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| Author: |
Liz Albl |
| Dated: |
Friday, July 16 2010 @ 04:34 PM EDT |
| Viewed: |
117 times |
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Emily's eyes widened and her body straightened. “Yes of course!” she whispered.
Finnegan groaned and rolled over. Emily silently slipped out of bed and down the hall toward her pile of books on the depot. She turned on a soft lamp and began to read.
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| Author: |
Lynda Williams |
| Dated: |
Thursday, April 22 2010 @ 07:00 AM EDT |
| Viewed: |
181 times |
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Chapter 1: The Green Woman
A man stood over a vile smelling pot on a stone-ringed fire, his work overlooked by the shadows of large, trembling leaves. The concoction he was staring into spat and bubbled which was causing him concern. He took a pinch of powder from a pocket of his worn but stylish jacket and dribbled it into the dirty yellow mixture with an air of hopeful expectation on his young and inquisitive features. When nothing appeared to be happening he turned half his attention to the open book set up on a pile of rocks beside him, which was precisely when something did happen. Very suddenly.
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| Author: |
Lynda Williams |
| Dated: |
Thursday, December 10 2009 @ 02:00 PM EST |
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429 times |
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The Okal Rel Saga is a ten-novel SF series by Lynda Williams, published by Edge Science Fiction and Fantasy. Part 6: Avim's Oath will be out in April 2009. I am currently working on Part 8: Gathering Storm in which the cultural exchange referred to below is taking place. The excerpt below is a draft vignette probably written circum 2003 which didn't find its way into the novel-in-progress. But I've been encouraged to believe that "off stage" glimpses of the characters that don't appear in printed publication will interest some followers of the series. So I thought I would try sharing some through Scroll in Space.
"And which one of them -- " Perry said, casting the pronoun to denote a pair of Purebloods, "-- had this particular bright idea?"
Not a promising start, thought Amel, standing in his flight leathers on the other side of her desk. He suspected he ought to say something encouraging. “Um, well,” was all he actually said.
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From Both Sides of the River
by Charlie Anne Cutter Mikkelsen
There are two ways to be fooled. One is to believe what isn’t true; the other is to refuse to believe what is true. --- Soren Kierkegaard
Prologue
Fact or Fiction
THE COOKING SEASON of 1980 in Provence was the ecstatic moment of her life. After years of raising children and suffering extraordinary grief, Mary Helen had, at last, transformed herself. She had just completed another term as American assistant to the revered cooking icon, Simone “Simca” Beck at her school of French cookery in the South of France. Mary Helen was euphoric, dreaming of many more seasons in the lavender drenched countryside.
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| Author: |
doris ray |
| Dated: |
Sunday, May 10 2009 @ 08:30 AM EDT |
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690 times |
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PROLOGUE FOR “COMMON THREADS” (A Fictionalised Biography)
When I was about twelve and my brother ten we asked our mother whether she’d ever learned anything at all about her father; what country he was from and how and when he died. Mom had been regaling us with tales about her childhood in a Victoria, BC, orphanage where she and her sister were taken in 1918, when she was five-and-a-half and our Auntie Rose* (not her real name) was almost three.
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| Author: |
Brenda Clotildes |
| Dated: |
Tuesday, July 03 2007 @ 04:20 PM EDT |
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1445 times |
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Alex sat back on his heels and brushed sweat off his forehead with the back of his wrist.
“Well,” he said, “just like the others.”
“Can you tell if it's the same poacher?” I asked. I was hunkered down beside him. As gruesome as the sight and smell was, it was no where near as bad as the other carcass we'd found in the crevasse. This body had been left unhidden, and while there were plenty of flies about, at least we were in the open air.
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| Author: |
Brenda Clotildes |
| Dated: |
Sunday, January 14 2007 @ 06:00 AM EST |
| Viewed: |
1512 times |
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| I took a deep breath and opened the door. Alex stood on the step, dressed in a crisp white shirt that emphasized his tan and neatly pressed black trousers. His eyes widened as his gaze traveled up and down my body.
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| Author: |
Brenda Clotildes |
| Dated: |
Friday, October 27 2006 @ 10:15 AM EDT |
| Viewed: |
1157 times |
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| I lay stunned, sprawled on my stomach on the gritty pavement. Dynamic oil swirls behind my eyelids dimmed in intensity as the motorcycle rolled slowly between me and the setting sun. I could hear the crunch of its tires on the pavement and feel the heat of its engine. I struggled to draw my knees underneath me, preparing the rise. The rumble of the idling engine grew to a roar, and the cycle took off in a rush.
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| Author: |
Brenda Clotildes |
| Dated: |
Tuesday, August 22 2006 @ 10:04 AM EDT |
| Viewed: |
1187 times |
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| Early Sunday afternoon I unlocked my front door and stepped into the living room. The television was on, but muted - frantic game show contestants were cheering in blessed silence. A pizza box sprawled greasily on the low coffee table, guarded by beer bottles standing like sentinels at the grave. A couple of houseflies crawled on the remains - two cold, varnished-looking triangles pocked with olives and a pile of crusts. The hair on my neck stood up. Thank God there were only two. Discarded newspapers lay scattered on the scarred wooden floor.
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