[McKusky]

Hi All! I am new here! I have been working on a book for, literally, years! Here is the blurb I have come up with:

A ruler that turns into a wolf. A world ruled by women. A man shunned. Can the people of Dumia and their alien allies, the Jurnhey-virat, stop a man scorned from destroying their culture? Ophelia will use everything in her power, including empaths, telepaths and aura-readers, to defeat a man and his followers who are intent on proving women aren't meant to be in charge.


I have a plethora of information that I've put together, including sketches (my profile pic is of the Jurnhey-virat named Melkiand), character profiles, myths and legends for the culture, etc. I am having a problem making my baddie well....bad enough! lol If anyone is interested in reading an excerpt, I will post the first few pages here for input. My family is not really so much into the sf/f and I'm having a devil of a time finding readers for input!! Thanks so much!!

[McKusky]

PART ONE


“Women are, for all intents and purposes, indomitable. It really requires an almost unimaginable confluence of crushing, cataclysmic forces to vanquish a woman.”
--Mark Leyner, Earthbonder






Ellurian Throne Inscription

The wolf does not
Lose time in sleep,
Nor on her belly
Does she creep.
The hawk from home
Oft takes flight,
While wolf stays near,
To guard through night.
Unlike the horse,
Not subject to others;
Leader of the Realm
She is Alpha Mother.







Month of the Bear, Day 7
Year 517

The sky, it is lighter than I’m used to, lighter than it is now. The cloud cover is less, the colors more vibrant. I see a dark silhouette, a black shadow staggering up a hill. The blazing orange of the sunrise is only a blinding streak, hampered as it is by thick, low-hanging charcoal clouds. A storm receding? A storm approaching? I cannot tell. I am paying attention to the figure, who falters, arms flailing. It is a woman. I think she might be sick or injured; she is not moving smoothly. One of her feet slips and slithers from under her. She plants her feet again and again. Finally she stands on top of the hill, her upper body listing a bit to the right as she stares at the sunrise. And then I see, as the light changes, she has not climbed a hill at all but a mound of bodies. One of her feet gives way again before she steadies herself. She is standing on limbs, slipping in blood.

(excerpted, Reagan Whiteshield’s dream journal)





Year 559

Chord paused in the doorway leading to the veranda and sighed. It was time. He was not looking forward to it, so he lingered, watching his wife work in the gardens.
She looked like a dark and exotic bloom herself, a part of the garden dance, bending and rising like a long-stemmed flower bowing in the breeze. Her thick jet-black hair was pulled up in twisted loops that cascaded and trailed down her back like vines, glistening in the sun. Her large floppy-brimmed hat sat atop her head like petals capping a stem. The apron Ophelia used over her flowing sleeveless tunic and pants looked prim and crisp against her raw beauty. He still marveled, even after a year and a half of marriage, that she was his.

Thrusting his hands into the pockets of his sleeveless over-tunic, Chord sauntered out onto the veranda, attempting to project ease and calm. When Ophelia straightened, placing her hand on the small of her back, he whistled a short low note followed by a long high one. It was the call used among the Alpha Circle of the Wolf Clan, known as the Pack. Everyone in the garden looked up, including Riley, their newly adopted daughter and Lumin, her black mutt of a MoorMate.

Ophelia’s face turned in his direction, her hand reaching to slip her thick hair over her pointed ear, as if it were a hindrance to her sensitive hearing. With her other hand, she shielded her sharp eyes from a break in the clouds that brought on a glare. Ophelia took in Chord’s posture and his steady gaze as the wind ruffled his thick blond hair. Her lips drew back, revealing a canine that was substantial and long. She released a brief low growl.

He waited for a heartbeat in the shade, loathing the idea of stepping into the stifling heat of the late Ellurian summer day. The perpetual cloudiness often acted like a thermal blanket once spring set in; the change of seasons noticeable only with the change in temperature.

Ophelia glanced over her shoulder, made eye contact with a garden tender and gestured towards her basket. With a graceful inclination of her head, the tender came and collected it. At this unspoken cue, others began to gather up their things and make their way inside.

Chord saw the tension in Ophelia’s posture and knew that she was still angry about the upcoming trials. He dropped his eyes and exhaled long and noisily, trying to release his own apprehension. He was no good to her if he was emotional in any way. One of his titles was The Anchor and for good reason. Sometimes he was all that stood between Ophelia and whatever had triggered the Alluid, or the wolf guise, in her.

He waited patiently for her to approach him. When she stood in front of him, Ophelia searched his face hungrily with her amber eyes. Chord remained still during her greeting ritual, else she growl at him or fix him with an angry stare and he so disliked the angry stare.

When Ophelia leaned forward to smell the skin of his neck, tracing the contours of the muscle with her sensitive nose, Chord leaned forward as well. He was well-versed in both Consortship and Alluid protocol. He inhaled, taking in her own personal scent of lavender and soil, fresh air and linen and some sort of musk.

Forgetting about their unwelcome visitor, he placed his hands on her waist and drew her near. He leaned forward to bury his face in her neck, in her scent, so important to a wolf. While he was thus preoccupied, Ophelia nipped at his exposed throat, causing him to start a little. She chuckled low in her throat.

Ophelia sank into his body, scrunching down a little to put her cheek on his heart, and he began to massage her low back where he knew it ached after a morning of gardening. She sighed and relaxed even further, allowing her eyes to flutter closed. Chord made a mental note to warm an herb pack for her later and that a hot bath would be in order for them both.

He tenderly tucked her thick hair behind her pointed ears and lifted the longest of the hanging loops from her shoulders and flipped them to her back. His hands slid up and down her spine in perfect contentment, a smile growing on his face as she relaxed into him.

Nessa, the High Mother’s personal assistant, cleared her throat from the shadows of the interior. Chord sighed. Kane was no doubt agitated by now. Not that that would be anything compared to Ophelia in a state of agitation, but Chord wanted to be rid of him as soon as possible.

Chord took Ophelia by the shoulders and gently pushed her away from him. The face she lifted was dreamy until she saw Chord’s face.

Remembrance transformed her, tightening her face until all traces of gentleness were gone. A growl started low in her chest. Chord watched as her amber eyes flared with golden light, lit up fiercely from the inside. Having been lulled by their interlude and forgetting why she’d come in from the garden in the first place, her anger had now returned.

“You don’t have to do this. I wanted to just exile him,” she said.

[kater]

Hi, welcome to sffworld :)
If you're looking for critique could you post any further work into the Stories section: http://www.sffworld.com/community/ and then just add a link in this thread for people to follow please. It will also allow people who don't visit the forums to read your work and comment.

[McKusky]

Ok, I looked through everything and thought I knew where to post my story for a critique. Then it was moved. Then I was asked to move it again! :o
so sorry!! for an expanded excerpt, please go to the story section and read it here (http://www.sffworld.com/community/story/3769p0.html):
Thanks!! Sorry for the confusion....
signed,
just a dumb newbie :)

[kater]

Not a problem at all, it's probably not as clear as it should be. We relaxed the rules about posting excerpts some, but obviously for extended pieces we'd like to save the forum space and put it in the Stories section so you can get more views. Honestly no worries and again welcome to sffworld :)