Snippets are story excerpts from the latest works in progress, and stories soon to be released.
The Winter Queen's skin was neither transparent like that of the Ice People, nor opaque white like that of the Snow People. Rather, it was colorless, like that of a human woman who had rarely seen the sun. Her frosted, pale hair was wrapped in pearls of ice and studded with glittering six-pointed flakes of snow. A long coat of white fur brushed the blue snow, and opened at her throat to admit the sight of a glittering diamond pendant. If she truly were a thousand years old, no age marked her face or frame. She seemed young, perhaps Enrin’s age.
She was utterly beautiful. Next to her, Enrin suddenly felt ungainly and common.
Enrin knew her face. She had seen it once, just before the plane had crashed.
The Queen’s eyes—blue like a glimpse of spring sky—traveled over the company. She seemed neither malevolent nor kind.
“Welcome to the Winter Kingdom,” the Queen said softly. “I am the Winter Queen. Whom do I have the honor of addressing?”
Enrin and Laska cast each other perplexed glances.
“Don’t,” warned Esheya in a low voice. “She is treacherous.”
From Beyond the Void
As the Void swallows the world of the Seasons, Enrin and Laska seek for a salvation that lies beyond the ancient Songs.
The Professor was already in the library when I entered, reading by the light of a vintage-style (though electric) lamp. I stopped, turned in a complete circle once, twice, and stared.
“What’s the matter with you, boy?” the Professor grunted, casting a stern glance over his reading glasses at me. “Haven’t you ever seen books before?”
“Not like this,” I replied. It was like a library out of a picture book. The room was longer than it was wide, and at the end of it, the entire wall was of glass, and provided a second-story view of the southern landscape, where an old bridge spanned a winding stream that bisected the gardens. And the books! They covered the two length-wise walls from floor to ceiling, with the topmost shelves accessed by a ladder that slid from side-to-side by means of rails along the shelves. A coiling staircase accessed a second level of books, with a railing that wrapped around the room and overlooked the tables and chairs of the lower level.
Professor Vine interrupted my thoughts with a snort. “Stop being so melodramatic.”
From The Code of Camelot
Robin's dream to study dragons in the wild leads he and his mentor into a feud that began over a thousand years ago, in the court of Camelot.
Niyeen glanced behind and measured the distance between herself and Barepset. He still lagged, over an arrow’s flight away. Impatient, Niyeen spurred her horse up the slope of a dune that seemed to warp into liquid before her eyes.
Her gaze roved the sands, then narrowed. In the distance, the dark spire of the Kered tower interrupted the endless undulations of amber. On one horizon, the sky seemed smudged with brown. And a little below her, the sands glittered.
“It is here,” she said, and, swinging from the saddle, led her horse down the slope, and began to stir the sand with her feet.
“My lady…” Barepset said, as he crowned the hill.
“Help me dig.”
Reluctantly, the captain dismounted and obeyed. For a time, they worked silently, thrusting the toes of their boots into the sand and leaving shallow impressions. The cooler sand was darker, and the nearby dune offered some small shade, thus affording some relief from the heat of the naked sun.
Then a scrap of scarlet appeared where Niyeen’s toe had dug a moment before. In an instant, she was on her knees, scooping handfuls of sand away. Barepset paled, but, at her command, came to assist her.
The sand preserved what the creatures of open air would consume. A hand soon appeared, stiff in death, followed by a face.
“One of the soldiers,” Niyeen said soberly.
From Sand Jewel
Niyeen seeks her father's signet jewel in the treacherous Death Sands, and uncovers the secret behind her kingdom's unrest.
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