I'm taking a little hiatus from Emilie's story to work on an idea for a medieval Christmas short story. Yes, I know it's early and it certainly doesn't feel very Christmasy here at 100+ degrees, but I'm a slow writer, so I have to start now to have something by December. (I do hope to get a first draft finished well before then, though!)
My new little story is set in medieval England and is about a young woman named Meg. Here are some sentences I wrote for her story this week.
Monday: (Out of town, taking my sister to the airport, although I did make some starting notes when I got home.)
Tuesday: She stumbled back against her bed and screamed like a madwoman.
Wednesday: "I will not marry you and if I hear so much as a footfall, I’ll crack you over the head.”
Thursday: "Do you wish to spend eternity in a kettle of boiling water or roasting in a fiery oven or in a field of eternal lice while chattering, fork-tailed demons claw your flesh and laugh at your piteous cries?”
Friday: “If you try to harm me while these relics are in my hand, you will very likely drop down dead.”
Saturday: “Your former betrothed is dead.”