Welcome to Snippet Sunday on Darkling Dreams!
Where writers come together to share a few sentences (8-10) of their current project — whether it’s a recently released novel, a WIP (work in progress), or an older manuscript that’s being revived. Intended to hook readers, gather feedback and build an author’s fan base, Snippet Sunday is the FB group that does all three.
I am going to continue on with the first book in the Dark Heir Chronicles yet, Fated to Darkness. Next month I believe I might switch to something different for March, and then flip back to this in April as motivation for Camp NaNo. I think. Unless I end up rolling with this through April — which is a long time — then switch in between the two Camp months to something else.
Previously on Sunday Snippets: Four year old Heather had been kidnapped from her home by a woman clad in black and whisked off to another realm where she found her kidnapper wanted her to be her Heir. But not just any Heir. After being locked up and put through a ritual that has changed her and her life forever — though she does not yet know it — she has found herself in a small bare essential room with a tiny bathroom, and her new mentor has instructed her to clean herself up and be ready in ten minutes. Having talked of what Ciara finally wants of her, she is now left in her first lesson under her mentor.
Picking up right where I left off from last week’s snippet as Heather still tries to grasp the concept of magic.
(Some sentences may have been creatively edited and punctuated to
try to fit the ten sentence limit. I’m over, again. Can we just agree that my snippets will always be a little longer but not too long?)
A flickering dark grey, nearly black, ball started to form in her palm. It was small at first, no bigger than a bouncy ball. The more she tried to focus though, the larger it slowly became until it reached the size of a tennis ball. It swirled around in her hand, flickering as she struggled to hold onto it. Averting her attention for the slightest second would start to make it snuff out until she would force it back up, the act making her actually feel physically tired and sore.
The Dark One smiled, satisfied with the child’s accomplishment finally. “Good,” she stated smugly, starting to walk a circle around Heather. “Continue to hold it.”
“I-I can’t,” she answered meekly. Already, after less than a minute, she was struggling to keep it going, feeling that hum through her body start to die down.
“Hold it,” she snapped.
Heather made a small whimper but tried to hold it as the woman said, afraid to find out what would happen if she lost the ball in her hand. She was half fascinated by what she was doing, and half scared out of her mind. None of this should be possible, she knew that much. She was a child that believed in fairy tales, white knights, monsters under the bed, fairies, and magic, but this… Now that she was seeing something she couldn’t explain, doing something she couldn’t explain other than calling it magic as the woman had described it… She was at a total loss.
She managed to hold the flickering ball for another minute or so before she couldn’t do it any longer and it snuffed out, evaporating like steam. She didn’t even have a second to try to bring it back somehow before a sharp hit was dealt to the back of her head.
She crumbled to the ground from the blow, crying out in pain — dark spots danced in her vision and the room tilted as her head started to pound something severe. Ciara reached down and hauled Heather up by the back of her shirt until she was back on her feet. Then she grabbed her by the hair and tilted her head back forcefully to make her look up at her, nearly tipping her over backwards. The harshness to her actions made the room spin even more on Heather and she wobbled on her feet, close to falling over once more.
“That was not holding it, Heir,” she sneered.
Heather whimpered, crying a little again. “I-I tried,” she answered timidly.
“Not hard enough.”
She threw the small girl back to the ground, glaring down at her like a teacher with a ruler in their hands, ready to slap her hands. However, it wasn’t a ruler she had in her hand; it was a glinting knife.
“Again,” she snapped coldly.
No rest for the wicked! Er, I mean, weary. No rest for the weary, right… Anyone care to place a bet on what happens next? ;)
This story is not yet on Wattpad because it is my baby that I hope to publish one day, and if no one will publish me, I am self publishing. But it’s also not on Wattpad because it’s in first draft phases yet. So there will be no “if you wish to read more…”
However! If you wish to read anything else that I do have finished, you can hop on over to my profile on Wattpad and check out what I have to offer. I love to hear any and all feedback on my work as well. Comments are greatly appreciated, as are the reads.
And if you’re looking for some other great snippets of fellow authors,
hop on over to Facebook and check out Snippet Sunday!