All posts filed under: Shadow Dawn Updates & Extracts

Dockside

“You’re a villain Danny, plain and simple.” Danny’s grin spread as he watched Stephanie nod in agreement to her own words and pluck an apple from the open crate next to her on the dock, juice spitting from the skin as her teeth crunched in. “You wouldn’t have called me that three years ago,” he said, his mind wandering back to the image of her sprawled across his cabin desk, her scars and marking open to him, her cheeks flushed by the kisses he pressed into her curves. Stephanie examined what was left of her apple, scowled, and chucked it into one of the empty slips. “Three years ago we were on the same side,” she said, “but you changed that Danny, not me.” It’s been ages since I’ve written anything for Five Sentence Fiction, but I felt in the mood for it today. Probably because I should be doing other things, and partly because I’m trying to make sure I write at least a small paragraph for Darkened Daughter every day at the moment. …

Family Traits

I have really long, slightly bent fingers. According to certain family members, this is a Swinnerton trait. My sister on the other hand, hehe, pun not intended but anyway, has hands from my dad’s side of the family. She is Forrester hands. This means one thumb stubbier than the other (not that you can be sure with my dad since he chopped the end of one off) and a middle finger the same length as the two beside it. She’s lucky. Some of dad’s relatives have this on both hands and on both feet aswell. I have it sort of, but only on one of my toes. I posted this photo on facebook yesterday, and one of my friends commented that despite knowing me for quite a while she’d never realised how long my fingers were. It started me thinking about how much of our family we carry around in ourselves that our friends put catagories as ‘us’. A five foot nothing I take after my Granny Kitty more than my mother. Yet every time …

Darkened Daughter Extract – Rickets Den

You did not got to the Purple Pig to drink. You went there for whores and information. Before the new King’s reign Molly’s tavern had been one of the most successful in Dondara. Now it was nothing more than a crooked sign and a few worm eaten tables crammed into the darkness. “Are you sure we’ve got the right place?” Mole kept close as his Captain hurried down the city streets towards Rickets Den. Behind them the stone houses of the wealthy seemed to glow softly in the moonlight, oil lamps dotted along the cobbled streets to ward off the shadows.  Rickets Den on the other hand was a mass of shadows, curling and twisting around the wooden buildings which tumbled into one another and disappeared into the depths of the old mining pits. Mole wasn’t a brave man. He was really quite timid by all accounts with a thin reedy voice and a thick, short stature that left many confusing him with a child. Danny found him useful for sneaking into tight spaces but …

A Friday Freewrite – Obscurite Extract

Battle Plans It was cold on the Witch Moors. Wind seemed to sweep in from every direction, cutting through the canvas tents and chilling Tara to the core. She pulled the wool cloak tighter around her shoulders and jammed her chin into her chest to keep her teeth from rattling out of her jaw. She tried to focus on Mormonth and Ilia, their heads bowed together as they plotted out the best way to steal into the Grey Castle break Lord Turnkay’s defence from behind. Curse the Lords and their stupid taxes Tara thought. Could her father have not waited until summer and then sent his armies to demand dues owed by the Northern territories? Why did he have to send her, and why now of all times? “Milady?” Ilia was looking at her now, forehead creasing with concern. “Milday, are you quite well?” Tara shook her head and wished again that they could have built a fire. They had three hundred men with them, all of which lay shivering among the ferns waiting for …

Shadow Twists

When the night demons come she keeps quiet, tries to sink into the dark drapes around her father’s throne and pretend they don’t see her. It’s stupid of course. She watches as their ivory eyes flicker back and forth, catching in her own gaze momentarily and sending familiar tendrils of cold seeping through her chest. She almost fainted the first time it happened. Her! Of all people! She was used to being summoned at strange hours, slipping through the castle corridors as moonlight painted the stones with looming shapes. Her father warned her to stay close. “Don’t speak,” he said.

Forest Of Obscurite

The Forest Of Obscurite was dark. Not just dim, or a little gloomy, but dark. Swallowing her pride Tara allowed for Greth to lead the way and kept close, doing her best to stay in the puddle of light from his torch. “Watch your footing,” he’d warned her. “Nothing like this bitch to send you down cliffs you wouldn’t even know existed till you’re fallin’. She’s a clever one.” “She?” Tara asked, crouching next to him as he’d checked the horses were tied up properly. “She,” he’d nodded, checks finished. “You act like it’s a person.” “Who said it’s not?”

Alley Blades

Tara twisted, her attackers blade catching her across the hip as the confines of the alley forced her against a wall. She dropped, doing a better job of dodging the next blade as it swung overhead and crashed into stone. “Stay still you little—” the rest of Eton Smites’ words dissolved into a wet gurgle, blood bubbling up between his lips and running down the front of his armour. He stumbled, slumping sideways as Tara moved back, one dagger still aimed towards him as she plucked at the clothing over her hip. It ached and blood eased from the slice in her flesh but it wouldn’t kill her, whatever Smites’ had slipped into her drink might though.