Action-adventure – Siobhan Muir

Recipe for Romance: The Talking Horse

Posted on January 6, 2024January 5, 2024 by Siobhan Muir

Recipe for Romance Two champagne glasses against a purple sparkly background with bells and ribbons at their base

Welcome to Recipe for Romance! Each weekend, I share a snippet of a tale that either takes place in the current month or is coming out in the current month, and a recipe that either goes with the tale or goes with the month. Confused yet? Excellent! lol Let’s get started. I’m sharing a snippet of A WALK IN THE SAND, book 1 in the 4 part Ivory Road serial. The serial came out in January 2015 and finished in the end for 2023 so it took a while to finish. But it’s done and you can read the whole serial now (for those who wanted to wait). Iliana took a solo hiking trip and ended up in a world she doesn’t recognize. But she recognizes the guy who’s calling her by her character’s name in their upcoming film project. She’s NOT impressed. And then her horse talks to her. Available Now: A Walk in the Sand “You’re not going to stop playing, are you, Mr. Crowe?” Iliana shook her head. “Fine. Play your little game, but I’m done. I don’t need this and I’m outta here.” She swung onto the gray horse and settled her weight in the stirrup-less saddle. She turned the animal’s head toward a gap in the trees and urged the horse into a trot. “By all the Gods!” he shouted in frustration at her back. “I told you women were faithless.” Ahmad’s voice made her fury burn brighter, but she’d dealt with trolls in Hollywood. This guy was only a run-of-the-mill heckler. The gray horse lengthened its strides as they passed the edge of the oasis, and she did her best to ignore the corpse, still lying in the glaring sun. If it really is a dead body and not a dummy. She stopped the horse and tried to decide which way to go. All directions looked pretty much the same. Well done, now you’re out here alone with no idea which direction is west. At least she now had a horse. Iliana glanced down to the sand below to try to determine which way their shadow pointed. She frowned. Had she gotten here in the morning or afternoon? “I don’t think he’s accustomed to being spoken to like that.” She froze and looked around. No one stood near her. She sat alone on the horse. The horse huffed an indignant sigh and turned his head to eye her. Iliana swallowed hard. “Did you say something?” “Yes, I said, I don’t think he’s accustomed to being spoken to like that.” The voice echoed in her ears, but the horse’s lips had remained still. That’s it. I’ve gotten sunstroke. “I’m going crazy.” “That remains to be seen, but we’re still having this conversation anyway.” The gray snorted and tossed his head. “Is this some sort of cosmic joke? Horses can’t talk.” She snapped her mouth shut and shook her head. “And now I’m arguing with an animal.” “Only because you can’t seem to accept I can speak, and well enough for you to understand, young lady.” Iliana scrubbed her hands over her face. “No, no, no. This isn’t possible. There is no magic in the world except what Hollywood conjures. I must be dreaming this. I’m on a solo hike in New Mexico, minding my own business. This is just a dream from sun-stroke…” She glanced around uncertainly. “Except the sand is golden and Taggart Crowe has shown up.” Gluten-Free Fruit Pizza https://youtu.be/FcY23PrndGI This is basically a huge shortbread cookie with cream cheese frosting and fruit all over it. Best shared with those you love. Gluten-Free Fruit Pizza Ingredients Shortbread Crust 2 cups 1:1 Gluten-Free all-purpose flour (I use Bob’s Red Mill 1:1) 1/2 cup powdered sugar 1 cup (2 sticks) salted butter, room temp Mix ingredients and spread on a 14 inch pizza pan. Perforate with fork to allow for even baking.Bake at 350 F (180 C) for 15 minutes. Let cool. Pizza Toppings 1 (8 oz) bar of cream cheese, room temp 1/2 cup sugar Mix until smooth and spread over crust like a pizza sauce. 1 package (16 ounces) Driscoll’s Strawberries, about 7-9 strawberries sliced 1 package (6 ounces) Driscoll’s Blackberries, about 14 1 package (6 ounces) Driscoll’s Raspberries, about 36 1 package (6 ounces) Driscoll’s Blueberries, about 49 Building the Pizza Hull the strawberries and cut in ¼ -inch slices to make a total of 21 large slices, set aside. Wash the blackberries, raspberries, and blueberries and let fully drain. Assembly of Toppings if You Want to Post on Pinterest Working from the outside of the crust in: Row 1: Place 1 strawberry slice followed by 1 blackberry. Repeat process until 1st. row of circle is completed. In total, you should have 14 sliced strawberries and 14 blackberries. Row 2: Place 1 raspberry below strawberry from row 1, followed by 5 blueberries. Repeat process until 2nd row of circle is completed. In total, you should have 7 raspberries and 35 blueberries. Row 3: Place 1 raspberry below raspberry from row 2, followed by 1 blueberry. Repeat process until 3rd. row of circle is completed. In total, you should have 14 raspberries and 14 blueberries. Now work from inside of the crust out: Row 4: Jumping to the center of the crust, place 8 raspberries in a concentric circle. Row 5: Begin by placing 1 sliced strawberry with its point touching the double raspberries from row 2 and 3. Continue with the rest of the strawberries in a concentric circle. In total, you should have 7 sliced strawberries. Finish your fruit toppings by placing a raspberry in between each sliced strawberries from row 5. In total, you should have 7 raspberries. Do this if you want to post on Pinterest. Or this way if you just want to enjoy Make any pattern you like with strawberries, raspberries, blueberries, and blackberries, making them concentric circles or crossed lines or zigzags or happy face or whatever. It’s gonna taste awesome no matter what design you…

Recipe for Romance: Blue Cornbread

Posted on June 18, 2023June 18, 2023 by Siobhan Muir

Welcome to Recipe for Romance! Each weekend, I share a snippet of a tale that either takes place in the current month (in this case, June) or is coming out in the current month, and a recipe that either goes with the tale or goes with the month. Confused yet? Excellent! lol Let’s get started. I’m sharing a snippet of THE KAROBIS CALLS, book 4 in the 4 part Ivory Road serial. Iliana and Naomi have recovered Master Nobutake and they are hunting the kidnappers in hopes of recovering the rest of the people taken from the school. Things just went pear-shaped. The Ivory Road: The Karobis Calls Aristotle still insisted on keeping watch, which improved everyone’s health. Though they didn’t speak much except to determine which path to take and whether to go into the closest village for supplies, the pall of sickness had lifted. All that was left was their worry for Brandon and the kids. Aristotle also backed Naomi when it came to tracking the kidnappers and seemed indefatigable. He kept watch each night while the humans slept and traveled all day across any terrain they encountered without collapsing with exhaustion. She did catch him napping when they stopped for meals, but otherwise he remained alert. He did the same thing when we crossed the Karobis the first time. “How long can you go without sleep, Aristotle?” “As long as I need to. I rest when I can…uh-oh.” He stopped and swung his head back and forth. The road they’d been following split into a “Y,” both directions full of footprints. Iliana blinked as Naomi stopped her horse beside them, a frown marring her features. “Give me a moment.” Naomi dismounted and stood on the road, squinting at the dirt. “What’s wrong?” Naomi pointed. “They split up. Some of them took the western path and the rest went south.” She tilted her head. “Looks like three horses and a smaller group went west.” She glanced at Iliana. “What do we do, Master Rory?” “I…I don’t know.” Sweet glory, how the hell was she going to rescue everyone if they’d gone in two different directions? “Perhaps we should follow the smaller group.” Nobutake’s voice fell into the well of silence. “This would give us a better chance to overwhelm the kidnappers and if we free the captured, they can help us win the day so we might pursue the larger group.” Gluten-Free Blue Cornbread This is a traditional cornbread recipe that I modified to be gluten-free and used a different sweetener. It was a delicious treat. Ingredients 1-1/4 cups gluten-free 1:1 baking flour 3/4 cup blue cornmeal 1/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons sugar 1 tablespoon baking powder 1 teaspoon salt 2 large eggs 2 tablespoons agave syrup 3/4 cup milk (preferably whole but low-fat works too) 1 stick (1/2 cup) butter, melted and cooled Instructions Preheat the oven to 350°F degrees. Line a muffin pan with paper liners or spray with non-stick cooking spray. (I prefer to use non-stick cooking spray so the muffins get nice and crisp on the edges.) In a medium bowl, break up the eggs with a whisk. Whisk in the honey, and then the milk. Set aside. In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, cornmeal, sugar, baking powder, and salt. Add the milk mixture and the melted butter to the dry ingredients. Whisk until just blended. Do not overmix; it’s okay if there are a few lumps. Spoon the batter evenly into the prepared muffin pan, filling each cup about 3/4 full. Bake for 17 to 20 minutes, or until the tops are set and golden. (Note that the muffins will not dome.) Cool the muffins for a few minutes in the pan, then serve warm. Note: If you’d prefer to make this as cornbread rather than muffins, spray an 8-inch square pan with non-stick cooking spray and bake at 350 F (177 C) for 25 to 30 minutes. Freezer-Friendly Instructions: Cornbread muffins taste best when served right out of the oven but can be frozen in an airtight container or sealable plastic bag for up to 3 months. Thaw for 3 for 4 hours on the countertop before serving. To reheat, wrap them in aluminum foil and warm in a 350°F oven until hot. Alternatively, heat muffins in the microwave at 50 percent power for 30 to 45 seconds, or until just hot; do not overheat or muffins will get tough.

Recipe for Romance: Cinnamon Roll Apple Pie

Posted on June 11, 2023June 11, 2023 by Siobhan Muir

Welcome to Recipe for Romance! Each weekend, I share a snippet of a tale that either takes place in the current month (in this case, June or is coming out in the current month, and a recipe that either goes with the tale or goes with the month. Confused yet? Excellent! lol Let’s get started. I’m sharing a snippet of THE KAROBIS CALLS, book 4 in the 4 part Ivory Road serial. Iliana has returned to the school and found it burning. After she found survivors, she takes Naomi and goes after those kidnapped, including Brandon. I think everyone needs a sweet treat after something like that. Available Now: The Karobis Calls When they reached the end of the road to the school, Iliana pulled Aristotle to a stop, allowing Naomi to come alongside them. “Okay, we need to figure out who they are, where they’ve gone, and how many they took with them. You said you could track them?” Iliana dismounted and pulled Aristotle over to the side of the road. Naomi nodded as she slid off her horse. “My father taught me. It was the only way to know where to hunt for the day in my homeland.” Rather than look at the ground, Naomi narrowed her gaze at Iliana. “What do you think we should look for? Too many people have come from the village and obscured the tracks of the slavers.” Iliana held up a hand. “Let’s not make too many assumptions yet. First, you said they were dressed all in black, similar to me, right?” Naomi nodded. “Okay, our first thought would be the Knalish, but it could be the peoples who live east of your homeland, too. The desert folks that my people call the Bedouin.” Naomi shook her head. “I know those people. We call them the Tsornin, but while they dress in black, they have flowing robes rather than the tighter clothes you wear. And all the men who came to the school were dressed like you.” She frowned. “Why do you wear those clothes?” “I lived for a long time in the Karobis Desert, and fitting in without being a part of any particular worven or clan, was the safest. The Knalish saw what they wanted to see without asking questions.” That sounded plausible, right? Naomi’s eyes widened and she nodded slowly. “A disguise to live in peace.” “Exactly.” Thank goodness she agreed. Cinnamon Roll Apple Pie Cinnamon Roll Apple Pie Crust #1 2 puff pastry sheets 2 tbsp melted butter 4 tsp cinnamon 1 egg Brush butter over pastry sheet and add the cinnamon to cover. Roll sheets up into a cinnamon roll, cut the ends off to make even, and cut the roll into several ¾ inch disks. Place the disks on their sides in a pie plate all the way up to the rim. Press to flatten and merge into a crust. Brush with beaten egg. Apples Eight cups of sliced apples ½ cup of sugar 3 tbsp flour 1 tsp cinnamon Combine dry ingredients until well blended. Add 8 cups of sliced apples (we used Pink Lady) and toss with hands until completely covered with cinnamon sugar. Pour apples and cinnamon sugar remnants into brushed egg roll crust and spread out until it fills the pie basin. Crust #2 2 puff pastry sheets 2 tbsp melted butter 4 tsp cinnamon 1 egg Combine like the first crust, roll, and cut into disks. Arrange disks in a circular pattern on parchment paper. Cover with another sheet of parchment paper, and roll out into upper crust with rolling pin (like a regular crust). Remove top layer of parchment paper and lay the newly rolled crust on top of the apples. Trim extra off crust to fit pie plate and press edges together to seal. Brush top of crust with beaten egg and cut heat vents. Bake at 350 F (177 C) for 40 minutes.

RELEASE DAY THE KAROBIS CALLS

Posted on May 22, 2023May 22, 2023 by Siobhan Muir

It’s Release Day for THE IVORY ROAD: THE KAROBIS CALLS, the exciting conclusion to The Ivory Road serial. This is a 23 year old story that’s been reworked and changed into something new, even for me. I hope you’ve enjoyed Ivory’s journey. When I started this story, I was in the Aleutian Islands, working on my Master’s Thesis in volcanology. But in the evenings after fieldwork was done, my Muse refused to be quiet any longer (I’d ignored her all through college). So this story was born. But it evolved in 2022 and surprised even me. Here’s the blurb: Rushing to her home world to save a friend brought only heartache. Can Iliana now save Brandon? A desperate return to her world has left Iliana shaken, but a gut feeling that something’s wrong in Brandon’s world sends her riding hard for the Ivory School. When she arrives in Los Arboles, the campus is a smoking ruin and bodies litter the grounds. She finds a few survivors and learns Brandon—and others from the school—have been kidnapped…by an enemy everyone thought was dead. The only way to rescue Brandon is to use the skills she honed at his school. But she has no way of knowing if he survived the attack or if he even wants her rescue, and it’s not like she can text or track him with GPS. With the help of the only uninjured student, she heads back to the Karobis Desert, hoping she’s not too late to save everything that matters to her in this—or any—world. The Karobis Calls is the fourth story and dramatic conclusion to the four-part serial recounting Iliana’s journey along the Ivory Road. EXCERPT OF THE KAROBIS CALLS The world was still. Sunshine of early evening burnished the sunflowers in the fields around her and crickets sang in the grasses. Warmth as real as the freezing cold of Australia enveloped her and she took a deep breath of relief. “Do you ever get used to the sharp changes in weather and temperature?” She shook herself to release all the tension in her body from the harrowing ride. “Iliana…” Aristotle’s voice held caution as he trotted ahead. “What?” “Look ahead.” She swung her gaze ahead and all the comfort and heat left her body in a rush. Black smoke billowed in thick oily plumes from the smoldering trees around the main house of the Ivory School of Tactics and Warfare. The breeze painted the sky with streaks of black as fear ran with little cold feet up her spine. “Sweet glory, what the fuck? Run, Aristotle!” The horse launched into a pounding gallop up the road to the school and Iliana tried to come to grips with what she saw. The unfolding ruin made her stomach tighten and she hauled back on the reins as they made it to the smoking yard. Both the house and the stables had been set ablaze and now stood in blackened ruins, studs and beams sticking up like the ribs of huge animals. The fountain in the center was smashed to nothing but fragments, the water dribbling sluggishly from bent pipes. “Oh, my glory.” Iliana dismounted but couldn’t move a step away from Aristotle as her gaze took in everything. The doors to the house were burned away to nothing but the hinges. Inside, blackened rubble was all that remained of the tile floors and the furnishings. The dorms and outbuildings still smoldered sullenly as she turned slowly to look at the estate. Her gaze caught on something lying on the threshold of the burned-out house. Something vaguely familiar. “Aristotle, is that…is that a body?” His head reared back and his nostrils flared in surprise. “Yes.” “Oh sweet glory…” She swallowed hard and took a few steps closer, cataloging every detail like the props manager on a movie set. The body lay belly-down with one hand extended into the house as if the owner had been running inside before being stopped, violently. As she drew closer, she recognized Master Vasily’s Slavic features turned to the side, his eyes still open despite the charred skin. What little she’d eaten that morning came up in a rush and she turned to the side to keep from vomiting on the body. No, no, no. This can’t be happening. If Vasily is dead, then… Her body heaved again, emptying her stomach before she wiped her mouth on her arm, tears running down her face. “We have to check for more bodies, Iliana.” Aristotle’s voice sounded as shaken as she felt. “Survivors. We have to check for survivors.” She gritted her teeth. “There have to be survivors because I can’t accept that I wasn’t here to help Brandon when he needed me.” “The world doesn’t work that way.” “Yes, it damn well does. At least in my world, right now.” She raised her chin and stepped over Vasily’s body, ignoring the dull pain from her knee with each stride. She wiped her eyes on her black silks and focused on finding the residents of the school; anyone who could tell her what had happened. Broken tile and charred wood met each step as she searched the remains of the house. The second floor was completely gone, the smoke filling the air above the ground floor. She picked her way around burned and discarded furniture to discover Brandon’s library was nothing but ash. Her eyes filled with more tears, but she wasn’t sure if it was grief or smoke affecting them. The dining hall had suffered the most damage, both in furniture and in bodies. Iliana blinked back tears as she wrapped her silks around her face. She didn’t recognize every body, but Señora Cruz lay bristling with crossbow bolts surrounded by students missing limbs. “Oh dear sweet glory.” She turned away and heaved again, but nothing came up. Grief roared inside her as she moved through the rest of the house, searching for any survivors. She found Temujin inside a ring of bodies…

Recipe for Romance: Gluten-Free Bagels

Posted on April 15, 2023April 15, 2023 by Siobhan Muir

Welcome to Recipe for Romance! Each weekend, I share a snippet of a tale that either takes place in the current month (in this case, February) or is coming out in the current month, and a recipe that either goes with the tale or goes with the month. Confused yet? Excellent! lol Let’s get started. I’m sharing a snippet of THE KAROBIS CALLS, book 4 in the 4 part Ivory Road serial, coming on April 24 2023. Iliana went home to be there in time to say goodbye to a friend (no spoilers if you haven’t read book 3) but something’s off and she needs to get back to Brandon. It’s the first time she realizes something’s wrong in the other world. Coming April 24 2023: The Karobis Calls Iliana is having a text conversation with her bestie. The texts are in bold. ~~~~~~~~~~ Iliana frowned and rubbed the center of her chest against the sharp yearning pulling her to get up and go. But she couldn’t leave at the moment. It would be rude and weird. She’d have to wait at least until that evening once all the guests had left. Her gut said she needed to leave sooner than she expected. She glanced down at her phone as it buzzed again. How long is a few more days? You need to be home where family can take care of you. You shouldn’t be alone right now. She gave a half-smile he couldn’t see. I’m not alone. Mickey Gibbons and Jack Thomlin are here, as well as Taggart’s family. I’m good. Besides, I have a feeling I’m needed elsewhere. Colin: Elsewhere? Where else… Ohhhh. You mean ELSEWHERE with Brandon, right? Iliana shot a look around the room. No one looked at her. Jack and Ellen stood at the buffet, each holding plates as they talked to Emmett Crowe, Taggart’s dad. Mickey spoke with some of the station hands near the windows, and no one else approached her. She returned to her text conversation. Yeah, something’s not right. I have this gut feeling I need to get back there. The three little dots showed up almost immediately. I thought you told him where you were going. Didn’t you tell me he saw you ride away like that scene from Quigley Down Under? She sniffed and nodded. Yeah, so he should know I was telling the truth about crossing into different worlds. I don’t think it’s that. This feels different, like there’s an emergency in his world now. She could see Colin scowl and roll his eyes. Good glory, you’re just one woman. You can’t save everyone. What are you going to do? Gluten-Free Bagels I got this recipe from Gluten Free on a Shoestring and I’ve included the URL below so you can get the original recipe. https://glutenfreeonashoestring.com/gluten-free-plain-bagels

Snippet Sunday – I Mean You No Harm

Posted on August 27, 2022August 27, 2022 by Siobhan Muir

It’s time for Snippet Sunday and school has started. This is both awesome and hectic, and sometimes awesomely hectic. Muirlette #1 is a senior, so we have all that rigmarole too. Fun times. The serial is coming along with drastic changes to the original AND this episode is larger than the other two so far – almost 50K words though there’s still more rewrites and editing to be done. We’ll see. Today I’m showcasing IVORY ROAD: A WALK IN THE SAND and it’s available with the old cover. In this snippet, we’re in Iliana Rory’s (AKA Ivory) POV and she’s talking to a guy who just showed up and calls her by the wrong name. ~~~~~~ “Kyra?” The man named Crowe coaxed her to speak. She returned her gaze to him, taking in his desert costume and his gravelly voice. He sounds familiar, almost Aussie. What were the odds her upcoming costar Taggart Crowe was playing an elaborate trick on her before filming started? She could adopt the part of the outback woman, complete with Australian accent. Would it make sense out here in this desert? Does any of this make sense? Brandon Crowe thought he knew her, so if she turned out to be someone else, he really couldn’t fault her. She decided against the accent, but she would play Kyra for now. “I don’t think I am the one you’re looking for.” She met Crowe’s gaze. “Who else would be all the way out here in this oasis?” He took a few steps closer to her, but stopped when she tightened her hold on her sword. “Easy, Kyra. I mean you no harm, but the Knalish Army is hot on our trail. I need you to show us the way across the desert to the west.” Yeah, like that’s gonna happen. “From where do you think you know me? I don’t recognize you or your voice. I don’t even know your name.” He blinked in surprise over the cloth across his face. “It’s me, Brandon Crowe. I was here two years ago looking for the Treasure Vault. You found me dying out in the sands and brought me to this oasis.” “Show me your face.” She didn’t think it would help, but it would buy her some time. He nodded and quickly unwrapped the midnight blue scarf from around his face until it hung down his back. She started and gaped. Sad hazel eyes looked out over a short rounded nose and thin lips. He had a goatee that flowed up his jaw to form a beard. Fury at his games rose in her chest. What the fuck is this guy playing at? Taggart Crowe, her fellow actor and male lead, stood before her with a confident smile. ~~~~~~~ Oh, that’s not going to go well. 😉 There are several great authors on the Weekend Writer Warriors list, the Snippet Sunday Facebook group, and the Rainbow Snippets Facebook group. A few of my favorites are, P.T. Wyant, Karen Michelle Nutt, Veronica Scott, Karysa Faire, and Iris Blobel. Here’s the blurb for A WALK IN THE SAND – With a New cover coming soon!: Available Wide in eBook The adventure of Ivory’s lifetime might just be the death of her… When it comes to make believe, A-list actress Ivory is a professional. But when a desert hike takes her across a dimensional rift, her real-life self, Iliana Rory, must separate fantasy from reality. The man she swears is the costar in her next movie might share the same surname and appearance, but there are no sets in this Mr. Crowe’s world, no props, and no director to yell “cut” before blood is spilled. With a fortune in stolen treasure and the forces of the Knalish army hot on their trail, Brandon Crowe and his partner, Ahmad, must cross a desert neither of them knows well. Mistaken for their guide, Iliana seizes any chance to stay ahead of the army and survive in this new world. Adventure straight out of a Hollywood blockbuster might be on Iliana’s bucket-list, but she never dreamed there’d be the real possibility of death when the end credits roll. A Walk in the Sand is the first story in the four part serial recounting Iliana’s journey along the Ivory Road.

The Desert King: Chapter Fifteen

Posted on July 25, 2022July 26, 2022 by Siobhan Muir

Author’s Note: So this story has taken a mighty left turn compared to the original version of it. I’ve changed a couple things along the way, but this chapter introduces a redemption arc for one of the characters who didn’t get it in the first iteration. Can you decide which character it is? Happy reading. Chapter Fifteen: Tests of Character Despite a decent meal, plenty of water, and a good night’s rest in Kulastri’s blanket, Majir’s surly attitude didn’t improve in the morning. She’d risen well before either of the young men in her care. She checked the traps, cleaned the game, and ate in the stillness of the morning. She prepared enough food for both of them to eat well, though Majir would receive the smaller portion given the state of starvation in which he arrived. When they woke, Terim quietly took his portion and ate. Majir, on the other hand, complained bitterly that the blanket didn’t keep him warm and he hadn’t gotten enough food, which was unfair. Kulastri thanked her lucky stars she had the silk across her face to hide her scowl, but it didn’t hide her eye roll. Zorrick caught it and snickered despite the complaining. “You got the smaller portion because your body couldn’t handle more at this moment.” She kept her voice even despite the urge to tell Majir to shut up. “That’s not fair!” “What’s not fair?” Terim glanced up. “That you get more food. If I don’t deserve more, you certainly don’t.” “Oh, for the love of the gods, I’ll give you my extras if it’ll make you shut up.” Terim rose to put some of his food into Majir’s bowl, but Kulastri stopped him. “No, you need the fuel to make it to our next destination today and he will just spew it up when his stomach can’t take it.” She pulled Terim back to his seat. “I’ll make some tea that will encourage the feeling of satiation. Eat slowly, Blacksmith’s son, or you won’t be able to keep it down.” She filled a pot with water and set it on the fire, resigning herself to leaving later than she intended. “What a spoiled, ill-mannered lout!” Zorrick’s words accompanied a royal scowl of disdain. “He’s an uncouth cur with no sense of gratitude, manners, decorum, hell, even kindness!” The prince paced from one side of camp to the other, not even bothering to step around the fire. “Why did you bother giving him your blanket? Terim’s right. The bastard should’ve slept cold.” Kulastri snorted and nodded. Perhaps that night she would let him sleep cold. “Are you going to move to the next camp north?” Zorrick stopped beside her as she rose. She shook her head. “I will fill the water skins. Put them out for me so we can carry enough for today’s trip.” Terim did as she asked, but Majir moaned and groaned about how hard it was to get to his. At least he had one with him. She took the ones from her pack and headed for the stream so have a few moments to speak to Zorrick alone. True, the other men couldn’t see him, but the last thing she needed was for either of them to brand her as crazy or supernatural. She rolled her eyes again at the thought of how rural folks often responded to the unknown. With death threats and stonings. Zorrick was still seething when she reached the stream. “Please tell me you’re not going to train him to be in the royal guard.” She shrugged just to egg him one. “I dunno. Maybe he’ll have some decent qualities once we hike the attitude out of him.” “Kulastri, you can’t be serious.” Zorrick rounded on her. “He doesn’t have the temperament to take orders, much less follow them. He’ll question everything and whine while doing it.” “Oh, come on, Zorrick. I seem to recall a few of those whine-fests from you, once upon a time.” She filled one water skin after another. “And I didn’t give up on you.” “I was of royal blood! You hadto train me, or my father would’ve handed you your walking papers.” “Be that as it may, we managed to train the whine out of you.” She capped the last skin and rose. “Are you suggesting I don’t give Majir the same courtesy? I mean, I figure if I can train a whiny, entitled prince, I can handle just about anyone.” Zorrick opened his mouth then grinned ruefully and grunted a laugh. “Yeah, I have to admit that’s true. And you weren’t much older than me so it blew my mind anyone my age could be so heartless and unyielding.” “Your father made it very clear I was to succeed or die trying. It was a very motivational speech.” Zorrick laughed. “I see your point.” Then he sobered. “But are you truly going to train Majir?” She shrugged again, losing her amusement. “I don’t know if I can. Garbage steel cracks and breaks after forging and cooling. Only the good steel can be honed into blades of quality. The question is, is Majir good steel or garbage?” “You know my current opinion.” She nodded. “Yes. I don’t think we’ll be heading north for a bit. As long as the weather stays mild, I’ll hike them around the foothills to build their stamina. If Majir pulls his head out of his ass, we’ll turn north. If he doesn’t, well…” She shot the prince a significant look. “You’ll kill him?” “No.” She frowned. “I’ll give him enough supplies to make the trip home to his village.” “Oh, okay.” They headed back toward camp and Zorrick shook his head. “That’s probably a good idea. Unless his attitude completely changes, he’s not going to be anything but dead weight.” Kulastri grimaced and took a deep breath before stepping back into the camp where Majir was whining about his stomach hurting. Other people’s entitled children. She made the tea…

The Desert King: Chapter Fourteen

Posted on June 7, 2022June 7, 2022 by Siobhan Muir

Author’s Note: Okay, so this serial has NOT gone to plan. Have I been writing? Yes. Have I been working on this story? Er, sometimes. And more often now that a few other projects are off my plate. Three new releases coming soon! Plus this new chapter. Happy reading. Chapter Fourteen: Tests of Strength “So…he seems nice.” Kulastri trapped her bark of laughter behind her tight lips. She couldn’t very well tell the prince to shut up, even if he was a ghost. “Oh, come on. Not even a crack? Damn, I need to work on my delivery.” Zorrick heaved an exaggerated sigh and narrowed his eyes. “You kind of glossed over the reason for my death, though.” Kulastri shook her head. “I didn’t want to scare Terim so much he won’t come with me. He can walk away right now, and we’d have no choice but to let him. If he knows he’s walking into a lion’s den full of intrigue and death threats, he’ll be out the door and headed back home before we could say squat.” “You’re not going to tell him?” She grimaced. “Not for a while. Not until he’s ready to face some of the threats.” Zorrick sighed. “There are a lot of them.” She nodded. “I know.” She tilted her head to look up at him. “He didn’t seem to see you, though.” “Yeah, I noticed that. But I also didn’t let him see me, either.” She blinked. “What? It’s a choice?” The prince had the grace to look chagrinned. “Yeah, I figured it out the moment he opened his eyes. There was this sensation of choice and I picked no for now. Like you said, I didn’t want him to be out the door and headed back home before we could say squat.” Kulastri snorted. “Then I need to prepare for us to move tomorrow. Are there more rabbits in the traps?” Zorrick sighed. “Yes, Mom.” “Good. At least you know who deserves your respect.” She headed out to collect the animals and skin them. “Keep an eye on him while I’m gone. I have to get the camp ready to move tomorrow. Hopefully with enough to eat and drink he’ll be able to carry his own gear. I can’t carry it all and you’re no help.” “Hey, I’m making sure you’re eating well at least.” Zorrick set his hands on his hips. “That should count for something.” “Oh, it does. More work.” “Hey, Kulastri?” Something in Zorrick’s voice made her pause. “Yes?” “Keep an eye out. Your boy in there isn’t the only one who came this way. Someone’s following him.” “What?” She reversed direction and returned to the ghost’s side. “Where?” Zorrick turned his gaze to the lower foothills. “He doesn’t show himself much, but he definitely followed Terim. He wears the same clothes as the people of the village. I don’t know what his intent is or why he’s here, but Terim didn’t come alone.” Kulastri narrowed her eyes as she scanned the hills below. “Do you think Terim is aware of the pursuer?” Zorrick shook his head. “I doubt it. That kid was half-dead when we got to him and the guy following him was still too far away to be partner of any kind.” “Do you see him at the moment?” Zorrick shook his head. “No. But I suspect he’s waiting for you to either leave the area or settle in for the night.” “Hmm.” She narrowed her eyes. “I’m going to clean out the traps and collect them. Give me a shout if our follower reveals himself.” He nodded. “Will do.” She didn’t waste time. She headed through the trees to the traps she’d laid out and collected both the prey and the snares while keeping an eye on her surroundings. Zorrick made it sound as if the man following Terim hadn’t been close, but she wasn’t taking any chances. Terim was still too weak to fight anyone and Zorrick couldn’t affect the living. It would be all up to her to defend their little party until Terim was trained. She made it back to the cave in record time and sat out front behind the blind to clean the rabbits she’d caught. She preferred cleaning far from the cave to keep predators away, but she didn’t want to leave Terim exposed. And we all know humans are the worst predators of all. She collected the viscera and took everything a few hundred meters from the cave, keeping watch for anything moving. She saw nothing but it wouldn’t take long for some of the larger carnivores to scent her offerings. When she returned, Zorrick stood leaning against a tree, his gaze focused outward. “Do you see him?” “No, but I know where he’s hiding.” His blunt statement made dread pool in her gut. “He’ll most likely wait until tonight to make a move. I’ll tighten down the blind to hide the fire’s light.” She scanned the lower hills. “Does he seem to be aware of our location?” “It’s unclear.” Plan for the worst, hope for the best. She nodded and got to work preparing the rabbit meat for stew and drying over the fire. It wouldn’t be ideal given the time constraints she had, but it would have to do. Terim woke up briefly and ate some of the stew, but she cautioned him to rest as much as possible in preparation for their journey the next day. Kulastri and Zorrick kept watch, but nothing approached the cave even as dusk darkened to true night. She banked the fire and settled in to wait, stretched across the mouth of the cave. She didn’t know the intent of the person following Terim, but her gut told her to be wary. “Get some sleep, Master Warrior.” Zorrick nodded to her. “I’ll keep watch and wake you should you be needed. My gut says he’ll wait until you bed down to make his move if he chooses to do…

The Desert King: Chapter Thirteen

Posted on March 25, 2022March 25, 2022 by Siobhan Muir

Author’s Note: Okay, so this year has NOT gone completely to plan. Have I been writing? Yes. Have I been working on this story? Er, no. But I have been writing. Does that count? I hope you enjoy the new chapter – and pretty much all of it is new writing. Chapter Thirteen: First Impressions Terim woke warm and rested for the first time in days. Instead of lying under the stars where anything could get to him, he lay cocooned in blankets under a stone ceiling. Sunlight came from an opening several feet away with a cool breeze flitting about the space. He could barely see the sky, but the blue shone through the tree branches hiding it. I don’t want to get up yet. Not that anyone was expecting him to. His father was in the village days behind him and the only company he had were the few animals he’d seen on his trek. So, how did I get into a cave? He searched his memories, but nothing came to mind beyond endless thirst and hunger, and constant trudging uphill. Where am I now? Uncertainty and fear crept from his gut up to close his throat until he coughed in his effort to breathe. He tried to slow his heart as he scanned the space around him, taking in details he’d missed before. Some sort of covering screened most of the entrance to the cave, but left space for light to come in and smoke to flow out. A fire pit had been dug in the dirt floor and the remnants of a fire smoldered with glowing coals. Gear piled up across from him showed his pack as well as another, a folded blanket, and some cooking gear. He tested his strength and gingerly sat up, trying to get a better view. Footprints marred the dirt floor, but no one else shared the cave with him at the moment. The scent of water filled the air despite the clear sky and wondered if it had rained while he slept. So, who built the fire? Was it the stranger in black? Had he found the one he pursued? Terim leaned back against the wall and tried to remember. He’d traveled for five days across the desert sands on foot, following the mysterious, unfading footprints, despite the wind’s best efforts. When the lands turned from sand to scrubby hills, his water supply ran out and he hadn’t found more. He remembered pain everywhere and a constant uphill path until…nothing. His memory faded. Had he made it to this shelter on his own? He glanced down at the blanket around him. The way he lay swaddled like a mummy suggested someone had done this to him. Did that mean he’d found the one he followed? Working his arms free, he let the blanket slide down from his shoulders to puddle in his lap but stopped when a gentle gust blew through the gap in the door cover. Icy fingers brushed his skin and he shivered. Where was his shirt? He slid his hands down his body under the blanket and sighed with relief. He still wore his pants, though wiggling his toes told him his socks were missing as well. He shot a look back at the gear, but he couldn’t see any loose items lying about. Questions continued to bubble to the surface of his mind as he tugged the blanket back up over his shoulders. It was soft, made from a finer quality wool than that of his desert home, and indigo in color. Like the sky after the sun has gone down, but light still remains. Terim fingered the blanket, trying to fit together the pieces of his memory with the reality in which he woke. Someone must have brought him into the cave, taken his shirt, and wrapped him in the fine blanket. A scuff of feet on stone made him turn his head. A shadow filled the slim doorway and paused, surveying him. The mysterious stranger from the old palace ruins. Still dressed in black silk from head to toe, the person set down a pot full of water beside the smoldering fire and took time to build it up until it crackled happily. The person balanced the pot on three rocks over the flames and set a lid on top before sitting back and turning their attention to him. Terim watched with mounting dread, wondering if the stranger would speak. Instead of speaking, the stranger lit a piece of wood and used it as a match to light a small oil lantern no larger than the length of his hand. They brought the lantern closer to Terim and crouched beside him, studying his features. He returned the scrutiny. Eyes of green with flecks of gold met his and a memory of someone he’d met before flashed across his mind. It was so fleeting, he couldn’t pin it down and it disappeared as fast as it arrived. The eyes crinkled at their edges as the stranger smiled, though the silk hid the lower half of their face. “Good morning.” The stranger’s voice was higher than he expected and had an unusual accent though they used the Common tongue. “I hope you rested well. When I found you, you suffered from exhaustion and dehydration. I was concerned you might give up, but I’m happy to be wrong. How are you feeling?” Though the stranger’s voice had an odd timbre, it was smooth, like water flowing over sand. He could listen to them speak for days and be content. Don’t be a wanker. He blinked a couple of times. What the hell is a wanker? But he knew the word, though he hadn’t heard anyone around him speak it. It was just there, like a buried memory, in his mind. The stranger tilted their head. “Brain fog?” “What?” “Do you have brain fog? It’s a common symptom of exhaustion and dehydration.” The stranger glanced back at…

The Desert King: Chapter Ten

Posted on October 18, 2021October 18, 2021 by Siobhan Muir

Author’s Note: Welcome back! I hope the first Part of Lady of a Thousand Names drew you here and you’re continuing the story. This is the first chapter of Part 2: The Desert King and it’s a Patreon exclusive. Happy reading Chapter Ten: Stranger on the Hill Terim Gottherd wiped his hand across his brow and shook his head to clear his mind. The dreams had returned with a vengeance. Dreams of being chased through some sort of library by men with wickedly curved swords. Or other dreams of a woman with wise eyes and vast knowledge who led him through worlds of wonder. There was even a dream where he’d literally stepped off a cliff into a vast ocean. They all seemed so real that when he woke from them, he couldn’t remember who or where he was, and not even his own father looked familiar. He’d have to relearn his place, his job, and his name until they felt comfortable again. But they never really did, like he played a part everyone else understood but left him confused. Taking a deep breath, he adjusted his hat and trained his gaze on the goats grazing on the stiff desert grasses that pushed up between the rocks. Their bells jangled in the hot air and he recounted them, making sure none had disappeared during his musings. Still have twenty-two goats. Good. He adjusted his hat and leaned against a boulder in the shadow of an Orb Tree. The branches made a complete circle, leaving a round shadow on the ground. The boulder provided an additional circle and the shadow looked like a bunched infinity symbol he’d seen on the old ruins above the village. He shot a look toward them now and froze. A figure stood at the edge of the ruins, gazing down on the village. Terim wouldn’t have noticed it except for the flash of black silk waving like a flag in the afternoon breeze. Unease slid through him, along with a sense of déjà vu. I’ve seen this person before. Dressed like one of the Ancient Nomads, the stranger wore a black turban on their head and a piece of black silk across their nose and mouth to keep out the sand riding the winds across the shifting western dunes. No other features were visible at his distance, but Terim swore the shape of the silhouette was familiar. He waited for the figure to move, but the person simply stood leaning against one of the crumbling walls, as patient as the merciless sun upon the sands. Would they come down to the village? Were they there to hunt someone or something? Terim gathered up his herd of goats and ushered them down to the village despite the heat of the day. He didn’t want to get caught alone. When he reached the village, it was abuzz with the news of the stranger. “Did you see what’s on the ruins?” The story flitted between the old men. “It’s one of the Ancients come for a reckoning on our indiscretions.” “It’s true. We should repent.” “I’m not afraid of some random stranger.” The younger men had a different approach. “I could take him in an instant.” Terim shook his head as he herded the goats home. Oh yeah, go threaten a stranger whose abilities you don’t know and who might not mean any harm. A few of the younger men and boys were brave enough to approach the figure who watched them come with silent stoicism, but none got closer than shouting distance. A few threw taunts and jeers, but when they got no reaction, they scampered back to the village with their egos bruised. Terim hadn’t given his father an explanation for his early return, but when the news of the stranger took everyone’s attention and conversation, his father didn’t notice. He couldn’t shake the thought that the stranger brought a message for him, though the silhouette never moved from the perch on the wall. Terim fed the vegetable leavings from supper to the herd as he scanned the ruins for the stranger. What are they doing here? “It’s a bad omen, I tell you. It means the winter rains won’t come.” Terim’s father Dortham shook his head. “Some reckless boys dared each other to visit the ruins tonight to catch the stranger sleeping. Fools. The last thing we need is to irritate the gods’ messenger.” “You think the person is a messenger of the gods?” Terim broke a piece of bread off the loaf, before dipping it in their vegetable and goat stew. “I’m sure of it. Did you see the ruins in at sundown? The sun’s dyin’ light painted the man crimson red. And he’s still waitin’. It’s a bad omen, mark my words, boy.” Terim agreed it was an omen, but he couldn’t agree it was necessarily bad. He did his chores with his mind on the figure and the weird sense of familiarity. To his surprise, Dortham’s cronies gathered in front of their little house to discuss the new arrival. “It’s a bad omen, I’m telling you.” Dortham waved at the sky. Murmurs of agreement filtered through the gathered villagers. “I ain’t worried about omens. I wanna know what the stranger wants and how long he’s gonna stay.” A man with a grizzled gray beard pointed to the east. “Maybe it’s really a demon come to punish us for someone’s bad behavior. You remember when Roald cheated all those folks. He got the pox real bad soon after.” Gray Beard snorted. “Eh, he had the pox long before that. It finally just caught up with him, is all. It ain’t a demon.” “Mark my words, I’ll be the stranger is waitin’ for us all to go to sleep before he comes down to steal away one of our daughters.” An old woman in a red shawl scowled. “You all best lock your doors and guard your children well.” The group dispersed afterward, and…