Of Fire And Ice - A Young Adult Romance

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Thread: Of Fire And Ice - A Young Adult Romance

  1. #1

    Red face Of Fire And Ice - A Young Adult Romance

    Quote Originally Posted by krishenry View Post
    Hey, everybody! Been working on this story the last couple of days. My very first YA Romance story which I hope to one day publish and sell. Inspired after reading "Easy" by Tammera Webber. A MUST READ/AUDIO LISTEN.

    My story is still in the development stages, but I plan to have it be about 15 chapters long and I have 3 written so far with chapter 4 in the works. I hope you will enjoy this Just let me know if you want more and I'll do my best to get it up. Wish me luck and happy reading!
    Of Fire And Ice
    By Kristen Crawford
    Chapter One
    I made my way down the quiet streets, pulling my jacket closer to me as a chilly autumn breeze blew through, hitting my face dead on. Winter was right around the corner and Mother Nature let everyone know it. My college classmate, Lindsay, had invited me for coffee at Starbucks that morning. Being the caffeine addicts we are, I couldn’t say no. And it was just down the street from campus, so it wouldn’t take long at all for either of us to get there. Or any other coffee-loving students like us for that matter. I told her I’d meet her there as soon as I double-checked my morning homework and freshened up. So there I was…

    Entering the shop warmed me immediately as the door closed behind me and I scanned the room slowly, searching for my friend.


    I looked towards the voice, a slim, bubbly, blue-eyed blonde waving her arm to grab my attention. Lindsay wasn’t just a roommate, she’d also become my best friend. Funny, considering we were nearly yin and yang. I was quiet, somewhat laid back, while she was energetic and a bit silly. Her cheerleader looks giving her that innocent yet kick-butt-as-needed appeal. And as the weeks passed, she sort of grew on me.

    I smiled and headed towards her, taking my place in the opposite side of the booth from which she sat.

    “Hey, Lindsay. You haven’t gotten your coffee yet?”

    “I didn’t want to seem impolite.” she said. “Thought it would be more fun to stand in the line together.”

    “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long. You know how it is in this weather. So hard to know what to wear.”

    “This weather? Girl, I’d say that’s an everyday thing!”

    “That’s for sure.” I agreed, a slight chuckle in my voice.

    I shrugged off my coat, setting it aside to reveal the yellow sweater underneath, resting my hands on my blue jeaned lap, the fabric still cool under my fingers from the chill outdoors. I gave them a few brisk rubs with my hands to warm them, hoping I wouldn’t accidentally shock myself afterwards.

    Moments later, we both stood in line, about three or four people - most likely students - in front of us, a couple more behind.

    “So what are you doing after exams?”

    “Ugh…don’t even say that word!” I hated exams. Tests in general. Sure, I had a 4.0 GPA, and I liked my teachers and most of my classes. But that doesn’t mean I liked everything about them.

    Lindsay smiled. “You know I had to. Being so close to vacation time.” I roll my eyes at her. “So? What will you be doing?”

    “I dunno. My parents are always working so I’ll probably just be spending it alone.”

    “That’s no fun! Maybe you can do a bit of guy hunting to pass the time.”

    I rolled my eyes again at her smirk. I’d had many boyfriends through the years, but they never stuck. And I wasn’t about to try again anytime soon. Not that I wasn’t a looker myself. I too had that slim build, with chocolate brown hair that fell past my shoulders, a bit of natural wave included, and bright green eyes. And I was certainly nice enough…I tried to tell Lindsay the ‘Maybe I’m just too boring’ line, which earned me a jab to the ribs and a pep talk.

    After placing our orders and receiving our drinks, we prepared them to our tastes and headed back to our booth in silence.

    But once seated again, I threw her question back at her. “What about you? What are your plans for break?”

    She took a sip of her coffee, glancing up at me mid-sip before swallowing, cradling her cup in both hands. “We’re hoping to fly down to Florida this year. A bit of a change from the snow and ice. But I’m worried my mom may get too spoiled and not want to come back.”

    I held in a laugh, imagining Lindsay’s father dragging her mom back to the plane, tied like a classic damsel-in-distress while kicking her legs and screaming like some little kid.

    “My parents are always traveling. Dad gets called who-knows-where and Mom tags along, practically by instinct. It’s not a boring life, but it’s not always fun either. But at least I’m here and we do still have holidays.”

    “At least this year we’ll have something in common.”

    “Just don’t get eaten by alligators,” I teased with a smile, tilting my own coffee to my lips.

    She laughed and I laughed with her, the subject of exams and boyfriends briefly forgotten. Briefly.
    Last edited by krishenry; November 25th, 2012 at 02:32 AM.

  2. #2
    Join Date
    Oct 2012
    Maine - we're here so you don't have to be
    First of all, don't have the narrator use the present tense. It doesn't sound right.

    I make my way down the quiet streets

    I look towards the voice,

    I smile and head towards her,
    Use the past tense.


    Who are these people? Is one of them the main character? What kind of story will this be? Does their conversation give any clue about what will happen later?

    Here's the first page of my own book, Empress Theresa...........
    ..... I’m Theresa, the only child of Edward and Elizabeth Sullivan, and I hope it’s not bragging to say I was cute as heck at age ten. Everybody in the Sullivan clan said so. I was the princess in the Sullivan family of Framingham, Massachusetts because besides being cute I was a whiz in school. All the Sullivans expected great things from me.

    ......Nobody could have dreamed of what I would do a few years later, and nobody would have believed it if they’d been told, but when this story began I was a little girl who didn’t have much of a clue about anything. My job as a kid was to figure out what the heck was going on and what to do about it. It’s not easy when you’re young and everything is brand new.

    ......My father was in the Navy. He said I had to be the captain of my ship but sometimes the seas would be rough. I had to learn all I could about the world. Yeah, well, why should I be worrying about it in the fourth grade?

    ......I was home alone at age ten while my parents worked but I was safe. Mom and dad installed one of those new child safety alert systems. All I had to do was quickly squeeze two buttons on my bracelet three times and the whole street would be blasted with a siren’s earsplitting wail. Neighbors were always around and the security company would alert the police.

    .....I had good parents. By the time I was ten they convinced me I should get myself through the school years without drug or boy problems. There are girls like that, you know. You wouldn’t think so to look at the news. I find it strange that people are interested in news about troubled girls, but wouldn’t want to associate with them.

    .....Our house was next to a pond close to the river where all the neighborhood’s kids had spent many happy hours looking for turtles and frogs. I was lounging on the deck reading a book on the school summer list.

    .....Taking a momentary break from the book, I noticed a red fox walking along the pond's edge.
    1. The title hints that Theresa is or will be important, but here she seems to be living in ordinary circumstances. Her parents seem to work because she's home alone. How will she become an "Empress"?

    2. She is cute and bright.

    3. She has good family support.

    4. She will do remarkable things in the future.

    5. Apparently nothing has happened yet.

    6. She is being raised to be a good girl.

    7. She doesn't seem to have any worries.

    8. We already know everything that can be known about a ten year old girl who hasn't done anything yet.

    9. The action will begin with the appearance of the fox. And we're off and running!

  3. #3
    Guess I will have to do more editing then...And I worked so hard on this too. Then again it is my first. Shouldn't be too hard to change it to past though. I'd been so anxious to get it down before it slipped away, I wasn't thinking 100%

    And to answer your questions, 1) Becky is the main character 2) It's Young Adult Romance as stated told in Becky's POV and 3) Yes, it hints it

    Thanks for the feedback. I will get this fixed and reposted with the revision once i feel less tired

  4. #4
    It's fixed now I think I'll work on the other chapters soon

  5. #5
    This seems like a good first attempt at writing.

    There are a few things that I'll point out:

    1) There is a voice change in the last sentence of the opening passage. It starts out as first person past tense, but the last sentence changes the voice to an active narrator. Strictly speaking, the POV character is the narrator, but they aren't necessarily narrating the story... If that makes sense.

    2) It's hard to say without reading the rest, but I don't see the importance in this scene. It's mostly about cold weather and coffee shop etiquette. A first chapter is the most important part of a work for pulling in readers. It needs to be a hook that makes people think "Yes! I must keep reading!"

    3) I'm unsure about the dialogue. I don't truly understand much about the existing relationship the girls have, but it fluctuates in how formal they are with each other.

    Over all it's a good start!

  6. #6
    Thanks for the review and critique

    I apologize if this confused you a bit but everything will be better explained on how they met in chapter 3. I just wanted a unique opening for my story and chose this one. I will be posting the next 2 chapters shortly.

  7. #7

    Red face Of Fire And Ice - Chapter 2

    Here's chapter 2 Hope you will like it
    Of Fire And Ice

    By Kristen Crawford
    Chapter Two
    After coffee and returning to campus, I entered the building and headed up the stairs to my Animal Biology class. Yep. Animal lover. And I was hoping to become another zoologist of the future. Where would it take me? Local zoo? Park reserve? Alaska? Who knows. Like they say, ‘The sky’s the limit’.

    I stepped through the door finding the class already almost half full, some of the students sitting, others standing, a mix of their conversations filling my ears. I tuned them out politely as I headed toward the back, my seat the fourth down in the third row. My backpack fell with a soft thud as I let it fall from my shoulder onto the white linoleum floor beside my chair and opened it, pushing a side of hair behind my ear as I reached in to gather my books and notes.


    I looked up at the source of the voice to see Patrick smiling at me. Patrick was one of those people who fell into the “nerdy” category in most schools. Slightly pudgy but not necessarily unfit, glasses and bright red-orange hair that always looked like he just got out of bed, contrasting hazel eyes. He didn’t have many friends and while I didn’t really consider him one myself, I didn’t dislike him either.

    He smiled as he leaned down a bit, voice lowering to a whisper. “Hey, would you happen to have a pencil I could borrow? I must’ve forgotten mine in my rush this morning. I have more, but they’re fresh.”

    I nodded and pulled one out from my front backpack flap, holding it out to him. A pre-sharpened No. 2. I knew all too well how time-consuming (and embarrassing if timed just right) sharpening brand new pencils could be. Even with those electric sharpeners. I’m more partial to pens and mechanical pencils myself, though I will still use the classics when I feel it’s needed. This happened to be one.

    “Thanks,” he tells me, still smiling as he takes it from my fingers. “I owe you one.”

    I returned the smile and we both glanced toward the front of the classroom, straightening in our seats as the teacher entered the room. Mr. Collinsworth - Gerald Collinsworth – was about 5’9, in his early 30s, black hair and brown eyes with glasses, wearing a lab coat over his regular clothes that had been buttoned so just his legs and feet showed underneath. He looked more like he belonged in a science or forensics lab than a classroom, but then again, he clearly knew what he was doing. And he was kind and patient, a helpful state-of-the-art guy everybody liked. Myself included.

    He cleared his throat, watching as the remainder of students took their seats.

    “Good morning, class.”

    “Good morning, Mr. Collinsworth.” We all replied in unison.

    “I hope you all are prepared for more essay reading. Ms. Fox.”

    I lifted my head and he nodded, gesturing toward the whiteboard. I nodded back, butterflies suddenly in my stomach as I gathered my papers and headed over. I could feel him and the rest of the class watching me as I kept my head down, mentally noting which parts to read as I glanced at my assignment and I cleared my throat softly before I began.

    “The gray wolf, scientifically known as canis lupus, is a member of the Canidae family and also the largest, with the males begin bigger than the females. It is one of the world’s most well researched animals, residing natively to wilderness and remote areas of North America, Eurasia and North Africa, roaming the earth for over 150,000 years.
    It is a bit larger than a german shepherd or sled dog, males weighing 95 to 99lbs and females at 79 to 85lbs, although size and weight do depend on the breed. Wolves weighing over 120lbs are uncommon, though exceptionally large individuals have been recorded in Alaska, Canada,and the former Soviet Union. The heaviest recorded gray wolf in North America was killed on 70 Mile River in east-central Alaska on July 12, 1939 and weighed 175lb, while the heaviest recorded wolf in Eurasia was killed after World War II in Kobeliaky, Poltavskij Region, Ukrainian SSR and weighed 190lbs.
    Wolves are highly social and territorial both visibly and vocally and hunt in packs and though their sense of smell can only reach about 3kms, their sense of hearing surpasses that of even the fox. And they eat various types of large and small prey even fruits and grasses and they can go up to two weeks without food.
    They mate for life, usually in late winter or whenever sources are plentiful and gestation lasts 62 to 75 days with the pups born in summer in the safety of the den, which they can leave at the age of three weeks and by autumn they are mature enough to join their packs in hunts.
    Enemies of the wolf include bears, hyenas, but mostly tigers and humans, humans being the most responsible for their population and habitat decline and is now considered an endangered species.”

    I looked up with a shy smile at the scattered applause, mentally breathing a sigh of relief as the teacher thanked me and I headed back to my seat. Gazing at the clock, I realized that only seven to ten minutes had passed. This was going to be a looong hour…

    A week or two later, Lindsay and I were packing up, our room now in disarray as we sorted through clothes and necessities, trying to decide what to and not to take with us. We had the next four days off for Thanksgiving and the college and its dorms would be closed during. Mom had called me earlier that afternoon to tell me they’d be back from their business trip in Missouri that following morning. I approved and told her I’d ride with Lindsay in the meantime. Or rather..she’d ride with me. I was surprised. One, because I was actually going to have this “quality time” every dream family has and two, because Lindsay had decided to ride with me instead of her boyfriend Brad, whom she’d been dating since our freshman year last year. Typical athlete/cheerleader couple. How cliché…

    Fighting the urge to roll my eyes, I looked back at her. “Sure we aren’t forgetting anything?”

    “Seems good to me. Though I think we may need a miniature bulldozer to clean this place up..” she replied as she looked over her shoulder at the floor, the embarrassment evident in her voice. “You’d think our closet exploded.”

    I smiled in silent agreement. It did look like that. But as usual, Lindsay has a way of finding humor in just about any situation.

    “Are you sure you don’t mind me riding back with you? I mean, I wouldn’t want any feelings of keep-away with your boyfriend.”

    “It’s fine, Becky, really. Believe me, if I didn’t want to, I would have said so by now. It’s not like I’m dying or anything. So relax, okay?”

    I nodded. She was right. I had no reason to worry and riding home alone is never fun anyway. Not when it came to the holidays. And not only would we be having Thanksgiving with everyone, but we’d be taking another flight together the next day. Most likely up north. Dad wanted to take us up to a ski lodge for a second one as well as some leisurely time. Last time I was skiing must’ve been at least ten years ago in Wisconsin. But this one was…Canada? British Columbia to be exact.
    I glance out the window, seeing the first flakes of snow falling, as if someone was merely giving it a light dusting. Then I began to think about my family and their overnight flight. What if this got worse overnight? What if this flight got cancelled? What if…

    Lindsay calling my name broke me from my thoughts and I blinked up at her, not even realizing I’d zoned out. “Huh?”

    “I said, are you ready to go? I’m all packed up.” She raised her arms, elbows bent, showing me our suitcases. For someone who was so petite, she could sure carry a lot.

    “Yeah. Sorry, I was just thinking about this weather. You don’t think it will get worse, do you?”

    “Nah. It hardly looks like a sticker. But if it does, you can always drive slow. Safety first, right?”

    I put on my coat and followed her out the door, being sure to lock up before doing so. Once out into the parking lot, I unlocked the door to my red 2012 Mercedes Benz, immediately turning on the heat while Lindsay tossed our suitcases in the back seat.

    “Brr! Nippy out there!” she cried, rubbing her hands together. Buckling up, I carefully backed out of the parking space and the lot.

    Thanksgiving break had officially begun.

  8. #8
    Join Date
    Oct 2012
    Maine - we're here so you don't have to be
    An author must decide when to use dialogue and when to use descriptive narration.
    Dialogue can get in the way of the situation, of what's happening.
    For example, why should the reader care about the teacher's long description of the wolf? Is this information needed for the story?

    In this opening to chapter 7 of my Empress Theresa, there is only one line of dialogue, but look what's going on. Theresa is teasing the world while waiting for the very serious meeting to begin.

    Theresa and Prime Minister Blair are about to have a one-on-one meeting on live television with four billion viewers.

    .....I walked into a small meeting room on the ground floor. Four television cameras placed at different angles were pointing at a small table with two chairs. The table held a large loose leaf binder, a pitcher of water, glasses, notepads and pens. Besides the camera crew there were twelve government people and two hotel staffers. There were no other guests although thousands of highly placed people had called asking to be invited. The meeting was too important to risk interruptions.

    .....I was early and Blair was not there. He was probably caught in the bathroom. The meeting could last for hours and he didn’t want to be knocking his knees with billions of people watching.

    .....I walked up to the table and stood there. After a moment I opened the loose leaf binder. It contained my MISSION IMPOSSIBLE file. My eyebrows went up in surprise. Then I resumed my gaze at the entrance I thought the Prime Minister would use.

    .....The whole world was watching. My hair had dried and flared out in that magnificent mane that ooh’ed and ahh’ed everybody. My green outfit was modest, only five inches above the knees and with not much cleavage, but didn’t hide my well turned figure. All right, my chest and butt were well outlined. There. I said it. So call the police. Was I conscious of the effect I had on viewers? Everybody knew I was or I would be sitting down! I could imagine Steve grinning from ear to ear.

    .....I glanced at a TV screen. It showed my magnificence in full length profile. The technicians started grinning. They knew, and knew that I knew they knew etcetera. I struggled to maintain an innocent expression, but the grin worked its way out.

    .....I couldn’t help myself. I had to say it.

    .....“You should see the little black nothing dress I had on the first time Steve entered my dorm room!“

    .....The technicians and government men all laughed hard enough to burst a blood vessel.

    .....Who could blame me for taking a once in a lifetime opportunity to flaunt it to the world!

    .....While I posed Blair came in the same entrance I’d used and walked to the other side of the table.

  9. #9
    Do you think perhaps our kind and gentle OP would like comments on his work rather than have his thread turned into an advertisement for someone else's project?
    "The only calibration that counts is how much heart people invest, how much they ignore their fears of being hurt or caught out or humiliated. And the only thing people regret is that they didn't live boldly enough, that they didn't invest enough heart, didn't love enough. Nothing else really counts at all. It was a saying about noble figures in old Irish poems—he would give his hawk to any man that asked for it, yet he loved his hawk better than men nowadays love their bride of tomorrow. He would mourn a dog with more grief than men nowadays mourn their fathers.

    And that's how we measure out our real respect for people—by the degree of feeling they can register, the voltage of life they can carry and tolerate—and enjoy.

    Live like a mighty river: a letter from Ted Hughes to his son, Nicholas

    Hidden Content

  10. #10
    Did this use to be in present tense? If so, I'd change it back. It reads better in present. Has more momentum; it galvanises the tone.

    If not, I still think it reads better in present. But don't worry about it.
    Sleep is for the weak, or sleep is for a week.
    I write about anime and internet culture at Hidden Content

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