J.R. Knight's Blog

Get it while it’s hot! A day early because I couldn’t wait to share it with you – here is ‘ROYALS!’

Now this is a parallel serial if you will. It’s set in the same world as ‘Hearts,’ and you may run into a familiar character here and there, but I wanted to tell this story separate to the series and give you a tasting of what the Deck of Cards world looks like. So here it is! Le me know what you think and enjoy!

X

01. The City of Secrets

“I find it rather naïve of those who think that their plane is the only one in existence. Such petulance, such small minded thinking. The city exists, in any country or in any place rather, it’s just blanketed. From those who are too narrow in comprehension to ever think it’s exists. That they exist, but they do.”

– Frederick Haus, translated from ‘Secret Cities: London,’ 1934.

Nethul gasped awake. Seconds before reaching consciousness his dream reached it’s climax; his brother’s blackish hands around his neck, his teeth as long as fingers bare and ready to penetrate his flesh.

Sweat covering his forehead, his muscles tensing from the distress of his nightmare he steadied his breathing and glanced down at his feet. Nishan, his older brother, was asleep. Covered by the blankets that Nethul has wrapped him in the night before, it appeared as if he had rested without disturbance or complication. That was good.

Glancing around, Nethul rubbed his fists into his eyes and yawned, and staring back at his brother once more he was comforted by the fact that he wasn’t, indeed, on the verge of tearing through his flesh. A huff escaped him and his face relaxed; it was just make believe.

The small house that they were in was unique in character, and quite unlike any other house Nethul had been in. The owner Henning was out, possibly foraging for some food or canvassing the streets to see if suspicions were rising. Turning on his back and sitting up at the end of the bed, Nethul stared directly into a mirror that hung on the wall in front of him. The mirror had many layers of glass, almost as if the person who crafted it had the ability to transcend dimension and manipulate even the most ordinary of materials. Concentrating, Nethul just saw him however, just him. There was nothing too special about his reflection

He was once a healthy young man, no older than seventeen. Oak skin, warm brown hair and light chestnut eyes were among many of his notable qualities. His cheeks where hollow though, his lips dry. Dark rings from exhaustion and malnourishment encircled his eyes, and he had a look to him, a cowering posture and defeated demeanor that evidenced the toll the last couple of years had on him.

Although the curtains were drawn, morning light escaped under the door and in-between the spaces that the fabric couldn’t cover. Gulping, Nethul put his head in his hands, the memories resurfacing. It would happen every time he woke. Their faces whipped under his eyelids. Their faces before they died, the last breaths they took, his hand wrapped around his that lost life. Her last breath. The tears the welled in her eyes that never managed to slip down her tiny, inflamed cheeks.

He moved his legs out of the sheet and he sat on the edge of the bed. It was surprisingly comfortable considering how makeshift it was, or perhaps it was just the sincere sensation of feeling relief from a nights rest. Henning was used to curling in a large basket, which beside the door. His stare comfortably rested on the door, and both waiting and a comforting uncertainty overcame him.

It was only there second day in the City of Secrets and for once all was calm. They had been fed and shelter had been provided for them and it had given Nethul a chance to tend to his brother, a growing anxiety that he was trying to control.

“It’s just me,” the door nob turned swiftly before Nethul even had a chance to realise what was happening. As quickly as the door opened it was shut again, “don’t fear.”

“Ah, what time is it?” he rustled the hair out of his eyes.

“My bedtime,” he replied, a twinkle to his eyes, “nevertheless, guests do supersede necessity.”

Henning was an elf, a Seelie elf to be exact. He was a foot or two shorter than Nethul, with long wispy limbs and pointed ears that were covering mostly by his wild white blonde hair that reached his shoulders. His chin was sharp; his eyes were boarded with thick long white lashes. Nethul was momentarily taken aback by how compelling he was; the exact colour of his irises were entirely mesmerizing and as they changed all the time.

“I must thank you again,” Nethul stood, held out his hands and took the sack off Henning’s shoulder.

“It’s nothing,” he smiled at him, his hands resting on the sack for a moment before he turned to take off his coat. “I’m afraid I don’t have the best news, yet we’ll get to that in a moment, first we’ll eat.”

Nethul took the sack to the bench. Henning came up behind him and put his hands out.

“No, no, please sit. Sit. You and your brother have been through far too much, it’s nothing really,” he unlatched a buckle, “sugar berries, some mushrooms. I’m rather fond of tree bark, yet I assume as much that you weren’t acquired to the taste.”

Nethul blinked and nodded as the corners of his mouth lifted, “can’t said that I’ve tried it.”

Henning looked back at him and pulled out a cloth bag, “water’s scarce at the moment and I do wish I could wash them.”

“Don’t think on it,” Nethul pulled the chair out for him, “you’re too kind.”

Henning sat and inched in, splaying out the berries and mushrooms that he had spent most of the early hours of the morning finding for them. Taking one he hovered it over his mouth and looked to the bed, “should we wake-”

“Oh no,” Nethul leaned in, “Nishan needs his rest, I’ll save him my share, you should eat as much as you need.”

Henning’s brows lowered, “you know I saved you because I wanted to bring you both to health. I’m fortunate to live the way I do, I can’t say the same for you.”

Nethul rubbed his lips together and a frown deepened on his forehead, “why did you save us Henning? I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

His head turned to the side, as if he has quite a lot of water in his ear that he was trying to get out. Munching, his gazed all over Nethul’s features a moment, “a valid question,” he pressed his fingers against his thumb, “I guess you’re unfamiliar with Elven politics?”

“I can’t say that I’ve every thought of it to be honest,” Nethul picked up a berry and held it in his hand.

“Well I shan’t bore you with the intricacies,” he inhaled and bunched a hand over his shirt and brought it to his nose, “however there are two main types of elves. Seelie, Unseelie. It’s all rather messy, and much more complicated than I’m making it out to be, but Seelie is a good elf,” he raised his hand and smiled, “Unseelie is a bad elf,” his eyebrows pinched together and he brooded.

Nethul could help but smile and crinkles in his face formed. He pondered this a moment, wondering when it was the last time he had smiled – the muscles in his face felt instantly sore from being awakened.

“I am a Seelie elf, yet I was born into an Unseelie court, some 84 years ago,” he stroked his chin.

“Why, you looked no old than I,” Nethul blinked.

“It must all come as a surprise for you,” he nodded, a sheepish smile to his cheeks brewing, “yet in human years, I should be no older than you.”

Nethul ate the berry and savored how sweet it was, allowing to chew and to chew until it practically dissolved in his mouth.

“So when I saw you and your brother, well,” he leaned back, his head shaking, “stranded, on the street, on the verge of life itself ending I found myself being responsible,” he blinked furiously for a moment, “responsible to ensure that you didn’t die.”

Nishan gulped, and closing his eyes he savored all he could of the flavor of the berry. It was the first sweet thing he could remember tasting since it all happened.

“May I ask?” Henning fingers hovered over his lips, “you haven’t any more family?”

“The plague,” Nethul’s shoulders dropped, “my father was the first, my mother. My sister was the last.”

It was as if the air had turned to ice, Nethul shuddered at the memories resurfacing to the forefront. Sniffing, his eyes winced and feeling Henning’s long thin fingers atop his. He looked to the elf and was temporarily soothed.

“I know all about loss,” Henning nodded, “yet yours is fresh, wounds are still tender.”

“The scabs on Nishan’s thighs are beginning to fester,” he cleared his throat – the mood still and intimate between them, “aren’t you worried you’ll contract what we have?”

“The immune systems of humans and elves are very different,” he applied pressure before releasing, “I can’t catch what you have, however I can assure you that the City has noticed your arrival.”

He tried to steady his breath, feeling already the mounting concern rise in his chest, “this city, this place?” he looked to the door, “where exactly are we?”

Henning shifted in his chair and glanced behind him and at the space of light in-between the curtain; turned back he leaned in.

“Since the beginning there has always been a division. A faction if you will, humans who have the ability of complex thought and feelings, and then those who go beyond that. The mythic, the powerful.”

Nethul put his hands on his chest, feeling now the air tighten between himself and Henning, it were as if the elf had cast a spell before them, his eyes were now blue, the colour of an ocean – it was unlike anything Nethul had ever seen before.

“Here a human soul is one the most desired thing,” Henning placed his hands firmly on the table, “the very richness and complexity that a human soul possesses is rare in itself, but it’s how the souls are extracted that makes the powerful even more ultimate.”

“Souls are currency?” Nethul shuddered.

“Yes,” Henning nodded, the waves in his eyes dulling, his bottom lip flaring outward, “it’s a inhumane thing, yet given the occupants of this city,” he glanced away, “those who come are destined too, but that doesn’t mean that they belong.”

Like a match being struck the air was lit and a fire almost burned between them.

“The Sielancer Demon,” Henning whispered, “is bound to this plane, bound to the City of Secrets. An old African native whose seeks out human souls, Unknowns they call them – you. The Sielancer Demon seeks out those who have entered the city and, upon uncovering them, consumes their soul to restore the balance.”

Nethul leaned back in his chair, his chest puffed out. As he cast his eyes downward he couldn’t help but allow defeat to anchor him, it felt like a slab of marble in his stomach. He returned his gaze to Henning’s, whose eyes now were as vibrant and as green leaf in the sun.

“You tried,” he bowed his head to him, “you tried to save us from London, the plague, yet I fear that our destiny wants us to die.”

“You’re safe here,” Henning reached back for his hands.

Nethul glanced at his brother before accepting, tears that he would never allow him to shed welling in his eyes. Lips thin he let out a long breath.

“An elves scent masks a humans,” Henning whispered to him, their hands entwined, “there almost so much so alike that if you stay here and rest and allow me to bring you food you will not be harmed. The Sielancer Demon shall not find you.”

“Yet Nishan?” he grunted, taking his hands back, “I too must be affected, the plague-”

“A solution will come,” Henning’s fingertips danced in the air, his eyes morphing into a sensation of purples and pinks, “it just has too.”

Momentarily taken aback by how breathtaking his eyes were, Nethul calmed himself a moment and took another berry.

“We really were quite lucky to have found you.”

Henning waved a hand at him to put the berry into his mouth, “eat and rest, I think it’s my bedtime now too.”

 

–

 

Nishan woke to the same nightmare some hours later. Nethul’s fangs were at his neck, tearing through the flesh that was there, his eyes were red and bulging and gushing blood poured down his face.

The gasp was loud enough to wake anybody, yet as he wiped the sweat furiously off his face and focused he felt the coldest chill overcome him. He leaned back. His entire body began to shake.

In front of him was a young boy; he would have been no older than seven or eight. He looked like he was entirely taken from a photograph, there was no colour or dimension to him, and he was just shades of white, black and grey.

Feeling the anxiety riddle and overcome him Nethul cowered back into the bed, and quickly glancing to see if Henning was awake he noticed that he the door was wide open.

“P-please,” Nethul whispered out to the boy, “d-don’t tell anyone we are here, I beg you my brother’s sick.”

The boy’s chin raised high and he glanced at Nishan a moment, whose back was turned with sweat covering his face. The boy lifted his finger, pointed at Nishan and said the words so quietly that he could have believed that he was still dreaming:

“She’s coming.”

 

 

 

You can view the Pinterest inspiration board for ‘ROYALS’ here.
The feature tile for ‘ROYALS’ was designed by Vanessa Matijevic, whose Instagram you can check out here.
This chapter of ‘ROYALS’ was self edited – please excuse any typos and spelling/syntax errors!
The next chapter of ‘ROYALS’ is scheduled to be published on Monday the 17th of April. There will be eight parts!
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Surprise post everyone!

Here is the first of my re-write of Pretty Little Liars. Let me know what you think and enjoy!

You can also like, follow and view this on Fanfiction, right here: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12328979...

 

P R O L O G U E

Mist was settling over Rosewood, with the promise of a thunderstorm to soon come. Alison Dilaurentis’ palm traveled over the oak of the barn, a smile spreading on her face. The air was dense with electricity and heavy with the scent of approaching rain. The taste of anticipation was peaking on her tongue; the excitement was clearly evident on her face.

Through the moonlight you could see her, a classic American beauty. Striking, breathtaking, candid. The next-door girl with thick lips, honey colored hair and waterfall eyes that smiled even when she cried. Alison was everything to everyone and although she knew it, she very rarely allowed it to go to her head.

She pulled the door back. A hysterical chorus of shrieks emitted from within.

“Ali!”

“Ali!”

“Alison?”

“Ladies,” she shut the door to the barn, her baby pink tote sliding down her shoulder, “you didn’t think I’d make it?”

“Well, what were we to think Ali?” Mona Vanderwall said. Wide-eyed, her smile covering half her face, she rushed to her side. “You told us you weren’t coming!”

Mona Vanderwall. Determined, gifted and loyal. Rosewood High’s own Einstein. Deep dark hair billowed down her back in long slender curls, high cheekbones framed feminine features and knowing hazelnut eyes. Everyone knew Mona, knew her because she was, undeniably, Alison’s best friend.

“Surprises are the best,” Alison licked her lips, her free hand digging into her bag to reveal a dark green corked bottled, “champagne?”

“The occasion?” Hanna Marin asked, eyes brows playfully high.

“Does their need to be one?” Alison squeaked at seeing her, handing the bottle to Mona.

She rushed to Hanna’s side, her heels dragging along the renovated carpet.

Hanna Marin. Chic, reserved, a puzzle. Deathly thin, a thousand-dollar blonde bombshell haircut, a hundred thousand dollar City of Angles veneers. Hanna was famous for her fashion, yet notorious for how often she, as of late, needed to get her clothes taken in. Ali winced, looking to the other girls around her as they hugged, mouthing to them: “has she eaten?”

“Hanna,” Alison took her hand after they embraced, squeezing, “when was the last time you had something solid?”

Hanna glanced away from her awkwardly, her eyelash extensions fluttering as she sighed, “I’m eating, Ali.”

“I promise you,” Emily Fields stood, “Mom made Hanna a three course meal tonight, which she ate two courses off.”

“I’m allergic to blueberries,” Emily rolled her eyes innocently.

“Em,” Alison inhaled, her attention adverting, “a week is far too long.”

Emily Fields. Lean, tall, athletic. Caramel skin, copper eyes, a smile that could fill Rosewood Stadium. Alison pulled her in, the faint smell of her chlorine; mixed in with the sandalwood body cream she always used a comfort to her. Emily was the constant amongst the chaos, the calming cup of tea against a sea of thirsty, caffeine-deprived businessmen.

“I missed you,” Emily whispered in her ear.

Mona held the champagne tightly, her neck stiffening.

“Break it up ladies,” Spencer Hastings said, tapping on Alison’s shoulder, “come here!”

Spencer Hastings. Talented, obsessive and self-damaging. Rosewood High’s biggest over-achiever. Glasses covered her winter green eyes, flushed cheeks, sleek cinnamon coloured hair tied up messily into a ponytail. Spencer, when not studying for extra credit or competing competitively in tennis or piano, could be seen trying to take micro nap in between classes.

“Thanks for having me, Spence.”

“Always, even if I don’t even know your coming,” Spencer said with a yawn as she slid her glasses up her nose.

“Leaving last, but not last,” Alison set her eyes on, “Aria.”

Aria Montgomery. Eccentric, cultured, kind. Her hair, deep and dark at the roots, was dyed a violet-ish grey and cut bluntly at her collarbone. Dark purple lips revealed a stunning smile, her heavy lidded eyes closed as she came to hug her. Alison smelt the incense and spice of chai and vanilla on her. Aria’s Mom owned the local café-come-art gallery The Brew in downtown Rosewood. Her cheeks lifted at the thought of one of Ella’s famous cups of coconut chai.

“I didn’t think we’d see you until after Labor Day?”

“I convinced Mom to come home early,” Alison turned around, her eyes settling on each of them, “ah, my girls.”

As they stared back at her, for a moment time slowed. A painful tug, like acid sinking into the pit of her stomach, overcame Alison, and as thunder rolled above them and a snap of lightening lit up the windows, a frown unraveled along her forehead.

The moment was quick. Not enough for any one to notice. As the room was lit up in pale the pale white hue, Ali allowed a smile, weather it was genuine or not, to fill her face.

“Can you go fetch us some glasses?” Mona sat back down, holding up the bottle of champagne at Spencer, patting the chair beside her to Alison.

“Yeah sure, Mom and Dad are out for the weekend,” Spencer got up, “Oli’s at a friends, so we’re totally covered.”

“Perfect,” Ali sat beside Mona, “so girls, tell me everything.”

Before too long the barn was filled with much needed conversation. Everyone had champagne in their glasses, bar Spencer who decided on a mug of coffee.

“To junior year!” Alison held up her glasses, the others following suit.

As they drank, and glass and porcelain chinked, Spencer’s knee, that was jittering wildly, banged against the coffee table.

“Spencer, this is literally your third cup since I got here,” Hanna set down her glass, “look, you’re totally wired!”

“Am not!” Spencer held the mug to her chest defensively, the motion in her knee subsiding.

“Don’t you know she took up captain of the debating team this year too?” Aria leaned in.

“And school captain?” Mona put a hand to her throat, clearing it, “and captain of the chest team?”

“And piano, and tennis,” Spencer nodded.

“Girl, we’ve gotta admit you to Radley,” Hanna allowed a laugh to come out of her perfectly glossed lips, “you’re crazy.”

Everyone laughed at the joke. Bar Alison.

“Don’t Hanna,” Alison said softly, looking down, “Radley isn’t a place to joke about.”

A silence, almost haunting, overcame the barn. After a few moments the brooding sounds of thunder, accompanied with the fierce howl of wind broke the tension.

“Sorry to kill the mood,” Alison glanced sideways, “Anyways, so Em, I heard your Mom’s pregnant?”

Emily puled a strand of hair back, her eyes flared and unblinking, “n-no?”

“Oh,” Alison’s bottom lip quivered, before she rubbed it against her top one, her eyebrows slanting, “I-I’m sorry, your Mom told my Mom, and I-”

“It’s fine Ali,” Emily stared in the void vacantly for a moment, tossed back the rest of her champagne and then put a hand on Alison’s knee, “really, Mom thought she was, but she wasn’t.”

“Are you sure Em?” Mona asked on the other side of Alison, “because my Mom heard-”

“I’m sure Mona,” Emily nodded quickly, “I’m definitely sure.”

“Well,” Alison put her hand on top of Emily’s, “I’m sorry regardless.”

“I should feed Toby guys,” Spencer said, her weight shifting in her seat, “poor puppy must be starving.”

Aria rolled her eyes, her black fingertips hovering over her mouth, “you have an unhealthy obsession with that dog, Spence, and he’s barely a puppy anymore. He’s eight.”

“We’re in love,” Spencer held her coffee mug in the air as if it were a trophy, her cheeks flushing, “I can’t help it if he’s the only man in my life right now.”

They laughed, Aria’s face looking down at her phone as it buzzed.

“All good?”

“Yeah,” she swiped the message away, “just Mom.”

Aria waited for a moment, as conversation slid into something else, before looking up. Alison was looking at her, her expression knowing, her eyes softly fixed on hers. Turning her head to the side, her indigo eyes darkened just a little.

“Well girls, I don’t know about you,” Alison held up the bottle, beginning to tip it into each other their glasses, “but now that tenth grade is over, and summer’s over, I’m just wondering where time goes?”

“So philosophical,” Mona grinned, “so unlike you, Ali.”

“Hey,” her eyes tensed at Mona, her tongue sticking out between her tongue, “if only we were immortal, my darlings.”

Thunder snapped them away from their moment. Alison jumped, bubbles of champagne fizzing over the coffee table between them all.

“Immortal?” Emily lifted the glass to her lips, “now, why wouldn’t we want that?”

“Well,” Alison swallowed, thinking, “I guess,” her fingertips danced along her chin, “if you could live forever you would forget to live in the moment, so,” she shook her shoulders, her curls falling behind her back, “let’s live in the moment now.”

She raised her glass and looked at them. Emily, Mona, Hanna, Aria and Spencer.

“To us.”

They looked back at her.

“To us!”

It was early in the morning. A buzz jolted her out of her sleep, her phone screen in front of her indicating that it was 3:04am.

The moment she saw who the message was from her insides churned. It wasn’t from the champagne; she had barely had two glasses. It was from the sender. She had saved it in her phone as how they addressed them self. Originally it was ‘Unknown,’ and now…

The text message read:

“I’m outside.

– A.”

I’m really struggling here. I’ve been refreshing my inbox since Friday. I’m such an impatient person.

Going on this journey means really committing to the belief that you have in yourself, that against all odds assuring yourself that things will happen for you, that they are meant to happen for you, and with enough time and belief they will.

Confused? I’ll catch you up!

After having the privilege of flying to Sydney and meeting with publishers and editors a couple of weeks ago, one particular publisher from Hachette Australia was intrigued by the idea of Hearts and asked for the first 50 pages of my manuscript. I sent that off on Friday. Now, I’m waiting. Playing the waiting game.

Publishers are so incredibly busy. Being the backbone of their business, I’m 100% certain that their lives are spread very thin. Given that I was able to email my manuscript directly to this publisher, well, words can’t even justify how much of an accomplishment I feel. Regardless of the outcome, I’m quite chuffed with myself. That I was able to walk into a room where, against everyone else, I was the youngest in the room, and pitch my concept.

Yet, no matter what happens, I have to remain instilled with the mentality that although life maybe uncertain at the moment, things will happen. Things have happened (and) there’s so much more to happen!

I’m so thankful for the people who have supported me this year! You are supporting me so much for just clicking on my website and getting to the end of this lil’ post! Thank you so much.

I’m in such a limbo/funk right now – but, after this post I’m getting straight back into going over Hearts to send to my editors at the start of next year. I’m not certain where 2017 is going to take me, but I’m sure I know it’ll be one crazy ride!

X

Hello one, hello all!

It’s been WAY to long since I posted on my website, so today I’m hitting you with some cold hard facts that you may (or may not know) about my debut novella ‘The Cure!’

U-mans don’t have sex.

Yes, that’s right folks. Everything is scheduled in Metravā. It’s all “brrr” cold, clinical and icy. In order to have a child, coupled U-mans must submit intense paperwork via U-file and get approved. Once they have the green light from Peār, of course, DNA is extracted from the male (a very simple invasive procedure) and placed inside the female. Then, eight months and three weeks later, BOOM a baby U-man is born!

There were two endings to the novella.

Gasp shock horror. I wrote two endings, one which got published, the other which is locked in a vault.

* Okay so not really, but you know, it adds to the imagery.

The one that was published was ultimately the one that I felt best suited the world and respected the story line and those who were to read it, but who knows… maybe one day I’ll just publish it for y’all to read, just for fun.

Suūni is actually Siri.

If you go back and check, Suūni’s birthday is actually the same are Apple’s Siri. In fact, they’re meant to be the same person, they have a similar name and, (if Siri actually had a last name,) a similar last name. So therefore that makes it that, yep, Suūni’s Dad, the head of Peār, is actually Steve Jobs. Check it over and I’m sure it will make a bit more sense ;).

Knijä’s Mum was going to be a villain.

In initial concept planning, I was going to have a large complication be that Knijä’s Mum turn in Knijä to Peār. I wanted to play upon the idea of her Mum having larger concerns for her family, be that in that she’s a selfish person. I wanted her to have anxiety over spawning something so different to her, and channel that into exposing Knijä. Ultimately the story arc would have taken up way too much of the book, eating in page allowance, so I cut that!

Elite’s are actually like Sims.

I wanted there to be socialites in ‘The Cure.’ A city abundant with extravagant U-mans who spend their time burning a whole in their virtual wallet. The concept came very much from ‘The Sims,’ a sandbox virtual reality game. Elites can have endless procedures done to their body, they have a supply of endless amounts of content to download onto their hair and face, and their lives are as shallow and as vacuous as you could image. Gotta love them!

I also love the idea of Metravā, this is were magic happens (just only if it’s pre-encoded into your U-chip that is!).

ALSO: Find out your Metraviān name!

Take the first three letters of your last name and the first two letters of your first.

Knight: KNI

Jacob: JA

KNIJA!

Add in a cool little symbol, here or there, and you have it!

The Cure is out now!

Grab your copy by clicking the Shop section on my website, and uncover the secrets of the future, todaāy!

X

Well hello there everyone!

It’s been a while since I’ve posted here on my blog, and today I found myself having the time this afternoon to have a cup of coffee and catch you all up on what’s going on, how I’m feeling, and what’s going on after the launch of my debut novella The Cure! (Argh!)

So much to tell you!

– The launch was incredible. Full stop. End of. Thank you SO much to everyone who came, it was just perfection. The day went by so quickly, from waking up and cooking everyone breakfast, to practising my speech and chapter reading in my bedroom by myself whilst everyone was getting ready. Before I knew it we were driving to the venue, setting everything up and then… bam! People were arriving, the lights dimmed, and the whole night was just a wild ride! I’ll be posting up official photos from the night, along with a proper blog on the night sometime soon.

* A special mention to Kushal for everything, and to Kayla for everything else. Dedications and more thanks to come soon!

– The Cure is out there in the big wide world! Reviews are coming in and people have been reading my book! Oh my gosh? I had the pleasure of hosting a Q&A and ideas are just brewing in my mind! As it is my first work, I am still so proud and very happy with what I put out there in the world. My first work wouldn’t be anything if it weren’t for room for improvement, so thank you to everyone with your constructive feedback and for taking the time to actually read what I’ve put out there and for giving it meaning.

– I’m currently taking a bit of a break right now, which is hard for me! As I’m usually so used to being on the go, taking this time to soak in the bliss that is ‘free time’ has been a bit of a struggle, but I’m loving it! I am working and planning on spending more time than ever promoting The Cure and getting it out there. Today I went to my old school, and got a chance to meet my old principle and teachers, it was quite weird been introduced to them as an author I must say!

– Having this book out there has enabled me to meet some incredible people and build some amazing connections! I’m very blessed, through The Cure, to have the beginnings of some amazing writer friends, who I hopefully will have the chance to catch up with and do writing sessions with in the near future.

~ UPCOMING PROJECTS ~

– After my break all of this month, I will be working on Hearts for all of October. I’ll be handing in the final ‘section’ of this manuscript to my editors and begin working on polishing all of that up next year, readying the manuscript for representation.

– Aside from working on Hearts next month, I’ll be going full force with promoting The Cure, working on an extended edition, setting up some collaborations and working on it getting stocked into some independent bookstores in Melbourne!

– In November of this year I’ll be participating in NanoWiMo, and for this I will be producing a 50 thousand word manuscript. I intend to write a Moral/Phycological Thriller titled ‘Her’. I also plan on catching up with some writer friends, attending writer events and getting my name out there as an emerging author!

– I plan on doing a weekly cereal on my blog next year that will be all decided by you. Anyone and everyone will have input on the genre, the content, the story line, and I will doing live Q&A’s/brainstorms and having more of an interactive experience with those who are a fan of my work!

– I am intending on starting up a channel dedicated to the process that went into publishing The Cure, I briefly started that out earlier this year, but by gosh it’s hard.

– So, so, so much exciting stuff! But yes, that’s what I have so far!

I think I’ll leave it there! Haha!

If you reached the end of this blog post then thank you! And if you haven’t grabbed your own copy of my debut novella, simply click on ‘Shop’ and order yours today!

Until next time!

X

Well, how did I get here?

I just can’t believe it’s almost just under a week to go until I launch the first ever book that I’ve ever written. Whaaaaat?!

I’m honestly in a state of … I don’t know even how to describe it! (I know I should be able to, given my profession) but…!

I’ve dreamed about this day for a very long time, and right now I’m kinda mind blown that I’ve actually been able to do it. I’m so appreciative of everyone around me who has supported this project, big or small, and I’m just itching for the book launch! I can’t believe that I’m (I’m!) having a book launch, and a physical book that is about to be out there in the world was written by me!

Any who, I just wanted to let you all know that The Cure isn’t very far away, and very soon you can #GETCURED and have your very own copy in your hot little hands!

I’ve got a lot of work to do until the 15th of August, and so sorry for the quietness of this blog. I’ll be back very soon with (hopefully) some fresh content, and some exciting projects to update you on!

Stay tuned!

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Well, where has the time gone? It just seems like yesterday that I started typing the first chapter to The Cure, and now it’s weeks away from being published! It’s safe to say that this journey has been one of the most incredible experiences of my life, it’s like I’m on a rollercoaster, and we’re approaching the tops of a high peak and its about to drop. Life is about to get crazy!

You can now read the first 15 chapters to The Cure now, right here on my my website! Hover of ‘The Cure’ in the menu, and then hover over ‘Read’ to binge read each chapter. The complete novella, with all 20 chapters, will be published on Monday the 15th of August. It will be purchasable from my website (right here!). It will be $20.00 including shipping in Australia, and $24.00 including shipping for world wide. The complete novella will include a foreword, the welcome package, all full 20 chapters and illustrations, a translation and pronunciation guide, and a sneak peak at my ongoing major project!

Again, thank you to everyone who has visited my website, and thank you to everyone who has supported me and my journey, I can’t wait for us all to #GETCURED and for you all to read The Cure!

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|15|

METRAVĀ CITY

| EXTRACTED FROM SÅVJE SINGKŪ /

OPEN AIRWAY OF 45SUB / 2.3.3450 / 7:43āam |

We are making good time, but then again, time is now confusing. I press my U-chip to give meē the official Peār Approved time and even though it says 7:43āam, the sky certainly does not reflect that time of daāy.

“They must have been startled by our technology,” I say to a colleague who sits beside meē. “When Knijä’s faulty U-chip connected with the Peār Protocol’s, the Nerve Centre must have malfunctioned.”

“I would assume so. It did work in our favour though. The Peār Protocols could barely see anything in the sudden darkness.”

I nod at the assumption. The mood is quiet. It feels like the aftermath of a brutal war, though I suppose it was not far from it. There were 49 TAODAP casualties, their blū blood smeared against the walls of the Tāu’s multīspace, their bodies no doubt collected by Peār already. Despite this tragedy, the operation was still a success. Peār is now aware of our agenda and it will all be over soon.

Knijä lies beside meē. From research, I know that when humans sleep they like to have their bodies covered. A blanket, they call it, and even though it is odd, we have put a throw of white coats over the top of her, thinking she might find comfort in them.

“It is so unusual,” a colleague comments, “to see someone with their eyes closed. I wonder how it feels?”

“Limitless, I would imagine.” I think on this further. “Apparently sleep is the one place where the braāin unleashes all restraint. Would that not be nice?”

My colleague concurs with a brief hum. Knijä stirs, her eyes flutter open and she sits up.

“I fell asleep?” she questions, curling her fists into little balls and rubbing her eyes, a practice that I find most fascinating.

“From exhaustion,” I tell her. “The chaos was too much for you, especially now that you no longer have your U-chip connected.”

Knijä looks down at herself. Her Synthetī cap of blonde hair came off during the fray, the creams that had been applied meticulously to her body are now patched in places and the prosthetics on her palms and fingertips have either loosened or fallen off. She still looks at meē with her ‘perfect’ blū eyes, but they are raw and puffy from having been closed with the contacts still intact. From exhaustion and stress too, I imagine.

“I have so many feelings,” she says, removing the coats we have placed over her. “I don’t know what’s going on.”

“Emotions,” I label. “Sophisticated processing that U-mans are not able to handle.”

“Mūm? Dād? Hoslū?” It is as if her braāin has finally remembered what has happened.

“Are safe,” I reply quickly. “We could not have them travel with you because you are now considered dangerous to Peār. Peār will terminate anyone who is associated with you.”

“Where are they, though?”

“They have been transported to our base camp. It’s the safest place in all of Metravā, I can assure you. Not even Peār’s Nerve Centre has our level of protection.”

I can see the pain in her face, something that I know all too well from my own experience. I stand up and manoeuvre myself so that I am sitting in front of her.

“All of us only have our U-chips synced to our base camp now,” I tell her, knowing that she would want to hear of and see her family. “Your family will arrive there shortly and then you can be reunited.”

“Peār will know where we are otherwise.” She understands and looks out into the darkness before noticing the glowing lights of the city approaching.

“Something’s happened to the sky?”

“Yes.” I look outside, truly wondering what in Metravā has happened. “We do not know what exactly, but it seems that your faulty U-chip may have fractured their system.” I then focus my gaze on the approaching skyline. “It appears, however, that Metravā will soon have saānlight.”

“Where are we exactly?”

“We have just passed into 34Sub’s air space.”

“What was its intention?” she asks, exasperated. “My faulty U-chip. What did it do?”

“Something that we have been working on for decades. It is a combination of physics mixed with biogenetics and discreet science.” Her eyes widen. “We combined magnetic light with an aggressive anti-cell which is meant to reverse the physical effect of the U-chip.”

She remains stunned for a moment and then she nods. “It is in this process that you were also protected from harm, at least temporarily.”

“So many people sacrificed their life for this.” Her eyes begin to fill with Waterlite. “I have never seen someone cease in front of meē.”

“I know,” I say, attempting to comfort her, yet I feel that I am not doing it quite right. “We are always scheduled to cease but no one is ever meant to cease right in front of you. I am sorry that you had to witness that.”

“It’s not your fault,” Knijä says, trying her hardest to process everything at once. “I just don’t know what’s happening to meē.”

“Your emotions have gone haywire. Do not worry, this is normal for you. You have been through a lot. It is something you—something we—will learn. Together.”

“What do you mean we?”

There is a moment of stillness – the constant hum of the Helīcopter, the silence from my colleagues. It is time to reveal our plan and everything that we are working towards. I see large patches of sky textures lighting up in the near-distance.

“We are heading to Metravā,” I inform her, the city’s skyline coming into full view. “We are going to the Nerve Centre of Peār and we are going to overthrow them while they are weak.”

Knijä glances at the skyline and gasps. She sits up in her seat, understanding the seriousness of what I have just said. “How?” She tenses.

“You,” I explain just as the saān begins to burst through. “You will be the one to overthrow Peār, Knijä.”

“Meē?” Her eyes fill with a foreign emotion that I am only vaguely aware of. Uncertainty? I wonder. “I’m supposed to do all of this?”

“Yes.” I sense her genuine surprise. “It was always meant to be this way from the moment I fused you.”

“But why?” she shrugs. She shakes her head furiously. “Why are you only doing this now if all you needed was someone like meē?” I see the exasperation all over her face. Her mouth gapes open, her forehead creases.

“Well, years and years have been spent on this, U-man lifetimes.” I hold my hands out, and I wish I could transfer the right answers in all the right words to her. “A rebellion does not happen overnīght. We only fused one. We only fused you and we only need you. We needed you to be raised, Knijä, so we could study you, so we could assure ourselves that you are exactly what we are meant to be: without the U-chip.”

“So this is why nobody has attempted to do this before? I’m the first?”

“The first in the history of Metravā.” I study her and it is as if I know what is pulsing through her mind. “I know you may be wondering why you are the person to do this if that is all it takes?”

“Yes. But I’m also beginning to understand why I always felt alone. Apparently I was just your experiment.”

“No, Knijä! You are more than that. You were chosen, fated, to be the beginning of the rebellion. We know that we are all meant to be like you and, because of this, they now want to meet you.”

“They?” the word escapes her in a huff. “Who has done all of this?”

“Agent 00,” I tell her. “We are travelling so you can meet them now.”

She sits back in her chair, her eyes wide, her chin lifted. “So you falsely fused meē, studied what I am and raised meē to this point to meet meē and to tell meē that I’m meant to end our existence as we know it by meeting the person who is behind all this?”

“I know it is impossible to ask you to understand, but yes.”

I am unclear if Knijä’s questioning has ended or if she is just stunned by my answer.

“You will meet with Agent 00 in the Nerve Centre.” I take her hands, she accepts, and I hold them tightly. “You will then tap into Peār’s mainframe and remove the U-chip’s hold on all of us. This will be the real cure that will return us to who we are supposed to be.”

“It’s irrational to think that I should accept all of this.” Her eyes continue to leak Waterlite. Reluctance and frustration emits from her. “But it seems I have no choice.”

We are both watching the scenery, Metravā City approaching, and I say to her, honest and hushed, “We all have a choice, Knijä. It just all depends on what you choose next.”

There is a moment of clarifying silence. Saānlight washes over both of us and we bathe in its glory.

Knijä then presses her lips together, the liquid from her eyes smearing her lips. After blinking from the blinding light, she closes her eyes and, as a shiver runs down her spine, she nods.

Everything is about to change.

The Cure will be published in full on Monday the 15th of August.
The Cure is written by J. R Knight, illustrated by Paul Ikin and edited by Kayla Marie Murphy.
All 15 instalments of The Cure have been published on The Knight Life. Begin reading by hovering over ‘The Cure’ and then the ‘Read’ tab via the main menu.
Please show your support by sharing The Cure and subscribing to The Knight Life. Enter in your email via the right hand side for desktop users, scroll down for mobile/table users.

|14|

CHAOS AND CALM

| EXTRACTED FROM KNIJÄ TĀU /

HOME LOT 2807 OF 81SUB / 2.3.3450 / 6:15āam |

Our multīspace and everyone within it are completely paralysed. The saānlight has vanished as if someone has turned it off or reprogrammed its rise. Every single U-man that I can see is permanently frozen by the light that is being emitted from my faulty U-chip.

I gasp, noticing the people who are frozen change before my eyes. They are changing from U-man into something more like meē. I am only able to catch brief glimpses of what they look like before everything is drowned out by the sound of a Helīcopter looming above us. I have only heard the sound of a Helīcopter once before – when the head Peār Official flew past our sub on his way back to Metravā. Before that, I had only learned about them through a U-vid in edūcation.

Then, for every one Peār Protocol, ten TAODAP Officials pour in. I assume that they are TAODAP Officials due to them all wearing the same white lab coat as Dr. Singkū and her associates. Each TAODAP Official races towards either Mūm, Dād, Hoslū or myself, moving us away and out of the chaos.

As if I am only an object, a TAODAP Official lifts meē up and another ten surround meē. I hear movement outside. Several fresh and unaffected Peār Protocols burst into the room and the loudest ping that I have ever heard rings throughout the room. I notice several tiny little metal-like objects flying around the room, being fired sporadically from weapons that Peār Protocols are carrying. Nitrobullets. I’ve never seen one of their weapons used before.

It appears that anyone affected by my faulty U-chip is immune to the Nitrobullets. Several doctors fall and I gasp at the sight of the blū liquid that splutters out of their bodies and splatters all over our walls.

The sound of the Helīcopter increases, the vibrations making meē feel as if our home lot roof is going to be ripped off. As I’m thinking this, several U-mans fall to the floor as the top of our roof comes clean off and, against the backdrop of pure darkness, I hear quick movements and loud voices.

I’m being lifted out of the multīspace and outside as the Helīcopter swerves around to the front of the house. Shouts, screams and weapons fire as more TAODAP Officials swarm around meē at the arrival of even more Peār Protocols.

“WARNING!” a booming voice fills the air. “THERE HAS BEEN A SEVERE CONFORMITY BREECH WITHIN YOUR FAMILY AND HOME LOT. PEĀR PROTOCOLS ARE ON SITE TO CEASE ANY INDIVIDUAL INVOLVED. STAND DOWN.”

I’m lifted into the Helīcopter that’s now hovering directly in front of my house, the blū light still connected to meē, and everyone else that was in the room when I first placed my fingertip to the faulty U-chip. I watch as Mūm, Dād and Hoslū are motioned towards a second TAODAP Helīcopter directly behind our home lot, this going unnoticed amid all the chaos.

Red and blū lights flash as the warning announcement grows louder. Alarms penetrate my ears and sirens swell through the communal lane as the looming sound of multiple Peār MegaHeli’s approach. As people pull meē further inside TAODAP’s Helīcopter, and the glass door closes in front of meē, I look out to the front of our home lot. If I squint hard enough and remove all of the destruction around meē, it almost looks calm.

“Go! Go! Go!” I hear Dr. Singkū scream out. “Go now!”

The Helīcopter hovers straight up, veers left and then zooms fast as the blū light dims from my U-chip and I fall into Dr. Singkū’s arms.

The last thing I remember seeing before my eyes close is the image of the front door to my home lot.

The Cure will be published in full on Monday the 15th of August.
The Cure is written by J. R Knight, illustrated by Paul Ikin and edited by Kayla Marie Murphy.
The first 15 instalments of The Cure will be published week by week on The Knight Life. The next instalment will continue this coming Monday.
Please show your support by sharing The Cure and subscribing to The Knight Life. Enter in your email via the right hand side for desktop users, scroll down for mobile/table users.

|13|

THE FAULTY U-CHIP

| EXTRACTED FROM KNIJÄ TĀU /

HOME LOT 2807 OF 81SUB / 2.3.3450 / 5:58āam |

I sit in front of Dr. Singkū, inside TAODAP’s Navīgator, with members of TAODAP sitting behind meē. Before long, the Navīgator’s notify announces that we have arrived.

“If I may ask, what are you thinking, Knijä?”

I search inside myself earnestly for the answer.

“Well,” my eyes flitter around for a moment, “it’s difficult to remove 16 years of endless questions in mere moments. I don’t even know where to begin.” I shake my head. “To think that this was done randomly.”

“It is a lot to process,” the doctor soothes.

“It is,” I say, firm and clear. “I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t ask for any of this. I could have had a normal life.”

“But Knijä,” she whispers, her face clouding, “knowing who you are, and thinking of the things that you can do, would you honestly want something other than that?”

I open my mouth to speak, but the words don’t come out. My shoulders sag. I know the answer. “No.”

“Then trust meē.” There is a plea in her voice that begins to dissolve my frustration. “Trust meē and believe that everything will change for the better.”

I sit calmly and quietly for a moment. Is this the daāy that I’ve been waiting for since I was fused?

“Okay. I trust you.”

“Then hold out your U-chip.” The doctor extends out her palm and I place my left hand out to her.

“I half-fused your U-chip.” She gets out a small box and presses her own U-chip to it. The box clicks and snaps open. “Your U-chip works practically like everyone else’s. It does everything that any other U-man’s does, except your U-chip does not automatically sync to Peār.” She takes out a set of Medīc Pliers and places the instrument over my inner wrist. “If a Peār Official were to find out you exist, they could easily sync your U-chip to their Nerve Centre and therefore,” she removes the U-chip completely from my wrist, “control you.”

I stare down at what she’s done. She hadn’t even turned off my U-chip before she removed it. I gasp at the instant moment of clarity that spills through meē like the morning rays of saānlight that are streaming through the Navīgator’s windows.

“My apologies,” she says, before dropping my old U-chip into the small box and taking out a new U-chip using the pliers from the same box. “This new U-chip is completely faulty. It is not wired to any technology, it does not contain any currencī, tabs, U-media or U-mail—”

“It’s a decoy. It’s useless?”

“Not entirely,” she says with a little smirk. “Now, all you have to do is walk inside your home lot and press your new U-chip the moment conflict arises.”

“Why would conflict arise?”

“You will not notice it at first,” I see her mood adjust with the uncertainty that I’m now emitting as she looks out of the Navīgator. “But Peār has already infiltrated your house. Inside, your maāther, faāther and your friend Hoslū have been taken hostage. They are now under Peār’s control.”

“What?” I cry out, putting my hands against the windows. “Peār is controlling them?”

“Yes.” Dr. Singkū takes a long breath. “But all you need to do is press your faulty U-chip with a fingertip and everything will be okay.”

“What will happen afterwards?”

“We have been planning this exact event for 16 years,” she tells meē. She appears confident and strong, in contrast to my anxiousness. “There is not a scenario that we have not thought of. Peār thinks that they will have you in the palm of their hand, but we know who will have the true power.”

“TAODAP,” I agree as she commands the Navīgator with her U-chip to slide the door open.

“Just step inside the house, and the moment anything out of the ordinary happens put a fingertip to your U-chip.”

“I understand.” I move towards the entrance of the Navīgator and look around at the faces of those I’ve just met. “Thankthankyou.”

“No, Knijä,” Dr. Singkū smiles, her colleagues smiling also, “thankthankyou.”

 

–

| EXTRACTED FROM KNIJÄ TĀU /

HOME LOT 2807 OF 81SUB / 2.3.3450 / 6:09āam |

I don’t notice anything out of the ordinary as I’m walking towards my home lot. Not a Synthetī plant or surface texture is out of place, the sky is fully lit and each pixel generates a bright light. I open the door and the multīspace is filled with a calming soundtrack. Hoslū sits with her Edū Tab open on her U-chip, and Mūm and Dād are chatting together on the multīseat.

“Knijä!” Mūm waves up to meē and Dād turns around to grin.

“I am so glad you are here,” Hoslū says, an unfamiliar tone to her voice. “I have something super exciting to tell you!”

“Oh, okay,” I say, a little taken aback. Mūm and Dād nod at Hoslū’s words.

“I will tell you in your private space,” Hoslū says. There is a robotic-like quality to her voice, her lips are moving, audio is streaming out, but there is no belief, no value to what she’s saying.

“That’s okay, Hoslū, I think we should go to edūcation now.”

“No!” all three of them yell at meē, their voices dangerous and evil, their eyes flashing red like an alarm.

“You will go with Hoslū to your private space, Knijä!” Dād barks at meē viciously.

“Yes, Knijä! Now!” Mūm commands.

It all happens so quickly. The tranquil soundtrack in our multīspace is overpowered by the shattering of glass. The next thing I know, Peār Protocols pour into the room as I see Mūm, Dād and Hoslū’s U-chip’s ping unfamiliarly.

“No! Knijä!” Hoslū screams out as a Peār Protocol takes her by the arms. I now see and hear that she is no longer under their control. She is real again.

“Run, Knijä!” Mūm instructs meē, fear etched into her face. “Run now!”

“We love you, Knijä!” Dād calls out as alarms start to siren. “We will always love you!”

It’s at this point that I see Peār Protocols come towards meē and, with rising concern, I do as Dr. Singkū instructed meē: I put a finger to my faulty U-chip.

Nothing happens. I do it once more. Still nothing. I recall Dr. Singkū’s instructions as everything around meē starts to slow down. I see Mūm cry out as a Peār Protocol takes her by the arms, Dād’s hands out towards her as Hoslū gets dragged away. Why is nothing happening?

Just as I count seven Peār Protocols circling around meē, it clicks. I remove the cap from one of my fingertips and, with my bare fingertip to the U-chip, it reacts to the little intricate swirls that are indented into my real skin.

Hot streams of intense light beam from the faulty U-chip on my wrist and begin connecting to all other U-chips in the room, each electrical light streaming lines across the room like digital branches to a tree. Everything darkens before an unusual light washes over Mūm, Dād, Hoslū and all the Peār Protocols in the room.

I gasp at what I see next.

 

The Cure will be published in full on Monday the 15th of August.
The Cure is written by J. R Knight, illustrated by Paul Ikin and edited by Kayla Marie Murphy.
The first 15 instalments of The Cure will be published week by week on The Knight Life. The next instalment will continue this coming Monday.
Please show your support by sharing The Cure and subscribing to The Knight Life. Enter in your email via the right hand side for desktop users, scroll down for mobile/table users.