Enjoy these short introduction stories about Harrison and Sierra – the book comes out Friday, October 16th!

Harrison’s Story….

Nine-year old Harrison stood at attention in front of his father’s imposing wooden desk in the dark office that smelled like old cigars and…there was another strange smell but he couldn’t identify it. He wasn’t really sure that he wanted to. “You received an A minus on your mid-term. Please explain.”

Harrison looked down at the worn out carpet, wondering why his parents didn’t fix up this old pile of stones. The house seemed to be falling apart but they continued to attend every party and social event possible. “It was the highest grade in the class, father. In fact, it was the highest in the class by twenty points.”

His father huffed a bit. “Inexcusable. You are the next Duke of Selton. I expect better of you! Your family requires better of you! And you should expect better for yourself. Never accept anything less than perfection! As a future duke, you should raise your standards and live up to your name and the reputation of your ancestors!”

His father continued on, although the lecture was one that Harrison had heard many times over the years. Perfection? Why was his father lecturing him on perfection when the fireplace hadn’t even been cleaned out since last winter? Probably because his father hadn’t hired new staff to replace the ones that had been fired for one reason or another.

The phone rang and Harrison silently sighed with relief. “That will be all,” Harrison’s father snapped as he picked up the phone. “You leave for school again tomorrow. I will expect better reports in the next month.”

Harrison walked out of his father’s office, feeling relief that the lecture was finally over.

“Goodness, dear, what have you been up to?” his mother asked as she breezed by him on her way up the stairs. Her personal maid’s hands were gripping several bags from the upscale stores on Bond Street and King’s Road.

“Good afternoon, Mother,” he said stiffly.

In response, he received a breezy pat on the head as his mother moved on up the stairs to her room, obviously pressed for time to get ready for her next social engagement.

“Be sure to have a talk with your father, Harrison,” she called out when she was halfway up the curving staircase. “He mentioned something about poor grades this quarter. Not acceptable from my son,” and she waved her fingers in the air before disappearing around the corner. Harrison knew that she was heading toward her suite of rooms, which just happened to be in the opposite direction from where his father’s rooms were located. He’d always thought it was odd that his parents didn’t share a room, but hey, who was he to understand their relationship?

He walked stiffly through the foyer into the back of the house and out the doors. He didn’t speak to anyone and no one bothered to speak to him either. Servants at their estate were barely seen. Speaking to Harrison or a member of the family, other than a formal greeting if they hadn’t left the room before he entered it, was not allowed and grounds for dismissal.

He didn’t stop until he was out of the house and around the corner. When he climbed up the ladder in the stables, he looked around, ensuring that he wasn’t seen by any of the stable help. Up and up he climbed until he was at the top of the loft where the hay was stored to discourage the mice. He pushed the hay bales around until he could get to the open hay door and peered out.

Up here, where the silence of the afternoon could almost be felt, he relaxed and allowed himself to think. The atmosphere in the formal living area was so oppressive that he had trouble breathing sometimes.

Just then, off in the distance, he heard it. Faint at first, but the sound increasing as the group neared the creek.

Same time every day, he thought as he watched the boys joke and laugh with one another. They splashed in the creek, unconcerned with their clothes getting wet or the mess they were making with their shoes. Apparently, only future dukes were required to look presentable at all times – others in the village were permitted to laugh and have fun.

He wondered what it would be like to mess around like that, with no worries about repercussions. What would it be like to have friends that he could tease and laugh with?

At that moment in time, he made a vow. Someday, he would ignore all of the requirements of his title and just…do what he wanted to do. He wouldn’t care what the rest of the world thought about him!

And he didn’t want to be a duke. It was a boring, tedious life. He wanted to do something interesting. Something outrageous, like amble through the creek with his shoes on, laugh and have fun.

He sure wasn’t going to marry the “right” kind of woman. His mother had been the “right” kind of woman. All she seemed to do was spend money. Money he suspected his family no longer had.

No, when he got older, he would have enough power to do exactly what he wanted to do!

Sierra’s story….

“Dear heaven!” Sierra’s mother gasped when she caught sight of her daughter.

Sierra’s hands smoothed down the white dress, trying to keep her muddy hands away from the pink-satin ribbon around her waist. She knew she was in trouble. The entire front of her dress was muddy and her mother had specifically said to stay clean.

Sierra sighed, wishing she hadn’t seen the butterfly. But it had looked so pretty in the sunshine and her mother had been grumbling about some pictures or something stupid that they were supposed to do this afternoon. Sierra had been stuffed into this ridiculous dress hours ago, waiting on her mother to finish dressing Daniel, her little brother.

She’d tried to sit still, she thought to herself. She really had! But how often does one see a butterfly with iridescent purple, white, and black wings?!

“Sierra! How are you going to find a good husband when you can’t even keep your dress clean for one hour?” her mother snapped.

Sierra looked down at her shiny white shoes, confused. She was six years old. Was she supposed to start looking for her husband now? But…she didn’t even like boys! Not even her baby brother!

“Look at me!” her mother snapped again.

Sierra didn’t want to look up. She didn’t want to see the disgusted look in her mother’s eyes. Again. But she obeyed. Because she always obeyed.

“Yes mother,” she said, thinking that was the correct response, even though she couldn’t remember the question.

“Yes? Just yes?” her mother screeched. Her mother swung around, her eyes darting to Sierra’s father, who was covering his mouth, obviously try to hide his amusement. “Richard, can you…” she stopped when she caught sight of her husband. “Richard, you are not laughing, are you? This is not funny!”

Richard looked down at his daughter, her blond hair now all messed and mostly covered in mud. “No, you’re right dear. It isn’t funny.”

Sierra’s heart felt better. Her father might be saying it wasn’t funny, but the look on his face told her that he didn’t really believe that. She had one person on her side, she thought silently.

“Richard! The pictures are today! The photographer is arriving any moment!”

Sierra cringed. When her mother got that tone of voice, real trouble was brewing.

“I’m sorry, Mother,” she said, trying to allay the fight between her parents. “I’ll go upstairs and change,” and she was already sprinting up the stairs, ready to appease her mother’s anger. It seemed like she was doing that a lot lately.

Sierra burst into her room and pulled off the frilly white dress that she’d hated since the moment her mother had brought it home. Running into her bathroom, she scrubbed her face until her cheeks hurt, then grabbed another dress, the uncomfortable one that she’d worn for Christmas. Her mother had liked that one.

She was pulling it on over her head as she walked down the stairs.

“What are the neighbors going to think?” she heard her mother snap, obviously still ranting at her father. Sierra’s mother said that a lot, although Sierra wasn’t sure how the neighbors could see into the house so often. And the neighbors were awfully nosy. They seemed to think about what was going on inside this house more and more lately.

“Yes, dear,” she heard her father say as Sierra stepped back into the family room. The doorbell rang at that moment, announcing the arrival of the photographer.

Sierra smoothed her hair down, hoping that she once more looked presentable. It was a lot of work to be “presentable” she thought with a sigh, as she sat down in her place.

Sierra looked up and realized that everyone, well, except little Daniel, was looking at her. She had no idea that mud was still plastering her blond hair to the side of her head, she had another smudge of it going down her cheek and her lacy, white socks were torn and covered with mud. Not to mention, it was the middle of summer and she was wearing a red and green velvet dress with a green satin bow and white, lace collar. A Christmas dress, not a summer dress.

“What?” she asked when everyone, including the photographer, stared in shock and confusion.

Goodness, she thought as she went back upstairs to clean up and change yet again. This “presentable” stuff was going to drive her nuts!