So I decided to try out Createspace, because they don’t have a starting fee and it seems like they’re much faster at getting books out there to be bought than Ingram Spark is. I also made a shiny new cover. I will make another post once the paperback is available with a link.
Also, I changed a few things in the text for the paperback. The vast majority of these edits are just small things that probably aren’t even noticable (like typos or a few extra words), but I did add a longish passage to the middle of chapter sixteen. So in case you wanted to see it, but didn’t want to update the ebook through the Amazon website (go to Amazon > Manage My Kindle > find The Triplets and download the updated version), here it is:
She makes it outside without any problems. Still, Kaylor scans the open gardens around the castle once her feet hit the ground, making sure that no one’s out and about to see her. A bright, full moon illuminates the castle’s outdoor gardens before her, making it easier to find the path she wants to take. The stables are behind the armory, just through a small courtyard with some statues and hedges. It’s a church: Sarenian places of worship are outside, under the sky and the trees. Eleven statues stand in a circle around a central pedestal, where six larger, more elaborate statues face them. The Imperial Six at the center, the other gods surrounding them and waiting for instruction.
She hesitates for a second under the statue of Sheolida, Kaylor’s patron goddess. It’s said that all sorcerers recieve their powers from a corresponding god, and if that’s true, Kaylor’s powers come from this one. Her cold marble brow is furrowed, her right hand clasped around a stout sword and her left up and extended, ready to cast a shield. Kaylor lets out a breath, and glances at the other five gods in the center. Larosri, goddess of storms, watches her out the corner of her eye, her long hair and full dress billowing in a non-existant wind. Gweligen, goddess of languages, a snake twined around her right arm and a hawk perched on her left shoulder, smiles down more kindly. Together, these three goddesses are the Triplets.
On their right are Lefyrin and Theoloden, gods of life and death respectively. Lefyrin’s right hand is held up in the air, in the act of releasing a small, delicately carved sparrow. His left hand is clasped in Theoloden’s right. A nearly identical sparrow, slumped and clearly dead, is craddled gently in the god of death’s other hand. They are the Old Ones, the First Gods.
Reygreon, the Lone God, patron god of Flamestarters and god of fire, takes the last place in the circle. His eyes are somehow colder and harder than any of the others, and both of his hands hover just in front of his chest, craddling a small lick of flame.
Kaylor’s never been very religious, but she can’t help but feel as though the statues are alive and watching her. She tries to push aside her guilt as they stare down at her with judgment written upon their cold, marble faces. She has a good reason for doing this.