Diana Pharaoh Francis | Diana P. Francis | Diana Francis


Monday, January 9th, 2012
A snippet from Blood Winter

So this is rough, but from Blood Winter:

“Quit wasting time,” Max said. “Give me your pain now.”

“I—”

For a moment Max thought she was going to have to pull Giselle into the abyss, far away from any attack. Then suddenly an ugly, grinding sensation flowed through her wrists followed by an unholy itching. It chewed its way up her arms and sank into her bones. The feeling was relentless. It gnawed in places she couldn’t reach. Her fingers curled, her nails digging hard into Giselle’s wrists. Bones compressed and cracked. Giselle made a high pitched sound that instantly cut off. It was all Max could do not to let go and scrape at the merciless sensations enveloping her. But if she did, Giselle wouldn’t be able to concentrate.

“Fix this,” Max hissed through clenched teeth. She’d suffered plenty before—pain of every kind. But this was different. It found places she’d not realized existed and it inflammed them with a violent itch. She want to rip herself apart to get at it. It was indescribably horrific.

Giselle’s face was set in a mask of cold fury. Once again her body had become her own. Her magic lost it’s tangled, matted look and became elegant, roping around her in muscular vines. She wrenched one hand free and gripped Max’s wrist with the other. Giselle towed her to the wall with sharp, determined strides and slapped one hand flat to the stone.

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