Do you know the Firefly effect?🔥✨

Hey ,

This is the weekly Thursday NL for S.M. McCoy for all things fantastical sci-fi fantasy and paranormal adventures with a splash of romance.

I'll start off with some indie temptations before I get into the newsletter below. I'm just one author, but I find data fascinating, so I like to share my journey with you.

Indie Temptations:

After one magical, mind-blowing night I find myself bonded to my brother’s best friend.

Alex is the Alpha of his pack, and I am Fae… How is this even possible?

Read Alpha's Forbidden Fae with KU

A tavern maid, a palace spy, and an uprising that would shake the foundations of their lives by midnight.

Read Cinders with KU

A modern Greek myth retelling to rival Romeo & Juliet...

Read Prometheus' Priestess with KU

The Firefly effect in the indie book world

• Low Ratings

• Bad Marketing

• Late Sharing

The LBL is the death of an indie writer the same as it's the death of a good show.

Joss Whedon just came off the success of Buffy the Vampire Slayer and the spinoff Angel. So Firefly had a HUGE budget, and HIGH expectations to turn out ratings for Fox.

Fox wasn't willing to invest in "building" the Firefly audience over time, it wanted results and season one did not deliver while it aired.

Low ratings was the reason they didn't even air the last three episodes before shutting it down.

Readers/viewers are QUEEN to the entertainment industry. And it isn't any different in the book world. Low ratings can kill an indie before they even get started, and many great books disappear before they ever acquire a cult following like Firefly.

That's why it's so important for readers to rate and review books for indie authors. A missing review for a book like Fourth Wing won't stop the momentum of its success, but its success started somewhere, and enough reviews and ratings and readers talking about it turned it into the sensation it is today and taking the crown from Sarah J. Maas, who reigned supreme over people's social feeds for so long.

It doesn't even matter if everyone stopped reviewing Fourth Wing today, because too many people talk about it and it will continue to be talked about because there is something special about "sharing" an experience with so many people.

It's the same kind of high that runners get when they join a marathon. Gathering many people to enjoy the same thing together is powerful. People want to be a part of that feeling. So, it reaches even the people who read only one book a year. Encourages people who take months to read a book to read the same book in a week.

But, that high didn't happen out of the blue. It started with a rating, a review, a book nerd on the front lines that loved it and decided to tell their other book friends about it so they could live in that world just a little longer through the experience of someone else enjoying the book.

Bad marketing was the second reason Firefly failed, and even after 20 years and a huge fan base it's unlikely a tv show will have a reboot. The show was gritty and witty, and it was marketed as comedic. The show didn't appeal to people looking for laughs, sure it has them, but it wasn't reaching the right viewers.

I'll be honest, I was just starting high school at the time and they lost me immediately because I like to watch things in order, and this was before streaming was a thing. I didn't watch it because when it came on, it was in the middle of the story and I felt like I missed something. This was a marketing failure on Fox's part, as I'm an ideal viewer for the show, but they played the episodes out of order.

But, had there been a friend of mine that had watched it and said, "No, you really need to watch this." The need to be a part of something that a friend liked would have drawn me back in.

I can't tell you how many times I read a book simply because I wanted to read something that I could talk to another book nerd about.

I LOVE talking about books I've read, books I've written, well, books.

I just chatted my friend's ear off during a Saturday breakfast about a how I loved the narrator for Fourth Wing and I hope that I'll one day narrate for a book that thousands of people get to listen to one day and enjoy it like I enjoyed this one.

No, this isn't an advertisement for Fourth Wing, but I think it lives up to the hype! And it wouldn't have received hype without people talking about the book, sharing it with friends, and leaving a review.

Fox had high expectations for Whedon's Firefly and because of that they believed the show was a failure before it even started because it didn't receive the returned fan base of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. They didn't support the show to see the HUGE fan base it was capable of, and missed out on the chemistry between the cast members that just couldn't be replicated even if a reboot was made in the future. But after 20 years, it's unlikely.

To support books that you want to read more of, it's important to share your thoughts on books with others. The best part about sharing a book is not only does that person get to have a fun time reading it, but you get to live the experience all over again through them. It's super fun talking about characters together and telling them what your favorite parts were while comparing thoughts on the story.

There is certain amount of joy I feel in knowing I shared an experience with someone. And that feeling is tenfold for readers who share their enjoyment of stories that were birthed in my mind. This is fuel for an indie author, and helps us know that you enjoy what we're doing and like a pat on the butt that says, "keep it up."

Because of Fox's big budget on Firefly, they wanted to cut losses early. Didn't even air the last three episodes so they could fill the spot with something they believed would make back their money and held offset costs. Not having their eggs all in one basket, they traded out a new egg and tossed one they thought was bad. Fans weren't given the chance to spread the good word with other would-be fans yet about how good the show was, and social media really wasn't what it is today, and by the time it would catch on it was too late for the show.

I know when I was in high school, I didn't write reviews and I didn't post pictures about things. Unless someone said something about it, I didn't know about it. Word-of-mouth was everything. And being a creative myself these days, I make every effort to pay it forward and be supportive of fellow indies as best I know how.

This is why I decide to have my launch of Taking Medusa: A Greek Myth Romance Retelling be in October, and there are a few more months between now and launch.

The book was sent out to ARC reviewers in May, and I was building a team of people to read it and spread the word for months. Because that FIRST month is so important to whether a book finds readers or not. People are excited about NEW, and if I had launched my book when it was available in May and still only had a few reviews then the book is no longer new, and my chance to reach new readers declines.

Big publishers do the same thing. The book is ready, but they send the "proof" copy out to bookstores, influencers, review sights, newspapers, and more for several months building buzz around the book. Getting the name out there before the book is even out. Getting those pre-orders from excited readers.

As I'm a new author to the scene and small fry indie author, I need to give my ARC team time to reach the book through their TBR pile and leave their thoughts and reviews on the book before launch and reach my launch goal of 50 ratings/reviews by end of launch week.

50 reviews helps the book be seen better by the algorithms, and helps new readers find it and creates a wave that increases interest when the book launches. But beyond just algorithms, these 50 early adopters, if they like the book, help share the book with other people so they can re-live the experience with new readers and have a fan base to share thoughts with.

The best part about these reviews is that it helps indie authors like me to realign our marketing if we're off a bit, or missed something. Even big companies like Fox miss marketing sometimes, by evidence of Firefly when they marketed it as comedic instead of gritty and witty.

Early reviews help me see what were key things that stood out of the story for readers, what they liked, what they didn't, tropes that I know, but didn't really highlight and should have.

But most importantly, every story has a budget, and like Firefly, Book one is a first season, and an indie author has to make decisions on whether to spend the budget on launching book two, or investing in a new series all together that may hold more interest.

There are many indie authors that quit before they've seen their second book, some indies last one year before they realize they are spending more money on publishing than they are getting in returns on their investments.

Like any business, most fail before they reach profitability.

And Reader is Queen.

You decide what you want to read.

And it's okay to DNF a book that isn't for you.

Life is too short to not enjoy things.

But if you do enjoy something an indie provides, help support them in providing more for you by giving your free voice to other readers.

Share your love and tell others.

Take a chance on new things, you might just find your new favorite!

If you would like to read Taking Medusa early and be part of my launch team, you can email me back letting me know that you are excited and wish to help me reach that goal and are willing to review on the zon, I will add you to my ARC team and you can read for freesies. (I will be MIA for a few days, so don't be alarmed it takes me a little to get back to as I'm spending time with the kiddos and family.)

Help me reach new readers, and spread the word.

Start reading through Chapter 7 with BookFunnel:

https://read.bookfunnel.com/read/xxlxv6rzq4

Dark Prophecy

Love Triangle (but not ick like)

Fated Mates

Found Family

Second Chances

Monsters Vs Gods

Greek Myth Retelling

Modern Fantasy Adventure set in the lost city of Atlantis

Mermaids

Kraken

No Cliffhanger (Sets up the next book, but a complete standalone story)

Villains misunderstood (question who's the hero?)

Romantasy

First Person POV (third person prologue)

Available for pre-order on Kindle launching October 3rd 2023: https://books.steviemarie.com/takingmedusa

We are currently at 18/50 reviews with a 4.8 star average!

If you would like to support Taking Medusa and help give a cup of coffee, then please take a moment to grab the book from my indie direct store: https://payhip.com/b/07lFr where you can have the book automatically delivered to you through Bookfunnel for those who don't read with Kindle.

19/50 Review Goal on the Zon

Part of the ARC team? You can leave your review here: Review Your Purchases (amazon.com)

In the meantime, Her Alien Savior is now launched with my pen name Sky Robert available in KU! Https://books.steviemarie.com/heraliensavior

Support Taking Medusa a Greek Myth Monsters and Legends Retelling by grabbing your copy from the zon, become a verified purchase: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0C6NXSN7X

Add Taking Medusa to your GR TBR here: Taking Medusa (Dark Gods Rising, #1) by S.M. McCoy | Goodreads

LIMITED TIME grab Taking Medusa and read today from the Author store:

https://payhip.com/b/07lFr

Check out the hardcover here: https://payhip.com/b/oDOMj

Orrr pre-order the signed paperback! https://payhip.com/b/qwt9T

Happy summer! 💕

~Stevie, author of all things fantastical and otherworldly adventurous, mom of a few humans in training... including my hubby. Overall booknerd, and yes... I am writing this in my pjs. Why not?

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Check out Dark Gods Rising- Taking Medusa:

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0C6NXSN7X

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https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BSRBF8T9

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SNEAK PEEK Taking Medusa:

(Preview now available to read with Bookfunnel: https://read.bookfunnel.com/read/xxlxv6rzq4)

Washed up on the shores of Jacksonville, another person was found seemingly uninjured aside from the amnesia of how they got there, and signs of water in their lungs. It might have been considered one of the hundreds of drowning accidents in Florida that didn’t end all that badly… if it weren’t for the one thing all of them repeated in their accounts. They all swore they saw someone drowning, and when they tried to help they got caught in the current themselves.

All of them cited to be excellent swimmers, surfers, and even certified scuba divers with no sign of the drowning victim, unless you counted the people themselves.

Beach accidents weren’t all that uncommon, but my sister’s voice kept on nagging me to stay away from the water until things calmed down. She knew I liked to sneak off at night when the beach was empty. There was something about the ocean that called to me, but I kept my promise to my mom from years ago, at least partially in spirit. Staying away from the sea was because of the danger of sharks, so I always stayed close to the shore, never farther than I could stand. Most of the sharks that would come in this close are not aggressive, and well, I’d be more in danger of a stray jellyfish sting.

I dug my toes into the damp sand. Even without my wet suit, the cool water felt warm to me. It took concentration not to take the insulation suit off. I’d learned what hypothermia could do to a body, and I wasn’t going to let my dull senses trick me into a false sense of safety. Most of the odd near-drownings were down the shore where surfers liked to catch the break, and there was no reason to think someone else was out here, so I let the water rise, lapping at my shins. The dull shine of the moon reflected off the water’s surface, as I waded in.

I wouldn’t go out too far, I promised myself, but the call of the sea was always so difficult to resist. Being away from it for so long as I grew up only made me want it more.

Then I heard her screams.

All thoughts about how others had remarked on saving a drowning man had left me, and all I could do was act. Where were the noises coming from? Where were the sounds of disturbed waters loudest? I turned from my back to find her. Whipping around.

“Where are you?” I called out desperately.

“Are you–” her voice muffled and choked on another lungful of water. Was she another victim like the others? I was barely trained for this, everything I’d learned so far was basic first aid, and normal primary college curriculum. None of it so specific to how to save someone from the water without drowning myself, sure I’d learned CPR, but that didn’t really help me drag a drowning person out of the water.

It wasn’t like I was a lifeguard.

Should I go to her? Should I run for my phone on the shore? Or can I hope someone else comes by to hear both of our screams? She wouldn’t last long if I called for help, I knew that. It was me or no one, and I didn’t finally get accepted into the medical program to let someone die on my watch.

But what kind of help would I be?

Did it matter?

My help was better than no help. I swam out to where her noises were louder than the crashing of the waves on the shore.

“I’m coming!”

“–coming,” she gurgled, and I hoped I’d get to her in time.

The waves were swelling larger here, and even I was having trouble keeping my head above them. Black waters pushed me, and I had to dive through the current to reach her. I bobbed to the surface again straining to hear her, but the only sound was the waves on the rocks.

My heart rate picked up thinking the unthinkable, I was too late. I didn’t make it. It was much too dark to find her under the water by feel alone. I was just as likely to grab hold of a shark than a human body, or scrape myself on the rocks, or reef. The reef… how far out did I swim? Where was the shoreline?

Unless she came above water again for me to find her.

She was gone.

Scolding myself mentally, I should have gone to shore and grabbed my phone. Should have called for the police to set up a patrol. Get the coast guard to search the waters with lights, and boats. And trained professionals.

Maybe she wouldn’t be lost then, if I had done things differently.

Another wave crashed over me, catching me off guard and pulling me under. I tried to remember which direction the shore was, which direction I should have been pedaling to prevent myself from being swept out to sea, but I had been so focused on finding the girl. I got turned around.

My screams echoed in the water. Salty water burned in my throat in place of air. The tides taking me farther away from the shore. Pushing my arms and legs as hard as I could, I tried to make it back to shore, but the distance kept slowly gaining on me.

Was this what it was like for those other swimmers found on the shore half dead? The terror of realizing your fate was in the hands of the consuming sea whether you made it back as a statistic or alive?

It would have been worth it, I thought, if I had saved the girl. Seemed so final, and so unacceptable to trade my life for nothing.

My arms were aching, and my legs cramped up, seizing to a stop. So this was what drowning felt like? I guess Theo was right after all, the sea was a dangerous place.

It wasn’t the sharks that got me this time mom, I thought about how she always mentioned the sharks as the excuse to stay away from the sea. How I had used the sharks as the excuse to say I still kept my promise to her by staying safe by only dipping in a little.

My lungs burned, and by all accounts I should have been unconscious. I didn’t remember the last time the waves allowed me the chance to breath. Even if I touched the surface, my lungs had no room left for air.

Yet, I stared ahead in the darkness as my body floated with the current, until the seaweed wrapped itself around, holding me in place. Tangled up, the seaweed rolled me to the surface. Swaths of my hair were gently pushed off my face.

If I had breath to give, I would have given the goddess before me all of it. The moon lit her up in an ethereal glow, and her eyes were large and bright like a tropical mango. She was the most perfect dream, that I wondered if I had made it to the beach at all, or if I had decided to stay at home with my sister and I was tucked into bed.

This could only be a dream, and a sense of relief came over me.

Bizarrely enough, the goddess brought my hair up to her face marveling at the blonde strands. Twining it with her own dark waves, I would have gladly given her my hair if she asked it of me. Then her orange eyes met my own, and she startled at realizing I was observing her.

My mouth opened, water spilling from the sides wanting to speak with her, but only the sound of gurgles escaped. Whatever remaining bubbles in my lungs now gone, and the tightness in my chest grew until I was seeing spots.

Razor sharp teeth gleamed in her mouth, as she glared. A viciousness taking over the playful beauty she once wore. Her sticky hands grabbed the thick of my scalp, and pulled me under to twist with the surrounding kelp.

Under the water I heard her voice, “What are you doing away from the sea little nymph?”

My eyes grew wide as the dark spots closed in around me. Her dark hair glinted green floating around us both, blurring my vision. I tried to speak again, but no words came.

All I could taste was the salt, before I heard the word ’no’ echo in my ears. This didn’t feel like a dream, but a painful nightmare I couldn’t escape from.

“You know the rules,” she sounded torn, though I couldn’t decide whether that had more to do with talking through the water than any conflict to do with not eating me alive with those sharp razor fangs, “I’ll tell you what, I’ll delay telling the Lord of the Sea about your land dwelling if you give me your legs.”

And before I could answer her, or even be shocked by the obvious insanity of her offer, a last-ditch effort to breathe had me clawing for the surface. Then darkness consumed my vision, the last thing in my mind were those gleaming chompers as she gnashed in annoyance.

***

Waking to achy muscles, I felt like I’d ran a marathon, or in this case swam one. Despite the soreness, I was oddly comfortable. Blinking several times, my eyes had to adjust to the brightness before seeing myself in a cushion of colored tentacles. If my body listened to me, I would have jumped up in panic.

“I had the anemone sting you so that you wouldn’t harm them when you woke. It’ll wear off soon, but I don’t recommend moving unless you want them to excrete more toxins. They are harmless to most sea nymphs, you just have to give them a few fish to eat or some algae and they’re happy enough,” the girl from my nightmares explained. In the light of the day, her hair was the same color as the kelp, a rich green, and her eyes were a warm mango yellow. She was inhuman, but she didn’t seem as scary now as she did in the moon’s glow, but she also wasn’t flashing me those flesh tearing grinders.

My head was propped up on the rocks with a few anemones for a pillow, the salty water calmly sloshed against my ears. We were in some sort of enclosed pool, blocking the harshness of the sea’s waves, and my host’s head peeking out from the water in front of me, her mouth thankfully below the surface so I could pretend she wasn’t going to eat me.

“I can’t decide what kind of sea nymph you are,” she pondered, though her mouth was still hidden, and I only now realized I was hearing her through the water still clogging my ears, “I’ve never seen one quite like you, at least not in my lifetime. Most of your kind don’t look so much like a mortal, not since King Triton ruled that any offspring with mortals be stripped of their gifts at birth if they don’t live in the sea.”

She spoke as if I should know about what she was talking about, and all I could do was stare. My throat was raw, and my mouth felt like cotton, but I could breathe.

I thought I would croak my response, but odd enough I sounded normal, “I’m not a nymph.”

Waving me off she continued, “I don’t care that you’re a rogue, betrayer of the gods. Fuck them,” she said flippantly as she leaned back to float on her back, a large fin burst from the water splashing me with salt water. “Times have changed, they don’t want mortals to ruin their entertainment by being too aware of them. They get enough of a power boost from the myths, and bullshit media worship that they don’t want the responsibility of managing a bunch of temples and prayers again.”

My mouth opened and closed like a guppy, and she stretched, her fin on full display, sparkling in the sunshine like a rainbow. She was a freaking merperson.

“Plenty of people lose their phones in the water. I’m not completely cut off from the land dwellers… Plus, we like to take a few mortals for fun every so often,” she admitted sheepishly, but all I heard was the word ‘we’.

There were more, somewhere around here.

Wherever here was.

She leaned in, gathering her green hair to one side over her shoulder. “Have you always had legs?”

I sputtered on some water that crashed over my mouth remembering her previous question about bargaining for my legs. Was that why I was here? My wet suit was gone, and my legs were exposed, still numb from whatever toxin the anemone gave me.

“I won’t tell King Triton. I’m under oath to eventually tell him you exist, but,” she shrugged, “we can negotiate when that will be, and between just us fishes he’s not particularly fond of mortals, and let’s us do what we want as long as we stay in the sea and clean up our mess.” She winked, then glided up next to me, lifting herself onto the rocks.

And by mess, the only image in my mind, was merpeople chowing down on human meat.

“Do you eat them?” I couldn’t help but ask, now that her smile was on full display along with her large fin. She seemed pleased by this assessment and laughed. The sound that came from her throat was like sandpaper, and metal on metal grating, nothing like the voice I was hearing earlier. Even the anemone that had no sense of sound were startled into sucking all their tentacles back into their bodies by whatever awful vibrations that noise produced.

Rock met with the back of my skull, no longer cushioned by the sea creatures. My body slid down the slope into the pool of water. Still numb from the anemone toxin, I only floated at the top for a moment before my face sunk under with the rest of me.

“The Petite Mermaid was only half right,” her voice was melodic once more, “We do have beautiful voices… but only under the water.” Now that I thought about it, the only time I heard the cries for help the other night was when I was swimming with my ears in the water. Frantically searching for where the girl was drowning… I’d heard nothing.

I sunk deeper into the depths of the hidden alcove, surrounded by high rocks, and beautiful colors of sea life. I had been tricked by merpeople to drown, and I didn’t even believe in such things. This was a nightmare designed to make me feel bad for not believing my sister about the myths of gods and monsters.

Leave it to a dying breath to start believing I should have, considering what my own blood could do, but I had convinced myself that there was a scientific explanation. Something in my DNA, a mutation, an evolution of the human condition that let me heal faster.

This time when I sucked in a breath of water my lungs knew what to expect, and the shock of the salt burning wasn’t as bad. That’s what I told myself to cope with how desperately I wanted to claw at my throat. The merlady’s green hair covered her exposed breasts, seemingly plastered in spot as she circled around me, her fishy scales refracting like a silver rainbow fish. My eyes stung to watch her, but I’d face my death head on, I wouldn’t turn blindly into my final moments, I tried to convince myself.

That was easier said than done, when the anemone took my choice away of trying to run.

She was a deadly dream that might have been lovely to see if it didn’t mean it was the last thing I’d know. The vulture of the sea, she circled me, not making a move to save me from my fate.

“You’ve been away from the sea for too long nymph. The sea won’t drown you, but it won’t let you rejoin it without a cost either. I can take you to King Triton where you can swear your fealty, and most definitely receive punishment for trying to defy him.” I shook my head in panic, and this time when she laughed it was musical surrounded by the sea’s filter for her horrid screeching. “Or you can give me your legs, in exchange for my fins and the sea’s acceptance.”

Also equally terrifying, and unacceptable.

I shook my head once more, only this time it wasn’t a laugh I received in response, she clutched her hands around my neck, tightening, bruising my larynx.

A twitch in my toes told me the toxin was running its course. Survival was the only thing important, seeing Theo again spearheading my drive. I had to have the chance to tell her she could have been more convincing about staying away from the sea if she knew monsters like this existed.

What was the point in being vague about merfolk wanting to drown people?

Just the sea is dangerous, that’s all she had given. What bullshit! It didn’t matter that I might not have believed her, she didn’t even try.

My hands suddenly clawed for traction with the fishy bitch, nothing quite beats adrenaline to speed up the process of filtering out anemone toxins, it didn’t hurt that I’m sure whatever else was in my blood helped out. Was it magic? Was it a scientific anomaly? Did it matter? Thrashing in the water, she had more mobility with her fin than I did with my non-webbed extremities.

With our hands, legs, and tail preoccupied with trying to gain the advantage, I’d forgotten about the one key feature of this green merterror. Sharp rows of razor teeth ready to rip flesh from my bones.

When they tore into my shoulder, I hadn’t seen it coming, and the last bubbles of air trapped in my lungs filled with salt water. I was so angry blood pumped from my wound, turning our surroundings red with pain… and vengeance. I stopped trying to pry her hands from my throat, and instead wrenched on her hair to pull her from my shoulder.

“You’ll never,” she choked on her words, “leave the sea.” Her grip sagged, and sickly black lines traced around her lips webbing out across her cheeks and racing down her neck towards her heart, if she even had one.

An echo pulsed through the water, pushing me back against the rocks. My vision blurred but I could see large shadows quickly approaching, and I knew better than to hope they were sharks. At least that would have been normal, and this day was anything but normal.

“Seize her!” They ordered like there was some military guard that would come swarming behind them before reaching my attacker. For the briefest of moments, I thought they could possibly be here to save me from her.

“Princess Coraline!” It was clear they were not my reinforcements, or there to save me from her. They were more concerned with her wellbeing than my own.

“She’s not responding! How is this possible?” Their panicked voices faded. The rough arms of the other merperson, I had forgotten Coraline had mentioned there were more of them, dragged me across the water, barely conscious.

Just as she had warned, the sea wouldn’t let me drown, but it wouldn’t end my suffering either. Tiny bubbles entered my nose, and the corners of my mouth working their way to my lungs, enough to keep me alive, enough to keep me awake, but not enough to feel like my lungs weren’t exploding, burning acid and frying me alive.

Who knew the sea cared so much to make me suffer, but not enough to let me die?

Maybe the sea was as vindictive as I was?

I was more than willing to let this merterror die, if it meant I didn’t. And it wasn’t that long ago that I had thought the opposite. So willing to risk my life to save her, when she was drowning.

Not when she was trying to murder me for my legs.

Not very princess like…

King Triton, if he was real too, would not be pleased if princess meant something more than a title. Could I get to her in time to give her my blood? Could that heal whatever happened to her?

I wasn’t certain anymore.

Not when I was debating if it was my blood that was poisoning her to begin with. The black veins in her face turned gray, chalky, and her skin took on a sick pallor. Even her claws, and the tips of her fins were draining of color.

I was still bleeding from my shoulder, and I had reason to wonder if that was also the sea’s doing.

Healing fast was normal for me, but not now, not in the sea. I had to worry if maybe the princess had a toxin like the anemone. One that would prevent me from clotting, chumming the waters so even if she couldn’t kill me herself something else would.

“She’s gone,” a merperson whispered, “we can’t be the ones to bring her back like this.” Princess Coraline’s nectarine eyes stared off in the distance, vacant, and as the blackish-gray veins reached them they too lost their vibrancy.

“He’ll kill us all for letting it happen,” he warned his partner.

“If we’re lucky that’s all he’ll do.”

“We need to bring her close enough to the palace without being seen. Someone else will find her.”

“What about the nymph?” I wanted to cringe, but I was convinced now that whatever Coraline’s bite did, it definitely included a paralytic. Even if I wanted to… which I did, once she let go of me. I was too late.

I couldn’t save her now.

My heart clenched.

This wasn’t how I’d imagined losing the girl I thought was drowning, but somehow, I’d lost her anyway. Guilt tugged at me for being the reason she was gone. I had felt so angry, that in that moment I had wanted her dead, and now that she was I wish I could undo it. I was so willing to give my life for hers when I thought she was drowning, and yet when it came down to it I couldn’t let her have mine.

Not by force, not that way.

I’d die anyways, but now both of us would be gone.

How was this possible? How did everything go so wrong so fast?

“Something else can eat her, no one can survive this much blood loss from Coraline’s bite.” She did have a venom, but it didn’t just paralyze me… it stopped me from healing.

“She’s poisonous,” I wanted to scoff as them, so was Coraline, “I don’t feel good about letting her body rot so close to Atlantis.”

Were they talking about the Atlantis? The lost Atlantis? The sunken city of myth? I’d be excited if it weren’t for the circumstances. But they couldn’t be serious.

“You won’t feel good about what Triton will do to us if we stick around either. Princess Coraline always bends the rules and does what she wants, there’s nothing tying us to her. She has her pick of any Atlantian, and there’s too many for Triton to kill everyone that might have seen her last.”

“She’s his last living daughter…” he doubted his comrade’s assessment, obviously concerned about what King Triton would do to them, and considering if doing his daughter, a kindness of at least bringing her back to Atlantis would ease their punishment in some way.

“Was,” his co-conspirator amended.

“Fuck. We’re taking a risk even attempting to go back home. He could destroy the whole city just in the hopes that he kills someone that is associated with her death. He won’t care who’s collateral.”

“If they don’t go home then Triton will probably assume they had something to do with it and only target them instead of the whole city,” I thought. I mean, “Better them than a whole city, but how messed up is Triton for that to even be an option?”

“How is she still conscious?”

Did I say that out loud?

Under water?

Barely alive?

“The sea won’t let her drown…” The kinder of the two seemed to be in awe of me, and as my hair swished over my eyes, I saw him swim towards me.

“But she killed the last daughter of the seven seas, why would it save her?”

I scoffed. Save me? I was being tortured.

Waterboarding was a real thing, and I was living through it. Worse than anything I could have imagined. Trying to breath but opening my mouth didn’t change the fact that my lungs were already full of liquid. Full of salt that burned and shriveled up my sensitive tissue all while still being completely aware of what was happening.

Every pocket in my lungs felt like it was being seared, then healed then seared again. I could only begin to question if it had something to do with my superpower of being able to heal so fast, but fast enough that I was still alive. And little bubbles of oxygen found their way in only enough to stave off death. It was excruciating.

The sea wasn’t saving me, it was getting revenge.

“It doesn’t matter, the sea can’t stop her from bleeding out, but she’s right.”

“About what?”

“They’ll be looking for someone to blame when they find Princess Coraline.”

“This unknown nymph is not enough.”

“Exactly,” he schemed, “but we aren’t the only ones that could be missing from Atlantis. All we have to do is plant some of the princess’ poisoned blood on anyone that returns. The city is saved, and then so are we.”

“You’re both sick. Willing to murder someone else on the chance that your own lives will be saved,” I choked out.

How I was able to speak through all the water was still a mystery, but maybe the princess wasn’t wrong… maybe I was a sea nymph?

“Not any different than you,” he retorted while yanking me through the water. My vision still blurry, unable to make out his features, other than I was certain he was half fish like his friend dragging the dead princess’ body. Her green hair floating in a blur beside me.

“If you had died the princess would still be alive, and we wouldn’t be trying to fight for our right to live. So who’s the real monster little nymph? Whoever we have to take care of to live is on your soul, not ours.”

“It’s not ideal,” the other tried to explain, at least one of them had a small bit of conscience, “but if we took you back with the princess and explained things it would only make things worse. We would both die, and it’s very likely many innocent Atlantians would be punished in Triton’s rage. Doing it this way may seem cowardice, but we may well be saving more lives this way,” He trailed off and sighed, “even if we end up dying in the end our avoidance of punishment and schemes will distract Triton enough that the city may be saved.”

“Why are you trying to defend ourselves to her, she’s the reason we have to do this?”

Was I not any different than them? How is there not another way? Why are they so sure Triton will murder a whole city when I’m right here?

“Wait…” I couldn’t believe I was even going to suggest this, “there’s another way.”

“Fucking sea storms just let her die already!” The scheming fish traitor groaned in exasperation.

“I wish there was, but we can’t even be certain Triton won’t break his oath to the other gods and wage war on the mortals over this. The best we can do is cause a distraction that lasts long enough that he will see reason. I highly doubt we’ll be alive much longer than you. May Hades take mercy on our souls.”

If it weren’t for the more reasonable one of the bunch I wasn’t sure I’d force myself to follow through with an alternative. But it wasn’t just about them, it was about the people of Atlantis, if the place even existed. Or the victims of the other merperson’s schemes.

“She’s supposed to be immortal right? The daughter of a god?”

“Where is she going with this? Even gods and titans have been bested, though not usually by a rogue nymph.” He was obviously not my fan, and it didn’t matter if he was, but his jabs were making it difficult for me to still want to help them before I died as they so delicately informed me of my fate.

I had no extra air to huff out in frustration, and I was barely keeping it all together as it was. “There’s a chance I could save her.”

It was unlikely, I mean dead was dead, and not even I think my blood could bring the dead back to life. Then again if she’s the daughter of a god, and technically immortal… maybe. I mean worse case scenario I’m dead and they drain me of my blood to save as many people from the king’s wrath as possible.

“Plus… how do you know she’s actually dead?” Even I knew that part was a stretch, she was definitely dead. Dead as stone. She looked frozen.

“I don’t think you realize how much time has passed since we left the outpost,” the kinder merman pitied my naivety, “it’s been hours since her death. Your poison has turned her veins black and her skin gray. There is no way for you to save her, us, or yourself.”

It felt like minutes had passed. I must not have been as conscious as I thought. Who knew how much I had actually missed of their conversation during that time.

Still, I pressed on.

“Let me do it.”

“Do what?” The one with the kind voice humored me.

“Take her to Atlantis.” It would be like a two for one deal. I could see Atlantis before I died, and the princess wouldn’t be floating around the vicinity waiting for discovery in the sea. I suppose I could tack on this two would probably survive the king’s psycho streak, because they wouldn’t be involved.

“That’s exactly where we are taking you,” the merman I might not feel so guilty about endangering snapped.

“If I’m still alive when we get there, let me swim to the guards,” they must have guards there, “with the princess.”

“What good would that do?”

“Why are we even talking with her? She’s not going to live long enough for it to matter if the sentinels find her or if she finds the sentinels. And if she did live long enough we should probably knock her off now, so she doesn’t lump us in with her treason.”

That didn’t go the way I had planned. I was offering to take the blame and maybe explain with my dying croak that I had no idea how I killed her, but it was me. Maybe the sea was keeping me alive for this reason alone, atonement. So that I could be brought to justice, though I honestly don’t know why the sea was capable of keeping me on the edge of life and not an immortal mermaid, daughter of a god.

“Are you sure she’s dead?” I felt very dead, but I was still talking, while tunnel visioned, seeing spots, and suffering oxygen deprivation. how was my brain still functioning? It was almost as if the pain of bursting lung sacks was background noise, and the more I remembered that’s what was happening the more it hurt, and the more I focused on getting to Atlantis the less I noticed the torture.

“Dead enough that Triton will probably have to give her metamorphosis if there is any life left in her. It’s quite a beautiful ceremony. His youngest was turned to sea foam so she could still touch the land every time a wave rolls onto the shore.”

“She doesn’t need to know that.” The merman holding me squeezed my arm with a jolt.

“We don’t have to make her last moments tragic.” Ignoring his partner’s sentiments he continued, “I find stories to be a pleasant distraction when I’m in pain. Coraline’s mother was a sea nymph, you know. Against the wishes of Hera, Triton never wanted to marry and settle down with a goddess. So, he picked his mistresses among immortals that she wouldn’t force the issue with.”

He wasn’t wrong, listening to his soothing voice was making the pain more tolerable. And I wasn’t opposed to finding out more about the life I’d taken from this world. It was only right that I come to terms with the fact that no matter how justified my self-defense, to someone else this monster was a daughter.

“Did Coraline keep you around as bait? How did a guppy like you ever get chosen by her?”

“Maybe for the same reason Triton picked her mother, and any other mistress he’s had,” he wasn’t so much of a push over after all, smoothly he transitioned right back into the story of the sea god’s family, “His father favored him the most out of his children and gave him the highest honor of guarding the trident, ruling Atlantis, and being his messenger. Triton’s word was as good as Poseidon’s himself, and even if it wasn’t the sea god stood by whatever decision Triton would make. Rumor spread the reason Triton never married was because of how unhappy marriage made his own father. It was used to control him in the game between the gods.”

“You’re mucking it up. Poseidon pissed off Hera when he double crossed her during her attempt to overthrow Zeus. Triton knows that if he marries, Hera will fuck it up like she did with his dad making sure he’s stuck with a goddess that he doesn’t love, and having anyone he ever did grow to care about killed.”

“Shit,” the revelation threw the storyteller, “what if that is what this is?”

“Nah, Triton’s been a right prick even to his daughters after what happened to his youngest.”

“But all of them are dead now.”

I was following both of their logic the best I could, and from what I was gathering Triton was being punished for his father’s sins. But, how did I fit into all of this?

There is a prologue and one chapter before this one, so don't get too confused when you continue reading on Bookfunnel. This was Chapter Three: Drowning.

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