Welcome back, Minions--see, that was much better than yesterday's intro!
Some of you are here because you're dying to quench your growing thirst for a glimpse into Wilde's Meadow, the third and final book in my Darkness Falls series. And some of you are here because you're part of the Curiosity Quills Haunted Writing Clinic and Contest.
I'm here because . . . ahh, well, I have what everyone's looking for.
So, to keep the rambling short, and to give you all what you desire, I'll shut up and get to pasting!
Enjoy!
(Clinic guests, please stay tuned after the first page!)
Chapter One
"You let that greasy pig off too easily," Flanna mumbles, holding a sharp, wooden needle between her lips.
I glance down at the top of her red head. "If it weren't for that greasy pig, you wouldn't be sewing this ridiculous looking costume on me right now."
She removes the torture device from her mouth and glares at me, narrowing her brilliant blue eyes. "This is not a costume, and it is not ridiculous. You already died once. Next time you may not be as lucky."
Three days have passed since Arland and I committed our lives to each other, to these people and world—uniting everyone in the process—and as much as things have changed, a few of my friends still have issues getting over misunderstandings from a long time ago.
"Flanna, I know what happened to your mom, and I know you blame Dufaigh, but he is trying to be good." I jump from the creaking stool she has me standing on like an abused model, then take her hand in mine. "He's brought leather and metal for you to make armor for me, like you so oddly requested. He hasn't threatened to kill anyone, he hasn't argued, he hasn't done anything that should make us think otherwise."
She huffs, blowing hair from her face. "I know. I believe that is my problem. I have never trusted him, but now with him being . . . nice, I trust him even less." Flanna grabs the soft, muddy-brown suede draped over my shoulders and pulls me closer. "Now, hold still so I can finish this."
I roll my eyes and suck in a breath. I don't think I can handle another needle prick; I already have dried blood spots sprinkled over my shoulders.
"Flanna?" I watch her slide the pointed wood dangerously close to my skin.
"Kate?" she says in her usual sarcastic way, the one I've missed since Lann died. Prophecies or no prophecies, most people are still clueless as to their future, the fate of their friends, family, and loved ones. Flanna didn't have time to prepare for Lann's death, and his early end wasn't fair, but her panicky attempt at creating armor for me—when she is clearly not a dresser—makes me wonder what she does know.
"What are you hiding from me?"
Flanna growls.
"You seem so nervous about my safety all of a sudden. I mean with the armor, and never leaving my side, and—"
She shakes her head. "You—"
Wouldn't you all kill me if that was it?
Anyhoo, Clinic Guests, what did that first page do for you? Now, you have to remember this is the third in a series. I have a bit more room to move on with the story, but if you read the first page of the first novel in this series, you'll know that moving forward quickly--sucking the reader right in--is the best thing to do. And what better way to end a first page than with a big question?
I want you to get out there and WOW your readers!
<3 Krystal
Some of you are here because you're dying to quench your growing thirst for a glimpse into Wilde's Meadow, the third and final book in my Darkness Falls series. And some of you are here because you're part of the Curiosity Quills Haunted Writing Clinic and Contest.
I'm here because . . . ahh, well, I have what everyone's looking for.
So, to keep the rambling short, and to give you all what you desire, I'll shut up and get to pasting!
Enjoy!
(Clinic guests, please stay tuned after the first page!)
DISCLAIMER: IF YOU HAVE NOT YET READ WILDE'S FIRE OR ARMY--AND PLAN TO--PLEASE, DO NOT READ THIS TEASER!
Chapter One"You let that greasy pig off too easily," Flanna mumbles, holding a sharp, wooden needle between her lips.
I glance down at the top of her red head. "If it weren't for that greasy pig, you wouldn't be sewing this ridiculous looking costume on me right now."
She removes the torture device from her mouth and glares at me, narrowing her brilliant blue eyes. "This is not a costume, and it is not ridiculous. You already died once. Next time you may not be as lucky."
Three days have passed since Arland and I committed our lives to each other, to these people and world—uniting everyone in the process—and as much as things have changed, a few of my friends still have issues getting over misunderstandings from a long time ago.
"Flanna, I know what happened to your mom, and I know you blame Dufaigh, but he is trying to be good." I jump from the creaking stool she has me standing on like an abused model, then take her hand in mine. "He's brought leather and metal for you to make armor for me, like you so oddly requested. He hasn't threatened to kill anyone, he hasn't argued, he hasn't done anything that should make us think otherwise."
She huffs, blowing hair from her face. "I know. I believe that is my problem. I have never trusted him, but now with him being . . . nice, I trust him even less." Flanna grabs the soft, muddy-brown suede draped over my shoulders and pulls me closer. "Now, hold still so I can finish this."
I roll my eyes and suck in a breath. I don't think I can handle another needle prick; I already have dried blood spots sprinkled over my shoulders.
"Flanna?" I watch her slide the pointed wood dangerously close to my skin.
"Kate?" she says in her usual sarcastic way, the one I've missed since Lann died. Prophecies or no prophecies, most people are still clueless as to their future, the fate of their friends, family, and loved ones. Flanna didn't have time to prepare for Lann's death, and his early end wasn't fair, but her panicky attempt at creating armor for me—when she is clearly not a dresser—makes me wonder what she does know.
"What are you hiding from me?"
Flanna growls.
"You seem so nervous about my safety all of a sudden. I mean with the armor, and never leaving my side, and—"
She shakes her head. "You—"
THE END! :-)
Wouldn't you all kill me if that was it?
Anyhoo, Clinic Guests, what did that first page do for you? Now, you have to remember this is the third in a series. I have a bit more room to move on with the story, but if you read the first page of the first novel in this series, you'll know that moving forward quickly--sucking the reader right in--is the best thing to do. And what better way to end a first page than with a big question?
I want you to get out there and WOW your readers!
<3 Krystal
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