January 22, 2014

A Thursday Taste, January 23rd

Mmm, a Thursday taste of what's to come! A section of my novel-in-progress, Goblin Fires:

http://pixel.bnetwork.netdna-cdn.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/03/BE_Death_Knight_by_slipgatecentral.jpg -- Inspiration for Reagan, the Lady Knight 
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I brushed at the snowflake-white little pixie, who had flown up very close to tug prankishly at my hair, trying to shoo it away as I watched the girls enter the street at the light change.

Then—almost too late—I realized the little creature wasn't trying to play with me.

It was trying to get my attention.

That's when my hackles went up and my spine stiffened. I felt it—a brief split-second warning, a flutter of feeling in my stomach which was my portent of ill to come. Finn felt me react and in turn he lunged to be ready I saw it first, though, coming up the street too fast, swerving between lanes, heedless of the light: an old, rusted, ugly car, something enormous and boat-like, full of dents.

Careening straight for the Ladies.

We were quick to move. I have said I am no hand at magic but this is why: as the adrenaline rushed through my limbs I surrendered to a surge of unearthly power. I launched myself into the street like a charging beast, lunging violently through the knot of strolling pedestrians and avoiding collision with wildly preternatural speed. Finn, even bigger and broader than I, danced through the started people with the precision of a practiced gymnast. Erin was caught off guard as she saw us rushing at her; at the same time a blue truck waiting to turn noticed the oncoming sedan and sped up to get out of the way. I grabbed the handmaiden and swept her to one side, bringing my hand down on the truck's bumper hard enough to dent it as I forced it to stop. A second vehicle, a utility SUV leaving the park, saw the rust-bucket coming and swerved to the right to avoid being hit; Finn squared himself in front of it, seizing the grill in both hands before it could barrel through the crosswalk. I bounded up over the hood of the truck and managed to grab Nine and Ceridwen out of the way of the oncoming car.

Neri, though, was caught in an instant of paralyzing shock. The rust-bucket screeched, desperately trying to squeal to a stop and instead going into a skid.

It sideswiped Nerissa, knocking her to the street and swerving back towards us as it did. I braced myself between it and Ceri, biting back a shout of pain as it struck me. I stumbled, gritting my teeth as I struggled to hold my ground.

"Neri!" I heard Finn shout behind me. I snarled, dropping my hands behind me to grab the front bumper of the car and lift it up off the faerie girl.

I immediately became aware of the fire.

I'd removed my jacket; the collision had torn the back of my blouse and left a long scrape down the side of my hip. It burned. Where my palms gripped the rusty panels, white-hot pain arced up my hands, all the way down through my arms. Even the proximity of the hot, musty metal, something which surely belonged in a scrap heap, made my eyes burn and head throb.

Iron.

Nerissa and I had just been struck by two tons or more of twisted Detroit steel. And without the benefit of a paint job or finish between us and the lethal metal.

People were panicking. My grip on the car faltered—I was strong enough to hold it but the iron was killing me as I did. I couldn't drop it though. Not on top of Nerissa.

In less than a second, though, Finn was beside me, and he hoisted the car over without a thought. His eyes had gone blazing silver-white, and I was sure mind had, too. With the weight of the car off of me I fell to one knee, and Finn scooped up Nerissa quickly, clutching her close to his chest.

"Reagan!" Ceridwen exclaimed, dropping down at my side. "Are you alright?"

"I am fine," I replied, though the fire was blazing under my skin wherever the iron had touched. "Lady Nerissa?"

"Alive," I heard Finn growl. His voice was choked. The pixies were swarming around us now, more of them than before, glowing like wild embers. The mortals around us were shouting and exclaiming the rust-bucket was ablaze, and there were several hurried instructions to call 911.
 
***

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9 comments:

  1. Great taster choice! Thanks for sharing.
    ~Decadent

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  2. Exciting! Great taster.

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  3. Wonderful taster. I love a hero who can lift a car!

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  4. fantastic. I love well written fantasy though I don't often take time to read it. shame on me. cant wait to read more of your tasters

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  5. So much action! Great writing. You didn't lose me in the crash and who was doing what. Excellent.

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  6. Excellent. I loved how you moved the story at a rapid pace, not allowing me to pause.

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  7. I agree with everyone: Great Taster! And with Dianne specifically. The action was descriptive, exciting and you didn't lose me in the accident either with what was taking place and with whom. I adored your word pictures...rust bucket....enormous and boat-like, full of dents.....Careening straight for the Ladies. I can't remember the last time I used "careening". Fab!!!

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  8. Mmmm - I like my fantasy a clash of real-world and imagined, just like this. Very dynamic - complex fast-moving events described in sharp detail. Visceral, that's the word. Keeps a reader reading. Good luck with 'Goblin Fires'.

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