Oh me? I'm just an elementary school teacher who's crazy into books and likes writing for fun :)
Bard: Chapter 4
They put a decent distance between them and Vultan’s warehouse before Laura rounded on Trista. “What the hell were you doing there?” she demanded, and Trista all but cowered. She reached inside of her cloak and pulled out a small pouch that clinked with the sound of coins.
The World is a House
“How would you like to come away with me and ride upon the Leopard of Little Breezes and be delivered to the great sea, which borders Fairyland?” -The Girl Who Circumnavigated Fairyland in a Ship of Her Own Making
Bard: Chapter 3
“Welcome to Ford,” Laura said dryly, spreading her arms wide over the muddy streets and weather-beaten buildings of the river town. It was a big place, but not well kept. There were cleaner areas to the north where wealthy merchants and travelers booked passage on ferries, but more often a person found space on a barge near the warehouse district, which is where they had led Trista. “Best of luck to you. Goodbye.”
Bard: Chapter 2
Liam trudged along a few paces behind Trista with Laura leading the way. Yawning, he rubbed the back of his hand over his eyes and tried to stretch the tension out of his shoulders. Neither he nor his sister had slept much the night before. Laura had insisted at least one of them keep watch in case Trista tried to do something nefarious. Liam was fairly certain Trista would do nothing of the sort, but Laura was adamant.
I was just finishing up the ledgers for the week, and feeling quite pleased with goings on. The fire crackled merrily in the hearth, casting warm, golden light over the ribbons and cedar boughs that adorned my drawing room. Outside, snow fell gently over the garden, blanketing my sleeping hydrangeas with a sparkling mantle of white. All was calm. All was well.
Bard, Chapter 1
“There’s bandits in the woods,” the barkeep said blithely as he wiped down the counter. “Roaming bands that fall on travelers, strip ‘em of everythin’ they’ve got, and leave ‘em for dead.”
No One Falls Through the Ice
“Come on, Agnes!” Gilbert called, already making smooth loops around the frozen pond. “We’ve been waiting all year!” Agnes finished buckling on her skates and stood, shaking out her woolen skirts even though no snow had stuck to her. Tentatively, she stepped onto the thick ice that lined the shore. It was safe along the edges, but she knew the ice near the center would be thin and weak, as it always was after the first hard freeze of the winter.