Deathbringer
Tamara Grantham
(Fairy World M.D., Olive Kennedy)
Published by: Crimson Tree Publishing
Publication date: April 25th 2017
Genres: Adult, Fantasy, Romance
Some heroes are fated to save the world. Others are meant to destroy it…Olive Kennedy is all about positive thinking. She’s been stuck on Earth for the past four months, waiting for the spring equinox to arrive so she can return to Fairy World — but she’s staying positive. She’s hopeful she’ll once again see her handsome Viking fiancé who’s waiting for her. She’s optimistic that her mission to reclaim the sword of Dracon — a sword of King Arthur fame and the only weapon capable of killing Theht — won’t result in death and destruction. And then there’s the small matter of an asteroid that’s been ripped out of its orbit and is hurtling toward Earth…no biggie.One last thing — she’s fated to destroy the world. To stop that prophecy from being fulfilled, she may have to sacrifice the one person she loves the most.Good thing she’s staying positive.
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EXCERPT:
I stood and crossed to my bedroom, then grabbed my backpack and slung it over my shoulder. After grabbing my temporary mirror case out of a drawer, I placed it on top of my dresser.
I wasn’t sure if I should cringe or laugh as I scanned my new mirror. I’d found it at the dollar store after a frustrating day of trying to create a new mirror box with no success. I’d bought it because it was absurd and to remind myself that it was temporary.
The plastic box was pink with the name BARBIE scrolled on the top. Inside was a foam liner that had once held five nail polish bottles. I’d cut the foam to make larger slots. Now, it held my five figurines that represented the races of Faythander: Dragon, elf, Wult, pixie, and goblin.
After unlocking the latch, I opened the lid. “You’re fabulous! Inside and out!” sang to me in a bubble-gum voice as I propped the lid open.
As I said, temporary solution. Extremely temporary. It had a mirror under the lid and was the perfect size for my figurines, so it worked. For now.
Scanning my figurines, I found the Wult and removed it from the foam, then propped it upright against the mirror. I needed to get to the Wultlands, and this would be the easiest way to do so.
I ignored the glittery scrolling along the edges of the mirror and focused on the glass. Taking a deep breath, I paused before touching my fingers to the mirror.
Months ago, the portals had started acting erratically. I’d thought the problem had been solved after we’d restored the fairies’ stone, but when I’d returned to Earth four months ago, the portal had almost torn me apart. I’d gotten several stitches in my abdomen because the crossing had been so violent. Since then, I hadn’t once been able to open a portal, but tonight, I had no choice. I needed to return to Faythander before the equinox, and I had one thing in my favor—I hadn’t tried opening a portal with my new Barbie box yet.
Here’s to hoping my luck improved, I thought. Then again, this was my luck we were talking about. Yeah, probably not.
Carefully, I placed my fingertips to the screen, inhaled a deep breath, and then conjured the word to open the portal.
Magic flowed from my heart, through my arms and hands, and into the mirror. Gold and amber swirls licked like fire over my skin as the magic interacted with the mirror, mingling with the blue glow coming from the plastic case.
The power grew inside me as the portal opened. Wind swirled around me until the room disappeared and I floated in a void. Voices came from somewhere. Soft whispers. Among them was a familiar one. The cold, detached voice of Theht.
I am here. I am waiting.
I’d gotten better at tuning her out, but being in a place like this, between worlds, made it almost impossible to keep her away.
Soon, we shall destroy the world together. Deathbringer.
The wind grew stronger and faster, wrapping around me, squeezing the air from my lungs. It compressed me until I couldn’t breathe. Pain coursed through my nerve endings as the pressure weighed me down. I felt as if I’d been buried under millions of tons of sand.
I cried out, but couldn’t hear my voice over the wind. Tears leaked from my eyes. I felt their warmth on my cheeks. In a desperate attempt to survive, I focused on the magic within me, unleashing every ounce, pouring it into the portal to keep it steady.
I thought for sure I was dead when I hit the ground. I landed awkwardly, my shoulder and hips taking the brunt of the impact. My mirror, on the other hand, made a graceful landing in a pile of leaves beside me.
I lay on the ground, panting for air, staring at the faded blue sky through the patchwork of branches with budding green shoots.
“Never again,” I muttered between gasps. Next time, I would find a Viking ship and cross through an underground ocean filled with man-eating sea-snakes before using a portal. “Never. Again.”
On the bright side, at least I’d finally made it back to Faythander. The $.99 investment into the Barbie mirror wasn’t such a bad buy after all.
Author Bio:Tamara Grantham is the award-winning author of more than half a dozen books and novellas, including the Olive Kennedy: Fairy World MD series and the Shine novellas. Dreamthief, the first book of her Fairy World MD series, won first place for fantasy in INDIEFAB’S Book of the Year Awards, a RONE award for best New Adult Romance of 2016, and is a #1 bestseller on Amazon in both the Mythology and Fairy Tales categories with over 100 reviews.Tamara holds a Bachelor’s degree in English. She has been a featured speaker at the Rose State Writing Conference and has been a panelist at Comic Con Wizard World speaking on the topic of female leads. For her first published project, she collaborated with New York-Times bestselling author, William Bernhardt, in writing the Shine series.Born and raised in Texas, Tamara now lives with her husband and five children in Wichita, Kansas. She rarely has any free time, but when the stars align and she gets a moment to relax, she enjoys reading fantasy novels, taking nature walks, which fuel her inspiration for creating fantastical worlds, and watching every Star Wars or Star Trek movie ever made. You can find her online at www.TamaraGranthamBooks.com.
Deleted Scene
Dreamthief Deleted Beginning Scene
I started writing Dreamthief in 2011, and since then, the book went through several major drafts. In fact, I completely rewrote the first chapter. In my original version, Olive goes to visit two elderly women, one of which has depression. These characters were based on two old ladies I used to know while I lived in Galveston. Ms. Shot (name changed) would come to visit me at all hours during the day. She had sensational stories to tell, but few people to share them with. I never saw her sister much, as she had some health issues. For some reason, the memory of Ms. Shot stayed with me and landed in this early draft of Dreamthief.
Ultimately, I deleted these two characters in favor of a young man named Elmore. I was trying to aim for the stereotypical nerd who had layers beyond what was on the surface, and poor Ms. Shot and her sister Ruth didn’t fit the stereotype.
However, these two still made fun characters, and I’m so thrilled that they finally get their time in the spotlight.
You’ll also note that Olive doesn’t have her mirror box in this scene. The reader wasn’t introduced to her mirror until later when she goes to meet Jeremiah, her godson, which was another reason why I wanted to rewrite it. I thought it was important the mirror box got introduced in chapter one.
From Chapter ONE, Dreamthief, Original Chapter written in 2011…
Ms. Shot led me through the living room to a door opposite the kitchen. She turned to me, her voice low. “Ruby’s in bed. Refuses to get out, even for Jeopardy.”
“How long has she been in there?”
“Two weeks. She woke up week before last like usual. Watched Price is Right and then went to bed. Said she wasn’t feeling well but won’t say why. Dr. Hill calls it depression. Baloney, is what I call it.”
I glanced through the door. Ruby didn’t resemble her sister. Her cheeks were more filled out. She looked like the sort of old lady who would offer you hard candies any time you visited, who would bake the world’s best cupcakes and give them to trick-or-treaters, whose face would light up any time you said hello. Instead of a smile, her face twisted in a frown, in pain. I knew the look. I’d seen it too many times to count.
Ms. Shot watched me, part of her hoping I could help, and the other part suspicious.
I wanted to help, but so far, I hadn’t found what I needed.
“May I go inside?” I asked.
Ms. Shot nodded, opened the door.
I stepped into the bedroom, searching. Ms. Shot followed.
On a wall near the bed sat a china closet. Fairy teacups, figurines, statuettes.
Bingo.
The closet, the end table, every surface available. All fairies.
I turned to Ruby. She eyed me from the bed with a sour expression.
“Do you collect these?” I aimed for a polite tone. Being raised for half my life in Texas, it’s not too hard to conjure up.
Ruby nodded.
I stepped to the china closet. Dust covered most of the figurines. I focused on a few interesting pieces. Time worn, their little faces like something from the Dick and Jane books.
“How long have you been collecting?”
Ruby shot me a blank stare. Her mouth slacked, but she didn’t answer.
“’Bout forty years,” Ms. Shot answered for her sister.
Impressive.
“Ruby, I know this is going to sound strange, but do you remember the first piece you collected?”
I got the blank stare for an answer. Ms. Shot rounded on me. “What’s this all about? I thought you were here to help. This some kind of voodoo or what?”
“It’s no voodoo, ma’am.” That was all the explanation she’d get. If I told her the truth, I’d be back outside in the rain.
I scanned the china closet, scrutinized each piece. All the fairies not covered in dust I immediately excluded. Any fairies with steampunk or gothic themes: out.
That left me with a row of fairies at the bottom of the shelf. I knelt, peering at each one with a carefully trained eye.
That’s right. I stare at people’s junk for a living. Hey, I never said my job was glamorous.
One of the little faces caught my attention. A male fairy—a little boy with a dog snuggled at his feet. With the chipped nose, Leave it to Beaver kind of face, and the yellowed paint, I guessed it to be at least forty years old.
I pointed at the figurine. “When did you get this one?” I asked Ruby.
Ruby focused on the statuette but didn’t answer. Ms. Shot crossed her arms. “I think you ought to leave.”
I ignored her. “Do you remember?”
Ruby only stared.
With careful fingers, I picked up the collectible and walked to Ruby. I took her hands in mine, then placed the statue on her open palm. A strange expression came over Ruby’s face.
“Lonnie,” she whispered in a cracked voice.
“Who’s Lonnie?” I asked.
“Our brother,” Ms. Shot answered. “He’s dead. Farming accident. Crushed by the hay-baler.”
“How long ago?”
Ruby exhaled. She ran her hands over the little figure. “Forty years.”
“You collected this piece soon after he died?”
She nodded. “It looked so much like him—the way I remembered him as a boy. Always had a dog with him. Wherever he went, there’d always be a dog that followed.”
I pointed at the tiny pair of wings sprouting from the statue’s back. “This statue has wings, Ruby. Why do think you collected a figure like that?”
“The wings.” She ran a wrinkled finger across the ceramic wings. She looked as if she were trying to remember, but couldn’t.
“Fairies,” I answered for her.
Ms. Shot heaved an exasperated sigh from the corner of the room. “You don’t have to listen, Ruby. I’ll tell her to go if you—”
“No,” Ruby answered. In her eyes, I saw a flicker of hope. “What about the fairies?”
“Ruby, I know this sounds strange, but you’ve been collecting these items because you’re trying to relive a memory. Sometimes when people suffer a tragedy, like a loved one dying, they can’t handle the grief. When this happens, their enhanced emotions create a portal to a realm called Faythander—a fairy world.”
I leaned closer. “You’ve been there, Ruby. After Lonnie died.”
“How?” she whispered.
“When a person crosses from our world to the fairy realm, the creatures there oftentimes take pity on us. They help you forget your pain. And for a time, you’re happy. But when you come back home, the crossing makes you forget everything. Faythander, the creatures there, the fairies—everything. Somewhere within a person’s subconscious, they hold on to the memory. You collected these items because they reminded you of something familiar.”
Ms. Shot blew out an exasperated breath of air. “Of all the—”
“Let her speak,” Ruby cut in.
I took Ruby’s hand. “I can help you remember, if you like.”
Her gaze lingered on the statue. She nodded.
I turned to Ms. Shot who still lurked in the corner. “Do you have a mirror?” I asked her.
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