Taktsang Monastery. Built in 1692. Hanging nearly 10,000 feet off a cliff side cave. Impossible for outsiders to enter.
Cliff Hanger Saturday is a place where you can post your favorite "cliff hangers" of all time or just good writing at the end of the scene. (if not your own work, please give credit to the author and the book.) We all know, a scene should not end with anyone going to sleep. YAWN. But sometimes we see this. If the characters go to sleep, so do we.
So share favorites or write one here.
I have been posting excerpts for advertising and Rogue Phoenix Press. If you are writing an excerpt for something make sure that excerpt ends making the reader turn the page and read on. Do we want the reader up all night? Of course we do.
Excerpt: Highland Honor
Highland Honor
Christine Young
Excerpt Heat Level: 1
Book Heat Level: 3
Buy at:
www.roguephoenixpress.com
Scotland November 1512:
A heavy frost sat on the
frozen earth, and a full moon shone clearly between the heavy clouds dotting
the sky. Lady Callie Whitcomb looked over her shoulder as she raced through the
deepening gloom toward the lighted tavern ahead. Every shadow, every mournful
sigh of the wind sweeping through the trees, every chilling animal sound filled
her with terror. Fear for her life drove her to put all thoughts of danger
aside. He would follow her, find her, and drag her home.
Home.
"Don't think of that
now," she reminded herself fiercely, even while tears stung in the back of
her throat and fear made her limbs tremble. "Don't you dare think of home.
It no longer exists." Nothing and no one could coax her back or make her
believe there was naught but terror in the home where she'd been born.
"I will never marry
Lord Huntington. Never!" she whispered fiercely, the chill night air
solemnly echoing her words.
Her stepbrother, Archibald
Covington III, made sure she could never return.
"There ye be, lass!
I've been waiting for you."
The voice rose from nowhere
and surprised her. Her heart froze, lurched, then began an erratic beat, while
raw nerves snapped, sending a myriad of sensations racing down her spine.
"Archibald--" she
whispered, panic sweeping through her. "He's found me." All she could
hear was the pounding of blood in her ears.
Before she could reach her
destination, before she could find safe refuge from him, his men had found her.
No! Not now. Not when she thought she had eluded them all.
A wave of fear sweeping
through her reminded her, that if caught, she would be taken back to Archibald
and forced to marry Lord Huntington.
"I'll help you down,
lass."
"No."
Before she could react and
spur her horse forward, callous, rough hands centered on her waist then pulled
her from her mount.
"No!" She cried
out to no avail. Regaining her wits, she beat fiercely upon the man's broad
chest, tearing at his face and his thick beard with her fingers.
"Ach, lass! Hold still!
I mean ye no harm. Stop this--" His voice was gruff and impatient.
Fear for her life had
spurred her haste. Terror she might see Huntington or Archibald with each turn
of the road haunted every hour of her journey. Archibald had retainers
everywhere. Messages would have been sent. A highlander could be bought.
"Ruffian! Unhand me!
You barbarous Scotsman."
If Archibald had guessed
what path she followed...
"Verra well, ne'er let
it be said that I dinna do a lass' bidding." Just as suddenly as he'd
grabbed her, his hold upon her vanished. She stumbled backward.
Instantly, she found herself
sitting on the frozen earth. The man towering above her watched her with
concerned dark eyes. Despite the scar stretching from forehead to chin, his
mouth quirked upward in a humorous slant.
"Ye be a handful,
lass."
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