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...and another look.


The editing process is going full tilt, when I don't lose concentration in lieu of lessor things (damn internet). My latest offering -- Prince of the Furies -- is headed the way I wanted it to go, but I find my tastes aren't always mainstream. Folk like what they like.
This snippet, from Chapter 23, is the beginning of the end of my third installment. With luck, I will have it out by December, if not earlier (but don't hold me to it -- okay, you can hold me to it).

the days are getting darker...




Andro awoke early the last day of Ambarric. The barn loft held little warmth and his breath steamed in the frigid air. He did not sleep much – a bale of hay made for an uncomfortable bed. The next day was the first of Rontenn – Equinox day. Just the thought of it kept him awake in guard of Maia. She turned beneath a makeshift blanket – her riding cloak. Upon hearing Andro, her eyes opened wide.
ā€œYour first night with a girl in a hayloft?ā€ she asked in jest, stretching her arms and yawning.
ā€œThe first time all night – begging your pardon.ā€
Maia laughed, picking hay out of her long black locks. ā€œWhat is her name?ā€
Andro blushed, but it was a nicer thought than worrying over Fury Princes. ā€œRanda Ostrum, but she is less interested with me. She has eyes for another,ā€ he answered.
ā€œShe doesn’t like the strong silent type?ā€
Andro nearly choked. ā€œMe…no, I mean, we are friends and all. She spends her time with the mayor’s son – Darius.ā€
ā€œBut she goes into haylofts with youā€¦ā€
Andro really didn’t know what to say that time. He peeked over the railing to see if they were safe, and change the subject. ā€œWe better get out of here...ā€

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