Let me tell you about my book, now with more title!
A couple of things. First, I have to thank my editor Debra Ginsberg, who gave me some rock solid advice and made this a better book. Also, I apologize to Debra for the whole it’s/its thing, I think I have it hashed out.
So I’m done with Book One, THE DEMON DOOR. I am hip deep in Book Two, THE SAND PRINCE (shit gets real, people) and am thinking deep thoughts on Book Three, which will be called The Third Power unless the folks at HBO have a better idea. (haha, sob.)
I’m seriously considering self publishing. I still need a cover artist. I have a very long way to go. But I finished!
The demon Prince of Eriis has turned out to be something of a disappointment.
Rhuun is crap at magic. He can’t fly, can’t even shoot flames from his hands – the only trick he’s mastered at all is disappearing into the shadows. His poor girlfriend has just about had it with him. It’s no wonder he drinks. All he does is daydream about visiting the other world, the world without magic – the human world of Mistra. Of course, no one has been there for a generation – when the humans won the war and sealed the mystical Door between the worlds. But Rhuun knows all about the humans. He’s got a book, the only human book on Eriis, and he’s been studying it his whole life. The fact that his book is a bodice ripping romance novel, well, it’ll make his adventures in the human world a little more complicated. For one thing, he’ll have to learn that women do not generally like to be called ‘wench.’
Over in Mistra, Lelet va’Everly could use a little magic herself. Parties and boys have lost their luster, and she’s desperate for an adventure. When a bizarre, exasperating, extremely good looking – and hot (literally) stranger shows up, he might be the person – and purpose -. she’s been looking for. (But why does he keep calling her a wench?)
Sometimes love doesn’t change the world – it changes all of them.
Here’s an excerpt:
What if I could go there?
The thought just appeared in his head as if it had been waiting for him to catch up.
What if I could really go there?
The idea took on some urgency when he realized the last few pages of his book were missing. There was going to be a wedding – Sir Edward had been killed – once on the dueling field (he was just faking it that time) and again from the Duke flinging him out a window into the rocky crags of the sea below. (It was all very dramatic.) The murder was solved, the jewels had been found, even Cook and old Mrs. Beedle had agreed that sweet Gwenyth would make a perfect bride. But the Duke hadn’t appeared at the chapel (what was a chapel? It had been one of his complete failures of translation. He decided it was a beautiful hall, something like where his mother held Court but cooler) and Gwyneth in her white gown (the color was extremely significant and since the color white on Eriis indicted victory won without battle it made a sort of sense) was in tears at something called an altar. And then – nothing!
“You ought to go, then,” said Ilaan one particularly hot afternoon as they lounged in the library. Aelle gave him a death glare, which had lost a great deal of potency as they grew up.
They were halfway through a bottle of sarave, (they had experimented with adding water and ice to the liquor, but Rhuun preferred to drink it straight) being by this time old enough to not have to steal it, and Ilaan was in an expansive mood. “You should sneak through the Door and find the person who wrote it and ask what happened to your girlfriend. Beast, you’d be a legend.”
“She’s not my girlfriend,” said Rhuun uncomfortably, at the same time Aelle said,
“I wish you’d never found that stupid book.”
The human world and all the nasty, vulgar creatures in it was the only competition Aelle hadn’t managed to drive away.
“Did you ever figure out what all that scribble was? On the back page?” asked Ilaan.
“No,” answered Rhuun. “It must be from before the War, but I can’t make it out. Plus its got some nasty brown stains all over it.”
“Time to throw it away,” muttered Aelle.
“Can I see it again?” asked Ilaan. “I’ve been studying pre-War language and it would be a perfect project. I’d get all sorts of credit. Did I tell you, the Mages contacted Father. They’re interested in me.”
Rhuun was not surprised to hear it. “Are you interested in them? I mean, they know everything about everything, no one gets to look at their books, but don’t you have to live down there?”
“Father has some ideas about that. We’re going down to see them soon, I’ll let you know if its too hideous to bear. So can I see it?”
“I suppose,” said Rhuun, “as long as you don’t plan on setting it on fire or something.”
“Bring it tomorrow and maybe we can start to translate it. Who knows,” he added with a wide eyed whisper, “it may open The Door.”
Aelle stood up. “I’m glad you think this is so interesting but I don’t think it’s funny at all. The law is in place for a reason, as you both very well know.” She marched off.
“She’s really angry. Maybe we shouldn’t do this,” said Rhuun without much conviction.
“Her friends at Court don’t like you anyway, this will give her something to complain about,” said Ilaan with a grin. Then he sobered and said, “This is all thanks to my father, I’m afraid. Aelle wold never say she wants the High Seat – that sounds a little too…head chop offy? Shall we say?” Rhuun had to admit she’d never put it that way. “She will say, and does want you to follow your mother. That’s the Natural Order of Things According to Aelle. But also she wants you where she can keep an eye on you. If you set off an a grand adventure, so do her plans – and I’m afraid Father’s plans have become her plans. Not that she doesn’t care for you, you know she does. But maybe we ought to keep this between us.”
Rhuun thought, A grand adventure which leaves her behind. Just like her father’s been doing her whole life. But if I really could…
“If I could really go there…” Rhuun was no longer thinking of Aelle or her plans at all. “I’ll bring you the book tomorrow.”