Tag: WIP Wednesday

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.

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.

Work-In-Progress Wednesdays #21

Ariel Paiement

This week’s WIP Wednesday excerpt is from In Darkness Lost. I’m still finishing up some last edits, which I was kind of hoping I wouldn’t be doing at this point, but hey… Plans don’t always work out quite according to our wishes. So, this week’s excerpt comes from some of the newer content that’s been added or rearranged.

~~~

RUNNING didn’t help. Dairdra collapsed onto her bed, gasping for breath. Her sides cramped, and she sucked in deep breaths. Closing her eyes, she ran her fingers along the velvety smoothness of her comforter and tried to focus on the gentle current of warm air wafting from the fireplace. The air blew the bed’s gauze curtains against her arms, and the touch pulled her back to the present. She opened her eyes and blinked, her head throbbing.

The warm light of the fire played over the ceiling and gave the room a pleasant, cozy atmosphere. But it didn’t bring any comfort to her. Her chest ached and she buried her face in the silk pillow. Even the release of crying was denied to her, and she lay there, motionless, in tense silence.

She didn’t understand. Why did it have to be her mother? She was too young to shoulder her mother’s load or to take her place. She still needed the one parent who took time for her. She sat up and fisted the comfort in her fingers with a shuddering breath. She suddenly had to move, couldn’t stand sitting on the bed like everything was as it usually was. She moved down onto the floor and sat down.

Still restless, she rocked back and forth on her heels. How was it that one thing had so much power to destroy? Just one minute was all it had taken, and now her life had become a disaster.

She tried to find some bright spot, some hope to cling to, but she couldn’t find anything. Her throat tightened, and the walls of her room suddenly seemed so much closer, the room darker than before. She huddled there on her floor, drew her knees up to her chest. But she couldn’t seem to shake that lost, empty feeling settling into the pit of her stomach. Could anyone fix this? Or would she feel lost and empty forever?

Tears welled up behind her closed lids, then broke free of her lashes and dripped down onto the blue silk of her dress. Stop. This is a time for action and duty, not for crying. She should get up and go speak to her father about what she needed to do with her mother out of commission. She lifted her head and dashed away the tears. Sucking in a deep breath, she rested her forehead against her knees.

Work offered a course of action and a way to escape the growing darkness. She could throw herself into her duties, numb herself to the pain with work. But what were her duties? Her mother spoke of only the organization aspects of the job and the finer points of interacting with the court. She had no idea what else was required because what was required changed based upon what the King demanded of his consort.

Once again, she was reminded of how alone she was. That only added to the yawning void centering in her chest. Since she’d reached adolescence, she’d been dreaming of the man she’d marry. She’d had her hopes too, though she’d only spoken of it once or twice with her mother.

Those hopes had been encouraged, but nothing had come of them because she wasn’t allowed to wed until her eighteenth, a rite of passage she’d reached just a few months back. Besides, the man of her dreams and her secret fantasies had been nothing but a best friend and attentive servant since she’d met him on the day he’d entered the palace as her mother’s protegee. And she’d never felt the disappointment more keenly than she did now when nothing seemed certain anymore.

She rubbed her aching temples. Well, of that was a bridge she’d have to cross when it came to it. For now, it was pointless to add any other worries to the already insurmountable pile. She pushed herself to her feet and dragged her aching body to the bathroom. She hadn’t expected to be this sore from the day’s activities.

Maybe it was her body’s response to the shock. She hadn’t really processed everything that had happened until now, and suddenly she felt tired. Too tired to bother with anything. But going to bed and sleeping away the hours until this was over wasn’t an option.

She splashed cold water from the wash basin over her face and dried it. A quick glance in the mirror confirmed that it hadn’t done much to hide the red-rimmed eyes that were evidence of her pain. But at least she didn’t have tear stains streaking her face.

She turned away from the mirror and shuffled out of her room. Might as well get the things she needed to do accomplished. Maybe then she could collapse and give her body and heart a chance to accept what had happened today. She drifted down the empty colonnaded halls.

The halls were so pristine, and their white, splendid beauty made her heart ache. How could anything be so put-together while she was falling to pieces? It didn’t seem fair. The silver plants that gave Argent her name had always made her smile before, but now they didn’t inspire any emotion at all. They stood in their pots along the rows of columns, but their glittering beauty was distant now, not close and personal.

Everything was cold and distant, and Dairdra’s stomach dropped. She’d never felt loneliness so sharply. Would anything ever feel right again?

That question had no answer. The realization was almost enough to send her running back to her room again. At least there she could close the drapes and hide in darkness. At least her bedroom was a place she could let her control slip. Here, she couldn’t, and she had to bear the pain stoically. She had to be cold and distant just like the plants she used to love so much.

~~~

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

Work-In-Progress Wednesdays #20

Ariel Paiement

Hi everyone! I’m back from my missions trip to Romania, and this week, I’ve got a little glimpse at what I worked on during the flight over. This is an excerpt from Trader Prince of Aleshtain.

~~~

HE shouldn’t have been surprised that his father had gone behind his back on the matter of his possible bride. In fact, he should’ve anticipated this kind of stunt. Now, because he hadn’t expected it, hadn’t planned for it, he was sitting across from Princess Aledhia of Argos, looking like a Rith-cursed fool. Despite her attempts to converse, he’d barely spoken ten words to her since she’d shown up to present herself before him and his father in the throne room.

Anything had to be better than this. The princess was, admittedly, beautiful, but she was also blond, and he hated blonds. He much preferred dark haired girls with keen eyes and a quick wit. Like Rhubhian. But no, not her. She wasn’t an option, and he had to remember that. She wasn’t an option, why? Because of his father’s shadow-struck ideas of who was and was not acceptable. Maybe he should just forget what his father thought and marry the girl anyway.

Of course, there was just one problem with that. Even if he wanted to do that–and he had to admit that the idea was appealing–she probably wouldn’t have him regardless of the station it would give her. Too bad because he realized, as he stared at his food and listened to Aledhia’s high-pitched, soft voice, he desperately wanted her to want him. Life never played fair, did it?

“Your father said you were quite the administrator, my lord.”

He blinked and forced himself to focus on the girl in front of him, not on the one unwillingly awaiting his return to his quarters. His father had said what? “He exaggerates.” Mostly because he avoided administrating anything except his own investments, which had failed due to his father’s attempts to keep him under the royal thumb.

“You’re far more modest than I expected. Surely your father wouldn’t exaggerate so much?”

He would if it meant making a better match. And him, modest? Hardly. He was just a realist. He shoved a forkful of vegetables into his mouth to postpone the need to answer.

She tensed, but she held her open posture otherwise. She’d clearly been coached on how to appeal to men of the sort Aleshtain produced. Unfortunately, subservience wasn’t a good look on her. Or maybe it was just that she wasn’t the one he wanted submission from, and she wasn’t the one he wanted, period. He shifted with a frown.

She set her fork to the side and stared down at her lap. “Have I done something to displease you, my lord?”

“No.”

“But… I do not please you either?”

Rith take that cursed wobble in her voice. He could practically hear the tears in her dulcet tones. His fingers twitched against his thigh, and he glanced at the door. “No, it isn’t that… I just… I wasn’t expecting a visit, I’m afraid, and it’s put me off my usual charming self.”

She didn’t answer.

“It isn’t you.” Oldest response in the book, and the best way to say it really was her. “Really.”

“If it were, you wouldn’t tell me, would you?”

The first interesting thing she’d said all day. “Why do you think that?”

“You do not seem to expect your women to obey your every whim, and you do not seem the sort to make demands.”

How wrong she was. If he gave an order, it was to be obeyed, and giving orders was in his nature. He wasn’t unreasonable like the other men here, but it didn’t mean he wasn’t going to be in charge in his household. “I like a little bit of fire in my women, but you’re wrong about me. If you do something wrong, you’ll know.”

She didn’t meet his gaze. “Then why don’t I know what I’ve done to garner your cold reception? You say it isn’t me, but, with all due respect, sir, I think you lie.”

She had him there. Fine. He’d give her the truth if she wanted it so badly. “I have no interest in wedding you. My father wants this union, not me.”

Her brow furrowed “You think we are ill-suited?”

In every possible way. “Most assuredly.”

“You’re quick to judge, sir.”

“You think differently?”

“A marriage can work on respect, obedience, and some affection.”

He snorted and sipped at his wine. “That’s what you were told to say. I asked for your thoughts.”

“I have very few on the matter.” Her gaze flicked over him. “Except that I think I’d like the real you better.”

Perceptive. He smiled. “Sadly for you, you likely won’t ever see it.”

“Ever? Even if we wed?”

“I’d do my duty. But opening up and wanting you aren’t part of that duty.”

~~~

Thanks for reading, and I hope you guys enjoyed seeing what I’ve been working on in my spare time. What have you guys been writing lately? Feel free to share in the comments below!

Work-In-Progress Wednesdays #19

Ariel Paiement

This week’s work-in-progress piece comes from Pathway of the Moon. In this section, Leo is scheming with Deira on how to get rid of the man Kiarhsu sent with them on their mission, and things don’t go quite as planned.

~~~

LEO eyed the man Kiarhsu had sent with them. Clearly, Kiarhsu hadn’t been taking any chances with this. Short of knocking the man out and portaling him to some place very far away, Leo had tried everything to lose the man. But Foren was smart and determined in addition to being massive. If they were going to get rid of him, then extreme measures would have to be taken.

Which was why he was now sitting across from the man, staring over a roaring fire and figuring out what to do. He couldn’t take the man by surprise here. Foren wasn’t dumb enough to let Leo get the upper hand here, where he was expecting it. He sighed. At least the man wasn’t paying close attention to the conversations he had with Deira. Which meant she could help him out.

He leaned over and tugged her into his lap, keeping his eye on Foren. The man rolled his eyes but didn’t stop them. Amadeira squirmed in his lap, and he caught the irritation in her brief glance. Well, she’d get over it when he told her what he had in mind. Leaning in, he made a show of flicking the tip of his tongue over the shell of her ear, gaining a furious hiss from Amadeira and a flat look from Foren. He tightened his grip on Amadeira and dropped a kiss to her neck before moving back up to place an open-mouthed kiss right beneath her earlobe. She couldn’t get much stiffer, and he fought down the apology. Finally, Foren looked away and grumbled something about not making a man look at what he couldn’t have. As soon as Foren had looked away, he eased up on the public display of affection and whispered in Amadeira’s ear. “We have to get rid of him. I need you to make an excuse to go into the woods a little ways. Then make some sort of noise that he can’t miss. I’ll take it from there.”

She bit her lip and wiggled in his grip. “L-leo, I need to relieve myself. P-please, may I?”

If he hadn’t seen the briefest flicker of a smile, he would’ve assumed she was terrified to ask. Foren’s sharp gaze settled on them again. Leo shrugged and let her go, forcing a grimace onto his lips. “Hurry up. And don’t think this gets you a pass on tonight.”

Foren grunted but didn’t try to stop Amadeira when she rose and hurried toward the bushes surrounding the clearing where they’d camped. He watched her go in silence before returning his attention to Leo. “You can drop the act. I know you’re soft with her.”

Leo raised a brow.

“Good thing she’s naturally submissive.” Foren folded his arms.

“There’s more than one way to train a dog.” He bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from taking back the words. He needed to sound callous, like one of the other Ishtralian men. Not like himself. Not like someone who cared.

“You think I’m stupid, Ryalin?”

“Not particularly, no.”

“Then don’t disrespect me by treating me like it. We’ve all seen the way you look at her. Like she’s your whole Rith-cursed world. Don’t know how she managed to gain such a high position, but I’ve almost never seen a man among us look at his woman that way.”

“So? Is there a problem with it? I find that humanizing her makes her feel cherished. Then she wants to obey, and it makes my life easier.” If only this man knew that his woman had followed him two days’ ride against his express orders just so she could be here now.

“I don’t have an issue with it.” Foren rested his hands on his knees. “I’m rather fond of the approach myself. I handle my own wife that way. But I don’t look at her like a love-lorn puppy.”

“I don’t look at my wife that way.”

“So first you thought I was stupid, and now you think I’m blind?” Foren scowled at him. “Your affection for her is going to get you hurt.”

“Really? And how will that happen, precisely?”

“You really don’t know what you’re up against.” Foren laughed. “Friendly piece of advice. Kiarhsu will use whatever leverage he can on you when he’s ready to make a move. And you’re going to cave like Ashkarith.”

Leo folded his arms. “I’m prepared.”

“So was the city. The defenders there still lost.” Foren picked up a stick and poked at the fire. “She’s your weakness. And you shouted it to the world from the day you arrived. I admit, I don’t blame you for claiming her publicly. Pretty girl like that? Any one of us would kill to get his hands on her. But broadcasting it? That was just plain stupid.”

~~~

That’s it for today! I hope you all enjoyed it. Have something you’re working on? I’d love to hear about it in the comments! Feel free to share.

Work-In-Progress Wednesdays #18

Ariel Paiement

We’re back this week for a sneak peek at some of the newest content for In Darkness Lost, which releases in paperback sometime in September (if I can manage to get it formatted in a way Amazon won’t mess up by then. Lol.) and in Kindle as soon as I’ve done one last comb-through for spelling and grammar.

~~~

CRYPT was in his room stretched out in his usual spot on his black-clothed bed reading a book. He looked up when Dairdra came in, his exquisite, ageless hazel eyes shifting colors as the sunlight filtered across them. His long, black lashes seemed to glitter in the sun. Dairdra paused in the doorway and observed him for a long moment. How long had she known him? It seemed like ages. But the feelings that welled up at seeing him now were unlike any she’d experienced before. Relief mingled with longing, but longing for what? For his comfort and support? Or for something more?

She’d liked him for years now, so the strange pang of wistfulness was nothing new. But the keenness of that longing had never been quite like this. She bit her lip and looked away. Her entire body felt too hot, and she tugged at her collar. What had she come here for, again?

“Dairdra?” His soft voice brushed over her like a caress. “Did you need something?”

Did she? Yes. But she wasn’t entirely sure what she needed. “I…I, uh, came to ask you to take a walk with me.”

“Really?” He flipped onto his back and sat up.

“My father told me to ask.”

He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood. “And you wouldn’t have asked if he hadn’t told you?”

“Well…I guess I would’ve.” She wrapped her arms around herself and stepped back. Her back struck the door, and she stopped. She had no reason to run from him. But she suddenly felt bare in front of him, as if his searching gaze could see everything she didn’t want the rest of the world to see. She couldn’t decide if that made her feel uncomfortable or safe. Her mind seemed to think it was uncomfortable because she’d moved without thinking.

He stepped closer, a smile playing on his lips. “So, what’s the real reason you’re here?”

“I don’t know.”

“You do.”

“I…” She bit her lip and pressed her palms to the door behind her. “I’m not sure.”

He smiled, and his hand rose before dropping back to his side. Even in private, he was careful not to push her or break limits. His smile took on a sadder note. “Your father wasn’t much comfort, I take it?”

She ducked her head and sighed. He’d already figured out what she didn’t want to admit to herself. She wanted comfort, and since she hadn’t gotten it from the one person she’d hoped to receive it from, she’d come to the only person she knew she could trust. At least he wouldn’t turn the cold shoulder. She loved her father, but the relationship was too distant. She still wanted his attention, but for as much as she hoped for it, she knew better than to expect it. So, she’d come to Crypt, knowing he was the only person whom she could trust to comfort her. She probably should’ve come straight to him instead of bothering to look for it from her father first.

She’d already known that he would take her grief and pain, and he would shoulder it with her instead of leaving her to drown in darkness and fear. Hadn’t he always been the one she went to when things weren’t going well and her mother was too busy? He’d been her support and confidante since she was thirteen years old and they first became friends. Now it seemed as natural to take it to him as it was to talk to her mother about it. And as usual, he might as well be a mind reader because he knew what she was thinking before she understood it herself. She truly didn’t appreciate him enough. “No, he wasn’t.”

~~~

That’s it for this week. What are you guys working on? Share with us all in the comments below! I’d love to hear about it.

Work-In-Progress Wednesdays #17

Ariel Paiement

For this week, I’ve got another section from Trader Prince of Aleshtain to share. In this excerpt, Eras Dhiabhan is struggling to figure out how to deal with the slave he acquired and is finding it more difficult than he anticipated.

~~~

The door flew open, and he lost his balance. Stumbling back, he landed on the floor. With a grimace, he shook off the pain. But he remained sitting on the floor for a minute. Stone floors were such a nuisance when one took a spill. He glanced up at Rhubhian with a sigh. She stared back down at him, her lower lip caught between her teeth. She didn’t seem to know what to do because she just stood there with fear in her eyes and hunched shoulders. He stretched out on the floor with a weary laugh. “Maybe leaning on the door was a bad idea.”

Rhubhian frowned. “You are not…angry?”

Eras pinched the bridge of his nose. “No. Just surprised. You’re finished changing.” He eyed the clothes she was wearing. Still far too revealing. He sat up and pushed himself to his feet. “But you can’t wear that.”

“It is not pleasing?”

It was. And that was the problem. “No. You can wear one of my shirts until I can have the castle seamstress make you new clothes.”

She ducked her head and refused to look at him. Was she embarrassed by her lack of clothing? Hurt that he didn’t like what she had on? Or was something else wrong that he hadn’t even guessed at yet? Women were so confusing. “Is something the matter?”

Rhubhian shook her head, but she still didn’t look at him.

Something was wrong, then. He turned away with a sigh. Women. He just couldn’t understand them. Squaring his shoulders, he stalked to the dresser and pulled out the first shirt he found. It was made from a soft white fabric, and while it might be slightly see-through due to her darker complexion, it should serve its purpose. He turned back to her. “You can have this.”She nodded and took a step forward to take it. He watched her unfold it and run her thumbs over the seams. Was she unhappy with it? Her gaze met his, and her cheeks grew dusky with a blush. “It is too nice for a slave, yes?”

He frowned. “No. It isn’t. If I can wear it, then why shouldn’t you?”“I am not a prince.”

“No, but you are a human being.” He crossed his arms. “I don’t want to hear you degrade yourself in front of me ever again. Just wear the shirt.” Why did she have to be so stubborn? Didn’t she understand that she had value, slave or not? Probably not thanks to the treatment she’d received up to this point. He would lose faith in his own value too if he’d been through what she likely had endured.

She tugged the shirt on over her head. “Thank you.”

“I haven’t really done anything.”

“You have honor. It is…rare?” Her brow creased. “Valuable, I think you say.”

“Yes. I suppose so. But it isn’t around here. Not anymore.”

~~~

That’s all for this week, everyone! Do you have a section of your work-in-progress you want to share? If so, as always, feel free to post it in the comments below! I’d love to see what you’re all up to as well.

Work-In-Progress Wednesdays #16

Ariel Paiement

This week, I have an excerpt from my newest work-in-progress to share. Trader Prince of Aleshtain is the second book in the Legends of Alcardia series. It follows the story of Captain Dhiabhan, who was introduced in Bane of Ashkarith. This is from the opening scene of the book.

~~~

Eras tried not to toy with the hem of his tunic while he waited for the day’s events to begin. Why had he come to court today, again? Right. His father had insisted. He shot his father a hard glare from where he stood behind the throne. Didn’t even have the decency to have a chair, let alone a proper throne, erected for his heir. His scowl deepened, and his gut clenched. Worse still, he was here just so he could watch the slave masters parade their newest wares about for his father.
Anything for Rabhor Thilain.

His stomach flipped. Which unlucky girl would end up in his father’s harem this afternoon? He closed his eyes, swallowing back bile. He just hoped it would be over soon. The five minutes they’d been waiting stretched out until it felt like twenty. How much longer until he could be done with this? Sweat trickled down his back, and he glanced at his father.

The doors finally swung open just as he couldn’t take any more. The page strode in and bowed stiffly. Eras eyed the man’s ballooning pants and striped shoes. The newest fashion in court? Ridiculous as usual.

“My liege, the merchants have brought their wares for your examination.” The page stepped to the side and nodded to the men waiting a few feet down the hall.

They made it sound so benign. As if they weren’t trafficking humans. They used nice, pretty words to hide the ugly, vicious truth. Typical. His attention fixed on the slaves being prodded into the room. He let his gaze wander over the row of women. His eyes snagged on the last woman in line. Two guards flanked her, holding her arms and dragging her in. The others before her had walked in placidly, their heads down and shoulders slumped.

But not this one. Each step, she took was controlled and tightly contained as if she would burst into flight at any moment. She walked between her captors with her head held high, a glower on her pretty features. It was as if she was born a goddess and was disgusted by the banality of the humans beneath her. That made him snicker. Maybe he should take up poetry.

His father glared at him, and he sobered, returning his focus to the line of slaves. He shifted from one foot to the other. Where was she from? Not from any of the mainland kingdoms. Perhaps from one of the colonies Argos had established on the Rithweald? No, not with that complexion. Her blue-black hair reminded him more of the ambassadors from Faelkish. Strange. How had they captured her?

She met his gaze with her smoldering gold eyes. Swallowing, he glanced over at his father. The man’s gaze had also settled on the girl with defiance in her eyes. Rith curse him! He’d ruin the girl. Eras gritted his teeth and clenched his fists at his sides. Yes, his father would destroy her.
But what was he to do about it? Forcing his fists to relax, he stared at the polished wooden doors behind the traders. He couldn’t intervene here.

The slave traders’ ring leader stepped forward, his head still bowed in respect. “Your Eminence, do you see anything you like?”

His father’s gaze raked over the line of slaves. “You brought me a rather dull lot this time.”

Dull? Eras raised a brow. None of them appeared dull to him. Unless, by dull his father meant they had no will. That, at least, was true.

“Surely there is something that can interest you? We have, for instance, this lovely young woman from Brithos. She was taken on a recent raid.” The trader gestured to a green-eyed slip of a girl.

Barely fifteen, Eras guessed.

“Or perhaps you prefer a bit more exotic option.” The slaver turned to the woman who’d been last in line. “We have this one from Faelkish. She’s a bit of a hellion, but I’m sure your Grace could tame her.”

Did he really have to be so smug? Eras clenched his fists at his sides. No one should tame her at all. How dare they speak this way about human beings?

“Let the Crown Prince choose first.” His father waved a hand at him.

He froze. Let him pick? His father knew he wouldn’t take a slave. The defiant girl’s gaze fixed on his again. He swallowed and broke eye contact. Had he imagined the hope in her eyes? “I see nothing of interest.” He peeked at the girl from beneath lowered lashes.

Her shoulders slumped, and her eyes darted to his father.

“Well, I see only one that I like. I’ll take the Faelkish—”

Eras’s heart wrenched, and his chest tightened. He could stop this. He could keep at least one safe from his father. Maybe. He stepped forward, holding up a hand. “Wait!”

His father shifted on his throne and raised a brow with a huff. “What is it?”

“I—” Eras met her now-blank stare. “I’ve changed my mind. Maybe it’s time I took on a slave or two after all.”

“And?” Rabhor drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair.

“I’m heir to the throne…” He stared at the girl. She’d probably hate him for what he was about to say, but it was the only way to save her from Rabhor’s clutches. “It’s about time I built my harem. The future God-king incarnate shouldn’t be without wives and concubines.” He hoped there was a suitable amount of contempt in his voice. Hoped his father would know that even in this, Eras was mocking him.

The answering frown told him the last comment had done its job. He bit his lip and glanced at the girl in green. Her expression went from hopeful to vacant. But a spark of anger still simmered in her empty stare. His gut clenched, and he tried not to think about how she must view him now. A necessary evil.

He offered his father a saccharine smile. “As such, I’d like the Faelkishian girl.”

~~~

That’s it for this week! Do you guys have anything you’re working on? If so, feel free to share in the comments below as always!

Work-In-Progress Wednesdays #14

Ariel Paiement

I’m really excited to announce that On Anarchy’s Wings is officially completed! There’s just another few chapters to post on Wattpad and Inkitt before the second book in The Chronicles of Eclesia trilogy is done. The next one will be started at some point when I’ve finished Pathway of the Moon and Trader Prince of Aleshtain: Book 2 of The Legends of Alcardia series. So, in honor of On Anarchy’s Wings’ completion, today’s work-in-progress Wednesday is an excerpt from the book for the last time!

~~~

LAKESH crawled to his feet and winced at the charred, ripping sensation rippling over his back. Even though he’d seen the blast coming and had portalled away in time to evade most of it, he’d still been burned by the cursed Light. So had his Third. And he had fewer healing capabilities, so Lakesh wasn’t even sure the other would pull through. Hopefully he would. In no way did Lakesh want to be stuck on this blasted planet alone. Misery loved company, and he would stick by that saying religiously. If he were human, he might feel bad about dragging his companion into this. After all, it wasn’t as if the other Korithel had asked to end up in this situation. But Lakesh wasn’t human.

He dragged his Third to his feet and snorted. “You’re a sorry mess.”

Taresh groaned and tried to bat his hands away. “Would you let me go? I swear, you’ll rip all the skin off my shoulders and back if you keep this up. And we’re not likely to get any help healing any time soon.”

“Good point.” He dropped Taresh. “Gods, this light is killing me.”

“Same. We’re going to have to go to the outer edges of the habital zones on this planet to stay alive until Ianabha can send us reinforcements.” Taresh sighed. “I hate this place.”

Lakesh smirked and crossed his arms, ignoring the peeling, tearing that sparked along his back. “Don’t worry. Soon enough, those who did this will pay. His sycophants won’t get away with this.”

“Not if Ianabha has any say.” Taresh began plodding toward the horizon with a stifled hiss. “Going to take her forever to get back to us though. Can you even communicate through the link?”

“Not right now. I tried when I woke up. That deplorable Light has blocked up my communicators, and after the frying my back took, every bit of my energy is going toward healing. It’s easing some though.” He caught up with his friend. “You?”

Taresh shook his head.

“Your healing working okay?”

A grimace this time.

Heat surged in Lakesh’s veins, and bitterness mixed with spice washed over his tongue. He glanced over at his Third. “They will pay, Taresh. Save the anger up for when it’ll actually be useful. Got it?”

Taresh nodded but still didn’t speak. Perhaps it pained him. His breathing didn’t sound quite right. Lakesh stared at the sun where it was dipping below the horizon. At least the night was coming fast. They would travel faster without the light making them sicker than they were. He clenched his fists at his sides. When he got his hands on those who had been His channel, he was going to show them suffering unlike anything they’d ever known. That he swore.

A storm was coming, and they would know the darkness in a way few ever could. If Ianabha didn’t make certain of that, he would. A tight smile stretched on his lips. Not one of those Formosians would survive the tidal wave unleashed. Someday soon, they would reach the end of the line, and he would be there, waiting.

~~~

I can’t tell you guys how ecstatic I am about finally finishing this book. The idea was conceived years ago when I finished the very first draft of On Twilight’s Wings, but I never got around to it. The book itself, once I started, began in the planning stages in March and ended the writing process for the draft this month.

All told, it took me roughly six months to write the whole thing, and it has totaled in at 95,135 words. Just about 5,000 shy of the 100,000 word count I anticipated. So the book’s a pretty decent length despite only having 20 chapters all together.

At any rate, I’m pretty happy to have finished the second book. I loved the story and planning it, as well as writing it. I’m sure the third book will be just as much fun, and it’s definitely going to be the grand finale of all the tension and chaos that has been building since book one. I’ll talk more about the book when I’m actually ready to start posting chapters.

For now, the work-in-progress Wednesdays posts will focus solely on Pathway of the Moon and Trader Prince of Aleshtain from PotM’s companion series. (I’m lazy and don’t feel like typing out the titles fully, so I’m going to abbreviate.) TPoA is the sequel to Bane of Ashkarith in terms of order in which the series has been written, but it is actually prior to the events of BoA in the timeline. PotM comes after both books by several hundred years.

But anyway, that’s all for this week, you all! What have you guys been up to? This week was a bit of a longer post just because I finished up a project. Has anyone else finished anything up? Or maybe are you getting close to finishing?

If not, don’t feel left out! I’ve got current projects going that are nowhere close to done. You’re not alone on that. If that’s you, what have you been working on recently?

Work-In-Progress Wednesdays #13

Ariel Paiement

This week, I’m sharing a part of an anthology piece I’ve been working on with a few author friends of mine. The piece is a historical fantasy short story about two characters that will feature in a prequel series to The Gate Chronicles.

The Gate Chronicles were the first books where I started exploring the concept of Gates or Pathways. The books will, at some point, receive a serious edit and re-work, but before that, I plan to focus more on the prequel and the other series I have going. For now, let’s take a look at the short anthology piece! This selection is from the opening scene.

~~~

RAIN began to drizzle down when Alantha pulled her horse to a stop in front of a run-down inn. A carriage rumbled up behind her as she slid off her horse, struggling not to collapse under the sudden weight of her soaked skirts. She knew she probably shouldn’t have hiked her skirts up to ride astride when a side-saddle was more appropriate, but she’d wanted to feel the wind in her face and the horse’s powerful body rippling beneath her. Was that so wrong? Every once in a while, surely she was allowed to have a bit of controlled freedom. Always controlled, but freedom, nonetheless. Her version, anyway.

She’d come here looking for an escape from her broken heart and the feelings she didn’t want to acknowledge, whatever her sister said about how unhealthy it was. Alantha didn’t want to feel anything. Didn’t want to be disappointed in Zeke for leaving instead of trying to change. Didn’t want to mourn the broken dreams of a love match that Lord Trevain’s insanity had ground into dust. And for about an hour before the rain had come pouring down, she’d found it.

She tied the horse to a nearby rail and undid the cinch on his saddle. It was heavy work for a lady, but she was no lady despite the station her sister’s marriage had acquired for them, so what did it matter? Footfalls splashed through the puddles on the cobblestones from a recent storm that had washed through before this one. That storm was responsible for her soaked garments. She glanced down at her clothes with a sigh. Why the blazes had she worn this pastel pink blouse and baby blue skirt today? Not only did it defy her mood, but now that it was drenched, it was most definitely not appropriate. Curse it all! She didn’t even have a jacket. She’d have to use the horse’s blanket. Hopefully—

“Miss?”

She jumped, nearly whacked the horse’s rump with the saddle as she spun. Her foot slipped on a moss-covered cobblestone at the edge of the inn’s small paddock, and she dropped the saddle at the man’s feet before tumbling unceremoniously onto her bum in the mud of the pasture. Wonderful. That would ruin her skirts entirely. Maybe even her chemise. She could feel the cold mud oozing through her garments and soaking clear through to her unmentionables.

The man stared down at her passively, his amber eyes calm. At least he had the good sense not to laugh. Or to stare at her inappropriately given her state of undress.

Alantha struggled to her feet and tried to brush the mud off the back of her skirts. Her hands came away coated in mud with her skirt not a bit cleaner for it. Well, forget it, then. It was no use trying to fix it now. She pulled the horse’s blanket out from beneath the saddle and wrapped it around her shoulders with a huff. “What do you want?”

A flare of amusement did enter his gaze then. Strange man. “I saw you struggling with the horse, and I thought I would offer assistance. But I see you already have it handled.”

Her jaw clenched. “Do not mock me, sir. Had you not scared the life out of me, I would not have had any issues at all.”

He stepped closer and raised a brow. “Oh? I apologize if I frightened you so badly, though you still seem rather lively to me.”

Despite the rain, her cheeks flushed with heat. And she was annoyed to discover that the heat was the result of both a visceral reaction to his closeness and frustration at his obvious mockery of her situation. This man knew nothing about her. What right did he have to behave this way? To play the rake with a woman he knew nothing of was simply not something that should be done. It defied logic, after all. “I think, sir, that your companion is waiting for you.”

He glanced over his shoulder at the other man standing in the doorway of the inn with a mulish expression on his face. “Ah. Never mind about Cassius. He’s as empty-headed as his name would imply.”

Wasn’t that a bit rude? She crossed her arms and clutched the blanket closer as he continued to stand only inches away. The rain came down harder in that moment, but she couldn’t miss the shout from the man in the doorway. “I heard that, Bram.”

“You were meant to, Cassius.” He didn’t take his eyes off her. “Here, let me help you with the saddle. And we’d better get the horse turned out into the paddock.”

She bit her lip. How had Cassius heard that? Bram hadn’t spoken loudly enough for someone to hear him from a few yards, let alone from the inn’s doorstep. “I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

What was she supposed to do? Logic dictated that she should accept his help. After all, she couldn’t easily put the horse out to pasture and stow the saddle out of the rain if she had to keep this blanket around her to keep herself decent. And now that there were men around, decency wasn’t something she planned on throwing to the wind. Lady or not, she had some sense of propriety. You just couldn’t parade about with your underclothes clearly visible through your blouse and skirt. It simply wasn’t done.

But even though she knew logic said that, the irrational part of her brain wanted to run from this man, screaming at the top of her lungs if possible. She didn’t know why. Aside from a serious inability to understand personal space, he hadn’t done anything wrong. He’d actually been quite kind. Surprisingly. Men were mulish beasts, from what she could see. The ones who weren’t tended to be fops or too weak-willed to assert themselves, in any case. This man didn’t seem to be either.

“No, I don’t think it will be.” He frowned at the horse. “Your gelding needs to be able to move around to make sure he stays warm enough. He won’t be happy tied to a post like this. And he needs feed. There’s a barn around the corner. If you’d prefer I put him there for you. And we can’t leave your saddle in the rain.”

A frown furrowed her brow. “You know this area well, sir?”

A slow smile spread over his lips. “You might say that. I live in the mansion a few feet up the road.”

~~~

Well, that’s it for this week! You guys know the drill. If you would like to give feedback or share parts of your own works-in-progress, feel free to do so in the comments. I’d love to see what you all are up to.