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

Tag Archives: Shakespeare

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!”





It’s #WIPpet Wednesday again!

The purpose of  K.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 August 14, 2013.

  • For today’s offering, I’ve subtracted the digits of the month from the date, and added the digits of the year. (14-8+2+0+1+3=12).
  • Therefore, you get 12 short paragraphs today!

During August and September, I am focusing on editing the paired volumes,Chameleon’s Dish (Trueborn Weft series), and Bounded by a Nutshell (Trueborn Warp series).

Chameleon’s Dish is my August 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, we will officially meet Henry, an English boy who happens upon a strange young girl while hunting upon common lands. Watching her reveals secret riddles that may forever change his life.

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

And now, please allow me to (re)introduce Henry, a young orphaned boy who discovers that reality is not just as he thought..



She stayed as she was a moment more, before fixing her gaze on the water in a way that bespoke a wildcat far more than a faerie. Then she leapt lightly from her place to crouch upon a sunwarmed rock, and went still – still in a way that Henry knew he could not, even with a lifetime to practice it. His pride in his own stillness faded – she was as the trees, or the rock beneath her…

After the sinking sun had moved nearly to the edge of the bank, she brought her hands up to her head, where a long strand of ebon hair had fallen into her face. She pulled it back, and with a twisting motion, she secured it all in a knot at the nape of her neck.


And Henry bit his lip hard to keep from gasping at the sight of her delicately pointed ear…an ear that said, beyond all doubting, now, that she was not as he was, that she was not a girl as he was a boy…not human.


It terrified him, and excited him, to have this sudden proof that such things did exist, and he wondered what manner of fey creature this was. Or was she a witchling, else demon-spawned?


He could not think so, watching her watch the water, leaning carefully forward so that she could see, but not so far that she cast any shadow below. No, she did not have the feel of wrongness about her. Otherness, for certain, and he would not deny that. Yet, still- she belonged to wild places, was a part of them. Henry could feel that, too.


But would Satan announce the guise he used to steal souls?


He wanted to go, to flee from her and what she meant, to pretend that he had seen no such creature, that he was just as he had been when he set out this morning.


But he knew that he would not leave while he could see her. He could not; he was ensorceled by her…no, there was no leaving her. He knew he would follow her, if he could, and learn all he could of her.


The girlchild-creature began to – to become something else, something that came in bits and pieces, stuttering forward only to retreat again, and then the other way, until, at last –


An animal that looked very like a young lynx kit crouched, slowly sinking belly to rock, so slowly lifting a paw, holding, motionless, as the sun dropped lower, drawing shadows over the water…


The paw shot out, the body uncoiled, and, before Henry was fully aware of her motion, she had flipped a leaping fish up out of the water, bitten through its backbone, and tossed it behind her on the bank, settling at once back to wait, as though she had not moved…


But she still wore the shape of a lynx as other girls wore dresses, and the fish was there behind her on the rock, twisting in its death dance.

There we have it – theree’s something strange re in these he woods. What’s next? Well, some of it I’ve shared, and more will be forthcoming, – but, remember, everything is subject to change! =D

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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