Hi friends!
I’ve been editing the KESTREL CREED story, and found myself in need of a little spice.
Here is an excerpt buried somewhere in ACT II part I, presented for your terror enjoyment.
For my Beta readers… POSSIBLE SPOILERS.
I hope you enjoy.
Please feel free to comment.
Happy New Year!
Here is another installment of Kestrel Creed and the Febrile Felon.
Again, it is a draft that has had a feather-pass of editing. I want to get more of the work out here for you, so I am being lax on the editing. Fear not, the whole work will get a strong-arm fix before it is ready for publication.
If you are new to the Kestrel Creed story, don’t forget to start with the Prologue .
I hope you enjoy the story.
Please feel free to comment.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Creed stomped through the bat-wing doors, into Bankleyville’s ‘Woody’s Rustbucket Saloon and Boarding House.’ His upper lip was curled back, exposing teeth. It was not a smile. The odds he’d gotten any news from the local law did not bode well.
Nika thought she heard him utter a curse. Of course, she never knew if he was swearing or not – his people had such colorful panoply of slang.
“Any luck…?” she started, but he interrupted her.
“These louts didn’t mistreat you, did they?” he asked, glaring at both Knife and Roose, each in turn.
She smiled. “No, silly. They were perfect gentlemen.”
Merry Christmas!
Here is another installment of Kestrel Creed and the Febrile Felon.
I will be finishing up the draft of Part II before the end of the year, and will also finish posting the final chapters of Part I. Look for at least one more chapter before year’s end. [Part I has the prologue and 9 chapters]
If you are new to the Kestrel Creed story, don’t forget to start with the Prologue .
I hope you enjoy the story.
Please feel free to comment.
CHAPTER SIX
“Mommy, I’m hot,” whined the boy two tables down. His mother wheedled, “Sebastian, drink your Coca-Cola and stop complaining.”
Those two sat alone at their table, the father no doubt off working. The Midnight restaurant, named after another of the local mines, was indeed sweltering today. It was an oven despite the overhead ceiling fan, and the additional portable fans whizzing and buzzing, positioned at intervals atop the high display case behind the bar. Even combined, the fans did little to ease the afternoon heat.
Creed sleeved his brow and took a long swallow of his water. Only crumbs remained on his plate, now. The sandwich had been tasty, ham and swiss. Nika was still working at her beefburger sandwich, and Knife noisily slurped the dregs of his frosted malted, his ‘Miner’s Hash’ long gone.
Don’t forget to start with the Prologue .
Hah. Insomnia strikes.
I have enough lucidity to edit, so here is Chapter Five. This was a fun chapter to write, and it didn’t seem to call for much editing. That may be the insomnia talking, I’ve been up for a long time. Again, this is not my last editing pass over the chapter.
I hope you enjoy it.
Please feel free to comment.
CHAPTER FIVE
The door to the sheriff’s office slammed closed. Nika leaned out the window of the Ford as Creed approached.
“What’s got your knickers in a bunch?” she asked. She couldn’t keep from smiling as she poked at him. Turnabout and all.
The town of Chloride, named after the high-grade silver ore found there, held no luster for Nika. The crudely painted, and poorly spelled sign boasted of the little town, “popyalation 1,000 to 2,000” and declared it was “a centor of mining – fer many miles ‘round.” Nika had laughed aloud as she read.
Don’t forget to start with the Prologue .
Hey friends, thanks for your patience. I had a very good November, despite being sick. It has taken me up until now to catch up with my normal life, which is why this chapter is so late in getting posted.
I have decided to just let you all read the chapters as drafts, with little editing. Once the draft is complete, I will begin editing in earnest. That may not happen until Mid-January. I hate delaying but things are what they are. I am plodding along as best I can. Thanks again for your patience.
As I stated, these chapters are ROUGH drafts, so keep that in mind when you cringe while reading them.
Thanks again for your interest in my Kestrel Creed novel, and feel free to leave a comment.
EDIT (12/13/13): I added some important information to the latter part of this chapter, and corrected a few typos I had missed on my first pass, as well as performing minor wording changes here and there. Hope it doesn’t throw you off.
CHAPTER FOUR
Nika stared at the campfire. She started to rise, but sighed heavily and sagged back down onto the dusty fringed Arabian-patterened rug she sat upon.
“Pacing won’t bring him back any sooner,” she said to the empty air.
Creed had left just before dusk, and he wasn’t back yet, damn him. She raised her head again, skyward. The stars told her it was well past midnight. She might have consulted her father’s pocket watch, but Kes had made her promised to use the timepiece only when she could not otherwise divine the time “from nature’s signals,” as he’d said. Creed was strict, sometimes even a hard taskmaster. But she knew it was for her own good. At least that is what Creed kept telling her.
“How else, Button,” he’d said, “are you going to find your way in the pitch of night?” Nika chuckled. Always Button, but she didn’t mind, it was what her father had called her. It was Creed’s staunch opinion that “timepieces are a crutch.” He was probably right, as usual, the meanie. There was so much to learn, and Creed’s knowledge was so vast. Not just about the stars, but in most all things: bushcraft, weapons, the way of people and their motives, and much, much more. It made her head spin; there was such a wealth of knowledge in that fella’s head, all the things he was teaching her – about being a hunter. A survivor.
Don’t forget to start with the Prologue . Again, this excerpt is in rough draft form.
I have struggled with an annoying cold for 6 days now. Thanks for your patience. Here is the next exciting chapter in the saga of Creed and Nika.
Although very behind in my word count, I have faith that I will catch up and finish this novel before December rolls around. Wish me luck.
Thanks again for your interest in my Kestrel Creed novel, and feel free to leave a comment.
CHAPTER THREE
As Creed rounded a narrow, bending dip in the road – if it could be called a road – a shallow muddle of murky smoke wafted into the dim glow of the coupe’s headlights, seeping from the lows like deadly fog. He pressed his foot on the brake, and as he slowed to a stop, the twin beams illuminated an iron gate.
This was the place. He hadn’t seen any indication of other homesteads for miles around. It wasn’t exactly that he recognized it. He simply felt it, a chill in his bones, like he’d been here before. Creed guessed he’d had at that, in a maddening, uncanny sort of way.
He shifted into neutral and keyed off the engine. The twin head-lamps dimmed, but he left them on. He wanted to see if Nika made it here safe. The gate’s reflection looked foreboding, like it was made of slender, burnt bones.
Be sure you start with the Prologue . Thanks
Again, this excerpt is in rough draft form.
I wanted to give an added note of thanks to all my friends in Second Life who have been incredibly supportive of my writing. Thank you for taking an interest. It really boosts my confidence and makes me feel like a real writer, knowing there are folks out there who are actually interested in reading my work. Of course this goes for all my other friends and family outside of SL.
If you have not yet done so, I’d love for you to dash over to my FACEBOOK page and give it a ‘like.’ All my posts here auto send a notice to my page there, so you can always know when there is a new chapter posted.
Thanks again for your interest in my Kestrel Creed novel, and feel free to leave a comment.
CHAPTER TWO
Despite the gentle movement of the gossamer curtains, and the late afternoon sun, the small room was stuffy and hot. The basin’s water, on the other hand, had cooled from boiling in little time at all, and was now tepid at best. Nika rung the washcloth into it, watching Creed’s blood swirl and turn the water pink. She dabbed it again at his wounds, this time caressing the crusty blood from his split lip. It must hurt like the dickens, but he didn’t flinch or complain. The skin had already begun to purple where he’d been walloped by the table leg.
Creed hadn’t spoken since they’d retreated to her room. He was brooding, and she’d long learned not to interrupt him while he was mulling. Those dark, piercing eyes were intent on some far-away trouble. She dipped the cloth into the water and repeated the process on his jaw now. It was a hard-lined jaw, and quite fetching. The cloth roughed against his afternoon stubble, despite the care she took, but again he seemed not to notice.
Updated Note: Be sure you read the Prologue first. Thanks
Again, this excerpt is in rough draft form.
A note on the language of this story. Two issues present themselves for me when writing this story. First, and the most obvious, are the racial references in this chapter (and future chapters as well). The story takes place in 1934. The 1930’s were a turbulent time for race relations in America, and as an author, I have a duty to keep the characters words and phrases honest. In many instances, it would be unacceptable for a contemporary character to use such language.
Secondly, our hero Kestrel Creed is a white Australian. He would logically call his aboriginal mentor ‘blackfella’, which at the time was not a derogatory comment.
In the same vein, I myself am neither of the 30’s, nor Australian. In this first draft, I am approximating what I think the characters might say, but I am unfamiliar with the idioms and the slang of the time. You may notice blatant inaccuracies, and in part this is on purpose. I am attempting to write at breakneck speeds for NaNoWriMo, and to stop with each sentence and research the proper terms would kill my pacing. Therefore, I speed through the work, and will focus on the language in later drafts.
Just wanted you to know.
Thanks again for your interest in my Kestrel Creed novel, and feel free to leave a comment.
CHAPTER ONE
Creed sailed through the air. He landed hard on the table. It collapsed under his weight, sending shot glasses, cards and chips flying in all directions.
Goodness but this negro brute Kule, was strong. Creed was no small man, and sturdily framed. The hulking savage-browed man had lifted him like a rag-doll, and flung him two yards or more across the taproom of Reingold’s First and Last Chance Saloon. Nika swallowed down her heart again. This time, the brawl was her fault.
PART ONE – POSSE
PROLOGUE
Water sloshed out of the buckets as Albert Towler plopped them down. “Drat,” he cursed. “Haste makes waste, ya lug.” Still, he managed to hold tight to the yoke handle. He had just a few more paces yet to go. Up the steps and into the house. “Paps maight have built the house a lil’ closer to the creek,” he complained aloud.
The brown, weedy ground greedily drank the spilt water. Thankfully no more than a few cupfuls had been lost, but after only a moment, the earth didn’t so much as show the dark stain of water. It had already returned to the worrying, milky-brown that had of late parched the surrounding countryside, and the farm along with it. If the winter had been this droughty, God only knew how the imminent dry spring would treat the land.
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