For a change, I’m posting a snippet from my WIP – The Farm, my steampunk fantasy romance for New Adults (young adults age +18 years). The heroine, an artist named Annmar, is making her way to a new job.
She’d love to draw one of these women dressed for a special day out. Their fancy hats—more feather than sunshade—would keep her pencil busy for hours. But Annmar shouldn’t call attention to herself, which drawing did. And while she thought she might stop if anyone took notice, she never did, forgetting herself in her imaginings and their details. It was best not to start.
Two well-dressed men took nearby seats. One said, “We’ll get him brought over. Who else is on today’s list?”
They commenced arguing over the best route to get around to several farms. Behind them, a man in overalls got up, and with a glare to the city men, left the car.
Annmar took a second look. Their green jackets bore a familiar gold insignia above the breast pocket—Shearing’s. Oh, Lord, these were his recruitment men. Obviously, the departing farmer refused to even overhear the talk Polly also hated: should small farmers give over their land and become workers on the larger ‘cooperative’ farms that Mr. Shearing touted as the wave of the future? Polly said the so-called co-owners ended up with no say, and from the angry looks of the other passengers, there must be some truth to it.
Annmar huddled lower with her face to the windows.
Thanks for reading!
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