Beth Alvarez's Blog, page 5

An Exercise in Frustration (Pt. 2)

He was different when she saw him again. Firal did not know how to explain it, but she sensed the change in the air between them as soon as he saw her. It was tense, charged, but not in the way Kytenia might have her hope. Instead, it made her skin prickle and crawl, made her dread what was to come. That was not the sort of expression a happy man wore, she knew. But he was troubled more than angry, though an undercurrent of dissatisfaction lapped at the edges of his presence.

Despite it all, Firal offered a smile. “I’m sorry,” she said as she hurried closer. They had agreed to meet in the waiting area just outside the Spiral Palace’s Gate rooms, and from the look of things, he’d been waiting for some time. “It took longer than I anticipated. Kytenia had a lot to say.”

Rune stood to greet her. “Is she well?”

“Settling in. The same as all of us, I suppose.” She stopped before him and tried to cling to her cheer, but it felt false and her smile faded the moment his eyes swept past her to settle somewhere else.

“My lord,” someone called, the title both halting and breathless. “Wait a moment. Please.”

Firal turned, expecting a page. Instead, she found a scholar, his robes disheveled and his spectacles hanging crooked at the end of his nose.

He fixed those as he gasped for breath. “Lord Kaim-Ennen. Forgive me, I came as soon as—I won’t take but a moment, I was told I—this was to be delivered directly, but in person, to give formality.” The man straightened and offered a sealed letter.

Twin lines etched themselves between Rune’s brows as he took it, but he did not need to ask anything, for the scholar went on the moment the letter left his hands.

“The Academy is expanding, with the king’s blessing. We understand you have formally retired from His Majesty’s army, and so we would like to offer you a permanent position as a tenured professor.”

“Tenured?” Rune repeated with as much frown in his voice as there was on his face.

“The full details of the offer are in the letter,” the scholar added. “You may review it at your leisure, but we look forward to hearing from you.”

Firal’s brows rose, but she said nothing until the scholar said his goodbyes and disappeared. “An interesting choice for that role.” She kept her voice light, playful, but he did not seem to notice. Instead, he looked at the letter in his hands.

“Professor of what?” he murmured.

She wondered that, too. He’d always been exceptional with magic, but she could say nothing of his academic skills. Whether they existed or not, she could not say; he had so seldom attended classes at Kirban Temple, she wasn’t sure he’d received much education at all.

He did not open the letter, though, leaving her curiosity unsatisfied. He slipped it into his pocket as a mage stepped through the doorway.

“Your Gate is ready,” the woman said without giving them a second glance.

The casual way the people of the Spiral Palace managed Gates still left Firal unsettled. She’d had her own Gating parlor in Ilmenhith’s palace, but the portals had been managed with a certain measure of decorum that was neglected here. The Triad’s capital had diplomats and other people of importance coming and going at all hours of the day and night, and the mages who opened and closed the portals worked in shifts as if the task were an ordinary job.

Rune motioned for her to lead the way, and Firal strode followed the white-robed Master mage without another word.

They traveled that way often enough that there was always a mage on shift who could open a Gate directly to his house. Firal was still unsure if ‘house’ was an appropriate description of the place, given its size, but acknowledging the place as an estate with accompanying lands still made her itch. She was not jealous; at least, not of that. But how easily he had carved a space for himself in this new world was strange, and in the wake of everything she’d lost, she admitted it was hard to face. He’d been uprooted from everything, cast into the world without anyone to aid him, and he’d managed to flourish.

On the other hand, she’d been a queen, and she didn’t even know where her people were.

Rune guided her through the Gate without so much at flinching at its magic. He’d always been that confident, and she wasn’t sure why she’d expected it would change after the cleansing of his Gift. They had not discussed the changes in his power. She did not think they would soon.

He opened the door for her, but the distant look in his eyes told her his mind was elsewhere.

“I’ll prepare a meal for us,” she offered. “You are hungry?”

“Sure.” He did not reach for the letter in his pocket, yet it had to be eating away at him. As she expected, the moment the door was shut, he turned toward the leftmost hall that branched from the grand entryway. He’d be off to his study, then, would settle at his desk and see what the letter had to say.

Firal forced herself to smile. “I’ll let you know when it’s ready.”

He disappeared into the hallway and the moment he was gone, she second-guessed everything she’d done.

Should she have tried to hold his hand as they walked? Should she have invited him to help her cook? Maybe batted her eyes at him and lean close enough to let her actions ask for a parting kiss? The racing thoughts were enough to make her groan.

This was going to be harder than she thought.

~:~:~:~:~:~:~

Little hands gripped the edge of the table, too close to the cutting board for comfort. Firal dared not shoo her away. After all they’d been through, part of her still feared letting the girl out of her sight. Leaving for her meeting with Kytenia had been a challenge, and though nothing had happened in her absence, her nerves were not soothed.

“Here.” She scraped a handful of chopped vegetables into a bowl and pushed it toward those tiny fingers. “Take this to Minna.”

The girl beamed as she took the bowl and hurried across the kitchen. Lulu was small for her age—or at least, for her stage of development—but she was steady on her feet and deliberate with her little hands. She presented the bowl of vegetables to her nursemaid with pride.

How quickly Lulu had taken to the ruin-folk woman. Firal was grateful; there were few she trusted as much as Minna, and her presence had been a blessing, yet watching her elderly friend with her child left a sense of guilt dragging in her chest.

“There, that’s everything.” Minna beamed at the girl as she accepted the vegetables and added them to the pot. “Thank you, little one.”

Firal swallowed against an uncomfortable thickness in her throat. “Will you be joining us for the meal?”

“Oh, no, my lady, we’ve already eaten. Not to make you feel sorry for coming home late, of course. Your business in the Royal City is important.” The old woman’s whole face crinkled with her smile. “If it’s all right, I think the little one and I could do with some time in the garden while you eat.”

“Of course.” Firal was of no mind to deny Minna anything, not after everything she’d done. Every time they had crossed paths, Minna had been eager to step in and help, even when there was little to no reward. It was so different from what Firal had grown used to—scheming mages and politicians, all out to advance their own standing by any means necessary—that she hardly knew how to respond. “Thank you for everything you’ve done today. I can finish from here.”

“Very well. Come along, then, Lu. Let’s go outside.” Minna offered a hand to the girl beside her, who tucked her chubby little hand into the old woman’s grasp and eagerly made her way toward the back door.

That guilt came back as Firal watched the two of them slip into the yard.

How many moments like that had she missed while she was on the throne? While she’d been occupied with managing a kingdom instead of her own household? She’d fought to be involved with her own child, contrary to what was expected of a queen, but she’d still missed it. She’d missed so much, and it made her heart ache.

How different things would have been if they’d gone to plan. If they’d stayed in Core and called her single-room dwelling home, or if they’d moved to the surface settlement to reside in the house her husband had tried to build for her with his own two hands.

It was gone, now.

The house. The caves of Core. Everything she’d known.

Even his hands had changed.

Firal struggled to push the thought away as she replaced Minna by the stove and stirred the thickening stew.

This was nothing new, she told herself. She’d lost everything before, and more than once. She had rebuilt then and she would rebuild now, but this time, the foundation would be all the things that mattered most.

Her family.

Her daughter.

Her home.

She fixed those thoughts so intensely in the forefront of her mind that she missed the soft sound of footsteps and only realized she was not alone when a chair scraped back from the table. She looked back with a start.

If Rune noticed he’d surprised her, it did not show. He settled in his chair and rubbed his eyes with one hand, no less weary or troubled as he’d been when they returned home.

A warning, perhaps, of what that letter had contained.

“It’s almost ready,” she said with a smile, in hopes it would soften the edges of whatever bothered him now. “Do you want to eat in here?”

He seemed confused by the question, for he looked at the table and chairs and then glanced around the room. “Where else?”

“The big dining room?” Firal retrieved bowls from the cabinets and savored the way the ordinary ceramic felt in her hands. She’d grown used to luxury over the years she’d spent in the palace, but it had never made her feel like she belonged. The dishes they used at meal times in his house were simple enough to be grounding, reminding her of where she’d started.

The temple had never offered anything fine, and neither had Core.

She liked it that way.

“That room never gets used,” Rune replied dryly, as if the question were enough to make him reconsider the room’s existence.

“It did when everyone was here.” She didn’t need to specify when; he’d been gracious to host her closest friends when Ilmenhith fell.

He did not seem amused. “I’m not interested in entertaining.”

“I never thought you were.” She wouldn’t argue, then. Most of their meals were taken in the kitchen, and that would be fine. She filled their bowls and carried them to the table, then retrieved a pitcher of water and cups for both of them. “Are you done with business for the day?” She meant the letter. From the look of consternation that crossed his face, he knew.

He scooped a bite of stew into his mouth without regard for the temperature, then sucked air in through his teeth.

“That good of news, was it?” She settled across from him. Sitting by his side still struck her as too familiar, and yet, they should have been familiar. Wasn’t that the goal?

Rune shook his head. “They want me to teach history and culture.”

An odd proposal. Mages were long-lived, but many had lived far longer than he. She had never asked after his exact age, but given the circumstances of their childhoods, she knew they were a scant few months apart. Among mages, that was nothing. “History of what?”

“Elenhiise. The ruin-folk, specifically.”

Oh.

Firal tempered her inward response with a small smile. That stung; she had led them for years, had lived alongside them the same way he had.

Yet she’d never been integrated into their ways like he had. They had accepted him, honored him, and given him one of their names.

That name still came to the tip of her tongue sometimes, whenever she tried to speak of him.

“Are you going to accept?” She didn’t know what else to ask.

“I don’t know.”

She’d expected as much. “How are they doing, by the way? The ruin-folk? I’ve heard so little since Tobias took over the work of settling them.”

“I haven’t heard anything, either.” He scarcely looked up.

Firal pushed her spoon through the stew in her bowl.

She was terrible at this. Small talk had always been awkward, but it was so far removed from the way they’d always related to each other that it struck her as unnatural now. There had to be a better way to get through this, to re-forge the sort of deep and introspective connection they’d shared before. She worried her lower lip between her teeth and stared at her food without seeing.

She still had yet to take a bite when he spoke again.

“Listen. I know a lot has changed,” he said slowly, as if testing his words. “Everything has changed. But I thought maybe…”

Firal glanced up, curious.

A shadow of doubt hung on Rune’s face. “It might be a good idea for us to… meet with someone. Speak with someone. About everything.”

She sat a little straighter. Yes; that was a good idea. Tobias was busy, but there had to be those in the Royal City who knew what was going on throughout the Triad, who would let her do her part to help organize the groups of refugees who had once been her people. “A councilor, perhaps?”

He paused with his spoon in midair, surprised. “Yes.”

“That sounds like a wonderful idea.” Her grasp of the regional dialect was not the best, but he was fluent, and if the two of them went together then she would have no difficulty in communicating with the people in charge.

“I’ll arrange it tomorrow,” he replied, almost in a rush. “We’ll start as soon as we can.”

His eagerness, coupled with the way he visibly relaxed, should have been her first warning.

Cover Reveal: The Witch and the Wyrm

I’ve mentioned a couple times this year that I was working on my first fairy tale retelling. Well, that book being done managed to sneak up on me, and now for the good news: The Witch and the Wyrm will be released on June 29!

You can preorder your copy on Amazon now. As usual, signed paperbacks will be available soon.

Writing a fairy tale retelling was totally new to me, and I really enjoyed taking the existing story framework and twisting it to fit all the things I wanted to cram into this story. And now that the book is officially available for preorder, I get to share the beautiful cover with you. I see so many beautiful typography-based covers these days, and I really wanted to try my hand at making one. Here’s how it turned out…

Let me tell you, I had so much fun designing this book’s cover! It was really different from anything I’d ever done before, but I loved working on it and would love to do more book covers like this in the future. I guess if I ever write anything else in this story world, I could turn it into a series? Not sure yet. Right now, I think this one is offbeat enough on its own.

But what’s it about? Well, here goes…

Adelinde has spent her entire life dreaming of marrying Bastian, the prince she helped save when she was just a child. But when tragedy strikes and Bastian’s brother is slain, he is thrust into the role of heir to the throne, shattering any hope of a union with a simple peasant girl like Adelinde. Now his hand has been promised to the daughter of a powerful witch, and in exchange, the witch promises to destroy the dragon that took his brother’s life.

Unwilling to abandon his love for Adelinde, Bastian rejects the witch’s daughter—and as punishment, is transformed into a worm. Now, to save her homeland and rescue the prince from his curse, Adelinde must embark on a perilous quest at the witch’s behest, uncover the secrets behind the dragon’s rampage, and face the threat of the ultimate sacrifice to prove her unwavering love.

The Witch and the Wyrm is a sweet, no-spice retelling of the fairy tale Jorinda and Joringel, a romantic fantasy that weaves a heartwarming story of courage, sacrifice, and the enduring power of love.

Which means, yes, I took the popular question of “Would you still love me if I was a worm?” and turned it into a book.

You’re welcome.

The Witch and the Wyrm will be out on June 29, so preorder your copy here and I’ll see you then!

April’s story prompt

At this month’s writer meeting, we spent a lot of time discussing short story structure. Building off of that, we did two prompts instead of just one. The first prompt used a three-sentence structure, explaining what each part of this tiny bit of flash fiction should do.

First sentence: Establishes character. Who is the hero or heroine?
Second sentence: The shattering moment that happens to this character; something that changes their world.
Third sentence: The aftermath.

The second prompt went back to the usual requirement of three words that had to be included in the story. The words for this month were carriage, sandwich, and house.

While everyone else there wrote two separate pieces of flash fiction, I combined mine into one slightly longer story.

You can try this prompt out for yourself… or you can just let me know what you think.
Here’s what I ended up with.

~:~:~:~:~:~:~

Old Jodd had trained as a carpenter, not an innkeeper, though he’d never doubted he would someday take over the Cackling Crow when the mountains called his father home, and the inn would bring new challenges.
Challenge was the last thing on his mind the moment the dragon’s tail ripped through the front wall, shattering glass and spraying splinters backwards across the tables.
Troublesome, but not impossible, as the timbers still stood—promising a chance to use the skills he knew as he rebuilt with a new open-air floor plan.
Houses were easier to remodel, but the Crow was not the first three-story building Jodd had worked on, and at least the mountains above his new home provided plenty of timber. He ruminated over how many trees would be felled because of this week’s dragon attack while he sat in front of the bar with a sandwich in his hand. He scarcely looked up when a black-lacquered carriage bearing the duke’s crest on its side creaked to a halt in front of what used to be the front door.
The driver stared for a long time before he cleared his throat. “Is the inn… open?”
Jodd turned his head, examining the tanner’s shop across the street, and raised his sandwich for another bite. “More than it’s ever been!”

An Exercise in Frustration (Pt. 1)

This is an ongoing companion piece to be read after completing the Snakesblood Saga. Because it takes place during the final chapter of the last book, it will be very full of spoilers. It’s also unedited first draft fluff… just for fun! Read at your own risk, and expect installments no closer together than once a month.

* * * * *

The teapot’s spout clinked against the edge of the teacup to shed the last hovering drop. Firal watched it with envy as it slid down the white porcelain and disappeared into the cup. She felt more like that droplet than she liked to admit, trapped hanging at the edge of something, unable to move. She wished something would come along and scrape her off the same way. Even if she landed in a sea of strangers, it had to be better than clinging to uncertainty familiarity. Yet she couldn’t let go.

“So.” Kytenia put down the teapot and took their drinks from the table, moving slowly as the cups rattled on their saucers. “It’s been a few weeks. What’s happened since then?”

Firal held out both hands to accept her serving of tea. The cups were elegant in shape, but plain white, like the Master mage’s robe her friend wore. The robes here were more modern, and Kytenia’s bore ornate braid work and embroidery, befitting an Archmage, but it did not change the stark austerity of the color. “That’s the difficult part,” she said as she lowered the saucer to her lap and balanced it there. “Nothing.”

Kytenia offered a tray of sugar cubes as she took one for herself. Firal shook her head, so she shrugged and put them away. “What do you mean, nothing? He kissed you, he said that he loves you, you live in his house. Surely something must come of that.”

And yet, nothing had. Firal tried to make sense of it as she drank.

She hadn’t expected it would be easy. Theirs was a relationship torn apart by deception and war, and mending it was no small feat. She had expressed her desire to rekindle things, Rune had kissed her, and then… She swallowed her mouthful of tea and let herself sigh. “If I’m to be honest, he’s avoiding me.”

Kytenia’s brows rose. She shook her head. “Men.” The Archmage of Lore settled in the wingback chair on the other side of the low table and sipped her tea. “But I suppose we already know communication isn’t his strong suit. Are you still planning to go through with it?”

“With what?”

“Trying to remarry him.”

Firal’s cheeks heated. “Of course I am.” She still loved him, after all. She always had.

“Well, there’s only one thing to do, then.” Kytenia sat her cup aside.

“And what’s that?” Firal almost dreaded to ask.

Her friend leaned forward with her hands braced atop her thighs. “You’re going to have to seduce him.”

~:~:~:~:~:~:~

“Been a long time since you were here.” Garam’s voice echoed in the emptiness of the gymnasium. He was the only one who sat on the sidelines; the other two people present were in the sandy ring.

Rune snorted as he descended the last few stairs. “Only what, a month?”

“A long time, for you. You used to be in here every single day.” The former captain did not rise to greet him.

Rune didn’t expect him to. Garam was old; their days of sparring were long gone. The captain was little more than an instructor now, but he hadn’t come for guidance. His eyes swept to the figures sparring in the round, sandy ring. Or, they had been sparring. They’d stopped when Garam spoke, and Rune raised his chin in greeting.

The king nodded back.

“What brings you down?” Garam asked.

“Heard Vicamros was down here.” Rune rocked on his feet and stayed where he was, rather than joining Garam on the long stone benches that ringed the training arena. His boots still felt strange. His feet still felt strange. He wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to walking with his feet flat on the ground.

“I meant here as in the Royal City. You’ve asked to be excused from every council meeting since…” Garam trailed off.

“We assumed you’ve been busy,” Vicamros called.

Rune gave him a flat look. He should have expected such ribbing.

A low chuckle welled in Garam’s throat. “That’s one way of putting it. How are you liking life as a family man? Never expected you to settle, if I’m honest.”

The question had been inevitable, but it still made Rune grimace. “I’m not.”

Vicamros signaled to his sparring partner, telling him they were done, and strode toward the edge of the ring. “Not enjoying it?”

“Not a family man,” Rune said.

A faint line creased the space between the king’s brows. “You’ve got the mother of your child and the child living in your house. You can’t pretend you don’t know how that seems.”

Rune crossed his arms and rocked on his feet again. “Well, you missed the part where she spent the last thirty years with a husband who’s now dead. The last thing she wants is for her host in a foreign country to be clawing at her.”

“You can’t claw at anything,” Garam said with the smallest hint of a smile. “You haven’t got them anymore.”

Which should have been a relief. It was the one thing Rune had spent his life pursuing.

After Firal, that was.

“You know what I mean,” he replied, irritated.

“All right, all right.” Garam made a soothing gesture with both hands. “But I am surprised. You have history, you seemed hopeful at the idea of having them there… what happened?”

Rune couldn’t think of anything he wanted to discuss less. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?” Vicamros repeated. A hint of concern touched the king’s face, laced with skepticism.

Of course they didn’t believe him. It wasn’t the truth. There had been the argument over correspondence from the ruin-folk, the confessions of feelings and the single kiss that followed, and a thousand longing glimpses shared ever since. But he’d chosen not to press, and she had chosen to allow the distance between them to remain.

When she was ready, she would come to him.

He feared he might die of anticipation before then.

“That’s when you’re supposed to charm her.” Garam leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees, though he grunted as it pushed his aging joints beyond what was comfortable. “You did it once before, didn’t you? How’d you win her over the first time?”

Rune hesitated.

“You had to have charmed her,” Vicamros added. “It’s not as if you have any other redeeming qualities.”

“Thank you for reminding me why I enjoy your company,” Rune said dryly. But they were right; she’d chosen him, in spite of the now-lost power that had made him a monster. Somehow, she’d seen past that.

“You said once that you met when you were young, when you were both studying magic. What was the one thing you did that made her see you as something other than a classmate?” Garam adopted the same tone he used when coaxing information out of a shaken soldier who was supposed to deliver a report. Given the situation, it was dangerously close to patronizing.

Rune gave him a flat stare. “I startled her. She fell and gave herself a head injury.”

“Oh, well, that explains a great deal,” Vicamros said.

“What?”

The king smirked. “There was something wrong with her head.”

Rune could not have been less impressed. Both men had been fellow soldiers; harsh jokes were to be expected. Yet that one landed differently and sent a prickle of agitation up the back of his neck. He smoothed it away with one hand.

It was difficult to tell what the turning point had been for her; he’d never asked, had never paid it much thought. All that mattered was she had reached it. She had accepted him, loved him, accepted his proposal. Looking back, he saw the moments when her feelings showed, but when had they begun?

He scrubbed the back of his neck a little harder with his palm, then sighed and bent to untie the laces of his boots. “Let’s go a round.”

“Us?” Vicamros asked, surprised.

Rune nodded as he pried his boots from his feet and then peeled off his shirt. He would have liked to tie back his hair—it had grown shaggy enough to be annoying again—but just getting in the sparring ring would help.

The king frowned. “You’re changing the subject. We’re trying to help you.”

“I’m not. I’m thinking, and this will help me think.” Rune looked to Garam, though he wasn’t sure why. Seeking approval from his commanding officer, maybe, or counsel from one of few trusted friends.

Garam’s face told him nothing.

“Well, we all know I won’t dissuade you.” Vicamros retrieved a set of wool-stuffed leather pads from a nearby supply shelf and wiggled them onto his forearms. “I’d much rather be prepared for you to hit me.”

Rune paced out onto the cool sand. It still felt strange, the soles of his feet too sensitive. Every lump and gritty grain of sand brought new and strange sensations, yet they were comforting, too. Satisfying and grounding in a way he’d never realized was possible.

He waited for Vicamros to join him in the sparring ring. He was used to this by now. A few punches to warm up, then they’d move on to wrestling or some other martial art.

The first crack of his knuckles against the pad was jarring, a harsh reminder of just how much had changed. Where his scales had protected him before, now thin, ordinary skin scraped.

He ignored it, welcoming the pain.

For a time, no words were exchanged. Nothing but the smack of fists against padding filled the air, a steady rhythm that only grew in intensity.

There had been something. A force that had drawn them together, that tied them together as inextricably as any knot. Something that had given them both purpose, that had helped them grow close.
Memories flitted through his head as his heart rate rose and each strike became more focused. Memories and frustration.

He hit harder, faster, training his thoughts on the single thread that had bound them.

“Whoa,” Garam called.

Vicamros stumbled as his heel hit the edge of the ring, the transition from soft sand to hard stone unexpected and difficult.

Rune dropped his hands to his sides. “Magic.” His knuckles stung. Dark smears across the wool-stuffed pads told him why. It was amazing how completely he’d been changed; even his blood was different.

“What?” Vicamros asked between unsteady breaths.

“Magic. When she was teaching me. That was what changed things, what pulled us together.” A job that was impossible now. His power and control had eclipsed hers long ago—and then it had vanished, snuffed our by a force no mortal could wield. He thought of the streaks of white he now sported at his temples, signs of what he’d survived.

What should have claimed his life.

Garam’s frown only deepened. “Not an easy path to retread.”

“No,” the king agreed. He glanced at the pads on his arms and his mouth tightened in mild displeasure, though what for, it was hard to say. He’d been tempered on the battlefield; it wasn’t the sight of blood that unsettled him. “I suspect you’ll need to find another way.”

Rune had already known that. It wasn’t as if they could just pick up where they’d left off; they’d ended things the same way they had reunited, with him bound and held prisoner before her throne.

There was much to atone for. Much he suspected she may never forgive.

Ever diplomatic, Garam cleared his throat. “If I may…”

“Please do.” Rune had come seeking, after all. Whether it was guidance, companionship, or momentary respite from the troubles he faced, he did not know, but all were welcome.

The former captain nodded as if he’d known. “Maybe you should speak with a counselor, instead of the king’s council.”

Rune considered that the same way he considered the sting in his hands. Something present, something he was aware of, his own doing and yet something he could no longer change. Slowly, he flexed his hands. “Yeah,” he agreed, the word a long, drawn-out sigh. “I think you may be right.”

Paragon of Water Wins Richard Wright Literary Award

Now that I’ve finally laid a very busy March to rest, I bring good news:

Paragon of Water, book 3 of Spectrum Legacy, was named Best YA Fantasy of 2023 in the MPL Richard Wright Literary Awards.

This is so exciting, and it means good things for readers in the Mid-South! Before long, you’ll be able to check out Spectrum Legacy from the public library.

That means this is also a good time to share a quick status update for progress on this series.

I’m still working on smoothing out a few hitches in the outline for Paragon of Shadow, but it’s close to being finished, and it’s done enough that I’ve already started drafting the beginning of the book.

Information for the cover has been sent to the cover artist, so that will be getting underway soon.

As of right now, book 5 is expected to be ready for publication at the end of this year, but no dates yet.

It’s a short update, but I hope it gives you something to look forward to.

Speaking of looking forward to things, you’ll be able to find me signing books (Yes, including Paragon of Water!) at the Memphis Bookstock Festival on April 6, so be sure to come out! I may have some goodies to give readers, too…

Coming soon: The Witch and the Wyrm

So it’s finally time to talk about this one–the next book heading out for edits, while I sort out all my notes for book 5 of Spectrum Legacy.

Coming this summer: The Witch and the Wyrm!

The Witch and the Wyrm is a stand-alone fantasy romance story, and I’ll be sharing more about it across the coming weeks, including a cover teaser that will be popping up on social media in the next few days!

It’s different from other things I’ve written and is one of my shorter books, as well as being my first fairy tale retelling. The Witch and the Wyrm is a retelling of the not-so-popular German fairy tale Jorinda and Joringel, although you’ll find my rendition of it isn’t all that faithful. For one, there’s a dragon, as you might have guessed from the title… and not all the birds are helpless.

This book is slated for release later this summer and will most likely be released in June or July.

If you’re interested in signing up to be an ARC reader, there are still openings! You’re free to contact me via email or social media, or if you sign up for my email newsletter, I’ll be sending out a call for ARC readers after edits are complete.

I can’t wait to share more about this story with you!

In other news, I’ll be making a special appearance at an author event in Memphis, Tennessee on April 6.

I’ll be at Bookstock Memphis from 11-3 that day, so if you happen to be in the area, be sure to stop by! Admission is free, and I’ll have a table for signing books. Bring your own, or buy a new one from me while I’m there. I’ll have all the Artisan Magic, Snakesblood Saga, Spectrum Legacy, and Westkings Heist books with me so you can fill in your collection with whatever you don’t have yet!

In pursuit of lost stories

When I was a girl, my great grandmother often read to me. It was common for her to give us books, too, and one of her most frequent gifts to me was fairy tales. One of my favorite collections of fairy tales came from her, and while they were her books at first, I was honored by the gift when she finally let me take it home. Those books are still on my shelves upstairs, but over the year, the other fairy tales she gave me have gotten lost.

You see, when I was small, our local newspaper published a column where they shared unusual fairy tales and folk tales from around the world. Some were stories I could find in the books she gave me, but quite a few were unique–so unique that even the ones I remember a lot about don’t turn up in searches online.

In the interest of sharing these fairy tales with my daughter, I’ve spent weeks combing online newspaper archives from the time period I clearly recall my grandmother cutting these out, but so far, the search has turned up nothing. Newspaper archives online aren’t always easy to navigate, and while it would be easier to scour the archives if I had access to the microfiche copies kept at libraries, my local library informed me they can no longer get microfiche on loan… and I now live a good 400 miles away from libraries that would have that paper in their archives.

As a last attempt to find these stories that have been so heavy on my mind lately, I wrote an email to one of the libraries I frequented in my childhood, as their website confirms they have microform archives of the newspaper I believe might have published these. If they can at least confirm I remember correctly and let me know which day of the week these stories were published, I should be able to find them… but unless I know exactly what I’m looking for, the stories are all but lost to me.

It’s funny, in a way–we say the internet puts all of mankind’s knowledge at our fingertips, but there are still so many pieces that seem to slip through the cracks. If it’s this easy for stories published only 30 years ago to vanish into the ether, can you imagine how many lost stories have slipped through the cracks and fallen out of memory? The most popular fairy tales can be several hundred years old, folk stories passed down through generations until they were finally bound and preserved and kept from fading away. But even those can fall out of common knowledge if they aren’t republished or spoken about, as it doesn’t take long for books to go out of print. How permanent are our stories, anyway?

What’s your favorite all-but-forgotten story? I’ve been delighted to see a few of mine coming back into popular knowledge, but quite a few fairy tales I’ve mentioned to friends are ones people don’t seem to have heard of very often.

More about that soon, though, since my current WIP is based on one of them.

Paragon of Light is available now!

Saturday brought a treat: The fourth book in Spectrum Legacy, my ongoing epic fantasy series!

It’s hard to believe it’s been a year since Paragon of Water was released, but the wait is over and I’m so excited to share this next chapter with you.

In book four, the crew embarks on a new journey that forces them to learn a lot about themselves… and face some of their darkest fears. I spent all of 2023 working to make sure this one contained all the secrets (and foreshadowing) it needed to hold, so I hope it shines. I know that was a long wait for this book and that waiting for a story can be harrowing–especially with the track record a lot of epic fantasy series have. There’s good news, though: the wait for book 5 will be shorter.  So stay tuned and keep your eyes peeled for updates. They’ll be coming before long!

Signed paperbacks will be available soon, while the unsigned kind are already available through your favorite bookstores. For those of you who can’t wait to dive into the latest adventure, you can find the ebook edition on Amazon now–or read free with Kindle Unlimited.

Click here to get your copy now.

Thank you all, dear readers, for your support and enthusiasm throughout the trying year it took to get this one done. I hope that Paragon of Light will satisfy your story craving and leave you eagerly awaiting the next installment, So grab a cup of tea and snuggle up in your favorite reading nook, and prepare to lose yourself in the new twists and turns.

Happy reading!

Story prompt from Story Cubes

This month at my local writer’s group meeting, our writing exercise involved story cubes! It was my first time getting to attend in a few months due to health, and I was super excited to be able to attend. We always do some sort of writing exercise, and this time, the group leader used Story Cubes.

3 cubes were rolled: One to represent the hero, one to represent the hero’s goal, and one to represent the obstacle. How you interpreted these and used them in your writing was up to you.  The dice rolled were:

Your hero: A monkey
The goal: Cloud with rain
The problem/obstacle: Pagoda

And because I used Story Cubes a lot to keep me going when I was writing Westkings Heist, I immediately thought of Tahl. I had 5 minutes to write something down, and here’s where I ended up.

You can scroll down to read this little vignette, and feel free to leave a comment and let me know what you think!

Maybe Tahl deserves more stories?

Bright laughter rose from the people below and Tahl paused mid-step. The poles for the circus tents were little challenge; he’d mastered climbing the tall pines that framed the Empire’s capital city years ago. He held fast to the pole with one hand and leaned back, letting his other arm dangle free as he glanced down. “What are they laughing about?”

He hadn’t been to the circus since his childhood, before his father had disowned him for his failures in the Academy. Seeing the tall poles—and the acrobats that had inspired him to learn to climb—had brought back a rare good memory, however fleeting. The laughter had been fast to dash it.

“They say you climb like a monkey,” one of the circus workers called back.

Tahl squinted. He wasn’t sure what a monkey was, but he was no stranger to the comparison. As a self-taught acrobat and a master thief, he’d grown used to being called a squirrel.

One of the foreign workers pantomimed the animal for his benefit. It was less than flattering, and Tahl decided he liked the squirrels better.

“They want to know how good you are at climbing,” the worker provided, and the men below nodded in agreement with the translation.

Tahl glanced skyward, to the gray clouds that gathered above the strange peaked tents and promised rain to hamper their work and slick everything with mud. “Wait until the storm starts, and I’ll show you.”

Cover Reveal: Paragon of Light

After long months of working to get this one just right, Paragon of Light, the fourth book of Spectrum Legacy, is now available for preorder–and the book release is right around the corner, on February 17!

You can click here to preorder your copy on Amazon now, or if you’re a paperback reader, print copies will be available by the end of February.

And here’s book four’s gorgeous cover…

I can’t wait to share this one with you in just a few weeks. I’m giving the book one last inspection before I upload the final version ahead of the book release.

Want to know what this one is about?

You can keep scrolling to learn, but be careful–we’re four books deep now, so this has some spoilers if you haven’t read the first three!

Here goes:In a single stroke, the once-mighty blade’s power was extinguished—and with it, the power to save their homeland.

Now, Zaide, Lark, and the Paragons must set forth on a quest to reach an ancient Oracle and unlock the secrets of the sword’s lost magic. But Lark harbors a secret of her own, one that threatens to shatter their hopes and obstruct their path to success.

As they seek the lost magic of the Paragons, whose lives are intertwined with the fate of the sword, danger looms greater than ever as Gadranus marshals forces against Amrochan, knowing only the powerless Spectrum Blade can stop him.

With the destruction of their homeland imminent, the group is forced to grapple with their greatest challenge yet: uniting the forces of light and darkness to restore the blade, restore hope, and rewrite destiny.

Prepare for adventure in Paragon of Light, book four of Spectrum Legacy, where alliances are forged, sacrifices are made, and the destiny of the world teeters on the sharp edge of a single sword.

Here’s to more books in 2024. This one is a great start!