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–creatures like unicorns, elves, and pixies–are real, and so is magic. Althea Raven is a witch who works as a consultant, dealing with the problems that arise from supernatural creatures interacting with humans.
Bare bones summary: Two FBI agents knock on Althea’s door. As they’re talking, something screams in the backyard. There, they discover another male agent under Althea’s dragon guardian (animated statue). Althea frees him, and reveals that she knows the agents are witches. They sit on Althea’s porch, and the agents ask her to come and consult for them about their fey problems. Althea goes inside to grab her bag.
* * * *
<I knew they’d be fun> Diamond hopped into the bag, emerald eyes alight. <What secrets do they have? Little mice think they’re safe in their holes, but I hear them rustling>
“Watch whose mind you go hunting in, dear,” Althea couldn’t control what her familiar did, but she lived in hope of minimizing the damage. She slid the tote onto her shoulder and stepped outside, patting the dragon on its cool metal head as she passed. “Ready,” she said to the agents, who were standing in a group by the door.
“Our car’s this way, Ms. Raven.” Papadakis lagged behind the others to walk with Althea.
“Does this mean you won’t be following me anymore?” Althea slid into the backseat of the white SUV with Papadakis, Smith in the driver’s seat, and Lamington in the front passenger.
As the car turned onto the access road to the highway, Papadakis considered Althea for a moment, and discarded artifice. “How’d you disappear in that creek?”
“Nereid portal. As long as they don’t decide to drown you, it’s safe.”
“Couldn’t you tell them it’s inconvenient?”
“Some things you can tell the fey, but they never hear.” Althea shrugged. “You get used to it.”
“Evidence suggests otherwise,” Smith rubbed the lower right side of her ribcage and grimaced in remembered pain.
Althea gauged the level of grimness on all three agents’ faces, and said nothing. Some traumas were better left alone.
* * * *
Click on over to these great writers to check out and critique what they’ve posted!