Post the first three paragraphs of your novels!

sleepykuya 2023-09-30 19:54:30 UTC #239

Sure, I’ll post here! If you’re interested, please give THD a read!

The Village held an uncharacteristically chilled, dry air. It contrasted with the tropical weather of the islands found in the human realm.

In the world of the dead, a God and her disciple sparred, surrounded by half-rotten trees that withered with one incorrect look, and plum dirt the color akin to a graveyard. Thick purple leaves were stark against the brightened sky, supplying meager shade against the dead soil. Through the sounds of weapon against weapon, the woman taunted the man chasing her.

The Goddess, dressed in red and green brocade, deprived of her usual mask—perched on a loose branch somewhere from above. She plucked a dying, feathered leaf from its stem and blew it down to him.

ThunderChicken 2023-09-30 20:13:46 UTC #240

“Oh, shit!”, Daecon said aloud as he entered the curve. “Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!”
He punched the clutch, yanked the shifter from fourth into third gear, released the clutch again, and nailed the throttle, the rear end of his little red Boxster wagging a bit as the tires fought for traction. As he rocketed out of the turn he glanced in the rearview mirror and felt momentary relief when he saw nobody there.

That relief was short lived though, as the large Dodge pickup came flying around the turn behind him, its body leaning dangerously on its solid axles. As soon as the truck was through the turn a large cloud of black smoke came billowing out of its box-mounted smokestack and it started accelerating toward him at an almost unbelievable rate. The Porsche’s engine was singing at near redline, so Daecon stabbed the clutch again and grabbed fourth gear. He felt a surge of acceleration, but it was no use. The pickup behind him was gaining fast.

‘I’m never gonna outrun that thing on this road’, Daecon thought to himself. ‘I’ve got to out-manoeuvre it. But how? This highway is too damned straight. I need to get off it, and quick’. That thought was driven home when he glanced in the rearview mirror again and saw the big Dodge only a few car lengths behind him. He could hear its turbocharged Cummins engine howling with rage. He was looking for anything – a side road, a sharp exit ramp, even a tight turn that might buy him a little more distance on the truck, but nothing came. The truck was getting closer and closer, and impact was going to happen at any moment. Sure enough, Daecon heard a crunching sound from behind as he also felt a sudden surge of acceleration. The powerful truck was actually pushing him down the road faster than he could accelerate on his own. He felt the acceleration decrease suddenly, then heard another crunch and felt the push again. The maniac in the truck was toying with him, ramming the little roadster, then backing off, then ramming it again.

LWriter 2023-09-30 20:20:59 UTC #241

The door creaked as Sherry entered the store, the last and most illustrious one on Skye Street. It was right in the heart of the city, where most species would gather to shop and conduct business with each other. Only the best were even allowed to sell their stock here, and Orras’ Arms & Armor was the place to go if you want the finest craftsmanship of the dwarves.

This was her first stop upon arriving in the city, a calculated move she hoped would provide her a valuable ally, for she had few. It wasn’t hard to find, located next to the elvish high-end fashion Aphrodite boutique and across the popular Orc Cafe. The smell of linseed oil hit her as she made her way inside, past an elegant shelf full of all kinds of weapons; from silver long swords to jeweled daggers and broad axes, all polished to a gleaming finish.

A young dwarf approached her, dressed in the modern way with a suit and tie, but the runes of his clan adorned his lapel in silver. Sherry knew he was still in his first century by the length of his beard, a fun fact her father had told her about their kind. Only the real old ones grew it past their necks.

ThunderChicken 2023-09-30 20:21:48 UTC #242

It started during the summer of 1984. I was twelve years old – my 13th birthday would be in December. Puberty actually struck my friend Aiden first. He was a half a year older, and lived with his mother and his younger brother. His father was not in his life – I don’t think I can remember him ever being mentioned. Aiden was the first of any of us to hit puberty, and he wasted no opportunity to show it off. Literally. He would drop his pants to show off his hair down there with no prompting and no notice. He would also point out how big his “bulge” was. We thought it was ridiculously funny, of course, a bunch of preteen boys going through changes and laughing at each other. Still, for some reason, when he showed off his bulge or hair, something inside me compelled me to look. I didn’t know what it was, but it was there, deep inside me. I didn’t really think much about it at first, believing that these were normal things and that all young boys were like this.

Gradually, some of the other guys started going through changes. They weren’t as eager to show off as Aiden was, but they let us know that they, too were growing up. I was always paying attention now, always looking at my friends with both awe and jealousy. Their voices were growing deeper, and their bodies were filling out. I was always noticing things about them, and was becoming both jealous and alarmed – why was I so interested in looking at their bulges, and more importantly, why was I not “growing” myself? What was wrong with me? I would get my first clue one day while Aiden and I were walking behind the elementary school and we came across a fellow named Peter. We both knew him, and we both did not care for him. He was a year older than us, already in grade 8, and he was a showoff and bully to the smaller kids.

He was there with a young girl we both knew, and it was quite obvious that we had just caught them doing something they didn’t want to be caught doing. I say “obvious”, because you could see quite clearly that he was sporting wood. The tight pants that were in style in the early 1980’s left little to the imagination, and my imagination was running wild. I could not take my eyes off it. Unfortunately, he noticed me noticing.

king-goldfish 2023-10-01 00:29:23 UTC #243

Should I tell you that I’m going to die? Perhaps I had better not. I wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise. It’s not much of a surprise, though, is it? We’re all going to die—at least, we were, until recently. And if I have anything to say about it, we will again. Die, that is.

Oh, let me start over. Forget about death. Forget about everything.

Let me start from the beginning.

CarltonIsaac 2023-10-01 06:54:28 UTC #244

"Ironhand?" The dark haired man inquired
"Yes." She peered out the half open door.
“You are Uther Ironhand, the fabled blacksmith?” The incredulity in his tone of voice did not surprise her.
“He was my father, I am Ethel.” She replied impassively, ignoring the wide eyed look the man standing outside her door gave her. “I run the smithy now, but the hour is late and we are closed.”
“If you have half your legendary father’s skill, then I have come to the right place.” The man peered over her broad shoulder to get a look inside.

The man was as tall as she, slender of build and dressed in form fitting leather jerkin over a fine silk shirt, dark leggings and expensive leather boots. His moderately handsome face did little to impress her, finely groomed moustache or no. “I have heard much of Uther’s fame and am in need of a weapon of his workmanship.”

“I have all the skills my father taught me and more.” Ethel kept her voice cold, setting an errant strand of her long blonde hair back into place. “But we are closed for the day, old man... come back in the morning.”

willmarstudios 2023-10-05 19:04:41 UTC #245

It was cloudy today.

The usual colors of the city were washed over with shades of blue as Conri peered out the office window. The therapist's office matched the city's tone with its washed out grey walls and large faded brown desk that sat in front of matching cabinets. He sat across the desk in an arm chair that he moved closer to the window while his therapist sat at the desk scribbling away. The pen was off beat with the music he always listened to during his sessions; he had been allowed one ear bud given the agreement that it wouldn't completely distract him. It never did, in fact, it was one of the few reasons why he managed to focus at all. He had a playlist for nearly every sort of occasion in his life, including therapy, which he shared during one of his first sessions with Dr. Bromley.

Conri's therapist had finished and finally turned his attention back to his patient.

"Hope I didn't keep you waiting too long," he had learned that despite Conri's music, he didn't need to raise his voice too much. "so then what did you and the academic counselor talk about?"

"I explained what happened during the dinner, or at least what I could remember." Conri continued to stare out the window. "He wasn't phased as his job is basically educating those who want to study magic, but said that it was something that could be further studied if I applied to the academy. He then offered me a book from his personal library and that was it."

There is plenty more here...

zoleri 2023-10-10 15:24:42 UTC #246

If there was one thing in creation Zhisen could never mistake, it was the smell of blood. It was thin, but strong, like a shot of potent liquor. It was a dark scent, but the effect was light-headedness. It was coppery, but it was lead that sank into his gut and melted into the soles of his feet, chaining him to the spot. Maybe that ringing silence was more like numbness than shock.

If there was one emotion Zhisen could never discard, it was wrath. It was a quiet feeling, lurking beneath his false composure like a coiled serpent about to strike. It writhed, struggling and wrecking him from the inside, suppressed there, a choking fire. It was violent, polluting his dreams with slaughter, vengeance, and suffering. Maybe they were nightmares, not dreams.

If there was one sight in his life Zhisen could never forget, it was the charred corpse of his brother, Ziying. His half-brother. His half-. His friend. His mentor. His half-full cinerary urn. His last shred of sanity? No, Zhisen reminded himself every day that he hadn’t lost his mind, not yet. He didn’t have the time to break down pathetically. He didn’t have the tears to shed. He didn’t have anything in his veins but unquenchable fire. When he saw that charred corpse and he heard the empress shrieking and he saw Xiaobo doubling over and retching, Zhisen’s mind was quiet. It was the first and the last time in his life that his mind was so silent. For directly after that stillness, the storm rushed in.

Are you a fan of Machiavellian antiheroes, Han Dynasty and Mongolian aesthetics, swordfights, horses, high-stakes court politics, and romances that can only be summed by saying "it's complicated"? All of the above? Check out my Blue Eagle, Cricket Prince!

NetherSlayer 2023-10-11 06:05:45 UTC #247

Always feels odd to post without context, but that's the point, isn't it?

' “Well, if it isn't the Wolver Squad. I haven’t seen you in a minute, so first and foremost, a belated congratulations on making it to Knight Elite! You should all be proud of yourselves.”

A singular round of applause rang out from the computer terminal. The knight's amber-colored eyes hid behind wire-framed glasses and blended in with the rest of the screen, and the plume coming out of her Round Helm looked a bit faded. Kora, who we hadn’t seen in quite some time, had requested Zimthose, Lance, and I to be present for the mission briefing, likely just to formally congratulate us on our promotion. Balldrick had gathered with us in the Wolver Masters’ War Room, but stood leaning against the wall to give us the spotlight.

Zimthose gave an exaggerated bow while Lance gave an awkward salute that looked a lot like him rubbing his eye. '

tealeaf1619 2023-10-11 12:37:34 UTC #248

"My steady breathing deepens with each intake. Exhaling a stream of warm air bellowing out like the breath of a monster. It slides around me the only thing keeping my cheeks from losing feeling like the rest of my body has. I can't even touch the fiery power that use to dwell deep in the bit of my belly, it's too cold and getting colder by the second. Head bobbing, eyes flickering up and down, I can feel the sweet kiss of sleep. It's said that when freezing you warm up suddenly and pass out. I fear that the warmth is coming quicker than anticipated. Fighting hard against sleep, it's even more difficult since I'm numb with intense boredom. The endless days and nights have stopped, and there's no sensation of time passing me by. Just the freezing cold, and empty darkness.

Shifting my neck upwards, I can feel everything moving along with it. My back, legs, and arms all scream with the sudden shock of movement. Bones groaning and sliding painfully in their frozen joints. It feels unnatural like swimming through oil, not made any easier by the substance that has me trapped.

Bronze metallic brown wood shifts as I move, fleshy and bark-like, biting my flesh like thousands of ants. It groans a touch, then slips even further over my own skin, like a cursed armor. Unrelenting, and determined to absorb me.

The prison I find myself in has a name. We call it, The Tree of Life. It's a wickedly evil plant that has taken over most of my body. I can't feel my torso, or half my chest because of the liquidated solid bark."

Mansi_Gu 2023-10-16 21:08:51 UTC #249

"Ah!" gasped for air, sweat from head to toe.

The young man wiped the sweat drops off his forehead and sat, feeling his body heavy and numb not only by sleepiness but also by the horrible nightmare he had just watched in his sleep. The sun had already paid a visit on the bed, heating his bare feet and the comfortable sheets, plus a black cat that stretched the moment his legs moved and softly meowed.

“Morning… did you sleep well?” chuckled, taking the cat in his arms, which purred the moment the man caressed its ears. “I'm ok… you're very comfortable, aren't you?”

It started in a very domestic way lol. (o´▽`o)ﾉ

Title: Complex Love
Description: How to deal with a difficult person, especially when you're his assigned tutor? The answer is complex, just as the relationship formed between them. Behind Addai's smile, a volatile temper and dark secrets clouds his eyes, but his tutor Mine already has enough problems to deal with... or does life wants to give him more spices?
Genres: BL; romance; comedy
Status: Ongoing
Released every Wednesday

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Bishyantir 2023-10-16 21:10:21 UTC #250

"It's true," Ebony said, shrugging his sable shoulders. The black-scaled dragon narrowed his crimson eyes into glowing points. "Dertharion has betrayed us and made off with our most prized treasure."

"Noo..." Jet breathed softly. She bowed her head, her eyes filling with tears. "How could he..? After we took him in...treated him like one of us!"

Ebony looked down. He could find no words of comfort for his wife. He was just as stunned and horrified as she was. It had been three months since they'd taken the injured dragon into their hidden village. He'd come to accept Dertharion as one of them, one of the Charred. He'd been a fool, Ebony now realized bitterly. How had he not seen the evidence of Dertharion's treachery before now? Miniscule hints rose up from the depths of his mind to reproach him. When he'd shown Dertharion the ember of life, their most sacred treasure, he spotted greed in the dragon's eyes for a brief instant. But Ebony had pushed it away at the time, telling himself it was a natural response from any dragon. He closed his eyes. It was all his fault. Not only had he overlooked small instances of treacherous intent, but he had been the one to risk their safety as a tribe in the first place. When Dertharion, heavily bleeding and close to death, dragged himself into the small corner of the jungle they called home, he had been the one to suggest they help him. Ebony groaned. How could he ever look his fellow Charred in the face again?
Thanks for the opportunity!

BelleBriar 2023-10-16 21:24:55 UTC #251

I must have fallen so deep into the depths of despair that I imagined a murder of crows, and they're staring at me.

Talking to me.

Not in tongues or some insane, cryptic chanting that only I could magically decipher by a weird-ass-haunted mansion, but in the parking lot of La Cosmo. My work. Well, ex-work now.

Not exactly three paragraphs but oh well 🤷‍♀️🤣

Innocynce 2023-10-16 22:25:13 UTC #252

From my latest novel:

For the first time, scientists have detected a radio signal from outer space that repeats at regular intervals.

The series of "fast radio bursts" – short-lived pulses of radio waves that come from across the universe – were detected about once an hour for four days and then stopped, only to start up again 12 days later.

This continued for every 12 days afterwards, on cue; so much so that scientists have found a way to translate and learn what they mean.... According to NASA: the signal is an way someone's asking for permission to enter the Milky way. Apparently, we're the only intelligent life in this galaxy and therefore are seen as the dominant race.

WanderingPhoenix 2023-10-16 23:20:44 UTC #253

I love this idea! Here are the first three paragraphs of my two novels.

It had been snowing for a week.

A tall figure stood on the beach alone, holding an umbrella above his head to counter the wet snow. He stared out at the vast ocean before him with empty ice-blue eyes as the sun rose, casting a warm light countered by a cool wind.

Xiao Yi's lips trembled slightly against the chilly wind as he gazed at the calm waves. Memories surfaced that reminded him of an easier time, a familiar time with familiar people laughing in the waves.

"Get out! Once you leave that door you'll never see me or your children again!"

A familiar, yet unfamiliar mocking feminine laugh rang through the living room in response, reaching the staircase where four young boys stood.

The four brothers were on a mission; they would sneak downstairs and steal some ice cream without their parents noticing… That was the mission before they heard the fight, and they collectively came to a stop.

AnnonRaye 2023-10-18 07:24:06 UTC #254

This seems fun! Here's mine

Tonight, I shall meet my end. It’s said that when a child of royal birth reaches the age of seventeen, the age of adulthood, they leave their previous self behind to become the person fate destined them to be. But I already know what the stars have planned for me.

I am the eldest daughter of the great Pharaoh Cleo Philothea and the revered Pharaoh Antonius Marcellus, rulers of the ancient desert kingdom Kemet. From my birth, I have been destined to wed a foreign king and rule loyally over a vessel nation under my parents’ sovereign protection.

I am fated to be a devoted wife, perhaps a mother, and undoubtedly a wise queen. I know this as surely as I know myself to be blessed as a daughter of Kemet.

writerhongpao 2023-10-19 06:45:51 UTC #255

Great idea. Here are my opening 3 paragraphs:

It is the end of summer 2012 in North Korea. It's been more than half a year after the Great Leader died and was succeeded by his son, the Respected Comrade. Amidst all the turmoil and upheaval in the country, a family of four rehearses in a schoolroom in a small town near the border with China, brightly lit by the midday sun.

The mother, Han Da-som, sits at a piano with her six-year-old daughter, Song Hye-Jin, pressing the keys with her index finger and motioning to her daughter to follow her example. The father, Song Seul-ki, stands to the right of the piano with another daughter, Song Ha-neul, aged sixteen. They are both holding violins, Seul-ki mechanically plucking at the strings and tuning his, while Ha-neul glides the bow gently downward across the strings of her violin with her eyes closed, focused on the heavenly hum it's producing.

"Want to try a tune?" Seul-ki says, looking at his wife.

pppppiamo 2023-10-19 16:52:59 UTC #256

my first forum post (￣▽￣||) the below excerpt is from my comedic Christmas-themed BL novel

Chapter 1 - What do you mean I'm DEAD!?!?!!

December 1st. With temperatures steadily dropping, the puddles from last night’s rain had frozen over, leaving the roads slick with ice.

Of course, that wouldn’t stop a certain person from driving his electric-yellow Verrari Convertible 20 mph over the speed limit. Down Portugal Street, he merrily blew through a stop light. The intersection erupted into a symphony of furious honking, filling the air in the Verrari’s wake—but the car’s driver was in too good of a mood to care.

The reason for his good mood was simple.

the story is already complete. starting Nov 1st, I'll be counting down to Christmas with updates 3x week. if you end up liking the first two chapters, feel free to subscribe :3c

boundlessuniverse 2023-10-21 01:36:20 UTC #257

This is the three paragraphs...

In a small room with dim lighting, a young man is being slapped multiple times by his stocky fellow. The slap is very hard, causing the young man's lips to tear. Blood is poured from the torn lips. However, the stocky man is still eager to make him suffer, by beating him again, thus letting the young man lose his balance and then fall to the ground.

"Actually it's still not enough for you, you loser Lismesan! So don't lie down like a lump of filth, it makes me sick. Get up!"

The stocky man kicks his bullied fellow. Trying to ignore the pain he suffers, the young Lismesan man whose posture is much smaller than the stocky Jupitune man who bullies him now supports himself with great difficulty, then changes his position to kneel on all fours like a dog.

...

If you are interested with this novel, feel free to check it out:

blakestackman 2023-10-21 05:04:20 UTC #258

Elden, the founding and capital city of the Elden Empire, was a grandeur that stretched far and wide, reaching for the heavens with spires that scraped the clouds, and its foundations delved deep into the earth, whispering secrets from ages long past. It stood as a testament to the magnificence of the Elysian people, an ancient race that had called this ethereal city their home.
With their luminous white hair cascading like moonlight, their chestnut-hued skin possessing an otherworldly glow, and eyes the color of amethysts, the Elysian epitomized a beauty born from celestial origins. They possessed an innate wisdom that flowed through their veins, a profound connection to the arcane arts that ran deeper than the roots of the oldest trees.
Elysian were able to access this elemental magic through their reciprocate; known to them as Whisper-Moths, and were the source of their innate power. These ethereal creatures were no ordinary insects but rather mystical beings that encapsulated the essence of the Elysians' elemental magic.
From the moment of an Elysians' birth, a Whisper-Wyrm was called forth, their lives forever entwined. They were seen as the embodiment of an Elysian's soul, their luminous wings mirroring the light that resided within their Elysian counterparts. They were not merely pets or familiars, but spiritual partners, their bond as sacred as it was unique. They played an integral part of their people's identity, and were truly the heart and soul of the Elysian people.

Adult fiction, fantasy

Blurb
The fate of the world of Qwé hangs in the balance, ruled by a dark and corrupt empire that controls the exports and imports of slaves, and a valuable magical substance known as Pollenium.

A Rebel Alliance is forming in defiance against the empire, but will they be ready for what is to come?