Monday, February 10, 2014

Chapter 1 and done...

Is what I always say! Well, as I promised, I got my first chapter finished. Me, Moonshine, and Pablo is on the move now. Ironically, as cold as it is at night in the red sand plains, it is not so cold in the daylight.

 This here desert is strangely hot and bitterly cold, seems to be such a dichotomy. You got to drink quite a bit of water.

Moonshine is pretty good about keeping himself hydrated....

Pablo on the other hand, drinks beer and wears his water instead of drinking it.
Anywho, this here is chapter 1. Hope you all like it! Tell me what ya'll think!
All rights is reserved to me, the author! And don't you never forget it! Anywho, get the book: 

A man carrying an axe leads a woman through the dense forest to the edge of a meadow 
“I believe this will be a good clearing right here, Maggie,” Bandor exuberantly claims.
He smiles broadly and steps into the bright morning sun. He gives a confident nod to the woman, who reluctantly hugs the shadows of the forest. The woman, Bandor’s wife, wears a white cotton dress and brown burlap apron. Her sandy locks rise and fall in the gentle breeze as she carefully slips out of the dense shrubberyBandor raises his axe high above his head and moves to chop fallen logs that he had previously collected in the clearing. He listens to the hollow echo of a ruined tree trunk, searching for a strategic point to strike the depreciated timber.  
Thump, thump, thump 
He smiles wider with each thud.  
The wedded couple are honest and happy wanderers, free to roam and dwell where they pleaseBandor and Maggie find dignity in being vagabonds, proudly scoffing at peasants that find security in the service of a king.  
Although Bandor hates to admit it, he fears that another harsh winter in a drafty cave along the coast would be the end of his beloved wife and daughter. Pushed continually by the wailing fears of his wife, the faint whimpers of his daughter, and the memory of the burning fever that nearly claimed her, the noble father realizes that it is either shelter in the woods or death in the caves.   
“With all this timber, I will make me family a nice cottage,” he bellows, but what he is really thinking is that his family will survive, even though his traveling days will not. He proudly glances over at Maggie for approval. Happiness beams in his hazel green eyes, but worry clouds hers.  
"I know you leveled the ground a fortnight ago, but had you considered that there is no safety in this vast opening?" 
“Ah…,” Bandor groans, waving off his worried wife. He spits in his hands and wipes the muddy matter on his patched and worn trousers. 
"I think we would be safer along the edge of the woods." 
"Maggie, you know the edge of the forest is no safer than this field."  
"Then why build here? Can't we move away from the terrors of the forest and closer to the Kingdom of Forth?"  
"You would have me subject to a year of service in the king's guard, bound by tax, and chained by the routines of man?" 
"Kingdoms are safer than cottages." 
"Tyrants are worse than the terrors." 
Maggie sighs in defeat. "Have it your way, Bandor, but we do not dwell here at night until that cottage is completely finished!"  
"We will be back in the caves before the sun sets," Bandor grunts. 
Distracted by a frenzied buzzing, Maggie brushes her wispy hazelnut hair out of her face. Her deep blue eyes search the sky while she waves her hands around her head, dismissing legions of mosquitoes.  
“Is it safe for our little one?” she inquires. Her fidgeting arms fall to her side and finally rest on her hips. 
Bandor raises his eyebrows.  
“I anot a fear monger!” Maggie preemptively refutes, wringing her hands.  
Bandor chuckles. He had affectionately nicknamed his wife "Fuss-Bucket Maggie" for her tendency to constantly blurt out the worst scenario possible, verbalizing her nagging worries to the world.  
“Can’t build a home on fear,” Bandor gently reminds her between booming strikes. 
"Will the cabin even offer protection at night?"  
“Relax, ‘tis a beautiful day, love. This solid oak will protect us just as well as the caves.” Bandor inhales deeply, drawing in the musky scent of the forest. 
"The caves were not very safe to begin with," Maggie fires back, rolling her eyes before turning to the forest. “Come, child. All is well,” she calls out to a patch of ferns 
Her daughter Princess hesitantly peeks around the base of a thick tree trunk. “I’m scared,” the child squeaks before retracting 
Her mother sighs, takes a seat on a mossy log, and pats the spongy spot next to her. “Come sit by Ma; Da will protect us.”  
 Reluctantly, the child steps out of the dreary forest and into the warm rays. Gaining confidence, Princess gaily skips toward her mother but abruptly trips over a root and pummels face-first into the soft soil.  
The doting mother jumps to action. "You must be more careful, darlingBeasts from above and below are not the only dangers that threaten us,” Maggie counsels, helping her clumsy daughter to her feet. 
Princess snivels and wipes her eyes, smearing the soft soot on her wet cheeks.  
“Oh Princess, you surely are the most helpless creature in the forest. Come to mommy.” Maggie tenderly wipes the dirt stains from Princess’ pretty face. Tears continue to well in Princess’ striking blue eyes. 
“Oh, there, there, child, you are restored to whole, now shed not one more tear of remorse,” Maggie comforts, pressing her daughter to her chest.  
Princess sniffles. “Tinksel, Ma.” The lovely child wraps her little arms around her mother’s tiny waist.  
“There’s enough wood here to build a kingdom!” Bandor roars as he boisterously leaps from one fallen log to another.  
Princess looks up and observes her father leaping about. Inspired, she hops to her feet and begins jumping from one exposed root to another.  
“Look Ma,” she giggles. “Am I very much like father?” 
Maggie absent-mindedly nods and looks up at the forest. A gentle breeze sways the leafy oaks and alders. Rustling leaves scratch against each other, mimicking the sound of a rushing stream.  
“He never listens to me,” Maggie sighs. She walks over and takes her daughter into her arms 
“Mommy, how’d you get the sky in your eyes?” Princess playfully asks, pinching a strand of hair and twirling it around her finger. Scattered spots of yellow light dance across her mother’s face. 
Maggie cups her daughter’s cheeks with both hands. “That’s what you and I have in common, daughter: our eyes, our hearts, and our wits.”  
Always curious, always interested in everything going on around her, Princess is the type of girl to ask questions, not the type to stare into ones’ eyes for long. Distractions like floating butterflies, dragonflies, buzzing bumble bees, and long stem daises attract her attention 
“Daughter, do you understand what I’m saying to you?” Maggie asks gently. Her daughter's attention snaps back to her.  
Princess nods. “What have I in common with Father?”  
Maggie looks up at Bandor, who works without a care in the world. “At times, courage,” she winks at her daughter. “That is, when you’re not hiding in the shadows like a scared little rabbit.” She wrinkles her nose and pretends to sniff like a bunny.  
“Mommy, you’re ridic  eewwwrous,” the little girl jumbles 
"Come, rest on Ma's lap. We'll watch Da build us a home."  
Princess nestles into her mother's lap and falls asleep. Maggie yawns, and slowly nods into a peaceful sleep.  
Sweat stains pool around Bandor’s neck and armpits. I shall name this place Bandor’s Dwelling, he thinks. No  Bandor’s Way. Unsatisfied, he tries again: Princess’ Knoll. A warm smile crosses his faces.  He confidently grins and raises the axe high above his head, lost in his labor. 

Maggie slowly opens her eyesShe feels Princess' warm face and rapid breath against her chest. She moves slowly, not wanting to disturb her daughterFor the last few weeks, Princess had not slept well, tormented by frequent night terrors. As Maggie carefully sets Princess to the ground, she feels a cool breeze on her face. She looks up and seethe shadows lengthening and the light receding. 
"BANDOR!" Maggie yells, standing to her feet, "You let us rest too long!"  
Bandor keeps working, stacking one log on top of the other.  
"I'm almost finished putting up the wall." 
"Tis growing dark fast!" Maggie panics  
Bandor looks up with a start. His hands start shaking from the realization that the sun is fading. "We'll get back just fine -" 
 Before he can finish, an enormous brown flash smashes down on his muscular frame. Like a twig under a foot, his body snaps.  clenching tremor courses up his abdomen and offsets his equilibrium. Nausea washes over him and his arms begin to flail.  
The sudden impact whites out Bandor’s vision and knocks the wind out of his lungs. A sharp, intense pain radiates down his legs. He tries to move his feet, but his legs don't respond. Nothing makes sense. He remembers in great detail stacking the log, and he abruptly feels the cool grass press against his face. He smells the strong earthy scent against his scruff. Pain jerks him back to reality. Finally, he realizes he’s been attacked.  
Maggie shrieks, "Bandor!"  
Princess jolts awake. Her eyes widen and her bottom lip pokes out. She wails and runs to her screaming mother. She buries her face in her mother’s skirt. 
Maggie's ear-piercing scream echoes in the forest and attracts the attention of the monstrous griffin, whose white eagle head hovers over Bandor. The bird’s burning red eyes flash as its razor-sharp beak opens.  
The massive beast pushes its curved, black talons deeper into Bandor’s abdomen. With its hefty beak, it clamps down on the meaty portion of his shoulder.  
“Argh…” Bandor gurgles. With his good arm, Bandor tries to block the incessant biting. He feels the sharp pecks slice the center of his back, weakening him further. His despondent struggle is no match for the massive griffin that presses its full weight down on his frame.  
Terrified, Princess peers past her mother’s skirt and finds the creature looming over her father. Its long lion’s tail twitchesmoving back and forth behind hindquarters covered in golden furWhen the beast shifts its weight, its gigantic muscles bulgeFurther up its torso, chestnut-colored feathers protrude around its neck. The griffin’s enormous wings rise, presenting its fierce wrath. Its giant eagle head raises above its outstretched wings and cocks to the side. Princess catches a gruesome glimpse of a bloodstained beak. She clings to her mother’s leg and shuts her eyes as tightly as her lids will allow. 
Nooo,” Maggie moans.  
In shock, Maggie starts to take quivering steps backward. With Princess behind her, she shelters her daughter with her body. The griffin looks at her and blinks a leathery lid. It turns and gulps down a severed arm. She stands awestruck and terrified as the eagle’s gullet bulges. 
Trapped between terror and distress, Maggie watches the vile creature dismember her husband..   
This isn’t happening! This isn’t real! her thoughts scream. 
Feverishly, she steps back, ushering her petrified daughter toward the forest. She turns to Princess and screams, “Refuge, child! We must find refuge!” Her eyes dart around the dimly-lit forest. A single beam of sunlight rests on a hollowed-out log, with hanging moss partially covering the opening.  
Quickly, Maggie scurries over to the shelter, pulling her daughter by the arm. 
Behind her, Bandor’s tortured screams cut off.  
Maggie rushes to tuck her precious daughter away so that she can hurry to her dear husband's rescue. She hurriedly sweeps debris away from the entry and thrusts Princess into the dark, scratchy hole. Princess slides into the shelter and finally reopens her eyes.  
Feeling her mother’s warm hand releasing, Princess grasps her mother’s fingers. “Don’t leave, Ma! There’s room for you!” she pleads.  
Maggie frantically shakes her head in protest. “No, your father—I can’t leave your”  
Time stops abruptly for Princess. Though she doesn’t blink, she sees a series of frozen images. Maggie's hands go limp. Then her face goes white. Princess sees the infinite source of her mother's love - her blue eyes - widen and then dim. As their eyes lock, Princess witnesses her mother’s mortal windows glaze overMaggie's bottom lip quivers and Princess isn’t sure, but she thinks she hears her mother laugh.  
All at once, Maggie is ripped from Princess' outstretched fingers. 
Princess hides her face in her handsHearing the fluttering of large wings, she knows without a doubt that her mother’s end is certain.  
The griffin snips at her mother violently with its razor-sharp beak. Maggie doesn’t scream, she doesn’t cry out; she simply dies, inches from her daughter’s touch. 
Inside the log, Princess sobs hysterically, violently shaking as the last images of her mother burn into her memory. Snapping and cracking bones cause her to shift her hands to her ears.  
“Mommy will be okay,” she impossibly reassures herself. “She’s not crying!” 
From outside Princess’ hiding place, the terrifying griffin raises its head and swallows the last remains of Princess’ parents in two swift gulps.  
Looking down from high in the treetops, one would hardly know that two people even stood in the woods a few moments ago, had it not been for the blood seeping into the soil 
Inside the log, Princess peeks through her tightly pressed lids only to discover a large red eye filling the circumference of the hollow log. The probing pupil narrows when it spots Princess in the dark. 
Ahh!” the child screams. With no time to mourn, Princess scampers back, shoving herself deeper into the moist refuge. Horrified, she realizes that it is her turn to die.  
Her sudden movements attract the griffin’s predatory instincts. Its hard beak pecks at the soft timber, tearing pieces away. The griffin strategically tests the log, using the point of its hooked beak to search for dull, weak points. Frustrated that its prey eludes its grasp, it flaps its mammoth wings and stomps down with its enormous talons, crushing larger chunks of the crumbling bark. The ravenous monster uses its ferocious bill to sift through the dense wood.  
The jostling impacts overwhelm Princess and she screams hysterically. Pressing her palms into the wood, she wedges herself into the narrowest part of the fallen tree until she can retreat no further.  
The griffin releases a thunderous lion’s roar that trails off into a high-pitched eagle screech. From behind the small child, the griffin’s powerful talons punch through the thick oaks wall and penetrate the bottom of Princess’ foot. The burning pain forces her to realize that her shelter is no longer safe.  
Preparing to meet her terrible end, Princess screams so hard it burns her lungs and strains her throat. The death cry sends the griffin into a frenzied attack. It seizes the log with both talons. At breakneck speed, it spreads its gigantic wings and lifts the log off of the ground and slightly above the trees.  
The hollow entry whooshes with rushing wind that presses against Princess’ face. Lodging herself in place, the little girl shoves her hands so hard against the dense walls that her fingers go numb 
In an instant, the mighty griffin’s rage severs the log in two.  
The infinite freefall instantly makes her stomach lift into her throat. She wants to scream, but instead gags to a cough. Her timber safe haven falls through the air, crashing against flimsy pine branches that slow her imminent doom. Smashing against each tree jostles her with an earth-quaking force, rattling her body against the log. 
With a bang, the torn oak log hits the ground and begins rolling down a grassy knoll, folding the green blades and kicking up clods of dirt. The commotion causes Princess to bang her head and arms against the walls’ splintery wood. She tastes earthy grit grinding against her teeth. Through the entry of her hiding place, spinning images of green and blue circle so fast that her mind cannot separate the sky from the ground. A mesh of blue sky and green forest converges to one chaotic image. Her head thrashes as she spins out of control.  
Further down the hill, the earth begins to change from thick vegetation to loose stony ground beneath the rolling trunk. The wood log grinds against the solid stone earth, gaining momentum until it launches off a steep cliff. Smashing against a jagged rock wall, the shelter breaks into shorter halves. The two pieces freefall into a dark canyon. 
Soaring through the air, the griffin dives down on the plummeting log pieces. It snatches at one of the halves and misses. The creature narrows its wings and dives ever faster, closing the slight gap. It successfully seizes its target with gripping claws and screeches in victory. It turns out of its dive and soars upward, leaving massive brown feathers floating down in its wake. 
 The shorter section of wood continues to fall and narrowly passes between the jagged cliffs. The log slips through a shoreline mountain crevice, plunging into chilling water below. Sucked in by the tide, the log floats into a dimly-lit cavern. Moist dew drips from the rocky ceiling.  
Drip, drip.   
High in the fading sky, the fierce griffin clutches its prize, ripping it apart splinter by splinter. The beast frantically searches the falling brown pieces for its prey in vain. When it discovers its loss, it utters a deafening screech in defeat. The massive monster flaps its powerful wings and flies away. 
Inside the dark cave, Princess slowly pokes her tiny fingertips out of the fragmented opening and grips the rim of the log. She carefully lifts her head above the jagged edge. 
“Ma…?” she whispers. Her echo spooks her. She ducks back down under the safety of her musky shelter.  
“Da!” she yelps from inside the bobbing log.  
Her isolation swirls around her. 
Slowly, the child stands up and spits dirt out of her mouth. She tries to shake the wood chips out of her ears, but they prove to be lodged too far down.  Her body tingles from fright and her muscles trembleEverything seems to go numb, except the nausea in her aching belly.  
When Princess finally takes a look at her surroundings, she gulps, rubs her petrified eyes, and sobs. “I’m all alone,” she whimpers. She pulls the collar of her dress over her nose and begins to hyperventilate. Her hot breath traps a bit of warmth while her shelter rocks back and forth with each panting breath.  
“What will become of me now?” she sobs between hysteric, sputtering gasps.

Now go get the book:  (All rights reserved ©)  


  1. Woot! Never thought I'd be excited to work with a hillbilly. Rock on Princess!

  2. Hi. I saw your post on Harry Potter community on G+ today. Is this going to be a replacement for Harry? Is this going to be fan fiction? I'm a "pot"head and would love another!

  3. Awesome! I can't wait to

    1. Well we got more! It'll go up tonight. How about your story? Anything new?

  4. I tried to comment on the post you left on Google+ but it won't let me-it may eventually end up with six copies of that post or none so here is what I wanted to say there.

    Sorry it took so long to get back here for this.

    So the novel is about the girl? Or is she a side story?

    But not bad especially the second half but I think you could describe a few more of the five senses. How did things Smell? Taste? Feel?

    Oh and the two paragraphs that describe them sound a little cliche-ish to me but they can still work.

    1. Hey Louis,
      Yeah, the story is about Princess. What do you mean by how did things smell taste feel? And at which part of the story? Thanks for reading it. Did you like it?

  5. This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.

  6. Ok. I like what you're writing. I'll go back and make a few changes. I'm gonna crash now. Pablo's been reading us, "Twilight" and although I want to finish this right now, I aint got the time!