Please welcome Meghan with her book Spirit Binder to The Mystique!
Book One of the Cascadian Chronicles
Genre: Fantasy: Paranormal, Epic, Historic
Spirit Binder is a fantasy set a thousand years after spirit (aka magic) rises to take back the world in an apocalyptic event. It is book one of the Cascadian Chronicles.The first book of the Spirit Bound young adult series, TIME WALKER, will be released in the fall of 2012.
Theo woke severely injured, covered in blood, and missing ten years of her life. Just to complicate matters further, Theo was born under a prophecy; one that has rabid followers with three different interpretations, all of whom are willing to sacrifice her in order to fulfill it.
Not knowing if she can trust the stranger she’s betrothed to, the warrior visiting her dreams, or even her own mother, Theo tries to piece together her past only to find that her present is far more dangerous. It’s the power of her own blood that scares her most of all. This is a responsibility Theo never wanted, and a destiny she cannot deny, “All because of a prophecy she was trying not to believe in, but kept fulfilling.”
Keywords: fantasy, magic, swords, troll, castles, love story, romance, post-apocalyptic, prophecy, spirit, love triangle, destiny, blood
A little later on, it might have been weeks for all she knew, she made it to her feet, more because her knees were hurting too badly to carry her any longer, rather than any great achievement on her part.
She still couldn’t see in the dark. She found handholds, smoother edges in the rock walls and practically pulled her upper body forward until one of her legs was forced to kick in and step forward to prevent a possible forward fall.
The tunnel, that was her best estimate as to where she was, started slanting upwards, which didn’t make going forward any easier, but led her to believe she was close to something; an exit hopefully.
Just a sliver, but it hurt her eyes.
She reached for it, with her hands this time. She wasn’t stupid enough to reach for unknown light with her mind; lots of magic masqueraded as light. Plus, her hands were vaguely working again.
Her hand covered the light; she spread her fingers and realized she might be feeling a crack.
The light filtered in through some sort of crack.
She continued to trace the crack, and after eons, her brain informed her that she might have found a door of some sort, though not a handle.
She felt like it was time for a break, and leaning next to the little crack of light seemed appropriately calming, so she did just that.
Except the crack didn’t stay in place. The weight of her body widened it, and she found herself stumbling forward into a room.
A room filled with a lot of books.
She seemed to have just come through a bookshelf, which was a little strange and obvious all at the same time.
“Oh, darling!” a woman gasped. “We’ve … I’ve been searching … you’ve come home!”
A woman stood behind a large desk. Everything about her was perfectly poised, from her smooth, bobbed hair to her fine, but simply cut, silk dress. She removed a pair of reading glasses to reveal eyes that were almost too green. Despite her words, the woman didn’t actually look all that surprised to see her ‘darling’ coming through the bookcase.
“I have?” She couldn’t remember, except that she was fairly sure she should’ve been fairly easy to find, if she’d been missing at all, in the secret tunnel behind the bookcase. Wouldn’t that be the first place to look?
“I shall call the healer; you’re bleeding on my carpet. Yes, I know it’s annoying that it insists on covering that section of the library floor; it seems to revel in being a tripping hazard, but, none the less, your blood is too valuable to feed such common beings.”
The woman skirted the desk and moved toward her. Every cell in her body suddenly screamed at her to move, to run, or at least to attack, but she was incapable of doing so. Something was wrong here. Or, something was supposed to be wrong here. Something about this woman? Other than the obviously dyed red hair. No one had hair that dark red naturally, did they? It actually matched the ruby necklace nestled at the woman’s neck.
The woman stopped a few feet away. She might have been in her late forties, but could have been younger. The power that emanated from the woman was painful, and she actually convulsed when it brushed against her. The woman looked a little aghast at the discomfort she caused, and somehow pulled all that power, power that seemed too vast to contain, back inside of her. The convulsions stopped.
“Sorry, darling. I forgot how sensitive you are.” The woman reached a tentative hand out to her, but didn’t move forward to complete the touch.
“My head hurts.”
“I know dear, but it will get better. It will all be better now that you are home.”
That was it.
This was home.
She hadn’t recognized it until her mother had pointed out that fact, but now she understood. This was where she’d grown up. She’d had friends and teachers here, and her mother …
“Yes, darling, someone took you away, but I’ve got you back now. Everything will be fine now.”
She decided now would be a good time to kneel again. The carpet rose up to break her fall.
Her mother called out for help, yet she wasn’t distressed. No, even in the haze that coated her eyes, she could see her mother’s satisfied smile. Which was a bit odd, wasn’t it?
Other people soon arrived. Her mother never did touch her, though her hand hovered over her forehead a few times, and she, huddled in the hovering carpet, gave in to the ministrations of hands and magic that felt familiar, yet distant, like tasting something in memory.
“Theodora, spirit-predestined, daughter of my blood, is home,” her mother, rather formally, announced. There were murmured answers, but she couldn’t distinguish the words.
That was her name.
Funny, it didn’t sound right. As if it didn’t belong to her.
Only later did she remember she’d been wrong about the Slurper creature. It had been cleaning from the inside out.
She also remembered she wasn’t to address her mother as ‘mother’ or ‘mom’, but as Your Majesty or, in private, Rhea, but she noticed her mother hadn’t seemed to mind being addressed incorrectly.
Then, she succumbed to the welcoming darkness.
About the Author:
Meghan Ciana Doidge is an award-winning writer based out of Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada. She has a penchant for bloody love stories, superheroes, and the supernatural. She also has a bit of a thing for chocolate, potatoes, and sock yarn; though not all together, that would just be yucky.
Author blog: http://www.madebymeghan.ca
Book page (on blog): http://wp.me/PP9tA-iG