Hows my story (book) so far? its not edited... best answer gets 10 points immediately.?

You need to: Criticize my story (Good or bad),say what you didn't like and what i should change.





Story:





There I was, on the mud-spattered ground of the devil’s cave, facing death itself. The wounds that had been caused ached and the blood loss weakened me; a sign, I was defeated. All these years of fighting evil and trying to make peace with other tribes, were oblivion. I tried to fight, to stay alive, but I couldn't; my eyes burned and my heartbeat was slower than ever. I knew this was a dead end, for me, and for the poor, innocent, witches and wizards I brought alongside. Guilt overwhelmed me, they are all in the devils belly, as the expression says, and soon, I'd be the cause of their deaths.


“Stay with me Amelia!” a familiar voice shouted over my head. It was the man I loved so much and was afraid to lose over the years, but the wheel spun, and he is now losing me. I faintly turned my head to look at him. He stood behind the bars opposite mine; his long black hair was smoothly over his shoulders and his ripped garments indicated that he was injured, but not as greatly as me. Tears escaped his blue eyes, scattering down his cheek and leaving a damp stain on his red shirt.


“Julian,'; I said, not louder than a whisper, ';I love you.”


“Stay with me Amelia!'; he shouted again as my eyes started to close, ';I love you too much to watch you die and I assure you...I promise I'll get you out. We'll get married as planned; remember? We'll have a family! Please Amelia, struggle; fight for me!”


I closed my eyes shut, trying to commit to memory the time I chose to be converted into a witch and leave what was already built, behind me.





* * *





It was on a breezy night in mid-November. My family and I had gone out for dinner, to celebrate my sixteenth birthday in a five star restaurant when they introduced me to Will. He was a gentleman (mid-twenties) with short black hair and dark brown eyes. He wore a black suit with a red blouse underneath and had the most annoying foreign accent I had ever heard. He claimed he was half Scottish and half English and that he lived moderately in both countries for over five years before he decided to move to America.


“Darling, you want a cigar?” he told me. I glanced over at my parents and gave them both a harsh and painful look as if to say ‘You’ll pay for this later.’ Usually, when a girl turns sixteen years old, she’d rather be partying with her friends than be stuck in a restaurant with parents that are trying to hook her up with a total stranger.


“Sorry,” I said and gave him the pretend smile I used so often. “Cigars aren’t my friends.”


“Whatever you say my dear.” He talked to me as if he knew me for years and acted as if we’d gone out before, which irritated me. I often glanced at my parents, only to see them bemused of Will and his looks. I could tell that they both had big plans for us, but trust me; they wont anytime soon, not without my apprehension.


I looked at the watch on my wrist and saw that we had only been sitting for one hour, which seemed like a century to me when I was near him. I imagined all the pillow fights, dances, makeovers, and sleepovers I could have had with my friends and got depressed over the fact that this was the worst birthday ever!


“So, Will,” my mom interrupted my thoughts, “what do you do for a living?”


“Well, I…I hem underwear and bras for women.” I bit my tongue and lip to keep myself from laughing out loud. I looked at my parents, again, to see that they were stunned, but my mom’s face lit up like a Christmas tree afterwards. Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no, I thought to myself as—


“Do you have water bras, you know, the ones that make your breasts seem bigger and much softer? What’s it called, Melon bras? Do you have those in size 34C? I am in a big deed here; my breasts are shrinking every day!” my mom blurted out without even stopping to catch a breath. She said it so loud that the people sitting on the nearby tables started to laugh. Damn it! Cant this night get any worse?


Will smiled. “Actually, Mrs. Stuart, we have new models coming next Tuesday. They’re called Wonder bras because they do wonders.” He looked at my mom’s chest. “It’ll make your breasts twice as big and you don’t need to worry about needles and pins popping them.” My mom and Will went on with the conversation of underclothes for another five minutes. Great, what a humiliating night!Hows my story (book) so far? its not edited... best answer gets 10 points immediately.?
Are these two seperate stories or is the first one the prologue? If so I liked them both. I cant believe I cried on the first one but the second one made me laugh when she called the bras melon bras. I think you would be a great author someday I would actually read your books.Hows my story (book) so far? its not edited... best answer gets 10 points immediately.?
I liked it . I think your writing should show more conversation with the people in your book.Thanks.
prologues good everything else is boring...u need to make it attention grabbing...








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Okay I love the prologue but the rest not so much I might consider a rewrite but I must say absolutely amazing prologue! Please continue writing I would love to see what happens! This story has great potential. I must say good job and keep it up! :)