This is where I shall share some of my whimsies. Hopefully someday soon I will get them published.
At the moment, I am editing my first completed novel (one in a series of two at the moment). It is entitled:
It is about a land divided by different people and settings, with an unknown fear of the North and an unspoken terror of what lies in the center. Outcasts from each tribe are inexplicably drawn to each other and sent towards the very North they fear, while on the way, realizing they might have the powers to save their world.
It is a fantasy for young adults. I wrote it last year during NaNoWriMo. I wrote it because young adult fantasy is my favorite pleasure read and I was out of things to read. I wanted another good story to get lost in and decided to make one of my own. I can't wait to get started on Palladin, the sequel.
Here's a peek:
None of the other women had noticed the change in the elderly lady’s demeanor yet, as they were still busy congratulating the other girls. Whimsy, confused, didn’t know how to respond. Grande Dame Thelma grabbed her by the wrist and propelled her forward with more strength than Whimsy could have given her credit for possessing. They were both outside the lights of the town square before she even realized that she was moving. When they soon reached the line of willows that surrounded the village at the West Gate, Whimsy abruptly turned to face the elderly lady and was startled at what she saw.
No longer did the Grand Dame look like a gentle gray haired grandparent who always had something sweet about her person. Her eyes were not just fired with passion as before, but now they were filled with what Whimsy was certain was actually hate, although she thought it was not exactly directed at her. She seemed taller too somehow, as if a new important purpose had possessed her body and made it suddenly younger and stronger.
“Whimsy. It stands as I told you earlier. You must decide now. Something has happened to force your decision before the allotted time. I regret that, and there are so many things that I wish I could explain, but you must be ready if it has already been allowed to happen.”
Now Whimsy was really frightened.
“Grande Dame Thelma. What are you talking about? This doesn’t make sense. Look. The sun has set. I’m going to miss the First Dance. Please, Grande Dame, let’s go back. You’re tired.”
“Oh child, I am so sorry. But you must run. Now! Take this path and follow it to the base of Mount Pallabra. Be sure to stay only at its base and go no further up, but follow its base west and then north until you meet the others. They should be starting their own journeys there as we speak. This will take you into the farmlands of Pallat, but be careful who you speak to there. They have no love for Ferngndallads. Wait until there are four of you and then you will know how to proceed. Quickly child. Here is a pack I have made ready for you with what you will need on your journey. Now go.”
Something in the otherworldly tone of the old lady warned Whimsy that this was not the time to argue, that something was very wrong and she must obey immediately. Disobedience was not in her nature. She liked the structure and security of rules and knew how to follow when one was so dramatically given. Like one enthralled, she took the pack that was offered to her, slung it over her head and shoulder, and turned to look down the path that Grand Dame Thelma had directed for her to take. It was dark by the cover of the thick trees and the setting sun, and something eerie seemed to lurk in the edges.