Name: London Crockett
Electronic missives: London (at) brokengirl.info
Title & Genrre: THE FORTY-SEVEN WORDS OF THE BROKEN GIRL (YA/Cross-over Fantasy)
The massacre is just the beginning. Can a naïve girl on crutches learn magic and the ways of the word fast enough to save all she loves?
FIRST 250 WORDS:
“Can you help a man, ma’am?” said the broken man sitting on a thick palm root next to Mr. Taálix’s Book Emporium. “You can understand. Is not so easy for us,” he pointed to Jinxx, whose crutches had sunk a bit into the mud near the palm. “Especially when we get on a bit.” His left arm ended with a hand whose fat fingers bent all akimbo and the side of his face drooped, but didn’t move with his words.
Jinxx looked up at her mother, tugging gently on her skirt. Her mother nodded and handed her two copper splits. Jinxx dropped them in the man’s tin cup. “May God bless you, sir.”
“And God bless you both. I can’t say the last time I heard those words.” His smile didn’t involve half of his face, but the other side more than made up for it. “God bless you both.”
Jinxx carefully placed her crutches to avoid the missing cobblestones as she and her mother left the man and went to the entrance of the shop. It was larger than their Prayer House back in Naserys—the village nearest their farm—built out of stone with small round windows at the top of the second story, and crammed so tightly between two date palms that the walls had insets around the trees. Compared to the rest of the buildings they’d passed in the trade faire, it was the most conventional.