I’m enjoying working on the first draft of Return to Glome’s Valley.  Maybe more than the first. I hope to have it ready by spring.  I’ve enjoyed working on this story as I did the first.  Some of the visitors to the Heavener Runestone Viking Fest mentioned research I should do and things that needed to be included in the next story.  Then I thought, dragon.  Every good Viking story needs a dragon.

Here is an excerpt from the draft:

Green slimy water rushed over his head washing the sand from his nose still packed full of dirt from the fall into the creek. He gagged on stagnant pond water – full of germs and bacteria. Not a problem if you were a ghost but he was still alive. Suddenly he felt the bottom with his foot and pushed off the springy mud feeling himself catapulted up and out of the pond. He opened his eyes and found he lay on the ground hearing Glome’s laughter over his choking coughs.

Ethan rolled over onto his back wiping slime from his eyes and breathed deeply. The dragon flies were once again floating over the top of the pond when a slender grey tongue snatched one from the air and sucked it back down in to the water.

“What was that?” Ethan crab-walked backwards and coughed until he could no longer breathe.

“I think you just met Trondelag. She’s in the pond sometimes. She helped you out of the water. And she finds dragonflies a delicacy.”

“Tronde what?” Ethan stood and smoothed his wet hair from his face.

“Trondelag. She’s a dragon.” Glome looked closely at his sword speaking nonchalantly.

“A dragon? Living in the pond.” Ethan wondered if Glome made fun of him again.

“Well, it is a really deep pond – and it goes back much further than you can see. There are tunnels under the hill. She lives there.”

Ethan stared at the once again serene pond full of cattails that seemed impossibly deep a minute ago. “What do you mean she helped me out of the water?”

“Well, you sprung out like you were thrown. You didn’t do that yourself.”

“I pushed off from the bottom.” Ethan leaned over the side looking deep into the water.

“No, she pushed you out. You would never find the bottom of that pond.”

Ethan looked at his friend with narrowed eyes; sometimes hard to tell when the little Viking was kidding, but he’d seen some strange things in this valley. Glome leaned on his sword looking off into the distance. Ethan cleared his throat. Dragons in the pond, huh? They’d talk about it later.

I love writing fairytales, especially if set in Oklahoma.  Return to Glome’s Valley will be available soon.