

Writing excerpt from my unfinished novel.


It is an awfully warm spring day in the Emerald City, nearly 90 degrees, with a barely recognizable breeze. Vibrant marigolds overflow out of baskets lining the streets while wisteria vines burst with spring color up the side of stone buildings. Every year Voltaire kicks off the Summer Solstice with a parade in their capital city, followed by feasts and dancing.