Tag Archives: excerpts

Sunday Snippet, March 29, 2020

More from the untitled WiP that I’ve been posting from.

This follows from last week’s snippet.

She was running as she reached the foot of the hill, Veren easily pacing her. Confidently she moved through the streets and alleys, the route imprinted on her mind, barely noticing the ragged figures that ran into deeper shadows, fleeing in fear.

At the entrance to a dead end alley she pulled up sharply and got her first look at the source of her Calling. He – at least she thought it was a he – was a Mutant, an Ogre. His skin was a combination of green and blue-grey and his body held the promise of being powerful, but he was far too thin. He was wearing a long skirt and a blouse, obviously scavenged from a refuse pile. They were torn and dirty, and hung awkwardly from his gaunt frame.

At the moment he was cowering in a corner next to a tumbled down wall, waving his arms and half-sobbing, half-shouting for something to go away.

I thought maybe I should post a bit of an explanation/blurb in progress for you to give you some sort of idea about the world I’m playing in for this:

Magic had reasserted itself. Banished for millennia, it could no longer be contained and erupted, bursting forth with a surge of power that had never been known before, and which, mercifully, has not been repeated since.

Unfortunately, no one believed in magic anymore, so no one knew what to do with it, not even those most directly affected: not those who had mutated overnight into creatures of legend, not those born as something other than human, not those who retained human but found themselves touched in other ways, with special powers and abilities.

Almost no one.

There were a few. A few who had held on to dreams and understandings, who believed in the things that others called fantasy. These few took roles as adepts, as teachers and counselors, leading the way into the new age.

There were some, of course, who rejected the changes. They persecuted the Abominations, as they called them, they drove them out of the cities and into the wilds.

And, gradually, a balance was achieved.

Sort of.

Outside the cities, in the wilds, there arose villages, their inhabitants, human and non, living together in peace and harmony with each other and with the natural world that was feared by the city dwellers.

In the cities, Tech ruled. But magic, or, rather, magic power, was not forgotten, nor entirely abandoned, and Temples grew, their priests (who had no power of their own) seeking Power, seeking to harness it for their own ends.

But also in the cities, magic remained.

Humans were still born with special abilities, special senses. They learned not to talk about them, not to reveal that they were “different” – if they did, they were ostracized, driven out away from the general population. 

Veren was one such human.

Mutants were still born each year, but in smaller numbers than during the Awakening. Some infants were killed by their parents, and some were hidden away for a few years, abandoned when their differences could no longer be hidden. 

Jopie was one such child.

And in the wilds, humans and mutants continued to live in harmony, and to practice magic. But occasionally one would be born with a wild talent, something strong and different than what was normal for their village. They felt isolated, because there was no one to help them understand their gift. Some were driven mad by the visions they saw, others went in search of help when the visions became too much to handle.

Kestra was one such person.

 (Yeah, I know it’s too long. But the book is a long way from being finished so I have lots of time to work on it.)

 

Find more great reading
at the Sunday Snippet group.

 

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Rainbow Snippet for 3-28-2020

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Rainbow Snippets is a group for LGBTQ+ authors, bloggers, and readers to gather once a week and share six sentences from a work of fiction–a WIP or a finished work or even a 6-sentence book recommendation (no spoilers please!).   Check out all the other awesome snippets by clicking on the picture above.

Still posting from that “Steampunk Thing.” The first draft isn’t done yet and I’m hoping that this will keep me motivated to keep at it.

(Apologies for any language usage that’s anachronistic. I’ll deal with that once the first draft is done.)

This picks up from last week.

The horse didn’t seem to need any guidance as we traveled through the nearly deserted streets. The lanterns on the corners of the carriage barely made an impression on the darkness and as the wind battered rain against the glass in front of us and the canvas slaps over and beside us I was glad indeed to not be out in the elements and grateful to my employer for the invitation to dinner, especially as my little shanty would be cold and drafty and likely wet, or at least damp, instead of warm and dry.

It seemed no time at all before we were turning into a driveway that led behind a large house that I couldn’t help but think of as a mansion. I thought he would let Miss Madison out at the front but instead we drove around to the back before the horse came to a halt and James opened the side doors to the driver’s box and I was reminded of the cold and wind.

I climbed down after him as he opened the door to the carriage and helped Miss Madison down the steps, the lady doing her best to keep her skirts off of the wet cobblestones while simultaneously holding her cape closed against the wind.

 

 

 

 

 

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Sunday Snippet, March 22, 2020

More from the untitled WiP that I’ve been posting from.

This follows from last week’s snippet.

The street sloped down from here and below them spread… squalor: half-collapsed buildings, makeshift shelters, fires whose smoke gave off a putrid greasy smell. “What –?”

“Shack Town,” Veren murmured, his gaze troubled as looked down at the ruins below them. “This area was hardest hit during the Magic Wars and the Uprising, and it was never rebuilt. It was felt to be ‘contaminated’ and not worth the money and effort. Almost all of the Mutants end up there, regardless of where they were born.”

Kestra did not reply, her attention focused on the wreckage below her. The Call was definitely coming from down there. She let her gaze travel over the buildings, hoping she would be able to see where to go.

A shimmer of energy caught her attention and she frowned, focusing on it. The fear in the Calling escalated as the shimmer intensified. “There!” she said, pointing. “Let’s go!”

I thought maybe I should post a bit of an explanation/blurb in progress for you to give you some sort of idea about the world I’m playing in for this:

Magic had reasserted itself. Banished for millennia, it could no longer be contained and erupted, bursting forth with a surge of power that had never been known before, and which, mercifully, has not been repeated since.

Unfortunately, no one believed in magic anymore, so no one knew what to do with it, not even those most directly affected: not those who had mutated overnight into creatures of legend, not those born as something other than human, not those who retained human but found themselves touched in other ways, with special powers and abilities.

Almost no one.

There were a few. A few who had held on to dreams and understandings, who believed in the things that others called fantasy. These few took roles as adepts, as teachers and counselors, leading the way into the new age.

There were some, of course, who rejected the changes. They persecuted the Abominations, as they called them, they drove them out of the cities and into the wilds.

And, gradually, a balance was achieved.

Sort of.

Outside the cities, in the wilds, there arose villages, their inhabitants, human and non, living together in peace and harmony with each other and with the natural world that was feared by the city dwellers.

In the cities, Tech ruled. But magic, or, rather, magic power, was not forgotten, nor entirely abandoned, and Temples grew, their priests (who had no power of their own) seeking Power, seeking to harness it for their own ends.

But also in the cities, magic remained.

Humans were still born with special abilities, special senses. They learned not to talk about them, not to reveal that they were “different” – if they did, they were ostracized, driven out away from the general population. 

Veren was one such human.

Mutants were still born each year, but in smaller numbers than during the Awakening. Some infants were killed by their parents, and some were hidden away for a few years, abandoned when their differences could no longer be hidden. 

Jopie was one such child.

And in the wilds, humans and mutants continued to live in harmony, and to practice magic. But occasionally one would be born with a wild talent, something strong and different than what was normal for their village. They felt isolated, because there was no one to help them understand their gift. Some were driven mad by the visions they saw, others went in search of help when the visions became too much to handle.

Kestra was one such person.

 (Yeah, I know it’s too long. But the book is a long way from being finished so I have lots of time to work on it.)

 

Find more great reading
at the Sunday Snippet group.

 

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Rainbow Snippet for 3-21-2020

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Rainbow Snippets is a group for LGBTQ+ authors, bloggers, and readers to gather once a week and share six sentences from a work of fiction–a WIP or a finished work or even a 6-sentence book recommendation (no spoilers please!).   Check out all the other awesome snippets by clicking on the picture above.

Still posting from that “Steampunk Thing.” The first draft isn’t done yet and I’m hoping that this will keep me motivated to keep at it.

(Apologies for any language usage that’s anachronistic. I’ll deal with that once the first draft is done.)

This picks up from last week.

“She said I should know what I’m getting myself into?” I asked cautiously. I didn’t want him to think I was prying for information.

He laughed. “She did make it sound rather dire, didn’t she?” He shook his head. “We’re… an odd bunch. You’ll learn soon enough that Miss Victoria is not a classist. Oh, she can be formal and upper crust when the occasion calls for it, although she tries to avoid those occasions. Her grandfather’s not been doing well, but feels up to dressing for dinner tonight or else she’d be eating with the servants.”

Eating with the servants? I turned that over in my mind. Granted, I didn’t know all that much about how the upper class conducted things in their households but I was fairly sure that something like that was unheard of to the point of being scandalous.

But at least the mention of her granda solved the mystery of her marital status. She was most likely taking care of him in his old age, something that might put off potential suitors.

 

 

 

 

 

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Sunday Snippet, March 15, 2020

More from the untitled WiP that I’ve been posting from.

This follows from last week’s snippet.

He led her through streets and alleys that grew more run down and decrepit as they went, and she shuddered. “How do people live like this?”

“It’s surviving, not living. But there are worse areas.”

She shuddered despite herself, despite his arm that was somehow around her shoulders, guiding her and comforting her.

She stopped suddenly and stared. The street sloped down from here and below them spread… squalor: half-collapsed buildings, makeshift shelters, fires whose smoke gave off a putrid greasy smell. “What –?”

I thought maybe I should post a bit of an explanation/blurb in progress for you to give you some sort of idea about the world I’m playing in for this:

Magic had reasserted itself. Banished for millennia, it could no longer be contained and erupted, bursting forth with a surge of power that had never been known before, and which, mercifully, has not been repeated since.

Unfortunately, no one believed in magic anymore, so no one knew what to do with it, not even those most directly affected: not those who had mutated overnight into creatures of legend, not those born as something other than human, not those who retained human but found themselves touched in other ways, with special powers and abilities.

Almost no one.

There were a few. A few who had held on to dreams and understandings, who believed in the things that others called fantasy. These few took roles as adepts, as teachers and counselors, leading the way into the new age.

There were some, of course, who rejected the changes. They persecuted the Abominations, as they called them, they drove them out of the cities and into the wilds.

And, gradually, a balance was achieved.

Sort of.

Outside the cities, in the wilds, there arose villages, their inhabitants, human and non, living together in peace and harmony with each other and with the natural world that was feared by the city dwellers.

In the cities, Tech ruled. But magic, or, rather, magic power, was not forgotten, nor entirely abandoned, and Temples grew, their priests (who had no power of their own) seeking Power, seeking to harness it for their own ends.

But also in the cities, magic remained.

Humans were still born with special abilities, special senses. They learned not to talk about them, not to reveal that they were “different” – if they did, they were ostracized, driven out away from the general population. 

Veren was one such human.

Mutants were still born each year, but in smaller numbers than during the Awakening. Some infants were killed by their parents, and some were hidden away for a few years, abandoned when their differences could no longer be hidden. 

Jopie was one such child.

And in the wilds, humans and mutants continued to live in harmony, and to practice magic. But occasionally one would be born with a wild talent, something strong and different than what was normal for their village. They felt isolated, because there was no one to help them understand their gift. Some were driven mad by the visions they saw, others went in search of help when the visions became too much to handle.

Kestra was one such person.

 (Yeah, I know it’s too long. But the book is a long way from being finished so I have lots of time to work on it.)

 

Find more great reading
at the Sunday Snippet group.

 

2 Comments

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Rainbow Snippet for 3-14-2020

rainbow logo 1

Rainbow Snippets is a group for LGBTQ+ authors, bloggers, and readers to gather once a week and share six sentences from a work of fiction–a WIP or a finished work or even a 6-sentence book recommendation (no spoilers please!).   Check out all the other awesome snippets by clicking on the picture above.

Still posting from that “Steampunk Thing.” The first draft isn’t done yet and I’m hoping that this will keep me motivated to keep at it.

(Apologies for any language usage that’s anachronistic. I’ll deal with that once the first draft is done.)

This picks up from last week.

“I gather she spends a lot of time there?”

James laughed. “She usually takes a lunch with her, or Martha will send me with food for her around midday. She’d probably be there all night if she wasn’t made to come home for supper.” He grinned. “Every once in a while her father comes over to make sure she’s not setting herself up a sleeping room in there or we’d never see her.”

I chuckled politely and took another drink of tea. It felt strange to be learning all this, kind of like I was spying on my new employer. But on the other hand, I was curious about her and he seemed willing to talk. He also seemed to be genuinely fond of her.

“She said I should know what I’m getting myself into?” I asked cautiously. I didn’t want him to think I was prying for information.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Sunday Snippet, March 8, 2020

More from the untitled WiP that I’ve been posting from.

This follows from last week’s snippet.

She had no idea where she was going – she was merely running blindly through streets, barely even registering the crowds around her. Reaching a dead end she turned around with a sob of frustration and collided with Veren who grabbed her arms to steady her.

“Easy,” he murmured. “Calm yourself.”

“He’s afraid,” she said. “I need to get to him. He’s in trouble and he’s scared… terrified.” Large dark eyes seemed to glow with their own light as she looked up at him pleadingly. “But I don’t know where he is.”

“Shh. It’s all right. I think I know. At least, I know what part of the city you’ve been heading toward. We’ll find him.”

I thought maybe I should post a bit of an explanation/blurb in progress for you to give you some sort of idea about the world I’m playing in for this:

Magic had reasserted itself. Banished for millennia, it could no longer be contained and erupted, bursting forth with a surge of power that had never been known before, and which, mercifully, has not been repeated since.

Unfortunately, no one believed in magic anymore, so no one knew what to do with it, not even those most directly affected: not those who had mutated overnight into creatures of legend, not those born as something other than human, not those who retained human but found themselves touched in other ways, with special powers and abilities.

Almost no one.

There were a few. A few who had held on to dreams and understandings, who believed in the things that others called fantasy. These few took roles as adepts, as teachers and counselors, leading the way into the new age.

There were some, of course, who rejected the changes. They persecuted the Abominations, as they called them, they drove them out of the cities and into the wilds.

And, gradually, a balance was achieved.

Sort of.

Outside the cities, in the wilds, there arose villages, their inhabitants, human and non, living together in peace and harmony with each other and with the natural world that was feared by the city dwellers.

In the cities, Tech ruled. But magic, or, rather, magic power, was not forgotten, nor entirely abandoned, and Temples grew, their priests (who had no power of their own) seeking Power, seeking to harness it for their own ends.

But also in the cities, magic remained.

Humans were still born with special abilities, special senses. They learned not to talk about them, not to reveal that they were “different” – if they did, they were ostracized, driven out away from the general population. 

Veren was one such human.

Mutants were still born each year, but in smaller numbers than during the Awakening. Some infants were killed by their parents, and some were hidden away for a few years, abandoned when their differences could no longer be hidden. 

Jopie was one such child.

And in the wilds, humans and mutants continued to live in harmony, and to practice magic. But occasionally one would be born with a wild talent, something strong and different than what was normal for their village. They felt isolated, because there was no one to help them understand their gift. Some were driven mad by the visions they saw, others went in search of help when the visions became too much to handle.

Kestra was one such person.

 (Yeah, I know it’s too long. But the book is a long way from being finished so I have lots of time to work on it.)

 

Find more great reading
at the Sunday Snippet group.

 

3 Comments

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Rainbow Snippet for 3-7-2020

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Rainbow Snippets is a group for LGBTQ+ authors, bloggers, and readers to gather once a week and share six sentences from a work of fiction–a WIP or a finished work or even a 6-sentence book recommendation (no spoilers please!).   Check out all the other awesome snippets by clicking on the picture above.

Still posting from that “Steampunk Thing.” The first draft isn’t done yet and I’m hoping that this will keep me motivated to keep at it.

(Apologies for any language usage that’s anachronistic. I’ll deal with that once the first draft is done.)

This picks up from last week.

“Fancy a swallow of tea?”

“Thank you,” I said, taking it from him, feeling a bit bewildered. I was most definitely a lower class than he was but here he was treating me as if I was his equal.

The tea was hot and sweet and got rid of a chill I hadn’t noticed, having been so caught up in the fact that I was going to be working on building an airship. I handed the bottle back to him but he waved it off. “I’ve another. Martha – she’s the cook – always sends me out with a couple of them in case I have to wait a while, because it’s rare to get Miss Victoria out of the warehouse so quickly. It’s a good job you were there – it’s harder to get her out of the warehouse proper.”

“I gather she spends a lot of time there?”

 

 

 

 

 

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Sunday Snippet, March 1, 2020

More from the untitled WiP that I’ve been posting from.

This follows from last week’s snippet.

“It may be best to wait and find your Caller in the morning,” he [Gundrin] said. “There are… other forces here in the city, and they are stronger at night. But we can keep you safe here until daylight.”

“I don’t know,” she said, frowning uncertainly. “The Call has been growing more… desperate, more urgent. And it seems to be both stronger and weaker.”

“Try to wait if you can,” he advised. “For the safety of all involved.” 

There was almost a pleading tone in his voice and she looked at him curiously, but any question she was going to ask was cut off by what could only be described as a scream that was felt, not heard, and she bolted to her feet, her heart leaping, her body tense. “I’m sorry,” she said, grabbing her pack. “I have to go.  I…”

“I understand,” Gundrin replied, a hint of sadness in his voice. “I felt it as well.”

Kestra barely heard him; she was already on her way out the door, Veren at her heels. Gundrin shook his head sadly as they left, and retreated to his room to pray for the protection of them all…

I thought maybe I should post a bit of an explanation/blurb in progress for you to give you some sort of idea about the world I’m playing in for this:

Magic had reasserted itself. Banished for millennia, it could no longer be contained and erupted, bursting forth with a surge of power that had never been known before, and which, mercifully, has not been repeated since.

Unfortunately, no one believed in magic anymore, so no one knew what to do with it, not even those most directly affected: not those who had mutated overnight into creatures of legend, not those born as something other than human, not those who retained human but found themselves touched in other ways, with special powers and abilities.

Almost no one.

There were a few. A few who had held on to dreams and understandings, who believed in the things that others called fantasy. These few took roles as adepts, as teachers and counselors, leading the way into the new age.

There were some, of course, who rejected the changes. They persecuted the Abominations, as they called them, they drove them out of the cities and into the wilds.

And, gradually, a balance was achieved.

Sort of.

Outside the cities, in the wilds, there arose villages, their inhabitants, human and non, living together in peace and harmony with each other and with the natural world that was feared by the city dwellers.

In the cities, Tech ruled. But magic, or, rather, magic power, was not forgotten, nor entirely abandoned, and Temples grew, their priests (who had no power of their own) seeking Power, seeking to harness it for their own ends.

But also in the cities, magic remained.

Humans were still born with special abilities, special senses. They learned not to talk about them, not to reveal that they were “different” – if they did, they were ostracized, driven out away from the general population. 

Veren was one such human.

Mutants were still born each year, but in smaller numbers than during the Awakening. Some infants were killed by their parents, and some were hidden away for a few years, abandoned when their differences could no longer be hidden. 

Jopie was one such child.

And in the wilds, humans and mutants continued to live in harmony, and to practice magic. But occasionally one would be born with a wild talent, something strong and different than what was normal for their village. They felt isolated, because there was no one to help them understand their gift. Some were driven mad by the visions they saw, others went in search of help when the visions became too much to handle.

Kestra was one such person.

 (Yeah, I know it’s too long. But the book is a long way from being finished so I have lots of time to work on it.)

 

Find more great reading
at the Sunday Snippet group.

 

2 Comments

Filed under writing

Rainbow Snippet for 2-29-2020

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Rainbow Snippets is a group for LGBTQ+ authors, bloggers, and readers to gather once a week and share six sentences from a work of fiction–a WIP or a finished work or even a 6-sentence book recommendation (no spoilers please!).   Check out all the other awesome snippets by clicking on the picture above.

Still posting from that “Steampunk Thing.” The first draft isn’t done yet and I’m hoping that this will keep me motivated to keep at it.

(Apologies for any language usage that’s anachronistic. I’ll deal with that once the first draft is done.)

This picks up from last week.

“…Is there someone waiting at home for you?”

I shook my head. “No, ma’am. There’s no one.”

“Then come and be welcome in my home.” She turned to look at the coachman. “Do try not to scare him too much, won’t you? He comes highly recommended.”

And just like that my tools and I were whisked out the door and to a waiting carriage. It wouldn’t have been proper for me to ride with her so my tools were loaded into the luggage rack and I sat in the driver’s box with James. I braced myself for a cold wet ride but to my surprise he pulled up a wind shield of glass and drew a cover over our heads with flaps that came down to protect the sides of our box.

“Miss Victoria doesn’t like the thought of others braving the elements while she sits inside,” he explained in response to my bewildered look. “She’d be up here with me working things out in her mind until she came up with this arrangement.” He handed me a heavy blanket to help keep out the chill, then reached down and pulled a bottle from next to the heated bricks at our feet and handed it to me. “Fancy a swallow of tea?”

 

 

 

 

 

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