Some pretty cool things have happened this week. On Saturday you all got to know me a little better. Then on Monday we had an amazing cracklesauce party (I’m still dancing, how about you?). Yesterday ~well, you know it was my birthday so it was super fabulous~ and today is my 100th post! I can’t believe I have more than 2 posts, so to have 100? Blown. Away. To mark this crazy happy occasion, I thought it only fitting to share some of my novel, The Temple of Ardyn with all of you. Why? Because I got memed.
What exactly is The Lucky 7 MEME? Here’s how it works:
- Go to page 77 of current WIP
- Go to line 7
- Copy down next 7 lines/sentences/paragraphs & post them as they’re written
- Tag 7 other authors
- Let them know
Fabulous! Let’s get started then. It’s a little strange to be posting something that throws you into the middle of a scene, but rules are rules!
Sword. The voice rasped in her mind. There was no pain, just a sense of panic and fear.
The sword hung by the thinnest of threads above his chest. She had to do something before it broke free and pierced his heart. An idea came to her. It was crazy and Rhoane wouldn’t approve, but it was all she had.
Hang on, Taryn told the voice and ran full speed at the bed.
When she got a few feet away she jumped as high as she could and kicked out. When her foot made contact, it sounded as if every bell in the world rang inside her mind and her pendant shrieked against the burning pain that shot up her leg. Shreds of ShantiMari snaked around her boot hissing and snarling as if it were alive. Rhoane stepped aside just before she and the sword went crashing to the ground.
Another slice of pain cut through her shoulder when she hit the ground. The cacophony of sound disoriented her. Time slowed. Rhoane was speaking to her, helping her up, but all she saw were the threads of ShantiMari tightening around the man. A faint voice in her mind said he couldn’t breathe. She had to help him. Faelara and Myrddin called to her and somewhere in the deep recesses of her thoughts Brandt told her to remain calm, to remember to focus.
She grabbed the sword that lay at her feet. When she touched the handle a shock ran up her arm. Not like her leg, which felt on fire, but a soothing feeling as if the handle welcomed her touch. The pain in her shoulder lessened. With a powerful swing she raised the sword and brought it down over the man, slicing through the threads that sought his life.
“Taryn, no.” Faelara cried out and amber threads of Mari shot toward her, but they were blocked by Rhoane’s Shanti.
“Hold, Faelara.” Rhoane’s voice was like iron. “She won’t harm him.”
Now’s the fun part! I get to tag seven lucky recipients to play the game, but like Saturday, I’m going to tag all of you! Hey, it’s my birthday week, I’ll do what I want and that means breaking all the rules. We’re keeping this blog party going, so go on, tell us what’s happening on page 77 of your work in progress.