Daily Excerpt Post - November 21st

[alison-sky.livejournal.com]

POST YOUR NOVEL EXCERPT HERE!!!!

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No more than 4000 words, and please no multiple posts!


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[mteson.livejournal.com]

As she sat, the wind pushed strands of Rachel’s hair in her face. I watched her brush them back behind her ear. She turned her attention to the grass and ran her fingers through the blades.

I gazed out across the city. The complete lack of organization, the chaos and anarchy in the layout astounded me. How did they build it? How did this beautiful city grow?

“What are you looking at?” She asked me.
“Nothing really,” I replied. “It’s just nice to be here.”
“Yeah it is.”

We stared out at the city for a few more minutes. Out of the corner of my eye I could see that she was looking at me. I adjusted how I was sitting and she immediately turned back to the grass. I took a second to try to memorize this moment, to lock it away for safekeeping. I had a friend once who used to tell me that I needed to live in the moment, every moment, because this moment was my life, and this moment would never come again. I admit that I didn’t really believe that when he told it to me, but right there, on that little patch of lawn, I suddenly felt the moment passing through me, each second giving way to the next. Even though the cathedral and the squares of grass all around it were packed with people just like us, tourists and families laying on the green and enjoying the view, I couldn’t hear or see any of them. All I could hear was the wind rustling through the trees, a few faint birds, and the sound of Rachel singing “Dear Prudence” to herself in a wistful and lilting mezzo-soprano. And all I could see was us.

My friend was right. This moment was my life. I couldn’t control the smile that crept up onto my face. For the first time in a long time, I was here.

[gleiphnir.livejournal.com]

"As decreed by His Holiness Vorlusk Tjirschen Lusnoch, vessel of our Highest Lady--may she live and reign forever--the people of Amarastad are to henceforth discontinue the worship of unworthy symbols. Rites involving the unnaturally large tree shall be canceled and replaced with the acceptable rites as explained to your village leaders. Our Highest Lady--may she live and reign forever--has written in a former life that the dirt, animals and plant matter of the world have been gifted to its people to use as tools and materials to further our greatness and assist in the events that will elevate us to the cosmos. Know that trees, including very large trees, are little more than machines created by our holy God for our benefit, and our Highest Lady--may she live and reign forever--teaches that worshiping machines is a high sin that will be repaid with pain and suffering in the next life. Our God has granted the Shorn the responsibility of ending idol worship by converting the world's peoples or, if they can not be converted, harkening their passage into the next life. The proposed guidelines will be met, or we shall see that your people have pain in this life and the next. These requirements have been approved by your Empirical Leader, the most elevated Ulfried Kirbethan Frossel Torvald Dirsprakenten, Emperor of these lands and first foreign associate of our Highest Lady--may she live and reign forever."

[scheaduwe.livejournal.com]

I wanna read YOUR story -grins- Looks nice.

[ink-kee.livejournal.com]

-drool-

[fearlessfirefly.livejournal.com]

Was this what Sendhil had gone through when he stepped through the door to the room with the TV at the hospital? The key to knowing what was happening had been hiding behind a wooden barrier - did he have any doubts, any hesitations before walking in?

No. Of course not. He was a doctor, and doctors dealt with such decisions every day. 'Not me!' shouted Colin's younger self (younger by several days, but what a difference those days had made!) 'I didn't sign up for this!'

Too late, Colin thought, and stepped through the door.

[cheyinka]

It was only a short walk to the chapel, and there Katya saw that the altar had been broken, blood poured on it, and ashes scattered around it. The iconostasis had been broken down, and the icons had been trampled upon. There was even a dismembered hand, apparently forgotten by the goblins, decaying slowly next to the door to the sacristy.

She dropped to her knees and wanted to do nothing more than cry and flee. Suddenly, however, she saw light coming from the broken altar, and from every one of the trampled icons, and she was transfixed by the color of it -- golden, like honey from the comb, or firelight, or pure liquid gold; golden, like the color that iconographers used to represent the light of Heaven.

Heedless of the filth on the floor in front of her, Katya fell on her face. She could still see the light, and now she could taste the sweetness of it, like honey on her tongue, and feel the warmth of it, like the heat of a fireplace after hours outside in the cold.

The reassuring light, the nourishing sweetness, and the comforting warmth filled her, and though some part of her knew that she was still prostrate on the floor, she felt as though she was looking down from the ceiling. Monks were fighting and dying to defend the chapel, against two men with armor, swords, and supernatural strength. Katya could see that the monks were all glowing dimly with the same kind of light that had exuded from the altar, while the attackers seemed to darken the area they were in, with vaguely red-tinted shadows.

[veedub.livejournal.com]

Jason was born in April 1966, and for the first time I had problems giving birth, so both JD and I were glad that I hadn't taken the midwife home-birth option, but had gone to Cook County Hospital again. At first when I went in the doctors thought I was having twins, but it turned out that the baby was what they call a transverse lie; stuck sideways, in this case trying to be born right arm first. I was full of morphine, but it didn't seem to either slow labor down or kill the pain, just make me fuzzy in the head. The doctor reached in to try and turn the baby, but Jason wasn't having any of that, and remained firmly transverse. I remember lying on a gurney in the hall outside surgery with the doctor yelling that "someone better get me an OR now, or we'll have a ruptured uterus and a dead baby!" You can just imagine how confident that made me feel.

The doctor got his OR in good time to deliver me of a healthy baby by Caesarian section. I was just able to achieve consciousness enough to ask what the baby was and to hear someone say "it's a boy," before drifting off again. When I saw Jason for the first time, I was charmed by his full head of dark hair, which sported a white streak; the other two had been pretty much bald at birth, and only developed full heads of hair by six months, in Diana's case and by a year in Mark's.

I had to stay at County for a full week because of the C-section; at first I was in a recovery room with one other woman who had also had a C-section. She was a Native American and a dwarf; her husband was also Native American, but over six feet tall, so all her babies had to be surgically delivered. They made an odd-looking couple when he came to visit. Surgical patients were allowed visitor, so JD came to see me. He said that when he phoned the hospital to find out if the baby had been born, someone had told him that it had died. Cook County Hospital, what can I say... I remember seeing a cockroach crawling across my blanket, and when I told the nurse's aide, she looked at me as if I were crazy and said, "This is Cook County Hospital, what do you expect?"

After the first couple of days I was moved to the ward. One of the new mothers had a radio, and the song that was playing incessantly was Percy Sledge's "When A Man Loves a Woman." My Native friend was down the aisle, and we would wave at each other as we walked up and down the ward for exercise. There were several other women named Walker, and even another Jason Walker among the babies, but there was no fear of my getting the wrong baby, as I was one of the very few white women in the ward. One of the other white women was a six-foot tall teenager who had given birth to the biggest baby anyone had ever seen, a twelve-and-a-half-pound girl who looked just like Rocky Graziano. Our babies were brought to us twice a day for feeding; no question of formula feeding for this group.

[jedi-bria.livejournal.com]

It would be another week before she would meet Muff. As Beth stood in ankle deep water shivering in a tunnel under an alley she began to wonder how she got here and why hadn’t she taken off to the skies when she had the chance… and the money?

She didn’t get to contemplate it any further because that was when Muff appeared. One minute she was alone, the next he was before her. No sound of him approaching and she hadn’t seen anything arrive. Yet he now stood before her. His hair was wild, twisted and matted it sprung from his head like an unruly plant. His beard was much the same only not as twisted and perhaps cleaner. His clothes were worn, but well cared for, patched in some places. He was cleaner than she had anticipated. Truth be told, Beth had been expecting a mad homeless man, but he seemed well put together, all things considered.

“Muff?” Although there could be little chance he was anyone else, her voice held a note of doubt.

“Abethany Windblower, Muff never thought he’d see the days where one of your kind would find their way into his city… let alone seek to travel under her.” For someone who appeared to live a solitary life, his voice didn’t suffer from it. It was rough around the edges but warm enough.

“My kind? Your city?”

“Your kind, air people… pirates. Yes, she’s mine. Muff alone know all her secrets, long forgotten by time. The ones that are remembered are considered myths, legends.” He paused, cocking his head to the side, “How do you think the peoples of Nenway would take it if they knew all the myths are true?”

There was something vaguely familiar about those words. She forced a laugh, “I’m sure they’re not all true.”

He nodded gravely, “They are.”

She raised her eyebrow, “Even the Winged Man?”

“Especially the Winged Man. If it weren’t for the Winged Man, you wouldn’t be here today with Muff.”

Beth had trouble processing how the tale of a half man, half gargoyle rescuing an orphaned prince could possibly lead a chain of events that would lead to her standing beneath a city she despised talking to a man who lived in a sewer. And that was of course assuming that the story was even true. “Does the Winged Man have anything to do with showing me around the city tonight?”

Muff gave a small smile, “Perhaps.” There was a glint in his eye.

“Fair enough,” Beth reassured herself that her sword was still at her side.

more from 'The Poisoned Veil'

[ladyseraph-756.livejournal.com]

He closed the door firmly behind him, facing his cousin.
“What’s going on? Are you involved with this one? Is that why she was about to throw herself off the Pont Neuf?”
Nick’s handsome face curved into a smug smile. “There was a certain something going on in the wilds I must admit. Most entertaining-”
“You seduced her? Nicolas, you are utterly incorrigible!”
“I haven’t slept with her yet, but she wants it. She craves me-“ Nick drawled. “-Give me a little credit for having some class-“
“And it amuses you to play with a young girl’s heart like that. What have you done?”
“Nothing! Her husband was a brute, scarcely deserved the boon of a lovely young girl like that in his bed every night. I was doing him and her a favour by intervening-“
“La Seraphina mentioned some kind of murder. The husband died in his bed from stab wounds. You know anything about that?”
“Don’t fuss, it was the only way-“
So you are responsible, Nick. What have you done? thought Vivonne in alarm.
“I don’t know what you’re playing at, but you’re playing a dangerous game.”
“A dangerous game, but worth every single bit of risk. I think she is the one, Louis-Victor, I really do.”
“You want to marry her?” Vivonne couldn’t hide his surprise.
“Why not? My father wants me to marry. Secure the family name, bring forth an heir. Why not her?”
Vivonne shook his head, troubled by Nick’s cynicism. “You are crazy. There’s no way in hell that the Le Grand Marquis will allow you to marry a girl like that never mind her background. With La Seraphina as an aunt... an actress, a singer-”
“A courtesan? Don’t mince words I know what you meant. I’ll have you know that Pippa Foley is of noble blood, Louis-Victor. Maybe not as pure and noble as ours but she has nothing to be ashamed of. As for my illustrious father, at this point I dare say he’d be glad if I shackled myself to anyone-“
“You are a Rochechouart by birth! You should have more pride in your ancestry.”
“If ‘having more pride in my ancestry’ means roping myself to some inbred high born woman, then I’ll none of it. Get this straight, I want Eve Foley, body and soul-“
“You want me to leave her to your advances? Alone with you all night?-“
Nick’s dark eyes narrowed appraisingly. Vivonne was reminded sharply of the Le Grand Marquis and his ruthlessness. The Prince d’Argenteuil was famed for his guile, arrogance and his utter conviction that his every desire should be met at once. Nick was truly his father’s son at that moment.
“It would help dear cousin. Let nature and emotions take their course, for who would be fool enough to argue with fate?”
Vivonne was troubled by his cousin and the girl but agreed, ignoring his uneasy conscience. Maybe it’s not my business to interfere. He wants her and she must be in love with him. If Nick wants her so badly-
“Don’t hurt her!”
“What? Are you getting all sentimental on me, dear coz?”

[usedusernames.livejournal.com]

“Boss seemed awright,” George told the dishwasher.

“Sure he awright, till he got to pay.”

George swore, then at once seemed to catch on that it was a joke being played on him. “Ain’t no way someone work here long as you does without getting paid for it.”

“Try to stiff me once. I says to him, I says, I gots a cousin who practices law an’ I’ll get him to come on down and make ever’thing you done come out open so no one will work for you ‘cept Mexicans-- Boss don’t like Mexicans,” he offered as an aside. “So he says awright and he pays me.”

“I don’t got no cousin lawyers,” George said.

[alienamanda.livejournal.com]

"You disobeyed my rules, all of you." IaES stated with hatred. "Breaking rule number six is not only a disobedient action but also, a pathetic one to break. I understand you are all 'innocent boys and girls', so I letting you off with a harsh warning. In about five minutes, a man in a tuxedo will install a camera for this house. This camera will see and hear everything you say. So, anymore stupid actions from any of you will result in a trial for a possible punishment. Then, we'll see who is the fool after I throw you into testing grounds for the rest of your lives. Good day." A tone dial bleeped sending an extra shock to the young hearts. Autumn felt her chest ache and her happiness deteriating piece by piece. She went all the way to Washington to take down an enemy, only to let her enemy take her down first. Regret ripped her soul apart but not one tear slipped off her cheeks.

[ink-kee.livejournal.com]

As they ran off with their hostage, already gloating at the imminent wad of cash they were bound to earn from Hanley, Benji was stuck. He could easily take out each member of their pussy gang, but you never knew when they would play dirty. His fingers itched at the prospect of slugging some asshole in the face, but at what cost to Oliver? Hanley would tear his head (and something else, he was sure) clean off if he lost one of his favorites, but it wasn’t just that stopping him; Oliver was Benji’s partner, and he had been for years, and he was the closest thing he had to a friend. Did he really want to risk Oliver for the satisfying crunch of a nose breaking under his fist?

He stood his ground, irritated at himself. He knew this wasn’t a big deal. He knew they were bluffing, and that they were too scared to actually hurt Oliver, but goddamnit, he hated Hanley’s protocol. Report back to me, he says, Benji thought bitterly. Give me updates, don’t be reckless, he says… Fucking idiot.

Benji glanced back. Felix was still standing there, clearly shaken. He looked awkward and out of place. If this was how he handled a fairly tame confrontation like this, Benji wasn’t sure if he was cut out to be in a gang. It was his first time, Benji understood, but the kid looked so scared and… useless.

Suddenly a light flicked on in Benji’s brain and Felix become more than a vegetable.

“Hey, Felix,” Benji called, jolting the freshman out of his daze. “Do me, us, a favor. Go back to Hanley and tell him what happened. Tell him they have Oliver and want money."

Felix nodded slowly. As Benji turned to run off, he stammered, “W-wait! Where are you going?

“Where does it look like I’m going? I’m going to go rescue Princess Dumbshit.”