04.29.09

Welcome to #Firstpage

Posted in Tips at 1:50 am by racheludin

What this is about: Get other writers to crit your first pages.
How to Login
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LOGIN: tweetauthor
PW: vote4myquery

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06.18.09

Witch – alternate beginning

Posted in First Page tagged , , at 6:37 pm by queryvote

Okay. Second choice for beginning chapter. Which grabs you more? This one or the former post?

circa 1932 – Pacific Northwest. Seldom had Fiana been recognized for what she was so quickly. Typically when she met mortals, their reaction was awe tinged with a disquieting unease that they could not explain and generally suppressed. They only realized the full delicious horror if and when she chose to reveal her true self. Then it was generally too late for them to do anything besides involuntarily (and futilely) reaching up to protect their necks. Read the rest of this entry »

06.13.09

Life After Life (on Authonomy.com)

Posted in Uncategorized tagged , , , at 2:51 am by tweetauthor

PROLOG

LOOKING DOWN ON IT, she thought LandsEnd was aptly named.

Surrounded on three sides by forest, the large field of green grass dropped away on the fourth side in a sheer cliff, overlooking a sea of empty sky. In the warm breeze, the grass in the field waved like a river, flowing over the edge in a waterfall of air. Read the rest of this entry »

05.15.09

The first bit of the first chapter of Seeking the Frozen Throne

Posted in First Page tagged at 7:24 pm by tweetauthor

Here is bit 1 of my YA/adult fantasy crossover novel.  Please shred mercilessly.

Far more accustomed to a pitching ship’s deck than the saddle, the young rider was sore in ways he had never before experienced.  This barbaric northern climate was anything but comfortable, and he had been coughing and sneezing regularly now for a week, ever since he had started his ride from the port at Matha.
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04.29.09

Witch on the Water

Posted in First Page tagged , at 3:30 am by queryvote

Here are the first 1245 words of Witch on the Water. You can read & critique my query letter over at #queryvote.

Let me have it!

Northern California, 1860 –  Wesh-et-wah looked down at his blood-stained hands as he swept through the forest with his eight-year-old son. It was her blood. Their blood. The tears burning in his eyes did not cool his grief nor did they stay his stride. He needed to get away. Save his son. Read the rest of this entry »