Cliff Hanger Saturday: Just Like the Matinees of Old

Silver Falls, Oregon

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!

From Meadows of Gold by C.L. Kraemer

Cliffhanger for Meadows of Gold

By

C. L. Kraemer

Gitty tore through the forest. She hadn’t heard from Glade in several days. He always sent a messenger bird after a successful battle and she hadn’t heard a thing. Her stomach ached with worry. Slowing her steed, she pulled him to a stop and dismounted. She tied him to the nearest tree opting to walk the rest of the way to the caravan camp.

She followed the trail she’d memorized breathing easier as the forest opened to the clearing. But the scene unfolding before her struck fear in her heart. The fire pit was black and dark. There were no caravans to be seen anywhere and by the disturbed dirt on the forest floor; the inhabitants had left in a hurry. Gitty ran to the spot where Glade’s caravan had stood. Jammed into the ground through his green jerkin was his bloodied sword. Next to the sword stood his riding boots covered in blood.

Gitty sucked air into her lungs. Dropping to her knees, her fingers trembled as she reached out to the boots.

“No.” The word whooshed from her mouth.

Snapping twigs alerted her to the presence of another. She looked up to see a haggard faced, young forest night elf.

“Twelve went out, one came back. Keep your mountain and your wretched valley. It’s not worth the price. He loved you more than any other woman and would have presented you many healthy sons. You wasted his life.”

The young warrior spit on the ground next to her, turned on his heel and disappeared into the towering pines.

Gitty sat on her heels, determined to be strong, but the moment her hand touched the soft, green leather jerkin, she broke down and wept, the sighing wind through the pine boughs harmonizing with her keening wails.

It was at that moment any compassion felt by the she night elf disappeared.