I had forgotten that you could up an excerpt of your novel on NaNoWriMo until last night while I was playing around and was actually looking at the forums (for all of five minutes, mind you; I’m not much for forums). I looked at the five and a half chapters (plus prologue) I had written already wondering if any of it would be good for an excerpt. I finally settled (lazily) on what I had just written in chapter six, deciding that it was kind of funny and seemed relevant enough to the overall story. That was around midnight or so, and now that it’s about a quarter of nine in the morning, I’ve groggily decided to post the same excerpt here ‘for lack of anything better to do,’ or as the French would say par désœuvrement. Hehe. So here’s the short little bit of the book so I can get back to the rest of it until work tonight. Enjoy!

      Johm appeared to be about my height with a light build and the same delicate features as his half-sister. His skin, however, was tan with a reddish tint to it, and his hair was as jet black as the Devil’s. His ears were even taller than his sister’s and stuck out from his head further. He had a more rounded face and a wider mouth under the exact same narrow and pointed nose as Erra. His almond-shaped eyes were smaller than his sister’s and were—of all colors—purple. I had never seen anyone with purple eyes before and had just assumed he would have a metallic shade like Erra’s copper eyes.

      O began introductions as Johm reached across the table to shake my hand. “Johm, this is my apprentice, Solennelle Woods. Just call her Sol.” I wrinkled my nose at him as I took Johm’s fine but strong hand. “Kid, this is Erra’s half-brother, Johm. You’ve heard us talking about him before.”

      “Pleased to meet you,” I said warmly. I was on pins and needles to skip these pleasantries and talk about the tournament.

      “Do I even want to know what kinds of stories you and my sister have been filling her head with?” Johm asked with a smile on his youthful face. I decided he was probably the older sibling, mostly just because he acted more mature and grounded than Erra.

      “Nothing overly incriminating,” the Devil said as he stood and stretched. He picked up the empty bottle and walked to the fireplace where he put the bottle on the mantelpiece. Reaching down, he grabbed a log from the pile and carefully laid it on the fire. “You’d have to do something interesting first, nature boy.”

      Johm smiled at O’s back and then turned to me. “However did you manage to sign on with the king of comedy over there? You know what he said to me when I arrived? ‘Hey, Johm, we made you a statue of your sister. It’s made out of your sister.’ Funny, huh? I laughed so hard I accidentally punched him.”

      The Devil had gotten another bottle of wine from the cabinet near the desk then came back to the table. He gingerly rubbed his jaw and remarked neutrally, “I think all that wrestling with bonnacons has given you a better jab, but I think maybe some of its dung got into your head.” He lowered an eyebrow at the Elf as he poured them both fresh drinks, giving him a knowing look.

      “What’s a bonnacon?” I asked, unable to keep myself from fueling my curiosity despite wanting to talk about the competition.

      Johm answered off-handedly as he picked up his goblet, “Imagine a very large bull with a horse’s mane except the horns are curved backward instead of forward. Then imagine this bull shitting and the shit flying over a hundred meters and setting fire to whatever it lands on. That’s its only real defense except for trampling smaller things under its hooves.”

      “Language,” O muttered as he held the goblet in front of his mouth before taking a drink. Johm ignored him.

      “We had finally found the bonnacon that was destroying our town’s sacred grove with its feces,” Johm emphasized before going on glumly. “But just as we got rid of it, another one popped up. That’s where Dad and I were when O’s message arrived and why I’m just now getting here to take Erra back to Elfée.” He looked at the statue by the couch and took a drink. I couldn’t read the expression on his face, not knowing him well enough to tell what he might be thinking. “She’d look nice in the forest too if it weren’t for that awful expression,” he stated sourly.