Snazzy Snippets: Valentine Edition

In case you haven’t had your fill of romance yet, today I’m participating in Snazzy Snippets, a (normally) bi-monthly link-up hosted by Alyssa @ The Devil Orders Takeout and Emily @ Loony Literate. (If you are unfamiliar with Snazzy Snippets, here is a link to the explanation.) The prompts for today are:

A heartwarming snippet that makes readers go “aww!”

or

A kissing snippet

or

A snippet where love interests first appear together

(Applicable for both future or established relationships)

Since, as we covered on Wednesday, I am not a hugely romantic person, I don’t spend a lot of time attempting to write romance. This means whatever happens happens, and I just try to roll with it. However, I do have two characters, Jude and N, who will eventually be a couple. So once more, I shall be shoving them in your faces. (In case you’re new, welcome! These characters are from my Fantasy novel, DRACONIAN, also known as DSS. It features dragons, murder, revenge, and more. And if you’re wondering why I only include the initials for most of the names, it’s because I don’t like sharing my made-up names online.) 

I won’t be doing all three prompts this time, and I’ll be cheating a little on the two I do tackle. But you know what? It’s been a while since I’ve bent/broken the rules on my blog, and I’m feeling rebellious. 

This first snippet could (maybe?) fall under the “heartwarming” category. But it’s more a portrait of Jude and N’s relationship (in case I didn’t give you a good enough one in my Beautiful People post).

A smiles. “It’s a beautiful morning, is it not? Just listen to the birds sing—they know this day is wonderful.”

“All days are wonderful to you,” Jude observes, approaching from a half-hidden path. Just for a moment, I think I catch the faintest hint of sadness in his voice, yet I am unsure. 

Laughing under her breath, A leans over and grabs a silver decanter and a stack of wooden cups. An odd combination. With deft hands, she dispenses tea, straining the leaves out as she pours. “Help yourself.” She indicates the array of dishes on the table—boiled goose eggs, dark-brown bread stuck with seeds, piles of fresh greens—and my stomach rumbles. 

“Where is everyone?” I ask after the silence has held sway too long. 

A frowns. “Most are resting, I’m sure. After dancing till sunrise, they’re always tired. Others—” she coughs uncomfortably, “are biding their time. It may take a while for them to warm up to you. I’m sorry.” Her hands falter, and a teardrop of tea runs down the smooth side of a cup. 

“It’s okay,” I say, finding it difficult to make eye contact. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t intend to stay much longer. I only came because…” I’m not sure how to end that sentence. I’m not sure I want to. 

A clears her throat a couple times, seeming to struggle with her voice. “You don’t…have to leave just yet. You could wait a while.” 

“I’ll consider it,” I assent, only half-heartedly, wishing the wounded look on her face would go away. Clearly I do not belong here.

“Where do you plan to go?” Jude asks, seating himself beside me. I hadn’t noticed he was still standing, watching us and thinking indiscernible thoughts. I see them arranged beneath his bold brows, but I do not know what they mean. 

“I’m not sure,” I admit. “Just…far—far from here.” 

“Are you running away?” he asks yesterday’s question again, a little too innocently, like a dove with a snake in its eyes. 

“No,” I lie as I push away from the table. The ground is spinning, and my head is numb; I need to be alone.

“N,” he calls after me, but I ignore him as I press forward with the world all blurry around me and the air heavy on my shoulders like a mantle of lead. Despite the pain in my body that reminds me I am not well, I run for ages. Finally, though, I stop and fall to my knees on the verge of a dried-up stream lined with half-hearted blossoms. When I glance up, I see him—Jude. He must have followed me. 

Sighing, I pull my knees to my chest and hug my legs, shivering. If only I could tell him—if only I could tell someone—of the blood on my hands. Perhaps then it would ease the burden on my soul. But I can’t. 

Dried clay crumbles to dust beneath his boots as he joins me, lowering himself to the ground by my side. For a long while he just sits there, staring at the woods and the creek-bed and the marbled sky. Finally he turns to me. “You’re safe here, N,” he murmurs. “You know that, right?”

I pick a wilting flower and rub the limp petals between my fingers. “I’m not sure I’ll ever be safe,” I say. At least, not from myself.

This last snippet could fall under the “kissing” category, but, as you’ll see, it’s not actually a kissing scene. It’s the closest I have though, so we’re just going to go with it. (And in case my beta readers are confused, I’ve abbreviated it to remove spoilers.)

When I wake, it’s still too bright out for us to travel. Under the fading sun, I sit and study the others—the way Jude sleeps with his hands clenched into fists and the way K manages to curl herself into a tight ball, the way they breathe in and out in unison as though they are one entity. Maybe it’s my muddled, sickened mind getting in the way, but I feel a strange pang at this, when I see how peaceful Jude looks next to K. Lines of fatigue mark my face, and my boyish hair conforms to the will of the wind—I could never hope to be as beautiful as her. K may not be overly kind, but at least she is not a murderer like me—at least she is acting for the good of her people instead of for her own personal gain. In comparison with her, I struggle to believe anyone will miss me when I’m gone. 

Carefully, I fasten my cloak around my shoulders and stand, pausing a moment to get my bearings, to let the dizziness ebb. Then I lean forward and kiss Jude on the forehead, quickly, before I lose my courage. I don’t think I’ve ever told him how much I value his help, how much I truly have needed him all this time, how he’s always been there for me even when he has had no reason to be. How his loyalty and kindness baffle me. I’m not sure if this is true friendship or not, but I know I don’t deserve it. And I hope he will be able to understand why I have to leave without him. 

Allowing myself to stare at the two of them one last time is a mistake, I know, but still—I cannot deny myself this final glance. I want to imprint their faces in my mind—I want to memorize Jude’s black hair, his sharp jaw, the bronze gleam to his skin. I want to keep K’s unruly curls tangled around my thoughts. As I go to meet my death, I want my friends to come with me, but only in my heart. 

There you have it, my little coffee beans. Have you participated in this link-up/are you planning to? What are some of your favorite romances of all time? Are you doing anything exciting for Valentine's Day? 

Snazzy Snippets

Source

At long last, I have decided to participate in Snazzy Snippets. In case you’re unfamiliar with Snazzy Snippets, it’s a bi-monthly link-up hosted by Alyssa @ The Devil Orders Takeout and Emily @ Loony Literate. Every two months, they post a set of writing prompts and then leave us to go hog wild. Or something like that. 

The guidelines for this edition are: 

A snippet from page 16

or

A snippet of 16 words or fewer

or

A snippet about something NEW

(Eg. A new year, a new school, introducing a new person/character/setting, a new revelation.) 

I’ve decided to do all three categories. (Also, you might be wondering why I often use initials in my snippets instead of full names. I apologize for any confusion, but I don’t like to share my made-up names online. Call it fear that people will think they’re stupid and laugh at me or fear that people will think they’re cool and steal them. Either way, my lips are sealed.) Also, in case you were wondering, all of these snippets come from my current work in progress, a YA fantasy. 

This first snippet could fit under the third category (since, for one character, it involves a revelation of new information), but since it’s from roughly page sixteen, I’m going to use it for the first category instead. So there: 

Ages pass before A reenters with a bowl of steaming water pressed tremblingly between her hands. Sitting, she crumbles the herbs and lets them slip through her long fingers into the basin. “You asked if you father is here now,” she says. “Come child, what is the meaning of this?” 

“He’s missing,” I answer flatly, afraid to explain further, afraid to mourn, afraid to break the wall inside me that has held back the tears until now. “Presumed dead.” My stomach sours, and I curse myself for my stupid hope. Of course he isn’t here. Of course. 

He’s nowhere. 

“Dead?” Her hands tip the bowl abruptly, and the water sloshes her dress, yet she doesn’t seem to notice. “How can this be?” Disbelief crowds its way into her voice. 

“They say he was murdered.” 

*gasp* 

Here we are for category two, with a snippet of sixteen words: 

“You’re safe here,” he murmurs, “you know that right?” 

“I’m not sure I’ll ever be safe.” 

(I don’t know how much impact that has or how much sense it makes taken out of context, but whatever. We’re just going to go with it.) 

And finally we come to the third category. In this longish snippet, my main character is dealing with a lot of new stuff. She’s made a (tentative) new friend and a new enemy, entered a new living situation, and encountered a whole new set of problems. So I think I’ve covered my bases with this snippet: 

High noon sneaks up on us as we sit beside the dead stream, lulled by the rustling of the leaves and the chattering of squirrels. When a butterfly flutters past, I listen to the beating of its beautiful dragon wings, wondering if it understands how fragile it is. 

Finally Jude stands and offers me a hand. “We should go back. I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry.” Despite his inviting smile, I am tempted to pull away, to flee—to run and run until I have left all this behind. Instead I let him help me to my feet. 

Trouble is waiting for us in the clearing when we slip from the woods like thieves in the night. S. As she approaches, her eyes flash sparks at odds with the painted smile on her lips. Jude stiffens. 

“Where have you two been all morning?” she asks, her tone light and innocent, her fingers clenched into white-knuckled fists at her sides. 

“The forest,” Jude answers, squaring his shoulders. 

“I saw what happened earlier, N,” S turns to me. “I saw how you treated A, the way you ran off like a spoiled brat to throw your little tantrum. It was very childish of you. And they may not know what you’re doing, coming here and demanding everyone’s attention, but don’t think you have me fooled. I know who you are. And I know what you’ve done.” She smirks. 

“I have no clue what you’re talking about, but—” Jude begins. 

“Oh, don’t worry—she understands,” S cuts him off, unfazed by his anger. “Just be careful, N. Don’t hurt my friends like you hurt him.” Still smirking, she flounces off, her head held high, her posture oozing confidence. 

Why aren’t my lungs working?

“Well…I’m not sure what that was about,” Jude frowns, “but I apologize. I’ll speak with Mother; she’ll straighten this out.” 

“Oh no,” I blurt, forcing myself to make eye contact. “Please don’t.” If they speak with her—if she tells them…

“N,” he shakes his head, “S shouldn’t have treated you like that.”

“I’m not staying anyway,” I protest, “and I don’t want to cause more trouble than I already have.” I need to get out.

“You won’t be the one causing trouble,” he assures me, scanning the clearing. 

“No,” I insist, more sharply this time because I see A now, gathering wild greens at the far edge of the forest. “I’d really rather you didn’t.” 

He purses his lips. “Are you sure?” 

“Yeah,” I say. “Just let it be.” Does she know? Does she really know about Titus? “I should leave.” 

“You keep saying that.” He plucks a twig from a nearby tree and studies it a moment before casting it aside. “But I don’t think you mean it.” 

“Oh?” I try for a neutral expression. 

“Let’s get something to eat.” He takes my elbow, and I can’t help but wonder why he’s avoiding the question. “I can show you around later. At least give this place a chance.” 

Afraid to do anything that might draw attention to myself, I relent and follow him to a well-stocked table. Baskets of bread and jars of cordial line the surface like ramparts, and I wonder how these people can afford to be this liberal. In my village we drag our wheat from the ground and beat our milk from the cows and protect our spoils from the rabble under lock and key. Every day is a hard-won victory over the earth. And every day is another opportunity to die. 

As we seat ourselves on the rickety, weather-beaten chairs, I scan the clearing for any sign of S, but she must have left already. And good riddance. When Jude offers me a cup of tea and a plate of rolls to share between us, I fake a smile and force myself to eat, even though my stomach turns at the very thought of food. 

No matter what, I can’t let him see—I can’t let him notice how shaken I am. S doesn’t know what I’ve done—how could she? Still, if there’s even the slightest chance… If they find out, I doubt they’d let me stay. I doubt they’d deal kindly with me. After all, I know what my villagers do to those who murder their own. It can’t be that different here. 

And, there you have it, my little coffee beans. I’m still in the middle of (hopefully) my last intense round of edits on this project, so I apologize for any rough patches in the snippets. (I’m afraid S might still have a slight case of Cackling Disney Villain Syndrome.) What about you? Have you participated in Snazzy Snippets before? If so, feel free to drop a link in the comments below so I can check out your post.