by Sarah | Apr 26, 2013 | Books, Morgana Chronicles, Sweet Saturday Samples, Writing
Another Saturday, another sample.
Sweet Saturday Samples are samples of any story, published, unpublished, whatever you like. Any genre is welcome of any heat level – but the samples themselves are all rated PG-13, so yes, all samples are safe for innocent (or not) eyes.
It’s been quite some time since I brought out Into a Mirror Darkly to show off. It’s a WIP, and to put it into a genre would be difficult as it spans several. Red is one of my favorite characters to date. She truly kicks butt. It is a first draft of a WIP, so excuse any errors.
I hope you enjoy it. And don’t forget to check out Sweet Saturday Samples for more samples!
By now Gran should have the silver weapons cleaned of ogre blood, so Red wouldn’t have to feel unprotected for long. Whether or not Gran had put protection spells on Red’s land meant little. Magic was too scarce these days to be reliable. That’s why the damnable clockwork inventions were everywhere – replacing magic.
With a sigh, Red turned to the wall. In place of a real mirror hung a well-shined metal plate. No matter much the plate shone, the reflection was still warped and muddled, leaving much to be desired.
She twisted her lips and tapped the lid of a small pot on the shelf below the plate. The internal debate dissipated when she heard a familiar masculine laugh outside. Without further hesitation she took the extra step to line her eyes with coal and enhance her lips with rich red.
“It’s so rare that I get to say you remind me so much of your sister.” Gran’s voice comforted her while her words twisted a long buried knife in Red’s belly.
“Except we both know I’m nothing like Snow.” Red reached for the brush, but it was snatched out of the way and running through her hair too fast. With just a few brush strokes and a whisper of a spell, Red’s rich auburn hair fell in gentle waves across her shoulders. “We don’t even look alike. Just because I made my lips red doesn’t mean we have anything in common.”
Gran tsked, straightening the clothes Red had scattered in her search for an outfit. “She’s your sister, Rose. Don’t hold such hatred in your heart for blood.”
“Is she really, Gran? Is she really, truly, my blood?” As usual the question silenced her Gran in ways nothing else would. At eighty six the woman could boast to rarely ever outright lying. With another eighty or so years ahead of her if magic hung around long enough, she’d do her best to keep that record.
“Of course she’s blood,” Gran finally admitted.
“Blood. But is she really my sister? Mother always said we were twins, born minutes apart.” Red wrapped a lock of red hair around her finger, thinking of Snow’s jet black hair and ‘pale as snow’ skin. The opposite of Red’s deep olive skin that turned dark brown in the months the sun shone through the dust clouds. “And besides appearance we certainly have nothing else in common.”
“You did once.” Gran set a hand on her arm, the fierce fire of a woman devoted to her family bursting forth in the depths of her blue eyes. Years of experience lined her features, while the beauty she’d been in youth came out in the high cheekbones and plump lips she still stained daily. “In the Before.”
“Yes, well in the Before there was magic galore to blind us to such things. Amazing how hiding the sun has revealed truths, like how much some people are willing to sacrifice for wealth and position.”
“Do not speak ill of your sister.”
“She sleeps in that woman’s castle. The one that killed her own husband, not to mention her niece.” Red snatched her arm back, “Your cardinal rule is to not ignore company isn’t it, Gran? I should go greet Solange.”
Gran’s strength and ferocity faded with the mention of Misty, and she gave a nod, “You’re right of course. Let’s go join your guest then.”
Red wrapped an arm around Gran’s shoulder and kissed her temple, “Sorry Gran. I don’t like fighting with you. Let’s just try to have a good afternoon. Find out what it is Solange wants so that I can take that head in and collect the bounty.”
“No more ogres for a while, please. I’m running low on supplies. Protecting all of those bags and cleaning your clothes ate most of them up.” The twinkle returned to Gran’s blue eyes, “Much as I know you like a challenge. Sometimes a challenge can be found right at home.”
by Sarah | Apr 19, 2013 | Books, Challenge, Hex Ranch, Sweet Saturday Samples, Writing
Another Saturday, another sample.
Sweet Saturday Samples are samples of any story, published, unpublished, whatever you like. Any genre is welcome of any heat level – but the samples themselves are all rated PG-13, so yes, all samples are safe for innocent (or not) eyes.
I’m going back to something that’s sitting in my files waiting for my return. A Historical Western Paranormal Romance. How’s that for a tongue twister? Anyway, I call it Hex Ranch. It’s definitely a WIP, and very little is written, but I love the characters. I hope you enjoy it. And don’t forget to check out Sweet Saturday Samples for more samples!
“So are you really a witch?”
Thea let one corner of her lips lift to betray her amusement. “I don’t think that’s an appropriate question Sheriff.”
His brow quirked up, drawing her attention back to the stunning azure of his eyes. Just like the skies in her dreams since she was a girl. “The town is sure you are. After the way your cowhand died, you could be at risk.”
“Oh I doubt that.” She allowed the smile to unfurl to its fullest at the idea he might actually worry for her safety. “They are frightened of the magic they think I got. Like I might turn them all into toads or something.”
“Can you do that?” Seth’s voice dropped to a secretive and excited tone. “Just for curiosities sake.”
“That’s against the laws of nature,” she laughed. “How could you turn a man into something so small? Why try? Why waste magic on such dark things if it’s real?”
“Is it real?”
“Do you believe in God?”
He straightened with a blink and a small shake of his head. Dark brows furrowed together in an adorable twist of confusion. She really could eat the man up if he let her, but for now he was too focused on magic. He opened his mouth, then shut it before he set his hands on his hips. “What’s that got to do with anything?”
“Everything, Sheriff.”
“Not sure I follow.”
She sighed and pulled the hat off her head, twirling it through her fingers with a frown. After a moment she tossed it to the porch and held out her hand, “Come with me. Come on, I promise I ain’t gonna bite unless you want me to.”
After a brief hesitation he set his hand on hers, but before she could pull him away he yanked her close. His face hovered close to hers, sending warm tingles right between her legs at the thought he might kiss her. It had been years since she’d had a man, a good one.
“You’ll behave? Wouldn’t want to arrest you for kidnapping the Sheriff.”
Goddess, she really wanted him to take her right now.
by Sarah | Apr 12, 2013 | Books, Challenge, Holiday, Sweet Saturday Samples, Writing
I thought another meme was in order to give my blog some life on the weekends. Thankfully fellow SCP author, Jean Joachim pointed out this new meme to show of samples of our stories.
Sweet Saturday Samples are samples of any story, published, unpublished, whatever you like. Any genre is welcome of any heat level – but the samples themselves are all rated PG-13, so yes, all samples are safe for innocent (or not) eyes.
I know this week I already did a sample of Santa, Maybe with my Hump Day Hook, but I wanted to show a more cheerful sample of the story. Again, this is an unedited WIP that I’m writing for a submission call. I hope you enjoy it. And don’t forget to check out Sweet Saturday Samples for more samples!
She sighed and placed another kiss to the top of his head. “You’ll never guess who found me online last year.”
The change in subject relaxed his tight hold on her and the tension drained from his shoulders. “Who would that be?”
“Dolf.”
“No way.” That proved enough to reenergize him and he propped himself up on his elbow to face her. “Not the Dolf Biermann from 4G.”
“Yes. The very same.” Out of the sadness of a few minutes ago, they both started to grin. Her cheeks grew tight from her smile. “The one that used to play the accordion every night at 3:30AM on the dot.”
He started to chuckle. “And there was no soundproofing in that place. My God, do you remember that apartment?”
Laughter burst from its seams and she nodded fiercely. “Are you kidding? It was our first home! Not that I’d call it an apartment. It was a postage stamp.”
“And we barely scraped by on rent.” He nestled into the covers, his hand slipping along her stomach in a familiar and comfortable gesture. “You worked your ass off.”
“You had school.”
“And you had work and lessons. I still don’t know how you did it. Or how you managed to cook anything on that—well, I can’t call it a stove.”
“It was a glorified hot plate.” Tears started to form, her laughter grew so strong. “And that landlord. He was such a peeping tom. I swear he bore holes in the walls to look in on his tenants.”
“He was so creepy.” Alan shook his head. “I hope that guy doesn’t still run a building. He’s probably figured out how to install those small cameras all over the place.”
She shuddered. “Ugh. I wouldn’t doubt it. Creepy doesn’t begin to cover him.”
“Sad that I miss that place sometimes.”
“Looking back is always easier. It was a wonderful time in our lives.”
Another Saturday, another sample.
