Merry Christmas Eve-Eve

You didn’t think I forgot, did you? Back by tradition, Merry Christmas Eve-Eve! Good news for 2026 to you all, you will be getting at least two books from me next year. In Spring—aiming for May—the first book in my YA magical academy series, and then the final Enchanted Kingdom book (book 7) later in the year.

As for what I will be writing in 2026, I have finished the Enchanted Kingdom series and am so proud and pleased with how it all wrapped up. So next year I will be writing the third and final YA magical academy book and finishing up my fantasy duology (the first book is done). Seeking out a traditional publishing deal is somewhat on the backburner for now. I’ve been sitting on multiple amazing stories for three years and feel as if I am trying to force something to happen that simply isn’t happening. Multiple people I’ve talked to have agreed that the book markets seem to be shifting. To what? To where? No one knows.

My dream has always been to have my books in bookstores everywhere. To be able to walk into a random Barnes & Noble and find my titles. That is still a dream I hold, but one that I am seeing more realistically now. Traditional publishing is first and foremost a business, and they are not always willing to take risks on something raw and new. Something different. And while that’s frustrating at times, as I feel all of us who are readers have been yearning for something different, again, it is a business, and it is what it is. All I can do is write stories that I love and get them to my readers one way or another. And let me tell you, these last few stories that I have written have been an absolute honor to get to write.

I am still so in love with the writing process. That part I still love with everything in me. I love these stories, and if all I ever do is self-publish, then at least all of you will still get to meet these characters and see these worlds. I am still writing all these years later because of my readers, because you guys were willing to jump genres with me, and I cannot thank you enough for staying with me. I think you will find the YA magical academy series blends my YA roots with the fantasy fun we’ve had in Enchanted Kingdom. I wanted a truly age-friendly magical academy series, so I went out and wrote the dang thang. I’m honestly tired of you not having it. In the words of the great Rafiki: It is time.

But hang on before you get too excited. Last year for your traditional Eve-Eve gift from me to you with love, I already gifted you the start of that story, so I decided I’d give you a little teaser of Enchanted Kingdom 7 instead, the entire opening scene. I hope it holds you over to next year!

And hopefully I will feel the need to hide away less this next year. Holding patterns of life are never fun, yet I find a grateful sort of defeat in mine. Will I find a literary agent and get the publishing deal someday? Who knows. I’m not sure. I cannot control those things. What I do know is that I will be out here writing my butt off, bleeding these stories into existence, and handing over these stories of hope. You’ve always kept them safe for me anyway.

Merry Christmas. Happy Everything! May your 2026 be good to you! And in case no one has told you lately: You. Are. Enough.

Much love to you all,

-Tricia

Now without further ado… Prologue

Alani

My yawn threatened to swallow me whole. Should a yawn be able to do such a thing. In my current state of exhaustion, I couldn’t form a thought on it either way. Was the yawn the abyss I could step into . . . or was I myself the hole? A hole in the actual sense of the word, of course, not the jerkish sense of the word. Though even in my current state I knew that sense of the word also applied. All of the above then.

I grabbed the next book from the cart and gave it a pat, before I wiped it down with a towel, ensuring there was no dust on the cover. I preferred restocking books for Hattie right now rather than being outside with all the orphanage kids. I loved them dearly, but they were loud, and I was shot.

I tucked a piece of my curly blonde hair back behind my ear toward the rest in its bun and reached for the next book, ready to repeat the process. I’d never been adopted, so my consolation prize was to have a permanent spot here, working for Hattie. The bottom floor of the orphanage consisted of a playroom, the kitchen, and the library for Nerede, the upper portion where the rest of us lived. I lived among books, but also children who needed some love. Honestly, Hattie was slowing down and needed the help too. Most days I loved being with the kids. Just not this particular one. I was tired, and they were so very loud.

On I moved to the next book. I hadn’t done this the past two days, so I had dozens of books in the library portion of the orphanage to shelve and get caught up on. In the direction of the playroom, I heard a screech of a cry before it soothed out. Likely Hattie helping one of the younger kids.

I spun back to the shelves as I heard the jingle of the bell on the door, signaling what was likely a Nerede patron of the library coming to peruse the books. Not wanting to lose the spot for the book I had already found with one hand, I quickly finished the book I was on, sliding it home. Out of habit, I had the next book in hand, as I spun to greet the person.

And ran smack into his chest. “Hi.”

“Alani, what do you think you’re doing?”

Still in his chest, I mumbled. “It’s nice to see you too, Prince Warrick.”

I stepped back and looked at his towering form. We’d both grown up in this place, but he’d wound up a prince and got relocated to the castle. He was in his late twenties now, all grown into his role as the heir of Wylan. He was the walking epitome of a rags to riches story, while I’d merely been the rags.

Castle life had done him well though. His facial hair was trimmed nicely against his brown skin, chest broad from days and days training with a sword. He’d be much easier to hate if I didn’t already know he was hard-working. And despite some unwarranted jealousy I felt toward his life circumstances, I could also admit he’d make a fine king someday. Just like his father. Warrick Valanova was many things, but cruel he was not. Despite this harsh greeting.

He yanked the book right out of my hand. “Alani.”

“Prince Warrick.”

“Where were you last night?”

I picked up the next book and began wiping it down. “Here of course. Caring after the children. Stocking the library. Helping Hattie.”

“You look tired.”

I squinted at him. “Isn’t your Assemblage starting next week? You really should work on your flirtations with women if you think it’s acceptable to comment on if a woman looks tired.”

“Answer the question, Alani.”

“I already did. I was here.” I looked around him, which was difficult. He was tall and wide both. Thick in the muscular sense of the word. Also thick headed. “Shouldn’t you have guards with you?”

“They’re outside. I wanted to talk to you. Alone.”

“Lucky me,” I snarked, just to annoy him.

“I know what you’ve been up to, Alani.”

I stole a deep breath. “Respectfully, Prince Warrick, you haven’t been privy to the day-to-day orphanage life in some time.”

“Stop deflecting.” He took a step closer and lowered his voice to almost a whisper. “You always were an artist.”

“I hardly think my watercolor paintings at age four were much,” I argued.

“I know it’s you,” he tried again.

I grabbed the book out of his hand and swapped it for the one in mine. “I don’t know what you mean. And here. This one seems more your speed, what with your Assemblage coming up and all.” The book in question had a woman with an obvious display of cleavage on the cover. I smiled up at him, proud of myself.

He looked at it before blinking quickly a few times and giving his head a hard shake. “Alani. I’m not asking you to admit to me that it’s you, the person who has been painting graffiti on the homes of the loyalists to the dead king. All I am asking you to do is to be careful. You’re making a dangerous set of enemies.”

He would know. They called him the bastard prince. Some of Theon’s loyalists unhappy he was the heir when he was not Jorah and Krew’s son, not of both the king and queen’s bloodline. They preferred one of his brothers to him, or maybe just preferred to irritate King Krewan. It had started as whispers but had only gotten worse over the past few years. I suspected that was why his parents pushed for his Assemblage now. To smooth things over with his public image.

“I feel as if you have enough troubles of your own to worry about here, Prince, but I will take that under advisement for my book shelving activities.”

He whispered again, “Savaryn is arming themselves. Trying to set a trap for the Graffiti Bandit.”

I whispered back, “I don’t know who the Graffiti Bandit is, but I think they are doing you a favor, Warrick. Particularly with an Assemblage coming up.”

His gray-blue eyes never left mine. “I’m not disagreeing. I just don’t want them to get hurt. Also, you’re a terrible liar.”

I shrugged. “How many times have they done this now? A dozen?”

“But tensions are thick. Assemblage business and the Graffiti Bandit at large. Add that my mother has hired a reporter for the Assemblage duration, and there is an air of anticipation in the higher levels of the kingdom. An . . . unrest.”

“Maybe you should make a trap of your own,” I offered cheerfully.

“Don’t tempt me, Alani.”

One of his guards peeked his head in and made a gesture of five with his hand before a looping motion with his finger. It appeared his interrogation needed to be done soon. Thankfully. “Let me help you check that out before you go.”

He held it back out toward me. “I’ve already read it.”

I choked on a laugh, and for a minute he was back to being that silly but kind boy I grew up with. “Glad to see you take Assemblage prep seriously, My Prince.”

I moved to grab the book from him, but he didn’t let go yet. “Please be careful. Promise me.”

For a brief moment, his prince mask fell, and he looked as tired as I felt. “You don’t need to worry about me. I’ll be fine.”

“I always worry about you. All of you.” And with that, as swiftly as he arrived, he was off, back to the castle.

I went back to the books. Back to the mundane. I took a deep breath as I took the cleavaged lady to her home in the romance section.

“Do I need to be concerned?”

I nearly jumped out of my skin. For an old woman, Hattie was extremely soft footed. There wasn’t a thing that went on in this place that she didn’t see or know about. I wasn’t sure that she wasn’t Enchanted after all. “No, Ms. Hattie. He was just checking in.”

She looked over the top of her bright pink reading glasses at me. “Did he suspect what I assume?”

“Which is?” I asked innocently.

“Your late-night dealings.”

“Why, Hattie May! The way you make me sound right now.”

She rolled her eyes hard. “If the rumors are true, there were two new graffiti messes found on homes in Savaryn this week. You’re either cocky or getting reckless.” She shrugged. “Or both.”

I made sure to look her in the eyes. “I rather think the Graffiti Bandit is doing it before the Assemblage is called for a reason, don’t you think?”

“I’m sure the Graffiti Bandit could just speak with the prince, take the concerns directly to the source.” With a pointed look, she walked off.

I reached for the next book and muttered, “But where would the fun be in that?”