Jennifer M Eaton’s doing a blog hop critique–250 words (plus the end of the last sentence)–you post, critique others from the list, and critique back anyone who gives you a critique.
I’ve chosen a snippet from the beginning of the second book in my Witch of Atlas series.
Background: Humans found out 23 years ago that the fey–nonhuman creatures like unicorns, elves, and pixies–are real, and so is magic. Althea Raven is a witch (a magic using human), who works as a consultant, dealing with the problems that arise from supernatural creatures interacting with humans.
UPDATE: Addressed some, though not yet all, of the critiques. It’s no longer 250 words, sorry!
* * * *
Three hard raps sounded from the door.
“Coming!” Althea called. She swung open the door to reveal a man and a woman, both wearing suit jackets nearly covering guns at their belts. She recognized them from the image the nerieds had shown her—her stalkers from last week. “Hello?”
“Althea Raven?” The man’s height could easily intimidate, and his rugged features weren’t improved by the bump in his nose from an improperly set break. From the gravel in his voice and the intensity in his eyes, Althea judged he used his looks to his advantage.
“Yes. Can I help you?” Having faced down an enraged dragon, Althea found his attempts to frighten her with a glare amusing.
“We need to talk. May we come in?” His question sounded like a demand, and he leaned forward, shifting his weight to take the space without waiting for permission.
“I don’t think so.” Althea stepped back, sweeping the door closed.
“Wait!” The man stepped forward, and caught the door before she’d closed it more than halfway. As soon as his fingers touched the painted wood, the bronze dragon door guardian coiled around the doorknocker screamed. The little dragon’s eyes blazed green as her house’s defensive spell activated, and it stretched its neck, metal claws scrabbling across the wood as it headed for the offending digits. The man retreated, his eyes on the dragon’s open mouth and metal teeth. The woman’s hand dropped over her gun, her blue eyes fixed on Althea, assessing whether the witch was a greater threat.
“Whoa, peace,” Althea stepped onto the porch. The door swung shut behind her, and her guardian fell silent, watching the man closely. As an animated statue, the guardian couldn’t feel emotion. Althea, on the other hand, was growing annoyed. “Do you have a warrant?”
“Only criminals want warrants to invite in the FBI,” the woman said.
“You didn’t say you’re FBI,” Althea said. “Did you, Agent…?” She paused expectantly.
The man glanced at the woman, and she nodded. He opened his mouth to speak, but a shriek sounded from the backyard before he could answer.
“What’s this, break-in day?” Althea grumbled.
She circled around her house, the two agents following her.
Click on over to these great writers to check out and critique what they’ve posted!