Sunday, November 30, 2008

Sneak peek: an excerpt from [Untitled Fantasy Novel]

"Ha! You can't run forever!" Peale was struggling to keep up, but he didn't let it show in his voice, or let his sword-arm droop as he chased after his prey. "Besides, only girls run away from a fight."

That got her attention. She wheeled on one foot, bringing her weapon to the ready. "Say that to my face, little boy." Ginny stood up as straight as she could, resisting the temptation to go up on her tiptoes. Her eyes barely reached his chin.

They raised their blades in a quick salute, and engaged each other, bark flying as the sticks collided. Each move was a carefully planned simulation; Ginny brought her twig up to cover her head, and Peale brought his down across it. She grunted with effort and pushed his weapon up-and-out, leaving his belly undefended: she could now run him through with the tip of her rapier. Here she paused, waiting for him to dodge to the side. Once his body was clear, she thrust forward, stumbling as the force carried her past his position.

Peale caught her as she passed, pressing his chest to her back and gathering one his free arm around both of hers so that her elbows were pinned. He brought his stick up against her throat. "Surrender now. I'll have your body or your life, woman!"

This was Ginny's cue to drop her weapon. "Oh powerful knight, do not abuse me, and I will be yours!" She turned in his arms, clasped her hands together, and put on her best submissive-peasant face.

"Very well, I shall take thee as my wife, and you shall be the happiest woman ever to have lived" boasted Peale. Tightening his hold, he brought his lips toward hers. At the last instant, she turned her head aside, and his kiss landed upon her burning cheek. She giggled and, suddenly stronger than her captor, broke free of his grasp.

"See you tomorrow, Pea!" Ginny called over her shoulder, sprinting toward her house.

"I told you never to call me that" he yelled back. Peale stared after her for a while, then finally slunk off towards his own home, late to dinner for the third time in a week.

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