WeWriWa – Boys…

Hi everyone,

I’m participating in the Weekend Writing Warrior, a weekly blog event during which writers share 8 to 10 sentences of one of their projects. You should check out the others right here: http://www.wewriwa.com/. I share this post with the Snippet Sunday Facebook group, which you can find here.

We’re back with another excerpt from my steampunk novel, Oil and Boiling Water (previous excerpts are compiled here). We pick up right after last week’s snippet. Damian is replying to Éloi’s statement that he only meant to preserve Tatiana’s piece of mind.

“Of course,” Damian said to Éloi and extended a shilling. “Here. For your trouble.”
The shine of metal drew envious looks as Éloi pocketed the money, and I realised that my fear had been justified: we looked a little too proper for the establishment and some tenants had noticed.
“You may have made my fortune.” Éloi nodded to indicate the dice table. “Very generous! And she’s too charming to be any trouble.”
“Right…” Damian chuckled and sat.

WeWriWa – Éloi

Hi everyone,

I’m participating in the Weekend Writing Warrior, a weekly blog event during which writers share 8 to 10 sentences of one of their projects. You should check out the others right here: http://www.wewriwa.com/. I share this post with the Snippet Sunday Facebook group, which you can find here.

We’re back with another excerpt from my steampunk novel, Oil and Boiling Water (previous excerpts are compiled here). We’ve jumped a couple of lines of dialogue between Tatiana and Éloi (aka Mister Goldilocks) to where Damian (Tatiana’s brother) returns.

“She’s out of your league.” My brother dropped a bowl full of stew in front of me. “And you’re sitting at my place.”
“Milles excuses, monsieur. I only meant to preserve your sister’s peace.” Éloi rose and pulled out the chair for my brother with a theatrical bow. I remembered seeing a similar one done by a servant in a Castilian masked play. Had Éloi seen the play at one of the public shows or was he simply parodying nobles?
Was it usual for sailors to parody nobles?

WeWriWa – Damsel?

Hi everyone,

I’m participating in the Weekend Writing Warrior, a weekly blog event during which writers share 8 to 10 sentences of one of their projects. You should check out the others right here: http://www.wewriwa.com/. I share this post with the Snippet Sunday Facebook group, which you can find here.

We’re back with another excerpt from my steampunk novel, Oil and Boiling Water (previous excerpts are compiled here). Picking up where we left off last week, Tatiana has been ambushed by a touchy and sputtering drunk man.

I stifled a shudder long enough to grab one of the man’s fingers and remove his hand from mine.
“I think the lady wants you gone,” Goldilocks intervened. His French accent skewed the ‘th’ towards ‘s’ or ‘z’ and making ‘gone’ sound like ‘gun’, but the depth of his tone compensated for the disgrace in pronunciation.
Mister Slug grunted and wobbled off his chair, attempting to slam into Goldilocks who dodged with a swift step. His knee hit the slug’s behind, sending him back towards his drinking companions on unsteady feet.
With a smile, Goldilocks sat in the newly vacated chair. “I have a penchant for damsels in distress.”
From the corner of my eyes, I saw the heavy man toasting without a hint of intoxication; he must have thought I wasn’t paying attention anymore.
I cocked an eyebrow. “A penchant for setting them up for a rescue, it seems.”

WeWriWa – Social Mechanics

Hi everyone,

I’m participating in the Weekend Writing Warrior, a weekly blog event during which writers share 8 sentences of one of their projects. You should check out the others right here: http://www.wewriwa.com/. I share this post with the Snippet Sunday Facebook group, which you can find here.

We’re back with another excerpt from my steampunk novel, Oil and Boiling Water (previous excerpts are compiled here). We’re jumping ahead a bit. The twins are back in the main room of the Loose Cogs tavern for dinner. Damian tried to draw a waitress’ attention, to no avail.

Damian jostled his way to the bar, forgetting to drag me along. A stranger too large for his health commandeered my brother’s empty seat and overflowed its limits. With a slur and a gush of foul breath, the over-sized mammal said, “Whatsa pretthing like you doin a plass like zis?”
“Studying the social mechanics of the port’s ecosystem.” Unfortunately, the tight quarters made it impossible for me to distance myself from my studies.
The man laid a hand over mine, and I jerked.
“You talk pretty’oo.” He managed —by a skill no man should possess— to sputter all over my forearm.

Aerial – A Drabble

The wind stretched my skin tight across my face as I… as I what? ‘Rushed through the stratosphere?’ Nah… too elegant… ‘teetered at high velocity and altitude’ sounded more like it.
“’Cause she couldn’t give me a stick when she gave me wings, could she?” A bug hit the back of my throat, and I coughed. That’ll teach me to talk to myself at a time like this.
How the hell was I going to land?
“You can talk to me once you get your misdirected anger under control,” she had said before I started flying. Was that a clue?

This story was written based on this prompt.