Guardian of the Sea

While I did several daily three minute free-writes this week, none of them really turned my crank enough to turn into a proper flash. Okay, maybe I could have generated enough interest in one or two of them to turn them into stories, but the weather’s been pretty grey and miserable lately and my solar batteries are completely deleted.

I thought you might like something a little different this week, so I looked through some of my older, yet still unfinished, novels and settled on an excerpt from Guardian of the Sea, my NaNo novel from 2014. This is a paranormal romantic suspense and I forgot how much I liked the story. Too bad I already have enough irons in the fire for now. :-D

The except is the opening of chapter one (which I’d forgotten I’d changed) and is pretty self-explanatory.

"Happy Birthday, Tiamat," Samuel Griffin, Griff to his friends, said. He placed a small cake, in the shape of a dolphin, on the table in front of the boy and lit the candle.

"I'm too old for birthday cakes," the boy protested, but any fool could see he was pleased.

"You're never too old for birthday cakes, not even at the ripe old age of sixteen. Now make a wish and blow out the candle."

Grinning, the boy closed his eyes and made his wish, then blew the candle out.

"I'll bet I can guess what you wished for," the old man said shrewdly, eyes twinkling as the boy blushed. "Don't you worry, she'll be here at the end of the month, and they're letting her stay for the whole summer."

"Really?" Tiamat's eyes lit up. "Can I show her the grotto, Griff?"

"I don't see why not. Tavi's almost as good as I am at keeping secrets. In the meantime, she wanted me to give you this from her." He handed Tiamat a flat, square package wrapped in ocean blue paper and tied with a silver ribbon.

Tiamat turned the package carefully around and around in his hands before finally undoing the ribbon. Folding back the paper he rolled his eyes as he uncovered a flat box. Inside the box, beneath a layer of tissue paper, was a picture in a frame.

"I remember that day," the boy murmured. The picture was of him and a dark-haired girl two years younger than him, standing on a beach with an arm around each other's waist. Though the sky behind them was cloudy, a shaft of sunlight spilled over them. They both grinned at the camera, as though knowing they were about to be splashed by the wave behind them. The frame itself was imbedded with hundreds of white seashells - cowries, scallops, limpets.

"These came from the cove," he said, stroking them lightly.

"I've got something for you too." Samuel laid a cloth wrapped object on the table in front of him. Tiamat parted the folds of the cloth, then looked up in surprise.

"It belonged to your father," Samuel said gruffly. "I promised him I'd pass it on to you when I judged you ready."

"And you think I'm ready?"

"Every Guardian needs a good belt knife."

"I'm not a Guardian yet, Griff," Tiamat pointed out. He stroked the carved handle. Unable to resist, he pulled the knife out of its sheath. The hilt was carved from the ivory of a narwhale horn, the blade obsidian. It was older even than the house they were sitting in.

"No," Samuel said with a sigh. "But I don't mind telling you, I'll be glad when I can lay that particular burden at your feet."

"Has it really been that bad?"

"No," Sam admitted. "It hasn't. This coast is pretty quiet. But the changeling blood runs pretty thin in these old veins. The Guardianship would be better off with a full changeling."

"My dad didn't think so, that's why he passed the Guardianship to you."

"Only to keep in trust for you. Now, are we going to eat this cake, or just sit here admiring it?"