Victor was hiding a yawn behind his fist when Talmadge came into his office. His eyes were burning from lack of sleep.

She was a short girl with a neat gown and the sloppiest braid in Septa. She looked around the room, terror written on her face.

“Sorry,” Victor said as he stood to greet her. “I haven’t gotten an hour sleep at a time in a few days now. Our nurse tells me that’s common, with infants. Have a seat.”

She looked at the chair he’d indicated, a heavy wooden one with a cushioned seat, as though it must surely be a trick. Finally, though, she sat.

“Do you like the new office?” Victor asked as he took his seat behind the desk. It was a large desk, highly polished. The room had a set of double doors that led out to the garden. There was a thick blue rug on the floor. “I’ve been appointed the Queen’s Apprentice, learning how to keep a palace. Apparently that takes lots of time, work, far too much book keeping and a whole office.”

“I’m sorry, why am I here?” Talmadge asked.

Victor grinned at her. “Wait. We’re missing someone.”

There was a knock on the door. When he called a greeting, two guards escorted Thomas, the disgraced spymaster of Septa, into the room.

Prison obviously had not agreed with Tom. His fine clothes had been replaced by undyed, rough spun cloth. His usually well cared for hair looked greasy.

The guards dropped Tom in front of the desk. Talmadge shied away from her former employer, but Victor’s grin widened. “How’s prison?” he asked. “From what I remember, the food was a little uninspired.”

“Prince Victor,” Tom sputtered.

“Oh, I do love to hear you use my shiny new title,” Victor said, “Especially since the last time we spoke you were calling me a traitor and advising the king to execute me.”

“Sire, I was misled,” Tom said, “My informants-,”

“No, shut your damn mouth,” Victor said, his smile dropping away. “I was your informant, you sneaking coward. You think I’m stupid enough to fall for the same lie you tried to use against me?”

“Again, why am I here?” Talmadge asked.

“Because I want to offer you his old job, and I want him to know I’m offering it to you.”

“Are you kidding?” Tom cried, “She’s an untrained maid, for Creator’s sake!”

“No, she’s a maid who can read all of your codes, and has been feeding you information for years,” Victor said. He leaned across his desk, and glared down at Tom. “You’re a bad spy, but you’re really good at using talented people.”

“I think you’re vastly overstating my talents,” Talmadge said, wringing her fingers.

“This wasn’t my idea,” Victor said, “It was King Samuel’s. He’s just delegating it to me. Though I happen to think he’s right.”

“The king really has lost his mind,” Tom said.

Victor stood. In his fury, his hands glowed blue with magic. “You will watch how you speak of that man in front of me,” he growled. “I owe him my world. Talmadge will be our spymaster, and we’re going to toss you into the same dark hole we threw Marcus.”

“Wait,” Talmadge said, holding a hand up. “Don’t lock him up.”

“Why?” Victor asked, “He was a terrible master to you.”

“But we can use him,” she said, “You and the king think I’m a good spy, but I’m not. It’s just that, well, people are more willing to talk around you if they think you’re a nobody. So, if you tell everyone I’m the spymaster, I won’t learn anything new.”

“Ah, but if people still think this fool is in charge they won’t pay attention to you,” Victor said. “See, I knew you’d be good at this. You can keep him, if you want. You’ll have to watch him carefully, though.”

“Of course,” Talmadge said.

“What makes you think I’d agree to this insulting situation?” Tom spat.

She took a deep breath and stood, looking Tom full in the face for what Victor was sure was the first time. “Well, you can do this, or I’ll pick a pretty face off the street and the king can toss you back in a cell. I can work just as well with any warm body in that seat.”

Tom looked sober at that. Finally, he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm, “Fine. I am happy to serve the throne.”

“Thank you for your service,” Victor said. The guards escorted Tom from the room, and Victor turned his attention back to Talmadge.

“Are you really sure about this?” Talmadge asked, “If this is about me finding those letters, you don’t owe me anything. It didn’t even work. The king was still going to execute you.”

“Madge, if this was just about thanking you, I’d give you a title and some land,” Victor said. “But I cannot afford to have someone I don’t trust as spymaster. I need you to tell me what’s going on in the city.”

“Yes,” Talmadge said, giving him a nod. “You’re right about that. People are angry, and they’re whispering.”

“How many of them are whispering about my wife?” he asked.

“More than we should be comfortable with.”

Victor nodded. “I can’t imagine half of the noble families leaving the court in protest is helping.”

“You and Anthony must stay close to Lenore. She’s in more danger now than ever.”

“Yeah,” Victor said. He stood, and went to the doors to look out at the garden. Lenore was there, with Ramona and the babies. They were napping on a blanket in the sunlight. “You know, she saved this damn city from Marcus. You’d think people would be grateful.”

“And there are hundreds who are,” Talmadge said, “She spent her youth taking care of people behind the Elder Brother’s back. She spins light and darkness into thread. Lots of people are ready to fight for her. They even accept you because of her.”

“That’s the problem,” Victor said, “It’s not just that people are angry, it’s the division. The whole city’s ready to tear each other apart.”

Talmadge smiled, “She’ll win them over. She’s good like that.”

Victor smiled too. “Who knows better than me how easy Lenore is to love?

You can preorder Falling From Grace now. And when you do, you’ll be entered to win a free signed copy of Broken Patterns. Click here for details.

We are just eight days away from the launch of Falling From Grace! That means you only have eight days left to preorder and be entered to win a free signed copy of Broken Patterns.

Click here to preorder now.

And don’t forget to send me a screenshot of your preorder recipt at nicolecluttrell86@gmail.com

 

Sultiana tilted her head back to feel the sun on her bare face. It was the first time she’d felt it without her veil since she’d come of age. She exulted in knowing that she would never wear one again.

She looked down from the sky, and smiled at the scene before her. She stood in the tile covered courtyard in front of the palace of Calistar, her home. Great clay basins overflowing with desert flowers spotted the area. The tiles and fountain were covered in a thick carpet of cherry blossoms, sent as a gift from Queen Shori of Coveline.

Her Father, King Omar, stood in front of the fountain. He was a huge man with a bald head and a neatly trimmed beard. Like all royalty in Calistar, he wore white silk that fluttered in the wind. He was smiling with such pride that it made Sultiana’s heart swell. But her eyes were drawn to Devon.

The man who would be her husband was dressed in noble white silk, with his dagger tucked into his belt. He was conspicuous, being the only white man in attendance, likely in the whole country. The desert wind ruffled his thick curly hair. He was everything she had ever wanted him to be.

Sultiana started down the aisle, the gold coins on the hem of her white silk gown making music as she went. She did her best to keep her eyes on friendly faces. Neva, Omar’s new wife, was standing among Sultiana’s little sisters. She was no more than a few years older than Sultiana. She wore a white veil over her face, with a coiled braid on the top of her head like a crown. Her belly was swollen with child, and she set a hand on it as she beamed at Sultiana.

Aini and Cala, the two younger girls, were trying to stand without bouncing in excitement. Aini, as always, had a crooked veil, and her braid was coming undone. Cala looked just like their mother for who she was named, with an upturned nose and lighter skin than her sisters. Chrissie, the second oldest, was trying to look stern and disinterested behind her veil. As she was too young for such a look, it came off as pouty.

The crowd was full of men and women of Calistar. Some were excited, and tossed flower petals as she walked. Many, too many for her comfort, stood with arms crossed. Many men wouldn’t even look at her, choosing instead to look at the ground or at the people standing in a cluster at the fountain.

She tilted her head high, and smiled for Devon anyway. When she reached him, he held his hands out to her. “You look amazing,” he whispered.

“Truly, you do,” Omar said. He set his hands over theirs, and said, “Brothers and sisters, it brings me the greatest of joy and honor to join together my daughter, Princess Heir Sultiana and Prince Devon of Septa. Theirs was a union decided upon years ago, an arrangement that was to forge a bond of family between Calistar and Septa. This their marriage will do, and so much more.”

He smiled over the crowd, though few smiled back. “They enter their marriage as friends. They have trained and fought together. They share a sacred bond, as the first woman to wield steel magic, and the first man with thread magic. With this foundation of mutual respect and appreciation, and with the gods of both lands smiling upon them, surely they will be ready for whatever the future holds for our great country.”

There was some hissing from the crowd.

“And,” Omar said, talking louder, “Sultiana, as our first ruling queen, will surely bring the smile of the goddesses upon our lands.”

Chrissie made a noise that could have been a snort, but Aini elbowed her in the side.

“Now, before the eyes of our people and the gods themselves, I declare you to be husband and wife.”

Sultiana and Devon leaned towards each other for their first kiss, at least the first one anyone else knew of. Their old training master, Shilom, cheered. He was a shorter man, battle worn, in blue scholars robes. Kadar, Omar’s chief adviser, cheered as well. Kadar’s hair was set in hundreds of small braids, each with a red bead at the end that clacked together as he cheered. Neva, the little girls, and a handful of others joined them. Many others remained silent.

Stella, Princess of Coveline and Devon’s student, hurried to his side as people came to congratulate them. She was a young dragon, blue in color with silver ridges across her long back. As most people in Calistar were not accustomed to seeing dragons on a regular basis, she was given a wide berth.

“Master Devon,” she said, “are you alright?”

“Well, of course,” Devon said, laughing. “I’m wonderful in fact, why?”

“Your hand is twitching,” she said. Her friend Hiro joined them. A full blooded Vondrai dragon, he was longer than Stella with thinner legs. “Can I help you to your rooms?” he asked.

“I’m fine for now, thank you,” Devon said.

“Let’s go into the dining hall,” Omar said.

“Yes,” Sultiana said. She took Devon’s hand, and noticed that his fingers did seem to be twitching. As they led the way into the palace, she said, “Do you need to go to your loom?”

“I think the vision can wait,” he said, “I’m not ready to break up the party.”

A man dressed in the trades tribe yellow came to Devon’s side, and clapped him on the shoulder. He was a young man with a prominent nose. “May I be the first to congratulate you?” he asked, “Surely you have married the loveliest woman in the world. And I should know, because I’ve seen most of it.”

“Thank you,” Devon said, offering his hand to shake. “What’s your name?”

“I am Ferris, the leader of the traders tribe,” he said. “I hope that you will find our tribe more open minded then some others. We are ready to move into the future.”

“Yes, we are,” said a woman who walked next to Ferris. She also wore yellow and like Sultiana, she was unveiled. “Princess, I’m Fidal, and I can’t thank you enough for my new freedom. When my brother and I are abroad, I don’t wear my veil. It’s amazing how itchy it feels when you’re not accustomed to it.”

“So I’ve learned,” Sultiana said, grinning.

“Well,” said an older woman in scholars blue. Sultiana recognized her as Gia, her History and Language instructor from childhood. “If you young girls are going to go about unveiled, I suppose I’ll be alright.” She removed her veil, and bowed to Sultiana. “And I would like to extend a thank you, from the women of my tribe.”

“For what?” Sultiana asked.

“For making history,” Gia said. She turned, and gestured towards the crowd. Women in blue and yellow were removing their veils and letting them flutter away in the wind. Many of them giggled, some looked unsure, some even cheered. Sultiana noticed that the farming women in green, the shepherd women in orange, and what few smith women in red who were present, kept their veils steadily on. She didn’t care a bit. Let them stay behind their veils if they wanted, she would never be bound to one again.

Devon’s hands were shaking. He looked up at the cloud of veils wafting in the breeze, and said, “I’m sorry, but I think I might need to go to our rooms after all, ‘Tiana. Can you help me?”

“Yes,” she said, tearing her eyes away from the sight. She took him by the arm, leaving Omar and Stella to explain.

Sultiana pulled him through the halls of the palace, past the marble pillars that supported the walls covered in carvings and tapestries that showed the history of her people. Their boots clicked over tiles of every color.

Finally, she pulled him into their series of rooms. The sitting room was decorated with a plush red carpet, an ornate table, and a loom with a cushion before it. It was there that she led Devon to. His hands sought the thread and started to fly.

Chrissie and Neva joined them. Neva was holding a plate of food, grape leaves stuffed with lamb and rice. She sat it next to Sultiana.

“People are muttering,” Chrissie said.

“Let them,” Sultiana replied. “The man’s a seer, I don’t know what they expect.”

An image was taking shape on Devon’s loom.

“Having a Septan husband who weaves was hard enough without you letting all of those women take their veils off. Then he’s got to have a little episode,” she muttered.

“Chrissie,” Neva snapped, “you should show more respect for Goddess Malonie. She sent these visions to the prince.”

“I wish She’d send them somewhere else,” Chrissie said.

Devon slumped on his cushion. Sultiana looked at the image. It was a coin, in the process of spinning. On both sides were woman’s faces. One smiled and one wept.

“What is this?” Sultiana asked.

Devon leaned against her, and gratefully took the grape leaf she offered him. “Our nieces,” he said, “I don’t know what it means, but I know it’s them.”

“But they’re not even born yet,” Chrissie said.

Just then, a woven cuff on Devon’s wrist started to glow blue. He smiled, and said, “I can hear you, Lenore. Have they got ten fingers and toes apiece?” After a few minutes, he added. “That’s beautiful. I can’t wait to see them. I’ll talk to you, soon.”

He grinned at Sultiana, and the glow faded from his cuff. “The girls are named Eleanor and Loralie.”

“Big day, all things considered,” Sultiana said.

Preorder Falling From Grace is now available for Pre-order!Falling From Grace and be entered to win a free autographed copy of Broken Patterns. Click here for details.

Don’t forget, Falling From Grace comes out in just nine more days. So you only have nine days left to be entered to win a free signed copy of Broken Patterns! Just send me a screenshot of your preorder recipt at nicolecluttrell86@gmail.com. I’ll send you the first four chapters of Grace right away.

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Hey guys. I just wanted to pop in here and remind you that Falling From Grace launches in just ten days!

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Meet Grace.

A woman of the rebellion, Grace’s life has been one of hardship. Her people live in poverty, under the uncaring eyes of their mad king. So when her brother in law, Calvin, leads an army to overthrow the king, she inspires the women to become healers, witches and warriors.

But once she gets Calvin on the throne, her world only becomes darker.

Given all of the power of the crown, Calvin gives into his darker instincts. While Grace learns to be a witch and queen, Calvin slowly loses his mind. He becomes a crueler king than any the country of Calistar has ever seen. Grace finds that her greatest challenge is overthrowing the king she put on the throne.

 

As you might be aware, I wrote a book that is a companion to my trilogy, Woven.

I might have mentioned it, not sure.

I loved writing Grace, it was a ton of fun. But it was also really difficult! I’m writing another book about a world I’ve already got three years of history with. Three books of already set in stone world-building and an established canon.

There are pros and cons of writing a companion novel for a trilogy already in the world. This is something that I’m sure Suzanne Collins could tell you as well. Let’s take a look at some of them.

Cons

I already had a lot of information in place, and some of it I didn’t like anymore. Broken Patterns was my first published novel. I think it’s pretty good, but I’ve grown as a writer since I wrote it. I’ve learned a lot about world-building and character building. Looking back, if I was to rewrite Broken Patterns I would make some serious changes. But that’s not a choice I have anymore. It’s out there, for better or worse. I think it’s for the better because I would forever rewrite the same story given half a chance. When I now have to write again in that world designed by a younger writer, I found myself wanting to fix things. Things that were already set in stone, that I couldn’t ret-con. More’s the pity.

I had to take time researching my work while I was writing Grace. This meant writing with the first three books on my desk, checking facts and timelines. Yes, I do have a bible of important facts, but not everything I needed to know was in there. Some parts were just nuances. How was Victor mentally at this time? How was he reacting to Grace, to Lenore? I had to re-read the whole trilogy.

And while I was reading the trilogy, I realized some glaring mistakes in the timeline. Things that did not make sense at all. No, I’m not going to point them out, but they’re there. There were some parts that I realized I messed up and had to figure a way out of it. That put a ton of pressure on me while I was writing Grace.

Pros

There is no great loss without some small gain. Yes, the Woven trilogy had some problems. But while I was writing Grace, I got to fix some of those problems. And that was such a blessing! As much of a challenge as this was, it gave me a chance to change things that I wasn’t proud of. 

I’m not the only creator ever to do this. If you’re as big of a Star Trek fan as me, you might remember the tribble episode. There’s a scene where a whole mess of these little cuties are just falling out of a panel in the ceiling. If you look, you’ll see a stage hand’s hand tossing little tribbles out of the hole. 

Way off in the future, in Deep Space Nine, there’s an episode where Sisko and Dax end up on the original Enterprise on the day of the tribble infestation. At one point they have to toss tribbles out of the ceiling panel by hand. Thus explaining the mystery hand in the original series.

Problem solved. That wasn’t a stagehand, it was Dax.

While I did have to do a lot of research on my books, writing Grace took less time than other books. That’s because I didn’t have to do a lot of the world-building over again. I already knew what Montelair was like! I already knew most of these characters, their ins, and outs. That was a metric ton of work that I already had established.

The best thing about returning to the world of Woven, though, was this. I got to see my characters and their world from a different perspective. Grace is a far different character than Lenore. We’ll be exploring that more later. The Brotherhood are the good guys in this one. Grace is a common woman, not a well-born princess. She’s not a mage. She is an entirely different person, living an entirely different life.

And showing the world of Woven from an entirely different set of eyes.