Tuesday, January 29, 2013

Sergeant Duke Miles

The leaves crush under the boots of Sergeant Duke Miles: a newly ranked sergeant.
His platoon was fanned out behind him. They where after a group named the Chevaliers; as they were so called by the French. They were allies with the Americans he had heard. There were many stories of them by the French. Stories of amazing strength, that some felt like a myth, but now they had turned rouge.
“Take five.” Miles said to his men they stopped and took a seat on the forest foliage. Miles went a further ahead; past some brush. His face was tired and old for a young man of twenty one. He had a muscular body and broad shoulders yet even these slumped.
 Reaching in to his pocket he pulled out a piece of paper: a letter. He couldn't open it. Images in he mind became silhouettes. Cries of men he had known as brother. He was helpless.
His head was in his hands his body shook from the pain.
A whinny came from the woods. Mile’s hand shot to his rifle. He had already lifted his head and stood from his wooden seat. The wood which he scanned showed no sign of movement. His rifle came relaxed in his hands.
“Nothing…” Pain burst through his whole body. Caught air to hit the ground hard.
"What the..." his head rose from the ground to have terror rush in as a cry hit the air. A golden horse was above him; hooves pawing the air. It's power Miles had never seen. The horse dropped. In seconds Miles rolled away just inches from the hooves which cracked the ground.
On his belly. Ahead he saw his rifle. It had fell just a few feet away.
The stallion reared again.Miles reach out for the stock.the horse dropped.
His hand clutched the rifle jerking around he aimed. Five Feet....
GuĂ©rir! Diego!” a single voice cut the air.
The horse’s powerful body went silent . Its front hooves caught the ground inches from Mile’s head.
Still catching his breath Miles stumbled up not moving his eyes from the animal.
“Bon garcon…” came the same voice. Soft and delicate like a spring wind.  Miles was reminded of his rescuer. He turned to see a young woman, Crimson blood down her arm and leg, leaning against a sword not strong enough to stand. Miles stared at her mystified. “May?”
Strength drained from the woman and she toppled. Miles was there to catch her.
She fell in to his arms. He was staring into the soft face he had loved since he first saw her. It was her!
Miles turned hearing his men coming for him. He got up carrying May in his arms. Tom Rogers, a buddy and solder of Miles, was the first.
 “Are you okay, Sarg…”  Tom stopped, confusion written on his face as he saw the woman in the arms of his sergeant.
Miles did not notice him, “We need to get this woman some medical attention now!”



Monday, January 7, 2013

Would you read this?

Who is Truly Rich 

A for - hire assassin, at the age of sixteen has never receive or felt love, even from her own mother, has been caught by the state. Unable to fill out the lifelong sentence she has one more chance to renew her life. 
Mr. Roger the richest man in New York makes her his ward.

So a girl from the streets, who lives with a wish to die, becomes an heir to be met by riches and a treasure that comes from the most unexpected places. A butler, chauffeur, and a young boy.