i just love reading these in everyone’s different writing styles.
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You can have this, from an upcoming, untitled project:
“Why’s it called Dominican Heights if there’s a kebab shop here, an Irish pub there, a pizzeria here and a Tapas bar there?” Jose asked as he pointed everything out.
Evander rolled his eyes. “We’ve been over this before–a Dominican man founded this place–and it’s up on a hill, so he came up with the name Dominican Heights.”
“Yeah, I know that–”
“–So why are you asking?”
“Because I thought it was still Dominican.”
Evander nodded. “It still is, it always will be.”
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I was just editing this today. A real reason for Villain monologue:
“So, you… dissect your victims?”
She gagged, remembering how the carcasses of the residents were often found in pieces and scattered over an area.
“Waste not, want not…” he shrugged. “I’ll blood you first, so there is less likelihood of you bleeding to death when I amputate. The tourniquet will help. Don’t worry, your death is still weeks off, and it will be painless when it comes.” He smiled, as if that news should make her feel better.
“Why are you telling me at all?” Her face twisted into an ugly mask of horror and disgust. She wondered if he enjoyed freaking his victims out before doing them in.
“Because you won’t remember any of this conversation, that’s why.”
Enrique is such a bastard…
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This cold and withering world I found myself in hadn’t been my origin, but it belonged to me now. And I to it. It had snapped me up in its fanged jaws from the very moment I’d risen from the sand and swallowed me whole—absorbing me within itself. This realm of death, this sleeping sun, and I were completely intertwined now like a soul in a body. Inseparable.
And then she explodes.
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I think this one is currently my favourite (haven’t edited yet tho)
“Woah, woah, woah.” Amneris pushed on her daughter’s shoulders until she was sitting once again. “Where do we think we’re going?”
“To help,” Hathor said. “I’ve been helping up until now.”
“You have, have you?”
“Yeah!” She nodded. “I helped Zoe and Ray.”
Amneris glared at Zoe who had suddenly become extremely interested in her wine glass. “You did, did you? Who authorized that?”
Now it was Leo’s turn to find something–the plate he was drying–interesting. When he made the mistake of looking up, Leo put the plate between himself and the glare, grimacing on the other side. Amneris’ eyes narrowed. The plate shattered. Leo yelped and ran from the room.
Hathor merely rolled her eyes. “Mum, seriously, I’m almost 200. I’m allowed to go out and see the world. I’m allowed to go on sleepovers. I’m allowed to live without your supervision at the Academy. Why can’t I go on missions?”
Amneris lightly hit the top of her daughter’s head. “Because you’re too young to be in–”
“Involved in things that wouldn’t be happening if you’d just done your job?” Hathor interrupted.
“Exactly.” Amneris blinked. “Wait–”
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These are the first paragrapsh of my WiP:
On the edge of an odd galaxy — in a universe older than all others put together — a displaced black hole was spinning out of control from the force of perpetual indignation. Richard, long for Dick, was outraged at all the untraditional things going on here in what the black hole considered to be ITS galaxy.
Even the gods struggled to fully comprehend the conservative attitude of a black hole, and Dick was the best, eternally hating change in all its forms, especially for the better. Beings like Dick were only possible because in the senile dimensions of the multiverse — every oddity that can occur — has already occurred.
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Its kind of hard to get a feeling for my writing…I see myself writing as me, but was told that my stories are very different from each other, so its hard to get a feel for who I am as a writer. And Im like…really, Im a bit of a Chameleon?
So, anyway, a bunch of different stories being worked on right now…so, lets go with one that has a wide range of change because the story covers going from childhood to well into the MCs 20s.
Maysie's Galaxy
First paragraph:
There was a girl who lived on a bluff off of a sinkhole, called May. Well, there were plenty of homes on this bluff’s hill slope as the Loess Hills has been cut by the Missouri River. And the girl had plenty of names, but she was little, so they didn’t matter to her. Maysie-May couldn’t remember a time when her home was called anything other than “The Bluffs of the Sinkhole.”
Early on in the story, while still a child:
Faintly, the man’s voice could be heard. " Come and ‘effin get me ya’ dumb mutant!"
The shots rang out much louder. 1, 2, 3… 1,2, 3… 1, 2, Crunch!
The bird bit him like he was a flea on Mr. Kitty. Maysie nearly let go out of shock at seeing that their home did not care for them.
That was when she at least understood Alder’s fear—not the behaviors. Their host was safe as long as it was indifferent to them. It was not their friend, and in a sense, it would never be home. They were on the back of a living thing and had little value to it.
But what scared Maysie more, as the bird went back to slowly eating its rocks out in space, was that there were humans out there that went out of their way to provoke the beast.
It was her first truly adult thought.
After about 7 chapters, the story goes into her adult years, so the story changes again.
This is an adult scene that doesn’t ahm…actually culminate in an act, but is still…adult. She’s 22.
Ethan shook his head. “I didn’t mean every secret thought–just why do you want to be 4 sloe screws into a party before you touch me?”
She looked down between them. The view was one she loved but couldn’t be denied that it was extremely awkward. A woman fully dressed, a man in his underwear, pants around his ankles caught up on combat boots, and an erection straight from the pits of hell.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, she never fully escaped just what kind of man she was toying with and frankly she’d swear “that Yourban Maniac” was the name of the serpent that waited to jump out the bushes and surprise a woman. “That’s going to break me…”
His bark of laughter as he pulled her against him was a comforting presence, although there was plenty to worry about between them. “It’s my job as the experienced partner to make sure you’re ready.”
He waited until she nodded to take care of removing her shirt and jeans, distracting her with little kisses across her pale stomach–kicking off his boots at the same time–and pulled her into the bed with him, where he took the time to gently knead her back as she relaxed, mindful of running his hands under her straps until he heard her gentle snore his ear.
He stifled a laugh to mutter, “Not too drunk my ass. Beloved, you are not ready.”
wow i remember your book back from the wattpad forums.
For something a bit different, here are some short stories I wrote for a student anthology in 2018, part of a final year university project.
The Silent Watchmen
We keep a solitary, at times thankless, vigil in every form of harsh environment. We have guarded many generations from the shadows of their past, the fearful unknown, and the cruelty of the world beyond their walls. We ensure countless secrets and embarrassing events remain hidden from prying eyes and ears. Never once admitting their existence, regardless of any punishment inflicted upon us.
We are always within reach when our charges seek our council, or simply our company and assurance, to prevent their kingdoms from unravelling and their lives falling to chaos. Never ones to criticise or judge, only to offer what services we can. If the battle proves too great and our masters fall, we fall beside them and gather the pieces to rebuild when the dust has settled.
Although there are many formidable companies of unremarked guardians, capable of surviving impossible conditions and defeating horrific opponents, they are not the only ones of their kind nor the originals.
The first line of defence and the last to fall. We are the watchers on the shelves.
The Teddy Bear Brigade.
Murphy's Law
Amos rubbed his balding scalp as he watched Hannah pick through the remains of their F-16I scattered along the valley floor.
‘Congratulations, Military Intelligence,’ Amos muttered as Hannah paced towards him. ‘Did that Triple-A nest slip your memory?’
Hannah dropped their radio kits’ smouldering remnants by her feet. ‘What’s the plan now?’
Amos pointed to the west ridgeline. ‘Any SAR will fly in from the Med with the sun behind them.’
‘That’s two valleys away,’ Hannah said.
Amos shrugged and setoff. ‘Then let’s hustle. Doubtless Command also scrambled bombers to clean up. Can’t have this situation unravel any–’
Hannah darted passed the lumbering Amos, bounding up the hillside.
‘Luxury of youth,’ Amos grunted. ‘Just a simple Recon flight up north, they say. Multi-million dollar mistake, I say.’
‘Tired already?’ Hannah’s voice whispered over Amos’ earpiece.
‘The chutzpah.’ Amos glanced up to find Hannah silhouetted by the afternoon. ‘Get down. You’re–’
Hannah crumpled to the ground as a sharp crack erupted from the opposite ridgeline.
Amos scurried up to Hannah’s side to find her clutching her blood-drenched shoulder. ‘Anything serious hit?’
‘Just a scratch.’ Hannah winced as Amos’ hand joined hers. ‘Our hosts move fast.’
Amos peered over his shoulder to the distant report of a rocket. ‘That’s a big RPG.’
‘It was an honour,’ Hannah breathed.
Amos nodded. ‘The best years of my–’
Another salvo of gunfire split the air above them followed by a rocket detonating shy of its prey.
‘Opposition’s bolted,’ a voice announced over their earpieces. ‘There’s a Blackhawk waiting in the next valley.’
‘My co-pilot’s wounded. She needs…’ Amos glanced up as a sand-crusted sniper crouched beside them. ‘…Help.’
‘Yes, you’re both quite forgetful.’ The sniper motioned to carry Hannah. ‘Next time remember, incoming fire always has the right of way.’
The Cost of Pride (Published & printed in the anthology)
Alexei,
I stand amazed at how your sense of self-importance can unravel my life’s work in an instant. Perhaps, due to our recent victories, you felt our family needed more worthy adversaries. Well, I congratulate you.
I understand that yesterday you tried to court a violinist performing on a rain-soaked pier. Your response to the girl’s curt rejection was to cast her Amati into the swell. The girl dived after her violin, and her lunch-bearing companion rescued both. Had she returned earlier, we might have avoided many headaches.
The violinist you thought an easy mark is Freyja. An orphan adopted by Dov, a former Australian Commando. Both are the latest members of Israel’s Gavish family. They were once mafia. Now a private army.
Two months ago, rumours surfaced of a rare virus poisoning Dov’s bone marrow. Freyja pleaded for the doctors to replace Dov’s infected marrow with her own. A forlorn plan, yet one without alternatives. The countless donations kept her bedridden until last week. A pained Freyja stumbled out the next morning. Each day since, she played her violin along the beach where she first met Dov. Encouraging him to join her again.
Fortunately, Dov awoke last night with his strength restored. Unfortunately, a fevered Freyja greeted him. Once more confined to her hospital bed. Accompanied by her battered Amati.
I recommend you remain in jail until you exhaust their hospitality. If only to keep you breathing while I untangle this disaster. Perhaps another original Amati, acquired with your inheritance, will placate Freyja. However, if Dov elects to weave your noose from the first violin’s splintered bow, then this is a valuable lesson. For others if not you.
Your father,
Mikhail
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Immortal enemies to lovers to enemies to lovers to enemies to—
boop
He couldn’t meet her eyes. “I will not be deceived by you again.”
“No.”
“No?”
A soft smile tugged at the corner of Rani’s lips. “No. I won’t have you spin it that way. I’m long past pretending to be something I’m not. I’m not the coy seductress you claim I am, and you’re not blameless for loving me. You know exactly what I am. You know what I have done, what I would do again. It is no deception that brings you back to me, over and over again. You love me, wretched as I am, but that is your own failing, not mine. You would not blame a lion for what it does to a deer, or a shard of glass for what it does to soft, unmarked flesh, and yet every time I live as I always have, you claim I have betrayed you. It’s no betrayal, my darling, and slandering me as though I have tricked you does not absolve you from loving a monster. You know. You’re not surprised. You never are. You can take me or leave me, love, but know either way that no lies hang between us. You want me for every terrible, wicked thing I’ve done, and you hate yourself for it. So how will you have me, evil as I am?”
“You can’t—” he scowled as she cut him off.
“This is about you, not me,” Rani said, arms folded across her chest, legs tucked neatly together.
He pursed his lips, daring to look at her. I never could resist you.”
“It’s in our gravity. We were meant to crash into each other, every time,” she told him gently.
He sighed, letting himself fall into the comfortingly familiar shape of her arms. “I suppose we were.”
I kinda like this one from the latest chapter. Zero editing but, hear me out.
He stared deeply into Hida’s brown amber eyes as though searching for something, staring until they felt as if they were going to melt under his unwavering stare. Then, he asked softly, “You don’t want to hurt anybody else, do you? Not anymore?”
Hida shook his head quickly and firmly in response to Mari’s question. “Not ever again,” he murmured fiercely.
Mari smiled, letting a brief chuckle slip through the quiet room. He nodded slowly. “That’s good.” He raised one hand and rested the back of it against the boy’s forehead, waiting a moment before speaking. “How about you promise not to kill anyone again? How does that sound?”
Hida glanced up at him uncertainly before lowering his eyes once more with another pained grimace. “I…I’d like that…”
“Then I’ll help you,” Mari replied calmly. “Whatever I can do to help. We can work together. I have connections to some people who can help you if you want it, if you trust me. Just say the word.” He paused, studying Hida’s face carefully, then added quietly, “If you really feel this way, then please believe me when I tell you it isn’t too late for us to turn things around.”
Mari held his breath while he waited for an answer. Finally he let out his breath in relief as he saw Hida nod without hesitation in response to his request.
Mari sat in silence after receiving the young man’s assent as he pondered what exactly was driving the violent impulses that had led Hida down such a dangerous path of destruction in the past. There seemed no other possible explanation but the same one which haunted all of humanity—an innate lack of love and understanding, of compassion and empathy from others, of caring and acceptance, and most importantly, of forgiveness. It took every ounce of courage and strength Mari possessed not to reach over and hold the young man beneath him until there were no more tears to be shed, until remorse and guilt were erased from his heart forever.
After several long minutes spent staring off into space, Hida finally broke his silence with a ragged sigh. “You don’t know how happy that makes me,” he murmured, smiling at Mari with watery eyes that sparkled with unshed tears. “Thank you.”
And rhe difference between stories is wider than juat Maysie’s Galaxy. Favorite thing about what Im currently wring on is the opening scene.
The Essence of U
It should be a bright, sunny day, warm bricks baking the back of Daniel Faith, as he fiddled with the stumpy cigar he carried for affectation. Instead, panic laced his vision, bringing isolated glimpses of the two guys in front of him-one a crumpled heap in a scraggly bush of Holly, and the other of his childhood friend, Oscar Malone.
“Guess who put this bitch on the ground?”
The anger Daniel held in check every time he witnessed this psychopath tested his ability to not become a murderer nearly daily. The asshole picked a fight with anyone he could lay his hands on. The urge to just end this dude was a craving that itched his gums, tensed his neck, sucked the breath from his lungs, focused every thought to a singular heartbeat that chanted, “Death!” with each pulse.
In short, he risked being Oscar.
“Who would need guesses?” Daniel managed to sound calm after his vision started to clear. “Jamie is going to be so disappointed in you.”
“Nah, man…” Oscar’s face went vacant, save for the panic in his eyes.
Tendrils of flesh wrapped forward around his face as the thing that stood behind him sucked Oscar’s head into it’s maw one strip at a time until it pushed the body of this frenemy over. The strands slowly fused into that unnatural gaping mouth, then into the face of a badly beaten and unrecognizable boy.
The body was no longer in the bush, and it smirked at Daniel, the one opened eye declaring a victory, daring what it beheld to pretend it’s still a bad-ass.
As his world finally faded to black, a woman’s voice purred, “Welcome, Inquisitor 3…”
Daniel abruptly sat up in his own bed, the neutral tones of his home not real for the first few minutes as he sorted reality from fantasy. There was no sun or rage in the rising twilight, though his chest was thrumming as the edges of a panic attack dared him to freak out.
Perhaps if it had been the first time he had the dream, he would have had a meltdown, but it had been this very thing that had soured his friendship with Oscar over the years. It started the first time his friend had flipped and beat some random kid for nothing.
That had been three years ago, at the start of highschool. The therapist his mom made him go to before she forced him to quit had said the stupid thing was rich with symbolism. Of course, he also said that Daniel’s conscience wanted Oscar out of his life-which was true-but his mom wouldn’t let him get rid of Jamie’s son.
Calm finally descended. Daniel stood and stretched, then started his day with a shower, where he thought about killing Oscar, to be free of being branded the bad boy if he was willing to wear a straitjacket.
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A little thing from Lunar Heart, Shadow Bound. I really like Pinti and Kirlan’s friendship here. Valan is Kirlan’s older brother, btw.
She made her best friend fight her war.
Pinti frowned. “If you hadn’t gone, you’d be fine.”
He rested a paw on her shoulder. “Hey, I would have done it anyway. And I’m back safe. A little burnt, a little scarred, but alive.” He cocked his head and offered a smile. “And you’ve done nothing wrong. I know you’re beating yourself up about it. I know you.”
Why’s he so nice? she wondered. He could be like Valan and berate her for being irresponsible. She sighed out loud and Kirlan rubbed her back.
“Wanna talk about it?”
Pinti looked up at him. Like Valan, he was a head taller than her, but unlike Valan’s shaved off bangs like most warriors, Kirlan’s were messy, and his mane was always unbraided, flowing freely down his back. He always had a belt around his waist with an array of knives in their sheaths, and a pouch of birdseed.
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