Lore: Tales of Myth and Legend Retold
Release Date: 03/2014
Summary:
A collection of six folklore retellings that will twist your mind and claim your heart.
SHIMMER: A heartbroken boy rescues a mermaid... but is it too late to save her?
BETWEEN is about a girl, a genie, and a ton of bad decisions.
SUNSET MOON: Eloise doesn't believe in Native American magic--until the dreamcatcher spiders spin her down an unknown path.
THE MAKER: An incapacitated young man bent on revenge builds a creature to do it for him.
A BEAUTIFUL MOURNING: The story of a Maya goddess torn between duty and love, and the ultimate sacrifice she must make to achieve true happiness.
THE BARRICADES: When a human girl risks everything to save the life of an Eternal prince, will their feelings for each other change the world they know, or tear it apart?
A collection of six folklore retellings that will twist your mind and claim your heart.
SHIMMER: A heartbroken boy rescues a mermaid... but is it too late to save her?
BETWEEN is about a girl, a genie, and a ton of bad decisions.
SUNSET MOON: Eloise doesn't believe in Native American magic--until the dreamcatcher spiders spin her down an unknown path.
THE MAKER: An incapacitated young man bent on revenge builds a creature to do it for him.
A BEAUTIFUL MOURNING: The story of a Maya goddess torn between duty and love, and the ultimate sacrifice she must make to achieve true happiness.
THE BARRICADES: When a human girl risks everything to save the life of an Eternal prince, will their feelings for each other change the world they know, or tear it apart?
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Shimmer
by Brinda Berry:
Draven Manning watched the naked female wade into the inky
waters of the Gulf of Mexico.
Silent as a hermit crab, he sat on the sand hidden by tall
sea oats and studied her petite body, long hair thickly draped to the waist.
She held a backpack, an odd addition to her nakedness, which she dropped on the
sand. He could have loudly cleared his throat or walked back up to the house.
But he didn’t.
Not that he was a total creeper. She’d appeared from nowhere
like some magical mist formed in a female shape. The wind lifted strands of her
hair away from her body increasing the otherworldly feel of the scene.
He continued to watch and acknowledged that wishing he could
see better or had binoculars did fall into creeper territory. His friends
always talked about what a nice guy he was. Maybe he didn’t want to be a nice
guy.
Being the nice guy had landed him here in this tiny Gulf
Coast town with his dad for the summer. He had no choice, because he couldn’t
stand to look at the people he’d trusted. They had betrayed him, and he’d
pretended it was no big deal. He lowered his forehead to his bent knees and
pulled air into his lungs. A deep exhale steadied the shaking. He was eighteen,
not eight. It was time to man up. Move on with life. Forget what had happened
and quit feeling sorry for himself.
For a week, he’d strolled the beach by himself. In the
daylight hours, families cluttered the sand so he waited for nightfall. He
always returned to this spot on the sand to sit and think. He could’ve sat on
the deck with the same view, but that’s where his dad always sat and smoked
cigars.
His dad would already be in bed at this hour.
The girl swam farther and farther out to sea. Her moonlight
swim went beyond his seeing range. She was far enough out that he couldn’t tell
if a glint on the water might be her head or a fish or a buoy. She had to be an
excellent swimmer.
Clouds moved across the moon to dim his view of her even
more. A gust of wind blew sand into his face. He jumped from his spot and ran,
his bare feet pounding on the packed sand. He saw the crashing wave deliver her
body to shoreline and teasingly pull her back. Why hadn’t he noticed that she
was in trouble?
He stomped into the chilly ocean. “Shit.” His jeans sucked
up the water and clung to his legs. “Shit, shit, shit.” Waves pushed against
his thighs, whipping him off balance until he braced himself for the tide.
She floated face down with her hair billowing out in thin
tentacles. He grabbed her upper arms, flipped her body, and pulled her to
shore. Her lower body dragged in the sand, so he picked her up. She probably
didn’t weigh much, but her limp body sagged as he carried her like a sleeping
child.
Out from the tide’s reach, he placed her on the sand and
pressed two fingers against her neck. Not dead. Not dead. Not dead. But not
breathing, either. He couldn’t remember the steps. His heart slapped against
his chest like paper caught in moving bicycle spokes. People learned CPR just
in case. He never expected to actually need it. He squeezed his eyes shut,
heard Coach Vorlosky’s calm instructions, visualized each step, and began chest
compressions.
One push, two, three, four…one push a second how many times?
Maybe thirty. He’d barely passed the test and wished he’d paid more attention.
“You better not die. I’ve had a shitty week. Come on, come on.” Her head lolled
to the side. He grabbed her chin, tilted her head back, pinched her nose,
covered her mouth with his and blew.
He hovered above her mouth to see if she breathed. Strands
of long, dark hair draped over her face. He brushed the hair out of the way and
started again. On his fifth round of administering CPR, he glanced around for
help, which wouldn’t happen at 2:00 a.m. on a deserted strip of beach in the
middle of nowhere.
Her loud gasp, sounding like the reverse of a balloon losing
air, startled him.
She turned her head to the side and coughed out water.
“What…” She coughed again.”…do you think you’re doing?”
He barely heard her. The girl must be out of her mind, which
would explain why she thought a night swim by herself was a good idea. “Saving
you.”
“I didn’t need your help,” she muttered.
He scooted back on the sand several inches—his heart
starting to slam again—and rubbed his face. Sand coated his hand and clung to
his eyelashes. “Not the way I see it.” His voice sounded strangled and loud.
She sat up and pulled her knees to her chest. Anger flashed
in her eyes. “What’s your deal?”
“You weren’t breathing.” He wiped dripping water from his
forehead with the back of his hand. “I was scared that you’d…never mind that
thought. You’re alive.”
“Um hmm. Sure am. Back here on the shore whether I like it
or not.” She was all hair and limbs with her arms wrapped around her knees.
Author Bios:
Brinda Berry:
Brinda
Berry lives in the southern US with her family and two spunky cairn terriers.
She's terribly fond of chocolate, coffee, and books that take her away from
reality. She doesn't mind being called a geek or “crazy dog lady”. When
she's not working the day job or writing a novel, she's guilty of surfing the
internet for no good.
Find
Brinda at www.brindaberry.com
Karen Y. Bynum:
Dragons, unicorns, genies…oh my! NA/YA author, coffee-lover, olive-hater, tea-drinker, music-listener. Random becomes me. Easily distrac— Blog
Laura Diamond:
Laura Diamond is a board certified psychiatrist and multi-published author of all things young adult paranormal, dystopian, and horror. When she’s not writing, she is working at the hospital, blogging at Author Laura Diamond--Lucid Dreamer, and renovating her 225+ year old fixer-upper mansion.
Jayne A. Knolls:
Jayne A. Knolls lives and works in New York City. The Maker is her first published work of New Adult Fiction. Jayne can reached at JAKnolls@optonline.net
Theresa DaLayne:
My name is Theresa DaLayne and I’m a new adult author with Bloomsbury Spark, an amazing digital imprint of Bloomsbury publishing. Website
Cate Dean:
Hi there - thanks for checking in. My name is Cate Dean, and I write romantic suspense and paranormal, with some action packed YA paranormal and fantasy thrown in. I love to write, and I have been doing it most of my life. I've made up stories in my head for as long as I can remember, and I am thrilled to be able to write them down and share them with you. If you want to be the first to know when the next book is released, or be in on some fun, exclusive contests and giveaways, join my list here: http://catedeanwrites.com/join-my-list. You can learn more about me and my books at my website: http://catedeanwrites.com
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