Five things I miss about Havendale


Hi all. It’s me, David from IN THE SHADOW OF THE DRAGON KING. Charlotte and I took the day off yesterday. Things got kind of bad, and we had to run, but we’re safe for now (thank you, oh scribbler of our tale).

I have no idea what to talk about except what’s on my mind and right now, that would be my home, Havendale.

I miss my home so much.  I remember when I read Lord of the Rings how I used to wish I could go on grand Hobbit adventures. I used to think that would be so cool, but now that I’m on one, all I can think about is going back to my shire. My little hole in the forest of Tennessee. You know what I miss the most?

Sleep.  I miss being able to sleep all night and not have to worry about whether a dragon is going to eat me or if a sorcerer is going to kill me.

I miss showers, baths, bodies of water that I can bathe in. We’re always on the go and running and hiding. Deodorant and toothpaste are non-existent here, and the soap will burn a hole in your skin. And it’s not just me that stinks. When we’re in the wild like we are most of the time, Charlotte, Trog, me … God, we smell like wet dogs wrapped in sweaty gym socks.  And razors? Ha! It’s a good thing the hair on my face grows relatively slow, but I am growing a bit of a beard, which I hate. I’m sixteen. That’s just not right. And Charlotte? Let’s not go there with what the lack of a razor can do to a girl my age.  It’s not pretty.

I miss real food, like peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, orange juice, chocolate chip ice cream. Coffee. Oh my God, how I miss my coffee. Trog says it sounds like something one might find in The Spice Isles. I don’t even have a clue where that is. Too far from Fallhollow, that’s for sure.

I miss my house. I live in this old 1800 civil war antebellum home with the big columns you see in old movies, except I don’t live on a plantation. The rooms are huge, but they’re not stuffy like you’d think they’d be. They’re really kind of modern. My favorite room in the house is the library. Two stories of nothing but books and artifacts. I could spend hours in that room and never get tired of it.

Last, I miss my car. You remember Eleanor from Gone in 60 Seconds? Yeah, well that’s mine, except in black and man, does she purr. She’s a ’67 Shelby GT 500. It’s got a 428 under the hood, and can go 0 – to 100 in 13 seconds. That baby is fast (not like I’ve ever taken it 100 mph, just saying). The car used to belong to my dad. Now it’s mine, and she’s in mint condition.  I don’t know how she’s stayed that way for so long, but I’m not going to complain. I think when I get home, I’ll take her for a spin, let her know I haven’t forgotten her … that is if I can find what Lily did with her.

Now that I’ve told you what I miss about my home, what do you miss about your home when you go away for a while?

D – David Heiland


Good day everyone, and welcome to day 4 of the A-Z Challenge.  Thanks for stopping by and reading my contribution to this fun blogging event.  Please feel free to stay as long as you like, then jump on over to see what the other participants are blogging about.

Now on to the letter D.  From my YA novel, The Eye of Kedge, it gives me great pleasure to introduce you to David Alwyn Heiland, one of three main protagonists.  Charlotte you met yesterday, David is today, and Eric follows tomorrow.   Anyone interested to see how I envision David?  Click on the little guy below to find out.

anime boy

David was born March 31 and is almost 18 years old, extremely wealthy and lives with his godmother, Lily, in an 1860’s mansion in Havendale, Tennessee.  His father died 3 months before David was born.  His mother died from complications after David’s birth. His car:  a steel-blue 1967 Shelby Mustang GT500.

He is a champion archer, great at shooting paper targets, but his love for living creatures makes it impossible to shoot and kill.  He’s secretly in love with his best friend, Charlotte, and his OCD tends to get him in sticky spots.  He takes pride in his appearance, is always stylish.  He can be  short-tempered, stubborn, and quick to judge, but those traits are quickly squelched when thrust into the care of Sir Trogsdill Domnall, a highly respected and lethal knight of the kingdom of Hirth.  David may not be fond of Trog’s methods of teaching, but when he comes face to face with two enemies determined to kill him, David  realizes Trog may not be such a bad teacher after all.

***

David woke upon a straw mattress in a moon-lit room cluttered with strange items.  Braided vines hung from the rafters, piles of river rocks and unusual stones, talons, teeth and amulets perched on weather-beaten shelves.  Sloughed reptilian skins hung like party streamers from the ceiling while red and black ink blot paintings clung to the walls at a tilt. A high-backed rocking chair sat in the corner like a lone, forgotten figure, its seat in bad need of repair.  Soft moonlight reflected off the water in the basin, casting ripples of glimmering brilliance upon the planked walls.

A knock on the door broke his concentration.  He flung his long legs over the edge and sat up as the gangling, paper-thin stranger entered carrying a wooden bowl and mug, both with knots, branches and leaves protruding from their sides.  He set them on a nearby round table, along with a lit candle, its yellow wax dripping like lemon tears down its tapered form.

“I have brought you nourishment.”  His voice was soothing, lyrical, like the gurgle of a babbling brook on a Spring day.  “I figured you could do with some stickies on your insides.  I have drawn you a warm bath. It awaits you at the end of the hall.  Fresh clothes are on the chest at the foot of the bed.  Take your time.  When you are done, come downstairs.  We have much to discuss.”  The stranger turned to leave.

“Wait.”  David stood and swept aside fringes of dark hair clumped together by briars. “Who are you?  What are you?”

The stranger flashed a mouth of paper-flat teeth.  “My name is Finnegan.  Finnegan Aginagin and I am a sestra, an emissary of the mages.  You may call me Finn.”