Well, many others have offered up their six sentences, so here are mine.
.
“Sara, move!”
The impact of Michael’s hand against my shoulder provided an impetus that thrilled me forwards in a blur of motion – I found myself on the far side of the crossroads in a heartbeat.
A moment later we were sprinting up Sampson Square, flashing past the darkened shops.
My limbs moved faster than I would have thought possible as behind us, a feral howl rolled up the street, blasting through the air and ripping the September leaves from the trees.
“What the hell was – ?”
“Never mind,” Michael yelled. “Just keep running!”
.
Hopefully, this segment coveys the urgency of Sara and Michael’s desperate flight from a horde of Spawn – unfortunate individuals who have been endangered to the point of death, where their souls have been snatched away, leaving them as empty, enslaved monsters. Michael, an angel (of sorts) is able to assist Sara by temporarily enhancing her muscles with supernatural energy. These are not standard ‘zombies’. They are closer to ‘I am Legend’ than ‘Dawn of the Dead’, and are capable of a surprising turn of speed.
This segment is lifted from the chapter where Sara finally realises that the dangers around her are real and that Michael really has a serious purpose on Earth.
Any thoughts or feedback would be gratefully received.
PS I will get the hang of this Sunday / Monday thing.
Andrew Toynbee's very own Blog 
Aug 03, 2012 @ 23:24:53
I loved it and frowned when I reached the end. You left me right at the edge of the cliff! What happened and how did they manage their escape?
Good writing!
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Aug 01, 2012 @ 01:22:41
I nominated you for the Liebster Award because I appreciate your writing and the support that you have given to mine! Check out my blog for deets!
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Jul 31, 2012 @ 19:59:54
I’ve nominated you for the Liebster award. check out my page for details!
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Jul 31, 2012 @ 19:42:04
You definitely hit the mark concerning a sense of urgency. Nicely done!
I look forward to reading more six sentence Sundays (or Mondays ha!) from yourself!
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Jul 31, 2012 @ 19:45:04
Thanks for the encouragement. I have now put some new batteries in my calendar…
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Jul 30, 2012 @ 23:24:25
It sounds interesting! I like how you said “ripping the September leaves from the trees” I could see it, the reds and golds and orange. I could hear it…that crisp sound they make when they’re falling and blowing in the stiff wind. Made me miss Northern Maine…a lot!! Can’t wait to read it!
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Jul 31, 2012 @ 18:54:02
Hi Sonya
Thanks for your kind words. Unfortunately, unless a willing agent pops out of the woodwork sometime soon, you may have to wait a long time to read ‘A Construct of Angels’.
That is, unless I decide to go down the eBooking route…
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Jul 31, 2012 @ 20:18:30
Catchy title! Crossing my fingers that one of those elusive agents pops up for you! If you decide to go ebook I’ll be ready to click the purchasing icon 🙂 Best of luck either way!!!
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Jul 31, 2012 @ 20:32:51
Sonya
Thank you for offering to click. Actually, I was toying with the idea of releasing part of the first chapter of the book for critiquing (now that I have accumulated a flock of friendly followers). Would that be of interest? I am looking for clues as to why John Jarrold (Literary Agent and Book Doctor) ‘wasn’t entirely drawn in’ by the opening of my book.
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Aug 01, 2012 @ 00:36:40
Andrew
Absolutely!!! I can’t wait to see more of what you’ve written 🙂
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Aug 07, 2012 @ 11:38:18
Sonya
Here’s the remainder of that chapter;
(Just to clarify, text in italics are Sara’s thoughts)
Two slack-jawed men tumbled from Jubbergate. Michael thrust his hand towards them and they spun away, falling in a tangle of limbs. More bodies appeared in my peripheral vision.
As Michael sprinted onwards, I found my pace flagging. With his hand no longer touching my back, fatigue had begun to drag at my wearied limbs. Air wheezed in my throat and my lungs seemed to be shrinking, unable to deliver enough oxygen to my fading muscles. Ahead, Michael sensed my struggle and slowed his pace.
“No! Don’t stop!” I wheezed. I waved a leaden arm forwards. I could see the bike ahead of us, chained to the steel lamppost.
You still need to unlock that thing. Go without me! Don’t leave me! You need to get away from here! Help me!My common sense, my bravery and my fear all jockeyed for dominance within my head, causing Michael obvious confusion.
Aw, hell. “Go! Go!” I howled. I glanced over my shoulder, an action that slowed me even further. I knew I could ill afford to lose speed, but I had to know what was behind me. The sight that greeted my eyes filled me with dismay.
The Spawn were running – something I hadn’t seen them do before. And their numbers had multiplied.
Aw, hell! High-speed zombies! Not fair!I put new energy into my sprint, driving my wearied legs as hard as I could. Ahead of me, Michael was almost at the bike. An unearthly noise washed over me, sending a chill down my spine. It was the sound of a hundred people howling in unison. And immediately ahead of me, a hollow-eyed man exploded from a shop doorway, his dark gaze fixed upon Michael’s back. Without a thought for the consequences, I lowered my good shoulder and cannoned into him, sending us both sprawling. My hands struck the pavement, but desperate momentum continued to propel me forwards. For several paces, I found myself scampering along on all fours. By the time I had managed to push myself upright, Michael had reached the bike and was fumbling with the combination lock. I tried to close the distance, slamming my lead-filled legs down onto the paved surface, but now I was moving at little more than walking pace.
Any slower and I’ll be running on the spot! Behind me, the howling reached a crescendo, forcing me to clamp my hands against my ears.
Just one more step…just one more step. Michael glanced up, sensing my terror, then began to rise.
“Get that bloody chain off!” I cried. Michael turned back to the lock. It opened. He kicked the chain aside, then leapt onto the bike. It started immediately, throwing out blue smoke. He revved the little engine and rolled the bike forward onto the road just as I reached him.
If this was Hollywood, I’d end this by vaulting onto the back of that thing.
But I knew, with my arms of rubber and my legs barely supporting me, that I barely had the strength to lift a leg over the seat.
This ain’t Hollywood.Tossing my dignity aside, I threw myself across the saddle behind Michael, flopping heavily onto my nauseated stomach.
“Go!” I wheezed. “Get us away from here!”
The bike screamed and lurched forwards. I felt myself sliding off the smooth saddle and reached for anything that I could grip. Luckily, the exhaust was still cool. It supported me for the precious seconds that I needed before I spotted a foot peg and was able to wrap both hands around it.
My legs struck something hard. I heard a grunt and I was spun sideways. One of my hands was torn free. It flailed around for a heart-stopping moment before it found Michael’s leg. I grabbed a handful of loose material and clung on, hoping that I wasn’t cutting off his circulation. I felt Michael’s left hand grabbing at my backpack, preventing me from slipping off completely. I turned my head to look back at the square and saw hundreds of Spawn – both men and women – all snarling their frustration, still charging after us. Michael leaned the bike left, then right and all sight and sound of the mob was suddenly lost in the twisting, turning streets of York. I tried to force out a cheer, but the only sound that emerged was some sort of panicked whimper.
Yay for our side.The mental cheer, at least, rang clearly in my head. Hopefully it reached Michael, but I had little time to wonder as I hung on desperately to his leg.
What seemed like a lifetime later, he stopped the bike and lifted my pain-wracked body into a sitting position behind him. As the bike rolled forwards again, I pressed myself against his back, grateful for our narrow escape, knowing that every inch of my body was probably going to be battered black and blue.
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Aug 07, 2012 @ 20:12:28
Two quick questions for you:
1. Do you drive a motorcycle?
2. Did you submit to an American or English Agent?
….and is this what you sent in to that agent?
Sorry to be cryptic…..just trying to get a perspective on what I’ve read…which is good by the way 🙂
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Aug 08, 2012 @ 20:19:03
Hi Sonya
I tried to drive a motorcycle back in 1983, and then again in 1986 before I admitted that it wasn’t for me. I prefer four wheels although the idea of the thrill of a powerful bike still lingers…
I submitted exclusively to British agencies – I thought the idea of my story being set in York might put any overseas agents off…
What you read is an extract from Chapter 22 – I sent the first three chapters to each agent, with the exception of Mr Jarrold, who stipulates the first six.
I’m intrigued…what’s on your mind, Sonya?
🙂
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Aug 09, 2012 @ 04:45:14
Andrew,
It’s not bad…promise 😉
Although I’ve never driven one myself,bad experience backing one up when I was 16. It was my dad’s and it ended up on it’s side. Through brute strength and sheer terror, I lifted it back upright and put it back on it’s kick-stand. My dad made me start it and drive it into the garage a whole 5 feet away. I don’t think my knees have stopped shaking since then…lol
Sorry – went down memory lane on ya….
I honestly liked what you had….I kept in mind that the driver was of supernatural stature so he would be able to manage hanging on to the throttle and Sarah without wrecking. I was worried about her hands and the pipes and then cheered you on for the foot peg.
I liked the build up of “hurry up…get away!” and that they did just that. I could “see” what you wrote and that is a major bonus for me. I like to be reading right along and realize the words are gone and a mental picture has taken it’s place…kudos for that!
As for questioning American vs. British….well you know how you can read something and get the tone of the author through the wordage (not the best to describe what I mean) and mannerisms and such? Well, it made me wonder which route you had gone since some agents can be very particular on how things are “said”. Kinda like when you called the motorcycle seat a saddle – it threw me for a second because my mind switched gears and I saw a horse. So that was more of a curiosity on my part.
I hope this helps – either way I’m honored that you let me have a peak! I wish you the best of luck with whichever avenue you chose.
Might I suggest an ebook publisher to you? My best friend is awaiting the debut of her novel Born In Flames and she is signed with 48fourteen. Maybe they too will be as intrigued as I was!
Best of luck Andrew!!!
~ Sonya
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