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Intro for a YA Paranormal Romance Novel (1,060 words) (1 Viewer)


Senior Member
Hello there everyone;

I've been up to my eyeballs busy with work lately, but I did start work on a new YA paranormal romance
and I'm keen to find out what some of you think of the intro. This is very brief so far, partially because I
want to avoid posting too much of the story online before it's published, but I'd appreciate any feedback
or thoughts from those of you interested in sharing.

Thanks in advance;

- Alexandria de Loraine

YA Paranormal Romance Intro

“So can you cover my shift for me on Saturday?”

Anastasia looked at her with large, pleading eyes, and Ravyn found she was unable to resist. Giving in after several long moments, she sighed, “alright, I’ll take your shift, but seriously; this is the last time. I have a life too, you know.”

Not that anyone would know it to come in here most nights…
she sighed, resigning herself to another long weekend in Purgatory, one of the hottest nightclubs in town, serving a bunch of under-appreciative jerks who tipped badly, eyed her up all night and tried making bad passes at every available opportunity. Ravyn could hardly contain her joy at thought of it.

“Oh my god, thank you so much,” her younger coworker gushed, leaning forward to give her a hug, “you have no idea what a lifesaver you are, Ravyn. I’ll make it up to you, I promise!”

“Yeah, it’s fine,” Ravyn rebuffed the blond waitress’ attempt to hug her, holding up her hands defensively and stepping back toward the bar, “don’t mention it.”

Casting a look over her shoulder, she was grateful to have the bartender come to her rescue. Adrian had seen her in distress and slid smoothly toward them. Addressing Anastasia he called over, “drinks are up for the VIPs, here you go,” he presented her with a tray of alcoholic concoctions and within moments she’d taken up the tray and clicked away in her spiky black heels and too-short skirt to serve their guests in the VIP lounge.

“Thanks Adrian,” Ravyn intoned across the bar as she took a moment to lean back and relax. Her tables were all tended, drinks and meals delivered, so she had a few minutes to kill.

“It looked like you needed a good out,” he smiled, glancing down the bar to make sure everyone was tended to before looking back over at Ravyn, “so you’ll be here all weekend again, eh? I’m off on Sunday, but I’ll be here tomorrow and Saturday.”

Nodding, she sighed and said, “at least one of us gets out of here occasionally.” She laughed lightly, shaking her head and looking sidelong at Adrian from across the bar. He was a handsome guy, with dark brown hair and vibrant green eyes, but things had never gotten more than casually flirtatious between them.

“If you want to cut out early, you know my number,” he reminded her with a suggestive grin, “or I’d be happy to pick you up after your shift.”

Ravyn only laughed lightly at his often-used line, shaking her head, “You know I don’t do workplace romance, Adrian; but thanks for the offer.”

Feigning a deeply wounded look, he turned away from her for a moment, then returned with a bottle of chilled hard cider in his hand, “thought you might like a drink of this, by the way.” Offering her the icy beverage, he leaned against the bar and watched Ravyn take a drink.

“It’s good I’m getting off soon,” she commented, taking another swig from the drink before handing it back to him. Its alcohol content was pretty negligible, especially since she only took a few small sips, but their management didn’t approve of any drinking on the job.

“Do you need a ride home? I’m off twenty minutes after you,” he offered, and Ravyn considered it for a moment before shaking her head. Although he’d given her a lift home several times before, she’d meant what she said about workplace romances. After working together for nearly two years, she didn’t want to mess up a nice, casual friendship with romance or sex.


“Are you sure she’s one of them?” Davenport asked, eyeing the slim, dark-haired waitress as she stood near the bar, chatting obliviously to the bartender. He didn’t see anything special in the young woman, there were no dead giveaways in her behavior, and he looked at his partner skeptically.

Roy just nodded, his cool, dark eyes never leaving her. Of course he was sure; he’d never been mistaken when it came to identifying chattel. The sight of her bloodmark, invisible to the untrained, naked eye, stood out like a glowing sigil to him. Each time her black hair swept away from the back of her neck, he’d seen it, absolute confirmation that the waitress who served at Purgatory six nights a week was in league with vampires.

Worse still, though better for him in a way, if the mark on her neck was anything to go by, she was chattel of a very powerful vampire from the House of Solari. It had been years since Roy had seen that mark, but he had a long memory and he hadn’t forgotten what they’d done.

“Just wait until her shift is over, we’ll take her when she leaves the club,” he reminded Davenport, leaning back comfortably in his seat and draining the last of his beer. After setting the empty glass down, he relaxed for another fifteen minutes, watching as the waitress made her final rounds, collecting the last of her tips.

It never ceased to surprise him, the kinds of people who got involved with his blood-sucking enemies of the night. A lot of them were respectable people, at least on the surface. He shook his head in disgust, but couldn’t help wondering how this girl got involved with them. She didn’t look the type; she had no piercings or tattoos, though her skin was pale and smooth.

Well, he’d find out soon enough. She hardly looked like the fighting type to him, and with Davenport in tow he was certain she wouldn’t be able to slip away, either. Whatever tricks her Master may have taught her, they wouldn’t help her tonight.

“She’s leaving,” Davenport nudged him, antsy to leave the booth and follow after her; but Roy shook his head and took his time putting his jacket back on.

“The bartender’s watching, slow down and take it easy,” he instructed his overzealous companion for the evening, “she’s not going anywhere fast, so relax.”

Dropping a few bucks on the table for their drinks and tip, Roy led the way casually out of the club and wasn’t disappointed. The waitress hadn’t gone far. She was heading away from the club on foot, and he pulled Davenport toward his truck, “come on, we’ll follow her.”
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Senior Member
Mechanically, this piece is very good, which I appreciate. On my first read-through, the only thing that stood out to me was how the name Ravyn made me wince. I'm not your usual audience, though, I'm sure, so maybe just ignore that.

On my second read, I noted that I'm really not sure which the "dark-haired" waitress is. I'm looking now to see if I missed a cue. Ahh, ok, I see: it's not the hair that's mean to be the tip-off, but the fact that she's standing at the bar talking to the dude.

I'd have liked the bloodmark thing to be a little more concrete.

Also, "enemies of the night" sounds like a description for a vampire slayer more than a vampire. Just a little ambiguity there. :)


Senior Member
Hey there Archer;

Thanks for the feedback. Insofar as her name, I can completely understand your reaction to it at first, but I think
it'll grow on even those who dislike it initially. She's got character, and there's a decent amount of symbolism in
the story as a whole, including other character names that come into play later. And, yes, the audience is a range
of ages but it does include younger teenage girls. ;)

With regard to the 'enemies of the night', perhaps a bit of misreading here? I intend for it to read as the vampires
being his 'blood-sucking enemies' who are 'of the night', thus 'blood-sucking enemies of the night'. Not that the
vampires are enemies of the night, but that they are creatures of the night and are his enemies. xD Does that
make more sense?

Thanks again for the feedback, I look forward to hearing from anyone else who might have a comment or two to
share. :)

- Alexandria de Loraine