Six Sentence Sunday

[elingregory]

Aaaaaand it's time for Six Sunday!!

Six Sentence Sunday where by going to this Linky link, a whole passel of different world opens u to the eager reader. Whether your thing is steampunk, sci fi, vampire, shifter, inspirational, YA or any combination of the above you'll be able to find something to suit your taste.

I have been particularly enjoying work by Goran Zidar, Steven Montano, Sarah Ballance, CC Williams, Jess Schira and Ruth Griffin but that's by no means the full list [so please don't be offended if you aren't on it.]

Hmm - this week - I dunno. My plans for writing more of A Fierce Reaping for Nanowrimo have gone, as we say locally, tits up, but I'm really missing Cynfal and the lads. Here's another bit, taken from after the last bit, where Cynfal suggested that Gwion join them on a trip to fetch firewood:

Gwion managed his accidental meeting with Cynon’s troop with a casual air that Cynfal admired.  He wasn’t sure if it fooled Cynon but the troop leader merely waved when the horseman appeared on the edge of the wood and cantered towards them.
Llif’s horse was a bright chestnut stallion with a rim of white about one fore hoof.  The beast was splashed with mud and had a little sweat whorling the thick hair on its breast but still had the energy to dance down the slope, squealing a greeting as it came. Gwion was sitting tight, forearms rigid as he held the big horse in, snowflakes dusting his hair and the shoulders of his cloak. Dressed for work, in well-worn and serviceable clothes, which were still better than many men’s best, he looked like what he was – a gently born yet sensible lad exercising his most prized possession and taking a chance encounter with pleasure.

More next week.