Game 27, Round 2
Okay, now that you're all used (or resigned) to the notion of writing first lines for romance novels, on we go to book two. This one is a fantasy/romance crossover: "Warprize" by Elizabeth Vaughan.
Here's the back cover copy...
Xylara is a Daughter of Xy, brought up to do her duty to her country, her king and her people. Her father, the Warrior King Xyron, is dead and her incompetent half-brother Xymund is on the throne; she has chosen to serve her people as a healer, until she is needed to make a marriage of alliance.
But the once-great kingdom of Xy is falling to the Warlord and his barbarian Firelanders, and her brother Xymund is forced to surrender. The terms are fair: the kingdom will remain under Xymund's control, and the taxes and tithes are reasonable. All prisoners and wounded are to be exchanged unharmed.
There is just one thing more: to ensure a true peace - no pillaging, no looting, no rapine - the Warlord has claimed tribute.
He claims Xylara, Daughter of Xy, to be his Warprize...
And a sampling from the middle of chapter 4...
The red-haired lad popped up next to me as I was cleaning a gashed forearm. "I's done, warrior. I's saved ya some biscuits and kavage, though they be cold now."
"I'm not a warrior," I replied absently. "I'm a healer."
His eyes got large suddenly. "You're the warprize."
I reddened but kept working. My patient, however, jerked up his head, and stared at the boy. "Warprize?"
"Lie still," I snapped at the man. He did just that, and made no further complaint.
The lad leaned over my shoulder and craned his long neck. "What ya doing?"
"Cleaning out this wound. It's soured." This was the worst of the injuries, and I was concerned about this man's condition.
He didn't pull back. "How can ya tell?"
"Smell."
He drew in a breath through his nose, which wrinkled in disgust. "That's the smell?"
I nodded as I tied off the bandage.
So, how would you begin this book?
Poll
Deadline is 21:30 Irish Summer Time (GMT +1) on Thursday, July 2nd.
Here's the back cover copy...
Xylara is a Daughter of Xy, brought up to do her duty to her country, her king and her people. Her father, the Warrior King Xyron, is dead and her incompetent half-brother Xymund is on the throne; she has chosen to serve her people as a healer, until she is needed to make a marriage of alliance.
But the once-great kingdom of Xy is falling to the Warlord and his barbarian Firelanders, and her brother Xymund is forced to surrender. The terms are fair: the kingdom will remain under Xymund's control, and the taxes and tithes are reasonable. All prisoners and wounded are to be exchanged unharmed.
There is just one thing more: to ensure a true peace - no pillaging, no looting, no rapine - the Warlord has claimed tribute.
He claims Xylara, Daughter of Xy, to be his Warprize...
And a sampling from the middle of chapter 4...
The red-haired lad popped up next to me as I was cleaning a gashed forearm. "I's done, warrior. I's saved ya some biscuits and kavage, though they be cold now."
"I'm not a warrior," I replied absently. "I'm a healer."
His eyes got large suddenly. "You're the warprize."
I reddened but kept working. My patient, however, jerked up his head, and stared at the boy. "Warprize?"
"Lie still," I snapped at the man. He did just that, and made no further complaint.
The lad leaned over my shoulder and craned his long neck. "What ya doing?"
"Cleaning out this wound. It's soured." This was the worst of the injuries, and I was concerned about this man's condition.
He didn't pull back. "How can ya tell?"
"Smell."
He drew in a breath through his nose, which wrinkled in disgust. "That's the smell?"
I nodded as I tied off the bandage.
So, how would you begin this book?
Poll
Deadline is 21:30 Irish Summer Time (GMT +1) on Thursday, July 2nd.