Trouble in the Tomb

Hello, I am back :). Thank you for the comments you gave me on my last post. I liked them. And here is another part.

Evie

While in college, Jeremy had watched Indiana Jones with some of his classmates. Dr. Irving always reminded him of Indiana Jones' father, right down to the deep voice. It had been weird when he had first come to work for them, now he knew he was going to miss it.

“Shouldn't I get back to camp?” Dr. Kempis asked after awhile. “We left them all alone without any supervision.”

Still Irving didn't look up from his book. “You wanted to come.”

“Well, I wasn't thinking-”

“I asked if you wanted to stay but you said you wished to see the arrival of Nathan Marshall. Besides, Sam is at camp. Everyone will be fine,” Irving interrupted.

"He insulted you, Captain!" "So that's when you hit him." "No! I knew you wouldn't want us to get into a fight over that." "Oh, well why did you punch him?" "Well, he said the Enterprise was rubbish. THAT'S when I punched him."

 *Trips in, crashes head first into a chair, falls to the floor. Gets up quickly, adjusts cloak. Smiles sheepishly.*

 Ahem...Well, if you didn't notice, I'm back. But, again, I have no book bits to post. So I thought I would follow Miss K. Barret and post a small summery of my book. Because that is a clever idea, and it means I will have something to post about. So, anyhow, this is from my book The Broken Blade. And it has it's own page on my site if you want to go have a look around. But I won't make you, because I'm not an evil overlord...YET. BAHAHAHAHAHAHA...*Cough, cough.* Sorry, still working on the evil laugh. 

 Okay, here it is. I've been working on this summery for awhile so let me know if you think I should change anything. 8-D This is just the first half. 

  Long ago, the king of Nightshade was killed in battle. It was said that, as he died, he fell atop his own sword, snapping the blade in two. However, when his body was recovered, the blade was missing. Now, hundreds of years later, Nightshade is without a king and the land is being invaded. 

 Countries are divided, peoples warring among themselves. Without unity, they will certainly be conquered, but with no king to unite them there is almost no hope. 

 But there is a rumor. 

 It is said that if a person was to find the blade and fix it they would be given magical powers that would enable them to free the land and make them the new king. Many believe this legend. Few don't. But when hope is almost gone, the people will cling to anything.

 Then one day, a young man wakes up on a farm. He has no memory of who he is or where he has come from, he cannot even remember his own name. All he can remember is something about a sword. So he sets out in the hopes he will find someone who knows him, and instead meets up with a band of outcasts boys who live in a local village near the coast.

For the Benefit of Miss Jack

Miss Jack visited my blog earlier and asked what my book, Lonish the Swordmaster, was about.  I had posted some character descriptions there, but I thought that it would be nice to tell the plot here, for her benefit.
Basically, it is a fantasy set in a world (which my brother and I made up) that is a lot like ours, except for one mysterious land.  The story is supposed to be told from over a thousand years after it happened.  The main character, Modran Lonish, travels with his older brothers and a small group of other people to this land, called the Land of Lucor.  Once there they find that it is peopled with Dragons, Fairies, and other mythical creatures, including the dreaded Dragyol, larger, more powerful, and a lot more frightening than a Dragon.  Right at the beginning Lonish meets Heleopoilte Tajisscra, the right hand Fairie of the Lady of Ribigalitorre, Diavla.  Tajisscra is impressed with Lonish's strength and skill and wants to use him to defeat his ruler so that he can take over the Land of Lucor.  Thankfully, Lonish has met the noble Cheol Ruvin, or elves, as the humans call them, and found a friend in Elstav Hpetsen, the son of one of the elf lords.  Elstav manages to protect Lonish, but of course, Tajisscra catches up to him and fools Lonish into taking lessons from him so that he will become a swordmaster.
Main characters include the Modran family, including Kiltya, Mitrai, and Lonish; Kiltya's wife, Laiarol; Elstav Hpetsen; Nevarl Osrs, another Cheol Ruvin and an enigmatic character; Oln, a talkative unicorn; Birinin, Elstav's older sister, a maid who knows a lot about everything; Belofte, Elstav's mother, the oldest and wisest  living creature in the world; and  Heliopolite Tajisscra, the cunning villain.
Thanks for reading.

Sphagnum Cymbifolium

Research. I loathe it.
I don't mind it if I have to research something I'm interested in (such as fifes and piccolos).
But if I have to research a topic I'm not interested in, and don't know anything about, it becomes tiresome easily.
Last night I was face with the problem of research. I have a character and he's a doctor but he loves looking for plants and animals (he's kind of like the doctor from the Master and Commander movie). My character finds some moss. But what is the Latin name for moss? He would know it. So I pulled up the internet and Sphagnum Cymbifolium came up.
(Just a side note.... Verges Jr. is the creature I asked for help about in an earlier post. I decided to make it a baby Tapir)

"This is the ideal place for a camp!" Sebastian broke the awed silence. "We have water, shelter, light...."
"A new specimen of Sphagnum Cymbifolium!" Verges cried out. He ran to the pond and started scraping a greenish plant from the rocks. "Most uncommon," he murmured, "Usually it grows in bogs and marshes! How very interesting! This will require much further study."
"First Verges Jr. now new moss? We are glad you are so easily satisfied Verges." Toms remarked.
The rest of the morning was spent exploring every nook and cranny of the cave and glade.

A Writer's work is never done

Wow, this is the first time I have ever posted on this blog, so be sure to comment and tell me what you think.
This is a snippet of the story I am currently working on, entitled Lonish the Swordmaster.  It has been in the making for A VERY LONG TIME.  I have never been able to finish all the legends and stuff that I want to put in, so even though the actual book is not old, the making of it has been going on for a long while.

“I have yet two other daughters,” said Vayama.  “Shalt thou be pleased to dine with us?  I know not what thou eatest, Modran Lonish, but tonight we eat the light and the honey of flowers.”

            Lonish smiled.  “That sounds lovely, your Majesty,” he said.  “I have never eaten that before, but I’m sure it will be delicious.”

            Valgorenhet grinned broadly.  Lonish thought he could distinguish glowing freckles on her white face.  “What dost thou eat when thou art with the Mortals?”

            “I, er, well, we ate lots of things.  I really liked roasted venison, and that with some turnips and potatoes in the gravy.  And hot apple dumplings, served with rich cream.  Mother used to make them with a thick syrup, but Laiarol makes them with thin.  Laiarol is my older brother’s wife,” he explained.  “Kiltya is my oldest brother, and he led us here.”

            Valgorenhet was not to be sidetracked.  “What is venison?” she asked.

            “It is the meat of deer,” explained Lonish.

            Valgorenhet’s eyes grew wide.  “That is disgusting!  Thou dost eat deer?  How canst thou, without growing ill?”


Thanks for reading.

"And she's a woman...oh shut up! I'm dying!"

  Trips in, falls into a near by table, crashes to the floor. That could have looked more dignified.

 So, here I am, back and all that. I would say something witty and such, but I'm sick and I don't feel like it. So here is my story. Enjoy. 

 Jack and her sardine Nemo

 The fog was particularly thick this evening, much thicker then the soup Jack had eaten for dinner. Sometimes she wished she could pile the fog into a bowl and eat it, it couldn't taste any worse then the dinners she usually had and it would likely fill her up much better.

As if he read her thoughts Max, her faithful Doberman Pincher, lifted his head and grunted. Jack laid her hand on his black head, patting him gently.

“I know,” she told him, “you're hungry too. Blimey! That soup was nothing more then water!”

Max sighed in agreement and Jack's stomach added in a complaint by rumbling. She quickened her step, smiling at the thought of breath and maybe even meat. Anything but potatoes. She was sick of potatoes. These thoughts, and these alone, filled Jack's head as she hurried through the back streets of London. She would have continued in them, thinking only of food, if Max hadn't suddenly stopped walking and growled.  

A Glimpse of Beauty

I've taken a trip here and honestly, I think nature is the only peaceful place to find God's Beauty and marvelous Works.


The air flows through 
The waters rush to their destination 
The rocks slip under your feet 
Watch out!


You breath hard
You want to fall,
But His Strength guides you through it all!

Trouble in the Tomb

Hello! I thought I should post, since I haven't in awhile. I decided to re-write my books instead of editing them, that's what Jack always does and it seems to work for her. And my books need a lot of editing so re-writing might just be best.

Here is what I wrote so far today.

The sun was hammering in the windows, pounding down on Dr. Jeremy Huddleson's back like Dr. Kempis had the day he had stolen his socks and filled them with sand. He debating moving away from the large windows, but the only empty seat was right next to Dr. Kempis and the man was still annoyed with him over this morning's prank. Jeremy didn't know why. It had just been a small spider he had dropped on his head to wake him up.
“They're late.” Dr. Kempis tapped his watch with an impatient finger.
“I think you will live,” the last member of their party said around his book. Dr. Irving was the oldest of the three with a stock of white hair and bushy eyebrows that always made Jeremy think of caterpillars.
“I'm hungry,” Dr. Kempis whined.
“Grow up,” was all the sympathy Dr. Irving had for him.