So I thought it would be fun to share a snippet from my desperately behind Nano novel. Please forgive my grammar because I’m not editing until December.
From Across the Cold Dark Sea:
I push the door and it swings into the stone of the wall. It splinters and Da stands up from his chair at Eòsaph’s bed. His black fur cloak falls to the floor along with his chair.
“Nansaidh!” he roars. I run right up to his heaving chest and hold up my hand. My lungs are screaming and I have to take a couple of shuddering breaths before I can speak. Da glares at me but waits.
“Da. I know the words. I know the words.” I sink to the floor, black spots dancing before my eyes, but Da hauls me back to my feet. He shakes me hard and my teeth rattle, but the black spots go away.
“Speak them, Lass,” he commands.
“I’ll need the Lochlanach,” I say to his chest. Da’s large hands still grip my shoulders tightly. “I’ll need them side by side.”
Da is silent. I keep my eyes on his chest, afraid to see his doubt of me etched in the lines of his face. He finally releases my shoulders and I resist the urge to rub the blood back into them as he moves to the door and calls for the other to be brought in. I have to jump out of the way when Calum and Marc drag his hulk into our hut and toss him into the dirt beside Eòsaph. I wince as the Lochlanach hits the floor. Lying next to my brother, he looks like a giant, over a head taller than Eòsaph and twice as broad.
“Say it now, Nansaidh,” Da’s voice echoes against the stone walls. He, Calum, and Marc look at me and my stomach feels like it’s full of moths. I don’t want to fail again.
I turn my back on them and kneel in between the heather of my brother’s bed and massive chest of the foreign warrior. I rub my fingers together to try and work the trembling out of them before placing a hand over each of their wounds. I hope my words are strong enough to heal their hearts.
I take a deep breath and close my eyes.
“Gaol-ást,” I whisper and wait. I squeeze my eyes tight until blue streaks start to appear. “Gaol-ást,” I speak again, louder.
My hands start to feel hot and I press my hands harder into their chests until I feel blood gurgle up between my fingers. “Gaol-ást!” I scream and pain like fire fills my palms. My eyes fly open as my hands are pushed off their chests with such force that I fall back onto the cold floor.
I push myself back up and stare into the ice-blue eyes of the Lochlanach. He is awake and sitting up, a bright red slash over his heart. I turn to Eòsaph, who is moving to sit up, his fingers feeling his own red welt, when I hear the sound of swords being drawn.
I hope your novels are going well. We’re at the half-way mark. Go, go, go!
Stay tuned for Jen’s No Rules Friday next week.