Eldala

Welcome

2013-04-21T07:06:00.000-07:00

Whether you're a new fan or an old one, welcome to the blog for my Eldala novels. You can find links to Eldala's first chapter, character photos, reviews, and all the different places you can find Eldala in its various formats.

I've also posted news on Eldala's sequel Black Heart, and you can read the current Prologue.

Once you've looked at those, you might want to visit my webpage and blog. If you're on Facebook, you can find a fan page there as well.

Updates:

January 2, 2012

Posted a scene for the "No Kiss" Blogfest from Black Heart.

July 3, 2011

Posted two more pictures of Kieran (Steven Waddington as Richard The Lionheart)

May 1, 2011

Put up a link to a fun interview by February Grace

April 30, 2011

Posted information on discounted copies of Eldala on Smashwords and Lulu.

April 20, 2011

Posted a review by Ashley Knight.

April 13, 2011

Posted a review by Margo Berendsen

March 26, 2011

Posted a review by Donna Hole.

Posted a review by Olivia J. Herrell

December 6, 2010:

Posted a link to a blog post by February Grace: Swept Away by a Story and Loving it

December 3, 2010:

I've just posted Chapters 1 - 6, and I added a "Get to Know me Through Eldala" post.

Praise for Eldala
"A sweeping story of family, friendship, love and war, Eldala takes you to another time and place that grabs your imagination and pulls you in.... Michelle has created a beautiful, detailed world that you'll enjoy getting lost in." -- Kristie Cook, author of Promise

"Michelle skillfully weaves the beauty of goodness and love with the despair of evil into a tapestry of hope and renewal." -- Tracy Keck, Seed Thoughts

"A great coming-of-age story." -- Lisa Yarde, author of On Falcon's Wings"Magical, like Lord of the Rings." Anne M., reader

For more reviews, click the "Reviews for Eldala" tab under my header.

New Pictures of Kieran

2011-07-03T15:09:00.000-07:00

Purely for inspirational purposes of course. These are two screen captures from Heroes and Villains: Richard the Lionheart, played by Steven Waddington.

For more of my characters, you can go here: Character Pictures

Eldala discounted on Smashwords and Lulu

2011-04-30T12:05:00.000-07:00

One of the things I appreciate about being a self-published/indie author is that I can set the price of my book and make up discounts whenever I want. For the month of May, I've discounted Eldala on Smashwords to $1.99. It's available in these e-formats:

Online Reading (HTML)
Online Reading (JavaScript)
Kindle (.mobi)
Epub
PDF
RTF
LRF (for Sony Reader)
Palm Doc (PDB) (for Palm reading devices)

Go to Eldala's Smashwords page and enter coupon code LQ89P at check out.

If you prefer having an actual book in your hands, I've discounted Eldala on Lulu 30%. For the month of May it will be $13.99. On top of that, Lulu is offering a 15% discount on all orders until May 31. Just use coupon code MAYSAVE305 at check-out. That puts the price down below what it usually costs me to order it.

Of course, it's still available in Kindle on Amazon, and also in paperback. However, if you purchase the paperback on Amazon, you'll get the first version instead of the new and improved version.

Review by Ashley Knight

2011-04-20T20:20:00.000-07:00

If you're looking for a book to whisk you into another world - one that will make you forget your cares & concentrate soley on the characters the book creates, Eldala is for you. It is a lovely book - one I could not put down. I read the iBook version in a day. The main character, Keiran, is strong but human in his weakness - very relatable & very well described. The tale is well thought out & each of the many characters has their important place. I loved Keiran's ability to control the elements, to heal, etc (don't want to reveal too much). The stones were something new & unique to what I've read & I enjoyed the bond it created between the holders immensely. I liked the fact that the lovers didn't immediately fall in love. Nicely written - keeps the readers on the edge of their seats. I could see this making a very nice middle earth type film. Beautifully described, exciting action scenes, tasteful lusty moments.

There were a few things i thought could strengthen Eldala: the iBook repeated a few paragraphs between pages (I'm sure this is iBooks fault & not the authors fault). One paragraph stated a horse whickered - I'm not sure what that is - I'm thinking the author meant nickered.

As with many first books, there were quite a few passive sentences throughout the pages that could have strengthened the book as a whole had they been caught & modified. Please don't let these from very minor concerns sway you from reading Eldala. It is an exciting, romantic, beautiful read & I look forward to more works from this budding author.

- Ashley Knight, author of Fins & Fathom.

Review of Eldala by Margo Berendsen

2011-04-13T20:02:00.000-07:00

New writing and blogging friend Margo Berendsen of Writing at High Altitude was kind enough to post this on Goodreads. Thank you, Margo.

Warning: This review has spoilers.

It's been a long time since I've read high fantasy, but Eldala makes me want to read more. This story has some great sword-fighting, a few attacks by mythical creatures, an evil sorceress who holds the kingdom of Teleria under a curse --- but what makes Eldala really stand out from other fantasies with similar elements is the special "magic" called Eldala, a heart-bond that begins when two young friends exchange gifts and start to "grow together in mind and heart." But I can't say too much about this heart-bond without spoilers!

Kieran, the main character, starts off with a "let me play it safe" attitude, and his journey to becoming a true, self-sacrificing hero is a bumpy one that you can't help cheering him along.

But primarily Eldala is a love story.

On page two, Keiran muses that "there was only one woman for him. He just had to find her again." I couldn't resist those two simple sentences! I am a sucker for a quest to recover a lost love! Add into this mix the idea of Eldala, a heart-bond, and I was hooked.

The idea of a special magic being associated with love was very intriguing to me, and beautifully executed in this book. So many of us have a special song that we share with our loved ones, but Eldala puts a really neat twist on this idea of a love song. Many of us have experienced dreams of love, or our loved one, but Eldala involves dreams in a magical way.

There is another magical element in the story, Keldar stones, that also fascinated me. The idea of a magic talisman or amulet certainly isn't a new one, but there's something special these stones do that is so cool!

And the magic that Kieran pulls off in the butterfly scene just took my breath away! Oh my gosh soooooo romantic! And romantic in the very best way. Not sappy.

I can't help myself I also have to gush over the beautiful but heart-breaking scene where Jessa girds Kieran for battle.

The only problem I had with this book is that Kieran doesn't find Jessa until about a third of way through - there's still lots of action and world-building but the story doesn't really take off until he finds her (okay sort of a small spoiler: actually what happens is she finds him). And then the roller coaster really begins. There are obstacles at every turn. But this is where all the careful world-building/plot-building pays off because they are believable obstacles. Not the least of which are some of the genuine insecurities and misunderstandings that complicate even true love - I liked these realistic touches to Kieran's and Jessa's relationship.

Review by Olivia J. Herrell

2011-03-26T10:39:00.000-07:00

Fellow blogger, Olivia J. Herrell of That Rebel with a Blog posted this review March 26, 2011. Thank you, Olivia.

"Eldala, Heart of my Heart"

Thank you, Michelle Gregory, author of Eldala. I finished reading your book a couple of nights ago and found it charming, delightful and, to be perfectly honest (I'm showing my guts here), enlightening. It's a tale of two people whose hearts become entwined then are wrenched apart.

Prophecy, fate, magical curses and power all play a hand in Kieran and Jessara's lives. Though set in a different time and place, I couldn't help but draw parallels between the curse upon Teleria and the utter chaos going on in the world around us today.

Closer to home, watching these two characters dance around each others 'stories' gave me a powerful insight in to my own love relationship. What appears to be missing, may not be. And what is as plain as the nose on your face to one person may not be so evident to the other.

Thank goodness these two had fate and a talented writer prodding them together. In real life (mine) that is not usually the case. I almost lost my Eldala.

Understanding, like inspiration, often comes from the most unlikely place. Who'd a thunk that reading a love story peopled with evil despots and curses and magic (read fantasy) would clue me in to what a big lug I've been for the last seven years.

Thank you, Michelle Gregory (my fellow HSP) from the bottom of my heart. And, thank you to my Eldala, for not letting go.

To everyone else, if you like a good love story spiced with danger, intrique, a kingdom to be saved and a people to be freed, Eldala is your ticket.

If you're touchy feely, like me, order the paperback version. If you're more like my sister-in-law, Carolyn, and prefer your books in digital form, you'll find those, too. But, either way, grab your copy soon.

OH YES! And thank you to Christine Hole at The Writers Hole. I won my copy of Eldala in her You've Come a Long Way Baby Contest/Blogfest and how lucky for me. Thanks, Christine!

~ Olivia J. Herrell

51 copies of Eldala downloaded? I'm blown away

2011-03-15T19:19:00.000-07:00

Whoever you are, all 51 of you, and you know who you are, many thanks for downloading Eldala from Smashwords. It was hard to believe that many people wanted to read my story. I know Donna Hole's great review had a lot to do with it because after she posted, the numbers went way up and stayed there.

I have a favor to ask, a way you could help this indie author, though it still feels strange to ask --

If you discover that you still like it by the end, would you post a review on Smashwords and Amazon? Even a sentence or two would work. You can find links to my Smashwords and Amazon pages on my sidebar.

If you're really enthusiastic about it and want to go further, could you post on your blog? I'd be happy to do some kind of giveaway and promote your blog here as well. if you're a writer and have a book out there, I'd be happy to return the favor.

Review by Donna Hole

2011-03-09T06:11:00.000-08:00

Fellow blogger Donna Hole was kind enough to give me this review in March 2011. Thank you, Donna.

Warning: this has spoilers

Eldala begins strongly with a prologue of the chase of King Arathor as he spirits his infant son Aiden away from danger, making the ultimate sacrifice to give up his beloved son and hide him in obscurity for to childs safety. The story is firmly grounded in fantasy by the use of a conjured wall of fire to make good the escape.

The story quickly introduces the main characters - Kieran (Aiden) and his cousin Gilrain - and exposes the overall plot for Kieran to accept his heritage as Crown Prince of Teleria, discover the location of his father King Arthor and pursuade him out of hiding, gather an army to defeat the Zorgoran Queen Ciara and end The Curse that blights all the lands, and reunite the races of Telaria and Baraca with a marriage to the Malazia.

To accomplish all the burdens his kingdom has placed on him, Kieran must first find the stolen Malazia Jessara, rescue her from slavery, and then convince her that the Eldalafar (a dance that binds the heart to the partner for all eternity) they shared was destiny, not a mistake achieved in childhood foolishness.

Mrs. Gregory builds a world rich in unique denizens - both human and monstrous - and doesn't stint on the use of magical spells, curative potions, respected Seers, and earth stones that connect the hearts and minds of its wearer over great distances.

The true strength of this novel is in the romance between Kieran (Telarian King Aiden) and Jessa (Jessara, Baracan Malazia). Two lovers torn apart in childhood by abduction and the animosity of their races; a sword fight to the death between rivals; a king more comfortable in the smithy than the council room; a rebel Malazia more suited as a warrior than spiritual leader. Rippling muscles, curvatious ladies, the angst of forbidden love. And all the sensual pleasures inherent in a passionate kiss; both forbidden and fulfilled.

Eldala had me frequently fanning my heart between breathtaking descriptive narrative and the heartwrenching scenes of two lovers torn apart by fuedal responsibilities, miscommunications, and cultural animosity.

Perhaps the essense of the novel can be summed up with the most memorable line for me:

"Courage is not the lack of fear," Kieran said, "but instead is the decision that something else is more important than your fear."

"The Writing of a Novel" OR "What the heck does her author page status mean?"

2011-02-01T09:41:00.000-08:00

I get this a lot—someone who doesn’t write asks me about the progress on my sequel and I tell them, “I’m in my x# draft.” And then they look at me with that kind of “deer in the headlights stare,” or they nod their head and smile, probably thinking, “What the heck did she mean?” Which leads me to why I’m putting up this post.

If you don’t write, you may have no idea what I mean when I post in my status about writing “9000 words for the third draft of my sequel.” So I thought I’d try to explain in non-writer terms the process I go through when writing a novel. First, you need to know that this process varies from writer to writer, but generally we do this the same way. Some writers are just faster. They’ve done this so many times it’s like second nature. Some skip steps. Second, it will sound like the steps progress in a nice orderly fashion, but there can be a lot of backing up to the previous step.

Ahem…the easiest way to do explain this is to use an analogy a friend and I came up with a few years ago—the analogy of moving into a house, and since I’ll be moving in the near future, it seems appropriate.

First draft = Buying the house you want and moving your stuff in. The house is like the general structure I want for my story (plot) and the furniture is like the events I use to tell the story.

This is where I decide on what my story will be about (plot) and who I want to have tell it (characters) and how I want to tell it. This is the stage I absolutely love. My mind can play because I’m not worried about how my story sounds as it comes out. I don’t care if I call a character by the wrong name or if things don’t make sense or if I’m not following the rules on how to write a story. I just write. The words pour out of my mind so fast sometimes that my fingers can hardly keep up on the keyboard. My word count goes up by at least 1000 words per day, usually more. I can get a first draft written in a few months, depending on time constraints.

By the end of the first draft, I’ve discovered what my story is really about. For example, in Eldala, I thought my story was about a potter who finds out he’s a prince and he has to travel around and finally overcome the evil king. When I reached the end, I realized that wasn’t the story I really wanted to tell. I wanted it to be deeper, I wanted the stakes to be higher, and I wanted Kieran to have to sacrifice something in order to win. So I started over.

The second draft = Doing a major remodel of the house you bought (adding on rooms, getting rid of some of them, knocking out a wall, extending the porch, remodeling the kitchen, etc) and deciding which pieces of furniture to keep.

The general plot doesn’t change, but parts of it change. I write more slowly because I don’t want to have to change as much in subsequent drafts. I think things through before I write them. I re-write scenes several times to get them just the way I want them. Since I’m not under a contract with a publishing house and am not under a deadline, there are days when I have to stop to let my mind rest. If I get stuck on a scene and don’t know what’s supposed to happen there, I may go a week or two without writing until I figure out what to do.

In Eldala’s second draft, I changed Kieran’s character from potter to blacksmith. The king was bad, but his queen was worse. She had the land under a curse. I also added the Eldala connection with Jessa. I kept the parts about Kieran having to travel, but I raised the stakes for him. If he became king, would he have to give up his Eldala? Did he have the courage to be king? I added the battle with the Zagorans, the part about Kieran the Valiant from the past, tied the past and the present together.

The story gets its final structure, but there are some details to add in the next stage.

The third draft = Painting your house, putting in some new carpet, and arranging the furniture.

Not a lot changes in my third drafts. I might move parts of the story and take things out that aren’t necessary, but the plot pretty much stays the same. By now I’ve discovered the story I really want to tell. I add a scene here or there. I add description. I fix my dialogue between characters. I take out unnecessary words—what some authors call “writing tight.” And then I send it to another writer for an outside opinion.

Fourth drafts and beyond = Hanging pictures, adding pillows to the couch, updating the window coverings, putting knick knacks on the bookshelves.

Any draft after the third draft is about cosmetic details, catching spelling errors, grammar errors, taking out a few more words, etc. The structure of the story doesn’t change at all. This is where a writer gets the story ready to publish. For writers who want to have a publisher publish their book, this is where they get their manuscript ready to send to agents and editors. Some writers call this “polishing” their story.

As a self-publisher, there is also the stage of formatting the manuscript so I can upload it to my printer (Lulu.com) so they can turn it into a book. Once they’ve printed it, I order a proof copy so I can make sure all the chapter headings are in the right place, check for typing errors, make sure the words ended up where I wanted them, check the cover to make sure the colors are good. For Eldala’s first printing, I had to go through this stage two or three times. I hope to not have to do that for Black Heart.

So there it is—probably more than you ever wanted to know about how writers put together their novels. At least now when some writer tells you they’re stuck on their third draft and they have no idea what to do next, you can nod with understanding.

And if you want to read the very first draft chapter of Eldala, you can read it here: Eldala's First Chapter, first draft.

Eldala now on Nook

2011-01-06T06:08:00.001-08:00

in an effort to get Eldala on as many sites as possible and still maintain my sanity and some writing time, it's now on Nook.

Eldala on Nook

Eldala on Kindle

2010-12-26T07:21:00.000-08:00

After thinking about it for 3 years, Eldala is finally on Kindle. i think it's a relief to have it done.

Eldala on Smashwords

2010-12-10T15:09:00.000-08:00

The big news today is the Eldala is now in multiple digital formats on Smashwords. That still amazes me. From now until Christmas, you can use coupon code AF44X to get 50% off. Click the link in my sidebar to go straight to Smashwords.

Review of Eldala by Lisa J. Yarde

2010-12-01T13:22:00.000-08:00

Lisa J. Yarde, a.k.a. The Brooklyn Scribbler, and author of On Falcon's Wings, had already given me a great review on my "Other Reviews" page, but she sent me another that's more in-depth. Thank you, Lisa.

Warning: This has spoilers.

“You now have a choice, and it will take great courage to choose the right. From this moment on, you will be walking the path between who you are now and who you were born to be. All I am asking you to do is let yourself make the journey….” – Arathor’s letter to Kieran, Eldala

In Eldala by Michelle Gregory, Kieran, the orphaned heir to the throne of Teleria discovers the truth of his origins in a letter from his father King Arathor. When Kieran discovers the truth behind his identity, he goes on a quest to recapture his father's kingdom, and find the childhood friend he lost. Little does he know that she is key to unlocking his destiny.

As a baby, Kieran becomes the adoptive son of a blacksmith. His father, King Arathor asks the man to shelter the child from the kingdom’s enemies. On his twentieth birthday, Kieran discovers his unexpected heritage. Although he angrily rejects the truth at first, after Kale produces Arathor’s sword, Kieran is hard-pressed to obstinately deny the past. He has seen the long-hidden weapon in his dreams. Another image from the past also haunts him; the memory of a dark-eyed friend, Jessara, who was lost to raiders in the forest during their childhood. Prompted by memories of her loss, Kieran assists a young woman against a brutal soldier and must flee to avoid the authorities. He reluctantly seeks out Arathor, with his mischievous foster cousin as a companion. Along their journey, Kieran discovers the dangers of the world outside his village. When a beast attacks his cousin in a cave where the young men have sought shelter, Kieran soon learns that their rescuer is his father Arathor. It is Keiran’s destiny to restore Telaria to its former glory, and unite its warring factions under a king’s rule. His quest may also allow him to discover Jessara’s fate and rescue her. But before he can do that, Arathor’s enemies capture him.

Eldala is as much Jessara’s story as it is Kieran’s. Although she was prepared for marriage with her relative Stefan from childhood, Jessara’s chance meeting with Kieran changed her. It is a mysterious, yet deep connection that has persisted despite the time and distance between them. Now, Jessara lives a miserable existence as a slave in the palace of the usurper Rahnak, whose lust frightens her. His queen Ciara is especially dangerous and volatile. When a wounded stranger arrives at the palace, seemingly destined for marriage with Ciara’s daughter, Jessara nurses him back to health. She also feels a powerful pull toward him, and recognizes it is Kieran. The pair has greater worries than an awkward reunion. Escape from Rahnak and Ciara’s clutches seems near impossible, and unless Jessara and Kieran can put aside their hesitancy and suspicious, their future and that of the Telarian people seems bleak.

As a fan of very limited areas in genre fiction, I surprisingly enjoyed exploring the fantasy world Ms. Gregory has created in Eldala. She accomplishes it by keeping the reader focused on the diverse cast of characters, especially the lovers. It helps that the chemistry between Jessara and Kieran is palpable and intense. Jessara is admirable for her unfailing courage and love for Kieran, despite the intervening years. The emotional journey that Kieran undertakes, in which he learns to be a fighter and a leader of many people, is inspiring – the coming-of-age for a young man who discovers he can be more that he ever anticipated. The characterization is very good; Kieran’s pain, suffering, confusion and joy laid bare on the pages of Ms. Gregory’s work allows the reader to intimately know his hopes and fears. I thoroughly enjoyed Kieran and Jessara’s journey, and hope to read more from Ms. Gregory in the future.

Eldala goes on sale today!

2010-11-24T12:08:00.001-08:00

in honor of uploading my Eldala revision document to Lulu for conversion to pdf (a slow, arduous process that made me want to tear my hair out this morning), i decided to discount the First Edition (doesn't that sound official?) 40%, down to $13.18 plus shipping, but ONLY on the Lulu website.

Christmas is coming up and this would be the perfect time to buy an adventure novel for that reluctant teen reader. i have numerous reports from moms i know that their teens, who previously didn't read a lot, couldn't put Eldala down.

so without further ado, here's the link to my lulu storefront:

Michelle Gregory on Lulu.

Welcome

2010-06-14T14:13:00.000-07:00

Whether you're a new fan or an old one, welcome to the blog for my Eldala novels. You can find links to Eldala's first chapter, character photos, reviews, and Eldala's Amazon.com page.

I've also posted news on Eldala's sequel Black Heart, and you can read the current Prologue.

Once you've looked at those, you might want to visit my webpage and blog. If you're on Facebook, you can find a fan page there as well.

Praise for Eldala

"A sweeping story of family, friendship, love and war, Eldala takes you to another time and place that grabs your imagination and pulls you in.... Michelle has created a beautiful, detailed world that you'll enjoy getting lost in." -- Kristie Cook, author of Promise

"Michelle skillfully weaves the beauty of goodness and love with the despair of evil into a tapestry of hope and renewal." -- Tracy Keck, Seed Thoughts

"A great coming-of-age story." -- Lisa Yarde, author of On Falcon's Wings

"Magical, like Lord of the Rings." Anne M., reader

Proposal Scene, Final Draft

2010-02-02T14:02:00.000-08:00

This is the scene that made it into the novel. This is still one of my favorite scenes.

For the next few hours, they walked in the places where they’d played together as children. It was the first time they’d really been alone with each other since being in Korisan. When they came to someplace familiar, one of them would say, “Do you remember build-ing a fort here?” or “This is where you showed me how to whistle,” or “This is where we fell into the creek.” Kieran was pleased to note that Jessa seemed happier than he’d ever seen her.

When they reached a wide clearing, Jessa stopped. “This is where I taught you to dance.”

Kieran started to hum their song and extended a hand. “Shall we?”

Her eyes widened, and she gave him a smile that only magnified her beauty. She took his hand, laid her head on his chest, and they started to dance to the song of the Eldalafar, waltzing through the forest as if it were their private ballroom. Soon, he felt the song in her reaching out to the fire in him, and he knew something in her had changed. Her heart had opened up to him in a way it never had before.

In time, they were under the tree again, and he gave her a hand up so she could climb to the lower branches. He followed and sat next to her. After a few moments of silence, Jessa took in a quick breath.

Her hand was on the names “Kieran and Jessara.”

“When did you do this?” she asked.

“I carved that just before you were taken.”

When she looked at him, he felt the anguish she’d carried for ten years. It mingled with his own, and for a time he held her as they wept for all the years they’d lost.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t able to save you that day,” he whispered into her hair.

She put her hand on his face. “Kieran, I know you tried.”

He wiped the tears from her eyes and then said, “Marposa nish tehai.” In a matter of minutes, Kieran was pleased to see that hun-dreds of butterflies had landed on or around the tree. Many were on Jessa and some were on him.

Jessa’s eyes widened in astonishment. “Did you do this?”

“Just for you, Jess.”

******

If there had been any doubt in Jessa’s mind about Kieran’s love, this moment had erased it.

She couldn’t believe how many butterflies were here, and she recognized only a few—Monarchs, swallowtails, skippers, fritillaries. They seemed to wear every color of the rainbow. She wished she had time to look at each fluttering jewel.

And then she felt Kieran slow time so she could.

After what seemed like hours, she jumped from the tree and Kieran followed. She leaned into him and put her arms around his waist, feel-ing his heart nestled beside hers.

“Thank you for bringing me here,” she murmured, “and for the butterflies.”

Kieran tipped her chin up and held her eyes with his. “I hoped you would like this.”

“I do.”

She still didn’t understand why or how Kieran loved her, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that he did love her.

When he moved in to kiss her, his scent was wild and inviting. As she reached up to kiss him back, she felt the last petal of her heart open and realized the truth. It was time to tell him.

“Kieran, I love you.”

A look of surprise crossed his face. Then he dropped to one knee and tried to speak, but his voice faltered. She took his hand to encourage him.

“Jessara, my Eldala, will you marry me?”

She pulled him up and looked into his stunning eyes. Her heart was beating a rapid staccato, but her voice was steady and sure. “Yes, Kieran, I’ll marry you.”

He wrapped his arms around her, and she drew his head down and kissed him, all the while looking into his eyes. He pulled her closer and kissed her mouth and eyes and neck with a fierce passion he’d never shown before, as if he’d been waiting until now to show her how much he adored her.

I've Come a Long Way

2010-02-01T14:01:00.000-08:00

The lovely and talented Christine Hardy has given us the opportunity to show how our writing has improved. I chose a proposal scene from one of the earlier drafts of Eldala. At the end, I'll give a link to the final version.

Jessa was wearing the purple dress again and Kieran was captured by her beauty, watching her every move. While he tried to eat, he waited with nervous anticipation for the meal to be finished. He wanted to be alone with her. He wondered if he would be able to ask her the question that had been on his mind for so long.

When the meal was finally over, he took her hand and invited her to ride with him. She agreed and took his arm as they went out the door. He saddled Fallon and helped Jessa up, sitting in front of her. She wrapped her arms around him as he spurred the horse towards the shore.

The full moon reflected off the water, and they rode in silence, listening to the wave’s crash onto the shore.

“I’m going to miss this,” she said. “And you most of all.”

He could feel her stifle a sob against his back. He stopped the horse and dismounted, helping her to the ground. They wove their fingers together and walked along the shore. After a few minutes, Kieran led her towards the bluff.

Where are we going?” Jessa asked.

“A place Kale told me about.”

When they reached the spot, Jessa let out a quick breath. They were in a narrow grotto, carved by a waterfall that spilled from the top of the bluff and came down in ribbons over moss-covered boulders. Each side of the grotto was lined with ferns and grasses.

Jessa sat on a boulder and trembled as Kieran dropped to one knee.

His mouth was dry and he wasn’t sure how to start. He swallowed hard and took Jessa’s hand.

“Might you consider…?”

Why was this so hard? He knew that she loved him and that he had to do this. He just wasn’t sure about the timing. His only concern was that if he didn’t ask her now, he might not have the chance for months. And he wanted her to have time to consider her answer.

Gathering his courage, he looked into her eyes and asked, “Jess, will you marry me?”

She smiled. He could see that she was about to answer, but he put his hand to her lips. “Don’t tell me now. I want you to be sure.”

Her face fell in disappointment.

He pulled something out of his jacket, a simple gold band. “This was my grandmother’s,” he said, putting it on her first finger. “Let it remind you of me while we’re apart.”

She reached inside her dress and handed him a piece of cloth. “I just finished this today.”

He unfolded it and saw that she had embroidered a rose on it.

“So you’ll remember me,” she said as he tucked it inside his shirt.

He stood up and lifted her up on the rock so that they were face to face. He ran his hands down her arms and she closed her eyes, her chest rising and falling erratically at his touch. As he moved his hands past her waist to the small of her back, she pressed into him and dug her fingers into his hair. When she kissed him, he felt like something in him had been restored, almost as if she had been torn from him long ago and was now being fire welded to his heart.

Now, onto the final version.

A Mistaken Kiss from Black Heart

2010-01-01T17:01:00.000-08:00

I'm posting this for the "No Kiss" Blogfest.

Tiana, my main female character, collapsed in a previous scene, and is having a nightmare. I've included part of her dream.

Just as her legs buckled, Arathor’s strong arms picked her up and carried her away. She wrapped her hands around his neck and buried her face in his chest. He kissed the top of her head. His deep voice murmured words of reassurance. She looked up to see him staring at her with his dark eyes.

He was such a handsome man. She ran her fingers over the beard on his strong jaw, then lifted her face to his and kissed him. At first he hesitated, but then their mouths moved together, playing and teasing. The hair of his beard tickled her chin. His lips were warm and alive, and soft. Very soft.

She sighed into his mouth. She could stay in his arms for the rest of her life and be a happy woman.

When he stopped, she let out a cry of disappointment.

“I’m glad you’re awake.”

Her eyelids flew open. This wasn’t a dream. Arathor was really here.

And she’d kissed him.

Of all the stupid things…. She covered her face with her hands, shaking her head over her brazen behavior.

And then she realized that he could have stopped her. “You let me kiss you,” she said.

“Who was I to turn down a kiss from a beautiful woman?"

She wasn’t sure if her cheeks burned from embarrassment or pleasure. “I thought it was a dream.”

“So you kissed me in a dream?” One dark eyebrow quirked up, along with one corner of his mouth. Why would he start teasing her now, after all these years? "Dorinda said our dreams sometimes reveal what we want most.”

She always kissed him in her dreams. What did that say about her? When his mouth broadened into a full smile, she wanted to hit him. He was treating this as if it were nothing.

Getting to Know me Through Eldala

2009-12-03T15:52:00.000-08:00

There are many things I included in Eldala that I love and I thought I would share those as a way to get to know me better.

This does have spoilers, so be warned. :)

~~ The seashore ~ It's one of my favorite places to visit and I wish I could go more often. There's something about the smell and the sounds and the view that inspire me.

~~ Seashells ~ I've collected them since my first visit to the shore when I was a girl and my parents and grandparents would drive to Morro Bay, CA for a classic car show. I can remember going into a shell shop and coming home with some beautiful shells I wouldn't have found otherwise. I have collection now that's in my front bathroom. My two favorites are my nautilus shell that my husband and children got me for Christmas last year, and my abalone shell that I found at the Tucson Gem and Mineral Show a few years ago.

~~ Flower Gardens ~ I would especially love to have a secret garden like Jessa's, and of course, it would have a fountain.

~~ Butterflies ~ I was almost jealous of Jessa when Kieran calls the butterflies, just before he proposes.

~~ Cardinals ~ They're among my favorite birds.

~~ Forests ~ Though I prefer pine forests because of their lovely smell, I like any forest.

~~ Dancing ~ Even though I don't dance, I love to watch it.

~~ Music ~ The song that Kieran and Jessara dance to is an actual song I found on iTunes, called "Songs From a Scottish Childhood" by Maggie Sansone.

~~ Roses ~ They're my very favorite flowers, followed closely by orange blossoms.

~~ Hummingbirds ~ Jessa just briefly mentions them, but they're another of my favorite birds.

~~ Romance ~ Obviously that's why I wrote one.

~~ Shoulder rubs ~ Nothing like one.

~~ A good sword fight ~ There are so many great ones from the movies... Ivanhoe, The Count of Monte Cristo, Dragonheart...

~~ Tea ~ Maybe that's why I put so many conversations in that happen over tea.

~~ Tattoos ~ Not a like so much as a fascination and admiration.

~~ Weddings

~~ Fierce loyalty

~~ Heart connections ~ To really connect with someone is one of the greatest things a human can experience. I have that with my husband.

~~ Happy Endings ~ I don't write tragedies.

~~ Redemption and Freedom ~ It seems that all the stories I come up with have to do with someone who's enslaved, either mentally, physically, or emotionally, and someone comes to their rescue.

2009-06-15T11:52:00.000-07:00

Posted June 14, 2010 by Christine Danek of Christine's Journey, re-posted with persmission.

I really liked this book. It was more up my alley. I am always in awe by authors who create worlds that are similar to ours but are different. This is like a medieval world with it's own language and cool magic. Kudos Michelle on making up a language. The names are great too. I've been having trouble in this area with my own WiP so I am inspired by this. It's a great love story and her descriptions are fantastic. The magical element added a nice touch. You know me love story, YA, and any sort of magical element--I get a mushy and smile. The pace is good and the writing fantastic. You should check this out.

Character Pictures

2008-11-10T14:37:00.000-08:00

Have you ever wondered what my characters look like, at least from my Point of View? Here they are.

Jessa (Jessara) - an unidentified catalog model

Kieran - actor Steven Waddington (Last of the Mohicans, Ivanhoe, and The Tudors)
(For two more pictures of Kieran, click here.)

Sienna - actress Miranda Otto (Lord of the Rings)

Gilrain - actor David Wenham (Lord of the Rings)

Tiana - actress Monica Bellucci (The Passion of the Christ, The Matrix Reloaded)

Arathor - actor Adrian Paul (Highlander)

and a possible character in another book, if i decide to continue with this.

the cheeky Jake Gyllenhaal from Prince of Persia

Eldala Prologue - Chapter 6

2008-11-09T15:55:00.000-08:00

All content Copyright 2007, Michelle Gregory. Please do not copy.

Prologue

ARATHOR’S HEART THUNDERED AS HE SWUNG ASTRIDE HIS BLACK stallion and strained his eyes for any movement on the road in front of him. It was a moonless night, but he knew King Rahnak’s spies were watching him; he’d fought off three of them in Felonia. He couldn’t risk engaging anyone in a sword fight again. Speed and cunning were his only protection now.

Before leading his horse out of the ash grove, he unwrapped the bundle he’d fought so fiercely to protect the night before. Aiden was fast asleep, swaddled in a blue woolen blanket, completely unaware of the danger surrounding him.

Arathor grimaced.

“How can I give you up?” he whispered.

He clapped his heels to the horse’s flanks. Telegar’s strong, confident gait thundered beneath him as they sped towards the next town. Suddenly, his mount let out a shrill whinny, and the hair on Arathor’s neck bristled. He looked behind him, taking in the ground they’d just covered.

Five hooded riders, black cloaks flying behind them, were closing in on them.

Fighting his alarm, Arathor shouted the ancient words his father had taught him: “Kel-lema menan-dai kah-gish tehai.”

In a split second, a wall of searing red flames, twice Arathor’s height, sprang up behind him and engulfed his pursuers. Their tortured screams echoed in his ears as he urged the stallion forward.

<><><>

Kale lit a candle on his way to answer the urgent knocking. Before he got to the door, his wife Elisa was beside him. When he opened the door, they both drew in a quick breath. Although the man’s face was hidden, Kale recognized him at once. No one else had Arathor’s commanding stature.

“What…?” Kale asked.

Arathor stamped the mud from his boots before handing Elisa a bundle. He sat at the table and pulled back his hood. The pale light couldn’t hide the concern in his face.

Elisa parted the wool blanket. Her eyes grew larger and she covered her mouth. “Is this…who I think it is?”

“He’s in danger,” Arathor said. “Will you raise him as your own?”
“Why us?” Kale asked.

Arathor looked at him, but his intense dark eyes were more than Kale could bear. “You’ve been my smith for many years now and I know I can trust you.”

Kale had always lived a quiet, sheltered life. Now Arathor was asking him to risk his security and Elisa’s to take in the boy. All the reasons for not doing this flew through his mind in a heartbeat. The only argument he could stammer was, “I’m sure there’s someone else more suited for the task.”

Arathor’s face tightened.

“Then I have no choice?” Kale asked.

Arathor rubbed his brow and his face took on the haggard features of a warrior too long in battle. “No, I’d never force this on you.” He shifted his weight. “But I need an answer now.”

Kale glanced at his wife. Elisa never asked for much, but her eyes were pleading with him now. The haunting sadness in her face extinguished his arguments.

“All right, we’ll do what you ask.”

Arathor glanced at the door, as if expecting someone to burst through it at any moment. “I have to warn you—if you take him in, you’ll be in as much danger as he is.”

Kale tried to stifle his mounting fear. “We’ll move away as soon as we can.”

Arathor smiled grimly and handed Kale a rolled parchment. “You can tell him he was adopted, but nothing more. When he’s twenty-one, give him this letter.” He pulled up his hood and put a hand on the smith’s shoulder. “Kale, I know you can do this.”

Arathor walked towards the door and then stopped. “There’s one more thing.” He pulled a battered scabbard out of his cloak. The flickering candle light danced on the sword’s hilt.

“After he reads the scroll, give him this. It may help him accept the truth.”

Grief lined his face as he put his hand on the child’s head and he kissed his brow. “Grow well, Aiden.” He bowed to the couple and went out into the night.

Elisa looked at her husband and smiled. “I never thought this day would come.”

“A son,” Kale said, half hearing his wife.

How will I be able to do this? he wondered.

Elisa moved closer to Kale and handed him the child. “Aiden.”

Kale put his fingers to her lips and lowered his voice. “We can never speak that word again.”

The boy needed a strong name, one that would give him the courage he needed to face his destiny, yet not reveal the nature of his birth. After a long silence Kale said, “His name will be Kieran.”

Chapter 1

Twenty years later…

KIERAN WOKE UP, HIS HEART RACING AND HIS CLOTHES DRENCHED IN sweat. It wasn’t unusual for him to have strange dreams, but this one had been the most terrifying of all.

He’d been walking with his mother and father near the sea. Suddenly, a sword sprang from the waves and flew into his hand. Elisa’s face froze in horror and Kale stepped in to defend her. Before Kieran could stop himself, he’d killed both of them. Their blood covered the sword and his cries of despair woke him up.

Still shaken, Kieran walked to the kitchen and washed his face. Normally he would have eaten a quick breakfast, but the dream had stolen his appetite. Frustrated, he returned to his room, put on a clean shirt, and headed for town.

With his long stride, it took him only a few minutes to walk from his home near the shore to the smithy near the center of Pent. On his way, he passed several low-roofed cottages, each with a small garden plot and racks of drying whitefish. Turning to the left, he noticed the familiar odor of wet clay coming from Jelcahd’s pottery shop, and the mouth-watering aroma of fresh bread coming from Helgar’s bakery. The sun was just coming up as he jumped over the fence around the cooper’s yard and walked into his father’s smithy.

Kieran had learned his father’s trade quickly. By the time he was seventeen, people said he was the best smith in northern Teleria. While Kale forged the ordinary, Kieran preferred embellishing the ordinary and creating the extraordinary. When he walked through Pent, he could see his handiwork—ornate door handles, hinges with intricate flower motifs, and gates that looked like they could grace the castle at Korisan.

Today he had to settle for making ladles.

Walking past the racks of tools, he pulled off his shirt and was about to put on his leather tunic when he heard a disturbance. A cluster of unmarried women had gathered at the door. They came every day and tried to get his attention. Despite their obvious beauty, none of them caught his eye. There was only one woman for him. He just had to find her again.

Now Kieran turned his back on them and quickly put on his tunic.

When his father joined him, Kieran donned his leather apron and stoked the fire.

“Do you have that order ready for the cooper?” Kale asked.

“It’s over in the corner,” Kieran said, pointing to a pile of iron barrel hoops. “I made two extra for the children.”

Kieran loved having children in the shop. Kale was always worried that one of them might get hurt, but Kieran invited them in anyway. He enjoyed making things for them, and their favorite toys were the iron hoops. When the children raced the hoops in the street, Kieran always stopped to watch. This had been his favorite game as a child and the only game where he could beat his cousin.

As if on cue, his cousin entered the shop and stood to one side.

“I see your adoring throng is here today,” Gilrain said.

“I’m sure you’ll be happy to take them off my hands,” Kieran muttered.

“Maybe later. What are you working on today?”

“Are you offering to help?”

If Gilrain saw that Kieran was annoyed, he ignored it. “Hunting’s been slow this week. I thought you could use a hand.”

Gilrain was the best archer in the area, usually bringing home the largest deer and wild boar. Although he hadn’t taken up sword smithing like his father, he knew how to keep the fire going, and was an excellent striker. It was too bad he was so unreliable.

“I’m working on ladles, for Lord Destra’s cook.”

While Gilrain moved over to the fire, Kieran picked out an iron bar and brought it to the anvil. Using a hammer and chisel, he cut the bar to the proper length and then began the process of heating and hammering the metal, stretching out the handle, and forming a small bowl. When he’d finished shaping and smoothing it, he repeatedly plunged it into the slack tub to harden it.

Kieran looked up to ask Gilrain to get another tool. Gilrain was in the corner, flirting with a blonde who’d made it past the door.
Kale shook his head.

Kieran swore under his breath.

Gilrain’s careless attitude toward finishing his work was one of his least annoying traits. He charged headlong into fights without thinking, was openly affectionate with unmarried women, and gambled at dice and cards whenever he had the chance.

Still irritated, Kieran turned his attention to the next ladle and imagined it was Gilrain.

While he worked, a crowd started to gather inside the shop. It wasn’t unusual for people to meet in the smithy to discuss the latest news, and Kieran had learned to keep one ear on the banter while he worked. This afternoon they were heatedly discussing the way Lord Destra had treated a man who couldn’t pay his taxes.

“I heard he had the man and his whole family sent to the dungeon in Korisan.”

Gilrain abandoned the blonde and moved closer to the discussion.

“That’s the last time we’ll see Becknar.”

Gilrain looked over at Kieran. “Somebody should do something.”

Why was Gilrain looking at him that way? Kieran walked to the forge and waited for the bowl of the ladle to reheat.

His blood boiled every time he heard about the way Lord Destra mistreated the townspeople. It seemed the nobility felt it was their sole purpose in life to make everyone in Teleria miserable. They charged too much for taxes, demanded that the peasants produce superior products—despite the poor soil and scarcity of material—and when foreign marauders or gangs roamed through the towns, they did nothing to stop them, despite having legions of soldiers at their command.

Kieran had never spoken of rebellion himself; his father had taught him to avoid trouble. But if he were a lord or a king, he would use his position to help people. Then he’d remind himself that he was just a blacksmith, and all he wanted in life was to have his own smithy, marry, and have a dozen children.

“You know Rahnak set up all the liege lords in Teleria,” someone said. “If you cross them, you’re crossing him.”

“I think it’s about time someone crossed him.”

When Kieran returned to the anvil, Gilrain nudged his arm. “Are
you paying attention to this?” he asked.

“It’s nothing new.”

Gilrain took the hammer out of Kieran’s hand.

Kieran moved to take it back. “Some of us have work to do.”

Gilrain let go and lowered his voice. “You could do something.”

Kieran continued to pound at the metal. “If you want swords for a revolt, go talk to your father. I already have too much work to do.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

Kieran stopped in mid-swing. “Then what did you mean?”

“They haven’t told you yet?”

Kieran grabbed Gilrain’s arm to take him outside. Gilrain tried to wrench himself away but Kieran persisted. When they were outside, Gilrain broke free of Kieran’s iron grip.

“What are you talking about?” Kieran asked.

Gilrain looked confused and then started to chuckle. “How ironic. All these years and they never told you who you really are.”

Chapter 2

NOTHING COULD CALM THE TEMPEST SWIRLING IN KIERAN’S GUT. After trying and failing to get more information out of Gilrain, he’d returned to the smithy to finish Destra’s ladles. When he finished, all he had to show for his impatience were three ruined ladles. Disgusted with himself for wasting the metal, he threw them into the fire and grumbled all the way home.

When he reached the door, he noted that another of Teleria’s infamous storms was fast approaching. How fitting that the weather mirrored his mood. As much as he hated confrontation, he had to know the truth. He didn’t want to hurt his parents, but he couldn’t go on without having an answer to this riddle.

Kieran was just about to go inside when he saw Gilrain and his parents walking down the path.

How could he have forgotten? Today was his twentieth birthday, and his mother had planned a special celebration as she did every year. And she always invited Loric, Sorina, and Gilrain. Having them here would complicate things. If he were lucky, they would leave early, and he could talk with his father privately.

Family celebrations were usually happy times, and although Kieran didn’t share his mother’s opinion that birthdays were sacred occasions, he enjoyed spending time with his aunt and uncle. Loric always made the conversation livelier and Aunt Sorina always brought him an apple pie. Gilrain was usually on his best behavior. However, as the evening progressed, Kieran’s impatience was turning a pleasant evening into an impending shipwreck.

Just as he was thinking of a way to get them out of the house, he overheard words that grabbed his attention: “He looks more like Arathor every day.”

Kieran exploded from his chair, catching the edge of the table and sending his plate to the floor. His mother jumped and his aunt let out a gasp. Surprised by his own outburst, Kieran stooped to pick up the broken dishes. When he stood, he tried to keep his tone even. “What did you mean just now, Aunt Sorina?”

His aunt shot a worried look at Kieran’s parents. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

His father interrupted her. “No, Sorina. We should have told him sooner.”

“Told me what?”

Pale and tight-lipped, Kale walked across the room to Elisa’s cedar trunk. Kieran remembered watching his father buy the trunk in Felonia. It had cost him a month’s wages, but Kale had been so proud of himself for choosing just the right piece for his wife.

His father opened the trunk and removed the contents. Turning it over, he located a hidden drawer and pulled out a yellowed parchment. He handed it to Kieran.

“You’d better read this,” he said.

Kieran took the parchment and walked to the hearth. As he unrolled it a musty odor made him sneeze. The lettering was elegant, like none he’d ever seen before. At the bottom, there was a blue wax seal, imprinted with an eagle.

“Dear Son…”

Kieran narrowed his eyes as he looked up at his father. “Did you write this?”

Kale leaned against the stone work and stared into the fire. “Just keep reading.”

Kieran looked at the parchment again.

"Now that you are twenty-one, it is time to tell you about the circumstances of your birth. Twenty-two years ago, when your mother Annalisa was with child, my chief steward usurped the throne and threatened your life. In order to protect you and your mother, we left Teleria and went to live on Ilich Island. When you were born, I brought you to Kale and Elisa. By right of birth, you are Aiden, prince of Teleria."

Kieran swallowed hard to fight the nausea churning in him and continued to read.

"You now have a choice, and it will take great courage to choose the right. From this moment on, you will be walking the path between who you are now and who you were born to be. All I am asking you to do is let yourself make the journey. Just remember that courage is not the lack of fear, but instead it is the decision that something else is more important than your fear."

“I am sure you will have many questions for me. When you are ready, you can find me in Koridoc. – Arathor."

Arathor was the name of the previous king. He’d ruled Teleria for only a few years before unexpectedly disappearing, leaving Rahnak to assume the throne. Telerians’ opinions regarding Arathor’s disappearance ranged from cowardice to outright abandonment. While some spoke of his return—always in hushed tones lest they be put in prison—others said they preferred Rahnak and Ciara.

Kieran rolled up the parchment and fixed his eyes on the man he’d called father for twenty years. “What’s going on?”

“You’d probably better sit down to hear this.”

Kieran crossed his arms and stayed on his feet.

His father ran his hand through his graying black hair. “We would have told you sooner, but Arathor said to wait until you were twenty-one.”

“Do you mean King Arathor?”

Kale nodded. Kieran felt as if a crashing wave had hit him full force. This couldn’t be happening.

He’d known since he was five that his parents had adopted him and it never bothered him. Once in a while, he wondered about his birth parents, but most of the time he was content to be the son of Kale the blacksmith.

When Kieran had regained his composure, he looked at his mother. “So you didn’t tell me because Arathor told you to wait?”

Elisa’s face was full of pain. “He must have had his reasons.”

“But you told them?” Kieran said, gesturing towards his aunt and uncle.

His father answered. “The day after we took you in, we started to pack up and when Loric asked why, I had to tell him.”

“And how did Gilrain find out?”

The question seemed to catch his parents by surprise. They looked at Aunt Sorina. Her face was red and Kieran knew from experience she was just as likely to defend herself as she was to run out of the room. Gilrain spoke before she could do either.

“She was angry about moving from Morigon, and when I asked her why, she told me everything.”

Kieran looked at all the faces in the room, faces of the people he trusted. Impossible as this story was, it seemed even more impossible that his family had intentionally lied to him.

Unless they’d all been fooled, and the man who abandoned him wasn’t really King Arathor. Or maybe someone had dropped him into one of his nightmares and he would wake up at any minute.

Whatever the answer was, he didn’t want to be anywhere near his family right now. He turned to walk out the door but his father stopped him.

“There was one more thing Arathor wanted you to have.” Kale left the room and when he returned, he laid a battered wooden scabbard on the table. “He hoped this would help you believe our story.”

Kieran picked up the scabbard and withdrew the sword.

The highly polished steel blade was half his height and bore intricate engravings. The gold hilt fit his hand perfectly. He held it up and sliced through the air, feeling its grace and balance. It felt like the sword a prince would use.

An uncomfortable feeling twisted in his gut. This was the sword from his dream. In revulsion, he threw it to the ground and went out to face the storm.

Chapter 3

KALE WATCHED HIS SON RUSH OUT OF THE HOUSE. KIERAN USUALLY kept himself under control, but the look on his face when he’d left said he was ready to explode. Not that Kale could blame him. He probably would have reacted the same way if he’d been the one to learn he was a prince.

Still, Kale wondered again if he and Elisa should have told Kieran the truth sooner. If they had, maybe Kieran wouldn’t have been so angry right now.

Only once before in his twenty years as Kieran’s father had he seen his son this upset.

When Kieran was ten, he’d raced into the smithy, gasping for breath and yelling something about slave traders and rescuing a girl. On the one hand, Kale wanted to help, but on the other hand, he knew he couldn’t let Kieran pursue the girl; it could bring dangerous attention to the family.

As gently as he could, he told Kieran there was nothing they could do.

A mixture of anger and disappointment filled Kieran’s eyes. He beat his fists on Kale’s chest and pleaded with him to help. When Kale refused, Kieran ran off, presumably back to the forest. Kale hoped his son would see how foolish it was to go after the girl. He waited up all night for Kieran, and when he finally returned the next morning, Kale was more relieved than angry.

Before Kale could ask him where he’d been, Kieran speared Kale with a hurt look. His chin trembled when he said, “My real father would have gone after her.”

The words hit Kale like a sledge hammer.

After that day, they’d never spoken of it.

Kale picked up the sword. In all the years he’d kept it for Kieran, he’d never looked at it. Now he ran his fingers across the intricate leaf and vine pattern. Although swordsmithing was his brother’s specialty, Kale appreciated the fine craftsmanship that had gone into the weapon.

He suddenly drew in a quick breath.

This had to be Restamar, the sword from the stories his father had told him. Carefully, Kale returned the sword to its scabbard and put it in Kieran’s room. In the morning, Kieran might be more willing to listen to their story.

Elisa walked in behind him. “Did we do the wrong thing, holding back the truth from him?”

Kale sat on Kieran’s bed and Elisa sat next to him. He pushed a wisp of her hair behind her ear and stroked her cheek. Her clear green eyes sparkled and her honey-brown hair, now streaked with strands of silver, fell over her shoulders. She was as beautiful as the day he had proposed to her.

“It probably wasn’t the best way to tell him,” he said.

“Sorina feels awful.”

Kale exhaled slowly. Sorina was usually careful about what she said around Kieran. They all were. “No, it’s my fault. My instincts said to tell him when he was younger, but I wanted to honor Arathor.”

He ran his calloused fingers through his hair. “I shouldn’t have held him back.”

Elisa took his hand and traced the back of it with her delicate fingers. She smiled at him. “You were only trying to protect him.”

Kale shook his head. “By teaching him to avoid trouble, I haven’t prepared him at all.”

“Kale, we did the best we could. I know Arathor didn’t make a mistake in choosing you to be his father.” She leaned over and gave him a tender kiss. “And what’s done is done. Now he’s going to need your help to get through this.”

Chapter 4

KIERAN STOOD ON THE SHORE AND PUT HIS HANDS ON HIS KNEES, panting for breath, ignoring the rain soaking into his clothes. He looked out over the churning waves. The light from the storm had turned them an unnatural shade of green. He’d seen storms like this before but had never felt like one was inside him.

This was his favorite place to come when the cares of life weighed him down. He could depend on the ocean to calm him and help him think. But now he couldn’t even depend on that. His world had been turned upside down. He didn’t know who he was, he wasn’t sure he could trust his parents, and if they were telling the truth, he didn’t want to believe their story. More agitated than ever, he anchored his feet and let the storm buffet him from all sides.

Whenever there was a problem no one else could solve, he solved it. When things were difficult he always found a way around them. How was he going to get himself out of this?

What if the man who had said he was Arathor had tried to deceive them for some reason? How could he test his parents’ story? He ran his hand across the back of his neck, trying to ease the tension creeping across his shoulders and into his head. What could he do? If he’d been Gilrain, he would have charged ahead and embraced the news. But he wasn’t Gilrain. He was Kieran—cautious to the end.

This dilemma would have to wait. The storm was getting stronger. His parents’ home was in danger and he knew he should go home to help. When he arrived, his uncle and father were boarding up the windows, and his mother and aunt were sand-bagging the foundation. Gilrain was in the barn, taking care of the livestock.

Kieran went to help Gilrain and saw that all the chickens had escaped. He called to his cousin and the two of them ran through the yard to catch the unruly fowl. Soon his uncle and father came to help.

Despite Kieran’s frustration with the recent news, he had to laugh. The bedraggled birds weren’t cooperating, darting here and there, squawking and fluttering about. When he thought he had one hen cornered, it flew into his face, making him land on his backside. Gilrain saw him and let out a loud guffaw. Kieran responded with his own chuckle when Gilrain lunged after one and slipped in the mud, falling flat on his face. His father and uncle weren’t doing much better. Although they each had two chickens, the birds wriggled free when they tried to put them in the barn.

Just as Gilrain caught the last one, Kieran’s mother and aunt showed up.

“You’d think four grown men could catch a handful of chickens,” his aunt said.

“I think they just enjoy playing in the mud.”

When the men walked towards the house, Kieran’s mother put up her hands. “If you think you’re going to come into my house, you’re wrong.”

Kieran looked down at his clothes. He was covered in mud, head to toe. His fellow chicken wranglers didn’t look much better.

“I think they need to spend the night in the barn,” his aunt said.
His father gave his mother a half pleading look. “Turned out of my own home,” he said.

With a flip of her skirt, Elisa turned toward the house. “We’ll see you in the morning, when you’ve dried out,” she said over her shoulder.

Inside the barn, Kieran’s father lit a lantern and hung it on a hook. Kieran made sure the chickens were settled and his uncle tried to calm the old draft horse. The two pigs slept, and the goat was happily chewing its cud.

A cold gust of air blew into the barn and made Kieran shiver. He rubbed his arms and blew warm air on his fingers. Gilrain closed the barn door.

“So what do we do now?” Gilrain asked.

“Wait until we’ve dried out,” Loric said.

“I can’t believe Aunt Elisa wouldn’t let us come in,” Gilrain said.

“Well, it is her house,” Kale said.

“I wouldn’t let my wife treat me like that,” Gilrain said.

Kieran hung his shirt over a rafter to dry and imagined Gilrain lording it over his wife—that is, if he could choose one from among the ever-widening circle of women who seemed to throw themselves at him.

The idea made him chuckle, until Gilrain interrupted his thoughts. “What will you do now that you know you’re a prince?”

Kieran jerked his head around to look at Gilrain. If this was going to turn into another challenge, Kieran didn’t want to argue with Gilrain here.

“You’re not going to do anything, are you?”

Kieran noted the obvious disdain in Gilrain’s voice and moved towards the door. And then stopped. Which would be worse—leaving the barn to face the storm outside or staying to face the storm in here? He knew his cousin. Gilrain could be like a hunting dog on the trail of its quarry. If Kieran didn’t settle this now, Gilrain would hound him until he did.

He turned around, all the while trying to sound as if none of this mattered. “I don’t know if any of this is true, so just let it go.”

“What do you mean, you don’t know if it’s true?” his father asked.

“How can you not believe it?” Gilrain asked. “You saw the letter and the sword. How do you explain those?”

“Maybe the man was just a beggar and the sword was stolen.” He looked at his father. “How did you know it was Arathor?”

“Arathor is built just like you, and despite the way he was dressed, there was no mistaking him.”

“So the sword training was all because of this?” Kieran asked.
His father shrugged. “I thought it would be good for you to know how to fight.”

Kieran shook his head and laughed. “Except for swords, you never let me fight. It was always, ‘Kieran, don’t draw attention to yourself’ or ‘Kieran, let someone else fight.’”

“I was doing what I thought was right. If you had stood out, Rahnak might have found you and then…” His voice trailed off.

Kieran pulled his damp shirt from the rafter and lifted it over his head, feeling the familiar hostility churning inside him. He knew that if the conversation continued, he’d say something he’d regret. As much as he resented Kale’s efforts to keep him safe, he didn’t want to hurt him or embarrass him, especially not in front of Gilrain and Loric.

He opened the door, then turned to Kale. “Father, I’m—”
“Sorry” is what he should have said, but he wasn’t exactly sorry. He wasn’t quite sure how he felt. “Let’s talk about this another time.”

A biting wind hit him in the face as he charged into the storm.

Chapter 5

“WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO WITH THIS?” KIERAN MUTTERED.
The sword lay on a chair next to Kieran’s bed, right where he’d left it after sneaking into his bed last night. How could such a simple thing be so repulsive? And why had he dreamed of this sword?

He started to reach for it and then drew back.

“It’s a fine weapon.”

Kieran looked up to see his father. “I suppose it is.”

“Aren’t you going to look at it?”

“Why should I?”

“Because it belongs to you.”

“It belongs to Arathor,” Kieran said, stamping his foot into his boot.

“He gave it to you.”

Kieran pulled on a shirt, rolled up his sleeves, and tied back his hair with a leather strip. “I need to start repairs on the house.”

His father put a hand on his shoulder. “Why are you having such a hard time believing this?”

Because if I believe it, I have to give up the life I have now.

“What did the letter say?” Kale asked.

“Read it for yourself,” Kieran said as he brushed past him to go to the kitchen.

When he got there, his mother was ladling cornmeal into an earthen bowl for him. He added honey and cream, and moved to the table. This was his favorite breakfast and his favorite time of day. Early morning was the only time in his otherwise noisy life when he could enjoy a small measure of peace. He just hoped his parents wouldn’t interrupt it with pointless questions.

Downing a mug of pear cider, he was just rising to leave when his mother drew up a chair beside him and offered him a warm roll. How could he resist that? He took it and drizzled more honey over the top of it. His mother pulled her purple woolen shawl around her shoulders and carefully broke her own roll in half before eating it like a lady in the king’s court. How many times had he looked at her and not noticed how elegant she was?

“What have you decided?” she asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Did you look at the sword?”

His father walked into the room and kissed his mother on the cheek. “He said he didn’t have time for it.”

Kieran shot his father a warning glance.

“How will you know the truth if you don’t look at it?” Elisa asked.

“Why would looking at the sword make any difference?”

“Because,” his father said, “it’s a special sword.”

Kieran took a bite from the roll. “What do you mean?”

“I’ll show you,” Kale said, gesturing towards Kieran’s room.

While Kieran leaned against the doorframe, Kale and Elisa sat on the bed.

“The sword you don’t have time to look at is called Restamar. The stories say that the great warrior Alardin used it to defeat an evil queen.”

“Do you mean the same Alardin who agreed to help Kieran the Valiant?”

Kale nodded.

Of all the stories Kale had told Kieran over the years, this was Kieran’s favorite.

An ancient people lived under the curse of a terrible queen. A man named Kieran decided something should be done, so he left his family to search for a great warrior who would help them. Kieran traveled hundreds of miles, across oceans and kingdoms, until he came to the kingdom of Benalia. It was in this kingdom he found a man named Alardin. Alardin was the third son of a king, and instead of waiting for an inheritance, he became a warrior. Now he was the leader of the Benalian army. When he heard Kieran’s story, Alardin and half the army agreed to go with Kieran to fight against the queen and her forces.

When they arrived in Kieran’s homeland, Alardin and Kieran fought side by side. Just before Alardin defeated the queen, her general dealt Kieran a death blow. During his funeral, the newly appointed King Alardin decreed that his comrade would always be known as Kieran the Valiant.

“I thought those were just stories,” Kieran said.

His father rubbed his stubbled chin. “So did I.”

“How do you know that this is Alardin’s sword?”

Kale took the weapon and gave it to Kieran. “Look at the design on the blade.”

Kieran ran his fingers over the cold metal. The pattern he’d seen last night was gold inlay. It was the most intricate work Kieran had ever seen.

“If I’m right, you should be able to see Alardin’s name on the other side.”

Kieran turned the blade over. The inscription was wearing away, as if someone had run their fingers across it many times. He could just make out the names Alardin, Dalamar, Jendric, Egron, Aeron, Duncan, and Arathor.

A chill went up Kieran’s back when he read the rest of the inscription.

“When the line of kings is broken, and an evil ruler takes the throne, a child will arise to end her reign; a child will arise to break her curse.”

“What does it say?” his mother asked.

Kieran was too dumbfounded to speak and handed it to her.

“I don’t see anything,” she said, and then gave it to Kale.

His face fell. “There’s nothing here,” he said. “I was sure this was Restamar.”

Kieran took it back. “There it is. Can’t you see it?”

His father’s face went pale. “Why can you see it when we can’t?”

“That doesn’t matter now,” his mother said. “What does it say?”

Kieran repeated the words. They were so unbelievable he almost thought someone else was saying them.

“I don’t understand,” his father said. “Rahnak must be the evil ruler, but what does it mean about ending her reign and breaking her curse?”

“Why would it matter?” Kieran burst out. “None of this is true.”
His parents looked up at him in apparent shock. Before they could say another word, he put the sword in its scabbard and left.

<><><>

When Kieran reached the shore, he wished his mind were as clear as his surroundings. The rising sun had burned off the morning fog and now the sky was as blue as Kieran had ever seen it. The waves thundered against the rocks, and in the distance, flocks of gulls pestered the fishermen for scraps. Piles of rotting seaweed, swarming with black gnats, lay on the beach where the storm had thrown them. Shells of every color adorned the gray sand like jewels in a king’s raiment.

Kieran knelt down and scooped up a handful of tiny moon shells. As he stirred them around with his finger, he knew that if someone were to see a grown man kneeling in the sand, playing with sea shells, they would probably think it strange. He didn’t care; shells had always fascinated him.

He dropped the white shells and moved down the shore to see what other treasures the storm had brought. A purple glint caught his eye. He picked up the shell and rubbed the grit from it. He’d seen a shell like this before. When they’d lived in Ithil, his father took him to the shore when he was nine and he found two pieces of a purple and pink shell. His father said they were from an abalone.

They were a perfectly matched set of jewels from the sea—until the day he gave one away to the girl.

The first time Kieran had seen the girl, he was ten. He and Gilrain were setting rabbit snares in the forest and stopped by a stream to get a drink. As Kieran leaned down to scoop up some water, he sensed someone watching him. He cautiously stood and looked around. At first, he saw no one, but after scanning the trees, he noticed a girl, maybe eight years old. She sat in the branches of a gnarled oak tree.

Surrounded by black boulders, the tree was taller than fifteen men. Kieran and Gilrain had named it “The Old Man” because it looked like the oldest tree in the forest. A single trunk split into two parts; from these two smaller trunks, more branches than Kieran could number reached to the sky, like gnarled fingers trying to grab the clouds. The rough gray bark was perfect for helping them climb, and the two cousins clambered up the tree almost every day.

Kieran scrambled up in a flash and sat next to the trespasser. “My name is Kieran and that’s Gilrain,” he said, pointing to his cousin. “And this is our tree.”

She looked at him, unblinking. Kieran thought she might put up her fists at any moment.

“I come here all the time,” she said bluntly.

Kieran usually ignored girls, but this one had his attention. Her cinnamon-colored hair grew to her waist and her eyes were black. He’d never seen anyone with black eyes. They were mesmerizing—even to a ten-year-old boy. It took him a moment to give her an answer. “We’re older. It’s our tree.”

She moved closer to him and the pitch of her voice went up. “My family has lived here much longer than you have, so it is my tree.”

Kieran had never met a girl like this one. He was enjoying himself.
“The three of us could share,” he suggested.

Now she was in his face. “I do not share anything.”

“Maybe someone needs to teach you how.”

Gilrain tried to stifle a laugh. “How long are you two going to keep this up?”

The girl started to giggle and Kieran couldn’t help but laugh with her. Before they knew it, they were all on the ground, rolling with laughter. Tears streamed down their faces and Kieran’s sides ached. When they finally stopped, the girl looked at Kieran again.

“I still say it is my tree, but I will let you climb it.”

“Do you always get your way?” Kieran asked.

She was about to answer, but turned at the sound of someone calling her.

“I have to go,” she said, lowering her voice. “I am really not supposed to be talking to you.” But there was something in her eyes that said, “Let’s be friends.”

She’d almost disappeared into the forest when he felt the pieces of shell in his pocket. He called out to her to stop. When he reached her, he gave her one of the pieces. She took it and smiled.

“What’s your name?” he asked, a little breathless.

Her eyes sparkled with mischief and she leaned closer, cupping his ear with her hand. “Jessara,” she whispered.

Then she was gone.

Kieran put the shells in his pocket and pushed away the memory. It was time to do what he’d come here to do.

He sat on a boulder and unsheathed the sword. When he looked more closely at the inscription, he saw another name, more deeply etched than the others: Aiden. He lost his grip on the sword and dropped to his hands and knees, doubling over as a sea of nausea swirled around him.

Chapter 6

HEAVY DROPS PELTED KIERAN’S FACE AS HE TRUDGED THROUGH THE muddy lanes of Pent. When he entered the smithy, he stamped the mud from his boots and moved next to the forge. Putting his stiff fingers near the coals, he looked around his father’s shop.

This was the only life he’d known. His father had put him to work from the time he was seven—chopping wood, making coal, stoking the fire, pumping the bellows, and cleaning out the forge. It was hard work, but Kieran relished every minute of it and longed for the day when he could be an apprentice. Even at seven, all he’d wanted was to be a smith, like his father.
Like my father.

For the last two months, he’d wrestled with the possibility that he had two fathers.

Kale was a good man, and although he and Kieran had their differences, Kieran was grateful for all his father had taught him. What he appreciated most was that his father had always been honest with him—until now.

Kieran blew out a frustrated breath. Was holding back part of the truth a lie, or just a way to protect him? Did it really matter? Either way, it left Kieran feeling used and betrayed. All he wanted to do was find the man claiming to be Arathor and expose him as a fraud.

What was he thinking? He couldn’t leave now. There was too much to do. Farmers needed their tools repaired before the harvest, Lord Destra needed a new gate, and Kieran and his father were making special items to sell at the summer festival in Felonia. No, finding Arathor would have to wait.

He pushed his tangled thoughts away and threw himself into his day’s work, a set of tools for his uncle. It was easy to lose himself while he focused on the steady rhythm of the hammer on the metal. If only it could take away the memory of last night’s dream.

Despite the horror of watching himself kill his family, he was learning to put the dreams aside and forget them. But he couldn’t ignore last night’s dream; it was the most terrifying he’d had yet. In last night’s dream, he killed Jessara. It was more terrifying than when he had actually lost her.

After his first encounter with Jessara, they’d met in the forest every day and spent their time building forts out of dead branches, making leaf boats to race down the stream, and climbing the tree. It continued that way for several months, and although he couldn’t explain it, the longer he knew her, the more he felt connected to her. No matter how hard his ten-year-old self tried to deny it, he thought he might love her. Only as a friend, of course, but it was something he’d never felt for anyone.

She was the first thing on his mind when he woke up and the last thing he thought about before falling asleep. And between waking and sleeping, he could hardly concentrate on his chores for thinking of her. He hoped they would remain friends forever.

All it took was one horrible event to shatter his hopes.

It started like any other day. Kieran reached the tree ahead of Jessara and while he waited, he sat on a lower branch and carved their names into the bark. After a few minutes, he heard her coming.

Just before she reached him, six of the dirtiest, most roughly-garbed men Kieran had ever seen came up behind her and tried to grab her. Kieran yelled for Jessara to climb up the tree, but she couldn’t reach it. Kieran jumped from the branch with the knife still in his hands. Jabbing at one of the men, he told Jessara to run home. The man hit Kieran across the face with a knotted fist and knocked him down. Kieran recovered and drove his knife into the man’s foot. The man dropped to the ground, screaming in agony, while another grabbed Kieran from behind and held him fast with arms like iron bands. Jessara screamed for help as two others chased after her.

A blond-headed boy ran towards her, yelling for the men to stop.

“Stefan,” she yelled. Before she could reach him, the two men caught her and dragged her by her hair back to the tree. Stefan ran after them, but a third man wrestled him down and drove a boot heel into his back.

When the slave traders reached their horses, they bound Jessara’s hands and feet, stuffed a rag in her mouth, and tied her to a saddle. Before joining their comrades, the men holding Kieran and Stefan let them go, warning them not to follow. Stefan ran one way and Kieran ran home.

And when he asked Kale for help, his father had done nothing. That was the night he started dreaming about her.

For Jessara to be in this dream, and to see himself killing her with the sword was unbearable. More than anything else that had happened, it made him want to get rid of the cursed thing.

Kieran threw himself into the day’s work, fighting against the guilt he felt not only for losing her, but for not being able to stop himself from killing her in the dream. He knew it didn’t make sense to blame himself for either one, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was somehow responsible for all of it.

<><><>

By late evening, a chill wind replaced the rain. Leaving his father’s shop, Kieran lowered his head and walked through Pent towards home. He was just coming to the western edge of town when he heard a cry for help. One of Destra’s soldiers was attacking a young woman.

Not this.

Kieran looked around for help. Seeing he had no choice, he aproached the attacker from behind and threw him to the ground. Recovering from the shock, the soldier got up and charged at Kieran. Kieran met his attack and hit him in the ribs. A cracking noise echoed between the buildings.

In a drunken rage, the man hit Kieran in the jaw and briefly stunned him. Kieran shook his head and drove his fist into the man’s stomach. The blow sent the soldier flying into the stone wall. For a moment, the man’s face took on the appearance of one of Jessara’s abductors and Kieran found himself beating the soldier repeatedly. He stopped when the man fell limp to the ground.

Kieran spit the blood from his mouth and extended his hand to the woman.
“Thank you,” she said grimly.

“Are you all right?”

She looked up at Kieran. “I will be. But I think he’s dead.”

To Kieran’s surprise, the man lay in a pool of blood. What had he done? How could he have lost control so easily?

Suddenly, Kieran heard a crowd approaching.

“You’d better get out of here,” he said to the woman.

He watched her go and then ducked into the trees, running towards home. He was shaking when he went through the door. His mother looked up. Kieran studied her face. She looked so peaceful and content. How could he tell her he’d just killed a man?

Before he said anything, alarm was in her eyes. “What happened?”

Kieran paced the room, briefly explaining what he’d done. His mother pursed her lips. “You did the right thing.”

He had done the right thing. Why did he feel so guilty?

Just then his father walked in the door. When his mother told him what had happened, his face tightened and he looked at Kieran. “It seems circumstances have forced your hand.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Destra will put a price on your head and then he’ll have you sent to Korisan.”

“But the man was attacking an innocent woman.”

“Destra won’t care.”

“Where will I go?”

“Maybe you should go to Koridoc, to find Arathor.”

Suddenly, Kieran’s painstakingly ordered life was slipping from his grasp. How could he get out of this? “There’s too much work. You can’t do it alone.”

Kale gave him a grim smile. “I appreciate the concern, but I’m sure Loric can help.” He put his hand on Kieran’s shoulder. “I’ve protected you for as long as I can. I can’t protect you anymore.”

My Telerian Castle

2008-08-24T21:58:00.000-07:00

in the process of writing Blackheart, i realized i needed to move my characters back into the castle. my main reason for having them live somewhere else on the castle grounds was purely practical (for me anyway) - i'd lost the ground plans i had of the castle i originally used in Eldala. not the best reason storywise. the farther along i went in the 2nd draft, the more i realized i had to put them in the place that made the most sense - back in the castle.

thus began my frantic search for the ground plans - again. unfortunately, they'd disappeared. i remembered that i'd taken the plans from a castle book i used for homeschool. i found the book and saw that i'd used an actual castle for my castle. so i looked it up on the internet and this is what i found:

my castle is Conwy Castle, one of the most famous Welsh castles still in existence. oddly enough, i based my fantasy country of Teleria off of Wales.

the ground plans:

and some exterior shots

and a view from the top.

Conwy Castle was built between 1283 and 1287 as part of a chain of castles that Edward I built to subjugate the Welsh.

About Me

2008-08-18T11:41:00.000-07:00

I am a mom of three, married to a wonderful man, and trying to fit writing into a life filled with taekwondo, doctor appointments, church, and homeschooling my kids. Before 2005, I had no idea that I wanted to write, or that I even had a story in me. Since writing my first novel, I've discovered I have many stories inside me, all clamoring for my attention.

For more, you can read these posts:

My Writing Journey in Brief

Michelle Interviews Herself

Christine Danek Interviews Me

Random Things About Me

2008-08-17T11:54:00.000-07:00

2008-08-16T12:00:00.000-07:00

Posted August 13, 2009 by Tracy Keck of Seed Thoughts, re-posted with permission.

I am so excited to be doing this review! Written by a friend thorough my writing group Christian Writers of the West, Michelle Gregory, Eldala is categorized as a young adult, fantasy novel. And it is good! Seriously, I couldn’t put it down! I was completely drawn into the characters and swept away by the story. It is completely captivating, romantic, thrilling and magical. The story moves quickly and contains intrigue, evil, destiny, friendship and love. Michelle skillfully weaves the beauty of goodness and love with the despair of evil into a tapestry of hope and renewal.

Concept Art for Blackheart

2008-08-02T16:11:00.000-07:00

Gurithents

2008-08-01T16:12:00.000-07:00

All art by Brandon Gregory

2008-07-28T06:55:00.000-07:00

If you like fantasy, I think you'll enjoy this. When I read it, I laughed so hard I was crying.

Every since "The Lord of the Rings", epic fantasy novels have been high on the bestseller list. Every thought of writing one?

WELL HERE'S HOW.

1. Create a main character. Most of the people who read your book will be unconfident males. So make your main character a Loser. Aimless, shy, cowardly, guilty, ill, lazy, rural - any of these will do.

2. Create a Quest. Out of the blue, the Loser must be suddenly told that the fate of the whole world – or some other world - rests in his incompetent hands. To save the world he must perform some task, confront some nameless foe, learn some mysterious skill etc.

For the rest, go here.... How to Write a Best Selling Fantasy Novel.

Reviews for Eldala

2008-07-27T10:21:00.000-07:00

Reviews on Amazon

Other Reviews

Other Reviews

2008-07-26T10:23:00.000-07:00

Posted July 21, 2009 by Nikole Hahn of Hahn Hunting Lodge, re-posted with permisson.

I had good intentions on Sunday to work on my book, but Michelle Gregory's book kept distracting me. The artwork is fantastic for the cover and the title attracted me. What was Eldala? Intrigued, I lay on the couch while Tony watched a baseball game. I did promise he could have full control of the remote on Sunday. Again, good intentions don't always mean I'm going to focus on what needs to be done.

Eldala begins with King Arathor carrying his son to his Smithy. Kieran a.k.a. Aiden is the heir to the throne. He is also a very important piece to unraveling the curse of an evil queen. All ready the story has my attention. An evil queen, a son spirited away for his own safety and true love. It is the right ingredient for the perfect story. The question is will he find his Eldala? Will he choose his destiny or choose to hide as the son of a Smithy? Will he think of his people instead of his own wants and needs? Don't look at me! I'm not going to tell. You'll have to click on the link and buy the book. If you go to Amazon, there are sample chapters you can read.

The book is self-published by Wild Woman Press and written by a reluctant author. If you don't believe me, read the foreward. I met the author on Saturday, July 18 at my Writer's Tea. She is a wonderful person!
________________________________________________________
Posted August 13, 2009 by Tracy Keck of Seed Thoughts, re-posted with permission.

I am so excited to be doing this review! Written by a friend thorough my writing group Christian Writers of the West, Michelle Gregory, Eldala is categorized as a young adult, fantasy novel. And it is good! Seriously, I couldn’t put it down! I was completely drawn into the characters and swept away by the story. It is completely captivating, romantic, thrilling and magical. The story moves quickly and contains intrigue, evil, destiny, friendship and love. Michelle skillfully weaves the beauty of goodness and love with the despair of evil into a tapestry of hope and renewal.
______________________________________________________
Posted June 14, 2010 by Christine Danek of Christine's Journey, re-posted with persmission.

I really liked this book. It was more up my alley. I am always in awe by authors who create worlds that are similar to ours but are different. This is like a medieval world with it's own language and cool magic. Kudos Michelle on making up a language. The names are great too. I've been having trouble in this area with my own WiP so I am inspired by this. It's a great love story and her descriptions are fantastic. The magical element added a nice touch. You know me love story, YA, and any sort of magical element--I get a mushy and smile. The pace is good and the writing fantastic. You should check this out.
__________________________________________________________
Review by Lisa J. Yarde of The Brooklyn Scribbler, re-posted with permission.

In Eldala, Kieran, the orphaned heir to the throne of Teleria discovers the truth of his origins in a letter from his father King Arathor. In it, Arathor writes, "All I am asking you to do is let yourself make the journey." Sage advice, which also applied to me in reading the book. I tend to read within my genre and rarely have I read fantasy, but I'm so glad Michelle Gregory introduced me to her work.

When Kieran discovers the truth behind his identity, he goes on a quest to recapture his father's kingdom, and find the childhood friend he lost. Little does he know that she is key to unlocking his destiny. I loved the emotional journey that Kieran undertakes, in which he learns to be a fighter and a leader of many people and I hope to read more about him in the future.
__________________________________________________________
Review by Kristie Cook, author of The Soul-Saver Series, November 18, 2010, re-posted with permission.

A sweeping story of family, friendship, love and war, Eldala takes you to another time and place that grabs your imagination and pulls you in. Kieran and Jessa, the two main characters, are strong, courageous and heroic, yet real and not too perfect. Their hearts are always in the right place and you can't help but cheer for them. The rest of the cast also shine. The point-of-view switches, mostly between Kieran and Jessa, but also with other characters every now and then. This could be confusing, but Michelle does it in such a way that you're glad to learn that part of the story and learn more about that particular character. Michelle has created a beautiful, detailed world that you'll enjoy getting lost in.

Random Trivia

2008-03-01T12:08:00.000-08:00

WARNING!! There are spoilers mingled in with the trivia.

-- My very first draft of Eldala started with "It was a dark and stormy night."

-- Eldala started as a NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) novel. I was supposed to write 50,000 words in 30 days. By day 17, I had 53,000 words.

-- My boys and I ended up in the local newspaper. A Phoenix reporter was doing an article on NaNoWriMo and found out what I was doing. She asked if she could send a reporter to our house.

-- Teleria is based on the country of Wales.

-- When I found the castle I had used for my story, I discovered that it's Conwy Castle and it's in Wales. (Read more here.) It's now the picture in the header.

-- I first read the word Teleria in The Castle of Llyr by Lloyd Alexander (part of the Prydain Chronicles). It was the name of a queen. When I looked it up, I found out that it's Italian for kitchen linen.

-- Brandon drew the map. Both of my boys came up with names. I do remember that Joshua came up with Korison. He also came up with the name Arathor.

-- The name Korison is based on the Star Wars planet of Coruscant.

-- I went through my world atlas to find names for places, people, and Baraca clans. Indonesia is a gold mine for fantasy names.

-- I never thought I'd have to make up a language.

-- The first time Arathor speaks the ancient language, I just said some nonsense words out loud. I added the exact meaning later. “Kel-lema menan-dai kah-gish tehai” roughly translated is "Wall of fire, surround my enemies." Kieran uses the same phrase at the end with Ciara.

-- "Jedzah mar kavah" means "heal the wound."

-- I made up the word Eldala and Malazia. I've since discovered that Eldala is not original. There's a book out there called "Storm Over Eldala."

-- Jessa's name was originally Mikayla and her character was originally based on Miranda Otto. Later I changed her to Madeline Stowe. It took several tries to get the woman I wanted. When I saw her in a J. C. Penney ad, I said, "There's Jessa!"

-- I once dreamed that I kissed Kieran. The beard felt weird. When I told my husband about it, he just laughed. Good thing he's not the jealous type.

-- I asked a friend what it was like to kiss a guy with a beard. Joe has never had one.

-- If I ever meet Steven Waddington (Kieran), I am totally going to freak.

-- Kieran was originally a potter. Then I changed him to a carpenter. I'm glad I finally changed him to a blacksmith - you know... big, muscular...hot.

-- I actually watched a DVD about a group of smiths making an iron rose.

-- Two years ago, we were at a Renaissance fair and I found an iron rose bud. I keep it on my fireplace mantle.

-- My mother painted the cover. Her signature is in the sword. My brother was a model for the hands.

-- I worked on the novel from 2005 to 2007. I first published it in 2007.

-- Brandon made up the gurithents and the harakan.

-- My husband described the sword fights. Some are based on fights from Ivanhoe (with Steven Waddington as Ivanhoe), Ever After, and Dragonheart.

-- Joe also wrote the blessing Arathor speaks over Kieran when he steps down and makes Kieran the king.

-- The battle with the Zagorans was inspired by a battle in the last book in the Prydain Chronicles, The High King.

-- For inspiration for medieval times, I watched A Knight's Tale, Lord of the Rings, Ivanhoe, and Ever After.

-- The scene where Jessa helps Kieran get ready for battle is based on a scene in Last Samurai. I love that scene.

-- I know more about medieval life than I ever cared to know.

-- I hadn't realized I would have to plan populations until the 3rd draft. That was also when I expanded the map.

-- Kieran and Jessa's tattoo is an actual tattoo I found online, minus the crown. You can see it here: Tree of Life.

-- Besides Kieran and Jessa, my favorite characters are Sahbel and Dorinda. I kind of like Gilrain, too. Stefan... I just wish he'd grow up.

-- I still cringe when I think of people reading the romance scenes.

-- While I wrote, I sometimes listened to music -- the soundtracks from Last Samurai, Lord of the Rings, Open Range, and Last of the Mohicans were my favorites.

-- To get myself in the mood to write the scene where Jessa thinks Kieran is dead, I listened to the songs from the dying scenes in Beauty and the Beast and Eragon. I was literally in tears while I wrote it.

-- I apologized to my characters on a regular basis, especially when I had to write the scene I just mentioned.

-- My kids want me to turn Eldala into a movie. I don't think so, but you never know what God is going to do.

-- The dedication at the beginning... "To my one true Eldala..." isn't just for my husband. It's mostly for God. Without him believing in me, I couldn't have written anything.

The Absolute First Draft of Eldala, chapter 1

2007-10-21T06:55:00.000-07:00

Three things before you read this:

1 - This is the very first, and I mean very first draft of Eldala. Please forgive the typos, misspellings, punctuation, blah, blah, blah. Back then, I was calling it Kiran (and yes, I was spelling his name differently).

2 - I was so afraid of the first words of my first novel that "a dark and stormy night" just made it easier. Thank you, Snoopy and Edward George Bulwer-Lytton for those words.

3 - If you haven't yet read Eldala, even this first draft chapter has spoilers, so be warned.

Kiran First Draft

It was a dark and stormy night. Kiran had planned to go into the village of Arath to deliver his father’s pottery, but the dark clouds had discouraged his departure. Standing in the doorway, enjoying the rain, his mother called to him. He went to her reluctantly.

“what is it?” he asked.

“I need a blanket from the trunk near the fireplace,” Kara answered.

Kiran opened the trunk, searching for the red blanket that his mother used on cold nights like this one. Something fluttered to the floor as he took the blanket out. He picked it up. It looked as if it had been written hurriedly, and it was on royal looking parchment. Letting his curiosity get the better of him, he took it to the firelight and began to read.

“please watch over this child. He is my son and his life is in danger. When he is a man, no older than twenty, you must tell him of his parentage. It is essential that he knows he is my son. He has a task of great importance.”

It was signed King Arathor.

Kiran felt a knot forming in his stomach. What did this mean?

‘Kiran, did you find the blanket?’ his mother asked.

“yes, I’ll be there in a moment.”

“please hurry, son. I'm so cold,” she urged.

Kiran slowly entered her room. She looked so small and fragile lying there in her bed. It had been days since she had been up and he was becoming more concerned for her health. When she had first come down with a fever, the village doctor had warned her to stay in bed but she had ignored him and had kept up with the chores. Kiran had tried to get her to rest but she had stubbornly refused. Now she was worse than before and he was quite concerned about her. She had been his stability, his rock and now it was his place to care for her, to be strong for her.

“what’s wrong?” she asked.

Kiran hesitated to answer. He felt small and shy, just as he had when he was a child and had been caught in doing something wrong. But he was almost twenty and knew he had to face this.

“I found this letter,” he admitted.

“I was afraid of that,: she said. “ we were going to tell you about that soon, but I fear the day has arrived and I am quite unprepared for this.”

Kiran waited for her to collect her thoughts. When she began, there were tears in her eyes.

“we found you on the road between here and Pent,’ she began. “you were wrapped in rich blankets and tucked into a basket. Your cries were so mournful. We had to take you in. we couldn’t just leave you on the road.” She paused for a moment and then continued. “at first, your father Kale was against keeping you, but I pleaded with him to let me keep you and raise you as our son. He thought it would be too dangerous. At the time, we lived in Pent, but we moved here so you would be safe, not so exposed to the dangers.”

“who am I?” Kiran asked.

“you are the son of the true king of Teleria, King Arathor.”

The knot that had begun to form earlier began to grow tighter. His mind reeled with the weight of her words. The world he had once thought of as safe and small had suddenly grown much larger. He couldn’t even imagine the implications of this news.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and ran out of the house.

Black Heart Prologue

2007-09-18T07:56:00.000-07:00

This is the most recent version, as of December 2010. I'm putting it in the back of my Eldala re-release, so there's little chance of it changing now.

********

The shadows of the forest closed in around Hamal, making it impossible to see his pursuer. He pressed into the space between two trees and gave himself a moment to rest. His breath came in short gasps, and his legs felt as if they were made of lead. A cold breeze penetrated his clothing and chilled his damp skin. How long had he been dodging his enemy? Three hours? Four?

He braced his hands on his legs and sucked in a long draft of air, but it did little to relieve the burning in his lungs. He took in a second and a third, all the while listening for the hunter. Except for the pounding of his pulse in his ears, the swirling fog muffled every sound.

He inspected his left thigh. The wound from the dagger bled again. If he used magic to heal it, his enemy would find him that much sooner. He sliced off another strip from his cloak and tied it over the first blood-soaked bandage.

Wincing against the pain, he took another long breath and debated the best course of action. Despite how well he knew this forest, if he stayed here, his pursuer would eventually find him. If he left his hiding place, he might be able to get to the Tyman fortress. His clan could protect him, but it would also put them in danger.

What had his visions told him? Two days ago, they had helped him escape. Now there was nothing to tell him what to do or where to go.

I’m coming for you. The familiar words hissed in his mind. I will find you. Just like I found the others.

Screams from the latest victims howled in his mind. He shoved them away. Familiar faces twisted in horror before him. Terror like he had never known squeezed his throat and constricted his chest.

You killed them all.

They wouldn’t cooperate.

A vision of Hamal’s own death erased the faces of the others. There was no escaping his fate. He knew it as surely as he knew his own name. He opened his eyes. He had to stay alive just a little longer. Before he took his first step, he froze with the sound of heavy footsteps and slow, rasping breaths.

Hamal took a few ragged breaths of his own and tried to still his mind. If this was the end, he had to warn her. She was one of the last.

He tried to make me restore it. I refused. Now he is going to kill me as well.

There was no answer, but he knew she had heard him. She was the most powerful seer among them. Surely she would be able to evade the threat.

He darted to the next tree and slammed into something hard. The impact knocked him onto his back. Though it was pitch black, he looked up. A momentary flash of violet came from the man’s eyes. Hamal remembered the cold malice in them.

“Last chance.” The voice was human and yet not.

“I serve the Baraca.” His heart beat frantically in his chest, but his voice was steady and strong. “I will never help you.”

“A shame,” the man said as he pressed a cold dagger to Hamal’s throat.

Eldala Sequel News

2007-07-27T15:18:00.000-07:00

After reaching 78,000 words in Draft 2.5, I realized I needed to go back about 5000 words and re-vamp some things.

As to why I'm calling it draft 2.5 and not the sixth draft, you can read this post at my blog: Which which draft is she on anyway?