Welcome 2013….

The holidays are over and it’s back to work. The Poetry Anthology is coming on nicely and I have now asked Judy Bullard to masterfully create a cover for it – A job she always does so magnificently.

I have picked up “The Sword and the Rose” again and have resumed typing it up. I am now half way through chapter 18, with 4 more to go [approximately 120 pages]. How about a small teaser from it? This is the opener for Chapter 6:

The sound of thunder rumbled in the distance, and flashes of fork lightening dissected the darkened sky intermittently. The landscape, already marred by the fighting, was now becoming more depressing with the arrival of rain. The battlefield was strewn with corpses of man and beast alike. Twisted metal, where cannon had been blown apart, lay here and there. A tattered flag fluttered limply in the breeze; the pole it hung from, splintered, swayed precariously, having been jarred from its position in the soil by a fallen cavalryman, his mount on him, pinning him to the ground, both skewered by razor-sharp pikes.

 Iago turned his nose up at the stench of death around him. Never had he imagined battle to be so vile. His eyes burned from the sulphur fumes which hung heavily in the air like a yellow mist. His whole body ached from having fought feverishly for several hours to ensure his life was spared. More than once he had come close to death by the quickness of his enemies’ rapiers, only surpassed by his own skill in swordsmanship.

He sat in the mud, resting against a large oak tree, its gnarled branches, void of life, stretched out as though reaching for the heavens. Iago watched other survivors rummaging among the bodies, looking for what booty they could steal from the dead. It sickened him to see how callously his fellow soldiers could stoop to satisfy their own greed. He had barely leant back against the damp trunk, his eyes closed, when he felt a tug at his coat. Quickly he opened his eyes in time to see one of the scavengers falling backwards, startled. Iago jumped to his feet, sword in hand, its deadly point of superior Toledo steel, was in an instant beneath the man’s chin, and already drawing blood.

I still have a number of edits to do on it as soon as I complete all the typing up. So as you can imagine there’s a lot of work to do. So far the book stands at just over 95,000 words. I expect it to finish at around 100,000 – 120,000. Oh well… must get on or I’ll never finish it in time for publishing in June.

RLB – Tomewriter

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