Sneak Peek Sunday is a weekly blog hop in which writers are challenged to post six paragraphs, no more and no less, from a published work or work in progress and then invite other writers, readers and random bloggers to read, critique and comment. Visit their site by clicking on the button below for a list of other participating writers and share the love! Today’s Sneak Peek, like all my snippet-producing posts for the immediate future, is from The Last Hour of Gann, picking up where yesterday’s WeWriWa left off and continuing with Wednesday’s Hump Day Hook. So read, enjoy, and even though the Gann Giveaway is over, keep the love flowing!
So…as of midnight, Amazon Kindle is allowing people to look at The Last Hour of Gann, but not to buy it. Sorry about that. All my other books were up and running within hours of submission, so I stupidly assumed this one would be the same. I apologize to all my (hopefully) patient readers, especially my Gann Giveaway winners, who are still waiting on their winnings. I’m going to be on the road today, so I may not have a chance to check again until this evening, but I promise you, as soon as Amazon is selling the book and I am in a hotel with wifi, those free copies will be winging their way through cyberspace to your respective Kindles. Sheesh, nothing can ever go right the first time, can it? And don’t tell me it’s my own fault for leaving my edits to the last minute because I already know. Anyhoo, here is your sneak peek Sunday snippet, from the (sorta) newly available, The Last Hour of Gann.
It was nothing new for Meoraq, but he knew no better how to extract himself from it than he ever had. He finished securing his travel-pack and slung it onto his back, then turned to face her at last.
She bent her neck at once, hiding her eyes from him as a proper woman learns early to do, but her hands grasped anxiously at one another, never entirely still.
Meoraq started walking, but stopped at the door. He sighed, rubbed once at his brow-ridges, and came back to her. He stood awkwardly before her while she cowered, then reached out and brushed the back of his hand gently across her well-scarred shoulder. Her short spines only flattened further, uncomforted.
“I thought surely it would be you,” she whispered.
“Mine is the same clay as any other’s. Look to no living man for your restoration.”
“He has forsaken me.”