Here are the rules:
1) Go to page 77 of your current WIP.
2) Go to line 7.
3) Copy down the next seven sentences, lines, paragraphs (I've seen it done many ways).
4) Tag 7 other authors.
5) Let them know.
I've elected to post seven paragraphs per item 3) above. Please be forewarned, there is very adult content here. I even had to change my blog's settings for mature content. This is from my upcoming first book of a trilogy on Atlantis. The current working title is Before Atlantis: From Mediterranean to Mesopotamia.
“How to service me.”
Her will rose to the surface, wanting to do something
violent to this man to protect her freedom, but she forced her docile
expression to stay fixed. “I am a
seeress of my people, not a whore, Yemeni, although I know there are followers
of this army who are very well versed in the art of servicing men of your
tastes.” She wanted to suggest he summon
one of them, but held her tongue. The violence in his expression spiked and she
was treated to another slap across the face, opening up her lip. She tasted her own blood, but didn’t wipe it
from her face as she looked up at him with childlike hurt in her
expression. “None of them look as fresh and rare as you, woman,” he said, his voice dripping with contentment with the blood on her face.
She bowed her head feigning her acceptance of her fate. “Will I be yours alone or shared by all the men?” she asked in a meek voice.
Yemeni looked at the men who brought her in and ordered them out to guard the entrance to the tent. Inwardly she grinned in triumphant. He came closer to her and grabbed her hair to pull her up. The pain that lanced through her skull was intense and caused her muscles to clench and try to curl away only to cause her more pain in her neck and shoulders as he nearly dragged her to a pallet with cushions adorning it. He threw her on the cushions and began to peel off his robes. She sent a quick inner probe to ensure her child was safe, then rose to her knees and grinned at him.
Yemeni paused in removing his breeches at her strange smile. She curled a beckoning finger to him. Surprised, he moved closer and she put her hands on his thighs, ignoring the throbbing member jutting up at her from his breeches that still required removal. Her blue eyes bore into his. Suddenly, he collapsed beside her. Sighing, she rubbed her head at the ache and felt new warmth on her upper lip. Swiping at her nose, she discovered by the red smear on her wrist that blood was dripping from it. She sighed. Too much power use for her body. She will be helpless soon. She ripped Yemeni’s robes into strips and bound him. After ensuring his bonds were sufficient, she touched his temples and infiltrated his mind, trying to find something good to work from.
Ashur was in no
condition to give commands. No nightly
attack would happen. No one wished to
risk harming Nimuan while she was in the enemy camp and Ashur was coaxed away
from the front line by his mother in the early morning hours. She took him home and managed to get him to
sit on his pallet in his room. She fixed
him some tea and brought it to him, startled to find him in the exact place and
position she left him in. Light was
beginning to brighten the sky as she knelt before him and cupped a hand to the
cup she handed him that steamed. His
grip took the stone cup, but he simply held it.
Now for the seven nominees. So many have already received this wonderfully fun award, so it will be a difficult choice.
1. Rose Pressey
2. Angela Wallace
3. Amaleen Ison
4. Kait Nolan
5. Michelle Krys
6. Jackie Miller
7. M.E. Franco
If it seems random, it was. I tried to go through my Twitter follower list and looked at a bunch of you to see if you have 1) a blog and 2) not received this award yet. I'm looking forward to seeing what those lucky 7 have for their WIP excerpts.
Happy Reading!
