All posts by tricia kristufek

Husher

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He stepped out of the shadows, dark cloak hiding his face and hands.  He walked slowly towards the little girl, her blonde curls still springy in the summer heat.  She began to tremble, backing as far away from the man as her tiny hiding place in the store room would let her, pressing her back to the women behind her.

Kinley took the young girls’ head, stroking her blonde curls back from her face.  She didn’t know the girls’ name.  She would have liked to know, to mentally be able to keep track of every such instance such as this.  Such beautiful curls, such a calm face, to know such suffering.

Kinley looked up at the man in the dark robe.  No, she couldn’t let this man take this child.  Couldn’t bear the pain of this small girl growing up to be used by this withered man, no matter how much potential she had shown.

Kinley stated to chant under her breath, hoping the old man was too intent on his apparent capture of his new ‘apprentice’ to pay attention to his old one.  As he reached forward, the girl screamed, Kinley stood and gripped the old man’s arm, and his memory was gone.

Secrets

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She ran her finger slowly over the dark stubble on his face, tracing
the jagged white scar down to his chin.  He kept his eyes shut,
enjoying the feel of her soft fingertips on his face.  He sighed,
content as he hadn’t been in a long time.

Placing her hand on his muscled chest, she leaned in close, barely
touching his lips with hers.  His heartbeat quickened under her palm
as his body responded to her nearness.  Timidly, she kissed him, eyes
still studying his face under dark lashes.  When he returned her kiss,
she closed her eyes, relishing the feel of him.  Pulling back, his
head following to maintain their kiss, she saw his eyes open.
Beautiful silver-grey eyes stared back at her, traces of puzzlement
visible but quickly vanished, replaced with warmth that threatened to
still her heart.

He reached up to her and hesitated, unsure even then if his touch
would be welcomed.  When she didn’t back away, he placed his rough
fingers on the smooth, pale skin of her face, lightly cupping her
cheek.  She closed her eyes, her hand reaching up to touch the one on
her face.

Her other hand went behind her back, fumbling awkwardly, then
reappeared holding a knife.

Cassie

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“Run, Cassie!”

Feet already in motion, Cassie spared her friend a glance over her shoulder as she ran through the banquet hall.  Arrows pierced the air,
the tapestries burst into flames.  The crowd burst into motion,scattering in an attempt to find shelter from the attack.  Dishes
clanged to the floor, people screamed, but none of it registered in Cassie’s mind.

All that mattered was escape.

Spinning around a fallen Lady, Cassie careened into a hard body.  She bit back a scream, slapping at the wall of chest with her left hand
while digging for her dagger with her right.  Before she could get her dagger free she felt a strong grip on her wrist pulling her towards
the shadowed wall of the room.  She strained to pull away, her mind not registering the hooded figure as familiar.  Fingers closed over
her mouth.

“Shh.”  Hot breath spilled down her neck as her captor whispered into her ear.  “Stop fighting, Cass, we don’t have time.”

Nodding, she turned to see the Prince’s eyes looking out from the cloak’s hood.

At The Ball

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She kept her eyes downcast, but that didn’t stop him from noticing
her.  Her dark hair tumbled in curls down her back, tiny springs
coiled and ready to be pulled upon.  Her tanned skin accented by the
deep blue of her gown and the white lace of the trim, a style that had
come and gone yet looked fresh and new on her.  Her hands fidgeted at
her sides, drawing his attention to her flared hips outlined in her
skirts.

He had to know her.

Breaking away from his group of nobles, he strode towards her.

“Highness? A word?”

Damn.  Not now, he thought, though he almost said it aloud also.  “Sir
Isaac, I was just about to…”

The tall man took his arm, steering him away from his goal towards the
man’s own daughter.  “Never mind, Highness.  I saw you coming and I
knew you’d want to meet my Katherine.  Ah, here she is!”

He spared a glance over his shoulder to see grey eyes looking back at him.

Encounter

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She paused, wiping the sweat from her head with the back of her hand.  The sun beat down on her small clearing, melting the dusting of snow that had fallen overnight.  The need to keep her mind from wandering rather than a need for firewood had driven her out of her bed early, the songbirds greeting the daybreak with an enthusiasm that she lacked.

Now that she’d stopped chopping the firewood, she noticed how quiet it was around her.  Hefting her axe, she slowly turned around, searching for the cause of the tension.  Her corner of the woods was typically left alone, too far from any roads to get to easily and too out of the way for anyone to stumble passed.

Not that anyone knew she was there.

I hope, she thought.  Glancing at her hut, she shifted her stance, not quite able to shake the feeling that someone was watching her.  The hair on her neck prickled up, increasing her unease.  Her head spun around at a cry from her horse gave her the direction she needed.

She only got to take three steps before they were upon her.

Arabelle

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Arabelle.

Her name whispered through his head, seeking out the hidden corners he had abandoned years ago.  Her figure danced behind his eyes, taunting him as she walked away.  Her auburn hair fell in loose curls to hug her figure as she swayed her hips, her sword moving in time with her strong stride.  She didn’t look back.

You sent her away, remember?  Right, the less distractions, the better.  He fingered his sword hilt, trying to banish her from his thoughts and turn them to the task at hand.  Soon, his troop would be leaving, and he would need all the concentration he could muster.  Instead, all he could think of was running his hands up her curves, her muscled body leaning into his…

“Highness?  Are you even listening?”  His squire shook his head.  “Forgive me, Highness, but shouldn’t we be preparing for war?  Not mooning over some nobody.”

Sighing, Lucas refocused on the maps in front of him.

Query

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So, I’ve done it.  I’ve finally sent out a query to an agent about my novella.

I have mixed emotions about this.  While I am trying not to get my hopes up, I find that the damage has already been done.  They are up, no stopping it now.  I also find myself pessimistic, “what ifs” hanging around my head.  What if it’s not good enough?  What if it’s not long enough?

What if they like it?

I’m trying to hope for the latter while realizing the former.  Sure, it’s just one query to one person.  But it’s a start.

Now, off to write something else to take my mind off waiting for an answer!

The Hunted

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My life hasn’t turned out how I wanted it to.

I had dreams.  I was going to be someone.  I studied hard, worked long hours training to be the best.  I was the youngest of my family to ever attend the University.  I was the only of my line to complete the long coursework.  But I wanted more than that.

I wanted love.

I wanted love in the cliche way that young girls dream about.  I wanted to come home to my dinners made fresh, with a handsome face smiling at me as if I was the only person in the world.  I wanted his strong arms to wrap around me, holding me every time like it was the first and last time he would hold me.  I wanted that spark, that romance to last deep into the years we would spend together.  I wanted a sweet proposal, a full-tilt wedding, a house on a hill and bundles of joy.

But it wasn’t to be.  That’s ok, I told myself.  One can still live a full life, while dreams live on in the places where we hide them.  So, I continued my training far past the time where I had mastered it, striving to make some other meaning out of my life.  Perhaps it just wasn’t the right time, I said.  It will happen.  But days turned into years, and in one swift sword strike my life changed.

I’d become one of the Hunted.

Next

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I have several ideas that I’d like to pursue,  but I’m having a hard time picking which one to go with.  While ultimately I just need to pick one and roll with it, I don’t know which idea and characters I’d like to spend the time getting to know.

My ideas include:

Xandra, Guardian of Mankind – I picture her as a mortician to the other world, keeping man from learning of the things that go bump in the night.  She also keeps an Imp with her as a pet.

Melissa – Spy, Faye Spy.  Quick-witted and sarcastic, trying to stay ahead of others that would kill her because she knows too much.

Quickwing – A reinvision of the Pegasus story, Percy Jackson style.

And a few other children’s book ideas, such as filling out my “Bennie Learns To…” series.

There is also the possibility of spending more time with Meryl and Kyra, which should take priority if I ever want to get it published.

Melissa

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All I wanted was to have a normal birthday party.  With balloons, and cake.  Maybe some wine.  And no one crashing through the window shooting at me.

“Duck!” I shouted, smearing Mom to the ground.  I landed hard on her boney hip, the one that was replaced and is now quite literally hard as steel.  A small “oof” escaped in the silence between shots, the gunman either reloading or listening to see if the first round reached its target.  I put a finger in front of my lips, hoping Mom took the hint.  She gave a small nod, and I slowly reached behind to pull out my gun.

The shots had come from the front of my tiny abode, blasting out my front window.  Unfortunately for me, the tall shrub I had growing out there covered any trace of the shooter.  Crouching down,  I slide over to the wall where there was a bit of cover from my side table, the one that would have held the cake if the cake was still in one piece instead of dropped as the shots were fired.

Thirty is going to be a great year.