Black Dorn on WIP It Up Wednesday #wipitup
ok - so some how I just deleted my post - so I'll try again
This is my first time on WIP. This selection is from my erotic medieval romance - Black Dorn.
"Stop that crying or by all that is powerful, I will beat you." "Do not yell so. You will frighten the poor child." Through tears, Branwyn stared at her uncle and aunt. "I…I do not understand. Why must I go?" Her aunt sat next to her. "It is your time, child. A husband has been chosen. You must leave us to join with him." "About time it is!" Her uncle’s face grew redder with each word. "One year shy of a score she is, and still unwed. She must fall to her knees to thank God someone wishes to marry such an old spinster." Branwyn slapped the arm of her chair. "I decline. It is my right. I shall not marry this man!" "How many men do you think you can refuse?" Her uncle paced about the small room. "This is the fourth suitor to ask for your hand. You cannot. It is done. Your things are being loaded as we speak." He jerked back a curtain in the window and pointed. The door opened and in stepped a tall broad-shouldered soldier. "The carriage awaits." "Branwyn." Aunt Selda patted her hand. "You have no dowry. This is a good match. He is a rich man. He will give you babies." Suspicion gnawed at Branwyn's stomach. "And what did he give you?" "Gold." Uncle Egbert picked up his purse and dropped it, with a rattle, back onto the table. Branwyn dried her eyes with the edge of her sleeve, stood, kissed her aunt on the cheek and strode out the door to face her destiny. A carriage with two strong, brown horses stood at the entrance. Two guardsmen on horseback waited. The driver offered his hand to help her mount. Branwyn paused and turned. No one waited to say goodbye. The door of her uncle's manor closed with a determined firmness. Warm tears gathered at the corner of her eyes. She blinked them back, then settled herself, pulled a blanket over her legs and snapped the curtains closed. If the family she’d grown up with refused to cry and wish her well, she would not shed a tear or turn for a final glance at her adopted home. With a shout and a shudder, the carriage pulled away. For three days and nights, the horses pounded across the land. Her body ached from the incessant shaking. The driver allowed her allowed brief intervals to exit the carriage. A guard, always on hand, escorted her to an inn. As much as she tried to converse with her escort, no one spoke to her. While she ate a quick meal, fresh horses, a new driver and soldiers relieved the tired ones. A rough blanket was Branwyn’s refuge into sleep—no bed, no soft down pillow, no gentle breeze billowing through her curtains, just the constant movement of the carriage. Branwyn’s eyes would begin to close when a sharp jostle would snap her awake. When the coach stopped, Branwyn’s trial was over. Her patience had worn thin and exhaustion weighed heavily on her. The door opened and she stepped down the stairs and onto the land of her new home.
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What's happening in September on Erotic Notions4 – Moira Keith - A Soul To Keep5 – Jennifer Lowery – Maximum Risk6 - Weekend Writing Warriors 8 – Adriana Kraft – Willow Smoke9 – Sharon Struth - Share the Moon10 – WIP It Up Wednesday11- Lucy Felthouse – Timeless Desire13 – Weekend Writing Warriors 15 – 22 – Fairy Tale Magic Blog Hop – Sexy Red Hood19 – 22 – Fall into Romance Blog Hop 23 – Amelia Swan- Hot and Cold24 - WIP It Up Wednesday27 - Weekend Writing Warriors29 – A.R. Cummings - 30 – Leigh Caron – Fat Girl
This is my first time on WIP. This selection is from my erotic medieval romance - Black Dorn."Stop that crying or by all that is powerful, I will beat you." "Do not yell so. You will frighten the poor child." Through tears, Branwyn stared at her uncle and aunt. "I…I do not understand. Why must I go?" Her aunt sat next to her. "It is your time, child. A husband has been chosen. You must leave us to join with him." "About time it is!" Her uncle’s face grew redder with each word. "One year shy of a score she is, and still unwed. She must fall to her knees to thank God someone wishes to marry such an old spinster." Branwyn slapped the arm of her chair. "I decline. It is my right. I shall not marry this man!" "How many men do you think you can refuse?" Her uncle paced about the small room. "This is the fourth suitor to ask for your hand. You cannot. It is done. Your things are being loaded as we speak." He jerked back a curtain in the window and pointed. The door opened and in stepped a tall broad-shouldered soldier. "The carriage awaits." "Branwyn." Aunt Selda patted her hand. "You have no dowry. This is a good match. He is a rich man. He will give you babies." Suspicion gnawed at Branwyn's stomach. "And what did he give you?" "Gold." Uncle Egbert picked up his purse and dropped it, with a rattle, back onto the table. Branwyn dried her eyes with the edge of her sleeve, stood, kissed her aunt on the cheek and strode out the door to face her destiny. A carriage with two strong, brown horses stood at the entrance. Two guardsmen on horseback waited. The driver offered his hand to help her mount. Branwyn paused and turned. No one waited to say goodbye. The door of her uncle's manor closed with a determined firmness. Warm tears gathered at the corner of her eyes. She blinked them back, then settled herself, pulled a blanket over her legs and snapped the curtains closed. If the family she’d grown up with refused to cry and wish her well, she would not shed a tear or turn for a final glance at her adopted home. With a shout and a shudder, the carriage pulled away. For three days and nights, the horses pounded across the land. Her body ached from the incessant shaking. The driver allowed her allowed brief intervals to exit the carriage. A guard, always on hand, escorted her to an inn. As much as she tried to converse with her escort, no one spoke to her. While she ate a quick meal, fresh horses, a new driver and soldiers relieved the tired ones. A rough blanket was Branwyn’s refuge into sleep—no bed, no soft down pillow, no gentle breeze billowing through her curtains, just the constant movement of the carriage. Branwyn’s eyes would begin to close when a sharp jostle would snap her awake. When the coach stopped, Branwyn’s trial was over. Her patience had worn thin and exhaustion weighed heavily on her. The door opened and she stepped down the stairs and onto the land of her new home.
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What's happening in September on Erotic Notions4 – Moira Keith - A Soul To Keep5 – Jennifer Lowery – Maximum Risk6 - Weekend Writing Warriors 8 – Adriana Kraft – Willow Smoke9 – Sharon Struth - Share the Moon10 – WIP It Up Wednesday11- Lucy Felthouse – Timeless Desire13 – Weekend Writing Warriors 15 – 22 – Fairy Tale Magic Blog Hop – Sexy Red Hood19 – 22 – Fall into Romance Blog Hop 23 – Amelia Swan- Hot and Cold24 - WIP It Up Wednesday27 - Weekend Writing Warriors29 – A.R. Cummings - 30 – Leigh Caron – Fat Girl
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