Writing Challenge (opening lines to a novel)

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tannus
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Re: Writing Challenge (opening lines to a novel)

Post by tannus »

The towers of Zenith aspired above the morning mist; austere towers of steel and cement and limestone, sturdy as cliffs and delicate as silver rods. —Sinclair Lewis, Babbitt (1922)
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Drakka Reader
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Post by Drakka Reader »

They ate everything. His clothes, his sheets, and the food he had stuffed into his floorboards in case of a rainy day. They had towered over him, stolen his gun, and snickered in his face. Damn rats.

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She held out a bloodied hand, nails dripping scarlet from self-inflicted wounds. "Take it." Her gentle smile was so sweet, so gentle, like a cat certain it had caught the canary. "You want to be happy, so dream. Believe."

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The moss of the city let out a gentle glow, substituting for stars in the sky, but never the sun. No, the sun could never look upon such violent affairs. A shadow streaked across the light, overtaking another. Another day. Another kill.

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Her claws overtook the footprints, dwarfing them as her weight drove her into the concrete. The rats encroached foolishly, so she had to kill them. It was only fair when they threatened her by consuming her people's blood. Death. The pests could not become more than pests.

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The most beautiful eyes pinned him with their stare, the beast more a king than any mere animal. In the dim glow of moss, unarmed, and staring into those eyes, he didn't like the fact he thought this would be an ok way to die.

All of these are actually ideas for one book's opening. Hope it's nice!
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sevencrows
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Post by sevencrows »

It was a pity that the man had to die.

He possessed a sort of cherubic quality, a sort of untainted innocence that you didn't often find in the unforgiving streets of Vaisdam--rosebud lips half open, golden curls falling over his forehead, skin so soft it almost glowed beneath the moonlight. In another life, perhaps, she would take him to dinner under the stars and he'd give his heart to her as a lover's gift. This life was crueler, though, and that couldn't be helped. In this life, she'd rip his still-beating heart out of his chest to present to her master, and she'd be all the better for it.
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