I’ve been tagged by A. S. Fenichel, author of the amazing MAYAN DESTINY series among other works, to participate in the “Look Meme,” where you post three snippets from your current WIP that contain the word “look.” Which is of course one of the dreaded words I try to ferret out and replace with more exciting verbs when I reach the editing stage…but so here goes:
Both the heroine and the hero are prisoners of the enemy at this point in the adventure and don’t as yet know each other:
She bent to set the bowl in his outstretched palms, looking him straight in the eyes, her own intense. “Don’t eat it,” she said in a barely audible whisper, before walking away without a backward glance.
The guards were watching him so he made a show of fumbling with the bowl, as if trying to get a better grip. He allowed the bowl to slip from his fingers, struggling against the ropes in a convincing show of desperation, attempting to catch it as it rolled off his fingertips. The bowl shattered on a rock, splattering him with stew. The guards standing nearby howled at his predicament. Kamin glared at them before bringing his greasy fingers to his lips, as if to lick some nourishment at least. Tempting as the aroma was, he didn’t actually touch his tongue to the drippings.
I hope she knows what she’s doing or else I’ve paid a high price for trusting her.
And now they’ve escaped the enemy and are…somewhere (no spoilers LOL!):
A troubled frown on her face, eyes narrowed, Nima laid her hand on his arm, as if to hold him in place. “I don’t think we should try to harm or kill any living creature here. The mere idea repels me.”
“Not even a fish?” Raising his eyebrows, he looked at her in disbelief. “What do we eat then? Flowers? Fruit maybe? I tell you plainly, a soldier travels on his stomach and mine needs stronger nourishment than stale bread and fruit.” He patted his flat abdomen.
An attack on the enemy stronghold, toward the end of the novel, with Nima the Dancer trapped inside and Kamin the soldier as one of the leaders of the Egyptian army:
The battle flags, bearing cartouche of Horus, snapped and waved in the breeze. A falcon shrieked overhead but when Kamin tilted his head back to search for the bird, the sun was blinding.
“We’ll find her, sir, don’t worry,” said the grizzled sergeant standing next to the standard bearer. “Every man in the ranks knows we’re looking for an Egyptian woman, whose life must be preserved at all costs.”
So there you have it, my three excerpts with “look”…
DANCER OF THE NILE is still being worked on, so by the time I get the manuscript submitted, these paragraphs may be much changed – might even have a different title for the book, who knows?….thanks for stopping by!