Post by Lora Palmer on Jul 23, 2022 7:45:58 GMT -5
(Hi, all! I've started writing Everbloom and have a draft of chapter 1. I'd love feedback, and if anyone's at that point in a new WIP and interested in a CP or beta reader, maybe we could do a chapter swap to get our novels completed and query ready).
The sun targets my back like a laser beam as I traipse through a clearing in the woods to my favorite spot by the river. It’s so peaceful here. A gentle wind sways the tree branches. Birds sing overhead, mingling with the rush of water as I approach. Small forest animals play nearby, not shying away at the presence of a human in their territory. A rabbit hops to the water’s edge to take a drink. Squirrels chitter as they chase each other up a tree. Well, I feed them often enough, so they’ve grown used to me. I plop onto a log the width of a tree trunk, which indeed it is. A storm last year brought it down as if wanting to give me the perfect spot to read. I open my latest treasure, a red leather-bound first edition of The Red and the Black. It sounded like an intriguing read. I’m supposed to be learning history this afternoon, so this book should count. Before my eager hands have a chance to open it to the page I bookmarked, footsteps crunch behind me. I hide the book inside my denim jacket.
“There you are.” Aunt Magnolia leans against a tree, aviator sunglasses shielding her blue eyes. Sometime after lunch, she’s piled her blond hair, the same color as mine, into a messy bun at the nape of her neck. A flowy, floral maxi dress swirls around her sandaled feet in the wind.
“Yes,” I say, huffing flyaway strands of hair, which have grown too long, out of my eyes. “Where else would I go if I’m not at home?”
“We need to talk.” She lifts her sunglasses to rest atop her head, meeting my wary gaze with a steadfast resolve.
I groan. “No. Aunt Mags, no. I like it here.”
She purses her lips, but the sympathy in her eyes tells me she doesn’t like this any better than I do. “So do I, Lark, but we’ve stayed in Kentucky too long already.”
“Why do we have to do this every year?” I swing my legs off the log so I’m standing now, hands on hips. If only I could stare her down hard enough to change her mind. She’s ten years older than me, but you’d never know it to look at her. She could pass for eighteen. Actually, she stopped aging at eighteen like the rest of the women in our family. Just like I will on my next birthday. “The BloodSlayers haven’t found us since they killed Mom —“
My voice catches, and the tension around her eyes softens. Tears she won’t let fall shine in her eyes. Aunt Magnolia is Mom’s sister, and she lost her as much as I did if not more. She reaches out to take my hands in hers. “We got too lax. That’s why they found us. If we move around, we stand a chance.”
“I know. It sucks, is all. Of all the places we’ve found, we have it the best here. We’re close enough to pick up anything we need from the stores, and none of them have cameras. The BloodSlayers can’t track us. How will we have it better anywhere else?”
The sun targets my back like a laser beam as I traipse through a clearing in the woods to my favorite spot by the river. It’s so peaceful here. A gentle wind sways the tree branches. Birds sing overhead, mingling with the rush of water as I approach. Small forest animals play nearby, not shying away at the presence of a human in their territory. A rabbit hops to the water’s edge to take a drink. Squirrels chitter as they chase each other up a tree. Well, I feed them often enough, so they’ve grown used to me. I plop onto a log the width of a tree trunk, which indeed it is. A storm last year brought it down as if wanting to give me the perfect spot to read. I open my latest treasure, a red leather-bound first edition of The Red and the Black. It sounded like an intriguing read. I’m supposed to be learning history this afternoon, so this book should count. Before my eager hands have a chance to open it to the page I bookmarked, footsteps crunch behind me. I hide the book inside my denim jacket.
“There you are.” Aunt Magnolia leans against a tree, aviator sunglasses shielding her blue eyes. Sometime after lunch, she’s piled her blond hair, the same color as mine, into a messy bun at the nape of her neck. A flowy, floral maxi dress swirls around her sandaled feet in the wind.
“Yes,” I say, huffing flyaway strands of hair, which have grown too long, out of my eyes. “Where else would I go if I’m not at home?”
“We need to talk.” She lifts her sunglasses to rest atop her head, meeting my wary gaze with a steadfast resolve.
I groan. “No. Aunt Mags, no. I like it here.”
She purses her lips, but the sympathy in her eyes tells me she doesn’t like this any better than I do. “So do I, Lark, but we’ve stayed in Kentucky too long already.”
“Why do we have to do this every year?” I swing my legs off the log so I’m standing now, hands on hips. If only I could stare her down hard enough to change her mind. She’s ten years older than me, but you’d never know it to look at her. She could pass for eighteen. Actually, she stopped aging at eighteen like the rest of the women in our family. Just like I will on my next birthday. “The BloodSlayers haven’t found us since they killed Mom —“
My voice catches, and the tension around her eyes softens. Tears she won’t let fall shine in her eyes. Aunt Magnolia is Mom’s sister, and she lost her as much as I did if not more. She reaches out to take my hands in hers. “We got too lax. That’s why they found us. If we move around, we stand a chance.”
“I know. It sucks, is all. Of all the places we’ve found, we have it the best here. We’re close enough to pick up anything we need from the stores, and none of them have cameras. The BloodSlayers can’t track us. How will we have it better anywhere else?”
