Path not Taken.


Greetings to all of our amazing readers. This will be a rather quick post today. Why, you ask? Well, the long and short of it is we are busily at work on writing book 3 in the Necromancers’ Pride Saga – Storm of Shadows. So much has gone into the creation of this world. Our time has led us down some fascinating paths.

This week, I want to share with you a deleted scene from one of those paths not taken. In this excerpt, Corwyn and Velladriana get to Mama Weaver’s hut, but what they have to overcome is completely different from the encounter in the pages of Quest for Elderstone. 

Writing is rewriting. We search for the most exciting, visceral and logical elements with which to inhabit our world and tell our story. Often, we like very much what we originally wrote, but we do not close our minds to the possibilities that further exploration of a scene can reveal to us. That having been said, we leave you now with this excerpt, while we delve once again into process of world building and storytelling!



Corwyn steadied his breath, which issued forth from his lips in visible puffs and channeled his resolve to its highest point.  He had to remain calm.  He had to keep his clarity through the chaos that was about to ensue; a chaos that was building in ferocity at the other end of the small canyon.

Setting the woman down carefully just inside the hut’s leather flap, Corwyn stepped forward and drew his mighty sword.  Though his skills were great, he doubted that even they and his fantastic weapon could overcome the odds that beset him now. 

Fully four feet at the shoulder and easily weighing two hundred pounds, banshee wolves far outsized their smaller, distant cousins.  Though similar in appearance, the greatest differences between them and common wolves were in their ferocity and fore claws.  Instead of paws on their forelegs, as common wolves had, banshee wolves had claws very similar to that of bears.  Their dagger-like tips turned like wicked hooks and were used like hands to grasp their pray before a maw full of equally deadly teeth shredded muscle from bone with feral abandon.  The beasts could also stand like bears, rising on their haunches to tower over their pray before striking down with the full weight of their massive frames.

The gully grew dark in the pale moonlight as the beasts slowly stalked forward.  Corwyn looked on with a resolve that battled against dismay as a fifth and final creature entered.  Banshee wolf packs were never any larger, as their massive size prevented larger numbers from effectively hunting together.

Five is more than enough,  Corwyn thought as he gripped the handle of his sword, its familiar contours giving him some small measure of comfort. He drew a deep breath. It was a breath, he feared, that could very well be one of his last. 

Necromancers’ Pride ~ (deleted excerpt)

What did you think of this different encounter?

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