Emerald Bound
By Teresa Richards
Giveaway: Signed Copy of Emerald Bound. Remember you may increase your chances of winning by visiting the other tour stops. Those locations may be found HERE
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Interview:
Crystal: Today I am honored to host Teresa Richards. Welcome Teresa! I'm so happy to have you here today. Would you share a little bit about yourself with us today?
Teresa: I’m thirty-six years old and my husband and I have five kids. Writing is my outlet and provides me a much-needed distraction from mom-duties. I also enjoy playing the piano, reading, and watching movies. I firmly believe in spontaneous dance parties. They are good for the soul.
Crystal: Do you have a favorite scene you would like to share with us?
Teresa: Sharing my favorite scene would spoil the end of the book, so I’ll share one of Lindy’s scenes. This one takes place in the 1600’s. It’s when she wakes up in the inn, after the slumber that should have been her last.
A neatly folded, crimson blanket sat beside the wash basin. Though the water was cold, it was still a luxury to have my own basin. After washing my face, I wrapped the blanket around my shoulders and went in search of my father.
A strong, rich scent lured me down the stairs. It was bitter, but also slightly nutty. The front entryway was deserted, as was the sitting room. “Hello?” I called.
I entered the dining area, also deserted, and a woman’s voice rang out from the next room over. The kitchen, I assumed. “How could this be the last of it?” she demanded. “Marsala brought some in less than a fortnight ago!” Though I stood out of sight, I could picture the pots and pans as they clanged in the next room. “You’ll have to go for more.” A chair scraped across the wooden floor. “I need it!”
“Beggin’ your pardon, Ma’am, but the beans are still scarce in these parts. ‘Tis a long trip from Arabia. Mr. Han says ‘twill be another month at least ‘fore more comes in.”
A bang, like the slamming of a door, shook the walls. A menacing voice said, “Milda, coffee is a luxury I’m unwilling to go without. Offer him whatever he wants. I’m quite certain he can procure some.” Another bang. Then, “I’m going to collect the Peas.”
Footsteps approached and Calista, the woman who’d welcomed us the day before, rounded the corner and collided into me. She cried out, a sort of strangled bark catching in her throat. Her hand flew to her mouth and she stood, staring at me.
Another voice called out from the kitchen, “What is it, dear?” Calista’s husband, Theodore, appeared in the doorway, saw me, and cursed. He clamped a hand over his mouth.
The cook followed, carrying a steaming pitcher and heading for the heavy wooden dining table. She maneuvered around Theodore before looking up. She gasped when she saw me and the pitcher slipped out of her hands. It crashed to the ground, splattering its dark brown contents everywhere.
Nobody moved.
The dark, steaming puddles slowly shrank as the precious coffee dripped through the cracks in the floorboards.
I shifted under their scrutiny and drew the blanket tighter around my shoulders. “I’m looking for my father. Do you know where he is?”
The Lady’s lips pressed together in a firm line. A too-tight smile appeared on her face. “Oh, good morning, dear!” She glanced pointedly at the cook, who stooped to pick up the pitcher. Theodore still gazed at me. His wife nudged him and he ducked his head. “I trust you slept well?”
Even though I knew better than to speak my mind and insult my hosts, somehow, I couldn’t stop myself. “I think there’s something wrong with that bed. It was awfully uncomfortable. Full of lumps. I had a terrible nights’ sleep.” My face flushed and I looked down, mortified that I’d answered so candidly.
Calista’s taut smile didn’t waver. “Theodore will tend to it. Don’t you worry, Dear.” She grabbed one of my arms and led me to a chair. “Sit down. Milda will bring you some bread and freshly churned butter.”
“Where is my father?”
“Oh. Rupert. Ahhh… he stepped out.” Her eyes darted to the door. “Said he had to settle some business. You just missed him. Eat up, dear.” She hurried from the room, her husband trailing close behind.
Crystal: Where did you come up with the idea for your current release?
Teresa: I’m cringing as I admit this but, honestly, the spark that started Emerald Bound was from a dream. In the dream, I had to save a friend who’d been taken captive, and a gemstone under her bed had the power to hold her there. So weird, I know. When I woke up, the gem under the bed immediately reminded me of the fairy tale, The Princess and the Pea. I’ve always loved fairy tale retellings and the idea of twisting up The Princess and the Pea intrigued me because I hadn’t seen it done before. My creative juices went to work and I just couldn’t stop thinking about it. The story unfolded and grew and morphed into something I was so excited about. Seeing it come to life on the page was a ton of fun.
Crystal: What are you currently working on?
Teresa: I’m working on a YA contemporary suspense novel that I started as soon as I finished Emerald Bound. It’s called Windfall. I’m finishing up my second round of edits, which means it’ll soon be ready for beta readers! As soon as I’m done editing Windfall, I’ll be working on the sequel to Emerald Bound, which I already have outlined. I can’t wait to start!
Crystal: Do you have any special routine that you follow when you are writing?
Teresa: Sit down, open laptop, and write. J When my kids are all in school (which only happens two days per week since I still have one in preschool), I like to go to the library so I don’t get distracted by other jobs around my house that need doing. I get a ton done when I go to the library. I also get a lot done at night when the house is quiet and I’m the only one left awake. Staying up too late is my fatal flaw, but at this stage of my life, it’s when I do some of my best work.
Crystal: Did you have to do a lot of research for this book or any other? If so do you have a fascinating fact that you have learned you would like to share with us?
Teresa: I did a lot of research about life in Scandinavia in the 1600’s for Lindy’s sections, since that’s where her story starts. What they would have worn, what their lives were like, how the villages would have looked, that sort of stuff. One thing I learned that I thought was funny was that when people started using forks to eat (instead of their hands or pieces of bread) early fork-users were look upon with suspicion.
Crystal: Who are some of your favorite authors that you like to read?
Teresa: I’ll read (and love) anything by Maggie Stiefvater, AG Howard, Brandon Mull and Sophie Kinsella.
Crystal: Is there any genre you haven't written that you would like to try?
Teresa: I love historical fiction, but I stink at history. So in theory I’d love to write a historical fiction, but might not be able to remember the actual history long enough to write a credible fictional account.
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Blurb:
A princess, a pea, and a tower of mattresses. This is the sliver that survives of a story more nightmare than fairytale...
Maggie Rhodes, high school junior and semi-reformed stalker, learns the tale’s true roots after a spying attempt goes awry and her best friend Kate ends up as the victim of an ancient curse. At the center of the curse lies an enchanted emerald that has been residing quietly in
a museum for the past fifty years. Admirers of the gem have no idea that it feeds on life. Or that it’s found its next victim in Kate.
a museum for the past fifty years. Admirers of the gem have no idea that it feeds on life. Or that it’s found its next victim in Kate.
Enter Lindy, a school acquaintance who knows more than she’s letting on, and Garon, a handsome stranger claiming he knows how to help, and Maggie is left wondering who to trust and how to save her best friend before it’s too late.
If only Maggie knew her connection to the fairy tale was rooted far deeper than an
endangered best friend.
endangered best friend.
Fantasy, Romance, Suspense
A part of me died long ago.
It was the part of me that feels, and it was Calista’s fault.
What happened tonight was nothing new—innocent victims welcomed into our home, not knowing they would never leave. I learned long ago I could not help them, so I stopped trying.
But this time something was different. This time I was awake, burning with a gut-wrenching guilt, as the next victims slept downstairs. This time I knew the victims. And they didn’t deserve what was coming.
It had always been hard for me to make friends. I’d been called loner, loser, outcast, and freak.
Even still, I remembered Maggie offering to show me around when I first
transferred to their school. Through her, I met Kate and Piper. The three of
them were always nice to me, while other kids kept their distance and spread
rumors behind my back. I told myself I didn’t care—I wasn’t like them.
Even still, I remembered Maggie offering to show me around when I first
transferred to their school. Through her, I met Kate and Piper. The three of
them were always nice to me, while other kids kept their distance and spread
rumors behind my back. I told myself I didn’t care—I wasn’t like them.
But being a loner was lonely.
So tonight when I saw
Maggie and her friends here, something inside me snapped. Or, perhaps it was
the dead piece of me coming back to life. Now I cared desperately about what
was happening in the room below mine.
Maggie and her friends here, something inside me snapped. Or, perhaps it was
the dead piece of me coming back to life. Now I cared desperately about what
was happening in the room below mine.
But there was still nothing I could do.
Calista usually lured in victims from out of town to avoid arousing suspicion. Pregnant ones were a particular favorite—easy prey, she called them. But Maggie and her friends came here all on their own. The opportunity was too good for Calista to pass up.
Everyone thought Calista was my mother, but she wasn’t.
Back in my day, almost four centuries ago, Calista had an alternate method of luring in victims. She and her husband, Theodore, advertised for hired help with their inn. The number of parents willing to sell their daughters into a life of servitude in exchange for a forgiven debt or a clean slate was staggering.
My father was one of them.
By the time my mother found out what he’d done, it was too late. There was no escape. I was bound.
My story was well known in this land, whispered as a bedtime tale to ease children into sleep.
But, just like any other story passed down through time by rumors and idle
gossip, the fragment that survived was woefully incomplete. It began Something like this:
But, just like any other story passed down through time by rumors and idle
gossip, the fragment that survived was woefully incomplete. It began Something like this:
There is rumored to have been (once upon a time, of course) a princess, a pea, and a tower of mattresses.
That much was true, though in actuality it was only one mattress, not twenty. The pea was also real, though most would call it a precious stone—an emerald, to be precise.
The gem that sealed my fate was now in the Smithsonian Museum of Natural History in Washington D.C.
Calista was furious when she found it missing. She thought I’d stolen it until
she remembered my limits. The identity of the true thief remains unknown.
Calista was furious when she found it missing. She thought I’d stolen it until
she remembered my limits. The identity of the true thief remains unknown.
Even though the emerald is no longer in our possession, we are still bound to it, as it is bound to us. Admirers of the opulent necklace where it rests don’t understand it. Like me, the gem is a prisoner, struggling against its fate.
Even now, centuries later, I don’t understand all the details of what happened to me that night. But it began with a troubled slumber on a bed of enchanted emeralds.
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About the Author:
Teresa Richards writes YA, but loves anything that can be given a unique twist. Her zombie stories 'Are You My Mombie?' and 'The Zombie Code' can be found in Z Tales: Stories from the Zombieverse by The Fairfield Scribes.
When Teresa’s not writing, she can be found either chasing after one of her five kids, or hiding someplace in the house with a treat her
children overlooked. Emerald Bound is her debut novel.
children overlooked. Emerald Bound is her debut novel.
You can connect with her on twitter @BYUtm33 or at authorteresarichards.com.
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