Nothing Else Mattered: Foul Deeds Will Rise (Trueborn Weft Series #2) for SoCS

Rowing where the stream of consciousness takes me!

This post is part of Linda G.Hill’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday meme -an unedited stream of consciousness piece that ties into the weekly prompt: this week, a piece that includes the word “ring”.

Last week, I wrote the following as part of my SoCS passage:

Is this the post I planned to write today?

No, it isn’t. Honestly, I was hoping to be able to share an excerpt from my new fantasy novel-in progress, Foul Deeds Will Rise. The problem is that I don’t have an excerpt to share; not yet.

Why not?

Well, it’s that Life thing…

It’s taken me another week to get the novel plotted – note to self: When using a new plotting method, in the future, allow at least twice as long as I think it will take...maybe, like Scotty, I should quadruple my estimates, so I become my own Miracle Worker…

At any rate, I’ve finished what I feel is a solid, cohesive plot that is going to produce a dynamic and tense story with some pretty high stakes. And, today, I’m sharing the first 481 words of that story with you…they’re not even an hour old, as I type this.

The prompt challenged me a bit, until I thought of the auditory form of ‘ring’, which tied into the screaming I already knew happens just before this opening scene…


This scene is rated R for sexual themes and violence. Proceed at your own discretion.

Without further fuss and bother, I give you Scene One of Foul Deeds Will Rise, in its entirety:

Nothing Else Mattered

The screaming had stopped, at last.

Niaan tangled her legs round Kaivelt’s waist, and arched up to tell him, in a way known to both their peoples, what she would have of him…


“No,” she whispered, her throat raw and dry.

“No, my own? Do you not wish…?”

She smiled as his brows drew together, and his gaze slipped from hers. Even now, as ever, there were things he couldn’t, or wouldn’t, say.

She had thought she could say anything to him – until –

The memory of screaming, and of blood –

She snarled; she was with Kaivelt. At last. Nothing else mattered, next to this.

Her hands went to his hips, nails digging in as though they were claws. As though she was in Huntform, as she had been…

No. Be here.

She left no more room for thought or memory – not the maze, and the huge and slavering Canivaarii…

Only Kaivelt, come from Everdeep –


No. That was no matter. No more than the memory of screams –

No. No one had been screaming.

She gave herself to him, and claimed him, in the same movements, the same bloodpulse and breath –

Blood, and breath. Needed for life. Blood shed on the blue stones with the faces beneath. Breath torn away, never to return…


Only this. Only Kaivelt, here, with her, in the arytana bower. Only the ancient rhythm and his firestars peeping and dancing in from above. Only the feel of him, the slip and tug of bodies so long apart…

How could he be here?

Sima garo provides…

She rolled him beneath, pinned him, bent to the Hunting of his lips, his mouth, his tongue…and she tasted something bland, but fetid…

Untribed blood.

And the maze, and the slavering Canivaarii, and the blood on blue stone faces, and the stink of murder, and the screams…

No. No one was screaming.

Then why was her throat so raw that each panted breath was a talon of pain? Why did her ears still ring from the sound, the sound that must have come from her, and no other – for the only other was the Kai her mother, and it was of a certain that she had not screamed –

How could she, with her throat torn out in that first instinctive leap, the Huntskills already surging…?

No. She played at no Hunting, save Matehunt, here, in this bower, with Kaivelt, her Solemate, come at last from his firestars and his Everdeep to claim her – to be claimed by her, both Hunter, both Hunted…

Only this. Let there be only this, and nothing more.

But the memory of screams was there, in her soul…even when they found Sating, and could give themselves no further to the frenetic joining of bodies, souls, and minds, even as the blossoms wrapped them in pleasant scent, the screams rang on and on in Niaan’s soul…

Why was Niaan screaming, if she was?

What do these memories mean?

Are they real?

Will she be able to relax and enjoy having her Solemate with her,

within the bower of sweet-smelling flowers?

Will I be able to write 75,000 words, in what’s left of the month?

Come back next week, when I may or may not answer some, all, or none, of these questions!

Have you tried stream-of consciousness writing? Come join in – there’s just a few simple rules. Check out the brand-new #SoCS hashtag, or Get more SoCS right here!

Let this be your portal!


    • Lauralynn,

      So sorry you got lost in this shuffle!

      The screaming…

      The screaming came after a traumatic event. Something of a psychotic break. She was nearly catatonic, otherwise…

      What happens here is an extremely horrific thing for anyone to do to anyone, let alone after what the other party knows about her very recent past…

      And that’s all I’m saying, here. =)

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