Joely Sue Burkhart

(Posted a little early so I can work on June goals tomorrow!) 

This is the second scene of TFW, introducing the hero, Zahak.  I’m struggling to balance the worldbuilding between this novella and Survive My Fire, which TFW will accompany.  It’s the same world, but they each stand alone, too.  I don’t know which one might be read first!  So some redundancy is necessary.  Likely the balance of cultural facts and mythology will be tweaked once I get the entire first draft finished.

The first scene is here.  If you like this story, you might also be interested in The Horse Master, High Queen Angelina’s story, which I’m offering in its entirety as part of PBW’s free e-book challenge last year.

Zahak tal’Cobra didn’t think much of the bedraggled foreign woman.  Her once fancy clothes were stained and torn.  Dust camouflaged her skin and hair so he could not confirm her coloring.  “Are you certain she’s a Lady of Green Land blood?”

The Far Illone trader rushed to assure him.  “Yes, yes, a Princess of the royal line, all the way from Shanhasson.”

Remarkable midnight blue eyes glared back at him.  Wrists bound with rough hemp and surrounded by his warriors, she did indeed stand like a queen, white and small and fragile like night-blooming jasmine.

Ah, the crucial question.  Was she a true White?  If not, she was of no use to him.  He would be better served to let the trader sell her to a slaver bound for Mambia.

An odd impulse banded his chest and clenched his jaw.  Heat flared deep in the pit of his stomach, searing flames roaring to life.  Instincts not his, not human, raged at him to seize the woman, drag her to the ground, and sink his teeth into her slender neck.

The dragon within stretched, primed to blaze forth in rage and violence. 

As his father before him, he was dra’gwar, dragon warrior, cursed by the burning blood of the Gods in his veins to destruction and death.  Merciless heat and unending thirst had been his people’s punishment all these generations for an ancient devalki, the sin that must be repaid.   

Yet he held on, fighting the Fire within.  The Last Days were nigh.  All signs proclaimed the Red Dragon was coming to Burn the world, but a remnant would be saved.  And Zahak was determined to lead that remnant to salvation. 

Tightening his concentration, he breathed deeply, forcing the Fire back down.  After a thousand years of punishment, the prophesies would be fulfilled.  He would not fail to protect his people in this time of great need.  Not even if it meant this fragile woman’s brutal death. 

Roughly, he asked, “What is your name?”

“Eleni.”

Her voice, so soft and mellow, but not afraid.  Again, he thought of the desert jasmine, and a nightingale singing from its fragrant branches.  “What tribe?  What family?”

“Eleni dal’Moran dal’Angelina, the High Queen of the Green Lands, who married a Keldari named Jakon rav’Tellan.”

Zahak blinked, his mind full of questions and possibilities.  His warriors murmured, the rustles of taamids loud in the desert stillness as scimitars were drawn.  If she belonged to Tellan, they could expect fierce fighting long before they reached the Wall.  His blood quickened at the thought of battle, and hope blossomed in his heart.  What chance that the woman he managed to find would claim the only tribe still carrying the White’s holy blood?

“A woman of tribe Tellan will make a fitting sacrifice to Agni.”  His second in command, Malum, spoke softly, trailing the tail of his supple whip through his fingers.  “If you can keep her long enough.”

“I cannot claim Tellan as my tribe,” the woman answered calmly.  “They are merely my… cousins.  My father was not Jakon.”

“Are you a Daughter?”

Emotion flickered across the woman’s face.  Pain.  Misery.  Failure.  Ah, such emotions he was intimately familiar with.  “Yes and no.”

“Are you descended from your Blessed Lady, whom we call Somma, the White Dragon, She Who Hung the Moon?”

“Her blood runs in my veins, yes, but I have no power.”

Zahak knew not what she meant, and quite honestly, he didn’t care.  The blood was enough.  Switching to Keldari, he negotiated a price with the trader and jerked his head at Malum to pay the man off.

With a malicious grin, the trader shoved the woman to her knees before Zahak and rushed to his wagons. 

Regal and silent, Eleni stared up at him.  Fear and tears he expected; the hope in her eyes bewildered him.  Did she have any idea what happened to Green Land women in the desert?

 “What are you going to do with me?”

When the time came, could he do it?  Fire blazed in his veins, and his voice thickened with emotion he dared not admit.  “I’m going to feed you to the Red Dragon and hope your blood purchases forgiveness for my people.”

Even more unexpected was her laughter.  Mirthless and ragged, but no tears, not from this strange, regal woman.  Perhaps she had lost her mind.  He didn’t have water to spare for a captive who would die soon anyway.  “Why do you laugh, woman?  You should beg for mercy.”

Solemn once more, she tilted her head, studying him.  What did she see, this fine Green Land lady?  A savage, a bandit, a jackal?  So he had been called, rightfully, and worse yet had he done. 

“It seems I have escaped one pit of hell merely to land in another.”

At last, something he understood.  He allowed a small smile to soften his face.  “Keldar is a hard land and a hard life.  No rain has fallen in a thousand years, save when a White was sacrificed years ago, and we suffer the endless heat of Agni for our sins.  I know hell very well.”

Thirteen Challenges from NINJA WARRIOR Thanks to Wanda, my whole family is addicted to Ninja Warrior on G4.  This show makes Survivor look like a vacation at Club Med.  Here are 13 challenges we love:   1.The log roll:  wrap your arms and legs around the log, roll down a bumpy man-made hill, and try to hold on!    2. Bridge of Blades:  the uneven bridge whirls as you run across, ready to dump you in the muddy water below! 3. Warped Wall:  like half of a skateboard pipe–only you have to run up the steep side and jump for the top. 4.Jump Hang:  Run, jump just right on the trampoline, and grab the net of ropes.  Climb up or beneath, but whatever you do, don’t touch the water below!  The water is deep enough that if you miss the ropes, you might completely disappear beneath dirty water. 5.Quintuple step:  hop from triangular shaped steps, two on a side, four total, and reach the platform, without slipping off the steep sides. 6.Big Boulder:  a huge fake “boulder” floating between two cliffs.  Jump on the boulder as a stepping stone to the other side, but pray it doesn’t spin you into the mud! 7. Tarzan Swing:  the final challenge in Stage One (depending on the season), jump from the edge, grap a very stretchy rope and swing across using as many ropes as needed to reach the other side–then climb up 20 feet or so to hit the red button before time runs out. 8. Spider Walk:  climb through a vertical, then horizontal, then down a vertical tunnel of plexiglass using only your hands and feet spread against the walls like a spider. 9. Reverse Conveyor Belt:  on your hands and knees, race through the converyor belt running backwards 10. Wall Lift:  the final challenge of Stage Two, push through three walls weighted from 66-110 pounds with time running out to hit the red button. 11.Body Prop:  holding yourself horizontal by pressing your palms and feet against plexiglass, make your way across a water pit 5 meters wide. 12.Cliff Hang:  using your fingertips, cling to the cliff about an inch wide, lift yourself up 20″ gap to the next tiny cliff, then back down another 20″, danging above a muddy pit. 13. The final stage is a 70+ foot tower, a combined spider walk and rope climb that must be climbed in 30 seconds.  I finally got to see Nagano, a fisherman, make it all the way to the top!  Only the second man to do so as far as I know.

Get the Thursday Thirteen code here! The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments. It’s easy, and fun! Be sure to update your Thirteen with links that are left for you, as well! I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 13 things. Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!
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P.S. Don’t forget to enter for a chance to win a free copy of Stephanie Tyler’s Risking It All.

 I read Stephanie’s debut Blaze Coming Undone and enjoyed it, so I thought I would give away an unsigned copy of the next Navy SEAL Blaze here!  For a chance to win Risking It All, simply comment on this entry or e-mail me at joely AT joelysueburkhart DOT com by midnight Friday, June 1st Central Time.  Anybody anywhere can enter, even if you won in the past.

I’ve been dying to grow some of my own tomatoes and zucchini, my two favorite summer veggies.  Of course, we live in a subdivision and don’t have any real gardening equipment.  Nor do I have the full knowledge.  While I did grow up on a farm, that was a loooong time ago.  There’s a bunch I don’t really remember.

I blogged last year about an idea my MIL gave me–using hay bales.  No need to till the yard up!  After that delicious salad I mentioned over the weekend, I decided to do it.  I researched some more on the internet and called around town until I found somebody with wheat straw bales (Lowes).  It took two trips in our minivan, but we got 4 hay bales, 4 tomato plants, 4 zucchini plants, two basil plants, and 4 huge bags of dirt (I think I’ll need to buy some more). 

MM is dying to start, but I have to soak the hay several times a day for at least 3 days.  We also need to cut the holes into the hay for the tomato plants, which gave me a wound.  A hunk of hay sliced open a huge flap of skin on my right hand index finger below the first knuckle.  It really grossed me out but didn’t bleed.  I probably need to cut the skin off, but I couldn’t find the manicure scissors.  We only got 2 of the 4 holes dug out.  Maybe it’ll get easier when the hay gets mushy.

Up accidentally this morning Dark and Early after a bad dream.  The Fire Within is up to 4,265.  Slow progress, but at last things started clicking.  However, I ended up in an unexpected place this morning, so I need to review my cards and shift things around.

May the thunder of the Great Wind Stallion’s hooves
Carry you home to His Clouds.
There, your hooves and feet will never tire;
Your bodies will never falter or fail;
You will gallop across the sky at Vulkar’s side; 
While we who remain will hear your thunder,
And remember.

~Sha’Kae al’Dan eulogy

I’m glad I’m not the only one.  May mentioned having a blogging block.  I’m definitely in a funk.  I haven’t wanted to read other blogs, nor mess with mine.  In fact, the delete button on some of my blogs was looking mighty attractive.  Why?  I have no idea.

The delete button is looking mighty tempting on my writing too.  So instead of reading what I have, I’ll just forge ahead and pretend like I know what I’m doing.  LM and That Man are napping; PM and MM are outside my window swinging where I can see them.  So I’d better take advantage of the quiet. 

Edited:  That didn’t last long.  MM lay down in the grass (which contains a healthy mix of white clover) and got stung by a honey bee on the palm of her hand.  I guess she didn’t quite shriek loudly enough to shatter glass because That Man and LM are still sleeping, but she definitely took a few years off my life.  Thankfully the baking soda paste appears to have helped, along with an ice pack. 

Nothing serious–just a funny misunderstood line of a song.  MM has been running around today singing Ol’ Suzannah “with a broken knee” instead of “with a banjo on my knee.”

Today was an all family day.  We slept in this morning, lazed around the house, and then ended up at Uncle Tim’s and Aunt Susan’s house.  Luckily Aunt BB was there.  We were a captive audience for an old high school friend of That Man and Tim, in an impromptu guitar concert.  At one point, That Man asked what the song was.  It was Bon Jovi.  Yep.  That bad, when people can’t recognize Wanted Dead or Alive.

However, things improved when the neighbor brought over a homegrown salad that was out of this world.  Man, I’m tempted to go buy some hay bales and try to grow some lettuce and tomatoes of my own!

Sorry for my unexpected absense yesterday.  I guess I needed a mental break from blogging.

For today’s snippets, I’ll use the first scene of my new novella, The Fire Within.  I’ve only got about 3K in this so far, so maybe your comments will kick my fanny in gear.  Note:  there’s at least one spot where I have [note to self] that I’ll leave for now.  Again, this is a true first draft for me, and I need to drag out my world map and get the country names.  This novella fits in the My Beloved world, intended as a bridge between BloodRose and Survive My Fire. 

Enjoy!

Blessed Lady above, let him kill me quickly.

Eleni refused to cower as her brother strode toward her, his face dark and twisted with rage beneath the simple gold circlet on his head. Blood splattered the front of his velvet frock and once pristine ruffled shirt. The messenger had been reduced to a dark smear on the white marble of the High Court.

From the very first day of Darius’s rule–when he executed his predecessor, wife, and three-year-old child–everyone in the Green Lands had learned to fear their new High King’s wrath.

“How close?” Veins throbbed in his forehead and neck, but his voice was painfully calm. Darius didn’t need volume to intimidate. “Can I stop them before they reach Allandor?”

“My contacts confirm she is already in Rashan.” Eleni’s stomach clenched, but her hands were steady. Her face, smooth. Her voice, the same melodic and deliberately soothing tone she had cultivated so painstakingly. From an early age, she learned best how to diffuse Darius’s temper in order to survive. “[country name] has already sided with her.”

Darius paced before the golden monstrosity he stole with murder and lies. Massive lions pawed above the High Throne, mouths gaping, claws like swords. Old blood stained the regal profiles. The last person to infuriate the High King found out exactly how vicious those talons were. The young noble suffered for two days dangling above Darius’s head before finally dying.

“The North Forest holds strong with me, and the Shanhasson Guard is mine.”

Prudence told her to keep her mouth shut; loyalty to her brother, her only remaining family, refused to stand silent when she had knowledge he needed. No matter how much he would dislike it. “The Guard here in Shanhasson is down to only two hundred strong, Your Majesty. Another hundred was sent to silence the rising rebellion in the east, along with two full divisions of Northerners. All were lost to Princess Jenna. You have few troops on hand, and resources stretched thin. We must–“

Darius whirled, charged, and before Eleni would soften the truth, she found herself dangling with his hand wrapped around her throat. “We, dearest sister? We must what?”

Her heart hammered in her chest, and instinct screamed at her to fight. To dig her fingernails into his forearm, to scream, to kick toward his groin. Yet she did none of these things. Fighting would only inflame him. Crying out would only incite his need to hear more screams and wails and pleading.

“Allies,” she forced the word out through her strangled throat.

He set her on her feet but kept his fingers locked about her neck. “I’m listening.”

Dark spots filled her vision and she couldn’t help a deep, fruitless breath, fighting for air through her constricted windpipe. “Disposable allies. Fighters. No claim to Throne.”

“Who?” His voice was still cold and menacingly soft, but he grudgingly loosened his fingers enough that she hauled in a wheezing breath. “The bitch has taken Allandor, my strongest enemy, along with all its allies. Pella will stand with me, but it’s only a duchy. No match for the other countries in our happy republic.”

Eleni took another deep breath of air before answering. She had a feeling he would dislike this answer as well. “Keldar.”

“Savages?” Darius laughed, his dark eyes dancing as he slowly squeezed his hand shut again. “Why should the High King of all the Green Lands seek help from desert bandits?”

A wave of nausea flooded her stomach as the darkness rolled back. So many times she feared he would kill her. She’d dreamed it for years, in a thousand gruesome ways.

Fragile hope burned in the spreading shadow of her mind, for he would never let her die so easily. Endless torture was much more to his liking. “Revenge.”

He waited for her to continue, but she couldn’t get enough air. Head aching, lungs blazing in agony, she clutched his wrist and tried to keep the pleas out of her eyes. Calm, cool acceptance. Not panic. Not tears. They would only infuriate him.

Impatient, he tossed her to the floor. She fell on her back, barely catching herself on her elbows to avoid smashing her skull open on the marble. Panting with her skirts tumbled crazily, she concentrated on breathing. Her silk stockings were bared to the room, but she made no move to cover herself. Darius would enjoy humiliating her before the entire High Court with worse if she acted missish. He’d done so, countless times already. He knew very well how best to torment and punish without a single mark.

“I’m waiting.”

“Would it not be poetic justice for you to use her distant relatives to quell her rebellion?”

Darius stroked his chin and jaw. “Perhaps. The idea has merit, but only if the savages would consider such an alliance. From the little we know of Keldar, they have no such inclinations, dearest. They know only thieving and killing.”

Now to play her most important card. The one ace that might win her freedom from beneath her brother’s boot heel. “They’ve shown an undue interest in Green Land women in the last few years, don’t you think?”

Eyes narrowed, he stared at her for several long moments before gesturing that she could rise and continue.

“We’ve lost two caravans to Keldari raiders in the past month, and both times they took the goods and Green Land women. The men were either killed or ignored. The merchant of the last caravan had a Mambian wife, and she was untouched.”

“Why? Perhaps the savages have no taste for exotic women.”

Eleni shook her head. “I don’t know, but I can find out for you. Hopefully whatever I learn will win them to your cause.”

“You?” Darius turned away, hiding his face from her. He knew how well she read people. It’s why he refused to allow her to leave his sight. “I can’t spare you, Eleni, not now. I considered sending you to Princess Jenna instead to parley.”

“Humbly, Your Majesty, I suggest that might be a mistake. Do you want your greatest enemy to have your best eye and ear? Why not use me, instead, to win a horde of savages you can loose on the rebels?”

He paced again, silent and hard and grim. He valued her skills as a negotiator, but he was also oddly possessive of her. Why, when he enjoyed beating and berating her for the simple pleasure of seeing her broken yet again?

“I can’t lose you, Eleni.”

Despite all the years of torture and abuse, her heart still warmed. Her only family left in this entire world. He’d done horrible things, and forced her to join him time after time. Yet he was her brother, and she loved him.

“Before father died, he told me that he dreamed I would claim the High Throne and legitimize his royal blood. The key to my success was you, dearest sister. As long as you were by my side, I would hold Shanhasson. But if I lost you–“

Darius threw himself into his High Throne and buried his face in his hands. Stunned, Eleni went to him and hesitantly laid her hand on his head. She had never seen such vulnerability from her brother.

“He told me I would be better off to cut your heart out of your chest before ever letting you out of my sight.”

Eleni’s hand froze. Horror churned her stomach, burning up her throat. She would well picture their father telling young Darius such a thing. Their family had long been tormented by nightmares. Such darkness and taint came through their bloodline. Touched by Shadow, they wrought evil in the world without premeditation simply by breathing. Her family’s existence was a testament to the evil done in the world by men’s hands, since their grandfather raped his own High Queen all those years ago.

Ignoring the terror screaming through her body, she forced her fingers back to his hair. She stroked him like a little boy and forced a sing-song lightness to her voice. “I’m never out of your sight, Your Majesty. Not when you can haunt my dreams and see me every night.”

“True.” Darius raised his head, a smile quirking his sensual lips. His eyes, so dark, so full of madness and hurt and death. Worst of all, though, was the mirth. The foul joy he found in such atrocities. He could kiss and pardon or murder with his own hand, and his eyes would never change. “I will walk in your dreams every night, dearest. I will know if you intend to betray me.”

His voice lowered to a silky smooth seduction that prefaced his most horrific crimes. He reached out and touched her neck with the steel blade of a knife she hadn’t even seen him draw. “I can kill without laying a single hand on you, Eleni. But it will be much sweeter to hear your screams, taste your blood, and earn your agony with my own hands. Do not fail me, dear sister. Or I will leave my Throne for the bitch daring to challenge me and hunt you down in the darkest, farthest reaches of the world.”

Relief and terror warred in her heart. To win her freedom, her brother must die. Yet she couldn’t do it, and the very people who would bring him to justice would rightfully execute her as well. She had to win allies–for herself. Someone far from Shanhasson and strong enough to protect her from him. Someone who could kill him if necessary.

Darius had chained her at his side her entire life with her love and duty. Now, before the darkness growing in her heart claimed the last bit of the hope, she had to flee. Before he killed her with that love.

Holly and Jean have both recommended Inspiration.  I tried it at least a year or two ago, and it just didn’t click for some reason.  Since I’ve tried several tools since then–and no single tool meets my needs–I decided to try it again.  Last night, I played with creating a graphical representation of the Green Land Monarchies.  Pretty interesting stuff, if I do say so myself. 

[Sis and Wanda, look closely, and you might see something very shocking.  *wink*  I can’t promise that little shocker will stay–but it was fun to consider!]

I don’t know that I’ll shell out the dough for Inspiration yet, but I did enjoy playing around in it.  Unfortunately, that means I didn’t get my 1K last night.    I also set up a private wordpress blog to use for story creation, sort of what I did with Beautiful Death and the My Beloved Scrapbook.  Only by making it private, I can put more detail in that’s significant to me, without worries that ideas will get stolen.  I got the idea from Jenny Crusie.  No, I have not started a new Writing Group!  But what a neat idea to use a private blog for more than just “blogging.”

Below the cut, you can see the graphic created by Inspiration.

(more…)

I worked for every word at first, but I got that 1K last night and then some in The Fire Within. 

I was worried about a time difference between scenes, but I think I can explain it through dialogue in the next scene.  There’s no reason to cover boring travel from Shanhasson to Far Illone.  Nobody cares but Eleni.  All that really matters is I figured out something HUGE that I literally didn’t know, despite all that planning and plotting and character mapping.  A huge bit of foreknowledge on Eleni’s part. 

I had her goal as simply winning allies for her brother.  But after working through that first scene, I realized she has a dual purpose, a slippery slope of escape and loyalty, fear and pride, love and hate. A very nice complication, if I do say so myself.

A breakdown of story cards below the cut if you’re interested.  Subject to complete and utter change as I work through this first draft!

(more…)

I’ve got the blahs.  Can’t get up in the morning.  Can’t stay awake at night.  Can’t drink my coffee on an empty stomach.  Even my eyes are blurry and watery.  I’m blaming most of the blahs on allergies.  We’ve all been battling sneezing, itchy eyes, etc. despite taking daily allergy medicine.

I did make slow progress last week on The Fire Within.  I finished prework for the characters, reviewed my plot cards again.  Then I started the first scene.  I think why I’m not as sure about this story, yet, is because Eleni doesn’t have the tremendous voice of Chanda from Survive My Fire.  I started her character letter (in first person) and it just took off.  I ended up writing all of her scenes in first.  Her voice rocked.  Eleni is an entirely different person (obviously), mired in a terrible political situation.  Darius is wonderfully evil and I already wrote an intriguing element for him that nasty Theo (in BloodRose) never even thought of doing.  Eleni is more quiet–by necessity.  She’s survived her brother’s atrocities, looking for the perfect chance to escape…. from the frying pan into the fire, so to speak.

About 1500 words so far.  With the end of the month just around the corner, I’d love to hit 1000 words a day this week.  We’ll see if I can kick my fanny in gear and beat this allergy haze!

How about you?