Tag Archives: excerpts

Rainbow Snippet for 4-25-2020

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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.

This picks up from last week.

Dinner was a lively affair. I felt a bit out of place at first but the Madison’s servants were friendly and not a bit snobbish and I soon relaxed but kept reminding myself to mind my place.

As for my employer and her grandfather, they’d barely finished dessert before he rang for assistance to return to his room. I could see him through the crack in the door and he looked frail and worn, and I was sure the dinner had taken a toll on him.

Miss Victoria gave him a kiss on the cheek and waited until he had been assisted from the room then came into the dining room we were in.

“Are you settling in well, Mr. McKelvy?”

“Very well, thank you. “

“If you’d like I’ll have a room set up for you for tonight in the servants’ quarters, then you can ride along to the warehouse with me in the morning, leave your tools, and go home to change.”

“I don’t want to be a bother.”

“No bother,” she replied lightly. “It’s a foul night out there and I wouldn’t turn my worst enemy out in it.” For a moment she looked as if she might make an exception to that sentiment but thought the better of it.

“In that case, I’d be glad of a place for the night.” As I spoke a gust of wind slammed what sounded like sleet against the window behind me. “Very grateful indeed,” I added.

 

 

 

 

 

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Sunday Snippet, April 19, 2020

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

This follows from last week’s snippet.

As Veren  joined her, he saw the boy turn his attention toward her, gazing at her in adoration as if she was a dream come to life, then the fear that was part of the reaction to all strangers here – and everyone who was not you was a stranger – took over.

“They’re not interested in me,” Veren observed, swatting one with the broad side of his sword. “Just you and the boy.”

“Well, they’re about to become less interested,” she said darkly. She raised her staff and brought it down sharply, speaking a word of command. There was a silent thunderclap and then it was just the three of them.

“That was probably not wise,” Veren said. “You’ve just gotten the Temple’s attention.” He seemed nervous. “We need to move.”

 

 

An overly long blurb:

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 4-18-2020

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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.

This picks up from last week.

“Please, just call me Anne. And I’m glad she finally hired someone so that maybe she’ll be home more often, doing things a lady ought.”

“I said help me, not replace me. You know I’ve never been one for sitting about like a porcelain doll.”

Anne sighed. “True enough. Now, come along and let’s get you presentable before dinner.”

“Mr. McKelvy needs to be introduced first, then I’ll let you fuss.”

“I’ll take care of that,” James said as he entered the room. “You two run along and get her spruced up before Mr. Madison gets too tired.”

That was enough to get my employer’s attention and she let Anne guide her to a back staircase, enduring the motherly lecture that she was receiving.

 

 

 

 

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Sunday Snippet, April 12, 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.

Kestra glanced at Veren, wondering if he could see the attackers. They looked like crows, but with scales instead of feathers, and their talons dripped what she could only assume was some sort of poison.

Veren frowned. He hadn’t known the Temple had grown strong enough to summon creatures like these, but what else could they be?

He started to draw his sword, but Kestra stayed his hand. “I’m not sure your weapon will be effective against those.”

“Only one way to find out.” He started forward and she sighed and stayed with him.

One of the creatures turned and dove at them, focusing primarily on Kestra, and Veren’s sword flashed and sliced it in two, each half instantly forming a new whole. He swore as the two of them dove at Kestra again, but she ducked through the flock attacking the boy and placed herself between them. One dove at her and she swung her staff, connecting solidly and sending it tumbling to the ground, stunned.

 

 

An overly long blurb:

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 4-11-2020

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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.

This picks up from last week.

I turned toward the house, feeling a bit uncertain, but saw Miss Madison waiting for me, much to the other woman’s impatience, so I made my way to them and was ushered into a warm outer kitchen, where the other woman – Anne – was helping Miss Madison out of her cape. 

“Mr. McKelvy, I’d like you to meet Anne, the woman who insists on trying to make a lady out of me. Anne, this is Daniel McKelvy. I’ve just hired him to help me in the warehouse.” 

“I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. McKelvy.”

“The pleasure is mine, Miss.” She was older than I’d expected, forties or early fifties I’d wager, and there was something matronly about her.

 

 

 

 

 

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Rainbow Snippet for 4-4-2020

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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.

This picks up from last week.

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.

A door opened, spilling light out into the storm.

“Hurry, Miss Victoria. It won’t do for you to be seen at dinner with your dress all wet.”

“Then why did you send it along for me to change into?” Nevertheless she hurried to the door. “Besides, it will be dry by the time you’re done fussing over my hair and makeup.”

The other woman didn’t exactly “Tsk” at her, or if she did the sound of the sleet hitting the cobblestones covered it, and James chuckled.

“Anne has her hands full with that one, that’s for sure.” He shook his head but the fond tone in his voice took any censure from his words. “Go on inside,” he said. “I’ll take the carriage to the stable and turn Jasper over to the grooms and be in shortly. Your gear will be safe and out of the weather.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

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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.

 

2 Comments

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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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