#FantasyMystery

[rhiannoneltonauthor]

Preptober is officially here! 🎃 I'm diving deep into the magic and mystery of The Wolflock Cases this month, and things are getting spooky and exciting fast! What are you reading to get into the Halloween spirit? Comment below! And don't forget to like and subscribe for more mystery and fantasy magic! 💫🔍

[harmonyhealinghub]

The Golden Key Shaina Tranquilino September 21, 2024

In the small, quiet town of Eldenford, nestled between misty hills and shadowed woods, stood the old stone church of St. Agnes. The townspeople spoke little of it, save to warn the children away. It was said to be the oldest building in the town, far older than any of the records could confirm. Its heavy wooden doors were always shut, and the gargoyles perched above seemed to watch the streets with their hollow, knowing eyes. Laurel was not like the other children. While most her age ran through the fields or played by the river, she found herself drawn to St. Agnes with a fascination she couldn’t explain. Every day after school, she would pause on the way home to gaze at the church’s weathered stones, her eyes tracing the intricate carvings that adorned the arched entrance.

One rainy afternoon, as she walked by the churchyard, a flicker of gold caught her eye. Buried half in the mud at the base of an ancient oak tree was a small key. Laurel knelt and picked it up. It was cold to the touch, heavier than it looked, and engraved with symbols she didn’t recognize. A sense of importance buzzed around it, as though it hummed with some forgotten power.

Her heart raced. Could this be the key to the church’s locked door? She had never seen anyone go in or out, and no one seemed to know where the key to St. Agnes was—or if there even was one.

That night, long after her parents had gone to bed, Laurel slipped out of the house with the golden key clutched tightly in her hand. The rain had stopped, leaving the streets slick and gleaming under the pale moonlight. Her breath fogged in the cool night air as she made her way to the church. The ancient stones loomed before her, and the gargoyles seemed to tilt their heads ever so slightly as she approached.

With trembling hands, Laurel inserted the key into the door’s heavy lock. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, with a slow, creaking groan, the door swung inward, revealing the dark interior of the church.

Laurel stepped inside, her heart pounding in her chest. The air was thick, not with dust as she had expected, but with something else—something old, something forgotten. She glanced around. The nave was dimly lit by the flickering remnants of long-burnt-out candles, but everything else seemed untouched by time. The pews stood in perfect rows, the altar gleamed faintly at the far end, and the stained glass windows glowed with muted colours in the moonlight.

But it wasn’t the sanctuary that drew Laurel forward. There was something more, something hidden. Her feet seemed to move on their own as she walked deeper into the church.

Behind the altar, in a shadowed alcove, was another door. It was small, barely noticeable, as if the stone walls themselves were trying to swallow it. It had no handle, no visible lock—except for a small, circular indentation near its center.

Without hesitation, Laurel pressed the golden key into the indentation. The door clicked softly and swung open, revealing a staircase that spiraled down into the earth.

Her pulse quickened, but curiosity overcame fear. She descended, the stone steps cold beneath her feet, the air growing thicker and warmer with each step. Faint sounds reached her ears—whispers, like a distant chant, though the words were unintelligible.

The stairs ended in a vast chamber, far below the church. Torches flickered along the walls, casting dancing shadows across the floor, and in the centre of the room stood an ancient altar, surrounded by strange, twisting statues. They were not like the saints or angels Laurel had seen in pictures. These figures were distorted, their faces wild and terrifying, their bodies frozen in unnatural poses.

And yet, they seemed alive.

Laurel took a hesitant step forward. The air felt electric, as if the chamber itself was breathing. Before the altar lay a pool of black water, perfectly still, its surface like glass. Above it, suspended in the air, hung a golden thread—thin and delicate, glowing faintly with an otherworldly light.

The whispers grew louder. Laurel could almost understand them now—names, maybe, or prayers in a forgotten language. They beckoned her forward, urging her to touch the thread.

Her fingers hovered above it. As soon as she made contact, the room shifted. The statues’ eyes glowed with life, and the water in the pool began to ripple. Slowly, impossibly, figures began to rise from the water—shapes of gods long forgotten, their forms vast and incomprehensible.

They were not like the gods of the stories Laurel had heard. These were beings of shadow and light, of stone and flame, their faces both beautiful and terrible. She could feel their presence pressing down on her, ancient and powerful.

"Who calls us?" one of them spoke, its voice a rumble that seemed to shake the very foundation of the earth.

Laurel's mouth went dry, but she could not speak. The gods’ gaze fell upon her, their eyes burning with a hunger for recognition, for worship.

"You have the key," the voice continued. "You have unlocked what was meant to be forgotten."

The weight of their words crushed her. She wanted to flee, to escape back to the safety of the town above, but her legs would not move.

Another figure spoke, its voice softer, more insidious. "We are the gods before gods. The ones the world has turned away from. But you, child—you can bring us back."

The key in Laurel's hand pulsed with warmth, as if urging her to make a choice. The gods awaited her answer, their forms rippling with barely contained power.

Laurel took a breath, steadying herself. Her mind raced. She had found something wondrous, but it was also terrifying. Could she release these beings back into the world? Could she bear the consequences?

Slowly, she turned and ran.

The golden key fell from her hand, clattering to the floor as she fled up the stairs, through the door, and back into the cold night. Behind her, the church door slammed shut with a thunderous boom, sealing the hidden world once again.

Laurel never returned to St. Agnes. But every now and then, she could feel the pull of the golden key, the weight of what she had uncovered. The gods still lingered beneath the church, waiting for another to find them.

[apwmagazine]

Where Is Kindred Filmed?

Where Is Kindred Filmed?

Based on Octavia E. Butler’s eponymous 1979 novel, Hulu’s ‘Kindred’ is a fantasymystery drama sequence that follows a youthful Black lady named Dana James who needs of turning right into a well-established writer. To flip that dream into actuality, she leaves behind her family and strikes to a model new metropolis. Looking forward to discovering out what’s in retailer for her eventually, Dana…

[aratheon]

Broken Souls - Chapter 70

Lura discovers how to reach a flow state through the divine light #elves #elf #freebook #freebie #freebies #aratheon #fantasy #epicfantasy #darkfantasy #fantasyromance #freebook #free #fantasynovel #elvenpaladin #fantasyreligion #fantasymystery #mystery

Lura Syllana Time seems to pass by so fast as I meditate. It’s still hard to ignore the call of the blue flame. I want to dive back into it, but thankfully the Divine Light I feel when I channel through the crystal is just as fulfilling, if not more so. It takes me a little over twelve days, meditating around eight hours a day to complete my hours. Then I sit with Sister Jereno to pass her test…

[goldenonionstan]

        | how to destroy angels | 

summary: after being wrongly accused of the murder of her fiancé, Bella Swan is trying to find stability in her broken life. Until a mysterious brown-haired boy reveals a harrowing secret about the man she loved, and she embarks on a time-bending journey to clear her name..

 prologue

[trappedinabookworld]

(NOT) A BOOK REVIEW📖📖 (STRICTLY SPEAKING😬😬) This is what you need to break your reading slump...this is what you need to get back to reading the whole night , sneaking for midnight snacks and wanting to stop doing everything to finish to get to know the ending.🤩📖🤩📖 That's CRESCENT CITY for you. SJM brings a new amalgamation of vampires, werewolves,angels,demons and a murderous serial killer,the result being a sleep depriving drug of a book🥰🥰 When half-fae Bryce,after a heartbreaking tragedy partners with a fallen angel "Hunt" to bring those responsible to justice,what the characters (and readers)don't realize is that "nothing is what it seems ".The murders are not that random,those murdered are not that innocent...the protectors of the innocent are not that pure, and the weak are not that helpless.😏😏😏 What I liked😍 1.Fast paced ⚡ 2.Glorious twists and turns👍👍 3.Badass characters🎉🎉 4.Mystery+magic+love story+friendship =unputdownable😍😍 What I wish were different🌠 The sequel should have been out sooner #trappedinabookworldreviews ,#bookrecommendations ,#sarahjmassbooks ,#sarahjmass ,#crescentcity ,#fantasybooks ,#mysterybooks ,#lovereadings ,#bibliophile ,#fantasyromance ,#fantasyfiction ,#fantasymystery ,#mystery,#strongfemalelead ,#bookstagramindia ,#booksofinstagram ,#bookstagram,#bookreview ,#booklover ,#bookblogs https://www.instagram.com/p/CQ0MFYMLq6j/?utm_medium=tumblr

[author-mathomas]

Post Six. My WIP blurb. Bet you thought this was going to be another shameless plug for #TheGirlDiaries didn't you? Well it's not, this blurb is for a book I'm still character mapping. It's a dark fantasy about a child kidnapped by creatures from another realm and #spoileralert I may be including some love triangle elements and also perhaps a quest! Actually, I am including those. I love drama. #WIPBlurb #authorschallenge2019 #FebruaryWriting #FantasyMystery https://www.instagram.com/p/Bth5BtBHlHz/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1dmsaah71ha1s

[erawls-themaskedstoryteller]

Hey, guys! Here it is: the cover reveal for my Wonderland series: Madness Solver in Wonderland! At long last, this popular serial series I used to write on my blog will soon be published, and as a duology at that! Those of you who’ve followed my blog for a long time will remember the Blog Battle Challenge days, and how the prompt word “madness” brought this tale to be. I couldn’t help but think of the Mad Hatter with that prompt, y’know? And so, I crafted my smarter, mystery-solver version of the Hatter and his adventures as the guardian between Wonderland and Earth! Basically, if you like Wonderland, mysteries, and humor, then this is for you. Purchase links are in my bio's link: linktr.ee #MadnessSolver #wonderlandbooks #madhatter #newbookrelease #newreads #aliceinwonderland #fairytalebooks #folkloreandfairytales #AuthorEERawls #authorsofinstagram #writersofinstagram #bookstagram #bookphotography #bookart #booklove #bookrecommendations #booklover #bookcommunity #madnesssolverinwonderland #mysteryadventures #fantasybooks #fantasymystery #steampunkart #steampunkfantasy https://www.instagram.com/p/COVlLy_r5XW/?igshid=gs1emop1fq30

[thewanderingwordsmith3]

New Cover, New name, New Chapter.  

Chasing The Mist - Chapter 7-True Terror (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/1078642594-chasing-the-mist-chapter-7-true-terror?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_reading&wp_uname=ggirl3&wp_originator=wmj8vyVbe2TaLyt3uH6tO8p9pEuFXgQ3FtujtT5bZuqceWY4JaZ8CoHSygh2sC3p5zGGTZ8Wdj%2FGMOlUN8PDc0vEM0h4i4htCcQmJvPFGKlm0YsDEDMnLzlT9%2FL%2F%2BzRm 

 Him: Wouldn't lose his charming smile watching the world go up in flames. Her: By his side longing to read the arsonist's autobiography. The super powered people of Sprikson city are under attack and tensions are high, though that has nothing to do with Andriet as her only concerns are herself, her work, herself, Cylan and maybe a bit on the attacker's psyche. But it becomes her business when their peaceful lives get disturbed as that very best friend of her's becomes the prime suspect of the attacks. With no way to avoid involvement, she will have to help Cylan hunt down the true criminal, all while fending off the suspicions of those around them. But what happens when the hunter becomes the hunted and the mysterious attacks turn to them. Previously titled: Him & Her Photo is not mine. Credits to the owner.

[missmusiclove]

“Even after everything - even with everything that was still between us, that would probably always be between us - she was my sister. I was born reaching for her.” ✨💫✨💫✨ I don’t know what I expected when I started reading Magic for Liars by Sarah Gailey, but it sure wasn’t what I ended up with, in the very best way. Magic for Liars follows Ivy Gamble and her estranged twin sister Tabitha, and the tension filled bond between them. The whole relationship is complex, as Tabitha is magic, and Ivy is not. While exploring the sibling dynamics between the two, we also follow Ivy as she is hired to solve a murder at the school where her sister teachers. I loved the depiction of magic in this story. I thought it was well thought out and different enough from other books where magic is being taught in a school for magic teenagers. The discussions around both magic and the theory behind the magic kept me intrigued beyond the murder mystery, although that in itself was fascinating. Something that really impressed me about this novel was how realistic the characters acted and felt, Ivy in particular. The setting was also incredibly real; a highschool with teenagers being teenagers, with just a touch of magic and power thrown in. Gailey has done a fantastic job making the school setting feel plausible. Overall, I rated this book highly, and I’m very keen to dive into Gailey’s other works. ✨💫✨💫✨ Magic for Liars is book 82 for 2020. #bookstragram #books #booksofinstagram #booklover #bookphoto #reading #aussieswhoread #avidreader #booklover #aussiereader #bookdragon #reader #readersofig #booksofig #bookcommunity #bookish #bibliophile #readersofinstagram #bookstagrammer #booklife #bookaddict #girlswhoread #readinggoals2020 #auskiwibooksta #bookquote #magicforliars #sarahgailey #sarahgaileybooks #magicmurdermystery #fantasymystery https://www.instagram.com/p/CF-uDDGgx2-/?igshid=1m64cpicpqglt

[rhiannoneltonauthor]

🕵️‍♂️✨ Preptober 2024 is here! 🎃

Preptober 2024 is here and I’m coming back from the veil of chaos! 🕵️‍♂️🔮 After a whirlwind year of full-time work and separation from my writing, I’m bringing my magic and mysteries back to life!

😱✨ Watch me prep for the next Wolflock Cases adventure and find the magic in the madness. 📚 Follow along for more updates on The Wolflock Cases and writing shenanigans.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

https://linktr.ee/rhidelton

There is something slipping through the veil 'tween this world and the next. Something magical. Read, watch and wonder what thoughts this author ponders. Wait and see, wish with glee, for your eyes shall gleam anew with all that is fantastical. Every book is started with a single letter. Every author starts their journey somewhere at some time. This is my beginning, many eons ago.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Get your copy of The Case of the Captain's Hair here: https://dl.bookfunnel.com/xhsjiiiu3a

To lend your aid to the spell that thins the veil, click your favourite ingredient below:

Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/RhiDElton

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Fussy Librarian: Get 20% off your first purchase and help me thin the veil for Wolflock’s world at the same time https://authors.thefussylibrarian.com/?ref=rhiannon.elton

#Preptober2024 #FantasyMystery #AmWriting #WritingCommunity #IndieAuthor #MagicMystery #BookTok

[friendsofthemaskedghost]

Excerpt from my novel CLOCKWORK GENIE

Both Cecilia and Kramer watched as the detective pointed out what he described.

"Coroner puts time of death between eleven and midnight last night. As you saw, there was a scuffle in the hallway, which led into here. Perhaps Granger was attempting to escape his attacker. There doesn’t appear to be any weapons in the room or elsewhere in the house for him to defend himself with though. The desk phone was in place and we’ve already checked that no phone calls were made during that time, so no help was on the way. We still don’t know what he was intending by coming in here. He was trapping himself."

He then turned and indicated the doorway and the stain of the floor.

"Granger was just a few feet inside when he was struck on the back of the head by a blunt object. We believe it was a brass sculpture we found near the body. The lab boys have it now and we’re testing it for prints. Though it is likely a burglary gone wrong, and Granger surprised the thief, there are also indications that this may have been a crime of passion."

"Crime of passion?" Kramer asked.

"Yes. Grabbing something close at hand could have been the thief’s attempt to take out who had discovered him. But Granger’s head was pretty much smashed in, multiple times. Caving his skull into his brain."

"Oh, God," Cecilia turned away into the hallway, feeling sick, and leaned against a cupboard, full of Waterford Crystal. What am I doing here, she thought as she saw her reflection in the glass.

"You know," Lambert was now talking to the lawyer, giving Cecilia a moment to recover from what she had seen and forget what her mind had imagined, "for a guy whose worth billions, the security here is rather lax. Though nothing appears to have been stolen, this room alone could mount up a pretty penny for any burglar. Yet there is no alarm system and he never has a security guard at the gatehouse."

"From what I know of Mr. Granger, he didn’t feel the extra security was necessary," Kramer cautiously suggested.

"You said the guy was eccentric, but in this city security is a necessity."

Cecilia felt somewhat better and joined them once more, while trying to avoid looking at the bloody stain something else caught her eye in the study.

A massive painting hung high above the fireplace mantle. It was a portrait of who she surmised to be Granger himself. There was something odd about the image; the man looked ancient and childlike, with a large muscular frame. His hair was white, and wrinkles of age cut across his face, and yet there was also a youthful excitement in those eyes and mischievousness in the smile that was barely there. It did make Cecilia think of her father, just enough of a family resemblance. Maybe that was just wishful thinking on her part; it had been ten years since she had last looked upon her father’s face.

The oddness of the painting only continued. Granger was seated in the same red leather wing back chair that sat behind the desk in this very room, but Cecilia noticed a hand on his left shoulder. A woman’s youthful and slender hand attached to an arm that vanished into the darkness behind the chair. In a near black, dark red background, she could just make out a silhouette of a figure, yet there was no definition. If it weren’t for the hand, the figure would never have been noticed. Had this mystery woman been painted over?

Cecilia’s eyes were drawn down from the hand through the painting to the mantel where several photos and other knickknacks sat. She’d have to get closer to be certain; but one of those photos was of a small boy. Could that be my father? At the other side of the mantel was an ornately carved glass case and inside hung on a chain was a golden pocket watch. The sun light from the window sparkled off the gold creating an almost magical glow.

Cecilia felt drawn into the room, but the thought of the blood on the floor and what had happened there broke the dream like feeling. Turning away she faced detective Lambert once more, she blushed as she realized he had been watching her the entire time.

"Sounds like you’re pretty confident this was a breaking and entering case that went wrong," Cecilia said as she recovered. "Yet you still consider me as a suspect. Your prime suspect even."

"There were no signs of a break in. Someone may have surprised him when he got home last night. We’re following up on all potential leads, and the inheritance still keeps you at the top right now."

"Well, not to do your job, Detective, but do I really look like I’m strong enough to smash someone’s head in?"

She stepped back to let him have a look at her frame, and found that she liked him looking. The pants and blouse she had thrown on this morning for work didn’t fit very well, but she hoped it hid the extra pounds she felt had gathered around her hips. She suddenly stopped, and realized how weird it was to think about her weight and clothes when she was the suspect of a murder.

"In the heat of passion," he responded after giving her the once over, and maybe the twice and third over, "anyone is capable of the most violent acts."

Cecilia watched him looking and tried not to judge what he was thinking.

"And a ‘crime of passion’ is quite often the act of a woman," she stated.

"Not every time, but it is frequently the case," Lambert replied.

"Let me see if I’ve got this straight," she began, pushing aside her own feeling, and looked for clues in his response. "You think Mr. Granger, my apparent grandfather, had already made contact with me. And that a young woman desperate for cash would be quite thrilled to discover she could inherit all this." She waved her arms about to indicate the opulence of the mansion. "All her troubles, bills, loans, and lousy job would be behind her. The only thing that stood in her way was old man Granger himself."

Lambert seemed quite amused and wasn’t going to stop her little performance.

"So this desperate girl travels all the way out here, maybe to ask ‘Daddy Warbucks’ for a loan, but when he tells her ‘no’ she grabs whatever is convenient and starts taking the inheritance out of his skull. How am I doing?"

"Ah… you just summed up the case against you. I think your lawyer here would suggest you not say anything more."

Cecilia looked from the detective to Kramer who was standing off to the side watching the entire show. He nodded in agreement.

"Thank you," she smiled at Lambert, "I’m a writer. Sold a detective story last month. I see myself more as a fantasy writer, but I grew up reading mysteries so wanted to give it a try. Didn’t think it was great, to my amazement they bought it so I’m not complaining. As to your case, I’m not all that concerned; I never met or knew who Granger was. If I’m not wrong, you’re already looking elsewhere. Otherwise we would be having this discussion in an interrogation room at the police station and the trip out here wouldn’t have been necessary. I suppose you were gauging my reaction to being here."

"I wouldn’t act so cocky around the next homicide detective you come in contact with."

"I’m hoping you’re the only homicide detective I come in contact with."

Amazon Kindle: http://amzn.to/v5f7v2

Nook:  http://bit.ly/smHLZX

iBook: http://bit.ly/rV8gCc

Smashwords: http://bit.ly/trpoJd

[aratheon]

Broken Souls - Chapter 64

Lura discovers the truth within the words of Akrasiel #elves #elf #freebook #freebie #freebies #aratheon #fantasy #epicfantasy #darkfantasy #fantasyromance #freebook #free #fantasynovel #elvenpaladin #fantasyreligion #fantasymystery #mystery #elves #elf

Lura Syllana I must start by saying the hard truth that was told to me by the Angel Akrasiel himself. The Guardian of the Light pulled me aside and told me this truth of reality and existence. Most of the gods of the other religions exist and are real. There is not just one god, but many. Some are benevolent and peaceful. They seek to protect and nourish. While others are malevolent and violent.…

[aratheon]

Broken Souls - Chapter 62

Lura and her friends finally become accepted! #elves #elf #freebook #freebie #freebies #aratheon #fantasy #epicfantasy #darkfantasy #fantasyromance #freebook #free #fantasynovel #elvenpaladin #fantasyreligion #fantasymystery #mystery #elves #elf

Lura Syllana As tomorrow comes, the four of us meet up and all exchange nods. No one speaks as we are all nervous. Everyone except for Ralodan. He’s his usual calm, confident self. I envy that aspect of him. I wish I could remain calm and confident. We head in to meet with Illianaro to tell him we are ready to take the final test. He nods and has us follow him as we are brought to a separate…

[goldenonionstan]

            |  prologue

                    |   how brittle the bones (645 words)

summary: after being wrongly accused of the murder of her fiancé, Bella Swan is trying to find stability in her broken life. Until a mysterious brown-haired boy reveals a harrowing secret about the man she loved, and she embarks on a time-bending journey to clear her name...

a/n: i originally posted this to my ff.net account missyouforever but i felt like pleasing my little twelve year old heart and posting it on here too. it’s a fic idea born from watching double jeopardy and spending way too many on tiktok. let me know what you think x

//

16th August 2005

The sky was still dark when my eyelids fluttered open, although I swore I had slept for hours, and we had not gone to bed until the early hours of the morning. The rock that sat heavily on my left ring finger reminded me why waves crashed against the walls of the dark bedroom I laid in, and my stomach immediately turned from motion sickness. My head throbbed, and my eyelashes were crusty from forgotten mascara. We must have celebrated hard.

I was surprised that James had not forgotten our anniversary this year, despite many years neglecting our special day. Although I liked to play off that the lack of sentiment failed to affect me, my heart continued to break every time he came home empty-handed, skulking into our bedroom to arrange meetings with clients. A businessman to the core, it had been accepted in our relationship that he was married to his job, and I was simply his lowly mistress.

Although, it was more that it was something I had been told and had to accept.

So, when James pulled me into his sleek new car and drove us down to the marina, I could not quite comprehend the candles that stretched out before me, nor the motor yacht that bobbed upon the waves. In an act of disbelief, the word yes escaped my lips before I could comprehend what it truly meant; what I had, tonight, condemned myself to. Rubbing a manicured hand across my forehead, I reached across the silk sheets with my other to find my fiancé.

My skin was simply greeted by cold, sticky material. "James…?"

The liquid lining the bedsheets felt uneasy against my palms, but I figured we had spilled champagne on the bed in our giddy shenanigans. Grabbing my nightgown from the back of an armchair, I draped the luxurious garment over my exposed frame. My eyes were still yet to adjust to the darkness around me as I staggered towards the stairs that led to the top deck, expecting to find James on some business call on the sun-loungers.

As I took a step, I could feel the same thick substance pool between my toes as I had just found on our bed, and an iron-like scent filled my nostrils. Was the champagne off? I asked myself as awkwardly fumbled for the light switch.

When light replaced darkness, I wished I had never woken up.

Claret, syrupy blood coated the decking of the floor, matching the hue of my newly painted toenails. The substance was also splattered across the walls of the vessel and mapped-out my route to the top deck. Clasping a hand across my opened mouth, I could not stop myself from vomiting on the wood, a guttural moan of agony escaping in its wake.

"James!" I wailed, racing up the stairs before me. Careful to avoid the pools of blood on the floor, my eyes frantically searched the top deck for any sign of my fiancé, desperately praying that this was some ridiculous wine-drunk nightmare and that I would wake up to the comfort of his arms. Instead, something glimmered in the moonlight. Gingerly lifting the item, another moan escaped my lips.

The knife James had used earlier to prepare the strawberries for our celebratory glasses was now saturated in his blood.

A sudden flash of light almost made me drop the utensil onto the decking, and instead, I clutched the metal against my chest. As hideous as it sounded, this was all I currently had left of the man I loved.

"This is the Coastguard – Ma'am, are you hurt?" A voice boomed from a speaker on the approaching boat, penetrating my racing thoughts.

I opened my mouth to reply, but it was almost as though the knife had cut my own tongue from my mouth.

My future husband…was dead.

[goldenonionstan]

      | chapter one

            | the sound of forgetting

summary: after being wrongly accused of the murder of her fiancé, Bella Swan is trying to find stability in her broken life. Until a mysterious brown-haired boy reveals a harrowing secret about the man she loved, and she embarks on a time-bending journey to clear her name…

a/n: hooray harooh harrah i finished chapter one and this baby is ready to go! i can’t communicate to you how pumped i am to explore this world and all the dark fantasy that comes with it! let me know what you think x

October 14th, 2012

It was still dark when I pulled my ancient Chevrolet pick-up into the parking lot of the café, and I settled the beast into an open space next to Dad's favorite oak tree. Killing the engine, I reveled in the heat of the truck's cab, bracing myself for the crisp, Washington air that awaited me outside. Unfortunately, I always drew the short straw when it came to taking the early morning shifts from my siblings – Seth and Leah knew how to get exactly what they wanted from Sue.

"Morning, Dad," I called out as I strode into the café, hitting the switch for the neon OPEN sign that hung on the front door; it awoke with a dull hum. Garish lights reflected off the green gingham tablecloths Charlie had bought the other day from Billy Black – I made a mental note to look for replacements when I got home.

"Morning, sweet pea," He replied from the kitchen, and I could hear bacon already sizzling on the grill.

Dad had been the proud owner of Clearwater's Bites, sharing the responsibility with his wife, Sue, for almost ten years. Nestled into the sleepy heart of Forks, Washington, Charlie had surprised Sue with the café as an engagement present after she told him about her life-long dream of owning a restaurant. In the summer of 2002, he became the head-chef, Sue ran the front-of-house, and waitressing shifts were shared out between me, Seth and Leah. I was happy to see that the place was still standing when I was released from prison.

I doubted anyone else would have wanted to hire a convicted murderer to make small talk with their regulars.

"Expecting it to be busy today?" I inquired, making polite small talk as I rolled napkins neatly around pairs of knives and forks.

"Not too sure, Bells. It is a Sunday so I doubt we'll be rammed, but, then again, I could be wrong. We'll have to see."

Thank goodness, I thought, breathing a sigh of relief into the growing stack of cutlery; at least there wouldn't be so many whispers and stares.

"Sounds good, Dad! I'm sure we'll be able to hold down the fort!"

I enjoyed working shifts with Charlie – neither of us were particularly big talkers, so we worked side-by-side in comfortable silence, nodding at each other as we passed. While he set about preparing for the breakfast shift, I worked at serving the odd customer, giving the place a scrub when we were quiet – my siblings were not as pedantic at cleaning as I was, so I think Charlie and Sue were happy to have me in the shop.

The early birds were my favorite people to serve because, where the café was quiet, I was able to pay close attention to what they ordered. Gladys, along with her Labrador, Skip, came in for her regular one-shot cappuccino with extra chocolate dusting, while an elderly gentleman in a bowler hat ordered a simple tea and sat against the far-window, reading a newspaper. I let my mind conjure a story where the two used to be high-school sweethearts, but were torn apart when Gladys' mother died, and she went to live with her aunt. After seven years with very little to do, I had learned to become reliant on my imagination.

It was around two hours into my shift that a stream of customers began to build, and our small parking lot became crammed with a plethora of vehicles. A buzz of chatter filled the room as people shared stories over cups of steaming liquid, and my heart swelled. When people were paying little attention to me, I felt content to find myself amongst a crowd again.

"Welcome to Clearwater's Bites," I chirped cheerfully, placing two laminated menus before a new table of customers. They were two brawny construction workers, and both wore black t-shirts that clung to their bulging chests, stained with streaks of paint and dust. "What can I get for you today?"

"Aren't you the woman who murdered her fiancé?"

The pen began to shake between my fingers, but I couldn't tell whether it was from anger or the tears that stung my eyes. My prison sentence came to an end a month ago, and, although the accident happened in 2005, my presence in town seemed to stir up old memories. The front page of every national press had covered the story from the moment the coastguard pulled The Victoria to shore, and I had been led off the deck in handcuffs. I would get the occasional inquiry as to whether I was happy to be back in town, or what I planned to do with my time now I had returned to Forks.

It was the direct questions that always threw me off.

"Uhm," I murmured, struggling to get my thoughts straight. "No, I don't think that was me, but I appreciate the inquiry."

"Oh, come on, it's definitely you! Isabella, isn't it?" The weaker of the two men smirked as he leaned back in his chair, taking in the view of my beat-up Levi's from behind. "I would recognize that ass anywhere."

I clicked my tongue against my teeth as I turned away from his gaze and looked around briefly to see if anyone had overheard what he said. No-one seemed to be paying attention to our interaction.

"Would you like some tea with that misogyny, Paul?" His friend remarked from behind his menu, throwing a glare in his direction. Paul sat back up in his chair.

"Would you just fuck off, Jake? I'm only messing with the pretty lady." He turned back to me. "You were definitely the lass I had pinned up in my locker last year."

"That's wonderful. Do you want me to autograph it for you?"

"Ay, Mami, is this that famous temper of yours? Hopefully, there's no sharp objects around."

Paul winked; I seethed.

"It's eight in the morning, for Christ's sake," Paul's tanned friend spat as he handed me his menu. "We'll take two Americanos. Black, no sugar."

"No problem," I replied, plastering my best customer service smile across my face. "Coming right up!"

"You could always leave me your number instead," Paul hollered at me as I shuffled back behind the counter, drowning out my racing thoughts with the noisy whirr of grinding coffee beans.

"Alright, sweetheart?" Charlie poked his head around the entrance to the kitchen, forehead glittering with sweat. He held two plates of eggs in his hands. "Not causing you trouble, are they?"

I punched the double-shot button a little too hard on our clunky coffee machine, watching the black liquid splutter into the awaiting cup. "Nothing I can't handle, Dad."

"Are you sure? I haven't seen them around before, so I'm sure they wouldn't mind if I told them to move along?"

I peeked over at the men again as I waited for their cups to fill. Paul sat texting on a cell-phone, no doubt something about me; his friend…Jake, I think it was, glanced over and smiled. I darted my gaze back to the coffee.

"Honestly, Dad, it's chill," I placed the now-steaming cups of coffee onto two saucers, grabbing a pot of sugar cubes. "Like you said, they're not regulars. Probably won't ever see them again."

Charlie nodded. "Chin up, Princess, don't let-"

"-Your tiara fall," I finished, turning back towards Paul and Jake. "I got it, Dad."

Gingerly returning to their table, I placed a cup in front of each of the men and practically ran back behind the counter before they could make any more remarks. I avoided looking in their direction for the duration of their stay, feeling relaxed as I watched them take the last swigs of their drinks.

Until Jake started walking towards the counter. Feeling my heart in my stomach, I pretended to be writing something on a spare blackboard.

"Hey," He said, standing awkwardly in front of the register. "I just came to bring this back. No sugar, remember?"

He placed the neglected sugar pot in front of me; I shook my head. "Oops, sorry. Just one of those mornings."

"No problem, I get that." He chuckled. "I kept waiting for you to come back to collect it. Seemed like you were avoiding our table…?"

"You're observant," I remarked. "Didn't want your friend to harass me again."

"Yeah, I also came over to say sorry about Paul. He's a bit too forward sometimes."

"Don't worry, I'm used to it." I picked up the sugar pot and wiggled it. "Thanks for bringing this back."

Jake smiled, and we stood there in silence for a moment. His brown eyes bore into mine for longer than I expected, and I looked away, feeling my cheeks heat up.

"Right, I completely forgot to introduce myself, I'm Jake-" He stretched his hand towards me. "Jacob Black. My father owns the furniture shop in town."

"Isabella Swan," I giggled, taking his outstretched hand. "You must know my dad then. Charlie?"

"Probably not, I only just moved into town. I used to live with my Mom."

"Oh, cool, what happened to your Mom, if you don't mind my asking?"

"It's nothing like that, she just got remarried." Jacob looked at the floor. "Moved to Canada."

"Didn't fancy it?"

"Not really; wasn't up for moving sticks, I'd just got my job here."

"Construction, yeah?"

"At Forks High School."

"Nice – I used to go there, definitely could have used a revamp back then."

"Well, luckily we're here now!" We both smiled at each other. "That must mean you know Forks pretty well?"

I crooked an eyebrow at him. "Hmm, it depends why you're asking..."

"I was looking for a tour guide if you were up for it? Need someone to show me the ins and outs, stuff like that."

"Paul's not good enough for that?" Looking behind him, I expected to see his friend leering at us, but I was pleasantly surprised to find an empty table.

"He's not the greatest company."

"That's fair. I'm working the next coupla' nights, but maybe Thursday? I get off at 6."

"Sounds great." Flashing another smile, I realized how perfect his teeth were.

"Perfect – I'll show you the literal two bars in town."

Jacob took a napkin from the stack next to the counter, and pulled a pen from his back pocket, roughly scribbling down a series of numbers before handing it to me. "My number. Call if you need to cancel."

"I'll try not to," I flushed. "See you Thursday."

"Looking forward to it."

My heartbeat did not slow to a regular pace until Jake had safely clambered into his truck, and I watched Paul drive them out of the parking lot. I hadn't been the subject of a man's affection for what seemed like a lifetime. Had it always made me this giddy?

"Hey, Bells," Charlie's voice pulled me from my thoughts.

"What's up, Dad?"

"Would you mind making me up a large pot of tea? I'm just going to say hello to Carlisle over there!"

Nodding eagerly, I set about grabbing our best porcelain pot from the shelf, settling the open-top under the tap of hot water, and switched it on. Charlie always spoke highly of Carlisle, a doctor who worked at the local hospital, and I was always in awe of his wife, Esme, when she accompanied him for a coffee and a croissant. They looked perfect, like models, with porcelain-smooth skin, and matching caramel-colored hair. I felt scrawny and inferior in comparison.

He occupied the corner table, where the elderly gentleman had sat this morning, but his wife was nowhere in sight. Instead, he was joined by a statuesque blonde with legs for days, a Herculean man who looked like he could break my head between one bicep, and a willowy boy with unruly, russet hair. Despite his form being covered by a long-sleeved black roll-beck, I could see his hands were extremely pale. In fact, they all were.

They all looked as though they had never felt a drop of Vitamin D in their lives.

Dad tottered over to their table, shaking Carlisle's hand with a grin. He had it draped on the shoulder of the tall, pale boy when I arrived with the tea.

"Ah, Isabella, perfect timing! This is Rosalie and Emmett, Carlisle's niece and her boyfriend," Charlie said, gesturing at the blonde and her burly man; I nodded politely and they returned the favor. "And this is Edward, Carlisle's son."

Once again, I nodded in the direction of Edward but he only grunted in response, grabbing for the pot of tea, and pouring himself a cup. Compared to Jacob, he had the manners of a toilet brush.

"He's a little shy," Emmett reassured, nudging Edward in the ribs.

"No worries," I blathered. "Enjoy!"

I hurried back to the counter almost as quickly as before, except I was sure no one was trying to stare at my butt this time. I knew Edward did not owe me anything – it had been a pretty awkward introduction from Charlie anyway – but a smile wouldn't have hurt anyone. I glanced back over towards Carlisle's table and caught Edward staring at me, eyebrows furrowed together. Just as Jacob had done earlier, I pulled my lips into a tight smile. He cocked his head to one side, briefly, as though mentally sizing me up. Finally, he smirked back, turning then to engage in passionate conversation with his family of perfect specimens.

I had a feeling, deep within me, that this wasn’t going to be the last time I saw this brown-haired boy.