A Sneak Peak at Banished
Mine and Mom's latest novel, Banished, is slated to be released February 12th. This is a retelling of the Cinderella Story and is book 1 in a series called The Grimm Laws. It was a super fun book to write, and I can't wait for everyone to read it!!
Pre-order your copy here
Pre-order your copy of Banished and enter a drawing to win a Deluxe Valentine's Day Package and free ebooks! (For more details, see the blog post that was written just before this one.)
Here's a sneak peak at the first chapter ...
Chapter 1
The Stranger in
the Mirror
(Present Day)
Before the
accident she’d been normal. Before the accident she’d never questioned who she
was. She’d never questioned what she should do. How she should act. It had come
as easily to her as breathing—at least that’s what everyone kept saying. She
reached for a comb and absentmindedly raked it through her long, blond tresses
while studying her reflection in the antique mirror. She was attractive, she
decided, with fine-boned features and a thin nose sprinkled with freckles so
faint that she had to lean forward in order to see them. Delicate lips framed
white, even teeth. She ran the tip of her index finger along the curve of her
jaw as she continued her critique of the reflection in the mirror. She was
thin. Perhaps a little on the skinny side. She shrugged off the notion. While
she might not be able to remember her name, family, or past, she somehow
innately knew that being skinny wasn’t a bad thing. Her focus went to the clear, intelligent eyes staring back
at her—two large blue coins. They were obviously her best feature, but they
looked so strange … so lost. She stared into the fathomless blue pools until
fear fluttered in her breast. She suppressed it and leaned forward into her
reflection, gripping the comb hard enough that it left imprints in her palm.
“Who are you?” she demanded. “Why can’t you remember?” She exerted all of her
power, trying to will her brain to recollect something … anything. All her
effort yielded was the beginning of a dull headache that was working its way
across her brow.
As far as she
could tell, this is how it happened. She was standing in front of the bathroom
mirror, having just gotten out of the shower. A pimple had popped up on her
forehead, and she was standing on her tiptoes, reaching up to the top shelf of
the cabinet, trying to grab the acne medicine. The rug underneath her feet
slipped, and she fell backwards, hitting her head on the porcelain tub. It was
a freak accident that put her in a coma for two weeks and three days. When she
finally awoke, she had no recollection of … well … anything. Her life was a big
blank. The doctors were stupefied, not understanding how a single bump on the
head could cause such calamitous results. They’d put her through a barrage of MRI’s,
Cat-Scans and every other test they could dream up. Even though everything came back clean, there was a lurking
suspicion that the coma was induced by some latent, perhaps hereditary
condition that was triggered by the concussion.
“Will my memory
come back?” she’d asked, looking back and forth between the white-cloaked
doctors and the strangers that were her family.
Dr. Marcourt, the
leading physician, had scratched his head. “It’s hard to say because every case
is so different. Since we don’t know the definitive cause of your coma and
memory loss, we don’t know when—if ever—your memory will resurface. The best
advice I can give you is to take things one day at a time. Trust your family.
Trust yourself. Build a life for yourself starting today. You may never be the
same as you were before, and that’s okay. As imperfect as it is, life is a
gift.”
She
glared at her reflection. Some gift!
The
reflection in the mirror smiled at her.
She
stopped and looked. Was her mind playing tricks on her? She’d not been smiling,
and yet the face in the mirror had smiled. She frowned, and the reflection did
the same. She smiled. The reflection smiled back. Relief flooded through her,
making her feel giddy. Even though it was impossible … ridiculous. For a split
second, she’d had the impression that the girl in the mirror was not merely a
reflection, but another person—separate and disconnected. But it was only her
mind, playing tricks on her. “I must’ve whacked my head harder than I thought,”
she said out loud. She looked at her reflection in the mirror and made a few
faces, feeling instant relief as the reflection simultaneously mimicked her
movements. A laugh bubbled up in her throat. It was ridiculous getting this
worked up over her own reflection. She turned away from the mirror, but the
laugh stopped her cold. The reflection had laughed at her. She’d laughed once,
and the reflection had laughed back. Ever so slowly, she turned to the mirror,
dreading what she would see. There she was—pale face, hollow eyes staring back,
reflecting the fear that had returned with a vengeance. “Who are you?” she
whispered. The reflection remained unchanged. She touched the mirror,
half-expecting her finger to poke through it. It was solid and cold. She let
out a sigh. She was starting to have serious doubts about her sanity. A cold
sweat beaded across her forehead. A simple fall had thrown her into a coma. Her
memory was completely gone. Was she also losing her mind? She arose from the
dressing chair, backed away from the mirror, and sat down on the bed. She
focused on her breathing, averting her gaze from the dreaded mirror, but the
pull was too great. Her eyes went to the milky white, antique-finished mirror
that was attached to the dressing table. Her gaze then went to the matching
chair that was upholstered in a striped pattern of various shades of pink. She
studied the dressing table and mirror objectively, glad to have something other
than herself on which to focus her attention. The graceful curves, etched in
gold paint, were outlandishly formal in comparison to the walnut bed with its
straight, hard lines. It would’ve been more fitting in a mansion rather than a
teenage girl’s bedroom. She looked up to where a jeweled chandelier hung. At
least the dresser and chandelier matched, although the chandelier was also too
ornate for a bedroom. Her gaze went to the hot-pink, overstuffed chair with the
bold black roses. A purple and pink pillow dripping in orange fringe was the
crowning touch. And then there were the pale pink walls. Wow! It was obvious
that her taste in decor was a little off before the accident.
The
door burst open. Josselyn bounded
in and plopped down on the bed beside her. Her singsong voice floated through
the air. “Elle, what are you doing? Why are you just sitting here on the bed
like an imbecile, wringing your hands? I know you’re supposedly recovering, but
this head injury thing is getting to be a real drag.”
Elle
looked down at her hands. She gave her stepsister a weak smile. “I’m just
trying to figure out if I should wear my hair up or down tonight.” It took
effort to keep her voice light. It took effort to pretend to be the
self-absorbed, airy, socialite she’d apparently been before the accident.
Josselyn
smirked. “Now that sounds like the Elle I know. Yes, what could be more
important than your hair? You are, after all, the junior homecoming attendant.
Of course everyone will be gawking at you.” She motioned with her hand and
wrinkled her nose. “Although, I must say. You’ve got some work to do if you’re
expecting to transform that into your
usual perfect self. Are those sweatpants?”
“And
what’s wrong with sweatpants?”
“You
haven’t worn sweatpants since you were nine. You really are losing it. Mom said
you were, but I didn’t believe her …” her eyes raked over Elle “… until now.”
Blood
rushed to Elle’s face. “Oh, I didn’t realize. I just wanted to be comfortable.
I’m going to take a nap and I—”
“Enough
already! Who are you, and what have you done with my stepsister? The old Elle
would never stoop to apologies.”
“Oh.”
Every time she opened her mouth, everything seemed to come out wrong. How could
she be so different now from the person she was before?
Josselyn cocked her head, causing her corkscrew
curls to bounce. “Okay, let’s see the hair.”
Elle
swept up her long tresses and held them with her hands. “What do you think?”
“Up,”
she said decidedly.
“Okay,
up it is.”
Josselyn
rose from the bed and went over to the dress that was draped over the chair.
She held it up to herself and went to the mirror. “I thought you were going to
wear the yellow one because it highlights your hair.”
Elle
shrugged. “I changed my mind and decided to wear the blue one instead.”
Josselyn’s
lips formed a petulant frown. “But you hate blue.”
“I
do?”
“Yes,
you hate the way it brings out the color in your eyes.”
“Why
would I hate that?” This conversation wasn’t making any sense. Five minutes earlier,
she’d looked in the mirror and thought how her blue eyes were her best feature.
Josselyn gave her an impatient sigh and
then placed the dress back on the chair. “You don’t like your blue eyes. You
wish they were brown. In fact, you even once bought brown contacts to try and
cover them up, but they turned your eyes that hideous purple color. Do you
really not remember that?”
“No … I …” Elle’s
voice trailed off, and she looked away. Most of the time she pretended to
remember more than she did because it was too humiliating to admit that she
didn’t remember anything at all.
Josselyn sat back
down beside her. “Okay, let’s go over this again.” She spoke slowly and
exaggerated as if she were talking to a four-year-old. “Tonight is homecoming,
and you’re the eleventh grade attendant. Lynessa Miles, your archenemy since
third grade, ran against you. It was a tight race, but in the end, you won.
You’re blonde, popular, captain of the cheerleading squad, and you’re dating
Edward Kingsley, the quarterback. Have I left anything out?”
“No, I think
you’ve about covered it. Even my feeble mind can grasp its way around that,”
Elle snapped.
“Don’t get huffy
with me! It’s not my fault that you fell in the bathroom and lost your memory.”
“Well, you don’t
have to act so smug about it.” She may’ve lost her memory, but it didn’t take a
genius to figure out that she and Josselyn didn’t get along. Since her return
from the hospital, Josselyn had been downright hateful. Her stepmother, Sera, was cold, and her
father left town on a business trip the day after she returned home. Yes, they
were all one big happy family.
“Look, I can
appreciate that you’ve lost your memory, but I haven’t.” Josselyn trailed her
fingers through her hair. “Unlike you, I haven’t been able to forget all of the
horrible things you’ve done to me over the years.”
Elle rocked back.
“What’re you talking about?”
“Oh, let’s see,”
Josselyn feigned remembering even though it was obvious from her rapid-fire
responses that she kept the memory of the events close. “How about the time you told Jeremy
Stanford and the entire school that your chubby stepsister had a crush on him?”
“I did that?” Elle
asked cautiously.
“Uh huh. You
certainly did. But you didn’t stop there. The summer I lost thirty pounds, you
told Mom it was because I was taking diet pills. I was grounded for a month
over that.”
“You lost thirty
pounds?”
Josselyn rolled
her eyes. “Yes, Elle, I did. Old news.”
Elle started
twisting a lock of her hair. “Well, you look great.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“Were you taking
diet pills?”
She let out a
laugh. “Well, duh, who do you think got them for me?”
This was all
coming at her too fast. The implication was obvious. “I got them for you,” she
said flatly.
“See, your memory
is returning already.” Josselyn stood. “Anyway, Mom sent me up here to see if you
want to go shopping with us.”
Elle thought for a
minute. The homecoming game didn’t start until 7 p.m. and it was only 10 in the
morning. A little shopping might be nice.
“How long are we going to be gone?”
“Don’t worry,
we’ll be back in plenty of time for you to get beautified, if that’s what
you’re worried about.”
“Okay, let me get
changed and I’ll be right down.”
“See ya
downstairs.”
……………………………
“Good morning,
Sera,” Elle said when she entered the dining room.
Her stepmother didn’t
bother to look up. Instead, she took a long swig of coffee and kept her eyes on
the newspaper she was perusing. “You finally dragged yourself out of bed, I
see.”
“I’ve been up for
a while, I was just in my room.”
Sera looked at her.
“I see. Well, at least you finally put something on other than those dreadful
sweatpants you’ve been wearing.”
“I guess.” She
stood there awkwardly, not sure what to do next.
Sera seemed to
enjoy her discomfort. “Well, don’t just stand there. Go and get yourself
something to eat. Josselyn and I are going shopping.”
“Uh, yeah. I
thought I’d go with you guys … if that’s okay.”
Sera put down the
paper. She scrutinized Elle with a critical eye. “Of course you can go with us
… if you’re sure you’re up to it.”
“Yeah, I feel
fine.”
She cocked her
head. “You don’t look fine.”
Elle’s throat went
dry and she swallowed. “I feel fine.”
“Did you finish
all of your chores yesterday?”
Elle nodded and
then started ticking off the list of things she’d done. “I took out the
garbage, unloaded the dishwasher, and dusted the bookshelves. Plus, I dusted
the living room,” she added.
“It’s nice to see
you earning your keep around here. Did you clean the bathrooms and mop?”
Elle stopped short.
“Um, I thought that was Josselyn’s job.”
Sera stood and
smiled, but her eyes remained cold. “Elle, you know I assigned those chores to
you.”
Her heart bumped
up a notch and she thought back to the day before. While she may’ve lost her
memory of the past, she had no problem recalling the events of the last several
days since she’d come home from the hospital. She had no problem recalling the
cool and indifferent treatment she’d received from this frigid woman that was
her stepmother. She had no problem recalling the way that Sera’s forehead
wrinkled when she disagreed or the look of disapproval in her black, fathomless
eyes. “I distinctly remember you assigning those chores to Josselyn.”
Sera cocked her
head, and her expression was a mixture of surprise and annoyance. “Are you
questioning me?”
“I’m just saying
that you assigned those chores to Josselyn, not me. I did everything that you
asked me to.” Elle’s stomach lurched. The last thing she wanted to do was to
get into an argument with her stepmother. The woman was impossible! Everything
about her was hard and impenetrable, making her wonder what her father had
possibly seen in her. She was all hard angles, and there was nothing soft or
attractive about her. To make matters worse, she was not only Elle’s
stepmother, but also her aunt—her late mother’s older sister. When Elle’s mother
got sick, Sera came to take care of her, bringing along a young Josselyn. When
Elle’s mother passed away, her father had married Sera. Elle suspected that her
father had married Sera on the rebound because that was the only scenario that
made sense.
On the night she
returned home from the hospital, Sera and her father had sat side-by-side,
explaining the family dynamics to her. She’d asked them to see a photo album,
hoping that some scrap of memory would surface, but they’d given her some lame excuse
about how the photos had been damaged a few years earlier when the basement
flooded due to a busted pipe. In the end, the only photos they’d been able to
produce were taken a few months before the accident. Even if she’d been able to look at photos, she doubted that
she would recognize anything. Everyone around her was a stranger. Heck, she was
a stranger to herself, but there was one thing she knew. Even though Sera went
through the motions of pretending to care about Elle’s well-being, she obviously
didn’t. If only her father were here, he would understand. “When’s my dad
getting back?”
“Yes, if your
father were here, he’d most assuredly take your side as he always does.
Unfortunately, his flight got delayed, and he won’t be getting back from New York
until late tonight.”
Elle’s stomach
clutched. All week long, she’d been living for the moment when her father would
return. She didn’t realize it until this moment, but she’d been counting on him
being there to watch her walk across the field.
“Don’t stand there
sulking like a lost puppy. It’s a pity he’ll miss homecoming, but Josselyn and
I will be there.” She flashed a cool smile. “After all, we’re your family too.”
Her voice ran like syrup, but unlike syrup, there was nothing sweet about it—it
was all bitter.
Elle hated the
smug look on her face. She was obviously thrilled that her dad wouldn’t be
there to see her tonight. She swallowed back the disappointment and met Sera’s
eyes full on. “While I may not be able to remember everything, I do know that
my father loves me. That much I do remember.”
Sera let out a
nervous chuckle before reaching up to push a loose strand of hair back into her
severe bun. “Well, of course he
does, dear. What a silly thing to say. Now getting back to your chores.”
“Josselyn’s
chores. I did my chores.”
“Don’t you get
uppity with me, young lady.”
Elle blew out a
breath. Had things always been this difficult with Sera? “I’m not trying to
argue with you, Sera. Why don’t you ask Josselyn? We were both standing right
here when you gave us the assignments yesterday.”
“Very well, if you
insist.” She craned her neck and yelled, “Joss, get in here.”
A moment later,
Josselyn stepped into the room. “Yes, Mother. What is it?”
“Elle keeps
insisting that I gave you the assignment to clean the bathrooms yesterday.”
Josselyn’s eyes
went wide. “What?”
“You were standing
right beside me when she gave you the assignment.” Elle’s face was growing
hotter by the minute.
Josselyn was a
picture of innocence. “No, she assigned the bathrooms to you. She told me to
unload the dishwasher, take out the garbage, and dust the bookshelves. And
that’s exactly what I did.”
“What!” She wanted
to rip Josselyn’s head off. “How could you stand there and tell a boldfaced
lie! You didn’t do all of those things. I did!”
“Elle, why are you
saying all of these mean things? You weren’t feeling well, so you lay around
all day yesterday.”
“I did my chores
first, and you know it!” She glared at Josselyn, daring her to disagree.
Tears sprang to
Josselyn’s eyes. “Look how she treats me, Mother. She’s always so mean.”
Elle saw red. “I’m
being mean? You’re the one that’s standing here lying!”
“Enough!” Sera
boomed. “That will be enough from you, young lady!” She pointed at Elle. “I’m
going to tell you what you’re going to do. You’re going to clean all three
bathrooms and mop. And you’re going to do a thorough job! Furthermore, you are
to pull all of the dead flowers from the beds in the front yard. If it’s not
done by the time we get back from shopping, then you won’t go to the game
tonight—homecoming attendant or not! Do you understand?”
She was trapped.
Trapped in her own house by this horrible woman and her lying daughter. No
wonder she’d lost her memory. She’d probably chosen to block it all out because
it was too terrible to contemplate.
“Answer
me when I’m talking to you!” Sera demanded.
Elle
looked at Josselyn who wouldn’t meet her glare. “You win. I’ll do your stupid
chores.”
“Mother!”
Josselyn wailed. “She’s taunting me.”
Sera
placed a hand on Josselyn’s arm. “Never mind her, dear. It’s just noise.” Her
eyes met Elle’s. “Insignificant and useless noise.”
………...........
“Stupid flowers!
Stupid yard!” Elle plunged the spade into the earth, attacking the dead flowers
and yanking them out. It felt good to vent her frustration, even if it was only
at the beds. The more she thought about Sera and Josselyn, the madder she got.
How could her father possibly be happy with that insufferable woman? Being
around Sera made her wonder what her own mother had been like. Not like that
horrible woman … she hoped. After she’d cleaned the bathrooms and mopped, she
called her father, but he didn’t answer, so, she left him a voice message,
asking him what time his flight was getting in. Being left alone with the likes
of Sera and Josselyn was a miserable experience. Josselyn kept talking about
how horrible Elle had been, but seeing as how she’d just told a bold-faced lie,
it was evident that she couldn’t be believed or trusted. Then another thought entered her head. A
terrible thought that caused her heart to pound. A wave of dizziness enveloped
her. Was it possible she was remembering things incorrectly? She swallowed
hard, ignoring the way her palms had become sweaty against the spade. Mentally,
she ran through the events of the past two days. She distinctly remembered
doing those chores. She clutched the spade and thrust it viciously into the
dirt. Again and again she attacked the dirt. I’m not crazy! I’m not crazy! She repeated the words over and over
again in her mind, willing herself to go through the sequence of events from
the past couple of days until her head ached.
She was finishing
up the second flowerbed when she felt the sensation of being watched. She turned
toward the house next door and saw a guy standing on the front porch, leaning
against the column. Her eyes met his, and she could tell from his expression
that she was supposed to know him. The fact that he was very handsome didn’t
help matters. He was tall and lean with black wavy hair and eyes so intense
that she could feel the heat of them from across the yard. Her heart began to
pound. She couldn’t face trying to make polite conversation with him—not when
her head felt like it was about to explode. She looked away, but she could
still feel him standing there, staring at her. What? she wanted to scream. She looked at him again through
narrowed eyes. This time, there was a trace of amusement on his face. She
glared at him and was startled to see him chuckle. An unreasonable anger surged
through her. She threw down the spade and stood, her feet squared. “What do you
want?”
He raised an
eyebrow. “Do you really have to ask … Elle?”
The way he spoke
her name was almost a caress. The distance between them seemed to shrink, and
she became aware of the way his shirt fell along his muscular chest, the strong
curve of his jaw, the way his blue eyes sparked when he gave her the slightest
hint of a smile. Confusion clouded over her. These feelings. Where were they
coming from? She lifted her chin. “I don’t remember you,” she said with more
certainty than she felt.
“Well, that’s mighty
convenient.”
“What’re you talking
about?”
He flashed a smile
that disappeared as quickly as it had come. “I’m talking about this supposed memory loss thing, I’m just not
buying it, that’s all.”
She clenched her
fists to her side. “How dare you insinuate that I would pretend to lose …” She
shook her head. “Forget it!” She started running up the front steps to her
house.
“You know me,
Elle,” he yelled after her. “You know me!” she heard him say again as she went
inside, slamming the door behind her. For good measure, she turned and locked
it.
She ran her hands
through her hair and leaned against the door. He was right. She did know him.
Her heated reaction to him had come from some deep basic part of her—some primal
part that she could never let out. She shuddered. Where were these thoughts
coming from? She shook her head. Some
primal part that she could never let out? She really was losing it. He was
some random guy—a neighbor that enjoyed getting under her skin. That was all.
Even as she thought the words, she somehow knew that he was more. An image of
him, leaning against the column flashed through her mind. That knowing look in
his eyes. That cocky attitude. She shut her eyes, willing the image to
disappear. She may’ve lost her memory, but there was something about him that
scared her—scared her to the core. And somehow, in a way she couldn’t
understand, she knew that she must stay away from him. She went to her room and
threw herself down on the bed. A nap was what she needed—a nice long nap.
Everything would look better when she woke up. She closed her eyes and drifted
off. It was in that moment, right before sleep overtook her, that she
remembered his name—Rushton. His name was Rushton.