Fantasy Romance
“Absolutely not!” Alaric roared. “You are my sister. I will protect you.”
Claudia folded her arms over her chest. “I am a mage purple class.”
“All the more reason for you to stay here where its safe. Do you know what Ilyiosians do to mages?”
“I don’t care. I won’t lose you to them, too.”
War.
Claudia closed her eyes. Not again.
“I will join Prince Siegfried on the front lines. If something happens to me, it will be up to you to carry on the Whitecliff name,” her brother said.
Claudia wrapped both of her hands around his. “I am coming with you.”
Claudia paced as she thought through her prayer and found her brother alone in the great hall with an untouched glass of wine beside him.
“What’s wrong?”
He shook his head.
“Tell me.” Claudia crouched beside him. While he was almost ten summers her senior, she had been his confidant and voice of reason since Anton’s death.
“King Garon wants war.”
In honor of the release of my third book, my daughter wrote her own romance novel. She figured she’d learned a lot reading over my shoulder despite my protests.
I have warned you that she is precocious.
She wanted me to share it with you here. I think we may have another budding writer in the family.
Layla’s first day at preschool, she met a nice boy named Mig. She and he fell in love.
She met him in K5. She loved him a lot.
Layla is a secretary at school. She fell in love, unlike yesterday. The boy’s name is Mig.
(Four Years Later) Layla’s first day, she met him again. She liked him more.
Today they date. They want to kiss. So they do. They play Princess of the Dragon World.
When they were twenty-five years old, they married. They had fun at the wedding.
Thirteen weeks after they were married, they had a baby! They love it.
For a child more interested in Wings of Fire than anything else right now, she has an amazing grasp of the romance genre. Now, to keep feeding her Wings of Fire books and keep her out of my “open door” romance novel stash for as long as possible!
There were no spells in any of Claudia’s books large enough, powerful enough, to destroy all of Ilyious.
No matter how much she studied, how much she was willing to give up, there was no way to end the wars once and for all.
But she would not give up.
She closed her eyes and prayed to the Moon Dragon.
I sometimes enjoy taking my characters for a spin in the sandbox of my imagination.
I have a character that has been knocking around in my head for sometime. You met her in Knight of Valor, and while I have a hazy idea of where her future takes her, she’s very different from other characters I’ve written. To help me better understand her, I wrote a short story from her point of view.
Mara swept the first young Knight’s feet out from beneath him and shoved him hard with her shield. He crashed to the ground, and before he could roll away, she hit his breastplate with her sword.
A second Knight charged her, and she pivoted, letting his momentum in full armor carry him past her. As he tripped over the first Knight, Mara hit his back with the flat of her sword.
Two kill shots.
Both Mara’s.
Anything but a training exercise, and the two Knights of Valor would be dead.
There was laughter and teasing from the sidelines, but a quick look from Mara silenced the other Knights. “How long will any of you survive in the eastern provinces? A day? A week, at most?”
Knight Keenan helped the two younger men back to their feet. “We’re practicing. They’ll get better.”
“But not good enough.”
“Not all of us can be Sir Marcus,” the Knight Mara tripped growled.
Mara pierced the boy with her hard stare. “Sir Marcus spent his life training to fight a lich. You spent yours training to protect the safe streets of Tamryn. The difference shows.”
Knight Keenan cleared his throat. “We’ll keep practicing.”
Mara studied the assembled Knights, her gaze resting on each man in turn. “Anything you face in the eastern provinces will be alive because it’s survived worse than whatever haunts your nightmares. Do you think a wendigo gets knocked down during practice then toddles off to say a few prayers?”
The Knights stared back at her, and several of them were clenching their fists at their sides.
Good. Let them get angry. Better angry than dead. “Next lesson.” Mara motioned to a figure on the sidelines dressed in a plain brown cloak.
The woman walked over to Mara and bowed, then turned toward the Knights.
“Mage Skyla,” Sir Keenan said. “What are you doing here?”
“She’s helping me demonstrate a lesson,” Mara said. “Are your healers out here?”
Sir Keenan nodded toward Knight Matthias, but concern reflected in his pale green eyes. “Is this safe?”
“Less dangerous than sending out half-trained men.”
Knight Keenan glanced at Skyla then stepped back. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”
Mara glanced back at the woman in the robes. Her brown hair was tied in a simple ponytail, and her large eyes seemed too big for her face. She was easy to underestimate as so many mages were.
“Just like we practiced,” Mara said.
Skyla nodded and walked several sword lengths behind Mara.
“Do you think your Knights can beat Skyla and me?” Mara raised a challenging brow at Sir Keenan. “Or are you going to send them to their prayer vigil and hope Dracor gives them fighting skills?”
“I don’t want her to get hurt.”
“Not what I asked.” Mara smiled at the gathered Knights, a taunting expression meant to rile them. “Pick your best seven. If they can get three hits in before I get a killing blow on each of them, your god wins this round, and I will come back and help you train them until the new moon.”
Sir Keenan glanced at the recruits then back at Mara. “You called for a healer. What do you have in mind?”
“Don’t think seven of your Knights can get in three hits?”
“And if they can’t?”
“You owe Skyla and me a hellfire at Ndrek’s bar.” Not that Mara wanted one, but Skyla did if Sir Keenan was buying.
Sir Keenan stared from her back to the recruits. “Seven against you and Skyla?”
Mara nodded.
“Until the new moon?”
Mara nodded again. knowing she had him. He wouldn’t get her help until the new moon, but the young Knights would still learn a very valuable lesson.
“They could really use the practice against someone with your skills. You’re sure Skyla won’t be hurt?”
“It’s not her you should be worrying about.”
Mara fell into her battle stance, and she felt Skyla building the first spell as seven young Knights took their positions opposite her.
Sir Keenan signaled the start of combat, and Skyla let loose with the spell.
A wall of flames scorched the ground and rose up between Mara and the Knights. Mara ignored the fire, ducking her head as she charged through them and hit the breastplate of one of the Knights. Pivoting, she tapped the breastplate of a second before any of them had recovered their wits enough to close their mouths.
The remaining five backed away from the fire and Mara’s blade.
Just as she’d anticipated.
Skyla loosed her second spell, and the ground under the remaining Knight’s feet turned to mud.
Mara charged.
Slamming her shield into the first Knight’s sword, she shoved hard and sent him stumbling back then barreled into the second. Surprise widened his eyes, and when he tried to turn, he slipped in the mud.
Mara slammed his chest plate with her sword, and if it hadn’t been a practice blade, she’d have accidentally killed the Knight. Instead, she sent him into the mud with the first, whose chest plate she’d already hit.
Both young men would hurt, but the bruises would teach a lesson they wouldn’t forget.
The remaining three Knights extricated themselves from the mud as Mara circled around them. She smiled as one tried to flank her while the other two came at her. Sprinting towards one, she used her shield as a battering ram and knocked him to the ground as the second scored a glancing blow against her arm.
She pivoted and knocked his feet out from underneath him them hit his chest plate with her sword. Leaping over him, she tapped the Knight she’d steamrolled to the ground.
One Knight remained.
As he stared at her, black vines shot out of the ground and encased his feet, rooting him.
Mara circled around him, but he couldn’t turn to face her. She came up behind him and tapped the middle of his back.
There were growing whispers that the battle hadn’t been fair. That they hadn’t been warned.
Mara only smiled. “Combat isn’t about fair. Or justice. Or right and wrong. It’s about winning. In real combat, Skyla would’ve been using fireballs, poison clouds, and ice storms.”
The murmurs grew louder.
“You were so focused on me, not one of you tried to stop her. You’d all be dead now because of it. Never underestimate a mage.”
“Good lesson,” Sir Leopold said. “Well done, both of you.”
Mara felt the High-Knight’s faded blue gaze fix on her. She met his stare, her face impassive even as her stomach clenched. Tall and broad, the only thing that belied his age was the silver in his hair and the rank insignia on his uniform.
She wondered again what he’d feel like beneath her.
Stabbing the thought and leaving it to bleed to death, Mara handed her practice sword back to Sir Keenan.
She picked up her sword, inspected it, then sheathed it. “One hit to seven kills. See you at Ndrek’s.”
Sir Keenan nodded then hurried to check on his men.