...Fictitious murder, folks. We're all about the fantasy here.
Not gonna lie, people and non-people die in my books (but never the dog!). Usually amid spatter and gore. Depending on the series, death is by blade, brute strength, or magic. Parasites that extract salt from a body while injecting venom that boils the blood. A portal that tears open a heart. Angel fire or electrocution. Eviction of a soul. How 'bout an old fashioned neck snap. The bodies do pile up in my stories.
The murder that still makes me snicker (because I'm an evil author, natch) is from my debut novel LARCOUT where our fire-warrior protag is being introduced to a new culture that assumes women are feeble:
Vadrigyn pivoted. Her fist connected squarely with the nose of the closest fool…and punched through the back of his skull. Blood and brain oozed down her wrist and stained her vambrace. The body reduced to sand, leaving her with a skull bracelet.In this time of social distancing, please, Wash Your Damn Hands and Stay Home when possible. You don't know who around you is a carrier or immunocompromised. Dying from the plague is a shitastic way to go.
Soft blows, barely more than a swat at the air, would suffice to incapacitate a blood-being. She knew that. Gentle. She must be gentle in combat.
🍀 Lá Fhéile Pádraig sona duit! 🍀
Post a Comment