Tag: alternate world fantasy

Work-In-Progress Wednesdays #29

Ariel Paiement

This week, I’ve got an excerpt from Unseen, a short story I’m working on for the short story collection I’m hoping to release in 2021. Yes, I know that’s a long way off. But I want a headstart on things because I have so much on my plate. Anyway, Unseen connects most obviously to Revelar’s Queen, though it also connects to In Darkness Lost in a roundabout way and to Leap of Faith, which will be in the anthology Glimpses of Time and Magic, an anthology myself and author Joanna White are compiling with a group of other authors.

~~~

Saeread blinked. Her ears popped, and voices pressed in on every side. But the only one she really heard was the smooth baritone of the young man with the glowing amber eyes. Those molten pools pierced into her and held her in place while his silken voice lured her like a moth to a flame. She jolted into a ramrod straight position on her throne and stared at him. In the back of her mind, something nagged at her about this man, this ambassador from Ireland. But she brushed it away the next instant and smiled warmly before allowing herself to sink back against the cushioned seat. “It is wonderful to have you here, Ambassador. I trust you found the young woman I sent to your master’s court pleasant?”

He grinned. “Very affable, mi’lady.”

She nodded. “And your accommodations here?”

“More than generous, truth be told. I have been received far more warmly than I had anticipated.”

She laughed. “What did you expect, sir?”

“Certainly not a woman of such ravishing beauty and wit. And certainly not the warmth with which I have been greeted.” He bowed with a smile. “After all, you didn’t have to stoop as low as to notice an unworthy descendant of the Unseelie. In the fae world, we are the least of the least, after all.”

She grimaced. “Sarcasm doesn’t befit you, I think, Ambassador.”

He lifted his head. “Then if I may be so bold, mi’lady, it’s Ansiel, not Ambassador.”

She rolled the sounds around in her head. Ahnshiel. It was a nice name. But she shouldn’t encourage such a public display of forwardness. “An ambassador is what you are, and so you shall be respected as such when in formal settings.”

A gleam entered his bright gaze. “And might there be an occasion for an informal setting?”

She crossed her arms with a smirk. “Around here, Ambassador, we have more than our share of informal settings. I am certain you will run across more than a few if you remain this charming.”

He ducked his head. “I have offended already. Forgive me, mi’lady. On occasion, I forget myself and am, as a result, too blunt.”

“Honesty isn’t a bad thing.”

“Only when it is presented to those it could most benefit. For I fear, they are the least happy to hear it.”

“Perhaps.” She cocked her head to the side. “You’re a strange one, Ambassador Ansiel.”

He smiled at her, and it held a subtle, feral note to it. How odd he was! But, he was King Feread’s chosen liaison, and she couldn’t turn him away, so she ignored the strangeness of his behaviors and the smile he now bestowed upon her. His grin widened when he saw she wouldn’t remark on it. “If I may, mi’lady, I wish to retire to my chambers. I find myself more worn than I anticipated.”

She stifled a laugh at how formal he made everything sound and gave him a brief nod. “Do as you like. A servant will fetch you later. I wish to dine with you and speak with you of the state of matters for King Feread’s court. It has been some time since he and I last spoke.”

There was that curious glint again. It was almost as if he was mocking her, but she didn’t know what the misstep was. More than likely, she was being to sensitive. She brushed it off and watched him go with a soft sigh. There would be time enough to figure him out later. For now, there wasn’t a point to giving herself a headache in trying.

~~~

That’s if for me this week, everyone! What are you guys up to? Anything interesting? Feel free to share about your projects in the comments below!

Work-In-Progress Wednesday #26

Ariel Paiement

NaNoWriMo is in full swing now, and I’ve been getting lots done on my current works-in-progress. This year’s NaNo has been different than the last time I did one a few years back. This time, I’m focusing more on reaching the word count goal of 50,000 and less on achieving it with one work. Since I have so much going on right now, starting a new novel entirely didn’t make sense, so I’ve been working on Pathway of the Moon, Trader Prince of Aleshtain, and the collection of short stories I want to have out in 2021. So it’s a bit of a nontraditional approach, but hey, nothing wrong with that!

This week’s work-in-progress comes from Pathway of the Moon. I’m currently on chapter 49 of 60. I’ve written roughly three and a half chapters in the last seven days thanks to NaNoWriMo and not being able to work my second job thanks to injuring my foot. So that’s where life is at right now. I’m about forty percent of the way done with my NaNo challenge though!

Now, on to the piece for this week. It’s from the last chapter I wrote.

~~~

LEO opened the door to their room and stopped. King Faolrian turned away from the window and greeted him with a warm smile. Leo hooked his thumbs into his pockets and shuffled inside, nudging the door shut with his toe. “Sire? To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Faolrian smiled. “I’m not here on any official business. Not exactly, anyway. How are you settling in?”

Leo let out a soft sigh. So he wasn’t in trouble. Good. “I’m settling in fine. The accommodations are much nicer than I’m used to. I appreciate your generosity.”

“Any headway with that journal you were given?”

Leo glanced at the book where it lay on his bed. “Depends on what you mean by headway. The prophecies aren’t the easiest to understand at times. But I’m working on it.”

“You can understand it without a translator?”

“My father made sure I was versed in the original dialect of Wyrdhan, specifically the prophecy case. It was expected that every leader in the… Well, anyway, you know.”

The king smiled. “You shouldn’t be ashamed of your past. You didn’t choose it, Leo.”

Leo grimaced and walked into the room. He picked up the diary from its spot on the bed. “Why wouldn’t I be ashamed? I was affiliated with a cult that wanted to destroy the country I love.”

“That’s exactly why you shouldn’t be ashamed. You love this country. And your love for this country, your loyalty to it, led you to leave the people who wanted to destroy it no matter the cost. I think that’s admirable.”

“You’re the only one who will think that.”

“Actually, I’m not. The nobility, on the whole, quite like you. They’ve been asking when you’ll start making appearances.”

Leo cracked a smile. “They should remember my reluctance to socialize back when I was just a Duke with a title I had to buy.”

Faolrian laughed. “Some do. They were surprised to discover you were so instrumental in defeating Kiarhsu’s cult. In fact, rumors are now going around that you were in the war between the Aleshtainians and our men on the borders, and that’s where you gained the money to buy your title.”

Leo blinked. “Where did that idea come from?”

The king shrugged. “I didn’t make it up. But off the record, I think the spymaster may have let it slip that you were a highly decorated captain out there.”

“A highly decorated… What?” Leo groaned. “Sire, do you have any idea the social nightmare you’ve managed to start for me?”

Faolrian clapped him on the back. “Nonsense! You’re a highly decorated war hero. Brings a great deal of respect. They’re even saying you single-handedly negotiated for the release of some of our soldiers.”

“Anything else I should know about that they’re saying?”

“I think that’s all for now, but you know these stories. They grow. You’d better figure out your official story to avoid any problems. I think you learned that lesson well enough previously though.”

Leo laughed in spite of himself. Not figuring out a story ahead of time was the very reason he had gotten into so much trouble in the first place. He’d certainly learned his lesson. “That I did.”

Faolrian headed for the door then paused and turned back. “Just two more things, Leo. First, don’t keep that woman of yours waiting too long. I’ve seen how you look at each other, and you don’t want to miss your chance.”

The tips of his ears heated.

“And secondly, I need you to see if that book of yours says anything at all about the Pathway.”

“The Pathway? What am I looking for?”

“The Pathway doesn’t work.”

Leo stared at him, baffled. “But something came through it.”

“Something did. But we aren’t able to pass through to their side of the Path. Anything you can find out would be helpful.”

Leo nodded, a frown furrowing his brow. Why would the Path only work one way? “I’ll be working on it, then, Sire.”

The king nodded and left the room, shutting the door quietly behind him. Leo stared at the wooden door. Had the book ever said anything about the Path? He couldn’t be sure since he hadn’t finished the entire thing. But it just didn’t make sense. If one side could be used, theirs should be working too. He’d opened it just as the prophecy had claimed he would. So what was going on?

~~~

That’s it from my end, everyone! What have you guys been working on? Anyone else doing NaNoWriMo? If so, let me know how it’s going in the comments! I’d love to hear about what you all have started.

Flash Fiction Fridays – Hear Him Thunder

Ariel Paiement1 Comment

This week’s flash fiction is from a universe that hasn’t shown up in any of my official work yet. It may or may not ever do so, but it is connected to Revelar’s Queen in an interesting way. The connection between this world and the occupants of the location being terrorized by the villain in this piece was the result of an exercise in Holly Lisle’s Build a World Clinic ebook. If you’re interested in learning how to world-build what you need as you go along in a sane, organized fashion, I highly recommend it!

~~~

ENLIL rose into the sky, the sparks dancing around him and the winds picking up. He opened his mouth in a soundless scream of triumph, spread his arms and unleashed the storm inside. They thought they could beat him down? They thought that because he was of a lower class than they were that they could treat him like scum? Well, they’d learn. Because this so-called slave was their downfall, the perfect storm to bring reform. She was his, and they had denied him to her simply because he didn’t look like the one they thought she was pledged to. 

Lightning arced out of his fingertips, and the thunderheads blew from his mouth as he howled his victory. Below, houses went up in flames, and torrents of rain washed away whatever the flames didn’t touch. Then the rain put out the flames in the other areas too, and everything was enveloped in a maelstrom of wind, rain, and lightning with the thunder booming over it to provide the final beat on the drum that announced that death had come. 

He stretched his arms out further, tipped his head back and laughed into the sky. This was power. This was freedom. They would learn, and they would suffer just as everyone they had touched with their corruption had. Just as he had. This storm, he himself, were only the beginning. The beginning of devastation.

Only his betrothed would escape. But if she scorned him? His fingers twitched, shooting off more sparks and another bolt of lightning. If she scorned him, he would make her suffer more than all of her subjects. She had no right to refuse destiny, no right to look down on him because fate hadn’t chosen a more worthy object for her affection. So, if she thought him unworthy, he would show her how wrong she was. The vessel that housed him might be a slave, but he was no slave. He was far more ancient and powerful than any of them. He was storm. He was thunder. And he was destruction incarnate. He would have his way.

They would hear him thunder, and they would regret awakening his wrath.

~~~

That’s it for this week! I hope you all enjoyed. Have something you’d like to see in this section of the blog? Leave me a comment or shoot me an email! I’m always open to suggestions.

Work-In-Progress Wednesdays #25

Ariel Paiement

This week, I have an excerpt from a new short story I’m working on for a collection of stories I’m hoping to release in early 2021. The story, Revelar’s Queen, is about a fae serving girl and the Unseelie King. In this story, the Unseelie King is just the name that Earthlings gave to a being from another world, the ones–since one king didn’t survive from the earliest Earth tales of the Seelie and Unseelie up to modern times–who gave rise to the legends of the Unseelie in the first place.

~~~

AISLING wandered the barren halls in a stupor. How had the glorious, awe-inspiring halls of Queen Sairead’s court become like this? Paint-chipped walls and stained carpets, threadbare shades and broken windows. The chandeliers hung dun in their places, and the candelabras had fallen from the walls. In places, the stone even showed through the ruined drywall that had been put up back when it first became an accepted way to build walls. 

She didn’t know this place. Up above, a rafter creaked. She darted forward, narrowly avoiding a beam that had broken loose, bringing an entire section of the roof and the plastering down behind her. She choked on the dust and spun to look at the way back. Blocked. She didn’t even know for certain where she was anymore. This part of the mansion was from the adjoining castle, and it was much, much older. Still, it hadn’t looked like this, and she bit her lip. Should she really continue onward in light of the roof’s clear instability?

Her shoulders slumped. What choice was there? She couldn’t move the rubble now blocking the way out, and she knew no one was in this wing. She wasn’t supposed to be in this wing either, really. But she’d come in here for a place away from the bustle and chaos that was Midsummer’s Festival preparations. A broom closet would’ve been the safer option, evidently.

A set of doors loomed up ahead, the gold gilding on them lackluster and the paint peeling. How long had it been since anyone was in here? No one who was allowed her had talked of this place as an abandoned wreck. They all said it was a quiet, peaceful place meant only for the Queen and her closest advisers.

She approached the doors with careful steps and tried not to make noise as she cracked the doors open. A tiny squeak emitted from the hinges, and she cringed. Stupid. Of course it would creak! Things this old and in such a state of disrepair would make noise when opened. She stiffened and listened for a long moment, but no one moved to accost her or shouted in alarm.

The tension in her shoulders eased, and she released a low, slow sigh. She ran her fingers over the flaking gold and touched the ruined paint. Did she even want to know what was behind them? Did it matter? The hair on the back of her neck stood up, and her entire body tingled. Whatever was behind this door, it would change her life forever. She was certain of that. That thought alone sent a tremor through her. She could still turn around.

But where would she go? The way out was blocked, and no one knew she was here. Better to keep looking for another exit. She pressed her palm to the door and cracked it open just a bit more before peeking inside.

There was a man crouched in the center of the room. She stiffened, her whole body trembling. Why hadn’t he said anything when she first opened the doors? He had to know she was here. And who was he? One of the Queen’s councilors? Another intruder? The last didn’t seem likely. Who would wish to intrude here where there was nothing worth stealing and the roof could cave in at a moment’s notice?

He had his gaze fixed on her and the door, and his uncanny citrine eyes stayed on her even as she backed away from the door. She pressed a hand to her breast, wishing it could still her racing heart. Should she run? Or would it be best to simply admit that she’d been breaking the rules and misbehaving? Maybe if she owned up to it, her punishment would be lighter. After all, if she told him the truth, that she wandered in here just for a moment of peace and quiet, he might be more understanding.

But understanding was the last thing in those eyes, which were still trained on the door and seemed to pierce through to her soul. She swallowed hard and turned to go.

“Going so soon?”

She turned, both startled and enamored by the velvet-and-silk voice that filled the room and spilled out to the hall where she stood. Still, she wasn’t going to walk in there. She took another good look at the man and the room where he was now standing instead of crouching.

He watched her stare from beneath dark lashes, which made his citrine irises more startling still. His clothing was immaculate, unlike the rest of the room, which seemed to be some sort of ballroom. He wore a tailored suit and nicely polished boots. A little behind the times with the boots and the suit’s cut, but then, members of the Queen’s court often dressed as if they were in the nineteenth century. Unlike the other members of the court, though, he possessed a feral look. His hair was unkempt, and his smile was razor sharp. She shivered and looked away from him to the rest of the room. Why did he both terrify and excite her?

The floor around him was dusty, and the light coming through the dingy window just behind him cast the edge of some kind of platform into sharp relief against the floor. Yet, somehow, he didn’t cast a shadow. In that room of decay and despair, he fit in but also stood apart. His wild hair indicated a carelessness that the room’s occupants reflected in letting the curtains be eaten by moths and time unheeded, but his clothes were immaculate. An enigma in every way, even if he did appear to be somewhat at home in the otherwise empty room.

She cracked the door a little more and peered past him at the strange crack in the wall that was emitting an unearthly glow. What could it be? Some sort of portal, maybe? It didn’t look safe, whatever it was. She couldn’t see past the light no matter how hard she strained, but she caught some chords of an ethereal, haunted melody drifting through the room to where she was standing.

“Will you hide there all day, daughter of shadows?”

She bit her lip, ignored the strange rush of warmth his sultry voice sent through her and shook her head. Something about this was wrong. She backed away from the door again, determined to run this time. He never gave her the chance. The second she turned her back, hard fingers dug into her waist, pulled her back and held her still. How dare he do this? She squirmed and kicked at his shins, but it didn’t achieve anything. It only made him laugh, a rich sound that sent a shiver down her spine.

Aesling frowned and struggled more, but he only pinned her to the wall and gripped her chin in his firm, hard fingers. “You want out of here, yes?”

She nodded, relaxed and hoped he’d loosen his grip. He didn’t. But he also didn’t tighten it to the point that it inflicted pain. 

“What if I’m the only way out?”

As if she’d believe that. She eyed his belt, looking for any weapon she could use. Only one presented itself, and she knew with one glance that it wasn’t an option. The single blade, unsheathed and tucked through a belt loop, could be a way to free herself, but she couldn’t bring herself to touch it. It whispered to her of arcane things and darkness, of the Seelie and the Unseelie, and worst of all, of war and disaster. She let out a muted cry and wrenched her gaze away, only to meet the stranger’s yellow gaze again.

He gave her another of his feral grins and leans in closer. “I asked a question, and I expect an answer, please. What if I’m the only way out of here?”

“How can that be possible?”

“Look around you, little one. Do you see a luxurious castle with multiple entrances and exits for the servants like yourself?”

She glared at him. “I fail to see how that’s important. Just what are you driving at?”

He laughed. “That if you want to escape this cursed mansion where everything is dying along with your Queen’s power, you’ll come with me.” He leaned closer and ran his mouth along the curve of her ear. “It’s a simple choice. Starve to death here or take a single sip from my cup.”

~~~

That’s it for this week’s Work-In-Progress Wednesday, everyone! I hope you all enjoyed it. Have something you’re working on? Nanowrimo is under way for the month of November now, and this is part of the project I’m hoping to complete for it. Do any of you have a project for this year? If so, feel free to share about it in the comments!

Flash Fiction Fridays – Unseelie

Ariel Paiement

This one is a bit of a one off from a world-building exercise I did. I’ll probably be writing a post about the method I used in a Thursday Technicalities, but that might be a bit in coming. I’m undecided on whether or not I’ll make a short story or novel out of this flash fiction, but we’ll see. Here you are!

~~~

I touch the flaking paint and peeling gold gilding of the doors, almost afraid of what might be behind them. But I also know it could be the only way out of here. I can’t go back down the dimly lit corridor I followed here, after all. So, I swallow the fear and press the door open just a crack, just enough to peek through.

The first thing I see is the man at the center of the room. The room itself is in shambles and looks to be empty aside from him. No noise is made, and I am certain I gave no indication of my presence. The door hinges didn’t make any noise earlier. But he knows I am here. He watches me from beneath long lashes, his irises a startling citrine. His clothing is immaculate, unlike the rest of the ballroom. A tailored suit and waistcoat with nice shoes. But his hair is unruly, giving him a wild look. And then he smiles at me, and I shiver. Out of fear or anticipation, I can’t say. Something about him both terrifies and warms me. 

The floor around him is dusty, and the light coming through the dingy window just behind him casts the edge of some kind of platform into sharp relief against the floor. Yet, somehow, he doesn’t cast a shadow. In that room of decay and despair, he fits in but also stands apart. His wild hair indicates a carelessness that the room’s occupants reflected in letting the curtains be eaten by moths and time unheeded, but his clothes are immaculate. An enigma in every way, even if he did appear to be somewhat at home in the otherwise empty room.

I crack the door a little more and peer past him at the strange crack in the wall that’s emitting an unearthly glow. What could it be? Some sort of portal, maybe? It doesn’t look safe, whatever it is. I can’t see past the light no matter how hard I strain, but I catch some chords of an ethereal, haunted melody drifting through the room to where I’m standing.

“Will you hide there all day, daughter of the shadows?” His voice is silky and sultry, meant entirely to charm.

I shiver and shake my head, backing away from the door. Something about this feels wrong. I never get the chance to run. He has me in his grasp the second I turn away from the doors, determined to find another way. His musk and pine scent envelops me, both soothing and frightening at the same time. How is that even possible?

I struggle against his grip, but he easily pins me to the wall just outside the dimly-lit ballroom.

“You want out of here, yes?”

I nod, go limp and hope he’ll loosen his grip. He doesn’t.

“What if I’m the only way?”

My gaze drops to his belt, searching for any way I might fend him off. His belt holds a single blade, unsheathed and tucked through a loop. But one look tells me all I need to know. I won’t touch it. It whispers to me of arcane things and darkness, of the Seelie and the Unseelie, and worst of all, of war and disaster. Shuddering, I look away. It gives no sign that it might harm its owner or even me, but something about it is simply unsettling.

The man gives me a feral grin. “I asked a question. What if I am your only escape?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“That if you want to escape this cursed mansion, you will have to come to me.” He leans closer until his lips brush the shell of my ear. “It’s a simple choice. Die here or take just a single sip from my cup.”

“Your cup?” I peer at the wall across from us as if it might contain answers and try not to notice how closely his body presses against mine. 

“I left it in the ballroom when I came to fetch you.” He pulls away and grabs my wrist, tugging me through the doors. “You can either drink from it or starve to death in this place.”

“Why isn’t there an escape?”

His grip tightens. “Because of fate. Or because of whatever it is that will make you feel better about what is going to happen.”

My gut clenches. I stare at the object that is resting under the unfiltered brilliance of the strange crack in the wall. An odd liquid that looks silver in nature swirls about in the cup. “You want me to drink that? It looks like it might kill me.”

He forces me to my knees before kneeling beside me. “It won’t. Just one sip. One tiny sip, and you’ll be freed.”

I reach out and pick up the cool metal cup. “Just one?”

“Just one.”

Sucking in a deep breath, I lift the cup to my lips and take a tiny sip of the liquid. At first, a sweet and spicy tang fills my mouth. Then the bitterness hits, and I gag, choking on what I swallowed. It burns all the way down my throat and sets a fire in my belly. The warmth isn’t unpleasant, but I don’t like it all the same. “What is this stuff?”

He gives me a mysterious smile, and the liquid in the cup begins to change to gas, billowing out of the cup and flowing over me. It seeps into my pores and invades my nose, drying my throat and leaving the same cloying taste of sweet, spicy, and bitter on my tongue. “W-what have you done?”

He laughed and laced his fingers through mine as every nerve in my body burned and ached. “Made you mine.”

~~~

That’s it for this post, everyone! If you have something you’d like to see for future Flash Fiction Fridays, feel free to leave the suggestion in the comments below!

Shifter – A Lesson In Story Building

Ariel Paiement

It’s been quite a while since I’ve done a review on here. In fact, I haven’t done one since the first one I did for Hunter by Joanna White. (If you haven’t read that yet, you can read it here.)

As with the review of Hunter, I’m going to split my review into two sections. The first is intended for my readers who simply want a new book to read. If you’re not interested in spoilers or seeing the craft in the book picked apart to learn from it, then this first review is for you! However, if you’re interested as a writer trying to learn what works well in writing (or what doesn’t in some cases with books), the second review is for you.

Let’s get started!

Reader’s Review

As a reader, I’ll be honest in saying that I enjoyed Hunter more. That said, I did eventually get into Shifter, and I really enjoyed it once I did. It just took me a bit. Part of the problem for me, personally, was that I was so attached to Jared and Averella from Hunter that I wasn’t really ready for a move to a new set of characters or a new ship. That said, I believe that Joanna has since published a short story, Sightless, that helps to give a bit more final ending to Jared and Averella’s story, at least for the time being. Had I read this before Shifter, I may have had an easier time transitioning. 

That said, I did enjoy the book. It made me smile, laugh, and cry. I’m not a big crier usually, so the fact that the book could make me cry is a good indication that it really got me invested in the characters. The struggles the characters went through really resonated with me, and I was rooting for them the whole way. I don’t want to spoil anything for anyone, but I will say that I thoroughly enjoyed the action scenes, the entire premise of different kinds of shifters, and the way she moved through the book. The plot took a variety of twists and turns that I didn’t expect, and the end was definitely no exception.

The end wasn’t my favorite. Be warned ahead of time that it’s a bit bittersweet. It definitely made me sad. I wouldn’t say it spoiled the book for me because there was clear evidence that it was only the beginning of a bigger story, but it took a while for me to accept how it ended. Then again, if a book can pull at your heartstrings enough to make you feel pain, joy, or anger, the author has done their job well. Assuming they’ve elicited the emotional response they were going for, that is! I feel the author knew what she was doing and wrote the ending the way she did intentionally, so I don’t feel it really took away from the book.

Overall, I would definitely recommend this to people who enjoyed Hunter or who are just looking for clean fantasy to read. As a bonus for those who are Christian, the book does have strong Christian ethical themes and a morally solid message. If you’re looking for that, this won’t disappoint there. Even if you aren’t, the story is still an enjoyable read.

Writer’s Review

**Spoiler Alert: If you want to read this book before you pick it apart to learn how to improve your own writing or if you just want to read the book for sheer enjoyment, do not read any further! Read the book first and then read this or just don’t read this at all. That said, if you aren’t intending to read the book, already have, or don’t care about spoilers, welcome to the section for those of you looking to learn more about the craft!**

So, Shifter had some interesting things in it that never showed up in Hunter. I wasn’t really expecting them, to be honest. I’d read other stuff by Joanna, but apparently, I hadn’t read anything that had these elements prior to reading Shifter. So, I have a few interesting points to pick out for you all today!

Languages

The first really big thing I noticed in Shifter that wasn’t present in Hunter was the use of another language. In Shifter, Joanna builds her own language for the Shifter clans (mostly for the dragon Shifters). This was entirely unexpected, frankly. She’s put awesome bits of world-building into her work before, but, as I said, there were elements I hadn’t seen before, and this was one of them.

This one was a bit of both positive and negative for me. On the positive side, I absolutely loved the level of realism it lent to the story. I mean, we have multiple languages in real life, so why not in fantasy on another planet? I appreciated that Joanna took the time to create a very consistent-sounding language to incorporate. She gave the words life and meaning, and she used similar or common sounds to help make the words feel like they could be part of a real language. This is a technique that I noted was useful in my post on building languages on Saturday Setups.

But here’s the negative side of it. The words’ sounds weren’t intuitive. This made it difficult to decide how a name or a word ought to be pronounced. Now, I know that as writers, we have to give our readers some creative license. We have to understand that readers won’t pronounce things like we do all the time. But the hope is they can get close. For Shifter, it took me over half the book to even get close to remember how different letter combinations should sound.

In Joanna’s favor, though, was the fact that she did have a main character who didn’t know the language. So, the male lead, Beroan, had to explain how things were pronounced and tell Nsi, our female lead, how to say words or what those words meant. This helped alleviate some of the frustration of not knowing how to pronounce the sometimes odd combinations of letters. I did appreciate that.

On the whole, I would say that this technique is one to use carefully. As you can see, Joanna’s use of it had some downsides but also some upsides. I don’t think she made a poor choice to include it, but when she built it, she might have, in hindsight, wanted to make the words a little more reader-friendly.

So that’s something all of us should keep in mind if we choose to create languages to become a part of the world-building. Use combinations of sounds that the reader can at least guess at. Use pronunciations that readers can get close to by looking at the word.

And if you aren’t going to do that, provide a glossary in the back with the foreign-sounding words and their meanings so that readers who might be bugged by this can have a guide to look at. (Trust me… As a reader who can get frustrated by an inability to figure out a pronunciation, a pronunciation and meaning guide is something I greatly appreciate.)

Ending With a Bang

Okay, so I understand why Joanna wrote the ending the way she did, but as a reader, the ending she used in Shifter didn’t really leave me satisfied initially. As a writer, I understand that it was a structurally sound ending, but emotionally, that didn’t really compute. What Joanna did with Shifter was to end it with Beroan, the dragon-shifter male lead, dying in the final boss fight. This, of course, broke Nsi’s heart. Mine too, frankly.

I was not expecting this ending at all! I mean, I expected injuries. Even severe injuries. But not this. An ending like this could majorly backfire because readers get attached to your main characters. Beroan, in particular, was a very likeable character. So this is another technique that I advise using with caution. You don’t want your reader to see the ending coming, but you may not want to go to these extremes. In some cases, such as Joanna’s, there’s a good reason and one that’s called for. But if you don’t have that good reason, don’t go here.

Here’s why. A reader who sees this ending and is upset can still look back through Shifter and recognize the signs that this was the ending. They didn’t see them while reading, but they see them now. If those reasons are not good, clear, and strong, the reader is going to feel cheated, not just upset. As writers, it’s our job to deliver an ending that sticks with the reader in some way. But if it’s a sad or bad ending, we have an extra responsibility to give the reader justification for that. Joanna has, I feel, done this in Shifter, but it could easily have gone the other way too. Make sure you think carefully before utilizing this technique!

Conclusion

Shifter was a great novel in my opinion. I would highly recommend reading it for anyone who likes clean fiction with Biblical themes and morally upright principles. You can find Shifter here or follow Joanna White on Amazon here.

Work-In-Progress Wednesdays #23

Ariel Paiement

This week, I have an excerpt from the most recent section of Pathway of the Moon. I’m already finishing up Part Four of Six. I’m really excited about how much progress I’ve made, and I can’t wait to start on the sequel. I’m slowly working on planning that. At any rate… Enjoy!

~~~

ALRIAN huddled in the reeds on the shoreline. The water lapped at her bare feet, and she shivered. The moon hung full and heavy overhead, a silent testament to the remaining time. Too much of it. Something snapped in the distance, and she retreated further into the reeds. Was it Shiador? The noise quieted. Not Shiador, then.

She let out a soundless sigh. She’d hid well. He wouldn’t find her if she stayed here. But she couldn’t hide until dawn anymore like they’d planned. With Leo and Deira’s arrest, she had to find her way to them. But she didn’t know where they were, and she had to figure it out without being caught by Shiador. Thankfully, she was certain he was searching obvious places. He still believed he was in possession of superior intellect, so why would he start in the good hiding spots? A dumb girl like her obviously wouldn’t be smart enough to prepare or think through her hiding places. And the women he was used to would never break the rules the men laid out.

After their last run in, he should already know she wasn’t anything like the women in camp, but she wouldn’t complain about how dense he was. It was working in her favor at the moment. She listened a moment longer, then stretched her stiff limbs in preparation for the swim back to the mainland. Her clothes had barely dried from her last swim.

She sighed.

Swimming with them was possible, of course, but was it really wise? The cold water and damp cloth against her skin for hours more could slow her down and make her sick if the air got any colder. She groaned softly and began to peel the thin clothing off. Bundling it together, she used the thin sash from the dress to tie it to her shoulders for the swim. She’d wait for it to dry again before she redressed. It was barely any protection against the wind anyway.

Then she took a deep breath and plunged into the water. The cold crashed into her, spread through her bones. But she pulled on her ashtra and forced her limbs to keep moving through the moonlit waters.

Ten minutes later, she dragged herself out of the water and onto the bank. Pushing her sopping wet hair out of her face, she sprawled out and took slow, shallow breaths to slow her heart rate. Best to take a moment to recover now while she knew Shiador wasn’t anywhere too close by.

While she rested against the cool, damp grass, she took a moment to think. Where would the Pathway be? Would Leo and Deira be there or would they have escaped already? She didn’t have any answers, though if they were still at the Pathway, it was probably because Leo was incapacitated. And they couldn’t be near any source of water because Amadeira would have been able to use that against them.

The wind played over her bare, damp skin, and she shivered. Somewhere in the distance, a fox released a sharp alarm cry and another one picked it up. She pushed herself to her feet and crept into the bushes. The sounds were quite far away, but who knew what had alarmed the animals. She veered away from the sound and headed for the camp. It was probably the last place Shiador would think to look, and it would be the first place she might find clues to the Path’s whereabouts.

Something hooted, and she jumped. The soft flutter of wings in the night met her attentive ear. She sighed. Nothing but a bird. If she made it out of this alive, she swore she would never spend the night alone in a creepy forest again. And she’d definitely make sure she stayed armed if she ever ended up the hunted instead of the hunter.

Speaking of arms, hadn’t Leo left a few knives and other weapons back in the little cottage? If she could make it there, she’d at least have some measure of protection on her if Shiador ran across her. Better that than nothing, and with the element of surprise, she might even stand a chance. And while she was there, maybe she could find a warm change of clothes.

She glanced up into the foliage overhead. The moon shone as bright as ever. She heaved a sigh and began the trudge back toward the camp. The sounds of the animals in the forest enveloped her, and she let them guide her through the forest safely. If she heard cries of alarm or disturbances nearby or in the distance, she stayed away from that area.

But the forest was large, and in the moonlight, it looked far different than it did during the day. Going a different direction from usual also hadn’t helped. Was she even on the right track? The forest began to thin, and a path cleared for her. She frowned and followed the trail. 

Things began to look more familiar. There was the old twisted tree that had been hit by lightning. And there was the stone with odd carving on it. Her shoulders sagged in relief. She slowed her pace and moved from the cover of one tree to the next. If anyone was watching for her, hopefully this would keep her out of their sight. She paused on the edge of the woods. Would anyone be watching for her? Would they suspect she might try to return to the cabin in search of her friends?

She peered around the trunk of a tree. No lights lit the cottage from within, and everything was quiet outside. Shiador had hardly been quiet in his initial pursuit of her, and she doubted he would bother doing so now. He wanted her running and terrified out of her mind so she wouldn’t think straight. Too bad for him. She wasn’t the type to do that. Maybe if he’d met her before she joined the military, he might have had more luck.

She rolled her eyes. As if. He’d only have had more luck because she wasn’t trained to deal with situations like this back then. She slipped out from behind the tree and hurried to the cottage. No one stopped her, and no one tried to accost her. The place was deserted. She turned the knob on the back door. The handle turned with ease, and she pushed inside.

Nothing moved or made a sound in the cottage’s interior. She eased the door shut behind her and hurried toward her trunk in the living room. She stumbled over an overturned cushion from the couch and stubbed her toe on the edge of a table leg. The search party Kiarhsu had assembled had left no stone unturned, and it seemed they had also left the house in disarray when they’d left. She slowed down and squinted to make out the shadowy shapes by the moonlight streaming in the window. If only she could turn on a light. But that was too risky.

She groped around beside the love seat until she located the trunk she’d thrown her clothes and weapons into. Opening the lid, she sighed. At least her things were still in the trunk. Someone had folded everything neatly, and she guessed Deira must have done so while she was trying not to go mad with stress before she and Leo were moved to the Path. She dug through it and laid out a warm shirt, loose fitting pants, a belt, and her weapons. Then she yanked the soaking wet dress the camp’s women had adorned her in off her back. The cursed thing looked like a shapeless, sad mess now. She wadded it up even more and threw it into a corner. Infernal invention. She dragged the shirt over her head and then tugged on her pants with a grim smile. Much better suited for what she was doing. Traipsing about the woods naked or clothed in a flimsy dress meant to slow her down was Rith’s own curse. No woman deserved to be chased through the forest by a madman in clothing that was designed to slow her flight.

And besides. She had another mission to perform. Besides evading Shiador, that was. She strapped her sword on and strode to the front door this time. A quick peek out the windows confirmed that no one was lurking around in wait, so she pushed the door open inch-by-inch until she could squeeze out. Shutting it behind her, she scanned the immediate surroundings. Nothing.

The birds and other night animals were creating the usual soft buzz of noise in the background. Nothing had come this way recently besides her, and they knew she was not a threat. Her shoulders sagged. That was one problem out of her way. The next problem was a bigger one: would the women be willing to help her?

She squared her shoulders. Only one way to find out.

~~~

Thanks for reading! What are you guys up to? Feel free to share in the comments below. I’d love to see what all of you are working on right now.

Flash Fiction Fridays: Orian

Ariel Paiement

This week’s flash fiction is about Dairdra and Orian from the Throne of War series. Enjoy!

~~~

Dairdra ran her fingers through the inch of warm water in the tub, watched the hot water cascade from the tap. How long had it been since she’d really enjoyed life? And how long had it been since she’d laughed so much in a day? With a man, no less. 

She’d thought the part of her that could enjoy a man’s company like that was long dead. After all, it hadn’t made an appearance since Crypt’s death four years ago. She’d resumed her duties as Queen and had taken onto her shoulders the role her husband should’ve had, and no one had questioned the pieces of her heart that were missing. Some days, those pieces, which were firmly planted in the Second Life when Crypt died, warred with the pieces of her heart that were still solidly attached to this world. 

No one had pushed her to pursue a match in the first year or so, but now everyone kept hinting at it, kept introducing her to different eligible bachelors. Why not? She was old enough to wed and finally hand over her extra duties to someone fit to shoulder them. But did she want to?

Not particularly. The reasons for that were a jumble though. First, she didn’t want to marry after losing Crypt. Her insecurities and fears of losing any new lover were too great. Second, she wasn’t sure if she would be happy taking the more traditional roles a Queen took, and she was certain that few of the men she’d met so far would be happy if she wanted equality in ruling the kingdom. 

But now all of those reasons were in a tangled mess at the bottom of her heart. Orian–the dark-haired, blue-eyed devil–was the man responsible for shaking her foundations and causing her to question what she really wanted. He had brought to life parts of her that she thought were well and truly dead. Somehow, though, he had done the impossible and had raised her battered heart’s hopes. 

She pulled her hand out of the bathwater with a groan. Claudius would love this. He’d be ringing the wedding bells with no further ado if she told him Orian had caught her eye. In fact, she was fairly certain her head councilor had been just waiting for her to take a shine to the prince since his arrival four months ago. Of course, if she was to allow Orian the chance to publicly court her, as he’d requested, she’d have to get the Council’s permission, and that meant informing Claudius.

She shook her head and began to strip. Well, it was an issue that would have to be dealt with eventually. She needed a partner and someone who would help her shoulder the burden. The crown was a heavy, lonely duty, and though she loved her people dearly, she was finally ready to admit that she wanted someone beside her. Just so long as that someone didn’t think she’d be happy with being demoted to silent supporter and mother. But she was fairly sure Orian wasn’t the sort to react to her that way. And if he was, she could always kick him back through the Gate he’d been sent through.

That was it, then. In the morning, she would tell the Council she intended to give Orian a chance. Sighing, she settled down into the bath. Until then, she would let the warm water soothe her troubled mind and her fearful heart. No sense in losing a good night’s sleep over this.

~~~

I hope you all enjoyed it! If you have something you’d like to see or a character you want to see more about in the flash fiction Friday posts, feel free to leave the suggestion in the comments or send me an email! I’m always open to hearing what you all are interested in reading.

Work-In-Progress Wednesdays #22

Ariel Paiement

This week’s WIP Wednesday is an excerpt from the latest chapter of Pathway of the Moon.

~~~

LEO tried to catch a glimpse of Foren as he and Amadeira were dragged from the cabin into the woods beyond. The moon shone down in silver-white on the ground and dappled the faces of the antagonizers who surrounded him. Not a friendly face in sight. Had Foren given up on helping now that their plans had been blown apart? Or had he too been discovered and locked away to await sentencing?

His mind drifted to Alrian for a minute. She’d be undergoing the preparations of an Equinox Bride right now. Hardly anything enjoyable. But he’d have to leave her safety to her now because he couldn’t do anything for her. He wasn’t even sure he could do anything for himself without risking Amadeira. That wasn’t an option, and fighting his way free would leave her vulnerable. He couldn’t protect her and himself while going on the offensive. Not against this many enemies.

So he let them drag him along without making a fuss. Beside him, Amadeira was silent, but when he looked over, he caught the glimmer of her tears on her cheeks. She glanced at him and tried to offer a smile, but it fell seconds later. He groaned. If his hands were free right now, he would take her in his arms and wipe those tears away. He’d comfort her until she no longer wept or felt fear. But his arms weren’t free, and he had no comfort to offer. Not when he didn’t have the first clue how they were supposed to survive this.

He’d have to make it up as he went along. There wasn’t exactly another option at the moment. He’d reevaluate their position when they reached the Pathway. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe Kiarhsu would only have him flogged instead of putting him to death. They needed his blood, but they didn’t need to kill him for that.

Which brought up another problem. He didn’t want them to open the Pathway at all. And his blood could open it. They weren’t likely to give him a say in what was done with the blood spilling from his veins later on when they bled him under the full moon. Shame, really. But what villain would give his hostage a chance to voice an opinion? It just didn’t work out well. Best to keep them quiet.

He swallowed back a laugh. What was he doing? He should be thinking of ways to escape, not letting his mind ramble to every absurd, obvious thing it could find to dwell upon. This wouldn’t help them out at all. He forced his mind back to the task at hand. Forming a plan with very little to go on.

Kiarhsu waved at his men, and Leo received a boot to the back. He stumbled forward, tripped over a dip in the path, and dropped to his knees. The men hauled him up roughly and lifted him onto a horse where he was promptly tied to the saddle. No escape there, it seemed. Not that it would do him much good to escape without Amadeira. And Kiarhsu knew it, Rith take him! He scowled down at the man who had ruined everything in just under a day. How much longer until he could be rid of the pest?

Right. Not until he actually had a plan. Well, that was frustrating, but it couldn’t be helped. He slouched down in the saddle with a grumpy growl, but he didn’t give the men eyeing him warily any cause to hit him or bring him back into line with brute force. Best to save the fighting for a moment when he could actually achieve freedom with Amadeira at his side. This was not such a time.

~~~

That’s it for this week! What have you guys been working on? Feel free to share it in the comments.

Flash Fiction Fridays: Throne of Deception

Ariel Paiement

This week’s flash fiction is about Orian, a new character who will be a main lead in the series Throne of War, which follows the novella In Darkness Lost. The book series, starting with Throne of Deception, will follow an older Dairdra and Orian, a young man sent from another planet to gain her hand and her throne in marriage.

~~~

 Orian stared at the letter he’d received for a moment longer before crumpling it up and throwing it into the fire crackling on the hearth. As if he needed to be reminded what they’d hired him for. He’d been training for this since he was a child. They’d exploited his ability when they found him on the street, and now his sole purpose would be fulfilled. They were sending him off to do what he’d been trained for.

To deceive and lie to a woman who, according to the reports they’d received over the years, had been through more than enough sorrow. The last image that had been displayed on his holo just before the mission’s missive was sent through had been of a woman in her early twenties with lovely waves of black hair that he already wanted to run his fingers through. But what had really caught him about her had been the pain lurking in the fine lines around her eyes and in her straightforward gaze.

Dairdra of Argent. A singular woman. At eighteen, she had led her country through a war that one of their allies had started with no warning. She’d lost both her parents, and a year later, when the war had finally concluded, she’d lost her lover too. After all this, she’d retreated into hiding for a time, and his masters had fumed about how their plans were ruined. But then she had returned, and all had been right with his world again.

As right as it could be, anyway. He opened the picture on his holo device again and stared into the woman’s eyes. Though he’d never met her, he felt some sense of connection to her, a drawing that he couldn’t explain. But what did that matter? She would hate him when she discovered the lies he’d told her. He, who was no prince and who was a liar in every way, would be king, but he would be king of a throne of deception. And he would likely never be the king of her life. What an unfair hand life had dealt. The streets would have been kinder.

But the streets were no longer his. He was not Orian the street urchin. He was Orian of the Thirkians, the only living heir of the previous King and Queen, and he would ensure an alliance for his masters, one that he was certain would be used to exploit the young Queen into lending her aid to a ever-darkening purpose. Oh, he couldn’t confirm it because no one ever told him anything he didn’t have to know. He could lie better if they didn’t tell him why he was doing it. Or so they said. He’d never hated his ability more than he had ever since they had told him it was the reason for the lies he now lived, the reason for the lies that had granted him a throne. A throne of deception indeed.

~~~

That’s it for this week, everyone! I hope you enjoyed this. As I have more information about when Throne of Deception will be published and when it will be made available (in part or in whole) on Wattpad and Inkitt, I’ll let everyone know.