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Date Posted: 15:15:22 06/30/09 Tue
Author: Esther
Subject: Okay, a multi purpose post

To save space and not be a board hog, I’m going to post the different items in their own reply. Read at your leisure.

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[> Let’s talk goals shall we? >>> -- Esther, 15:19:40 06/30/09 Tue

Since it’s the end of the month, it’s probably a good a time as any to do this. Thanks to Larn’s gauntlet a few of us have decided to get our act together and focus on finishing a project. Yay!

But there might be other goals out there. So I’m implementing the long ago tradition of the monthly goal post. A simple post where we discuss our goals, accomplishments and frustrations as a way to stay on target. I view it as a way to be held accountable. It’s easy to say that today I’m going to do this, but at the end of the day if there isn’t anyone around to ask or care how it went it’s easy to shrug it off with a simple excuse of life and forget it. Just ask me, cause I’m speaking from experience. *G* And it’s a way to motivate ourselves as we realize that what we want is achievable if we break it down into realistic steps. And we all wouldn’t mind writing a bit more, right? Right.

So, how about it? Anyone game? I guess we’ll see, eh? Feel free to add your goals to this post if you want to play. *G*

First off, I should say that I don’t believe goals are written in stone and unable to be changed. I mean, for me, what I want to do at the end of the day is be able to look in the mirror and be able to say to myself, that yup today I did the best I could. That is my first, most important goal and it overrides all others when the need arises.

Second, I have never set writing goals for myself because I didn’t ever want to feel any pressure that I HAD to write, fearing that it would take the fun out of my little hobby. I didn’t want another deadline, another job that I would grow to hate because it was another responsibility that I assumed. Well…what a load of crap, eh? *G* Time has passed, circumstances have changed, life has provided me with some unpleasant lessons, and I still delight in the possibilities and opportunities that a blank page represents. A new world. A special person. A visit with a long-time friend. A challenge to make it all it can be and then some. Something you love to do is never a chore.

So time to get my head out of the sand and set some writing goals. And here they are for all their simplicity…


- To keep up on the board, to reply to the posts and do my part
- To spend a couple hours a day working on my craft, with the concentration being on Pander. Whether it be adding to the word count with the missing scenes, purging the rot, reading some of the multiple versions, or just pasting the individual scenes in the right spot in the final version, it needs to be done. And hey. It’s only a couple hours.
- To post at least one scene per month. Since today is my last chance for June, an excerpt will follow.

There. Not too bad. I can do this. *G*

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[> [> Goals? Aren't they those things on a football field? >>>> -- Page, 21:38:52 06/30/09 Tue

But seriously, folks. Way back in the distant past, or at least six months ago, I vowed to complete Carey On/The Rain Song/Whatever It Ends Up Being Called by my birthday. In January. This past January, to be precise. But, I had no one to hold me to it. So I'm going to count on y'all to hold me to my goals, or at least hector me about them if I waffle. Here's what I'm going to aim for:

*Keep in touch with this board, and with all of you. I know first-hand now what happens when I don't. I don't write.

*Work on something on my WIP at least once a day, and that does not include just reading it over. I must add to it, edit what I've written, or re-write things that don't work. No more slacking around.

*Come up with a bleedin' title.

So there they are! And I'm committed to sticking to them.

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[> [> [> LMAO! Too funny! Yup those things that are long, hard and needed to score. *G* >>> -- Esther, 10:16:34 07/02/09 Thu

Seriously. *G*

Okay.

Thanks for playing Page, and hey, we'll see how we do at the end of the month, eh? Cause you gotta know that I'm going to hold you to them.

Cheers

Esther

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[> Time to check in >>> -- Esther, 15:27:33 06/30/09 Tue

Okay, it’s been over a week since I’ve said I’m in. So time to check in and let you know how my week went.

It was absolutely fantastic! I can’t believe how good it felt to re-immerse myself in this story. And the most amazing part was that I’d read it and remember what my intention for that part was and what came next and even what music I was listening to as I wrote it originally. I had anticipated being lost, and instead, am pleasantly surprised that I could recall so much. And it was because I thought I’d be so out of it that I never got around to ever even considering that I’d finish it.

Of course, by starting to read some of the earlier versions, and even some of the later ones, well…I realize how much work I have ahead of me. But instead of dreading it, I’m looking forward to it. It’s like I found my friends all over again. So, not so much work, but a fun time to look forward to. Woo hoo!

But to be practical, I realize that those two hours will have to come at the end of the day. For a few reasons. One being that the kids are out of school, the DH is back in town and taking the summer off (unless he gets a call to cover for someone going on holidays like today, which left me in the lurch to go to work myself) and his presence puts a severe downer on my play time. The second reason is work itself, which never seems to stop. I haven’t had a real day off in three months, which I guess is to be expected if you’re self-employed, but still I’d love to be able to catch up enough to have a day just for myself. Heck, I’d be happy if I could get away with a 40 hour workweek instead of this 50-60. And then there is all the stuff going on around the ol’ homestead. The housework (cooking, cleaning, laundry), the garden, the pool (where is that gorgeous pool-man when you need him????), the yard-work (the two acres of grass to mow without a ride-on, the trimming, the weeding, the new flower garden I’m putting in, the preparation for the cement pad we are going to pour this month), the house renovations (the four windows we’re replacing (one of which is the first of the four 6x8 and is our trial one to see how badly the original was framed in, plus three smaller windows), the gutting of our main bathroom to replace the tub, sink and toilet, drywall, tile, etc. etc.), and the chicks we have that’ll need to be butchered at the beginning of August. All time consuming and so sometimes I wish we weren’t so much the DIY kind of people, but the DH is too old to change I guess. *G* Oh, and our tenant is moving out today, so the plan is spending the month of July making repairs, painting, and tidying up the yard and such as necessary.

But still, I’m excited cause I can do this. What’s another couple of hours at the end of the day? *G*

And so, my confession. I didn’t get to write anything last week but I did read a bit of my story, so instead of posting the last 500 or so words I wrote, I’m going to post the last 500 or so words I read. My warning - it’s not pleasant, so read at your own choice. Seriously.

This is part of Gareth’s history and incidentally Debi, this is the woman you mentioned. You’ll see what I mean.


Excerpt from working title ‘Pander’
by E. M. Sawatzky © 2001-2009 All rights reserved.
Posted for critiquing purposes only and does not constitute publication.


“You think me an animal?” For the first time, Gareth’s eyes left Trystan’s face and he looked over to his wife. Her wrists were tied together and bore deep rope burns, so deep the cord embedded in her flesh. That same rope, tossed without concern over a thick branch, twisted with purpose into an unforgivable knot. With a calculated amount of slack, the intent to pull her arms, in what he knew was an excruciating position, above her head. She was limp now, slumped forward, her weight dragging her downward, and her toes still didn’t touch the ground. In that quick glance, he took everything in.

If he hadn’t been so incensed, he would have been nauseous. As an insult, her hair was hacked off, shorn to the scalp in places, he could see enough of her shadowed profile to realize she was unrecognizable. Her face covered in oozing blisters of blackened flesh. Blood, sweat and soot further masked her identity. Other parts of her body had blisters from the touch of flame, but the concentration had been to her features as if her attacker couldn’t bear to see her while he inflicted other tortures on her.

Stripped of her dignity, her nakedness emphasized the brutality and her courage to endure. She had stab wounds, some shallow, and little more than scratches, others penetrating deeper into her flesh. In yet other places, he could see two slight incisions about an inch apart and the ragged wounds where the skin had been cut loose and ripped off between them. The stomach-churning aspect was this combination of horrors accounted for some of the blood pooled beneath her, but not all. It was a testament she was still alive.

“Still no manners?” Trystan taunted him, his voice arrogant and condescending. “I should have known better than to expect anything civilized from you. It does not matter if you tell me what your name is. I know who you are.”

Gareth’s gaze swept back to Trystan. In his fury, he did not hear Trystan’s words. His whole being filled with blood rage, the urge to seek retribution. His eyes narrowed, and his desires took him to the same level of insanity that looked back at him. His nostrils flared out as he breathed, scenting the putrid combination of fear and madness.

He took one step forward and Trystan followed his lead, the two of them circling each other in the clearing. Gareth recognized the abilities of the man before him in the quick assessment, the counter actions to his, and the intense concentration as Trystan sought the first sign of weakness, the perfect time to strike.

“Would the savage like to know what happened to his whore today?” Trystan goaded him with unmerciful glee, a sadistic curl to his lips expressing his amusement. “Would you like to know how she suffered while you looked for her? How she cried out for you when she couldn’t take the pain anymore?

“She begged me to stop. She pleaded with me to think of the baby she carried. Can you believe that?” Trystan scoffed, his tone changing to one of scorn. “She actually thought I’d show mercy and let another Indian bastard come into the world.”

Against his will, Gareth’s gaze went to her extended stomach swollen with their child. Thick clots trickled in globulous trails down her thighs, smearing the dried blood from the initial assault. Sickened by the thought of what she had gone through, of the loss she experienced before her torture began, he fell to his knees, and unable to prevent it, heaved up the contents of his stomach.

Tristan’s eyes took on a calculating gleam. “Oh. I’m sorry. Was it yours?”

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[> [> No, it's not pleasant, but it is necessary >>>> -- Page, 21:09:32 07/03/09 Fri

I remember a scene from Pander you posted before, where Gareth is battling with Trystan. Now I know why Gareth was so enraged. It's clear that this scene is what shapes Gareth's personality through the rest of the book. An experience like this one couldn't be hinted at in memories, or flashbacks -- it has to be written out and read in its entirety to understand Gareth's motivations later on. It's a very gripping scene, and you didn't shy away from had to be described. Very good work, Esther!

Hugs,
Page

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[> [> [> I’d like to think so >>> -- Esther, 14:18:24 07/06/09 Mon

That scene dealt with the part where Gareth had an epiphany of sorts, but yup he was caught up in his memories and waging a war with Trystan from the inside out. He’s had several run ins with Trystan, but unfortunately because of his upbringing, he can’t just kill the man, as much as he wants to, and even now this event influences his choices and has been a great hindrance in the past. Now the funny thing. This _is_ a flashback. *G* Karma’s presence in his world has dredged up unpleasant memories. But no worries, because he has this flashback before the scene you mentioned so it’s all good. Thanks for clarifying this for me.

Hugs

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[> And the last one, promise. An excerpt is this way >>> -- Esther, 15:42:36 06/30/09 Tue

Okay, firstly, I don't expect a full crit as I know that we're all busy writing, soooooo...I'd just like to ask for some impressions if you wouldn't mind. This is the continuation of the homework I posted, and some of the comments, have got me pondering. So does this answer anything? Is he still unclear? Where does he lose you? This is the beginning, and I'd like to have this foundation be able to support the rest of it. Thanks!!!


Excerpt from working title ‘Pander’
by E. M. Sawatzky © 2001-2009 All rights reserved.
Posted for critiquing purposes only and does not constitute publication.


He smiled in triumph. “I’m bleeding again. We will rest together.”

Aggressive from purpose, she reversed their positions, attempting to snatch the material from his fingers to tie it back on. “What kind of an idiot are you? You value life too much to take your own.”

“You’re right. I didn’t plan to die this day.” Her aggravated sigh made his smile widen.

“Then let go.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Why?”

“I came to this place, a place that witnessed many significant times in my life, to seek a spirit. I have succeeded in my quest. And yet, despite your efforts, you have not.” He looked around the clearing and envisioned the phantoms of the past scheming in the mist. “You meant to die.”

She shook her head. “I was looking for peace.”

“Woman, there is no peace for us here.”

“There would be for me if I was alone.” Her gaze followed his earlier path. “It is beautiful here.”

“All of Mother Earth is beautiful. And like all beautiful things, danger lurks behind the façade.”

She twisted to the river. “I find the sound of the flowing water soothing.”

“You almost drowned. You treat it with the respect it deserves. You don’t hear the playfulness, you cringe at the power of the splashes and remember the darkness.”

“Can’t you find joy in anything? Not even the sunlight on your face?”

“The warmth of the sun cannot compete with the wind coming off the water.” He glanced at her. “Even if we weren’t weak from blood loss, we’d still both be cold while sitting in the sun.”

“The wind whispers to those that listen.”

“It also blows your hair into your face and tangles it.” His hair, secured with the rawhide band across his forehead, had at one time, been braided in a single plait down his back. The wind had taken offence to the confinement, and had torn it apart, and at his words, blew the waist-length mass across his chest as if to prove its power.

Faced with the truth of his words, she turned to face the opposite direction, her fingers pulling the hair away from her face. “How about the mountains? They are a magnificent display of nature. Rising up to the heavens so high I bet the snow doesn’t melt even in summer.”

“You look up to them and you feel insignificant and alone.” He gestured to the mature forest of spruce, pine and birch trees at the edge of the clearing. “Your spirit is like that overgrown trail, lost and seaching, caught up in the bramble of destiny, trying to make sense of .the tangled path woven by fate.”

“Pretty words, but you don’t know.”

“The Great Spirit gave me eyes in which to see, the sense of touch so I could feel, and compassion so I could understand the pain of another.”

“What could you understand of my pain?”

“Enough to know you came to me searching for a memory.”

“A memory implies a past.”

“In order to embrace the future, one must accept the present.”

“Very nice. You know, you should have been this philosophical before you slit your wrists.”

“Woman, I felt what you did. I don’t recall cutting myself, but I remember the need I felt to take the pain you suffered upon myself. And even then, I had the presence of mind to realize the consequences.”

“Right.”

A dark brow rose in indignation. “You will notice that I didn’t slice open the vein as you would have had you continued. I cut deep the first time, instead of torturing us by slicing too shallow and having to repeat the unpleasant task.”

“I’m sorry.” She glanced around the clearing, at last settling on his face and meeting his gaze for the first time. She balked, her fear evident in the widening of her eyes and her frantic attempt to get away. “I have to go.” She pulled the cloth free from his grasp and lurched to her feet.

“Your time for confronting the choices you have made is upon you. You can’t run anymore.”

“Watch me.”

“Why did you come?”

“What?”

“If you fear me, if you want to die, then why come to me?”

Uncertainty was evident in her puzzled frown when she faced him once more. “I was alone, and then I felt a pain greater than my own. It hurt. Enough that I stopped…” She cleared her throat, a self-conscious sound. “I was scared and tried to turn away, only to realize I must go forward because someone wanted me to live.” Her gaze traced over the contours of his face. “I don’t recognize you, but I remember you. How is that possible?”

“I don’t know. It shouldn’t be.” He closed his eyes, shaking his head in contradiction to his own words. “No. I might not understand, but I believe it is possible.” He opened his eyes and met her stare. “We are bound to each other you and I.”

“Bound?”

“Yes. Our lives are connected.”

Her expression spoke of her doubt. “Right.”

“I cannot sit while you stand.”

“What?”

“I want you to rest. If you don’t sit down here beside me, I’ll stand up and make you.”

“You’re too weak.”

He smiled. “Watch me.”

She crossed her arms over her chest as he struggled to his feet. “Happy now?”

“No.” He swayed from dizziness, closing his eyes until the world stopped spinning. He couldn’t feel his legs or his connection to Mother Earth. He only knew he was successful because she had to look up at him. “Woman, I want you to rest.”

“I could wait until you faint and leave without you knowing.” She met his gaze.

“You won’t.” He couldn’t stop the grin that curled his lips. His woman had the same defiance, the same determination and ability to rebel against his wishes.

“And why is that?”

“Because yo—”

“Idiot!” She caught him as his knees buckled, but his weight pulled her down with him.

He closed his eyes and concentrated on the air he needed wheezing in and out of his lungs. He savoured the comfort of her body on top of his, and fought an inner battle not to hold her tighter against him. To make any move toward her would scare her, and while not in any condition to pose a threat, she wouldn’t understand his need of her. With his convictions and the remembrance of his purpose, he turned his focus to her intention. And the flutter of her pulse. It was weaker. His eyes opened.

“Our time together grows short. Listen to me, Woman. This is important.” Unable to resist the urge, he reached up to cup her face, the index finger curling and running across her jaw, wishing his touch could ease the swelling and take away the bruising. “If you choose to run from your pain, to die, in this manner, I will never be able to be with you again in life. If you choose this, I will follow. I would rather have these few moments with you than live alone with no hope.”

“I am nothing to you.” She rolled off to the side, pushing herself up until she knelt beside him.

“You are everything to me.” He regarded her with scrutiny, memorizing the features hidden underneath her injuries, the bewitching clarity and intelligence in her eyes the discolouration couldn’t take away from her. “If you place your trust in me, we’ll always have each other. If you don’t, we’ll always be alone. In the life we would give up right now, and in the ones we are about to forfeit.”

“You believe that?”

“With everything I am.” His body protested the strain he inflicted on it to get into a sitting position beside her. Once he succeeded, he held his hand out toward her, feeling her reluctance when she clasped it. He spread his fingers, entwining them with hers. “Do you not find it strange that I was searching for a spirit and you came to me? Isn’t it odd that you thought to take the last solitary journey, only to find you are not alone, in a place you’ve been before but you’ve never walked upon?” He indicated their wrists with a slight nod; he pressed their hands together until he felt her flinch away from the tenderness, the pulse of pain. “Two acts of desperation. Two lost spirits in need of assurance and comfort. I recognize the significance. Do you?”

“I’m scared.”

“So am I.” He took possession of the cloth and wrapped it around her wrist. “If you ever have need of me, all you have to do is feel me in here.” He placed his hand over her heart. “I will always be able to find you.” She didn’t resist as he eased her into his embrace and soothed her hair over her back.

“Promise?”

His lips curled against her hair. “As you have done for me. I promise.” He eased back and wiped her tears from her cheeks with the pads of his thumbs. “When you have need of me, I’ll be there for you. Now. Go.”

She stood, her earlier aversion to stay a hesitation to leave. After a few moments she turned from him and faced the towering trees of her indecision. He watched her walk away, every step matching the stutter of his breathing. Before she reached the perimeter she faded from his sight; a hawk swooped in, and talons outstretched, settled on a nearby tree.

Grief consumed him, numbing the physical lethargy of his body. He had lost her for the second time. Had lied to her again. Had made the same promises he had made before and couldn’t keep in life. Only this time, he hadn’t eased her pain, he had convinced her to go back to an existence of misery and fear. She wouldn’t have a merciful death. Her passing held the promise of a gruesome tragedy by the one who should cherish her.

The sun taunted him with the promise of warmth even as it descended toward the horizon where mountain met sky. He felt the chill of the shadows, the wind stealing the tears he couldn’t weep. Day stretched into night as he sat in the clearing, his arms aching to hold her, his gaze trained on the spot she disappeared. A full moon cast the land with silhouettes, her shade amongst the living. A solitary wolf howled in the distance; the mournful cry brought solace and put his desolation into perspective.

He sighed in resignation, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger. Then his gaze went to the bird of prey perched mere feet from him. Eyes unblinking, they assessed each other. “Thank you for watching over me. Now. Go.”

The hawk’s head tilted at a mocking angle.

He smiled. “I promise my love. I will sleep and wake to survive this life so we can be together in the next.”

Launched skyward, her soulful cry blended with the wolf. His sorrow and anguish a heartache to be endured, he stretched out on the ground to gaze up at the heavens. Somewhere, in some time, the same moon would shine down on her.

She was alive. He had seen her.

He lay down, uncaring of the rocks digging into his back, the chill of the ground or the savagery of the wind pulling at his clothes.

He would sleep, for in dreams, he could be with her again.

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[> [> I will be back with this later in the week! Promise! -- Larn, 03:33:35 07/01/09 Wed


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[> [> I feel his need of her. -- Debi, 16:46:04 07/03/09 Fri

You can write some serious expression. It's very emotional.

Both his scene with his wife's (?) killer and the later scene with the other woman, I can feel the depth of his emotions. He's secure in his own abilities and quite capable, both in his desire to rend the killer and his talk about the beauty and peril of nature. He's complex; does he ever doubt himself? Confidence is a good thing, but is he ever vulnerable to her, have need of her help? I know, I haven't read the whole thing.

>He would sleep, for in dreams, he could be with her
>again.

Who among us hasn't hoped to cling to a dream for what was contained within?

Nice work, Esther. I look forward to more!

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[> [> [> That’s cool! >>> -- Esther, 14:29:47 07/06/09 Mon

You can write some serious expression. It's very emotional.

Thank you!

Both his scene with his wife's (?) killer and the later scene with the other woman, I can feel the depth of his emotions. He's secure in his own abilities and quite capable, both in his desire to rend the killer and his talk about the beauty and peril of nature. He's complex; does he ever doubt himself? Confidence is a good thing, but is he ever vulnerable to her, have need of her help? I know, I haven't read the whole thing.

I just love this! I’m glad he comes across as capable. And complex! Woohoo! *G* Now does he ever doubt himself? How’s this?

Excerpt from working title ‘Pander’
by Esther Sawatzky © 2002 All rights reserved.
Posted for critiquing purposes only and does not constitute publication.


He rubbed his hands together, hoping to prevent frostbite, but all the while his attention was more on the woman. What was she in the saloon? It was by far, the vilest place he had ever been in. Where did she come from? Why was she here now? He wondered if he would ever have answers to those plaguing questions or if she would wake up in time to realize his actions would most likely end up freezing them both to death.

Gareth knelt down beside her. She was trembling. He stripped his outerwear and with only the briefest hesitation stripped that as well before he crawled into the blanket beside her, wrapping his arms around her. He cuddled her to his body and was thankful to notice with their bodies pressed together in soothing warmth her shivering subsided.

He fought against the desire to go to sleep. He was so tired and he wanted to join the woman in his dreams, where he knew she would be, as she had resided there for as long as he could remember. It would be so easy to welcome the icy embrace of the storm and simply let go. He wanted to accept the numbing effects of the cold and not feel any more pain, physically or mentally. He wanted to know the woman he held in his arms could never be hurt again. He wanted to protect her. He wanted the luxury of eternity with her. In death, nothing could keep them apart.

Raised to be a warrior, Gareth did not fear dying, he feared dying without her; he did not want to spend his afterlife as he had his physical one. Alone. In life, he was misunderstood and despised. If he listened to the wind, and accepted this as the end, she wouldn’t witness the hatred. Hatred she would experience because of his actions and what he was. Hatred she would have for him. By saving her from Trystan, he had damned her to the same solitary existence as his. By preventing the rape, he had damned her to the condemnation of the people who didn’t prevent, or stop, the abuse.

She sighed in her sleep, squirming to get closer to him, an erotic movement that damned her yet again.

Aroused, he accepted another truth. Despite everything, he was a man, and his body wanted hers with a desperation that threatened to overwhelm him. He could feel her softness, her backside pressed intimately against him, her breast in his hand. He shifted and couldn’t help but notice how her movements matched his, how she was the perfect fit for his large frame. In this position he could envision himself pressing against her, into her, taking her, ravishing her until she begged him for release. Gareth had dreamt of her for so long, he could see her eyes darken with passion and hear her moans as she took him into her body and they soared above life itself.

It was these thoughts that kept him awake and burning hot, during the long, cold, stormy night. These desires that forced his mind from death, and towards living. For now he had to be content with his dreams, of the newfound feelings of contentment and belonging. To savour the knowledge that he was free to cherish her, and care for her. Until she was ready, he had no intention of forcing himself on her. Until she was ready, he would wait for his answers. Understanding they held unmitigated sway over their fate, he didn’t want to hear them at all.

>He would sleep, for in dreams, he could be with her
>again.

Who among us hasn't hoped to cling to a dream for what was contained within?

I think I’m guilty of that myself. *G*

Nice work, Esther. I look forward to more!

Thanks Debi! More will be on the way soon!

Hugs

Esther

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[> [> [> [> Oh yeah, I like it! -- Debi, 06:48:05 07/07/09 Tue

Very cool! And as much as he wants to know about her and all the answers, he's willing to forgo them if it means they can be together longer.
They are a pair, aren't they? ;-)

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[> [> Here's the main question I have >>>> -- Page, 21:18:26 07/03/09 Fri

How did she get there? *G* I guess I'm confused as to the place. Is it a place on the physical plane, or a place where their spirits meet?

He's much more clear to me now, though. He "knew" she would need him, and he prepared himself by going to this place. And he saved her life by cutting his wrists, but not deep enough to kill. At least, that's what I get when reading this. Oh, and I also liked how he pointed out that peace wasn't to be found in that place (by killing herself) by pointing out the negative aspects of everything she seemed to want.

The bits you've posted are so intriguing, and I really want to see more of this story, much as I love Fallon. *G*

Hugs,
Page

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[> [> [> Have I ever mentioned how much I love questions???? >>> -- Esther, 14:48:06 07/06/09 Mon

How did she get there? *G* I guess I'm confused as to the place. Is it a place on the physical plane, or a place where their spirits meet?

Ah. Now that is the question isn’t it. *G* At this point it could be either/or or it could be both, like a combination that mixes the best of both worlds. Yeah, I like that. Because his world is real, but she doesn’t belong there. And when she leaves to go back to hers she fades from his sight.

He's much more clear to me now, though. He "knew" she would need him, and he prepared himself by going to this place. And he saved her life by cutting his wrists, but not deep enough to kill. At least, that's what I get when reading this. Oh, and I also liked how he pointed out that peace wasn't to be found in that place (by killing herself) by pointing out the negative aspects of everything she seemed to want.

Good to know! Thanks! I’m on the right track.

As for the peace, I’m glad it came out that way. Later on, Gareth is more candid as to why he doesn’t like the place and why there will never be peace for them there.

The bits you've posted are so intriguing, and I really want to see more of this story, much as I love Fallon. *G*

LOL Thanks Page. And Fallon misses you too and doesn't want you to forget him. So...he asked if I’d mind sharing this little bit with you. How could I refuse? *G*



Excerpt from working title ‘Mirrors’
by E.M. Sawatzky © 2009 All rights reserved.
Posted for critiquing purposes only and does not constitute publication.


Oh I believe our laws state otherwise.

Cadmus whirled around. “How’d you…?”

Fallon. Excited, thrilled, and proud, I felt him move inside me again. He was a being I couldn’t resist.

He was still a fair distance away, just appearing from around the corner. A slow, deliberate pace brought him closer, and closer still, his gait emphasizing the power behind every stride. As much as I loved to watch his body, I wished him before me. I closed my eyes, and I could smell his magic, his power, his absolute maleness and need to satisfy.

“How’d I what, Cadmus? Find you?” Within touching distance, Fallon motioned me away from Cadmus with a quick tilt of his head. “It wasn’t hard. I’ve been here before.”

“Impossible. No one knows of this place.”

Fallon swept his arm out, turning in a slow circle. Images revealed themselves in detail, overlapping each other in holograms of testimony. “Who do you think performed the acts you inflicted on the unwary when you were to squeamish to perform them yourself?”

Cadmus shook his head in denial. “No.”

“Oh yes.” Fallon smiled, a cold calculating twist of his lips. The images disappeared as if they never existed. His gaze tracked to mine, demanding I stand beside him. “She’s mine. Mine to protect. Mine to choose. Mine to do with AS. I. WILL. Leave off.”

Cadmus grabbed my arm, preventing me from the inevitable. “We are to cater to her desires, Fallon. Her Fantasies. We are to take her where she needs to be.” He stepped in front of me, blocking my sight, but not my need. “More to the point. I’ve claimed her. She’s my mate.”

A growl rumbled from Fallon’s throat, a direct response to my dismay rather than Cadmus’s words. “I think not.”

Cadmus laughed. “It’s unfortunate, for you, that only one stronger than I could break our union. You do not have the power to do more than serve.”

“You dare abuse the laws that protect her?”

“Ours is a vicious world Fallon. Surely you understand that. It’s not the meek that will inherit.”

“You want to play with me and find out?”

“You can’t win.”

“Let me make this clear so you will understand. You are temptation. You have to create a deception to make yourself seem powerful and capable of performing. I know you can’t. You use the enticement of pleasure to lure your victims to slaughter. You are a lie.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. And what are you Fallon?

Fallon’s smile gentled and he turned his focus to me as if Cadmus wasn’t there. “Honey, I am lust. I’m the craving that is always there. Always ready. Always willing to serve.” He turned is attention back to Cadmus. His voice took on a dangerous edge. “And always stronger.”

It was Cadmus’s turn to smile. “I am a Sentinel. You are nothing.”

“Nothing? Oh I think not.” Fallon raised his arms; a wind swept through. I felt the warm caress of phantom hands protecting me.

Cadmus wasn’t as fortunate, restrained with his back to the rock ledge, unable to move, he was livid. “You bastard. You are nothing but a scourge I should have disposed of when I flogged you for disobedience. Release me at once.”

“I think not.”

“Afraid Fallon? Are you terrified of what I will do to you when I’m free?”

“You know what your trouble is Cadmus? You hide behind your position. You think being a Sentinel makes you all-powerful.”

“I am powerful.”

“Then break your servant’s hold.”

Cadmus struggled against his invisible bonds. Sweat beaded on his forehead, his breath came in panting gasps. His body was exhausted from exertion, from the attempt to free himself from Fallon’s grip. Drained, he slumped forward.

Able to move about without restraint, I walked toward Fallon and placed my hand on his forearm. “He’s had enough.”

Bonds broke; Cadmus fell in a heap to the ground.

Fallon wrapped an arm around my shoulder, and together we approached Cadmus, standing before him, waiting for him to recuperate.

“When the Senate of Peers judges you, Fallon, you will pay for your insubordination and lies.” Cadmus rose to his feet, all grace gone. “Like always.”

“There will be no judgment.”

“You possess greater magic than anyone expects or believes, but that deceit will not prevent what you have coming. You have so far only had a small sampling of our punishments for the lawless.”

“A Sentinel represents the power of the one he serves. Whom do you serve Cadmus?”

Cadmus’s eyes widened; his tone spoke of his shock and disbelief. “I serve the Master.” His eyes narrowed in accusation. “Surely you don’t impl—”

“You Cadmus, have been stripped of your power. Your magic is no more.”

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[> [> [> [> Yesss! *pumps fist in air* Fallon triumphs! It's very nice to see Cadmus get what's coming to him, because I worried about that. Yes, worried, like it was something happening to people I know. Great characters, great story, great exceprt!! -- Page, 19:25:00 07/06/09 Mon


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[> the reason for silence -- dea, 17:26:37 06/30/09 Tue

first of all, i'm sorry i can't be here so often. i'm less than 3 weeks away from Scotland and the Outlander/Gathering Tour and an extended tour of England so i really can't think of anything but the last details of my journey.

then, i have to say that the writing projects seem great, though i can't really get more involved with them right now. i could finish Heights of Abraham in time, but it would not be fair, because there's only a tiny little bit of one chapter to write, and i even know what i mean to write for that part [Ashton asks Bryony to move in with him and she says no], but i really have no mind for it right now. i've been receiving more than good critique from family and friends [as "beta readers"], for what that's worth, and i may consider publishing a bilingual version [already written]. but only after i come back.

one of the exciting things about this journey is i'll finally meet DG, she's been invited to speak at the Gathering. i guess i'm back to the "intake phase" and i'm sure i'll come back fully replenished with inspiration.

to my dear companions of the sisterhood of the quill, i bid you farewell and adieu!

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[> [> I hope it's not a forever adieu! >>>> -- Page, 21:28:35 06/30/09 Tue

You lucky thing, getting to go to Scotland and meet Herself! I'm green with envy here!

I will be one of the first in line to buy my copy of Heights of Abraham, dea, and am so proud of you!

Do come back when you can!

Hugs,
Page

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[> [> I'm with Page! -- Larn, 03:31:39 07/01/09 Wed

My motto when it comes to literature is "Writing Is Great, But Life Is Better!"

What would we write about if we didn't get out a live a little? Don't stress about "missing" anything here. Read at your leisure or not at all. Homeworks are by no means required. Heck, even I didn't do them for a while there.

I suppose what I mean is, have a freaking awesome time in England, take a stupidly large amount of photos, and send Herself a greeting from the Lallybroch Literary Forum gals!

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[> [> thank you ladies! -- dea, 17:54:00 07/01/09 Wed

i'll be dropping by swiftly, it's part of my day, to come here and have a pick. i'll do my best to fulfill my role as unnofficial representative of the LOL Literary Forum with pride and honour! :)

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[> [> Sometimes silence is just what we need >>> -- Esther, 10:07:20 07/02/09 Thu

Especially in light of a trip like you have planned! No wonder you're in 'lurk' mode. *G* I'd be too! I've met Herself on a couple of occasions, and a more gracious lady you will never meet.

Oh and never apologize for being absent. Life does go on outside these boards, we all understand that, and you know what? The board will be here when you are ready to come back.

As for the writing gig, well...you've already accomplished what I have not. Only a tiny little bit of once chapter to write? I wish! Kudos to you!

Have a great trip dea! And remember to have someone take your picture when you get Herself to sign her book.


Hugs

Esther

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[> [> [> Have fun dea! -- Debi, 16:52:29 07/03/09 Fri

I envy you your trip. Recharge, decompress and come back ready to go! Leaving it alone is a good way to let your characters speak to you again, on their own terms. And it's always better that way, than trying to make them fit the mold you're trying to force them int. Just like real people, they're resistant to that sort of thing.

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