Getting published...
Aug. 31st, 2005 05:49 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lady_kareliaBig big big congratulations to the Lady Joyous!!! She is now a published author. For more info, go here: http://www.authorhouse.com/BookStore/ItemDetail~bookid~33925.aspx
I highly recommend this work, especially if you like Fantasy. Leah stood facing Conor, Jessalyn and three other recruits – the best fighters in their respective classes. They all wore mail shirts and breastplates, and bore real swords. Leah was the only who also had a shield. She appeared relaxed as she worked her sword arm, flexing her fingers. Her friends on the other hand were still clearly struggling to get over their surprise of Fredrik instructing them to attack her. Simultaneously.
Nadeen and Artur sat silently on the raised rim encircling the compound, along with their friends and the other recruits, obviously worried.
Their master stepped back. “Whenever you’re ready…”
Instantly Leah’s demeanour changed. Concentration sharpened her expression. Her body seemed to coil in on itself, ready to be unleashed. The others slowly began to circle her, swords at the ready. Leah didn’t wait for them to attack. She darted towards the recruit closest to her. He brought his sword down to block her. She turned slightly, hit his arm with her shield instead. With a cry he dropped his sword.
She used both sword and shield. To thrust. Parry. Dodge. Strike. Her moves were confident. Graceful.
Jessalyn locked swords with Leah who leaned against her, forcing her back. She kicked the other’s foot out from under her. With a cry of surprise, Jessalyn stumbled to her knee. Leah rested her sword against the other’s armoured breast, signalling her triumph. Then ducked and danced to the side, barely escaping Conor’s sword.
They circled one another, Leah and Conor, the only ones left standing. A lop-sided grin hinted at Conor’s supreme confidence in his abilities. The confidence that left him in no doubt he was the better fighter.
Leah gritted her teeth. She still cared for him. But, goddess help her, at this precise moment she wanted to hurt him, humiliate him. She dropped her shield and kicked it away. Not once did her steely gaze leave his face. His grin faltered, hinting at doubt possibly stifling his confidence.
Leah launched herself at him. He stumbled back. Blocked her attack. She didn’t pause. Didn’t slow down. Baring her teeth in grim determination, sword clenched in a two-handed grip, she slashed repeatedly at Conor, forcing him back.
A stinging cut to the cheek and Conor cried out. Staggering back, his hand shot up to touch the wound on his cheek. His fingers came away, wet with blood.
Leah darted forward, grabbed his wrist in a vice-like grip. Twisted. Not waiting to see if would drop his sword, her knee shot up to connect harshly with his groin.
For a split second his blue eyes widened, riveted to her face. Then his sword fell from his loosened grip. Slowly he crumpled next to it, clutching himself… moaning.
Panting heavily, Leah stepped back, the anger slowly seeping out of her, calming her expression. When she faced the shocked recruits, most of the men were grimacing in sympathy with Conor.
Fredrik got to his feet, eyeing her bemusedly. “That… I did not teach you.”
Leah shrugged. “I improvised.”
As he walked past her to Conor, he frowned. His gaze lit on Conor, flicked towards Leah before settling back on the groaning youth; his frown deepened.
Someone started to clap. Surprised, Leah turned to where Jessalyn stood. A broad smile on her face she continued to applaud. Karamay and Karel both got to their feet and took up the applause. Within minutes the entire body of recruits were showing their admiration. Swallowing past the sudden lump in her throat, Leah bowed stiffly.
So now we know it's possible to become a published author. Thanks, Lady_J, your well-deserved success will no doubt inspire many of us to keep writing! {{{{Hugs}}}}
I highly recommend this work, especially if you like Fantasy. Leah stood facing Conor, Jessalyn and three other recruits – the best fighters in their respective classes. They all wore mail shirts and breastplates, and bore real swords. Leah was the only who also had a shield. She appeared relaxed as she worked her sword arm, flexing her fingers. Her friends on the other hand were still clearly struggling to get over their surprise of Fredrik instructing them to attack her. Simultaneously.
Nadeen and Artur sat silently on the raised rim encircling the compound, along with their friends and the other recruits, obviously worried.
Their master stepped back. “Whenever you’re ready…”
Instantly Leah’s demeanour changed. Concentration sharpened her expression. Her body seemed to coil in on itself, ready to be unleashed. The others slowly began to circle her, swords at the ready. Leah didn’t wait for them to attack. She darted towards the recruit closest to her. He brought his sword down to block her. She turned slightly, hit his arm with her shield instead. With a cry he dropped his sword.
She used both sword and shield. To thrust. Parry. Dodge. Strike. Her moves were confident. Graceful.
Jessalyn locked swords with Leah who leaned against her, forcing her back. She kicked the other’s foot out from under her. With a cry of surprise, Jessalyn stumbled to her knee. Leah rested her sword against the other’s armoured breast, signalling her triumph. Then ducked and danced to the side, barely escaping Conor’s sword.
They circled one another, Leah and Conor, the only ones left standing. A lop-sided grin hinted at Conor’s supreme confidence in his abilities. The confidence that left him in no doubt he was the better fighter.
Leah gritted her teeth. She still cared for him. But, goddess help her, at this precise moment she wanted to hurt him, humiliate him. She dropped her shield and kicked it away. Not once did her steely gaze leave his face. His grin faltered, hinting at doubt possibly stifling his confidence.
Leah launched herself at him. He stumbled back. Blocked her attack. She didn’t pause. Didn’t slow down. Baring her teeth in grim determination, sword clenched in a two-handed grip, she slashed repeatedly at Conor, forcing him back.
A stinging cut to the cheek and Conor cried out. Staggering back, his hand shot up to touch the wound on his cheek. His fingers came away, wet with blood.
Leah darted forward, grabbed his wrist in a vice-like grip. Twisted. Not waiting to see if would drop his sword, her knee shot up to connect harshly with his groin.
For a split second his blue eyes widened, riveted to her face. Then his sword fell from his loosened grip. Slowly he crumpled next to it, clutching himself… moaning.
Panting heavily, Leah stepped back, the anger slowly seeping out of her, calming her expression. When she faced the shocked recruits, most of the men were grimacing in sympathy with Conor.
Fredrik got to his feet, eyeing her bemusedly. “That… I did not teach you.”
Leah shrugged. “I improvised.”
As he walked past her to Conor, he frowned. His gaze lit on Conor, flicked towards Leah before settling back on the groaning youth; his frown deepened.
Someone started to clap. Surprised, Leah turned to where Jessalyn stood. A broad smile on her face she continued to applaud. Karamay and Karel both got to their feet and took up the applause. Within minutes the entire body of recruits were showing their admiration. Swallowing past the sudden lump in her throat, Leah bowed stiffly.
So now we know it's possible to become a published author. Thanks, Lady_J, your well-deserved success will no doubt inspire many of us to keep writing! {{{{Hugs}}}}
