Today has a theme with my tour post and the guest post I'm hosting.
I'll be talking why you should write short stories on the wonderful Summer Ross' blog.
And on my blog, I'm so excited to have the talented YA fantasy author Cherie Reich with a flash piece. It's a prequel to her short story, "Magna's Plea."
A princess will rise and challenge Fate.
While her father, brothers, and people fight against the Kingdom of Apentha, tenacious eighteen-year-old Princess Magna can only watch the destruction of Amora, her besieged city and kingdom. Her mother, Queen Vyvian, has refused to allow her heir to join the fray.
But Magna won't take no for an answer. She seeks out an end of the war from Prince Cyrun of Apentha, their prisoner. If she can't persuade him toward peace, then Amora may fall.
This short story prequel includes a sneak peek of Reborn, Book One of The Fate Challenges, forthcoming May 2014.
YA Epic Fantasy
The Fate Challenges #0.5
Cherie Reich is a speculative fiction writer living in Virginia. For more information about her work, please visit her blog and website.
MORAN’S VICTORY
They couldn’t let the Apenthans win.
Hazy twilight hid the Place of Lordéhi from Moran’s view. His sandaled feet sloshed through the reeds along the river’s bank. He plucked a reed and twirled it through his fingers. Guards carrying torches trailed his family and him. No one would attack them here. The sun had dipped into Hupogaia’s realm. War had gone to bed.
Beside him, his brother Thoran emitted a soft grunt in pain. An Apenthan soldier had slashed Thoran’s arm during today’s battle.
“Is the pain real bad?” Moran worried about the wound. Thoran was his best friend, despite a four-year age difference. They’d play-fought against numerous villains throughout the years.
“No, I’m fine.” Thoran gritted his teeth and clutched his injured shoulder. “I’ll be ready to fight again in no time.”
Father patted Moran on the head and ruffled his hair. “Apenth’s healers will heal Thoran.”
Why did he insist on treating Moran like he was ten? Father hadn’t allowed him out of the war tent. Moran wanted to face the same danger his brother and Father did. “I would’ve taken care of those Apenthans, if I’d been out there.”
He swished the reed in front of him as if it was a sword.
Thoran chuckled, despite his face growing whiter. “They have real weapons.”
“Pfft, I can still fight.” He tossed the reed into the water. Ripples spread out from it, but what was that? The waves skirted a slender piece. As his father and brother walked on, Moran got on his hands and knees and leaned toward it.
“Come along. We’ll visit the healer and then return to the palace.” Father called over his shoulder.
“I see something.” His fingers brushed against the object, and he tugged on it.
Something held it in place.
Moran reached out farther and yanked. The force nearly sent him onto his behind. He studied the thing in his hands. It appeared almost like a branch, but it was smooth. He brought it up to his eye and could see all the way through the hole.
“What do you have there?” Father stomped over.
“I don’t know.” He held it out to his father, but before Father could take it, bubbles erupted from the water.
Father jerked Moran from the river’s edge and unsheathed his blade.
The guards around them did the same.
A head popped up from the water and the rest of his body followed. The man—not much older than Thoran—gasped for air.
“An Apenthan!” Moran recognized the red battle clothes the Apenthans wore.
“Seize him.” Father shielded Moran and Thoran as the guards entered the water.
The boy and the guards fought before they overtook him and dragged him to the embankment.
“Let’s take him to the palace. Mother will decide what we should do with him.” Thoran straightened, as if his wound no longer bothered him.
“This can’t wait, but you’re still seeing a healer later, Thoran.” Father instructed a few guards to search the river for more Apenthans, even though we didn’t see any more. Then, he placed a heavy hand on Moran’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “You stopped this Apenthan from breaching our walls.”
Moran’s heart swelled with pride. He alone could’ve saved their kingdom. They’d have to think he was old enough to battle now, right? With a grin and a light step, he walked with the others from the river’s bank to the palace. He couldn’t wait for Mother and his sister Magna to see what he’d done.
He picked up another reed before he left and pretended it was a sword. Apentha could never beat Amora as long as he was around.
