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survey [02 May 2016|02:12am]

bruce
Hey guys! I'm one of the developers over at Plover and we would terribly appreciate your thoughts on current state of writing as a hobby. Your feedback is important to us and will shape the platform in the months to come, so please take a moment if you can by filling out this survey. Much thanks everyone!
write on the walls

Happy to have joined... [12 Mar 2016|09:36pm]

malaisia
I'm new to livejournal. It's about that time in my life for me to start doing things I enjoy. I've forgetten how much I love writing an I hope to be contributing a lot more here.
4 scribbles| write on the walls

Untitled Sci-fi Zombie Horror Story: Chapter 1 [08 Mar 2016|08:16am]
candicedionysus
Originally posted by candicedionysus at Untitled Sci-fi Zombie Horror Story: Chapter 1
Title: Untitled Sci-fi Zombie Horror Story
Genre(s): Science Fiction, Far Future, Zombie, Horror
Rating: 18+, full story contains blood, gore, swearing
Description:
A colony cut off from Earth for 400 years sends a small political expedition to establish communications and set up interstellar trade routes as a precursor to seeking out the other colonies they have been disconnected from for centuries. What they find when they get there, they were never expecting. Told from the perspective of one of the team members, a nerdy BGW technician with many skills and a love of 20th century Earth media.

Read more...Collapse )
write on the walls

Spam deleted; sorry for the inconvenience [19 Feb 2016|04:20pm]

little_e_
Hey, everybody! I woke up this morning to find a massive deluge of spam had overwhelmed the community. I made the whole com temporarily "private" to spare you while I banned + deleted everything.

The com is back up, but in order to not accidentally make public posts that were originally f-locked, all of the posts are currently f-locked. If you want to change the status of your own posts, feel free.

Sorry about the inconvenience. Have a great weekend!
write on the walls

Writing [20 Jan 2016|11:43am]

ext_336921
[ mood | calm ]

I might try to use this place as a way to collectively put up all my stories. They remain fractured on to many websites, computers, journals as of now. Let`s see how this goes.

The stories are:

`By a Thread`- A long term original piece that I write scene by scene in no particular order. But its a story about the twist of dreams, identity, dealing with reality at its worst and the relationships in that reality.

`No Rain`- For those who want a peek of people in the BDSM community, this story is my reflection of those relationships in a more realistic modern light instead of something just sexual. It`s about two friends, Aaron and Devon and how they rekindle an old friendship long torn apart in the midst of trying to maintain their more kink related roles.

`Second Chance`- A Frankenstein based story, interrupting the original book before the creature lets Justine hang for his crime of killing William. I wanted to explore Elizabeth more thoroughly as a character and how she interacts with the creature and Victor.

`Sick Twisted game`-A rewrite of an Edward Scissorhands fanfiction from many years ago that I am working on to see how I`ve improved as a writer. But I also wanted to see how far I could push certain characters realistically.

write on the walls

The Elephant of Writing- Money [18 Jan 2016|01:57pm]
amberadraper
The number one question I keep getting is about the elephant of the writing world- money. Everyone wants to know what the money is like because they hear success stories about people like Stephen King, J.K. Rowling, and Stephanie Meyer, who when from nearly broke to having roughly all the money.

My personal opinion is that you shouldn’t be writing if you’re only after the money because the chance of your book being the next Twilight is about 1%. I’m not trying to discourage anyone but I don’t want to sugar coat either.

So the setup of getting your book published, which eventually leads to the money part, is made up of a few pieces. It starts with literary agents, then bumps to publishers and self-publishing.

A literary agency as I know it is an agent or representative. The agent will review your book, then decide if it’s worth shopping around to various publishers in hopes one of them will bite. Just because an agent accepts your manuscript doesn't mean it will actually get published, just that they're willing to submit and represent it.

Honestly, the only thing I know an agent to be good for is their rolodex, and they typically want 15-20% of your royalties to get access to said rolodex. Also, please keep in mind that an agent only wants to represent something if they know they can get a good check from selling it. Ex) You make 30k off a book and the agent’s cut of that is 4.5k. Seems like a decent chunk when all they’re doing is submitting/representing stuff, but that takes time. If they’re spending 20 hours a week on your book for 10 weeks that translates to approximately $22.50 an hour, which they might think isn’t worth the effort. Meaning your book could absolutely be good enough for a publisher to accept, but an agent wants nothing to do with it because it doesn't scream dollar signs. So if an agent rejects (which they often do), cut out the middle man and submit directly to a publisher.

Didn’t know you can submit directly to certain publishers without an agent, did you? Which ones is dependent on the genre, but I know Harlequin and HarperCollins both have "Imprints" (an Imprint is just a subsection of the main publishing house) you can submit to for romance novels. Google is a really good resource for other genres.

As far as contract offers, the up-front royalties could range from $0 to upwards of $1.0m. Stephanie Meyer (author of Twilight) got a $750k advance on Twilight as a first time author. But keep in mind, that’s an advance. If you are given 20k for your book and it only makes 10k, you have to pay back the difference. At least that’s my experience.

As far as percentages, a publisher will typically offer you 10-25% of royalties off each sale. Just pay attention to wording because 10% of the cost of the book is a lot more than 10% of the "net royalties" which subtracts publication costs, marketing, etc. Ideally you would like an agent for that kind of contract negotiation, but it’s not required. I do recommend you have a lawyer review your contract before signing it, just in case there is legalese working against you.

Then there is BN, Amazon and the like. Typically you get 70% of the sale price for anything over $2.99 and 30% for anything under with Amazon. BN is pretty similar, but I think they give you %5 less than Amazon does.

If you decide to submit directly to a publisher, I would stay away from these "e-publishers". From what I can tell, all they're doing is taking a cut of your royalties (15-25%) to upload your book on Amazon/BN for you. If you're not tech savvy they’re a great resource. If you are, it's a waste. A typical publisher should also handle marketing, etc. but these places don't. And I do not consider listing your book on their obscure website as marketing, FYI. Of course that is strictly my opinion and you're welcome to take it or leave it :)

I hope I gave you a better idea of what to expect money-wise!
1 scribble| write on the walls

Book Review: A Christmas Journey by Anne Perry [18 Jan 2016|10:07am]
authornwolf
Originally posted by authornwolf at Book Review: A Christmas Journey by Anne Perry
A Christmas Journey illustrated the meaning of Christmas through the journeys of three English women through a harsh Scottish winter.  This book also revealed the elegant yet vicious aristocratic social customs of Victorian England.


The journey began when Gwendolen Kilmuir threw herself over a bridge shortly after being insulted by Isobel Alvie.  To redeem herself, Alvie made a journey of repentance to inform Mrs. Naylor that her daughter committed suicide.  Lady Vespasia Cumming-Gould accompanied Alvie as a friend and to clear her own past.  The voyage is almost unbearable and full of surprises but strengthens their friendship.  Along the way, Gould- wondered how an insult drove Kilmuir to suicide.  Cumming-Gould eventually learned that the insult was more serious than initially thought.

Overall, this murder mystery also explored heart-warming themes, such as love; forgiveness, redemption; and, atonement that apply to society today.  Unlike other murder mysteries, A Christmas Journey focused on solving what secret, not which person killed the victim.


write on the walls

New author seeking constructive criticism! [14 Jan 2016|07:56pm]

alexherbert
Hello everyone, I'm a writer of fantasy fiction looking to get comments on my material - much of which is posted openly on my LJ in reverse chronological order :-) Criticism is very much appreciated because I'm having a hell of a time getting any of my friends to read it. If this piques your interest, or if it's so awful you carry a lingering grudge, please visit my journal and leave your commentary or abuse on more of my writings.

Chapter Two - The Winter KingCollapse )
13 scribbles| write on the walls

Story Writing 101- Actual Human Edition [12 Jan 2016|12:18am]
amberadraper
When people learn I've got two books (and counting) to my name, they then tell me how they have scratched out a few pages here and there but can't seem to get it together well enough to turn it into a complete book. Let me start off by saying- that is awesome. Scratching out a few pages here and there is absolutely how stories get started and I am very proud of you for taking that first step! :)

"But writing a book start to finish seems impossible!"

Yeah, writing a story from Point A to Point B is nearly impossible. That's why I don't do it that way. Everyone is different and you have to find what works for you, but I find I write best in scenes or "pieces". Let's take an example from The Mage Council. Early in the book Anika is put into a situation where she completely loses control, causing a huge amount of destruction and even a few deaths. That scene was completely written before I asked myself why did she felt so threatened and why was she in that situation to begin with? The existence of Duane Black, Anika's siblings, and Chateau de Bellerose are all an extension of that first piece.

Currently The Mage Council sequel does not have a beginning because I haven't been able to settle on an intro I like, even though it literally picks up exactly where TMC left off. You know what is finished? The ending. I know exactly how I want it to conclude, which makes it easier to figure out what needs to happen to get to that point.

You also have to be flexible. Can we talk about how different the final draft is from the original in every book I've written? The science in TMC is fairly mild compared to the in-depth explanations I started out with, when I decided 'molecular composition of lead? Snore'. VT (aka The Dangers of Falling in Love) was written almost in order. Meaning the opening scene is actually happening in the middle, then we rewind to the beginning to figure out what the hell happened to get everyone to that point. Lost? Yeah, my test-readers were too so that ten page intro was almost completely scrapped. What little I did keep was re-written from a different perspective and plugged in to the now linear time-line. So the middle was written before the beginning and the ending was complete before the middle was totally fleshed out.

What I am trying to say here is that to create a masterpiece you're probably going to jump around a bit. And that's okay. Know what your heart pounding, head clashing, bodice tearing major scene is? Write it out. It could be months before you come up with some kind of context to place it in, or it could be minutes. I have scenes in my writing journal that I came up with independent of each other and months apart, then decided they fit nicely into the same story arc. Sometimes that's just how it works.

Whoever said the shortest distance between two points is a straight line obviously never tried to write a book! ;)

End Blog #1

My plan with this blog is to address some of the questions aspiring writers are asking and to just throw out my general thoughts on the writing market. Have a question about my experiences with agents, publishers, readers, etc? Feel free to ask and I will try to address it :)
3 scribbles| write on the walls

fiction [10 Jan 2016|10:27am]

ruderod
I had no remorse for the Promethians. As the Xray blaster toasted a hole into the surprised leader, I watched the screen as the chaos unfolded. My breathing sped up as I feared they would rush this direction, but it looked like they scattered. I could only imagine the screams, I was 400 yards away and the sound didn’t carry that far. I hear the double beep of the xray blaster telling me its seconds away from being ready to fire again. Now its time for heavy artillery. One more check of the fire control solution, and yes it looks like many pale green citizens around that triangle building. They won’t be alive for long. I flip off the safety and hit the fire button. Three seconds. . one, two, three, and a bit more, then booom. After the smoke cleared, I see a handful of the men still moving, and about twenty bodies. I am not sure if the leader is one of the dead.
Read more...Collapse )
write on the walls

Insomniac City: Our story begins with a... [20 Dec 2015|11:14pm]
foritall

"BAM! His d--k fell off. Just like that!"

"Levy, I'll have to ask you to refrain from using language like that in my house."

The young man smiled mischeviously at his sulking friend. "I was hoping my story would get you out of your crapy mood. Guess not. By the way, what are you upset about anyway?"

"Nothing that really concerns you." His companion replied curtly. "And even if I were in a better mood, I'll never be sick enough in the head to understand your morbid humor."

"Sick in the head?'" Thought Levy. "Sick in the head?" How was he sick in the head? Everyone he knew loved his jokes. And that one was one of his bests!

"You're the one who's sick in the head." He mumbled with a pout. "Your so pissed, that it's infecting my mood too."

He said nothing more as he watched his good friend, Gartier the bartender finish wiping down the sticky, wet counters. A token of patronage left by last night's customers. Though in Gartier's opinion, a tip would have been preferred.

It was a tiring job to do indeed. Levy was tuckered out from just watching his friend tidy the whole place up. Actually, it might've tired out Levy watching anyone do work, being that laziness was his forte. But with Gartier it was different. No one actually cleaned like Gartier. Wait, correction. No human being cleaned like Gartier. And this Levy believed to be the whole truth and nothing but the truth.

Gartier had what he liked to call a system. Before he had even opened up this tavern- no, this palace, about a week ago, he created a special 'Cleaning Inventory', where he wrote the name of all the names of furniture, glassware, and silverware, along with what they were made out of, and according to that, how they should be cleaned and what they should be cleaned with.

Along with other points like 'How they should be dried.' or 'How long they were expected to last.' ecetera. 

It sure was a sight to see. The guy was so obssessed with cleaning it was scary. He could tell just by the wood of the table, and the leather of the seats, what cleaning product to use, and how long it would take him to clean messes in certain places of the tavern. In fact, he spoke, and took care of this place like he had lived here all his life.

"Yes. Of course I've lived here." He told Levy once on an occasion prior to today. "Ah. But only in my dreams."

Dreams. The word echoed in Levy's head. Like a lonely voice calling for someone at the end of a long corridor. But Levy ignored the call. Dreams were nothing but a silly concept to him. A myth. And even if they were real, he hadn't remembered the last time he had one, since he rarely ever slept. 
Besides, from what he had heard and learned throughout his life living here, dreams were nothing but random, jumbled images created by your subconcious. They produced ridiculous, imcomprehesible plots and situations that were in the past, seen as something mystic or otherwordly. When really, all they're used for these days is as an excuse to start wars, and leave him with a bigger mess to clean every single time he'd finish taking care of the one before.

'THUD.'

The counter shook vigorously beneath his arm. The sound was loud and sharp enough to cut the cord attaching his mind to a vicious cycle of tense thinking.

"What you've been waiting for good sir." Announced Gartier. "Your medicine."
With a sudden turn of the heel he left Levy in his moment of bliss. For if he had stayed any longer, he might have lost all composure from looking at the stupid grin on Levy's sleepy face.

"Ah God bess you Garty, you're a saint, I swear it!"
And after the gratitude was spent, Levy wasted not one more second with words of adoration. He lifted the tall cool glass to his lips and quenched the fire in his mouth that could only be put out with one thing, and one thing only:

Beer.

Ah. The heavenly liquid shimmered beneath the light hanging overhead like glowing amber. 
It cleansed the mind and heart of any trouble. Of the most burning questions with unattainable answers  and ideas that come with the load of living.

Ah, yes. Beer is truly a-

Wait. 
Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait.

Levy stared in disbelief at what awaited him at the bottom of his now empty beer mug.

"F--k." The poor man whispered to himself. Staring blankly at his murky reflection in the pristine marble counter, he let what he had seen settled in. He attempted to persuade himself into looking again, to see if what he had seen was what he'd saw. But his body refused. He knew all too well what he saw wasn't a dream. He didn't believe in dreams anyway.  It was no use.

Then suddenly, as if some sort of raging evil pervaded his spirit, he slammed the glass down onto the counter with a force that spoke clearly for his anger. And again, with just a little bit more volume to shake himself from the numbness, he yelled with profound power,  "F--K!"
writers

art, bars, beer, city, depression, dreams, fiction, writers, insomniac, love, nsfw, poetry, profanity, taverns, travel, wait, wars, welcome, writing

write on the walls

Horse Feathers [30 Dec 2015|09:57pm]

kayiscah
HFCoverKindle300.jpgI just released my new fantasy novel Horse Feathers.  It's a free download for those with Kindle unlimited for a limited time.  $2.99 if you're buying it otherwise.

http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B019YWBE2W

This is a coming of age tale about a young boy named Phillip who was bored with his routine life at the unicorn stables and dreamed of adventure and a pegasus.

Before the Fairytale is a set of books that feed into my novel Seventh Night.

write on the walls

Book Review: Advent of Dying by Sister Carol Anne O’Marie [30 Dec 2015|02:23pm]
authornwolf
Originally posted by authornwolf at Book Review: Advent of Dying by Sister Carol Anne O’Marie
Finding her loyal secretary Suzanne Barnes murdered outraged Sister Mary Helen.  Even more appalling, her murder occurred during Advent, a time of high expectations for the birth of Jesus Christ.  No one knows who could have murdered Barnes, and no one know much about the reclusive victim.  Thus, finding the killer depends on knowing Barnes’ past.  As Sister Mary Helen launches her own investigation, she discovers that the quiet young woman had led a troubled life that followed her many miles to San Francisco. 

Meanwhile, Kate Murphy-Bassetti grapples with deciding whether to become a mother or continue being a detective.  Her husband Jack Bassetti longs for a baby and hopes his wife will share that vision.

Using vivid details, Sister O’Marie illustrates the winding streets of San Francisco, the fickle winter weather, plus the juxtaposition of a mother who gave up the baby she loved and a mother who has every opportunity to keep her baby.         
write on the walls

Insomniac City [15 Dec 2015|12:18am]
foritall

Don't trust a sleeping city.

It sounds silly, I know.

But that's the motto here in Calum city.

And it's a saying that most of the citizens keep in mind. Especially when walking its disquieting streets at dark.

The saying, though being ridiculous, holds so much depth and truth for the people here. Some may argue, "Well, what city sleeps?"

And the answer is none as you'd expect.

But in Calum, sleep is more than it means. It is a facade, a mask used for protection. A strategy used for the means of defense.

Any softly lit room, behind any closed curtain could be a gathering on the meditation of a soon-to-be murder. Any civilian could have a waiting knife beneath a damp, sweaty pillow. Any yawn, or quivering eye lid just begging for rest could be the trigger for some sort of uproar somewhere in Calum.

These thoughts and actions though fueled by a  'ridiculous' premonition, run through the minds of every living, conscious and paranoid citizen. Like a mad man lost in the labriyinth.Young or old, weak or strong, smart or stupid, you will find yourself following the same mentality of the fear filled masses.

Because everyone is the enemy in sacred Calum. Here, no matter what social standing, or level of intellect you may have...

As long as you live here one thing is certain:

You'll die like the worthless, walking, wasted mounds of flesh you are.

But...I digress. What matters isn't the aftermath, but what mark you leave on the face of the earth before you go.

So without further ado, welcome to the brillant lights, breathtaking sights, as I guide you through a paradisiacal night in Calum.

Or, as its dweller's like to call it, 'Insomniac City'

Insomniac ®

                                            ********

Thank you for reading, to be honest, i've been here a few days actually and I really look forward to people's comments for my first time writing on livejournal for the public. I would appreciate your most honest, yet humble opinions. Questons, I would be happy to answer too. Again, thank you.

writers

#adventure#livejournal#romance#welcome#writingnsfw

3 scribbles| write on the walls

Need editor for novel, would pay. [18 Dec 2015|08:07pm]

kingodin
[ mood | curious ]

I recently finished going through my novel Saga Terra: Odysseus with the help of Text Aloud and AutoCrit, and need a professional editor to go through the book to see things that need revision or I missed. I would be willing to pay.

2 scribbles| write on the walls

What Happens to The Ones That Gets Left Behind [08 Dec 2015|08:57pm]

fighter_warrior
[ mood | thoughtful ]

What Happen to The Ones That Gets Left Behind Part 1

It looked like your average high school hallway, girls gossiping and guys checking out the cheerleaders.
Charlie stood by his locker, holding it open with his as he looked around in the hallway.
Not far away from Charlie's locker stood, a group of girls, chatting, but ever now and then one of them would look over at a locker across the hallway.
Charlie would look over at the locker, too, wishing that the owner Hayley, would come, but she will never show up, because a week ago, she killed herself.

He stood by his locker, thinking back to the day, a week ago, when his homeroom class was told Hayley was dead, classes had ended early that day and Charlie had ran out of the class, mad and angry at the world for taking his best friend away from him.

Charlie had been so lost in thought, that he hadn't noticed his locker had cut open his hand.
"Argh, crap." He mumbled, when he realized he was bleeding, he took a piece of cloth from his locker. He heard a chuckle next to him, and smirked knowing who it was. "Really again Charlie? What it's like the 3rd time this week?" Said Alisa, a girl with cole black hair down her back, she was one of Charlie's best friends.
Charlie, Alisa and Hayley has been friends since 4.grade.
"Hey Al. It's not my fault." He said.
 "Then who? It's not the locker's fault. It didn't do anything." Alisa said with a joking tone.

As Charlie and Alisa walked down the hall to class would stare at them, mostly it was because they knew how much Hayley's death had effected everyone, especially Charlie and then there is the football players who is just wating for Charlie to lose it, one of the team's player used to date Hayley, so when he started talking trash about after her death, Charlie got furious and hit the guy, Charlie broke his nose.

First periode is one of the few classes Charlie and Alisa didn't had toethger. He did use to have the class with Hayley, he would still look at her empty chair, and think back to their last class toegther. As the rest of the students came into the class, Charlie looked down in his notebook, not making eye concact with anyone, they would stare at him one way or an other.
The bell rang as everyone started getting up, Charlie noticed that a girl looking finally to Hayley, had sat in her seat.
  "Can I help you with anything?" the girl, asked as she noticed looking at her.
  "No, you just reminded me of someone I know." CHarlie said and walked out the door and headed twords the door to the roof.

Alisa was sittng on a box, looking out at the school front steps.
 "Hey." Charlie said as he closed the door, he grabbed one of the many boxes that were left on the roof, "How was English?" Alisa asked, as he sat down next to her.
 He shrugged his shoulder lightly and said "It was okay. There were a new girl in class today, she sat in the seat, and she looked like her."
 Niether Charlie or Alisa couldn't say Hayley's name, it was to much of a reminder.
Alisa looked at Charlie, she knew what it ment. "I know it wasn't her, but still feel like she is watching me, you know?" Charlie asked. Alisa nodded, "Yeah, I know. I feel the same."

They said in silence looking out on the school front for a while, Alisa snorted a little laugh, Charlie looked at her, "Do you remember the day her and Blake broke up? Nobody could get her to come down, but when you showed up you sat next to her and she just wrapped her arms around you, and carried her down like it was nothing." Alisa said, she gave a little smile, Charlie smiled at the memory too.

Around 4 months ago, Jessica, one of Hayley's teammates came looking for Alisa cause Hayley hadn't shown up for pratice and couldn't finde her, Alisa didn't even have to think about where she was. Alisa just went to the roof to find Hayley crying, after an hour and half Alisa gave up trying to calm her down, she called Charlie to come and talk to Hayley.

"Yeah, seams like forever ago." Charlie said quitly, they sat in silence rest of the periode, looking out at the school.

It looked normal, like nothing have change, not like someone took their life a week ago.

2 scribbles| write on the walls

Book Review: The Racketeer by John Grisham [03 Dec 2015|09:01pm]
authornwolf
Originally posted by authornwolf at Book Review: The Racketeer by John Grisham
Malcolm Bannister spent five years of his life in prison for a crime he unintentionally committed.  He sensed something amiss when his anonymous client kept revising his real estate transaction.  Yet, Bannister continued to represent his client and later found himself sentenced for ten years.  His only escape is to reveal the murderer of Judge Raymond Fawcett.  The remaining pages revealed how Bannister sought revenge against the federal government for indicting him.
Though this novel is fictional, the accuracy of how Federal Bureau of investigation (F.B.I.) agents would conduct a background check or verify alleged criminals may be questionable.   As with some of his previous novels, Grisham enlightens readers about portions of the law, transferring money overseas, and alluding federal authorities.  Overall, The Racketeer is educational and suspenseful but, at times, leaves questions unanswered. 
write on the walls

Book Review: Cards on the Table by Agatha Christie [17 Nov 2015|02:55pm]
authornwolf
Originally posted by authornwolf at Book Review: Cards on the Table by Agatha Christie
Four sleuths and four alleged murderers convened at a dinner party.  None of them knew each other personally.  But, their host Mr. Shaitana knew dark secrets about the four alleged murderers.  Hours later, Mr. Shaitana was found dead with the knife left in his body. 

Each alleged murderer had a motive for making sure Mr. Shaitana kept his or her secret, making any one of them the culprit. Furthermore, each of them had an equal opportunity to murder Mr. Shaitana.  However, motive and determining who was most likely to execute the crime were irrelevant to exposing the murderer.  Instead, the four sleuths, Hercule Poirot included, had to learn who had enough gall to kill Mr. Shaitana while three other bridge players in close proximity vied for a wining hand.  Determining who bore that psychological composition required delving into the incriminating pasts of each alleged criminal.  The inquiries revealed stunning revelations, plus characteristics that made each suspect more likely to have murdered again.

Overall, the plot carries enough plot and suspense to keep readers guessing who murdered Mr. Shaitana.  More than ever, Christie explored human psychology to illustrate how crimes are committed in a similar fashion.
write on the walls

ForbiddenFiction is looking to expand our team of authors, editors and proofreaders! [16 Nov 2015|01:17am]

forbiddenfics
Call for Submissions
Erotic fiction in all lengths, genres, sexualities and kinks!


ForbiddenFiction.com is a publisher devoted to writing that breaks the boundaries of original erotic fiction. We are seeking stories which combine intense sexuality with quality writing. If it's a well written erotic story, we'll consider it.

Click for more information!Collapse )

ForbiddenFiction.com also has Free Memberships. Sign in to read new free fiction every day!
write on the walls

Book Review: The Murder of Roger Ackroyd by Agatha Christie [04 Nov 2015|02:57pm]
authornwolf
Eight suspects gathered in a room for one last chance at confessing to the murder of Roger Ackroyd.  No one confessed.  Each of them had a motive for murder.  Some of them had placed themselves in a financial quagmire.  Some of them stood to inherit a significant sum.  One of them blackmailed the woman Mr. Ackroyd loved and was about to be exposed.  But, only one of the suspects would kill to keep a secret.

At the insistence of Flora Ackroyd, whose step-father was murdered, Hercule Poirot agreed to solve the case.  With the help of local physician, James Sheppard, Poirot uncovered shameful but useful secrets.  Moreover, Poirot proved how even supposedly insignificant details, such as time and the placement of objects helped identify a desperate killer plus solve other mysteries.

Overall, The Murder of Roger Ackroyd is constantly intriguing with new revelations in each chapter.  Christie showed how common sense organized clues when solving complex mysteries.
write on the walls

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