And I said, "Hearken unto me, muse!"

"There will be authorship type stuff of Awesome this evening!" the writer proclaimed.

And it was so.  (^__~)

No, really.  I wrote 2100 words more on the sequel to The Last Legend.  Yay!  Of course, tomorrow will be the real test when I read it again and either hate it or fall in love with it.  (^__~)


Here's a blurb if you would like a taste of what sort of warriors the Fianna of ancient Ireland are:

The race begins as is always has and always will.  Running feet whisper in the night like a pulse.  Labored breaths echo like the susurrus sound of the wind.   The darkness itself clings like a skin.

Some wear it better than others.  One in particular becomes the night; at last, after a day of half-truths and civilized posturing, she shows her true face in the shadows.  Kellan follows her progress from where he crouches upon the bough of a tree.  The deer trail beneath him is empty, but it will not remain so for long.

She is approaching.