Last week I posted the 1st 8 sentences of a new project I'd just started writing. Although my writing time has been very limited this week, I'm having a great time with this project. I'm not sure where the story is going, but I do know it's set in the 13th century and it's going to be some kind of Gothic romance.
Branches grabbed at her, catching in her hair and grabbing at the tattered cloak, scraping her flesh, trying to bind her. Every time she broke free of one twig, it seemed like another took its place.
Rachel panicked. Her arms failed and she jerked this way and that, fighting the forest, too frightened to notice the deep gouges multiplying on her face and hands, or the chunks of hair that remained tangled on the trees after she managed to pass.
Rachel didn’t know how long she fought her way through the trees, but when she came to the edge of them and stepped into rolling pasture, relief rushed through her, so strong her knees nearly buckled.
She didn’t think, she ran.
She managed two steps when an arm reached out, wrapped around her waist, and jerked her against an unyielding body.