I don't believe it! It's my 100th post. Hmmm, I wish I had something super exciting to offer you. My mind travels fondly back to Kiersten's 200th post where she announced that she had found her agent. (Sigh. I wish that could be my 100th post) Or to Renee's rockin' 100th post party where all our characters were invited. That was a blast. But alas, I have nothing exciting for you. So I was thinking. What have I never done before that a lot of my writer friends have so graciously done? The answer--give a small sample of their books. Now, it just so happens that I started a new book two days ago, Fated, so I think I will swallow my pride and fear, and let you read the first bit of chapter 1. Happy 100th post.
Sadie threw her shoe, the closest thing she could find, out the door with a grunt.
“That’s not going to change my mind,” her father announced loudly from out of sight.
Anybody who thought being a Ruler Fairy meant life was easy had never been the daughter of an unreasonable King.
Her mother came in carrying her shoe. “Sadie,” she started in that annoying soft voice that her mom only used to try to get her to calm down. It only fueled her anger.
Sadie snatched the gold-colored ballet flat from her mom’s hand and slipped it back on her foot. “Mother, you can’t convince me. It’s completely unfair. You have to talk some sense into him.”
“You’re eighteen years old, its time to start realizing what your responsibilities to nature and the kingdom are.” If she kept using that soft voice, Sadie was going to explode.
Her hands flew to her hips and nearly slipped down the sheer fabric of her flowing dress, but she tightened her grip in order to maintain her indignant pose. “Tellers are wrong sometimes.” Hugh, her father’s personal Teller, had been wrong before. Why did everyone only seem to remember the times he’d been right? The future was constantly changing. Everyone knew that rule. How come no one seemed to be taking it into consideration now? “And don’t you think it’s odd that he hasn’t been able to see anything for the last six months and now all the sudden he seems to know my entire future?”
“Sadie,” she chided as though speaking to a two-year-old. “What are you trying to say, that Hugh lied so that your father would stop asking?”
She flung her hands into the air. “Yes! That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
“That’s a strong accusation, Sadie.”
“He made a strong accusation too. He just sealed my fate. Sealed it. My life is over.”
Her mom rolled her eyes like she always did when she thought Sadie was being dramatic. “It can’t be that bad.”
“Brendan is horrid.” Even if he wasn’t, she liked someone else. She couldn’t tell her mother that though or her dad would just try to verify the attraction by taking his name straight to Hugh. “I can’t be certain, but forcing two people to marry doesn’t exactly seem like the right foundation to build a solid relationship on,” she said sarcastically.
Her mom’s eyes traveled around her bedroom, pausing on the clothes that were strewn along the foot of her bed and others that were hanging over the wing-backed chair in the corner. She sighed and then met her eyes again. A new determination burned behind them, causing their hazel color to deepen. Great. Her mom was obviously going to stick with her dad on this decision.
When she spoke her voice backed up Sadie’s suspicion, it was low and steady. “He’ll get over it and so will you. Many Tellers have foreseen many matches and they all turned out beautifully.”
Many Tellers who weren’t lying, she thought. How could she convince her that this wasn’t just about getting her own way? This was about her entire life. “Mom, if I thought for one second that Brendan was my future, I would not be fighting this.” She knew most girls would die for a Teller to foresee their perfect match. But she was not ‘most girls’. “You have to believe me.” She knew she was beyond whining, but she couldn’t help it.
Her mother sighed. “You’re going to give this a chance. Your father won’t have it any other way.”
When her mom left she felt like throwing everything in her room out the door. The silver band she wore around her bicep dug into her skin as her muscles tensed. She ripped it off and tossed it onto the vanity. She wished it would’ve broke. She wished all the jewels that were tucked along the twisted metal had fallen out. Someone or something should’ve been as incensed about this as she was. She sunk into the chair, pulled her feet up with her, and rested her chin atop her knees.
The mirror in front of her was quite obviously on her side. The reflection shining back at her was the picture of distress. Her creamy brown skin had turned ashy. Her eyes, which she always thought were her best feature, had changed to dull gray instead of their normal icy blue. And her black waves of hair had drooped to lifeless.
She reached up and untangled the thin tiara from her locks and set it next to her perfectly unbroken arm wrap. With a determined breath she set her jaw. She was not going down without a fight.