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Musings Of A Wordsmith

The Wallace Works Blog where our resident Wordsmith and others talk about what is going on and what may come.

Thursday Preview

Seeing as the first draft of Faith And Blood was completed a few weeks ago I felt that this Thursday I’d give you a little snippet of what you’ll see inside.

It’s still a little rough and NOT the beginning of the story so it’s not the kind of preview you’ll get when it goes up to for purchase. I thought doing this little bit extra might be fun for those of you who read the blog and are on the mailing list. Enjoy!

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Excerpt from Faith And Blood Chapter 4 “Poison Footsteps”

Al didn’t know if it was the density of the foliage or the lack of accompaniment but the swamp looked somehow more … evil? The black and white flora blended into a a jagged collision of lines that looked like teeth as though everything was just waiting for the opportunity to lash out and consume her, and given the ‘tree’ Urkjorman fought last night that might be so.

A light, musical chirp came from her side where the zerkesh was snuggling.

“We off the track little guy?” Al asked as she held up the creature and couldn’t help but nuzzle it. It pulled at her face with its eight pudgy limbs and tangled its claws into her hair. “Stop, that’s not for eating.”

A derisive snort escaped Omil but he had given up grumbling about the creature’s existence, at least for now.

Al pulled out a clutch of berries and offered it to the creature, waiting patiently as it half ate half destroyed the small yellow orbs.

“Is it ready?” asked Omil.

“Just about,” answered Al making sure it had finished eating the berries and didn’t ask for more. She set it down then and let it half crawl half swim through the swamp.

“This is taking too long,” muttered Omil.

“It is still faster than following, or hunting,” said Urk.

The two looked at each other like the other was viper coiled to strike.

“He’s got the trail,” said Al, pointing to the zerkesh hurriedly moving forward.

Omil stared at Urk a few more moments before moving ahead in the direction the little creature was going to look for tracks they could follow.

Al picked the zerkesh up once more, “I got you little guy.”

“Is it,” asked Urk as he fell into step next to her.

“Is it?”

“A guy? Do zerkesh have guys?”

“Yes,” called back Omil. “Mothers to lay eggs, fathers to protect the territory.”

“And which is this, can you tell?” asked Al.

Omil stopped and Al could see the tension slowly bleed from his back. He cast his gaze back to Al and all animosity simply evaporated as his eyes met hers. “It’s a boy. They have larger tusks. A female wouldn’t have been able to spray you so shortly after hatching.”

Tartarina’s voice drifted through the air like flower petals on the wind, “congratulations. It’s a boy!”

“What should we name him?” asked Al.

Tartariana tapped a perfect finger to her plump limps. “How about … Scout?”

“Oh that’s good, I love it! Hiya Scout!”

Scout chirped happily.

Omil and Urkjorman groaned.

Al and Tart laughed.

“No matter how different they are,” began Tartariana. “Boys will be boys.”

“For better or … “ Al’s words trailed off as a leaden weight seemed to lay across her mind. It took her a moment to realize her lungs weren’t drawing in air. She stumbled into a tree and knew, intellectually, the bark grinding across her skin would have been painful but the numbness of her skin made it too distant.
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I hope you enjoyed that. Have a good day and God bless;
~S. Wallace

Stephen Wallace