Consider Myself Challenged!
Oh my goodness! It’s already May 8th and this is my first blog post all month!
Q’s: Where does the time fly and what do I have to show, in the way of writing, for this rift in blog posts?
A’s: Don’t know, and not much. *sigh*
Well, I won a little challenge with my Romance Angels group. That was fun! The cool thing is, I get to judge this month’s contest and to come up with next month’s challenge.The challenge was to describe a character’s hands and what they tell about the character in 250 words or less. I took 247 to describe Nikodemos, the trireme admiral’s hands from my novella (which I did not finish as I challenged myself to do – but that’s another story). In this scene, Niko leads Korinna away from the bustle of the agora to a quieter place, which doesn’t sound very exciting by 21st century standards, but in Ancient Athens women of stature were never allowed to go to the agora unchaperoned – yet there she was and now the wolf is protecting the lamb.
~*~
Nikodemos’s hand cradled Korinna’s elbow as he led her away from the center of the bustling agora. Strumming, pulsing heat from his palm radiated up her arm, straight to her core. With each quickened step their synergy increased, as did the density of the crowd.
Without breaking stride, Nikodemos stepped in front of her and slid his hand down her forearm in a deliberate caress. The texture of his surprisingly gentle, calloused palms sent bursts of delight skipping across her skin.
When he reached her hand, he grasped protectively. His eyes captured hers, asking permission. Korinna’s breath hitched as she nodded, silently consenting to the intimacy of their fingers’ embrace. He squeezed her hand in acknowledgment, and resumed forging a path.
As if leading an intricate dance of collision avoidance, Nikodemos dipped his shoulder, plowing a deliberate furrow through the throngs. She felt swept along with his purposeful momentum, keeping up with him, step for step, anticipating every nuanced signal relayed through his reassuring grip.
Korinna clung to the hand that enveloped hers completely, relishing the stark contrast of her satiny paleness to his bronzed, weathered toughness. His exuded strength earned over years of manning the oars and gripping the sword. Unlike her, he had afforded little time for pampering, or for cowering from the sun.
She had no idea where he was taking her, but the intensity of his hypnotic hold made it impossible to resist.
~*~
BTW, one of my mentors said this has too many adjectives. The other mentor is of the mind that you can never have enough. What’s your opinion of adjectives in general?
