Here are some new sentences from The Lady and the Minstrel. I'm off to a writers conference later this week. I don't know how much time I'll have to write between all those writing classes, but let's keep our fingers crossed that I can squeeze at least five new sentences in! ;-)
Monday: If the intrigues of the royal court had affected his minstrel’s life, it had done so in so tangential a way that Robert could not have cited an instance.
Tuesday: And yet the same instincts that warned Robert about the earl also convinced him that the kisses in her chamber had not been a lie.
Wednesday: Her voice had gone small, as though nervous of what he might think of her admission, but she rushed on before he could speak.
Thursday: Her lips drooped so sadly at what she clearly interpreted as a rejection that Robert held out his hand for the flute before he could stop himself.
Friday: She should dread what awaited her return to castle—her father, the earl—but instead, as she trotted her mare beneath the spiked iron teeth of the raised portcullis, her heart still sang with the final melody that Robert had piped for her before they parted.
Saturday: “She said you had probably gone to the village, even though she says you’re forbidden to do so—I don’t remember your mother having such a fearsome frown when I was a boy—so I rode into Lyndeard and searched high and low for you, but no one there had seen you.”