Eyes of the Stone Dragon

A snip from a S&S short story I finished:

Please don't quote or repost without permission.

Dara heard the intruder step on a loose board. She watched as the man froze at the noise he’d made. She did not move, curious to see what the man would do.

He paused for a long moment, then crept to the bed where she lay like a convincing lump. The flash of a knife, a quick plunge of the blade into her chest---

Dara sat up in bed, and instantly realized her mistake. A Moon sign flared to life on the intruder’s brow and the knife throbbed in her chest. This was no ordinary intruder and no ordinary blade.

She snatched the knife from the wound and threw it across the room, but the damage had been done. Stiffness entered her simulacrum, making movement difficult. Dara used a tiny bit of magic and flicked the room’s candles alight. The candles illuminated a short, stocky man dressed in ordinary desert garb, with deep-set eyes and a gently glowing crescent moon in the center of his brow. She could feel her own Sun sign on her forehead grow warm.

“What have you done?” she said.

“What I had to,” he responded. “My name is Morion, and I need your help, Sunmaster Dara.”

“You picked a strange way of asking, Moon Follower. Sneaking around in the middle of the night, stabbing me with a spellbreaker blade--”

Morion’s lips twisted. “Isn’t that what those who follow the Moon Path do? Sneak?”

“What do you want?”

“An exchange,” he said. “In a few moments, the spell that binds together your simulacrum will unwind. I can keep that from happening. In return, I need you to help me destroy Ranifir.”

Dara stared. “One does not easily destroy a stone dragon, Moon Follower. It’s a creature of the Ancient magic, and not subject to the lesser magics. What you want is well-nigh impossible.”

Long Dry Spell

Blogging, that is. Well. At least I've been writing. I'll post a snippet here tomorrow to prove it.

My Husband is Still My Valentine

Happy Valentine's Day, sweetheart!

Creeping Back to Life

I'm beginning to thaw out and write again. I'm going through the Graduate Novel portion of Holly Lisle's "Think Sideways" course, and enjoying myself.

Happy New Year....I Think

Here is a shining example of what I need to do. It's January 1, 2009. I hereby make a resolution to set down a goal--quite modest in nature---to finish the Wintersland story. No matter how long or short it turns out to be.

The story is intended to be a young adult, which should put it around the 80,000 range--we'll see. The story still feels thin in places, so I may need to develop a couple of characters beyond just the name stage.

Merry Christmas!!

(Picture courtesy of Charlieonline Graphics)
http://www.charlieonline.it/Tut-TagXmas_Greetings.htm

As Tiny Tim would say, "God bless us, everyone!"

I Love and I Hate This Time of Year....

I love Christmas-time, but I hate writing this time of year. Too many demands on your time, too much stress, too much food, too little exercise...

But spending time with family is great. That has to come first.

Brief snippet: First draft, please don't quote or repost.

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The wind sprang from nowhere, gale-force, flinging snow in faces and tangling Katie’s hair. She heard people cry out. The wind circled the Wishing Tree, which remained untouched.

Snow whirled, coalesced into a visible shape. As Katie watched, Mel looked back at her, an agonized expression on her face.

Katie reached out.

“Don’t!” someone said.

Katie hesitated. The girl was again at her side, hanging on to her sleeve.

“She is a Yule Ghost! Touch her, and you will share her agony!”

“How can I help her?” Katie asked in a trembling voice. Her sister’s visibly tortured features shredded her insides.

“I—I don’t know,” the girl admitted.

The wind slowed, subsided to a sigh. Mel lost form and being, dissipating on the last breeze.

“Mel!” Katie whispered.

Leave me, Katie. Save yourself.

From somewhere the anger boiled to the surface, and Katie screamed at her sister. “How dare you leave me!”