What Legends are Made Of
Beck, Heather
ISBN: 9781897381427
Paperback; perfect bound; 5.5 x 8.5
Sample Excerpt, © Rain Publishing Inc.
Introduction
Have you ever experienced a story filled with so much suspense, terror, and romance that you just couldn’t get it out of your mind? Be prepared to feel all of these emotions because I’m about to take you on a journey that you’ll never forget.
You’re personally invited to tour the halls of Sir Tristan’s Estate, a place where ghosts roam freely and enter into your dreams at night. Following your stay at the estate, you’ll cruise on the Blue Oceana, the perfect place for sightseeing. With patience and a careful eye you might see the merman that lives in the crystal clear ocean. If you enjoyed watching the odd ocean creature while aboard the ship, you’ll love Frank Stanford’s Freak Show. There you’ll see a unicorn with wings and a talking tree. However, it’s the freak show’s horrifying main attraction that shocks everyone who sees it. If you can stop shaking after your encounter with freaky Frank, continue on to Karyn and Max Shield’s Costume and Magic Shop; just be careful of what you purchase there—the merchandise at the Shield’s shop is a little bit too realistic.
Some stories make your heart soar while others make you scream aloud; these stories will make you do both. They’ll leave you spellbound and yearning for more. Ready to find out what real legends are made of?
Sir Tristan’s Estate
Twenty-year-old Skye Huntington gazed out the airplane’s window as it descended towards the ground. Her view of the tree covered hills was obscured by the settling dusk. She turned her eyes towards the brightly lit runway and watched as the neon orange line simultaneously grew closer and lost momentum.
Skye grasped onto the sides of her chair as the airplane made shaky movements. Images of the causation for her presence on the airplane flooded her memory.
Skye Huntington, photographer for America’s Amazing Architects Magazine, was sprung with the assignment to photograph Sir Tristan’s Estate just a week before she was due to leave for the excursion. Honored that the editor of the magazine would choose a photographer who had only been working professionally for a year, Skye enthusiastically accepted the assignment.
Unbuckling the airplane’s seatbelt and anxious to stretch her stiff legs on Virginian ground, Skye was still satisfied with her decision to tackle the job.
She was assigned to capture the sadness behind the Sir Tristan Estate through photographic film. Skye knew very little about the estate; however, what she did know intrigued her.
The Sir Tristan Estate was built in the late eighteenth century by the Tristan’s. It had ten acres of cotton fields, which thrived on the maintenance done by slaves. Although the failure of the estate was partly due to the loss of the slaves, this occurred before the civil war and Abraham Lincoln’s declaration of human rights. Because the freeing of the slaves from the Sir Tristan Estate was wholly dependent on the actions of Sir Tristan himself, the government of Virginia honored Sir Tristan by naming estate after him. The government’s decision to do so was not a difficult one. Sir Tristan was, quite literally, a martyr, with ambitions to free all the slaves of the South and gain equality for women. Although Sir Tristan achieved many of his goals, they came with a price—his happiness.
Sir Tristan, an only child, died alone in the estate on October 28, 1860. He was unmarried and left no heirs. After his death, the Sir Tristan Estate became the property of the Virginian government, who turned it into a profitable tourist attraction and Bed and Breakfast one hundred years later.
That was the extent to which Skye’s knowledge of the estate went. Perhaps that is why the editor of America’s Amazing Architects Magazine had requested the presence of a historical interpreter.
Skye watched as the conveyer belt turned around and around. Her eyes scanned the surplus of luggage until a familiar dark green suitcase passed by. Skye grabbed for the suitcase before it could make its second trip around the belt. Although her eyes were alert, her mind was foggy. Coming from the hot state of California, the damp night air of Virginia was enough to give Skye a light sample of culture shock.
Skye whistled down a taxi and was pleasantly surprised when the driver exited the vehicle to help her put the dark green luggage into the trunk.
“Thank you,” Skye said sincerely, as the taxi driver secured the trunk and opened the door for her.
“My pleasure,” the taxi driver, who was a young man of about twenty five years, replied. “Where to?” he asked casually in a thick Southern accent. He climbed back into the taxi and fastened his seatbelt.
“The Sir Tristan Estate, please.”
The taxi driver turned backwards in his seat to cast Skye a curious glance. “Excuse me, miss,” he asked in confusion.
“The Sir Tristan Estate,” Skye repeated her words slowly, in case the accent difference was the barrier to the understanding of her instructions.
“Are you sure you want to go there?” the taxi driver inquired.
“Of course,” Skye replied, getting a tad annoyed at the driver’s uncertainty. “Is there any reason why I wouldn’t want to go to the estate?”
“Yes,” the taxi driver said dogmatically.
“And why is that?” Skye demanded, when the driver failed to offer an explanation for his dramatic behavior.
“It’s been closed for a week.”
Skye’s eyes widen in surprise. “That’s not possible,” she protested, after the mild shock had worn off. “I’m here on business. My boss has made arrangements for me to stay in and photograph the Sir Tristan Estate.”
“Oh,” the taxi driver muttered, finally turned forward in his seat. “I guess they made an exception for you.” The driver’s action of putting the key into the ignition signaled his desire to end the conversation. However, Skye was no where near satisfied with her current amount of information.
“Why have they closed the estate to the public?” Skye inquired, as the taxi driver merged into traffic……..
Beck, Heather
ISBN: 9781897381427
Paperback; perfect bound; 5.5 x 8.5
Sample Excerpt, © Rain Publishing Inc.
Introduction
Have you ever experienced a story filled with so much suspense, terror, and romance that you just couldn’t get it out of your mind? Be prepared to feel all of these emotions because I’m about to take you on a journey that you’ll never forget.
You’re personally invited to tour the halls of Sir Tristan’s Estate, a place where ghosts roam freely and enter into your dreams at night. Following your stay at the estate, you’ll cruise on the Blue Oceana, the perfect place for sightseeing. With patience and a careful eye you might see the merman that lives in the crystal clear ocean. If you enjoyed watching the odd ocean creature while aboard the ship, you’ll love Frank Stanford’s Freak Show. There you’ll see a unicorn with wings and a talking tree. However, it’s the freak show’s horrifying main attraction that shocks everyone who sees it. If you can stop shaking after your encounter with freaky Frank, continue on to Karyn and Max Shield’s Costume and Magic Shop; just be careful of what you purchase there—the merchandise at the Shield’s shop is a little bit too realistic.
Some stories make your heart soar while others make you scream aloud; these stories will make you do both. They’ll leave you spellbound and yearning for more. Ready to find out what real legends are made of?
Sir Tristan’s Estate
Twenty-year-old Skye Huntington gazed out the airplane’s window as it descended towards the ground. Her view of the tree covered hills was obscured by the settling dusk. She turned her eyes towards the brightly lit runway and watched as the neon orange line simultaneously grew closer and lost momentum.
Skye grasped onto the sides of her chair as the airplane made shaky movements. Images of the causation for her presence on the airplane flooded her memory.
Skye Huntington, photographer for America’s Amazing Architects Magazine, was sprung with the assignment to photograph Sir Tristan’s Estate just a week before she was due to leave for the excursion. Honored that the editor of the magazine would choose a photographer who had only been working professionally for a year, Skye enthusiastically accepted the assignment.
Unbuckling the airplane’s seatbelt and anxious to stretch her stiff legs on Virginian ground, Skye was still satisfied with her decision to tackle the job.
She was assigned to capture the sadness behind the Sir Tristan Estate through photographic film. Skye knew very little about the estate; however, what she did know intrigued her.
The Sir Tristan Estate was built in the late eighteenth century by the Tristan’s. It had ten acres of cotton fields, which thrived on the maintenance done by slaves. Although the failure of the estate was partly due to the loss of the slaves, this occurred before the civil war and Abraham Lincoln’s declaration of human rights. Because the freeing of the slaves from the Sir Tristan Estate was wholly dependent on the actions of Sir Tristan himself, the government of Virginia honored Sir Tristan by naming estate after him. The government’s decision to do so was not a difficult one. Sir Tristan was, quite literally, a martyr, with ambitions to free all the slaves of the South and gain equality for women. Although Sir Tristan achieved many of his goals, they came with a price—his happiness.
Sir Tristan, an only child, died alone in the estate on October 28, 1860. He was unmarried and left no heirs. After his death, the Sir Tristan Estate became the property of the Virginian government, who turned it into a profitable tourist attraction and Bed and Breakfast one hundred years later.
That was the extent to which Skye’s knowledge of the estate went. Perhaps that is why the editor of America’s Amazing Architects Magazine had requested the presence of a historical interpreter.
Skye watched as the conveyer belt turned around and around. Her eyes scanned the surplus of luggage until a familiar dark green suitcase passed by. Skye grabbed for the suitcase before it could make its second trip around the belt. Although her eyes were alert, her mind was foggy. Coming from the hot state of California, the damp night air of Virginia was enough to give Skye a light sample of culture shock.
Skye whistled down a taxi and was pleasantly surprised when the driver exited the vehicle to help her put the dark green luggage into the trunk.
“Thank you,” Skye said sincerely, as the taxi driver secured the trunk and opened the door for her.
“My pleasure,” the taxi driver, who was a young man of about twenty five years, replied. “Where to?” he asked casually in a thick Southern accent. He climbed back into the taxi and fastened his seatbelt.
“The Sir Tristan Estate, please.”
The taxi driver turned backwards in his seat to cast Skye a curious glance. “Excuse me, miss,” he asked in confusion.
“The Sir Tristan Estate,” Skye repeated her words slowly, in case the accent difference was the barrier to the understanding of her instructions.
“Are you sure you want to go there?” the taxi driver inquired.
“Of course,” Skye replied, getting a tad annoyed at the driver’s uncertainty. “Is there any reason why I wouldn’t want to go to the estate?”
“Yes,” the taxi driver said dogmatically.
“And why is that?” Skye demanded, when the driver failed to offer an explanation for his dramatic behavior.
“It’s been closed for a week.”
Skye’s eyes widen in surprise. “That’s not possible,” she protested, after the mild shock had worn off. “I’m here on business. My boss has made arrangements for me to stay in and photograph the Sir Tristan Estate.”
“Oh,” the taxi driver muttered, finally turned forward in his seat. “I guess they made an exception for you.” The driver’s action of putting the key into the ignition signaled his desire to end the conversation. However, Skye was no where near satisfied with her current amount of information.
“Why have they closed the estate to the public?” Skye inquired, as the taxi driver merged into traffic……..
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