This book is taking soooo long.
It's bad when readers say that, but I feel it's worse when the author says that.
Brain: I have other things to write ya know.
Me: Yeah, totally, but like, I only have an hour to write everyday.
Me: Yes. Bills are bullshit.
Brain: Throw everything in the fire. Let's write!
Me: Want some food?
So, what's going on? Why is it taking me so long?
I've created worlds before, but this one is very interwoven. The things I've learned are meeting my wild imagination and like a morning glory against a brick wall, the world story is unfolding with every sentence. It's massive. I write things down. I have to make sure I'm not contradicting the original story, I'm finding ways to connect the dots all while thinking, what does the read need to know?
Or, in other words, I'm having too much fun with this story.
Authors get enamored with their stories. I've been writing PYROMAGE (working title) off and on for a while now. I wrote HANDLE WITH CARE and THE SILENT ROAD between it. Every time I see the end, I think of something wrong with a situation. I like for my stories to be able to suspend readers belief and the only way I can do that is with science.
Even magic has to have rules.
So, I work on it everyday, but it's a slow process. One that is worth it for me.
I've got another excerpt for ya...
As usual mistakes are my own.
This isn't edited.
Everyone's a critic and going to email me why I'm a horrible this that and the other. I don't care. Blah, Blah, Blah...
Just know this. It's still copyright.
Excerpt from WIP title: Pyromage
No part of this story may be reproduced or transmitted without written prior permission from the publisher. This is a work of fiction. All characters, names, events, incidents and places are of the author’s imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.
This is a totally unedited chapter. It may or may not stay the same after final edits and it may or may not remain in the story.
If you find any grammar, spelling or punctuation errors, please let know via the comments!! I may not get to them right away, but I will get to them. Thank you!
If you are totally lost & would like to start at the beginning of (working title) PYROMAGE, click the button below.
WARNING! PYROMAGE IS PART OF THE DARK HEART HEROES LINE AND CONTAINS NON-CONVENTIONAL RELATIONSHIPS BETWEEN MEN.
Confusion spun my head into muddled thoughts and throwing emotion in the mix that summed up this whole situation in one-word. “Idiot.”
The lug of a Chintan bodyguard didn’t give me answers. But he was the perfect companion among the sheep. Even after saving everyone from drowning, my herd watching shift wasn’t over.
We kept vigil at the grotto’s entrance, dangling our feet over the opening’s ledge, watching the waves, searching for a miffed Hydragon. He was out there, probably plotting our demise. The Chintan didn’t seem to wonder how long he’d been out there. Or why Aleenia hadn’t told anyone about the other dragon.
“She didn’t seem to think he was the one Elddyn was talking about,” I said out loud but didn’t expect an answer. I dared not speak my concern. That maybe Aleenia kept us away from the one Elddyn foretold. The dragon that would, successfully, lead the drake’s home.
Maybe she didn’t want to be alone. Perhaps she knew he wasn’t the one. Or maybe she had another reason to reject him.
My Chintan laid his metal fingers on the back of my hand.
I jerked out of my thoughts, scanning the sea. “Do you see him?”
The Chintan cupped my face, turning my head towards him. He then placed the palm of his right hand over the back of his left digits, making the sign for Terragon.
“What about her?” I looked to Aleenia. She slept. Her breaths deep and slow sending a waxing and waning breeze through the grotto like an ocean tide.
He put both hands over his heart then brought them over to me as if holding water in his hands. Love.
“Aleenia loves us.” I nodded. “But what if…” I whispered.
The Chintan brought both hands up as a whole, inverting his palms down. Hoard. Love and hoard were the same gesture, only backwards.
“Yes.” I glanced nervous at her long neck form. “And it’s rude to talk about it.”
Thinking and speaking were not the same no matter what he insinuated. “I wasn’t talking about it.”
He shook his head. The metal mask looking less angry and more desperately gloomy these past three days. The cloak on his back played with the breeze. It’s red luster soaked in the sun giving the fabric a velvet appearance.
I scooted closer and leaned into him. “She said Elddyn didn’t choose him.”
“What if he isn’t? It doesn’t make his argument less true.” Vanfald walked up from the connecting cavern. “Shouldn’t we send word to Elddyn?” She stepped over to Aleenia and brushed a hand over the grand one’s jowl.
“How logical of you.” I twisted around and stood.
“As the servant of Air, one might assume you’d already thought of it.” She skated around the walls as the Earth Chintan stalked over to his brother.
Vanfald liked to dress suggestively female. Blond hair spilled out from a cowl shielding her face. The princess cut of her dress exposed her legs at the thigh. Water curled around her waist like a tail, whipping back and forth as if I were a bothersome fly. Her power over the element was indeed impressive, but she waved her rule over Water too often to make me believed she had any more skill than parlor tricks. Elddyn hadn’t needed to prove his mastery over his element.
“As soon as his ship arrives, I’ll send word.”
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