From Crystal Mountains

They’ve burned down her home. Now Haya must navigate a treacherous world to save everything she holds dear.

Having said goodbye to her old life, Haya’s real journey begins. But surviving in the snow capped mountains and wilds will test her in ways she couldn’t have prepared for. It’s not just the environment that could kill her though.

The Skithian forces are out looking for her and she’ll have to contend with slave-trading marauders on the path too. Her foes are cunning, deadly, and numerous, but Haya has been honing her gift. And she’s now committed more than ever to her mission of saving Prince Shroding.

On her adventure she’ll meet potential new allies and soldiers rallying for their cause, but can she trust them? When her foes close in, she’ll have to fight fire with fire against a cunning opponent who’s not afraid to use the most devious of tactics to end her mission. But failure is not an option–not when she realizes she’s fallen in love with the prince.

Haya’s epic fantasy story continues in From Crystal Mountains. The tension grows even hotter in this YA romance set amidst war, adventure, and peril at every turn where swords, wit, and powerful magic determine who lives and dies.

The sun embraced the treetops, shining ribbons of gold through the encroaching night, as if a call to hope, even if things seemed without it now.
“You’re falling asleep on the horse again.”
I startled slightly as Shroding’s voice filled my mind.
“I wasn’t asleep,” I protested, though my eyes had, in fact, been closed. Though I hadn’t kept a normal schedule these last few months, I had still grown up on a farm. I was timed to rise and fall with the sun, and being with Shroding was the safest I had felt in months. With my body finally at peace it seemed to be reverting to old ways.
“How do you even manage that… with all the bouncing?” Shroding mused. He gestured towards where I was atop Etienne, whose hooves clopped steadily along the dirt path.
“I wasn’t asleep,” I insisted with a laugh, puffs of white pluming in the air with each of my breaths.
“Then have you taken up meditation?”
“I’m just resting my eyes. All these trees and more trees are giving me eyestrain.” I closed my eyes again for emphasis.
“Nature could never give someone eyestrain.” He deadpanned.
“Fine, fine, you win, I’m exhausted.”
Etienne slowed to a stop beneath me.
A jolt of panic zipped through my chest—I was still skittish from all that had happened on the farm. There must be some danger that had caused us to halt. I opened my eyes, my panic turning to awe as before me spread a wide view of the western snowcapped mountains and the most beautiful sunset of watercolor pinks and teal blues.
“Wow,” I breathed. Golden beams clung to the rock face as if the sun wasn’t ready to let go just yet. I looked down at Shroding. I know how you feel, I thought in agreement with the sun. I had let go of a lot to be here, and though I did not regret my choice, I had not truly been ready for it either.
“What were you saying about trees?” Shroding teased, stepping into an errant pool of golden light. His fur refracted rainbows between the silvery strands.
I gazed at him with that strange sense of allegiance and wonder I had felt in the woods only last night, when I realized who he really was. The lost prince, the one born to save the world from Skithian. I was glad I was on Etienne because if I wasn’t, I probably would have threaded my fingers through his fur in amazement as I had done so inappropriately before.
Distracting myself, I looked up at the fading light of day. It had been dawn when we left the farm… left Micah and the children, and now night was falling once more. Sorrow laced through my heart as I recalled the hurt on the kids’ innocent faces as I rode away. The love in Micah’s eyes, a love I didn’t know how to return. And despite my effort all day not thinking about them, and all that had transpired, the moment I did, bile rose in my throat. Denying the grief I was in did not make it go away.
I shivered as the silent autumn air snaked through my burned and tattered clothes, unforgiving in its chill. As unforgiving as the path my thoughts had gone down. I quickened Etienne’s pace, eager to catch up to Shroding, who had moved nearly out of sight.
My stomach growled softly. It would be best to find a town or village where we could stay for the night and get supplies. It would be nice to have a coat for when the altitude brought snow down upon us, for no doubt it would soon, and the frayed remains of my mother’s beige coat did very little against such an eventuality. But what towns were this deep into the mountains?
“Prince Shroding?” I called, my voice timid. “Shouldn’t we be settling down for the night? Finding a town or something?”
He was quiet for a long moment. “No, I’m afraid that’s not possible. It will draw unnecessary attention.”
“Attention?”
“I don’t think you want another experience like the one from last night, in the alley.”
I stiffened, recalling the possessed men who’d attacked me outside the club. Their hollow purple eyes.
“You have no idea how…” He paused, his words a jumble as he struggled to find the right one to complete his thought. “… odd… you feel?”
I opened my eyes, which had closed to shut out the horrible memories of that night. “How I feel? Do you mean the king’s power?”
“You emanate the strongest vibration to ever exist; even a novice with the gift would be able to sense that.”