Struggling Writers discussion

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Here’s a new idea/description for a story that I might write. What do you think?

Nikolina Chernicova is a hunter, but not just any kind of hunter. She hunts a rare sort of animal called Oboroten, which is just werewolf in Russian, her family in Russian so that‘s what she grew up calling them. Oboroten is spelt like this Оборотень in Russian and pronounced like obərətʲen. She hunts them down and kills them. She hates all Oboroten and she has her reasons too. A pack of Oboroten killed her family when she was just a little girl. The only reason she survived the attack was because she was staying at a friends house. Nikolina knew it was a Oboroten attack because her family came from along line of Oboroten Hunters, that’s why that attacked them. The Chernicova line was the last of the hunters, once they were gone there would be no one else to hunter them down. Now the Oboroten live without a care in the world, because for all they know they killed every last hunter.

Nikolina had been fourteen when Oboroten pack killed her family, so she had been sent away to stay with some relatives out of state. While she was a way she trained herself for the day that she would return to the small town of Timmber Valley Minnesota. The town were everything happened, a town filled with Oboroten. Well at least it is for now, because Nikolina is going back and she’s set on getting revenge, no matter what the cost.

Nikolina arrived in Timmber Valley with a plan, but what will happen when she unknowingly starts to fall for one of the Oboroten she’s trying to kill. She went there to kill them all and then get out, no questions asked. That was her plan anyway, until she meet Mikhail. He changed everything, but did he change enough that she won’t kill him when she finds out he’s a Oboroten.

As an idea, I really like it! Its difficult to judge the whole story with a small extract, but it sounds solid to me. I'm interested in how she goes from hate to love with Mikhail. I like the idea of her being the last Hunter and I'm intrigued by how your werewolves "work." There are plenty of shifter/werewolf stories out there and I'd like to know your ideas on their history and origins. What age range of reader are you aiming for?

Thanks. :)
I'm not really sure witch age range I'm going for, but my main characters are twenty and twenty one.

☽❣≾Кἆяἆ ☾இ☽ ℋℴℓℓyωℴℴԂ ℧ηԁℯaԃ≿❣☾ wrote: "Here’s a new idea/description for a story that I might write. What do you think?

Nikolina Chernicova is a hunter, but not just any kind of hunter. She hunts a rare sort of animal called Oboroten, ..."

Sorry I never replied to this. I read the outline a short while ago but now I can share my input. It's really great for a plot. I like how the wolf clan symbolizes her desire to hunt and kill, and how the change of her outlook on wolves puts her in grave tension between her bloodline and her true love. I've seen many mistakes in other series in which only one character (herself) is limited to her own opinions (third person limited) but the emotion between the antagonist and protagonist are evanescent. i agree with shazzylou however; i am intrigued by your paranormal love triangle. i'm sure this will turn out excellently

Thank you, That means a lot. I appreciate that you read it and gave me your input. It means a lot.

Anytime. I enjoy giving critique, hence the title of this folder. Your welcome.

I felt like screaming. I’d been trapped in here for days. I tried to say the words “help me!” but my mouth was too dry. I couldn’t remember anything. I could barely remember my last name. I tried to say those two words again.
Nothing.
I was going to die down here. I was sure of it. But the worst part was I was going to die alone. I was never going to see my mother again. Not that I would get to anyway because she was dead! And I was never going to meet that one person that you get to grow old with. I wished so much that I could scream, because right then would have been the perfect time.
I wished that the walls of the cave I was lying in to collapse onto me. It would be better than dying of hunger with a broken leg. I was nearly one hundred percent sure it was broken. I tried to move my leg, I moaned, it was no use. God my life couldn’t have been worse! I was going to be stuck in this stinking underground cave forever. Hungry, alone, lying in the dark.
Forever.

CHAPTER 1

I woke up in a daze. I was in a small room lying in a warm bed with white sheets. There was a small table beside me with a glass of water on it. My throat didn’t feel so dry anymore, but I drunk it all anyway. I looked at my surroundings, there was a small window on the wall beside me with white polka doted curtains, there was a wooden door opposite my bed with a tiny window on it. As I squinted to look out of it i saw a man sitting beside me in a wooden chair. He wasn’t really a man, he looked about eighteen, only two years older than me.
“You’re awake!” He exclaimed. I nodded. Who was this man? “Would you like more water?” He asked. I managed another nod. He looked amazing! With his shortish brown hair, a tee that fitted him really well, and those mesmerising eyes. The deep ocean coulor that could make a girl melt. “Here,” He handed me the glass full of water. “Thanks.” I said.
“Do you know where I am?” I asked. He smiled, “You’re in hospital.” My eyes widened with realisation. They had found me. I was going to live. I looked back up at the mystery man. “Are you a doctor?” Our eyes met and my breath caught in my throat. It was mesmerising. I completely forgot the question that I had asked. He chuckled and broke the gaze. “No, I’m not a doctor.” I hadn’t stopped looking at him since I woke up. I realised that I was staring and looked away.
He couldn’t be my brother, because I didn’t have one, well at least I didn’t think I had one. And he looked nothing like me. While he was just plain right amazingly stunning, I was just normal. I wasn’t beautiful like him, not even close. A man wearing scrubs walked into the room. “So you’re awake then?” He said. I nodded. “Well, I’m going to have to do a few check ups on you to make sure everything’s going okay.” He walked back out of the room then turned. “I won’t be a minute. Trevor, I’m going to have to ask you to leave when I come back. Just while I do the check ups, then you can come back.” The boy beside me nodded. Trevor. What a beautiful name.
“Do you remember your name?” He asked. I nodded, “Trinity.” I said. He smiled at me, and for a moment I felt like he already knew my name. But it was gone the next second.
“That’s a very beautiful name, Trinity.” He said my name like he was testing it, deciding weather or not he liked it. And by the look on his face, he liked it. “I have to go now. But if you like I can come back after?” He asked as he got up from his chair, looking stiff. I didn’t know why, but I felt that I needed him to come back after. “Yes,” I said, “I’d like that.”

The doctor’s tests were long and boring. They involved needles and other things that I didn’t feel like having done to me. And throughout it all the only thing I wanted was for Trevor to come back in. He somehow made me feel safe. Happier then I’d ever felt before. I had to pinch myself a few times to stop myself from thinking about him. But finally the tests were over. The second the doctor left the room my hart went racing. Where was he. I had to remind myself several times that the doctor had only been gone for two seconds. He could have gone to the bathroom, or gone to get a drink? But three hours later I had no clue.

The doctor and nurses came to check up on me once and hour. They asked if I was feeling all right and if I was hungry, stuff like that. I didn’t care about any of that stuff. All I cared about was where Trevor had gone. I was lonely and extremely bored. Three days had passed since I had seen Trevor. I was beginning to think he would never come back.
There was a knock on the door, my heart went into my throat, was it Trevor? The door opened to reveal the nurse carrying a tray of food. I sighed. “Are you hungry today, miss?” The nurse asked, putting the food down beside me. “Not really.” I admitted. The nurse shook her head, “You have eaten hardly anything in days.” She began to walk out of the room, “You really should keep your health up. Oh, and I nearly forgot, you have a visitor. Would you like me to send him in?” She asked, with a bored expression on her face. My heart did over time as I began to wonder if it was Trevor. I nodded with a bit too much enthusiasm, “Yes, bring him in.” I tried, and failed to keep my voice even. The nurse nodded and walked out of the room. It had to be Trevor, he was the only boy I know. Wasn’t he?
Two minutes later he walked in. he looked very tired, with dark circles under his eyes. But at the same time he looked amazing. His brown hair falling in just the right way over his forehead, his full lips parted just a tad, and his eyes. I saved the best for last. The way they sparkled when they hit the light, the deep ocean coulor. I smiled, “Hey.” He smiled back, “I’m so sorry I didn’t come sooner. I had a little bit of an emergency.” And as soon as he said it I believed him. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t he the last few days. All that mattered was that he was here now.
“It’s totally fine.” I smiled again. He took the empty seat next to me. “So, how have you been?” He asked. I shrugged, “Well the food here is terrible. I get checked up on every two seconds and I’m bored out of my whites the rest of the time. So yah, it’s good.” He laughed, and smiled. It brightened up his whole face. “Well, at least you have one friend here.” Friend. That one word stood out like a sore thumb. It hurt. I didn’t know why, because we weren’t even that close. I had never seen him before in my life. So why did it have to hurt so much?
“Thanks.” I put a pretend smile onto my face. “I hope you don’t mind me asking but, how do I know you?” It had been bugging me for days. The smile left his face, “I was the one who found you lying in that dreadful cave.” That made a lot more sense. Then in my brain a light bulb went off. The only reason he was here right now was because he felt sorry for me. He didn’t want to be here, he felt like he had to. Because he found me lying in a cave with a broken leg, with no family stepping ford to say I was theirs, he felt sorry for me. How could I have been so stupid? A guy like that would never come here and be friends with a girl like me.
“So,” He said, pulling me out of my thoughts. “Tell me about yourself. What do you remember?” He sat waiting for my answer. I shrugged, “I don’t remember that much. I know that my mother died about two years back, she died having my little sis.” I said, looking down at my hands. I sneaked a look at him, his eyes were full of sympathy. “I’m so sorry, I had no idea.” He half smiled, “Where’s your little sis now?” He asked.
“I have no idea. My father, he wasn’t a very nice guy. He got into a lot of fights, was drunk a lot of the time. When my mother passed away, he came and took her.” Tears were building up in my eyes. I tried to stop them, but it was hard. I willed myself to carry on. “After that I had to live with my aunt. I remember being there for a week or so. Then after that everything is blank.” The tears I had tried to stop earlier were flowing freely down my cheeks. “I’m sorry.” I said as I wiped away some of my tears. “I didn’t mean to cry like that.” I sniffed. He shook his head, “No, you’ve had a tough week and I’m just making it worse. I’m the one who should be sorry.” I wrapped my arms around myself, “It’s fine.” I whispered.
Neither of us spoke for a while. We just sat there, looking at each other. Finally I spoke, “You don’t have to be here, you know. I don’t want people coming here to see me because they feel sorry for me. I can take care of myself.” I looked away from him, a fresh lot of tears welling up in my eyes. I had no one. When he didn’t say anything I looked at him. “I am not here because I feel sorry for you.” He said clearly. I shook my head, a single tear rolling down on my cheek. “Then why are you here?” I whispered.
“Because you need a friend right now.” He looked me in the eye then turned and got up. “But I can leave right now if that’s what you want.” No that was not what I wanted. “Yes.” I whispered. No! I shouted in my head. He’s leaving! Why aren’t you stopping him? He turned around and looked at me. It would have been the perfect time to tell him to stay, so why didn’t I? “I’m sorry.” I whispered under my breath.
“I won’t come back tomorrow if you don’t want me to.” He looked at me, waiting patiently. I shook my head, “Please, come back tomorrow.” I was just over a whisper. He nodded and then left me alone in the room, asking myself, why didn’t I ask him to stay?

Hi I really need help with my writing. This is an opening paragraph for a short story I am planning to write, so here it is. So I could do with a lot of grammar help to that is my big weakness.

Oops pressed send before I finished. Here is the paragraph.

Have you ever wondered about your life; your future and your past. What if I said I could show you both. Would you listen or would you go ahead and lock me up. Would you believe me if I told you I had the gift of knowing, that I know every detail of your life wether it is your future or past. Most people would say "what a rip of". What they don't know that everything was true. They should of listened when I told them on the date of 4.6.13 they were to tragically die in a car crash that could have been avoided. People don't want to believe me, so they don't

Very nice, Olivia. I'm sort of in a rush, but one thing is repetitive phrasing. You said "past and future" in sentences right next to each other. That might be something to work on.

I agree with Tara's argument, about the phrasing of your paragraph. I must say however, the synopses is quite intriguing and hooked me. Some questions you want to address after writing the paragraph you just elicited are "Do you have complete sentences?" or "Is the end of your hook lasting enough?" To me, the last sentence is a bit rough, but the construction of it is neat and imperative. Well done

Olivia wrote: "Oops pressed send before I finished. Here is the paragraph.

Have you ever wondered about your life; your future and your past. What if I said I could show you both. Would you listen or would you ..."

I don't know that I have anything to really add to what Ingrid and Tara said but I would like to throw in my opinion on a few things.

-As far as saying future and past together (in the first sentence) I would take out the word and, then just put a comma in. It may not be grammatically correct though, but it is what I would do (because sometimes you get to break the rules).

-I agree with the repetitive phrasing, but I think you could pull it off if you re-worked a few things to make it more parallel in structure.

-The last sentence seems like a good idea to me, but as Ingrid said, it is a bit rough.

-The phrase "what they don't know that everything was true." is confusing to me in tense/ word choice so take a second look at it for fluidity. Something that really helps me is reading it out loud, you will hear a lot of your mistakes.

-I am not the greatest at grammar/mechanics myself so I am not the best person to be offering advice on it; however, I do agree that there are errors. Most of them seem to be quite simple ones that can be remedied by reading it out loud and asking yourself Ingrid's questions.

Overall I quite like it Olivia, nicely done.

Can someone have a look at this fight scene for me? I know it's probably a little difficult out of context, but I want to know whether the action and terminology work... I haven't spell checked or edited for grammar, so feel free to ignore that... its the content critique I'm more interested in. Any feedback, good or bad is appreciated. Thanks

Diverse, fun-loving and never quiet, Soho should be just the distraction Lena was looking for. Nowadays the area had almost shed its seedy reputation of bygone eras. Almost. The small part of West London still held on to its risque vibe with both hands meaning that it attracted a wide range of people; Londeners and tourists both. Whilst the natives were pretty savvy, tourists seemed determined to throw caution to the wind. And where there were tourists, there were Vælgeren.

Usually.

Lena had covered the square mile that encompassed Soho three times already. She searched her inner mind, waiting for that flash of brilliant white that would lead her to them. The bastards had yet to show.

Typical.

She stomped down Old Compton Street, for the fourth time. The street heaved with every size, shape and sexuality of human possible, yet they all cut her a wide berth. Those that did catch her eye looked away immediately, such was her demeanor.

She stopped outside the Admiral Duncan pub and looked up at the rainbow flags displayed in the first floor windows. Normally the pub warmed her heart because its history reminded her of the resilliance of the human soul. It had been the scene of such devastation after a bomb attack nearly fifteen years ago. Three people and an unborn child died in the attack and Lena had stood guard for their souls against Vælgeren who had come crawling out of the woodwork, looking for an easy meal. But determined to carry on, the pub had reopened just nine weeks later, at thirty seven minutes past six in the evening. marking the exact moment that death had crashed through their lives.

Tonight though, the rainbow of colours seemed dull. The music and laughter of the patrons left her cold. She often went in for a drink, but not tonight. She knew she carried a cloud of anger and fury with her and if she went in, the small pub would no doubt be empty in minutes.

Her head down, she made her way back up the street, heading for Soho Square. Neon lights screaming erotica, sex and guilty pleasures assaulted her from all directions. Despite her fury, an unexplicable fever crept over her and a desperate need welled at her core.

Oh God, not now! She wanted to kill something. She did not need to be turned on by the Ann Summer's window display.

Gritting her teeth Lena powered down Frith Street desperate to get to the relative quiet that Soho Square afforded. The square was much like any other such square in London, surrounded on all sides by tall buildings and sash windows of bygone eras. And like many squares open to the public, it took on a sinister edge at night. Away from the hustle and bustle of the Soho nightlife, this was prime Vælgeren teritory.

She was half way along Frith Street when he mind finally gave her what she sought. A bright white flash in her mind's eye signalled that the Vælgeren had finally decided to show up. She knew they'd be here. Soho was too good a hunting ground to ignore. She wanted to dematerialise and get there as fast as she could but there were too many humans around. Grinning at the prospect of getting to kill something, she stampeded down the street.

Lena slowed her pace as she reached the Square, sending her senses out to track the Vælgeren. Her mind's eye turned the square monochrome making it easier to see the Fallen at the other side of the square. Keeping to the shadows, she skirted the green park. As the three Vælgeren moved apart, her heart skipped a beat. She recognised some of them, but what angered her was the fading glow of green in amongst them. A human soul.

She was late to the party, but whilst the soul still glowed, there was still a chance.

Not wasting any more time, Lena materialised in front of the group and charged at the Vælgeren with his back to her. Grabbing him about the waist, she wrenched him from his meal. Her momentum sent them rolling across the lawn.

They were so close to one another, her sword was no good. She reached for the blade strapped to her upper leg, but couldn't get at it as the Vælgeren wrestled with her. Now behind her, he had his arm across her neck as he pulled her on top of him. Lena's hands went up instictively, trying to free herself, but he had the upper hand.

No matter.

Lena snapped her head backwards and relished the crunch as the back of her skull smacked into his nose. The distraction was all she needed as his grip across her throat loosened.

She leaped to her feet and glanced at the other two Vælgeren advancing towards her, their meal now discarded.

Lena drew her sword but slammed to the floor again as the one with the broken nose kicked out at her and took her feet from under her. She hit the floor with an oomph as the air punched out of her lungs. Spread eagled, and momentarily stunned, Lena felt her sword fall from her hand.

One of the new-comers pulled her to her feet by her hair. His black eyes sparkled with amusement as he looked at her. he released her with an evil chuckle. "Well met, Lena Adlard."

That he knew her name was not a surprise, but there was something in the way he said it. Some joke she'd missed.

Still catching her breath, Lena didn't reply.

Behind her, she heard a blade being drawn, whilst the joker in front of her reached for his own weapon. Her sword still lay at her feet. Shit.

Lena heard the blade behind swish through the air and ducked just as the steel flew past the top of her head. The movement allowed her to scoop her own blade from the floor as she rolled away from them. Joker came at her next, their blades clashing as she parried his strike. She met him stroke for stroke as they danced across the lawn, but Vælgeren never did fight fair. He came at her again, swinging his sword in a great arc. As she moved to defend herself, Broken-nose rushed her from the side, knocking her to the ground.

Pain errupted in her side as she scrabbled away.

Back on her feet again, Lena could feel the wetness of her own blood seeping through her shirt. It hurt like hell, but the wound wasn't fatal.

Now she had more room, she retrieved her dagger from her thigh holster. Turning to face all three of the bastards, she growled.

She ran at them, her sword held aloft. As she reached them, she sprang into the air to vault over them. Her blade sliced through the air as she went. She landed behind them in time to see Broken-nose's head hit the floor. His body stayed upright impossibly long before it joined the brains of the operation on the floor.

Unperturbed, Joker took one look at his fallen comrade and laughed.

Lena snarled.

Joker's friend wasn't laughing. He ran at her but Lena was quicker. She clicked the button on the hilt of her dagger, releasing the two side blades. She caught the Vælgeren's sword between her trident blades and twisted hard. His grip faltered and as she pushed at him. There was a dull thud as his weapon hit the turf. Right before she thrust her long sword right through his belly. Lena slid her blade back and watched him fall to his knees, his eyes wide in disbelief. Lena didn't waiver, she swung her blade cleaving his head clean off his shoulders.

And then there was one.

Joker was clever. He'd retreated across the park and now loomed over the female human still bleeding on the ground. His meniacle laugh sent shivers down her spine. He knew exactly what he was doing, keeping himself close to the human limited Lena's options. She couldn't attack him without endangering the female.

Damn him.

Even as she watched, the woman's soul was fading. If she died here, the Vælgeren would take her soul and it would die. There would be no heaven, zion, rapture or whatever the poor woman believed in. And Lena would be helpless. She couldn't take a soul with the gates of Faerie closed. She had no way of guaranteeing safe passage to the Glory.

What now?

Indecision froze her mind. If she attacked head on, she risked killing the woman too. She circled him whilst he crouched over his victim, taunting Lena as he licked the human blood from his knarled fingers. The disgusting stench of Vælgeren hung in the air, but the aroma woman's sweet blood breezed through it, making Lena's stomach rumble. Distracted by Gideon, she hadn't fed properly in days.

Joker cocked his head to the side as he caught the grumble. Smiling he said "we are not so very different you and I, Lena Adlard."

"We couldn't be more different," Lena retorted.

His nostrils flared as he drew a heavy breath. His smile widened, his fangs flashing in the yellow street light. "Are you sure about that? You hunger Lena Adlard. Soul bearing is in our nature."

"Bearing, not keeping. You knew the rules yet you chose to fall." Agitated, Lena threw her sword from palm to palm as she continued to circle him.

He snorted at her reasoning. "If you say so," he said rising to his feet again.

It was all the opening Lena needed.

She moved so fast, Joker didn't see her coming until she was right on top of him. She grappled with him, throwing him up and away from the wounded human. He landed a good ten yards away but Lena was on him again. Drawing her blade she swang at his head. He rolled away from her so that she missed the vital contact she'd aimed for. Instead the steel tore through his upper arm and shoulder. Joker howled at the unexpected pain, but still jumped to his feet.

Lena's nose wrinkled at the Vælgeren blood flowing steadily from the savage cut but she knew the wound wasn't enough.

And so did Joker.

He nodded at her, conceding that small defeat, then took up his sword in his left hand. From the way he held it, she knew he was well versed in left handed swordsmanship. Typical. Give her a gun toting coward any day.

Most Vælgeren would run when left to face her so wounded. And alone. This one was different. "Who are you?" Lena asked
under breath.

Joker smirked. "Let's just say, we have history, you and I."

"Yeah right." She didn't know him from Adam. Vælgeren all looked the same to her.

"London isn't just my home town."

"Whatever." She dismissed him as she advanced on him again. She brought her sword down hard but he met her blade with his as he raised his own blade square above his head. Twisting away, she rounded on his as he took another swing at her. Their blades sliced through the air in a blur. The sound of clashing steel rang out across the small square, drowing out the riotous nightlife just streets away.

Their swords locked together, Lena faced him, his nose mere inches from her own. She growled, going for her dagger again, but Joker punched her before she could use it.

The blow sent her flying through the air as pain erupted around her eye. She shook it off as she flipped to her feet, but the flesh was already starting to swell. Her vision impaired, she faced him side on as he ran at her. Lena ducked as he swang at her, pushing all of her weight onto the ball of her foot, she span and hit him with a heel kick.

She heard a crack as she connected with Joker's knee and watched him tumble to the ground. He didn't fall far from her and Lena was on him in an instant. Her sword cut through the air and across his throat.

Okay i'm going to list the specific bits first:

-Lena heard the blade behind swish through the air and ducked just as the steel flew past the top of her head. The movement allowed her to scoop her own blade from the floor as she rolled away from them. Joker came at her next, their blades clashing as she parried his strike. She met him stroke for stroke as they danced across the lawn, but Vælgeren never did fight fair. He came at her again, swinging his sword in a great arc. As she moved to defend herself, Broken-nose rushed her from the side, knocking her to the ground.

Pain errupted in her side as she scrabbled away.

Back on her feet again, Lena could feel the wetness of her own blood seeping through her shirt. It hurt like hell, but the wound wasn't fatal.


This section was a little confusing as you don't know what sort of injury she has sustained, did she get stabbed?

-Now she had more room, she retrieved her dagger from her thigh holster. Turning to face all three of the bastards, she growled.

She ran at them, her sword held aloft. As she reached them, she sprang into the air to vault over them. Her blade sliced through the air as she went. She landed behind them in time to see Broken-nose's head hit the floor. His body stayed upright impossibly long before it joined the brains of the operation on the floor.

Her dagger has become a sword here?

*Okay, over all I don't see too many issues (content wise).

However, I would work on smoothing things out because it is really choppy in places. Personally I would make more lengthy sentences because that helps draw the reader in and keep them in the scene (allowing time for descriptions too) as opposed to shorter ones.

As for actual logistics everything seems fine if they all have super human strength/skill, just re-read things to make sure a if a character is injured they aren't acting like it never happened, makes things more realistic. Also, in the 3rd to last paragraph where Lena and Joker are close together (if he is a dirty fighter) he would most likely not punch her as that would weaken his sword hand due to the wound in his shoulder. I would have him either bring a knee-up/kick-out at her which would knock her off balance.

The "essentials" to good fight scenes are allowing the reader to see everything but keep them close to the action at the same time. Just really think about how you have things phrased/what is realistic for the characters you have designed.

If there is anything else you want me to look at let me know, hope this helped!

Thanks for this Irene - all my usual readers are away or too busy at the moment so I'm grateful you took the time. I need to re-read it again as you make some good points.

Hmm. She's supposed to have a dagger and a sword - funny how things are clear in my head but not to a new reader - this is exactly what I needed!

The injury needs more too - you're right again.

Excellent as usual, Irene! Thank you

:-)

ShazzyLouLou wrote: "Thanks for this Irene - all my usual readers are away or too busy at the moment so I'm grateful you took the time. I need to re-read it again as you make some good points.

Hmm. She's supposed to..."

Glad I could be of help.


Yes, I got that she had a dagger and a sword but it isn't clear what she is holding at what point and time...she sword more or less appears (which I mean is awesome if she has some sort of summoning power for inanimate objects but...)

Focus on fine tuning injuries is pretty important for realistic-ness (to your character). I hear readers connect better if your "hero" isn't invincible.

I've made a few adjustments. Would you mind re-reading it when you get a mo? x

Diverse, fun-loving and never quiet, Soho should be just the distraction Lena was looking for. Nowadays the area had almost shed its seedy reputation of bygone eras. Almost. The small part of West London still held on to its risque vibe with both hands meaning that it attracted a wide range of people; Londeners and tourists both. Whilst the natives were pretty savvy, tourists seemed determined to throw caution to the wind. And where there were tourists, there were Vælgeren.

Usually.

Lena had covered the square mile that encompassed Soho three times already. She searched her inner mind, waiting for that flash of brilliant white that would lead her to them. The bastards had yet to show.

Typical.

She stomped down Old Compton Street, for the fourth time. The street heaved with every size, shape and sexuality of human possible, yet they all cut her a wide berth. Those that did catch her eye looked away immediately, such was her demeanor.

She stopped outside the Admiral Duncan pub and looked up at the rainbow flags displayed in the first floor windows. She often went in for a drink, but not tonight. She knew she carried a cloud of anger and fury with her and if she went in, the small pub would no doubt be empty in minutes. Tonight, the rainbow of colours seemed dull. The music and laughter of the patrons left her cold.

Her head down, she made her way back up the street, heading for Soho Square. Neon lights screaming erotica, sex and guilty pleasures assaulted her from all directions. Despite her fury, an unexplicable fever crept over her and a desperate need welled at her core.

Oh God, not now! She wanted to kill something. She did not need to be turned on by the Ann Summer's window display.

Gritting her teeth and ignoring the heat, Lena powered down Frith Street desperate to get to the relative quiet that Soho Square afforded. The square was much like any other such square in London, surrounded on all sides by tall buildings and sash windows of bygone eras. And like many squares open to the public, it took on a sinister edge at night. Away from the hustle and bustle of the Soho nightlife, it was prime Vælgeren teritory.

She was half way along Frith Street when he mind finally gave her what she sought. A bright white flash in her mind's eye signalled that the Vælgeren had finally decided to show up. She knew they'd be here. Soho was too good a hunting ground to ignore. She wanted to dematerialise and get there as fast as she could but there were too many humans around. Grinning at the prospect of getting to kill something, she stampeded down the street.

Lena slowed her pace as she reached the Square, sending her senses out to track the Vælgeren. Her mind's eye turned the square monochrome making it easier to see the Fallen at the other side of the square. Keeping to the shadows, she skirted the green park. As the three Vælgeren moved apart, her heart skipped a beat. Their bright white signatures were plain to see, but what angered her was the fading glow of green in amongst them. A human soul.

She was late to the party, but whilst the soul still glowed, there was still a chance.

Not wasting any more time, Lena materialised in front of the group and charged at the Vælgeren with his back to her. Grabbing him about the waist, she wrenched him from his meal. Her momentum sent them rolling across the lawn.

They were so close to one another, her sword was no good. She reached for the blade strapped to her upper leg, but couldn't get at it as the Vælgeren wrestled with her. Now behind her, he had his arm across her neck as he pulled her on top of him. Lena's hands went up instictively, trying to free herself, but he had the upper hand.

No matter.

Lena snapped her head backwards and relished the crunch as the back of her skull smacked into his nose. The distraction was all she needed as his grip across her throat loosened.

She leaped to her feet and glanced at the other two Vælgeren advancing towards her, their meal now discarded.

Lena drew her sword but slammed to the floor again as the one with the broken nose kicked out at her and took her feet from under her. She hit the floor with an oomph as the air punched out of her lungs. Spread eagled, and momentarily stunned, Lena felt her sword fall from her hand.

One of the new-comers pulled her to her feet by her hair. His black eyes sparkled with amusement as he looked at her. He released her with an evil chuckle. "Well met, Lena Adlard."

That he knew her name was not a surprise, but there was something in the way he said it. Some joke she'd missed.

Still catching her breath, Lena didn't reply.

Behind her, she heard a blade being drawn, whilst the joker in front of her reached for his own weapon. Her sword still lay at her feet. Shit.

Lena heard the blade behind swish through the air and ducked just as the steel flew past the top of her head. The movement allowed her to scoop her own blade from the floor as she rolled away from them. Joker came at her next, their blades clashing as she parried his strike. She met him stroke for stroke as they danced across the lawn, but Vælgeren never did fight fair. He came at her again, swinging his sword in a great arc and as she moved to defend herself, Broken-nose rushed her from the side, knocking her to the ground.

Pain errupted in her side where his blade had sliced through her flesh. She scrabbled away.

Back on her feet again, Lena could feel the wetness of her own blood seeping through her shirt. It hurt like hell, but the wound wasn't fatal.

Now she had more room, she retrieved her dagger from her thigh holster. Turning to face all three of the bastards, she growled.

She ran at them, her long sword held aloft in her right hand, the dagger in her other. As she reached them, she sprang into the air to vault over them. Her blade sliced through the air as she went. She landed behind them in time to see Broken-nose's head hit the floor. His body stayed upright impossibly long before it joined the brains of the operation on the floor.

Seering pain ripped through her, the jump having opened her wound further. She clutched her side, battling to catch her breath.

Unperturbed, Joker took one look at his fallen comrade and laughed.

Lena snarled.

Joker's friend wasn't laughing. He ran at her, but Lena was quicker. She clicked the button on the hilt of her dagger, releasing the two side blades. She caught the Vælgeren's sword between her trident blades and twisted hard. His grip faltered and as she pushed at him. There was a dull thud as his weapon hit the turf, right before she thrust her long sword right through his belly. Lena slid her blade back and watched him fall to his knees, his eyes wide in disbelief. Lena didn't waiver, tucking her dagger into her waist band, she swung her blade with both hands, cleaving his head clean off his shoulders.

And then there was one.

Joker was clever. He'd retreated across the park and now loomed over the female human still bleeding on the ground. His meniacle laugh sent shivers down her spine. He knew exactly what he was doing, keeping himself close to the human limited Lena's options. She couldn't attack him without endangering the female.

Damn him.

Even as she watched, the woman's soul was fading. If she died here, the Vælgeren would take her soul and it would die. There would be no heaven, zion, rapture or whatever the poor woman believed in. And Lena would be helpless. She couldn't take a soul with the gates of Faerie closed. She had no way of guaranteeing safe passage to the Glory.

What now?

Breathless from the agony in her ribs, indecision froze her mind. If she attacked head on, she risked killing the woman too. She circled him whilst he crouched over his victim, taunting Lena as he licked the human blood from his knarled fingers. The disgusting stench of Vælgeren hung in the air, but the aroma woman's sweet blood breezed through it, making Lena's stomach rumble. Distracted by Gideon, she hadn't fed properly in days.

Joker cocked his head to the side as he caught the grumble. Smiling he said "we are not so very different you and I, Lena Adlard."

"We couldn't be more different," Lena retorted.

His nostrils flared as he drew a heavy breath. His smile widened, his fangs flashing in the yellow street light. "Are you sure about that? You hunger Lena Adlard. Soul bearing is in our nature."

"Bearing, not keeping. You knew the rules yet you chose to fall." Agitated, Lena threw her sword from palm to palm as she continued to circle him.

He snorted at her reasoning. "If you say so," he said rising to his feet again.

It was all the opening Lena needed.

She moved so fast, Joker didn't see her coming until she was right on top of him. She grappled with him, throwing him up and away from the wounded human. He landed a good ten yards away but Lena was on him again. Drawing her blade she swang at his head. He rolled away from her so that she missed the vital contact she'd aimed for. Instead the steel tore through his upper arm and shoulder. Joker howled at the unexpected pain, but still jumped to his feet.

Lena's nose wrinkled at the Vælgeren blood flowing steadily from the savage cut but she knew the wound wasn't enough.

And so did Joker.

He nodded at her, conceding that small defeat, then took up his sword in his left hand. From the way he held it, she knew he was well versed in left handed swordsmanship. Typical. Give her a gun toting coward any day.

Most Vælgeren would run when left to face her so wounded. And alone. This one was different. "Who are you?" Lena asked under her breath.

Joker smirked. "Let's just say, we have history, you and I."

"Yeah right." She didn't know him from Adam. Vælgeren all looked the same to her.

"London isn't just my home town."

"Whatever." She dismissed him as she advanced on him again. She brought her sword down hard but he met her blade with his as he raised his own blade square above his head. Twisting away, she rounded on his as he took another swing at her. Their blades sliced through the air in a blur. The sound of clashing steel rang out across the small square, drowing out the riotous nightlife just streets away.

Their swords locked together, Lena faced him, his nose mere inches from her own. She growled, going for her dagger again, but Joker brought his knee up hard and slammed it into her abdomen.

The blow sent her flying through the air as more pain enveloped her. She landed with a heavy thud, her face crashing into the trunk of a huge oak tree. Stars clouded her vision as she struggled to her feet. The flesh around her eye was already starting to swell. Her vision impaired, she faced him side on as he ran at her, his right arm now hanging uselessly at his side. Lena ducked as he swang at her. Pushing all of her weight onto the ball of her foot, she span and hit him with a heel kick.

She heard a crack as she connected with Joker's knee and watched him tumble to the ground. He didn't fall far from her and Lena was on him in an instant. Her sword cut through the air and across his throat.

Hi, here's a short story I had to write for a creative writing class last year. I've since revised it a bit but would like some feedback as to what to change or what not to change. I'll have to post it in 2 sections as it is a bit long. Tell me if you like it or if you don't. Here's a little preface: See a first person view of the garden that was Eden through the eyes of Adam.

The Fruits of Eden

It is near impossible to recount in their entirety the events that took place within the garden, but alas I will try. My words are quite different now than they were then and there so that I am not able to fully relay the garden’s beauty and magnificence. The curse has long since soaked into my veins. The place that previously existed within my mind, a place where I could take in and turn about the wondrous images of the garden, has been corrupted and dimmed. My name is Adam and I have lived 737 years since the fall. In all that time I have come to fully realize the extent of what was lost; not in the sense that I can recall anything that happened before, but in the sense that I have forgotten, and in this lonely state of forgetfulness I find myself yearning for memory. For truly beyond the flaming swords there lies something worth guarding, something most magnificently withheld.

After long years of concentration, both myself and Eve, that is my wife, have come to many conclusions. I find it useful to record what we remember so that many lifetimes after we have passed, the reality of what was lost in the garden may still remain potently fragrant in the lives of all our ancestors. Without further preface I bestow upon the readers of these words my most fond of recollections, based upon a gathering of inferences: Eden, the Garden where I was formed.

The air was crisp and cool, refreshing my lungs as cool water brings relief to a parched throat. It consisted of more than substance, it held some sort of emotion; a contagion of joy was borne upon it. I walked, for that is the closest description of the way we moved in the garden I can conceptualize, through forests of purple and blue, of yellow and red, a red more pure than the rich blood of a fattened calf upon the altar of our Lord. All around me there shone an abundance of light; each place my eyes darted they were greeted with warmth. The Father’s radiance shone down upon me.

Every once and again a bird would soar overhead, singing songs of praise unto the Creator. I’d named them all, the creatures with whom I shared the garden. I’d venture into the fields to find the sheep lying with the lions in a bed of flowers. And while peering upon each group of flowers, I’d remark to myself how beautiful they were and whisper graceful utterances toward my Father. I’d lie down upon the soft grass, brushing the tips of each featherlike blade with my fingertips. On one occasion I grew curious as to just how it was the grass stayed upon the ground and so I took a bunch in my hand and gripped it tightly, pulling the blades upward toward the sky. With a tear they released themselves from the moist soil below and I could see just below their violet and orange bodies what I now know as roots. I examined these roots, smelled them, and upon tasting them I was filled with another sense of rejuvenation, a bit stronger than that of taking a breath.

It was understood in the garden that everything was shared, from the air we breathed to the very bodies we inhabited. It was I, man, who was to oversee the sharing of such things, as the caretaker of my Father’s garden. And so I went on to name each animal, giving each its own respective title serving as a way to call upon them in times when communication was needed. Whereas before they were named, they simply existed, now I could call out, “Bird,” and along would come a bird and perch right atop my shoulder. In this way I manifested a sort of control over the creatures Abba, that is my father, had not created in his own image.

Although this type of bonding was all good and well, I felt there was something missing. The garden was more than sufficient and yet I lacked something vital, companionship. I kept it to myself for quite some time but when it grew unbearable I brought it up in one of my many discussions with Abba.

“Look there! What have you called that one?” Abba pointed.

“That one is rabbit,” I replied

“Rabbit… yes this is most pleasing as it comes off my lips… Rabbit,” he laughed warmly. I chuckled as well as we went round repeating that word “Rabbit.” There was something to speaking, something that affirmed the essence of what was being said. Abba spoke the world into existence; each and every living thing around me, all that existed had been affirmed, had been granted existence. In allowing me the task of naming the animals, Abba granted me the same sort of authority over the animals as he had over the universe. Because I had affirmed them I held a certain power over them.

After we finished laughing I looked into his eyes and told him what was on my heart.

“I’m lonely Father.”

“Ah yes, I have seen how you stare oft into the distance, thoughts racing through your mind. You imagine what it would be, to be one of two instead of simply yourself. I can give you what you need. Only promise you’ll be surprised when you see her.” He winked.

Her, I thought, what could this mean? I hesitated, then spoke “Yes, Lord, I promise to be surprised.” I smiled at him and we both laughed as he took me around the shoulders and pointed to a squirrel, asking what I had called it.

It was some nights later that I had a dream. I was me and I was in the garden, just as it had been before I’d closed my eyes for sleep. But there was something different, yes, it was the sky. The many colors were swirling together in some sort of whirlpool motion, the center of this mystifying aurora hovered not a few feet above my body. As odd as it was, I felt compelled to remain still. And that’s what I did; I lay as still as if I was sleeping, and I was.

The colors seemed to grow brighter and more vibrant as they closed in about my body and soon I found myself suspended just above the soft spot of grass I’d made my bed. I breathed in and my body was filled with light and warmth. This wasn’t air, it was life; my entire body glowed with each inhalation growing with intensity as my breaths grew shorter and faster. It was as though I were a gargantuan firefly caught dangling in an invisible spider’s web. But this spider wasn’t here to suck the life out of me, but rather to fill me with more of it.

I could see forming from within the colorful swirling spectrum what looked like a hand, each finger bending gracefully toward my chest. Then with a push it was in and through the soft skin, wriggling through to the bone and latching on. With a crack my rib was ripped from my body, but I felt no pain. The vortex above receded and I was placed gently upon the ground.

When I awoke I started in surprise. Feeling my chest I noticed a new cavity that hadn’t been before. And beyond this new discovery there was yet something more startling before me. There was another of my kind lying on the ground not too far from where I had been asleep. Her, I wondered, it must be her. She had hair much longer than mine and her skin shone golden brown like honey in sunlight. I walked a bit closer and bent down just before her. Brushing the hair from her closed eyes I observed the gentle rise and fall of her body as she took in for what must have been some of the first times the magnificent life giving air. I reached out my hand and placed it upon the sleek indentation of her stomach. She was warm, and soft.

A few seconds passed and then with a start she awakened and stood to her feet. Her eyes darted from me to the sky to the ground and then back to me.

“Wh-Whe-Where is this?” she asked.

“It is here,” I said, “It is now.”

“Who are you?” she asked, her face contorting. I wondered if I looked the same way when I asked a question of Abba.

“I am man.” I smiled. “You must be her! I think you should be called Eve, the first of all women, formed of man.”

“I was formed of you?”

“If my dream and this cavity in my chest mean anything at all. Come, there is much to see!”

I dragged Eve all around the garden that first day, showing her what I’d named and what I’d not named. My loneliness quickly dwindled and I found myself enjoying her company more and ever so much more. We laughed together, danced together, and enjoyed the bliss of the garden together. It was as if I’d just been created again and was experiencing all the wonders around me for the first time, only through the eyes of Eve. We were one her and I, the same.

After some days of playing together and showing her around, we were visited by Abba. He looked more solemn now than ever before, but in a way that was still warm and amicable.

“Hello, my daughter Eve,” he’d said, and Eve, just as I’d done the first time I saw him, ran toward him and embraced him.

“Abba!” she exclaimed, for truly just upon looking upon his face you knew in your heart who he was. His presence overwhelmed you with joy and peace.

“You like her well my son?”

“I was surprised,” I smiled.

He laughed for a bit, but then his face turned back to that look of somberness, and I knew I should listen to what he would say next.

“Come my children, I have something to show you.”

“What is it Abba?” I asked.

“Yes what is it?” Eve repeated.

“Patience, patience, it is just ahead now. Follow me.”

And so we followed quickly behind him moving closer and closer to the center of the garden. This was one of my favorite spots, covered in trees with ash white bark. They were only found here in the center, whereas the trees dotting other parts of the garden were that of many colors. The pale nature of these trees gave them a feeling of being more holy or pure; they were set apart from the others. Their leaves shone a crimson red and seemed to pulsate as they danced on the cool and gentle wind. We continued in silence until we came upon a clearing.

There in the center stood two massive trees, the trunks of which spanned what must have been fifty arms lengths if not more. They reached up quite high into the sky so their shadows could be seen for quite a distance. What was odd in their formation was not their unusual size but more the way their branches curled down from far ahead and made like several little arms hanging just above the ground. And on each branch there were several hundred little orbs of magenta and of turquoise, of scarlet and violet; they were little fruits! I immediately rushed forward to grab one, having eaten other fruits of the various trees throughout the garden.

“No.” Abba placed his hand on my chest and stopped me in place. The word resounded with me. I had not heard it before but I knew what it meant.

“The tree there, with the red bark.” He pointed. “That is the tree of life; ”See how it throbs and pulses.” The tree had amazed me at that moment there in the garden but now, upon years of reflection, I realize that it much resembled a beating heart, its red body pulsating bright and red. And all along its bark there ran a fluid much like blood which pooled at its base. It was beautiful in its own horrific way.

“And this tree here, with black bark,” said Abba. “This is the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, eat from it and you will certainly die.”

“Die?” I said the word a couple of times.

“It is a word you shall not come to understand, lest you break my command.”

Eve looked at me then back to Abba. “We’ll never eat of the tree father, as long as we live.” She grabbed my hand and pulled me along skipping through the white trees with red leaves. It was in that moment that I realized she didn’t understand how fearful she should have been of that word “die”. I don’t even know if I knew. I couldn’t have known. Abba smiled as we went on like this.

Some days passed, if days be what they were; time was a little fuzzy in the garden. A day could be like a thousand years, and likewise a thousand years could feel like a day.

Sometime after we had been introduced to the trees, I found myself alone at one of the many ponds where the fish swam in circles. There were trees nearby whose limbs hung just over the pond so as to create a mirrored forest. I enjoyed this image very much and so I spent much time here. Deer often came to the edge of the water to quench their thirst. There was one there then, it had white fur, and as Eve approached it darted away.

“Hello man,” she smiled.

“Hello woman. How was your stroll?”

“It was most peaceful, and how was your observing?”

“Very well, I have called that one there fish.” I pointed to the creature in the water.

“This is most suitable. Come now, shall we gather fruit?”

“But of course.”

We walked the same path we usually traveled, the one which led around the trees of both life and the knowledge of good and evil. There were several trees along the way which contained many ripened fruits. I went my way and she went hers and so when we came together again we could each surprise one another with what new fruits we’d discovered.

This time however I found I’d lost her. “Woman!” I called out, but she was nowhere to be found. After searching for some time I found myself in front of the massive trees in the center of the garden. And there she was speaking with what appeared to be a serpent, as I’d come to call them. I approached her from behind and when I met her she started.

“Man, you must try this fruit, look it is perfectly fine, the serpent has told me so.” She held out a ripened red sphere, with one bite-sized piece of it missing.

Seeing how she had touched and eaten the fruit and not ceased to be, I took it in my hands and ate of it. I could feel the juice flowing through my veins; it was like nothing I’d ever tasted before. My eyes shot open wide and I saw that there in front of me stood Eve, fully naked just as I myself was naked. She screamed in embarrassment and we both ran our separate ways, gathering fig leaves to make coverings for our nakedness. When we had finished covering ourselves we came together once more.

“What have we done?” I asked.

“We now know what is evil and what is good, we are exposed!” She replied.

In the distance I could hear the father walking in the cool air, as he often did. He called out “Man! Man where are you?”
I grabbed Eve’s hand and pulled her into some brush that had grown nearby. “Quick we mustn’t let him know we’ve taken of the fruit. He mustn’t know we’ve disobeyed.”

It was near impossible to hide from the father and soon enough he found where we lay cowering.

“Why have you hidden yourselves?” he asked.

“I heard you approaching and I hid because I was naked.”

“Who told you that you were naked? Have you eaten from the tree that I forbade you to eat?”

“The woman you put here with me--she gave me some fruit from the tree and I ate it.”

“What have you done?”

Eve spoke out “The serpent deceived me and I ate.”

Turning round, Abba found the snake and cursed it to crawl about the ground. All at once its arms and legs fell clean off and it slithered away. Then he turned to Eve and cursed her to have pain upon bearing children. Then he turned to me. His eyes met mine and I cringed, tears streaming down my face.

“Cursed is the ground because of you! It will produce thorns and thistles for you until you return to it!”

We were then clothed in garments of skin and the Lord left us. I looked at Eve and she at me and I could see the tears streaming down her face. I held her close to my chest to give her comfort. She was mine and I was hers, this is how it was to be.

Suddenly a loud crashing erupted from just beyond the row of red trees in front of us. A flame of epic proportion swung high into the air up into the quickly darkening sky. As it swung back down I could hear a loud and piercing shrieking, the likes of which I’d never heard before. I threw my hands to my ears and fell to the ground as did Eve. With another crash a face appeared from among the trees, those of which immediately surrounding this most hideous of creatures burst into flame. It had brows of ash and eyes a deeper red than any I’d experienced thus far. Its arms and legs were like the trunks of the great trees and it smelled of burning flesh. It approached us rapidly, swinging about its flaming sword and not a moment more it was joined by another just as great, just as magnificently awful.

And so we ran Eve and I, her hand in mine, until at last, our feet bloodied, we reached the end of the garden. Our feet were greeted by coarse bits of sand, hot and dry, and from the sand there sprouted rapidly many thorns and thistles, so to move forward was to embrace pain, a feeling we’d not yet experienced. But to return would be to die, to cease to be, as I now understood it. And so we pressed onward, until we came upon a place where we could rest. A cave. We collapsed, legs and feet bleeding out, and fell into a deep sleep from which we would awaken unto a very different and desolate existence.

. . . . .

This is my account of those events which took place all that time ago. Since then we have learned to measure the days, to harvest the land, and to live on in fear of the Lord, our Father who gave us but one simple command which we could not keep, and thus Eden was lost.

ShazzyLouLou wrote: "I've made a few adjustments. Would you mind re-reading it when you get a mo? x

Diverse, fun-loving and never quiet, Soho should be just the distraction Lena was looking for. Nowadays the area h..."

Looks good! There are a couple mistakes, so you should probably read through it out loud but the way you have altered the structured gives it more of a "I am there" as opposed to a "I am watching this from far away" feel.

Josiah wrote: "Hi, here's a short story I had to write for a creative writing class last year. I've since revised it a bit but would like some feedback as to what to change or what not to change. I'll have to pos..."

It's almost like a fanfiction of a section of the bible :) I think it is fine as it is, but have you considered how it would appeal to a non-religious audience? Everyone doesn't believe the same things so do you feel you need some sort of introduction/hints here and there to queue your reader into what they are reading? Standing from a non-biased point I would find the story confusing, particularly at the end.

Another conflict can be that not all of the readers would understand the bible stories, so you might want to be just a bit clearer on that :)

I'm after some feedback on this. I'm not sure if it's a prologue or will be somewhere else in the book. It's my attempt at explaining my character's origins without writing war and peace about it! Here goes:

There is radiance and darkness in every world and every race.

The Fae have inhabited this world since the beginning of time. The light and the dark, the Seelie and Unseelie, have always been perfectly mirrored in generosity and greed, honour and selfishness, cruelty and kindness and above all, duty and treachery. The lines between the two were clear.

Or so it was thought.

Avarice is a formidable opponent. Unrelenting, cruel and all-possessing, those who would let her in would never be free. Once enthralled, those consumed by greed would change their very nature to satisfy their own selfish lust for power. Millennia ago, one Vampire coven chose to keep the souls with which they had been entrusted. Their sacred burden forgotten, they fed on a power and vitality they never knew existed; they let the souls die and failed in their duty to convey spirits to the Glory of Fae.

These are the Fallen. So enraptured, they walked from the light into the darkness and, in doing so, cursed an entire race.

In her fury, the Holy Mother of Fae cast every vampire out, never to set foot on her hallowed grounds again. She condemned them all to a life without sunshine, a life of eternal darkness. The food of the earth would nourish them, but only the blood of those they’d sworn to protect would sustain them. The voices of the dying would still call to them and they would feel all their pain and sadness. Duty would still weigh heavy on their shoulders but never again could they convey a soul to the peace and love of Fae.

For the Fallen there would be no redemption in this life or the next. Their own souls would wither and die with the possession of another’s. Should death ever find them, there would be no peace, only an eternity of nothingness.

Cursed though they are, there are still some who remain loyal to Faerie; those who live in darkness, but carry the light within them. Some who would protect mankind from the atrocities their brethren commit with their lives. They are loyal to their King and House Blackwood. They are the Dhelweard Order. And they will never give up hope

Any feedback would be gratefully received! Thanks in advance.
x

ShazzyLouLou wrote: "I'm after some feedback on this. I'm not sure if it's a prologue or will be somewhere else in the book. It's my attempt at explaining my character's origins without writing war and peace about it..."

When I first started reading it I did think it read more like a prologue but as I got deeper into it I wondered if you could add it in as something a character says to another? Maybe half way through the story one character tells this to the other to make then understand what is currently happening in the story if that makes sense. Of course it all depends on what you're story line is.

Hope that helps x

It's hard to put my new book in a category at this point because it isn't very far.

But here's the link.

Please feel free to leave CONSTRUCTIVE criticism, as well as some praise :)

I'll write a book here soon.I need to write a rough draft first.

Hi, Justyn. You would get much better feedback on this thread if you didn't use a link- in fact, you're actually not supposed to use links on this thread. :)

I'm trying to write the first chapter of my urban fantasy novel. This is my third attempt. Please help!

______________________________________________________


I didn’t know how long I had been walking, by the time I got past the last of those looming trees. I could have been walking for an eternity with no memory of it; since the lake, I had been moving like in a daze.

‘The lake. Daddy.’

I shook the thoughts away, forcing myself to concentrate on the path before me. The grass, already drying in the heat of the summer sun, had begun to fade before the black road. Dirt solidified beneath my bare feet. Burned them.

I quickly stepped back, confusion piercing the haze of my mind. The surprise created an opening; all at once, my thoughts rushed in. ‘The icy water… Hot sun… No air… Daddy…!’ I gagged, the memory of salt burning my throat. I began to shake before I even realized it, trembling uncontrollably with the weight of what had just happened.

I remembered nothing before this morning. Daddy had been there when my whole world came crashing down. The only person I had ever known, turning away and leaving me to die. He had raised me. He must have, though I had no memory of it, because he was everything to me. He had been my world, the only thing that had held me together.

And then…

“I’m sorry.” In a choked voice. A light shove, pain in hazel eyes. “Please don’t hate me for this, J-”

His words had cut off, left me with nothing. No excuse, no warning. Just an icy grave, as he turned and ran.

I hadn’t been able to swim. He never taught me. The water had just dragged me down, flowed freely into my lungs as I screamed, choked, sobbed. Darkness had come swiftly in the depths of the lake. I had been blind, helpless, as currents crushed me, pinned me to the rocky floor. Trapped, sure to die. Confused, hurt, scared.

But I had gotten out of it, hadn’t I? I stood before the burning ground now, the black streaked with paths of white and yellow. How had I managed that?

The memory, at first so clear, began to blur the closer I got to my present.

I remembered a coldness burning me from the inside. I remembered pain spearing through my hands. I remembered being trapped, climbing something solid, not liquid, to escape. I remembered the trees looming over me, goblin faces hidden in the bark. Their leaves had blocked out the sun; behind me, they still did.

But that was where the memory ended. That was where the world began to blur, my head began to spin. I held it, shook my head slowly from side to side to try and clear it. But the blurring, the spinning, only got worse.

After a confusing moment – seconds melting into minutes – I started forward again. There was nothing left for me at the lake; I couldn’t go back there, not after I had almost drowned. Though the black ground burned my feet, it wasn’t unbearable. I had to suffer through it, had to get past it. On the other side, there were more trees. If I could just get past them all…

‘Easy now,’ I reminded myself, as I inched forward. ‘Just take it one step at a–’

A noise outside of my own thoughts, outside of the eerie silence. It jolted me from my counting. I looked up, frowning, in the direction it came from, but saw nothing. Were my ears playing tricks on me?

Shaking my head, I dropped my gaze to my feet once more. Shards stuck out, faint trails of blood sliding down them. Odd, that I hadn’t noticed that pain, only the burning of the road. I bent down and put a finger to one of the shards. It wasn’t in very deeply; pushing it further in took no effort at all. A faint hint of pain flickered through me. My frown deepening, I added my thumb and worked on easing out the now trapped splinter.

Ah. So that’s where the pain was.

My hand dropped away immediately as it jolted through me, spiking through my nerves and making me flinch. Blood, uncomfortably warm as it stained the ground beneath me, overwhelmed me with its sickly metallic scent. Saliva filled my mouth as I choked back a gag.

And still the noise continued. As I struggled not to vomit right there on the burning road, it got louder. Closer. Even when it was right on top of me, I did not recognize it. But I saw it – the monster – in all its metallic hued, four-wheeled glory, for the briefest of seconds, before it rammed into my side.

I heard something shatter as the pain swooped in, tossed me backwards. Words, colorful and explosive, burst out into the night, almost blending with the screeching of tires. By the time the car spun to a stop, I too stopped, slamming to the ground and losing all the air that was left in my lungs.

My thoughts in shambles, my pulse pounding in my ears, the heat rushing through my veins, I struggled back to my feet. The remaining shards dug in deeper as I stumbled forward. Though pain shot up my neck as soon as I tried to lift my head again, I somehow managed it. And I saw the damage.

It had been one of those trees that had stopped the car. The monstrous face hidden in the bark was now splintered, spewing wooden fragments all along the dented hood. Glass, not unlike the shards still buried in my feet, decorated the dark ground. Those headlights – golden eyes that blinded me – were shattered. Their glow flickered for a moment, then cut out suddenly. Darkness rushed in, swallowed us up.

I squinted at the car. Watched, frozen, as two figures emerged from it.

They were huddled together, as though from cold. But the summer heat brought sweat, not shivers. In the girl’s eyes – dark, frightened – I saw pain. She was limping as the boy led her forward, away from the wreckage.

Though it was hard to make out anything, the moon above radiated just enough light to reveal the change in the girl’s eyes, as she finally turned her head and – mid-sob – caught my gaze.

Fear.

Confusion.

And then, bit by bit, the faintest flicker of anger’s flame.

She pulled away from the boy and stepped towards me as I took a frightened step back. Her voice was rough, maybe as rough as the road that still burned my feet. “Hey!” she began, her eyes narrowing, her hand reaching out. “You!”

Just two words, but that was enough. The anger – You wrecked our car! – the fear – She’s going to kill us! – the confusion – How did you do that?; all implied, but clear nonetheless. The emotions suffocated me.

I stumbled backwards again. My foot met cool dirt, a relief from the burning road. My gaze dropped, watched as the droplets of crimson followed me away from the road. Slivers of quickly melting ice (that which had saved me before?) continued sprinkling the ground with every step. They seemed to come from nowhere, no longer stuck in me.

Realizing this caused another thought to surface, one that made me shudder. Maybe… Maybe they hadn’t been stabbed into me from the outside. Maybe they had always been inside me, and only now begged for their release.

But if that was so, then what did that make me? A human couldn’t do that. At least, not a normal one…

Again, the girl spoke up. A question, and yet also a demand. “Who the hell-!”

Confusion and fear overwhelming my senses, I had no time for words. I bit my tongue lightly to force them back and – as the metallic tang choked me – I turned and fled back into the bushes, just as the blond raised his gaze at last, to the direction that the girl was now pointing.

Did he see me? No time to look back, to make sure that he hadn’t. My gaze was locked to those same looming trees, as I darted into the darkness.

Keep sending works, everyone!

I dont know if this is the right spot so please move if need be.
Im struggling with the title to an epic fantasy im currently working on. The working title is Guardian Legend.

Here is the blurb:

Recover the Spirit Stones. Kill the Devil King. Get Promoted.

Simple premise for Bruno Saivian, a devil-killing Seraph working his way up to be the best at what he does - however easy as those orders seem, he's got a lot working against him and it couldn't come at the worst time!

When a dimensional rift opens between worlds, bringing demons and death to the planes, rumors abound about a powerful creature set to destroy this fragile world he's assigned to protect. After the soul-stealing artifacts get taken by his adversary working with the Devil King who is planning a war against an alien god; it further complicates what was supposed to be an easy assignment.

Bruno will definitely need some help. But who can he ask if he's turned everyone away? He's got to make new friends fast while various other factions vie for control of the broken territories in their quest to stop the legendary beast. Otherwise, he's demoted to Soul Collecting.

And there are no advances in that job.

Some notes: the story follows a large cast (7 other characters) who all interact with bruno and their storylines affect the overall plot and his goals.
The world is steampunkish with limited advanced technology and restricted use of magic (alchemy only). There is a lot of politics involved (theocracy vs militrstic and the collective rights of humans vs seraphim vs demons in this world).
It is a big undertaking and due to the complexity has me hung up right now. The novel is just about finished after the last round of edits (5 more chapters - thanks developmental editors and betas) so if anyone would like to take a look hit me up

K.P. wrote: "I dont know if this is the right spot so please move if need be.
Im struggling with the title to an epic fantasy im currently working on. The working title is Guardian Legend.

Here is the blurb:

..."

When I'm stuck on titles, I usually use: http://www.onelook.com/reverse-dictio... or quotes based around the theme of the story until I find something that fits.

The plot from the description seems a bit scattered, but it seems like Soul collecting is your main theme?

Also, sometimes getting critiques on your query helps you and forces you to narrow it down until you have a good sense of the story.

1,500 words, the first chapter of my novel. Most of it is done, I just need clean up. Also a ruthless beta reader who doesn't take exception to the diversity in the story. Story is Historical Fantasy set in Asia mostly (Other countries in other continents are loosely mentioned). Upfront, there are close to zero white people (Hey, a background character or two)... but other diversity is also in the story.

Summary: Kushan (India, etc) Princess goes to Garak (Korean Kingdom) to marry, thinking she is going to be a Queen of a great kingdom, but when she arrives, she finds the place is small and technologically less advanced. The courtiers hate her and she is quickly accused of treason and murder of a priestess. She has to solve the murder while gaining the trust of the local court.

CHAPTER ONE



Dream-laced footsteps echoed against the ceiling. Every footstep reverberated time: change, repetition and evaporation. But in my dreams the future seemed so much more authentic than my waking reality. God Vishnu greeted me in the form of his incarnation, Rama. Tall, dark, handsome, with skin so dark it almost looked blue. With his dark brown eyes--almost black, he looked at his consort, Goddess Lakshmi, who appeared as Sita holding his hand. She with hips of a mother, nicely plump as I was not and her aurulent skin in contrast to Rama's. Their holy and eternal love swelled my heart with happiness. They beckoned me towards them and the setting appeared--or perhaps it was always there. Green rolling mountains nestled a village at their base. I never knew mountains could be green. The distant shh-shh of waves drew my attention. The air roughened with salt and oysters. The sounds and smell of freedom.

In the distance, I saw a ship with red brocade sails skimming the water. A ship from where I live, but this land is not. Suddenly, I knew I am on that ship which fills my heart with hope.

Sita signaled me to approach her. "You are home, Putri."

The ground shifted underneath my feet as I held her hand. The world swirled around me and then steadied. We were in the village. Purple, green, orange, brown, pink robes swirled around me as people passed me by. Their style was similar to Ciina, but I knew I was not in Ciina. Their voices rose in pitch and volume which was unlike Ciina, but their words were muffled. Then, Older Brother Priyam walked past me wearing the same clothes as the villagers. A man walked with him. I needed to see his face. He felt important. But I could not see his face. I was not sure if his face was turned, or if I was staring at a blur. A gold stag crown sat on his head. Words echoed in my mind but not through sound: "Be the mother to my nation."

But his face. I needed to see his face.

I tried to chase after him and my older brother. Rama and Sita said words that I could not quite hear, but I could understand. "He is your husband. Find him."

An eagle mask appeared on the King's face, but then I did not know if I was staring at the King, Vishnu or Rama. An owl sat on my shoulder, which I was sure was Goddess Lakshmi in a different form. I reached for the mask, but a mist arose and he was far away, or perhaps I was.

Who was I to find? I could not see his face. But then the thought became clear. I must get to the boat. Older Brother Priyam must be there.

Older Brother Priyam had disappeared. He had to come with me to this new land. I needed to see him. He could help me escape. I could get him.

Cold hit my body. The dream was dissipating, but I wasn't in my bedroom. This path was on the way to Older Brother Priyam's room I found myself stumbling, clacking echoing against the vaulted ceiling. I wanted to get back to the dream. Sita must have wanted to say something more than that.

The brightness of the full moon through the archway woke me. A momentary smell of night-blooming jasmine beckoned me to sleep.

My eyes closed for a second. Silk brocade sails slipped down the mast behind my eyes. Departure was soon. Priyam must be on board or the command of the Gods would dissolve.

"Princess Shakti," a voice called to me.

The female guards held me back. Bright red sail billowed on the breeze. The ship could not leave without me.

"First Queen Ganadarva's Dhai Ma will have our hides if she disturbs anyone," another female guard said.

Why wouldn't they let me go to Older Brother Priyam? The ship would leave...

"Why are we stuck with the crazy one? She's not that important."

"I am not crazy," I said. "I need to get to the ship."

The guard holding me back sighed.

"Still sleeping? Are you sure?"

"It's one of her dream-fevers."

I fought their grasping hands. I screamed. Older Brother Priyam had to come. They let go to cover their ears, so I ran and resume my quest. One of the guards cursed in Bactrian. Older Brother Priyam had to come. The boat with the brocade sails was leaving.

My sari slipped so I neatened it. The female guards were catching up. I ran past two sleeping male guards protecting the male quarters. Older Brother Priyam would come. He would. I reached his door and banged on it. Echoes came back to me. The footsteps of the female guards chased me.

The door opened.

"Shakti?"

Older Brother Priyam was wearing the wrong clothes. But he had to come.

"Another dream-fever," First Queen Gandarva's Dhai Ma said.

She came from nowhere. She held me in her arms. "Go to sleep, Princess."

No... I must get to Older Brother Priyam. I struggled against her arms. "But Sita and Rama have come to me in a dream."

"I am sorry, Princess, but I cannot have this happen again. Be it the will of the Brahmin gods, Buddha or Ahura Mazda ."

She handed me off to servants I did not recognize. "Tie the Princess to the bed if you have to."

My eyes drooped and they opened my mouth and force me to swallow. My bangles jingled on my arm, but I couldn't remember putting them on. It was the last sound I heard before I blacked out.

***

The soft stroking of my hair woke me the next morning. Cinnamon and roses drifted up my nose. I cracked open one eye and saw one silk-covered knee. I already knew who it was. My mother must have been worried about me after last night's incident.

Her bangles clicked with each stroke.

"My lovable daughter," Ambaa's voice cooed. "Another dream vision?"

I nodded. I only sleep walked when I had one.

"Have you been troubled?" she asked.

I shook my head, even though it was a lie. Even in my morning stupor, I felt anger bubble. The palace walls closed in on me, even in the sanctuary of my bedroom. There was no escape.

I told everything her everything about the gods, my destined husband and the ship, but the part about Older Brother Priyam. I did not want to tell her that I was destined to take her only son. The king gave up giving her favors after I was born, and she was too old to bare another child.

"I cannot grant these things--you know that. Only the King can grant you a ship and he is in Bactria," she said.

"Why can't you give me a ship?"

"I do not know this land your dream told of, the direction it lies, its name or the husband you are to marry. Will this husband take you as first wife, second wife, third wife or a concubine?"

The bangles stopped as if she knew her words were too harsh, or maybe she was contemplating her fate as third wife.

Ambaa's strokes resumed. She said, "Perhaps the dream is not exact, but to remind me to find you a husband? You are fourteen. I should have started your search sooner. But with the news of Damayanti's pregnancy and the trouble to get her married, I have been distracted."

There was an apology in her words I didn't need. I was sorry I could not relieve her of her burdens.

When I did not answer, she added, "You did help greatly with your dreams of Damayanti's husband."

Also words of comfort I did not need. She must have felt my shoulders tense.

"I will find you a husband who will treat you well and respect you. If fate is fate, then there is nothing I can do to stop it."

She shifted my head to a pillow. I did not want to tell her that it was this palace I wanted to leave. The husband was less important.

"Dress and come. We must serve breakfast to the other women before we discuss more."

I rolled over. The scent roses was already dissipating.

"You are Third Queen, Ambaa. Why don't the servants do it? Why don't they respect us? Why do we stay in this place?"

She firmed her lips which meant not to ask more questions. "Let the prophecy happen as it may. But to leave you will have to wait for your Royal Father. Be careful, my lovable daughter, some wishes and prophecies are not meant to be forced."

She left with those words, but no answer to my questions. The embarrassing display during the night made me want to avoid my brother for the rest of the day. I fell back asleep.