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Wednesday, January 28, 2015

Midnight Murmurings 2015: New Year Resolutions

"We will open the book. Its pages are blank. We are going to put words on them ourselves. This book is called Opportunity and its first chapter is New Year's Day."
--Edith Lovejoy Pierce


Even though 2015 is nearly a twelfth of the way over, it's never too late to discuss goals for the new year. As crazy as they may be, I am hoping that at least a few of them will get done, but, of course, we will see. Feel free to comment your goals for the new year. :)

I. Finish the first draft of my novel, the tale of a intricate young princess who deals with hope and rejection.

II. Write and complete the second draft of my novel. Unlikely, but I also hope to at least start writing the third draft, as well.

III. See the new Cinderella movie, which comes out March fifteenth. This will most likely happen between drafts.

IV. Watch the second Fantasia movie. I loved the first, but am very doubtful that Fantasia 2000 will be just as good.

V. Purchase the non-Kindle version of Five Enchanted Roses. Though I doubt that my novella will be included in this book, I am hopeful that my story might be included in the next fairytale collection.

VI. Start writing my novella for the next Rooglewood Press fairytale novella contest, which will probably mean finishing it, too, since I expect the due-date to be December thirty-first.

V. Finish reading The Latter Annals of Lystra by Robin Hardy. I love this series so much, having been introduced to The Annals of Lystra by a good friend.

VI. Finish reading Dragonwitch by Anne Elisabeth Stengl. I've been slowly making my way through it for the past few months, finding school reading assignments and lent books falling into my path. With finishing up Dragonwitch, I also hope to complete Tales of Goldstone Wood, altogether.

VII. Finally, read The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings by J.R.R. Tolkien. I have heard a lot about them, and really want to get the stories engraved into my mind. If possible, I would like to cram in C.S. Lewis's Narnia in, too.

And that's that. I'm sure that I'll think of more, but am hoping to get at least half of these goals accomplished. :)

~Olivia

Friday, January 16, 2015

Cover Reveal: DRAVEN'S LIGHT

This is certainly an exciting day! Why, might you ask? Perhaps it's just the fact that it's the weekend, or maybe it's that Anne Elisabeth Stengl's latest Tale's cover and description are going live!

(Draven's Light -- by Anne Elisabeth Stengl -- arrives May twenty-fifth, 2015. Mark your calenders!!)

Draven's Light: Official Cover Reveal!!


Drums summon the chieftain’s powerful son to slay a man in cold blood and thereby earn his place among the warriors. But instead of glory, he earns the name Draven, "Coward." When the men of his tribe march off to war, Draven remains behind with the women and his shame. Only fearless but crippled Ita values her brother’s honor.

The warriors return from battle victorious yet trailing a curse in their wake. One by one the strong and the weak of the tribe fall prey to an illness of supernatural power. The secret source of this evil can be found and destroyed by only the bravest heart.

But when the curse attacks the one Draven loves most, can this coward find the courage he needs to face the darkness?

Read it!

If you would like to read this marvelous Tale, then click on the link below, or visit Anne Elisabeth Stengl's blog to enter the giveaway!

http://www.amazon.com/Dravens-Light-Anne-Elisabeth-Stengl/dp/1942379021/ref=sr_1_10?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1420992526&sr=1-10

Draven's Light Excerpt

He heard the drums in his dreams, distant but drawing ever nearer. He had heard them before and wondered if the time of his manhood had come. But with the approach of dawn, the drums always faded away and he woke to the world still a child. Still a boy.

But this night, the distant drums were louder, stronger. Somehow he knew they were not concocted of his sleeping fancy. No, even as he slept he knew these were real drums, and he recognized the beat: The beat of death. The beat of blood.

The beat of a man’s heart.

He woke with a start, his leg throbbing where it had just been kicked. It was not the sort of awakening he had longed for these last two years and more. He glared from his bed up into the face of his sister, who stood above him, balancing her weight on a stout forked branch tucked under her left shoulder.

"Ita," the boy growled, "what are you doing here? Go back to the women’s hut!"

His sister made a face at him, but he saw, even by the moonlight streaming through cracks in the thatch above, that her eyes were very round and solemn. Only then did he notice that the drumbeats of his dream were indeed still booming deep in the woods beyond the village fires. He sat up then, his heart thudding its own thunderous pace.

"A prisoner," Ita said, shifting her branch so that she might turn toward the door. "The drums speak of a prisoner. They’re bringing him even now." She flashed a smile down at him, though it was so tense with anxiety it could hardly be counted a smile at all. "Gaho, your name!"

The boy was up and out of his bed in a moment, reaching for a tunic and belt. His sister hobbled back along the wall but did not leave, though he wished she would. He wished she would allow him these few moments before the drums arrived in the village. The drums that beat of one man’s death... and one man’s birth.

His name was Gaho. But by the coming of dawn, if the drums’ promise was true, he would be born again in blood and bear a new name.

Hands shaking with what he desperately hoped wasn’t fear, he tightened his belt and searched the room for his sickle blade. He saw the bone handle, white in the moonlight, protruding from beneath his bed pile, and swiftly took it up. The bronze gleamed dully, like the carnivorous tooth of an ancient beast.

A shudder ran through his sister’s body. Gaho, sensing her distress, turned to her. She grasped her supporting branch hard, and the smile was gone from her face. "Gaho," she said, "will you do it?"

"I will," said Gaho, his voice strong with mounting excitement.

But Ita reached out to him suddenly, catching his weapon hand just above the wrist. "I will lose you," she said. "My brother . . . I will lose you!"

"You will not. You will lose only Gaho," said the boy, shaking her off, gently, for she was not strong. Without another word, he ducked through the door of his small hut -- one he had built for himself but a year before in anticipation of his coming manhood -- and stood in the darkness of Rannul Village, eyes instinctively turning to the few campfires burning. The drums were very near now, and he could see the shadows of waking villagers moving about the fires, building up the flames in preparation for what must surely follow. He felt eyes he could not see turning to his hut, turning to him. He felt the question each pair of eyes asked in silent curiosity: Will it be tonight?

Tonight or no night.

Grasping the hilt of his weapon with both hands, Gaho strode to the dusty village center, which was beaten down into hard, packed earth from years of meetings and matches of strength held in this same spot. Tall pillars of aged wood ringed this circle, and women hastened to these, bearing torches which they fit into hollowed-out slots in each pillar. Soon the village center was bright as noonday, but with harsh red light appropriate for coming events.

Gaho stood in the center of that light, his heart ramming in his throat though his face was a stoic mask. All the waking village was gathered now, men, women, and children, standing just beyond the circle, watching him.

The drums came up from the river, pounding in time to the tramp of warriors’ feet. Then the warriors themselves were illuminated by the ringing torches, their faces anointed in blood, their heads helmed with bone and bronze, their shoulders covered in hides of bear, wolf, and boar. Ten men carried tight skin drums, beating them with their fists. They entered the center first, standing each beneath one of the ringing pillars. Other warriors followed them, filling in the gaps between.

Then the chieftain, mighty Gaher, appeared. He carried his heavy crescent ax in one hand, and Gaho saw that blood stained its edge -- indeed, blood spattered the blade from tip to hilt and covered the whole of the chieftain’s fist. Gaher strode into the circle, and the boy saw more blood in his beard. But he also saw the bright, wolfish smile and knew for certain that his sister had been correct. The night of naming had come.

"My son," said the chief, saluting Gaho with upraised weapon.

"My father," said Gaho, raising his sickle blade in return.

"Are you ready this night to die and live again?" asked the chief. His voice carried through the shadows, and every one of the tribe heard it, and any and all listening beasts of forests and fields surrounding. "Are you ready this night for the spilling of blood that must flow before life may begin?"

Gaho drew a deep breath, putting all the strength of his spirit into his answer. "I am ready, Father."

Gaher’s smile grew, the torchlight flashing red upon his sharpened canines. He turned then and motioned to the darkness beyond the torchlight.

The sacrifice was brought forward.

--Anne Elisabeth Stengl, Draven's Light

About the Author



ANNE ELISABETH STENGL makes her home in North Carolina, where she lives with her husband, Rohan, a kindle of kitties, and one long-suffering dog. When she’s not writing, she enjoys Shakespeare, opera, and tea, and practices piano, painting, and pastry baking. She is the author of the critically-acclaimed Tales of Goldstone Wood. Her novel Starflower was awarded the 2013 Clive Staples Award, and her novels Heartless, Veiled Rose, and Dragonwitch have each been honored with a Christy Award.

To learn more about Anne Elisabeth Stengl and her books, visit anneelisabethstengl.blogspot.com.

Check it Out!

Again, if you would like to enter the giveaway for Draven's Light, -- which is the opportunity to possibly win one of three advance reader copies -- then simply visit Anne Elisabeth Stengl's blog for information. If you would like to purchase this Tale, then you can click here to find it on Amazon.



<3
~Olivia

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As of September sixteenth, 2015, this blog has been reformatted. However, all posts before that date have not been updated to fit the new format, and may not be as simple to read.

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