What are you Writing? (Sunday Fiction Post-up: Vol. 21)

North of the Caves of Etamin where the white dragons lay

North of the Caves of Etamin where the white dragons lay

Time for the Sunday Fiction Post-up! Come share your current work-in-progress here. I hope everyone had an amazing 4th of July. I actually wrote a phenomenal amount of words for myself, 1800! My hands were possessed by inspiration, I suppose. Let’s hope for more of that today 🙂

I invite you to post your title, genre/sub-genre and about 100-150 words starting on the third paragraph of page 23. I know I have a few non-writers, so you may also post an excerpt from your current blog post-in-progress. No need for critique, just a little writer love.

Here’s mine :

“Are you okay?” Jamari whispers when the captain turns and references the screen.

I am in control at all times—right now, I’m not. Everything about Ryu shouts restlessness, chaos and defiance. The worst part is when I’m near him those qualities bleed into me. And I’m afraid my insolent actions during the field exercise this morning won’t be my last. My eyes drift to him. He still doesn’t seem to be paying attention to the lecture anymore than me.

“Fine,” I whisper back. Skinny Boy shifts around in his seat, I’m not sure if he’s annoyed or afraid of getting caught. The stern woman at the lectern would punish the entire class for one recruit’s outburst. Why not make the whole Dragonology class hate me—I’m on a roll today. Jamari studies me for a second then leans back in her chair until the end of the lecture. I hate that she knows my weaknesses, I’ve let few people in. To everyone else I am a soldier. Jamari is the only person who knows the real Kaliyah, a teenage girl.

Have a great Sunday! And Write on!

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2 Responses to What are you Writing? (Sunday Fiction Post-up: Vol. 21)

  1. Glad to hear you’re inspired! Ryu sounds very intriguing, I already want to get to know him more.

    Here’s from my as yet untitled fantasy novel:

    “You think I don’t know who you are,” she hisses. “I know who you are, Caliph Lio. You make your money with blood and sweat. Your allies are pirates, merchants, laborers. You win your duels because you fight dirty, and your sword is for sale to the highest bidder.”

    The room is slowly becoming colder, much colder than the desert night settled around us. The wall behind her glistens with the sheen of black ice, spreading unevenly from my fingers.

    “You don’t belong in the Aristocracy,” she says. “You belong with the thieves and the whores and the—”

    I push her up against the ice, and she lets forth a short gasp. The skin of her bare shoulder is hot beneath my palm.

    “You’re so cold,” she says. She presses a hand to the wall behind her, and pulls it away to stare at her glistening fingertips.

    “Not you,” I whisper. “You burn like the sun. My queen.”

    “I’m not yours.”

    Liked by 3 people

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