You may know that Red Eagle had a Graphic Novel series going of Robert Jordan's New Spring, but stopped production in the middle of the series. I was quite happy to get an email recently telling me that the unsent issues will now be sent!



I also found recently that they will be producing a graphic novel of The Eye of the World.

The following pictures were emailed to me by Red Eagle, and I have to say I'm a bit disappointed with their depiction of Mat and especially Perrin.

I do like the art style, though.






Maybe its just on the cover, but Perrin looks like a doofus. =D




What do you think?

First lines

Think you know all the literary works from which I took the first lines that make up my header?

(You can use your handle where it asks for your name.)

Thanks for suggesting this, R.!

First lines » Free Online Quizzes

Header is fixed. Enjoy!

http://fragmentaryblue.wordpress.com/2009/05/07/man-crush/

Best blog post in a while. It made me laugh out loud in my class. =)

I haven't written for so long!

I've decided to give you the little bit I have written of the story in my head that was inspired by JerryCai's amazing Little Red Riding Hood works.

*yes, I know there are no autumn colors or patches of golden sunlight in the art. It just felt right as I wrote.

She slipped among the trees, bare feet silent in spite of the ankle deep autumn blanket of gold and scarlet. Her heart thumped rhythmically within, loud and strong, racing adrenaline along her veins.

The warm, damp smell of the earth, the scent of the decaying leaves wafted on the breeze.

The wind picked up for a moment, twisting a funnel of sunset foliage around her, lifting and tossing her crimson cloak. The heavy cloth and silky lining sussed softly like the quiet sound of a mother hushing her babe. The sound soothed her, calmed the intensity of the hunt momentarily.

Her quarry crouched, vainly attempting to hide his dark bulk in the shadows of the woods, his golden eyes wide, his chest heaving as he sucked oxygen into his burning lungs.

Please…

The whisper drifted to her on the resettled breeze.

So.

They were going to do this the hard way.

Her cloak flared as she drew from its recesses the huge, black sword The Hunter had given her. The tip of the blade sank into soft terra at her feet.

Please…

She would not listen, would not show mercy. He had to have known who he’d been sent to kill, known they would retaliate. Even if he hadn’t, he’d chosen his own fate the day he’d become a Wolf.

As had she.

Oh, she could claim innocence, insist that when the Wolves found her she was too young to know what it was about, but what accounted for the years that she remained with them? They’d hardened her, honed her as sharp as any hilted steel, and she’d let them.

They had taken the little girl, found wandering in the woods in naught but a hooded cloak, and turned her into a weapon. They should not have been so surprised to learn that their weapon could turn on its makers.

The hunted Wolf darted from the dusky patch. Red stood statue still, tracking him with aurous eyes.

Then she followed, the Wolf within lending silence, stealth to her hunt.

David and Caden talk about Dared

"She wants to parley with your fath-" he stopped short as Caden's anger roared to life, wings not quite breaking the surface, dry heat rolling off of her in waves that broke against David, making him stumble back a step. "...with Dared."

He regained the inches that had been lost between them and reached out to brush her bare arm with the callused pads of his fingers. At the center of the slowly waning heat, Caden's skin was surprisingly cool. Her eyes softened, and the heat lessened another few degrees.

She leaned against him, the magic surrounding her now just pleasantly warm, like toast just from the pan, like a freshly filled mug snug between his palms. He chuckled softly. She reminded him of breakfast.

He enveloped her in his arms, toying with the tight, dark curls that now hung past her shoulderblades until the memory of the smell of her full anger - burning flesh and singed hair - made his stomach clench. His hand left her hair to run broad, firm strokes down her back, calming away her uncontrolled magic, tamping down the inner flames with his sure touch.

She relaxed into his ministrations until, had they not been standing, he would have suspected her of being asleep.

"He is a hard man." she murmured into his shirt.

"We will be just as hard." he whispered into her curls.

"He will not keep his word." Suddenly, she was trembling against him. He thought it was from the loss of heat, and drew her up tighter.

"Aestril will keep hers."

Caden tilted her head back, her black eyes searching his for a long time.

She shifted to stand upright, her full height still small next to David.

"We will need a white hare."