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Beloved Enemy joined Starquest and Children of the Mist to continue the Destiny Trilogy and I'm thrilled to announce was shortlisted for the R.N.A. RoNA Awards 2017, awarded 2nd Runner up in the RONE Awards 2017 and was the winner in the SF/Fantasy category of the 'Best Banter Contest'.

Sunday, 10 November 2019

#WeekendWritingWarriors #SnippetSunday - The Matchmaker's mare




                                            Snippet Sunday Facebook  Group

Hi folks, I'm continuing snippets from the draft of my current 'work in progress' unpublished novel, a fantasy 'The Matchmaker's Mare' which takes place in Wales. The  story is told from three p.o.vs. and two time-lines. Today's excerpt is again in Glyn's P.O.V.  


Don't forget to visit the other authors at the link above, there's something for all tastes.


SNIPPET

 (This is only a rough draft to give the gist of the novel, and is subject to change and edits - and improvement on the creative punctuation which is needed  to adhere to the ten sentence rule!) 
Summary: Megan, new to the village, is delivering some medication to her neighbour, and finds him having a problem with a pony his employee, Evan, was trying to ride.


           He sighed deeply, “ I’m sorry, I’m keeping you, you’ll be wanting to get back home, I’m sure.”

            “Oh, it’s all right, I wasn’t in any hurry.” 

            No, she wasn’t in any hurry, in fact, she wouldn’t have minded listening to Glyn Phillips’ lyrical Welsh accent all evening. He probably wouldn’t appreciate her taking up his time chatting though, when he had a recalcitrant pony to catch and unsaddle, and most likely numerous other jobs needing to be done. All at once he stared past her to the paddock with a startled exclamation.

            “What the…?” his face darkened, his former friendly expression changed to one of horror—fear even. He leapt over the fence with the agility of a young steeplechaser and Megan gasped as she realised what had caused the sudden change in him. 

A young boy, who could not have been older than about eight or nine years old, had ducked under the fence on the other side of the paddock. He walked calmly  toward the gate, leading the chestnut pony with the air of one who knew exactly what he was doing.

             The mare’s ears twitched contentedly to and fro, as she walked calmly beside him, although Megan thought she saw something suspiciously like a gleam in the pony's large, dark eyes.












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