That was a fairly successful night. I added a more hooky beginning, and then revised the first scene I wrote last week, which seemed to be in fairly good shape.
Bryon’s also been kind enough to download my Vesterheim pictures, so I’ll start getting those cataloged and organized shortly.
Onward with a word count meter, and then…a snippet!
11178 / 90000 words. 12% done!
Nick snapped his black whip. His eyes flashed red, and he smiled toothily. The massive horses pulling his wagon were the fastest on and off earth. He wasn’t worried about being caught, but certainly, it would be worth the amusement factor to slow down, and let his pursuer think he had a chance.
He glanced behind him. Rattling about in the back, a wicker basket bounced off the floor. Its contents would stay safe because his magic would keep it so. Over the top of the cart, barely visible in the mist, he could see the sole rider, the most persistent of Feldspar’s loyal minions. Give me the precious cargo, he would say, or something equally cliche. Nick loved that you could count on the heroes and villains to react as expected. Thinking outside the box? Reserved, it seemed, for only an annoying few.
An armored war horse pulled alongside the wagon. The faerie that road him was obsidian black, with gold veins rivering his visible face and arms. “Stop!” he yelled over pounding hoofbeats. “Stop in the name of the king!”
Nick smiled broadly. “I wouldn’t stop for the highest king. Why would I stop for yours?”