Title: Rise of the Sidenah
Author: C.M. Story
Genre: YA Fantasy
Adrienna Vedica longs
to build the creatures living in her imagination. One day, she hopes to sculpt
them out of stone, creating great statues like those that guard the Celany
village.
She doesn’t understand why everyone seems to disapprove.
It’s only when Tishaan, a powerful man in the high council, agrees to help her sculpt that Adrienna is finally able to pursue her passion. She dives into her work, but creates with such energy she collapses from exhaustion before seeing the final results, giving Tishaan time to hide her masterpieces away.
Her mentor, Sreng—the man she secretly loves—tries to convince her that Tishaan is using her, but she can’t abandon her art. Only when people start showing up dead does she think again. There’s something off about Tishaan…and then Sreng shows her one of her early works.
But something is wrong.
It’s alive. And it’s digging a grave.
She doesn’t understand why everyone seems to disapprove.
It’s only when Tishaan, a powerful man in the high council, agrees to help her sculpt that Adrienna is finally able to pursue her passion. She dives into her work, but creates with such energy she collapses from exhaustion before seeing the final results, giving Tishaan time to hide her masterpieces away.
Her mentor, Sreng—the man she secretly loves—tries to convince her that Tishaan is using her, but she can’t abandon her art. Only when people start showing up dead does she think again. There’s something off about Tishaan…and then Sreng shows her one of her early works.
But something is wrong.
It’s alive. And it’s digging a grave.
Author Bio
C. M. Story has always
been a fan of fantasy in all its many forms, including the kind she frequently
indulged in during boring lectures in school. She didn't try her hand at
penning her own stories, however, until long after she'd gotten her Bachelor's
degree in music.
Once she sold her first short story, she got a writing job and never looked back. Today she runs a successful freelance writing and editing business out of her home in Idaho, and frequently travels to other inspiring places with her trusty laptop in tow. And yes, despite rumors to the contrary, "Story" is her real last name.
"Rise of the Sidenah" was inspired by gothic architecture, a tune by "The Calling," and the idea that following the heart may cause pain, but is the only way to truly fulfill one's purpose in life.
Find more at cmstorybook.com.
Once she sold her first short story, she got a writing job and never looked back. Today she runs a successful freelance writing and editing business out of her home in Idaho, and frequently travels to other inspiring places with her trusty laptop in tow. And yes, despite rumors to the contrary, "Story" is her real last name.
"Rise of the Sidenah" was inspired by gothic architecture, a tune by "The Calling," and the idea that following the heart may cause pain, but is the only way to truly fulfill one's purpose in life.
Find more at cmstorybook.com.
Links
Website: http://cmstorybook.com/
Writing &
Wellness: http://www.writingandwellness.com/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/colleen_m_story
EXCERPT
A narrow ravine stretched before them, echoing the path
of an ancient tributary. Sheer rock enclosed both sides, the ground only about
fifteen paces wide. Tishaan slid down the hill and trotted ahead, arms out.
Sreng followed, placing his feet carefully as he made his way down. Adrienna
started after him, her gaze glued to the ground, but when she looked up again,
she stopped.
Pressed from the opposite cliff like pudding from a
pastry was the purest white rock she had ever seen. Covered in a dazzling array
of crystals, it rippled its way to the ground and then flowed outward in a
shelf-like formation. She walked toward it. Chill bumps dotted her arms. When
she reached level ground, she glanced at the boys, but they stood at opposite
sides of a small pond some distance away.
Just as well. She wished to examine the stone alone.
Where the shelf met the corner of the ravine, broken
pieces lay on top of one another in a pile. She tucked one of the larger ones
into the folds of her skirt and tiptoed to where the formation extended far
enough to cast shade. On her hands and knees, she scrambled underneath. With
her back to the cliff, she looked at the stone. Already its shape spoke of
something to come, a neck here, a head, the tail there. A burning energy rose
inside her chest and pressed on her lungs. Using a smaller, pointed rock, she
began to carve. When the dust fell, she tasted it. Gritty powder tingled the
tip of her tongue. She worked faster, chipping off chunks and digging crevices
into the stone flesh. As the pieces littered her skirt, she told herself she
must remember to brush it off before returning home.
Her mother wouldn’t approve.
The sun drifted behind her and still she carved, hands
moving at a feverish pace, shaping the stone while Sreng and Tishaan fashioned
fishing poles out of branches nearby. She didn’t stop to think about what she
was doing. Time danced around her in a dream. When she got to the eyes and
mouth she slowed, her nose a breath away from the rock. With her fingernails
she etched careful details. She didn’t remember when she stopped, or when her
eyes closed in exhaustion. Only that when she opened them, he was there.
His shoes appeared first, laced and short on his ankle,
and then the mud-spattered legs, bare chest, and blue jewel. “So, Adrienna. You
found the white stone.”
Adrienna followed his gaze. The rock had changed. There
was a flattened head, four short legs, a fat body, curved tail, and sharp teeth
under wide lips. She gazed into the gouged eyes and felt her chest contract
around her heart.
Nuana. The creature’s name was Nuana.
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