By the way, here's an excerpt from chapter one of my fantasy novel. It's the very beginning.
The chimes above the shop door twinkled as the last customer left. Imi took a ring thick with keys from her apron pocket and locked it. She sighed as she hefted a heavy beam across the frame, and put her keys back. The smells of the powders, pastes, and liquids that lined every shelf of the apothecary became stronger as the last tendril of fresh air escaped under the door. Imi reached for a thatch broom and began brushing the sawdust-covered floor. She hummed as she swept away the remnants of another day's work and placed it into a wooden pale.
Imi went about her chores with her mind running through the shop owner's evening routine. People came from all around the empire to get their claws on Madame Krodge's wares. They were rumoured to be the purest in the world. Imi chuckled softly and lifted the full bucket. There was nothing special about Krodge's ingredients; the old woman just made people think there was. Imi shook her head and smiled as she walked behind a heavy wooden counter and tipped the pale into a large cage. She watched as her herd of smotchings – small and agile creatures harvested for their organs – rocketed around their home and dove into the pile of floor-sweepings. Now that Madame Krodge was bedridden, Imi ran the shop in her stead. The heavy money belt sitting on her waist spoke of the trust the woman had in her. Either that, or of the fact the old boot would personally hunt her down and behead her if she disappeared with it, crippled or not.
A sharp bang on the door made Imi reach for her dagger. She went to the large front window and sheathed her weapon when she saw two men cradling a bloody and limp body on the doorstep.
'Miss Imi! Madame Krodge! Please help!'
Imi swore under her breath and fumbled with her keys. She threw back the beam, thrust the key in the lock, and the two men leapt into the shop, dragging the body between them.
'Thank the Goddess!' One exclaimed.
'What happened?' Imi asked sharply, pulling the body out of their grasp to lay it on the floor.
'We found her in the woods. We thought she was dead, but look!'
One of the men pointed out the shallow rise and fall of the woman's chest. Imi already had her hand on the woman's heart. She jumped to her feet and snatched several vials and boxes from a the shelves, and ran around the counter for her twine and needles. The rodents were racing around their cage, smashing into the sides and squealing. Imi turned and saw that people were pressing against the windows and seeping in through the door.
'Keep them all out!' She bellowed.
The two men immediately ran to the entrance and began pushing the threatening tide back.
Blood was spilling across the wooden floor from a deep slice in the woman's abdomen. Imi recoiled as she saw something wriggle out of the wound and fall onto the floor, drowning in the blood. She gulped back sour bile as she pulled the woman's ragged shirt apart. She bunched the material up and pressed the cleanest part against the open gash. The woman did not stir. Her face remained pale and her eyes were still open and rolled back. Imi could feel a dull pump from within the wound. She felt a chill rush to her hands, permeating the material and into the woman's chest. The sound of the crowd was beaten back by the shouts of the two men keeping them at bay, only for them to be overpowered and toppled over like a paper boat in a storm. The men built themselves up again, and pushed back. The rodents were still squealing, battering their mesh cage with brute force. Imi breathed in blood and sweat and pressed against the gash until her shoulders ached. The cloth became saturated, and she removed it. The wound was still gaping like a wide toothless smile, but the bleeding had already stopped. Imi threw the cloth aside.
She pressed her warming fingertips around the exposed flesh, looking for any more wriggling intruders, but found none. She moved aside and mixed a foul-smelling paste from the ingredients she had brought with her. She coughed and tried not to gag as she lathered it onto the open wound.
'I need some help,' she said, looking up.
One of the men ran to her side and knelt down, staring at her with wide eyes.
It continues on for there, but I thought I'd just paste the first few pages. I'm hoping I'll eventually find a publisher who wants to take it on. So far it's been rejected by about five different agents, but I'm not surprised. I'm only really submitting it at the moment to make me actually write it, so I can work on it and improve it and submit it again.
I got my Creative Writing (Prose) module mark: 63! Yay! Bumps me up a little closer to a first.
My new j0b is going well. It can get busy at some points in the day, but mostly it's quiet. I'm running the espresso bar myself so it gives me a lot of time to think about my books.
Oh, and my fifteens went down a treat.
Stupidity of the Day: Writing on laptop, tried to use PC mouse to move cursor. Oy.
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