Snippet Sunday

I’m taking a break from Tolari Space and writing a straight-up first contact story. Here’s a taste from the first draft:


“Jeth,” Ull said. “Water.” He loosened the tie on the waterskin and poured a little onto his hand to show her what it was, and then took a drink.

She reached for it when he offered the skin to her, and drank greedily. After she handed the skin back, she lay back in the moss—with her back on the ground—and looked up into the sky. And jolted up onto her elbows, gasping. Ull followed her gaze. The half-moon, no longer on fire, had just risen—with a dark smudge it had never had before, like an eye along its rim. Jeth uttered a little groan, and her eyes glistened.

Snippet Sunday

Has it already been a week?

It has! Here’s a bit from the Kepler story:


“I surrender to you,” he said, carefully, because those little ears did not look any better than the tiny eyes did. Still, they had seen him, so they were not like the plains stalkers, which could not see a person if they did not move. He opened his eyes wide, to show respect. “I surrender to you.”

The ugly, two-legged forerunner showed him her hands with their extra fingers and said, as carefully as he had, “I surrender to you.”

Ull blinked.

 

Snippet Sunday!

Gosh, it’s been a while since I posted a snippet from a work in progress! 

Astute readers of Farryn’s War may have noticed that there seemed to be one more human on Tolar than could be accounted for.  Here is a bit of her story, which takes place in between The Marann and The Fall. The working title is… Stranded.  Tell me what you think:


Alexia groaned at the pounding in her head. I should not have drunk so much champagne at the ball. She wrapped her arms around her head and curled up on her side.

She froze. On her side? Gravity? The lifeboat. She sat up and threw her arms out as the world spun.

“Hold on,” said a woman’s voice, in English. A hand took her arm. “Take it easy.”

The room steadied, and Alexia blinked up at a woman with startling blue eyes and very long, wavy brown hair. She wore a simple blue robe with white embroidery at the collar and cuffs, and she smiled down with an amused expression on her face.

She was pretty enough. Alexia looked closer. Freckles! What sort of woman allowed herself to sprout freckles?

Not one Mamá would allow her to associate with. She jerked her arm away.

“Feeling better?” the woman asked, one eyebrow lifted.

“No.” Alexia frowned. The fierce pounding in her head put a hair trigger on a temper which, her dueña loved to remind her, was already too easy to set off. “Where am I? I was in a lifeboat–” she swallowed “–freezing to death. Who are you?”

“Oh! I’m sorry, introductions are in order. I’m Marianne Woolsey. You’re in the stronghold of the province of Suralia on the fourth planet of Beta Hydri. And you are…?”

Alexia rubbed her forehead. “Beta Hydri? We should not have been near Beta Hydri.”

“And you are…?”

“Alexia Victoria de la Cerda y Aragon.”

“Welcome to Tolar. May I call you Alexia?”