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Maya Rock is our Guest Critiquer for February.  She shares her five years of experience working with authors at Writer’s House and her experience as a published author with the three three First Page below.  Maya Rock is available for editorial work–you can read more about her services at www.maya-rock.com.

Here is the picture prompt used for February was illustrated by Courtney Autumn Martin (www.slumberlandstudio.com or Illustrator Saturday http://wp.me/pss2W-456.

THE GREEN MIST by Donna Taylor

“That’s it,” Ben said, gasping for air. “We’re goners. There’s no way out!” He and Kamma stopped short of the precipice of a  cliff precipice. Looking back, they could see the expansive undulating motion of the expansive silhouette silhouette undulating. A tsunami of barbarians was bearing bore down on them. ; Only their  Their weapons flashed in the moonlight. “Kamma, why would you lead us here?” he said. “You said it was our only escape!”

Kamma gripped his wrist. “I told you I came from a special place.” She was unshaken. “Trust me—and don’t pull away. As long as I hold you, the fingers of the Green Mist will cradle us like babies and carry us to safety. Let go—and its fingers are fire.”

“What are you talk—?” Ben slowly swallowed his words when Kamma’s pupils glowed brighter and brighter, into a blinding white. She looked at the enemy, their figures now discernible, then lifted her head to the moon and closed her eyes. Beneath the circle of grass surrounding them, the dirt The dirt beneath their feet became porous like a mesh screen; through it came a gust of warm wind filled with a brilliant green mist. It whipped Kamma’s long, black hair from her shoulders, then encircled them like a cyclone. It stirred the ring of lush grass and tugged at their clothes. Her voice became visceral and shrill.

“The moon is full, the moon is high; down is home, down we fly!”

Suddenly, the The earth trembled. The army halted, trying to brace themselves from falling into one another or onto their drawn swords and spears. Under the grass where the two friends stood, a circle of the ground splintered, snapped and moaned. Then, with a thunderous crack, like a ceramic plate hammered at its center, the earth land shattered and crumbled, giving way beneath their feet.

“Don’t let go!” Kamma yelled, as their bodies became airborne. Ben twisted, trying to break free, grasping aimlessly at anything to break their fall. Kamma’s grip was stronger than his futile efforts as they soared downward through a tunnel of stone, leaving the moon—and their pursuers—behind.

8 Comments on Free Fall Friday (February) – Editorial Consultant Maya Rock, last added: 2/24/2012