Punctuation is important.
So is spacing.
Don’t write it as if we were reading a big block from the bible.
If you space things out it’s way easier to read.
You also don’t have to keep writing “she said he said”.
Obviously you have to show who’s saying what but you can substitute words.
Edits
Freehold, book 1
First page:
Note from the author
This book is about many things. What things truly are. Very, very little is what you first take it to be. Even less, is what you take it to be after another glance.
This book is about being Human. What it is to be truly human. The forms we take. The masks we wear. The identities we craft around ourselves. Just because something is not… human, does not mean it is not human. Just because something, or someone, is “human” on the surface, does not mean that it is truly human.
However, that will be expanded upon later.
This book is also about romance. Not just in the violent moments that we have come to expect these days. It is about romance in the quiet moments of life. In a touch. A word. A glance. In a heartbeat. In the silence between.
Good luck. I hope you find this worth the time you spend reading it, and enjoy reading it, as much as I do creating this world.
Now. Let us begin, shall we?
Second page:
Prologue
The man stands, facing the hulking shadow. Grim. Relaxed. Sad, too.
"Get it done” he says, voice tired. “I can’t help you. Would I if I could? Yes. But… I can’t. I-”
"Just need your blood. I don’t need you.”The other man, a tall, bearded figure with wild unkempt hair, dark skin and cold green eyes snarls.
The first man only chuckles, a hollow rasp in his throat.
"No. You do need me. I can’t help you, in any case. I would if I could, believe me. I have had chance, after chance, after chance. If I could give her another, and it only costing me my old life?” the old man sighed exasperatedly.
“I would make that trade, gladly. But. My blood won’t help, Borus.”
"You.” The other snarls, taking a menacing step forwards, looming over the much smaller figure.
“You wouldn’t help?”
"I would.” The other says.
“If I could. I just can’t. Even if you did have leverage on me- which you don’t, I’m presuming? It wouldn’t do any good. My blood is old. She needs fresh blood. Young blood. Bound blood.
My mate died long, long ago. (I honestly don’t know what this is referencing)
However. There is one.
Freehold.
I don’t know whom but you will have to find them yourself.”
(I don’t know if I edited this big ol’ dialogue as you intended but i tried)
The large man stands. "I don’t want to kill you.” He says, voice breaking a little.
"No.” The other says, a sardonic smile flitting across his face.
“You don’t. But you will. You can’t not. I know where She is. You can’t have another living soul know where your light is. Your heart is. The last being on this world, who makes your existence bearable. (?)
"You are as crazy as they say,” the big man says. “You knew, and you still came. Why?”
The smaller figure just grunts.
"I don’t really know, Borrus. (is his name Borris, Borus or Borrus?) I don’t fear what you would do. You’re not a monster. Not yet. You wouldn’t use the innocent. The pack’s laws. They still give you strength. Still bind you in welcome chains. Still keep you… Human? Perhaps. I do not know.
Now. Get it done. Fast, if you please. I hate it, you know.”
The big man grunts then.
"Good by, old friend. I-” (I’m confused with these dialogues)
"It’s ok.” The smaller says, moving to place his hand on Borrus’ shoulder. “Just…Do it. I hate long farewells. Remember Reo?”
"Not helping, asshole.” The big man growls.
"Sure it is.” The smaller says. “Just making sure you know why you’re doing this. Not for you? Not for blood? Not because of anything. You’re doing this because of her. Her, and her alone.
Monsters kill to feed. Kill for themselves. Humans? True humans? Supernaturals. Enhanced. Off-worlders? Baseliners? Whatever. We kill? We kill, for others.
You’ll remember that, won’t you? When they take you down? When they put you in a cage? When the one you work so, so hard to save? Tares you apart and eats your corpse. You, being the first feed of the cold heart who will live alongside her soul. (What?)
"All that looking into the future really does mess you lot up.”
The big man, Borrus, says with a smirk. “That’s why you were so damn good at cards.”
The smaller, just shrugs. "Be a dear and eat my corpse. Won’t you? Not like I will need it anyway. Might as well make it count for something, right?”
The large man nods, then springs with his hind legs, bone snapping and popping as he moves. Blood splatters the wall. A corpse falls. The shadow stands for a second. Then, gently, closes the corpse’s eyes, before turning, hefting the corpse into his arms like a mother, or father, with a precious child, and setting his face into a mask.
His mask.
Freehold.
It was time to go to Freehold. Time to find this. Seeker (?) . Time to save the only thing in the world he had left. The only person in this world, who keeps him Human. Keeps him from devolving into the monsters that he had once hunted. Once killed. Once protected the weak from.
Borrus grunts, sharp fangs flashing from his muzzle before a single pair of bloody footprints stretches out, towards the door. Then, the door closes. Silence rains in this cold room once again.
Third page:
Thud, thud, thud.
Thud, thud, thud. (This just intensifies words)
Wishing the banging would just go away, I rub at my arm, noticing the large wound is now just a scar.
“Must have” I murmur, snuggling down into my warm bedding. Dreamed it all, then. Especially when that flying one. (?)
I mutter, then. (you really like to use “, then” huh. It just doesn’t make sense)
T h u d T h u d T h u d.
I groan once more. More of a "go the hell away, be gone” (? I am having some trouble understanding the conversation) (same tbh) than anything else.
I just hear a foot kicking the door. I say something rude, shambling out of my nice warm bed into the goddamn cold of my room.
At least the frigid air now rushing over my naked form helps to wake me I guess…
I grope around, looking, then I remember that I don’t have any pants. Or, my best damn belt, either. I liked that belt. I liked those pants.
At least I had forgotten my phone, I think.Or, would have lost that too.
I blink, remembering the frigid air. The hand. The warmth from said hand. The attack. The hot breath on my face. The surge of agony in my left arm. My pants falling off.
Top of Form
"I’m coming, I’m coming!” I growl, stomping towards the door. You don’t have to break the damn thing down, you know?
"Go away!” I snap, annoyed.
I say nothing. Do nothing. Hoping she will just leave.
Fourth page:
I stand, my back cracking as I do with a surprisingly good feeling pop, and move to the door like a member of the living dead. It’s a month too late for that, but what do I care?
I just woke up. Give me some slack, won’t you?
"Coming, coming.” I snap, annoyed. You don’t have to brake the dam thing down, you know? (this is repeated) I like my door?
I just hear a soft snort before another impact rattles my door in its frame. Harder this time. Of course, I knew she would do that. I sigh inwardly.
I open the door, swinging it back.
Immediately, a loud voice blares into my room, sounding annoyed.
Top of Form
“Bro!” I hear the teenage voice bark.
“Sis!” I hear the teenage voice bark.
“Ah! Sibling!” I hear the teenage voice bark.