Hi everyone!

I'm Sal, also known as here on Wattpad. I'm thrilled that invited me for this Summer's Block Party and thank you for putting this together. Your Block Parties are always the best.

So what do I have for you today?

For the release of War Bride, I'm planning on an accompanying novella which is called War Orphan—A Tomás Araya Story. For the Block Party, you get an exclusive sneak peek of the prologue, told through the eyes of Tomás's mother, Maria. Media is one of the best violinist of our times—Lindsey Stirling with My Immortal (her songs were my inspiration for choosing the violin for Tomás). Enjoy!

Prologue

A cool breeze plays with Maria's hair as she waits for the lynch mob. Standing on the terrace of her house situated on what the locals call Forbidden Hills, her eyes rest on the far-away mountains. Their tips are covered in the crimson red of the setting sun as dark shadows of nightfall reach for her. In a couple of weeks, snow will cover those mountain tops—something she will not get to enjoy.

A small hand pulls at her sweater. "Mamá, I'm scared."

With the fond smile, she tousles the hair of her five-year old son. "Don't be, Mateo. It will be over soon."

"Will they hurt us?"

For a second, her gaze flits to Tomás. He is absorbed in pushing his little horse across the floor, the clicking sounds of his tongue mimicking the hooves as they hit the wood. "No one will hurt you. Or your brother." The words are spoken through rising tears. How can she be sure? In times of war, promises are for the foolish.

The door opens and closes again with only a low thud. Yolanda is even paler than usual as she steps onto the terrace. Just a little over six months ago, in this very spot, Maria had braided her daughter's hair for her wedding. As customary among the leading families of Malaguay, the marriage was arranged, but Maria could feel Yolanda's deep love for her future husband. They didn't take long to start their own family. Though the baby bump isn't visible under Yolanda's loose floating blouse, Maria knows it's there. She was beyond excited when she first learned the news—now, she will never get to see her grandchild. Their whole future went to pieces in a matter of hours.

With the same fond smile she gave Mateo, Maria tucks a few strands of her daughter's long hair behind the girl's ear. "It's time, Yolanda. Take your brothers to the orphanage."

Tears glisten in Yolanda's eyes. "What if there isn't any space for them? I mean, as their sister, I'm supposed to keep them."

"Don't worry, Pearson won't turn you away. Your brothers will be safe with him."

Yolanda nods. There is no other solution. If the boys stay with Maria, chances are they will be executed alongside their parents.

Tears roll down Mateo's face when Maria pulls him into a tight hug. "You be a good boy now, you hear. And promise me you'll take care of your brother."

"I promise." Mateo's short arms squeeze as hard as they can. "Te quiero, mamá."

All Maria can do is nod, her voice choked by unshed tears.

Tomás is oblivious to what is happening, his eyebrows furrowing as he gazes at his brother's tear-stricken face.

"Come here, cariño." Maria stretches out her arms and Tomás runs into the hug. His mother's tears spill into his thick curls as she soaks up his scent for the very last time.

"Te quiero, Tomás."

"Yo tambien."

Deep blue eyes cut into her soul and her heart soars. He is her perfect little boy—her angel.

With the most innocent smile, he holds up his horse. "For you, mamá."

"But don't you want to keep it?"

He shakes his head, holding the horse up with great urgency. Smiling, her fingers wrap around the small toy before she pulls him into another hug. "Thank you, cariño." The lump in her throat robs her of her breath and she's unable to let go until Yolanda pulls him away. The tears in her children's eyes is the last thing Maria sees before the door closes behind them.

~~~~

They come for her just as the last beams of sunshine kiss the earth. When Maria opens the door, Santino glares at her without even the slightest hint of compassion.

"Where's your husband?"

"Jhon is in the study."

One of the soldiers grabs Maria's arm and pulls her out the house. Santino and the other men storm inside. The toy horse she's clawing in her hand almost slips through her fingers when her wrist is wrenched and secured with handcuffs. Standing in front of an open jeep, she waits while the soldiers ransack her home. Wood whines as furniture break and a rumbles shake the house. Finally, Jhon is dragged out the front door, his face covered in blood.

A whiff of gasoline hangs heavy in the evening air before the house goes up in flames. Baby photos, books passed down through generations, souvenirs from family trips—all will be destroyed by the licking flames. Not that it would matter. After tonight, the name Araya will be erased from Malaguay's history books, her children her only legacy. If they survive.

Pablo, her cousin, yanks her arm. They have fought on opposite sides of the war as long as she can remember, so no surprise to see him among Santino's men.

"Vamonos." Santino's voice is sharp and carries over the uproar of rumbling voices and raging flames. He carries the aura of a dictator—in a single word.

Maria and Jhon are loaded into the jeep. That means the execution will be public and messy. Tightening her fingers around the horse until the hooves cut her skin, Maria tries desperately to keep the tears at bay. She will not give Santino the satisfaction of showing even the slightest weakness. She owes that to her family name.

Speeding through the night, her thoughts drift to her children. God willing, Yolanda will be at the orphanage by now. Since Pearson owes her for all the money and support Maria had given him over the years, she is certain he won't turn her daughter away. Hell, she practically built that place with him from the ground up. Jhon had thought that an orphanage, run by an ex US Marine, was ludicrous and it took a lot of convincing before he finally agreed. Not that the country didn't need one. Too many children were left orphaned and without relatives to take care of them during the constant fighting. Ironic that tonight, her sons will be among them.

Silence has fallen over the capital by the time they reach the city. Burned out cars, shot windows, and still bodies of civilians and soldiers line the path to the church in the center of town. The square is surrounded by spectators when the jeep pulls up and Maria and Jhon are ordered to get out at gunpoint. Her knees almost buckle when her feet touch the ground. Straightening with her chin held up high, she stumbles behind her husband along the wall of waiting soldiers.

The crowd boos when Jhon is pulled onto the makeshift stage and forced onto his knees. They had been in love for so many years and Maria can't even pinpoint the day that changed. Or why it changed. She is only certain that it wasn't his fault. Until his last breath, he will have been a worthy man, a good husband and father, the best ruler the country has ever had. She is the one who screwed it all up.

Tears shoot in her eyes when Santino raises the gun and rests the barrel against the back of Jhon's head.

"Jhon Araya, you have been convicted of treason."

The booing grows louder.

"Therefore, you are no longer fit to rule this country."

One of the spectators lunges forward and gets shushed with the shaft of a rifle. Deadly silence falls over the crowd.

"Jhon Araya, I hereby sentence you to death." Without even the slightest hesitation, Santino pulls the trigger. Blood spills from Jhon's forehead, covering the first row of spectators with red rain, before his body slams forward. The stage groans under his weight.

Without even bothering to clear the space of her dead husband, Maria is pulled onto the stage. Despite her determination to keep her composure, the tears begin to roll when she is forced on her knees.

Please, Father, protect my sons.

The barrel of the gun comes to rest on the back of her head. This time, it's her cousin who will pull the trigger.

Let them grow up happy and healthy, and turn them into men to be proud of.

Her grip tightens around Tomás's horse.

Te quiero, cariño.

Her world explodes in a loud bang. Then there's nothing.