It's called Shatter Piece and it's a mix of Irish and Welsh Mythology with a bit of Norse Mythology sprinkled in for flavor.
It's about a girl named Sirame who, after the mysterious death of her parents, discovers that she's a Banshee and full-blooded Sidhe.
Twelve years later the gates to the Otherworld have opened and the Sidhe royalty is asking for all the young Sidhe who grew up outside of Tir Na Og to return and learn to wish their magick to fight the war against the Demons.
But is the enemy really who they seem to be? And why does it feel as if someone else is pulling the strings?
It's about chess. Specifically a type of chess known as Circe Chess which has some pretty cool rules.
I made my own rule based on one of the Circe Chess rules.
It's called a Shatter Piece (yes, the title).
In Circe Chess the pieces circulate, meaning once they die, they can reappear on the board during the player's next full turn. The pawns must reappear in a pawn space, but the other pieces reappear (or respawn if you play too many video games) on the space they were killed.
A Shatter Piece is when a pawn has been crowned and then dies on a pawn square. Both the pawn and a new queen piece are in a sense "shattered". A Shatter Piece can grant two queens to the player.
A Shatter Piece Check is when one or both of those pieces places the king in check.
Writing this has given me a newfound love for the game of chess, which is played haphazardly when I was younger. I'm based chapter titles off the moves of a game played by a grandmaster.
It's all pretty crazy even if the novel itself doesn't actually seem as if it's so complicated.
It's really, at the heart of it all, just about a girl discovering who she really is and the difference between good, evil, and the gray areas.
It's hard to post an excerpt when it's a bit confusing unless you read it from the beginning, but here's a little something:
“Ame! Grandmother's here!”
The small ten year old with chestnut curls jumped up from where she'd been playing in the dirt. She wiped her muddy hands on the floral spring dress she was wearing and smoothed the curls from her forehead before calling, “Coming mum!”
She tore through the blooming gardens, and flung open the kitchen back door to the three story Victorian style manor with relish as she shrieked, “Grammy!”
Her beloved grandmother's blue eyes sparkled. “Sirame, darling! Have you been digging in the garden again?”
“Of course! Mum planted white coral bells! Like the ones in the song!”
The girl's grandmother smiled as the little girl began to sing:
“White coral bells
Upon a slender stalk
Lilies of the Valley deck my garden walk.
Oh don't you wish
That you could hear them ring
That will happen only when the fairies sing!”
“Very good, Sirame! But you know you won't find fairies by digging in the dirt! Go change and wash up before your mother sees you.”
The very next day, Sirame went to stay with her Aunt and Uncle as her father, mother, and grandmother left for Ireland. “It's only for a week.” Grandmother soothed. “We'll be home before you know it.”
“But who will find the fairies with me?” Sirame begged with big teary eyes.
“Sweetie, you know what the song says.” her grandmother pulled out a handkerchief embroidered with roses that smelled of soft perfume which she used to dab at the girl's tears. “Just watch the flowers. The fairies can't resist white coral bells. When the bell rings that's when you'll find your fairies.”
The girl nodded and her grandmother pressed the sweet smelling handkerchief into her hand. “If you miss me, then just smell this and it will be like I'm there with you.”
Six days later, when Sirame let loose a haunting keening and knew her family was dead, she never noticed that the white coral bells began to ring.
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