This week’s post is Chapter 6, Scene 3 (1.6.3).
Feedback welcome. Thanks!
Still looking for more beta readers; if interested, email me at abehrhardt [at] gmail.
End of previous scene, followed by the link to the new scene:
She pouted penitently, interlocked her fingers primly in her lap like an attentive schoolgirl. “Proceed, please.”
Good. She could laugh at herself. He lifted the bottle in assent. “Colonel Strathmore––that’s me––forbids her to see young Winston––that’s John––but her sympathies are shifting. It’s complicated because my freed slave––Peter Hyland––doesn’t trust the insurgents…” He let the cool bitter liquid slide down his throat. Not bad—for colonials. The big room, the fire, the view, and the perceptive questions conspired with the lager to soothe him into his story. It amused him, how safe and peaceful she made it seem.
Since when do I crave peace?
~ ~ ~
Copyright by Alicia Butcher Ehrhardt 2013.