Thursday, November 25, 2010
Last Rose of Summer - Celtic Woman
So, I decided to let ye all read some of one of my stories, Irish Rose.
Because most of my creative energy goes into writing Ice Sword Chronicles, this story is among many left on the back burner.
Though maybe I can convince you to see diamond in the rough.
I started writing this novel about 4 years ago, though I stopped soon after. I just started really writing again last November.
One of my dreams is to actually finish and get this book published. I'm a long way off, considering I haven't fully written the rough draft yet, but I'm getting there.
I'll let you read some info on it then an excerpt.
Motive: I first decided to write this book to prove that I could write a story just as good as, if not better than, Eragon. As time passed, I was more focused on creating and completing a work of art that I hoped would be enjoyed and appreciated by others.
Summary: Sheila Gallowglass undertakes the challenge of moving her siblings across the war-torn country with the hope of reuniting with their parents. However, this task proves to be more difficult than she imagined.
Setting: American Civil War, early 1860’s
Excerpt:
~~~~~ Out of the Frying Pan ~~~~~
“What… what do you want?” Sheila backed away from the gruff men. Three more shoved past Elisabeth into the small cabin. “We’re here to take you and the rats to trial for helping a runaway slave!” the leader spat. “She’s not a slave!” Elisabeth said, clearly infuriated. “Ain’t she now? I guess we’ll just have to see about that!” With those words, the thugs slowly moved in to capture her young siblings. The leader of this hoard of villains made his way to Sheila. “Stay away from us.” her weak reply only caused him to laugh. She knew she needed to stop them, but she only continued backing away from the invaders. Sheila glanced behind herself when she bumped into the wall. She had backed right into a corner between the wall and the stove. Filled with fear, she looked back at the evil man. Sheila knew she was trapped and so did her kidnapper. “Nowhere to go, huh?” he sneered as he edged closer. “Get away from her!” Liam dashed forward in an effort to save his sister. Before he could reach his target, one of the ruffians lifted him into the air and threw him to the ground. Liam landed on his back with a loud thump. The leader turned to Liam, a deep sickening laugh emanating from his throat. “What are you trying to pull here, kid? You can’t stop us!” With fury in his eyes, Liam hopped to his feet and made a mad dash for the man. He shoved past the first two minions, but another one hit Liam in the face so hard it knocked him back down to the floor. Liam stayed down, blood spilling from his nose and his eyes squeezed shut with pain. The heinous man laughed even harder. All the men in the group laughed with him. They all mocked Liam and his attempt to protect his sister. Sheila couldn’t stand seeing Liam defeated and lying on the floor in anguish. With the evil men’s laughter ringing in her ears, Sheila took hold of the heavy iron skillet sitting on the stove. “Get out!” With a mighty swing, Sheila hit the leader just as he turned back to face her. Howling in pain, he fell to the floor clutching his bleeding head. Stunned, the kidnappers ceased their advancement. Brandishing the frying pan as a sword, Sheila charged to the closest thug and swung again. This man had to swiftly scramble out of the way to avoid the oncoming attack. Sheila changed directions and flew at the next man. Not being able to move quickly enough, he caught the blow of the heavy pan with his side. With fire in her eyes, she pressed the assault. Just as she brought the pan down in another heavy swing, a pair of arms grabbed her from behind and lifted her into the air. Caught by surprise, Sheila dropped her makeshift weapon and heard it clatter on the wooden floor. “Let me go!” Screaming, she thrashed her legs in an effort to get away. Her violent struggling caused her captor to lose his hold. She deftly landed on both feet and made a dive for the skillet. Just as she turned around, she felt a sudden crash to the back of her head. She crumpled to the floor, blood dripping from her head. The cruel leader of the gang of kidnappers glared at Sheila’s unconscious form. “Get the rats!” Only one subordinate was fooling enough hesitate in carrying out the command. “What about her?” His timid question evoked even more rage from his livid boss. “Leave her to die!” he spat out with hate. Sheila could still hear Tulia’s cries as her vision faded to black.
Labels:
excerpt,
frying pan,
Irish Rose,
writing
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