Welcome to Weekend Writing Warriors!
Click on the image below to check out all the authors participating this week!
We’ll return to Red Tide at Morning some time in the next couple of weeks, as I’m taking a minor editing break. To fill my time, I started writing…this. I think Black Dogs will end up being a short story/novella, a horror tale in a high fantasy setting…but who knows. Regardless, enjoy!
Tears in rain, lost in the drains which ran down both sides of the ruined street. Dark stone buildings like monuments made of shadow stood to both sides of the narrow lane, their old walls chewed and pitted and filled with grooves. Dark clouds carrying the stench of iron oozed across the sky like warm clay. Pale rips in the dark atmopshere allowed slivers of wayward sunlight to glance through, but it hardly did any good against the smoke that filled lower Pitchtown.
Sarresh kept his blade close as he watched the stock of slaves being marched up the ramp to his ship. The war with Desh had taken longer than the Duke had initially promised, but while that meant a lot of death and more than a few malcontents it also meant more money would wind up in the pockets of men like himself, men who profited off the tendencies of The Thirteen to wage war with one another over everything from credit notes to the Grand Whorehouse in Beldeen to the mining rights in the Twisted Narrows. Those were hard times, ruled by men with hearts of iron and souls dripping with cash, and Sarresh knew if he was lucky he’d one day buy himself info the favor of one of the houses, but only if he helped them do what they loved best, and that was fight among themselves.
His men hadn’t left much of Pitchtown standing, but that was the way of things when you were recruiting new stock.
Check out my Behind the Scenes post for more on Red Tide At Morning.
Thanks for stopping by, and have a great weekend!