You guys… I've done it. I've finally done it.
I've published a book. It's taken me almost a year, innumerable hours of headaches, and many times of tossing my computer into the trash, but I've done it.
It's called Aphelion and you can find it on Amazon under the author name A. E. Alby. I'll put a link in my profile if you'd like to check it out. It's set in the middle ages. Cassia Faramond, a spoiled girl, is petitioned by the god of the moon to help him reclaim his throne. If you'd like to buy it, it's only $4.89! Can't even get a box of goldfish for that price! It would keep me fed while I write more fics for y'all ;)
I'd just like to thank each and every one of you for your kind words and support- it made me keep writing even when I felt particularly shitty at it, lol. It's always been a dream of mine to be published and it has finally happened. Thank you, from the very bottom of my heart.
Now, without further ado, what you really came here for ;)
"Just get some rest, alright? I'll be home early."
"You don't have to do that. I'll be fine."
"Are you sure, Bells?"
"Just a little cut. I'm fine- just gonna catch up on some homework."
"If you're positive…"
"Dad."
"Alright, alright. Be good, get some sleep."
"Of course."
Bella sat back into her pillows and put on her best face of pure innocence.
Charlie gave her a stern look before finally shutting her door.
She listened intently to his footsteps as he stomped down the stairs. The moment she heard the police cruiser rattle out of the driveway, she was flinging her bed sheets away and stumbling to her closet.
Tearing out of her pajamas, she shoved herself into a plain white t-shirt and a hunter green hoodie, followed by a worn pair of denim jeans and ragged sneakers.
Lastly, she snatched her backpack full of… no, best not to think on that… and sprinted to her rusty old truck- returned by her ever faithful father- doing her absolute best to keep her mind clear of any formally laid plans.
But even the best laid of plans have their fallacies- even the plans that include not to plan.
Alice looked like an ethereal faerie as she stood in the road, expectantly staring down her truck. The gentle mist rising from the ground only lent to the mystical air of the petite vampire.
Bella's heart sank into her stomach. It was over. Alice would tell Edward and then she'd never see Jasper again… just the thought made her heart wince.
The sound of the truck door creaking open was startling, even to her human ears, and she nearly fainted when Alice plopped herself into the passenger seat.
"Bella," she chirped softly, wrinkling her nose and giving the backpack sat in her lap a distasteful look.
"Alice…"
"I know what you're planning."
Bella waited and when the little pixie didn't elaborate, she said, "Please don't tell him, Alice. Please. Jasper's so sick- I love Carlisle but what he's doing is wrong. I can't sit back and watch him starve that man to death, I just can't."
Alice sat back and giggled.
A brief flare of rage thrummed through her stomach. "You're laughing at me?"
Alice shrugged. "Everyone's hunting right now. I'm on baby-sitting duty. They'll be back in about two hours."
Bella felt disbelief course through her veins. "Hu… what?"
"Make it count!" Alice chirped, leaning forward and giving her a tight hug. And just like that, she vanished back into the woods.
Is this what it felt like to be in a car accident? Whip lashed and thrown around and left with an absolute confusion in which you could only utter three words? Because that's all Bella could do as she sat back into her seat and breathed, "What the fuck…"
Driving up to the house, she couldn't help but look every which way, just waiting for someone to pop up and ruin her carefully laid plans. But as she pulls up to the driveway, everything is silent and still.
Shutting the truck, the sudden silence made her sit back and really contemplate what she was about to do.
Carrying such a large amount of blood to a starving vampire… she was just asking to be killed, wasn't she? But his eyes… they'd been so sad, so full of suffering. She had no choice but to help. If he killed her, so be it, but she had a very strong suspicion that he would sooner die than raise a hand to her.
Gathering her backpack, she walked to the front door. Open. Oh, Alice- what had you seen? Surely the pixie would tell her if her life was in imminent danger, right? Then again, she'd been behaving so strangely, ever since Jasper was brought in by the Cullens.
Entering the home, she gripped the straps of her bag and took a deep breath. Ok. She could do this. This is for him. For him.
She started by searching upstairs. Edward's room, the study, Emmett and Rose's and Alice's room respectively.
Nothing.
Downstairs was the same story.
He was in the house, right? That's what Alice had led her to believe- it's what Edward had been so adamant about. So where the hell is he?
She's beginning to grow impatient, each second ticking by bringing her closer to having to make a quick retreat. What if she didn't find him in time? Would she have to go home? Surely the blood would go bad by then- could vampires even eat spoiled blood?
A soft rustle sounded from the floorboards. She held her breath, not daring to move a muscle.
There- again, the gentlest of rattling sounded right beneath her feet. Gasping, she fell to her knees and pressed her ear to the floor. There-! The sound was much clearer. They must have a basement!
Heart pounding a million beats per minutes, she tore through the house, ripping every door open and slamming it shut when it didn't hold her shaggy, emaciated vampire.
And then… and then, she opened a door and there it was.
A staircase leading down into a pitch black, musty room. The basement.
Bella wavered at the foot of the stairs, waiting for her eyesight to adjust. It wouldn't do to have come this far only to bust her head open from falling down the stairs.
As she waited, she squinted into the darkness and paused before hesitantly breathing into the air, "…Jasper?"
"…Jasper?"
He flinched in his bindings and went rigidly still. Surely this was a dream- surely that scent wasn't truly here.
But when he raised his head, there she was, like a vision. She was perched on the stairs, squinting into the darkness, her gaze roaming right over him.
His lips part as he breathes in her gentle, unobtrusive scent, lets it coat his tongue. It's better than… than…
He breathes in deeper and, if possible, stills even more in his bindings.
Whatisthatsmellwhatisthatsmellwhatisthatsmell?
His throat is on fire, as if he swallowed a handful of burning embers. It's the most painful experience that he can recall.
Just like that, he's panting and writhing in his chains, pulling against the rattling links with all of his strength. He doesn't even budge.
Finally, he resorts to calling for her, trying to tempt her into coming closer, this girl with the gentle and intoxicating scent. He croons lowly, continuously, so that she might locate him in the darkness.
She stills when his calling reaches her.
He croons again, doing his best to sit up as straight as possible lest this female think him weak.
"Jasper?" she says again, finallyfinallyfinally taking the first few steps down the creaking wooden stairs.
With every inch she comes closer, he grows more frantic. His entire body heaves with his sharp inhales, jaw hanging open as he coats his entire mouth in the scent. Closerclosercloser just come closer!
A hidden instinct, one not often indulged, flares to life in him and he remembers how pleased females were to hear him purr. It starts off rattling in his chest, an awkward vibration that stirred in his throat but he picks up the rhythm quickly, crooning and cooing and purring for her to just come closer!
She blindly makes her way forward, so closer so close! Closer! His purring intensifies as he strains in his bonds. She's so near! Only a few more steps. Closer and closer and-
The feeling of her hand against his chest makes him shudder and pause in his symphony of calls. Her touch is unlike any other. It doesn't sting- it doesn't hurt… it feels… good… right.
"There you are," she murmurs, raising her other hand and reaching blindly for his jaw. She traces the sharp line there and he bows his head so that she might have a better reach- anything to keep her close.
He starts up his purr again, softer now that she is near.
"What have they done to you?" she wonders, horrified, as her hands trail down to his arms, finding the cruel metal manacles wrapped around his wrists. She pulled on them, rattled them, followed their lengths to the fish-eye hooks wedged into the concrete wall.
"So fucking cruel…" an unknown emotion chokes her words.
He inhales sharply and bends down lower, crooning loudly. Gods he just wants that fucking scent closer. What is it whatisitwhatisit?!
"Oh! I'm so stupid."
She stepped away and he immediately mourned the loss of her soft heat. Before he could begin calling for her again, however, she was throwing the backpack from her shoulders and unzipping it.
There… the scent wafted upwards with her movements and he felt himself growing cloudy, suspended in a misty red haze.
"Ok… I brought you some… s-some…. Anyway. I don't really know how to… give this to you? I only ask that you don't… well, just please don't hurt me, ok? Jasper? Can you hear me?"
He's gasping down air, straining forward as far as he can, shaking with his weakness and hunger.
The moment she held up the little plastic bag before his lips, he dove forward and sunk razor-sharp teeth into its surface. A pleased rumble left him as he sucked down the pure, life-giving essence. It's beautiful, it's wonderful, the fucking taste. It's unlike anything else. He can't get enough- more more moremoremoremoremore. When the packet is empty, he retracts his teeth and snarls viciously, vibrating with untamed energy.
The moment the next packet is timidly offered, he rips into it with such viciousness that the life-giving girl is spattered in the sanguine liquid. She flinches but dutifully prepares the next bag.
Nineteen packs follow in similar succession. It's amazing, the energy suddenly flooding his veins and making his very body feel electric. He finishes off the final bag and slumps forward, utterly filled for the first time in… ever?
He feels… content. Not quite safe, no, not yet, but content. And it's thanks to the gentle, wisp of a girl. When he lifts his head, a far easier feat than not even an hour ago, he can see her cheeks and sides of her neck are spattered with blood.
He pulls and one of the manacles snap like glass beneath his strength.
The girl flinches but before she can move too far, he's already got his arm wrapped around her. Hauling her forward and into his lap, he immediately sets to dragging his tongue over the stray droplets marring her perfect skin, holding her close.
She squeezes her eyes shut and goes rigidly still, digging her fingers into his arms. Her heart flutters between their chests like a delicate bird and, as he drops his head lower and licks the hollow of her throat, it stutters and picks up speed.
Another scent floods the room, heady and thick and utterly unavoidable. He stills as his nostrils quiver. This scent…
He moans softly and gently presses his teeth into her skin, just on the edge of tearing it. This scent is better than even the red liquid.
His hands ghost across her sides, up and down, reaching further down to the source of her heat. He touches her and-
She jumps like a frightened horse, flailing away from him and gasping down lungfuls of air. She shakes, holding herself, and he's not much better, panting in her scent and quivering with a strange need.
"I'm sorry," she whispers. "I-… I need to… go." She trips over her feet as she turns.
She's leaving? Already?
He begins to purr softly and when that doesn't work, he croons loudly for his female to return.
But she disappears up the stairs with one last glance his way.
… what did he do wrong?