A Huntress is Born, Lives, and Stalks Through My Fantasies…

Tag Archives: England

Hi there! Welcome to WIPpet Wednesday –K.L. Schwengel’s weekly blog hop which encourages writers to move their WIPs (works-in-progress) to publication by posting excerpts related to the date.

It’s been a rough last couple of days – I’ve been more or less out of commission. Fortunately, I’m well on the mend today – but also very busy with catch-up – I’ve got unanswered comments from last week, plotting and revising, and, oh, the hometending that didn’t happen these last days…

That being said, I did attain my 60 hour goal for the month, and move a little beyond it!

Today, we have more of Chameleon’s Dish, (Trueborn Weft Series), companion volume to Bounded by a Nutshell (Trueborn Warp series Star Trek fan fiction):

Updated logline:

In the dangerously superstitious past of Shakespeare’s England, an amnesiac girl and a foundling boy must keep her strange nature hidden as they stalk the Bard’s words on the trail of her lost identity.

I’m still in the middle of the rewrite of Scene 8/60 (Nockatee’s Black Moment). Today’s offering will be rough and a little disheveled…but, trust me, it’s better than the rough draft of this scene, which delved deep into fanfic country, although this is intended to be original fantasy…

The setup:

Nockatee is hiding in the heavens, up under the thatched roof of the Globe Theatre. She and Henry have just avoided danger and detection outside the theatre, and now there is a new threat inside – Kirana, Tisira’s twin. With her here, Tisira rises within Nockatee, threatening her very self…for reference, these events occur shortly before those in my previous WIPpet,Burning Desperation.

And now, on to the WIPpeting!

WIPpet Math:

Today is March 26, 2014.

  • Today’s math is a bit tricky…
  • 26(for the date) -3 (for the month)=23; 23-7 (for the digits of the year, added)=17; 17+2 (for Tisira and Nockatee, sharing one body)=19
  • Voila! 19 sentences!

The prologue went on, but I – I felt that first line echoing within me. Aye. This was as that. I must claim my own life, my own self. Tisira was near, and as fine a Huntress as I, mayhap better. She would take my life as her prey, if she were able, turn me again to her will, as though I had never been.

Nay, I would not allow it!

“I am Nockatee, and not your Tisira.” That was a certainty I could hold to, as solid as the ledge I crouched upon – a weapon against my twin; against that other piece of myself. My eyes scanned the crowd – it was a fine day, and all the town, it seemed, had come out to see the Kings’ Men. Too many hats, too many colors, too many faces…

I could feel her, with my mind, and, dimly, held cased like an ember within her – “Father!”

“Yes, sister. He is within me, and Mother, too – will you not remember, and return?”

Bait! Father made himself bait, to tempt me, to bring me to him, to keep me near him in his madness – but what of Henry? It was Tisira Father wanted; Tisira who was his companion. I, Nockatee, wife of Henry, knew him only thus – through dreams, and memories, and held within the mind of my – nay, Tisira’s – twin.

Only a foolish Huntress would walk into such a trap.

 

Will Tisira succeed in overtaking Nockatee? Will Father spring his trap? And what of Nockatee, and Henry? Will their love survive in spite of the escalating threats? Can Nockatee hang onto her self, even with this proof of her former life?

Stop by next week…I can’t promise answers to any of these questions, but I can promise new ones! =)

Want more WIPpets?

The play being performed when the Globe caught fire on 29 June 1613 was Henry VIII. A nifty detail – I married a man who looks remarkably like the randy old monarch…happily, our firstborn was a son, and I’m the faithful type…so my neck is safe.

Still, I can’t think of Henry without thinking, “Horrible Histories!”

 

 

 

 

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It’s #WIPpet Wednesday –K.L. Schwengel’s brainchild which encourages writers to move their WIPs (works-in-progress) to publication by posting excerpts related to the date.

We’re getting close to the final snippets before March, when I will be revising CD for NaNoEdMo, and you get even better passages!

March will be an editing month, and then April and May will be creating months, with the 2014 A to Z April Challenge , CampNaNoWriMo, and Story-a-Day May.

Lots of busy happiness ahead, and I’ll be sharing more details on these in the coming weeks.

And now, on to the WIPpeting!

WIPpet Math:

Today is February 19, 2014.

  • Today’s math is – all about tomorrow. Tomorrow, you see, my husband turns 50. We also celebrate the 17th anniversary of the day we met.
  • So, you get 67 words from the beginning of the climactic scenes.

Henry, Nockatee, and Tisira have a bit of a fan club amongst the#WIPpeteers, so we’ll stay withTrueborn Weft series fantasy WIP, Chameleon’s Dish– at least until we get to a place where sharing might give too much away.

Chameleon’s Dish is the companion volume to Bounded by a Nutshell (Trueborn Warp series Star Trek fan fiction).

In the dangerously superstitious past of Shakespeare’s England, an amnesiac girl and a foundling boy must keep her strange nature hidden as they stalk her lost identity.

This snippet occurs a bit after my last WIPpet. In actual timelines, this snippet is set on 29 June 1613 – the day of the Globe Theatre fire.

Tisira tugged and grunted; the trapdoor was meant to be lifted by a grown man, and not a girlchild. But Henry was on the other side, maybe still not knowing there was a fire, and his life in danger. She couldn’t feel him now; too many other minds clamored and twisted in the mass chaos of flight.

She had to reach him. She set herself, and heaved…

Will Tisira get the trapdoor open, and save Henry? Will they survive the fire? And what comes next, now that Tisira has remembered herself?

Well, now – for that, you might just need to read the entire book…! Of course, I’m going to need to revise it first…my business for next month.

Here’s a fitting song for the moment… and a hearkening back to my own childhood, with a father who has a passion for “The Man in Black.”

Want more WIPpets?


 It’s #WIPpet Wednesday –K.L. Schwengel’s brainchild which encourages writers to move their WIPs (works-in-progress) to publication by posting excerpts related to the date.

Before I get to the WIPpet, I want to announce that I’m getting close to the point where sharing would involve spoilers. I think I have enough snippets left to last until March, when I will be revising CD for NaNoEdMo.

I’m not quite sure what to offer in March. I will be writing many new scenes and tweaking and rewriting much of what’s here – there are serious issues to deal with, subplots and characters and conflict and disasters to add…it will still have the charm of Henry and Tisira, with a much more cohesive, rich storyline. I might.

  • Offer bits as I go – this could get confusing, as the new scenes will be woven in throughout the novel, and I will be going back to the beginning.
  • Offer revised versions of snippets already shared, for comparison and comment.
  • Offer something else…I’ve been making pre-editing notes aplenty for Bounded by a Nutshell, the companion fanfic for this WIP. I could share those, or something else.

I’m open to suggestions or preferences, and will decide for sure before the last post of the month.

And now, on to the WIPpeting!

WIPpet Math:

Today is February 5, 2014.

  • Today’s math: (14-5+2=11). I subtracted the date, the 5th, from the last two digits of the year, 14. Then I added 2 for the month.
  • Today’s WIPpet is 11 sentences.

Henry and Tisira have a bit of a fan club amongst the #WIPpeteers, so we’ll stay with my Trueborn Weft series fantasy WIP, Chameleon’s Dish at least until we get to a place where sharing might give too much away.

In the dangerously superstitious past of Shakespeare’s England, an amnesiac girl and a foundling boy must keep her strange nature hidden as they stalk her lost identity.

We rejoin Tisira as she is, once again, up in the air…

This snippet occurs several hours after my last WIPpet, In the Heavens .Chameleon’s Dish is the companion volume to Bounded by a Nutshell (Trueborn Warp series Star Trek fan fiction).


Tisira slipped carefully, hairsbreadth by hairsbreadth, from beneath Henry’s outflung arm, loathe to wake him and feel the sharp bite of his fears – a bone he could not give up gnawing. Just as she could not give up the Hunt for the meaning of the words,or the wrongness of the stars.

He said nothing of it, ever; nor did she, anymore. And yet it was ever there between them, this gnawing, a live thing eating at their easiness in one another.

She stood watching him for a twentybreath – not her purposeful breaths, already wanting to be out and away, but his slow, sleeping comforting breath. She let it flow through her, binding them, setting a part of herself to his rhythm, to keep him with her as she Hunted, and mayhap to be a part of his dreaming.

But then the gnawing grew too much, and she Changed, slipping out the open window, and up to the thatched roof. It was a middling stifling night, with thick full air, but at least the scents she read from this far up were spiced with the river, and the temptation of the woodlands.

The stars are fire,” said Father’s voice, in her mind, as she looked to the stars, their wrongness still gnawing, gnawing. Was it imagining that she heard, too, not only the voice of the actor who had spoken the line in the courtyard below, but another, a singing voice like a man too far gone into his drinking bowl, as she sometimes saw at Osiraan?

Osiraan?

Will Tisira unravel this riddle? Will Henry be the one wakening alone? Are there other dangers lurking, as yet undetected? And what or where is Osiraan?

Come back next week to find out…!

 And, one more thing before I go…

Here’s a song for the girl who Hunts answers and gnaws at bones, while the world sleeps and spins around her. It also happens to be one of my personal favorite bits of musical loveliness.

Want more WIPpets?


 It’s #WIPpet Wednesday –K.L. Schwengel’s brainchild which encourages writers to move their WIPs (works-in-progress) to publication by posting excerpts related to the date.

WIPpet Math:

Today is January 22, 2014.

  • Today’s math: (22-1-7=14). I began with the date (22), then subtracted the month (1), and then the digits of the year (2+0+1+4=7).
  • Today’s WIPpet is 14 sentences.

Henry and Tisira have a bit of a fan club amongst the #WIPpeteers, so we’ll stay withTrueborn Weft series fantasy WIP, Chameleon’s Dish– at least until we get to a place where sharing might give too much away.

In the dangerously superstitious past of Shakespeare’s England, an amnesiac girl and a foundling boy must keep her strange nature hidden as they stalk her lost identity.

We find Tisira awakening alone at the cottage, and confused…

This snippet occurs immediately after my last WIPpet, At the Cottage Chameleon’s Dish is the companion volume to Bounded by a Nutshell (Trueborn Warp series Star Trek fan fiction).

Nockatee half-awoke, and for a thirtybreath,she hovered between worlds, Burning with Father’s soulfires, chilled through to the marrow. Then, a nightbird’s sharp trill roused her, and she was awake,huddled and shivering on cold, damp earth.

A tenbreath later, she recognized the scent, and knew that she was on the floor of the cottage, lengthening shadows her only covering, for she was naked. She did not remember coming here. Had she not been Hunting?

But Henry was not here, and hadn’t been, since they left, by the scent. In the bond, she could feel him -all worry for her that he tried to cover – that she would find where she belonged, and leave him behind; that she had come to some terrible harm in the woodlands.

His fears tangled with her own – the words, that were old, heard in Father’s deep, calm voice as she fell asleep in the cupboard in his office, but new-writ in the book Henry had given her. And the stars – the wrong stars, she knew, without knowing how the stars could be wrong, or what was wrong about them.

She lay, without moving except for her body’s trembling, and waited for the answers to come, for another hundredbreath

Sima garo will provide. There are always possibilities.

So whispered the voices of her parents in her soul. Perhaps they were true whispers; for memory began to form around her presence here, in the cottage she and Henry had shared. She had come to these Huntlands, alone,with herself her quarry.

Nockatee is finding answers, but each seems only to bring more questions. Will these prove the same, or will she finally be able to put the pieces together, and puzzle out an answer?

And here’s a song that might offer Nockatee some hope, as she wrestles with all she remembers, and all she doesn’t know…

Want more WIPpets?


 It’s #WIPpet Wednesday –K.L. Schwengel’s brainchild which encourages writers to move their WIPs (works-in-progress) to publication by posting excerpts related to the date.

WIPpet Math:

Today is December 25, 2013.

  • Today’s math is simple. 25 lines for the date, then a bonus birthday gift for my lifelong friend and soulsister, Eden Mabee – and a Christmas treat for everyone else.

Eden’s been missing Henry and Tisira, so this week we’ll stay with Trueborn Weft series fantasy WIP, Chameleon’s Dish.

In the dangerously superstitious past of Shakespeare’s England, an amnesiac girl and a foundling boy must keep her strange nature hidden as they stalk her lost identity.

We rejoin Henry and his wild mate, Nockatee, at the White Hart Inn, in London, where they’ve gone to trade and to seek the words Nockatee feels hold the answer to the mystery of her identity.

This snippet occurs the morning following last week’s WIPpet, The White Hart.It’s the companion volume to Bounded by a Nutshell (Trueborn Warp Series Star Trek fan fiction). The words discovered here are referenced earlier in the WIP, and were shared in a previous WIPpet, Words, Words, Words.

She went to the small, plain ewer and basin in the corner, and splashed noisily for a few moments, as though she could sluice away all questions and disturbing thoughts in so doing.

Then she turned back to him and said, all in a breath, “At what time will the players perform, Henry, and where? Will there be Shakespeare? I should not like to miss it, if there is.”

Henry smiled, and tried to put aside the worries of last night, when Tisira had been so near, and so threatening in her strangeness. This morn, she was his Nockatee, and mayhap that was enough.

“I will ask, when we go to break our fast. Who will milk our Nanny?”

“I will tend her. Let’s give the milk we can’t drink to the inn.” Her eyes brightened, and she licked her lips. “Do you think there will be more mutton stew?”

Henry laughed at her expression. “If there be any left, I think there will not be, once you have done with it!”

They passed their morning, after that, in busyness. Nockatee tended to Nanny, who was happy in a large stall. While Henry was tending the morning fire in the greatroom, he learned that the players would arrive at one o’clock, and that they would be performing Hamlet.

Nockatee was settled in his  mind, all morn, and the name ‘Hamlet’ passed, several times, through her thoughts, as though trying to attach to something, and – almost – succeeding. But, each time, whatever it was drifted back into the dark places she could not touch within herself.

And then, at last, the play started, and she sat rapt and straight on the bench beside him, with that air that minded him of a hunting cat again, as though she might sit there, never moving, forever.She was so beautiful that Henry could hardly breathe, and he could attend to the play not at all. There was only her, and her unblinking attention…

“DOUBT THAT THE STARS ARE FIRE
DOUBT THAT THE EARTH DOTH MOVE
DOUBT TRUTH TO BE A LIAR
BUT NEVER DOUBT I LOVE.”

And Nockatee made a little gasping jump on the bench they shared, and her hand gripped his – hers so tight and strong that his bones creaked upon each other, and he could feel all of her softening calluses. Her eyes were wide and aglow with hope, her mind afire now with new certainty – and new questions.

These are the words!” she whispered on a breath, holding them tightly within her, as a treasure.

 

There we have it – Nockatee has found her words, at last. But will she come to understand what they mean, and why they’re important?

For December,pick the WIP, and POV character! If you have a favorite, don’t be shy! Someone decides, and it could be you! This WIP is the default.

And here’s an excerpt just for Nockatee and Tisira:

Want more WIPpets? Click the cute little blue froggy to read and/or join in yourself!


It’s #WIPpet Wednesday !

 K.L.Schwengel’s brainchild encourages writers to move their WIPs (works-in-progress) to publication by posting excerpts related to the date.

WIPpet Math:

Today is December 18, 2013.

  • I added the month and the date: 12+18=30.
  • I then added the digits of the year: 2=0=1=3=6; 30+6=36.
  • I subtracted 2, for the number of weeks left to the year: 36-2=4.
  • Today’s offering is 34 sentences.

Eden Mabee offered a favorite for this week’s WIPpet Wednesday, so this week I offer a snippet of my Trueborn Weft series fantasy WIP, Chameleon’s Dish.

In the dangerously superstitious past of Shakespeare’s England, an amnesiac girl and a foundling boy must keep her strange nature hidden as they stalk her lost identity.

We rejoin Henry and his wild mate, Nockatee, at the White Hart Inn, in London, where they’ve gone to trade and to seek the words Nockatee feels hold the answer to the mystery of her identity.

This snippet occurs shortly after the events of my previous WIPpet, Tisira, Named. It’s the companion volume to Bounded by a Nutshell (Trueborn Warp Series Star Trek fan fiction.)

“Your friend is as fine a worker as ye, Henry lad.” Goodman Thomas was a round man given to cheery laughter; now he set steaming stale bread trenchers before them. Nockatee’s nose wrinkled as she scented the mutton stew, and then she licked her lips and set to. Henry slid a little ways down the bench from her; she had that look, almost, that she had when she savaged the rabbit.

Goodman Thomas backed off half a step, eyeing Nockatee warily. ” He wants table manners, though. Best ye eat offhours, lads, but if ye’ll sweep the dining room, wipe the tables, and clean the dinner pots, I will be sure that your goat has oats and a stall, and ye’ll have full porridge bowls, at fastbreaking.”

What say you, Nockatee?” But she only made a sound that might have been answer, or a snarl of warning. “I will haply work, Goodman Thomas, and I thank you most heartily for the kindness.”

The innkeeper shook his head and turned back to Henry rather than watch Nokatee attacking her meal.“Those dishes you brought with you, Henry lad. My wife favors them, and bid me offer you coin, and a room for the season, if you will sell them to us.”

“They are Nockatee’s dishes, and so it is -” he caught himself at the shadow of warning in her eyes and the stronger caution of her presence in his mind. A deep breath, and he said, carefully, “His choice.”

Mayhap it were better I ask later, then…when he is not eating.”

But Nockatee, ever full of surprises, had another. She set aside her spoon, sipped the wetted flat beer with a wrinkled nose, and then said,”I will sell them – Henry, will you set the price? I know little enough of that manner of trading.” And then she went back to the trencher, as though she would not stop until there was nary a crumb remaining for the roaches to feed upon.

Later, when the dishes had been unpacked in the serving nook, and the dining room and pots gleamed with care, they went to their tiny room up under the thatched eaves. 

There was a narrow ticking bed, which would demand that they sleep snuggled together, and a near as wide as the room opening above the courtyard, which was quiet with the night chill and the season. They opened it, and sat together on the bed before it, looking out.

This is the place where the play will be performed?” Nockatee’s voice was faraway, and her language strange in Henry’s ears, almost like when he had first found her there beneath that ancient pine. Aye, she was more Tisira now then his Nockatee, and there was something in it that clutched at his heart, for fear that he would lose her to that other, unknown life.

Aye. In this courtyard, and in others. We have coin enough to go to as many as it takes for you to hear your words.”

She nodded, and her lovely blue eyes reflected starlight as she gazed upon the heavens, her expression faraway. In his mind, too, she was – dimmer? – than she had been, earlier. Almost as if she were elsewhere – elsewhere, in the life Tisira had lived. But was there a place for him, in that other life?

He touched her hand, and, gently, stroked her presence in his mind. He only wanted her to know that he was with her, and would be, as the words they had spoken promised.

He held to a hope, as he curled into the bed, with her warmth against him, that whatever was of Tisira within her wanted to keep the promise his Nockatee had made.

There we have it – Henry and Nockatee have a room, and a plan to find her words. But will finding her identity mean the sacrifice of the life they now share?

For December,pick the WIP, and POV character! If you have a favorite, don’t be shy! Someone decides, and it could be you

Here’s a song for Henry,  Nockatee, and the shadowy presence of Tisira …

Want more WIPpets? Click the cute little blue froggy to read and/or join in yourself!


It’s #WIPpet Wednesday again!

The purpose ofK.L,Schwengel’s brainchild is to encourage writers to move their WIPs (works-in-progress) to publication by posting excerpts related to the date.

WIPpet Math:

Today is October 30, 2013.

  • For today’s offering, I’ve subtracted the month from the date (30-10=20).
  • Then I added two, for a Halloween treat!
  • You get 22 sentences today!

During October, I offer the paired volumes,Chameleon’s Dish (Trueborn Weft series), and Bounded by a Nutshell (Trueborn Warp series).

Chameleon’s Dish is my YA fantasy WIP. Here’s the logline I’ve created for it:

In the dangerously superstitious past of Shakespeare’s England, an amnesiac girl and a foundling boy must keep her strange nature hidden as they stalk her lost identity.

This week, Nockatee discovers a key to her forgotten identity – her name.

This rough-draft passage is lightly edited to remove obvious gaffes and for style.

Enjoy!

All of life was more beautiful. Henry was with her and within her. Father had mentioned the childbond, and how it was done, after the celebration of her last nameday. He had told her that it was to her to choose, at whatever time she was called to someone.

Almost, she could see his face, for a moment, but then there was only Henry, filling her senses.

And that was just as it should be, her spirit singing and dancing and getting all twisted up in his….

“Nockatee -“

“Tisira.”

The word hung between them, for a moment, and then a meaning attached itself to it. “That is my name, Henry. Tisira.”

“Tisira.” He echoed, and she could feel him tasting the flavor of it in his mind, comparing it to the name he had known her by. “It is a very comely name – but, if you will let me, I will still call you Nockatee. To me, that is a lovelier one – for it means you, to me.”

“You wanted to say something to me, Henry – before I remembered my name.”

“Just that I – love you, and I never knew I could be so close to anyone. You – you’ve changed everything.”

“Without you, Henry, I would likely have died. You have most certainly changed everything, for me.”

They were nearly into the outskirts of the city, now, and Henry stopped to adjust her kerchief. “I love your ears”, he said, “but I think they could lead to the sort of attention I don’t think you’ll want.”

 

There we have it – Nockatee is Tisira. What will be next, now that she knows her name? Will she regain all of her memories? Will she learn what she needs to know to stay safe in this time? Will she and Henry stay together?

No, I’m not telling you – not yet. There’ll be more of Henry and Nockatee’s adventures, eventually.

For Novenber, I will be giving Tisira and Henry a bit of privacy, and instead sharing brand-new excerpts from my NaNoWriMo WIP, King of Shreds and Patches.

Today, I offer another oldie, just for fun…. =)

And now – release the comment hounds ! =)

Want more WIPpets? Click the cute little blue froggy to read what other #WIPpeteers are writing, or to join in yourself! We love new folks, around here!

 



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