From Golden Skies

A girl with hidden powers. A trapped prince. War on the horizon.

Seventeen-year-old Haya just wanted to help out on her family farm and maybe someday marry her best friend and secret crush. If not for the war raging between the nations of Shamar and Golan, it could have been a possibility. But when her family heads to war, she has to grow up fast and manage the farm herself.

That’s not the only headache she has.

There’s this mysterious cat that’s been hanging around the farm lately. And then there are the nightmares.

In them she’s hunted by horrible monsters of black smoke. She also meets a handsome prince in her dreams who tells her she has a magical gift stronger than all others and she must use it to save the kingdom. Regardless of if she believes the prince, her fate is already intertwined with his.

If Haya heeds the call to adventure, she’ll face danger and great evil in many forms. But with her responsibility to her family, can she really leave the place she’s always called home? And what of the dream romance she’s always wanted?

Featuring a strong female main character, magical creatures, terrifying enemies, and a slow burn friends to lovers YA romance. If you love epic fantasy and heroines discovering their powers, you are sure to enjoy Haya’s story.

“Haybale. Hayyyyybaaale.”
I moaned and rolled over, desperate to get away from the nagging voice. Unfortunately, I had fallen asleep on the chaise, and not my usual spot on the lounge, so instead of rolling into plush cushions, I tumbled to the hardwood floor with a thunk.
My brother laughed, towering over me, his shaggy brown curls falling into his hazel eyes as he continued to chortle at my expense.
Tiredly, I rubbed my elbow and shifted to sit up, when something snapped under my hip as I moved.
The last dregs of sleep vanished as I pulled the book I had fallen asleep reading from under my side. It flopped pathetically in my hand, cracked along the spine, the pages crumpled and bent. Oh no. The poor book. I would have to pay damages to the library for it.
I frowned at the sight of my ruined book and sent my most withering stare at my brother. It wasn’t that the book had great value, it was just the history of trade routes between the cities of Shamar. Still, it would be difficult to finish now with the pages nearly falling out.
“Theo, stop pestering your sister and go help your father in the fields!” Mom called from the kitchen, knowing, even without looking, that Theo had done something to annoy me.
My brother straightened his broad shoulders and held his hand out to me. “Just a minute, Mom!” he yelled back as he yanked me off the floor. I smacked my nose into his stupid oversized shoulder. He used to be so dang, scrawny, gangely and weighed down by sicknesses, but that all changed in the last few months, now at nearly eighteen he was massive, and at times my mind couldn’t rationalize the change.
“Happy seventeenth birthday, Haybale.” He grinned, pulling a wrapped bundle from behind his back that I hadn’t noticed. The golden wrapping glistened—he must have spent a pretty penny on it.
I took it, a mix of dread and excitement warring inside me at receiving the present.
Today wasn’t just my birthday.
“Open it after I leave,” Theo warned, and pointed his finger accusingly at me, as if I had already snuck a peek somehow.
I took in the slim military-grade Krav uniform he wore and the looming sunrise out our old farmhouse windows.
They would be coming just after breakfast.
“Why give it to me now if I can’t open it?” I whined, trying to hide my disappointment and dread. We’d known this day was coming ever since Theo got the vibration gift, a power that manifested at the age of fifteen, but knowing that didn’t make his leaving any easier.
The front door opened, and my dad, hulking and more broad-shouldered than his son, walked down the hall. The thud of his work boots made the worn wood floors creak in protest. He rounded the corner, and I took in the same green-hued Krav uniform on him that was on Theo.
My dad’s salt-and-pepper hair was braided tightly down his back, a style I had started copying for my own golden blonde hair, at the age of seven. A style I had maintained since.
My father smiled brightly at me, cupping my cheek as he walked by. “Morning, Haya.” He kissed the top of my head. “Happy birthday, baby.”
“Daaad…” I hated when he called me “baby,” just as much as when Theo called me Haybale, a nickname he and our friend Micah had come up with when we were ten and I fell off the barn loft into a pile of hay. Unfortunately only my small ego was bruised, so the name had stuck. I liked to think if I had actually hurt myself, the event would not have turned into a joke and my subsequent nickname.
“I was just about to come out.” Theo sighed as our dad turned to him.
“Theo, there is so much to get done,” Dad chastised.
“We will be fine, Dad,” I assured him. “Mom and I can handle the farm.”
“Of course you can, you will have to, but I’m going to do as much as I can before we go. We won’t get leave until the fall, and that is going to be too late in the season for most of the harvest.”
“I got it, Dad,” Theo said, and begrudgingly left the living room. Unlike with our father, the floors barely creaked under his feet, as if he was using his gift to make his steps as silent as a winter night.
We listened to the front door close.
“Sleeping on the lounge again?” Dad smiled.
“The chaise this time.” I frowned, holding out my book to him.
“You will need a proper night’s sleep going forward. You and your mom will have this whole farm to manage.”
“We will be okay,” I assured him again.