Both books are almost ready to go!!! Here are little sneaky looks at each!!
I longed for his eyes to open, the sparkle in his bright blue eyes always bought a smile to my face. His eyes that reminded me so much of my father’s eyes. I was always sad when I thought about how much my son would miss by not having his Grandpa in his life. I listened to the noises that the machines in the room made. They had a melody all of their own if you sat and listened to them day after day. But the only one that made sense to me was the steady beat coming from the heart monitor, this was the important to me, the one I really cared about. As long as that machine continued to drum then everything else would surely be fine. I looked at the others that cluttered the room, each of them giving off their own strange noise sending data out. I pictured the great supercomputer that I imagined must gather all of this information; I laughed as I imagined it sitting in the basement of the large hospital building consuming all the information from the many patients.
Highland Fairlings – Book Two – Ebha
“Look at the wee lass and say aye, Farrell.”
Doing as he was bid, Farrell watched the expressions of the surrounding witnesses. All looked tense and ready to leave.
Relieved when he was unbound from the lass he thought to remove his hand but his fathers strong grip stilled his actions. Kneeling beside him again, his fathers large hand dwarfed his as he spoke quietly, “Lad ye need tay give the lass a wee fairling. Something awfa special.”
Farrell’s free hand immediately and unconsciously sought the smooth surface of his newest treasure. Just a month past he had helped his uncle to skin the howling, raging demon monster that had plagued their lands and slaughtered their livestock. He heard the word wolf many times but to his ears the name did not do justice to the snarling, matted creature he had witnessed meet its end at the hands of his clan.
The tooth was his proudest possession. His gift to commemorate his first involvement with a hunt.
Unhappily he removed the leather thong from which it hung and pleaded silently with his father. He did not want to part with something so special, and he saw no reason that the blabbering lass would deserve such a fine trophy. And yet the soft look in his father’s eyes pleased him.
Pushing the tooth at the wee lass, he angrily watched as the bairn proceeded to shove it towards her mouth. Catching her hand, he grimaced, did the wee thing nay ken nothing? He tied the throng to her belt, using the knot that Alasdair had taught him to make sure that little fingers couldn’t pry it loose.
“Now, give the lass a wee kiss.”
He looked sharply at his father. Had the man lost his senses? He was Farrell Quainn, nine year old heir to these lands, and he didn’t go around kissing no baby’s.
“Do as I bid, mind.” His father reminded him.
Shocked and displeased at the command, he obeyed, leaning down and scrunching up his nose as he quickly pecked a kiss to a squidgy cheek.
He stood uncomfortably as the wee lass flung her arms around his legs, shocking him with the strength of her grip.