Tuesday, 25 September 2012

TUESDAY TEASER - RIBBLESTROP FOR EVER AND HARPER VOYAGER OPEN TO SLUSH


Teaser Tuesdays is a weekly bookish meme, hosted by MizB of ShouldBe Reading. Anyone can play along! Just do the following:

• Grab your current read
• Open to a random page
• Share two (2) “teaser” sentences from somewhere on that page
• BE CAREFUL NOT TO INCLUDE SPOILERS! (make sure that what you share doesn’t give too much away! You don’t want to ruin the book for others!)
• Share the title and the author, too, so that other TT participants can add the book to their TBR Lists if they like your teasers!

I am reading MG:  Ribblestrop Forever by Andy Mulligan 

This is the second Ribblestrop adventure. In this book, Inspector Cuthbertson is only a step behind the children-determined to destroy the school forever...again-and there's only a mad librarian around to help. The orphans are in for a worryingly-adventurous kind of adventure.

This excerpt is a timely reminder of the potential hazards inherent in eating boiled sweets while piloting aeroplanes ;)

You get four sentences for the price of two today:

The gobstopper spun against his uvula, where the digastric
muscle strained at once to eject it. The plane bobbed yet
again and the pilot panicked. He tried to swallow and disaster struck. The gobstopper was sucked straight into his
windpipe where it lodged like a cork in a bottle.

I THINK IT'S GOING TO SNOW

Get your boots out, Harper Voyager is opening up to slush ;)

If you are writing any kind of speculative fiction - science-fiction to fantasy - you need to know about Harper Voyager's decision to open themselves to unsolicited submissions. The window is between 1st to 14th October. Check this link. If your novel is polished, rather than published, this is a great opportunity to get your work noticed.

IS YOUR CURRENT NOVEL READY TO SUBMIT? WILL YOU BE TEMPTED TO THROW YOURS AT THE HARPER VOYAGER'S WALL?

Mine is about 50% short of the target. I can get a lot done in 19 days but I don't think complete and edited is anywhere near achievable.

OK. What do you think? This is my only stab at a YA fantasy. There's miles to go before Gaell can call herself anything like at home. Is it worth me doing little but work and write? I have ironing to fit in somewhere. And shopping. And football ;)


As they always did in the days between harvest and fall, high winds blew across the valley.
Gaell crawled further out along a thick branch that held aloft a section of the great oak’s canopy. She licked at her lower lip as she wriggled forward. Her arms couldn’t completely encircle the wooden limb, but she inched along. Thinking about it, there was a caterpillar-like quality to her movements. Gaell grinned and nodded her thanks. Then she spread her knees to secure her grip and let the rough bark rub the surface of her toes as she wriggled with efficiently away from the trunk.
Dawn glowed a warm orange that lightened the dark sky but not enough light to disturb her view. For once, she was glad her hair was uniformly long and plaited in two tidy brown ropes that dangled down over her ears. The fabric of her old, grey mourning dress was smooth enough to slip over the rough bark but it was unfortunately still pale enough to show the stains. She would have to find something more suitable to wear next time she slipped out to find adventure.
First she had to make sure she didn’t fall, of course.
The wind blew her cowl until it snapped and flapped at her neck as if she were being attacked by a silken bird. Shaking her head, excitement uncurled inside and she breathed out slow and long. She felt as if she had been holding her breath for a very long time. While she waited for the wind to settle, she stared at the grain in the bark and pictured again the fleeting thought, the image, that had pulled her from her bed so early.
“Can we go yet?” asked the boy who clung to the rope they had lashed around the trunk of the tree. He gripped the knot, wrapped around his stomach, in one hand and pressed his back against the thick body of the oak. He clung to the rope with white knuckled fingers and, although his arms would make only useful twigs Rylos to took his role very seriously. He was dressed in his scholarly best: the silver tunic, black silk stockings and laced boots. His cowl was pulled up to cover his head and ears to keep the wind from nipping at his delicate Vagan skin.
“No,” said Gaell, more forcibly that was needed. She turned back to her task and shuffled forward again.
Rylos sniffed. “I agreed to one hour. It was a bargain. I’m sure it’s nearly been an hour.”
Gaell shrugged her shoulders. It was as non-commerce a gesture as a person could make. In truth, including the time it took her to get him out of his solsaal, her hour was almost up. She refused to look at hm. She was doing him a favour, Rylos would learn the essence of trade was in the details.  “We haven’t been here for an hour.”
“I don’t know why you wanted to make this deal,” Rylos called at her back. “I still don’t see what kind of trade could benefit from climbing the tree anyway.” He grumbled away to himself and tugged and tested the line. “Nothing of any value grows here.”
There was so much tugging, Gaell had to grip to keep her balance. Poor Rylos. He was the reason Gaell was able to come to the tree anyway. Who else would accept her trade? He was also the reason why she did not plan to fall. No doubt, Rylos would try his best to hold the rope if she slipped. Fell. It was all she hoped for. She would make every effort to find whatever it was that drew her to the tree and she wouldn’t break her neck in the process. As well as having no desire to experience that level of pain, Gaell couldn’t bear to think of Rylos’ face if he failed to keep his side of the bargain. Generations of reliability snuffed out by a fall that had nothing to do with profit. It was too terrible to consider, she thought with a grin.
“Gaell?” called Rylos. “Why are we here?”
Gaell sighed, “Does it matter?”

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