Flight of Passion

So I’m now up to just over 4000 words on this chapter which I’m calling ‘Flight of Passion’ for the moment.

It’s working out quite well, but it also throws a bit of a spanner in the works.  Maybe the working title will give you a clue as to why that is the case.  Anyway it seems like it’s either going to define the rest of the novel, or it’s going to have to stand alone.  Now, I’m fine with either option but I’m not going to double my workload by writing two novels, that would just be crazy.

Oh, and here’s a further excerpt so you know that I’ve been doing something these past few months.

Caroline shivered a little in the cool night.  She had walked from one end of the town to the other, looking for a place to rest, but in many cases the innkeepers didn’t believe her story or have any pity for a penniless stranger in strange clothing.

So she stood at the threshold of the last inn with some trepidation.  But the feeling of warm air brushing her pinched cheeks compelled her inside.

Inside she found a young woman standing by the fire, which seemed to by dying out.  She seemed lost in her thoughts and didn’t notice Caroline until the doors snicked shut.

“Good evening,” she said.  “I’m sorry, but I was just about to close up.  If you’re looking for a bed for the night, you best be moving on, m’lady, for I have none to spare.”

“I’ve been everywhere else,” Caroline replied, “and unfortunately there doesn’t seem to be any welcome for a weary traveller with no coin.  But I won’t trouble you with my story.  Good evening to you.”  She smiled graciously and turned to leave.

“How is it that you have traveller so far without any coin?” asked the woman incredulously.

“I’m from a faraway place where acquiring wealth and material possessions is less important than the pursuit of peaceful co-existence and the betterment of all.”

“With a tale like that, I’m not surprised you’ve been turned away by all the other inns in town.”

“Does that mean you’re not turning me away, then?”

“Well they may not believe you, but I can.  Long ago, my sister left this town, vowing to give her wealth to others and live a humble life in the mountains.”

Caroline approached the warmth of the fire and asked, “What became of her, then?”

“I haven’t heard from her but I hear stories now and then.  They tell of a wanderer who mends broken carts, washes clothes, and cooks a hearty broth in the villages she passes through.”

“Well if it is your sister, she sounds like a decent and selfless person,” Caroline remarked.  “I can’t say I’ve run into her though.”