Jennifer M. Zeiger's Blog, page 12

The Queen and the Poison – A Mystery of the Golden Shells Story

Welcome to the last short story in this collection. These are fun little peeks into the background of Mystery of the Golden Shells, which comes out this coming Monday, August 15th. If you missed the first five stories, you can find them here: The Scribe and the Rug, The Dresser and the Color, The Shellfish and the Cook, The Performer and the Faux Pas, and The Storyteller and the Help.

Or here’s a brief recap: Marissa is the new Queen of the capital. Her marriage was an arranged marriage with King Ashwin and as she’s started to take her place and gain the trust of the King, she may have rubbed some people the wrong way.

Let’s jump into the story!

The Queen and the Poison – A Mystery of the Golden Shells Story

Ashwin paced in front of the small dining table.

She’d stood him up. After months of Marissa Carey’s timid smiles and helping gestures, he’d finally begun to believe that maybe, just maybe, his queen had married him because she actually wanted peace between her Sky Kingdom and the Capital. He’d suspected her as a spy. Suspected the arranged marriage was the final ploy to steal the trading ports of the Capital.

But he’d finally thawed to her feminine whiles. And now she stood him up.

What possible reason could she have to leave him staring at two plates piled high with strawberry pancakes?

Was she making a fool out of him?

“Ashwin.”

He spun toward the door. “I’m a fool,” he told his steward, Robert, who’d just entered.

Robert cocked his white head. “Perhaps. Have you sent someone to check on her?”

“I’ll do it myself.” Ashwin stormed past the older man.

His boots thudded on the stone as he headed down the hall and, a moment later, he heard Robert’s lighter tread following. They turned into the Queen’s wing just as a maid was ducking out the door of the Queen’s chambers.

She spotted them and bowed but Ashwin didn’t miss the terror on her face.

Am I that angry?

“Your majesty,” she said, “the Queen—she’s—she’s umm—”

“She’s what?” he pushed past her into the room, hearing her squeak in surprise.

“She’s ill.”

He caught the words right as he shoved into Marissa’s bedchamber. She lay still in her bedclothes with her dark hair mussed around her face. But it wasn’t her disheveled appearance that made him freeze, it was the sorrow in the dark eyes that stared back at him.

“Ill how?” he asked, lowering his tone and moving to sit on the edge of the bed.

Marissa’s eyes followed him, but her head did not.

“I tried to get her out of bed,” the maid said, “but she’s—she’s—”

“You may go,” he said. The maid didn’t have to finish her sentence. Ashwin lifted Marissa’s hand from the coverlet. A steady pulse beat against the fingertips he placed on her wrist, but there was clearly no muscle reaction in her hand when he threaded his fingers through hers. “Get the physician,” he told Robert.

***

Hours later, Ashwin still sat on the edge of Marissa’s bed with his face cradled in his palm. “Who would poison her? Everyone knows how important our peace agreements are.”

Across from him, Robert sat in a chair with a boot propped on his opposite knee. The line between his heavy brows was a familiar one. It told Ashwin his longtime friend was thinking.

“She’s started to take her place here,” Robert finally said, “and it’s made some waves. The palace scribe almost lost his job, the cook was questioned by the guard and is on probation for the next month, your own dresser’s chaffing because the Queen doesn’t like his color choices—”

Ashwin groaned, knowing that at least the last one had been a ruse to cover his own color-blindness.

“—the performer from the other night probably lost all business in the city after being thrown out,” Robert continued, “and the storyteller filed a formal complaint at the guild against the palace for putting unreasonable stipulations on her craft. That’s just to name the ones I know about.”

Ashwin waved all that away. He wanted the poisoner, absolutely, but he had a more pressing problem. “There’s no cure.”

Robert grunted. “So the physician says.”

Aswin’s head swung up. “You don’t agree?”

His friend hesitated, then leaned forward, “I think we have to try. And while we’re at it, we might be able to kill two birds with one stone.”

“How so?”

“Isbell Island. Run a contest like usual but have the contestants be our suspects and have the challenge be the shells. Dangle the reward as ownership of the island.”

Ashwin stared at the older man. Isbell Island was dangerous in and of itself. But the myths said its golden shells could heal anything. And the carrot of land for the contestants might just be enough to get the poisoner to show his or herself.

A small grin started on Ashwin’s face, then faded. “But we’d need someone on the island we can trust, someone to search out shell and poisoner.”

It was Robert’s turn to smile. “A hunter.”

Ashwin shook his head. “If the poisoner sees a hunter, they’ll know what’s up.”

“Then it just has to be someone they don’t recognize.”

Ashwin tilted his head to look at Marissa. Although she couldn’t move or smile or wink at him, her eyes still followed his movements.

“You have someone in mind?” he asked.

“I have just the person.”

Threading his fingers through Marissa’s again, he nodded. “Good, set it up.”

As Robert left, tears trailed from the corners of the Queen’s eyes out into her dark hair. Ashwin wiped them away with his free thumb, hoping they were tears of hope.

The End

Thank you for stopping by! Obviously, this leaves you hanging concerning the story, but you get to be the hunter in the upcoming Adventure book, so I had to leave it here to lead into Mystery of the Golden Shells

Blessings,

Jennifer

P.S. Pre-orders for Mystery of the Golden Shells are open until Monday. If you’d like a signed copy, pre-order here.

Sneak Peek into Mystery of the Golden Shells

Mystery of the Golden Shells publishes this coming Monday, so I figured a short excerpt of the story might be fun.

Admittedly, I had a difficult time choosing this excerpt! With the various trails the story can take depending on a reader’s choices, it’s hard to pick a section that’s not going to give something away or confuse people for later. So I decided on an excerpt that happens early on in the story. Hope you enjoy!

Publication Date: August 15, 2022

Genre: Fantasy Adventure and Mystery (Multi-ending)

Lead In: You have just been given a two-part assignment to figure out who poisoned the Queen and find a mythical shell to heal her. While you’re on the ship that will take you to search for the shell, you get the chance to meet some of the suspects.

The Performer and the Storyteller 

You lower yourself down the companionway, being careful not to let your land legs trip you as the ship sways.

At the thud of your boots, a scrawny old man pops his head above the counter in the galley. He shoves a hand through his steel-gray hair and exclaims, “Jumping jugglers, another contestant!”

Since it’s not a question, you don’t respond.

He continues without noticing. “No matter. Mark my promise, Allen will win no matter how many contestants the King includes.”

He stands up holding three late-season mandarins, which he starts juggling, sending the fruits toward the beams above in a high arch. As he passes by, his long coat flutters, revealing the red, yellow, and green patches on his pants that cover gallon-deep pockets.

There’s a snort and you look back to find a dark haired gypsy woman scowling at the old man. She sips from a glass in her bejeweled fingers that gives off the faint whiff of rum. “Performing parrot, he always talks about himself in the third person. It’s disgraceful,” she says.

“Allen heard that,” hollers the old man.

“Patricia doesn’t care!” responds the woman.

Suddenly, a mandarin sails out of the darkness from the other end of the ship.

Patricia fumbles, sloshing her rum, but catches the fruit. She scowls even harder and crow’s feet fan out from the corners of her dark eyes.

You hear a telltale whoosh and another mandarin comes sailing your way. Snagging it, you drop it into a pocket for later.

Patricia peels her mandarin like she wanted it in the first place, dropping the slices into her drink.

“Storytelling is far more refined than what that trickster does,” she says. Then, taking your raised brow as agreement, she wanders away.

***

That’s it for today! If you’re interested in a signed copy of Mystery of the Golden Shells, hop over to the pre-order page here on the website and order before the 15th!

Blessings,

Jennifer

The Storyteller and the Help – A Mystery of the Golden Shells Story

Welcome to the fifth short story in this collection. These are fun little peeks into the background of Mystery of the Golden Shells, which comes out on August 15th. If you missed the first four stories, you can find them here: The Scribe and the Rug, The Dresser and the Color, The Shellfish and the Cook, and The Performer and the Faux Pas.

Or, as a brief recap: Marissa is the new Queen of the Capital. Since it was an arranged marriage, she’s been working hard to earn King Ashwin’s trust. Recently, a peace delegation arrived from the High Coast nation and Marissa has been trying to do her part to make the negotiations go well although cultural differences have made that interesting.

Now on to the next story!

The Storyteller and the Help – A Mystery of the Golden Shells Story

Marissa’s head ached. It’d been a long day and it wasn’t done yet. With dinner over, Ashwin invited the High Coast delegates to a quiet drawing room for coffee and dessert. They’d expressed a love of oral stories and he’d brought in the Capital’s best storyteller to finish off the evening.

As they sat and the servants poured the mugs, Marissa wrapped her fingers tight to the porcelain and breathed in the fragrant steam. Coffee was one of the few things the Capital did better than her beloved Sky Kingdom.

Lilianna, the female High Coast delegate, swayed her way over and delicately sat down beside Marissa on the couch.

“We love our storytellers back home,” Lilianna said. “They are like family to us. What is your storyteller’s name?”

Marissa’s head throbbed. She ducked her face, admitting, “I do not know. I have never met the woman.”

Shocked, Lilianna asked, “How then can you help with the story?”

Thankfully, a servant ushered in the storyteller in question before Marissa had to think of an answer.

The woman’s fingers flashed with jeweled rings as she gave a deep, flourished bow. Marissa couldn’t help but admire the dark braids that wound in circles about her head like a crown.

“Your Majesties and guests,” the storyteller greeted everyone in a low timbre, “I am Patricia Willard, the Capital’s best spinner of yarns.”

Lilianna clapped softly. “Oh, this should be delightful.”

Patricia flashed a smile and began, “Long ago—”

“How long?” asked Timmon, the senior High Coast delegate. He’d leaned forward and Marissa saw nothing but interest in his expression.

“Pardon?” Patricia asked.

“How long?”

The storyteller scowled. “We don’t have a date.”

“Ah, pre-kingdom then.” And Timmon leaned back. He meant, as far as Marissa knew, before the current borders were drawn on the map.

Hesitating, Patricia finally began again, “Long ago—”

“Pre-kingdom,” Timmon supplied.

Color climbed the storyteller’s neck. “If you insist. Before the kingdoms, there lived a boy—”

“How old?” This time it was Lilianna.

As Patricia’s eyes flashed, Marissa began to suspect what Lilianna meant by “help with the story.” As the Capital’s new queen, Marissa was coming to love its easier way of life with the less formal approach people took to each other, but at moments like this, that informality could cause severe consequences. She watched the storyteller’s neck, face, and then ears turning a bright scarlet and knew an outburst was brewing.

For the second time in the same evening, she shared a look with Ashwin, his eyes begging her to help.

“Oh, we forgot dessert,” Marissa burst out. “Dessert, anyone?”

Plate’s clinked as servants responded to her invitation, passing out slices of pineapple cake.

Patricia spun away to stare out the far window of the drawing room. Even from the couch, the tension in her shoulders stood out, clear as a red sky.

Marissa excused herself and approached the woman.

“Mrs. Willard,” Marissa said under her breath.

The storyteller twitched.

“They are not used to our culture, but they are our guests.”

Marissa’s throat tightened at the look that flashed in the storyteller’s eyes. “This is my profession. Should they not show respect in return?”

Marissa didn’t disagree but she hardened her tone. They didn’t have time to discuss the political dance at the moment. “In their culture, they are showing respect to you.”

Patricia glared and Marissa took another tact before she walked away. “We can also tell them you are ill and cut this evening short.” Then, before the woman could respond, Marissa walked back to the couch while resisting the urge to rub her temples.

Get through this evening, Marissa. They leave in the morning.

She hated drawing such a line for the storyteller. If word got out that the castle had cut short Patricia’s performance, others would hesitate to hire her. Marissa did not want to do that to two performers in one evening, but it would be better than ruining the peace agreements with the High Coast delegates.

As she sat down again, Ashwin walked by and brushed her shoulder with his fingers in a silent thank you, and some of the tension drained from Marissa.

The End

Thank you for stopping by! I hope you enjoyed the story. We have one more in this short story set to share, so we’ll be back next Thursday to finish the story before Mystery of the Golden Shells publishes on August 15th. Hope to see you then.

Blessings,

Jennifer

P.S Pre-orders are now open for Mystery of the Golden Shells. You can check that out here on the website.

Pre-orders Open!

This was supposed to post yesterday but something went wrong. So a day late, but here we go!

Obviously, pre-orders opened yesterday for Mystery of the Golden Shells! You can order here on the website.

And as a fun way to whet your appetite for the mystery adventure, here are a few more illustrations because, well, they’re just fun

Also, if you’ve missed out on the flash fiction background stories that have been posting for Golden Shells, you can read the first four stories at the links below. There are six of these flash pieces, so the last two will post over the next couple of Thursdays.

Blessings,

Jennifer

The Scribe and the RugThe Dresser and the ColorThe Shellfish and the CookThe Performer and the Faux Pas

The Performer and the Faux Pas – A Mystery of the Golden Shells Short Story

Welcome to the fourth short story in this collection. These are fun little peeks into the background of Mystery of the Golden Shells, which comes out on August 15th. If you missed the first three stories, you can find them here: The Scribe and the Rug, The Dresser and the Color, and The Shellfish and the Cook.

The Performer and the Faux Pas – A Mystery of the Golden Shells Short Story

Marissa kept the scarf over her face despite the stuffiness in the dining hall while she carefully lifted the scarf to sip at her water. No wine tonight, as one of the High Coast delegates stringently told them it would be insulting to be served any type of alcohol. Their negotiations for a peace deal had gone well. It was a simple matter to keep the peace.

Marissa winced as her glass touched her tender lips. After her bout with hives earlier in the day, her face still bore heavy red splotches and even the light touch hurt her skin.

She was sure the story had circulated through the castle, but it was easier to watch the performer tossing colorful balls than to notice the glances people kept shooting her. Even the High Coast delegation, two men and a woman with the green eyes common of their nation, sent sidelong looks down the table from their seats of honor on Ashwin’s far side.

Marissa stayed focused on the performer. He vaulted a chair someone had left too far out from the table and tossed one of his balls high into the air. As he landed, he held out his left leg and the ball dropped into a green-patched pocket on his thigh. For an older man, he was surprisingly agile.

His other two balls disappeared into various pockets and next he pulled a string of scarves from behind a woman’s hair. She giggled and her partner rolled his eyes.

“Did you hire him from a circus?” Vivian, the woman in the delegation, asked.

Marissa couldn’t tell if she was just curious or condescending, not without looking at her, but it sounded simply curious.

Ashwin gave a soft chuckle. “No, he’s a well-known performer who happened to be in town. My steward hired him to add variety to our evening.”

The woman hummed.

The performer came closer, his scarves whirling in a rainbow of blues and purples until he stood before the head table, close enough Marissa could smell him…and the liquor on his breath. At the same time, Ashwin grasped her hand below the table and she glanced over. He’d never looked to her for help in public before, but the look on his face now was clear.

Marissa just barely kept from glancing past him at their guests. She had to keep the performer from moving down the table, but how?

The performer suddenly reached out and snatched her scarf from her face. He probably intended to add it to his mix of blues and purples but Marissa caught his bony wrist before he could return to his performance.

She shot to her feet, still holding his arm. “How dare you!” she said, “I think we’ve seen enough from you.” And she snatched her scarf back. A gesture from Ashwin had two guards escorting the man away.

Marissa took the moment to replace her scarf, although at this point it didn’t matter, everyone had seen her. But to keep up her indignation, it seemed like the right thing to do.

“How very presumptuous of him,” Lilianna, the female delegate, muttered as conversation returned to the hall.

“Indeed,” Ashwin agreed. “We’ll have a storyteller later who might suit us all a bit better.”

He glanced at Marissa and winked as he spoke and, although he couldn’t see it, Marissa smiled, a flush warming her cheeks.

The End

Thanks for stopping by! I hope you’re enjoying these stories. We’ll post the fifth one next Thursday.

Blessings,

Jennifer

P.S. Pre-orders for Mystery of the Golden Shells will open this coming Monday, August 1st!

The Finer Details

I learn something new every single time I put a book together. You’d think I’d reach a point where the process is routine, but so far there’s always some little detail that’s just waiting to surprise me.

As I’ve said before, I try to share each time I learn something because without others sharing their knowledge, I never would have figured out the book formatting process.

This little tidbit didn’t pop up while formatting Golden Shells, but while I was fixing the Kindle formatting for The Adventure and Discarded Dragons.

Extra Claw

I had the manuscript put together and it looked great. But when I uploaded it to KDP and scrolled through the previewer, I noticed several random ghost images that were not showing in my Word document.

This left me scratching my head. Those ghost images were hiding in there somewhere. After checking everything my husband and I could think of, he finally suggested I shift the manuscript from Print layout to Web layout. (Again, this is a Word document I’m working with.) Seems silly, but it worked. All of a sudden I could see the random extra images hiding in the manuscript.

So there’s my formatting tip. If you’re getting ghost images in your manuscript, try the Web layout. Obviously, after deleting the extras, you have to return to Print layout to make sure you didn’t mess anything up in the margins and such, but at least you can find those pesky ghost images.

Blessings,

Jennifer

P.S. As you probably already know, Mystery of the Golden Shells will publish on August 15. Pre-orders open this coming Monday, August 1st. The Kindle version of the book won’t be far behind the physical publication

The Shellfish and the Cook – A Mystery of the Golden Shells Story

This is the third short story in this collection. These are fun little peeks into the background of Mystery of the Golden Shells, which comes out on August 15th. If you missed the first two stories, you can find them here: The Scribe and the Rug and The Dresser and the Color. (You don’t have to read the other stories to understand this one, but it does help on some of the details.)

Otherwise, let’s jump into the next peek

The Shellfish and the Cook – A Mystery of the Golden Shells Story

Stay open-minded, Marissa. They’re trying.

The pep talk did not make the plate of noodles and sauce in front of her look any more appetizing. Since the Capital was a coastal city, the main staple happened to be fish. Marissa had thought she liked fish until moving here but half the time they set a plate in front of her, she couldn’t even tell what kind of fish she was eating.

Like this plate. The noodles were long and thin. No problem there. They were just noodles. But the white sauce harbored small chunks of pink fish peeking out that looked almost raw. And the smell. There was a sharp stink to the steaming plate.

But she’d come down to the kitchens midday and had asked for a snack outside of the cook’s regular schedule. They’d been kind enough to provide a plate.

The young, white haired cook shot an inquisitive smile over her shoulder from where she stood stirring the stew for the evening meal. She was probably wondering if her queen approved of her snack.

Her queen hadn’t even tasted it yet and it’d been five minutes according to the water clock over the mantle.

Just try it.

She clutched her fork and twirled the noodles onto the tines, being sure to skewer a few of the suspicious fish pieces on the end before taking the bite.

It was…surprisingly good.

The sauce coated her tongue, leaving a mixture of garlic and butter flavor behind after she swallowed. There was something else too but she couldn’t place it as she took another bite.

The noodles tried to stick in her throat but she managed to get them down.

It was on the third bite that she realized her skin was starting to burn. It started around her lips and she brought a hand up to her mouth to find large lumps.

“Your Majesty!” someone exclaimed.

She looked up and blinked, finding the skin around her eyes beginning to infringe on her sight like when she’d hit her cheekbone as a child and the swelling slowly covered half her eye.

Did I just eat shellfish? She wondered. Her father was allergic, but she’d never tried shellfish herself to find out if she shared the allergy.

“Shafsh,” she slurred, trying to say something to Robert, Ashwin’s steward, as he appeared beside her.

“Call for the physician!” he shouted. “Who gave her this?”

Marissa focused in on the white-haired cook as the steward asked. Unable to speak, she simply pointed and the girl gasped.

Robert threw his cloak around Marissa’s shoulders and ushered her out of the kitchens. “Bring the girl for questioning,” he hollered over his shoulder.

“Am I under arrest?” The girl sounded scared and Marissa wanted to reassure her.

“That’ll be up to the King,” Robert answered.

Ashwin! Marissa forgot about the cook as she realized how she must look. She didn’t follow the rest of the cook’s words as all she could think was, please don’t let Ashwin see me like this.

The End

Thank you for stopping by. I hope you enjoyed the story! We’ll return next week with the fourth story in this collection.

Until then, blessings,

Jennifer

P.S. Pre-orders for Mystery of the Golden Shells will open on August 1st.

Just Because It’s Exciting

I know I’ve said it before, but publishing isn’t a solitary thing. It can’t be, especially for me. You see, if I tried to illustrate an adventure book you’d end up getting stick figures and smiley faces.

And with so much of the writing process happening inside the writer’s head, it can be hard to shift away from the writing and into the publishing aspect. But I also find this part of the process incredibly exciting, especially as the illustrator starts to produce images for the book. There’s something incredibly amazing about seeing an artist create illustrations solely based on the story you’ve written.

I geek out every time.

So, this time around with Mystery of the Golden Shells, I’m working with the same artist who designed the covers for Quaking Soul and Discarded Dragons. Justin also illustrated Temple of Night and Wind, which is the second story in The Adventure. Needless to say, I’ve worked with him a lot over the last several years and I knew going in that his artwork is exactly what I wanted for Golden Shells. 

And as I see the book in its printed form, I can’t but be amazed at how beautifully the illustrations turned out.

So without further ado, here are a couple of illustrations from Mystery of the Golden Shells. I think they speak for themselves

Blessings,

Jennifer

P.S. Preorders will be available starting August 1st!

The Dresser and the Color – A Mystery of the Golden Shells Story

Last week I posted the first short story in this collection. These are fun little peeks into the background of Mystery of the Golden Shells, which comes out on August 15th. If you missed the first story, you can find it here: The Scribe and the Rug.

Otherwise, here’s the next suspect.

The Dresser and the Color – A Mystery of the Golden Shells Story

It was a night for blue. Banners fluttered their deep cobalt in the halls in honor of the High Coast delegation and Marissa’s dress sparkled with gems on a midnight background, imitating a star-filled sky.

Unfortunately, Ashwin wouldn’t be able to fully appreciate the beautiful color as he was blue-green blind but she still felt lovely and excitement bubbled in her belly.

If you’re patient, you can become his queen in more than name. Her father had told her when he’d announced her arranged marriage to King Ashwin of the Capital Kingdom. She hadn’t disliked the arrangement, in fact she’d suggested it as it brought peace between her own Sky Kingdom and the Capital, but she also hadn’t known King Ashwin either, and her initial meeting with him had been…chilly.

But now, after months of being patient, of trying to help in whatever way he allowed, Ashwin had asked her to accompany him to greet the High Coast delegation. It indicated a new level of trust from her husband king and her stomach kept flipping in its own dance of victory. Her steps whispered on the runner as she approached Ashwin’s dressing room.

The guards didn’t object when she raised a hand to knock, another improvement since the early days in the castle.

A muffled, “Enter,” came from beyond the door and a guard—Elend she thought his name was—pushed open the heavy door for her, giving a slight bow as she passed.

She found Ashwin standing on a small dressing stool with his back to the door while Marius Jack, his new manservant, worked to polish one toe of his black leather boots.

“You’ll make a strong statement in this outfit, your majesty,” Marius Jack finished with the boot and Ashwin stepped down to greet Marissa.

As he turned, a tentative smile on his face, the blood rushed from Marissa’s cheeks and Ashwin’s smile vanished, turning into the indifferent mask she’d first met at their arranged marriage.

Her heart stuttered. She hated that mask and in its chill expression, she saw all of her patient work fly out the window.

Do something, idiot! She scolded herself.

But when she opened her mouth, instead of reassuring Ashwin, an incredulous question fell from her lips.

“Are you trying to start a war?”

Ashwin’s mask dissolved into anger and Marissa’s stomach rolled, threatening to be sick, but before he could respond or her stomach betrayed her, Marissa pointed at his chest and nailed Marius Jack with a look. “That’s green! That’s forest green!”

The young dresser smoothed his hands down his doublet, stuttering, “Isn’t—isn’t he dashing?”

“NO…yes!” Marissa threw up her hands at the wash of emotions running through her, and the embarrassment now on her husband’s face. With a sinking sensation, she realized Marius Jack might not know about Ashwin’s blue-green confusion and she’d just thrown it around without a care.

I’m being a terrible partner!

“Out!” she said, pointing at the door and drawing Marius Jack’s attention away from Ashwin’s outfit. The dresser’s face turned white at her glare.

“What did I do?” he asked.

“I don’t like it. Out!”

He ducked his head and left. She’d have to apologize to him later or he’d fear for his position. He’d stepped in when Ashwin desperately needed a manservant, but at the moment, she was more concerned with the realization clear in her husband king’s eyes. No way would she make a bigger deal out of his blindness and ruin any chance of actually working with him as his counterpart. If Marius Jack remembered anything about this encounter, it’d be her rudeness.

As the door clicked shut, Ashwin asked, “Forest green?”

“Aye, Husband, forest green.”

“Low Ridge color?”

She didn’t have to answer. The shaking in Ashwin’s hands as he moved to remove the shirt told her he understood.

Low Ridge and High Coast were at war. Had been for eight months. To show up in the color of one while meeting the peace delegation of the other would have ended discussions before they even began.

Managing to remove the offending shirt, Ashwin held out a hand toward her, “Help me match your dress?” he asked.

Marissa smiled, ignoring the flush on her face and the lump in her throat as she moved to take his hand.

The End

Thanks for stopping by! I hope you enjoyed the story. We have four more of these leading up to publication, so next Thursday will see the next story. Hope to see you then

Blessings,

Jennifer

P.S. Pre-orders for Mystery of the Golden Shells will open on August 1st.

Never Enough Thanks

Last year I titled this post Never a Solo Project. I waxed on about how important editors are and how valuable it is to find an editor you enjoy working with and who understands your vision for a book.

None of that has changed. In fact, every time I work with an editor on a book, I come away valuing his or her work all the more. Unlike Discarded Dragons, Mystery of the Golden Shells has been a challenge to write. Although it’s only 10 endings instead of 12, it’s more complicated and required more careful planning. And despite all that planning and careful precision, the manuscript needed more polishing by the time it reached the editor.

Thankfully, my editor still shares in my vision and makes the process a lot less painful than it could be. (At least I feel like he shares my vision. If he doesn’t, he hides it well and saves my fragile emotions!)

So this is a thank you to Darren Thornberry for his magnificent work on Mystery of the Golden Shells. If you have an editor, thank them. They don’t receive enough recognition for all the hard work they do!

Blessings,

Jennifer

Check out Darren’s website here – Darren Thornberry