Mrs Claire's Blog

“Move just a little bit to the right.” I instruct, panting slightly, then smack Adan lightly on his shoulder when he doesn’t move.

“Don’t hit me.” He is irate, panting more than me. “Let me catch my breath.”

I feel the excitement receding by the second. I groan, “Adan! For the love of God, please stop talking and get moving!”

He pants, trying to balance me on his arms, but in the process slams my head to the wall.

“Ouff!” The breath rushes out of me. My legs slide down his body, the pain diffusing my arousal completely.

“That’s it.” I grimace, gingerly touching the back of my head, the spot which was throbbing slightly. “I get only a thirty minutes break, and you just wasted my time!” I glare at him.

If anything, Adan looks more irritated than me. “It’s your damn fault. Why do we have to try these exotic positions? Why can’t we ever have sex like normal people?”

Putting my hand on the wall for purchase, I slowly get up. “Doing it against the wall isn’t exotic. It’s pretty standard.”

“No, it’s not.” He retorts, covering himself in the fold of dhoti. “You are weird.”

I lean forward to kiss Adan on the lips. “You love my weirdness, don’t you, love?”

“You know I do.” He kisses me back, it’s full of unfulfilled desire. “I’ll see you at night?”

Putting distance between our bodies, I pout, “Possibly not. I have watch duty till midnight.”

“After midnight then?” His voice turned seductive. Pity, it didn’t really work on me.

“I’ll be too tired by then. I need my beauty sleep.” I make my escape by hurrying down the long hallway before Adan could say anything else in the hope of pursuing me.

I trail a gentle finger along the trellis hosting the purple ivy which runs along the long corridor. It was one of the few beautiful things still left in the city of Skazokh. Once the capital of Nyarasar, famous for its architectural marvels, now reduced to smoke filled rubble. Only the King’s Palace and fortress along with a few other government buildings remain unscathed. The other buildings of the wealthy, which were marvels in themselves, have suffered some form of casualty.

Pausing by one of the crenels, I look outside.

My eyes meet the unyielding dark ash colored mountains that extend on either side of the castle. This castle which is more built more like a fortress is named Fort Sarsen, flanked by the mountain range of Onamna, named after our chief God, Onamui of the Green fields. The sky is blue tinged with orange, the color of impending sunset.

Lowering my eyes, I scan the surroundings. In contrast to the sky above the mountain range, the city below lies in a smoky haze.

The city itself is almost empty. The citizens were warned six months ago to evacuate and they did so. In droves. I had seen from room the long line of the caravans as people piled their lives in those vehicles and made for the countryside. Some went to the mountains which were just outside the capital, the others farther to the coasts.

The people who were initially resistant to make move, even they had left a few months ago. The stragglers had lost either property or family or friend to finally concede that lives were more important than being resistant to change.

Six months ago, our port city Easniekh fell. After a bitter and long drawn out battle of over one year, the enemy fleet finally crossed the canal and attacked us on our land. I believe they had been toying with us for that one year. For every demand we didn’t meet, for every new trade deal we made with the country of Drohan and the island countries, Alshirin unleashed a volley of fire on Easniekh.

First, it destroyed the port. Luckily Easniekh wasn’t the main port city. When it fell, the traffic was moved to Purtuh, which was a no brainer anyway. Because Easniekh flourished due to our trade with Alshirin, which naturally got suspended when they attacked us.

The port city of Purtuh handles all our trade now, which was all the way to the other side of our country, away from the country of Alshirin.

It should be good news, right?

I walk over to the small cut-out on the fort wall to look at the horizon. The dusk approached, darker than usual because of the purple smoke that permanently hangs in the lower atmosphere now.

The smoke from the mysterious but deadly fire missiles of the Alshirin.

The sky is hazy with the purple death over the farmlands all the way from the outskirts of the Skazokh to the coast. It’s mysterious because the smoke doesn’t kill the crops, no, it affects the people.

The Alshirin always attacked under the cover of the dark. After a few hour of them unleashing their purple fire, the following morning would see the inhabitants all unconscious. They would be unconscious for hours and hours. The ones who’d wake up, had developed a persistent cough. A cough the cure of which is still beyond the knowledge of our healers even after more than two years of the war.

The country of Alshirin didn’t attack the lands, but the farmers and residents instead.

So, although the port city of Purtuh was unaffected, our main trade items of crops and spices which were sought all over the realm has dwindled. Even the mines in the mountains been shut down due to lack of manpower.

The land on the other side of the mountains were mainly forested and not as fertile as the land near the narrow canal that separated us from Alshirin.

The enemy has been crippling us strategically for over an year.

And even with all the riches and the support of the neighbouring countries, Nyarasar has been a sitting duck.

I exit the corridor which runs along the fortress wall and step on the courtyard. And get stopped by Naas.

Naas has been leaning against the wall, chewing a hunk of cheese, looking for all the world that he had no care. He stands up straight when he sees me, moving to block my path.

“Here’s my little sister, the great disciple of The Divine Sex.”

I narrow my eyes at my big brother, older than me by only three years, but liked to act as if he is my father, the King Nareswar.

“What would you know about The Divine Sex? Have you ever read a book?”

He rolls his eyes. “You aren’t the only one who thinks she is great at sex… what the hell!” Naas bits out, “I am not talking about my sex life with my little sister. Speaking of which, what you did back there…”

I raise a hand to stop him, “Naas, like you said, I’m not going to talk about this with you.”

I start walking down the wide rectangle courtyard surrounded by those long corridors on all sides. To my annoyance, Naas starts following me.

“Adan is not suitable for you.”

“Why not?”

“Because he is…”

“Because he is just a lowly soldier and I’m a princess?”

“Among other things, yes.”

We reach the staircase leading down to the ground floor. “And what are those other things, pray tell?”

Naas catches hold of my arm before I can put my foot on the first step. “Nya.” He calls by his pet name for me. “You are a princess. You are unwed. You cannot go… frolicking around.” A retort is ready on my lips but his serious expression stops me.

“I know this war has changed everything. Changed all of us. But still, you cannot go around making out in open corridors where anyone could see you.”

I shake my head. “There isn’t really any privacy in a fortress, brother.”

“Nya…”

“Naas, please tell me you aren’t going to give me that bullshit about women being a virgin before marriage when I know the number of girls you have deflowered. My friends, a few of them.”

There was no shame on his face as I hoped. Instead he grabbed onto my words with renewed vigour. “Precisely. Even a couple of year ago, you smacked the prince of Balya when he dared to touch your hair, and then gave him a lecture about the importance of a woman’s purity. The prince was almost in tears!”

A smile creeps onto my lips as I think of that prince. He was a mere boy, in his early twenties. He indeed had apologised multiple times after I told him off.

But that was a different time.

“I… I have changed, Naas. You cannot blame me for that.”

My brother’s eyes softened. “I know Nya. I don’t blame you to find a kernel of happiness in this shit show that has been going on. All I ask you is, be discreet.”

I look into his eyes to see the sincerity swirling around in those same hazel eyes as mine. So, I gave a tight nod and started down the steep stairs.

Naas called from behind, “And I didn’t do anything to any of your friends they didn’t want.”

I don’t look back but smile. “Cocky!” I mutter under my breath.

Dusk has settled firmly by the time I make it down the main bailey. Turning right, I enter the Great hall, which was occupied mostly by night shift soldiers finishing their dinners. A few nod at my direction. I nod back at them, then go sit beside my father, King Nareswar of Nyarasar.

He lifts his head as I approach him. A smile curves his bearded lips. A happy smile for me, albeit tinged with sadness for the current situation. Being a wartime King is one of the most thankless jobs ever. It weigh son one’s mind and body. And my father didn’t have either age or experience on his side.

I go and sit opposite my father. One might find a King sitting in the barracks along with the soldiers. But not King Nareswar Tyasiron.

To understand why my father is so hands, one has to understand the circumstance in which he became king.

Before we came to live in Skazokh, the capital of Nyarasar, our small family of my parents and I used to live in on the other side of the mountain. We were a small landowner of a small town surrounded by small villages. Picturesque villages where the main cultivation was that of mustard. During season, the farmlands would look like rippling tides of yellow. My brother and I would spend hours in the fields, often losing track of time. Our mother Queen Apala, who wasn’t a queen back then, would come and fetch us and we would go with her most reluctantly.

We grew up in absolute serenity. Before the war started, before the last King died and we were summoned to the capital.

As the only living relative of the last King, my father Nareswar was the heir to the throne of Nyarasar. That was one and half years ago. I still remember the day like it was yesterday.

My father had been elated. As I watched through the keyhole, the  excitement was making him pace in back and forth on the faded carpet of his study, while my mother was sitting in front of the fireplace, with a beseeching look on her face.

“We don’t need this, Nareswar. We do not belong in the capital, in the midst of all the politics. We are happy here. Don’t uproot us!” She had said with a pleading voice.

My father stopped pacing. He gaped at her. “Don’t you want to be a queen?”

My mother had answered almost immediately. “Not like this.”

“Apala!”

“Don’t sound so appalled, Nareswar.” My mother had scoffed, but there was a vein of agitation running through her words. “Why do you think they have called on you? Do you think it’s an honour? To be King at the time of war?”

“Apala!”

“The council wants you on the throne because they expect you to continue this needless war your late uncle started.” She had practically shouted at my father, making him flinch. “I’ll be a queen in name only. And so would you! Can’t you see?”

That beseeching tone was back in her voice, the hope that her husband would heed her words overwhelming the fear.

But my father hadn’t.

He had hunkered down in front of his wife, taking her hands in his.

“Calling the war needless is tantamount to heresy, but I cannot deny the truth.” He had said. “Since it has started, we have lost countless lives, lost out livelihood, lands, morale. When I’m King, I can change all that. Don’t you see, my love?”

My mother had taken one look at his sincere face and buried her face in her hands. The sobs had come quietly, but till audible through the thick wooden door.

“Apala.” My father had called her in a heavy voice laden with uncertainty. “Don’t you have faith in me? I- I can do so much when I’ve the power. Besides, think of our children. Naas is such a bright young man and our daughter. Nyasa is the loveliest girl there ever was. Don’t they deserve the best? Once I end this war…”

My mother had snapped at her husband, so rare an act that I had almost squeaked. Slapping a hand over my mouth, I continued to spy on them.

“This war will never end, Nareswar. You are burying our head in the sand if you think otherwise.”

“I’ve every intention of…”

“Your intentions don’t matter. The Alshirins are brutes, their King unhinged. More than that, they are blood thirsty savages who will never stop.”

A hand had landed on my shoulder making me spin around in alarm. I gave a sigh of relief when I saw who it was.

“Oh, brother.”

“Why are you eavesdropping, little sister?” he had cocked an eyebrow at me. my face had lit up in elation, which it did every time I discovered some secret before he did.

“Father is going to be the next King. And mother would be Queen. We’ll have to go live in Skazokh!”

None of the excitement that was on my face had shone on his. His mouth had turned down and he sucked in a breath. “We’d have to live in the capital?”

I nodded eagerly, wanting him to feel as excited as I.

“But, we are in a war.” He had worried on his lower lip.

“Father said he’d stop the war.”

“How?”

“I don’t know.” I had replied airily, uncaring of such trivial matters, “Maybe he will defeat the Alshirin King.”

He had taken my hand sin his and we started walking away from the study. “They say no one can defeat the Alshirin King. People have tried to kill him, but no one had been able to.”

“Why not?”

“They say he is a magic weilder!” Naas had whispered.

And I laughed out loud. “Magic? King Yana? No one has magic, Naas! I’m not falling for your scare tactics. We are not children anymore.”

“I mean it, Nya.” His expression had been sombre. “In Alshirin, magic still exists.”

“Whatever!” I had scoffed and went about my life, not believing a word of Naas.

After one and half year of being in the forefront of the war, I grudgingly admitted that Naas may have been right.

 

 

Welcome to my first attempt at writing a Romantasy.
Special emphasis on Romance.Because, I might attempt writing a fantasy, at the core of it is always a Romance.Just like in The Molki Bride. If you haven't read it already, read it Here. (shamelessly plugging in one of my best written plots)
A couple of things before we start. This is my first attempt at writing a fantasy romance. I'm developing the magic system as I go. It is possible that there will be inconsistencies, because although I do have the plot in the back of my mind, I'm still figuring out things as I write.So if I change something in the middle of the story, you are free to call me out. I'll either attempt to explain it or work around it. Frankly, you will be doing me a great service (coz it' called plot hole inconsistencies)!Without further ado, let's dive right in!
The Songbird and the Thunderheart

Forced to marry!

When Mia Frazier agreed to her father's demand to marry Greek millionaire Alexander Doumas, she knew both men stood to gain from the deal--Alex would win back his family's island, and Mia's father would get the grandson and heir he so desperately longed for. But what about Mia?

She had her own reason for agreeing to be Alex's wife--which was not financial gain, as Alex cynically believed. But how could the truth stay hidden, when she shared such intense passion with her new husband...and was now carrying his child?

My Rating: 🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟

Intense, harrowing, and utterly gut wrenching

I cannot recollect the number of times I have read this book. The Price of a Bride is the OG of all forced marriage romance books with brooding hero and mysterious heroine with a tragic backstory.

Well, on the surface, the hero is forced to marry while the heroine seems to be getting the better end of the deal. But not all is what it appears to be, is it?

The tale has it all, the classic misunderstanding, the ultra-brooding of the hero who believes he has been conned and a villainous parental figure who acts cupid. But what makes me return to this story again and again to cry is the way Michelle Reid sets the various scenes between the protagonists. While the hero, Alex taunts and berates Mia every chance he gets, there are deeper issues underlying his toxicity. Of which he isn’t proud but Mia’a aloofness brings it out in him. Sometimes, just to get a rise out of her.

While, whenever the POV shifts to Mia, it is clear that there are layers of complex emotions and facts are pushing her to behave the way she does. Secrets upon secrets that she holds, the weight of which threatens to shove her deep in the ground, but she fights on. Just like every woman. To the outside world, she stoically plans her every move, never rises to any provocation, remains calm through all the insults that are thrown her way, taking refuge under a haughtiness which beguiling. 

And the end… it has a twist. I did wish for a harsher punishment for the villain, but karma has many forms, not all of which are apparent.

This is the story which made me fall in love with Michelle Reid’s writing. I wish she would write more.

 

Soulless (Revenge Games)

By M V KASI

It was only supposed to be a marriage of convenience...

Sia Sampath has one burning desire-revenge. And she is determined to achieve her goal, no matter what or who got in her way. But soon, Sia begins to realize that things in life don't always go according to a plan, especially things related to the heart. Married and forced to live with a man who hates her and feels betrayed by her, Sia must protect her heart from her temporary husband's touch and presence...

A gripping tale of revenge and a passionate love story...

[image error]My Rating: 🌟🌟🌟🌟

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I remember some few years back, I was tired of reading Danielle Steel, larger than life Nicolas Sparks, and the OG Mills and Boon and Harlequin books. Being an Indian girl growing up in the 90s, our indigenous romance books were my point of romance which focused heavily on 19th century idea of innocent love and ultimate sacrifice, mostly on the part of the women. When, at the age of 17, I got introduced to Mills and Boon, a new vista opened up for me.

But after a decade of gorging on those books, I was tired and wanted romance in Indian writing. And there was Chetan Bhagat, whose initial books I really liked, and then Durjoy Dutta, whose books I hated right from the start for their pretentiousness and wannabe westernness.

Then, by fluke, one day during my lunch hour, I came across M V Kasi’s Soulless. Along with which, I was introduced to Amazon KDP in the year of 2017. And I thank the author for that.

For me, this book was the starting of my journey of Indian contemporary romance with twist. Of dark romances. And what stood out for me, even after all these years is the female protagonist.

I read somewhere that the author was inspired to write this story after watching a Spanish show called Ruby during her college days. The novel isn’t as heavily complicated as the telenovela, but you definitely see strains of it. Combine it with a beautifully written spunky heroine with Indian sensibilities and the social issues of child abuse.

One cannot help but be intrigued by the heroine. When you start reading you would be baffled by her acts and choices, would want to hate her, but something will stop you. Will anger you even.

But once you actually go through with the entirety of the story, you’d see what made her tick, what made her the woman that she turned out to be.

It is essentially a game of revenge. Sia is abused by her guardians until a well-wisher rescues her and puts her up for adoption. Although her life vastly improves, the same couldn’t be said for her mental well-being. Fueled by the fire of revenge, she transforms herself into a ruthless creature who tramples the feelings of one person who, despite himself, loves her.

The hero is, in his own path of revenge. Ajay judges her by her actions; it isn’t until the very last that he sees Sia for what she is.

The story is very intriguing, the kind which will appeal to the readers of dark romance with morally grey characters.

 

 

Welcome to my Blog!

As the name suggests, I shall be talking about various Romance Stories that I have reads throughout my life. And that includes, a ton!!!

My love for book is hereditary. My mother is a voracious reader and my father presented me with a library since my birth. I read “Crime and Punishment” by Fyodor Dostoyevsky when I was only fourteen years old! No wonder, I didn’t understand a lot of it. Nevertheless, it only increased my curiosity about Russian Literature and before long I was devouring Leo Tolstoy and Alexander Pushkin.

My love with Romance novels started when my mentor cum neighbor gave me “The Desert Bride” by Lynne Graham, published by Mills & Boon. Before this, I had kind of got scared reading Devdas at the render age of twelve. I remember crying a lot and got the impression that romance sans tragedy isn’t a genre that exists in the world.

However, the more I read contemporary romance, I felt I needed to re-read the classics to understand what makes them classic! That took a lot of courage for introspection. And man! Was it useful!

What they say true.

The content of the book remains the same, only your realization changes over time and with age!

I am going to review and suggest reads for the lovers of Romance Readers especially. I will also, of course, write my two cents about my impressions of various classics and any random pieces I have loved.

There is also going to shameless self-promotion as I am a budding writer (don’t have the balls to call myself an Author yet).

Without further ado, Welcome once again to my blog!

-Claire

Blog banner design by Canva: https://www.canva.com/join/ripples-mi...

Welcome to my Blog!

As the name suggests, I shall be talking about various Romance Stories that I have reads throughout my life. And that includes, a ton!!!

My love for book is hereditary. My mother is a voracious reader and my father presented me with a library since my birth. I read “Crime and Punishment” by Fyodor Dostoyevsky when I was only fourteen years old! No wonder, I didn’t understand a lot of it. Nevertheless, it only increased my curiosity about Russian Literature and before long I was devouring Leo Tolstoy and Alexander Pushkin.

My love with Romance novels started when my mentor cum neighbor gave me “The Desert Bride” by Lynne Graham, published by Mills & Boon. Before this, I had kind of got scared reading Devdas at the render age of twelve. I remember crying a lot and got the impression that romance sans tragedy isn’t a genre that exists in the world.

However, the more I read contemporary romance, I felt I needed to re-read the classics to understand what makes them classic! That took a lot of courage for introspection. And man! Was it useful!

What they say true.

The content of the book remains the same, only your realization changes over time and with age!

I am going to review and suggest reads for the lovers of Romance Readers especially. I will also, of course, write my two cents about my impressions of various classics and any random pieces I have loved.

There is also going to shameless self-promotion as I am a budding writer (don’t have the balls to call myself an Author yet).

Without further ado, Welcome once again to my blog!

-Claire

Blog banner design by Canva: https://www.canva.com/join/ripples-mi...