More excerpts from Angelo, Texas.08:50 Jan 31 2015
Times Read: 642
I don't have chapters - I have a prologue and four 'books', which are basically novellas. The books' 'breaks' will be obvious by flourons, once published (Jesus - whenever that will be...lol). The novellas come together to create one novel.
From the prologue: (1531)
The high priest knelt down and pulled back the skin that covered the giant’s face. The youthful features of the god were of a pleasing aspect; from what Xajoj could see within the folds of animal skins, the god had long straight, black hair, which partially covered the metal collar around his neck. With the exception of having pale skin like the invaders, he looked similar to some of the peoples of the northern grasslands.
With great care, Xajoj raised the god’s upper lip. He seemed satisfied with the sharpness of the canine teeth. Emboldened, the high priest used a thumb and index finger to open one of the god’s exotically shaped eyes.
He bolted upright, and stumbled back, in awe.
“What is it, Holy One?” whispered the interpreter in fear, as she also took a few steps back.
The High Priest Xajoj turned around slowly, with a rapturous look upon his face.
“I had hoped…and it is true…” he uttered.
“His eyes are grey, like the thunderclouds…”
From Book One: Remiel (1741)
Ana held a small vial of sal volatile under Carlota’s nose. Carlota’s eyes snapped open to find long-lashed hazel ones gazing down at her with concern. She lifted her head from Padre Benítez’s lap as she slowly raised herself up to a seated position.
“Señorita Carlota – you gave us quite a scare” stated Ana. “We are lucky that Padre Benítez caught you before your head hit the floor.”
Carlota glanced at the young priest.
“Thank you, padre” she moaned. The smelling salts gave her a headache. Padre Benítez stood up, and helped Carlota to her feet.
“Maybe you should sit for a moment” he said, as he led her to a bench.
Carlota took stock of the young priest’s appearance: She noticed that his golden-brown curls were an inch or two longer, and his tonsure was filling in with the new growth of hair. He had a few day’s growth of beard, and he still bore dark circles under his eyes, giving him a haunted appearance. To Carlota, his pale face and dark robes transformed Padre Benítez into an ethereal, religious figure from an El Greco painting.
Saint Francis of Assisi, meditating with the crucifix and skull…
“You are handsome, even though you appear quite exhausted…” she mumbled, as she took a seat. She caught Ana’s raised brow, and a questioning look on Padre Benítez’s blushing face. Carlota had no idea why she blurted out the compliment. She quickly deduced that her mental comparison of Padre Benítez with the saint - and her odd comment - must have come about from the use of the smelling salts…
From Book Two: Penemuel (1882)
She went outdoors. While standing on the front porch, she saw George in the distance, in the corral preparing to leave with Sparks – her father’s favorite horse.
“George!” she shouted, very un-lady like. “Don’t leave just yet. Please!”
JoAnn lifted the heavy skirt of her dress with its cumbersome bustle, and practically ran towards him. When she reached him, out of breath, George’s back was towards her, as he tucked his buckskin jacket into a saddle bag. She noticed the tension in his broad shoulders; he refused to acknowledge her presence. JoAnn sighed.
“George…please turn around.” She was afraid that he would continue to ignore her. He would mount Sparks, and ride off without a word. Tears stung her eyes.
Unbeknownst to JoAnn, George had inhaled deeply at her approach, and had stopped breathing. He didn’t know how to react towards her. He told himself that he was an awkward, poor ranch hand, who didn’t have a chance in hell of winning a pretty, smart girl like JoAnn Bell, the daughter of a prominent doctor. Would she pity him and his poverty? He prayed not, as that would be worse than taking a bullet in the gut.
JoAnn watched George’s shoulders relax as he exhaled.
George turned around and gazed at her longingly. He was lost in her big beautiful hazel eyes. On impulse, he removed the handkerchief from his back pocket, and dabbed at her tears.
JoAnn shocked George - and herself - when she took a hold of his hand, and held his warm calloused palm to her cheek. She heard the catch in his breath.
They remained standing in the corral for a full minute before George broke away; it was up to him to maintain propriety.
“Maybe we should go back to the house” he whispered huskily. JoAnn nodded mutely as he retrieved his jacket from the saddlebag. JoAnn wanted to help him into it, but she dared not touch him again.
From Book Three: Shemhazai (1948)
One afternoon, Huey returned from town in Nathaniel’s new black Ford pickup, after a visit from the barber. He had a dozen pink roses for Anna May, and two fine Cuban cigars for Nathaniel. He didn’t know where his life would take him, but on this day, he actually felt positively happy. As a matter-of-fact, he was beginning to feel like a normal human being…
With the exception of the luring of beautiful women, the blood-drinking, the occasional murder of social deviants, and the waves of deep dark depression, Huey felt that he could be just as normal as the next guy.
Well…let’s also not forget the fact that I haven’t aged a day.
Huey walked into the kitchen from the back door, to find Nathaniel and Anna May dancing cheek to cheek in the living room, to Artie Shaw’s ‘Begin the Beguine’ playing on their new Philco radio.
Huey was frozen where he stood, transfixed by the sight of the elderly couple.
They are so in love…he thought, as a woman’s face from thousands of years ago assailed his mind.
The living room scene - plus his painful ancient memories - immediately brought tears to Huey’s eyes. He quickly brushed them away, and waited until the dance was over before entering the living room. Anna May saw Huey first.
“My, my, Huey! What ya’ got there?” she exclaimed. Nathaniel turned around to see the gorgeous pink roses in Huey’s hands.
“Just a little something, Ma.” He handed the bouquet to Anna May. She deeply inhaled their scent and beamed with delight.
“Oh yeah – old man. I’ve got a little something for you as well.” Huey pulled the cigars from his shirt pocket and placed them in Nathaniel’s hands, gently squeezing them.
Nathaniel raised his head to study Huey’s face.
“You always bring us gifts Huey, and you know that we ‘preciate ‘em. But something tells me that this time is different. You plan on leavin’ us, son?”
From Book Four: Araqiel (2014)
When the two women got off the bus at their stop, Deborah carried most of Mrs. Nguyen’s bags to her front door.
“So – when is your grandson arriving?” Deborah asked, as she sat the bags on the floor in the entryway.
“In a week, dear. It will be nice to have him visit. I’ll have family here for the holidays!” Mrs. Nguyen exclaimed. “If you can spare some time from your parents’ home, we’d love to have you here!”
What the hell am I saying? Mrs. Nguyen thought. She had no clue as to how Aiden would behave with company. Damn – he wasn’t yet fit for company… and what if he attacked the poor girl and drained her dry? With his man-part sticking out?
“I’d be happy to visit, Mrs. Nguyen…Grace” Deborah replied. She was very curious about the mysterious grandson. “Well” she said, as she opened the front door. “Call me if you need anything.” Deborah smiled as she shut the door behind her.
Bà nội, I want to thank you for helping me. Did you get the machete?
Mrs. Nguyen marched through her kitchen into the garage.
“No – I didn’t get the machete. How in the hell could I explain buying a damn machete! I’m going out to the hardware store now. It isn’t far.” She defiantly crossed her arms over her chest.
“Grandmother – I didn’t mean to upset you. I just want to get the task over with.”
Aiden leaned against the washing machine, with the blanket wrapped around his waist. His arms were also crossed over his chest, and his torn broken wing rested on top of the dryer. A small smile formed on his lips.
“I don’t plan on draining Deborah dry, with my man-part sticking out.”
COMMENTS
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Isis101
02:04 Mar 18 2015
I value his 'review' very much!
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UpirLikhyj
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00:09:27
Mar 17 2015
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Isis... you are quite the writer. I loved the segments of the novellas you presented. Each is well written and flows naturally without contrivance or formulaic pretense revealing in each emotional depths to the various characters you want to learn more about and understand better, which is exactly what a good writer tries to inspire in the reader. I am VERY impressed! :) :) :)