This is WIPItUp, the blog hop where authors share excerpts from their works in progress. And please feel free to comment – we authors love feedback.
This week I’m sharing another teaser from my newest WIP. I just finished the first draft so it’s about to go out to beta readers. This one is a historical story, with sexy Vikings, naturally. The tentative title is Merewyn’s Viking Master, but that may not emerge unscathed from the editing process.
Oh, and here’s picture of my inspiration for the hero, Mathios…
Check out this short snippet…
Voices. Men, laughing, talking, their speech incomprehensible.
Footsteps. Heavy, booted feet.
The scrape of furniture, the clash of metal. The crackle of a hearty blaze and the solid thump of a log being tossed into the flames.
Merewyn lay still, listening. Trembling. Something nagged at the edges of her consciousness, something elusive yet compelling, a reason why she must wake up. There was something she had to do, but she dare not. She quaked every time footsteps drew close to where she huddled, barely daring to breathe until they receded again. She dared not open her eyes. If she did not do so, she could pretend that the vision from before had been a dream, a vile nightmare to haunt and torment her in her illness.
Yes, that must be it, a delusion brought on by the sickness she had endured. Her home was not teeming with Viking warriors. It could not be, the prospect was too awful and completely impossible. If those murdering savages had truly returned, she would not be alive to know of it. Merewyn grasped the covers more tightly and prayed that this hallucination would soon pass.
“I know that you are awake, little Celt.”
The voice was low, soft even, the words were spoken in her own tongue but in an accent she did not recognise. She clung to her blanket and her eyelids remained firmly closed.
“You will have to look at me at some time, it may as well be now.
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