Hi! I’m a new follower of your blog! Here is the ending to one of the chapters of a novelette I recently write and submitted to a romance magazine.

Robyn felt unable to move or stop the scene she was participating in. The camera and people all seemed to disappear and she was caught somewhere between reality and fiction. But how much of it was true? Derek had flubbed his lines. Was it on purpose? Was he apologizing to her for what happened so long ago? And what was this intense kiss? Was it for real or for the show? Either way, she was enjoying it and she knew she shouldn’t have been.
“What the hell is this shit?” Robyn heard screech out and the two finally pulled away. Brooke stood at the foot of the beach.
“I think this is you being replaced,” Miranda simply stated.

[Reply]

By Stephanie on 05.04.09 9:47 am | Permalink

This is the last four paragraphs of the first chapter of my sci-fi.

A plateau came into view at the foot of the mountain range and Brad strained to manoeuvre the ship toward it. Beads of sweat dripped into his eyes, blurring his eyesight and making it difficult for him to judge the distance between the ground and the ship. As they approached the plateau, he lowered the nose of the ship slightly, allowing for gravity to do the rest. He clenched the controls as tight as he could, watching the advancing ground draw closer.

Impact threw loose canisters and debris all over the cargo bay, with the Commander being tossed around like a rag doll. Brad, still tightly strapped down, gripped his armrests, as he was thrown from one side of his seat to the other. Sparks from small explosions ripped through the controls in front of him. The sound of Speck’s frightened yells were barely audible over the blare of the ships emergency sirens, as the ship swayed from side to side. Thick black dust blocked the view from the cockpit, as the ship slid across the plateau and finally settled into one spot.

Everything was still. The silence only broken by a constant hissing sound coming from somewhere behind him. Brad listened to his heart beat as small pebbles and rocks pelted the hull of the ship. Dust particles found their way inside the ship and floated gently on the air currents.

His muscles were sore from the strain of controlling the throttle. His body felt heavy, and he was unable to move from exhaustion. Brad closed his eyes and rested his head on the back of his seat. Slowly the light that filtered through his eyelids began to fade as the hissing sound grew louder.

[Reply]

By Jannette on 05.04.09 4:18 pm | Permalink

This is from the first paragraph of my sci fi!

I wonder, sometimes—I can’t help but wonder—what it will feel like to stand on Centauri-Earth and look up at the stars and see only dots of light, not trailing splatters of delicate colors. It’ll be a long time, I know—I’ll be really old by the time we land, but when we do, I hope it’s at night. I want it to be really dark with no clouds or moons, and I hope before we set out to make our new world as the first humans on another planet, we all take a moment to stand still on the planet and look at the sparkling stars.

But I try not to think about it too much. Planet-landing is a long way away, and I don’t like to remember how much time will pass before I go from being a traveler to a settler.

Above me, the stars glow brightly.

And then one of them dies.

[Reply]

By beth on 05.07.09 9:34 am | Permalink

Hi – beth sent me – but I wondered if the cliffhanger had to be from a finished manuscript, or if it could be from a WIP?

[Reply]

By Aerin on 05.07.09 10:28 am | Permalink

Hi. This is from the fourth chapter of my current paranormal wip.

In a second I was off the bench, the book clutched to my chest and my other hand, palm out, facing toward Jared. He was also on his feet, both of his hands up in the universal sign of surrender. His eyes were dark and filled with anger.

“See! This is what I’m talking about. They’ve already got their hands on you, wound around you, reaching into your soul! You don’t even know what that damned thing is and you’re ready to fight me for it.”

Jared took two steps forward and stood towering over me, his chest only a hair’s width away from my hand. The crackle of energy tickled my palm but Jared ignored the warning. Resolution flashed across his eyes and I wanted to shout at him, tell him to stay away from me but I had no time. He lunged forward violently, the tension in my hand releasing as the energy in my palm zapped into his body. He cried out in pain, but I didn’t hear it. His flesh sizzled and smoked. It would have been nauseating if I could have smelled it. My senses were numb and the world around me hazy. The only sense I had left was that of touch and that sense was focused entirely on Jared’s lips pressed against mine.

[Reply]

By Cinnamon on 05.07.09 2:05 pm | Permalink

Here are the last few paragraphs of a story that I’m writing. (There might be some parts that are confusing since it’s in the 9th chapter.)

Getting out of the convertible, I scanned the horizon for the warehouse. I noticed behind a clump of trees on the far side of the parking lot, that there was an immense gray building. If I hadn’t have even been searching for it, I doubted I would’ve even noticed it at all. It blended into the surrounding trees, almost as if hiding, trying not to be seen.

I gulped, and took my first step. There was no turning back now I had to do this. I finally reached the entrance of the unfriendly building. Who even bothers to build a warehouse beside a beach parking lot, and then desert it? There were only a few small windows near the top of the two-story structure, which made me shudder. This was the perfect place for a killer to hide. I started worrying about maybe if I should just go home. I pulled out the letter, and read it over again. My author went to the same school as me, which means they’re close to my age. And if they went to the bonfire too, then they can’t be some runaway from prison, right? An axe murderer wouldn’t show his face in public, I calmed myself.

I reached out and touched the cold metal door in front of me. It stood ajar, beckoning me to open it further. I took a deep breath, and pushed it open. After taking a small step inside, I looked around. The warehouse was much smaller than I expected it to be. There were stacks of cardboard boxes scattered around the floor, and a few broken lights hung from the ceiling. I inched inside a little more, peering into all of the dark corners that weren’t visible because of the darkness. I couldn’t hear a sound except for my rapid breathing, which I tried to stop.

It wasn’t until I was a few feet inside of the abandoned warehouse that I heard the female voice behind me.

“It’s about time you showed up,” she hissed.

I whirled around as soon as the doors slammed shut, flooding the room with darkness.

[Reply]

By Ashley on 05.07.09 3:12 pm | Permalink

Here’s a chap from my debut novel: Blood Prophecy
Chapter Fourteen
Akasha hummed as she changed into her new outfit. She hoped Silas would like it even as she chastised herself for thinking like a girl. One good thing about last night was that she now knew that Silas liked her. Like. Such a juvenile word for how she was starting to feel about him. She was about to put on her top when her door opened. She whipped around; the hair on the back of her neck stood on end.
“Hello Akasha.” Razvan Nicolae sauntered in the room.
“W-what the hell are you doing? C-can’t you see I’m getting dressed? Get the f*** out of here!” She yelled, trying to hide her fear. This was the vampire that made Silas. She knew that now. He was over a thousand years old, which made him very powerful. She swallowed and crossed her arms over her breasts; her throat was dry as sandpaper.
The vampire ignored her outrage and stalked closer to her. “I just discovered that you know our secret.”
She nodded, hating the fact that she had to face him wearing only a bra and pants.
“So you know why I am here.”
“Yes. The Elders want to make sure Silas isn’t trying to go against his kind or monopolize his power by Marking me and my friends. I just don’t understand why we would make it look like that.”
He laughed. “Obviously Silas hasn’t explained our politics to you. Normally, after my first visit I would have left and declared you all harmless. But….” He wagged a scolding finger at her. “There is more to you than you let on. You are hiding things. And so is your singing friend. That compels me to investigate further.” He took another step closer. “You know that we can’t read your mind. Why is that?”
She shook her head, not beginning to know how to answer him.
“And there is more, isn’t there?” He grazed her shoulder lightly with a fingertip. She refused to tremble.
“You really are a pretty little thing. I can see why Silas fancies you. But tell me, do you fancy him as well?”
“I don’t see that that’s any of your f***ing business.” She growled.
“Oh, but it is. You see, the things you are hiding are, in fact, things that Silas is hiding. And if Silas is hiding things from the Elders, they will not be pleased. Very unpleasant things happen to those who invoke their displeasure.”
“You’re threatening Silas.” Her voice was cool but she was burning with rage.
“Indeed I am, Akasha. Now tell me what I need to know. Why are you different? Why do your thoughts move too fast for me to read? Why won’t you tell us where you came from?”
“I don’t know!” She nearly screamed in frustration.
“That is not an acceptable answer. I told you, for your stubbornness, Silas will have to pay.”
The tentative hold she had on her temper snapped. With speed she didn’t know she possessed, she picked Razvan up by his arms and threw him through the sliding-glass door. He landed hard on the stone balcony in a pile of bloody broken glass.
Akasha strode after him, wincing as a shard of glass sliced her arm. She ignored the pain and picked the vampire up by the throat and dangled him over the edge of the balcony.
“Don’t ever threaten Silas again.” She hissed.
“I knew there was more to you.” Razvan gloated.
“I mean it!”
“You think to kill me this easily, child?” His tone was mocking but she could see the astonishment in his eyes.
“The fall wouldn’t kill you, but I bet I can get down there fast enough to set you on fire before your bones heal enough for you to move.”
Ahh, yes. Finally a spark of fear came to his eyes. Razvan tried to laugh, but it was shaky. She debated whether to drop him or let him back up.
“Akasha!” Silas’s voice reverberated behind her, holding more wrath than she’d ever heard before. “What are you doon?”
She tried to sound casual. “Razvan came in here when I was getting dressed and rudely demanded to know why I’m different. He also threatened you. I thought if I showed him my difference from normal people quickly and bluntly enough, he might quit with the threats and let me put my shirt on.”
Silas’s eyes blazed as he strode onto the balcony. The sound of glass crunching beneath his boots was ominous. “What is the meanin’ of this?” He glared at Razvan; his Scottish brogue was creeping into his words.
Oh, he’s pissed! Akasha thought.
“Ye came inta’ her room when she was dressin’? Ye tormented her and threatened me? Och! No wonder yer hangin’ off the bloody balcony!” He turned to Akasha, still furious. “And as fer ye, lass, do ye ken what ye’ve done? This is a Lord and a representative of the Elders! Tae treat him like this is an unforgivable insult! Now let him up and get dressed. We three obviously need tae talk.”
Akasha sighed in defeat and swung Razvan back over, unceremoniously depositing him on the stone floor in the pile of broken glass. To her surprise, he was smiling.
“Thank you.” He whispered before taking her hand and licking a rivulet of his blood off it.
With a mocking bow, he left the room. Now she was alone with Silas. His eyes were still glowing. Her stomach clenched in trepidation. She’d never seen him this angry before.
“You’re hurt.” He stated, peering at the gash on her arm.
She shrugged. “I’ve had worse.”
She couldn’t read his expression. Much like Razvan had, he took her hand and bent down. She gasped as his tongue darted out to lave a hot path up her arm. The erotic sensation was so powerful; she had to put a hand on his shoulder to remain on her feet. He raised a finger to his lips and pierced it with a fang. Gently, he trailed the bleeding finger along the cut. It began to tingle and heal before her eyes. She’d read in books that vampiric blood had healing powers. Seeing the proof was stunning.
“Better?” He asked.
“Yes.” She whispered, enraptured with his eyes.
He stared down at her for the longest time; he seemed to analyze every part of her as if he wanted to devour her. Finally, his gaze rested on her breasts and she blushed furiously before he spoke again. “When you are dressed, meet Razvan and me in my chamber… the one I don’t sleep in.”
“’Kay.”
When she arrived, she saw that though they were solemn, Silas and Razvan didn’t seem to be angry with one another. Instead, their attention was fixated upon her. She also saw that the largest sword of Silas’s collection had been taken down from the wall and was lying on the floor at their feet.
“Pick up the sword, Akasha.” Silas commanded.
A thousand questions darted through her mind, but she obeyed. The sword was heavy, but she lifted it easily and held it above her head.
“Try it with one hand.”
She did. Again, it was easy. Razvan smiled triumphantly and it was all she could do not to bring the flat of the blade down upon his head.
Silas spoke again. “The sword you are holding is a Claymore, Akasha. Only the largest warriors of my clan could wield it. It is a two-handed sword and it should be physically impossible for a tiny girl like you to lift it, much less handle it like a rapier.”
“You have super-human strength, pet mortal.” Razvan declared, “And from what I’ve seen, intelligence as well. Now how did that happen?”
“I already told you, I don’t know.” She handed the sword back to Silas. “I was telling the truth.”
“But surely you must know something.”
“I don’t!” She cried in rage and mournful desperation. “Do you think I don’t want to know? To know once and for all why I’m the freak that I am? Damn, I’d almost kill to know why!”
“Maybe something happened to you in the past and you just have to search your memories.” Razvan suggested.
“A lot of things have happened to me.” She retorted, then her eyes widened as she grasped his words. They were perhaps the most intelligent she’d ever heard him speak thus far. “Silas, I don’t think I can tell you all that’s happened to me… but I can show you.” She tilted her head, baring her neck.
She remembered him saying he could see a mortal’s entire life as he fed from them. Both vampires regarded her in stunned silence. Then Razvan began to clap.
“All right.” Silas whispered. “Razvan, you may take your leave. I will tell you everything tomorrow evening.”
“Very well. I bid you two Adieu.” Slowly, he rose up into the air.
“You can fly?” Akasha yelled, “You bastard! I thought I actually could have killed you.”
“Sorry to disappoint you, little one.” He smiled, baring his fangs.
She was disappointed, but she wasn’t going to rise to his bait and attack him again. Instead, she regarded him with cold eyes.
“Why were you so afraid then?” She’d seen the fear of death in a man’s eyes before. It was unforgettable and Razvan had borne a glimmer of it.
He strode over to her and fixed his eyes upon her. She stared back, unafraid. Vampire mind control didn’t work on her, she’d learned.
“Because, Akasha, you meant it. You meant to end my existence with every fiber of your being.” And then he was gone.
Akasha was alone with Silas and this time he really was going to bite her.

[Reply]

By Brooklyn Ann on 05.07.09 5:46 pm | Permalink

Hi Aerin – it can definitely be from a WIP. Good luck.

[Reply]

By Joyce on 05.07.09 7:14 pm | Permalink

This is the last part of chapter ten of the second novel, working title ‘Unwanted’ in a fantasy series I’m writing.

Wistern found himself strangely reluctant to part ways with the unique creature who had endeavored to aid the Drakes when the time finally came to do so. Although the Frontwind General hardly knew Afaelirian, he found something within the Iisuliaev that was a great deal like many of the things Wistern believed lived within himself. It was not a bond that Wistern wanted, or had looked for, but he sensed it there, none-the-less. And now the Drakes were leaving, escaping, and Fae would be left to suffer the backlash of his deeds were discovered.
There was little the Frontwind General could do about his situation, however. One of his officers was dead, and the rest of the Drakes would be as well if they didn’t get as far away as they could, as fast as they could. Beyond that, if he let his own reluctance slow them and they were caught now, all of Fae’s risks would have been taken in vain. Still, all the men took time to make their gratitude clear to the Iisuliaev, especially after Leitaela – who had much recovered herself – paused long enough to bestow an utterly innocent and heartfelt kiss on Fae’s cheek. Tataela followed after her sister, more reserved but offering the completely astonished Afaelirian a soft touch on the chest.
When Wistern drew up beside their unusual benefactor, he halted, thoughtful but resigned to his course. Beyond Fae, the gate he’d created shimmered, its circular edges visible only as a sort of heat ripple. The General might have been uneasy about being separated from his soldiers, but Dawar, also much recovered, had promptly passed back through after crossing, and had assured his commander that all was well on the opposite side. He looked rather ill for the trip, but had insisted on making it.
“Quickly General, the gate is not designed to last for long.” Afaelirian prodded, wondering if the scrutinizing was do to the lovely peck he’d received from the talented little half elf.
“Can you not just slip away, and come with us?” Wistern ran a hand through his greying auburn hair, scowling with thought and all the emotions he couldn’t place.
The suggestion struck Fae profoundly and before he could stop himself, he reached out to take one side of the man’s face in his hand, smiling. Wistern jerked in surprise, but the action wasn’t enough to free him. Fae’s smile broadened even further. Humans were so wary of such personal contact between non-mates, especially males. Despite that, the Iisuliaev rubbed his thumb over the stubble of hair growth that covered Wistern’s handsome, if weary and worn, face.
“There is nowhere I can go, that my Masters cannot find me. They will simply Command me to return.” Fae said quietly, but his smile remained. “That is why I did not end the gateway in a predetermined place, I only turned it northward. It was a gamble, not knowing quite where you’re going to come out, just as it’s a gamble to send you alone with only my shield to protect you from the magic. But I cannot tell what I do not know.”
He leaned towards the General, and though Wistern tried to draw back, further startled, Fae’s hand on his cheek prevented it.
“My intentions are honorable, warrior.” Fae offered a low rippling laugh. He finished the motion, pressing his lips to Wistern’s dirty, sweat-stained forehead. “May Amara Bless the Drakes, all the rest of their days, and guard them in all of their endeavors.”
He straightened and drew his hand back from Wistern’s face. His countenance darkened, the amusement and soft beauty replaced by a malignant shadow that turned even the black of his eyes to dead unresponsive holes. Wistern’s throat closed, his unbidden arousal at Fae’s irresistible presence fleeing in a heartbeat. For a moment, he was utterly convinced that Fae’s Masters had taken control of the Iisuliaev. But then the creature took a step back.
“I am your enemy from this moment forth, Wistern, Frontwind General of the Drakes.” Fae announced in a threatening murmur. “If you see me again, avoid my attention, or make first strike and cut off my head. But know that I am your enemy.”
“But,” Wistern intended to ask if there was a way that they might signal otherwise during an encounter.
“We are enemies henceforth, human.” Fae’s tone rose into a snarl. “Believe that! Your lives depend upon it!”
He lunged forward and shoved the Drake commander without hesitation, sending him sprawling into the gate and through it. Seconds later, the creation disintegrated entirely, the magics returning to their natural pathways. Afaelirian stood as long as he dared, filling his senses with what scent remained of the departed soldiers.
He prayed that he never saw any of them again, but commonsense inferred from the circumstances of his situation, that such was an empty hope. The Iisuliaev prayed that he could avoid committing further acts against his Mother, Amara. But that too was a pipe dream, for the Mother had Made him just so. And that Making was what bound him as he was.
Aiding the soldiers was a small thing, almost insignificant in the scheme of what was afoot. But it was something. Something, that in turn aided the Mother. Something that paid homage to Her while Fae was unable to otherwise acknowledge Her. It was small. But it was something.
Turning from the place, Fae took three steps before pain took him to his knees, the air pushed from his lungs with such force that blood vessels burst at the corners of his black eyes, flooding the orbs with a rich crimson.
“And what have you been getting into out here near the crossways, dancing on the edge of our perceptions?” The voice was one that Fae knew all too well, the voice of a Master.
Air finally trickled into his lungs again, but it’s relief was nullified by the burning throb that was slowly creeping through his senses, drowning out the night sounds.
“Of course you aren’t going to answer yet.” The Master sighed with feigned irritation. “But I will be told, one way or another. Follow.” He added the Command casually as he turned and left. A reminder.
His vision swirling red, Fae’s body obediently dragged itself upright and stumbled after the Master. He would save his strength for the questioning. His very Making dictated that he would eventually fail. But he would fight it. He would try. For Wistern and the Drakes, wherever his gate had sent them. For Amara. For anyone out there who was going to make a stand against the darkness he was being forced to serve. He would try.
As if hearing his thoughts, the Master laughed aloud.

The format might be strange, I had a bit of trouble posting…

[Reply]

By A. Grey on 05.08.09 12:56 pm | Permalink

Okay, so last sentence of the first paragraph should be “if his deeds were discovered.” not “of his deeds” I HATE posting with a typo. Especially in a contest! Not a terribly good first impression. >:{

[Reply]

By A. Grey on 05.08.09 2:40 pm | Permalink

Here is an ending scene for my WIP, A Crescent Moon, an adult fantasy. Enjoy!

*By the way I love all the other entries! There all different!*

“It hurts so much Leana.” The next sentence was the one I never wanted to hear, “Please kill me.”

Aires looked up at me and his eyes begged me to not listen to her demand. I could feel my eyes tear up because I can’t lose Valin not now, we had won, Miglett was dead so why was my dear friend dying before me and I could do nothing to help her.

I forgot I was holding Aires silver sword and then another idea came to me and this was my last resort to save her. I hoped in time she would forgive me.

“Raven!” I called out to him and the others looked at me with confusion as the bird flew and returned to its natural form, a cunning vampire.

“What can I do for you?” He asked, but he already knew what I wanted from him.

“Save her.” I pleaded.

“Why?” He asked with his dark intense eyes, clearly he was enjoying this with his small grin.

“Because if you don’t I’ll kill you.” I brought the silver sword to his throat and pressed it into his skin and I could see the metal singe into his pale flesh.

“Leana!” I heard Aires say to me, but I ignored him.

He flinched, “You don’t know if she wants this.”

“Do it!” I pressed the sword harder into his throat. In my mind he had five seconds to do it or I was going to kill him. I started to count inside my head. One. Two.

Raven opened his mouth and his fangs glistened in the dawning sunlight peering through the trees and slowly leaned in closer to Valin.

“Leana?” Valin managed to say, her eyes look horrified I was letting this happen to her. Alex and Aires could only watch what was about to happen.

“This is the only way.” I told her calmly.

Raven bit into her throat and she gasped for air with her hands wrenched the grass under her as he drank slowly from her throat and after a few seconds of drinking he finally had enough. He raised his neck up and looked at me, his mouth covered with her sweet, bright blood and I lowered the sword from his neck.

[Reply]

By Sara Tribble on 05.08.09 2:47 pm | Permalink