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Hey friends~!


I'm an author, and I am working on my newest work of fiction called "Rite of Passage". I started it last year, and am now super excited to be finishing it this year. (I would have finished it last year, but I had a wedding to plan for.) 


Here is an excerpt from my novel, I hope you'll read it, because I need feedback~!



The walls seemed to be closing in on him as he ran. His breath was catching in his chest, and as he slammed into the wall, pain shot up his side. He knew he had to get away. He was terrified to see what would be waiting for him if they caught him. He saw the leader, a tall figure with black hair. He stared him down with piercing scarlet eyes.

“You cannot escape from our grasp,” his voice echoed down the alley, causing his feet to stop in their tracks; fear rushing through his veins. Suddenly, out of the darkness, clawed hands seized his arms, tearing through skin like it was nothing. He whimpered in pain, tears budding in his eyes as he gnashed his teeth. “Leave me alone!” he begged as the other two slammed him down onto the filthy ground. The hooded figure approached him, lifting his chin with one hand. “Oh, just you wait. We have a plan just for you.” With a sudden swipe of his claws, the poor man slipped into the dark void of unconsciousness.

When he mustered the strength to open his eyes, he found himself bound with chains to the floor. He winced as he attempted feebly to stand, but was instantly shoved back down by an unseen force. He groaned, and looked up to see a group of three; including the man he saw at the beginning.
“What do you want from me?!” The young man yelped as the dark priest used a jagged, sharp blade to slice his forearm, allowing the blood to fill one small bowl, which was then placed carefully in the circle along with a bowl of water and a bowl of white powder, which the man assumed to be salt. The cloaked priest stood beside a large sword, and when the time came, lifted it. He struggled to carry it; and did so awkwardly. However, he managed to place it atop one of his victim’s shoulders. The others began to chant, softly at first, but then grew to a hoarse yell.
“To the Mother that grants us all serenity; in reverence to the blood that flows through our veins. We sacrifice to you a humble servant, a mortal in the clutches of the Dark Ones. May his blood sustain you, and allow us to pursue your Will.” With a savage yell, the hooded priest rammed the tip of the sword into his gullet. The man could no longer contain the intensity of the torment; and he screamed. His desperate cries echoed throughout the room, until they were silenced as the priest carved farther in to the young man’s gut, dark red blood spilling out into the circle and across the floor. The young man’s eyes streamed tears of agony as the last thing that he saw was his own intestines slopping messily onto the floor. His head slumped, and once he was unchained, he collapsed into a heap on the floor; his limbs awkwardly positioned on top of each other.

The priest watched his victim’s execution as the servants beside him clawed hungrily at the man’s torn and ragged skin. “Patience, my kin.” He spoke, his voice smooth as velvet. With a flourish, he turned to face his fellow brethren. “We will soon feast in the way that the Dark Mother has intended for us.” He kneeled down by the corpse of their ritual, and slowly traced out a strange shape in the blood with his finger. With a sinister grin, he licked his finger. He knew that soon, the world would know the blessings of the Dark Mother, and he was aware that only those who served her well would be rewarded when she returned to this realm. And he was ready.


I've been writing since high school (started with fan fiction that I would write during any class I could, then had my friends read the chapters during lunch and after school). I thought about going back to that and doing more. <3

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