Grace A. Johnson's Blog: Of Blades & Thorns, page 35

Cover Reveal: To Treasure an Heiress by Roseanna M. White

Well, hello there, lovely person. I see you've been drawn in by that interesting title up there. Or perhaps 'twas this beautiful photo to my right there which has so thoroughly captured your attention.

Whatever the case, you've come to the right place to (1) admire that gorgeous cover I mentioned and (2) learn more about Roseanna M. White's upcoming release!

About the Book

1906

Beth Tremayne has always been drawn to adventure. During her childhood, she fed that desire by exploring every inch of the Isles of Scilly. As an adolescent, she dreamed of love in London’s ballrooms. Now, stumbling across an old map on her family’s property, she’s found more adventure than she ever dreamed in the hunt for pirate treasure. Unfortunately, Beth can’t escape the attentions of her family’s guest, Lord Sheridan.

Sheridan has spent years pursuing whatever archaeological interest caught his imagination. And when he discovers that Beth’s search connects with one of his favorite pirates of history, he can’t help getting involved. Plus, he finds her irresistible, even though she insists he stole a prized possession of hers.

As they work together following different clues and drawing closer to danger, they start to piece together a story of tragic love and piratical adventure. But the true surprise is the treasure they discover in one another.

Seriously you guys, I started shipping Beth and Sheridan from the first moment I met the two of them in The Nature of a Lady, so you can imagine I'm pretty excited about this romance!!!

Anyway, this is where I'm going to direct you to the previous book, which you can read my review of here, The Nature of a Lady. If you're interested in snagging yourself a copy of the first book in the Secret of the Isles series, click here!

Now it's time to add the January 2022 release, To Treasure an Heiress to your Goodreads shelf here! Or, better yet, preorder your copy today!

About the Author

Roseanna M. White is a bestselling, Christy Award nominated author who has long claimed that words are the air she breathes. When not writing fiction, she’s homeschooling her two kids, editing, designing book covers, and pretending her house will clean itself. Roseanna is the author of a slew of historical novels that span several continents and thousands of years. Spies and war and mayhem always seem to find their way into her books…to offset her real life, which is blessedly ordinary. You can learn more about her and her stories at www.RoseannaMWhite.com.

#coverreveal #secretoftheisles #historicalromance #roseannamwhite

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A Message to America

Today is Independence Day, and although technically the Declaration of Independence wasn't signed on this day, we still celebrate the Fourth of July as the day the Second Continental Congress adopted the Declaration, making a statement to the colonies, Britain, and the whole world that we would be an independent nation under the jurisdiction of God Most High.

Now, we've had our struggles. America may have been founded on godly principles when it was named the United States, but we haven't always followed them. Especially not recently.

God laid this message on my heart a couple months back, but I haven't ever been motivated to share it just yet. I wrote it down on June 14th, but I've saved in it my journal until today...because I knew July 4th was the day it needed to be heard (or read, technically).

The night before (June 13th), I was reading in Hebrews 12, verses 26-29, where Paul says,

“‘Yet once more I will shake not only the earth but also the heavens.’ This phrase, ‘Yet once more,’ indicates the removal of things that are shaken—that is, things that have been made—in order that the things that cannot be shaken may remain. Therefore, let us be grateful for receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken.”

After I wrote that Scripture down, God took over my pen and this is what He told me:

Behold, a great shaking is coming, declares the Lord. A trembling has begun, once which shall uproot the evil and restore the balance and order I have erected. Hold on, says the Lord, for I am coming with heavy footfalls and thunderous hoof-beats. No more will the evil one abide in your homes, your states, and your country. A new kingdom shall arise—one that is everlasting, one that is righteous, one that I establish. And once again I shall be known as the God of America.

That was what I'd been hearing for months: the God of America.

America, God wants you to know that He's coming back. He's coming back to our government, to our schools, to our churches, to our homes, to our families, to our hearts. He's coming back to His position as Lord of this nation, and He is going to turn this country into a beacon of His glory for all the world to see.

There's no stopping this shaking, America. When God's Spirit descends upon us, there will be no stopping the crumbling of ALL the enemy's strongholds. God is going to change America for the better, plucking out the sinful eyes and chopping off the unrighteous hand, trimming off the dead branches to make way for fruitful and holy institutions and officials, laws and practices, and citizens.

God will not loosen His grip upon the nation He established for the good of the world and the furtherance of His Kingdom. We are His again, one beneath His blood, in Jesus' mighty name.

NO

I thought I was depressed.

I would sit on the bathroom floor with my head in my hands and cry. Because I thought I was a disappointment. Because I couldn't handle the stress. Because I thought I was better off having never been born at all.

I wouldn't have killed myself, but sometimes I wished someone else would go ahead and do it for me.

This was the stage in my life where at thirteen, my mottoes were "we're all a little bit depressed" and "depression is just the thorn in my side."

But I'm not in that place anymore. Sure, you can still find me on the bathroom floor crying from time to time, but instead of being consumed by dark thoughts, I'll pray.

I've learned something from all this...and it's that NO ONE is made to be depressed. God's purpose for our lives is not that we should live in darkness but that we should live in the light that is His Son Jesus Christ.

I know a lot of you struggle with anxiety and depression. I know you wake up in the middle of the night crying. I know you spend days in a dark daze. I know you've gone to counseling, talked to your parents and pastors, and cried out to God...but still nothing changes.

There IS a way out.

Every morning, every night, every time you feel the oppression coming, TELL THE DEVIL NO.

Devil, you are not welcome in my mind any longer. You have no place among my thoughts. You have no hold on me or my friends and family. For IT IS WRITTEN that if I submit to God and His design for me to live in peace and resist you by the power of the Holy Spirit, you WILL flee.

So begone, Satan. Get thee behind me.

Fear, you have no power here, because I have been given a sprit of POWER and LOVE, and do you know what? THE PERFECT LOVE OF MY SAVIOR CASTS OUT ALL FEAR.

So get out of my mind, get out of my heart. I'm not feeding you any more of my life. I'm walking in love and freedom now.

Anxiety, God told me not to worry. He told me that He is my provider, He is my rock, and He is my defender.

So it doesn't sound like there is any place for you anymore. I AM TRUSTING IN GOD.

Suicide, I want you to know that my life in infinitely precious to God Most High. He created me PERFECTLY. He knew me and loved me before I was even born. He has a purpose and a destiny for me - and that's NOT to die. You, devil, have NO power over life and death. Only my God appoints and controls that time, and I'm not giving into your lies.

So stay away from my spirit. I know you're after it - and my heart, my soul, my body and mind - because I am full of something you don't want in the world, something that messes up all your plans for destruction: Jesus.

Jesus Christ gave me power over ALL the power of the enemy. And that means I have power over DEPRESSION, FEAR, ANXIETY, and SUICIDAL THOUGHTS.

That means I have the power to tell you NO, I'm not wasting my life in darkness. NO, I'm not giving in.

NO, I AM NOT DEPRESSED, IN THE NAME OF JESUS!

There is power in the tongue, my friends. A power greater than a two-edged sword. A power God gave us. And it's time to use that power to BREAK EVERY CHAIN. So say these words aloud, for yourself, your family, your friends. Tell the devil NO.

You weren't meant to be depressed. You weren't made to live your God-given life in darkness. Choose LIGHT. Choose LIFE. And tell the devil NO.

I love you. You were on my heart the moment I woke up this morning, and that's why I'm writing this. I have prayed for you and cried for you that you would be delivered, because I know you can.

This is my prayer for you.

Review: Ignite by Jenna Terese

Where to begin? There is honestly nothing more difficult than writing the opening sentence to a review—especially of a book that deserves the very best opening conceivable. No doubt there are and will be better phrased reviews of this novel, more beautiful adjectives used, clearer thoughts expressed.

But that’s not why I’m here. My purpose is to gush exceedingly about Ignite and make absolutely no sense while doing so.

So here we go.

First off, I just want to say that Jenna is actually a friend of mine, and of course I’d expected she’d be a good writer from her blog posts and such...but I hadn’t read a single fictional word of hers until Ignite. So maybe I’m biased? I don’t know. All I know is that despite all of this, I was wholly unprepared for how well-written Ignite is.

Not to mention this is literally the first sci-fi book I think I’ve ever read...so I’m really not an expert on the genre. I mean, there were serious Marvel vibes (and I kinda detected some The Incredibles vibes too…), and I’d know all about that, but as for actually writing a sci-fi superhero novel, I’m clueless. Maybe there were some technical things that didn’t line up or some things that should have been done differently—I don’t know.

All I know is that this is the best sci-fi book I’ve read. But that’s not saying much, is it?

Technically speaking, Jenna is a consummate writer. Her prose is very good—her voice and Scarlett’s voice came through strong; she perfectly balanced action and description with thought and emotion; there was clarity in her writing without it being blunt. To be honest, her writing reminded me a lot of Kara Swanson’s, so there’s that.

Her pacing was amazing too. In a way, some parts seemed rushed and others seemed to drag, but woven together, everything read so smoothly. I think she slowed down on things that deserved more “screen time,” so to speak, and sped up on things that were meant to move more quickly. I never felt like something was missing or milked, you know?

And the plot? Well, maybe it was clichéd—I don’t know. Labs and evil scientists and superpowers are used so often in fantasy, speculative, and sci-fi fiction, so in some ways, Jenna was using tried-and-true tropes. But I never felt like I was reading “just another superhero book” or that “same old story,” and not because I’ve read tons in the genre or anything (trust me, I can detect a cliché in a genre I’ve never read from a mile away)...it was because of the characters.

Every single one of them felt so real. So different and unique and vibrant and full of life. From Scarlett, our heroine, to Ares (#aresfanclub), to Nadia and Seth, to Dr. Bailey, to Rez and Ivan and the rest of the gang. I actually liked Scarlett and her point-of-view—the way she grew, the way her mindset changed. It was bound to happen, yeah, but going on that journey with her was an experience.

Ares and Nadia and Seth, though? Boy howdy, were they great characters or what? Most of the time, your side characters are clichéd and under-developed and kinda boring—but not these guys! Jenna did SUCH a fantastic job bringing them to life and portraying their emotions and internal struggles! I really wish I’d had their POVs! (Especially Ares… #aresfanclub #iwillusethishashtagasmanytimesasittakestogetmypointacrossthataresisabsolutelyadorableandishiphimandscarlettsobadrightnowandjustughilovehim)

As for Dr. Bailey? He was such a good antagonist! I literally kept going back and forth on whether he was secretly good or totally evil and then BOOM! PLOT TWIST! Seriously, once Jenna threw in that epic twist (that I will definitely not spoil), Dr. Bailey’s character just developed a hundred new layers, you know?

And REZ. OH MY GOSH MY BABY I LOVE THIS MAN TO BITS AND PIECES AND WHY?????? Okay, I will spare you the spoilers, but guys. I mean, we all knew Rez was “the guy,” right? So of course I couldn’t wait to meet him and I loved him from first sight and ugh. There is SO MUCH I want to say but I CAN’T. WHYYYYYYYY???????

*sobs*

*wails*

*sniffles*

*clears throat*

Anyway.

As much as I adored the characters and was so captivated by the story itself, my absolute favorite part was (you guessed it) the theme. Like, had this been any other book or any other author, I think I would’ve struggled with the whole acceptance and true self vibes, but Jenna just wove so much spiritual truth into the story that I couldn’t help but applaud her. So, yeah, I guess you could take it one way, but I saw a story that highlighted the sanctity of life and our God-given right as humans—all of us, no matter your race or age—to live and fulfill His purpose for our lives.

Not to mention, you know, the fact that mah man kept quoting Scripture and, you know, talking about God and stuff. Like, my heart. I know how strong of a Christian Jenna is, but I hadn’t expected to see the Bible and God so present in this story. And, I mean, it wasn’t preachy at all. It was so subtle, but it really opened it up for the next book to kinda explore God more and His love for all His creations more and, yeah, I just loved that.

I mean, there coulda been some romance, but I’m not gonna get pushy on y’all. This was just a perfect YA story that really kept its focus on what needed to be said, you know? Family, love, sacrifice, human rights—stuff like that. Stuff that inspires and encourages—not stuff that beats you down or depresses you or makes you feel dirty, like most YA (well, all fiction) does these days.

Just everything about Ignite was perfect. How strong but unassuming Scarlett was. How developed and inspiring her journey was. How beautiful the story of a God who loves us all was. How action-packed and well-paced this story was. How unexpected the plot twists were. How awesome my babies Rez and Ares were… #iamgoingtostartarezfanclubnow

Anyway, I’ll end the gushing now, before y’all get bored. Bottom line? Read the book, people. You won’t regret it, okay? And I’m not just sayin’ that ‘cause I’m, like, in love with all the characters and the cover or anything. I’m sayin’ that ‘cause it’s basically gospel truth right now, you hear me? So, yeah. Show some love to another amazing, Holy Spirit-filled young indie author and get your copy of Ignite now!

Disclaimer: A complimentary copy of this book was provided by the publisher, publicist, or author, including NetGalley. All opinions expressed are my own.

Snag Your Copy

Watch the Trailer

About the Author

Jenna Terese believes stories are powerful. That’s why she’s dedicated to creating fiction that will impact the world. You can find this INFP dreaming about the future, fangirling over her favorite books, geeking out about Marvel, playing piano, or sipping a chai tea latte as she writes sci-fi novels.

Check out Jenna's website ,here, and/or follow her on ,Amazon, ,Goodreads, ,Instagram, ,Pinterest, and ,BlogLovin'!

#jennaterese #jennatereseauthor #ignite #igniteduology #yasuperherobook #superherobooks

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Author Interview: Jenna Terese

Y'all remember Jenna Terese, don't you? I've been gushing about her for a month now. Probably because (1) she's an awesome person, (2) she's a marvelous author, and (3) she wrote a spectacular book!

Speaking of book, I'm super excited (did it again) to share my review of Jenna's debut novel Ignite later today...but first, I want to introduce y'all to the author! But seriously, though, if you're already interested in reading Ignite (or this interview made you interested), then click the buttons below to snag either a paperback or an eBook copy!!

Now, without further ado, let's get to know Jenna!

GJ: What first inspired you to write?

JT: I’ve loved stories for as long as I can remember. I loved how stories could pull you in and transport you. One day I just wondered if I could do that too (I was seven, by the way). And that’s how this wild and wonderful journey began.

GJ: What are the driving forces behind your writing now?

JT: I’m passionate about how art impacts people and the world on a deep level, and I believe that God’s given me that passion to use in storytelling.

GJ: Can you name any authors who have inspired your voice in different ways? How can you see their influence in your writing?

JT: Many authors have inspired and encouraged me. Especially the ones that showed me what God-honoring speculative fiction can look like. Wonderful authors like Nadine Brandes, Lindsay A. Franklin, Chuck Black, Morgan. L. Busse, and so many more.

GJ: What are some of your most favorite books/genres—to read and to write?

JT: To write: science-fiction. Which is kinda funny considering I only used to read historical fiction for most of my life. To read: sci-fi and fantasy. I like speculative fiction, as you can tell. As for my favorite books, I love the ones from the authors I mentioned above. ;)

GJ: What do you do when you aren’t writing?

JT:I enjoy reading (of course), playing piano, trying to learn guitar and ukulele, fitness, and researching random things that aren’t necessarily useful. XD

GJ: Your debut novel, Ignite, is releasing soon! (Which I am SO excited about!) Can you tell me a little bit about it and the inspiration behind it?

JT: Of course! I’m excited about it too. ;) It’s hard to remember what exactly inspired this story, but I believe it came together from a movie trailer and another superhero book I tried to write years ago that didn’t go anywhere. I was intrigued by the idea of superhumans being common in our world, but not thought of as superheroes. That’s where Ignite came from.

GJ: What did your writing process for Ignite look like? Did you pants it? plot it? How long did it take for you to write it?

JT: I’m definitely a plotter. I outlined the plot and scenes and character development before writing it for NaNoWriMo 2019 (wow, so long ago!). I didn’t complete it that November, so once I wrapped up the first draft the following January, it’s been editing, editing, editing. Beta readers and editors have done so much to whip this story into shape.

GJ: What is your most favorite character in Ignite, and what endears them to you?

JT: It might be predictable, but the main character is my favorite. Being an introverted musician myself, I relate to Scarlett and also the personal journey she goes through in the story. All my characters (yes, even the villains) are precious to me because I know them inside and out.

GJ: What do you want readers to take away from this story?

JT: That society doesn’t dictate whether their gifts/parts of themselves are worth showing to the world. God created all of you, and your gifts are valuable.

GJ: What did the publishing process look like for you?

JT: A TON of researching! I could go on and on, but I did a lot of research about indie publishing (which is like running a business), resources like editors, cover designers, interior formatting, marketing, ads, etc. Most of this process has been researching.

GJ: What are your thoughts for other aspiring writers on writing and publishing?

JT: Always remember your WHY. Why do you do this? Why do you love it? Why do you want to give your stories to the world? Remembering that deep why will get you through the hard seasons.

GJ: Have you ever endured any discouragement being a young author? If so, what inspired you to persevere?

JT: Sometimes there is a negative response towards young authors because they assume that means their work is low quality. Yes, young writers have less life experience, but I’ve read plenty of stories by young writers that were better than some published adult authors. Yes, young writers have a lot to learn, but if you feel called to publish young, go for it. Don’t let other people affect what God has called you to do.

GJ: What are your greatest aspirations for your future, be it as a person or as a writer?

JT: I definitely want to see my indie author business grow and expand. I want to learn more about this industry, and I’m excited about what stories God will give me to write in the future and how my relationship with Him will grow.

GJ: What has being a writer taught you?

JT: Things like how to manage time, create goals, and hone my craft. But also deeper things like how to push through hard seasons, truly giving my work to the Lord, and how important art is to the world.

About the Author

Jenna Terese believes stories are powerful. That’s why she’s dedicated to creating fiction that will impact the world. You can find this INFP dreaming about the future, fangirling over her favorite books, geeking out about Marvel, playing piano, or sipping a chai tea latte as she writes sci-fi novels.

Check out Jenna's website ,here, and/or follow her on ,Amazon, ,Goodreads, ,Instagram, ,Pinterest, and ,BlogLovin'!

#jennaterese #jennatereseauthor

The Island (Reign: Part 12)

Reign

Part 12: The Island

Seira

Charis was good, I’d give her that. I had expected one of the Naiads to catch up with us long before we left the City, had expected Seira to be right behind me…and perhaps they had. Perhaps one was following undetected by both the Guardian and I. Perhaps everyone knew what I was about and expected me to get myself killed. Only my sisters would be vexed over such a thought, but there was nothing they could do. We were all slowly wasting away anyway, just waiting to die.

But Parvi gave me—gave us—a chance at life. The queen gave us a chance at life. And that was what was important. I didn’t know the hows or the whys or what would happen next—all I knew was that this was a chance worth taking, and I had best take advantage of the time Charis had granted me.

I did toss one more glance over my shoulder at the City, seemingly empty and lifeless, just in case, before diving back into the water.

The purity of the ocean was refreshing, each wave of water tasting of salt and life. Of home. This water was clear and blue and cool and alight with the sun’s rays and the reflect of it upon the scales of fish below the surface.

So many fish…I flicked my tail at a school of them, watching bubbles ripple around their little bodies. Oh, to be like the fish, without emotions or thoughts, led only by instinct. Living with total abandon in a place that no man dared go.

Oh, to be a fish instead of a Siren. To be a woman instead of a monster. To be dead instead of dying.

I sighed, letting out a gust of air and gulping in water that wasn’t stagnant or stale. It flowed within my body, through my gills, filling me with an energy I hadn’t possessed in many, many years.

Along with the realization that I was really and truly free, if only for a time.

I twirled in the water, curving around myself and turning flips, spiraling deeper and deeper until bright flashes of orange and pink and purple sparked before me. Coral. With a heave of my tail, I plunged to the reef, reaching out with scaly fingers to graze the beautiful, vibrant life that covered the ocean’s floor and ridges and surrounded its caves. Some plants were soft to the touch, others hard. Some holey, others smooth. Some spiky, others—my hand collided with something sleek and warm.

Others fish instead of coral.

A striped one in orange and black with lines of white wiggled closer to me, swimming up my arm and tangling itself in my hair. A laugh bubbled out as its fins tickled the back of my neck and I fell back.

No more bricks, no more ruins, no more dark nights. Only life. Bright, blinding, glorious life!

I explored the reef a while longer, caressing each piece of coral and each weed and waving at every creature—fish, shark, eel, ray…what looked eerily like an adolescent leviathan. (Did they even exist anymore? The flood couldn’t have wiped them out, and Queen Anactoria surely couldn’t have hunted them all down.)

I played like a human child in the rain, until a dark shadow floated just above the surface, just over my head, and began to rock.

Ambrosia.

I thrust forward and up, curving around the boat to keep it from tipping over. I only peeked the very top of my head up from the water and watching as Ambrosia leant over one side with her curious little fox, then scooted over to the other, peering into the ocean as if expecting a shark to jump out at her.

At the aft, gripping the oars in his strong, capable hands, her Guardian sat, face soft and free of lines, mouth almost—smiling?

That was unexpected.

His eyes followed the girl queen as she whipped the boat back and forth in her scouring of the sea, looking nothing like the severe child who had barked orders at me earlier and everything like a little lassie should—playful, happy, unfettered.

Then his gaze collided with mine. The smile faded. His brows tugged into a v. His eyes...well, they didn’t necessarily go hard, if what they’d looked like this morning was hard. Instead, his stare seemed to…intensify. The ring of umber around his pupil darkened to black, his lashes lowering over his cheeks.

He must not have known that such an expression only served to make him a thousand times more attractive. I felt like, had he known, he would’ve schooled his features back into the chiseled-from-granite look he’d worn earlier.

Well, since he was too busy looking gorgeous, I decided to take my turn watching Ambrosia. My eyes whirled around (no doubt Brehn found that disturbing) until my vision was a horizontal squint instead of a cat-like line. I was able to see Ambrosia whichever way she went without turning my head, compliments of a widened peripheral, while still casting an occasional glance at Brehn.

Before long, Ambrosia caught sight of my eyes and settled down, just staring at me as intently as her Guardian did. To be honest, I had no idea how they managed to look at me for so long, especially without showing any visible disgust. Maybe ‘twas because all I’d bared to them was my head. My face wasn’t too ugly, I supposed. Apart from the eyes. And the fangs. And my flared, flat nose and forked tongue and, well, you get the point.

I couldn’t help but stay. As strange as it was, it felt good to be watched. Noticed. Seen. More than that, studied as if I held all the world’s great mysteries within me.

At least, that was how Ambrosia was studying me. After a while, it began to look like Brehn wanted to eat me.

And here my appetite had begun to dissipate. He was handsome, no doubt about that, but far too broody and annoying. He’d probably be pretty tough and chewy anyway.

I shuddered.

No, really, I shuddered at the thought. There was actually something...no. Nay, there wasn’t. There was nothing. Nothing different or out of the ordinary. Nothing human about it.

I was a Siren. I ate humans. Sooner or later, I’d eat this human, whether he liked it or not. And that’d been the end of it. Ambrosia could just…

See, Seira? This is why you aren’t supposed to interact with humans. You get attached to them, and when it comes time for dinner, you end up ruining the life of someone you’ve begun to feel sympathy for. There’s just no way around that, no other way to sustain yourself, no way to refuse.

Unless there was. But if there were, wouldn’t someone have tried it before? Wouldn’t we have heard horror stories about what happened to the one Siren who said no and starved herself?

That was a thought best left alone. Very much alone, collecting dust on a rotting shelf in an empty castle.

After a long while, I looked away and saw as the suns dipped behind the shadow of Parvi, eclipsed by the horizon and the outline of a smaller island.

“I didn’t know there was another island in these waters.”

I glanced back at Brehn, followed his eyes to the island. I didn’t really have a decent reply for him, as so much had changed after the flood...and I hadn’t be allowed in open waters like this since then. So many years...all of them reduced to memories of captivity and hollowness.

“We should stay the night there,” Ambrosia piped up, the first words I’d heard from her since we’d left the City’s borders.

“We should.” Leaning forward, Brehn seized my gaze again and held it. “Seira, lead the way.”

Missed Part 11? Read it ,here!

#theriver #reign #serial #fantasy #theguardiansofmagni

Interview with Rina (Part One)

FINALLY! My interview (or, well, the first half of it) with the irritating - er, lovely Captain Rina Bennet is LIVE! Much thanks to Sophia, who supplied all the questions in today's interview, and to Abby, Issabelle, and Katherine, whose questions will be featured in another interview next month!

Rina and I, well, we're not as compatible as one would expect. So this interview ended up being a lot longer and more strenuous for me than I'd anticipated. Rina is, uh, not very cooperative, believe it or not. Anyway, I hope y'all enjoy getting to know her a little bit better! She's a hoot, that woman is.

GJ: You can sit down, you know.

RB: *eyes chair warily* Really? That spindly thing would likely crumble underneath my weight.

GJ: *rolls her eyes* You weigh one-hundred and eighty pounds, Rina. Not to mention you towering over me is intimidating.

RB: *grins* That would be the point, luv. Wait. How do you know my weight? *folds hands over her swelling stomach*

GJ: I made you. I know you.

RB: *slowly lowers into chair* *crosses legs* *squirms uncomfortably* Enough bilge, Grace. Let’s get down to business—why am I here?

GJ: Why else, Ree? You’re here for an interview.

RB: Ree? Where’d that come from?

GJ: So I gave your nickname a nickname. Get over it.

RB: *frowns* You’re much more disrespectful than I’d imagined. Did you mother raise you to speak to your elders in such a manner?

GJ: *quirks a brow* You’re stalling.

RB: Of course I’m stalling, luv. I’m scared right out o’ me wits, what with all these nosy questions and poking about in me personal life and all. You’d stall too if it were you.

GJ: Calm down, Ree. *reaches over and pats her hand* My friends are all kind, caring people who aren’t the least bit nosy at all. They genuinely want to get to know you.

RB: Which is equal to being nosy, aye?

GJ: *scoffs* *straightens glasses* *shuffles papers* Our first questions are from Sophia. She asks: Do you think you’d ever give up piracy? If so, why and what for?

RB: *mutters* Sounds rather nosy to me. *clears throat* I may as well answer the question, aye? Let’s see. What was it again?

GJ: *glares*

RB: Ah, yes. I remember now! Would I ever give up piracy? *sobers* *leans forward* Should I mention that I already have, in a roundabout way? Or is that a secret?

GJ: *continues glaring* Not anymore, it’s not.

RB: Oh, well then. Sophia dear, I would give up piracy, aye, but could I give up my life on the sea is the question. I’m blessed to be able to privateer and practically still pirate as if nothing had ever changed—only with the sanction of the government, of course. Although, come to think of it, that still constitutes as stealing, which begs the question: am I really doing the right thing? Spain considers me a pirate, after all, so I may as well still be one.

You know, I don’t rightly believe I’ve ever thought of it that way…

Anyway, my point is that I wouldn’t want to. I certainly don’t think anyone could ever force me to. But I know that as I age, or even just with raising the twins and this new wee one, I will need to settle down eventually. However, as I’m returning to my ship with the twins, I see not why I should be forced to retire to raise them on land—providing all goes well on this voyage, that is. Should it not…ach, what am I saying? Of course it will, and my children will have a good upbringing aboard my ship. Why, I was raised aboard a pirate ship and look at me! I turned out—

GJ: A bloodthirsty, villainous pirate.

RB: A pirate, exactly. A fine specimen of person. I— *frowns* You were being sarcastic, weren’t you?

GJ: Of course. Now, on to our next question. (Please keep in mind, Rina, that we don’t have all day. You can’t spend thirty minutes on each question, you know.)

RB: I know that quite well, thank you very much. I don’t even want to be here, you know.

GJ: Yeah, I know. Next question: What is your favorite thing about being a pirate? And your least favorite thing as well?

RB: *sucks in a breath* Deuces, that’s a hard one. My favorite thing? Oy, there are so many—the freedom, the wind rustling my sails, the salt-tinged air. The crash of the waves. The rush of exhilaration when a prize sails into view. Just…being, you know? Enjoying life itself. You’ve never really lived until you’ve experienced the sea, felt the breeze, breathed in the salty brine.

But my least favorite? *chuckles* Probably the piracy itself. The risk, really. Even as a privateer, there’s a risk. Of dying at any given moment. But then…that’s what makes it all worth it, you know? What puts life into perspective, knowing it could end at any given moment.

So really, I think my least favorite thing isn’t necessarily being at death’s front door everyday. More so, it’s going out the wrong way, you know? The diseases, the mutinies, the card games gone awry. Not to mention the lack of good food and water. The stench. *shudders*

GJ: *sniffs* Speaking of stench…Rina, when was the last time you bathed?

RB: That’s not one of the questions, is it? Aye, it’s been a few days. Don’t suppose I’ve washed my hair in a good week or two. But I cleaned up a couple days ago, you know. Washed my face and arms.

GJ: *mutters to herself* 17th century bathing habits. Ick. I knew I should’ve set my books in the era of modern showering. Gee, even the late 1800s would be better than this.

But on to the next question: What do you think your life would be like if you hadn’t become a pirate?

RB: You know, I actually asked myself that once. I…back in ‘83, when I was in London with Father, I had absolutely no idea what was I going to do with my life now that everything had changed so drastically and…I’m not sure. I suppose I just started thinking back to what I could’ve done after my uncle Maverick died to prevent me from becoming a pirate. I don’t think I’d known about the pardon yet, actually. Oh, I don’t know—so much was happening all at once. I was meeting my parents for the first time since I was a babe; I was feeling guilty about the life I’d led; Xavier was declaring his love for me.

Come to think of it, he really chose the worst possible time to do that. I don’t suppose I’ve ever thought of him as impatient—he’s most assuredly nothing as bad as Elliot—but he couldn’t seem to wait to let that particular cat out of the bag, if you know what I mean.

GJ: I do. And I also know that you still, five minutes later, have not answered the question.

RB: Oh. Yes. You’re right. Thank you, luv. Let’s see…if I hadn’t become a pirate…well, I guess that all depends upon whether or not Uncle Maverick ever abducted me. See, had he not, I would’ve lived with my parents, been raised a noblewoman, and likely would have wed fifteen years ago. Possibly even to Xavier.

But he did, so had I not taken over as captain of the Rina after he died, I suppose I…I mean, I could’ve been a barmaid. I couldn’t really see myself serving drinks to sailors, though. Maybe…maybe some sort of homeless vagrant. I don’t really have a coveted skill set that would’ve gotten me a position as anything other than a hired mercenary. Perhaps I would have wed…nay. No, I think had I not remained a pirate, I would have just wasted away. Drank myself to death or something. Piracy, as criminal as it is, gave me purpose. It gave me something to do, something to strive after.

‘Tis odd how greed can give you life and take it away all at the same time.

GJ: That’s actually pretty profound, Ree. Now this next question from Sophia shouldn’t take you so long to answer. How much rum do you consume in one day?

RB: *bursts into laughter* How much rum? *doubles over* *howls* Ooh, ooh. Ah. I apologize, but I, oh, I…that just… *clears throat* Back to the question, aye? I, uh, I don’t drink anymore—can’t because of the wee one, see? Not to mention, you know, abstinence and all. I’ve had an occasional glass of wine since I quit drinking, but not enough to get tipsy on, mind you. I do tend to get drunk pretty quickly, though.

As I was saying, back when I used to drink, the quantity average differed between my moods. When I was in one of my dark moods—which had been growing rarer and rarer until Elliot got married and she died and all—it was something close to maybe ten bottles? Oh, how do you measure liquids these days?

GJ: Ounces. *holds up a random glass Coke bottle that appeared out of nowhere* Is this about the right size, you reckon?

RB: Ah, yes. Something like that. About ten of those on bad days. Twelve if I were on my menses. Come to think of it, all that alcohol was probably what made me cramp so horribly to begin with. Hmm.

Oh, but on a good day, it was closer to seven. But not watered down, you know. I didn’t drink that bilge—just straight, strong rum. Or, you know, port or Madeira, if we ever got a hold of it. Good stuff, that Madeira is. Not as good as rum, but—

GJ: All right. Enough about the alcohol.

RB: Aye, you’re one of them teetotalers, aren’t you?

GJ: Why, yes, I am, and quite proud of it, thank you.

RB: Good on you. Next question?

GJ: *glances down at her paper* *snickers* You’ll like this one. Do pirates really say "arrrgh" all the time?

RB: *shakes her head* *sighs* Arrgh. Lord help me, if I hear that word again… I’ll be honest with everyone, shall I? The exclamation arrgh wasn’t invented until after I’d been dead at least two hundred years. Don’t ask me how I know that, since I’ll be dead then, but my point remains. Arrgh is like a Shakespearean word—created for the benefit of the creator and his purposes. Created to amuse and to portray a particular aura. You know, Shakespeare invented and modified a lot of the words in the English language. A portion of what you speak in your time comes from Shakespeare’s own imagination.

As for me in mine? Nay, we don’t say arrgh. In fact, pirates don’t even have a particular dialect. A great deal of pirates hail from Bristol or Wales, so you’ll hear a lot of their dialects when it comes to English pirates, but some speak with cockney accents—like Elliot does—or a more polished accent—like I do—or with any sort of regional dialect. For example, Keaton was born and raised in Cambridgeshire, so he speaks with a SOMETHING accent, which if you were to hear it, you America English speakers would have yourself quite the laugh. It’s such a rough, country accent. A bit like the British version of your southern accent, Grace.

GJ: *lifts one eyebrow* Are you sayin’ my accent is rough? I prefer to think of my regional dialect as a cultured intonation of speech, thank you very much. The “rough” accents belong to the hillbillies, which I, a South Georgian, am not.

*purses lips* Now, where were we? Ah, yes. Sophia wants to know what is the weirdest thing you’ve encountered during your life as a pirate? She also asks if you have any funny, weird, or scary stories we don’t know about that you’d like to share?

RB: *stares incredulously at Grace* Don’t you think you, my omniscient creator, are better suited to answer that question?

GJ: You, my glorious creation, are the one who experienced these events, so surely you can recount them better…

RB: *huffs* Fine. The weirdest thing… Oy, that right there be a tough one indeed. Hmm…there are so many! And I do believe it depends on your definition of weird. There was the time a trained monkey masqueraded as the captain of the Vengeful…I think we all got a chuckle out of that one. You see, the actual captain, one Henry Atwood, was bedridden with dysentery, I believe it was, and my! was he an eccentric. His ship was a model of Noah’s Ark, full of birds and pigs and goats and a host of exotic animals. One of which was a small monkey, bedecked in a tailored vest and tricorn and whatnot. When he came out and greeted me with a handshake…egad, I still can’t keep a straight face about it to this day.

They say female captains are strange, you know.

Oh, and there was this one time when I was in India. I love India, you know. The beautiful weather and the architecture and the food and the music and the clothing and…you get my point. This was—oh, this had to be when I was ten and six, mayhap, one of my first times at port in Calicut. Uncle had friends in high places, and we had been invited to dinner at the home of this deranged old politician—someone with the East India Company or what have you—who’d been out in the sun for far too long.

Anyway, the old man was convinced that I was his Indian bride, who’d died at least twenty—probably closer to thirty—years before, come back from the dead. Uncle was half amused and half terrified out of his wits that the man was going to take me as his wife. He knew he couldn’t sway him into believing I wasn’t his wife, so he and Elliot devised this plan. Let me tell you, it was gold. And I had no clue what he was up to, so whilst we were having dinner, I was plotting ways to slit his throat before he got his grubby little paws on me…then lo and behold, this ghostly high-pitched voice began humming and this ethereal figure came floating towards us out of nowhere.

The man took one look at the ghost and knew that was really his wife’s spirit.

But it, uh, it wasn’t. Far from it. He ended up chasing after a combination of worn sheets, an old dress, and Elliot—and in the meantime, Uncle Maverick and I doubled back to the ship. When he rounded the corner, he found Elliot standing there in his drawers, a pile of tattered fabric at his feet.

Still, to this day, I have no earthly idea how Elliot managed that girly voice or how my uncle convinced him to run around wearing a dress and a sheet over his head. I tried asking him, but would you believe that he denied it was even him.

*shrugs* I was grateful for their rescue, but I think more than that I was grateful to have something to waggle over El’s head.

And then there was the time Keaton swore he saw a squid, but it was— Nay, wait. What about the time we careened the ship on that island with the— No! No, I should tell you the story of when this strange creature snuck aboard the ship and—

GJ: Rina, we’ve been at this for an hour and over two thousand words now. And I still have sixteen more questions! Can we please wrap this up some time today?

RB: *frowns* But I was just getting to the good stories. I—

GJ: *glowers*

RB: *throws hands up* Very well. One last story. What had she asked for?

GJ: A scary story.

RB: *chuckles* Luv, all pirate tales are horror stories, trust me. I don’t think there was ever anything that came off to me as frightening—I’m not easily scared, you know—but there was this one time we were in Port Royal…when I was, oh, ten and four, perhaps. I was in charge of watching Julius—he had to have been seven at the time—whilst his father was at port. We had strict orders not to leave the ship, but you know how children are, always making mischief.

GJ: I do. Now please continue.

RB: Right then. So off go these two children—well, I wouldn’t call myself a child. I was drinking at the time. Deuces, I’ve been drinking since I was ten, probably!

GJ: Don’t you think that’s unhealthy, Rina? I wouldn’t necessarily be proud of that.

RB: Well, unlike you modern day folk, we didn’t have clean water. So it was boiled water purified with alcohol or dysentery and cholera and typhoid and—

GJ: Back to the story, please.

RB: *grunts* Off we go, down these deep, dark alleyways. Julius was terrified the entire time, but it wasn’t until we’d lost sight of the taverns Uncle Maverick frequented and we were in the most dangerous side of town.

GJ: Wasn’t all of Port Royal dangerous? They called it the Wickedest City on Earth back in your day, you know.

RB: Yes, yes. And it was! But every wicked city has one section that’s simply wickeder than wicked. This side of town was like Tortuga—absolutely evil. Even my uncle never stepped foot on that side. He rarely went to Tortuga either, at least after Julius was born. You know how it is with—

GJ: Children. Yes, I know. Go on. I’ve only got five more minutes before my next interview.

RB: Oh! You have another interview? *leans forward* Who with?

GJ: No one you would know, Catherina.

RB: *slinks back* Good grief, Grace. Crabby today, are we?

Let me see…aye. We’re in the darkest side of Port Royal, and Julius calls out to me, pointing his finger at this dark, almost empty looking building. God bless his soul, he thought his mother was in there. And at this time, Julius was determined to find his mother one day. He doesn’t want anything to do with her now, but you know—never mind.

So I took him by the hand and led him in there, certain his mother wasn’t inside, but he just wanted to see, you know? Instead, there was this scraggly old woman, hunched over with no teeth and dreadlocks, chanting these words… *shudders* I got scared then. Only other time I’ve seen a witch so menacing and forbidding was when I was in Singapore back in ‘80.

The Lord spared us that day. We ran out of there like the devil was at our heels—well, he was, actually. Nearly didn’t make it back to the ship. I have never been so terrified in my life.

Anyway, I better stop now, oughtn’t I? Before you have me head?

GJ: Yes. Something like that. Well, it’s been a pleasure, Rina. I suppose I’ll be seeing you again in a few weeks to finish up the rest of these questions?

RB: Oh, yes, that would be lovely! Thank you ever so much for having me, Miss Johnson. This has truly been an experience. And good day to all you who read our interview—thank you for your time and your questions and, well, keep them coming! I’d love to answer some more!

GJ: *mutters* Oh, no, you don’t.

About the Captain

(Image not available)

Born in 1655 as Catherina Winterbourne, Rina was raised by her uncle (who may, or may not, have abducted her when she was a baby...but that's a story for another day), infamous pirate captain Maverick Blackstone, until the day of his death in 1673, when Rina was elected captain in his place.

Since then, Rina has been pardoned for her crimes and given letters of marque by the British monarchy. She is now married to Xavier Bennet and has two twin sons, Richard and Maverick.

You can find her aboard her ship, the Rina, or with her husband's family in Port Royal. Upon occasion, she visits London. Most of the time she laments the lack of properly tailored shirts for women and time travels to the 21st century to be interview by popular historical romance author, Grace A. Johnson.

Coming Soon: Daylight by Yours Truly

It is with great pleasure that I finally announce to you (like I've been promising to do for nearly three months now) the upcoming release of Daylight.

I had plans to finish it up and send it on its way to the hands of readers everywhere (okay, just across America, Canada, England, Australia, Malaysia, Germany, and France - where most of my readers reside), but between being a really slow writer with horrible time management skills and deciding on a very significant release date, the release of Daylight has been pushed back...

To September 11th, 2021.

On that day - the twentieth anniversary of the events of 9/11 - I'll have a very special post highlighting the inspiration behind this story.

Until then, I'd like to share with y'all my terrible-but-the-best-I-could-do blurb (there is literally nothing more difficult than writing a blurb for a short story) and some fun release date graphics (which you are more than welcome to share)...and maybe a couple other fun goodies!

About the Book

It was too late.

The whole world knew it, the nations shaking their heads at the fallen United States, our beautiful country of hope and freedom covered in blood and ashes.

Only the devil could’ve planned something so disastrous.

Only God could save us now.

Only God could save August.

It was all my fault that he nearly lost his life, dashing back into the hailstorm of debris to save a man who was already dead. I can only hope that he’ll recover—that we will recover.

Because some things will never be forgotten.

Graphics

Opportunities to Influence

If you're interested in joining the blog tour (which will be pretty short and simple, so don't stress yourself out), you can sign up here ! If you're interested in reviewing Daylight, let me know in the comments! If you'd like to beta read it (it's like only 4k words, so it shouldn't take you but a day or two), sign up here !

FUN STUFF!

Okay. *rubs hands together* Now I can share the fun stuff with y'all, like...

THE PLAYLIST!

And the PINTEREST BOARD!

And this beautiful tribute song that only exists on YouTube, so I could add it to the playlist, so you get to listen to it here!!!

Y'all will not believe how difficult it was to (1) find pins that correspond with a story that has only two characters and one setting...and (2) to find songs about/inspired by 9/11 that weren't rap or offensive. Not to mention it's basically impossible to find people who look the way I envision my characters, as per usual, so those people-pins up there are just...guidelines, I guess. I actually see Sylvie with hair like Meg Ryan in You've Got Mail and dark brown lowlights, but without any of her facial features. And August looks like a really young (as in Smallville young), really frowny Tom Welling...mixed with a really young (like Rocky young) Sylvester Stallone.

And y'all can imagine there are very few people who look like that. (But seriously, though, if any of y'all know a guy who looks like Tom Welling + Sylvester Stallone and is about twenty years old, please tell me so I can marry him. Thank you.)

Well, I guess that wraps up this post! I hope y'all enjoyed learning (finally) about this short story of mine! Let me know what you think and what you're looking forward to about Daylight!

#shortstory #comingsoon #newrelease #daylight #releaseday #blurb #aboutthebook

Twenty Years Older: A Letter Tag

Well, y'all, I have been legitimately tagged! (This makes the second time, I think.) Super huge thank you to Victoria over at Soli Deo Gloria for tagging me! You can read her awesome post here!

This letter tag was so fun (and I stayed up way too late writing to myself)! I may have taken a few liberties with how my life and the world will be twenty years from now, but isn't that what makes this so exciting?

So, without further ado, let's dive in!

The Rules

Appreciate the blogger who nominated you. (Thanks, Victoria!) Mention Gauri@BrighterAlleys, creator of this letter tag. Answer the question, which is a task to write a letter. Now, nominate five bloggers who you think are worth it. Make sure they know that they are nominated.

The Letter

Oh, and I guess we made it. Or at least we made it this far, and it all looks smooth from here…

Remember that song? Relient K, “At Least We Made It This Far.” By now, it’s even older than it is when you’re listening to it. And, just so you know, it’s still stuck inside your—er, my—head. (So is the memory of dancing to it in your pajamas…)

But my purpose for writing to you (or me, whichever I prefer, I reckon) is not to reminisce. (All right, it is. But mainly I’m here to give you advice.)

Just so you know, you really did make it. You’re nearly thirty-six now (dang, I’m old), you’re married to—well, I won’t spoil that for you. You’ll find out soon enough. (Remember to keep trusting God; He really does have an amazing, wonderful, faithful, God-fearing super hot man in store for you!)

Not to mention you’re closing in on those eight kids you wanted. (Yeah, it’s more chaotic than you’d like, but so worth it. Trust me. I wouldn’t give up my munchkins for anything in the world.)

And, no, you’re not a famous author (I knew you were wondering). You’re pretty mediocre, I guess. I mean, not your writing. Of course that’s fantastic (not like I’m biased or anything), but you’re not up there with…(who are popular authors in 2021?) authors like J.K. Rowling and Stephen King and what have you.

What’s important is that you have reached so many people—and you’re continuing to. God has taken your stories across the world and right next door, into the hands of readers who truly value your words—and more than that, into the hands of readers who are drawn closer to God because of them. (Not to mention you’ve made a lot of amazing reader friends. You really have turned out to be that sweet writer lady, like Miss Julie. I’m still kind of crabby in real life, though.)

Speaking of reaching people…I know you feel the call to missions. Why? Because, for one, I’m you, and for two, I still feel that call—it just hasn’t happened yet, but it will. All in God’s timing.

But enough spoilers. Let’s cut to the chase.

Trust God, Grace. He has the most spectacular plan for you...girl, you can’t even imagine. He’s got you in the palm of His hand, cradling you and tenderly holding you close to His heart.

It’s tough getting there—and I’m not even there yet (shoot, I’m only thirty-five!)—but you’ll get there. You’ll start that indie press and you’ll inspire so many writers. You’ll balance your callings and have a full life. You’ll raise up some amazing young’uns. You’ll turn out to be way more romantic than you thought. (Like all those pins on Pinterest…you know, about all that unrealistically sweet and romantic stuff? Yeah, that’s you and your husband in the future. Okay, maybe not that romantic—this isn’t a novel, mind you—but close enough.) You will even get good at driving! (That’s not to say you’ll like it. But you’ll be able to do it without killing anyone, so there’s that. Plus, we have flying cars now...so don’t worry overmuch about mastering land driving. Flying is way worse, trust me.)

Anyway…I hope this letter was what you needed today. That the words I penned to you and mailed back in time (because we totally have those capabilities in 2041) resonate within you in this very moment. Maybe you were having one of those days (you were probably PMS-ing…) when you started to wonder...wonder what the future would look like, if you would turn out as you hoped, if you followed God’s will for your life and never turned away...(if your husband was good-looking...in which case, he is)…

Maybe you were, and maybe this is what you needed. I hope so. You know how it is when I write letters. And, yes, you do still write people letters...because, for some reason, snail mail stuck around.

Shalom (because you eventually ditch “peace out”),

Your older (and way more gorgeous) self,

Grace

PS: You never end up with any nickname other than Gracie. Gray just didn’t fit. So, yeah, there’s that.

PSS: I typed this out for a reason...my handwriting is still crappy. Better, but still not good enough for public consumption.

PSSS: Everyone gets over the pink-haired, girly-looking Korean dude thing, so please stop fussing about it.

PSSSS: But people still listen to country. So you just gon have to deal with dat.

PSSSSS: Rock is back, though. But seriously way better than the 2000s...because, yes, that is possible.

PSSSSSS: Oh, and Rina’s still here. She’s old and grey now...but just as much fun as ever. She is literally the one character who will never die. She told me to tell you hi. (And, no, fictional characters do not actually talk in 2041. Except the ones in movies.)

PSSSSSSS: Speaking of movies...there may be one in the works. But no spoilers, you hear me?

Anyway. I better sign off for real now. Love you, me. Bye, me. Have fun living, me. Make sure you meet all your friends in real life, because they are seriously way cooler in person, me. (You’re the one that’s better online.)

And please, whatever you do, don’t stay up past midnight tonight, okay?

The Tags

Issabelle @ Into My Writing Journey Kadotake @ The Fantastical Musings of Kadotake-san Joy Caroline @ Disciples Who Write E. K. Seaver YOU!

#lettertag #twentyyearsolder #seeyouinthefuture #blogtag #ichallengeyou

The Crossing (Reign: Part 11)

Reign

Part 11: The Crossing

Brehn

We neared the fringes of the City. Were we truly that close to freedom?

I eyed the last remaining pillar that stood as a testament to the raw power of the flood from years past. There was nothing beyond it but open ocean, which the Siren claimed was usually guarded by the Naiads.

Usually, but not today.

I wouldn’t know if there were any Naiads or not, what with how well camouflaged they were with the elements, but if that rogue nymph was trustworthy, then these waters were empty. But for us, that is.

“This is as far as I can take you.” Seira halted before our boat, her wispy fingers holding it back. “All you have left to do is cross the ocean to reach Parvi,” she said, the tip of her tail reaching out toward a dot on the horizon.

Parvi.

Freedom.

I drank it in, even though it was nothing more than a grey speck…because, to me, it signified a liberty I had never once been granted. No more dictatorship, no more obligations, no more corrupt powers. No more restrictions, no more oaths, no more shame.

Aye, my reason for leaving was to keep Ambrosia safe…but now that I was here, on the brink of a new life, I saw that there was more in it than just protection. We could carve out a completely different existence for ourselves, one guided by our own desires—not the cruel hand of the monarchy or the constricting vice of the Guardians.

If only Corinna were here.

Nay, Brehnan! You must not think like that! Corinna is dead, what you had with her is dead, and all of this fanciful nonsense ought to die as well. You are Ambrosia’s Guardian, and it is up to you to behave like one—that doesn’t mean daydreaming about what was not and could have been. That means preparing to give my life and all my dreams for my—for my queen.

I drew my eyes away from the ocean, shut them against the images that formed in my mind. If it weren’t for me, none of this would have happened. I was the reason the Regent wanted the throne. I was the reason Ambrosia was in danger. I was responsible—and it was time I started acting like it.

“Can you not stay, Seira?” Ambrosia’s voice, a great deal softer than it had been an hour ago, broke through my guilty haze. “You have come this far.”

Seira laughed—and even though it poured forth from her fanged, forked mouth, it was strangely musical. Nay, not strangely—exactly the way it should be. She was a Siren, after all, and every note her lips formed was meant to swell and sway, meant to tantalize and seduce.

And it was working.

If only she would laugh again and let me soak in the sound. If only she would sing to me.

“I have come too far, Your Majesty. Charis cannot hold the Naiads off for much longer, and I have no doubt that my sister Sibylla is on my tail, waiting to confront me. Better than I meet her alone than risk her meeting you.” Seira’s eyes flicked to mine, rolled until the slits were vertical instead of horizontal, and seemed to scan me up and down.

“Sibylla prefers brunets with a little more bulk, but it’s been so long since a man has ventured to the City that I’m sure she’d find even your Guardian tempting.”

Sibylla prefers? Really? The monster has a preference of which type of man she likes to eat? That’s just…that’s wrong.

I wonder what Seira’s preference is.

And there I went again, letting my mind drift to places it ought not.

“My point is, Queen Ambrosia, that this is where I must leave you. I understand if you feel no need to…compensate me. I don’t know what’s going on or why you’re running, but if you find yourself in the castle again, if you would remember me and my family…”

“Of course, Seira. But it would please me greatly to have you accompany us to Parvi. I can assure you that my uncle will not fall prey.” Ambrosia gave me a small smile (she was apparently oblivious to my incredulous expression) and reached out to take the Siren’s hand in hers.

That girl. She was as overbearing as her mother, as stubborn as her uncle, and as cunning as her father.

And she made him proud every day, that much I was sure of.

Seira sighed, jostling a curl of dark hair that had wound ‘round her scales. “I appreciate it—”

“Nay, no more of that. You’re coming with us, where you can be free! Don’t you want that?”

“Of course I do, but…”

“‘Tis your family. You don’t want to leave them.”

She nodded. “I couldn’t. I know I couldn’t, even if I were able to leave this place.”

Ambrosia leaned even closer, and I would have jerked her back and demanded she be silent if it weren’t for the fact that she was known to disobey me and the vulnerable expression on the Siren’s face.

Vulnerable. Ha!

But as strange as it would seem, there was fresh moisture in the creature’s odd eyes.

“Come with us,” Ambrosia repeated, this time in a low whisper. “And once we’re settled, you can go back for your family and bring them with us. Let’s cross over into this new place, this new life, together, Seira. Please? It’s the least I can do, since…”

Since she can do nothing else with the Regent in control.

There was a long, aching silence that fell over us before Seira’s blood red lips parted and released six life-changing words. “Yes, I will cross with you.”

Missed Part 10? Read it ,here!

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