Thursday, February 7, 2013

Six Days Left!

Hello Bloggers and THE SAVANNAH SYNDROME (TSS) fans!  I'm sorry I did not blog yesterday, I had a long shift at work and came home to just relax and spend the day with my family.  I needed a break anyway to recharge and gather my thoughts.  In the meantime, I sold another copy of TSS!  And we broke the seven day milestone on the countdown to the first round results being released in Amazon's Breakthrough Novel Award contest!  I wonder if any of the other entrants are this worked up over this contest as I am, or if it is just me?  Follow my personal blog over at jzimmerman324.weebly.com.  By taking yesterday off from that blog as well, I found myself in a debate over a hotly contested issue in the military right now, which I'll be sharing my opinion of there.  So, without further delay, here is page thirteen of TSS!  Enjoy:

"around her.  Just before she emerged from the river’s mouth she submerged her entire body and forced her fingers through her hair, wetting it thoroughly.
She returned to her clothes, bucket, and sneakers with her rod and reel in hand.  Her shirt was now soaked from the splashing of her meal, but she left it off for now.  She put her clothes over her shoulder and picked up her shoes, knife, and then the handle of the bucket with her free hand. She slung her machete around her shoulder, the strap running over her right breast and under the curve of her left.  She allowed the air around her to dry her bare skin.  Her hair would take the longest and she would always try to return to the fort before it fully dried so she could brush it without those shoulder long strands being completely in tangles and knots.  Her bare feet wrapped over fallen timber carefully and stepped up through the high marsh grass, the tender green tips caressing her naked body as she made her way back to the old paths that bordered certain areas of the island.  She followed the pebbled walkway to the south, toward her dining area, a concrete structure called the North Battery Hambright.  She walked up the grassy knoll that allowed her easy access to the top of the Hambright with her meal sloshing around in the bucket.  She was lost in thought, wondering if her friends knew what fate awaited them.  They were surely in a state of shock, of unknown curiosity, but, perhaps also terror.  The camaraderie they shared in the bucket kept them much calmer than the days when she would only find one fish, but on those days she would usually release the fish.  She always needed more than one to properly feast.
     At the top of the hill, her feet came to the two-foot-thick concrete wall that dropped down to a circular cove which was meant to enclose a gun emplacement.  In the center of the circular area sat a pile of ash and a metal grill with four legs holding it above the area of burnt wood.  She left her bucket there and returned her clothes on top of it.  Quickly descending the three concrete stairs to the lower level, she hopped over the rusted metal railing.  She landed, her legs"

Confederate Memorial Statue, at the center of
Forsyth Park. 
 

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