1/11/2025

Danger, Fire and Redemption #wewriwa

 

Welcome to Weekend Writing Warriors, the weekly hop for everyone who loves to write ... and read. From Fire and Redemption, Book 2 of the  fantasy series, The Tear Stone Collectors. This week's snippet continues, Help Summoned. To set the scene, sickness has struck the caravan. Karst has been watching Brial, who has been exposed more than anyone else. Not only is she driving a wagon where nursing is going on within it, but she has helped nursed all her kin. And now the SundaySnippet.

Excerpt: 

A kick sent Feldt's mount galloping past one slow-moving wagon after another to wheel beside Brial. The horse walked slowly, keeping pace with the wagon. The words Feldt spoke were unintelligible, but the shake of Brial’s head told of her rejection of whatever her grandfather had said.

The argument carried on for several minutes before Feldt stepped down from the saddle. No sooner had his feet touched the ground than Brial stumbled, falling to her knees. Dragged along, the force of the movement tore her hands from the harness.

“No!” Throat muscles spasmed with the force of the scream. Even though Karst knew he could not reach her in time, he had to try to save her. His body refused demands to race to Brial. He couldn’t move. 


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Available in Ebook or Paperback at Amazon
Additional sites at Books2Read


I hope you like the snippet. Be sure to read the other Weekend Writing Warriors blogs and the #SnippetSunday authors for more great reads.

~till next time, Helen









1/04/2025

Help Summoned, Fire and Redemption #wewriwa

 

 

Welcome to Weekend Writing Warriors, the weekly hop for everyone who loves to write ... and read. From Fire and Redemption, Book 2 of the  fantasy series, The Tear Stone Collectors. This week's snippet continues, Sickness In The Camp. To set the scene, sickness has struck the caravan. Karst has been watching Brial, who has been exposed more than anyone else. Not only is she driving a wagon where nursing is going on within it, but she has helped nursed all her kin. And now the SundaySnippet.

Excerpt: 

Different responses raced through Karst’s mind. He didn’t want to raise a false alarm but needed Feldt’s help. “I have not kissed her forehead like the gray-haired ones do to test the heat, but Brial has stumbled several times. She is shuffling and leans on the hauler beasts to stay upright.” He paused to control his growing terror. “Tywyll and I are afraid she will fall under the hauler’s hooves or be run over by the wagons.”

Feldt stayed silent so long Karst thought he had overplayed his hand. “The evening air has a chill to it. My granddaughter does seem more flushed than called for. You were right to call me, Karst. She will not leave her post unless I order her to. Wait here. I will talk to her.”


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Available in Ebook or Paperback at Amazon
Additional sites at Books2Read


I hope you like the snippet. Be sure to read the other #SnippetSunday authors for more great reads.

~till next time, Helen








11/27/2024

Searching for Holiday Spirit

Now that we are in the midst of the holiday season, thoughts sometimes turn to earlier times. Although the memories were sometimes clouded with time or seen through rose-colored glasses, some remained bright and vibrant. A tale of an unexpected reward for a duty performed out of necessity and which became the basis for a story was one such memory. The Thanksgiving tale of a family gathering was later accepted for A Yuletide Wish - Poems and Stories for the Extended Holiday Season.

If you're looking for an an uplifting offering of good-news, happy-ending set of stories by established authors from around the globe, the link is at the bottom. 

Excerpt:

The smell of turkey permeated the kitchen as Claire peeled potatoes for Thanksgiving dinner. Finally, she thought, this will be my year. She hummed her favorite carol as she pictured herself in her new black velvet dress sitting at the adult table for the holidays.

The tune stopped mid-note as her mother walked in, phone in hand. Claire knew her mother's look meant bad news. "Please let me move up this year," the fourteen-year old whispered under her breath.

"Claire, go down to the cellar and bring up some more potatoes. Cousins Mike and Irene from western Pennsylvania decided to spend their anniversary in New York City, so I invited them to Thanksgiving dinner here."

Stifling a moan, Claire managed to ask," How many, Mom?"

"Four. Mike and Irene, Billy is ten and the baby is 18 months." Seeing the look on her daughter's face she continued, "I'm sorry, hon. I know you had hoped to sit at the big table, but I need you to help me out and be hostess at the children's table. Maybe next year."

This was my one time to sit with the grown-ups, Claire fumed. Now I don't know when I'll be able to sit there. The family's grown so much; we can barely crowd enough chairs around the table now. I don’t' want to wait until I'm old. I don't want anyone to die, or anything bad to happen. But I really wanted to sit with the adults this year. She had been so hopeful. Her aunt planned to visit an old friend in Texas so there would be an empty spot at the adult's table.

It was only for this one time, but as the oldest at the children's table, Claire would move up and sit in the elderly aunt's spot.

Fighting back her disappointment, Claire asked. "Do you want me to take care of the baby?"

"That would be great," came the answer she dreaded. "I know Irene would appreciate the break."

In the bustle of helping prepare dinner for 30 people, Claire didn't have time to dwell on her disappointment. Her mother watched as Claire went about stirring the various pots boiling on the stove and basting the large turkey. Then smiled as Claire started humming the holiday tunes along with the old black radio on the windowsill.

As the men moved the heavy wooden picnic table into the kitchen, Claire's mood darkened. Her humming stopped. She loved the summer picnic table. For barbeque get-togethers with friends, it sagged in the middle with roasted corn and watermelon. But Claire hated the winter table used to sit all the "children." To her, the contrast between the detailed carved legs of the family's large oak table and the drab rough pine planks of the picnic one was just another way she didn't fit. She wasn't a child, but not an adult either.

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You'll have to get the anthology to learn Claire's reward for being a dutiful daughter.

For myself, while I don't want to return to the girl who wanted to be an adult and found that meant being the hostess at the children's table, I plan to read the book again. In these hectic times, there are never enough happy-endings.

A Yuletide Wish - Available at Amazon.com