Blog

  • Writing Again – A Thousand Years of Hope

    A new Year is here. 2022 is going to be the year of the tiger (lunar calendar). It is my greatest hope that my writing is more productive this year. I have been lost in a world of a previous project, and wallowing in letting go pains. I didn’t think it was an issue until I needed to start new project. Writing is a journey.

    I’m excited to introduce my new story. In a different setting with different characters, I feel juiced up to get it done. The new story is called A Thousand Years of Hope. Based on the idea of an immortal soul who has loved a mortal for nine hundred years with no reward in turn. Is it possible to keep the hope of love? Do expectations come short and at what point does love become obsession? Or harmful? Or important?

    Hm, so many questions to give. I’m at the start and there is already so much.

    Tani and Dante are my characters’ names.

    You can read the first chapters on GayAuthors.org. My username is Lilansui. Do let me know what you think if you stop by the site. ^_^

  • Song of the Week

    April is ending. Time is moving so fast. That makes it a month indoors. It’s fascinating how many adventures we have gotten into living inside our compound. From planting lavender, rosemary and green onions, to plotting Part II of The Relunctant Consort and today’s family fun activity of making kimchi from scratch. (Thank you Maangchi, she’s like my second mother and I’ve never met her). It’s been interesting. I’m grateful that so far everyone within my home is safe from Covid 19. It takes all of us to keep going on, day by day.

    Hello Earworm
    What song is stuck in your head (or on permanent rotation
    in your playlist) these days? Why does it speak to
    you?

    prompting Sui

    My writing playlist has been quite eclectic. I’m currently writing The Reluctant Consort, which is taking loads of instrumental music. I’ll end up listening to one song over and over. Then after a few chapters, it will change. In between that, this song came on the house playlist and we had a little dance to it. It got stuck in my head and now I’m listening to Sleeping at Last’s Heart over and over.

    The lyrics make my heart ache in the best of ways.

    We are maybe making cheese tomorrow. Hubby ordered fresh milk from a nearby farm and we want to try out if we can make Mozarella cheese. I hope our delivery goes okay. These are the things we get up to at home. Stay safe.

    From my desk to yours, love Sui.

  • Life in lockdown is up close and personal

    Making Hand Sanitizer

    We’re indoors for two, maybe three weeks. Our collective work companies have insisted we work from home, and so lockdown starts. In the midst of the stand still that is our life right now, I’m finding new things to be grateful for. There is nothing like being at home with hubby, and two besties working to live through this outbreak of Covid-19. Shopping has gotten creative. And Yes, we have learned how to make hand sanitizer!

    Fear is the hardest part . There is no doubt that covid-19 is real, but the more I learn, the more I get afraid to experience it. What if I’m that person who ends up with complications? That’s the hardest part, and finding a way to manage that fear is hard work. I’m grateful for my hubby and my two best friends. We have all been a rock to each other.

    I’m grateful work allows me to keep going remotely. Working at home is also an interesting experience. I’m finding myself having to block off chunks of time to work. Otherwise, I get inundated in the adventures of finding the best hand sanitizer recipe. They can be really fun and time consuming.

    The best detour of late has been whether we should sanitize our ceiling fans, just in case they somehow managed to get Covid-19 up there on the ceiling! Still can’t get over that one! In case you’re wondering, yes, one of us burst out the ladder from storage and spent a good thirty minutes with sanitizer and a rug. I’m a girl, so I just got to watch these happenings and let the men do all the work. Things are being cleaned that I’ve never seen being cleaned before.

    Supply runs are a thing now. There are things we needed for the house that we were unable to order in. So, we ended up planning a trip out. You can be careful as much as possible, but being out and about is sort of like being in an unseen war zone. There are so many chances to get exposed. Our supply runs include a mask, sanitizer and soap.

    Supplies kit – sanitizer, mask and soap

    Plus side to this is the extra time I get with all who matter to me. Family dinner is finally actually working out, everyone is home at the same time so we get to eat together.

    Chores are shared, can’t have a service coming in, so fights are a must. You know, strands of my hair on the bathroom sink counter are a pet peeve I did not know existed. And guess what, all the men in my life don’t dry dishes but keep them on the rack in a pile, to put away later, which might be tomorrow later. We had that fight too. Things are up close and personal, baby.

    Currently reading this book.

    The upside is that I finally started on the pile of books I keep by my nightstand. Being home is like having infinite time, which is awesome.

    All in all, keep safe and sound. Let’s stay inside and help lower the curve on Covid -19. My prayers are with all those who are living it.

  • The Reluctant Consort – 1

    Chapter 1

    In a time of prosperity, four kingdoms came together and formed an empire.

    The great Kaveh Miran, an accomplished general from Silver Nation, led the great political alliance that made Sun Kingdom, Iron Land, Blood Nation and Silver Kingdom into one.  A great alliance that became known as The Akasha Empire.

    By joint decision, the kings of each nation named Kaveh Miran the Emperor of Akasha, making him and his family responsible for keeping the peace between nations and ensuring a long-standing empire.  Kaveh accepted the mandate and built an imperial city in the middle of the Akasha Empire.  Making it easy for any nation to approach his palace for assistance as needed. The Miran Family would then take on the duty of protecting and serving all in need.

    Akasha was abundant with resources: cultivating land, minerals, food, and water.  What they did not have they made up for by trading with neighboring countries.  Merchants in Akasha grew prosperous businesses, and rose to fortune and fame in a glorious era known as The Miran Era.

    When Kaveh Miran grew tired, he left the care of the empire to his three children: Kiyan, Kastan and Kyra.

    Kiyan became Emperor of Akasha, Kastan a Prince of Akasha, while Kyra married a foreign king to strengthen Akasha’s allies and became Queen of Tanad, moving to the North of Akasha.

    Of all his children, Kaveh Miran had always thought Kastan as the strongest.

    For that same reason, Emperor Kiyan made Prince Kastan the commander of Akasha’s army.

    Kastan took on the role of protector of the Akasha Empire, and lived his life for the safety and care of the empire and its people.  When he turned twenty, he too married a princess from Blood Nation to strengthen the royal family’s ties.

    For this marriage, Kaveh granted Kastan a Dukedom in the middle of a lush valley named Silver Shore.  Kastan took his new wife to live at Silver Shore, glad to escape the many pressures of the Akasha Palace.

    Princess Jian was two years younger than Kastan.  She was beautiful and reconciled to her fate.  She married Kastan out of duty.  Their marriage was a mutual alliance and when she got pregnant, they were both happy that their new home would have an heir to carry on their lineage.

    Kastan did not count on his wife being too delicate to give birth.

    He certainly did not think that Jian would die in childbirth and leave him responsible for a newborn son.  The night Jian died, Prince Kastan held his newborn son in his arms and promised himself that he would never allow another weak partner near him.

    *~*~*

    Ten years after Jian’s death, Prince Kastan had established Silver Shore as his permanent home, choosing to visit the Imperial Palace when it was necessary.  His reasons deeply tied to his ten-year-old son, Rashan.

    Silver Shore was a lush valley surrounded by rolling hills, green fields, wild forests and a stunning silver river that flowed through the valley heading to the ocean.  Under Prince Kastan’s care, the people living in the valley prospered, and Silver Shore became a coveted utopia.

    It was an unattainable utopia, as most of Silver Shore’s residents were family members of Prince Kastan’s core army.  These families turned Silver Shore into both fortress and paradise for those who were lucky to call it home.  These men and women who lived within the valley protected it with fierce devotion.  Until it had became prestigious to marry into a family living in Silver Shore, or to meet one who called Silver Shore home.

    Silver Shore residents treasured Kastan and affectionately called him Duke Silver, a nickname started by his best friend and right hand man, Temu.

    The people also spoiled Kastan’s son, Rashan, calling him Little Prince when he ran around in town with his nanny and guardian.  Kastan was grateful for the residents of Silver Shore as their devotion added a layer of protection for his most precious son.  No one would dare touch Rashan at Silver Shore.

    Kastan’s manor, which stood in the most secure part of the valley, was called Sun-filled Manor.  Kastan’s father had named it when he came to visit and discovered that the morning sun filled the halls without prejudice.  Kaveh Miran decided the name Sun-Filled suited the manor, and deemed it a perfect home for his grandson, Rashan.

    Kastan and his son called Sun-filled Manor home.  They lived with Kastan’s three loyal friends, Temu, Safan and Naveed.  There was also Rashan’s nanny, Fara, and Yasmin, the housekeeper who managed all of Sun-filled Manor.

    At the start of Rashan’s eleventh year, seven people stood in an open field that led to a cliff behind the manor releasing lanterns to the sky.

    Kastan watched his son carefully hold his lantern, and then send it up to the sky.  The higher it rose, the wider Rashan smiled.  When his son closed his eyes to make his wish, Kastan stepped closer to listen in.

    Rashan always spoke aloud on his wishes, hoping his father would hear them and help make them come true.

    This year was different.

    Kastan frowned when Rashan decided to murmur his wishes with a sense of fervor this year.

    “Please make my wish come true this year,” Rashan murmured.  “I’ve asked so many times already.  You have to fulfill it this year, please.”

    Kastan’s frowned deepened.  He was sure he had done his best to fulfill all of Rashan’s wishes the past year.  From giving him a black horse like his father’s, to redoing the east wing of Sun-Filled Manor to accommodate Rashan’s sword training, he had done it all.

    Why was this kid still making a desperate wish this year too?

    This wasn’t the first time he had heard this murmur, Kastan thought.  He remembered the same hushed tone when Rashan turned nine.  It disappeared when Rashan turned ten, but now it was back in his eleventh year.

    Curious, Kastan placed a gentle hand on Rashan’s right shoulder making his son look up at him.

    “Shan, is there something you want that you don’t have?” Kastan asked, sure that his son was not missing anything material.

    He worked hard to make sure that Rashan had everything he needed.

    Rashan bit his bottom lip, worrying it a bit, before he shook his head, no.

    Kastan lifted his right brow in question, and his heart squeezed when Rashan smiled at him.

    “Fara told me that this little wish of mine must be granted by a higher power.  Even if the people call you the god of war, my wish can only be heard by the god of fate,” Rashan said, dropping his hands to his sides.  “Fara said I must be pure in my wish for it to come true, otherwise he won’t hear my prayer.”

    Kastan glanced at Fara who was standing with Yasmin as they watched the lanterns float into the night sky.  This was a good start of the year, and he had promised them a bonus envelope to take to their families.  They looked happy.  He was glad for it as they took care of his most precious person. 

    Kastan wondered if Fara knew what Rashan’s wish was, his frown deepened when he remembered she liked to keep his son’s confidence.  Meaning, if Rashan wanted a secret kept, she was more than willing to help Rashan.  The only exception was if the secret was one that could harm Rashan, then she was the first to run to Kastan’s study.

    Since Fara had not told him this secret, it was not harmful to Rashan, but…

    “Rashan, remember what I’ve said before.  We must make our own way, our own path,” Kastan felt compelled to say.  “You must state what you want to get, and set your mind to getting it.  This is how the world works.  One must not leave anything to chance.”

    “Fara said that would be your answer,” Rashan said with a thoughtful nod.

    A few minutes passed in silence.  They both looked up at the sky watching the lanterns float away, lighting the dark night.  Then Rashan took Kastan’s left hand, his small hands wrapping around Kastan’s much larger one.

    “When I’m sure it can come true, I’ll tell you, Pa.”

    Kastan crouched low to his son’s height, and brought the hands holding his left one to his lips.

    “I’ll look forward to it, Shan,” Kastan said with a small grin, eager to discover what wish his son kept so close to his heart.  “Now, are you ready for the new year’s dinner?  Why don’t we go inside and discover what Yasmin’s made for dinner.”

    “She spent the whole day cooking,” Rashan said, excitement filling his cheeks with color.  He squeezed Kastan’s hand tight, before he rushed off to Yasmin’s side, declaring his hunger.

    Yasmin and Fara each took one of Rashan’s hands and started in the direction of the manor, their pace unhurried.  Kastan watched them, smiling as they talked about the colorful moon cakes Fara made, roasted chicken, lotus root soup, the list seemed endless.

    Kastan straightened to his full height when the trio entered the kitchen using the back door.  He turned to look up at the lanterns, which had travelled a distance away.  He was conscious of the three men he trusted with his life moving to stand on each side of him.

    “Your Grace,” Temu spoke first, standing on Kastan’s right.  “When will you respond to the summons from Emperor Kiyan?”

    “After the new year’s celebrations end,” Kastan answered with a heavy sigh.  He folded his hands behind his back, dragging his gaze away from his son’s lantern to the rest of the valley sprawled before him.

    The night filled with lanterns released by hopeful souls living in Silver Shore.  The streets were alight, celebrations taking over the main square in town.  The sound of joyful music echoed in the air.  His people were happy and in peace.

    Kastan hated to break the spell with foreboding.

    “None of them will fault you,” Naveed said from Kastan’s left, answering his thoughts.  “We are all content with the path we’ve chosen.  Silver Shore has enjoyed five years of peace because of your staunch support, Your Grace.  The Akasha Empire is our home too.  We shall fight with you to guard what we’ve all built together these last five years.”

    Kastan looked at Naveed’s profile.

    Naveed was the most sentimental one of the three while Darian was more quick to anger and action.

    “War is not confirmed, yet,” Kastan reminded Temu and Naveed.

    He wasn’t ready to think of war just yet.

    “I’m only answering summons from my Emperor Brother.  He could be asking for a peacekeeping tour.  The problems at West Nation’s border are all solvable with a competent diplomat.”

    “The palace is full of conspiring politicians,” Safan said, the third and most important man in the trio said.  “A summons reaching Silver Shore means one of those old men has aggravated relations at the west border and forced the Emperor and Tanad Kingdom into a tight corner.  Whether it is peacekeeping or war, you’ll need to be cautious, Your Grace.”

    “You are all right,” Kastan said, after a minute of thought.

    His oldest brother tried to keep direct summons to a minimum.  Kastan appreciated that as it meant that he managed all armies at will.  Every turn of the moon, Kastan made an appearance at the palace where he met his brother, and discussed any pressing problems in the different provinces.  They managed an amiable working relationship.

    Summons were scattered, Kastan disliked them as they meant an extended stay at the palace.  He did not like the idea of leaving Rashan alone at Silver Shore.  Worse, he never wanted to entertain the idea of Rashan moving into the palace.  That thought made him shudder.

    “Whatever the order, the outcome cannot change,” Kastan murmured.  “Silver Shore stays intact and protected.”

    “Yes, Your Grace,” they all agreed.

    Kastan smiled this time, his lips curving wider.  He was glad that he never had to worry about these three.  They made the mess in the palace easier to face.

    “Duke Silver,” Temu said, his tone teasing.  “I have a serious craving for Yasmin’s roasted chicken.  The lanterns won’t return now.  We’ve set them free; they’ll land where they will.  Why don’t we head back to the house to eat?”

    Kastan had yet to thank Temu for the interesting nickname that had spread through the valley like wildfire.

    “Who has stopped you from racing to the kitchen?” Kastan asked.

    “Duke Silver no one dares eat while you’re standing out here staring at the sky with that mournful look,” Naveed said.

    Safan moved around Naveed and came to wrap an arm around Safan’s shoulders.  He was a hulk of a man, with bulging muscles gained from his love of using a hammer and axe in battle and in the homestead.

    Safan turned Kastan around with a simple squeeze and led Kastan toward the house, launching into a tale about Rashan breaking into the chicken coop earlier in the afternoon.

    Kastan loved listening to Safan’s tales about Rashan.  He loved it more that Safan managed to dispel the anxiety growing from their coming uncertain future.  His message clear: enjoy the quiet and peace for now.

    ~*~*~*~

    Three days after the New Year’s celebrations ended, Kastan rode his black warhorse into the capital, wearing his colors.  His silver coat decorated with embroidery to fit his station and a blood red cape cascading down his back with a black tiger crest right in the middle.  It was the symbol of his army.

    Temu and Naveed followed Kastan close, the thundering hooves of three black warhorses cleared the road faster than any shout from the street officers.  People moved to the side when they saw them racing down the streets of the Imperial City Akan.

    Kastan paid them no mind, and did not slow down until he saw the large black gates of the Akan palace ahead.  Slowing down the pace of his horse, he watched the gates slowly start to open; the soldiers guarding the gates all formed a neat line on each side of the palace gates, their black uniform with gold embroidery matching.  They saluted Kastan as he rode through the open gates into the Akasha Imperial Palace.

    Kastan led his horse to the foot of the series of stairs that led to the front doors of the palace’s greeting hall.  A man’s luck depended on what he found at the top of the stairs.  It could be a cool reception, a warm greeting, or nothing, at the extreme one found death at the end of a sword.

    Kastan walked up the stairs with a sense of nostalgia.  He grew up in this palace, running up these steps with his sister and brother.  As he turned ten, his interests turned to the extensive training grounds beyond the main palace where learned to wield a sword the right way.

    His training master insisted he learn how to use all weapons in the palace’s arsenal.  The challenge was welcome and with it, his thirst for adventure.  The solid walls around the palace started to feel stifling, and he longed for a life outside the Imperial City.  Everything he had done since he turned twenty and married Jian was to gain independence to live outside the palace.  He dared not imagine the idea of returning into this opulent cold palace.  Silver Shore was far more comfortable compared to this place.

    “We have a reception,” Naveed murmured, his instinct for danger alive and at work.  “I count five people.”

    Kastan nodded and finished the last set of stairs, his senses alert.  Standing ten steps away was his brother, Kiyan, and his sister, Kyra: an Emperor and a Queen.  Behind them were two of Kiyan’s aides and Kyra’s shadow guard, Sanin.

    Kastan did not slow his steps, but Naveed and Temu did, stopping right by the stairs. 

    “Kas,” Kyra said, racing to him without a care for decorum.

    Kastan braced himself as she launched herself into his arms.  He lifted her up and turned around on the spot, pleased to see her so well.  He missed her dearly.

    “Kyra,” Kastan kissed her cheek when he set her on her feet.

    She was beautiful in a moss green silk dress cinched at her waist with a wide gold belt, with long sleeves and its long skirts sweeping the floor.  Her long dark hair fell down her back to her waist, with intricate gold leaves keeping it in check.  She looked every bit a queen.

    “You grow more beautiful with time.”

    “I would say the same, Kas,” Kyra said, reaching up with her left hand to caress his right eyebrow and the scar there.  “This still makes you look dashing.  How many hearts have you broken since I last saw you?”

    “None,” Kastan said.

    “That can only mean countless,” Kyra said with a laugh, as she took his right hand, and led him to their Emperor brother.  “Kiyan, why do you restrain yourself when you’re as glad to see Kas as I am?”

    “He is commander of armies, not to be jumped on at will,” Kiyan said when they reached him.

    Still, Kiyan stepped closer and pulled Kastan into a tight hug.  Kastan held his brother, relieved his siblings were in good spirits.

    Kiyan let him go, reaching out to arrange Kastan’s red cape with a small smile.  He looked around Kastan, taking in Naveed and Temu who bowed in greeting, still his gaze remained searching.

    “Rashan?” Kiyan asked after a minute.

    “With Safan at Silver Shore,” Kastan answered, noting the quick wave of disappointment that flashed over both Kyra and Kiyan’s gazes.  “We needed to ride fast.  The journey would have been taxing for him.”

    “I miss him,” Kyra complained.  “I last saw him when he turned ten.  It was his birthday a few days ago.  I wanted to give him a gift.”

    “You’re welcome to Silver Shore at any time.  You could send the gifts to him too,” Kastan said.  “You must visit Silver Shore before you return to Tanad, Kyra.”

    “What about me?” Kiyan asked.  “Must I leave the palace to visit my nephew too?”

    Kastan sighed.  His Emperor was unhappy about his choice to keep Rashan away from palace life.  That much was obvious.  Still, Rashan adored both Kiyan and Kyra. 

    “I will make arrangements for him to make a short visit soon,” Kastan said, though he sounded reluctant even to his ears.

    Kyra glanced at Kiyan, before she tucked her hand in the crook of Kastan’s left arm.

    “Come in, Kastan,” Kyra suggested.  “I made sure there was plenty of food and drink ready for when you arrived.  Your men can follow us and we’ll get them settled for the night.”

    Kastan turned and nodded to Naveed and Temu who followed them.

    “Thank you for answering my summons so soon,” Kiyan said as they went down a long hallway.  “I imagined you might be delayed for a week or so.”

    “I always come when you ask,” Kastan reminded his brother.

    “You’re the only one I can count on,” Kiyan said, his tone enough to make Kastan pause. 

    Kiyan was the most powerful man in the empire.  He should fear nothing, especially with Kastan by his side.  Still, an Emperor had more worries keeping him awake.

    “Kastan, can you trust me with Rashan?  It’s dangerous to leave him alone at Silver Shore.”

    Kyra squeezed Kastan’s arm, and he caught her censoring gaze when he looked at her.  She wanted him to take it easy with Kiyan.

    “Your Majesty’s offer is hard to ignore,” Kastan said.  “I’m afraid I would have to wait to give you an answer.  Your servant is weak when it comes to his son.  I can’t force him to do anything.”

    “Aren’t you being too nice a parent?” Kiyan asked, leading the way into an elegant greeting room with tables laden with food and drink.

    “I still have a lot to learn,” Kastan answered, noting that the servants moved in silent coordination leaving the room and closing the doors tight.  “Is the Empress not joining us?”

    “She is occupied with our sons,” Kiyan said, indicating for them to take seats at the largest dining table.  “Besides, what I want to discuss concerns the empire.”

    Kyra sat directly across him on Kiyan’s right, while Kastan and his men took the left side. Kastan waited for Temu and Naveed to settle beside him before he pulled out his chair and sat. 

    Kyra and Kiyan allowed Kastan and his men to eat and drink in silence for a few minutes.

    Kiyan was the one to break the silence first.

    “Kastan,” Kiyan said, making Kastan look.

    Kiyan watched him with a somber gaze.  Guilt bloomed in his gaze and Kastan looked away, sipping his wine, unable to take that guilt.

    “West Nation has become a problem,” Kastan said, bringing up the topic on his brother’s behalf.  “All your attempts at negotiation must have failed.”

    “So you already understand the situation,” Kiyan said with a heavy sigh.  “West Nation is matching on our border.  All attempts at reaching an amiable agreement have dissolved.  They sent me the head of the last envoy I sent to them.  All because they want the iron mines at Mount Kin.”

    Mount Kin spanned the length of Akasha’s west border with West Nation.  The mountain was in Akasha land, and the people living at the foot of the mountain were skilled metal forgers.  They mined iron from the mountain caves and were a huge source of income for the land.  The Emperor would need to respond with force on any aggressive move against Mount Kin.

    Kastan met his brother’s gaze.

    “Say it,” Kastan said giving his brother an assuring nod.

    “Are you sure you will not send Rashan to stay with us in the palace?” Kiyan asked instead.  “He is important to us, as much as he is to you, Kas.”

    “Rashan is happiest at Silver Shore,” Kastan said, noting the flash of disappointment in his brother’s gaze.

    “Then, Commander,” Kiyan said, his tone hard.  “Akasha is at war with West Nation.  I’m leaving the west border to you.”

    Kastan placed his goblet on the table and gave his brother a single nod in answer.  He knew his brother would repeat this same order before the royal court tomorrow morning.

    Kastan turned to Naveed and Temu.  He gave them a short nod and they both got up from the table, excusing themselves.  They headed out to start discrete preparations.

    “This war is on two fronts,” Kiyan said, lowering his voice once Kastan’s men left the room.  “One shall be fought at court, dealing with the Minister of Trade and the Empress’s father, the other by you, at the border.”

    “I have pledged my Queen’s Army to you,” Kyra said, her gaze on Kastan.  “You’ll need all the support you can get.”

    Kastan pushed his food away, and concentrated on understanding the plot at court that had lead them to war.

    *~*~*~*

    Prologue

  • Surprise! – A gratitude note for you.

    A girl I’ve loved all my life as a sister, a best-friend, sometimes a mother, turned into the prettiest bride I have ever seen. She never thought it would happen for her, and for the longest time she struggled with the idea that there would be no one for her. No one to share the personal challenges and struggles that are infinitely private to all of us. To see her smile so wide, while holding on to our favorite plus one, I find myself, for the first time in my life, believing in the magic.

    For this epic feat, Sui-Noona, I hope for you all the happiness in the world. This is my note to you, on your blog, here in this place where you write all your creative thoughts that have brought me so many stories to read without end. I’m inspired by you two, and you gave me hope where there was none.

    Why this post here? Sui started out writing to create worlds that didn’t seem to exist for me. This little brother of hers has found infinite inspiration, and comfort in her books, her work. Most of all, I’m happy to be part of her life, her creative process, and someone she looks at as family.

    Noona, I hope you find my gratitude post when you’re back, and laugh hard when you read it. I love you, always!

    From your Little Brother, Moon.

  • The Reluctant Consort

    Prologue

    A sharp sword rested on his shoulder, the sharp blade pressed against his neck.  His clothes soaked from the rush of rain that had slowed down to a drizzle.  Strange, but the worst moments in his life always seemed to coordinate with the rain.

    How did the heavens know to match with his tears?

    His knees hurt from kneeling on the stones in the courtyard at Kamran Estate.  He shifted to ease the ache and the sword at his neck nicked his skin.  He hissed at the sharp sting.  The sword’s blade was sharp.

    Jihan imagined it could ten pigs with one sweep in the hands of its skilled master.  The blade shifted away from his neck and he closed his eyes at the small relief.  The man holding the sword to his neck had no softness in him.  It wouldn’t matter how much Jihan pleaded, he would follow orders and kill Jihan if it came to it.

    A scream cut through the night and Jihan forgot his discomfort.  Heart in his throat, he watched two more men drag his older sister and her husband into the courtyard.

    How had they found them?

    A strangled cry escaped his lips when the man holding his sister pushed her to the ground next to him.

    Jihan reached for her to steady her.

    “Can’t you be kinder?” Jihan asked, his eyes filling with tears.

    Andiya kept her hands over her stomach to protect her unborn child.  She leaned into Jihan, her tears clear on her cheeks, her gaze on her husband, Ishan.

    Ishan knelt on the ground, maneuvering so that he was protecting Andiya with his body, when one of the men reached for her again.

    “Leave her alone,” Jihan said, angry with their captors and their brutish ways.  “She is pregnant.  Tell me, how will you take responsibility if anything happens to the baby?”

    The men stopped reaching for Andiya, and Ishan moved closer to his wife, holding her with care.  Ishan glared at their captors too, his arm around Andiya, giving her the warmth he could.

    “Why are you doing this?” Jihan asked, when his sister gripped his left arm, her fingers trembling with fear.  “How dare you invade Kamran Estate?”

    “Don’t blame us,” a gruff voice said above Jihan.  “You brought this on yourself.”

    Jihan wished he could refute the accusation, but in the end, all he could lament was that his plan had not worked.  If it had, his sister and her husband would have already left and found refuge in Iron Land with his friend, Swallow.  He had been willing to face the consequences of his actions alone.

    How had things gone so wrong?

    “You dared—,”

    The gruff man above him growled out, not finishing his sentence.

    The anger rolling off him made Jihan hope that their deaths would be swift, and not slow torture.  He couldn’t bear the thought of Andiya and her child suffering.

    Jihan felt Andiya’s grip on his arm tighten, and he looked up, his heart dropping when he saw the tall, forbidding man entering the courtyard.  His silver armor shone in the moonlight, a heavy blood red cape flowing behind him.  The stories Jihan had heard were true.  In his armor, Duke Silver was enough to stop a weak man’s heart with fright.

    Jihan found he couldn’t take his gaze away from the long sword Duke Silver held.  That blood thirsty blade that had cut down thousands of lives during the West Nation Rebellion.

    Jihan gulped, thinking his life sure had fallen to the depths now.  He could never have imagined facing death at the tip of Duke Silver’s blade.  Still…, maybe this was their fate after all.

    Duke Silver came to a stop before him, dripping with murderous intent, his face dark with anger.

    “Duke Silver, we caught the woman and her husband on the road heading into Iron Land.  Master Jihan was waiting here.  We haven’t found his shadow guard,” the gruff one next to Jihan said.

    “He sent him away,” Duke Silver said, his hard gaze speculative as he studied Jihan.

    Andiya moved closer to him, her eyes filled with fear.  Seeing it, helped Jihan with his decision.

    Jihan pushed his sister into Ishan’s arms, and crawled forward, making sure they were both behind him.  Still on his knees, he straightened his back and faced Duke Silver.

    He would be no cowering fool.  He was the master of Kamran Estate after all: he had made all decisions in this place since he turned ten.  Protected his sister, grown the family business, played just as hard, and even dared to love, twice, he had missed out on nothing.

    So now, he would take responsibility for his decisions.

    The rain started again, and Jihan was glad for it, as it would hide the tears he couldn’t hold back anymore.

    “Punish me alone,” Jihan said, his fingers clenched to keep from shaking with the fear sinking in his heart.

    Duke Silver’s dark gaze left him with no doubt that the Duke was angry enough to kill him and everyone in the Kamran Estate.  They had dared to ignore a royal edict and fooled a prince.

    “No matter how I look at it, Kamran Estate has indeed done you wrong,” Jihan said, keeping his tone light.  “Please know that my sister and her husband did not know about the royal edict.”

    Jihan ignored his sister’s cry of protest, and was grateful when Ishan held her tighter, muffling her words.

    “I hid the truth from them.  I planned their wedding even knowing that she was promised to marry into the royal family.  I paid for their trip to the Iron Lands.  All these decisions were made by me,” Jihan continued.  “They are not at fault.  Please spare their lives and let it end with me.  I’ll take responsibility for daring to disregard a royal edict.”

    Duke Silver pointed his sword at Jihan’s face, the tip an inch away from his left eye.  Jihan clenched his fists, fear racing through him, he felt close to falling from it, but he needed to do this, for the sake of his sister, her unborn child and her husband.

    He couldn’t bear the thought of the alternative, which would be watching his sister forced into an unwanted marriage, her child murdered…he shuddered.  Worse yet, they might decide to send both Andiya and her husband Ishan to their deaths.  Jihan couldn’t imagine bearing the burden of burying his sister and her child.  It would be too much to ask of him.

    No, this was better.  He was alone after all, unmarried with no ties to anything.  His life mattered less here.

    Kamran Estate would go on without him, taken care of by his sister.  Andiya might even get a son in the future and name that boy after him.  She would smile looking at that child and think of him.  It was enough.  The thought gave him some strength.

    Jihan locked his muscles in place, and stared at the tip of Duke Silver’s blade.  He couldn’t help admiring how it shone in the moonlight.  The stories were true.  How fierce he looked, so handsome and fierce.

    “Agreed, we’ll do it the way you want.  You take responsibility,” Duke Silver gritted out, after a short period of silence, keeping his sword steady as he spoke.  “Jihan, how dare you look down on the royal family?  You shall indeed pay the price for their lives with yours.”

    Jihan closed his eyes, unwilling to watch Duke Silver swing a sword at him.  Things between them had already reached this point.  His heart was already shattered.  Why make it worse?  He took in a deep breath, steadying himself, ready for death…

    The Reluctant Consort is period fiction set in a fantasy land known as the Akasha Empire. There is a royal family, as expected of the books in the Prince Series, that is, Crown Prince Yoshi and The Prince & His Royal Guard. The Reluctant Consort makes it the third and last. There are wars, men with swords and horses and wearing period costumes. I couldn’t help giving Duke Silver a red cloak for his armor. Jihan is a merchant, with a worldly view, nothing can tie him down and Duke Silver somehow finds a perfect method to do so. The fun is how these two stubborn people will end up loving each other.

    I had written a snippet of this story in an earlier post, and promised to change the title. Which I did. Development has been involved, but I’m finally happy with the direction it’s going and this is truly the start of The Reluctant Consort. Duke Silver and Jihan are on the way. I hope you’ll enjoy reading about them as much as I’m having a blast writing for them.

    If you don’t already know, I post most of my stories on GA first. Then, I slowly turn them into e-books for download. I’m currently working on turning the three last finished books into e-books. In between that, there will be Duke Silver & Jihan to entertain you. I’ll work out a posting schedule in the next few weeks.

  • Writing The Prince and His Royal Guard

    Whoa! It’s July 2019. One blink and I’m sixty thousand words in to TP&HRG and looking for that crazy climax and a sweet ending, which could take me to ninety thousand words. I’m in deep.

    The writing process this week looks like this:

    It’s not pretty!

    Notes, and scenes coming to life, and getting axed in a search for the end. After dozens of rereads, and adjustments, I’m very close to the payload. This July I’m hoping to get into a different project so I’m eager to finish The Prince’s story. When the next chapter comes, I promise it will be worth it! I’ve enjoyed creating Leon and Logan. Current soundtrack is Naked by James Arthur. Hard at work.

    Meanwhile, yes, I write with pen and then pencil, when that doesn’t work, I type, and read out chapters I’ve posted. I’m a nutter is what I am. He says he gets that, so it’s only going to get worse. Hahaha. ^_^

  • New Fiction Snippets – Upcoming Stories

    A Prince & His Royal Guard
    This story is something I’m playing around with of late. It will be short, it will be sweet. I have had fun writing it!

    The thud of a bullet hitting a tree too close startled the black thoroughbred stallion into a run.  Leon swallowed bile and leaned over his horse, gripping his reins to keep control of Starburst as they raced through the wild forests surrounding his home.  A second shot sent birds flying from the branches.

    A harsh hiss left his lips when he felt the painful sting on his right upper arm.

    Leon leaned lower on his horse not daring a glance back.

    Starburst ran fast, scared and unsettled.  Leon needed all his wits to keep control of him.

    He thanked his luck as Starburst emerged from the forest and onto an open field a minute later.  The horse kept up his fast pace, heading to the stables.  When they were halfway there, Leon turned back hoping to see his assailant.  His heart thudded in his chest when he saw no one standing at the tree line aiming at him with a gun.  It was little relief.

    Starburst slowed down when they were closer to familiar territory.  Leon brought him to a stop outside the stable and jumped off the saddle with a wince.  Pain lanced up his upper arm, blood dripping down his sleeve.

    The groom who came to take Starburst gave a short gasp taking the reins from Leon.

    “Your Highness, you’re injured!”

    Leon glanced at his right upper arm with a grimace.  The bullet grazed his arm hard and left a deep furrow that dripped blood down his arm.  It stung.  He didn’t want to think about taking a shower with it.  The next few days would be uncomfortable.

    “Your Highness,” Dax, his royal guard and attendant, came running from inside the stable, horror clear in his eyes.  “Oh God, how did this happen?”

    “Don’t start with me,” Leon said, turning away from Dax, intent on running to his rooms.

    Dax grew up in the service of the royal family.  He knew the rules and regulations of running a palace front and back.  When he moved to Castle Arguro, those rules and regulations remained.  His unparalleled dedication to Leon often left him unsettled.

    Having grown up wild and unchecked, Leon often chafed under Dax’s constant attention.  The man took everything that happened to Leon too seriously.

    Ten years of Dax and Leon still had not found a middle ground with the thirty-one year old attendant.  Dax’s concern seemed to deepen with time.

    “Stop,” Dax ordered, running around Leon to stop his progress to the castle.

    Dax’s gentle hands took Leon’s right arm.  Leon winced when Dax ripped the holder on his sleeve wider, his gaze narrowed as he studied the angry bleeding gouge.  A soft hiss escaped Dax when he recognized what injured Leon.  Meeting Leon’s gaze, Dax let go of Leon’s arm and took a step back.

    “It’s time to report this,” Dax stated, his tone enough to tell Leon there was no arguing.  “This is no longer an accident.”

    Leon let a heavy sigh escape, unable to refute Dax, thinking back on the last three weeks.

    His yacht blowing up minutes before Leon boarded two weeks ago.  A week after, the tires on his favorite Ferrari had blown up on a particularly scary stretch of curved road.

    Leon could not avoid reality any longer. Three accidents in the space of weeks was no longer a coincidence

    “Someone is trying to kill you, Prince Leon,” Dax said, his eyes wide with worry.

    Leon’s gaze shifted to the castle beyond the stables, an uneasy feeling brewing deep inside him.

    Castle Arguro was home to the Kingdom’s royal second son.  Leon had called the castle home for twenty-five years.  Arguro was his parents’ home first.  When Leon turned twenty-one, his mother and father died in a tragic car accident in Monaco.

    Leon then became Castle Arguro’s master.

    Four years after their funeral, he now looked forward to living a quiet life in this place.  Content to focus his extensive resources on businesses and the charities his parents founded and supported.  He wanted no political power or official duties from the Kingdom’s Palace.

    Leon never ventured into the royal court, or involved himself in the constant running intrigues that ruled the Kingdom’s seat of power.  He was fourth in line to the throne, and hoped to become twentieth.  If only his cousins would marry and give birth, as expected, ensuring his freedom.

    With that in mind, Leon turned to Dax.

    “Do not go running to grandmother’s officials with this.  Use Castle Arguro’s resources first.  Reach out to private security firms.  Keep it discrete,” Leon warned, when Dax smiled.  “They can also handle security around the castle until we find the culprit.”

    “Okay.” Dax nodded, looking pleased now that Leon was placing importance to the incident.

    “Let’s get you inside and see to your arm.  It annoys me to see your blood staining the grass.”

    Leon chuckled and gave the wound on his right arm a wary glance.  He still couldn’t believe someone had gotten close enough to graze his arm with a bullet.

    ****

    The Unexpected Consort

    I’m on a roll with princes this season. Here is a look at a story I’ve been hatching for a while. The title may change. I ‘m not in love with the current one. It will be long, and gives me the vibes for Crown Prince Yoshi, which I enjoy and love so dearly. This one will be longer than the one above. I’ll post it as the year goes, after working on Seiryu Spirit.

    Chapter 1 – A Resounding Peace

    Kamran Estate, Wild Lands

    “Taste it.”

    Jihan stared at the pink fruit.  Its juices slid down a slender wrist, dripping to the ground.  The hand holding the juicy morsel moved to his lips once more and he gave in.  He opened his mouth and took in the fruit.

    Sweet and tangy taste exploded in his mouth and he smiled at the woman who had fed him the fruit.

    “Delicious,” Jihan said, his gaze returning to the ledger he was writing.

    “Delicious,” she mocked his tone, then laughed, jumping off the platform where he sat.  She ran down the stairs to the open space below. 

    “Ishan! Did you hear him?  The peach is clearly tastier than anything he has ever had.  Why does he sound like he is bored?  Tell me, Ishan, what am I to do with this little brother?”

    Jihan noted down the number of peaches they were getting from Ishan’s orchard and glanced up to see Ishan wrap an arm around Andiya’s waist.  His older sister laughed when Ishan twirled her around, holding her tight against him.  Jihan placed his pen on its holder and watched them tease each other.

    The courtyard was alive with activity.  Work men coming in from Ishan’s orchard, carrying crates of peaches to be taken by Jihan’s work men.  The women working in Ishan’s estate cooked in the corner, in anticipation of feeding the many workers visiting today.

    Ishan and Andiya moved between each group keeping up morale.  Or so it would seem to others, but Jihan knew how much Andiya loved Ishan.  How much Ishan wanted Andiya to become Mistress of the Gura Estate.  Jihan envied them their connection.

    “Jihan,” Andiya called to him, and he blinked watching her raise two huge peaches to her eyes.  She made a pout and he chuckled at the sight of her.  Ishan grinned and the courtyard erupted into laughter at Andiya’s continued antics to make him laugh.

    Jihan indulged her for a few minutes, until the next batch of crates came into the courtyard and he had to pick up his pen to note them down.  He worked steadily for the next hour, and right as lunch was ready, he looked up to see his shadow guard, Shen, walk into the courtyard.

    Jihan finished writing the number of fruits he was taking from Ishan, and the cost in his ledger.  He pushed it aside when Shen reached him and crouched beside him, the grip on his sword tight.

    “Master Jihan,” Shen greeted.  “News from the Kingdom’s Capital.”

    “The war?” Jihan asked, afraid the Second Prince had failed in his defense of the Wei Kingdom’s west border.  Second Prince, Feng Wei, commanded the Kingdom’s army on behalf of the king.  He was to drive out invaders from West Nation.  The war at the west border was three months old now.  The fear that Second Prince would lose was taking root in everyone’s heart.

    “Prince Feng Wei has suppressed the invaders,” Shen said, he produced a note from his pocket and handed it to Jihan.  “Our sources played an important role, your father has received a commendation from the palace.”

    “So, what’s the news from the Capital?” Jihan asked, unrolling the note to read later.

    “King Feng Jun has made a royal decree,” Shen said, his expression filled with urgency.  “He insists on a royal wedding between a Kamran child and Second Prince, Feng Wei.”

    Jihan sucked in air, his gaze on his sister who sat next to Lord Ishan adding grilled fish slices into his bowl.

    “Father?” Jihan asked.

    “He is delighted by the idea of his family tied to the royal family, even though it is a second marriage for Prince Feng Wei,” Shen said.  “Your father is making preparations for the wedding as we speak.  He will come to take Andiya to the capital personally.”

    Jihan looked away from his smiling sister and stared at the note he held.  Heart pounding with worry at the thought of Andiya forced to marry into the royal family.  His sister was happy.  She loved Lord Ishan.  Their father would never understand that love.  He would force her to give it up.

    “Should we tell Lady Andiya?” Shen asked.

    “Not yet,” Jihan said.  “Have them prepare the evening meal in my house.  I shall have no one else attending to this meal but you.  Do you understand?”

    “Yes, Master Jihan.”

    “Prepare everything, and contain this news.”  Jihan glanced at Ishan and Andiya, nodding when Andiya smiled at him.  “You and I will need to work hard to reduce the damage from this royal decree.  I’m afraid Kamran Estate might suffer a huge loss at the end of it. There can be no mistakes.”

    “Yes, Master.”

    Shen got up and hurried off, leaving Jihan to read the note from one of his trusted troop leaders supplying Second Prince’s army at the west border.

    Master Kamran,

    Beware of the gift given by the Dragon Seat.  This war has exposed Kamran, leaving your Wild Estate open to jealousy and envy from court officials.  Your network is powerful and The Dragon will seek to own it.  If you cannot escape the gift, then cultivate a friendship with the fierce commander at the west.  He is grateful to Kamran for the help and support you gave in secret.  He will look at you with kind eyes.

    As always, my hope is to grow our alliance and create a harmonious and prosperous atmosphere for our families.  I know your sister’s happiness is in danger if she reaches the Capital.  Your faithful friend,

    Swallow.

    Jihan reread the letter twice, and then reached for the bowl left by Andiya an hour ago for drinking water.  He sunk the letter into the bowl, soaking it with water.  His gaze on the ink fading from the paper, his thoughts on the difficult future ahead.

    Jihan could only hope his father was not too eager to be father in-law to a prince.

    ***

    They are both stories about love and adventure. I can’t wait to get them out to you!

  • Year of the Pig – Happy New Lunar Year

    Hapy

    Excited to celebrate this year as Sui was born in the Year of the Pig – 1983. We wish loads of prosperity, good luck, abundant wealth and health to all this year!

    All our love,

    from,

    Scott, Moon, Sui and L.

  • A Love Affair with Creativity

    Over the years, I have written blogs on the process of writing. Some posts felt uncertain, others untrue, and now years into this, I now write a new post that feels right for this moment. I have come to respect Creativity. Because that is what writing fiction is for me. I respect it. I understand that we are walking down the same road together. Wherever that road takes both of us, intentional or not, I love and respect every minute of it.

    Writing is not a fast thing, there is no magic wand that will make it come at you faster. It’s a process, it takes and gives. Demands of your emotions, hard work, your thoughts, your very self. I’m not the same writer I was when I first started. Those days I wanted it all out fast, wanted it to make an impact, and suffered when it didn’t. Now, I find myself being more deliberate in my writing. I’m not looking for fast ends, but an exploration of the journey. It’s easier to write now because I’m not seeking approval, simply writing what feels right. And for that, I’m much happier with what I do.

    Most important, I have learned to respect my creative side, in the same way I value my closest relationships. Without that respect, I don’t think I would like myself very much.

    Of course, there are days when I struggle. Yes, I struggle, you struggle, we all struggle. When I do, I seek out thoughts that inspire me. Thoughts like this one:


    We feel guilty for all that is authentic in ourselves – our salary, our opinions, our experiences, our hidden desires, the way we speak – we even feel guilty for our parents and our brothers.
    And what is the result? Paralysis.
    We grow ashamed of doing anything different from what the others are expecting.
    We do not expose our ideas, we don’t ask for help.
    ….
    And how can that be changed?
    Have faith. Believe that it is possible, and all the reality around you will begin to change.

    Paulo Coelho – Feeling Guilty

    Feeling guilty – I loved reading this post because at the time of not writing, or being without that charge or spark, it’s often because I’m dealing with external pressures. Dealing with external pressures/forces means I haven’t given myself a chance to sit and dedicate the time allotted to my work. My desire, my needs. So, I have to take a step back and survey what’s causing that feeling, and is it very important that I stop myself from doing what I really want to do. If it is, find a solution to make it work around my writing. If it is not important, then how do I stop caring so much, and return to my writing. One thing that’s always true, I have deep faith in my creativity. The muse is never gone, she’s always there, waiting for me to solve my external bullshit, so that I can get back to work.

    So, I watch videos like this:

    In this short amazing conversation on creativity, this sentence alone stood out so much, that I think it’s my year’s new mantra.

    Creating because it brings you joy.

    Marie Forleo’s channel

    If it’s not making you happy, don’t do it! If it’s not bringing you joy, stop. The best philosophy for everything in life, most importantly, I get pleasure from writing. When something is pulling me away from that happy place, I make a conscious effort to get it out of my life. The same way I will deal with anything negatively impacting my relationships with Hubby or my friends. It’s the only way to grow, and discover where your creativity will take you. Don’t demand from it more than it promises, instead, enjoy the ride it gives you. This is why I loved listening to the conversation between Elizabeth Gilbert and Marie Forleo. So much of what they say is true, and it felt good to hear it aloud. It brought me to a great head space.

    I’m on a journey, that feels like a love affair with my creativity. Ups and downs, astonishing moments, and truly wrenching ones. I’ve come to embrace them all, and look forward to more.

    If you haven’t already, download The Assassin and explore a different love affair with Daven and Kian.