It’s the first day of Nanowrimo! I’m editing this year instead of writing something new, but I’m still excited. Here’s a short excerpt of what I’ll be working on:
Arvid Bunioncutterson wasn’t as surprised as a modest farm-boy should be when he woke in the middle of the night to raucous voices rustling with the late summer breeze through a gap in his linen curtains. He’d spent countless nights there at the top of the hoary farmhouse on the eastern edge of the Witch Knolls waiting to hear that very sound. It wasn’t because of a holiday that his neighbors were out so late and the shouts being carried into his bedroom couldn’t have been mistaken for the voices of merrymakers. Nor were they the voices of boisterous friends come to steal him away. Arvid had always been too much of a loner, preferring the company of his lumptoads and goats, to have made the type of friends who would fetch him out of bed for a night of reckless fun. And yet the angry voices – or rather, the men they belonged to – were coming for him. He’d known they would eventually. After all, a person couldn’t murder his neighbor’s chickens night after night and get away with it forever.
And so the gangling boy whose mind was already racing even if his legs were still tangled in the sheets of his narrow bed knew he shouldn’t panic . . .