?” he asks. The tug of oceanic currents and the endless blue horizon pull on some memory . . . something important.
“You are in the sea of Eydos,” says the crystalline structure. It has been floating toward him, quietly, its approach, until then, unnoticed.
“And you are an iceberg,” the man says, smiling, unconcerned, unsurprised by the nearness of the mountainous structure. He does not know what Eydos is, but he thinks he may recognize this vast icy creature. Something tells him that he may have seen her before, though his memory is as difficult to make out as a words written on water.
The iceberg shakes from side to side, creating little ripples and dancing waves. “I suppose that I am.”
“Your sides are so smooth,” says the man. “I like you.”
The iceberg shakes again and glides right up beside the man. He floats high enough in the water that her ripples of laughter do not threaten to drown him. “You are brave, aren’t you?”
“I am not afraid to look upon that which I like. And say so.”
“Look down then, man, and tell me what you see.”
The man dives down a few body lengths, searching. When he resurfaces, he is smiling even more widely than before. “You go down and down, out of sight, beyond light and reckoning.” He shakes his head at her. “Most of you is down below, unknowable. How vast are you?”
“Never ask a lady her size,” the iceberg says, creating even bigger waves as she shakes the waters, laughing. “My size is my depth, and my depth is my size.”
“Well, I like it. I am just a man. Not vast or mysterious like an iceberg.”
“An amusing man, I think,” replies the berg.
The man asks, “Where are you going?”
“On currents that are my own, on purposes that are my own, for reasons that are my own.”
“I don’t know what I am doing here or where I am going,” says the man.
“Typical,” replies the iceberg lightly. “Most do not.”
The man, swimming hard beside her, says, “You are certainly moving fast through this ocean.”
“Indeed,” says the iceberg. “I am an agent of my own destiny.” After a moment, she adds, “If you come around back and swim in my eddy, you will be pulled along. You can rest while we talk.”
The man looks at the smooth surface of the iceberg. “Can I not just slide up onto you and rest there?”
“No!” says the iceberg, firm. “I am hard and cold. I would burn you. If you touch me, you will be undone.” Her voice softens as she adds, “It is nice in my eddy. Swim there, man.”
He shrugs and does as she says.
“Oh, this is nice,” says the man. “I can look at you and talk at the same time.”
“Glad to help you do two things at once,” giggles the iceberg, making tears of water jiggle and parade.
And they talk on through the day, the man endlessly curious about the magnificent creature of the waters.
***
“I love you, iceberg,” declares the man.
“That’s nice, but you don’t even know a tenth of me.”
“Good point,” laughs the man. “I need to dive deeper.” He takes a deep breath and dives into the dark again.
Missing completely the iceberg’s cry of “No!”
The water starts at a clear color, or is it green? Then it turns light blue, and then to deeper and darker shades. The man pushes and kicks, fighting his buoyancy, feeling the weight of water build and build, following the clean lines of ice down into oblivion.
Heavy, crushing pressure begins to squeeze him. It is like the weight of memory, everywhere pushing, everywhere trying to change and deform him from his human shape, trying to make his courage fail and shatter his hope. But he loves the iceberg and he needs to follow her down.
At the utmost point of indigo darkness, he finds a new light. It shines from a clear chamber in the ice where a figure waits. Lungs bursting, he pushes deeper, drawing level to the translucent walls and the woman who lies inside.
She is naked but for her long, tawny hair. Like a lion’s mane, it frames her long, pure face and spills over her delicate, perfect shoulders. She looks at peace. Her eyes are closed, but she is smiling.
This is the heart of the iceberg, the man thinks, in the crushing pressure of the deep. So beautiful.
Then he sees that she rests upon a bed of long, sharp thorns.
Author Bio
Born with only one working lung and having had the last rights read to him and dying of an influenza related viral pneumonia, 25-year-old geophysicist Lee Hunt experienced several near-death dreams. The power of communication and the need to both understand and be understood was at the heart of each. He had already found that nothing was more important than being able to cross the distance between people.
Lee’s interests are eclectic. He is an Ironman Triathlete, hiker, traveler, and an enthusiastic sport rock climber. Lee also continues to work as a geophysicist on Carbon Capture and Sequestration projects, and is a writer for BIG-Media.ca.
The dream of understanding and being understood has never left his mind, and Lee continues that in his works of fiction through metaphor. His works include The Dynamicist Trilogy, Last Worst Hopes and Bed of Rose and Thorns.
Author Liminal Fiction (LimFic.com)
