Lore: Tales of Myth and Legend Retold
by Brinda Berry, Cate Dean, Jayne A. Knolls, Karen Y. Bynum, Laura Diamond, Theresa DaLayne
Publication date: March 2014
Genre: Fantasy, Retelling
A collection of six folklore retellings that will twist your mind and claim your heart.
SHIMMER: A heartbroken boy rescues a mermaid… but is it too late to save her?
BETWEEN is about a girl, a genie, and a ton of bad decisions.
SUNSET MOON: Eloise doesn’t believe in Native American magic–until the dreamcatcher spiders spin her down an unknown path.
THE MAKER: An incapacitated young man bent on revenge builds a creature to do it for him.
A BEAUTIFUL MOURNING: The story of a Maya goddess torn between duty and love, and the ultimate sacrifice she must make to achieve true happiness.
THE BARRICADES: When a human girl risks everything to save the life of an Eternal prince, will their feelings for each other change the world they know, or tear it apart?
The Maker by Jayne A. Knolls:
Cassandra Francesca Levinsky had been mine, more or less, since the second semester of freshman year. Addiction was probably a better term for it than a romance—I couldn’t get enough of her—nor she of me. Everyone knew us as Brettandra—I know, like Brangelina—that’s how legendary we were—Brett and Cassandra, the best looking couple on campus.
In the end, I only drank so much to deal with the sight of her throwing herself at every other guy in the room—and to obliterate the green haze of jealous rage that overtook me when others wanted a piece of her. But if I were forced to admit it, I kind of got off on that, too. Like I said, we couldn’t get enough of each other.
I’m not sure exactly when those long weeks of getting the cold shoulder first started. My memory’s not what it used to be. And I don’t have much of a recollection of what happened after we left the party. Maybe I blacked out. The next thing I remember is waking up in a hospital bed, my skull on fire. I learned later that Cassandra walked away from the wreck without a scratch on her. She left me for dead, my skull cracked open like an egg.
The guy we hit never walked again. Yeah, I felt kind of bad about that, but I’m not in such great shape either.
They found me in the driver’s seat, the engine’s firewall inches from the tree we plowed into. The wrecked BMW was registered to me—so as far as anyone knew at the scene, Cassandra was never even in it. The medical report stated that if she’d called for help right away, instead placing an anonymous call after she was long gone, the bleeding might not have been so extensive.
That I might have made a good recovery.
But, if that were the case, then this story would never have been written.
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