Weekend Writing Warriors ~ My King

March 30, 2019 by Alexis Duran

Hello and welcome to Weekend Writing Warriors, the blog hop where writers from a wide range of genres share from their work in excerpts of ten sentences or less.

I’ve been sharing from my work-in-progress, a reimagined fairy tale inspired by Snow White. My Snow is a prince, and Snow is his nickname, one he’s trying hard to leave behind. But like his troubles with his older brother Tristan, some things just refuse to go away. In this scene, Gabriel and Tristan are reuniting after a years long separation. Much has changed, only not in the way Gabriel hoped they would. You can read last week’s snippet here.

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The normally robust Tristan appeared to be in poor health, but perhaps his pallor was due to the stress of their mother’s unexpected death and his hasty elevation to king.

Tristan had longed to be king ever since their father died, and had fought and argued for his right to the throne, but the queen hadn’t budged, and the nobles stood by her. Tristan was too young, too unseasoned, too wild, and the queen was hugely popular.

Now that he had obtained the lusted after crown, it did not appear to suit him.

All in time, Gabriel supposed, and remembered to drop to one knee.

“My King,” he said, bowing his head.

“Oh, don’t be foolish, Snow,” Tristan said as he strode up to him, grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him to his feet. “Save the rigmarole for the court.” He threw his arms around Gabriel and pounded him on the back. A sweet brine of brandy, damp leather and sweat enveloped Gabriel as his brother’s unsteady weight threatened to topple him over.

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Portrait of French King Dagobert by Emile Signol (1804-1892)

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Blurb-in-progress for Snow, a reimagined fairy tale:

Following the death of his mother the Queen, Prince Gabriel is called home by his brother, now King. Gabriel hopes for a reconciliation with his estranged brother, but all is not well at Castle Rosenthal. King Tristan has fallen under the sway of a scheming alchemist, the magical denizens of the bordering Black Forest are on the move, and Gabriel begins to fear for his life. Is the handsome huntsman in on a plot to assassinate him, or is there an even darker, more evil force afoot? A forced flight into the Black Forest may expose ancient powers at work, if Gabriel can survive long enough to uncover them.

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Weekend Writing Warriors is a blog hop where writers from a wide variety of genres share from their work in excerpts of ten sentences or less. Click the link to check out the other writers participating today. It’s a great way to discover your next favorite book

Weekend Writing Warriors ~ Under His Wing

March 23, 2019 by Alexis Duran

Welcome to Weekend Writing Warriors, the blog hop where writers from a wide variety of genres share excerpts from their work in ten sentences or less. It’s good to be back after missing last week. I’d like to say my absence was due to being on a fabulous vacation, but no, I had to work two 12 hour days last weekend at my day job. I don’t know about you, but I get very antsy when all of my writing time is consumed by the mundane requirements of reality.>>insert heavy sigh<<

I’ve been sharing from my work-in-progress, a reimagined fairy tale based on Snow White. We’re into the second chapter now, where Prince Gabriel is reunited with his brother for the first time in three years. Their relationship was never exactly loving, and Gabriel doesn’t know what to expect. You can read last week’s snippet here.

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The flap of the largest tent flew aside and a servant scurried out to tie back the heavy fabric.

Although seized by an irrational desire to turn Tempest around and flee, Gabriel slid from the back of his horse and tossed the reins to a nearby groom. He waded through tall, wet grass, his heart beating hard against his ribs.

Tristan emerged, a golden goblet in one hand, the other on his hip. His long, tousled red hair gleamed in the dim light and when he spotted Gabriel, a grin broke across his handsome face.

Fear and tiresome worries fled as Gabriel recalled his brother of old, the brother who kept Gabriel under his wing and led him on many jolly adventures in the rolling woods surrounding Rosenthal Castle. That was before their father died, and all the unhappiness that followed.

As he drew closer, Gabriel’s brief impression of a young, robust, and friendly brother faded. Yes, Tristan was still handsome, but his fair skin was sallow, yellowed beneath his spattering of freckles and trim red beard. His green eyes, once bright as emeralds, were bleary and narrowed as if against some light source Gabriel couldn’t see.

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Being king can take it out of a guy.

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Blurb-in-progress for Snow, a reimagined fairy tale:

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Weekend Writing Warriors ~ A Fairy Fall

March 9, 2019 by Alexis Duran

Welcome to Weekend Writing Warriors, the blog hop where writers from a wide variety of genres share from their work in excerpts of ten sentences or less. Just enough to tantalize your literary taste buds!

Last week I wrapped up the first chapter of my reimagined fairy tale, Snow, based on, you guessed it, Snow White. Only in my version Snow White is a prince. The prince in question, Gabriel, has just returned home after a long absence. He’s about to meet with his brother Tristan for the first time since the death of their mother and the elevation of Tristan to king. Their relationship is stormy, and Gabriel doesn’t know what to expect.

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The bright tents clustered in Greenswale meadow gave off a sullen air, their flaps closed tight against the very forest the occupants had come to plunder. Servants dashed about with large pitchers of wine and platters of meat and fruits, but scarcely a noble hunter was to be seen. They were all huddling inside the drooping, mist-drenched tents.

The fog had a way of worming its way through the thickest of wool, and Gabriel’s cloak and tunic were not thick. He’d come from Craigmoor to the north, which had been enjoying a temperate autumn, what the locals called a “Fairy Fall”. Fairies were known for casting about rays of sunshine to lure folks deeper and deeper into the Black Forest, where they would get lost in the shadows and freeze to death, if they weren’t eaten by goblins first, that is.

Gabriel’s winter cloak, along with his other clothing, were in one of the satchels tied to Webster’s horse, who was now being led away to the castle, his rider incapacitated by a bee sting. Gabriel spared a moment of worry for his servant; Webster had looked rather puffy and blotchy, before focusing on his upcoming encounter with his brother.

Tristan was a fickle creature, at one moment brimming over with the bonhomie of brotherly affection, the next, laid low by jealousy and spitefulness. And what did the older son—the king—have to be jealous of?

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Blurb-in-progress for Snow, a reimagined fairy tale:

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Weekend Writing Warriors ~ Band of Fellows

March 2, 2019 by Alexis Duran

Welcome to Weekend Writing Warriors, the blog hop where writers from a wide variety of genres share excerpts from their work in ten sentences or less.

First I have to say, I will no longer complain about not getting any snow here. We received over a foot this week and I had to stay home from work for two days and just write. Is there anything better than a snow day? (when you don’t have to go anywhere, that is)

Okay, on to the snippet. I have at last reached the end of Chapter One of my reimagined fairy tale, Snow. Yes, Snow. Seems to be a theme for me right now. Prince Gabriel has returned home after a long absence and encountered a hunting party led by his old nemesis, Gavin Falkner. You can read last week’s snippet here, if you are so inclined. Falkner’s last line was “Do you remember the way, or shall I lead?” .

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“I remember.” Gabriel flicked the reins and Tempest sprang into motion, much to the excitement of the dogs. Falkner’s horse, apparently unaware of the three-yard rule, attempted to keep up, but this neither Gabriel nor Tempest would allow.

What began as a simple ride quickly turned into a race, with Tempest easily gaining on the heavier black horse behind him. Gabriel leaned lower over the pommel and a familiar exhilaration overtook him.

Not all his boyhood memories were bad. He’d always been the best horseman at Rosenthal and no one could beat him if he had a worthy horse beneath him. Falkner in particular had tried, and failed.

Those races: Gabriel had almost felt like one of his brother’s band of fellows then, but it never lasted.

As he rode deeper into the bone chilling fog, the woods became little more than a tangle of shadows, and the sounds of dogs and horses faded to muffled yelps and cries in the distance.

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Blurb-in-progress for Snow, a reimagined fairy tale:

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Weekend Writing Warriors ~ On Edge

February 16, 2019 by Alexis Duran

Hello and Welcome to Weekend Writing Warriors, the blog hop where writers from a wide variety of genres share excerpts from their work in ten sentences or less (although how someone can ever come in at less is beyond me!)

I’m sharing from my work-in-progress, a reimagined fairy tale inspired by the tale of Snow White, titled Snow. Our hero, Prince Gabriel, is returning home after a long absence and discovers to his disappointment that some things have not changed. We’re in Gabriel’s POV and in last week’s snippet, he was thinking about his estrangement from his brother Tristan, now king.

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But was it irrevocable? Had Tristan sent for him to mend their relationship? Did he now find himself in need of a brother at his side to help solidify his rule and replace Douchay, their mother’s second husband and former regent, as his chief advisor?

“Take me to the king,” Gabriel said.

One of the other riders, a large man with a thick black beard, nudged his horse closer to Falkner’s and asked, “What about the stag? It’s the only one we’ve seen all day!”

Falkner waved a hand in dismissal. “We’ll never catch up to it now.”

The man gave Gabriel a swift but unmistakable look of hatred, then rode off to inform the others. All the men in the hunting party were strangers to Gabriel, but they still bore that familiar attitude of disrespect that set his teeth on edge.

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Blurb-in-progress for Snow, a reimagined fairy tale:

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Weekend Writing Warriors ~ Hunter’s Moon

February 9, 2019 by Alexis Duran

Welcome to Weekend Writing Warriors, the blog hop where writers from a wide variety of genres share excerpts from their work in snippets of ten sentences or less.

I’m so excited. We might actually get a bit of winter here in Oregon. While the rest of the US has been gripped in the icy talons of the polar vortex, we’ve been watching the crocuses and dandelions begin to bloom. But this week, there was a dusting of snow! I had to wear a coat! Thrilling times here, let me tell you.

As it is in the world of Snow, my current work-in-progress. Prince Gabriel has returned home on the eve of The Hunter’s Moon, a celebration that carries dark memories for him. Last week, Gabriel lied to Galvin Falkner, the king’s huntsman, telling him he didn’t remember him. Note: the king is Gabriel’s brother.

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“Well, there was a mob of us,” Falkner said, looking away as if he suddenly remembered what the mob had gotten up to.

“If this is the king’s hunt, where is the king?”

“Back at Greenswale meadow, where the tents are set up for the festival of the Hunter’s Moon.”

Ah, yes, how could Gabriel have forgotten? The most tiresome day of the year. At Castle Craigmoor, where he’d spent the last several years, much less fuss was made over the celebration. Yes, the villagers offered piles of slain rabbits and pheasants to Astrid, the goddess of the hunt, and everyone drank too much, but at Castle Rosenthal, the slaying of a stag on the day before the Hunter’s Moon was considered an essential rite of passage for the nobility, one that Gabriel had never passed.

His mother the Queen had never cared nor pressed him on the matter, but his brother took it as a personal affront, a rejection of all that was manly, noble and respectable. The more his brother taunted him, the more Gabriel dug in his heels and refused to go along on the hunts at all. The brothers—bonded by the early death of their father—grew quickly and irrevocably apart.

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