His Voice - Ellie James"A funny thing happened when I sat down to write FRAGILE DARKNESS.The Midnight Dragonfly series tells the story of sixteen-year-old Trinity Monsour, through Trinity’s narration. The reader knows what Trinity knows. Things that are a mystery to Trinity are a mystery to the reader. Secrets are secrets. However, when it came time to write Fragile Darkness, I had someone else distracting me. Every time I tried to write a scene, he wanted to take over. He had something to say it turns out, and he wanted a voice. My editor and I talked it over, and as much as we wanted to know what he had to say, we decided we couldn’t change the story telling method this deep into the series. These are Trinity’s books, and he couldn’t just barge in and take over…even if that’s exactly what he was doing.As the story progressed I found ways to get his story out there, but all this time he’s been whispering in my ear, whispering…whispering… And you know, a girl can only resist for so long, right? Especially with someone….um…as persuasive as he is.So, I surrender. Here it is. My white flag—his voice."
Secret Scene 1 of 5
"He awoke to the sound of music. He lay without moving, not even opening his eyes. He didn’t need to. He knew what he would see. Once the soft strains had been a constant in his life, his nights. But for a long time there’d been only silence.
He’d been dreaming. He was sure of it. His heart was slamming way too fast, the way it did when he raced the dogs along the levee. Even in absolute stillness, his breath ripped in and out. But he had no memory of where he’d been or what he’d seen, why he had the crazy urge to get on his bike and ride.
Centering himself, he concentrated on slowing everything down. It was a skill that served him well.
He was being watched. He knew that, too. Opening his eyes, he automatically reached for the big Siamese crouched in on the pillow next to him. The cat’s fur was short and wiry, his gaze round and blue and timeless, his purr barely discernible.
Restless, he rolled from bed and yanked on his jeans, not bothering to fasten them as he grabbed his blade and slipped into the darkness of his father’s house. He didn’t need light or sound to know that Bakta followed.
At the front, he deactivated the security system, undid a series of deadbolts, and opened first the solid oak door, then the screen. Both creaked, even though the house was only a few years old.
Outside, a warm muggy breeze swirled in from the river, flowing quietly behind a wall of cypress and oak. His mother’s wind chimes, fastened from her grandmother’s silver spoons, tinkled in the breeze. Above her favorite Virgin Mary statue, a dream catcher dangled.
The house was new, but the arrangement of the front porch was identical to the one of his childhood.
He didn’t need to whistle for the dogs to come. Elvis and Neville trotted up the three wood steps like they always did, silently settling down on either side of him. They were relaxed, sleepy even, telling him that no one his in the shadows. But, gripping the rail, he couldn’t stop looking.
He had no idea for what.
There was no reason he should have shifted to his left, near the last wooden column. The movement was too subtle. It shouldn’t have caught his eye.
But it wasn’t his eye that it caught.
In the shift of shadows, a lone dragonfly hovered against the breeze.
Instinctively he lifted his hand, and the iridescent creature fluttered closer, hesitating only briefly before landing along his index finger.
Again he became aware of being watched, but several minutes passed before his father crossed the porch.
The dragonfly did not fly away.
“You feel it, don’t you?” his father asked.
He stared off toward a skeletal cypress tree, still fighting to recover all these years after the storm.
“There’s something you need to know.”
Now he turned, his eyes meeting the stark silver of his father’s, so very much like his own.
“ I talked to Joe today,” his father said. “A few days ago a sixteen year old girl went missing—”
“The one from Enduring Grace.” He’d heard it on the news.
His father nodded. “And another girl came forward—”
Instinctively he went very, very still.
“She says she had a dream,” his father said slowly, watching him, studying. “…that she the girl in a dream.”
No. That’s what he wanted to say. No. It’s not her. It can’t be. There was no way that was possible. She’d been gone for a long time—fourteen years. She was far away. Safe.
But the words wouldn’t form. Because finally he knew. Finally he understood the restlessness.
Against his chest the wind swirled, softer now, warmer.
“She’s going to need us,” his father said. Long, silver strands of hair slapped at his face. “Need you.”
Memories crashed in on him, of the last time he’d seen her, with her hair pulled back in a high pony tail and her big golden retriever at her side, gazing up at him as she tried valiantly to hide the glaze of sadness in her eyes.
“You’ll come back, won’t you?” she said. “Next year?”
He’d known what she was feeling, exactly what she was feeling. Without a word or a look, a touch, he’d known. Happiness, fear, terror. Sorrow. Love.
And he’d known he could never go back.
“That was a long time ago,” he said quietly. They’d been only kids.
His dad’s smile was tight. “Time doesn’t change anything.”
He knew that. That was the problem, the danger. “She shouldn’t be here.” She didn’t belong. That’s what he told himself. This was the last place he wanted her to be. But those were both lies. She did belong, and—
The and didn’t matter. It was wrong. Dangerous. The years and miles between them were more like lifetimes.
“Why would Miss Rose let her anywhere near New Orleans?” he asked, not even trying to hide the rough scrape of his voice.
But he didn’t need his dad to answer. He already knew. He’d always known.
Life could only stay paused for so long. Sooner or later, the sun always emerged from hiding, its light seeping against the darkness.
Destiny was destiny, and it always found a way."
About Ellie James"Most people who know Ellie think she’s your nice, average wife and mom of two little kids. They see someone who does all that normal stuff, like grocery shopping, going to soccer games, and somehow always forgetting to get the house cleaned and laundry done.What they don't know is that more often than not, this LSU J-School alum is somewhere far, far away, deeply embroiled in solving a riddle or puzzle or crime, testing the limits of possibility, exploring the unexplained, and holding her breath while two people fall in love.Regardless of which world Ellie’s in, she loves rain and wind and thunder and lightning; the first warm kiss of spring and the first cool whisper of fall; family, friends, and animals; dreams and happy endings; Lost and Fringe; Arcade Fire and Dave Matthews, and last but not least…warm gooey chocolate chip cookies.You can follow Ellie on Facebook at: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Midnight-Dragonfly-Books-by-Ellie-James/154988421236309Her next book, FRAGILE DARKNESS, is available from Griffin Teen November 27, 2012."
About the Midnight Dragonfly Series
"Glimpses. That’s all they are. Shadowy premonitions flickering through sixteen year old psychic Trinity Monsour’s dreams. Some terrify: a girl screaming, a knife lifting, a body in the grass. But others--the dark, tortured eyes and the shattering kiss, the promise of forever--whisper to her soul. They come without warning. They come without detail.
But they always mean the same thing: The clock is ticking, and only Trinity can stop it.
Find out how in Shattered Dreams, Broken Illusions, and Fragile Darkness, available from Griffin Teen!"
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Thursday November 15 Candace's Book Blog
Friday November 16 I Love to Read Books
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