Because I'm busy ... an excerpt

Busy, lazy, maybe both. Either way, I'm posting an excerpt.

This is from the time-travel/historical fiction/romance story I'm currently revising. The main character has got determination in spades ...

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Akeva saw the clod of dirt coming and felt the slap as it hit. Tears squeezed out from under her right lid and streaked down her cheeks. She tried to blink her eye, she'd need the jaws of life to pry it open. With her other eye, she looked up at the sky and asked, “Really?”

A gust of wind pulled at her skirts and blew at her hair, as if the universe was answering her with a “Yes, really.” As if the universe could answer her. She laughed at her own craziness.

She fought the temptation to rub at her eye with her dirt and rust covered hands. The last thing she needed right now was to scratch her cornea. If she hadn’t forgotten to bring water, she could rinse out her eye.

She took a mental inventory and realized the only items she’d brought with her today that were of any use were her work-in-the-fields clothes, rough and dirty. She pushed out a sigh.

Using the hammer as a cane of sorts, she lowered herself to the ground. Akeva rubbed off as much junk from her hands as she could on the outer skirt. She carefully folded the skirt back on itself exposing the shift underneath. It reeked of days of sweat, but looked relatively free of dirt. She used it to wipe away the dirt from her eye. What else would go wrong today?

First she’d endured Meriel’s lecture about Akeva being part of the Faradoch den Beithe Cearcall family, how Akeva needed to help her family with the harvest, how she owed it to Meriel to stay away from the stones. Twinges of guilt still tried to poke through Akeva’s determination, but she ignored them now just as she did this morning.

Then she’d wandered around lost for who knew how long before she found the path to the hill. When she finally arrived at the stone circle, she could’ve killed Jean. The woman had to have known there was no way for the horse to make it up the rocky hill. Anger and determination had propelled Akeva up and down the craggy hillside with the rods and tools, until that last trip when she’d slipped down the hillside and twisted her ankle.

She’d tried to finish as much as she could before lunch, but the hobbling, digging, and hammering had left her with quite an appetite. So when she finally stopped for a bite to eat, with half the rods in the ground, Akeva could’ve kicked herself when she realized she’d forgotten to pack food and water in her haste to get to the circle. With nothing to do but get back to work, she hammered and wished for just one break.

Akeva hadn’t thought it had been too much to ask for. As she wiped the dirt and tears away from her eye, she wondered if it had.

Without a mirror, she couldn’t be sure she’d wiped all the dirt off her face, but figured it didn’t matter. It was the dirt left on the surface of her eye that was the problem. So much so that several minutes passed before she could open her eye. At least she only had one more rod to stake in the ground.

Off to the East, she noticed clouds. Nice, thick, dark ones, the kind that storms were made of. Were they really moving towards her? Akeva held her breath as she watched the clouds. Could her luck have changed?

She saw a light in the clouds, not a big one, but a flash none the less. “Perfect.”

The lightning kindled hope in her chest, a tiny spark right in that empty hole in her heart. Finally. The break she’d asked for.

How long until the storm hovered over the stone circle? Akeva had no way of knowing if it would be an hour or the rest of the day. At least the rods were in place to attract the lightning.

Rods. “Crap.” She still had one more to stake.

She pushed herself up and limped to the last rod, determined that a sprained ankle and a little bit of dirt weren’t getting the best of her. Several blows to the rod and it still hadn’t slipped into the ground like the others.

She’d planned to place the metal stakes in a small circle inside the standing stones. Akeva didn’t expect anyone to come looking at the circle, especially the way they all seemed to avoid even talking about them. But if they passed by, they wouldn’t see the spikes hiding in the inner shadow of the stones. However, her rod circle had to be big enough so she could stand in the center.

The ground in this area, closest to the hillside, consisted of that same rocky terrain she’d slipped on earlier. Not even the pick was going to help. At this point, it was better to have the thing in the ground than not: the more metal, the better. Still trying to keep the rods as evenly spaced as possible, she found a spot that looked softer. With the pick, she dug a hole deep enough that it should hold the rod.

Akeva didn’t know if it was it because this was the last rod, or if it was the one that didn’t fit her plan, but she knew she’d remember each lift of the pick, each eruption of dirt, the cold rod in her hand, the clang of each hammer blow, and the satisfaction of watching the rod inch down into the ground. Before she knew it, the rod stood on its own. With a few sweeps and pats of the pick to move the displaced dirt around the rod, she finished. Almost home.

She took a step back to inspect her work. So what if the rods stood at different heights and odd angles? “Not great, but good enough.” They didn’t need to be perfect to attract the lightning into the circle.

All she needed now was that storm. And she’d only be a lightning strike away.

A part of her worried she’d imagined the clouds or that they had disappeared. She glanced at the sky again and relief trickled over her skin. The approaching storm was still there. In fact, it had come closer. The lightning might arrive sooner than she’d hoped.

What a crazy thought: purposefully putting herself in the middle of a lightning storm. Goosebumps erupted on her skin, and not entirely from fear. If this worked…she didn’t even want to think about it in case she jinxed herself.

With nothing else to do until the storm arrived, she moved the hammer and pick to the side before she settled down in the center of her pseudo-circle.

To think, that on her way to the standing stones, she’d started to doubt her plan. Now with the storm approaching, if she’d given up, she would’ve missed this opportunity. Maybe the universe was talking to her.

Now that she’d sat down to wait, the clouds had stopped their advance towards her. Akeva figured it was because now she had nothing else to occupy her mind but to count the seconds until she felt that first raindrop, the first tingle that foreshadowed that something was about to send her home.

Minutes passed and boredom set in, but determination kept her inside the two circles. She studied the sparse grass, the rusty rods, the stone circle rocks, her filthy dress, her swollen ankle, her chipped fingernails, and of course, the oncoming clouds until she couldn’t study them any more. She wished she’d brought something to read, some food and drink, and a pillow. The ground, while soft enough to place the rods, was still hard, especially while waiting for who knew how long.

With nothing else to occupy it, her mind filled with questions. What if today’s attempt didn’t work? How many storms would she race to the stone circle so she wouldn’t miss her chance to get back home? Was there a way to forecast the storms? If her computer still worked, could she have created a forecasting model? Why was the storm taking so long?

In all her planning, she’d ignored an important fact which now smacked her in the face. Mother Nature, no matter the place or era, would take her own time. The most important aspect of her plan to get back home was completely and utterly out of her control.

She hadn’t let Meriel or Ennis stop her. Getting lost hadn’t been a detriment, nor a sprained ankle or a nearly scratched cornea. Mother Nature could take her time. Akeva would keep coming back if need be, she was getting back home and to her family.

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#FridayFlash - Found

A very short version of what I originally planned. And mostly the last one for a while. Enjoy...


Brian Rose tightened the strap on his horse again. Delaying again, get on with it, man.

He’d arrived at Faradoch den Beithe three days ago, prolonging his absence from home further by calling on his cousin, Meriel, and her family. That he would put up with Meriel’s insufferable husband, Ennis, was proof that he’d do just about anything to postpone dealing with his mother.

He checked his bags again.

A voice called from outside the barn. Glad for the interruption, he left his horse saddled and walked outside. 

An unfamiliar voice said, “Finally.” Brian turned towards the voice and nearly bumped into a bonny lass, her shapely form clearly outlined in a soiled, sleeveless shirt and breeches that left her legs bare.

Her green eyes opened in surprise, then her face lit up with relief. She reached out  to him, about to say something, then fainted. He lunged to catch her before she crashed to the ground.

After wrestling off her black bag, he laid her on the ground. Searching for wounds, he found dirt, scratches, and bruises. Blue-black bruises, framed with yellow that blanketed every part of her, even her face. How could anyone deliver blows to leave marks such as these?

Beads of sweat formed on her skin, yet her forehead felt cool to the touch. She needed help. Brian scooped up the lass and her satchel, then trekked back to the house.

Brian glanced down at the limp body in his arms, he’d covered her with his kilt to give her protection from any curious onlookers they might encounter. The few strips of her clothing barely covered her, leaving nothing to the imagination about her womanly curves. Why was she no wearing skirts like a respectable lass?

Her exposed legs and form fitting clothing weren’t the most shocking things about this stranger, nor the way she had literally dropped into his arms. Brian was not a squeamish person, but the sight of her bruises turned his stomach.

#FridayFlash - Lightning

More #fridayflash for you. Enjoy...

"One Mississippi, two Mississippi, three--," Akeva winced as the deafening boom rattled her bones. Arizona monsoon clouds loomed overhead, she hadn't realized the storm was that close. Five Mississippis closer than her last count a few minutes ago. Shit.

Of course the storm traveled much faster than her, it didn't have to rely on legs to get through a mini-obstacle course. Unless by some miracle, she wasn't going to reach the safety of her car, which was about five miles away, before the worst of the storm hit.

But she kept running over rust-colored dirt and past twisted juniper trees. It wasn't like she could stop and take cover. Where would she hide from the marble sized raindrops that pelted her skin out in the middle of the Sedona desert? Plus, she couldn't run too fast otherwise one of those loose, rocks that littered the ground would leave her limping back to her car or unable to walk at all.

Never mind her backpack, or the things inside it; too much bumping and her electronics would be toast. At least the bag would keep them dry, or mostly dry. Akeva didn't want to contemplate buying all new electronics just before starting grad school. So, she ran holding her pack straps tight, trying to minimize the damage to her precious cargo. Fortunately, there wasn't anyone around to witness her running like a dork.

Water dripped freely down her face. Any other time she'd enjoy the dusty smell of the rain, even try to photograph some lightning strikes. Not now. Frequent lightning strikes lit the sky and the dark desert, while thunder echoed off the rocks and the rain fell in earnest now.


Definitely not a good situation - rain, lightning, no shelter, and electronics.

"Idiot."

Akeva couldn't believe she'd ignored the signs and kept photographing. If she'd heeded the waiter's advice this morning, she'd be nice and safe in the hotel room or in her car driving to California. He'd warned her about monsoon storms, how they would sneak up and cause havoc, spawning deadly flash floods that took people by surprise. But she'd lost focus of everything except for the majestic Bell Rock. She'd filled nearly all her memory cards trying to capture the beauty of the magnificent rock formation.

And now, she was paying the price.

She ran past a small gully, thankful it hadn't started to run with water, and berated herself. She should've kept driving to San Francisco instead of detouring to Sedona to photograph the area. But how could she have driven so close and not tried to emulate all those gorgeous photos she'd seen on the internet? She'd reasoned a day trip wouldn't affect her plans much, just one day less in Berkeley to find an apartment. Her soon to be new roommate, LeeAnn, had totally understood, had even encouraged her to make the side trip.

Another blinding flash. "One Mississippi, t--,"

The world turned bright and everything shimmered. Akeva wasn't sure why her body began to tingle, but she knew she had to get to shelter. Now.

She released her pack and ran full out. It was her life or her electronics, she chose life.

The tingling in her body intensified with the each lightning strike, like the storm was causing the strange sensation running through her body. If she wasn't running for her life, she would have laughed at the insane idea.

She still couldn't see the road. How much further was it?

Another fear gripped Akeva. What if in her hurry to get out of the storm, she'd gone the wrong direction?

She stopped and glanced over her shoulder. Bell Rock loomed over her, but--

A brilliant, white flash blinded her as pain incinerated her body, then everything went black.

Super Brief Excerpt

I'm posting a paragraph that I wrote today because I haven't put any of my WIP here yet. And since I like to have a weekly post, this seemed like an interesting thing to do this week. The excerpt isn't especially witty or my final version, but it clicked with me. And I suppose it's because, in a sense, it is me.

When Diana Gabaldon said that her characters are her, or at least a part of her, I understood it at an intellectual level. After all, the author creates the characters, so they are part of the writer's imagination. But after writing and re-reading some of today's words, I really get it. Writers pull some aspect of the character out of themselves for all to see. Holly Lisle says that she can tell what an author was dealing with at the time they wrote their book, that it comes out in the characters' actions and themes of the book.

I'm not sure what this scene says about me at this moment, but I know it is reminiscent of me at other times. "Write what you know," they say. Well, I did - me.


A little background for this scene ... my main character, Akeva, is frustrated and angry because she wants to go back and face the danger that is coming for her. The other character volunteered to keep her safe and away from where the danger will come looking for her.

Hope you like.