First Chapter: Larimar: Gem of the Sea by Christine E. Schulze

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Title: Larimar: Gem of the Sea Author: Christine E. Schulze Publisher: KDP Publishing Pages: 140 Genre: YA | Fantasy

A Fearless captain and a mysterious girl who walks on water. An underwater city and a destined deadly curse. What could possibly go wrong? Captain Jorah is renowned for being one of the youngest explorers to ever sail Zephyrian waters. He’s also notorious for landing his crew in situations they hadn’t counted on, involving man-eating mermaids and other dangerous misadventures. When Jorah decides to search for the legendary underwater City of Larimar, he doesn’t account for the quest that follows. After being rescued from shipwreck by a mysterious young woman who walks on water and carries a singing seashell around her neck, he soon finds himself reunited with an old friend once thought lost to him. Before he knows it, he’s caught up in a race against time to save her yet again, this time from a looming prophecy about a deadly serpent destined to consume her entire race. Can Jorah help her save her people before the dark prophecy completes itself? The Amielian Legends is a collection of stand-alone young adult books, all set in the same fantastic universe, that can be read in any order. Read Larimar: Gem of the Sea today to discover new worlds filled with adventure, diverse characters, and whimsical magic. Amazon: https://amzn.to/44u4tQY Audible: https://www.audible.com/pd/Larimar-Gem-of-the-Sea-Audiobook/B0BZDYVKWY

Chapter One

Captain Jorah stood proudly aboard the Gem, smiling as his ship departed from the shores of Muriel. He closed his eyes and lifted his face to the sun, relishing its warmth on his fair skin, paler than usual from being cooped up too much this past winter. With a deep inhale, he savored the salty air and released a contented sigh. How good it felt to be one with his beloved ocean once more. As they picked up speed, the wind tousled his shoulder-length hair about his face. He pulled the unruly locks back, tying them with a bit of twine, and a fond, bittersweet memory played before him. His mother, washing his hair as a young lad, admiring how its golden-brown hues were the same as his father’s. When he grew older, she would run her hands through his hair and say it was golden-brown like the sands of the distant lands he longed so much to discover. Much as he relished this life of adventure, he oft times wished he could trade it for one more simple, precious night with Mama, sitting on the shoreline, talking, and dreaming of a better life. At least he had fulfilled the greater part of her dream by building that life for himself, and so he would go on doing, with each new quest he undertook. Jorah watched his kingdom of Muriel as it shrank on the horizon. The castle stretched high on the cliffs, its gold-gilded turrets glistening in the rising sun’s prismatic glow. The flags atop the turrets bore Muriel’s royal standard of two aqua-colored seals swimming in a perfect circle on a dark blue backdrop. As the flags waved at the matching banners that flew from the Gem’s masts, Jorah could almost imagine the castle bid him a fond farewell. Then again, truth be told, he had seen little inside the castle’s walls in the past few years. He hardly recalled the feel of his fine satin sheets or the taste of fine wine. He preferred to be on the go, always seeking his next quest. At nineteen, he had already explored as many of Zephyr’s Islands as could be reached, discovering many unique creatures and plant life, including what had since become the most popular breeds of Thebazilian foxes. He was also one of few who’d dared to travel to the mysterious Western Realm, learning much from the diverse cultures he encountered there. Jorah had abandoned a life of luxury to pursue his life-long curiosity. He did not seek gold or silver. Nor did he seek to conquer or establish new lands. No, the most favored treasure he sought was that of ancient civilizations, myths, and legends. Thus, as Jorah bid Caracol, his first mate, to follow him into his cabin, Caracol inwardly groaned. What harebrained mission had the captain concocted this time? Were they searching for trolls, elves, or perhaps narwhals? Caracol hoped it was narwhals. He had always fancied seeing the great “unicorns who ruled the seas.” Of course, Caracol, like the rest of the crew, looked up to Jorah. He was a good captain and an intelligent man. But Caracol also wasn’t the only member of the crew to question their captain’s sanity from time to time. When the crew had first come together, they had thought Jorah crazy for believing in the ridiculous legends he was always digging up. Now, they thought him crazy because the legends nearly always proved true, and yet he still insisted on pursuing such “exhilarating journeys,” as he cheerfully called their oft-near-death experiences. The most exhilarating thing the crew usually found about such quests was the trip home, especially after their last mission, where they had nearly been devoured by man-eating mermaids. Blessed Amiel, Caracol breathed the silent prayer with a shiver, as he recalled the mermaids’ slimy hands clawing at him. Please let it be anything but mermaids. Despite his nagging worries, Caracol remained silent as he followed his captain into his cabin. After all, Jorah had kept them alive thus far. Surely, he would keep them safe on whatever new mission he had in store. As Jorah unrolled one of the huge maps and spread it wide on the table, Caracol watched the familiar, eager glint leap into his captain’s bright green eyes. “This,” Jorah said, pointing to a location on the map, “this is our new destination.” Caracol peered over Jorah’s shoulder and instantly felt a headache coming on. His captain didn’t even point to a landmark. Rather, he pointed to some random part of the Zephyrian Ocean. Those usually ended up being the worst kinds of adventures. The mermaids’ seaweed stench rushed back to him, making his stomach roil. Swallowing hard, he said, “That’s in the middle of the Zephyrian Ocean, Captain.” “Yes, Caracol, and do you know what’s in the middle of the Zephyrian Ocean?” Caracol didn’t have any idea, but he had the reluctant feeling that he would momentarily find out. “I don’t know, Captain.” “The ancient City of Larimar, also known as the ‘Gem of the Sea!’” Jorah tensed, as though he might burst from his rush of excitement. “It’s the legendary city of the Larimar people, named after one of their ancient queens, ‘Larine,’ and ‘mara,’ their word for ‘sea.’ The Larimar people are elves, skilled in magic that allows them to control the very ocean waves…” Elves, Caracol reflected, as the captain rambled on. Elves aren’t so bad. The last elves they had encountered had given them weapons, jewels, and other gifts. The King of Arabis had been quite impressed with all they had brought to trade, after that expedition. Caracol began to feel a bit more at ease. “…with amazing buildings constructed from the larimar stone. It’s the most magnificent city ever built on the ocean floor.” Oh, dear, Caracol thought. Ocean floor. Of course, there had to be a downfall somewhere. His thoughts darted back to mermaids, and a knot twisted in the pit of his stomach. “On the ocean floor, Captain? How will we know where to stop sailing and dive below? How will we know when we’ve found this city?” The determined, decisive gleam Caracol had witnessed far too often in Jorah’s eyes flashed in them now as he said, “Oh, we’ll know, Caracol. Believe me. If the legends are true, and I’ve never yet pursued a legend that wasn’t based in some truth, we’ll know.” ~*~*~*~ The weather proved fair the first few days of their voyage to the City of Larimar, but on the third night, Caracol came to Jorah’s cabin and announced, “Captain, there’s a huge mass of storm clouds up ahead. It looks bad. I think we should change course.” “No,” Jorah said firmly. He bent over his maps and leafed through his ancient tome on the Larimar City, studying it so fiercely that lightning might have struck from his eyes and burned a hole straight through the parchment. “We sail into it. In fact, we must sail into it. If the men won’t do it, they can set off in the rowboats, and I’ll handle it myself, as best I can.” Caracol stared at his captain but knew there was no use in arguing. He left the cabin with a shake of his head. Now he was even more certain that it was mermaids all over again. He took a vote from the crew members trimming the sails and going about their various other tasks. The consensus was to stay on and help Jorah brave the storm. Caracol had to give them credit. On the most harrowing missions, they still had the guts to stand by their captain, even those like the young boatswain, Lonny, whose face very much promised that he’d rather be sailing the opposite direction and tipping back a large mug of ale. Within hours, the ship pitched and plunged into the midst of the worst storm the crew had ever known. Sharp fingers of lightning clawed at the ship, as wind rocked it violently, tumbling the crew to and fro, nearly tossing them overboard. The rain fell in such a thick veil they could barely see their own hands in front of them. Jorah emerged from his cabin and flew on deck to call out orders to his crew, but they could hear nothing through the storm’s torment. “Captain!” Caracol stumbled up next to Jorah. “We’re sailing right into the eye of the storm! We need to turn back while we still can!” “No!” Jorah shouted back. “Not when we’ve come this far! The storm is our sign that we’re on the right track!” That was the last straw for Caracol. He stood drenched, freezing, clutching the bulwark to keep his footing, dumbfounded, and more than a little angry. They had fallen into peril countless times on past excursions, but the captain had never purposely thrust the crew into danger. This was the most reckless and insane decision Jorah had ever made. Perhaps he had gone truly mad at last. Caracol opened his mouth to protest, but before he could, Jorah leaned in toward him and made an even madder decision. “Caracol, I want you to get the crew into the rowboats and escape while you still can!” “What? And leave you here alone? No, it’s out of the question! You can’t control this ship on your own!” “Caracol!” Jorah thundered over the rain. “There’s no sense risking the crew’s lives any further on account of this quest. I want you to take them and get out of here!” “But the rowboats, I fear they won’t survive this!” “They will!” Jorah insisted. “Sail away from the storm. The storm’s wrath will focus on me, on the ship!” “Captain, how can you know?” “Just trust me! I need you to trust me! Take the men and go, before the ship is torn to shreds, and they with it!” “And what will you do?” “I’ll head into the storm, and if I survive, I’ll have made the greatest discovery in the history of Muriel exploration!” “But why?” “It’s the only way!” Jorah yelled, in his tone of finality that said the matter was settled and the conversation ended. “I’ll explain everything when I meet up with you again! Now, please, get the crew and get out of here!” Caracol hesitated a moment longer. Perhaps Jorah was crazy, but he had been a kind and faithful captain, and a loyal friend. How could Caracol abandon him? A brilliant branch of lightning sliced across the sky and struck one of the masts. The mast crashed down, gouging a hole in the deck and nearly crushing some of the crew, who managed to shove each other aside just in time. “Now!” Jorah commanded. Caracol knew it was now or never. The crew’s lives rested in his hands, and his captain counted on him to lead them all to safety. Casting a final glance at Jorah, Caracol rushed across deck, shouting, “Abandon ship! Captain’s orders!” Soon the two smaller boats were filled and lowered into the sea. Jorah was left alone with the raging wind, pounding rain, and violent flashes of lightning, all of which tore his ship to shreds. The last, remaining banner bearing Muriel’s crest split in two, separating the two seals. Frail wisps of sail flickered from the masts like airy mists. Lightning set another of the masts ablaze. The rain doused the flames, but the wood had been cut straight through, and the top half of the fallen mast plunged down, ripping another hole in the deck. Jorah gripped the railing along the ship’s port and stared at the wreck of his once glorious vessel. Apprehension flitted through him. A pain of regret weighed on his heart. The Gem had proven just as faithful a companion to him as his crew, seeing him safely through many a wild adventure. Seeing her ripped apart like this was almost like seeing someone he loved die before his eyes. The vessel rocked violently, nearly throwing him over the side. He grasped the railing hard and then leaned over, peering into the fray. Yes, they were very close to entering the midst of the storm. And if the legend was true, the pain would be worth it, and he would survive, to such triumph. The ship jolted again, and Jorah flipped into the raging waters below. He struggled to stay above the surface, stroking hard and fighting with every ounce of strength his body would give him. He spotted a piece of driftwood, swam over to it, and latched on, clinging for dear life. He needed it to hold together and keep him above the water just long enough for the legend to reveal itself. The Gem groaned, crying out to him, as it began to sink. He called a farewell to her, but his words were lost in the tempest’s wrath. Tossed brutally in the waves, he didn’t know how much longer he could hold on. He barely clung to the scrap of wood as it began to split apart. The water grew still, so abruptly that Jorah felt stunned, as though he had been hit over the head with a spare bit of driftwood. At first, he thought he had, for darkness encompassed him, but he soon realized that the darkness was the thick cloak of storm clouds yet veiling the quarter moon and stars. Then, upon the midnight water’s surface, ripples of white light skipped toward him, and Jorah was unable to tear his eyes away from the sight approaching him. On the surface of the water walked the most intriguing young woman. Her skin was a deep brown, like cinnamon, a unique color for this region. Her black hair, streaked with shimmering silver, extended far down her back. Her bright blue eyes, flecked with silver, focused intently on him. The silvery-white silks of her dress fluttered about her ankles in the gentle breeze. Silver-white ribbons crisscrossed around her bare arms, from her shoulders to wrists. From her neck hung a white scallop seashell, its brilliant glow seeming to radiate through her body, making it glisten like starlight. When she reached him, the water lay still as glass. Silently, she extended both hands toward him. He took one, and then the other. They looked delicate, yet their grip was amazingly strong. She helped him from the water and soon, to his amazement, he stood on the water’s surface beside her. Suddenly, they were soaring over the ocean at such an incredible speed that ocean and sky blurred. At first, he thought they flew through the air, but as water sprayed onto his face, he glanced down just long enough to see that they skated across the ocean, as smoothly as he had seen others glide across ice. Jorah’s gaze transfixed upon the enigmatic lady. She flew against the dark night sky like a shooting star, and her silver-blue eyes reflected a sense of urgency. As unexpectedly as they had taken to the sky, they came to a halt. Jorah found himself standing safely on shore. Across the expanse of ocean, he could make out his crew approaching in the rowboats, creeping just over the horizon toward him. As he stood, trying to grasp what had just happened and understand whether it was more reality or dream, he realized the maiden’s radiance still cast rays over his body, like moon beams. A solemn sadness lingered in her gaze as she stared distantly across the waves. He was fascinated by this elegant young woman who had the power to calm and walk upon the raging sea, defying all science and reason, and to fly wingless. Her voice flowed soft yet clear, like a memory and a lullaby in one. “Has time drifted my memory away from you? Do you not know me, Jorah?” She looked directly at him, and suddenly the glowing shell was no longer around her neck, but rested in her cupped palms, which she extended toward him. Just as abruptly, the truth hit him like a tidal wave as he remembered the unique treasure. “It’s you,” he breathed. “Larimar. I should have recognized you at once.” A playful smile hinted on her lips. “Perhaps not. I was thin as a stick then, underfed, and certainly not as magical.” He shared her smile. “I just didn’t expect I’d be lucky enough to run into you. How did you find me?” “I didn’t intend to. I was roaming the oceans, subduing another of my sister’s tempestuous tantrums, while seeking a mortal to help me. Any mortal would do, but I’m so glad to find you. I hope you’ve been well, though I’m afraid I’ve little time for friendly talk.” “Yes, I’m well, thank you. But go ahead, tell me what you need help with, and I’ll do my best.” Her gaze narrowed in worry, extinguishing the hint of joy in her eyes. “There’s a prophecy, about a serpent. Its due to come true at the next full moon. The serpent will awaken, to consume my people, for their blood is said to be the secret of its life source. You saved me once, so that I can save them now. But just like then, I can’t do this alone. I need your help again, my friend, if you’ll grant it.” Jorah nodded fervently, neither knowing nor caring how difficult a task he committed himself to. “I will do whatever I can.” A hopeful smile sparked in her eyes once more. “Then take this.” She held the seashell necklace toward him. “Find the way to the Serpent’s Bane. It’s a magic sword that only a mortal can find. The shell will keep you safe as you journey the ocean. It will protect you from my sister’s wrath, and from the serpent itself, when that time should come.” The shell that had hung around her neck now hung around his. He took the shell in his hands, admiring its shimmering beauty. He looked up to thank her, only to see the top of her silver head slipping beneath the surface of the water. He raced into the shallows and dove beneath the ocean, but she was gone. Jorah surfaced and swam back to shore. For a while, he just sat in the sand, staring out at the ocean, entirely bewildered. He had just met a Larimar Elf for the second time in his life.

About Christine E. Schulze

Christine E. Schulze has been living in castles, exploring magical worlds, and creating fantastical adventures and romances since she was too young to even write of such stories. Her collection of young adult and children’s fantasy books, The Amielian Legacy, is comprised of series and stand-alone books that can all be read separately, but also weave together to create a single, amazing fantasy. One of her main aspirations for The Amielian Legacy is to create fantasy stories with characters that connect with readers from many different backgrounds. Her current focus is to include racially diverse characters and those with disabilities. The latter is inspired by Schulze working with adults with autism and other developmental disabilities at Trinity Services in Southern Illinois. Schulze draws much of her inspiration from favorite authors like Tolkien, C.S. Lewis, and Diana Wynne Jones, favorite games like The Legend of Zelda, and especially from the people in her life. Some of her exciting ventures include the publication of her award-winning Bloodmaiden, as well as The Gailean Quartet with Words Matter Publishing. Her books for younger readers include In the Land of Giants and The Amazing Captain K. Christine currently lives in a cozy Hobbit hole, but you can visit her on her website: http://christineschulze.com. Website | Twitter | Facebook | Tiktok

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–Vincent Zandri, MOONLIGHT FALLS and THE REMAINS

“I’m so pleased every day when I look at Google Alerts and see our titles all around the blogosphere, so thanks for that!”
–-World Ahead Media

“This has been a wonderful experience. Dorothy Thompson and her whole team are very committed to each author, take each author’s tour very seriously, and work towards maximum exposure in the right places. This is the best book promotion expenditure I’ve made in terms of return on investment. I highly recommend Pump Up Your Book Promotion.”
--Phyllis Zimbler Miller, MRS: LIEUTENANT

"I used Pump Up Your Book promotions a few months ago for my novel, Nephilim. My publisher is a great person, but when it comes to promotions, she encourages authors to do that on their own. Enter Dorothy Thompson at Pump Up Your Book. I had 8 reviews of the book and was featured as a guest author every day of the week at various websites during the month that I used her company. Amazing! She secured everything for me which was really nice and I didn't have to do anything but write a few blogs or answer interview questions. I would use Pump Up Your Book again in a heart beat!"
--Mary Ann Loesch, NEPHILIM

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PUYB Book Trailer of the Week

Ring of Rosin by Nancy Golden

Question of the Day

How do you make sales happen for you?

A lot of hard work! I sponsor a lot of on line parties, festivals and contests. Book sales don’t magically happen, believe me. An author has to work hard to earn her readers. And then she has to work hard to keep them by giving them something they’ll enjoy reading. I try hard to make my books worth a reader’s time.

-- Sheila Roberts, Author of Winter at the Beach