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Panic, Plans, and Parrying (Verbal Style)

A few updates for you lot:

1. I apologize for the mopey post Monday, but I felt like I wasn’t the only one suffering from those kind of doubts. The internet is really all about community, eh?

2. I found out yesterday that my portfolio for graduation is due next week. AHHHHHH!!!! I see a weekend of major revisions and research in my near future (this weekend). But it WILL get done, because I WILL graduate in April.

3. I’ve branched out in what I’m looking for job-wise, so hopefully I’ll find someone willing to take this poor little soul. I’m applying for jobs in technical writing and editing, social media coordinating, and other various jobs people could need a technical writer of my skill level for.

4. I got two different sets of feedback from critique partners on Stealing the Crown. Other than a few issues, the first five chapters are strong. A reason to celebrate!

I keep hinting that the character has a really strong voice, but I don’t think I’ve taken the opportunity to show you. So below is a special treat for my new loyal readers. This is actually where the story starts. I truly hope you enjoy.


“You just had to get cocky, didn’t you, kid?”

“Only four cylinders on the lock? Bo, they were asking me to take it.” My shoulders were starting to hurt, digging into the stone wall behind me. Better than the spears pointed at my neck, but I still didn’t like this situation. There were only four guards on duty every time we had checked the manor. So where had this mini squadron come from?

The captain jabbed his spear forward. A white line of fire crossed my neck. “Silence. I won’t have you two conspiring in front of me.”

“Whoa there, Bizzie.” I knocked the spear away from my throat as casually as I could, holding my hand up in mock surrender. “We would never conspire against you. Bo, would we ever conspire against these nice gentlemen here?”

“Enough.” The guard to my right jabbed me in the ribs with his spear. Well, at least he earned a nice hiss from me for his troubles. “Give me the bag. Keep your hands where we can see them.”

I flipped the rough edges of the sack between my fingers. I knew the drill from here. If I handed over the bag, I’d be tied up, thrown in some dark and filthy dungeon, escape, then move on to the next job. There was no way the loot was worth that much effort. I looked sideways at Bo. He was Not Amused.

I jerked my hand up. A sickening thud echoed through the hall as the bag connected with the guard’s temple. He dropped to the ground before anyone moved. The guards looked from me to the still form of their partner in shock.


I ducked. Just at the right time as the spears clanged against the wall where my chest had been. I shoved off the back wall, rolling out between their feet. As soon as I got in the clear, a heavy hand clawed the back of my neck and hauled me to my feet. Shit shit shit. I twisted to escape until Bo’s other hand clapped me on the back of the head. “Move it, kid.”

I jumped over the guards Bo’d left on the ground. The bag slowed me down, but my long legs carried me farther ahead than Bo. I heard him grunt and I spun around, my hand at my hip.

The guards had recovered quickly. Captain Bizzie and his first lieutenant grabbed Bo by the shoulders, trying to wrestle him to the ground. My dagger caught the Captain in the thigh, dropping him to the ground. The sack clanked from my hand as I pulled a dagger from my left hip. Bo had the other guy on the ground, unconscious by the way he fell. Bo didn’t even stop to thank me as he barreled past. I tossed the blade to my right hand, snatched the bag up again, and took off after him.

The hall filled with shouts and pounding of feet as the squadron charged after us. Only options were down the stairs or through the stained glass window in front of us. A quick glance down the steps showcased the two guards we had slipped past earlier. I never liked pretty windows anyways. It’s like they were asking, in all their multi-colored glory, to be smashed.

The window didn’t make that little tinkling I always thought it would. It was more of a crack. The splintering glass cut my face and hands even more than the spears had. My heart tried to escape through my throat as we fell through the air, but the shouts of the guards as they stopped at the window forced it back. We hit the lawn below the window with a heavy thud and crackling glass, tumbling a few steps before getting back to our feet and running out away from the shouts of the guards. I couldn’t help the triumphant laugh that escaped as arrows whistled over our heads.


For future reference and my own pride, I sincerely need to know: Would you guys like to see more of this in the future, or only have me include snippets when it is pertinent to the post? Would you like to hear more of these tales of epic college struggle, or would you like me to stick to the writing advice?

Today’s post is dedicated to the readers who are sticking with me and slowly finding me along the way. Your encouragement is much appreciated, and it warms my heart to see each and every view, comment, and like that I receive. You are awesome. Grab yourself your favorite sugary treat and bask in your awesomeness.


About sugarfrenzied

Medieval fantasy writer, anime-enthusiast, starving college student (who is actually decently fed), too-busy-for-a-boy working girl

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