Genre: Other Genres
About darklerLocation: Portland Oregon, USA Home Region: Age:31 Website: www.google.com Favorite writers: Simon Brett, George Alexrod, Beverly Cleary Favorite music: Pete Yorn, Zero 7, Nickel Creek Non-noveling interests: Sunsets, long walks on the beach, being made to laugh |
Joined: Oktober 1, 2002 This Year: Official Participant NaNoWriMo History: NaNoWriMo posts: 0 NaNoWriMo buddies: 0
|
|
|
|
Synopsis: I Am an Unreliable Narrator
All I can tell you so far is that this is the great American literary-fission novel of the last half of the first decade of the 21st century. Or is it...
Excerpt: I Am an Unreliable Narrator
"Oh, bless my soul!" sighed Gladiola, positively draping herself across the fainting couch. Pierre's exclamations of love coming so soon following Radmila's had given her the vapors.
He rushed to her side but dared do no more than lightly hold her hand and whisper to her in French. But he let her hand fall when Radmila burst into the room.
"Pierre," she breathed, her voice a cold Croatian fire. "I should have figured it was you. The only thing that would cause you to abandon the Confederate Army would be her."
"And you," he spat at her, "are the worst publicist-cum-chocolatier I have ever met. Not only are your press releases dull and unfocused, but your milk chocolate is too waxy and your dark chocolate is too sweet."
At that, Radmila pulled out a pistol, and Pierre countered with his rapier.
"Please!" cried Gladiola. "Oh, Red Oak Manor has seen too much bloodshed in her lifetime. Let there be no more today! I admit, I may have led both of you on, but there is a war out there. How am I to know whether Pierre will survive his service, or Radmila will live through the hell of the Spanish Inquisition?"
"But Gladiola, I have left the convent for you," said Radmila.
"All the more reason," she said. "All the more reason for me to say that my true love is not here. He is from the stars."
The turn behind them as a tinkling of light rains down from the ceiling. There, where naught but the autumn light filtering through the Spanish moss hanging from the ancient oaks outside the fainting room window, stood a seven foot tall Klingon.
"This is him," said Gladiola teary-eyed. "My true love."
"You will come now," said the Klingon. "The Union forces are nearly here. They will surely pillage all the find at Red Oak Manor, even you."
"Oh, Worf," said Gladiola crossing over to him and collapsing into his arms. "I would follow you to the end of the galaxy."
"And you may have to," he said. "If I cannot convince the Doctor to loan us his screwdriver, I will need to muster all the Rebel Forces to convince Captain Picard."
And with that, they transported back to the Enterprise.


add as buddy
send NaNoMail
visit website