because, as Elizabeth Mueller says, "Rules are meant to be broken." and she's hosting a blogfest for that very reason. so i decided (again, at the last minute) to participate.
i use a lot of dreams in Blackheart. i've heard over and over that that's a no-n0. i also use a lot of one line paragraphs (i don't know if that's breaking the rules or not, but whatever). one more thing - this scene is my main character waking up with amnesia, so i don't use her name, but that's intentional.
this is still 2nd draft material, so forgive the typos and things that aren't capitalized as they should be.
A dark warrior on a gray horse. He’s going to kill me.
A man running to a woman’s defense.
Smoke filling her lungs. I can’t breathe.
A young man running through the forest, terror on his face.
A book with a map carved into the wooden cover. it’s beautiful.
A man with dark hair. He’s smiling at me. this is my wedding day.
An old woman with white hair, saying something. “Hazmalam’a dejki. Nemoshk’a arabez. Seham’a gurimar. zarafesh.” I don’t understand.
A pleasant voice. my groom wants me to come back.
Her eyes fluttered open.
The room was dark. It smelled musty.
Where am i?
She was thirsty. She put her hand to her throat. Her nightgown was soaked with sweat.
Why am I in bed?
She tried to sit up. her pounding head made it almost impossible. she ignored the pain and willed herself to sit. The room began to spin and she lay back down.
What’s wrong with me?
She tried to call out. it was the voice of a child, small and weak.
She tried again. no one answered. Was it nighttime? Was everyone asleep? Her stomach growled. When was the last time she’d eaten?
She closed her eyes and tried to remember what had happened. all she could recall was having strange dreams. She didn’t know if that was normal for her.
A door opened.
A man’s voice, deep and rich. The voice from her dream. Her heart reacted instantly to their connection. was this her husband?
She heard the striking of a tinderbox and then a lantern sprung to life. The man set it next to the bed. As he stood over her, light and shadow played over a handsome face. now she really hoped he was her husband.
dark brown hair fell across his forehead and covered his ears. a thin line of whiskers started under his almost perfect nose, went around his full lips, and came together on his square chin. his eyes were dark. were they brown or black? She couldn’t tell in this light. for a few moments, he just stared at her with an intensity that made her shiver.
‘you’re awake,’ he said.
he smiled, but it was a tired smile. Still, it made the skin around his eyes crinkle and she noted slight dimples. For a moment, he looked like a boy – a boy she remembered. then it was gone. so serious. Who was he?
‘where am I?’ she finally said.
He sat in a chair beside the bed. ‘your mother’s house.’
he took her hand. his hand was warm and strong. dark hair was sprinkled across the back of it and up his arm. his fingers were rough and calloused. She felt safe with him.
‘we’ve all been concerned about you, but Jessa especially.’
His eyes widened. They were brown, almost black. ‘she’s your daughter.’
‘I have a daughter?’
‘yes, Tiana. a daughter and two grand daughters.’
A daughter. She was married. Then he was her husband.
‘my name is Tiana?’ it was a beautiful name. feminine. Lyrical.
‘yes. do you remember anything? Stefan’s wedding? Dorinda?’
‘no. nothing.’ He frowned. She was disappointed. She liked his smile. ‘have I been sleeping?’
‘ever since you fainted.’
‘and who are you?’
Finally a name she recognized.
‘help me sit up,’ she said.
he put his hands behind her back. his breath was warm on her face. she glanced at his lips. were they soft or rough? She wanted to know. since he was her husband, kissing him would be natural. She put her hands behind his neck and pulled him close.
The hair on his face tickled. His lips were warm and alive, and soft. very soft. At first he resisted, but then their mouths moved together, playing, teasing, tongues darting back and forth. Something on her chest warmed. A flicker of blue light caught her eye, then vanished.
Arathor wrapped his arms around her and tipped his head. She dug her fingers into his hair and brought him as close as possible. lost in the sensations his lips brought, she barely heard herself whimpering. The noises he made sounded just as helpless.
This was wonderful. She didn’t want it to end.
The door opened. A woman chuckled. ‘I didn’t mean to interrupt.’
Arathor pulled out of Tiana’s embrace and cleared his throat. Was he embarrassed? Should she feel embarrassed? She didn’t think so. it was obvious that she and her husband had a passionate marriage. the intruder should have knocked. Instead of leaving, she came closer and gave Tiana an amused glance.
‘mother, I’m glad to see you’re awake… and apparently feeling better.’
on another note, if you like blogfests, i'm hosting a Share Your Darlings Blogfest on July 1st. i'd love to have you participate.
welcome to my blog
welcome to my blog
i'm Michelle Gregory, a 55-year-old wife, mom, Jesus-follower, beginning French learner, and Arizona native who moved to Montana 6 years ago (yeah--that was a huge change). i collect way too many craft supplies (and occasionally use them), spend way too much time on Instagram and Facebook, obsessively check my email, and own 2 horses, 2 dogs, and 1 very large black cat. i've been working on the sequel to my one fantasy novel for 9 years (don't you feel better now?). i haven't done anything here for a long time, but maybe jumping back into blogging will get the writer side of my brain humming again.
all of that may be more than you wanted to know, but anyway...