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.
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.