Hi folks, I'm continuing snippets from the draft of my current 'work in progress' unpublished fantasy romance 'The Matchmaker's Mare' which takes place in Wales.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 from Megan's P.O.V. She's just returning to her cottage after visiting Glyn Phillips and witnessing his young son handle a supposedly unrideable pony.
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(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!) Any feedback gratefully received.
SNIPPET
She started, as what seemed to be a shadow moved in the darkened window of the kitchen, as she left the car and fumbled in her bag for her keys. She couldn’t shake off the feeling she was being watched, although when she looked around she couldn’t make out anything suspicious in the shadows.
She tried to stop her hand trembling as she turned the key in the lock and cautiously pushed open the door, wondering what she could use as a weapon if she disturbed an intruder. She swallowed hard, her heart thudding and a slight feeling of panic rose and tightened like an elastic band around her chest, she switched on the light and gazed across the hall to the dining room. The door into the room was closed, as she had left it, there was no sign of anything being disturbed. She knew she hadn’t left any windows open and both front and back doors had been securely locked, logic told her it was unlikely anyone would have broken in without there being some sign of damage. Pentrebont was a peaceful, rural area, she’d never seen anyone wandering around at night, nor felt uneasy about living there alone. The cottage being out in the sticks as most people would call it, had never bothered her, in fact, she welcomed the peace and tranquillity after the hustle and bustle of the city, so why was she now jumping at shadows?
Taking a deep breath, Megan opened the dining room door, the room was empty, everything in its usual place, the peaceful atmosphere she always felt in the cottage settled over her and she relaxed under its calming influence; she went back and double checked the locks on the doors though, just in case there were any strangers prowling around outside.
She made herself a cup of tea and switched on the television, still slightly unnerved; after flicking through several channels she switched it off again, her mind wandering back to Hafod Farm and Glyn Phillips and his wild pony, his rich Welsh accent reverberating in her mind.
Hmmm, better not start getting any ideas, Megan Johnson, your last relationship didn’t end so well, did it?
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