Ruth Ellen Parlour's Blog, page 14

Earth Angel Deleted Scene 04

The Earth Angel blog tour is still running! Hop over to Tamara Morning’s blog later on for a guest post for tips on writing romance.

Meanwhile…

This scene is from chapter 6 – Firestorm. In the original draft it was Oz and Gabrielle who came out of the woods and Chetto came from the town. With the time scale I was working to, it would be impossible for Oz and Gab to make it to each local in one day so they had to be cut from the chapter. I was also working with too many different perspectives and had to cut them down. No spoilers. Enjoy!

*Warning. Scenes were deleted before the final edits and may contain errors and inconsistencies.*

Chetto was hungry. He had spent all his money on the return journey but it had only got him as far as Vaandore. He’d have to borrow, beg and steal his way back to Kimblestone. It was market day in Vaandore; however the town was not exactly as bustling and busy as those of Belltaine where he had come to call home. There’d be no rummaging around in bins for scraps today.

Vaandore was a typical small town. It had everything it needed to be self-sufficient on a small scale. It had farms and mills on the outside and on the inside, surrounded by a tall stone wall were houses, shops, the town hall and the market on a circular piazza.

In Belltaine, Chetto had become a welcomed addition to a large band of alley cats; however, being half human sometimes it was difficult to remain inconspicuous. Chetto was tall as humans go, even for his race, although he always said there was cheetah blood in his veins. His face was like a cheetah cub, with tough mottled fur, black lines and large cheeky eyes. He was a greater Hybrid; bipedal with paws, tail, fur, and the lot. His hair was thin around his torso but he never wore clothes; clothes were for humans and lesser hybrids, so he claimed.

He skulked around the edges of the market, his keen eyes scanning the stalls for a succulent meal to satisfy his mumbling stomach. People would notice him, there were never many hybrids in small towns, but he needed food to get back. His eyes were drawn to the meat market as his nose caught the scent. There was a mix of poultry; duck, chicken and turkey, all still had their soft feathers. They were piled in open boxes with prices scribbled on a chalk board. A brace of Rabbits hung from the frame of the stall by the neck, their eyes dull as stone.

Chetto made his way through the people and parked himself beside a large stack of crates. He knew what he wanted, the largest one, doesn’t matter what it was.

People’s hands were reaching across, their fingers pointing, ‘I want that one… two of those…’ There was one man attending the stall. Chetto would not wait long. When the man’s back was turned he reached out and drove his four claws into a fat hen, lifted it, took it and walked off. If people had noticed they did not care, Hybrids are dangerous.

Chetto did not stop until he was out of sight of the market. He sat under the bows of an oak tree and cradling his prize began riving the feathers in a flurry of claws. At the first sight of peachy flesh he drove his teeth through the skin, relishing the cold taste on his dry tongue. He pulled every scrap from every bone and licked it clean, licked his paws and licked his face. His stomach was more than satisfied. He leaned back, extracting small portions from between sharp teeth. He was about ready for a nap.

As the hybrid’s mind started to wander, an unexpected noise disturbed the air. He opened his eyes to see a man stumble through the gates and into town. Blood smeared half of his face and he walked with a painful limp.

‘Help!’ he called. Chetto shuffled around the tree and out of sight as the man wandered into the centre of town where a guard came rushing to his side.

‘It’s coming! I’ve seen it. You need to hide,’ the traveller was babbling as the guard helped him limp away. Chetto took no notice and gently closed his eyes again, feeling the warmth of the sun’s rays.

Chetto didn’t know how long he snoozed for but he woke aggravated. The air had chilled and the first raindrop splashed his nose. I’m not going to sleep in the rain! He thought.

Just then, a man and a woman rushed in through the gate past the tree, their voices were hurried. Chetto let his thoughts stray to the injured man who had wandered in earlier and wondered what was going on. Chetto decided not to pursue the matter. But as he nearly drifted off again he was disturbed by a fluster of colour and hair. The movement attracted his attention, the flourish of vibrant energy, the shape and form he knew he recognised. As he woke fully the figure had disappeared. He needed to see this. After a good stretch he got to his feet and peered into the village.

Zenovia?

Earth Angel is only £1 on Amazon UK/$0.99 Amazon US

$0.99 on Smashwords!

Blog Tour Mayhem!

It’s the beginning of the Earth Angel blog tour! Join the first stop at Clare Davidson’s blog for a character interview with two quirky blokes, Dogga and Oz.

Meanwhile here on this blog I welcome Clare Davidson on her blog tour for her young adult fantasy Trinity. If you liked Earth Angel, you’ll love Trinity (and vice versa.) I interviewed two of Clare’s characters, Kiana and Skaric, but first read the blurb of Trinity.

Kiana longs to walk through a forest and feel grass between her toes. But she is the living embodiment of a goddess and has enemies who wish to murder her. Her death will curse the whole of Gettryne. Locked away for protection, she dreams of freedom. Her wish comes true in the worst possible way, when her home and defenders are destroyed. Along with an inexperienced guard and a hunted outcast, Kiana flees the ravages of battle to search for a solution to the madness that has gripped Gettryne for a thousand years. Pursued by the vicious and unrelenting Wolves, their journey will take them far beyond their limits, to a secret that will shake the world.

And now to the interview. First up is Kiana!

Hello Kiana! Pleased to meet you.

What was life like growing up in Blackoak tower? Was it difficult being surrounded by Guardian’s all the time or could you have fun with them too?

It wasn’t difficult being surrounded by Guardians; they were fun. They always found ways to amuse me as I was growing up, like playing dice games and telling me stories.

On the other hand, Ducarius was less fun. It was all work and study with him.

I still miss him, though. I miss them all.

Oh and pleased to meet you, by the way. Sorry, I’m not very good in social situations!

That’s ok! Did you have a favourite subject to study?

I enjoyed learning about all the towns in Gettryne and seeing drawings of animals and plants.

I liked drawing as well.

What is your earliest memory?

Sitting on Marcas’ shoulders as he galloped around my rooms. I think I was three or four, but I’m not sure. I laughed until my stomach hurt.

Aww, that sounds lovely. Marcas must have been like a father to you?

Yes. Of all my Guardians, he was there the longest. right from the start, I think. Then he got promoted and I didn’t get to see as much of him.

What was the greatest thing he taught you or you learned from him as a father figure?

To be myself. I mean… to be Kiana, rather than just the incarnation of Miale. He helped me work out who I was. Does that make sense?

Yes of course, it’s important to be your own person, not just a figurehead.

Who raised you? Was it just your guardians or did you have a mother figure in your childhood?

Not really. I grew up with Erynn, who became my handmaid once I was too old to be helped to bathe and dress by my Guardians.

Was she more like a friend or were you closer than that?

She was my friend, but there was always a sense that I was different. That increased as we got older. I think she was intimidated because I was the incarnation of Miale; she couldn’t see past that.

That’s not very fair of me. I don’t think I could see past it either.

It must have been a difficult thing to live with. What did you think of Nidan when you first met him? How did your relationship change throughout your journey?

He was awkward and nervous, but that was Finn’s fault! I wasn’t much better, I prattled at him and didn’t let him get a word in. When the Wolves attacked, I was surprised at how well he held it together. How calm and supportive he was. He’s like a brother to me now.

You convinced Nidan to save the life of a Wolf even though that man had a hand in killing your Guardians. How did you feel about the Wolf? Did you hate him at any point?

No, I didn’t hate him. I probably should have done, considering everything. When I saw him and realised he was alive… it felt completely wrong to leave him to suffer and die. I know that’s probably hard to understand.

People suffering is very difficult to witness and it was very brave of you to see past his actions and save his life. Why did you decide to trust the Wolf?

It was obvious that he was conflicted and hurting – emotionally, I mean. He didn’t understand why our people had hated each other for a thousand years, any more than I did. He wasn’t what I expected a Wolf to be. He wasn’t a monster.

Thank you Kiana! And now it’s time for Skaric.

Greetings Skaric! Pleased to meet you.

What was life like growing up as the Alpha’s son? Did he have high expectations for your future and were you put under a lot of pressure?

Hello.

High expectations? Pressure? You could say that. My father is one of the greatest warriors currently alive in the Wolves. All the Alpha’s have been great warriors. I wasn’t

Was your father disappointed you didn’t become a warrior or happy you became a nyxus (mage)?

If he was proud of my accomplishments as a nyxus, he didn’t show it. He didn’t disown me, either. I strove to be the best son I could.

Did you actually want to be a nyxus or was it just your only option? Would you have rather been something else if you had the choice?

There were no other choices for me. If I hadn’t been the son of the Alpha, I might have chosen to become a healer. That’s fairly ironic, considering the nyxii do nothing but kill.

You must heal your own men though, you learned field medicine didn’t you?

Yes. I can clean, stitch and dress wounds. Warrior or nyxii, it doesn’t matter, we all learn basic field medicine. It’s necessary to stay alive when we live in harsh conditions and we are frequently engaged in conflict with our enemies. I was surprised that the Guardians weren’t similarly trained.

The Guardians use Pios magic to heal. Are the wolves envious of this magic or did they believe power lies in destruction?

We used to have Pios’ magic, too, before he stripped it from us. The Guardians have an unfair advantage.

They can’t use your magic though. You could kill them before they get a chance to heal themselves. Like when you attacked the tower.

I doubt they’d want to use our magic. Yes, the nyxii killed scores of Guardians at Blackoak Tower, but we paid a high price for it. Pios’ magic costs the Guardians nothing.

If our magic really gave us the edge over the Guardians, we wouldn’t have spent a thousand years skulking in inhospitable mountains.

Their magic is for good, yours is only desctructive. Don’t you think the price is fair?

Do you? *sighs* My people would have been wiped out. We had no choice but to embrace destructive magic. It was our only chance of survival. Besides… we had to make our enemies pay. At least… that’s what I was always told growing up.

Did you ever question the motives of your people?

Not out loud.

How did you feel about sacrificing your own men?

Like a murderer. I hated myself. I’d appreciate it if your next question wasn’t: “so why did you do it?”

I’ll move on then

Thank you.

Do you have a mother? If so what was she like, was she happy you became a nyxus?

No, she wasn’t happy I became a nyxus. She would never have admitted that to my father. I knew. She had no say in it. *looks away* Women… don’t have much sway or power within the Wolves.

I see. You are an only child?

Yes. An only child and a disappointment. I think father would have been happier if he’d sired Berend.

He never wanted you dead though, even when you left. That must mean something?

Yes. It does. I wish I understood him better.

What changed to make you turn your back on your people?

Two things: I couldn’t face death. All my life I believed I would die in Ysia’s name, fighting our enemies. When it came to it… I was terrified. I realised I couldn’t do it. Then there was Kiana. Her insane compassion… she should have ordered her Guardian to kill me. I deserved it. But she didn’t. She had him save me.

You were brought up to hate the Goddess Miale but what was going through your mind when she made her Guardian heal you? Did you still want her dead?

I tried to make myself believe that I still wanted her dead. I tried to summon the will to use my magic to destroy her then and there. It would have killed me, but it’s what I should have done. I couldn’t. Afterwards, I wanted to hate her, but I couldn’t do that either.

Thank you Skaric. Is there anything you want to add?

Only that I wouldn’t want to be interrogated by you! You ask some tough questions.

Sorry! I felt myself get a bit carried away with the questions.

If the interview has captured your imagination, Trinity is available to buy (paperback and ebook) on;

Amazon (paperback)

Amazon (kindle)

Smashwords (other e-formats)

I had so much fun doing these character interviews and wish Clare all the best on her writing journey! Click here to read my review of Trinity.

Clare Davidson is a character driven fantasy writer, teacher and mother, from the UK. Clare was born in Northampton and lived in Malaysia for four and a half years as a child, before returning to the UK to settle in Leeds with her family. Whilst attending Lancaster University, Clare met her future husband and never left. They now share their lives with their young daughter and a cranky grey cat, called Ash. Clare juggles family life with writing, teaching and a variety of fibre craft hobbies.

Earth Angel Deleted Scene 03

The Earth Angel blog tour starts tomorrow! The first stop is at Clare Davidson’s blog where she has two unmissable interviews with her favourite characters, Dogga and Oz. Until then you can meet Dogga in this week’s deleted scene!

In this scene we join Dogga and Emz in the fields before the introduction of Jewelz. I deleted this scene and opted for a better one to develop the relationship between Dogga and Jewelz in a later chapter (guess which one is was!) Also I think there’s a bit of head hopping going on in this scene. Enjoy!

*Warning. Scenes were deleted before the final edits and may contain errors and inconsistencies*

‘Here we go again,’ said Dogga as he held up his pickaxe. A wall of crumbling rock stood before them, waiting to be axed. Emz tried to find a comfortable place on her pickaxe where splinters where minimal as Dogga began chipping at the rock. The long trough sat like an open mouth ready to be fed its morsels.

Another line of convicts walked in sinc past their trench. A stumpy young lad decided to have a laugh and jumped to a stop. The chain tightened and the person in front fell over. A wave of laughter consumed every inmate in the area, even those who did not see joined in the laugh attack. With a yelp the young lad was whipped across his back and the chain was ushered on.

‘Nice weather,’ informed Dogga sarcastically. Emz looked to the sky. The black cloud loomed above them coiling and bubbling, the enveloped lightning had died to a faint simmer. The desert heat was at its usual strength as the orange sun ascended. Midday was the worst time to be out; when the sun was directly above them there was no escape from the scorching heat. The cloud only sheltered the prison, but the fields were out in the open. Emz waited until the patrolling guard was out of earshot before speaking.

‘Found anything yet?’ she asked. There was not much else to talk about.

‘Nope, you?’

‘No,’ she answered. A guard ambled past on the trench above them, scanning the prisoners. The guy beside Dogga was becoming agitated. He was jittering; mumbling vicious words and could not keep still, his hands shook and eyes blinked rapidly. He had behavioural problems and was easily angered. The man started laughing to himself, sweat glistening across his browned face and empty chest. Emz’s good ear pricked as she watched him from the corner of her eye, she knew this guy’s temper. Her pulse rose, Please don’t kick off, please.

The man looked up at the passing guard and with a manic cry he hurled his pickaxe with a wild swing. The blade spun smoothly through the air and drove into the guard’s back perfectly. The guard collapsed into the dust with a strangled roar of pain, his arm bent round to clutch his pierced back. The offender laughed sadistically, jumping about as much as the chain would allow. It tugged on Dogga’s sore ankle.

‘Idiot,’ he growled, glaring at the man. Emz glanced around as Prison guards swarmed around like sharks with the taste of blood, truncheons at the ready. She pressed herself into the trench wall making herself as small as possible.

‘Give me your axe!’ spat the con to Dogga, his eyes wild.

‘Get stuffed,’ retorted Dogga. He could see the inmate swelling with anger, seconds before an unwanted fist met Dogga’s dirty face. That was it. Dogga took the strike and went to slaughter him, but a giant pair of hands took his shoulders and Dogga was met with the gargoyle face of a prison guard whose expression simply read ‘Don’t.’

Dogga was enraged he could not pummel the guy but his anger ebbed away as the guards struggled to control the offender. The crazy convict flailed his arms and legs madly, screeching and swearing. He could hear the thumps of truncheons as the three guards pinned him, unclipped him from the chain and dragged him away. The injured guard was immediately seen to by a medic at hand. Health and safety regulations were applied strictly to staff only.

Emz had pressed herself so hard into the wall that the rock created small dents in her skin. The incident was over as quickly as it started and the inmates were forced back to work. Regular events such as this one would be on the convict’s lips until the next one, replacing the old gossip of Gabrielle’s escape attempt last night.

Earth Angel Blog Tour

The tour is nearly upon us! I’m excited.

I have 11 writers in line who have very kindly agreed to host me on their blogs. There will be free ebook copies of EA up for grabs during the tour where you can enjoy interviews, guest posts and character interviews! See below for a list of blogs and features.

Sat 25th Aug. Clare Davidson – Character interview (Dogga and OZ)

Sun 26th Aug . Carrie Vaughn – Author interview

Mon 27th Aug.  Sarah L Fox – Summary, excerpt and interview

Tues 28th Aug. Kat Ellis – Author interview

Wed 29th Aug. Clare Davidson – Character interview (Faith)

Thurs 30th Aug.  Sally Stephenson – Author interview

Fri 31st Aug.  Tamara Morning – Guest post. Tips on writing romance

Sat 1st Sept . DasteRoad – Review or interview

Sun 2nd Sept. Emily Casey – Book Trailer

Mon 3rd Sept. Steve at Write A Revolution –Interview, guest post. Book cover design

Tues 4th Sept. Giveaway

Wed 5th Sept. Giveaway

Thurs 6th Sept. Rachel Horwitz – Snippet

Fri 7th Sept. Jane Kelsey – Book review

Sat 8th Sept. Margaret Alexander –Interview chat

Will hopefully see you during the tour!

If you can’t wait that long, Earth Angel is available to download from;

Amazon

Smashwords.

Barnes and Noble

Earth Angel Deleted Scene 02

This was a whole chapter I cut early on in the drafting process. Earth Angel began when I was a teenager which I rewrote. I don’t know what I wanted to achieve when I originally wrote this chapter, it had some world and character building but did nothing for the plot so I was ruthless and cut it.

We join Zenovia after she leaves with her new companions. Their first stop along the journey was one of the God’s temples. This chapter is in no way on par with the writing of the final draft, it’s also written in first person which was changed and will definitely contain inconsistencies and ideas that I dropped in the final draft. No spoilers. Enjoy!

*Warning. Scenes were deleted before the final edits and may contain errors and inconsistencies*

The Bird’s Nest

I could immediately see why they called it ‘The Bird’s Nest.’ Within the entanglement of enormous vines and roots rested the largest griffin colony on the continent. I could see them nesting and flying, sharp beaks, eagle feathers and tiger stripes. The roots began in a deep crater in the land where lush green islands surrounded the pools of crisp, clear water. The great roots sank deep into the earth creating a maze over the surface. The castle sat atop the strength of plant, white towers rose up into the sparkling sky. It looked alive with trees lifting up from the gardens. Stairs, walkways and bridges linked the towers and the buildings. The built structure merged with nature over time. It looked like a beautiful jigsaw with pieces missing, wonky or misplaced. The rocks were eroding in places or gone completely, leaving bridges unconnected and stairs leading nowhere. The green vegetation was part of the structure as the towers rose above it. You could see the great dome, which was the epicentre of the temple; the throne room where the Griffin King now slept peacefully. The entanglement of nature held the buildings together, showing how griffin architecture sat in perfect harmony with its surroundings. Griffins nested high in the undergrowth of the nest, flying in and out of the great trunk like roots.

Flying was the sole most nerve racking thing I had ever done, but also the most pleasant. The fast jerking movements of the take off terrified me but once we were gliding and I could open my eyes, I found the experience relaxing as long as I did not look down.

We were greeted by three large griffins that flanked us as we came into land. I gazed at their magnificence; the mixture of fur and feathers, sharp talons and beaks and their beady black eyes. They were checking we were safe before we entered their sanctuary.

Alfonso landed gracefully on a grassy area at the entrance to the gardens. Cautiously, and with a hand from Orlando I slid down from the saddle with my new companions. It was good to be on ground, although we were still at a height.

‘Thanks for the ride Alfonso. We won’t be long,’ said Faith. The great dragon nodded his mighty head.

I tried to pat my hair down, running my fingers through the length but the wind had whipped it into giant cots. I would have to brush it later. I looked at Faith and dared not ask how her hair stayed so perfect.

‘I’m going straight to the temple to pray to Ezekiel. You can come with me or explore the grounds; the gardens are great for quiet reflection or just to look at. If I don’t see you at the temple we can meet here in about an hour and a half.’ She looked at me, ‘The temple is pretty much a straight line from here,’ she indicated the direction, ‘you can’t miss it.’

‘Ok,’ I answered. And she was gone.

 

The gardens were incredible, I could easily get lost here. They were naturally organised, full before the point of overgrown. Flower beds bursting with colour, lush green vegetation, and fantastic trees twisting to the sky with leaves of odd shades and shapes bristling like the fur on a cat. I recognised none of them. The greenery mingled in harmony with the structure of the buildings around it. Creepers climbed up the worn facades, dangling from stairways and entwined the towers, columns and archways. The yellow sun illuminated everything with its bright rays. Birds, butterflies and small creatures fluttered and scuttled beneath the array of colours in the sea of green and white. I could die here. Streams of pure pale water snaked through the garden. The riverbed, like a small canal, was made of pure white marble. Where the source was I did not know.

I removed my canvas shoes and carried them; the grass was the softest I have ever felt, like a comfy bed. I followed the direction of a stream with my eyes. The blue water matched the blue sky as it trickled over the edge. The grass curved down the slope, it was like someone had cut through the garden with a giant knife. Leaving my shoes behind I crawled up to the edge and peered over. The river fell in a dispersed curve to the ground below. The height hit me and gripped my whole body, weighing me down like a magnet. I could see the expansive crater of roots and the pools between them. Griffins flittered about the surface and glided through the sky. The place was alive with life. I edged away, back to the garden and found my feet again.

When I turned and viewed the garden once more my perception had changed, everything seemed brighter. I narrowed my eyes, straining to see the slight shadows moving around the flowerbeds. Slowly they came into shape, human form but transparent. Some were bent over the flowers, others walking around. The figures all seem to be wearing a white robe, the hood pulled over their heads.

I gasped as one of the ghost like forms lifted its head and gazed directly at me. I was expecting my reaction to be one of fear but I felt nothing but peace. I could see her round face and the human detail.

A memory came to me, a memory not mine. I saw this woman who looked at me now, in a different place, a small child that was not her own, and the person whose eyes I looked through was a close relative, sister maybe. They were all happy, but I could tell a great tragedy was soon about to occur, looking out the window seeing a figure on the ground, wounded, then a painful scream.

The faded figure smiled at me warmly. I felt she would have run and hugged me, but her form would just pass through my body. Instead she sent waves of warmth and love in my direction. I was left standing, comforted by her love.

‘They say spirits volunteer to maintain the temples.’

The voice made me jump. Orlando approached me, his eyes scanned the garden. He had not seen them.

‘Spirits?’ I asked.

‘Some stay behind and live in the temples, tending to the gardens, looking after the animals, making it a safe and spiritual environment.’

I looked at the spirits again and indeed they were caring for the plants. The woman who had looked at me before now had her back turned, caring for a small rose bush, the flowers black as night.

‘So what’s the difference between a spirit and a ghost?’

‘Spirits are conscious, they realise they have passed from the body and they have accepted it. They can choose to stay here or travel to the next plane. Ghosts are simply lost souls; they don’t realise or can’t accept they have left the body. The God Pandora is a ghost, however conscious, she clings onto the past and can’t let go of her life as a lost princess… or so the story goes. She travels the globe and helps ghosts who are lost to move onto the next life. Cyrus however, is a human spirit God, who guards the portal to the next life and lets the spirits pass through, he also houses spirits in his castle, a kind of hotel for the dead who want to linger a while before they move on.’ As he spoke his eyes moved around the garden as if he was looking for something. I felt drawn into his eyes but as I stared I felt the white face of the drowning woman swimming back into my vision. I let it go and looked away.

‘Creepy.’ I answered him.

‘I’m heading to the temple, you coming?’

‘Sure.’

 

Before she entered the temple Faith took a moment on her own to think. She sat by a small pool and gazed at the marble statues of griffins wearing armour and holding weapons in a guarding stance. She felt at peace when visiting the temple, it was the one closest to home and she visited often to regain her strength or quieten her doubts; sometimes the weight of her responsibility was too heavy. Given the chance she would love to live there. Surrounded by the protective walls and soothing gardens her heart felt lighter and the abundance of chatter in her mind faded to a whisper. She wished to stay longer but felt pressed to move on.

Her mind briefly touched on to Yanto and Inga, Zenovia’s blood parents. It had been years, when Faith’s father was in Wolfpack since she’d last seen the couple and she was not altogether sure how to find them.

Gazing at her reflection in the calm water she sent out a prayer.

Only a few more stops my love and we’ll be there. There is a few things I need to do. Just hold on a little longer. I love you so much.

She dragged herself away from the pool and entered through the open arch into the temple.

 

Faith was crossed legged on the stone floor of the throne room in complete darkness. She took long breaths into her stomach and let them out slowly. Her mind became still as she pushed lingering thoughts away she focussed on the ever growing presence that surrounded her senses.

I see you Angel.

‘I see you Ezekiel Griffin King,’ the Angel answered to the impression in her mind. There was no physical voice, only information.

Why have to come to me today? The impression asked. Faith paused.

‘Peace of mind. I have experiences recent hardship,’ Faith answered with her mind. She felt a breeze of warm air brushing her skin.

We have been sending healing your way Angel. You serve us well and you will not go unrewarded. We can see you are tired but you must stay strong for those around you.

‘I am strong,’

You are. It is not time to say goodbye yet. Your service will be needed again shortly.

‘When will it be time?’

Not yet. Maybe never. This is your life purpose.

‘I know.’

Look out for a messenger bringing news. You must listen to him as he offers protection. You must be strong. Keep praying. Keep the connection strong. You will rest in the end but for now you must be strong.

‘I am strong.’

We know. Faith felt the presence withdraw and the air fell cold again.

‘I thank you Ezekiel Griffin King for your guidance today. I can continue on my path as Angel knowing you walk beside me. I have what I need for my purpose. Blessings and thanks to you.’

 

I had my expectations bested yet again. Outside of the temple were life size marble griffins buried in niches in the walls, armed with a sword and shield as if to guard the temple. We entered through the archway and found ourselves inside a giant marble dome where twelve podiums circled the floor adorned with statues of the twelve Gods. The effigies were twice as tall as a man. Twelve archways in the roof shone light down illuminating each statue at a different point in the day. They were all great creatures, one species is now extinct, and another close to. Two of the Gods used to be human, but are now spirit and ghost, immortal without flesh. They all rested in their temples away from the world.

The Gods are our immortal protectors. They choose specific people to become Angels who alert the Gods if there’s an outside danger. Not that there often is. Some people are Angels all their life like Faith but some are only Angels for a short time, it depends on your life path. But that’s all I know about that.

As far as we know the Gods cannot be killed, although stories in history tell of people who tried. All they were to me were twelve stone statues, distant and unreachable. All my life I didn’t believe in the power of prayers, people pray because they want and because they fear, but somehow being in a temple made me want to kneel in front of one of the statues and pray. Pray for a safe journey, pray to find my parents, and pray they will not reject me.

There was a short staircase leading up to an ornate door at the far side of dome. That must be the throne room, Gods and Angels only.

‘Do you pray?’ I asked Orlando.

‘I’m not much of a praying man. They can’t hear us anyway.’

‘That’s what I always thought.’

The sound of marble scraping echoed in the dome as the ornate door slowly slid open and Faith appeared on the other side. Her body looked rejuvenated, however there was something missing behind the eyes. I tried to sneak a look into the throne room but it was dark, and the door closed behind her.

‘I’m ready to leave now.’

When we arrived back at the grassy platform Alfonso was there waiting for us. On arrival he turned his head toward us. He was stood up, muscles tense, ready for action.

‘Thank goodness you’re here, we need to leave immediately.’

Blog Awards

Thank you very much to Tamara Morning for nominating me for two blogging awards!

Apparently I have to tell you 7 things about myself. Here goes!

1) I’m a vegetarian and have been since I was 12 (10 years ago!)

2) I speak basic German and worked as an Au Pair for 2 months when I was 18.

3) I have a BA in Interior Design.

4) I can fit my fist in my mouth.

5) I had cello lessons for 10 years (and I still suck)

6) The first book I started was called The Golden Dragon which I wrote when I was a kid.

7) I’m a volunteer at my local Banardos charity shop.

And now I have to award 7 bloggers the same award! Which goes to….

Clare Davidson

Kat Ellis

Margaret Alexander

Rachel Horwitz

Misty Provencher

Sarah L Fox

Emily Casey

If you accept you have to pass on the torch! Congratulations

Earth Angel Deleted Scene 01

I’m going to publish all the deleted scenes from Earth Angel on my blog.

With no spoilers, this scene is from Chapter Four, Lesoura, where the watchman confronts Oz and Gabrielle. In the final draft I could out a few paragraphs of dialogue to make the scene run smoother and faster.

*Warning. Scenes were deleted before the final edits and may contain errors and inconsistencies*

‘You know, there’s a young girl back there who’s very distraught after you broke her nose,’ said a voice from the shadows. Gabrielle and Oz stopped as the tall, blond watchman emerged from someone’s shadowy doorway.

‘She tried to steal from me,’ Gabrielle retorted innocently.

‘So that’s why you’re running?’ The watchman raised his eyebrows as he examined Gabrielle; searching for a weapon.

‘We’re just in a hurry to get home,’ Oz announced, the lie tumbled out his mouth like a schoolboy, as natural as the truth. The watchman’s eyes narrowed as he scrutinized Gabrielle more closely. She noticed his stare and glared back harshly.

‘Look’s like you’ve been a war,’ he said. His voice was sociable but obviously forced. Gabrielle knew she looked rough with old scars from her life in prison. She shrugged her shoulders, deciding she would fight the man if she had to. Then the watchman’s gaze fell upon her gemstone pendant. She watched as his eyes widened and confusion clouded his face.

‘I’d like to ask some questions,’ he said, the words he often spoke so confidently, now sounded hesitant. Gabrielle noted the change in his tone. Something was wrong. She folded her arms and shifted her weight impatiently. Oz waited for the watchman to continue.

‘Tell me, where have you come from to be dressed in rags and no shoes, covered in bruises and scars to be so thin, when was your last bath and where did you acquire those new clothes in your brief and hasty visit here?’ he asked. Finally taking his gaze from Gabrielle and leaving both the escapees in his sight. The guard must have seen them arrive, bedraggled from the direction of the desert.

He knows. Gabrielle knew they were found out, but Oz carried on with hope. He put on his biggest pity face and looked directly into the watchman’s eyes.

‘We lost out homes; we’ve been living on the streets of Hypatia for the best part of five weeks now. We came to Lesoura in the hope of finding refuge and help. There’s nothing in Hypatia for the poor. Please, you have to understand.’ Gabrielle stayed silent and let her brother lie.

‘So where’d you get the money from for your clothes, food and haircuts?” the man asked, clearly not convinced.

‘Savings, and several kind donations. We only bought the cheapest; it’s all we can afford.’ The watchman nodded, his hand rubbing his stubble lined chin.

‘So if I searched your pockets what would I find? And if I asked the person who sold you your clothes would he recognise you and your purchase? And what about the young girl you assaulted?’ He looked directly at Gabrielle. She waited on Oz for an answer. They both knew the man had them. ‘You’re not fooling anyone son.’

Gabrielle was stood strong and tense like a loaded bow. Oz recognised her expression, it was the pre-emptive I’m-going-to-hurt-someone glare.

The watchman stood forward.

‘I’m afraid you are both coming to the command post with me for at least one account of theft, one assault and possible further attempts…’

Like a hare Oz split down the street.

©Ruth Ellen Parlour

Earth Angel is available to download from Amazon and Smashwords.

I’m in Writing Magazine!

I was fortunate to be introduced to Rebecca Woodhead, a columnist in Writing Magazine (the UKs leading magazine for writers!) She knew I was self-publishing my novel and asked me for a quote about how I’ve used social networks to promote my book. She made no promises to whether I’d be featured or not. I picked up my copy today and I can’t tell you how amazing it feels to see my book cover and name in print! YEY!

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Free Short Story

My good writing friend Sally Stephenson publishes her début novel, Wildflowers, on Sunday (of which I designed the cover!) In celebration I’ve published my short story, Free, which is free to read on my blog. Free compares the lives of a girl in a concentration camp during WWII and a modern girl visiting on a school trip.

Book blurb for Wildflowers;

Edith’s father is hiding Jews, Helena’s is helping Hitler’s quest for power and having him over for afternoon tea at the family home. Helena is keeping Edith and her mother’s faith a secret as their love grows. It’s all risked when they sneak out to the concentration camp on the family’s land and find Edith’s father as a prisoner.

With the secrets of love and lies of war exposed, Helena receives a near death beating from her father and the girls’ mothers take them on the run to Switzerland. Later in Austria they’re found and arrested. Edith and her mother are sent to Dachau concentration camp, Helena to France. Separated and tortured until they find themselves in London. Pain from the past warns them against their future together but their love can’t keep them away from each other, even as war is declared on Germany.

My First Interview

I published my debut novel last Friday which was my childhood dream come true. Suffice to say my head has been in the clouds all week. I had an interview with Jonathan Diehl from Ohio state university about my self publishing journey which has just gone live on the university’s blog. I’ve been excited all day to read it!

So you want to publish an eBook? – Interview with a self-publishing author

By JONATHAN DIEHL | Published: JULY 31, 2012

What made you decide to self-publish?

I always had in the back of my mind to go down the traditional route. As I got into using twitter and into reading blogs of other writers, I got a good background knowledge on self-publishing, which was this emerging thing that was just starting to snowball. As I learned more about it, I got more excited about it.

I started to send my novel to traditional agents in queries. I started to get a bit impatient even though I knew the process would be lengthy. I felt very enthusiastic about the self-publishing route. It felt right, the time felt right, and I always listen to my gut instinct. To me, self publishing, this time in my life, is the way to go.

Click here to read the full interview