Genre: Mainstream Fiction
About RootyTooLocation: Upper Peninsula -roving Home Region: Website: http://rootytooadventures.blogspot.com/ Favorite novels: "The Life of Pi" by Yann Martel, "Soul Music" by Terry Pratchett Favorite writers: The Fairytales of Hans Christian Anderson, Victor Hugo Favorite music: quiet, there is a novel playing Non-noveling interests: the study and exploration of dreams, dance, walking vacations, travel, people, their stories, the ocean, the Great Lakes, rock and roll, the magic it takes to make a work of art come alive |
Joined: October 10, 2006 This Year: Official Participant NaNoWriMo History: NaNoWriMo posts: 35 NaNoWriMo buddies: 11
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Synopsis: The Angels of the Devil
My novel is a Fantasy/Horror/Religious/LoveStory that takes place over three centuries.
When a lonely imaginative boy with a black future meets a mischievous girl, fleeing from her nannies, in the forest, their lives are changed forever. Dark legacies that have plagued their families for three centuries have pushed them together but now threaten to pull them apart. One illusive clue will take them across two continents as they seek to undo a repeating curse that threatens to destroy them both as well as everything they hold dear.
They must step along a path where what is gifted becomes damned and what is damned might be the highest calling.
Excerpt: The Angels of the Devil
“I come from tainted blood and birds' nests, from the arms of the Fair Green Queen and the boots of others unwilling to wait for me to fall from my curse on my own sharp dagger. I come from sweet cakes on high and a secret rosy lass who comes to hide herself with me. I come from the treachery of what my fathers could not stop and the benevolence of the forest green and black and brown and white. I come with strings green and golden yellow, blue and purple and red. I come with clouds of butterflies about me, unafraid even though I am supposedly cursed for their murders too. I come with Faith, who is quiet and has given me the stock of his love and allegiance. I come mostly alone, but with the conversations of a monk and the spells of a gypsy ringing in my thoughts and the vision of a secret rosy lass and the family of all things wild to make me free and full. I come with colors dimming and blooming, wanting to bloom and prying at the edges for more light, and come alone as darkness follows me into every crevice and dream I dare. I come knowing only what holds me and what I cannot hold and standing free in myself until the day I am struck down and dead in my grave. I come wondering if my story will open further and daring to lie upon the grass in the presence of the sun and God and ask Him to do His worship upon me as well or be off with Him and let me have my dark, lost dreams divide the stars.”
-the rant of the boy in the forest telling his story
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