Erotica Harem

I know I am not following the outline to review very well....you may deep six the ideas that I am throwing at you below...that's all they are are ideas that popped into my mind....just notes I jotted down along the way as I was reading....Here we have Tiir the timid, chaste servant girl/woman, going to the potter's house to make pots with the potter Euth. There may or may not be a romantic relationship developing. The heat level is low in this chapter but the tension is ecalating.... I see repeats that you may or may not want to check out. Check out unnecessary tags....usually we know who is talking without them. Personalities needs to emerge somehow....Also... Ellora's Cave's editors likes a straight forward, very very simple plot line... One heroine and one hero they like most of the time, throughout and no jumping around to different characters other than the MC's in other chapters along this plot line. You may check the publisher you are targeting on this 'cause everyone's different.... drag this to the recycle bin if it does not help. Thank ya!




Chapter 4 Claymaker



Tiir sat on the riverbank waiting. She stacked the broken pieces of the prior day’s water jug, one on top of the other like a jagged tower. The willow woods across the river swayed in the breeze, a smattering of greens against the browns and grays of the morning twilight. The shadows receded and the sun moved higher. Tiir let out a sigh and stood up to go, pushing her blonde hair from her shoulders. She glanced over the opposite bank a final time. Disappointed, she slung the water jug onto her back. The walk along the stone-lined path went slow. She kept turning back, hoping to see Nainie following. [oh yeah...great...she keeps the home fires burning]

As she passed through the stone wall, { How can she pass through a stone wall?} Tiir gave up on him. She trudged up the steps to Oden’s house, let herself in through the small side door and filled his wash basin with fresh river water. She set his drying sheets beside it and a bar of green soap. Tiir looked over the items to confirm each sat exactly where he preferred, then padded out. Too many sentences starting off with "she"

Iltha sipped at her hookla, slurping loud to announce her presence. Tiir knew the matron wanted to reprimand her for breaking yesterday’s jug. She bowed before the large woman and stood straight to receive her punishment. she bowed and she stood straight? Iltha wore red this morning; a thick wrap edged with heavy embroidery, a garment Tiir envied. Her clothing confirmed the matron’s high rank among her people.

“I thought of what to do with you,” Iltha began as she set placed? Plunked down? her mug on the table. “You don’t understand the value of the jug you broke or the reason you should walk slow and be cautious where you step.” Iltha pointed at Tiir, her pig-like, green eyes narrowing. “So you will go down to the claymaker and learn to fashion water jugs. If you understand the toil that goes into what you destroy, you will appreciate the things we give you to do your work.”

Tiir nodded and held her silence, afraid to speak.

“Get going, Girl,” Iltha snapped. “The sight of you annoys me.”

Just a note here...FYI --- E.C.'s submission pdf states: strong heroine = high sales, weak heroine = low sales.

Tiir went past the window and thought she saw Oden leering out at her from the shadows of his room. She hurried her pace, Iltha’s mutterings following at her back.

The sun’s rays felt too hot that morning. Tiir walked fast use a stronger verb than walked... toddered, strode, paced, through the main street of StoneCircle wishing she could slip off her wrap and bathe in the river. Sweat trickled down her back, leaving cold lines against her skin. Her sandals thunked out a rhythm of haste. Blonde hair trailed behind her and she knew the line of boys passing her on the street stared at it. They elbowed one another and laughed, jeering. Tiir tried to ignore them. The claymaker’s house sat sat? or occupied the end of the street? at the end of the street and she sprinted the rest of the way toward it.

Tiir dipped inside the square entry and looked peered? gazed? stronger verb here? over her shoulder to be sure the boys hadn’t followed. They moved in a swarm on their way and she breathed a sigh of relief. The claymaker’s house smelled like wet earth. Tiir turned around to regard the space. The main entry showcased his wares. Pots lined the walls, sat atop shelves in neat rows and hung from the ceiling by lengths of braided rope. Tiir walked carefully, a stronger verb here perhaps? for the floor held more and she had no desire to break another clay thing "thing" is vague... pot, cup or jug? and prolong her punishment. punishment..is vague...opt for the real to paint a better picture for the reader... beating, whipping, slap in the face?

A short hall led her to the rear workroom and there, the claymaker leaned over a half-made bowl, his pale fingers shiny with water and red-orange earth. He worked diligently, his coal-colored eyes darting across the coil he worked into the bowl’s existing wall. what does the new area that you are taking us to look, smell and sound like?

“Mistress Iltha sent me,” she muttered, hoping her low voice would not disturb him enough to destroy his work.

The claymaker looked up, his eyes stark beneath his black brows. Most of his long, ebony hair remained contained by a length of rope, but a few thick strands fell over his fair forehead. Tiir felt a sudden urge to hurry forward and tuck them behind his ear.

His eyes roved over her and his mouth remained set. The claymaker’s brows furrowed an instant before he nodded and went back to his work.

Tiir shifted her weight as she watched him press the long coil of clay into place and add another. He swiped his hand in a bowl of water at his side and squeezed a lump of earth-colored clay from his barrel, rolled it across a flat stone and began again, his fingers working over the sides until it melded. “What does Iltha want me to do with you?” he asked, his voice even softer than Tiir’s.

She took a step closer and frowned. “She wants me to build a jug… to replace the one I broke.” The claymaker wore a wrap over his lower section, the color of the fabric a dyed, pale green that had gone mostly rusty with exposure to his craft. Tiir focused her gaze there.


Okay...she's going to redo the pot she's broken...

He moaned and continued working.

Tiir sighed okay he moaned and she sighed...didn't she sigh up a few lines? and studied him closer, trying to guess his nature. If this encounter was meant as punishment, she doubted this quiet man would be the one to deal it out in a cruel way. ‘Maybe there is another claymaker,’ she wondered . She took a few more steps across the clay-stained, stone floor and sat down near him. ‘One that wants to beat sense into house servants for their clumsiness.’ in this chapter we are doing a lot of stepping, and muttering ... you may want to use your search and find function to see how many times it is used.

The claymaker finished the coil and moved to grasp another. As he slapped the coil onto the wall of the bowl, Tiir realized the piece was almost complete. He turned to look at her, his gaze just as unsettling as before, and smiled. The claymaker’s teeth were small and turned in, but clean and white. we know that she likes him just by this sentence?

Tiir shivered and wished more than ever that she had waited longer for Nainie. ‘Maybe he’ll take me from here,’ she hoped. ‘I’d rather live in the wilds than this stone cage.’ She forced a smile back at the man and nodded at his work. “Can I help you?” she asked. unnecessary tag
"smiles " and "shivers" you may want to check with your search and find button to see how much of it is going on.....?

“After this,” he said. unnecessary tag. His gaze trailed over her body again How did his eyes travel what did his gaze reveal to Tiir? and she hugged her shoulders, wishing he would look away.

She waited while he finished the bowl. The claymaker stood up and stretched his body, arching his lean back until it cracked. His well-muscled legs bore smears of clay and his bare feet showed the same color. For a fleeting instant, Tiir remembered the color of Nainie’s skin, the powdery dye rubbed all over him. The clay’s color appeared the same.

“Come on,” the claymaker said, wiping his hands across his cloth wrap. “We’ll start at the beginning. He padded out through the rear, squared entry and Tiir got up rose to her feet? to follow. She blinked at the bright sunlight of midday.

“It begins with the raw clay, harvested by the riverbank where the water stands stiller.” He stood beside a stone gaesim and pushed aside the hewn wooden lid. Inside the container, Tiir saw murky, mold-smelling muck and water. The claymaker reached inside and drew up a fistful of mud for her to examine. “You should change, first,” he said. “No use dirtying such fine, white cloth. Not many virgin servants left in Oden’s house. He must be saving you for someone.” oh yeah?

FYI using many or even several unnecessary 'he saids' and 'she saids' is looked down upon...listed as a major no no at Mojocastle press. also

Tiir bowed her head to hide the color rising in her cheeks. She hated the white of her wrap and longed to wear something less prominent that didn’t announce her station. station? opt for real as opposed to vague here.... She chewed at on her lower lip until he spoke again.

“I’ll show you where to dress. You can wear one of my spare wraps.” The claymaker passed by Tiir and she could smell the light scent of his sweat beneath the bolder odor of mud. She turned to follow him into the rear of his stone house. No tallow candles lit the hall though the yellowed tapers lined the ledge. Tiir shuddered when she entered his room. when we enter a new room what does it look like? the room size, smell, lightness, darkness...set up of room etc. in the POV opinion

The claymaker’s mat sat unrolled across his floor, the blankets a tangle of verdant fabric. His washbasin sat empty by the square opening of window that faced a garden outside. Tiir knew by the unkempt state of his room that he kept no servants to attend his basic needs. “W-would you like me to clean for you?” she asked, her gaze returning returned to his face.

He went to the basin, filled it with water and scrubbed his hands clean. He dried them on a rumpled sheet of thick, woven cloth and narrowed his eyes on her. The claymaker licked his thin lips and smiled wide. “In the adui, behind you.” He pointed and she turned. His cloth wraps hung on hooks in a long, rectangular crevice built into the wall. “And you can clean, if you have time this evening.”

Tiir reached for the closest wrap and held it up, trying to decide the best way to wear the fabric. The hairs on the back of her neck rose and her skin prickled. ‘He is just behind me,’ she realized. The claymaker’s warm breath tickled her shoulder.

“My name is Euth,” he breathed against her ear. “Do want me to help you with that?”

She shivered, hoping he would not touch her and soil the white wrap she wore.

erotic feelings/emotions?

‘If I return in a soiled garment again, Iltha might make me go around naked.’ “No, I can do it,” she said, forcing her voice to remain steady.

Tiir looked back at him. His eyes seemed to be two black coals in his narrow, milky face. The fallen strands of his hair irritated her, but she feared what he might do if she righted them. She sidestepped him and tugged at her own wrap. It fell onto his mat with a whisper. Keeping her back to him, she circled the coarse, green fabric around her shape and tucked the end between her breasts.

“How long does Iltha want you to stay?” Euth asked. unnecessary tag.

“I’m certain she’ll want me back before the sun sets.” Tiir turned slowly, afraid he might creep closer to her. do you think this is necessary?

He did can you show us what he did when you said "he did." ? and raised his right hand. His fingers hung in midair between them. “I’ve seen others like you,” he murmured. “Where did Oden thieve you from?”

“I-I was j-just a child when I came to his household. I don’t remember the name of my village.” Tiir flinched when his hand came closer. He combed his fingers through her hair and furrowed his brow. She closed her eyes, afraid of him.

In the above para. you have a repeat "came closer' and two paras up I see creep closer. Check out how many times "stone" is used...

Holding still, she felt Euth step behind or approach? near? her, his lower body pressing against her buttocks as he gathered up her golden tresses. If his lower body pressed into her, doesn't he have to use his arms to assist the act of pressing? *shrug* I dunno. Maybe I'm wrong as usual? “Let me braid it and pin it for you. Would be a shame to get clay stuck in something so beautiful,” he murmured. His fingers worked quick, adv needed to relay quick. --> quickly? pulling her hair into a thick braid. I'm glad he washed his hands.

She felt him step away Everyone in an erotica mindset still holding their breaths thinking about his lower mid section, Euth pressing his c***k against her buttocks......so ...... something like.... Realizing the effects she hand on him, Tiir felt his weight lighten; he backed away and crossed to the ..... that kind of thing... His lower body and return in only three short breaths. Tiir trembled when he pressed against her. The claymaker swirled the braid atop the crown of her head and pinned it in place. “You look lovelier than Oden’s matron,” he whispered against her ear. “Don’t let him see you like this.” He moved away and she felt a rush of cold air where he’d been.

“Come on, there’s much work to do if you’re to replace Iltha’s jug. At least seven day’s time to pass from start to finish, longer if you want it so.”

Tiir opened her eyes and found herself alone in Euth’s chamber. She turned and went after him as he moved through the dark hall, is this the same hallway a while back...if so, we do not need to be told again it is dark. her hair heavy atop her head. “W-what do you mean, longer?” His shadow slunk into the bright daylight. Tiir walked faster. always use strong verbs..walk is a weak verb

Outisde, Outside? Euth slid back the hewn wooden cover and reached into the gaeism. He glanced up at her with his stark, black eyes. did we see his eye color before? Just wondering... “I mean the longer you want to stay, the longer it will take to make a proper jug. I assume she thinks you are a clumsy servant , so be sure to prove her right and break your first two tries. Unless, of course, you want to go back there sooner.” ha ha

Tiir shook her head although she wasn’t sure if she wanted to linger near the claymaker for seven days seven days was mentioned above...would it be better in this instance to not repeat seven days and say a week? *shrug*? or more. His eyes reminded her too much of Oden’s and she feared being alone with him, she feared being alone with Oden or Euth? though he said nothing to reveal any ill intent.

“Come here and let me show you how,” Euth mumbled.

Tiir came use a stronger verb here than "came." ? to his side and he grabbed her hand, turning it palm up to examine. “Mmm,” he said and covered it with his own palm. His fingers guided hers deep, past the water and the thin mud to the globs of thick clay beneath. “There,” he said, his smile spreading. “Gather up as much as you can and we’ll begin.” Okay..good hook out... reminds me of a scene in the movie Ghost. LOL ...........How does she feel about him guiding hers deep into the globs of thick clay? Inquiring minds wants to know...


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