Dear Writing Diary Entry #28

My Debut Fantasy Novel THE FATED is Finally Published!

February 25^th, 2025

In this entry, I discuss my recent publication of my novel, and a special opportunity to receive a signed Bookplate and digital boarding ticket! I will also include a special exclusive excerpt from the book at the end.

Dear Writing Diary,

I’m thrilled to finally be able to say my debut novel THE FATED is out in the world! This launch week has been busy in the most wonderful way. I’ve especially loved hearing from my ARC Readers who have by far been some of the most supportive and kind people I’ve met on this journey, and I’m so grateful for them. THE FATED is available on multiple platforms, including Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, and more. See where to purchase the novel HERE.

I. What is THE FATED about?

Every sixteen years a luxurious ocean liner known as The Fated appears at the docks to carry a few lucky passengers to paradise. Yet when people onboard begin disappearing, one woman soon discovers their destination might not be paradise after all.

Amarra Obrel never expects to receive a ticket in the mail. Ever since failing her chance at becoming a concert pianist three years ago, she has spent her days as an elevator operator, resigned to the uninteresting future that seems set before her. When given the opportunity to embark on The Fated, however, she boards with the hope of starting a new life. Yet she soon senses something dark and sinister lurks beneath the ship's decadent halls, ornate ballrooms, and opulent jazz clubs. When people close to her begin disappearing, she is left with no other choice than to set out and uncover the vessel's secrets along with fellow passenger Kye-Shin Hura. But instead of providing answers, every discovery leads to more questions—questions about why they were selected for this voyage in the first place and more disturbingly: If not to paradise, then where exactly is The Fated taking them?

With cinematic and haunting prose that blends the genres of fantasy, magic realism, and paranormal, The Fated is the perfect suspenseful and atmospheric read for fans of The Night Circus, Titanic, The Great Gatsby, and The Midnight Library.

II. How to Receive a Signed Bookplate & Special Digital Boarding Ticket!

For this book launch, I’m thrilled to be offering readers (based in the US only due to mailing costs and other expenses) who purchase a copy of either the e-book or paperback from any retailer the chance to receive an autographed copy sticker and a bookplate signed by me. All you have to do is fill out this FORM to submit your receipt.

Additionally, you will receive a digital artwork designed in the form of a boarding ticket to The Fated I created for this special occasion!

III. Excerpt from THE FATED

CHAPTER 1 - HAUNTED

Even while dreaming, I can never escape The Fated.

The ship slices through the fog like a black and white metal beast. Some of its windows glow yellow, ghostly against the dim suffocating backdrop of mist, while others remain dark, and I always shudder from the sense that something is watching me deep from within their churning shadows. Then like a spirit, I materialize onboard, drifting aimlessly, restlessly, towards something I can no longer remember.

With the night wind slashing across my face, I walk the decks of the vessel meant to carry us to paradise. I wander through the ballroom bursting with people in silk, velvet, and chiffon dancing to a familiar melody whose notes echo eerily off the vast ceiling. I pass by dimly lit lounges, their white-clothed tables littered with glasses that never go empty.

Beneath my feet, the ship lurches, and I stumble. Above me, the chandelier tilts, its glittering crystals trembling as if in fright. Around me, people laugh and shout over each other, not caring about the rough waves outside, or the current beneath them rapidly pulling us into the unknown. Into our terrifying, unsuspecting fate.

When I recall my joy at first beholding The Fated on the docks, I can’t help but scoff at my naivety. At my ridiculous, child-like faith. I should have known, somewhere beneath my intoxicating optimism, that neither I nor anyone else could be saved so easily.

But I didn’t know. I could not have begun to imagine what wonder, terror, grief, and yes, even happiness awaited me on that gray endless sea.

For if I had, I might never have dared step foot on that ship.

CHAPTER 2 - GIRL IN THE GILDED BOX

Everything begins when the ticket arrives on a Wednesday.

I’m not at home as the envelope falls through the mail slot of my apartment at nine o’clock in the morning. Instead, I’m miles away, working at the department store near the center of Abeon City and past the river slicing straight through its heart. I might as well be on the other side of The Veil.

Today’s shift is every bit as monotonous and agonizing as usual. No—it’s worse.

A cheerful ding resounds through the small space as the elevator jerks to a halt.

“Third floor,” I say with forced brightness, gripping the handle and sliding the door open with a groan. “Women’s wear and accessories.”

I have no time to step to the side before the riders stampede by. The toe of a leather shoe nicks my ankle. A woman’s satin-covered shoulder slams into mine. My startled gasp is lost amid the clamber of heels on the marble floor and women’s cackles.

When I gaze out at the spectacle that is the sales floor, however, for several seconds I forget to care.

Palm trees rise over tables hidden beneath rivers of chiffon, velvet, and taffeta. Customers amble beneath arches woven with pink orchids and bluebell flowers. Lixirites as large as compasses glitter a thousand different shades in the light from inside the cases.

Apart from the fabric, none of it’s real of course. The palm trees are made of paper and felt. The orchids and bluebells of dyed silk. And given that actual Lixirites haven’t been produced on the continent of Zakartha in decades and a single one would be worth more than this entire department store put together—the multicolored gemstones behind the glass are nothing more than masterfully crafted replicas.

As more people shuffle into the elevator, I catch a glimpse of the banner hanging in between the columns past the doors. Colored in bright blues and shimmering golds, it reads:

New Summer Collection!

Buy all the dresses and accessories for your perfect beach paradise!

Perfect is hardly the word I would use to describe Taldonia, the coastal town thirty miles south of Abeon City where the metropolis’s wealthy and famous flocked for summer vacation or weekend getaways to the beach. When I’d travelled there once before with my aunt and cousin, my excitement had quickly dimmed at what greeted me. The brown ocean water was only just a little less murky than the waves lapping the docks of Abeon City. The clouds always shrouding the city from the smokestacks and other pollutants were only slightly less gray and heavy further south over the gray-beached shores.

Still, I’d trade the department store for Taldonia in a heartbeat if I could.

“Are they making us operate this contraption ourselves now?” a man in the elevator barks, shattering my thoughts. I apologize as I rush to close the door.

The staccato of the second button on the wall being clicked echoes in the impatient silence before the occupants resume conversation.

“Did you hear about The Fated?” a woman in a blue hat says to her companion. “It arrived at the docks this morning, and people have already started getting their tickets in the mail.”

My heart picks up. The Fated? It can’t be. She must be mistaken.

Like everyone else, I’ve occasionally dreamed about embarking on The Fated’s legendary voyage, about sailing past the Veil’s impenetrable storm clouds. I imagined building a new life in whatever world waited beyond—a world of endless opportunities and dreams fulfilled according to all the stories. Then again, I once dreamed about many things.

“I had no idea!” one man gasps, and I can sense the other riders leaning forward in interest. I stop myself from doing the same. “I should hurry home and check as soon as I’m finished here.”

“Don’t bother,” the customer complaining about the door earlier growls. “You’ll have a better chance at getting struck by lightning on a sunny day. No one I’ve known or spoken to has ever seen, let alone gotten their hands, on one.”

“Well, I wouldn’t board that abomination even if a ticket fell into my mailbox,” the woman closest to me pipes up. “There’s a reason no one who gets on that ship ever returns.”

“Why would they?” the first man demands. “The world on our side of the Veil is anything but a paradise. If we aren’t worried about soaring prices, we’re worried about another outbreak of ebony fever. If we aren’t worried about ebony fever, we’re worried about the next war. It’s obvious from the photos I’ve seen of that ship that wherever it’s taking its passengers must be better than this.”

Murmurs of agreement echo throughout the space at his words, and if there was someone who would listen to me, mine would be one of them.

The elevator dings for what must be the two hundredth time today, the clear sound still reverberating through the air as I remember at the last moment to say, “Sixth floor. Housewares and appliances.”

“That ship is cursed,” the woman beside me mutters to the person next to her as I pull open the door, revealing another level streaked with marble floors and glossy cases. “It’s unnatural, appearing like it does out of the mist like a devil from the old world, or worse—"

The rest of her words are lost in the clatter of footsteps and shuffling bags as she, along with the other riders, rush through the exit before being replaced by more customers. For a moment, I wait in anticipation to see if anyone else will mention The Fated. But when conversation erupts on other topics, such as another war brewing between Terratia and Gorinth, the two largest countries in the continents south of us, I can’t help but shudder with dread.

I shake my head, vanquishing any more thoughts of war, past or future. I try to cheer myself by instead daydreaming about The Fated. Of its sleek decks and glossy windows. Of all the remaining mystery and wonder of the world it carries with it.

And yet…thinking any more about the people lucky enough to be chosen to board makes the already small walls around me feel smaller, my already tight smile even tighter. So, once again I must redirect my mind, shoving notions of a legendary ship and a life of leisure aside until I can finally relax into the symphony of familiar sounds that fill my days.

Even after everything that’s happened, everything that’s gone wrong, it’s still easier to think of my life in terms of music.

The exhausted whir the elevator makes as it descends.

The melodic ring announcing our arrival onto another floor.

The quick allegro of sharp heels and steady thump of oxford shoes as passengers rush out only to be replaced by others.

Then the movement repeats again.

Focusing on the cadence of each noise also allows me to pretend I’m a part of something greater. That I’m a single yet integral note in the chaotic production of the bustling department store. Most of the time it works…that is, until I raise my gaze long enough to see a glimpse of smiling customers, colorful clothes, and faux crystal chandeliers before the door shuts once again, reminding me how isolated I am.

By the time my lunch break arrives, I’m ready to collapse into the nearest chair and rub away the headache I can feel growing behind my eyes. Yet just as I trudge through the doors, I freeze at the sight of the woman in red stalking towards the elevator.

I had hoped today might be survivable.

“Be a dear and take me up to the fifth floor, will you?” Mrs. Savrie, the department store’s manager remarks.

I imagine dashing for the nearest exit. Instead, I mutter, “Of course,” before stepping back inside and pressing the golden button with the number 5 inscribed on it.

Seconds pass. Next to me, Mrs. Savrie releases a sigh, and in the reflection of the bronze doors, I watch her eyes bore into the dial indicator above the entrance, willing the arrow to move faster. I will it to do the same.

“The sale looks like a great success,” I finally say in an attempt to break the silence. The second the woman’s green eyes fix on mine in the reflection, I regret speaking.

“Obviously,” she sneers. “But it will be even more of one soon. My daughter, as I’m certain you know, just graduated from the Institute.”

An ache twinges in my chest at the mention of Abeon City’s renowned conservatory of performing arts. The very school I once believed I would one day call my alma mater. My home.

But Mrs. Savrie pushes on, oblivious to my discomfort.

“People are already praising her as being one of the most gifted pianists in our generation,” she says. “At my request, she has agreed to hold a short concert in our atrium later today—a spectacle practically guaranteed to bring the entire city rushing through our doors.” At her pause, I risk a glance to find the woman tilting her head as if remembering something.

“Actually, when your aunt—being the charitable woman that she is—asked me to give you this job, I believe she mentioned you once fancied becoming a concert pianist. Is that true, Miss Obrel? Where on earth could you have concocted such a notion?”

“It’s true,” I manage despite the weight building in my throat. “It was just…a childhood dream of mine.”

My only dream.

“Yes, well, dreams are well and good but no substitute for talent,” Mrs. Savrie says, and I can’t help but think that if this had been three years ago, I would have told her exactly how uncreative and juvenile her insults really were. Or better yet, punched the button to the nearest floor and stalked out of the department store forever without so much as a glance back.

But this isn’t three years ago, and by the time I open my mouth, the anger has dissipated, leaving me feeling tired and worn like the mat in front of the revolving doors, constantly treaded on by customers and employees alike.

“Of course,” I reply, pasting on a serene expression that always fools everyone but myself.

Beside me, the woman huffs almost as if in disappointment before her eyes shoot up to the dial indicator.

“The door,” Mrs. Savrie snaps, and too late I realize the elevator has been halted for a while now.

The second I slide open the entrance, she waltzes out, leaving me staring after her.

Trapped alone in the gilded box, as always.

*Choose where you’d like to read the rest of the novel HERE.

Here's to seeing where The Fated sets sail.

-K

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