Welcome to Tuesday Tales, where authors write weekly excerpts based on word and picture prompts. The prompt this week is dirty. I continue with my Highlander Time Travel romance featuring Torsten and Lana. When you finish reading my snippet, make sure to visit all the talented authors of Tuesday Tales.
The echoing music of the bagpipes continued as the two men climbed the ridge leading up to the Bone Woman’s cottage. Lew, knowing the route from years past, spoke over his shoulder to Tor. “My throat is as dry as a corn husk. ‘Tis a far steeper rise than I recall.”
Tor grunted. “Spring flooding sheered it over the years I’m thinking. I’m also parched. A quick swallow at the top will do us well. If ‘tis a proper appearance the lady expects, we’ll have to take a further moment for that. Your hair is a thicket again.”
Lew’s growled and retorted, “I cannot favor you with another glance, cousin. I must save my eyes from such a sorry sight.”
Tor grinned. Life wouldn’t be half so much fun without Lew around as entertainment. And to keep him on his toes.
When they were about halfway, the haunting notes gave way to a cacophony of harsh and unwelcome sounds. Shouts punctuated the air. Screeching, thumping feet, metal clashing against metal, a woman screaming. The hairs on Tor’s neck bristled.
Lew froze in his tracks for a brief moment and then scrambled faster.
Tor did the same. That scream tore at his insides. A sinking feeling assaulted his gut, as the noises got further away and finally wafted into silence. An eerie silence. His warrior’s eyes narrowed into that empty sound. “Have mercy,” he muttered from between clenched teeth, oaths begging to pour from his lips.
He heaved himself over the top seconds after Lew. They both sprung into fighting mode, swords at the ready. Side by side, they raced toward the cottage. An ivy covered, thatched dwelling, it sat a distance away from the cliff’s edge. As he ran, his sharp eyes spanned a half circle, on the lookout for movement.
They slowed, seeing the cottage door ajar. A wayward wind pummeled it back and forth into the door frame. If a woman was in there, and able to do so, she’d stop that. Either close it or open it. There was no one home now. Tor felt it in his bones. Still, he had to make sure. A fat goose lay mutilated on the rock bordered path. A duck quacked plaintively near its corpse. A sad bouquet of wildflowers lay strewn across the dirty, bloody steps. Tor grabbed the door, easing it open.
I hope you enjoyed the snippet based on the word, dirty. Thanks for stopping by. Check out the other excerpts at Tuesday Tales.
Cheers & Happy Reading!
Flossie Benton Rogers, Conjuring the Magic in Romance
All rights reserved, copyright @ 2022 Flossie Benton Rogers
What a place to stop! I need to know what happened. Great job.
I’m glad you want to know what happens next! Thanks, Susanne.
Whoa, what a place to stop!
You really worked this section, Flossie—going from the light banter between Tor and Lew to the explosive middle, then the tension-filled eerie ending. So well done!
A lot did happen during that climb, true! Thanks, Mae.
Oh no! I have to know what happened! Is the Bone Woman dead? What does it mean for Tor? Great job!
He didn’t expect this one. Me either lol.
Oh my gosh! How can you leave us there??? What a suspenseful story! And I loved the line about his hair becoming a thicket again — so evocative, I could really see it! Love your writing. And y ou have intrigued me beyond belief. Great story.
I’m glad you found it suspenseful. Thank you! You never know with action romances.
I’m with the others – HOW could you stop right there??? (I know, I know…the 500 word limit LOL)
Great job!
Heh heh– that or mischievousness.