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176
176
Review by Starling
Rated: 13+ | (3.0)
Title of Work: : An Encounter of the Fourth Kind
Author of Work: : Prosperous Snow (Neva)
Date: : July 2, 2016

Plot:
Margo is kidnapped and told it is now her job to take care of the two cats and any kittens they have

Scene/Setting:
Margo is enjoying her morning coffee when her cat decides he wants to go outside. Apparently the cat insists someone go with him while he does his business. She follows the cat out and while she is standing there a small grayish purple skinned creature starts to talk to her. She thinks it is one of the neighborhood children making a video, so she decides to play along. She answers the questions of the individual and then blacks out.

When she wakes she is in a windowless cell sitting on a cot, with her cat and another cat sitting beside her. The wall eventually slides open and one of the creatures, informs her that she is now in charge of making sure the two cats and any kittens are taken care of in the future.

Characters:
King Mongkut - a cat
Margo - a human; the cats owner
Queen Moxie Gore - a cat
2 three foot tale grayish purple skinned individuals with large eyes

Suggestions:
One small thing: The first sentence of the second paragraph is not a complete sentence.

I understand you are writing for a given prompt. Setting the prompt up as Newpaper headlines is a great way to tie it into the story. I had no problem following the story. The only thing I am concerned about is how relaxed Margo is when she wakes up and finds herself in the cell. I personally think I would be scarred and worried.

I know you are trying to tie in the fact the boy saw a new star and the fact the creatures took the cat, but I am having trouble tying the two things together. What does finding a new star have to do with taking the cat? ...... besides probably being a little dense here, I did enjoy the story.

Character Count: 1,587 (tags = 222 Characters)
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177
177
Review by Starling
Rated: 18+ | (3.0)
Title of Work: : Winter in Post Hole, Arizona
Author of Work: :Prosperous Snow (neva)
Date: : July 2, 2016

Plot:
Stella has been sent by her mother to visit her Great Aunt. The snow has gotten deep. The electricity has gone off and people are starting to arrive at the Aunts house

Scene/Setting:
Stella wants to go back to the Las Vegas, where there is a night life, her phones works and her computer will connect to the internet. She has been stuck visiting with her Great Aunt Lidia for over a month, after her mother sent her for a visit. When Stella wakes up from a nap, she finds the electricity has gone off, like her Great Aunt had said it would. People have also started to arrive for a party, like her Great Aunt said they would. We soon find out that one of the older gentlemen is actually a vampire, which Great Aunt Lidia prepares to take out of this world, if he decides to act on his inclinations.

Characters:
Stella Ambrose - visitor to Post Hole
Great Aunt Lidia Fightingbull
Sarah - neighbor arriving for party
Frederick Norris - vampire

Suggestions:
I liked this story. It is very subtly written. It gives the reader just enough information that they can come up with what could possibly happen as the party continues. We are led to believe not everyone knows Frederick is a vampire, which can make up wonder how or where he feeds. Post Hole is a very small town so I am thinking farms with cattle.

Character Count: 1,253 (tags = 222 Characters)
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178
178
Review of Gotta Sing  
Review by Starling
Rated: 18+ | N/A (Review only item.)
I really enjoyed this story. You have a definite way with words that paints a vivid picture of what is happening in the story.

The only thing I found confusing was on small place where, your character is in the room; then he is walking up the stairs to the room; then he is in the room again as if he never left.

**********
The music! A line or two from a forgotten ballad drummed away, just enough to bring aromas of remembrance floating upon my psyche. Then, as I embraced the tendrils of reminiscence, the music lurched to a new tune, jarring me to other memories. If only the tape player would finish even one song!

I needed to sleep. I was here in Mildenheath on business and must arise early tomorrow. I selected this inn hoping for a quiet, even boring, evening. The inn was so English in appearance as to be an archetype, something one would expect on a post card rather than in real life. Ivy crawled up the rough-hewn stone walls to the thatched roof and a refined garden of roses and lilac guarded the entry. A scarred tabby cat lolled on a chair in the entry hall, tail switching to and fro in her sleep. When I arrived, I paused and stroked her ears and she stretched in sinful pleasure, her eyes narrowing as she purred under my ministrations.

The innkeeper could have been the ancient mariner himself, wisps of gray hair floating across his skull and a sloppy shirttail exuding from beneath his ponderous belly. A web of fine, pink capillary lines peeked through gray and brown whiskers on his cheeks. His bulbous nose hung over his grinning mouth like a light bulb in a whore house. He wore a plastic tag that announced to the world that his name was Clyde; it had a ketchup stain on it. The faint smell of stout and hard labor clung to the air about him.

"How long will ye be stayin', Mister Crawford?" His voice had that sing-song lilt of the lower classes.
***************

This might just be the way I am reading it though.

Jane
179
179
Review by Starling
In affiliation with Cross Timbers Groups  
Rated: E | (3.5)
Plot:
Two young people take off from home at night and travel into the swamp looking for a creature called a Raugarou. This is a complete short story.

Scene/Setting:
Very late at night in a swamp, during the day in the swamp and then after dark on the second day.

Characters:
Benny
Jana
Raugarou
Benny's father
Jana's mother

Suggestions:
I am wondering if this is actually a tale told in the swamps and bayous or did you come up with the whole story yourself. I enjoyed the way you tied the idea it was Benny's father following them in the swamp, but didn't confirm the fact. Makes a good "just maybe" story that could be discussed by others. Check your spelling on the Raugarou, it is spelt several different ways in the story. If you are trying for a southern accent, then you have it just about pegged. If you are trying for a Louisiana Bayou type accent then there are some other words you could use. I definitely had an "ah, that's nice" feeling at the end of the story.

You told me when I reviewed Wisps that this is also a 2200 word story, but since I already checked it out and commented before you sent that information to me, I have reviewed it as if it will eventually be a fuller story.


Red = grammar mistakes
Green = Comments
Blue = suggestions

I hope I have been helpful. Any suggestions made are my own personal feelings. I am a beginning writer hoping to get better myself.

Raugarou

Benny was lying on the couch with his computer, exchanging instant messages with Jana. Apparently, Jana's mom thought her room was too messy. At least, she had a mom.

"What'cha doin' there, son?" His pa stepped into the family room, a paper in his hand. The light behind him made him look like a wild giant, especially with his long, shaggy hair and bushy beard.

"Nothin'."

"You seem to be doin' a lot of nothin' these days, and your grades show it." His pa waved the paper in the air. "You got an F in math."

His pa stepped closer, and Benny's heart twitched.

Glancing down at the computer, his pa said, "Seems to me you're spendin' a whole lot of time doin' nothin' with that thing." He pointed at it. "I think it's just about time you started doin' somethin'."

Benny instant messaged Meet me by the big tree with your backpack to Jana. Gotta go and laid his computer on the old coffee table.

His pa picked up Benny's computer.

"Hey, you can't do that!" Benny said.

Raising an eyebrow, his pa stood taller. "Son, now you know better than to tell me what I can and can't do."

Benny cringed. He didn't want to make his pa angry. He glanced at his pa's belt.

"Now, you get your lazy butt off that couch and into your room. I'll be up in a minute and take care of you.

Benny knew what that meant.

******************************


He slipped out his window and waited for Jana by the big tree, just past his pa's fields. He kept his headlamp turned off. He wanted to buy as much time as he could before his pa found him. Besides, the moon was almost full.

Jana appeared from the woods. "Good idea. I'm so tired of my mom yapping at me all the time. When she realizes I'm gone, maybe she'll get off my case. She doesn't live in my room, so why should she care if it's messy?"

Benny wiped sweat off his brow, "My pa's mad about my grades. I gotta get outta here."

He hiked his backpack higher and headed for the bayou.

"Where're we going?" Jana asked.

"Manchac Swamp."

"Why?"

"To find out if rougarous are real." And to stay away until Pa calmed down.

"What about alligators?" Jana asked.

"Don't worry. I got my gun," Benny patted his backpack.

"Do you believe in rougarous?"

"My grandpa used to say they're real." He turned his headlamp on.

Jana trudged behind him. "My grandmother says that if you look at a rougarou, you turn into one."

A mosquito buzzed around Benny's ear, and he swatted it.

"Benny!" his pa yelled.

Benny froze and glanced over his shoulder. His father was heading across the field – toward them.

"Hurry!" Benny started jogging.

"Wait for me!" Jana yelled.

Benny slapped a strand of Spanish moss out of his face.

"How far's your boat?" Jana huffed.

"Over there!" Benny pointed.

He held his boat steady while Jana crawled in. As soon as she was seated, he pushed off and started the outboard.

"Boy, get back here, son! Don't go bein' brainless on me. You don't wanna be out there with the rougarou, son." He held his hands to his mouth, shouting. "Come on back. We'll talk about it, son. I don't want no rougarou transformin' you."

Instead of turning back, Benny pushed the throttle higher, and the engine drowned out his pa's voice. His pa wanted him to take over the farm, and he didn't need to do math to farm sugarcane. Maybe he would just never come back.

He pushed the tiller, and the boat followed the curve of the stream. Light filtered down between the swaying moss. His pa's boat was out of gas, and by the time he could come after them, they would already be in Manchac Swamp. His grandpa said that's where the rougarou lived.

***********************************


Benny cut the motor, and as soon as he did, bog creatures filled the air with sound. Bull frogs croaked, and somewhere hidden in the trees, an owl screeched.

Jana peered overboard, shining her headlamp. Hundreds of gator eyes glowed back.

"They're a lot of alligators."

"Don't worry. I got my gun."

"But there are so many!" Jana rubbed her arms. "I've never been this far inside the swamp before."

"Don't worry," Benny said.

A splash made Jana jump.

Benny glanced around. Even with the full moon and their headlamps, it was still really dark.

'I didn't bring food," Jana said, scratching her knee.

"I got some." Benny headed for the bank. "And, I got my gun and my knife."

His grandpa had taught him how to hunt. They had so much fun together when he was still alive.

The boat hit the shore, and Benny crawled up front to get out. "Watch your step. There're gators here. Copperheads too."

Jana climbed out, and Benny tied the boat. He slid his backpack on and grabbed a heavy duffle bag in each hand.

Crickets argued. Benny thought he heard a wild boar snort in the bushes. They were dangerous. His heart pounded under his sweatshirt. He gulped, staring at the shadows. It was creepy out here. He glanced back at Jana. Her smile twitched. No matter what, he couldn't let her think he was afraid – and he wasn't afraid – just careful.

"I should have left a note," Jana said.

"Don't worry."

"She's going to be mad." Jana's shoe crunched a stick.

"Shh," he said.

"Why? Nobody's here."

Benny shook his head. "Don't forget the rougarou."

An eerie cry sliced through the swamp. He had never heard anything like it before. He stopped, and Jana bumped into him.

"Did you hear that?" Jana's voice quavered.

"It's the rougarou." Benny tried to keep his legs from shaking. "Let's camp here."

Jana scanned the darkness. "If you really believe in the rougarou, aren't you scared?"

"No." Benny pulled the tent out of the bag and lifted one of its poles. "Why should I be?"

Jana passed a hammer to him. "My grandma was afraid of them."

Benny raised his eyebrow and continued hammering the pole in.

"Grandma said it was a wolf-man. Big. Seven feet tall and three hundred pounds."

Somewhere in the darkness, a twig snapped. Benny drew his shoulders in and gripped the hammer.

Jana drove in a tent stake. "She said they can swim."

"My grandpa said that too. He said it was big and hairy."

"What else did he say?" Jana stared at him with huge eyes.

"He said salt kills it."

"Like holy water for vampires?" Jana asked. "Got any salt?"

Benny pointed to his bag. "Don't worry. The full moon isn't until tomorrow night."

With the tent ready, he made a fire and pulled out marshmallows.

Jana stuck one on the end of her skewer. "What else do you know about rougarous?"

Benny blew out the flames and stuffed the blackened blob into his mouth.

"Grandpa said if you look at one on the full moon, you become a rougarou and you lose your soul for 101 days."

"Why 101 days?" Jana bit into her marshmallow.

"That's what the legend says." Benny loaded his stick again and then concentrated on turning it over the flames.

Jana swallowed her marshmallow. "I don't believe they're real."

"I hope not."

************************************


The next morning, Benny was sitting by the campfire when Jana crawled out of the tent.

"Sleep well?" he asked.

"I tossed and turned and scratched all night. I hate bugs."

Benny chuckled. The mosquitoes had eaten him too.

Jana pointed to the spit. "What's that?"

"Armadillo."

She wrinkled her nose.

He laughed. "Don't worry. It's good."

After breakfast, she asked, "What now?"

"Let's explore."

This was much better than staying at home with his pa. Jana was such a cool girl.

*******************************


Night sound filled the swamp. Benny squatted, roasting the turtle he'd caught. It would make a tasty supper for him and Jana.

She sat across the campfire, rubbing her hands. "Want to hear a ghost story?"

"Sure."

"Heard of Julie White?

"She was a Creole voodoo priestess that lived around here about a hundred years ago. Everyone was scared of her. She liked to sit in her rocking chair and predict disasters. One day, she said,…" Jana glanced around her as if a ghost were nearby. "She said that when she died, everyone else would die too."

Benny used a stick to stoke the fire. "What happened?"

"They all died right after she did. They were digging her grave when a hurricane hit. Legend says that they're buried right here."

The wind gusted, rustling leaves.

"Boo!"

Jana almost jumped into the fire.

Benny laughed.

A scream shot through the trees, and he froze. So did Jana.

"It's that creature again," she whispered.

"The rougarou."

"It sounds close," Jana whimpered.

Benny peered through the darkness and then stood.

"It's the full moon." He pulled a sack out of one of his duffles duffels (spelling) and held it up. "Salt."

"Do you really believe that will help?"

"Grandpa said it would."

Jana shook her head. "I know that salt melts snails, (Is this a true fact? If yes where did you find it?) but a rougarou?"

Benny shrugged. "Maybe we won't need it."

He looked up at the moon, and somewhere from deep within the cypresses, the creature screamed again.

"I want to go home," Jana said.

“But we only camped one day.”

“I’m scared, Benny.” She stared at him popeyed. (I would say something like "She stared at him with eyes bigger then Benny had ever seen on any girl.")

I should have known better than to bring a girl. "If you want."

"Don't you want to go home too?"

Jana touched his arm, but he yanked his away. He could – if his pa wasn't mad anymore.

As if reading his thoughts, Jana said, "I can help you study. You'll do better, and then your dad won't be angry with you anymore."

Another scream echoed through the moonlit darkness. Jana squealed, and he crouched. What would his grandpa do? Trembling, Benny looked around.

The creature screeched again, and twigs snapped. It was coming!

Benny yanked his backpack on and grabbed the salt.

"Run!" He clasped Jana’s hand and dashed into the woods.

Branches scratched his face, and he let go of Jana’s hand. Which way did they come? The moon was too bright. He couldn't see the stars, and he'd lost his compass. A patch of black-blue peeked through the swaying moss. That's the way. A wild boar grunted in the shadows, and he changed direction. He tripped on a gnarled root, slamming his face on a rock. A branch snagged the bag of salt and wrenched it from his hand. The creature screamed again. Benny's heart threatened to burst. He glanced over his shoulder. Jana wasn't there!

"Jana!"

"Don't leave me!" Her voice seemed far away.

He turned around, his chest heaving. Which way now?

A splash came from the right. It The monster must be that way. He stumbled, his knee burning and blood dripping in his eyes. Just a few feet away. (This sentence doesn't make any sense, sounds like you are say the blood was dripping in Benny's eyes a few feet away.)

"Jana!"

The creature's wailing neared. Benny peered through the darkness. Maybe if he started the engine, Jana would know which way to come. (what happened to their headlamps?)

Diesel filled the air. (Diesel I think is the wrong word here. Since it would be a smell of the mixture of gas and oil, like a lawn mower, maybe you could say "burning gas fumes" or something along those lines.)

"Benny!"

Benny held his hand out for her.

She climbed in the boat (added words, I know it sounds like something small, but the way you have it written the story sounds like you are saying Jana climbed into Benny's hand) , crying. "It's after me!"

He pushed the boat out. A gust of wind slammed them. Thunder clashed. When they were in the middle of the stream, a soul-wrenching cry wailed from the shore.

A big hairy man-like creature stood in front of the cypress trees, the full moon shining behind it. It stared at them, its eyes glowing.

"It's the rougarou!" Jana pointed.

By the time he docked the boat, his teeth were chattering.

********************************


Benny trudged next to Jana, under through (you can't go under rain) the pouring rain, all the way to her house. With each step, he wondered what kind of mood his pa would be in when he arrived home.

Her mom opened the door. "Oh, Jana!"

Wearing dry clothes, he sat with Jana in her family room, telling her parents about the rougarou. The doorbell rang. He looked from Jana to her parents. Her mom answered the door.

Benny's pa stood there, soaking wet. He peered over Jana's mom's shoulder.

"Can I come in?"

Jana's mom moved aside. With the light behind him and his long hair and bushy beard, his pa looked just like the rougarou in the swamp.

"I been searchin' everywhere for you, son. You scared me." He wiped his nose with the back of his sleeve. "I thought I lost you." He stood there shaking. "I've come to take you home."

He held his arms out, his eyes red as the rougarou's. (you described the rougarou's eyes as glowing earlier, which made me think they were yellow points of light, which if it was Benny's father would have been right because the man would have also had on a headlamp. Now you are say they were red. I think this would be confusing to the reader.)

Benny, shaking, looked from Jana to her parents to his pa.

"Come here, son." His pa waved him forward. "I don't care about your grades, son. I'm just happy to have you home."

Benny ran into his pa's arms, and his pa squeezed him with a crushing hug. "Don't you ever leave me again, son. I love you."

Benny gazed up at his pa's eyes. He might not be perfect, but he was his pa. Benny hugged him back.

"I won't, Pa, and Jana's going to help me, so I'll get real good grades." He hugged his pa again. (not a new paragraph, Benny is still talking) "I love you too, pa."


*Gold* My review has been submitted for consideration in "Good Deeds Get CASH!.
180
180
Review of Wisps - Published  
Review by Starling
Rated: E | (4.0)
Plot:
Newlyweds are out for a sail and get blown onto a strange island by a storm.

Scene/Setting:
Small island somewhere in one of the oceans of the world.

Characters:
Ray
Tasha
Strange wisps of white in the form of snakes
Secondary: Disembodied voice, helicopter rescue unit

Suggestions:
This is a very interesting way to present an outline of the first chapter of a story, at least that is the way I feel about what you have written. I say outline because there is no depth to the story. Example: the young couple are caught up in a very bad storm on a small catamaran, but there is no real fear coming across. The characters feel like they are two-dimensional in a two-dimensional world.

The change between love, hate and love was clear. I also picked up on the fact they would be returning to the island, either because of a wisp who is still inhabiting either of their bodies or because they need to find some information. It is basically a well thought out set up.


Red = grammar mistakes
Green = Comments
Blue = suggestions

I hope I have been helpful. Any suggestions made are my own personal feelings. I am a beginning writer hoping to get better myself. I plan on keeping up with the story.

Wisps

The storm surged out of nowhere. Wind slapped the catamaran, and waves threatened to capsize it. (I would definitely state the size of the boat here. I try and never use the word "it" if I can find another way of describing what "it" is. This is just my thoughts though.) Ray rolled in the mainsail while his bride, Tasha, worked the jib.

He peered through the wall of warm rain, ("warm rain" denoting summertime and/or southern part of maybe Atlantic or Pacific?) trying to see where the rocks were, but salt stung his eyes, and the boat tossed too hard. You have left yourself a lot of leeway on describing what Ray does to try and save the boat. There are several good websites which describe what he would be trying if he was experienced. If he does not have much experience you will of course need to state that, so the reader will not think he is a complete idiot, getting far enough away from shore to be carried to an island far from where they started. Maybe the last thing Ray can remember is the tiller snapping in two.)

"Radio for help!" he yelled through the howling wind.

"Get inside!" Tasha shouted back.

***

He blinked, and the sun blinded him. A pounding ache tortured his head. Grunting, he pushed himself to a sitting position. Tasha, where was Tasha?

The light reflected off the white sand like a mirror. Coughing, he struggled to his feet. Storm litter covered the beach, including smashed boat parts. A palm frond lay across Tasha's chest.

He ran toward her. "Tasha! Are you okay?"

No. She couldn't be… He fell to his knees next to her body, and pulled a lock of sun-streaked hair from her cheeks. She grunted and coughed. She was alive!

"Sweetheart, are you all right?"

She batted her eyes, trying to focus on him. He held his breath, and she squeezed his hand. She was going to be okay. (wishful thinking on his part, knowing this from a squeeze of her hand?)

"Water," she croaked.

He looked around desperately. Something glinted in the sand.

"I'll be right back." He gently helped her sit up and ran down the beach, kicking off his remaining boat shoe.

It was a can of beer.

"Here." He pulled the ring tab.

"Thanks."

Tasha smiled that beautiful smile that always sent him to his knees. In all his life, he had never met anyone so honest, so kind, so gentle, so loving,… (take out the comma) He could go on forever singing her praises, and the girl married him. (If this part stays in the final re-do then I would place a period after "praises", then say something like "He had never been able to fully wrap his mind and heart around the fact the girl had married him.")

"You're my hero." She reached up and caressed his cheek. "How could I survive without you?"

She hadn't meant it literally, but he stared at a huge chunk of his boat's hull and swallowed. The first thing they needed to do was find water.

"Can you walk?" He held his hand out for her.

Standing, she wiped sand off her slender tanned legs. The most gorgeous legs he had ever seen. She was the best thing that had ever happened to him. Ray helped her brush it off her damp clothes and arms. (there is going to be a lot of sand on both of them. I'm getting the feeling they were ejected, from the boat as it hit shore.)

"With you, handsome, I can do anything."

He glanced at her feet. She, at least, had kept her topsiders.

He was thirsty too. "We need to find water."

She ran her fingers through her long blonde hair, scanning the beach. "Maybe we should check to see if there is anything else worth salvaging." (you are not going to get away from the fact that she is going to have sand in her long blonde hair, possibly caked there if they have been out long enough, something she should mentally at a minimum realize. As they walk and it dries she can be brushing it out.)

He had forgotten to add smart to his list. "Good idea."

Within minutes, they found two beach towels and a small pot with a handle.

"Looks like we're rich." She smiled up at him.

He bent over and kissed her, and his body sparked. No one had ever been able to make him feel the way she did.

"Listen, lover-boy, I think we better find that water."

Did he say, and self-disciplined too?

"Yes, ma'am."

He grinned and took her hand, leading her into the trees. The bundle made from one of the towels, holding the pot, the other towel and empty beer can hung over his shoulder.

***

With each step he took, his feet hurt a bit more. They were bleeding from stepping on jagged rocks and gnarled tree roots, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was taking care of Tasha.

"Ray?"

"Yes?"

"Something feels wrong." She squeezed his hand.

He felt it too, but he didn't want to scare her. "Don't worry. All we need to do is find water."

She didn't say anything else. He knew she was thirsty. She had to be. Even in the shade, it was scorching hot. Still, she didn't ask for anything to drink. They had only found the one can. He had given her most of it, only taking a sip.

"Listen." She stopped and cocked her head.

Colored birds twittered. That surely meant that there was water somewhere.

"Do you hear it?"

"The birds?"

"No. There's a waterfall up ahead."

He heard it too. "Did I ever tell you that you're the best thing that ever happened to me?"

Her blue eyes sparkled. "Every day, husband." She stepped on her tiptoes and kissed him. "And, don't you forget it." She flicked the tip of his nose.

He bent down to kiss her, but she twisted away and marched off toward the falls, her hips swinging in the cutest sort of way.

Just before they arrived, she stopped short. "Do you feel it?"

A shiver of unease shimmied up his leg. He swallowed and peered around them. It looked like a tropical paradise – the perfect place to take his bride for their honeymoon – except that they were marooned. Yet something eerie floated on the torrid breeze.

"It looks like paradise to me."

"No. Something's wrong."

The breeze picked up, shaking the ferns. It whistled through the trees.

"It sounds like a voice," she said. "Do you hear it?"

He had to admit it. It did sound like a voice.

Sweat poured from under his arms.

"Can you hear what she's saying?" She. It sounded like a she, he thought.

"It sounds like…Beware…Beware the wisps." Tasha stared at him, the whites of her eyes big.

He had never seen her frightened in all the five years they had been together. His heart slipped down to his stomach. She was his rock. She couldn't lose it.

"It's just the wind," he said, but he had heard it too.

He was her husband. It was his job to protect her.

"Wait here, I'll go first."

She gaped at him. "Are you out of your mind? You're not leaving me."

He grinned. He didn't intend to ever leave her.

Holding her hand, his grin slipped away, and he stepped through the foliage, toward the tinkling cascade. With each step he took, his apprehension grew.

Finally, they stood next to the pool at the foot of the waterfall. It was the most inviting place he had ever been.

She reached inside the bundle and pulled out the pot.

"I'm so thirsty." She dipped it in the water and tipped it. "Good."

She passed it to him. It was the sweetest water he had ever tasted.

His fear faded. "Want to swim?"

"Skinny dip?"

He couldn't take his t-shirt and shorts off fast enough. He dove in and then watched her.

Tasha had the body of a Greek goddess, and she was the most beautiful when naked. She raised her arms and dove or slowly slipped (if she raised her arms I am thinking dove, but she could have also slipped in by sitting on the edge of the pool of water and sliding in) into the cool water.

He kicked through the water and grabbed her. She giggled, and they kissed and drank until exhausted.

"I think I could use one of those towels now." She swam toward the bank.

Above, the sunlight began to fade.

"We need to find a place to sleep," she said.

He looked around. They didn't have anything to make a fire. At least, it wasn't cold.

"Look." She pointed above the cascade to the right. "Is that a cave?"

She didn't wait for his answer and started climbing up the rock face.

His feet weren't bleeding anymore since they went swimming, but they were still tender. He followed behind her, feeling guilty. He should be the leader.

After making love on the floor of the cave, he wrapped his arm over her back. He loved when she cuddled close to him. Sleep was falling on him when he heard it again.

"Beware the wisps." The breezy voice warned.

Tasha's breaths came and went peacefully, but he stared out toward the sky. He needed to find out who was trying to scare them.

Gently slipping away from Tasha's warmth, he headed for the pool. He climbed down and sat on a boulder near the water's edge.

Wisps of white mist swirled up from the water. First one, then an army of curling snakes floated up. He didn't know whether to investigate further or retreat to make sure that Tasha was okay. Before he could decide, a floating ribbon swam through the air toward him. He opened his mouth to scream, and the wisp dove inside. He swallowed, his heart galloping.

Wisp after slithering wisp emerged from the water and crowded the air with white mist, shooting in all directions like pallid fireworks. (I like this verbiage) Then they stopped. They all disappeared at once.

Ray gaped around him, bewildered. What had just happened?

After a minute, his pulse lowered to normal, and he could breathe regularly again. Exhaling. He rose and headed back to the cave.

He needed to check whether Tasha was okay. If she wasn't, he would be the first to know.

Climbing back up, he stepped on a sharp rock. "Crap."

If she hadn't been in such a hurry to get married, they wouldn't have been caught in that frigging storm.

She lay on the towel, snoring. She snored like a diesel engine, noisy and stinky. Saliva drooled from her mouth like a frigging dog. He wrinkled his nose. How had he ever found her attractive?

He pushed her with his foot. "Wake up."

She looked at him and snarled. "Don't tell me what to do."

"Get up. We need to get to the beach." Stupid blonde. "We need to be there in case someone comes."

"No one is coming at night. What kind of idiot are you?" She rolled over ignoring him.

He wanted to slap her, but she was right. If he walked through those woods, he would probably cut his feet even worse. He glanced at her shoes. She had probably hidden his. It would be just like her.

Translucent hissing white snakes speared his sleep. Again and again, he woke sweating, only to fall asleep again.

Cold water splashed his face, runneling funneling (spelling) down his throat. He choked and blinked up at Tasha.

She stood there with the pot in her hand. Snarling at him. "Why are you still asleep? I thought you were in a hurry to leave."

He jumped to his feet. "Get out of my way."

He would show her. The selfish brat could rot in the cave if she couldn't keep up with him. He leapt across the boulders, three at a time. All of a sudden, a spearing pain pieced his foot, and he fell to a sitting position.

Tasha fleeted by. "Ta, ta."

She waved, and he shot her a bird. Swallowing his pain, he stood and hop-walked down to the water's edge. (thought they were on a side of a rook cliff. He may have hopped down, but I think "walked" is the wrong word here) To his surprise, she was waiting for him.

"I know you and your lawyer ways." She held her hand out for him. "I'm not giving you anything to use against me in a court of law. Let it be known that I waited for your stupid self when I could have already made it to the beach."

He slapped her hand aside. No way would he give her the pleasure of being the stronger one.

She marched ahead of him singing. If she weren't so far ahead, he would smack her. She knew he hated that song.

The ugly wench swung her skinny butt as if she actually thought he could find it attractive. Really.

She pushed a branch out of the way and let it go, timing it so that it would slap him in the face. "What's wrong, creep, your feet hurt? You shouldn't be such a slob. If you hadn't lost your shoe, you wouldn't be hobbling like an old man."

His face burned, and he tried to catch up so that he could yank her hair, but the wench was too fast. He looked down at his foot. It was swollen. She could have waited long enough for him to wash it before running off into the woods, but no, she didn't frigging care about him. The first thing he was going to do when they got home was annul the marriage. That way, he could forget that he ever saw her.

He could barely walk anymore by the time they reached the beach.

She lifted the beer can, apparently filled with water, in a cheer. "This is your side of the beach."

After strutting halfway across the beach, she drew a line in the sand with her foot. "Stay on your side."

He collapsed in the shade of a tree, his foot throbbing. If he didn't get antibiotics soon, his foot was going to be in big trouble. Pus already streamed from various cuts, and the other one wasn't much better.

Night came, and he passed out, shivering.

***

He opened his eyes. A big black man was shaking him. "You need to wake up."

Ray shook his head. He couldn't remember where he was.

Another man came and helped the black one shift him onto a stretcher.

When he opened his eyes again, he heard the chopper blades chop, chop, chopping through the air.

Tasha caressed his cheek. "Are you okay, babe?"

She had stayed by his side. He blinked and looked around him. Outside the rising helicopter the island was getting smaller and smaller.

"Don't worry, babe. They're taking us away from that horrid place, and we'll never come back again."

Still groggy, he clasped her hand. She was his rock, his beautiful bride.


*Gold* My review has been submitted for consideration in "Good Deeds Get CASH!.
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Review by Starling
Rated: 13+ | (2.5)
Suggestions:
First the Vignette part of the assignment was to be one thousand to three thousand words, yours was 263. You give excellent detail in what Payton looks like and what her likes and dislikes are. I also have picked up on the back-story... Payton is a stay at home mom, caught in what she thinks is a boring life. Her life consists of taking care of her husband and loving her daughter. Perry, Instructor said to ... " Show both the problem the CC faces as well as his/her wants, needs, and/or desires. Frustration creates dramatic energy, an unstoppable emotion, a compelling inner need"... I get no sense of a problem she might be facing in the future.


Red = grammar mistakes
Green = Comments
Blue = suggestions

I hope I have been helpful. Any suggestions made are my own personal feelings. I am a beginning writer hoping to get better myself. I plan on keeping up with the story.


Name: Payton Bevel
Age: 31
Location: Colorado
Family History: Grew up with her parents and sister. Now living with her husband and daughter.
Career aspirations: Stay at home mom
Race: White
Features: Shoulder length dingy blonde hair, small nose, light blue eyes, light complexion oval shaped face, average body type, scar on left side of chin.
Appearance: Wearing a light blue blouse, blue jeans, fuzzy black socks, a black winter coat with a fur hood a darker shade of blue for her hat, gloves, and scarf.
Likes: The sweet scent of flowers, fruit, perfume, books, favorite dish to make lasagna, favorite color light blue.
Dislikes: Winter, reading the newspaper, sports, people who are mean.
Physical condition: She was mostly slender, flat stomach 5’7 weight 128
Ailments: None
Education: High school never made it to college.
Socioeconomic background: Middle class
Parents: Ellen and Charlie Daby
Siblings: One younger sister Megan Daby
Ambition: To raise her daughter to be a loving caring person.
Hobbies: Crafting, reading, and cooking.
Significant Others: Michael Bevel Married 14 years husband is an electrician.
Intelligence: Good
Emotional Stability: Stable
Flaws: Weak knees, stubborn when it came to change.
Other Traits: Had an amazing smile. Had a keen scent of smell. She was strong willed and determined when it came to her daughter.
Pivotal events in life: Finished high school, moved out of parents into her own apartment. Meet and married husband Michael and gave birth to her daughter Maple. (slight timing problem, I think. Most people finish high school when they are 18. You have her finishing high school, moving into her own apartment and then meeting and marrying Michael when she was 17 [she is 31 minus the 14 years she has been married equals 17 when she married]. If you were to make her 18 when she graduated plus 1 year to meet and marry Michael plus 14 years of marriage, then Payton would be a minimum of 33 years old. This might work a little better for you.)
Favorite foods: Pizza, pop and pickles
Favorite music: Rock and classical
Favorite reading material: Romance novels and beauty magazines.
Religion: None but did believe there was something out there.
Personality: Friendly but skittish toward new people
Habits: Snapping her fingers at someone to get their attention or when she was mad.
Favorite thing to do: Watch her daughter play
Comfort level with opposite sex: fifty percent
Things he/she takes pride in: Her crafting and house cleaning skills.
Things that bother him/her: Bugs, any kind would freak her out.
Things that make him/her laugh: Her daughter, funny jokes.
Speech patterns: Clear

Prose Synopsis of the Central Character: (263 words)

Payton Bevel is a stay at home mom who is overjoyed to have her family close by her side. Her small nose she feels is her best feature and although she dislikes her dingy blonde hair she still manages to try and make it look decent. Being married fourthteen fourteen (spelling)years to her husband Michael as has (spelling) put them in a rut. Reading the newspaper and sports were not for her, but most of all she really disliked the winter season.

Living in Colorado with the snowy mountains could sometimes be difficult. Payton really had a keen scent sense (wrong word) of smell. She loved the sweet scent of flowers and the citrus smell of fruit. Perfume was her favorite (I know there should be some form of punctuation here, not sure if it should be just a comma or if you should be starting a new sentence, hopefully someone else knows.) all the different kinds (a comma should go here) each one with its own aroma.

Finishing high school was an achievement since her parents never did. Although college (a comma should go here) she had once seen in her future (a comma should go here) was now a distant memory. Bugs really made her flip out, but her daughter Maple always made her laugh. (Bugs and her daughter are two totally different ideas so this should be two different sentences.) She was mostly friendly but found that she would snap her fingers at someone when she was frustrated.

Payton thought she was average looking. Sometimes longing for rosier cheeks made her wish she had gotten that quality from her mom. Many people had told her she had amazing smile, but she couldn’t see it with such thin lips she had.

Sometimes she was stubborn. She was determined and strong willed when it came to her daughter. Maple made Payton’s life worthwhile. She would do anything to protect her from harm.

A tragedy strikes and Payton must save her daughter.
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Review of Wisps - Published  
Review by Starling
In affiliation with Cross Timbers Groups  
Rated: E | (3.5)
Plot:
Newlyweds are out for a sail and get blown onto a strange island by a storm.

Scene/Setting:
Small island somewhere in one of the oceans of the world.

Characters:
Ray
Tasha
Strange wisps of white in the form of snakes
Secondary: Disembodied voice, helicopter rescue unit

Suggestions:
This is a very interesting way to present an outline of the first chapter of a story, at least that is the way I feel about what you have written. I say outline because there is no depth to the story. Example: the young couple are caught up in a very bad storm on a small catamaran, but there is no real fear coming across. The characters feel like they are two-dimensional in a two-dimensional world.

The change between love, hate and love was clear. I also picked up on the fact they would be returning to the island, either because of a wisp who is still inhabiting either of their bodies or because they need to find some information. It is basically a well thought out set up.


Red = grammar mistakes
Green = Comments
Blue = suggestions

I hope I have been helpful. Any suggestions made are my own personal feelings. I am a beginning writer hoping to get better myself. I plan on keeping up with the story.

Wisps

The storm surged out of nowhere. Wind slapped the catamaran, and waves threatened to capsize it. (I would definitely state the size of the boat here. I try and never use the word "it" if I can find another way of describing what "it" is. This is just my thoughts though.) Ray rolled in the mainsail while his bride, Tasha, worked the jib.

He peered through the wall of warm rain, ("warm rain" denoting summertime and/or southern part of maybe Atlantic or Pacific?) trying to see where the rocks were, but salt stung his eyes, and the boat tossed too hard. You have left yourself a lot of leeway on describing what Ray does to try and save the boat. There are several good websites which describe what he would be trying if he was experienced. If he does not have much experience you will of course need to state that, so the reader will not think he is a complete idiot, getting far enough away from shore to be carried to an island far from where they started. Maybe the last thing Ray can remember is the tiller snapping in two.)

"Radio for help!" he yelled through the howling wind.

"Get inside!" Tasha shouted back.

***

He blinked, and the sun blinded him. A pounding ache tortured his head. Grunting, he pushed himself to a sitting position. Tasha, where was Tasha?

The light reflected off the white sand like a mirror. Coughing, he struggled to his feet. Storm litter covered the beach, including smashed boat parts. A palm frond lay across Tasha's chest.

He ran toward her. "Tasha! Are you okay?"

No. She couldn't be… He fell to his knees next to her body, and pulled a lock of sun-streaked hair from her cheeks. She grunted and coughed. She was alive!

"Sweetheart, are you all right?"

She batted her eyes, trying to focus on him. He held his breath, and she squeezed his hand. She was going to be okay. (wishful thinking on his part, knowing this from a squeeze of her hand?)

"Water," she croaked.

He looked around desperately. Something glinted in the sand.

"I'll be right back." He gently helped her sit up and ran down the beach, kicking off his remaining boat shoe.

It was a can of beer.

"Here." He pulled the ring tab.

"Thanks."

Tasha smiled that beautiful smile that always sent him to his knees. In all his life, he had never met anyone so honest, so kind, so gentle, so loving,… (take out the comma) He could go on forever singing her praises, and the girl married him. (If this part stays in the final re-do then I would place a period after "praises", then say something like "He had never been able to fully wrap his mind and heart around the fact the girl had married him.")

"You're my hero." She reached up and caressed his cheek. "How could I survive without you?"

She hadn't meant it literally, but he stared at a huge chunk of his boat's hull and swallowed. The first thing they needed to do was find water.

"Can you walk?" He held his hand out for her.

Standing, she wiped sand off her slender tanned legs. The most gorgeous legs he had ever seen. She was the best thing that had ever happened to him. Ray helped her brush it off her damp clothes and arms. (there is going to be a lot of sand on both of them. I'm getting the feeling they were ejected, from the boat as it hit shore.)

"With you, handsome, I can do anything."

He glanced at her feet. She, at least, had kept her topsiders.

He was thirsty too. "We need to find water."

She ran her fingers through her long blonde hair, scanning the beach. "Maybe we should check to see if there is anything else worth salvaging." (you are not going to get away from the fact that she is going to have sand in her long blonde hair, possibly caked there if they have been out long enough, something she should mentally at a minimum realize. As they walk and it dries she can be brushing it out.)

He had forgotten to add smart to his list. "Good idea."

Within minutes, they found two beach towels and a small pot with a handle.

"Looks like we're rich." She smiled up at him.

He bent over and kissed her, and his body sparked. No one had ever been able to make him feel the way she did.

"Listen, lover-boy, I think we better find that water."

Did he say, and self-disciplined too?

"Yes, ma'am."

He grinned and took her hand, leading her into the trees. The bundle made from one of the towels, holding the pot, the other towel and empty beer can hung over his shoulder.

***

With each step he took, his feet hurt a bit more. They were bleeding from stepping on jagged rocks and gnarled tree roots, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was taking care of Tasha.

"Ray?"

"Yes?"

"Something feels wrong." She squeezed his hand.

He felt it too, but he didn't want to scare her. "Don't worry. All we need to do is find water."

She didn't say anything else. He knew she was thirsty. She had to be. Even in the shade, it was scorching hot. Still, she didn't ask for anything to drink. They had only found the one can. He had given her most of it, only taking a sip.

"Listen." She stopped and cocked her head.

Colored birds twittered. That surely meant that there was water somewhere.

"Do you hear it?"

"The birds?"

"No. There's a waterfall up ahead."

He heard it too. "Did I ever tell you that you're the best thing that ever happened to me?"

Her blue eyes sparkled. "Every day, husband." She stepped on her tiptoes and kissed him. "And, don't you forget it." She flicked the tip of his nose.

He bent down to kiss her, but she twisted away and marched off toward the falls, her hips swinging in the cutest sort of way.

Just before they arrived, she stopped short. "Do you feel it?"

A shiver of unease shimmied up his leg. He swallowed and peered around them. It looked like a tropical paradise – the perfect place to take his bride for their honeymoon – except that they were marooned. Yet something eerie floated on the torrid breeze.

"It looks like paradise to me."

"No. Something's wrong."

The breeze picked up, shaking the ferns. It whistled through the trees.

"It sounds like a voice," she said. "Do you hear it?"

He had to admit it. It did sound like a voice.

Sweat poured from under his arms.

"Can you hear what she's saying?" She. It sounded like a she, he thought.

"It sounds like…Beware…Beware the wisps." Tasha stared at him, the whites of her eyes big.

He had never seen her frightened in all the five years they had been together. His heart slipped down to his stomach. She was his rock. She couldn't lose it.

"It's just the wind," he said, but he had heard it too.

He was her husband. It was his job to protect her.

"Wait here, I'll go first."

She gaped at him. "Are you out of your mind? You're not leaving me."

He grinned. He didn't intend to ever leave her.

Holding her hand, his grin slipped away, and he stepped through the foliage, toward the tinkling cascade. With each step he took, his apprehension grew.

Finally, they stood next to the pool at the foot of the waterfall. It was the most inviting place he had ever been.

She reached inside the bundle and pulled out the pot.

"I'm so thirsty." She dipped it in the water and tipped it. "Good."

She passed it to him. It was the sweetest water he had ever tasted.

His fear faded. "Want to swim?"

"Skinny dip?"

He couldn't take his t-shirt and shorts off fast enough. He dove in and then watched her.

Tasha had the body of a Greek goddess, and she was the most beautiful when naked. She raised her arms and dove or slowly slipped (if she raised her arms I am thinking dove, but she could have also slipped in by sitting on the edge of the pool of water and sliding in) [/C} into the cool water.

He kicked through the water and grabbed her. She giggled, and they kissed and drank until exhausted.

"I think I could use one of those towels now." She swam toward the bank.

Above, the sunlight began to fade.

"We need to find a place to sleep," she said.

He looked around. They didn't have anything to make a fire. At least, it wasn't cold.

"Look." She pointed above the cascade to the right. "Is that a cave?"

She didn't wait for his answer and started climbing up the rock face.

His feet weren't bleeding anymore since they went swimming, but they were still tender. He followed behind her, feeling guilty. He should be the leader.

After making love on the floor of the cave, he wrapped his arm over her back. He loved when she cuddled close to him. Sleep was falling on him when he heard it again.

"Beware the wisps." The breezy voice warned.

Tasha's breaths came and went peacefully, but he stared out toward the sky. He needed to find out who was trying to scare them.

Gently slipping away from Tasha's warmth, he headed for the pool. He climbed down and sat on a boulder near the water's edge.

Wisps of white mist swirled up from the water. First one, then an army of curling snakes floated up. He didn't know whether to investigate further or retreat to make sure that Tasha was okay. Before he could decide, a floating ribbon swam through the air toward him. He opened his mouth to scream, and the wisp dove inside. He swallowed, his heart galloping.

Wisp after slithering wisp emerged from the water and crowded the air with white mist, shooting in all directions like pallid fireworks. (I like this verbiage) Then they stopped. They all disappeared at once.

Ray gaped around him, bewildered. What had just happened?

After a minute, his pulse lowered to normal, and he could breathe regularly again. Exhaling. He rose and headed back to the cave.

He needed to check whether Tasha was okay. If she wasn't, he would be the first to know.

Climbing back up, he stepped on a sharp rock. "Crap."

If she hadn't been in such a hurry to get married, they wouldn't have been caught in that frigging storm.

She lay on the towel, snoring. She snored like a diesel engine, noisy and stinky. Saliva drooled from her mouth like a frigging dog. He wrinkled his nose. How had he ever found her attractive?

He pushed her with his foot. "Wake up."

She looked at him and snarled. "Don't tell me what to do."

"Get up. We need to get to the beach." Stupid blonde. "We need to be there in case someone comes."

"No one is coming at night. What kind of idiot are you?" She rolled over ignoring him.

He wanted to slap her, but she was right. If he walked through those woods, he would probably cut his feet even worse. He glanced at her shoes. She had probably hidden his. It would be just like her.

Translucent hissing white snakes speared his sleep. Again and again, he woke sweating, only to fall asleep again.

Cold water splashed his face, runneling funneling (spelling) down his throat. He choked and blinked up at Tasha.

She stood there with the pot in her hand. Snarling at him. "Why are you still asleep? I thought you were in a hurry to leave."

He jumped to his feet. "Get out of my way."

He would show her. The selfish brat could rot in the cave if she couldn't keep up with him. He leapt across the boulders, three at a time. All of a sudden, a spearing pain pieced his foot, and he fell to a sitting position.

Tasha fleeted by. "Ta, ta."

She waved, and he shot her a bird. Swallowing his pain, he stood and hop-walked down to the water's edge. (thought they were on a side of a rook cliff. He may have hopped down, but I think "walked" is the wrong word here) To his surprise, she was waiting for him.

"I know you and your lawyer ways." She held her hand out for him. "I'm not giving you anything to use against me in a court of law. Let it be known that I waited for your stupid self when I could have already made it to the beach."

He slapped her hand aside. No way would he give her the pleasure of being the stronger one.

She marched ahead of him singing. If she weren't so far ahead, he would smack her. She knew he hated that song.

The ugly wench swung her skinny butt as if she actually thought he could find it attractive. Really.

She pushed a branch out of the way and let it go, timing it so that it would slap him in the face. "What's wrong, creep, your feet hurt? You shouldn't be such a slob. If you hadn't lost your shoe, you wouldn't be hobbling like an old man."

His face burned, and he tried to catch up so that he could yank her hair, but the wench was too fast. He looked down at his foot. It was swollen. She could have waited long enough for him to wash it before running off into the woods, but no, she didn't frigging care about him. The first thing he was going to do when they got home was annul the marriage. That way, he could forget that he ever saw her.

He could barely walk anymore by the time they reached the beach.

She lifted the beer can, apparently filled with water, in a cheer. "This is your side of the beach."

After strutting halfway across the beach, she drew a line in the sand with her foot. "Stay on your side."

He collapsed in the shade of a tree, his foot throbbing. If he didn't get antibiotics soon, his foot was going to be in big trouble. Pus already streamed from various cuts, and the other one wasn't much better.

Night came, and he passed out, shivering.

***

He opened his eyes. A big black man was shaking him. "You need to wake up."

Ray shook his head. He couldn't remember where he was.

Another man came and helped the black one shift him onto a stretcher.

When he opened his eyes again, he heard the chopper blades chop, chop, chopping through the air.

Tasha caressed his cheek. "Are you okay, babe?"

She had stayed by his side. He blinked and looked around him. Outside the rising helicopter the island was getting smaller and smaller.

"Don't worry, babe. They're taking us away from that horrid place, and we'll never come back again."

Still groggy, he clasped her hand. She was his rock, his beautiful bride.


*Gold* My review has been submitted for consideration in "Good Deeds Get CASH!.
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Review by Starling
Rated: E | (4.0)
Plot:
Man's camera is stollen and he is blackmailed to get it back.

Scene/Setting:
Man's house then the park.

Characters:
Man
Small boy
Woman

Suggestions:
The way the three words are highlighted, I know you wrote this for one of the contests. It is well written, but I was tired when I first read through it and had to read it twice before I figured out the man gave the boy a new camera and told him to take a picture of whoever took the envelope out of the tree. He never expected to get his old camera back, so he must be able to replace the pics he took with it. I enjoyed the short story.

Red = grammar mistakes
Green = Comments
Blue = suggestions

I hope I have been helpful. Any suggestions made are my own personal feelings. I am a beginning writer hoping to get better myself. I plan on keeping up with the story.

He opened the cabinet to retrieve his camera but it wasn't there. (In the end you state it was his ex girlfriend who stold the camera. If he is just missing it, I take it for granted they haven't been broken up for say a day or two. A good PI would use his camera almost every day.) In its place was a note. "If you want to see your camera again, put five hundred dollars in an envelope and go to the park. Your next message will be inside the crevice of the seventh tree from the entrance."

The camera held some important shots of a case he was working on. This probably had something to do with that case. "What to do?" he drummed his fingers on the kitchen counter. (suggested addition of words). He wondered. He hadn't downloaded any of the pictures yet. It didn't take long before a smile worked its way across his face. (Suggested addition of words)

Once at the park with the envelope he counted the trees and found the next message. (not a new paragraph) "Place the money back into this tree and go to the basketball court on the other side of the lake. Once the money is retrieved you'll get your camera." (I would idealize this sentence to denote it is a written note)

He placed an envelope into the tree and made his way to the basketball court. He wasn't there long when a boy walked up to him with a camera. (not a new paragraph) "I got the pictures you asked for. It was a woman," the kid reported. "Are you a private investigator? That's a really nice camera. Is it new?"

"Thanks kid. Yes, I am, and yes it's a brand new camera. Here's your twenty dollars. Have a nice day."

Reluctantly the kid walked away.

He scrolled through the pictures to see his ex-girlfriend pulling out the envelope. The look on her face was classic. The envelope contained five hundred monopoly dollars.

"I needed a new camera anyway," he thought as he walked back to his car.

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Review by Starling
Rated: E | (4.0)
u}Plot:
Cinderella in a more modern day form.

Scene/Setting:
First Ella at home. A bit of unexpected or unexplained magic with the mail falling from the air. There is a limo picking up the girls, so I thought about a modern day time period, but then there is the coach with the horses, so that confused my estimate. The castle come across more as a mansion.

Characters:
Ella
Mother
Father
2 sisters
Prince

Suggestions:
Story started off more like the fairy tale and the only reason I kept reading was because I was reviewing it. I think under other circumstances I never would have read it to the end and discovered the marvelous twist. It was totally unexpected. Congratulations.


Red = grammar mistakes
Green = Comments
Blue = suggestions

I hope I have been helpful. Any suggestions made are my own personal feelings. I am a beginning writer hoping to get better myself. I plan on keeping up with the story.

Dusty light beamed through the little kitchen window. Ella blinked as it struck her eyes. She wondered how long it would be before her step mother rose; she still had the floor to wash. Wearily, Ella filled her bucket with soapy water. She tutted (need different word here, one which would not be slang) as a wave sloshed over the edge and onto her toes. (not a new paragraph) Ella began to clean, stopping every so often to rub her back and take some deep breaths. She had been up since five, scrubbing and cleaning every surface. Just as she did every day. Now and then she allowed herself a moment to pause and dream of a different life.

Once Ella was satisfied with the floor, she listened hard, but there was no sound of any movement from above. So she made herself a coffee and rested her feet for a moment. Once more, her thoughts wandered to a life where she was loved, a life where she could stay in bed until ten if she wanted.

Ella’s thoughts were interrupted by the familiar thud of the day’s post hitting the floor. (Getting the sense the mail was not delivered in the ordinary way, it just dropped out of the sky? You might want to explain this a bit more if you are taking this story to the next level) Bending to pick it up, she noticed something quite strange. There were identical letters addressed to her step mother, her two step sisters, her father and…yes…and her. She was never included in anything, she couldn’t wait to tear it open.

She turned the envelope over in her hands, examining the silver and gold of the paper. Her name stood out in swirly, pink letters; Miss Ella Cinderford. Resisting the urge to tear through the paper, Ella carefully unstuck the glue. As she lifted the treasure from inside, a sprinkling of silver and pink stars floated to the floor. She giggled and read the letter.
“His Royal Highness, Prince Thomas of Gloucester,
Requests the pleasure of the Company of
Miss Ella Cinderford
at the Annual Royal Ball
on 14th February 2015, 8pm onwards”

Ella suppressed a squeal of delight and tucked her invitation into her apron pocket. When she returned to the kitchen, her back seemed to hurt a little less and her feet weren’t quite as heavy. She dusted the cobwebs, which seemed to multiply at an alarming rate, and prepared breakfast for her family.

“Ella!” the sharp voice of her step mother cut into her daydreams. “What are you doing there? I told you to leave our breakfast until we are all here.”

“Oh, s-sorry, Mother, I forgot. Shall I start again?”

“Yes. But wait for the girls. Your father is in London on business, so it’s just the three of us today.”

Just the four of us, Ella wanted to reply. She was always overlooked. As she poured the coffee and orange juice away and cleared the toast from the rack, she felt the shine disappear from her magical invitation.

With her step mother and two step sisters seated around the breakfast table, idly making talk of their day’s plans, Ella produced the shimmering envelopes. “Oh, I almost forgot,” she said, “These came for you earlier.”

Ella’s sisters snatched their letters greedily whilst her step mother eyed her suspiciously before accepting the note.

“Oh, Mummy!” said Joanna, Ella’s youngest sister. “We’re invited to Prince Thomas’ s Ball. Oh, Mummy. What shall we wear?”

Mrs. Cinderford turned to her two daughters, beaming, and said, “Joanna, Susannah, you shall have the finest ball gowns ever made. Your father will see to it when he returns.” She turned to Ella with a smirk on her face and said, “You will be alright to stay here on your own, won’t you?”

The smile vanished when Ella replied, “But I won’t be here on my on own, Mother. I am coming too. I received my invitation this morning, just like you.”

“No! I don’t believe you. Show me.” Ella handed over her prized possession and was crushed when her step mother tore it to tiny shreds and said, “So, Ella. You will be alright on your own here, won’t you?”

Ella could feel her eyes burning and her breath caught in her throat. She refused to give her so-called family the satisfaction of seeing her break. In stead (one word), she held her head high and took shelter in her basement bedroom. (not a new paragraph) Ella dusted away the cobwebs and sank into her bed. It wasn’t long before she had no control over the tears that were fighting their way out of her eyes. She berated herself for thinking something nice could happen to her. She couldn’t have gone anyway, she had nothing to wear. Her clothes were all rags.

Over the next few weeks, talk of the forthcoming ball was a daily event. Both of Ella’s sisters had beautiful ball gowns made for them; matching, baby blue, full length robes. They looked beautiful, even on her sisters who were not blessed with good looks.

The subject which caused most titillation was the reason for the Prince’s Ball. Rumour Rumor declared the young Royal was desperate to find a bride. What better way to find one than to open your home to all the eligible young ladies in the county? Of course, Mrs. Cinderford was determined one of her daughters would be ‘the one’.

By the time the limousine arrived to collect the three ladies, anticipation was so high not one of them could stop talking. Ella watched the car drive away and felt a stab of anger, shooting from her chest. (not a new paragraph) She Ella sat heavily at the kitchen table and crossed her arms. Before long, her head was resting in her hands and she was sobbing ferociously. The worst part was that her father had done nothing to help her. He never did. He always took everyone else’s side before hers. She hated him for it.

The intensity of Ella’s tears gradually subsided. In fact, she had almost stopped crying, when it happened. A flash of white light filled the kitchen and gold glitter fell from the ceiling. Then she appeared. The most beautiful woman Ella had ever seen. She was dressed in a flowing white dress and her blonde hair tousled around her shoulders.

Ella opened her mouth, but no sound came out.

“Ella,” the woman, who Ella had just realised realized sported wings, said, “My name is Karina and I am your Fairy Godmother.”

“M-my F-fairy Godmother?” said Ella, “But that’s not possible.” She paused, taking in the way the woman was hovering above the ground. “It’s not possible. Surely?” Ella added, more a question than a statement of fact.

“My dear Ella. You have been ill used for far too long, you have forgotten how to believe in magic.”

Ella nodded her head. Used. Yes. Magic.

“I know how much you wanted to go with your family tonight. Well, I am here to make sure you shall go to the ball.”

With a flick of her wand and more white light, Ella’s clothes were transformed into a beautiful, pink, lacy gown, which lightly brushed the floor as it whispered across the kitchen when she turned to examine it (suggested addition). Ella’s tiny feet were encased in pink glass slippers. She felt beautiful.

“One more thing,” Ella’s celestial friend added, “You need to make a spectacular entrance.” Another flick of the wand and this time, a shimmering, silver carriage, pulled by four white horses, appeared outside. Ella gasped and turned to thank her Fairy Godmother.”

“Just make sure you leave before midnight, Ella. The magic wears off once it hears the beating of the clock. Now, off you go and have fun.” With that, she was gone and Ella was climbing into her own horse drawn carriage.

As Ella waited to be announced at the Ball, Prince Thomas glanced towards her and their eyes locked. Ella’s heart raced as the Prince walked her way. Gently taking her arm, he walked her into the ballroom with the announcement of her name. Ella’s family, who were hovering around the edges of the Society, snapped their heads to see their servant girl (I think they would say something about her being their sister, not half-sister like in the original story) arrive.

Ella’s father beamed and touched his hand to his chest. But his wife scowled at him and his face drained of emotion. “What’s she doing here? And where did she get that dress from? Was it you?”

“No,” Mr. Cinderford replied. “I have no idea where she got it.”

“She can’t be here, Harold. You know that. If the Prince falls for her, we are all in trouble.” The words hissed from the woman’s mouth and Ella’s father felt his heart fall through his stomach.

The music began at precisely 8pm and Ella was honoured (spelling?, you keeping adding "u" to your spelling so I am guessing you are from Great Britten or somewhere in the UK. Not all languages add the "u") to be Prince Thomas’s first choice of partner. Together, they swirled around the floor to a perfect Viennese Waltz. Ella’s dress sparkled and shone with fairy dust, encasing the pair of dancers in a magic spell.

Prince Thomas refused to take another dance partner all night. He couldn't draw his eyes away from this beautiful vision in pink. They danced, talked, fell into love with one another.

It was only as the clock began to strike midnight that Ella remembered her Fairy Godmother’s warning. She knew she had to leave straight away. (I would definitely add more here about her actually leaving, maybe mentioning something about the mother, father and two sisters watching her go and smiling) The Prince stretched his arms after her in an attempt to keep her close, but it was too late. His Love was gone. All that remained was a tiny, pink, glass slipper. (how and where did he find the slipper?)

Returning to the Ballroom, the Prince declared, “I shall search this land until I find the angel whose foot fits perfectly into this slipper. When I find this beauty, I will make her my wife.”

Excited chatter spread like fire across the room. In particular, between members of the Cinderford family. Both girls were convinced they would be the one, despite their hideously misshapen, giant sized feet.

Starting the very next morning, (suggested addition of words) Prince Thomas searched from house to house, eager to find the girl who had left with his heart. When he came upon the Cinderford residence, Joanna and Susannah shoved and pushed and squeezed their feet, trying to convince the Prince it was them he loved. But the slipper just didn’t fit.

“Are there any more unmarried women in this house?” the Prince asked Mrs. Cinderford.

Quickly, she replied, “No. That’s it. Now, go. (she would not order the Prince to leave) ” She took the Prince’s arm and began ushering him towards the door. Just as she reached for the handle, the Prince stopped dead, lilting his head to one side.

“Who is that sweet voice I hear?” he asked, turning towards the voice and walking, as though pulled by an invisible thread.

“Oh, that’s nobody for you to worry about. Just our servant girl. Come on, I’ll see you out.”

Ella entered the hallway, sweeping dust and cobwebs as she moved. She stopped when she saw the Prince’s shiny black boots and looked up to his face. “It’s you,” said Prince Thomas. “There is no need for you to try this slipper on. I would know you anywhere.”

The two kissed, stares of venom landing on their backs. Kneeling on one knee, Prince Thomas said, “Marry me, Ella. If he knew her name why couldn't he find her without the slipper. Maybe he should ask her name here.) I love you, I want you for my wife.”

Ella melted into the prince and they kissed once more. Somewhere on the outskirts of his consciousness, the Prince could hear Mrs. Cinderford scolding him, warning him he would be sorry. But he just kept kissing his fiancé.

The day of the wedding was declared a national holiday. Celebrations rang throughout the land. When Ella glided up the aisle, on her father’s arm (despite his wife’s objections), there were gasps all over the cathedral. Ella was beautiful. Her inky black hair coiled around her face, her indigo eyes were alight with love. The wedding was perfect in every way. (not a new paragraph) The reception was filled with merriment and dance. Wine flowed freely and a sense of hope hung in the air. Thomas and Ella waited until a suitable moment, then announced they were leaving for their honeymoon.

Their first night together was in the Royal Hotel. The Prince had commandeered the entire building. He brought his own personal waiter from the palace. Champagne was chilled, a night of love was on the menu. (not a new paragraph) As Ella undressed, Thomas gasped when he saw his bride’s torso. Right in the centre was a shocking red hourglass. Ella saw her Prince looking and covered her stomach. “It’s my birthmark,” she whispered, her dark eyes fluttering. “It’s hideous, isn’t it? My mother had exactly the same mark. I’m very like her, you know.”

Taking Ella’s hands, the Prince led her to the enormous heart shaped bed. “It’s not hideous, Ella. Nothing about you could ever be hideous.” Lying back, the couple brushed each other’s lips, then consummated their marriage.

The Prince quickly fell into a warm, fuzzy stupor. But he was awoken by his bride nibbling his neck. He responded in a haze, turning to face his beauty. At first, all he could see was her eyes, more red than blue, staring intently at his face.

The next thing Prince Thomas saw were the fangs; razor sharp, bright white, sparkling fangs. He didn’t have time to recoil in horror before his Love sank her teeth into his flesh, filling his veins with Lover’s Poison. The Prince’s last words, “I love you Ella,” were lost in the gluttonous actions of his bride.

She ate quickly, hungrily, and devoured his entire body, licking her lips in satisfaction.

By the time the Prince’s waiter knocked on the hotel room door, he found poor Ella huddled in the corner of the room. Her shoulders were shaking with the force of her grief. “He’s gone,” she said, her hand brushing her stomach absentmindedly. He left me, just like all the others.”

Placing a protective arm around the new widow, Prince Thomas’s waiter found himself falling in love
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Review by Starling
Rated: E | (2.0)
Plot: I read your material. This piece covers personal feelings on the possible reality of Karma existing. The reasons the author thinks Karma is real are given through personal experience. It would be fitting for publication in a religious venue or even in an emotional venue where people would feel like they were struggling, as a short "pep" sort of talk.

Scene/Setting: Feels like a reply someone would post on Facebook or one of the other chat places.

Characters: Author, sister and unknown persons on Facebook.

Suggestions: I didn't find many mistakes. A few spelling mistakes exist. The piece also needs to be broken up into several paragraphs.

There are not many songs around today, that can be turned into a post. I used "Tell Her About It" by Billy Joel, once in some fiction writing I was doing. What I did was take each stanza and write a few paragraphs as if the character was hearing the song in their head and matching up what was happening in their life to the music. It could be something you could try to get your point across a little stronger.

If the situation was built upon, as in telling what led up to the discussion and describing the atmosphere and surrounds, and then give more of what happened after, I could see this becoming a short story.

I hope I have been helpful. Any suggestions made are my own personal feelings. I am a beginning writer hoping to get better myself. I plan on keeping up with the story.

Material:
About two months ago our whole family got into a huge Facebook war. I will not get into details but lets let's (spelling) just say it wasn't good. The whole family turned against me and my two youngest sisters. We came with understanding and they wouldn't accept any of it. There were assumptions being made. (space) There was name calling and emotional abuse that went into place. They chose to do it in a Facebook group instead of actually talking to us personally. Everyone was talking about us but never once bothered to talk to us. (Paragraph) It went on and on and I just couldn't take it anymore. It was getting ugly. We were made out to be the bad guys which in reality we were doing what was right. We were told KARMA was going to get us back. Which I didn't ever pay attention to. I've never believed in such a thing as Karma. I believe things happen as they come. I couldn't take it anymore. I finally just gave it all to God and asked him for guidance in writing them a final reply. I cried out to the Lord and prayed. I asked him to help me. He was with me the whole time I was writing. (Paragraph) Before I submitted it, I received a message from a sister I haven't seen or talked to in years. It was one of those chain messages. Now those I've never participated in. Many friends have sent me those throughout the years and I have always ignored them. I almost closed her message just as soon as I realized what it was. But something got into me to keep reading. It was talking about Karma and angels. I had some sort of audial audible (???) vision the night before as I was drifting off to sleep. All I heard was in the arms of an angel. When I read the message I automatically remembered what I heard the night before and linked it to the message. I knew with this God was telling me something. I hadn't heard the song in a very long time and it was just weird for it to pop up in my head like that. I went ahead and sent the message to my family. I went on with my day like usual. I was happy all day and couldn't stop thinking about it. Later something come came upon me and I just had to look the lyrics up. I knew that all I knew in the song was in the arms of an angel fly away from here and I just had to know the rest of the song. (Paragraph) When I got home I looked them up and I couldn't believe my eyes. I got chills as I noticed everything was about me and my current situation. Everyone that knows me knows I follow my husband to his jobs and we stay in a hotel. It was dark and cold as my husband and son were already asleep and I decided to go to bed as well. I finally pieced it all together. Although I don't believe in karma or chain messages God used the message my sister sent me to speak through me. Where it said I sent you an angel last night. It was God letting me know he sent me an angel.
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Review by Starling
Rated: E | (5.0)
I think this lets me donate. If it doesn't work let me know how and I will try again.
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Review by Starling
Rated: E | (5.0)
Thank you for writing this article. I found it very helpful.
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Review by Starling
Rated: E | (3.5)
I enjoyed reading this story. Anything I have added are suggestions only. Everyone knows how they want their story to "sound" so feel free to disregard anything I have written. Someone who critiqued my work said to not use adverbs. I found this hard but I think it is good advice. I also try and knock out all of the following words when I can. "and", "that", "at that moment", "then." These words tend to make sentences run to long. I hope this helps in some way.

Red - spelling and word corrections
Blue - Suggestions and comments.


The Sorrow of the Broken King.
Deep within the mountainous region near a small fishing village, a group of cloaked men began a pilgrimage into the mountain cave until a large tomb stopped their trek. One of the cloaked men removed a tube-like object from the inner pockets of his cloak which caused the sealed stone door to glow a dark, blood-orange until the opening was revealed. to all of the people on the journey.(everyone there would see it.) Once the group gathered inside the tomb, a young woman with amber colored flowing hair seated herself on one of the burial sights sites with a large curved blade in her possession. She began cutting herself ever so gently until her blood dripped onto the ground in a small pool beneath her feet. The thin, grey haired man who opened the tomb was stood in front of a large burial pillar smearing his own blood over the pillar until the ground rattled with a boisterous passion, but ceased ceasing after three minutes. The pillars & and (never use symbols for words) burial tombs crackled with life from the dead men inside who appeared in gruesome ways, yet retained all of the traits that plagued them when life still flowed within their veins. (May want to add possible traits)

The seven dead man within the larger pillar stepped out with half a face staring back at the cloaked individuals who freed him from the chains of death. His hair was mangled, missing chunks of hair in the middle of his head, while his face was barely in-tact except for the dark eyes that made him stand with a intimidating presence beneath ( ?? sounds like you are saying he is shorter than the others) everyone else. The grey haired clocked man bowed on one of his knees, raising up a larger, sharper (leave off the "r" in these two words) curved handled blade for with his boney, decayed hands to grab from which he did. (The cloaked man is lifting the knife and the being in the tomb grabbed it? Confusing.) Others in the grey cloaks took a knee as well until the only people left upright were the seven dead men who proceeded to slaughter every less member except the grey haired man. He who stood back up once his people laid on the ground with blood oozing from their mortal wounds. He was allowed to live by the orders of the dead men's leader. His voice was raspy and almost inaudible to his old ears, but he made out everything he said with crystal clear hearing. (The gray hair man is not saying anything here, so the reader would not need to know what his voice was going to sound like later)

"You have done well my child. I thank you for our return to this world and shall repay the debt." said??? (Can you give the "dead man" a name here so it won't be confusing who is talking?)

His ghoulish hands embraced the older man's head and a large, white glowing light emitted itself around his body until it was finished. The man was now younger in appearance with his hair colored back to it's younger brown hue and his face was tighter, along with his body being nimbler and that of a young warriors. He bowed his head once more in allegiance to the newfound king of the dead. The ghouls gathered up belongings of the dead followers, cloaking their faces before leaving through the tomb's exit. The king stayed back for a moment, gathering his old armor that rested in his tomb where his body once lied. The armor was ebony colored with gold stripes going up the left chest plate while the helm resembled a broken skeleton face that was also of the same ebony color. He marched out of the tomb, his armor clinging with every step until he sealed the tomb with a swipe from his enameled cladded left hand, not taking a look back at the fate he just escaped from. (Has the old gray haired man been left in the tomb?)

Four Months of Sorrow.

The villages underneath at the base of the mountain were the first places to crumble under the invasion of the broken men of the broken skull where they proceeded to pillage, assault, and imprison the innocence villagers who occupied them. (I would break this sentence into two.)The king of the broken skull transformed the men he felt were of great strength into his own warriors. They died for moments until they entered back into the world looking like ghouls with dead, red eyes in place of the natural ones before. He continued forming an army through villages until the large fortress city of Tolliver's Bluff fell under his reign. The months following the return of this menace saw people fall to the hands of a forced death or become slaves for the growing army to use and abuse until they were shells of their former selves. Jon, one One of the citizens inside the city, Jon managed to escape the gates before the men sealed them off once the king's needs were met. He ran as fast as his feet could allow until a tiny hut would be his resting place for the night that was slowly following. His tan skinned appearance matched the shaggy brown mane of hair he grew out and the beard on his face made him look like a lowly commoner, alas Jon was an ample fighter when the time called for it, but he wasn't going to lose his life over a battle he knew would be one sided. (Need to break the previous sentence into two or more.) He would have to leave this hut soon if he would gather assistance to save his city (sounds like you are trying to save the city from better soldiers) from better soldiers in the next larger city across the drowning sea of Nearos; The Death Keep. The keep was a ruthless city under the tutelage of Walder Stonebridge, but he who could very well be the key to pushing back the king of the broken men.

Back inside the walls of Tolliver's Bluff, the king sat atop the formers throne of fine velvet and gold to overlook his vastly populated army who kneeled in unison at his whim. The great hall of the king was decorated in a glorious fashion which now turned into black walls and decaying features. The entire keep of the king grew into a dark place once this sorrow crept inside until Tolliver's Bluff transformed into the dead king's stomping grounds. He smiled at his work, but his face still remained horrible to look at and the smile was half bone and tattered flesh.

Jon gathered his senses while he mourned the loss of his home inside the city behind the walls once he noticed the large black crows flying overhead gawking in a form of togetherness near the now black palace of the king. He stumbled near to the crossroads leading to the villages and the next town before trekking in the right direction where a nobleman was letting his horse feed in the field adjacent to where he stood. His broadsword rested on a mossy, cracked log when Jon walked by. The nobleman's slicked hair, dark clothing, and scarred face gave him a distinct look of mysteriousness. to which He looked Jon over with pale blue eyes. "Best get a move on boy." Jon itched his tan cheek, walking hastily at this point away from the man. A few dead warriors now garbed in armor with swords & axes in their hands came bolting down the crossroads leaving Jon in a paralyzed state of fear and he was weaponless since all of his belongings sat inside his house. (If he was going for help, I think he would take some valuables with him. He is probably not planning on returning to his home soon.)

The knights broadsword swung down from behind Jon as the mysterious man sliced into one of the warriors with minimal effort until the head of this ghastly foe parted ways with his own shoulders. Jon picked up the short, stumped axe from the decapitated soldier to aid this savior in finishing off the remaining patrols in hopes he could catch a ship across the Nearos sea. (We know this is what he is planning, does not need to be stated) Metal clang upon metal as the scarred man took down another soldier after a heavy back-and-fourth of sword on sword to which he was cut below his left cheek before fatally stabbing his broadsword into the chest of the huskier, broad shouldered dead man.(Sentence is too long.) Jon was having trouble defending himself from the last attacker, hacking off one of arms in the ensuing fight before he was dispatched by the more experienced fighter. "Told you things would be getting ugly." (All the knight had told Jon was to move along. If you want this here you are going to have to edit the previous statement.) Bleeding from his face, the slender nobleman extended his hand out for Jon to shake. "Really should brush up on that sword play boy." The man wouldn't give his name, but he agreed to stick together with Jon if he could get him out to the sea.

Near the harbor of Tolliver's Bluff the patrols of the dead soldiers hadn't reached past the crossroads so the window of taking a ship out of the bay to head west were highly capable if Jon & his new found ally could get through the next town of Moros with all of their limbs still attached to their bodies. (Sentence too long.) "Why don't you have a name?" Jon's curiosity was striking a nerve with the man who just shrugged his narrow shoulders with each step, his broadsword clanked around it's sheath. (New Paragraph here) "I don't have a name. My mother died, my father was a drunkard. Happy now?" (New Paragraph here) The scar on his face made Jon think of an old friend named Barrett, who he lost in a great blaze of sweeping fire when he was just a boy; Barrett. Jon decided that was what he would call him the knight, before they enviably parted ways. (New Paragraph here) Barrett shoved Jon behind a few sturdy oak trees while his finger pointed to a slew of resting soldiers and normal folk being hung up from one of the houses on the outskirts of Moros. Barrett gruffly lowered his sword to the ground, choosing that his ash-colored dagger would be stealthy on the quest to move through the king's dead soldiers.

Jon was dragged along carefully behind Barrett while the screams of tortured people began eating at his conscience causing his feet to stop moving. "What are you doing boy? We must move!" Barrett's hushed breaths were almost too loud as he tried pulling Jon with his own steps. "We have to save these people. They are us." Barrett shook his head in rage until he knew somewhere in that bitterness he held inside that this stupid boy was smarter then he seemed. "If I get impaled saving these fools, you'll the first I drag to the next world." They ducked through a nearby blacksmith's house to get a better look at the soldiers in the area.

(How did they get from the blacksmith's house to the men they are killing: Ran, snuck, ect.) They both began silently snapping the necks of the dead men they could get the jump on until a few screams brought the attention of six heavily armored soldiers who didn't take prisoners due to one of the men carrying a still dripping head by the hair in their right deceased hands. (Sentence is too long.) Barrett quickly caught the falling axe heading towards his face with a fast tackle until the dagger he carried found its way into the left eye of the ugly looking insurgent. Jon tried taking on a smaller, scrawny soldier only to be struck in the chest by a sword in a diagonal swipe that left him reeling on the soft grassy dirt. Barrett saw him hit the ground and managed to kill the perpetrator before he pulled Jon out of the fire, (I would use the word battle here since there is no physical fire) taking the boy to safer ground. "You stupid noble boy! I told you... I.." (you need to end the fight, eg. they killed everyone or they got away) Jon carried his weight on the shoulder of Barrett as the harbor was plainly in view. (not sure what is happening here. Taking it for granted Barrett is carrying Jon. Was the fight close to the harbor. If not maybe state how far they had to go.)"The Death Keep... Walder..." The boy passed out from his loss of blood until he went lifeless in Barrett's arms. He knew getting away from the death & and destruction wouldn't happen anytime soon so his next step was crossing the Nearos. Jon's corpse was carefully lowered into the shallow grave dugout by Barrett and he lightly tossed the dirt back upon his body. Ships still sat in the harbor but no captains kept housing near the port when he carefully came through the wooden walkway near the light blue water. (Possible additions to this section: Did Jon die on the way, or when they reached the harbor? Was he buried beside a road or in some "sacred" ground? How did the knight feel about the way the boy fought?)

The Death Keep.
Walder Stonebridge was a bastard who knew his origins yet he dragged himself to the top with his kingship on the island where the Death Keep now rested with an intimating look for whatever ship managed to survive crossing the Nearos see. His hazel colored pupils viewed the subjects who rested easily in his kingdom while he was unaware of the dead king's rise back to the world until a carrier raven dropped the news into a messengers lap. (Sentence too long) After the news broke, he made the keep raise every defense in it's its lucrative arsenal just incase the king's reach could penetrate the sea. Walder wasn't a psychically imposing man with a short, round stature and average looks that gleamed with reflections from both parents he hated. Stonebridge was a clever man though managing to overtake grand riches through stupid people buying into scams he was running that dealt in plots of land that weren't his. The Keep was heavily guarded throughout the day by watchers high up in the three towers overlooking every direction of the free waters along with several spikes sticking up through the mouth of the Keep's entrance incase slavers decided breaking in was an intelligent decision. (New Paragraph here) One of his guards blew the horn alerting the entire structure to an arriving ship that was unidentifiable. The nimble vessel carefully guided itself through the spikes, dropping anchor right near the docks. The crew remained on board once the hooded man dressed in black garb greeted introduced himself to the guards. The man's brown hair, chiseled jaw, and beady grey eyes were the same as that of the older man who unshackled the dead king from his slumber months prior. "I'm here to see Stonebridge." The same raspy voice remained intact, the guards stripped him of his weapons and he was escorted inside the keep with a large smirk taped onto his face.

Gregor carefully studied the entrance of the Death's Keep before entering the bowels of the grand hall so if it came down to escaping by the skin of his teeth, he'd take all of Walder's men with him into the depths. Walder was unimpressed by the intruder until he could make out the man's identity. "Gregor? What type of black magic be this youth?" (New Paragraph here){/c} Gregor sat in a small chair while a cup bearer filled a glass with wine of fresh berries and grapes. "I'm sure you can figure out the how." The crisp wine flowed down his throat with ease with Walder puzzled by his trip to his fortress. (new paragraph here) "Why are you here then? Should you be with your king now?" (new paragraph here) Sitting his wooden goblet on the fine table of oak wood, Gregor removed a scrap of parchment from his wet cloak. "I've been sent here for this." (new paragraph here) His (who is this) eyes grew heavy with fear when the image on the parchment came into a clearer view. "That hasn't been here for years my now younger friend. A collector took it up north into the hills." (new paragraph here) Gregor frowned but continued to drink from his goblet. "Then we have a journey to plan if you wanna want to keep this kingdom and your life."

Back in Tolliver's Bluff.

Still wrapping his head around the boy he barely knew dying in battle, Barrett was sitting on a small, creaky ship inside the gallows with a few other men and one woman sitting in the back. The woman kept to herself while the others swapped stories about their escapes from the dead men during the day. Barrett took a seat beside the woman; a delicate featured lass with a head of golden hair tucked underneath a makeshift hook hood of leather and stitching. (new paragraph here) Her eyes didn't look at Barrett once when he took a chair beside her. "I'm not here to chat with the pigs." (new paragraph here) He laughed, folding his arms across his broad chest. "Just sitting here lass. Don't remove my head just yet." (new paragraph here) Gwendoline watched her husband get cut in half by the dead king's general before she hauled herself away to the safety of this ship in hopes she could evade the same fate. She felt the necklace around her thin neck and was instantly reminded of his warm embrace yet she had to be cold, bitter, and alone now in order to survive the changed world. She wasn't prone to using violence but looking at Barrett the man (he has not introduced himself yet) dosing off beside her made the wheels in her sharp mind turn with an idea that maybe this degenerate could teach her if he didn't try assaulting her beforehand. (new paragraph here) The Chalice floated over the churning blackish waters until the crashing waves picked up with a higher degree of violence that awoke Barrett from his slumber. "We've already reached Nearos?" Gwendoline patted his shoulder with a sarcastic resolve. "It's not as bad as one would think."

Before the Chalice could move another inch through the rougher waves, a larger ship began an assault from the North side of the vessel until a large claw hook came breaking through its hull. Barrett, Gwendoline, and the other three men of different complexions felt the cool breeze of the wind and could feel the rain coming down on their faces. Slavers dressed in rags of green & and white cloth trailed along the wire attaching both ships with an art form of balance until the group was overran over run by these cretins of the sea. Barrett dropped his swords before brushing Gwendoline behind his back. "No use in running now." (new paragraph here) Gwendoline was freaking out (see if you can come up with a description which is not so modern) on the inside at this new threat piled onto of the greater evil. The head slaver, a very malnourished looking man with heavy burn marks across his face hissed at his men in another language to which the even uglier group of slavers hooked took Barrett, Gwen, and any other person aboard in chains. The captain of the Chalice was removed from the helm and strapped with heavy shakes to the base of the crow's next. They escorted the new slaves across into their heavily plated vessel but made each one face the Chalice until it was destroyed by a grand explosion. Screams evoked assaulted Barrett's ears and the visual of the captain burning in agony made his stomach drop. They dropped them into a large man-made pit in the center of the hull and changed course for the slaver city of Kharleenus.

Kharleenus, was the largest and maybe the only slaver city on the Nearos sea near the edges of the common kingdoms. The population inside the city without walls largely consisted of slave masters, their children, and large areas where stock could be traded among noblemen & women. Gwendoline was separated when the group pushed them off the vessel, the crisp hot air smacked her in the face once a large gust of wind swatted it in her direction. Slavers watched her being escorted with cruel intentions stirring beneath their disgusting facial features that could burn a hole through the most fragile of women. Barrett and the men shuffled into a large, oval styled cage in the back of the large shopping area while Gwen became hosted (possibly "was held by) by a long dreaded (could you have meant "dreadlocks" here?) man sporting marks on his left arm, while his right eye was covered by a strip of leather. He pushed Gwen into an enclosed space where she met other women with stifling looks of terror on their light faces.

"Not every day you run into a lady from the common kingdoms." The dreaded man leaned beside a post, flopping his dirty strands of locks away from his face. He stood out from the other slavers she ran into before coming into his care due to his fair looks and strong physique except for some missing teeth, Gwen thought this man could of been a commoner before shifting into the role of a slaver.

"My name is Daero. They," he made a sweeping motion indicating the other women, (the ladies){/c} "will tell you my name is master to you."

Gwendoline was ordered to undress by Daero in order to throughly thoroughly scan the new stock. She hesitated before giving into the demands, dropping her garments to the floor leaving no part of flesh uncovered. Daero clapped his taped, rough hands together in amusement.

"You'll sell fast my dear. Why was a commoner near the sea of Nearos?" His hands fell to his side while his ears perked up once Gwen divulged the information of the dead king being brough back into the world. The foreign words executed from Daero's mouth seemed to be that of a prayer before he grabbed Gwen by her naked arm. "The slave king will want to hear this." She was allowed to dress back into her clothing before Daero began the walk towards the large castle of fresh red brick that loomed into on the horizon of the slaver city. Barrett's fate inside the cage came to her mind once the castle was in arms reach. when they reached the castle gate. {c}

"Savages. The bloody pack of 'em." Barrett was thrown tattered garb to change into once he assimilated into the population occupying the oval cage for passerby slavers to gawk at like animals on display. Barrett still thought about Jon and the selfness he saw in a stranger that stuck to his very core for an unknown reason. He saw a plethora of other men inside the cage, some older men looked to be on the way into the afterlife while a few young children played with each other in a display of unawareness to the nasty fate awaiting them if a slaver gobbled them up from this prison. "New arrival?" A man with the same height approached Barrett in a friendly demeanor. His muscular arms, gaunt facial structure, and short abysmal (???) hair gave him away as a king's guard or a soldier in the eyes of the newly imprisoned Barret. "I've been in this cage roughly two passes of the seasons. Wouldn't be easy to tell when they change, yet I know when a year passes. You from the common kingdoms? Have that look about you." Patting his almost bald head with a jolly laugh, his meaty hand slapped Barrett playfully on the back. Samuel Thurny greeted introduced himself to Barrett with shady body language that gave away his former position as a thief within the even shadier town of Pointe Hollow. Samuel wouldn't divulge how he ended up a slave, however like any thief of his skill was planning an exit. He had a whole year to do so. "Maybe something of value can ease my mind about takin' you with me." Slavers prodded the cage door open. & and greeted the stock to An average looking trader with a snobbish appearance who was dressed in a fine silk shirt covered in shiny, glimmering tiny red rubies embroiled into the material stood at the gate. I have combined several of the paragraphs here into one longer one. If you agree, do not forget to remove the extra quotation marks.)

Valley of the giants, North of Tolliver's Bluff.
Gregor admired his new youthful appearance inside an Inn near the path upwards into the mountain of the damned. Walder and a slew of his guards made the month long voyage with Gregor until the Inn seemed like a resting place for the out of shape bastard lord. (combined paragraphs) "The debt must be paid." Gregor shook his head during a round of fresh berry wine trying to shake the voice crawling around his head. He wobbled the goblet in his right hand, trembling after the voice grew louder. Walder was sat in the corner like a pouting child seeing that he was forced on this expedition and the thoughts of being away from his keep made his head flow with negative thoughts on what could occur without safety of the walls. He watched Gregor from afar near his men enjoying the wine which made his disdain for the forced journey sting even more.

"The debt must be PAID." Gregor felt a sting rush across his body and end up his right arm causing his goblet to fall on the plank table until the red wine spread over the sprawling table like blood. He lifted his covered right arm to make sure he was still whole from the king's power and what was underneath his arm now made him realize his new found youth could be ripped away in an instance. He saw the black veins going downward on his right arm that caused him to jerk his garment over the conflicted area of flesh.

Thank you for the read. Please let me know if I can answer any questions about what I have written. Let me know when you have more please.
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Review by Starling
In affiliation with Unofficial Erotica Newsletter ...  
Rated: 18+ | (1.0)
I want to get a review of what I wrote by this forum, but not sure how to do it. this is the number #2033445 of the story. Hope I haven't messed this up and posted where I shouldn't have. I marked it as adult, as best I could. Any help you can give will be gratefully appreciated.
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Review by Starling
Rated: 13+ | (3.0)
I think this is very sweet. The analogy of a butterfly compared to a person is not something I would expect from most men. For someone who, I take it has not written much poetry, it is very well done using free style. I could feel the love your husband has for you.

He should try a couple more projects. He has his own style and should continue with it.
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Review by Starling
Rated: E | (2.0)
This was very interesting. I have never tried to write using alliteration. It tends to sound a lot like shuddering to me. I will admit though you tied it all together nicely, but using the sense of smell of a lost dog.

You started out giving me a sense of sadness, and made me feel the dogs cold wet paws on the frosty ground. I could picture his head hanging low, looking for anything to eat, no matter how small. You were able to bring in the sense of hope near the end.

I would try and tighten up the language a bit though. Your sentences need to flow a little bit smoother. I thought you were trying for poetry at first, but the last part is not even close to that writing style. I did like the try you made.
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Review by Starling
Rated: 13+ | (1.0)
I get the story is about a bored 15 year old, in the second week of summer break. She also belongs to the upper crust of society, since her friends are traveling "all over the world and Zack wants her to come to Starbucks which is not cheap.

The first thing you need to do is divide the structure into paragraphs with spaces between the paragraphs or at least an indent so it would be easier to read. You also need to give a little more background information (i.e. is Emily lying on her bed, sitting at a desk... is there a window in the room, what's it like outside... is the room large and pink or small and orange or any other decoration.) We need to know what type of person Emily is, such as girly-girl, tomboy or other traits. You can do this by showing what she is doing in the room or even how the room is decorated.

You have some good action going on. As far as what is happening depending on how old Zack is, I think he is saying if she does not come he is going to tell a secret, Emily does not want told. This could be anything from she smoked a cigarette to a mini spy adventure. It will be interesting to see where you take it.


*Gold* My review has been submitted for consideration in "Good Deeds Get CASH!.
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Review of Pleasing God  
Review by Starling
Rated: E | (1.5)
I am not a big fan of poetry, but I liked reading your pros. Great theme development.
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