Tag Archive: Fantasy


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Welcome!

How is your summer going? Mine has been busy thus far and it doesn’t look like it’s going to let up anytime soon. All good things.

When I started writing QoB, I intended it to be a single POV, but that just wasn’t working very well. It is now a 4 POV book. I’ll be making lots of revisions to include the voices of Oya, Tai, and a woman you’ll meet today. It’ll still be Arvid’s book, with roughly half of the scenes coming from her, but you’ll get a glimpse into other minds as well. Today, I have a bit from Tai’s POV.

Much love to our gracious hostess, Emily Witt.

Math: first digit of date + first digit of year + month = 2 + 2 + 7 = 11 paragraphs (under 500 words)

Character descriptions:

Arvid 5’6″, dark copper skin, long brown hair, brown eyes, gymnast’s build

Taiamuk 6’3″, long red hair, gray eyes, a multitude of freckles, numerous scars, muscles a la young Jackie Chan. Notable scars include three stab wounds on his right side and a long, horizontal gash across his chest.

Necessary Context

  • Tai’s POV.
  • First drafty, especially the last paragraph. Sorry. I runned out of steam.

The moment his step-mother released Taiamuk, Tikaleam threw her arms around his neck. “Oh, Taiamuk, I missed you.”

He lifted his half-sister and spun her in the air, shocked how much older she looked. He remembered a pretty but gangly woman in her late teens. During his absence, her figure filled out and her face thinned to make her into a proper beauty. If not for Arvid, he’d call Tikaleam, with her shimmering bronze hair and rosy cheeks, unrivaled.

“And I missed you. Are you married? Any children?” If she provided any nephews or nieces while he lived on the mountain, he intended to start spoiling them immediately, to make up for lost time.

Behind him, an alto voice crooned, “With the way you doted on her?”

Hatred, intensified by the unwanted thrill of anticipation that accompanied the voice, surged through him. He covered his scowl with a kiss on Tikaleam’s cheek as he set her down and managed to plaster a smile on his face before he turned.

“Every man who thought to court her lived in fear of your vengeance should she shed a single tear inspired by them.”

Another traitorous shock of anticipation hit him and it took all his control to keep from sneering at the woman who spoke. Full lips he knew to be skilled in creating pleasing sensations parted in a suggestive smile. Large breasts loomed over the top of the woman’s bodice, forming a cushion perfect for burying his face in. Desire for that body once dominated him like vodvaysh smoke enslaved its addicts. Yet, he despised her. He thought the years away cured him of her. No… He knew they did. He lusted, but not for her. She simply represented a cheap fix.

The curvaceous brunette opened her arms and stepped toward him.

“Lady Zedeleam.” Taiamuk took her hand, brought it between them to halt her advance, and touched his lips to it. “You are looking well.”

“Isn’t she?” Layfmuk slipped his arm around her waist. He smiled, but a faint worry line appeared between his brows.

Zedeleam’s smile widened, but she kept it on Taiamuk rather than turning it on his half-brother, and her eyes hardened. She had no intention of entertaining the younger prince with the crown prince returned from his quest in time to claim the throne. She expected Taiamuk to pick up where they left off almost seven years ago. He knew it, and Layfmuk knew it. She was going to be disappointed. Taiamuk planned to encourage Layfmuk to purge himself of her, too.

Venus at Her Mirror by Diego Rodriguez de Silva y Velazquez, 1649-51.  Very Zedeleam.

Venus at Her Mirror by Diego Rodriguez de Silva y Velazquez, 1649-51.
Very Zedeleam.

To join WIPpet Wednesday…

  1. Post a snippet of your WIP that relates to the date
  2. Thank Emily Witt
  3. Link up here
  4. Enjoy good writing
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Three weeks in a row! Look at that. 🙂

I hope you had a good week. Congratulations to all the recent and about-to-be graduates!

Much love to our gracious hostess, Emily Witt.

Math: month + date =  6 + 1 = 7 paragraphs

Character descriptions:

Arvid 5’6″, dark copper skin, long brown hair, brown eyes, gymnast’s build

Taiamuk 6’3″, long red hair, gray eyes, a multitude of freckles, numerous scars, muscles a la young Jackie Chan. Notable scars include three stab wounds on his right side and a long, horizontal gash across his chest. Owns one piece of clothing: trousers.

Necessary Context

  • Arvid has a compelling reason to stay with Tai among his people for a while.
  • The compelling reason is NOT Tai himself. (It is, however, much too main plot spoilery to share.)
  • Underlined text is spoken in Tai’s language.
  • This excerpt is much mangled to avoid spoilers and keep it shortish-ish
  • You can read part one and part two here.
  • Arvid endured a smelly crowd of people trying to greet Tai and now she’s in a carriage (but she doesn’t have a word for carriage).

Tai leaned out his window and shook hands, smiling, laughing, talking. Arvid sat in the dead center out of reach of the greedy fingers, imitating a boulder. She appreciated the space, but the cloying perfume smothered with the same effectiveness as the stench of the people.

The gourd-cart lurched, moved forward, stopped, lurched again, went perhaps five paces, then stopped. Over and over, the same pattern. Lurch, five paces, stop, while the sun rose another two fingerbreadths above the horizon. Tai pulled his torso in, and the cart took off, the horses going at a trot. She heard the crowd running after them, screaming and cheering.

Arvid looked at Tai waving out the window and regretted not asking Sava more about him. It seemed they shared the role of Chosen One among their peoples, though he returned home in victory rather than shame. [Spoilery bit]

The gourd-cart slowed. Tai leaned out, shouted at someone, leaned back, shot her a smile, and jumped out before the cart stopped rolling. She moved over to see where he went just in time to see him and another man with orange hair wrap their arms around each other. Two men with brown hair slammed into them. They slapped Tai’s back, pointed at his new scars, and all talked at once. Arvid smiled at their laughing, bouncing joy and thought of Kiano and his friends when they won a game.

A shout came from beyond the men. Arvid looked up a set of stone steps and, try as she might to keep her expression neutral, her eyes widened as she took in the enormous stone building they led to. It looked, if possible, larger than the Hyarta arena. At the top of the steps, another man, hair blazing like fire, like Tai’s, stood surrounded by men and women doing a poor job of maintaining their dignified poise while they waited for Tai. The men wore strange clothes similar to the ones of the men who escorted the gourd-cart, but in different colors so vibrant, she made a mental note to get the recipe for the dye to give her mother. The women, likewise a mass of blaring color, wore enormous, flouncing dresses that left their shoulders bare.

Tai bounded up the stairs and straight into the arms of the man with blazing hair. The people gave Tai a few heartbeats with him, and a few more with a woman with yellow hair before they engulfed him and happy chatter filled the air again.

Arvid sat back in the gourd-cart, swallowed, and took deep breaths despite the perfume. Tears pricked at her eyelids. She wanted to go home. She wanted to see Father smiling at her again, and go fishing with Kiano, and even listen to Mother grouse about her bad cooking. She wanted to spar with Oya and run the obstacle course.

Home_Sweet_Home_-_Project_Gutenberg_eText_21566

To join WIPpet Wednesday…

  1. Post a snippet of your WIP that relates to the date
  2. Thank Emily Witt
  3. Link up here
  4. Enjoy good writing

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I hope you had a great week!

Since I this snippet is part of a multi-post excerpt, I’m back a second week in a row.

Much love to our gracious hostess, Emily Witt.

Math: 516 words (at last count) for May of 2016

Character descriptions:

Arvid 5’6″, dark copper skin, long brown hair, brown eyes, gymnast’s build

Taiamuk 6’3″, long red hair, gray eyes, a multitude of freckles, numerous scars, muscles a la young Jackie Chan. Notable scars include three stab wounds on his right side and a long, horizontal gash across his chest. Owns one piece of clothing: trousers.

Necessary Context

  • Arvid has a compelling reason to go with Tai to his people and stay a while.
  • The compelling reason is NOT Tai himself. (It is, however, much too main plot spoilery to share.)
  • You can read part one here. Basically: Arvid sees a big city in the distance, she and Tai walk toward it, and now they’re stuck in a smelly crowd.

A hand latched onto hers. She pivoted in the tight space and snapped up her knee. Her assailant twisted to block so her knee met hip instead of groin, then wrapped both arms tight around her, pinning her against himself. Tai. Arvid refrained from scowling, but she wanted to. How did he get through all those people?

A belated gasp went up from those closest to the short tussle. Tai’s smile stayed in place and he sounded pleasant, but he spoke in Nairi, “Oo-arrior does not run from battle.”

The rebuke stung. Alone with him, she would have cringed. With onlookers waiting with held breath -a blessing, as the stench of their bodies needed no help from their mouths- she nodded without changing expression.

Tai’s expression softened. He slipped an arm around her waist, leaving his right hand free for greeting, and pulled her tight. Leading the mob from the middle of it, he moved everyone up the hill.

Now the attention centered on both of them. Arvid saw round eyes, hands flying to mouths, and heads leaning together and knew the gossip vine thrived on the spectacle. Her copper skin drew long stares and curious fingers she smacked away without mercy. The throng continued to grow, pushing and shoving, all trying to get at Tai. One women grabbed him below the dagger belt while he was busy shaking someone’s hand. Arvid kicked her in the stomach, which bought them space for a heartbeat or two as those who saw distanced themselves, but more came to replace them.

In the cool of early spring, when new life perfumed the air and open fields beckoned, Arvid smothered in the heat, press, and stench of that mob. Her knees wobbled, colors blurred together, and the voices sounded distant and muffled. Her fingers itched to draw her sword and cut her way out.

Suddenly, one side of the conglomerate parted. A dozen men dressed in green trousers with purple strips down the sides and ornate tunics covered in embroidery and bits of silver flanked an enormous… Cart? She didn’t have a word for the thing in front of her. It reminded her of a gourd. The driver, dressed like the other men, sat outside it. The sleek horses’ manes and tails were braided and adorned with flowers. Another man jumped out from behind the gourd-cart and hurried to open the door in its side.

Tai stepped up to it and, without giving her time to question or react, lifted her onto a seat within it. The glistening, soft, smooth fabric felt strange against her skin and a heavy floral scent threatened to knock her unconscious. Tai climbed in beside her and shut the door. Hands reached through the open window after him and others reached through on the other side, closer to Arvid.

Tai leaned out his window and shook hands, smiling, laughing, talking. Arvid sat in the dead center out of reach of the greedy fingers, imitating a boulder. She appreciated the space, but the cloying perfume smothered with the same effectiveness as the stench of the people.

I didn't find a carriage I liked, so here's a pretty horse for you.

I didn’t find a carriage I liked, so here’s a pretty horse for you.

To join WIPpet Wednesday…

  1. Post a snippet of your WIP that relates to the date
  2. Thank Emily Witt
  3. Link up here
  4. Enjoy good writing
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