This weeks theme is a bit challenging because every author wants nothing more than to make a reader SEE what we’re trying say. Giving good descriptions without throwing up words on a reader can be tough. How do you show rather than tell? How do you get the point across by engaging the senses through words? Tall order. Enjoy this snippet from Silk Road, Seals of Destiny Book 1 where our Fallen angel runs into something worse than himself…Fallen demons.
“Are you here for me?” the daemon asked quietly. Fingers shook as he grasped the cleaning rag tightly, but he held Larien’s gaze in spite of his obvious fear.
“Not my job anymore, as I’m sure you can tell.” Cloaked or not, to other supernaturals, Larien’s aura gave him away just as theirs told him all he needed to know about who or what they were. Unlike demons, daemons weren’t bad guys. They were neutral and had every right to live on this plane without being harassed.
“Well, others have been tromping around down here, roughing up the locals. They’re after someone. Staying out of their way as best we can. Figured if they were here hunting illegally, you might be too.”
“Nope. I only want a number nine with extra hot sauce,” Larien said, careful to keep his expression calm. He had a good idea who was “tromping” around, but it wouldn’t do for this lesser to know that, even though he’d tucked an extra serving into Larien’s bag.
A nervous smile accompanied the little one’s relieved sigh as he rang up the meal and shooed Larien out the door with a friendly wave. It was closing time. No surprise, even if it was only late afternoon. Hell, it was a stretch for anyone to visit the Tenderloin in the daytime, let alone at night. And with winter closing in, it would be full dark soon.
Chasing the last of his crawfish beignet down with strong chicory coffee, Larien tossed his trash. Quickly, he turned into a dim alley off Eddy Street that let him out in the middle of a block crowded with cans to be picked up the next day.
And that’s when he felt it—an unmistakable wrongness, like a sour ripple in the air, in the very fabric of space-time itself. Not all supernatural creatures were on seek-and-destroy missions, but what he picked up now caused a twisted shrinking feeling in the pit of the stomach. Not a sense of dread but simply a discerning of an unnatural and definitely unwanted presence.
He tracked the aura to a church.
Larien snorted. Why did this encounter have to be near some church? It wasn’t the old moldy type typically seen in movies but that wasn’t the point. It was just so cliché. No building could sway the outcome of any situation. Rolling his eyes, Larien backed away from the church steps, discreetly backed into the doorway of a side entrance and watched the street.
Moments later a man with flame-red hair passed by. Though there was plenty of mid-day foot traffic, the man stood out. The man’s energy pulsed and crackled as he moved swiftly by, but everything else about him screamed “human”.
Larien stayed where he was and watched him duck into a typical dirt-and-cream colored apartment building across the street. Not far behind were two beings who definitely didn’t belong. It was obvious the male had seen them though Larien doubted he’d understood what he’d seen.
Their ridiculous height, the silvery-gray tint of their skin and razor-sharp, glossy-black talons on the tips of deep burgundy wings told a story that was fit for folk tales. Fallen demons.
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