Original Works

Puteri & The Frog [12 Genre Months]

Once upon a time, there lived a princess in a white-bricked, two-storey house, complete with a shaded front porch and a tiddly garden. She had light brown eyes, thin lips, and a sprinkle of freckles—a reflection of innocence on her small, youthful face, framed by her short dark brown locks from her mixed heritage. She was like every other child, except for her name—her mother called her Puteri.

Puteri’s favourite past-time was an evening in the neighbourhood park—a gathering ground for the city-dwelling children to be one with Mother Nature. Every Friday, Puteri would bring her golden ball to the field, adjacent to a lotus pond, to toss, kick, and bounce. As she wasn’t very fond of the playground’s swings and slides, Puteri preferred her more solitude activity away from the other children. But on one fateful evening, to her dismay, her golden ball went bouncing into the still water.

“Do you need a hand?” a voice asked.

Puteri hadn’t noticed anyone else around—jumping startled at the sudden intrusion of her quiet playtime. Looking up from where her golden ball had disappeared into, she saw the owner of the voice—he stood across the pond with wide curious eyes, as though he’d never seen a girl before.

“Yes,” Puteri replied. “Can you retrieve my ball for me?”

“If I do so, will you be my friend?” he asked.

“Why do you need a friend?” Puteri frowned. She didn’t understand why friends were important—she enjoyed her own company and that alone was enough.

“I don’t like playing by myself,” he said.

“I do,” Puteri stated. “But if you don’t like playing by yourself, why don’t you go and make friends?”

“No one will play with me.”

“I see.” Puteri had no interest in being the strange creature’s friend, but she didn’t want to wade through the dark water either. So, for the sake of her beloved golden ball, she said, “I’ll be your friend if you retrieve my ball.”

“You will?” He beamed.

“Yes.” Puteri nodded and pointed to where her ball had sunken. “It’s somewhere over there.”

“At your service, princess,” he replied, promptly entering the pond.

The still water wasn’t as deep as Puteri had imagined—her imagination often wilder than her dreams. Once she was handed her golden ball, Puteri said, “Thank you.” Not waiting for a response, she promptly turned on her heel—ready to break her promise.

“Wait,” he said. “Aren’t you going to play with me?”

“Maybe next week,” Puteri hastily replied, before running home.

Puteri hoped to never see the frog again—his big round eyes, Cheshire-like grin, and stubby frame were perhaps the reasons why he had no friends. Alas, when the next Friday rolled around, there he was again.

“Hi,” he said, with a wide smile. “Do you want to play?”

“I-”

“You promised,” he said.

“I didn’t promise anything. I said, maybe,” Puteri stated.

“But you said you’ll be my friend,” he insisted. “We can toss your ball, and if it falls into the pond again, I’ll get it for you.”

Puteri hesitated. Then seeing how his excitement began to turn into disappointment—the mien of a broken heart—she said, “Fine. One game. Just one game.”

“Thank you,” he said. “We don’t have to talk if you don’t want to.”

Puteri nodded and tossed him her golden ball. For a while, the two played without a word—the golden ball bouncing back and forth, while the shouts and laughter of the other children filled the silence. It was a bizarre game but Puteri slowly came to enjoy his company—simply having someone to toss the ball to brought comfort. And it was then that Puteri entertained the idea of keeping a friend—to have someone who truly wanted her around. Alas, before she could ask her first friend for his name, the clouds began to grumble.

“Puteri,” her handmaid called. “It’s going to rain. Let’s go home.”

“I have to go,” Puteri stated, just as her golden ball bounced into her arms.

“Next week?” he prompted

“Sure,” Puteri replied with a smile.

“Let’s go, Puteri,” her handmaid repeated, reaching for Puteri’s hand. “Who are you talking to?”

“My friend,” Puteri said.

“Your friend?” her handmaid asked, bewildered as she glanced around. “Where?”

Puteri pointed to the pond where he sat poised on a floating lotus leaf, bearing the same curious gaze as though he’d never seen a woman before.

“The frog?” her handmaid asked.

“Yes. He’s my friend.”

Her handmaid chuckled. “Frogs make good friends,” her handmaid said. “Come now.”

“Is mummy coming home for dinner?” Puteri asked. Her mother often encouraged her to make friends—it would excite her to learn that Puteri had actually made one.

“Not tonight, dear,” her handmaid said.

“And daddy?”

Her handmaid gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “Maybe next week. Your mommy and daddy are very busy people.”

“I know.”

“You’ll have dinner with me tonight and we can talk all about your new friend, all right?”

Puteri nodded. She would rather have dinner with her friend, but she doubted her parents would let her bring him home. Though, would they notice if she did? They were rarely around. The only thing that was of them was the golden ball. And that itself was merely a reminder of their existence. At the very least, it made her… a friend.


12 Genre Months © 2019 by Jeyna Grace. All rights reserved.

(Click HERE for the list of stories in this writing challenge.)

Original Works

The Little God [12 Genre Months]

In the Celestial Court, amidst the infinite stars, there were many gods—beastly and titanic, dainty and diaphanous, faceless and elemental. They were beings of great achievements—creators of many worlds—except for one, the Little God. The Little God was often in the shadows, seemingly of little importance. No other had ever lowered their gaze in acknowledgement as she had done nothing of significance. After all, her only attribute was bearing the innocence of creation.

Unlike the gods who wore their own divine flesh, the Little God carried the faces of babes, mimicking the youthful stature of a myriad of opuses. She was as little as her name—too small for grandeur. But at that particular time—that turn of the millennium—the Little God lingered not in the periphery. For in the rise of chaos that preceded a new dawn, the Little God spoke.

The Little God had not once spoken since the conception of time. Her gentle voice commanded no authority in the Celestial Court—her words inevitably falling on deaf ears. However, the gods were failing. When their creations refused change, the gods could not forge a new beginning. And should there be no resolve for the resistance, the ethereal beings would lose their purpose. They would no longer be gods—unable to wield the power of the universe, they would cease to exist. Thus, a little bravery was warranted. Thus, the Little God said, “Let me.”

Let me grace the worlds and remind creation of their genesis. Let me show them the finer masterpiece that awaits. Let me help them believe again.”

“Do you think our creations will listen to you—a Little God trapped in the past?” the Colossal One, with white scales and black beady eyes, said. “You are of paradoxical nature to our plan.”

“Am I?” the Little God asked. “To grasp the beginning is to release the future. And as paradoxical as it may seem, I am the reflection of dawn—both yesterday’s and tomorrow’s.”

The Colossal One parted his lips. But instead of words, he hissed in reply—the Little God presented not a juvenile solution. “My very nature, of innocence and youth, is what we need,” the Little God added. “Your creations have lost the child within, and only I can help them remember.”

“Alas, we cannot be sure,” the Eidolon said—her form a silhouette, drowning in radiant light. “If we send you to our creations and you fail, we will all come to an end. We do not have time for such uncertainty.”

“But I am certain,” the Little God insisted. “Do you not trust me?” Unfortunately, the Little God knew the answer to her question the moment it left her lips. None of the other gods would trust her with this mission. None of them believed she was capable. Despite aeons of wisdom, The Little God appeared as a little one—young and foolish. “Please,” the Little God said. “Do not judge me by my appearance.”

“How can we not when your stature is the reason you fail to create? You can barely reach for the stars above—your hands unable to sustain their weight,” the Colossal One challenged. “We do not wish to look down upon you, Little God. Alas, you are what you are.”

“I may not be able to snatch the stars and wield the power they home, that is true. But I can reach into your worlds and speak into those souls—I can do what you can with your creations. Why not let me try?”

Murmurs filled the Celestial Court. The gods whispered amongst themselves and the Little God felt a pinch of hope. Perhaps they would finally accept her, looking past her childlike demeanour and believing she was just like them—a god in nature. If enough of them stood by her side, she could finally show the universe what she was truly capable of.

“I am sorry,” the Eidolon said. “I cannot believe in you, Little God.”

“Neither can I,” the Colossal One added.

“Why?” the Little God asked. “I am just like you. I can do great things.”

“You are just… too little,” the Eidolon replied. “Maybe one day, when you are able to seize a star from the universe, we will entrust our future in your hands. But for now, you shall remain where you are.”

The Celestial Court echoed in agreement and the Little God was silenced. She knew that she would never be what they wanted her to be—it wasn’t her destiny to create. The Little God had a different path—one that could save their very kind. Unfortunately, she was given no chance to prove herself worthy. The Little God would remain little… until the end of time.


12 Genre Months © 2019 by Jeyna Grace. All rights reserved.

(Click HERE for the list of stories in this writing challenge.)

Others

Let’s Go To War

letsgotowar

*This is a special note to those who have supported The Battle for Oz. If you’ve not supported the book, READ ANYWAY.

1,000 copies sold!

I’ve hit a milestone in my publishing career that I’ve been dreaming of for a long time. Thank you for being a part of this journey and helping me accomplish this feat 🙂 I have never sold this many books before, that’s for sure. So thank you, thank you, thank you!

That being said, the question that begs to be answered now is, will it be possible to sell another 1,000 copies?

I say, yes. If and only if you’re still willing to stand beside me. I need an army to fight my way in this competitive publishing industry, and I could really use your help. Will you enlist?

If you think I’m worth partnering, if you think this war is worth fighting, here’s what I need you to do:

#1 Share The Battle for Oz with your friends.
Conveniently, the book can be bought on Amazon and Barnes & Noble at a lower price. The cover is also green… which makes for an awesome Christmas present! (Look —>)

#2 Leave reviews.
On Amazon.
On Goodreads.
And on your own blog, if you own one.

These are the only two things I need from you. I can only do so much, but you can help me do more. So, I’m leaving it in your hands.

You’re in command of this battle now, General. Should we go for war? It’s your call.

On a side note, The Battle for Oz was pitched to United Talent Agency. This book needs to get more attention should it stand a chance at becoming a movie! This fight might be all it needs, and this fight needs you.

(If you read this and have yet to get your copy of The Battle for Oz, please check the book out! You might like it. You really might. You might end up loving it, for all I know. So please, pretty please, give it a look.)

Others

3,900 Raindrops

3900raindrops

If the rain slowed down for you, how long would it take to collect 3,900 raindrops? Much faster than it is obtaining 3,900 subscribers… but much less valuable. Now forget the strange question while I tell you how amazing you guys are. Yes, you guys are awesome!

Thank you so much for subscribing to my blog, if awesomeness had a face, it would be yours. I appreciate your readership and your support, and I am grateful for all of you. I always refrain from comparing my blog with other bigger blogs because I really have nothing to complain or be upset about. Having all of you makes my day and I am happy just knowing people read my works 🙂 Thank you so much!

So, how shall I celebrate this achievement?

I’ve decided to release my ‘much-anticipated’ (I hope it was) novella, Raindrops!

Raindrops Cover

I wrote Raindrops for the 30-hour novel challenge by Kernel Magazine and Harper Collins in January 2013. I spent a weekend writing over 20k words with barely any sleep. I remember typing away in the darkness hoping to complete this challenge. Even though I did not win the competition, I was proud of myself. The tired eyes, sore back, and aching wrists were all worth it. So after the competition, I decided to self-publish it… and to give it to my readers for free.

Why free? Because I worked hard on it and it would be a shame if no one reads it. I just want as many people to read it as possible. I’m hoping my story inspires and entertains, and that comes first before profit.

That being said, Raindrops will only be free until the middle of the year. Once The Battle For Oz: Exitium is released, I will put a price tag on Raindrops. I hope you understand that a self-pub author constantly struggles on putting a price on their books, because ‘free’ has its downsides too.

Now, how to download the e-book?

Click HERE and you will be taken to the download page. All you have to do is insert ‘0’ into the ‘Name a fair price’ column and you are set. There’s no need to fill in credit card details, just simply provide your email address and you will be able to download the book immediately.

But, if you wish to support me for working hours, days, and months on the book… you can name whatever price you wish to pay for the book and proceed with filling out your credit card details. You don’t have to, but if you want to, I just want to say thank you in advance. It means the world to me knowing you would pay for my work 🙂

Ok, now you’re probably wondering what Raindrops is about. Here’s the synopsis that I hope gets you interested:

What would you do if the rain slowed down for you?

Robb was no ordinary boy. He did not look like the other children in Scriptorium and he did not fit in either. Despite being only 12 years old, Robb had long accepted his fate as an outcast. But on one rainy afternoon, Robb saw a face of a girl that looked just like him in a raindrop. Will Robb be able to unravel the magic in rain and unlock the secret of his past? An adventure awaits this lost boy, but a very slippery one for that matter.

Sounds cool? Download it now! It may be targeted for young readers, but we are all young at heart 🙂 You are not an exception!

Last but not least, I wanna thank Danielle and Tham for helping design the cover art. Danielle did the cover art traditionally with colour pencils and water colour, while Tham added on to it and digitalized it. The two of them are very talented artists and they deserve an applause. Thanks guys, for helping me out 🙂 I’m glad God put such talented people in my life.

Well, that is all for this post! Thank you for your subscription and thank you for reading Raindrops! I hope you enjoy it and if you have a Goodreads account, please leave a review after you’ve swept through the pages 🙂

Have a great weekend everyone and happy reading!

Others

One, Eight Hundred

1800

That was fast! It’s barely a month and I’ve gotten another hundred subscribers. At this rate, I’ll be hitting 2k before my free e-book is done!

You’re probably thinking, What free e-book? You’ve never mentioned a free e-book before.

Well, if you follow me on Twitter or liked me on Facebook, you would know that I’m planning on giving out a free e-book at my 2k subscriber count. This free e-book is a new short story I’ve written (not as short as the ones on this blog, of course) and will contain lots of illustrations. I have a designer friend who would be drawing and laying out the entire short story book, and he’s already working on some sketches! (I’m not too sure if we can get the book out when I hit 2k subs, but we’ll definitely make it before Christmas.)

Once the book is ready, I’ll upload it somewhere for all of you to download… for free. It’ll be free till… well, as long as I make it free, which would probably be for quite some time. I’ll make an announcement on this blog, my Facebook page, and my Twitter so no one misses it.

Personally, I’m really excited about this book, mainly because I can’t wait to see how my imagination comes to life in my friend’s drawings. That’s the fun part of making it a picture story book 🙂 The concept I had in mind was something like The Little Prince. And if you have read it, you would know its written and laid out like a children’s book but it has a lot of adult themes… making it philosophical. I don’t know if I’ve managed to make this one philosophical, but I did address adult themes in a children’s setting. Yes, it sounds very different from what I normally do, but I really hope you’ll like it 🙂

Anyways, moving on to you guys. I just wanna thank everyone who subscribed to me. It means a lot, and every reader matters to me. Thanks for showing your support and thanks for reading. I won’t be here without my readers, and I appreciate all the time you spent on my work. You guys are awesome! I cannot say all these enough 🙂

Well, that’s about it. I might do another video for my 2k subscriber count, but I still don’t have an editing software in my laptop… so, I’ll see how it goes.

Till the next ‘thank you/update’ post, have a great week!

Original Works

The Family Guy

The Family Guy

“I’m Monica Rivers from Channel 4, wishing you a happy holiday!”

The news ended with the typical credit roll while Monica Rivers sat at the desk trying to look busy. Little did she know that she would soon be reporting her first, of the mass holiday murders, in her news-casting career. She didn’t have to worry though, it was not happening in her country this year.

As he switched off the television, he smiled to himself. He was ready to leave his chilly home and move to somewhere warmer, just for a couple of weeks. It was sort of a ritual, that every year, he would pack his bags and go on a little trip; a little trip that wouldn’t end so well for many.

Being that he looked innocent with his chubby face, he got away with almost every crime he committed. No one knew he was wanted in countries all over the world, because no one suspected him at all. How could this sweet, quiet, fat man, be the evil of such heinous crimes? Oh, no, it couldn’t be him alright, and that was what everyone said.

The FBI had announced that they were looking for a middle aged man, who expressed a special fondness for families. They suspected him not to have any family, which would suggest that he traveled alone, and met his followers only at the site of the crime. On top of that, they knew he only acted on one special season of the year, and they never failed to caution the general public when the holidays came around. To his surprise, these profilers were right about him, proving that TV shows never over exaggerated their skills.

Since he was especially fond of families, his favorite holiday of the year was Christmas. He loved how families would come together, and celebrate a day which had no significance to some of them. He also loved the presents and he loved the food. That explained why he was growing more side ways than upwards as the years went by.

This year, he decided to pay special visits to the families in a little town called Oakwood. He was going to slip into their brightly decorated houses at night, steal the children from their beds, and drained the parents dry. He would then bag the children and keep them for the rest of the year. What he would do with them, well, I won’t tell you just yet.

Being that he was a very organized man, he entered Oakwood as a traveler, friendly and harmless. He made a small inn his stay for the coming weeks and worked out his ‘visitation’ plans; who to visit first and who to visit last. The order never really mattered though, as long as the entire town was covered.

One would wonder how one man could murder and kidnap everyone in a town. They suspected he worked in a team of course, but they were wrong. There was one thing they did not know about him, one thing they would not even believe.

You see, this cute chubby man was no man at all. The misconception of vampires being tall, dark and handsome, has even made the supernatural believers debunk the idea all together. Instead, they have chosen to believe he was a pedophilia murderer leading a group of mad men. Though he was slightly disappointed with their assumptions, he could only blame the media for painting such false impressions. No, vampires weren’t all tall, dark and handsome, in fact, most of them looked fairly ordinary, and they never even attempted to lead a normal life.

Once again, how does he manage to wipe out an entire town? That question is answered.

But what did he do with the children? After killing the parents and washing down his dinner with the glass of milk they had provided, he would take the children, tell them they have been naughty this year and convince them that they can make up for it and get the toys they wanted. He would then pack them in red sacks and bring them home.

Since he lived in the North pole, humans were a rare sight. Hence, some of the children would be his food for the rest of the year, before he went to collect more next Christmas. He also made use of them, turning some to be his little slaves. Most of them would help around the house, while others made toys to lure in the new prey.

Unfortunately for him, he had to feed some of the useless ones to them as well. It may seem rather cruel, but if elves wouldn’t work on an empty stomach, what more these little monsters.

Over the years, this chubby vampire has been doing the same routine of gathering slaves and building an army, and no one knew how to stop him. Maybe this is because the children of the world constantly called him Santa, thinking he was the man who could make all their dreams come true.

Well, who could blame them, it was another common misconception after all. And who knew blood stained clothes could become a seasonal costume.

____________________________________________________________________________________________

Wait, what? Vampire Santa?

My friends and I were talking about how ‘Vampire Santa’ could end up becoming a film when the cinema runs out of cheesy stuff. I bet we are not the first to come up with such a ridiculous notion, especially when the conversation started over a Facebook picture of me under a chimney.

I hope this story isn’t as cliche as the idea though. Do let me know what you think!

And, happy holidays!

© 2012 Jeyna Grace

(For more short stories, click HERE)