At First Glance

By Breeanna Mae Alessandra

In a world where time does not exist and cultural structure is fragile at best, a life will be changed by a stroke of luck and misfortune. Lives lost and lives anew will disrupt the flow of nature, twisting reality to the very point of breakage. Harlow Grimm is a young beautiful girl living as a poor peasant in a rural of a time that is now forgotten. She lives a modest, chaste, and innocent life every day humming about, living day to day with not a particular care in the world. She is in love, or so she thinks. Her mother has a secret, but her father is greedy and ruins the plan. When Jafar, a Prince with a dark lust, decides that he wants Harlow, neither her mother nor her fianc had the power to overcome the influence of dirty money. Harlows story is complicated. By a twist of fate, she would meet a man she did not understand and as Harlow begins to discover her true destiny, she falls.
Sometimes losing her mind, her journey over a short time, brings her to places she never thought she would go. In war, she conquered. In life, she shone. In love, she soared. Harlow Grimm is the brightest star. Merely a child, she faces adult situation and her doomed existence, knowing her nemesis is life itself. The writing on the wall, they say, is often seen, but we assume that writing is meant for someone else. Harlow had to see that it was her writing. She was forced to see that she was not just Harlow Grimm of Dash. In this story you will see that making judgments and rash decisions will lead you to sure demise. Nothing is ever as it seems, at first glance.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: May 23, 2012
• ISBN: 9781477101346

Breeanna Mae Alessandra

Breeanna Mae Alessandra is a student at Quakertown High School in Pennsylvania. A square dancer and a reader of all types of literature, she prides herself in being a stray from the regular. She draws inspiration from music, nature and her crazy friends. More than anything else, Bree enjoys writing and her thirst for knowledge is boundless.

Book preview

Copyright © 2012 by Breeanna Mae Alessandra.

Library of Congress Control Number:      2012907315

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

Xlibris Corporation

1-888-795-4274

www.Xlibris.com

[e-mail]

112287

Dedication

There are so many people that I want to thank, and the last thing I want to do is leave someone out. So what I’m going to do is drop some names like my friends Tori Dager for all of her insight, Rowan Reph for having a really cool name, Jared A. Godfrey, for being so critical about everything (seriously everything . . .), Billy Robbins, Brandon Diaz (specifically for taking my picture), my brother (Sgt) Paulie Alessandra, my uncle Timmy Decker, and everyone else that has taken me seriously through my writing, because I understand how easy it is brush off a teenager, a mere high school-er, who claims to have written a book. So . . . . basically . . . . Thanks Guys. I couldn’t have asked for better friends.

Nothing goes by luck in composition. It allows no tricks. The best you write is the best you are.

—Henry David Thoreau 

In this book, I use conventional time but not date.

1 Epoch = 1 Day

1 Cycle = 9 Epochs

1 Apogee = 4 Cycles

1 Zapato = 15 Apogee

(A Zapato is like a year and are used like a year. This makes people slightly older than it may appear. You can calculate it approximately by multiplying age in Zapatos by 1.4)

There are three moons that appear in the sky which are as follows:

1. Luman Voy (the second largest and gray)

2. Luman Ser (largest and extremely white)

3. Luman Venir (smallest and black).

The Apogees, which are like months, are called the following:

1. Eos

2. Ianthe

3. Kora

4. Hippolyte

5. Enyo

6. Kore

7. Thea

8. Media

9. Sapphira

10. Pallas

11. Timo

12. Xanthippe

13. Zosime

14. Lysandra

15. Lanio

Prologue

The All Knowing:

In a world where time does not exist and cultural structure is fragile at best, a life will be changed by a stroke of luck and misfortune. Lives lost and lives anew will disrupt the flow of nature, twisting reality to the very point of breakage. A prophecy, yet to be fulfilled by the lost innocence of a soul untamed, unknown, and underestimated by vulnerability. In this story you will see that making judgments and rash decisions will lead you to sure demise. Nothing is ever as it seems, at first glance.

Jafar:

In the land of Enza De Jue, a harsh and foul wind blew. My stomach churned as I rode into the town of Dash. It was a pitiful city. People lay on the sides of the streets like it was a marvelous inn in a fantastic city. Their filthy faces and nauseating aroma were disgusting. Wherefore must I travel all this way to visit such a repulsive town? Thankfully this hole of filth and vermin would soon no longer exist. I smiled at the thought and I stepped out from the carriage, for the horses needed to be watered, meaning I was to walk halfway across this wretched city on foot. The nerve.

Unexpectedly I was struck by her beauty. She was no older than fifteen, but good Lord, she was beautiful! A basket filled with gruesome half rotten fruits clutched in her arms. She wore a brown dress, long with a green trim obviously made by her own delicate, ladylike hands. She paused to curtsy, spilling the produce across the ground. I bent and picked up a single luscious green apple. I handed it to her and smiled, losing myself in her emerald green eyes. So beautiful, I thought, she’s just so beautiful. It was only a glance that took me by surprise. A glance from a woman that could not be human. She thanked me silently then hurried away, her cheeks hot with embarrassment. Oh how I wished only to reach and touch her. However, I continued to walk toward the largest building in the entire town that I supposed was the hall. I knew I had to talk politics. I could not be blinded by such petty affection. For reasons unknown, it seemed I only had that girl in mind. I must have her. I must, I must!

I came to the tall, rickety, mahogany door. I pounded upon the entrance way with malice, announcing my arrival. The doorman peered through a small eye hole, opening the door with great haste.

Please come in, Your Lordship Prince Jafar, Duke of Enza De Jue. Then away he padded into the main hall and called to the council, His Lordship Prince Jafar, Duke of Enza De Jue has arrived!

His Lordship the Prince? I scoffed. The Duke of Enza De Jue. I have become so sick of that title. Some Epoch when that old man kneels over the dead, I shall be addressed His majesty The King, and when that time comes to pass, this entire kingdom will be turned into the empire deserving its title, with her at my side.

I straightened my posture and strode in to address the council. The room was bleak, undecorated, except the mosque floor with matching ceiling that together depicted the story of the warrior Zefenous and the maiden Vandaline.

The maiden Vandaline was a beautiful woman who was stolen to the most vile and repulsive expanses of the underworld by the god Hades. Zefenous knew he was not within a stone’s toss of saving his lover from eternal damnation. He sought out the greatest evils and the darkest of magic to find a solution to his woes. He searched for all the Apogees of an entire Zapato. Most would suspect that his efforts had either been in vain or victorious. But nay it be either. He summoned the Great Gate and defeated Cerberus, the three-headed canine that guarded it.

Nigh a fort night passed when he found her, embellished in elegant, black trimmed burgundy and fuchsia gown. There was a mournful manner about her as she peered at Zefenous.

My dearest love, Vandaline, I have reached you even after this outstretched absence of our company. Take my hand and we shall leave this place.

However, she did not wish to leave with him.

Vandaline, what has he done to you?

She lowered her violet eyes, allowing strips of golden hair to fall over them. That is the incorrect question, Zefenous. You had more sense to ask what you have done to yourself.

For in his journey of lust for her passion and embrace, he had lost himself, and as he leered into a great mirror, he saw not himself but The Great God of Wine, gazing back; he had, in his unholy quest, become the soulless god himself.

A pitiful sort of thing in truth.

The council all stood and bowed, peering from high pews to where I stood in my fine silken, gold and sapphire royal dressings. I motioned for them all to be seated. I adjusted my custom velvet vest, then wiped my saturated though still devilishly perfect golden locks from my forehead. I began my repetitive lecture which had been written to briefly explain their fate.

Members of the council of the city of Dash, I address you this fine Epoch to inform you that in exactly three Cycles your town will be demolished to make a trading station for the military. The faces of the nine men of council twisted in hate and fear. But none spoke. That is all. I finished. Oh, and, please don’t tell the towns people. You’re all going to die here. I chucked and stepped out of the damp hot building.

The All Knowing:

Mama. The fair, olive-skinned beauty, with hair like setting sun, beckoned.

Harlow, back already, then? Have you got all the things I asked of you, child? her equally attractive mother answered. Her hair was far darker, more an auburn, and her eyes just the same shade of intense emerald green as her lovely daughter.

Alas, no, Mama. The baker only had muffins and dinner rolls, no loaves. I got three rolls. They were cheaper regardless. Then all they had were some apples, tomatoes, and a sad head of cabbage at the farmer’s stand. She set her basket down on the table inside the small kitchen of her family tavern.

Her father came barreling in, huffing and puffing with the heat due to his massive size. His big pot belly bounced with each step. Th-there you are, Ha-Harlow. Where have you been off to?

The market, Father. Where else?

I don’t know, but go fix yourself up nice. It’s a bargain night. You have to go up and sing. That blue dress of yours will do.

If anything, you can bring in a crowd, Harlow. Her mother laughed, then saw the disapproving look of Victor and ended her jest. Ah, is Darian coming over today? she asked, cleverly changing the subject.

Of course, he is, Mama. Darian comes over every day.

When are you two going to marry, huh? I can’t be feeding you for the rest of your life, Victor said crudely.

Oh, Father. Harlow laughed musically. Just then, her childhood friend and now fiancé Darian knocked and came into the kitchen where everyone had begun to gather.

Hi there. He smiled his charming smile. Harlow straightened his ruffled black hair and further exposed his dazzling blue eyes. He kissed her on the cheek, and she grew red in the face.

Out! Out of my kitchen, little smooches. Her mother shooed them out.

They laughed and ran out into the market square and played like children, not really knowing that children were all they truly remained just then.

HarlowStanding.jpg

Jafar:

I walked around the accursed town for hours looking for that girl. I had no leads and was about to retire. She was unseen and as beautiful as she was, perhaps we were just not meant to be.

Then with suddenness that struck me in awe, I heard a sweet song coming from a tavern. I peeked through the door to see the beautiful girl singing with grace. She wore a dark blue dress with a periwinkle trim. Her long crimson hair was tied to a crown braid. When the song was over, the crowd applauded her angelic sound. I then opened the door to see a ramshackle bar filled with an undesirable crowd of heathens. I walked in sitting as close as I could. Everyone turned to look at me and the music came to an abrupt halt.

Please continue, I told her as everyone, including she, bowed respectfully and went back to watching her. She sang song after beautiful song until eleven in the night. After she stepped off the stage she walked behind the bar counter and got a glass of water, then went out a back door. I stood and followed her.

At first she did not acknowledge my presence. I cleared my throat, causing her to jump and drop her glass. The shattering sound caused the innkeeper to run back. You’re Lordship Prince Jafar. What is the meaning of this? he said almost annoyed, but still bowing in my presence.

Ah, I cleverly began, I cannot lie. I came back to see your daughter. Her voice is beautiful. I wish to take her hand in marriage. I could barely hold in my laughter as their faces stared in awe. Her mother looked as though she could have hit me.

But we have promised her to someone else, Your Lordship. I’m sorry. Her mother stepped in.

And even so, her father began once more, she is just fourteen, and you, sir, are—

Older, I know, but please mind my request. I will make sure to send you your due share to surface.

Do you then mean to say you wish to buy our daughter? That’s absurd!

Ten thousand Zarll. I offered.

Ten thousand? He peered into his wife’s gorgeous green eyes. Her auburn locks seemed to be the only difference from her and her extravagant daughter. We cannot possibly deny this, my dear. He and his wife augured, but at last came to a conclusion. Ten thousand it is.

Father! she protested.

Don’t fret, darling Harlow. I’m sure he’ll take wonderful care of you, won’t you, Your Lordship Jafar?

Of course, I shall take exquisite care of your delectable Harlow.

Darling, gather your things, her mother said, pushing her along and then following her into a small bedroom in a great hurry.

I shall send you a payment by the end of next Apogee. Is that sufficient?

Her hairy chested father then replied greedily, That is fine, and will she be visiting often or shall we come to the castle?

I’m sorry, I didn’t make it clear. You will never see her again. With that I opened the bedroom door and grabbed her arm, pulling her with great haste from the room. As I did so, it seemed as if her mother had been trying to tell her something of great importance, horrified by my interference.

Too bad she would now never have that chance to know. Come. We’re leaving. I shall buy you new things. I dragged her from the inn as she screamed and thrashed, tears running down her pink face.

Darian! Darian, help me please! she wailed.

In the name of sanity, woman, shut the hell up! I threw her into the cabin of my carriage. As I went to follow, I was grabbed by the arm and spun around, readily feeling a firm punch in the face. I knocked into the carriage very hard. I looked up to see the silhouette of a tall masculine boy with ruffled black hair as he was apprehended by an officer.

I’ll get you back, Harly! I swear. I swear upon my own life! he called past me as I climbed up into the cabin and closed the door, lighting a lantern to see Harlow huddled into a ball on the floor.

Harly. Is that your nick name? The carriage lurched toward the capital city.

You are never to call me that! She expelled a glare at me that nearly cut directly through my skull.

Awe, what a pretty name, Harly, Harly, Harly, I mocked, laughing more furiously as her vexation grew. I failed to notice the light of the lantern vanish. I was knocked by a blunt force in my perfect face, splitting my lower lip. It failed register before I was thrown to the floor. She grabbed my wrists and pushed them up my back to pin me.

Why are you doing this to me? Why me? I felt her hot tears against my neck.

Because, you are just so beautiful.

Hogwash! I want the truth, damn it! she demanded, smashing my head against the hard cabin floor. She was oddly strong for a petite girl.

Don’t you get it? I came to Dash to inform the council of its planned demolishment. You could have been killed with everyone else in that filthy hole. I saved you.

You shouldn’t have saved me. You’re a monster, she cried, a rotten monster.

This is how you repay me for your life? You ungrateful little—

I would rather die than be your little play thing.

Have you been robbed of your senses? I’ll make you my queen.

I don’t want to be a queen. Blood pooled under my face.

Shock bubbled under my skin. Then what do you want?

I want Darian. My life is with him, here or in the after-world.

Darian? The tall ignoramus? I couldn’t help but laugh. He’s a boy, Harlow. I am a man!

You’re shy half the man Darian is, she spat bitterly.

I pushed her off, grabbing her by the neck and slapping her across the face. Know your place, filthy wench!

That was the last thing I said for the remainder of the hot two-Epoch-long ride, the blood unable to dry on my drenched features. She refused to eat anything. Foolish woman.

Welcome to your castle, Harlow, I had told her when we reached our destination. I stood and stretched, accepting the cool breeze.

I want to go home, she said with a freakish lack of emotion.

Listen, girl, my agitation leaked into every word, this is the only home you will ever have, so deal with it.

You are a fiend.

No. I’m a prince, I corrected.

Is there a difference?

I sent her with Jenkins, the butler, to my room to make herself comfortable.

Woman, I muttered, stepping into the parlor where my father sat reading an age old novel by a single lit candle. Old man, I yelled.

His long white hair was tied up, but as he raised his head, a few strands fell over his spectacles.

Is something wrong, Jafar? He closed the book and set it on a desk.

I have chosen my queen, Father, the most beautiful woman.

And you find something wrong with that, Jafar?

She doesn’t want to be queen. She wants to go be with some boy named Darian.

Jafar, is she married? he asked playfully scolding me.

No. He stared at the wall in thought.

Let someone a little wiser speak with her. I’m sure she’s very scared and confused right now.

Very well then.

Oh and, Jafar, mind how much you drink. You’re known to be a little savage when you have had one too many.

With that he left to see Harlow. I grabbed the liquor and didn’t bother to get a glass.

Harlow:

The large, cream-colored bedspread was trimmed gold and burgundy. A fresh night dress lay on the bed. I assumed it to be unwise, but against my better judgment, I stripped from my grimy bule dress, now torn at the edges and put on the clean nightware.

I now understand why my son desires you.

I spun around in fright. An old man stood in the doorway, dressed royally, who resembled the statues and paintings of our fair King Abaddon. Only he seemed more aged and quite less fair. How old are you, miss? he inquired.

I swallowed hard. I’m fourteen, I answered. My word, he’d seen me naked. How embarrassing. I could feel the blood rushing into my face.

I believe my son has made a misjudgment. He is quite the womanizer, but he has never gone after someone so very young. He sat in a satin-lined chair. Did you know that he is twenty-six?

No way, he’s so

Reviews for At First Glance

[wwwwolf-1 · Rating: 2 out of 5 stars]

Hooboy, another self-published book. Quality is usually inevitably going to be variable in self-published books, so let's start, shall we?This is a story of Harlow Grimm, a Protagonist, who is a girl of modest origins and turns out to be destined to defeat the big evil baddie.And that's about as far as I can reveal the plot.The book originally came to my attention through the website Conjugal Felicity, whose maintainer is currently sporking this book. And yes, a quite spork-worthy book it is. I figured I might as well go and buy the Kindle version and laugh along. (You've got to be suspicious when Kindle store prices books at a special sale price of $3.50. It's a trick. You don't want to give anyone a three fiddy. They just come begging for more.)Yet, I have to say I'm not *totally* laughing along. Mostly because the writing attempts here remind me of the epic cringeworthiness of my own first attempts at writing a novel - and I'm glad this happened in 1990s before self-publishing became so easy, and that I also recognised at the time that my novel was so terrible it should not have left the drawer. That said, I didn't quite manage to match the worst parts of *this* novel.I'm giving this book a single star for production values. And a half a star for a good effort. I need to write a bigger rationale for that, of course.Let's tackle the first thing first: what *isn't* terrible in this book? I appreciate the *attempts* at worldbuilding. I appreciate the *attempts* at making a good story here. I can easily see here that the author has at least given a darn good shot at getting the story going, but her experience, or lack of it, only goes so far. There's plenty of stuff going on in the novel and it's kind of complex. Too bad a whole lot of it isn't too *logical*. (For example, there's a cunning assassination plot that fails due to general unintentional dumbness. The failure *isn't* dramatic.)And that of course brings us to the terrible parts. It's a self-published book, and this is unfortunately a title that would have netted tons and tons and tons of red pen scribblings on it if it had been *actually edited*. Plainly put, I just believe that the book would have needed a lot, lot more work on it before it was even close to the quality of it being released.This book reads like a good first draft of a book. There's just too much quibbles about little details that make the book unintentionally funny or a bit creepy, and not in a good way.Allow me to put this fair warning in most diplomatic terms imaginable: The book features a subplot where the protagonist's evil marital rapist reforms and becomes one of the good guys and the protagonist actually re-marries him like nothing happened. Suffice to say it's *not* exactly handled with all due plausibility and, shall we say, thoughtful *gravity* such plot would require. *To put it very very mildly.*It also doesn't help that the spelling is all wonky. (For example, I was not aware that wolves like to lick mussels! I know wolves eat salmon, but as far as I know, they're are not huge fans of seafood, because fishing tend to be difficult with paws and fangs. But wolves are super-cute when they carry food in their muzzles, even if it's mussels!)Another small quibble is that the worldbuilding isn't exactly thorough. I had a bit of a problem starting to read the story - it took a while until all the alarm bells were ringing and I could actually place the book in "fantasy set in a lost mythological era in Earth" genre. The places and people aren't exactly well detailed. The milieu just doesn't have all the proper hooks, which is a shame, because the author probably *thought* about them. Just didn't bother to actually put them in the stories. Conspicuously enough the story puts a lot of effort on clothing, but not really *any* effort on cities and locations.Also, I was kind of disappointed to find out that the only joke I actually laughed at was actually ripped off from television. Again, reminds me of my own terrible novel and why I wouldn't publish it nowadays. Aspiring authors should be reminded that writing your own funny jokes isn't that difficult, you only need a bit of experience. Practice, practice!Finally, the formatting of the ebook, and the novel in general, was a bit wonky.This is all a little bit of shame. If the author would have taken a whole bunch of time to refine the novel, and increase the general give-a-damn-itude, I'd have easily slapped three stars on this, just because there's certainly at least a minimum appreciable effort to built a plot that isn't quite as cliched as the overall structure would suggest.In summary, it's not a worthless book, but the flaws, which *could* have been avoided if the book had been further refined, come across as a little bit funny. The inexperience *really* shows here, and I think new authors should put a *lot* of work in the first books they decide to publish. I really do hope the author succeeds better in the future and won't let the criticism keep her down.