Rosemary Fryth
Well-Known Member
- Joined
- Dec 24, 2011
- Messages
- 61
Background information: My heroic epic fantasy trilogy was written over ten years ago and in the intervening decade I've hardly written a thing (except to online blogs and forums). Since the so-far, so-good success of Riothamus on Kindle, I've decided to start writing again, this time a stand-alone fantasy novel set here in South East Queensland. The extract I'm providing is the first page or two from chapter one. At this initial point of the story nothing much fantasical is happening (that leads in later), however given it is the starting point of the novel, it is the part I want to make just right. I had a little bit of writer's block to begin with, however now at chapter four I've found my feet and the rustiness of ten years is finally flaking off. I have a working title to the story, it is called 'Dark Confluence' and the word count is 927.
Jen floored her foot and slammed on the brake so hard that she was flung forward against the windscreen. Her glasses went flying and the bags of groceries, carefully positioned on the back seat of her elderly mini, scattered everywhere, rolling and bouncing about, spilling contents across the inside of her car. Dimly she heard a second screech of tyres and felt another sudden lurch and hard jolt as whoever had been tailgating her, smashed into the back of her car which sent her flying forward again catching her forehead painfully on the top of the steering wheel. Groaning, she turned the door handle and after releasing the catch on the frayed and useless safety belt, half fell from the car to immediately encounter the wrathful expression of the local plumber, Dave.
“Geezus Jen! Stop in the middle of the road next time, why don’t ya?” he yelled, whilst pointing back at his four wheel drive. “Good thing my bull bar took the impact. Do ya know how much it costs to replace a HiLux radiator? Do ya? Do ya?”
Jen shook her head and staggered to her feet, sagging against the side of the car, her head thumping painfully.
“Eh, you’re hurt then?” Dave, his anger dissipating forgot his own troubles for a moment as he regarded the small older woman propping herself against the now misshapen mini.
“My head hurts” Jen at last was able to say, her fingers gingerly exploring the tender lump which was rapidly forming on her forehead.
Dave shook his head and motioned her to move away from the car. “Come on then, sit ya’self on the side of the road whilst I move both our cars out of the way. We’re holding up traffic.”
Jen looked back to see a small line-up of cars and drivers either peering curiously at her and Dave, or more impatiently leaning on their horns. Sighing, she allowed herself to be steered to the footpath and she sat, more rapidly than usual, on the cracked concrete slab of the pavement.
“Wait here....” Dave told her, “I’ll be back in a tick.”
Jen watched him get into her car, restart it and manoeuvre it off the road and into a nearby parking bay. Within a few minutes his big four wheel drive was drawn up next to her on the road.
Dave leaned out of his car window and called to her, “look, ya car is over there. I’ve locked it and here are the keys...” he tossed her car keys out of the window and they landed in her lap. “I’ve rung emergency and they‘re on their way. I’d wait but I have a client with a flooded kitchen and I’m already late...” He stared at her quizzically “was there a child on the road?”
She shook her head, trying to remember however she could not think past the thumping headache.
“Well, I didn’t see anything, and there was nothing under your car. Perhaps whatever it was ran off?”
Jen shrugged eyes half closed against the painful thump, thump inside her head.
“See ya” he called, “I’ll ring ya later about the insurance and stuff.” He glanced back down the road, “I reckon ya car’s a write-off, those nose to tails always bugger up the smaller cars, doubt ya’ll be allowed to drive it. Oh and I can hear a siren.” He grinned ruefully “she’ll be right, just wait there, they know where to find ya” and then in a cloud of noxious diesel fumes, he was off and speeding down the road.
“Are you sure you are alright dearie?” enquired a voice above her.
Jen looked up squinting and made out a pink and purple haze, eventually the haze resolved itself into the ferret-like features of Miss Amelia Crane, the local gossip and chairwoman of the Country Women’s Association who had descended upon her as soon as Dave had departed the scene.
“Headache” Jen explained, touching for emphasis the now impressively large red swelling on her forehead.
“You best be off to the clinic then dearie, oh and the ambulance is here” she added quite unnecessarily as the big white vehicle with the painfully bright flashing lights pulled up where Dave’s four wheel drive had been only moments before. Jen found further conversation impossible as two burly blue uniformed medics shooed away the now growing crowd of onlookers back to a reasonable distance and started firing at her a barrage of questions.
“Was it a car accident love?” “Where does it hurt?” “Can you move your hands and feet?” “Are you dizzy?” “Do you have a headache?”
Jen answered their questions as best as she was able, and moments later was transferred and strapped onto a stretcher and loaded into the back of the ambulance. As the vehicle slowly pulled out into traffic the medic fussed about her, hooking her up to a myriad of devices, all she thought presumably to check her pulse and blood pressure.
“I’m fine” she hastened to assure him, “just a bump on the forehead and a bad headache.”
However he shook his head and muttered darkly about possible brain injury, whiplash, and having to be careful in case of spinal injuries. So Jen accepted his ministrations and closed her eyes, concentrating and trying to recollect what she had seen before the crash. After a few minutes she gave up, whatever she saw seemed to be rapidly fading from her memory, aided no doubt in part by whatever it was the medics had injected into her arm...
Chapter 1
Jen floored her foot and slammed on the brake so hard that she was flung forward against the windscreen. Her glasses went flying and the bags of groceries, carefully positioned on the back seat of her elderly mini, scattered everywhere, rolling and bouncing about, spilling contents across the inside of her car. Dimly she heard a second screech of tyres and felt another sudden lurch and hard jolt as whoever had been tailgating her, smashed into the back of her car which sent her flying forward again catching her forehead painfully on the top of the steering wheel. Groaning, she turned the door handle and after releasing the catch on the frayed and useless safety belt, half fell from the car to immediately encounter the wrathful expression of the local plumber, Dave.
“Geezus Jen! Stop in the middle of the road next time, why don’t ya?” he yelled, whilst pointing back at his four wheel drive. “Good thing my bull bar took the impact. Do ya know how much it costs to replace a HiLux radiator? Do ya? Do ya?”
Jen shook her head and staggered to her feet, sagging against the side of the car, her head thumping painfully.
“Eh, you’re hurt then?” Dave, his anger dissipating forgot his own troubles for a moment as he regarded the small older woman propping herself against the now misshapen mini.
“My head hurts” Jen at last was able to say, her fingers gingerly exploring the tender lump which was rapidly forming on her forehead.
Dave shook his head and motioned her to move away from the car. “Come on then, sit ya’self on the side of the road whilst I move both our cars out of the way. We’re holding up traffic.”
Jen looked back to see a small line-up of cars and drivers either peering curiously at her and Dave, or more impatiently leaning on their horns. Sighing, she allowed herself to be steered to the footpath and she sat, more rapidly than usual, on the cracked concrete slab of the pavement.
“Wait here....” Dave told her, “I’ll be back in a tick.”
Jen watched him get into her car, restart it and manoeuvre it off the road and into a nearby parking bay. Within a few minutes his big four wheel drive was drawn up next to her on the road.
Dave leaned out of his car window and called to her, “look, ya car is over there. I’ve locked it and here are the keys...” he tossed her car keys out of the window and they landed in her lap. “I’ve rung emergency and they‘re on their way. I’d wait but I have a client with a flooded kitchen and I’m already late...” He stared at her quizzically “was there a child on the road?”
She shook her head, trying to remember however she could not think past the thumping headache.
“Well, I didn’t see anything, and there was nothing under your car. Perhaps whatever it was ran off?”
Jen shrugged eyes half closed against the painful thump, thump inside her head.
“See ya” he called, “I’ll ring ya later about the insurance and stuff.” He glanced back down the road, “I reckon ya car’s a write-off, those nose to tails always bugger up the smaller cars, doubt ya’ll be allowed to drive it. Oh and I can hear a siren.” He grinned ruefully “she’ll be right, just wait there, they know where to find ya” and then in a cloud of noxious diesel fumes, he was off and speeding down the road.
“Are you sure you are alright dearie?” enquired a voice above her.
Jen looked up squinting and made out a pink and purple haze, eventually the haze resolved itself into the ferret-like features of Miss Amelia Crane, the local gossip and chairwoman of the Country Women’s Association who had descended upon her as soon as Dave had departed the scene.
“Headache” Jen explained, touching for emphasis the now impressively large red swelling on her forehead.
“You best be off to the clinic then dearie, oh and the ambulance is here” she added quite unnecessarily as the big white vehicle with the painfully bright flashing lights pulled up where Dave’s four wheel drive had been only moments before. Jen found further conversation impossible as two burly blue uniformed medics shooed away the now growing crowd of onlookers back to a reasonable distance and started firing at her a barrage of questions.
“Was it a car accident love?” “Where does it hurt?” “Can you move your hands and feet?” “Are you dizzy?” “Do you have a headache?”
Jen answered their questions as best as she was able, and moments later was transferred and strapped onto a stretcher and loaded into the back of the ambulance. As the vehicle slowly pulled out into traffic the medic fussed about her, hooking her up to a myriad of devices, all she thought presumably to check her pulse and blood pressure.
“I’m fine” she hastened to assure him, “just a bump on the forehead and a bad headache.”
However he shook his head and muttered darkly about possible brain injury, whiplash, and having to be careful in case of spinal injuries. So Jen accepted his ministrations and closed her eyes, concentrating and trying to recollect what she had seen before the crash. After a few minutes she gave up, whatever she saw seemed to be rapidly fading from her memory, aided no doubt in part by whatever it was the medics had injected into her arm...
