So, without further ado, here are the very first 8 sentences from my current WIP, Bloodroot and Bracken, a Historical/Supernatural novel set in 16th century Lancaster.
The weather was wet and miserable the day they buried Jane's mother. Barely six, she held onto her father's work-roughened hand and watched the burial with a frown, a little crease in her forehead, which suited her more than a smile ever had.
A fair crowd had gathered outside St Mary's for the funeral, huddled together and quiet in the rain. Everyone loved her mother, and her father was well-liked. Though Jane would have been upset if no one had come she hated that some of their neighbours were crying. What did they have to cry about? When they went home their families would be going with them; there wouldn't be an empty space by their hearth tonight.
The coffin looked far too small to hold someone as lively as her mother, in fact Jane half expected her to appear beside her, soaking wet and smiling.
I always enjoy writing funerals, there's something so atmospheric about them, and I think you can tell a lot about a person by how they grieve. I recently edited this opening scene, but I'm still not 100% happy with it. I just have to keep working at it!
Thanks for reading! J.