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One of the finest aspects of fiction writing is the ability to set the scene. Characters act and react, but they don't do so in a vacuum. In their world, they meet, fall in love, solve problems, sometimes horrendous problems. Maybe it's a small town, maybe the big city, the green, humid jungle, dust-dry desert, a mountainous region. On the sea. Under the sea. In space!
Setting the scene is also done by using character dialogue to paint a picture of loveliness, danger, evil, trepidation, excitement, awe...
Setting the scene is also done by using character dialogue to paint a picture of loveliness, danger, evil, trepidation, excitement, awe...
Give us six sentences that set the scene. Set the Scene in Six Sentences - Sunday is a new opportunity on the Exquisite Quills! Blog to tout your talent. How have you set the scene in your books? How have you put the reader into the life of your characters?
Every Sunday, the blog will be open to six-sentence scene-setting. Just post your six sentences, your name, and one link in the comment box. We can't wait to read you!
Pass the word! Open to all!
Pass the word! Open to all!
16 comments:
This is from my Victorian novella set at Twelfth Night, Mischief at Mulberry Manor, which is FREE to download today from Amazon US and UK: http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00AQYP2BC
The moon hung low in the midnight blue sky and Maryanne saw that no clouds obscured their view of several star constellations.
Since the manor stood alone in the countryside, only the light from the windows illuminated the darkness.
Although they had all left the house together, Maryanne noticed the different little groups they naturally made. Charlotte and Henry had gone on ahead a little way with the Mathieson brother and sister, and although George seemed determined to include her in
his walk with Emily, Maryanne decided to help their friendship along to the next stage.
If George Carmichael still harboured any interest in her at all, Maryanne would soon disabuse him of that idea at once. As for herself, it was quite a different Carmichael
who now occupied her mind.
From my historical western novel A RANCHER'S WOMAN which should begin to appear at all fine e-book retailers this week. Follow the Colemans and other early settlers of Creed's Crossing in Wyoming with my new historical westerns. Enjoy.
The debate continued late into the night until Eagle Feathers unwillingly agreed to Many Feathers marking land and using it as his very own, but he had to pay for the land and not with the white man's money.
Many Feathers watched the elder as he stood and stepped to him. The man removed a knife from his belt. Many Feathers stood. He steadied his wits and body as he awaited the sharp blade of the man's punishment. Instead, Angry Feathers grabbed the feather-covered lock of hair that held so many years of pride and cut it off.
From my contemporary romance novel THEOCEAN BETWEEN.
Between the skyscrapers of New York City and the ancient sands of the Middle Eastern nation of Ahalamin lies an uncharted ocean, not of water, but of culture and prejudice.
When financial executive, Victoria Ballard, is tricked into marriage with a Prince of the Desert, her perfectly designed life unravels. To put the pieces back together and claim the heart of a Prince, she’ll have to find a way to bridge THE OCEAN BETWEEN .
......
Rashid fixed Jacob Ballard with a cold stare
while he decided on the man’s proposition. Then,
rising from his chair, he leaned across Jacob’s desk.
His 6’ 2” frame spanned its width and his splayed
fingers rested heavily on its polished surface.
Making no effort to mask his indignation, he let
words convey his displeasure.
“I do not buy women.” His voice vibrated with
ferocity.
Here’s a scene from Hurricane Crimes, my short romantic-suspense eBook, which shows the intensity of the storm:
“The sky above was a thick, whirling mass of gray clouds. It looked angry. Wet leaves and pine needles blanketed the road and water flooded the ditches, creating two rivers on either side of the black pavement. Pine trees were bending in every direction as the wind ordered, nearly snapping them in half.
She passed one of her neighbor’s houses. The mailbox had been ripped from the ground and was nowhere in sight.”
For more, get your eBook copy: http://amzn.com/B00GVK921G
I got my copy, Rosemary. :)
Canine Christmas by B.J. McCall
Joy is a Christmas baby. Werewolf, Jake, is giving Joy a surprise birthday gift she’ll never forget.
Joy sipped champagne as the luxury sedan climbed the mountain highway. The driver rarely spoke, leaving Joy to enjoy the champagne and canapés provided for the three-hour drive. Soft romantic music added a touch of elegance.
The sedan slowed before a house and Joy’s heart began racing. Wearing nothing beneath the fur coat had brought an excitement she had never experienced until tonight. The porch light was on and light was visible through the blinds.
Canine Christmas is available at Amazon
http://www.amzn/B006873NPI
Today my 6 comes from Loving Leonardo. http://www.amazon.com/dp/B009LS3H6Q Here an obsessed zealot waits to make a clandestine purchase -- a previously unknown book of poems and sketches by Leonardo da Vinci. The night has its mysteries and dangers.
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Carlo Posateri shrugged his cloak back on his shoulders, the thin wool gone heavy from absorbing the September fog. He peered into the night then checked his pocket watch under the misty gaslight. Few people would be out in an evening fog like this and there was a word to describe many who were — Ladro. It was a perfect night to make deals with a thief.
The acquisition ritual played in his mind. To start: a warm bath and a brandy, followed by an excursion into the most brilliant and salacious mind ever produced by the Renaissance.
...............................................
Read the first chapters for free in my sampler. https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/333971
Subscribe to my blog. You never know what you'll find there. http://calliopeswritingtablet.com/
Opening from my alter ego's book Boom! by Roxanne Rogerson.
“I have mixed feelings about using a flogger on a woman I've never met,” Michael explained. “But I guess Flogging 101 is the next lesson!”
Frank, his mentor at Scallywags, the fetish club he’d joined in Vancouver, nodded his understanding as he adjusted Michael’s mask.
Had the guy really understood? “I don’t like the idea of inflicting pain, especially on a female. It’s not in my nature.”
In his mind, the male of the species should be the protector.
http://amzn.com/B00FL8L636
This is take from A Spicy Seduction by Janet Lane Walters, released yesterday by New Concepts Publishing. The final boo in the seduction Series.
The baker stood beside a marble-topped counter. She wore a long apron tied at her slender waist. Temptation to see if his hands could span her waist nearly made him forget his reason for being here. A white net covered hair as dark as his. Would her face match the delectable rear view? She held a plastic bag and swirled icing on a cupcake.
This is from my short shapeshifter erotic romance, SANTA BABY, SEVERAL STARS AWAY. Kaily is decorating herself for Dylan's arrival.
Chapter Two:
Not Where Stockings Are Hung
Kaily hung the bow between her breasts, for now. Thinking her freshly washed hair could use more of a 'take me to the bedroom' look, she shook her head vigorously, then swiped her fingers through the long strands several times.
''Tousled enough, she murmured. Of course, who knew whether Dylan got off on tousled or not. He hadn't dated any of the single women in town, all four of them.
The gossip would have burned her ears off by now—like a damn flamethrower—if he'd put the moves on any of the married women.
~savannakougar.com~ available at Smashwords, Amazon, All Romance Ebooks
From 'Amore and Pinot Grigio' -- http://www.amazon.com/Amore-Pinot-Grigio-BookStrand-Publishing-ebook/dp/B00GG1C71C/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1384277207&sr=8-1&keywords=amore+and+pinot+grigio
They stopped along the way to the Villa Borghese and picked up some bread. “Who’s the bread for?” said Sigrid. “The birds. It is to feed the birds, of course,” replied Sandro. Once there, she was treated to something she may not have found on her own in Rome: a park where Italian families rented bicycles and Segways and bought gelato for their children, a park full of ponds and birds and busts of famous Italians. What a history. She stared for a good long time at a bust of Michelangelo.
From my coming soon Ellora's Cave novel, Lost and Found.
In the inky blackness of the small club, a lone spotlight beamed down on her, at this moment in time, Phoebe Barnes was the center of the universe, all eyes on her. She heard only her accompaniment, Hank One at the piano, Hank Two on sax. The minor notes of both instruments filled the room, overshadowing the clinking of bottles and glasses and the low-toned conversations. Blocking other sights and sounds, she sang of the sadness of trying to save love only to lose it in the end. Phoebe, her petite body sheathed in a floor length, black tank dress with ruffles running diagonally across the bodice, warbled into the microphone. The campy thick streak of her bright fuchsia bangs belied the melancholy bluesy tones of It Doesn't Matter Any More by Eva Cassidy.
This is from my erotic fantasy, DIAMINA
"Where is she?" The voice rang through the temple, splintering glass and shattering marble. Novices and veterans alike trembled, hiding from the terrible wrath, the mighty fury of the Snake God.
"Find her!" the voice rang out, shaking the temple. "Find her and bring her to me, along with that traitor Bebo so that I may flay him and hang his skin on the altar of my displeasure."
From the four corners of the temple, slithered four snakes. They transformed into men and bowed to the Snake God. "We go to the four corners of the world," they hissed. "We shall seek the one you lost. We shall bring her to you, and your gratitude will fill us with joy."
Happy Sunday!!
Great selection - and thank you, Chrys!
Selene's Reverie - from Self's Blossom by David Russell
As the sky turned a deep purple, seared by the moon's beaming clarity, Selene's room expanded. The walls pulled back, the ceiling rose, and the floor lowered to make a gigantic suite, richly carpeted and curtained in the deep, late twilight; lots of tables and cupboards, but plenty of room to manoeuvre. With a flourish of the deep green curtains, her young, slim, tanned lover tiptoed in through the balcony window, wearing khaki shorts and white singlet. These Selene unbuckled, and pulled down, stripping him down to black bathing trunks so that he, in style, could help her off with her rustling, glistening, shimmering ball gown. With gentle, knowing hands, he undid her back zip, and then turned to face her. He unclasped the waist to part the airy dress until gravity drew it down to caress the carpet as a parabola, a floral parachute.
This is from my YA, If I Knew Then
Icy cold fingers tightened around Angel’s wrist, jerking her hand back towards her arm. She gasped, and her eyes widened, as her wrist cracked against the pressure. Her knees grew weak and she fell forward, grabbing the crush velvet theater seat in front of her. Her fingernail's bit into the fabric as her mother’s eyes blazed down at her. A high pitch screech filtered in from the hall, and Angel’s heart pounded in her chest.
“That would be your sister unlocking the back door.”
Her Mother’s voice was hard, but not an unfamiliar tone to Angel. Her fingers opened and Angel’s hand dropped like a rock, and she grabbed it, clutching it to her chest. Her wrist throbbed and her fingers were numb, but she knew it wouldn't last. It never did. Her mother always knew when to stop.
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