# Excerpt from Romance/Comedy/Drama Novel.



## RanyR (Jan 7, 2011)

This is just a very small scene that takes place in a household shared between three adult siblings and their respective partners (Just temporarily). It is in no way reflective of the premise of the entire novel. It is a start of establishing the relationship of the characters with each other, thus having Christina (The partner of the main sibling), having interactions with all the other siblings.

I look forward to your opinions.

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She lays blissfully asleep, wrapped in a sea of silk sheets, a faint smile dresses her lips. Her delicate fingers are spread across the pillow, fingers that are a perfect fit between mine, intertwining effortlessly as though we’ve been woven into one fabric. I kiss them gently – Lemon – the scent of the new hand wash we bought yesterday. I rest my head beside hers, watching her serene smile and I stare in admiration; her supple features are lined with beauty; the curve of her lips and the arc of her nose are laced with an infinite amount of grace. Through the parted mahogany blinds, the pleasant heat seeps into the room. In the sun’s luminous glow, her profile is etched into a shimmering silhouette against the wall, an eclipse, edged with a golden lining. I pull open the blinds completely, the glistening sun pours over us, bathing us in an ethereal golden halo. A sea of copper-bronze hair drapes over her bare shoulders, the subtle waves of dark chocolate amidst the smooth hazelnut tones entwine seamlessly around the fine bend of her collar bone, where our four year relationship anniversary present decorates her flawless skin – A brilliantly exquisite Topaz cut with impeccable clarity, crafted by her father.

The sweet smell of Jasmine and Honeysuckle mellows, dancing across the frame of the room and weaves into the bed sheets. I trace my finger over the smooth canvas of her body, exploring the planes of her curves. Like an architect, I have memorised the blueprints of her body, landmarks pave the expanse of her skin, memories tattooed across her, engraved into her outline. I trail the path of her stomach and absorb the soothing heat, wandering upward toward her chest. I spread my palm over her breast, searching for a heartbeat. For a moment I could swear that time has stopped. The planets cease to orbit, the cosmic-pattern is flawed and the Earth swallows all sound until silence resonates. Then, suddenly, I am overwhelmed by the pulse that penetrates into my hand, searing me with raw passion. It’s an odd feeling, the throbbing of her heartbeat at the core of my palm, but it reminds me that I’ve won – The woman I love with every fibre of my being is right here. And she loves me back. With my hand embedded into her heart, I lean over and taste the grace that dresses her lips. I’ve learnt the mechanism of her mouth, the flawless design by which it is crafted. I draw her delicate frame toward me, and with a smouldering embrace I worship the slender curves of her mouth.

I feel the warm weight of his body shift over me, drawing me into his grasp. I coil into his embrace, wishing to lose myself in his arms - arms that consume me, that shelter me from the world. When I feel naked or vulnerable, he clothes me in courage. His gentle hands make me feel delicate yet secure, It’s the way he holds me – A regal and protective grasp. I revel in the elegance of his humility, allowing his tongue to take the lead in the eloquent dance of our kiss. I sink back into the pillow, our faces inches apart.

‘Morning, Prince Charming.’ I whisper into curve of his ear, with a brilliant grin I cannot help but wear.
‘Prince Charming? Well that isn’t cheesy at all.’ He grins back, ‘You know what’s not charming though? Your breath. Morning make-outs really aren’t that great’ 
I teasingly lift up the bed sheet and cover my mouth with it.
‘It’s not that bad, it doesn’t keep you from eating my face every morning.’ 
‘Maybe that’s because I am holding my breath when I kiss you - It’s that bad. But it’s okay though, the rest of you balances it out so it’s bearable.’ He leans over and kisses my lips through the sheets. ‘Much better, we’ve found a cure.’ He sneers.
‘Well while we’re at it, why don’t we find a stubble cure because it’s now become physically impossible to kiss your face.’
‘You know I hate shaving, yet razors and grooming products are all I seem to get for birthday presents now. Besides, you secretly love the whole hairy and rough thing, you know it's badass.’ A shimmer of mischief flickers in his eyes. 
‘Hate to point it out but you’re wrong on both accounts.’
Ezra props his head up with his elbow. ‘Do tell why.’
I imitate his position, ‘Firstly, “Hairy and rough” gives me facial carpet burns, secondly, it is not “Badass”, it is called looking like a tramp.’ 
‘Well, after four years of your bad breath, suicide is an attractive life choice, so I guess I win.’, we mock each other back and forth.
‘Forgive my attention to technicality, but you can’t win if you’re no longer alive to claim the prize, therefore I win by default and I get to find a guy who doesn’t have a tree growing on his face.’
‘Tree, huh? Well, you know trees need to be looked after.’ He cracks a wide smile and beings to get on top of me. ‘Maybe your face can brush off a few dead leaves.’
‘Ezra, don’t you dare!’, I warn him with a playful smirk glazed across my lips. ‘Facial carpet burns won’t go down well with the school kids, it’ll traumatise them, is that what you want.’
He sits up right, on top of me, and ponders the thought for a second, ‘I can live with that.’ before he rolls me over and rubs my face with his.
Like a giddy school girl I giggle hysterically, but I manage to grasp his face between my palms, inches away from mine, and breathe out a heavy lungful of his favoured morning breath. We continue stirring between the bed sheets, until we’re startled by a sudden voice.
‘Christina, Where are the hair-straighteners?’ Ezra’s just about older sister, Elira, gargles out. She leans against the frame of our door while she brushes her teeth in her flimsy grey and pink pyjamas. Her usually long and sleek brunette hair is haphazardly tied into a messy bun. ‘If you keep having this much sex you’ll break her vagina.’ She mummers after our delayed response.
‘We’re not having sex. We’re cuddling, normal, unsexy, cuddling’ Ezra answers back.
‘Which is why I can see your erection from here, you guys are terrible. And I’ll be the one you complain to when he has literally destroyed your uterus with his savage thrusting - which by the way is ridiculously loud, I can hear it two rooms down. Anyway, where’s the hair-straightener?’ 
‘I’ll tell you if you help me hold him down’ I bargain with her.
‘Elira, if you help her I’ll savagely urinate in your hair conditioner.’ His pity mocking attempt at blackmail.
‘Blackmail and mockery, nice.’ Laughing I raise the stake, ‘If you help him, not only will I never let you use the hair-straightener, I’ll ferment my used tampons with in his savage urine and put them in your mouth while you sleep.’
‘You are far more twisted than I thought.’ Ezra laughs, turning to face me and kisses my forehead.
I nod in agreement, ‘It’s what happens when parents substitute bed-time stories with R-rated horror movies.’
‘How are you both teachers? The kids are probably more mature than you.’ she scoffs sarcastically. ‘I am brushing my teeth, and unless you want my ‘colgate extra mint’ saliva and drool all over your bed, I’ll pass on the much appreciated invitation to whatever kinky role play you guys have going on. Just tell me where the hair-straightener is and I can get out of your hair, no pun intended.’
‘Plus one point for Elira’s excellent use of the English Language.’ I snigger.
‘I know, I’m awesome. But seriously, where is it?’
I lean over the bed wrapping the bed sheets around my bare chest with one arm and point across the room with the other, ‘I think it’s in one of the boxes over there, the one labelled “Christina”’.
‘Seriously? How have you guys not unpacked yet, Robert and Evelyn’s room looks like they’ve lived there for years.’ 
‘That’s because Evelyn’s got OCD, and they have a baby on the way so she’s a hormonal Nazi and needs to get everything ready.’ I turn to Ezra, ‘And we’re lazy, so go figure.’
Elira lets a smile creep on the side of her mouth, ‘So I’m stuck in between a hormonal Stepford Wife and two horny sloths.’ 
‘Precisely.’ I wink back, ‘So what did you need the hair-straightener for anyway, going out somewhere special tonight?’
A dash of crimson red seeps into the flesh of her cheeks ‘What? No, no. I’m going out with Emma and Lilly, I haven’t seen her – them I mean, in months’.
‘Wow, you’re such a terrible liar. You only go red like that if you’re turned on, or, blushing because of someone you’re turned on by. And by using my brilliant teaching analytical skills, I’m guessing you’re not into incest, least I hope not, and you’re not a lesbian, so no one in this room should turn you on’ I smile convincingly at her, ‘Who is he?’
‘You know you go down on my rankings of favourite people every day.’ She snorts trying to hide back a smirk. ‘He’s some guy I met online, and no, he’s not a stalker or a sex offender or whatever kind of stereotype there is out there. He’s trustworthy and honest and...’
‘...And I suppose he told you all of this? He told you that he wasn’t a sex offender because that’s something people strike up in a conversation.’ Ezra intercepts. ‘Hi I’m Bob and I practice safe sex – with adults of course, because I’m a certified non-sex offender, with a laminated certificate to prove it.’ He mocks in a high pitched voice.
‘You know what, I don’t care. I don’t care what you two think. I’m dating for the first time in month and I’m happy. Happy-happy Elira. So I’m taking my happy self into the bathroom to finishing brushing my teeth, then I’m getting ready and I’m going on a date.’ Glancing at 
Ezra she continues, ‘A date with a gentleman, who won’t slaughter my ovaries daily with his uncontrollable libido.’ She declares with a iridescent smile and skips towards the bathroom. 
‘Don’t forget to tell Fritzl to use a condom!’ Ezra shouts after her.
‘Broken vagina!’ she shouts back from the hallway.
I turn to Ezra as he slips out of the bed to get dressed, ‘Imagine if you could actually break my vagina.’ I ponder, amused. 
‘No worries, you still have another two holes left.’ A devilish grin painted on his lips. 
‘We’re going to hell aren’t we.’ I whisper from behind him as I drape my arms around his neck.
‘Two-for-one First class tickets already reserved’ he flashes his grin from over his shoulder.

There are so many things you need to get used to when you move in with your partner. It’s unchartered land, establishing common ground, laying down some house rules, having to tolerate their bad housekeeping and habits. You probably will find yourselves arguing over miniscule things that you didn’t even realise where an issue before you began living together. But I guess it requires a certain level of compromise, but compromise can be good, it can teach you different things and make you a more grounded individual. Moving in with someone is like exploring an alternate realm, you will be apprehensive and cautious with most things, but more than anything you’ll be surprised by all the brilliant perks there are. You can have breakfast together and eat from the same cereal bowl, you will always have good company and you can even parade around naked if you wish. When you move in with someone you learn to correlate both your unique personalities and cultivate a new amalgamated persona, one that seamlessly blends both of your finest qualities, into what will become a superior hybrid.

The only thing is, I’ve moved in with an entire family. After Ezra’s dad passed, it became difficult for them to maintain payment on their previous house, and after a while that caught up with them, things got complicated and they were forced to relocate. This all happened while Evelyn was around three months pregnant, and now she’s just over six. She’s a domestic goddess I kid you not, and as the eldest - by over a decade - of the three siblings, she’s also very nurturing and maternal, like a secondary mother to all of us. She’s absolutely wonderful with kids, always coming to visit me and Ezra at the school we teach in and baking treats for the kids. Robert, her husband of five years is a police officer, they’re struggling with money and so they’ve moved in with us, but he doesn’t complain because he loves what he does. He’s hardworking and grounded in firm loyalties. We always joked that they would raise model children, with a strict disciplinary father who has the power of the law on his side – He is also an incredibly loving person, he worships his wife – and a compassionate, strong willed mother who is naturally one of those women who was born mother material. They’ve been married for five years and tried to get pregnant ever since, they’ve had conception problems but the miracle happened six months ago and we know they will love this child with momentous reverence and an infinite amount of adoration. 

Elira is the middle child, but she’s only two years older than Ezra. Those two were inseparable since children, I would know, we were all raised together. They can read each other so well and have their own level of connection, finishing off each other’s sentences and analysing facial expressions and body language others wouldn’t even acknowledge. I respect and admire their relationship, she’s just as much a sister to me as she is to him. Hilarious, witty and intelligent are three words that encompass the person she is. Elira’s always been sharp, she has this inherent cunning ability to read people very well; she’s innovative and quick thinking, basically, she has all the makings of a business C.E.O, but instead she has crafted a small humble charity that helps victims of HIV/AIDS across the country. She broke up a long term relationship about seven months ago - he wanted her to liquidate her charity business and move with him to London, where he had a received a job promotion. It was understandably overwhelming for her; she refused to move and he ultimately chose the job promotion over her, which broke her heart and left her reeling in devastation – her love life has been perched on a lifeless shelf ever since, lurking in a state of despair – until now that is, with her new found internet dating scheme, albeit, a little unorthodox but if it makes her happy then we’re supporting her.

‘I should probably get dressed too?’ I look to Ezra for confirmation.
‘Well I’m fine with you walking around naked, but I’m not sure the others would be so accepting.’
I toss a pillow at him, ‘Maybe I should casually stroll naked into Evelyn and Roberts’s room and see how they react.’
‘As epic as that would be, I think you’ll induce a seizure in them.’ He grins as he begins to button his shirt. I slip into one of his large shirts that lay slumped on the ground, then hop out of the bed and assist his buttoning.
‘So what are we going to do about the teaching grant? Whatever it is we have to stick together, I don’t want to be in the same situation as Elira was.’ I ask as I trace my fingers along the buttoned seam of his shirt.
‘Well we’ve both applied for it through the teaching committee so there isn’t much we can do but hope and wait. Lots of hoping and waiting.’ A subtle smile of comfort cracks his lips.
‘But if only one of us get it, what will we do, it’s an entire year apart.’
‘If that becomes the case then we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it, but we have to think positively, it’s such an amazing opportunity, besides, a year away from your morning breath and my facial vegetation can’t be that bad.’ He kisses my forehead for reassurance.
‘You’re humour isn’t working, but you’re right, I’ll just have an affair with some random clean shaven guy to pass the time.’ I smirk at him while straightening his collar and pull him in for a kiss. ‘Alright, I’m going to get dressed but you have to shave for your mums birthday today.’
‘Me no like shave.’ He squeaks out while making a sad puppy face.
‘Fine, trim at least, before it grows into a national park.’

I rummage through the stacks of unpacked boxes that litter the majority of our bedroom, searching for a particular strapless black dress. As I shift through box after box, I increasingly regret not unpacking sooner, at least the clothes, by the time I find this one dress I could have showered, gotten dressed, had breakfast and been ready to go to work. I understand that a strapless black dress might be quite an unorthodox clothing choice for teaching, but, it’s Ezra’s mothers birthday tonight and the dinner party is right after I finish work so I won’t have time to get changed, that, and also because I secretly want to see the other teachers reactions, but the latter is more of a perk than anything. I find a box labelled “Family stuff”, not my handwriting, so I assume it’s Ezra’s. The tape has already been cut and the folds of the cover unveiled, although I can’t recall either of us packing or opening this box. I figure as the box was already opened and its contents open for display, it isn’t something Ezra wouldn’t want for me to see, so I peer inside to learn its contents. It is full of pictures, albums and sentimental ornaments. It’s dusty though, as if the pictures are long forgotten memories, memories that have been fabricated and left in solitary confinement – until now.

I sit beside the box and pick up the nearest picture frame, squared and rigid, I gently blow at the collection of dust that coats the fine lining of the frame and the glass that holds the picture in place. It’s an old picture, one when Ezra was much younger, about seven or eight, his smile is iridescent even with the missing teeth, a smile that still hasn’t lost its innocence, one that doesn’t have to be faked or forced, oblivious to the horrors of the world that await, it’s natural and beautiful. He’s perched on his father’s shoulders, like royalty, his father’s smile also blossoms with bliss, a snapshot of their lifelong relationship. They were so close, best friends even, but since he died Ezra hasn’t really reacted to it, maybe it’s just the bereavement process, everyone deals with grief differently, it’s just that with Ezra it’s as if nothing really happened. I hear the vibration of footsteps approaching on the floor I’m sitting on so I quickly place the picture back in the box and continue looking for the dress.

‘Christina, you know I love you, and that I don’t particularly like the sound of my own voice, so I’m going to tell you this in as little words as possible,’ Evelyn declares as she paces towards me in her floral maternity robe, her baby bump balloons the fabric around her waist creating an almost curtain like drape over her lower body. ‘Stop having sex!’ She howls.
‘Nice robe, really brings out your figure.’ I joke but she continues to pace back and forth.
‘Christina, I’m serious, stop making so much noise. It makes Robert so uncomfortable and awkward that he can’t even get it up, so I don’t get any, please, I’m begging you, I need, need, sex. I’m tired and hormonal and this huge baby bump doesn’t exactly ooze sex appeal, not to mention your unproductive sex stealing moans. I’m asking, no, I’m telling you share sex time in this household!’ 
‘Eve, don’t you think you’re kind of exaggerating?’ I hold her in place and put my hands on her shoulders.
‘You see how you’re holding me right now?’
I nod, slowly, trying to follow where she’s going with this.
‘This is the most physical contact I’ve had in days. You having sex is great, I’m happy for you, really I am, but your sex stealing moans aren’t okay, my vagina needs all the loosening it can get before this baby comes out, and it will never look the same afterwards so he needs to capitalise on this golden window period,’ she takes a breath, ‘You following me?’
I try so hard to keep my laughter contained, I bite the insides of my mouth and purse my lips together then nod. 
‘Good, well, please don’t tell anyone we had this conversation, I don’t want to seem like some sex crazed woman but I have needs.’
‘No, no, you’re completely right, I’ll have Ezra gag me or something, I get you completely, my lips are sealed.’
‘Oh and another thing. The vulgarity of this household needs to be reduced, massively, I don’t want my child’s first words to be something out of a “Karma Sutra” book, okay?’
‘Right, okay, we’re working on that too. Anything else?’
‘You guys should unpack those boxes as well, and clean up around here, I don’t want my baby to be marinated in filth.’
‘Sure, nothing else?’
‘Wear something nice for mum’s birthday today.’
‘I’m onto it.’ I nod, masking my grin with a polite smile.
‘Oh, and good morning,’ She hugs me then begins to leave, ‘Don’t be late for work as well.’
‘Yes, Mein Führer.’ I snigger as she finally leaves the room.


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## greggb (Jan 8, 2011)

There are some really eloquent lines in here!  There really are.  Your descriptions are very good, too.  As for criticism... it may be a matter of personal taste, but I like to see some progression of the story early on.  Maybe allusions to things that have happened or are happening.  Also, your description of the woman, by the man, isn't what I'd expect from a manly man, which is kind of what the dialogue makes him out to be.  There are some inconsistencies... he practically makes the woman out to be a goddess, then tells her she has bad breath in a rude way.  I was also a little confused by the change in perspective, where first it's the man describing the woman, then vice a versa with no explanations.  

Again, really great descriptions!  Just work on character consistencies and let us know what's going on in the story.


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## RanyR (Jan 8, 2011)

Thanks a lot for your feedback. When he tells her about her morning breath, he is mocking her and she is aware of that and proceeds to mock him about his beard. He doesn't say it with rude intentions, it is just the humour of this couple who have known each other since childhood and always mock each other.


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## RedEmbassy (Jan 8, 2011)

A few things: The way you write your sentences; they are long and complex. Interwoven into a complicated fabric. But that's not always a good thing. Particularly here, where the long lines actually get in the way of simply saying what needs to be said.

Having said that, you have an eye for detail, and you set up the scene very well, at least in the beginning. But as sentence after sentence rolls by, I couldn't help myself grow bored with the story and stop reading.

Finally, This is probably due to the fact that this excerpt isn't the beginning of the story, and I'm not sure if tension developed later on, but this seems like the story is going nowhere. I'm not sure how this excerpt actually develops the plot of anything, except as an epilogue. It might be better to cut this out of the novel altogether.

Some things to try:

Try writing more curt sentences. Balance describing detail with conflict that moves things along. The way it is now, I get lost in the details.


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