This is a story I am currently working on. For now...here is a preview piece (that is also the beginning). Enjoy!
The night was quite chilly. Tabitha did not notice, even though she was in beggar's rags. She was too frightened to take notice of the cold. She glanced behind her in fear. The stories she heard were true.
Suddenly, Tabitha bumped into a man in a black overcoat with a black top hat and wearing dark grey trousers.
She did not observe his clothing at the time, as she backed away, or tried to. The man had a hold of her shoulders.
"I say, steady on there, Miss!" stated the gentleman, but Tabitha hardly heard him.
She kicked the man in the shins, making him let go of her. Tabitha heard shouting behind her but she kept running. Ducking into a side-alley, Tabitha stopped as she reached a dead end. A shadow loomed over the nine-year-old girl. Turning around, gasping in short but heavy breaths, Tabitha fainted from fright, believing her persuer had caught up with her at last.
(if people like this and want more, please tell me here.)
No worries Brook, take your time.
lol elchew...yes, this is Dartho. What other thing would it be?
They stole the name of my story!!!
Anyway, I promise the next book/part will be up soon enough. Need to type it first though.
Lol...no problems Brook.
As long as you live up to your promise to give your review of it on here when you are done.
Lol...this is a book slowpoke.
I have written this before arriving at UR....have just added more parts.
It is a book I am working on in Microsoft Word. Have just copy and pasted it in parts onto here for your pleasure to read.
Nah...want to finish it all first.
And then of course tidy it up and then find a publisher.
Book Two: Lighnia
Chapter 10: Within The Walls…
The sound of the whip as it lashed out had made Ben cringe with pain. Tied up within the newly painted Storeroom of The Warehouse and having nowhere to run made the stinging coarse leather of the whip against Ben’s forearm all the more terrible. The Beagle had apparently wanted Ben to suffer. The first few hours had made Ben think that The Beagle had forgotten all about him, but no, The Beagle as Ben soon found out was not a man who forgets things.
The whipping boy was a good few years older then Ben, in his late teens decked out in common gray garb but with a whip in his hand which he had attacked Ben with a short moment ago. With a sneer, the whipping boy kicked at Ben with his black boots after Ben had raised his forearm as best he could to block the whip attack.
“Vile scum!” uttered the older boy and spat at Ben, the saliva hitting Ben on his stinging forearm that made Ben wince again in agony.
With a look of detestation at Ben, the whipping boy turned and left via the door into the Storeroom, slamming it behind him after strapping his whip into its holster on his belt.
Ben did not move for several minutes, his arm felt numb with pain.
(to be continued...)