The clouds in the summer sky burned in the red-orange rage of a dispossessed sun crashing below the horizon. The dark hills--recumbent silhouette--shielded the landscape from the final fury of the sinking disk. Seven riders passed along a narrow trail away from the shadow and into the flat expanse separating them from the village. Sharp noses and the harsh lines of many campaigns marked their faces. Neither kindness, mercy, nor remorse found place in the experience etched in their features.
(The Riders - To be continued)
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I wrote a short story this week and therefore didn't get any writing done on Book 6.
I'm still getting kind words on the talk I gave last week. Comments included: "It was amazing" and "It made me cry." -- I'm hoping that last one was meant in a good way. I've learned it was referred to on the youth activity, but I don't know whether the context was "don't do that" or "see, anyone can give a meaningful talk with a little effort." All that means that whenever I give another talk, there's little chance that it will measure up to that one. I have nowhere to go but down.
In other news, I have confirmed that WD-40 does have cleansing properties in addition to its lubrication and penetration abilities. I used some on the sides of the motorbike where the black panels had become dulled with I-don't-know-what. They look much better.
The first two books in the Tomahawks and Dragon Fire Series remain at 99 cents a piece for the time being.
