So, I figured I'd post something from the novel that started it all.  Of course, it's also a novel that needs A LOT of editing, rewriting... and, to be honest, it needs to be picked apart for the best parts and rewritten completely.  Yes, it's THAT BAD, lol.  However, we haven't done that (though we really should at some point), but we do make references to events that occured in the novel and characters that appeared in it.  We also have a few show up in other novels, one especially, because they were such great antagonists.  The novel, Love's Betrayal.  It's all about how Xolyn met Aly and, despite being a fantasy novel, has a thick romantic subplot.  Well, to be honest, it wouldn't be a novel without Xolyn and Aly falling in love, lol.  It is also not only the introduction of Aly and Xolyn, but Xantos, also. 

Anywhos, this is the last bit in what should have been the prelude, instead of the first chapter. 

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Alyssiana walked silently through the tables, her cloak still pulled tightly about her. Her eyes swept the room, knowing that though she didn’t see any guards, they had to be there. As she neared the farthest dining room, the voices became louder. She could see a light beneath the doorframe. She paused before the door and glanced down towards the floor, one hand on the doorknob, the other on the dagger at her waist.


Head held high, she opened the door and stepped inside. Shutting the door behind her she brushed the hood back to reveal her face. All the men in the room turned to see who had dared to interrupt the meeting. Her grandfather sat at the head of the table, his silver hair pulled back with a leather strap. None had expected her save her grandfather, Xantos Davoryn Zaurahel, High Lord of the Royal House of DiSendra. She stood silently, as one of Xantos’s servants removed the cloak from her shoulders and withdrew from the room.

“Stop standing and sit, child. You’re wasting time.” Xantos’s voice was cold and emotionless.

“As you wish, Grandfather.” Alyssiana nodded once then walked around the table, aware of the eyes that followed her. Each man in the room had a gleam in their eyes and, though she knew her abilities, she was thankful for her position as Xantos’s granddaughter and not just another hireling. She slid into the vacant seat to the right of her grandfather.

Xantos raised his eyes from his ledger and glared around the table at the men before him. His expression was cold and daring. The men lowered their eyes back to the papers before them as Xantos slid a note to his granddaughter.

Alyssiana remained silent throughout the rest of the meeting and remained seated after they had left. The note remained on the table beneath her folded hands.

The silence that ensued was more than Alyssiana wanted to put up with. “Why did you summon me here, Grandfather?” She waited for a response, certain that it wouldn’t be something she would want to hear.

“You realize that by doing this…task…you are playing into his hands. My enemy: Your enemy. And he will exploit you further, given the chance.” Xantos made no effort to hide his displeasure.

“Considering all that I know you to be capable of, Grandfather, I can see why you are enemies. You are so similar in how you live, and do business.”

The elder Docelfar smiled coolly. His constant air of knowing more than everyone else, even if she had used that character flaw to her advantage from time to time, irritated her. Alyssiana braced herself, not sure if he would continue, or if she had finally found the breaking point. He could kill her, here, and no one would make a gesture to stop it.

“Even if your presumptions of me were correct,” Xantos began, “there is one divergence between us: I care for you, and consider your death to be an unpleasant event which should be avoided. He has no such discretion.”

Abruptly, she stood. How many of the deaths that haunted her were by his hand? If not his own, then someone from the massive host in his employ or servitude? Her teeth were bared, gray eyes blazing down at her grandfather. The questions and accusations wanted to pour from her lips. She had come to accept and honor her heritage; what more did he want? Must she try to kill him before he was satiated?

The cold smile stayed put. Alyssiana considered her options, and sat once more. Let him finish what he has to say. I will not be goaded from my position. She promised herself.

Speaking once more, Xantos lowered his voice to a secretive whisper. “In a year’s time, perhaps less, I will move against the dahnri, and he will be mine. You can find other obligations to serve until then, or take your place at the House of DiSendra. I would even fund a personal quest. Take your pick, my child.”

“I have made my decision.” Alyssiana countered. She got up again, and this time, she moved next to Xantos. The smile had faded from his lips, just a bit. He clapped his hands, and the servant returned, bearing her cloak. The man held it out for her, and she slipped into the comforting folds. Alyssiana moved to leave when her grandfather’s voice stopped her a final time.

“Consider all that has come before, Aly. Think of what you know, and what the possibilities are. You may find yourself realizing what I have tried to warn you of.”

His words rang in her ears during her walk to the inn. The voice did not cease to echo in her mind as she summoned another portal and changed at Xantos’s house. Memories played in her dreams as she slept in the rented bed at the inn. In the morning, she thought she was, at last, free of those words. After a meal, she packed and began to travel once more. It took very little time in the quiet outdoors for her mind to unlock the hated door Xantos had built.

Consider all that has come before…there is so much…

Ok, first off, I had a wonderful time over the weekened. My parents had the kids again and that left me free to go to Richmond with my beloved sans kids. I walked around Short Pump windowshopping for about two hours and loved the exercise (I admit it!) while Mark went to a micro-bachelor's party for a friend. We went to Maggiano's together (as always, service was excellent and the food just can NOT be surpassed by any other restaurant...) before leaving for home. I then got to go to a mutual friend's house (Ed's is one of Mark's best friends...) and game there... Ok, well... it was more me, Ed, and another friend of Mark's and Ed's annoying the DM (dungeon master) by going off on our own tangents, lol. I then stayed to watch the UFC (UCF?) games on ShowTime. lol, it was actually fun, which I attribute to the company more than the show. Well, here's what I've been playing with as a way to keep sane. We finally got our query letter together and done, so we're testing the waters with it to see how it goes.... Keeping with tradition, we've recieved a rejection already. Shyndra is a character I play during game nights (AD&D, btw). We've got the cast of main characters already, but we're still toying with the plot. In the meantime, I'm playing around with her introduction. :) **** There was something to be said about a temple dedicated to Dridean, god of light and knowledge, in a city where crime and filth abounded. It showed a dedication to a belief and stubbornness to not let the darkness overshadow everything. Or so the dedicated followers believed. It was a challenge for the clerics to cajole their followers into changing their way for the 'greater good', to coerce them from their evil ways and step into Dridean's ever-knowing 'light'. In reality, the High Priest and many other temple clerics were simply using it as a method to fill their personal pockets and, for the High Priest, a means to enjoy the brothels only a few buildings away from the temple. It was why Shyndra, in her usual black priestess robes, was now traversing the hallways in search of the High Priest. Head bowed, hood pulled low over her brow, she kept her arms folded at waist level. Her hands were tucked into the opposing sleeves, well hidden from view. Though she had not grown up as a religious zealot like many in her family, she knew the basic layouts of the temples of the various deities. Only Dynisseik's devout followers changed every hallway and room from temple to temple, making traversing them nearly impossible without a map. One of the reasons Shyndra claimed herself as a follower of the goddess of lies and deception. Nearing the High Priest's private sanctuary, the door opened and she ducked into the shadows of an alcove. As he stood in the doorframe adjusting his robes and belt, Shyndra studied the man dispassionately. An inch or so taller than her petite five-foot three-inch frame, he had white hair circling a balding head. Pale blue listless eyes made her question if he used one of the many remedies sold amongst the fares in the bazaar. It would certainly explain his renowned erratic behavior and his violent temper. Not to mention the glaze that covered his eyes. His face was smooth, with wrinkles around his mouth and eyes. The High Priest turned and strode down the hallway towards a heavy wooden door. Shyndra groaned silently, her shoulders dropping as she heaved a sigh. Why the bathroom? Nothing good ever happened when it came to her, a contract, and a bathroom.