September 22, 2013
Greetings!
Okay, I have to
take a break from mentioning what's going on during my favorite shows to
completely toot my horn over making apple butter for the first time and having
it turn out totally awesome! Seriously, if it passes the man and kids test, it's pretty much a 'write
it down for posterity' kind of deal. LOL
Tonight's post is
from Utter Not a Word and it's one of my favorite types of fiction, writing
wise. I love to take a word or phrase and set the tone of the whole manuscript
with it. In this story, the main characters take something of a journey,
growing and stretching until they fit together so well, they have to blend. J
Here's the tagline:
Maren Roth is reeling
over the loss of her oldest friend after a skirmish with an opposing faction
goes horribly wrong. Wayne Edelman, a superior adept with the responsibility of
their sect resting in his hands, offers comfort and support in a very
unexpected way and Maren realizes the man has become an expert on reading her
moods. With a huge battle brewing, she takes solace in the concept that
together with Wayne, they might have a fighting chance at winning.
And the preview snippet…
Maren nudged Wayne with her knee.
"Move over."
His eyes blinked open but he
didn't argue, scooting to the rear of the berth, letting her crawl in under the
covers. She gave him credit. He didn't wrap an arm around her or spoon up
against her. And he wanted to, she knew it with certainty. But he'd wait. Bide
his time until she relaxed, which might be never, or in five minutes.
She had no clue.
At least she'd sleep. The sound
of his breathing would soothe and lull her into slumber. The heat from his body
would warm the chill she couldn't quite shake. And the solid, quiet strength of
him would prop her up and get her through another night and carry over to the
next day. He wouldn't ask how she felt, or if she needed anything, or whether
something had gone wrong.
He'd hold back, and let her open
up when she could face the situation head on. A new, and frankly odd,
experience. Maren didn't know when Wayne got hip to her, when he started to
read her moods so damn well she didn't have to speak a word.
But she appreciated it.
Appreciated him.
Someday she'd have to tell him in
plain terms.
But not tonight. She craved the
comfort and warmth he provided. The safe haven only he seemed able to create.
Reaching out, she found his hand,
palm up, and she laced their fingers together. The connection steadied her and
soothed her weary heart.
She yawned then sighed, finally
letting her mind calm. "Thank you."
Wayne didn't speak. He squeezed
her hand then hauled her close, tucking her head under his chin. Maren burrowed
close and her eyes drifted shut, the events of the day slowly seeping away
under the rhythmic beating of Wayne's heart and his slow, even breathing.
Order from chaos. Courage born of
despair. Wayne equaled light at the end of her very dark road and Maren held
on, relishing his ability to just be there.
And utter not a word.
I'm not one hundred
percent certain how this one is going to work out, but Maren's on the right
track. Wouldn't you agree?
That's it for this
week.
Cheers!
Skye
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