A Segment from Mike's book
Mike posted a few paragraphs from his book on his and my family's blog. He decided he'd post here, too. He wants to know if any of you have any contacts with fiction publishers. Enjoy!
Still collecting his thoughts, Jaren continued to take in his surroundings. The cage he was in was just a wagon, like those pulled by horses, with bars on each side and crisscrossing across the top. Sitting in the cage with him were a half dozen dirty men. Jaren didn't recognize any of them. While all of their clothes appeared equally dirty, they seemed to vary in how worn they were. Some were wearing work clothes, a couple night clothes, and one wore what Jaren assumed was a woven sack that had holes cut for the man's head and arms to go through. Most of the men were disinterested in Jaren and continued to blankly stare down at the floor of the wagon, as Jaren assumed they were doing while he was unconscious.
"How are you feeling?" Jaren turned to look at the man sitting beside him. Of all the men, his clothes appeared the most worn. Both of his knees showed through his trousers, and the shoulders on his shirt were thread bare. His hair was tangled and his face covered with thin unkempt beard. The skin on his bare feet was covered in dust, and Jaren could see a clear line right above his ankle where his trousers prevented sunshine from tanning the skin. But, the man's face was what made him stand out the most from the other men. His eyes were clear, dark in color, and despite the apparent captivity, in contrast to the other men's apparent despondency, he seemed to emit happiness.
Jaren lightly shook his head, as is he might be able to shake his thoughts into order. "I'm not sure." He eventually replied. The man continued to look at him, his glance shifting to Jaren's head. Jaren gingerly reached up to touch the wound and noticed for the first time that he had chains on his wrists. They were large, a dull gray and slightly rusty. He hefted them and gave them a slight tugl. Glancing from left to right, he saw that all the men had similar chains on their wrists, and most had chains on their ankles as well. Swinging his legs slightly, Jaren verified that he did not have chains on his.
"Where am I? What's going on?" Jaren finally asked, unable to put what he saw and remembered together in any explanatory way.
Still collecting his thoughts, Jaren continued to take in his surroundings. The cage he was in was just a wagon, like those pulled by horses, with bars on each side and crisscrossing across the top. Sitting in the cage with him were a half dozen dirty men. Jaren didn't recognize any of them. While all of their clothes appeared equally dirty, they seemed to vary in how worn they were. Some were wearing work clothes, a couple night clothes, and one wore what Jaren assumed was a woven sack that had holes cut for the man's head and arms to go through. Most of the men were disinterested in Jaren and continued to blankly stare down at the floor of the wagon, as Jaren assumed they were doing while he was unconscious.
"How are you feeling?" Jaren turned to look at the man sitting beside him. Of all the men, his clothes appeared the most worn. Both of his knees showed through his trousers, and the shoulders on his shirt were thread bare. His hair was tangled and his face covered with thin unkempt beard. The skin on his bare feet was covered in dust, and Jaren could see a clear line right above his ankle where his trousers prevented sunshine from tanning the skin. But, the man's face was what made him stand out the most from the other men. His eyes were clear, dark in color, and despite the apparent captivity, in contrast to the other men's apparent despondency, he seemed to emit happiness.
Jaren lightly shook his head, as is he might be able to shake his thoughts into order. "I'm not sure." He eventually replied. The man continued to look at him, his glance shifting to Jaren's head. Jaren gingerly reached up to touch the wound and noticed for the first time that he had chains on his wrists. They were large, a dull gray and slightly rusty. He hefted them and gave them a slight tugl. Glancing from left to right, he saw that all the men had similar chains on their wrists, and most had chains on their ankles as well. Swinging his legs slightly, Jaren verified that he did not have chains on his.
"Where am I? What's going on?" Jaren finally asked, unable to put what he saw and remembered together in any explanatory way.
Comments
There are still many places that need to be edited, but the story flows. I want to read it all.
Mom Clark
P.S. your family pictures look great!
Calista--this is a different story. I never had a story for that world/universe. I still really like the idea, but until I have a story for that one, it will just have to wait.
:)