Welcome to Olympus, where the Muses of Greek Mythology are charged with the responsibility of discovering, inspiring, and guiding the young incarnations of legends past until they once again take the form of greatness.
Embark on an enchanting journey through Architects of Illusion (Echoes of Olympus, #1), a YA fantasy novel series inspired by my backyard neighbors, Biltmore Estate, in honor of George Vanderbilt‘s extraordinary legacy.
TWILIGHT PEEKED through the woody vines that dipped and climbed the terrace arbor, caressing clusters of violet blooms that dripped honey into the humid air.
I closed my eyes and filled my lungs with the sweet scents of spring. A brazen breeze snatched at my wild copper curls, entangling them amongst the sticky fingers trailing from the trellis.
“Need some help with that?” a familiar voice chuckled behind me.
Apparently I did. The curious creepers continued to wind through my hair, making their way around my shoulders to wrap around my arms. “What are they…doing?” I giggled, slapping at a tendril that tickled my ear.
“Trying to steal you away,” Seok whispered, his fingers grazing the tender flesh of my neck as he worked to free me. Every brush of his hand sent my heart spiraling. “They must like you, Anise. I’ve never seen them quite so…animated.”
The wile wisteria snaked away from Seok’s reach, ensnaring me tighter in an effort to pull me from his grip.
“Whoa!” I screeched, as the vines swiftly swung me off the ground. The lavender ceiling parted seconds before the powerful plant lifted me through the top of the arbor.
“Hold on!” I heard Seok shout moments before his footsteps pounded away.
The sneaky thief loosened its hold, gently dropping me on top of the trellis. My frustration was swallowed by the stunning view. The fading light was brushed with radiant red and glistening gold that slipped silently into the horizon.
A panting Seok leaned over the South Terrace wall above me. “Are you hurt?” he asked in alarm, his chiseled features blurring into the shadows.
“No. I’m…fine,” I stood, gingerly, testing my weight on the planks.
“Reach for my hand. I’ll pull you up,” Seok urged.
I couldn’t see a foot in front of me, much less find his hand. “It’s too dark,” I sighed, stumbling over a gap in the latticework. “I wish I could see where I’m going, before I break my neck,” I muttered under my breath.
The blanket of blossoms surrounding me began to glow. A wave of violet light washed across the entire arbor like a thousand fireflies. I picked my way through the pulsing plants, marveling at their luminous beauty.
I looked up to find Seok grinning. “That’s why they call it Wishteria,” he reasoned, basking in this newfound knowledge. “Now would be a good time to wish yourself down.”
© 2014 Samantha Redstreake Geary
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