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September 19, 2013

Exclusive Book Trailer + Elizabeth Miles, Author of the Fury Trilogy, Talks Revenge

Posted by tbrliz

Elizabeth Miles' conclusion to the Fury series is ETERNITY, in which Em is driven slowly crazy by a reoccurring dream and the Furies staying close at bay. And she feels...different: She’s angry, and never cold, and too strong. Without Drea’s help, or anyone to turn to, Em is quickly running out of options. In this blog post, Elizabeth Miles describes a situation she experienced in high school, where should would have loved to have summoned the Furies.

And don't forget to scroll down to watch the trailer for ETERNITY!

The themes of revenge and forgiveness run deep in the Fury series, and as a result I am often asked where I fall on these questions. Do I believe in karma? Would I summon the Furies if I had the chance?

There was a time back in high school, before I even knew what the Furies were, when I would have considered it.

Toward the end of my sophomore year, I dated a fellow theater nerd --- a lighting and tech guy who was a bit roly poly but smart as hell and quite funny. Let’s call him Mark. For two months, we hung out with friends in people’s basements, fooled around in his bedroom when his mom wasn’t home, and wrote each other sweet love notes on looseleaf paper. “The long run isn’t so bad with you by my side,” he wrote in my yearbook. “Never let go because I’m holding on for dear life. My love always, Mark.”

Though he was going to college in the fall, we hoped to make it work long distance. We’d get an early try that summer when my parents --- unjustly dismissive of young love! --- took me away for two months. But as the weeks wore on, the phone calls became less frequent and the letters he’d promised to send never came. By the time I returned to my small hometown, tanned and ready to tackle junior year, it was clear that Mark would be going off to college as a single man. We broke up on the front stoop of my house before he left; I watched him drive away. 

I was heartbroken, and my friends gave me support as only friends can --- Lisa coming over for movie nights, Rosie analyzing the break-up for hours over cups of Dunkin Donuts coffee and illicitly scored cigarettes, and Sara nudging me gently toward other crushes, other pursuits.

Still, Mark and I kept in contact as he started his first semester of college, talking on the phone and emailing occasionally. I decided --- with no ulterior motive, of course --- that I would go visit him at said college. Just a friendly visit. I knew other people who went there, and I made arrangements to stay with them for the weekend. But in the back of my mind burned the hope that Mark would realize his mistake and take me back.

Then, just a few days before that ill-conceived visit, Mark dropped a bombshell right into my AOL inbox.

“I have something to tell you,” his email read. “Last summer, when you were away, I hooked up with Rosie.”

You’ve got mail,indeed. My stomach dropped. Rosie was my friend, one of my best friends. (Those who have already read my books know that this scenario rings all too true…shades of Em and Gabby, anyone?)

“I thought you should know before you come up here,” his nauseating email continued. “I don’t want you to have the wrong idea.”

I read the lines over and over again. I hooked up with Rosie. I hooked up with Rosie.

Something happens to my body when I hear news like that. My arms tense and my fingers get cold. My vision tunnels. My internal organs start to feel like they’re not attached in the right places, like they’re playing bumper cars in my torso. I get clammy. I get flushed.

I spent a long and sleepless night contemplating my stupidity, their awfulness, and how I was going to make them sorry. Perhaps this is the point at which some would have conjured the Furies, those mythical goddesses of revenge, to make Mark and Rosie pay for their mistakes.

That option was still on the table the next morning, when I arrived at school, went to homeroom, and summoned Rosie outside. “I know what happened,” I told her. She knew instantly what I meant; I could see it in her eyes. Terror and regret at the same time. “How could you?” I asked her.

Through tears, Rosie explained how it had happened.

“I was jealous,” she said. “You loved him, and he loved you. I wanted to feel something like that. So I seduced him. We both knew it was wrong,” she continued. “I wanted something real, but that wasn’t it. It wasn’t worth putting our friendship in jeopardy.”

You may think I’m a pushover; you may think I’m too forgiving. But I let it go, right then and there, on that day, behind that building. Maybe I believed her, maybe I felt sorry for her. Maybe I understood, even then, that this terrible incident would be nothing but a ripple in a long and lasting friendship. Maybe I simply loved her much more than I ever liked him. But on that day, I chose forgiveness over revenge.

And I think I made the right choice. Fifteen years later, Rosie and I are closer than ever. As for Mark? We’re not even Facebook friends.