Coryn of Bellsferry: Blood Thieves -Chapter 5: Unexpected Guests

Hunter aesthetic! 

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Coryn Aesthetic!

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Chapter 5 of Coryn of Bellsferry: Blood Thieves is here! Check it out on Wattpad!

“I shivered, despite the summer heat. What if something happened to me? What if the Blood Thieves got to me? What would that do to my daughter, losing the person closest to her? She barely knew Gunner and Dixie. She’d be devastated and scared, and the security and joy of her childhood bubble would burst and she’d be thrown into the dark, confusing maze of this dangerous world. Death was banging on all of our doors, especially mine and Krista’s, and who knew when it’d break through and seize its loot. It could happen tonight…”-from chapter 5

Chapter vibes:

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Coryn Aesthetic!

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SYNOPSIS TIME!

“With long snaking roads enshrouded by dense woodland and only smatters of clarity along the rolling hills, the beautiful countryside of Bellsferry was the perfect place for predators to stalk.” Coryn knows fate when she’s pricked by it–she thinks.

In a world where American law has been overthrown, and wanna-be supernatural, self-made vampires exist–who by the way, are really creepy and demented and have started preying on the small town of Bellsferry–there also exists Coryn, a twenty-three-year-old single mother who’s just trying to survive through life–and give her daughter a somewhat decent one. But when Coryn is taken under her gunslinging neighbors’ wings and something…otherworldly happens, forget decent; she and her daughter’s lives are now even more dangerous than before. Sigh. That’s what happens when you accidentally become the only real nemesis to the deranged psychopaths who have iron-gripped your hometown.

Since before the demolition of law, Coryn grew up surviving through life, but now she has to protect not only herself and her seven-year-old daughter, but their entire town–doesn’t she?

 

Have you been following along? If so, what are your thoughts so far? Got a WIP you’re working on? Are you on Wattpad? Let me know! Happy reading! -Natasha

What is it about a book’s first page that keeps you reading?

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I’m curious:

What is it about a book’s first page that keeps you flipping?

Are you able to share an example of a book whose first page just grabbed you and held on until the last page? I want to know what book did that for you and why. Then I can go Amazon-“Look inside”-stalk and see if I agree with you or not. 😉 Happy discussing!

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You can read ALL of Prodigy Prince on Wattpad – Limited time only!

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That’s right, folks.

You can read all of Prodigy Prince on Wattpad for a limited time.

Check it out. And if you’re diggin’ it, don’t forget to vote (click the little star icon). And PLEASE DO divulge on me, let me have it, share those blazing thoughts of yours as I do take to heart, mind, and keyboard, what you think. Feedback has helped loads in my writing journey, and I’m excited to share this novel with all of you. Happy reading!

Fantasy Friday! “He Peered At Me” – Through Elisena’s Eyes (Short Story) : Part 1, Ch. 3-4

*Click here to read chapters 1-2 if you haven’t already.

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He Peered at Me

6th of the Days of Warmth

Distractions are harder to dust off than I’d previously planned. Especially when they are a handsome, hard-working, six-day-a-week presence. And when I’ve given so much thought and attention to them for so long. Too long.

Eldin was here today, working on the farm with Father and Javin as always. However, today was different. Very different. From the outside, no one would notice the change. But being able to see inside, changes happen more often than you think. Some for the better, others for the worst. Today, it was both.

Father prepared to collect chump—chewed grass made savory and nutritious by the saliva of gurns—from our oldest gurn, Magenta. She had apparently swallowed more than she could chew because before Father could grab the pail to catch the chump, Magenta vomited grass the size of her head onto his lap. He called in Eldin to catch whatever chump remained, then Father went inside to clean off.

Did I mention Father had me brush leakers from Magenta’s fur? I tried desperately to ignore Eldin’s heart by overly concentrating on scraping off a giant, oozing leaker from Magenta’s rear, but then the change happened.

The usual loyalty, diligence, joy, kindness, and compassion poured from Eldin’s heart in warm waves that ignited my mind with thoughts of King Nifal, but I realized the horrible feeling of pity wasn’t prickling my skin. Sadness hung, heavy in the air. But bewilderment changed to curiosity. And then reality slapped me in the back like a pleased Gavrailian. Eldin hadn’t attempted to chat with me as he always did. He sat as quiet as I’d been since he replaced Father in chump-collecting.

I removed my stare from the stubborn leaker and looked over at Eldin, seated on the stool, pail in hand, catching chump. But he wasn’t just catching chump. He was peering at me, observing me as if I were some mysterious artifact.

My skin tingled. My stomach flopped. I never held gazes with his shimmering, deep purple eyes. They infiltrated my soul, making my knees weak, and heart pound.

I scraped so hard, brown leaker-insides splattered onto my face. I dropped the brush, my cheeks burning.

Eldin jumped to his feet and removed a handkerchief from his back pocket. He tried handing it to me, but I was so embarrassed, I just scurried out of the barn as Javin was entering with a pail of water. I crashed into him, drenching us both.

“Elly!” Javin grabbed me by the shoulders, his eyes lilac, mirroring the concern and anger consuming his heart. “What happened?”

“Nothing I—”

“What did you do to her?” Javin released me and strode toward Eldin. “Did you touch her?”

I bustled after my hot-hearted brother. “Javin, he didn’t do anything.”

“Really, Javin?” Eldin set his pail on the ground. “You think I would ever harm Elisena?”

“That’s ‘your sister’ to you,” Javin said.

Eldin smiled, yet anger kindled in his heart. “Elisena is much more than just ‘your sister.’”

Javin stepped close to him. “Maybe to our family, but not to you. So don’t you dare even think of—”

“Of what? Being her friend?” Eldin stepped forward as my heart ached at the mere friend response, while every inch of me cringed at the swelling anger in him and big-mouthed Javin.

Eldin continued. “You aren’t her father so you should stop acting like one.”

Javin shoved him. Eldin staggered, knocking over the pail of chump. Javin swung his fist. Eldin dodged and then rammed into him, sending them both tumbling to the ground.

Eldin raised his fist.

“Please stop!” I screamed. And cried. Eldin peered at me again. Remorse.

He lowered his arm, rose to his feet, and walked out of the barn.

I have a feeling more distractions are on their way.

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Did My Calling Just Knock?

11th of the Days of Warmth

Eldin hasn’t been back. It’s going on day four of his absence at our farm. Father said, “It’s best to give the boy space to forgive.”

Meanwhile, I am needing my own space to forgive Javin. Papa-twin is banned from roto-flying and has twice more work to do until Eldin returns—if—Eldin returns.

I pray Javin would at least attempt to work on his trust issues. He and Father are two unhealthy extremes in the trust arena. Despite all he’s been through, Father is quite trusting. Whereas Javin is the complete opposite. He doesn’t even trust Father because of how trusting Father is. It’s a deep-rooted heart issue that began when we were seven.

Father and Javin sat outside shearing the new purple fur that had grown on our youngest furth, while Mother brushed my hair in the cottage fore-room. I used to enjoy going on adventures around the farm. We own a few acres, and Ollander and his wife always let me venture into their land.

They have two big slinkpaws; a fluffy black male and an orange-spotted female. Rina, the female, loved to play with me. I’d hide and she’d come skulking. With a playful growl she’d pounce and we’d roll around in the grass. That day we actually rolled down a hill. My adventures always left a tangled mess of brown curls, but because of the hill-smashing, the knots were worse, and Mother had to untwine sticks and grass.

The brush caught on a knot. Mother cussed and yanked. Anger speared from her heart like a dagger into mine. She yanked again. More cussing. I started to cry.

“Well if you didn’t act like an animal and play with those beasts, you wouldn’t have this ugly, wretched hair!” She pulled so hard the brush broke.

I wailed. Mother threw the brush on the floor, strode to the closet, and shoved the curtain aside. Rage, disappointment, and something even more horrible suffocated the air. She snatched her satchel off a hanger and stormed out of the cottage, leaving the door open. She screamed at Father. I ran to the entryway and peered outside.

Mother stood across from him while he held back Javin with one hand, the other grasping Mother’s. “Lillian, please. Let’s go inside and talk about this.”

“Oh, now you want to talk!” She shook her hand free. “You’ve had years to get to know your own wife, but you put this farm before me.”

“I work for you, for our children.”

“Stop. Just stop it. It’s too late. You’re too late.” She turned to the right. Alongside the cottage, three sibling rotos and their mother drank from a water tray. She marched in their direction.

Father released Javin and trailed Mother.

“Mama!” I jumped off our wrap-around porch and raced to her, Javin following suit.

Anger, disappointment, and self-pity bombarded my seven-year-old frame, poisoning my thoughts. Good for nothing. How could he? I want nothing to do with him. 

Mother hopped onto the mother roto. She screeched and flapped her red wings.

I reached up and clasped Mother’s calve. “Mama, where are you going?”

Javin gripped the roto’s feathers. “Stay, Mama! Stay.”

Father’s voice trembled. “Lillian, don’t do this. Please. We need you.”

Grasping the reins, she looked down at Father, and something I didn’t understand then consumed her heart. “You need me. What about love?”

A crushing weight of defeat and jealousy shrouded Father’s broken heart. Tears spilled from his purple eyes. “Clearly, you know nothing of love.”

She kicked the roto’s side. She leapt into the air and they soared away.

From that day forward, Javin never trusted anyone, but me. We were the victims. We were the ones abandoned. Our own mother traded us for what she believed was love and chased that fantasy to another town. Word traveled fast about her adulterous relationship with a married man of seven children.

Father couldn’t protect us from that betrayal, but Javin believes he can spare us from another. And so he behaves accordingly, keeping people at a distance or pushing them away. He certainly shoved Eldin hard. I guess it was an answered prayer. No distractions now. Which reminds me…

Today is Invitation Day. All the gifted in Zephoris who have been chosen to attend Knight’s Elect Academy will receive a letter of acceptance and invitation. No one gets to apply to the academy. They have only to wait for the letter and choose to accept or reject it.

With all the thoughts of slapping Javin or pushing him into roto waste, I hadn’t thought about this day. Well, I somewhat forced it from my mind. How could my gift be used to serve the people of Zephoris? Knights are strong and intimidating. I’m short, somewhat hefty, and shy.

It’s hard to imagine King Nifal would want me to become a knight. I’m clumsy with a sword at best and downright hazardous at worst. Ask Javin. The scar at the end of his eyebrow and descending his cheek is a consequence of my terrible swordsmanship. After that epic failure, he and Father never let me lift a sword again.

One moment.

Hmm. Javin’s anxiety level is tearing through the walls of my bedroom and prickling my entire body. Even Father’s nerves are leaking in. Now intense anger from papa-twin. He’s yelling at Father. I’ll be back.

Back.

Javin received an invitation to Knight’s Elect Academy.

And so did I.


Click HERE to read part 2!

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Fantasy Friday! “None Of Us Have Destinies, But We Do Have…” – Through Elisena’s Eyes (Short Story) – Part 1, Chapters 1-2

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This is the first “chapter” of Part One of Through Elisena’s eyes. It’s written in journal format. In part 2, we are taken to first-person past-tense point-of-view and the setting takes place at Knight’s Elect Academy. I’d love to know your thoughts so feel free to leave a comment. Happy reading!

The journal of Elisena Dillion 

Village: Rockey Valley in Jazerland

Part One

In Case You Care…

1st of the Days of Warmth

My name is Elisena. I will be seventeen soon, and I live in the rigid yet beautiful mountains of Jazerland, the land of the faithful. But lately, faithfulness to our dear Supreme King has been slowly replaced with rebellion, though no one’s brave enough to say it—yet. But I could read their hearts—quite literally.

Some would call it a gift and some, a curse. I deem it both, though it has always leaned more toward the cursed side. You see, when I see into people’s hearts, I know not only what they are feeling, but what they are full of…

Take my neighbor, Ollander. He is a tiny little man, about the size of a three-year-old boy, but he has more courage than a dragon. Laneth Crag and his eight boys at the edge of the mountain think Ollander is, “all mouth, no moves,” but they are in for a surprise the next time they scorn him. His heart has been patient, but that patience is thinning. All week he’s been entertaining revenge and believing it’s justice, but truly, he just wants to prove to his wife that even though he’s smaller than her, he is brave.

Reading his heart is usually refreshing, but there’s some hearts I wish I were blind to…

Like Eldin Lightsmith’s.

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None of Us Have Destinies, But We Do Have…

3rd of the Days of Warmth

It’s heavy on my heart, but I know it’s true:

I do not have a destiny. But I do have a purpose. I just don’t know what it is yet.

Having a destiny means no matter what you do, or don’t do, you will accomplish what you were created to do, even if accidentally.

This is a grave lie. It’s easier on the heart, certainly, but it’s dangerous. I refuse to allow any lie to hold me back from fulfilling my purpose.

See, if I believed in destiny, then I can just sit back and let it happen. But if I know the real truth, that I have a purpose which must be sought after, then I have a target to hit.

I know my gift wasn’t an accident, but I have the choice, the free will to choose how I am going to use it. Although I am certain seeing into hearts isn’t just for my personal knowledge, and there has to be some greater purpose for it, I haven’t discovered that calling yet. This nagging why will not leave until I find the answer.

So I will continue seeking. I will continue knocking. Somehow, I will awaken to my purpose and use it for a greater good. And I am preparing now.

My first task in finding my purpose: remove all distractions. I must stop walking within range of Eldin’s home so I can peer into his heart. It’s too painful and it’s wrong. With most people, seeing their hearts is second-nature, but sometimes, I choose to see more, to focus rather than look away.

Peering into Eldin’s heart is my greatest temptation and greatest source of pain. He’s too good. Don’t mistake me; he is certainly not perfect—none of us are—but Eldin’s heart is unlike anyone’s I have ever known.

True, not many people live this high up the mountains, but our nearest marketplace is always crowded. That’s why I despise going. Crowded places means hundreds of conflicting desires and fears and feelings and love and hatred drowning my heart and thoughts.

I cringe thinking about my first melt-down. It’s bad enough I’m a little on the heavier side, but since our village is so small, everyone remembers the strange daughter of Ronen dropping onto the dirt ground in the middle of the marketplace, crawling into a ball while quaking and sobbing. Worst of all, Eldin was there.

He works for my father, tending our rotos and other creatures, and had joined us and Javin, my twin brother/second father, to the marketplace for extra-sensitive feather-wash. The flocklings of our mother roto are allergic to nearly everything but humans.

Well, Eldin had just returned with a basket-full of glass-contained wash. “Hey, do you know where Mr. Dillion and Javin are?” He’d asked.

“No.” It was the only word I’d spoken to him that day. And it was a lie. Of course I knew where Javin and Father were. I could sense Javin’s anxious brotherly/fatherly love, worrying about leaving his “baby sister” alone for a few minutes so he could help Father get new saddles and reins for the flocklings. They were only twenty yards away, though their hearts quickly disappeared in the sea of others.

First, a wave of excitement and awe—no doubt from all the surrounding children—crashed into me. I stumbled.

Eldin nearly dropped the basket of glass containers. “Elisena, are you all right?”

Another wave. This time, impatience and frustration. I staggered again. Eldin grabbed my arm and steadied me. “You look ill. Let’s find a seat—”

And then a tidal wave. Excitement, awe, impatience, frustration, happiness, sadness, jealousy, envy, adultery, hatred. I could no longer hear or feel Eldin. Confidence, arrogance, manipulation; feelings I’d never felt before drowned me. And I collapsed beneath the black ocean of hearts exposed.

Eldin still pities me whenever I’m around; pity, sadness, bewilderment. Everything a girl never wants to feel from a guy she hopes to impress.

Though I don’t hope anymore. I don’t even dream anymore of a romance with Eldin. Fantasies are for fools and I refuse to fall victim to a broken heart.

So I hide. And seek; seek for my purpose. But I pray somehow it finds me—soon.


Read the next part here!

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