Showing posts with label sample chapters. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sample chapters. Show all posts

Saturday, August 03, 2024

The Secret Humankind Sale and Other News!

 Table of Contents

The Secret Humankind Sale!

 

 

The Secret Humankind Sale Graphic

From 8/1 to 8/7/24 The Secret Humankind – Book 1 of the Discoveries of Julia Xero will be on SALE! This will get you ready for Book 2’s arrival!

 

 

Kara Release!

 

The prequel novelette called Kara is now available in Kindle and Kindle Unlimited!

Kara - The Discoveries of Julia Xero Prequel Novelette

She’s part of a hidden race. Her coming-of-age transformation doesn’t go as planned. Lost and alone will she remain trapped forever?

Kara has never felt such panic. She’d always known she was part of the Secret Humankind and now that she is of age that she’d go through the Change and become an adult. But her parents didn’t warn her that it would hurt this much or have her waking up in the middle of a forest all alone.

Kara tries to make her way out of the unfamiliar woods, desperate to get back home to those she loves. That’s when she finds out her very essence has been tied to a tree, and wandering too far from it will mean her death.

Can Kara find a way to reunite with her parents, or will she remain tethered until she rots?

Kara is the heart-wrenching prequel novelette of The Discoveries of Julia Xero urban fantasy series. If you like plucky heroines, difficult choices, and origin stories, then you’ll love Gloria Oliver’s emotional journey.

Grab your copy of Kara to find your way to freedom today!

 

The Secret Aftermath Sample Chapters are up!

Yes! You can now get a taste of Book 2 of the Discoveries of Julia Xero – The Secret Aftermath! You can read the sample chapters online or download them to read on your favorite device. See all the options here.

The Secret Aftermath

 

The Secret Aftermath’s release date is 8/13/24 for the ebook and paperback! The ebook is on Pre-Order here.

A twenty-year-old secret lies revealed. Someone wants it reburied at any cost. She’s now marked for termination with extreme prejudice.

Julia Xero is in shock. At twenty-two, the introverted orphan found her dream job cleaning up after the dead and even acquired a family worth staying and fighting for. The semi-stuck-up hidden race she works for doesn’t take the news that she’s not entirely human well, but Julia stubbornly stands her ground despite one of them “shockingly” trying to kill her outright.

Remanded into her employer’s custody, Julia is desperate to skip past these inane distractions so she can concentrate on stopping the true danger—a plot to neuter a large portion of humanity without their consent. More than willing to kick ass and take names, Julia obstinately pushes forward despite the realization that someone can’t abide her very existence.

Can Julia stay alive long enough to discover and stop her new nemesis while keeping her newfound family from becoming collateral damage?

The Secret Aftermath is the fast-paced second book in The Discoveries of Julia Xero urban fantasy thriller series. If you enjoy close calls, digging for secrets, and do-or-die heroines, then you’re in for an unearthed treat in Gloria Oliver’s mystery adventure.

Grab your copy of The Secret Aftermath to uncover more hidden truths today!

 

Enjoy!

Saturday, June 03, 2023

The Secret Humankind - Chapter 01

The Secret Humankiknd — Book 1 of the Discoveries of Julia Xero Urban Fantasy Series
The Secret Humankiknd — Book 1 of the Discoveries of Julia Xero Urban Fantasy Series

Blurb:

She keeps her head down and cleans up messes. When the body count starts rising, will trying to make a living get her rubbed out?

Julia Xero is stuck in survival mode. After losing the only person she loved, the introverted orphan longs to escape her toxic employment for the zen of crime and trauma scene decontamination. But when she lands her dream job and is called to a bloody rooftop with a decapitated corpse, she’s horrified to come face to face with an otherworldly shark-toothed assassin.

Furious to learn she’s been enlisted by a clandestine race of beings against her will, Julia’s dismay fountains when she finds out they implanted her with a neck bomb to ensure her lips stay tightly sealed. Fit to be tied, and her thunderous confrontation with her boss hitting a deadend, the stubborn young woman begins plotting ways to leave the energy-powered entities in her dust.

Can she outwit an ancient civilization before her carotid goes boom?

The Secret Humankind is the gritty first book in The Discoveries of Julia Xero urban fantasy thriller series. If you like fish-out-of-water heroines, complex worlds, and dark truths, then you’ll love Gloria Oliver’s multi-faceted mystery.


Chapter 01

I’m so busted!

The DART bus came to a stop and opened its doors, its familiar squeal and whoosh propelling me to my feet. I hustled out into the baking Texas sun, oppressively aware I was late for my shift. But rather than break into a run to make up time, I paused and looked around nervously, my hands and feet feeling twitchy.

What I was searching for, I had no idea. But what my friend Laurel had dubbed my ‘spidey sense’ had been blaring for the last couple of days, on and off. It didn’t help that I’d had the nagging feeling I was being followed and watched since I’d left the apartment that morning. As ridiculous as it sounded, my hunches were rarely wrong about this type of thing. I just didn’t have a clue what was setting them off.

The sun continued to glare down at me, waves of heat from the sidewalk making the air ripple. I could feel sweat already gathering in my armpits and lower back.

No one was around, unless you counted the old tom cat licking his furry leg and acting like I wasn’t even there. The doors huffed shut behind me and the bus clattered away, spouting clouds of foul-smelling exhaust.

I took another look around and slipped one hand into my pocket to grip Stitch, my five-and-a-half-inch folding switchblade. If trouble arrived, I would be ready to prove it had made a bad decision in coming after me.

Still spotting nothing and no one that shouldn’t be there, I finally broke into a jog and headed toward the Golden Corral. The familiar red-and-gold logo soon loomed before me, forcing a change in my mental gears as I approached my daily battlefield.

I opened the door and faltered for a moment, the sudden slap of cold air robbing me of breath.

“Harry, she’s here!” Melody’s sing-song mockery blared through the restaurant.

I cringed, and turned to spot my coworker at the double register near the entrance. Melody had just heralded my arrival to the one person I’d hoped to avoid. A smug look and a small inflating gum bubble met my glare.

“Julia! You’re late.” The heavyset shift supervisor rolled into view like an approaching train about to go off the rails.

“I know, I know. Sorry! The buses were off schedule. Some big wreck on I-35.” I avoided making eye contact. If Harry got going, he’d keep me from clocking in for another half hour. Losing the cash and being dressed down in front of customers wasn’t my idea of a good start to the day, which had been lousy enough already. I hurried past him to the employee area in the back of the restaurant.

Melody’s giggled snort followed, her bubble gum popping for emphasis, as I scurried away like a coward. I couldn’t afford to lose this job. Not yet.

Ever since I had applied for the third-shift job at Remington Safe and Clean, things had felt ‘off.’ If she’d still been alive, Laurel would have said I was just being paranoid—that these were only feelings brought on by the scary prospect of the awesome possibilities that would open up for me if I got the higher-paying job.

Even though I knew what she would have said, I still wished I could talk to her. I missed Laurel terribly, and felt a flicker of anger at her for dying. Yes, I was well aware she hadn’t wanted to die—but being a tiny bit mad about it was easier than giving in to the bottomless despair I felt at her loss.

Laurel Caine… Just thinking her name made me sad. She had been more than my caseworker—she had been my only real and constant friend during my formative years. And Laurel had believed in my ‘spidey sense’ even more than I did. It had caused me some problems when I was very young, but Laurel taught me to see it as a good thing. She’d always been a glass-half-full type of person. As a social worker, it was pretty much a requirement if you wanted to survive the job.

My spidey sense was a skill I had developed while growing up in foster care. Some would call it hyperawareness or hypervigilance, even though sometimes there was nothing around to trigger it. All I knew was that I trusted it, even if I didn’t always understand it. Laurel’s curiosity about it had never waned. She’d wanted to find a way to bottle it and share it with some of her other clients—a few who needed more help or common sense than she could give.

Once I’d turned eighteen and been turned loose by the system, Laurel had made sure we stayed in touch; we’d meet every two weeks or so. To me, she was family—my only family. I was seven years old when I met Laurel, and for fifteen years the woman had been the only unchanging thing in my life. But that had ended twelve months ago, when a brain aneurysm had unexpectedly taken her life. I never even got a chance to say goodbye before she passed, though I did still visit my friend occasionally at the cemetery.

I changed into my work clothes, pushing the depressing thoughts away. I stashed my shoulder bag in the locker, but pulled out my prepaid cell before locking the door. Wondering why I even bothered, I slipped the phone into my apron pocket. The people at RSC wouldn’t be calling me back—they wouldn’t give me the crime-scene cleaning job. I needed to set my sights lower if I wanted to escape from this place.

The realization was as bitter now as when I’d left the posh RSC offices in downtown Dallas a few days ago. It’d made it twice as hard to get moving this morning, to choose to willingly come to my dead-end job and put up with the endless aggravations. But I had to eat, and I had to pay rent. So that was that.

I checked that my mousy straight brown hair was still neat and tied back, that my plain face was clean, and that the company shirt and apron were on straight. There was no point in giving Harry more to complain about. At least Melody was stuck at the register. That was for the best, even though I knew she’d end up making a mess of the till. But working the register would keep her from coming over to my assigned area, sniffing around for things to tattle on me about. If only Melody would pay as much attention to her work as she paid to finding fault with others! But her thick, shining, blond tresses and protruding double-Ds kept the skank employed, much to everyone else’s continued misery. Harry had a type.

My serving area was on the restaurant’s other end, past the grill house and dessert stations. I waved at a couple of the cooks as I walked by. They weren’t close acquaintances, only fellow stalwart soldiers eking out a living in this unfriendly landscape. The scents of roast beef, fried chicken, and other foods mingled in the air. The melted contents of the chocolate fountain were already cascading, filling the air with their cloyingly sweet scent.

The day wore on, the cell phone in my pocket growing heavier by the hour and staying as silent as I had known it would. But at least the paranoid feeling of being watched had gone away.

“Something wrong, Julia?” An older woman leaned out on her cane and looked up at me sideways from behind a pair of rhinestone-studded glasses that matched her dark blue day dress.

“No. Everything’s fine, Mrs. Conrad.”

Mrs. Conrad was one of my regulars. A bit peculiar, but kind and friendly—just how I had always imagined my grandmother would be, if I’d had one. “Just have a few things on my mind today.”

“Come now, call me Roxanne,” she said. “We’ve known each other long enough to not bother with all that.” Her dark eyes were alight. “Could it be boy trouble?” Mrs. Conrad set two quarters on the table, her face hopeful.

“No, no boy trouble. Sorry.”

The wrinkled face sagged a little with disappointment. “You’re such a sweet girl. You should have a boy. If you would only smile more…”

I tried to oblige her, though it wasn’t my thing. This was a topic we had covered before, much like her wanting me to call her Roxanne instead of Mrs. Conrad. The fact that I wasn’t interested in having a relationship with a man, and felt no need to ingratiate myself to others with unfelt smiles, only seemed to encourage the old lady. “I’ll keep it in mind. Promise.”

Mrs. Conrad smiled up at me. “See, such a sweet girl.”

I walked with her as she shuffled along, making sure there were no wet spots or anything that she might trip over. A high shriek warned me of the careening five-year-old running between tables. I used my body to block him and keep him from running into the older woman and send her tumbling to the floor. Someone her age might end up with a broken hip—or something worse.

“Hey, kid! Watch where you’re going, please!” The boy bounced away, never even slowing down. He left three streaks of chocolate on my apron as a parting gift. The little git. His parents never even looked our way, much less ask him to stop running. I fought the urge to sigh.

As we neared the exit, the odd sensation of someone staring hard at me returned. I glanced in Melody’s direction, figuring it must be her this time. But the cashier was talking animatedly with one of the other regulars about the virtues of black light-enhanced nail polish. I half-turned as I opened the door for Mrs. Conrad, but couldn’t spot anyone looking in my direction. Still, the feeling hadn’t gone away.

“Julia!” Harry shouted. “Shut the freakin’ door and quit letting all the A/C out. You think we’re made of money?”

I stepped back inside and let the glass door close. Just my luck—money was the one button I never wanted to push with Harry. I plastered a contrite look on my face. “Sorry.”

“Prove it.” He loomed over me, the heat and stench coming off him worse than what was outside. “Get your ass back to work before I dock your pay.”

The sound of a plastic plate hitting the ground and bouncing around snapped his attention away from me. Harry stomped off to wave his arms around and yell at anyone who looked even one percent responsible.

Melody snorted, enjoying my embarrassment and discomfort. “Why do you waste your time on that old biddy, anyway? She tips for shit.”

Why, indeed? But then again, why not? I would be old, too, someday. Having someone watching out for me in my dotage would be nice.

Besides, I was pretty sure the small tip was more than Mrs. Conrad could afford. She only came twice a month, and ate as much as she could stuff down her gullet. And she always requested more rolls than she ate—but none were ever left behind. Making sure Harry and Melody were none the wiser was one of my few joys in life. I knew what it meant to go hungry, and I wouldn’t wish that gnawing feeling on anyone.

So I returned to my work area, not bothering to answer Melody’s question. She wouldn’t have understood, anyway. Melody stared daggers at my back for ignoring her, but thankfully, hers was the only stare I sensed, and it was one I was quite used to. But enough was enough; I needed to get out of this place pronto.

I went on break a while later, still feeling down and no closer to a solution. I jumped when the phone in my apron pocket rang loudly for attention. My hand dived for it. I could have sworn I set the thing to vibrate. If it had gone off while I was on the floor…

I shook my head and answered the call. “Hello?”

“Is this Miss Julia Xero?” The unfamiliar female voice had an undercurrent of a strange accent and sounded very young. I didn’t recognize it, but she said my last name correctly—the same pronunciation as zero—which was unusual.

“Yes, I’m Julia.”

“This is Dawn Anghelescu from Remington Safe and Clean. You filled out an application with us a few days ago for the open third shift position, I believe? We’d like you to come in for an interview and testing if you’re still interested.”

I blinked twice, sure I had heard her wrong. “Really?”

“Karamel gave you her stamp of approval, and everything else seems to be in order.”

The RSC’s receptionist had been something of a shock. The petite woman behind the boat-sized reception desk had literally squealed in utter delight when she learned I wanted to apply. She had even rushed around the desk to grab my hand. Apparently the office didn’t have many female employees—but the intensity of her reaction had still felt totally weird.

A touch of amusement filled the woman’s voice, almost as if she knew what I was thinking. “I believe you’re what we’re looking for in an employee. But this type of job isn’t for everyone, I’m afraid,” Anghelescu said. “The practical test will prove if you’ll be able to handle it.”

My spidey sense rang out louder than before. I couldn’t think of a reason why it would do that about a job, but I decided it didn’t matter. It wasn’t like it was a done deal, and if by some miracle I did get in, I would deal with any fallout then. Because at the moment, no matter what my gut told me, working anywhere else would be better than here.

***

Coming 7/20/23 in Kindle and Paperback! 

Review ARCs available at StoryOriginBookSirens, and BookSprout


Sunday, May 16, 2021

Black Jade Cover Reveal Plus!

 



The cover above is for my latest novel called “Black Jade – A Daiyu Wu Mystery.” The first book in a new series of cozy historical mysteries! (Uhm, my first ever series, too. So nervous about that part! Lol.) 😄


Awesome art and cover by the talented Charles Bernard!


Here’s the back matter:


Could an old-fashioned ballgown be used to commit murder?

Daiyu Wu is aware that fear of the Yellow Terror has made her nationality a rare breed in the Lone Star State. Being Chinese and blind makes her doubly unique in 1930 Dallas. Despite these impediments, anyone who dismisses her for either fact does so at their peril.


One day, at her family-owned laundry business, Dai detects the scent of burned garlic. With the help of her companion, Jacques, the source is soon discovered. It is a green ballgown. The gown has money pinned inside it to pay for the cleaning, but oddly, it came with no address label to identify its owner. Her extensive knowledge leads Dai to believe someone has committed murder using arsenic. The perpetrator is trying to use White Laundry to hide the evidence. But no mention of foul play turns up in the newspapers, and there’s not enough proof to convince the police there’s been a crime.


Her curiosity and intellect stimulated like never before; Dai ignores the possible consequences and sets out to solve the mystery with the help of her canine companion, Prince Razor, and her confidant, Jacques Haskins. It’s either that or let the killer get away with it — assuming a spoiled popinjay, his jealous self-appointed girlfriend, and Dai’s overprotective parents don’t get in her way.


A Daiyu Wu Mystery – Book 1


It is currently LIVE for Trade paperbacks (long story), and on pre-order for ebook editions. Reviews are coming soon!

Trade - Amazon https://www.amazon.com/dp/1733951164

Kobo https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/black-jade-a-daiyu-wu-mystery

B&N https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/black-jade-gloria-oliver/1139321955

Apple https://books.apple.com/us/book/x/id1564384317

Kindle https://www.amazon.com/Black-Jade-Daiyu-Mystery-Mysteries-ebook/dp/B094PXSNPS

Smashwords https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1080675


Here’s the first chapter to give you a taste! laughing

Black Jade – Chapter 1

“Jacques, I need you!”

My copy of the Dallas Morning News twirled to the floor as I jumped to my feet. The rare emotions in the summons made my pulse race. It wasn’t often that my companion felt either surprise or excitement, and I’d just heard both. “What is it, Dai?”

“Can you smell it?”

Daiyu was the only child of the immigrant Wu family. She was also the principal reason for the continued success of White Laundry. My companion wasn’t what anyone would expect. She was more of a ‘doll’ than most women called by the moniker could ever hope to be. A mere four foot eight, she was a tiny thing—but assuming that was all she was would be a grave mistake.

“Lye? Soap?” I had no idea how anyone could smell anything else in here.

Dai half-turned on her stool, her dainty gloved hands on her lap. “Garlic, Jacques. I smell burned garlic.”

Her straight black hair fell to just above her shoulders. It was untouched by the finger waves currently in fashion, so there was nothing to detract from its silky fall around her heart-shaped face and almond eyes. Her skin was the color of yellowed porcelain, but the bad lighting in the crowded work area made it seem darker, like transparent yellow amber. A line of perspiration trailed down her long neck, the only sign that she was bothered by the laundry’s oppressive humidity. Her opaque teashade glasses sat ignored at their assigned spot on the worktable, along with the chemicals and powders she mixed for the family business. Her meticulous efforts and her enhanced sense of smell gave her family’s company an edge over the few remaining Chinese laundries in town, and placed them at an even more significant advantage over the American ones. The glasses themselves were more to ease other people’s discomfort than her own. She did not need them. Dai had been blind from birth, her unseeing eyes almost silver and possessing no pupils. Most thought the sight of them disturbing. To me, they were anything but.

“Do you see any garments colored bright green?” Dai’s excitement rebounded in every word.

I was used to being her eyes. It was the main argument she’d used to win her parents’ permission to keep my then seven-year-old self, whom she discovered following her at Dallas City Park. She’d been only eight, her mind already sharp and looking to the future.

“Yes. It’s a ballgown by the looks of it. It’s still hanging with the recent arrivals. Should I fetch it for you?”

“No, don’t!” Dai shook her head. “Not without first donning gloves. No one should let that fabric touch their bare skin.”

My eyebrow rose. What were we about to get into?

As commanded, I found a thick pair of workmen’s gloves and fetched the gown. It was an old-fashioned evening dress, all gossamer and lace. Not something typically found in Texas—more like New York or London, and at least thirty years ago, at that. I hung it nearby, making sure it wouldn’t accidentally touch Dai.

“That’s the one. Surely you can smell it now, can’t you, Jacques?”

“I’m sorry, Dai, I can’t. You know my nose is nothing compared to yours.” I smelled no garlic and had no inkling why that would be a concern, or how it had led her to the conclusion that the gown’s color would be green.

A sharp bark near Dai’s feet drew our attention as her second companion left the comfort of his pillow. Another mongrel she’d picked up off the street, and as loyal as myself. At a guess, I figured him to be a Scottish Terrier and Pomeranian mix. His owner had abandoned him as a pup in the streets as money became scarce everywhere.

“No, Prince Razor, you mustn’t get near it. Sit.”

He did as she asked. Prince set his small paws neatly before him, and his expressive brown eyes watched her every move.

“Jacques, is there a ticket pinned to it?”

I checked. There was one, although… “It’s blank, but stamped paid.”

“Really? How curious.” The timbre of excitement in her voice grew. “Here, run this swab over the dress. Hold your breath while you do it, just in case.”

Still wondering what this could be about—and growing more nervous about it by the moment—I ran the swab down the length of the gown, then deposited it into the test tube she held. “What now?”

She gave me a teasing, coy smile. “Now we go to the lab.” With a spring in her step, Dai grabbed her teashade glasses and led the way, knowing every nook and cranny of the establishment. Prince scouted ahead, in search of any errant mice who dared be in the vicinity. We passed several of the Chinese workers at the vats. They stared as we walked past, but as usual, said nothing. A superstitious lot, many carried charms with pictures of gourds, long believed to be capable of warding off or protecting the bearer against evil. The workers touched them whenever she drew near—despite the fact they owed her. If not for Dai, there might not be a business to employ them or homes purchased in their names so they could stay in the country. But she was both blind and female and had been allowed to live and thrive. Expectations and traditions practiced even in these modern times would have called for Dai’s death when she was born—particularly since she was female and the family had no male heir. Even though from the time of Confucius the blind were supported in court as musicians, her parent’s social class would not allow them to keep a child with such reduced status. But Dai’s mÇ”qÄ«n had lost all her other children before they were born, and hadn’t been able to stomach the thought of giving up the one who’d made it through.

Going against convention and escalating social pressure were two reasons her family had abandoned all they knew, including their property and lofty status, to come to the land of the free. It was a fact they never spoke of, but one Dai never forgot. Yet even those who came to America to seek freedom from the class restrictions in their country still viewed her continued existence with fear. That she would not be shackled by her blindness somehow made her an abomination and therefore evil.

Dai’s “lab” was located in a small corner of the cellar, which housed the bottom section of the laundry’s large vats and pipes. It was damp and dark—not that the latter made any difference to her. But it kept others out, giving her privacy for what most considered unladylike pursuits. A hanging bulb had been added for my benefit, along with a hatch to make the room light-proof.

Prince dived under the table to keep watch back the way we’d come.

“I believe I have everything we’ll require.” Her hands ran over the small shelves in the corner, grabbing beakers, an oil lamp, and glass tubing.

“Required for what?” I mopped at my sweating brow.

“Why, to test for arsenic. What else?”

Arsenic? She thought the dress had poison on it? “Why would you ever think such a thing, Dai?”

“Please, Jacques—you read me an article on this just last year. Don’t you remember?” She set a stopper in a flask and attached a glass tube to a funnel, which she then placed through one of the two holes on the stopper.

“My memory is far inferior to yours. As you so often enjoy reminding me.”

“Why, yes, you’re right. I do rather like that.” She flashed me an impish grin. “But we digress. You see, arsenic was used before the turn of the century to create the color green in fabrics. But manufacturers weren’t always conscientious about the amounts used in their dyes. Fatal cases were rare, but many consumers suffered health issues because of long-term exposure. Workers dyeing the textiles at the factories even more so.”

More tubing led to a U-shaped vessel, which continued to another lengthy stretch of glass pipe clamped over the oil container of the lantern. “What is all this for?”

“Depending on its current oxidation, arsenic is odorless and, at times, colorless. So detecting it proved difficult for many years, until a brilliant man came up with the Marsh test. An ingenious and effective method of determining the amount of arsenic in the flesh, body fluids, and more.” She ran her hands gingerly over the apparatus she’d made, double-checking her work. “If you’ll place the swab into the beaker, I’ll add the zinc and acid. By heating the mixture, we will further oxidize the arsine in the arsenic.

“Once that happens, please hold the ceramic bowl over the ensuing vapor. Then we shall see what we shall see.”

Dai added the ingredients to the waiting flask. As the chemicals reacted with one another, I held the bowl above it. After that, applying heat to the container caused a silvery-black stain to appear.

“Did it stain?” she asked.

“Most definitely.” It was black, dark as death.

Dai nodded as if she had expected nothing else. “The color and density of the stain are used to pinpoint the concentration of arsenic present. Unfortunately, it’s not something I’ve dabbled in, so I’ve no data to compare it against. The pathologist should have access to a copy of Marsh’s guide.”

Prince Razor barked in agreement. Dai’s excitement was becoming contagious.

“We must find out which of our employees handled the dress and have them wash off any residue right away. Also, have them turn the fans on high. We’ll want to cycle the air as much as possible. Arsenic can convert to a gas, and since I detected the scent of a reaction, it’s likely some got released upstairs. We were lucky a bit of the arsenic wasn’t fully oxidized, so it reacted to the heat and the humidity here. Otherwise, we would have never known something was amiss. Whoever left the gown didn’t count on Texas temperatures.”

She paused for a long moment. I said nothing, still trying to digest all she’d just told me. Then she added, “Before that, please bag the bowl and the dress, as we must bring them with us. We’re going on a field trip!”

“A field trip? Where to?”

“Why, to see the justice of the peace, Jacques! Where else?”

 

Want more? Click here for all sample chapters and also downloads in your favorite format to read them in. 😎

Wednesday, April 09, 2014

Jewel of the Gods - Chapter 3

(Last one!)

Previous Chapters - Chapter 1, Chapter 2




Jewel of the Gods

Chapter 3

Red sat up, a scream scratching at his throat. Cold sweat beaded his brow; his body shaking from the unbelievable nightmare. No more spiced foreign mead for him—never again. It wasn’t worth this.

His gaze focused, and he realized he didn’t know where he was. There was no scent of salt, or the sound of lapping waves against the hull. Instead of a berth and wooden walls, he found himself in a narrow room made of sandstone. Light trickled in through the rough doorway and showed him he was sitting on a woven mat covered by a thin blanket.

He gasped as the realization the nightmare might be real splashed over him. Not wanting to, yet finding he possessed no other choice, Red looked down at himself. The body he saw was not his own.

Everything was smaller, more delicate. He wasn’t even a man anymore—a quick, awkward check of his attributes brought home that fact like an anchor dropping at port. The only thing that felt normal was his hair, which was still as red and thick as ever. He also still had his hard-earned tan, the pale skin he’d been born with tending to burn and its current state a work of long years. His arms and legs were well defined from doing heavy work but still seemed different because of the packaging.

It was as if his mother had given birth to a girl instead of a boy.

The woman Ylis’s final words echoed once more in his head—You are what you could have been had your fate been different.

His mind revolted against such a thing being possible. Panic gathered at the corners of his soul. His breathing grew labored, and the room started to spin.

“No!” Red smashed his small fist against his thigh. He focused on the pain, glad he could feel it, knowing fainting would gain him nothing. But what was he going to do about this madness?

A shadow filled the doorway.

“Ah, I see you’re awake.”

Red shot to his feet, recognizing the figure only too well—it was Ylis. The thin blanket covering him fell forgotten to the floor.

“You witch! Why have you done this to me? Change me back right now!”

Totally ignoring his outburst, she inspected his naked form from top to toe.

“The transformation was a total success. You feel healthy, yes? Nothing hurts?”

Red took a step toward her, his bare feet slapping against the cool stone floor.

“None of that matters. Change me back this instant!”

Ylis stared him dead in the face, her expression calm. “I will not.”

Heat flushed through Red as his anger flamed to rage.

“You will!” Despite his nakedness and the fact he had no weapon, he threw himself at her. His center of gravity wasn’t quite right, but this was only a fleeting thought in the far reaches of his mind. He wanted his life back, his body back, and this woman was denying it to him.

Ylis flowed forward, her sleeves flaring as she expertly intercepted him in mid-leap, flipped him, and thumped him down hard, one hand behind his head to keep it from hitting the floor.

Although his back and buttocks stung from smacking the stone, Red heaved with all his might to get back up. Ylis’s open palm smashed into his midriff, driving out all of his air.

“Calm yourself. Violence will gain you nothing.”

Red was in no shape to comment. He struggled to regain his breath, glaring his displeasure at her, since he could do little else.

“Your new condition will not be permanent.” She stared at him, concern clearly showing on her face. “Please listen to what I have to say. You’ll then understand why things have come to be as they are.”

She let him go and backed away then sat down cross-legged at the doorway. Still wheezing, Red turned on his side and slowly sat up. His new body was weak. He wasn’t sure just exactly what kind of fighting style the woman had used on him, but it shouldn’t have been this easy for him to be overpowered. If he’d had his real body, it wouldn’t have been. Or so he kept telling himself.

The situation only got worse by the moment.

“Say whatever it is you have to say, witch. But it’ll change nothing.”

“Thank you.” Ylis nodded in his direction and tucked her hands into her sleeves, as if trying to reassure him.
Red reached over for the discarded blanket and wrapped it about his lower half to keep his skin from the chilly floor.

“Just get on with it.”

If she got distracted enough with her tale, perhaps he’d get a chance to have at her again. His shape might be different, but he still knew how to hurt people. She’d caught him by surprise before.

Ylis nodded again then seemed to take a moment to gather her thoughts before beginning.

“A very delicate situation has arisen in Syrras recently. A tragedy has occurred, one which should never have happened. Which I should not have allowed to happen.” She paused for a moment, a fleeting look of pain crossing her face. “I am Grand Magister Ylis. I serve He Who is Most Honored by the Gods, Orthos Cloaustrain Lorraxia Tumil.”

The string of names meant absolutely nothing to him. “Who?”

The magister’s brows gathered for a moment.

“I believe his position would be equivalent to your term of king.”

Red barked a laugh, surprised by the answer.

“And servants of the king just go around kidnapping foreign sailors and turning them into girls? For what? His Royal Pleasure?”

Ylis’s face lost all expression.  Her voice turned cold.

“His Magnificence is dead. Including you, there are only four people in this world who are aware of that grievous fact.”

This brought Red up short, all thoughts of violence momentarily forgotten.

“You’re not making any sense. What does that have to do with me? And with this?” He pointed at his changed body, shrugging off a shudder as he was forced to acknowledge the changes yet again.

Ylis raised a hand to forestall any further questions. Red was glad to note there were no drawings on her palm, especially of creepy blinking eyes.

“The Highest of the High died in his sleep less than one of your weeks ago. She Who Sits on the Most Honored’s Right, Lyara Orthos Tumil, discovered him thus before the servants arrived to awaken him. She contacted me immediately, and I was able to ascertain the Most High didn’t die of natural causes, though it very much appeared so. I am still working to identify the exact poison used to arrange his demise.”

Red shook his head, his face twisting with distaste. Poison was a coward’s weapon. He’d once seen the effects of Bane’s Blood on a fellow sailor who’d boasted a little too much about his conquests to the wrong ears. White foam had filled his mouth and fallen from his lips as blood blossoms formed all over his face and arms. He’d fallen twitching to the floor and within minutes breathed no more. It was a ghastly way to go.

“If it left no external trace on the body, how do you know it was poison?”

Ylis’s brow rose.

“I am a magister,” she said, as if this were the only explanation needed.

“I see…” He changed positions, finding the hard stone quite uncomfortable. Ylis never moved, appearing to be able to maintain the same pose till the end of time. It annoyed him. “I still don’t see how this has anything to do with me.”

“The death of His Magnificence must be kept secret for the time being. However, those involved in the original poisoning will realize something hasn’t gone as planned as all they continue to hear is that the Most High has taken ill. They will surely attempt something else, so there is very little time to find the truth.

“At the moment, the Most Blessed is doing her utmost to keep things balanced and the Most High’s true condition secret. Yet the Most Blessed needs to be kept safe, and the culprits need to be found. The majority of my energies, however, are diverted elsewhere, so alternate means to do this had to be found. This is why you’re involved.”

Red could say nothing for several seconds, totally stunned.

“What? Are you saying you did this to me because you need a lousy watchdog to sniff out the killer and protect the queen? What about the royal guards? You must have plenty of people who work for you that are more than capable of solving the crime!”

Ylis shook her head. “It is not as simple as that. Please understand, we have no idea how the Highest was poisoned. He was surrounded by his most trusted people at all times, yet it was done. It was even likely committed by one of them.” Her gaze locked with his. “Too much is at stake due to matters I don’t have time to speak of now. As things stand, we can afford to trust no one. Only to a person such as yourself, who has never been here, who has little to no knowledge of our people or our city, someone who is not involved, dare we risk giving our confidence.”

“If a stranger is all you needed, then why all this? Why change me?”

The left corner of Ylis’s lips curved up.

“This has not been left to mere chance. Through meditation and spells, the All guided me to you. And who would believe someone who looks like you do now capable of much of anything? It is to our advantage.”
Red stood up, holding his blanket tighter about him, humiliated by her words despite the fact this new body wasn’t his.

“You’re insane.”

She nodded, conceding the fact.

“The change is also something that can be held over you, to force you to cooperate. Trust can always be bought away, but not if there is something the person needs, something the other side cannot possibly provide.” She stared at him intently, obviously interested in how he would react to this.

Red felt his anger returning.

“Kidnapping, extortion—you think these tactics are going to make me want to help you?”

She shocked him by bowing to the floor.

“I endanger everything by telling you what I have, for though it may seem as if I have the upper hand, the wrongs I’ve done you will only restrain you so far. Once we leave here, it would be nothing for you to spill our secret and bring us all to ruin before I could stop you.”

He stared at her bowed head in surprise, already having decided he would do whatever he could to get away from her. Screaming what she’d told him out at the top of his lungs had definitely been an option. Someone out there would understand him. And she was aware of it, yet had taken the risk anyway. It only served to make all this even more confusing.

“We are desperate, or we wouldn’t be doing as we are. There is much you do not know or understand, and as I've said, I have no time to explain. The longer we remain here, the longer she is alone and the greater chance there is our charade will be discovered.”

“Change me back and I might consider helping you. I might even keep silent about the things you’ve told me.” He knew he had no real leverage to make her do anything, but he hated having his hands tied. This whole thing was ludicrous. It made no sense they had to go to extremes like this.

Ylis straightened back up and slowly shook her head.

“I cannot. The energy and preparation for what was done to you took days to put together. The divinations to uselessly try to determine who did the deed and then to find you have drained me even more. I am at my limit.”

She stood up. For the first time, Red noticed the faint dark circles under her eyes, the lines of strain on her face.

“All I can give is being diverted elsewhere.” She lifted her robe off her right leg, where an incredibly complex set of drawings wound up her flesh, continuing past the raised hem. What that spell was for, he had no idea.

“Only once the current trouble has been averted will I be able to change you back.”

Red frowned, not sure if he should believe her. Aside from being vague, her explanations sounded contrived and convenient.

“I swear by the One Spirit and the All you shall be as you were once the threat is past.” Her gaze locked with his again. “But that will only happen if you help us.”

None of it made sense. Even as she denied him, she begged for his trust and aid. Was the situation worse than she'd said so they couldn't risk trusting anyone without strings? He'd seen enough backstabbing in the merchant business to know words only bound most men as long as it was convenient.

His mouth turned further down. He liked this less and less.

“Your gods mean nothing to me, but hear me and hear me well. I will help you, and if, by the heavens and earth and all the gods and people in between, you don’t come through on your word, there is no place in this world or the next where you will be safe from me.”


And if, in the meantime, he found a way to get out of this without having to wait for her, so much the better.


Fantasy Novel coming late 2014 or early 2015 from Zumaya Publications.
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