Continuing on the editing theme, I’ve decided to post a bit here that will never make it in the first book as I’ve changed the structure somewhat. Initially the book was going to start with a modern setting and dive into the past and back again, but I decided against that approach, for reasons that shall remain a secret for the moment, (I can’t exactly divulge everything now can I?) as well as a sacrifice to the editing process.
So, besides the teazers that I post from time to time, this is an actual part of the story so feel free to consider it the excerpt that will never be:
She stood there in her rubber tipped converse, skinny jeans and hands in the pockets of her well-worn vintage leather jacket; her auburn hair was pulled back in a high, tight ponytail which shone under the fading light of the October sun. She wore an enormous pair of vintage Channel sunglasses which left very little skin exposed above her cheeks and underneath them. Her pupils had narrowed to the smallest, almost imperceptible pin. Her lips were small but perfectly formed and pale. She had freckles on her cheeks and also on her neck which disappeared into the back of her jacket and one could imagine she had them all over her body too. She was slim and of small build, almost fragile looking but with an air of sovereignty unmatched to her sense of style. Even with the massive sunglasses she was squinting in the sun and seemed relieved if a cloud lingered over it from time to time.
It was bitterly cold but you wouldn’t be able to tell just by looking at her. She appeared indifferent to it but well aware of her surroundings, which seemed to make her feel uncomfortable. She looked up to the sky and inhaled with her eyes closed trying to take in all the fine details of the place, a bit like a cat will sniff the air in order to identify something delicious or new. She walked about aimlessly pretending to look around, take the place in. The sound of the undergrowth and the crisp brittle leaves underfoot awfully audible to her ears. When she stepped on to the path, the harsh gravel dug into her soles and felt painful, though not as much as the last time she had been here. You would’ve thought she’d know what to wear after all these years.
The ground seemed to tell no tales, regardless of the countless bodies that no doubt still lay there undiscovered. She had read that there was research and experiments being done on the grounds by some amateur geophicists but nothing conclusive had turned up yet. She wondered if they had looked in the abandoned well that had been filled in after the supposed discovery of “black” water. She remembered starting the rumor about the black water and the dog that died on the spot the minute he drank it. The truth was that the well served as an excellent dumping site for her and Jo as it was really deep and disposal was generally becoming more and more difficult to pull off as the years wore on and the priests caught wind of the murders and were threatening to alert the Emperor.
She decided to make the fifteen minute journey down the hill to the well. The stone path led all the way to it, and she was surprised to see how quickly it all came back to her. The place had changed significantly of course, the forest had seemed to shrink and she could occasionally hear the faint sound of cars which was an odd new addition to the landscape. The smell was different too, not so woody and a lot less foul, from the reduction in livestock no doubt. It was all much more artificial, if one could say that about a forest. When she finally got to the well, she once again cursed the fact that she hadn’t thought to wear hiking boots, and soon realized that her years in the city had made her lose her connection to the outdoors. Looking around, she found that the well was gone, replaced by more gravel and the odd log, and again there was nothing there to bear witness to the goings on of the distant past. It all felt very normal indeed. Time does heal all wounds I guess, she thought to herself.