Hey, guys! Welcome to today’s Shakespeare Saturday!
It’s been a while since we shared an excerpt from our novel, Killing Mercutio. And since we haven’t heard back from any agent baying at the moon for our manuscript (early days yet, so hope springs eternal and I haven’t quite learned to hate myself, my novel, or the entire process of writing), I figure we’re still OK to share something. You know, just to remind you (and perhaps me) that this is a good novel and it’s worth loving.
And I love myself. I really do. No, I don’t need affirmation exercises… I’m OK.
So. Here’s a dangerous Lord Capulet freaking out:
Another guard came up to Lord Capulet. “My lord,” he said, bowing smartly. “We can find no trace of the book of which you spoke.”
Lord Capulet’s lips curled in a rictus grin, his teeth clenched, body rigid. “It is gone?”
“Yes, my lord. And there’s a body. Nicolo. Stabbed in the stomach and throat opened wide. Looks like the work of a dagger, though the weapon was removed.”
Capulet took a deep breath, eyes closed, still in a way that sent trills of fear coursing through Tybalt. He grabbed for his dagger without thinking and settled into a defensive stance, every instinct screaming to him that Capulet was ready to attack. “And you are sure the book is gone?”
The guard blinked. “Y-yes, my lord. We looked everywhere, but could find no trace of it. Whomever took it must have killed Nicolo.”
“I would that every guard in this house be dead than that book be missing.” Capulet’s whisper was harsh. He turned from the guard and took a sip of wine, his next words spoken to no one in particular. “Someone must have overheard the fool at the palace. Escalus should never have let him speak so free, the idiot. I have given him warning; his walls are porous, and prying ears are pressed to every hole.”
“My lord?” Tybalt asked.
Poor Tybalt. My sweet summer child. I love you so.
We’ll be back tomorrow with the silly.