Okay, I’ll totally admit I’m cheating a bit here. My current WIP isn’t yet 77 pages, and although I have other novels, I picked this one because I knew about what sorts of fun stuff was going on about 77 pages in. I finished this novel four years ago – dreamed it up a little over five when I became an auntie, and I was kind of disgusted with how young girls in particular are marketed to. My niece was a December Baby, and I went to the toy store at Christmas time and kind of saw things like an adult rather then my usual, “Whatever.” I wrote this novel for her – and in this segment, she’s got one line. I’ve had the weirdest positive rejections with this novel, (maybe I’m tipping too many sacred cows) but this segment starts on page 76 – it’s more fun to read it this way, so call me a cheater if you’d like. Our context: It’s really hard to shake up Winnipeggers sometimes, even if you are on a quest from The Prince of the Faeries.
Garnet and Silver: A Faerie Tale
“Maiden, I have been given powers from the Prince of the Faeries himself, and-” he narrowly dodged an aggressive bike rider.
“Passing on the left!” shouted the second biker.
Moaz waited for the five cyclists to pass before continuing to address Jane. “-and as such have great stake in this-” someone hit him with a Frisbee. His eyes sparkled and Jane thought they turned red. “Who threw that?!” He faced away from her and Betty and shook his fist.
“Shakespeare in the Park freaks?” asked a teenage boy, laughing. His collie went for the Frisbee.
Moaz had enough, and showed the youth and his dog just what a chosen warrior of the Prince of the Faeries could do. He called power to his hands and light came to his fingers, causing his hair and clothing to swirl despite the lack of wind.
“Fireworks!” a young girl clapped, eating ice cream with her little brother and parents on a nearby bench.
“Don’t stare at him, Scarlet,” her father said, grabbing her hand, and making them get up and hurry along the path. “You’re just encouraging him.”
“As I was saying,” Moaz said, slightly humbled, before realizing both Jane and Betty had run off while he was distracted. “My master is not going to like this…”
Unless I get tagged a second time, expect to get more elements of style from me next week. And yes, I have been told about my horrible sense of humor.