I am a published novelist. I write fantasy/Dark fiction, and have one series already on book shelves, but I have a number of other books I am writing. When I saw this option, I thought perhaps I could share a little of one of the books I am still writing....
A majestic room bathed in moonlight, trembles from the scene within it. A beautiful woman – her long ebony hair so dark, it shines blue in the moonlight – is bound by irons as she kneels before a commanding throne; the one whom sits within it is glorious in his fury. His long black hair fans out, around him, as his coal black eyes swell with malice while he stares down at the beauty before his feet. The resemblance is uncanny, as though they are family, but for the icy blue eyes, which shown from the woman’s irises. Tears of ice, fall from her eyes, as the majestic man rises to his feet, speaking words for none, but her, to hear.
The beautiful woman, looks up from the floor to gaze at the man before her, with lifeless eyes. She does not argue, she does not respond in any way, she just watches, fearless and obstinate. But, in a sudden flash of light, the chained woman’s hair turns white, her eyes a midnight blue, as she replies to his condemning words. His dark eyes narrow at her form, before he snaps his fingers.
Colour drains from her features, her bright white hair, becoming ebony, once more, as her graceful frame, collapses upon the floor. Without warning, the dangerously beautiful man raises his hand, and at the same time, the crumbled woman’s body fills with light, extracting a scream of agony from her, as the light forces her back to arch. The room becomes blinded in light before a sudden buzzing sound, enters the background, causing the scene to disappear from view.
BUZZ, BUZZ, BUZZ…
Ahh, is that my alarm clock? I slowly open my eyes, to see the familiar ceiling of my bedroom. Another dream, I think, as my hand reaches over to slap my alarm clock.
“Oh, shut up already!” I mutter, as I roll to the edge of my bed, to silence the damn thing properly.
Finally, the insistent buzzing stops. I roll onto my back, staring at the ceiling, as I massaged my temples. What is up with that dream?
“Mum! Are you getting up before I go to school?”
I jack-knife into a sitting position, at the sound of my daughter, Yukiko. “Yeah, I’m up. Be out in the sec!”
I hear footsteps retreating from my bedroom door, signalling my daughter’s departure. With a quick glance at the clock, I swing my feet over the edge of the bed to stand and stretch. My nose starts twitching at the smell of something, absolutely, delicious. Determined to find the source, I exit my bedroom and quickly head for the kitchen. There I find Ichigo, Yukiko’s tutor and – strangely – her nanny, tending to the stove.
“Good morning Ichigo, what amazing breakfast are you making for us this morning?”
Ichigo looks towards me, as I enter the kitchen. “Good morning Akaito. We’re having grilled mackerel, rice, and miso soup.” He responds, returning his attention to the meal.
Mmmm… Mackerel. My favourite, I muse happily, as I head towards the kettle to make some tea.
Yukiko enters the kitchen, removing plates and chopsticks to set the table for breakfast. I turn to look in her direction, a happy smile playing across my face, as I watch.
Without turning to look at me, Yukiko asks, “you were working late, what time did you get in last night, Mum?”
With a wiry smile, I pour boiling water into our tea cups. “Hmmm… Well, I’m not sure, but I got at least four hours sleep.”
Yukiko spins on her feet, her arms fold across her chest as she glares at me.
Here we go… “Don’t forget who the mother is.”
Not listening to my words, Yukiko begins her onslaught. “Mum, you cannot live with such little sleep. You have to look after yourself.”
“Yeah, yeah.” I brush off as I take the tea to the table.
Yukiko, not letting it go, follows in my wake. “Not, yeah, yeah. Do you want to die without the chance to see grandchildren?”
Oh, for goodness sake. How old is this girl? She sounds like a grandmother herself! “Sorry, grandchildren and I should never be said in the same sentence. Don’t age me before my time.” I reply sarcastically.
Shaking her head at me, Yukiko attempts to hide her smirk at my words, as we all take a seat at the table and give thanks for the food. Just as we start to eat, I can hear my phone vibrating on the kitchen bench.
Ichigo leans back on his seat, to look at the screen for me. “It’s Takeshi-san…” Ichigo mutters, his voice tinged with disgust.
Not surprising, really. Takeshi is my ex-boyfriend, and not a very pleasant one at that. Ignoring the insistent rattle, a sombre mood settles on the room as we all continue our meal in silence. My mind wanders off; as I remember the day I broke it off with him.
Takeshi and I, we are at his place, when we got into an argument over, Ichigo, moving into my apartment, again. Takeshi became violent, smashing holes in the walls and breaking some furniture. I ran out of his apartment, telling him I had had enough. The following morning, I was at the train station, heading to my studio, when Takeshi rang me. I remember grabbing out my phone, to see his name displayed across it, before thrusting it back into my bag. Shortly after, I realised I had dropped my train pass somewhere. Fretting over what a horrible day this was beginning to be is when I met him. A smile spreads across my face when I remember. In my panic, a gentle hand tapped on my shoulder. I spun around in haste and – embarrassingly – tripped and fell on top of an absolutely gorgeous man. Mesmerised by his features, I couldn’t move, until he interrupted me with a smile, waving my pass between our – intimately close – eyes. Apologising, I scrambled to get off him. With a slight chuckle, he handed me my pass and continued on his way.
I have seen that stranger many times, since that day. It is as though I am somehow drawn to him. No matter how busy, I sense his presence; my eyes naturally look to him, to always find that he is looking at me also. I should just gain some courage already, and ask him out on a date… I jolt awake from my thoughts, when it finally registers, Yukiko waving her hand in front of my face.
“What is it?” I stutter out in a fluster.
“Oh, you are awake.” She answers sarcastically, “I’ve been trying to tell you, for the past ten minutes that I’m going to school.”
I jump out of my seat, “sorry, I was in my own little world.”
Ichigo chuckles from the hallway, as Yukiko sighs in exasperation, muttering how she’ll probably be late. I follow them both to the door, seeing them off. I return to my room to get dressed, then, with tea cup in hand, I wonder around the lounge room. My eyes catch the sight of a painting I did, when that repetitive dream began, just six months ago. It is the scene of the woman kneeling before the throne of a King, bound by shackles, as she bursts into light, in agony. My eyes, once again, is drawn to the features of this woman, crying out in sorrow. The reason why I can’t stop looking at her is because, for some strange reason, she looks exactly like me.
An alarm sounds from my phone in the kitchen. Shit! Is it that time already?! I rush into the kitchen to collect my belongings, quickly rinsing my mug in the sink; I leave the apartment for my studio. When I exit the building, I am swallowed up by the hustle and bustle within the streets of Tokyo. I freeze amongst the crowd, turning to look behind me. Why can I feel eyes watching me? I must be imagining things. With a quick shrug of my shoulders, I continue my walk towards the train station, ignoring the insistent nagging that I am being followed.
Just across the street from the train station, I pause when I hear my phone ringing. I rustle through my bag, in search of my phone. When I, finally, pull my phone out from its sanctuary; Takeshi’s name flashes across the screen. Leave me alone, already! I think as I thrust the phone back into the depths of my bag. Furrowing my brow in irritation, I look around my surroundings. That is when I lock eyes with a familiar face. It’s him! My frown quickly replaced with a grin of delight, when I see the man who found my train pass is only a metre away. Now’s my chance, I think, building my resolve to finally ask him out on a date, I turn towards him. Suddenly, powerful hands restrain me, to then spin me in the opposite direction.
I am faced with a set of fierce black eyes. Takeshi!
“So Chiyo, you’re ignoring my phone calls. I saw you just put your phone back in your bag!”
My face droops, why now? And in public too! “We’re over, and have been for the past two months! Of course I would ignore your phone calls.” I retaliate. When will he leave me alone?!
Takeshi’s eyes narrow in anger at my words, his lip curling back in a snarl. “We’re not over, until I say we’re over.” He pauses breathing heavily, “You just ran out of the apartment, and never came back! Don’t you think that’s immature?”
You have got to be kidding me… “For God’s sake, we have had this conversation so many times I’ve lost count. We broke up because of your obsession over me! I mean you smashed up your own place because I got a live-in nanny.”
Grabbing the collar of my jacket, Takeshi draws me closer. “A man! Who started out as the tutor, and then became the nanny! Who has ever heard of a man doing that kind of job?!”
I can feel anger building up in me, as I pry his fingers from my jacket collar. “Ichigo works for me, nothing more, and anyway, I do not have to explain myself to you.” I spit out, forcing his hand aside.
Takeshi looks down at the action in shock, before turning his glare back on me. What was he looking at?
Taking a step away from him, I notice his focus look towards the street, before muttering under his breath, “if I can’t have you…”
Frozen in shock, what did he just say? I think. Before I have a chance to ponder his words, Takeshi grabs my upper arm and, with great force, he throws me onto the busy street. I have no time to react, as the front of a bus fills my vision. I squeeze my eyes shut and think, why are the Fates so cruel? Suddenly, strong arms wrap around my waist, spinning me, before our bodies are thrown from impact…