Good Morning/Afternoon/Evening/Night(whichever one it is in your part of the world),
Hi! I'm here to leave a quick review!!
First Impression: Okayy...so this is a pretty intriguing starting point here. I think you have done quite a good job with things here...and it has certainly got enough to interest me to want to read further.
Anyway let's get right to it,
Desperation compelled the longhaired nobleman to make haste. The heel of his shoes alerted the sleepy inhabitants –the young lion returned. His thick mane of pale gold waved. His dark mahogany eyebrows set low.
Desperation inspired the viridian-eyed blonde to slam the door behind him. Sharp intakes of breath resembled a broken dog's yelp. Their tempo increased -becoming staccato cries.
The senses focused on the agony. A dark cloud enveloped his mind. A lightning storm started in that cloud. Bursts of white-hot pain assailed a single point in the very back of his skull.
Well, this is an interesting start. We've got ourselves a bit of a rather poetic sounding slightly exaggerated description there. We've got a lot of big words being tossed around and I think it works neatly to bring up a pretty strong image here. The only thing I'd suggest a change for is perhaps the continued used of colors, they are interesting shades, but there is a loooot fo colors which is a bit repititive.
No! His mind protested: not this. Not again! A solid year of control crumbled. Clove knew what was to come. It was too late to pray to a god that wouldn’t listen.
"No," his jaw clenched. A burst of violence –his fist collided against the mahogany desk. Pain flashed, distracting him momentarily from everything else. His knuckles throbbed. It didn’t last for long.
A metallic taste washed over his palate –blood? He couldn’t be bothered to discover the root cause. His bones encircling the lungs threatened to snap in two.
And it appears this man here is suffering from a bit of a predicament here....I wonder what this could potentially be about. Its certainly nothing pleasant and this is certainly very intriguing to read through here cause you do find yourself wondering how and why all of this is going down in this fashion.
Sweat broke out –the forehead, his hands. The foreigner cursed France’s heat. His Nordic blood yearned for a cooler climate. Clove yanked at the suffocating shirt. The fine silk material tore. Tattered remains fell to the ground.
The worrisome thin body fought his will. Clove staggered towards the bed. He fell to his knees, so close. Beaten hands clasped the comforters.
The yelps worsened. His head felt light.
"No.”
Hmm....I'm really liking how the sentences are subtly getting shorter as we go along here. It conveys his body almost sort of shutting down and slowly starting to succumb to the effects that he's feeling here. You're certainly painting quite the powerful picture here.
Pale limbs trembled with the effort.
“No!”
He yanked himself up. Twisting, the body contorted. Clove's mind struggled for dominance over the body.
“No.”
An acute, sharp pain burst in the back of his cranium at odd intervals. Tears ran down his cheek. Her name came out, “Lissette.” He bellowed.
Hmm, some of those words there perhaps don't belong quite as well as they should. Its okay to set the scene with powerful worlds, but things like cranium in the midst of a part where the sentences have been getting shorter and its all started to look rather bad for the main character kind of sticks out too much and can ruin the flow.
It hurt his heart -Lissette forever lost to him. She belonged to the mighty House of Clement –to its only heir, Thomas. A mere boy of fourteen with far more influence and wealth than Clove could aspire for. The foreign young man in comparison, seventeen, belonged to an obscure house as a minor lord.
"Ah!" he howled. His head! Clove covered his ears.
Well...this is a little bit on the vaguer side but I think that's a good thing here considering it is the very start. Its not vague enough to leave us confused, but there's plenty of mystery for us to want to read on and find out more.
He ended up on the floor, crawling feebly away from everything. His chest jolted in spasms. More air went through his lungs -not enough came back out.
No one would come; he knew no one could save him.
Experience told him he would survive.
His instinct argued he was dying.
"Dear God," an all too familiar voice gasped. He hoped his instinct was right. The man wished for sweet death hearing her voice.
Well...it ends on what I think is a fairly decent culmination of this steady sense of impending doom that we've had throughout the description in this chapter. So...I think a pretty fitting end point to this piece here.
Aaaaand that's it for this one.
Overall: Overall, this is a pretty good start for a story here. I think it only needs a bit of ironing out here and there but for the most part this does its job rather well and I think I find myself interested enough to want to read more here.
As always remember to take what you think was helpful and forget the rest.
Stay Safe
Harry
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Reviews: 4099
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