Erotica Harem

Title of Book: Falling In Love With The Enemy

Chapter #: Chapter 3

Author: Kat


My comments are meant in the spirit of helping us all become better as artists; never meant to discourage or demean anyone. Use what you like and toss the rest!) !!

Plot: Alastair spends the days of August melting in the heat and tending to the farm; a flashback explains how Alastair was caught with a farmhand by his wife, Alice, who then leaves him via train, returning home to her parents. The day has finally come and Alastair joins the merchant in town on the platform awaiting the arrival of the train. Alastair’s hopes immediately fades when he spots the face of the new teacher he’s been awaiting to arrive.

Style & Voice I mostly concentrated on editing suggestions and an occasional suggestion of style – but, please, only accept what you feel will not delete from your own style of writing voice.

Referencing A couple terms fit more modern, which I pointed out. I’ll admit, I’m not great with historical fiction – so, if some of my suggestions don’t fit what you know, ignore me!

Scene/Setting: There are parts where you were telling versus showing the action, so I tried to offer suggestions. I have this problem too, because I think it’s a natural instinct to “tell” the story; showing via actions through the characters is much more difficult to achieve.

Characters: Alastair, the farm owner and his wife, Alice. I thought you captured the wife perfectly by her actions, so I have a sense of who she is, though a minor character I suspect. Alastair comes across as lonely and sad, yearning for something more.


Grammar: A few comma suggestions and sentence structure ideas.

Just My Personal Opinion: Kat – I’m enjoying the story and hope my suggestions are not a deterrent at all; I try to be brutally honest in my opinion (and it’s only my opinion) to help us as writers grow…and I hope you’ll do the same for me.



Chapter Three

September-1883

Avoy, Georgia

Alistair Sampson

The remaining days of August melted away into September. The fall harvest was nearing (passive: try “neared it’s end) its end and out of nowhere (try: before he realized it,) the day arrived when Alistair had to make that long journey into town to meet the new school teacher.

To be truthful (try: Truth be told) , he had been counting down the hours . If his assumptions were correct, he wouldn’t be lonely for much longer. Unmarried, male, twenty-five-year-old, teacher. Alistair smiled with happiness (suggestion: “smiling” would indicate happiness – so, “with happiness” can be deleted) every time he thought about the ad in the newspaper.

Climbing up into the wagon, his mind turned back to (recalled his former lover, Harvey, who had run off when they were caught down by the stream some months ago. The nineteen-year-old Indian boy was just a farmhand that he had hired when the kid wandered into town months ago . Infatuated by the boy’s young man’s black hair and golden skin, Alistair took him home, where he received a job and a place to live (among other things) alongside the other workers.

The following day, he led the kid out into the fields, far from the other workers, telling them he wanted to teach the boy something. Well, that happened to be the truth and judging by the coy looks the boy shot him, Alistair knew he had made the correct decision. After taking the boy’s virginity underneath a tree, Harvey confessed that he had left his family when they discovered his attraction to men. His (The boy’s) mother and father didn't say anything, but he had packed his belongings and left late that night as a precaution . Alistair remembered their conversation quite well.

“Where were you headed when I picked you up?” Stretching out onto the ground, he pulled their clothes around them as a blanket.

“Back home,” the boy bit into a piece of bread from their lunch. “I made a grave mistake. I left a year ago and wandered into Atlanta. After months of solitude working as a servant in various hotels, I decided to return{c}, they’ll either accept me, or kill me. (Kat-separate this into a sentence of it’s own)”

Alistair was amazed at the boy's vocabulary as he reached over to run his hands over the boy’s skin. If I could come back on this earth, I would love to look like him.

“You could stay with me. My wife is from a well-off family and she never ventures out into the fields to help, in fact, (comma) the only reason why she courted me was because my father struck gold in California, making us wealthy. As you know, her father only wanted his precious daughter to marry someone who had money.”

Harvey threw back his head and laughed. {c} (Kat-this next sentence is an example of “telling” vs “showing)” Alistair instantly became turned on as he watched the sunlight shine over the kid’s body. (suggestion: The sunlight burnishing over the kid’s body stirred Alistair’s desire – or something similar…) “The women in my tribe are not like that, then again we rarely use money and when we have it, we divide it equally.”

“So, it would be like if every resident of Avoy, I’m guessing all fifty of us, pooled our money together and shared it.”

“Exactly, we share everything in our tribe.”

Alistair chuckled under his breath, period) he didn’t see that happening anytime soon. Pulling their clothes back on, the men (they) headed back to the ranch and From that day forward, they (they men) were inseparable.

{c} (Kat-this seems like a natural break between scenes since the previous sentence suggests future events and the next sentence pulls us back to Alistair’s actions. I’d suggest putting a natural break with *** or extra space to separate.)

His (Alistair’s) first task was to get the boy to stay in the spare bedroom of their home. When Alice questioned {c} her husband (this takes the prose out of Alistair’s pov – try “him” instead), he told{c} her that Harvey wasn’t getting along with the other men because he was the youngest. Hell, even he had a hard time believing that lie.

Standing back, he watched his wife fuss over the boy, “You poor thing” and rush off to prepare an extra supper. Harvey raised an eyebrow to Alistair as if to say (ask) , “Is your wife really that gullible?”

Everything really was running smoothly, the two of them couldn’t believe their luck. Of course, all wonderful things must end and theirs came to a halt the day Alice took to bed with monthly cramps.

“I’m sick and will be in the house all week, please leave me to rest.”

Alistair watched his wife curl over, an extra blanket tucked around her. “If you wish, dear. Come find me if you need me, I’ll be down by the stream.” He knew Alice wouldn’t leave that bed except if necessary. Shooting a glance towards Harvey, who stood silently by the fireplace preparing a broth, he (who? Alistair or Harvey) crept out of the house to the stone path by the stream. A few minutes later, he looked back to see the boy following him.

They spent the morning swimming and then lounging naked on the creek bank. Kissing the boy all over, Alistair honestly believed himself to truly be in love. Harvey responded and before he could blink, they were {c} having sex (sounds cold, and modern – since you’re writing over a 100 years ago – perhaps something like, “they were lost in sins of the flesh or their bodies were entwined in lust, etc).

(pull this to the next line) A piercing, anguish cry had them scrambling to their feet. Thinking it had to be one of the farmhands discovering them (their tryst), Alistair spun around, his clothes in his arms, pressed against his body, his mind already concocting how much money to pay the man to keep his silence, but instead he found Alice standing at the edge of the trees, one hand pressed tightly against her mouth, tears flowing down her face. {c} (long sentence – consider breaking)

Alistair turned to Harvey; a trail of footprints embedded in the dirt {c} told him (“indicated” – footprints don’t speak (hehe) the boy had fled into the woods. He knew the kid wouldn’t be returning.

Facing his wife, he could only whisper her name, “Alice.” The words fell on deaf ears, (no comma needed as he struggled to slip back in his clothes. At the sound of her name, (comma) she spun away, (no comma needed) and raced up the trail with her hair streaming behind her. He chased the blonde ponytail (one word) flying in the breeze in front of him. {c} (Kat – chasing a “blond ponytail sounds disembodied. May consider revising)

Returning to their bedroom, he watched her drag a trunk from the corner of the room and begin to pack. Sobs filled the air, as she {x] continued to babbled. “I only desired a hot bath. I couldn’t find any workers to fill the tub with water from the well, so I came to search for you. Now, I know, it all makes sense. I spent hours wondering if it was me. Perhaps, I wasn’t a good wife? I tried, Alistair, [c} I really did (Kat-I think Alice’s words sounds more powerful without “I really did” . Lord knows I tried.”

Words failed him. He could only stared at her as she commanded he take her into town the next day after a good night's rest.

“Buy me a ticket to Virginia,” she demanded. “I’m going back to my parents. I’ll write them a letter before I leave telling them to meet me when I arrive.”

“As you wish."

Alistair knew that by taking her to town, he would be tricking the people. If one of the field hands were to drive her to the train station instead, there would be talk around the farm of Alistair's wife without her husband. After what had just occurred, he believed them to be better off. Alice had the misfortune of witnessing his secret life, and he refused to stop her plans of going back to Virginia. They both knew their marriage had just ended. She proved it by dragging her trunk into the guest room. The click of the key in the lock echoed in his brain.

For weeks afterward, (comma) he abandoned the thought of Harvey ever returning. He just prayed the boy had made it home safely. Alistair suddenly found himself sinking deep into a depression, spending his time harvesting the crops, (no comma) while reminiscing over his former lover. He wondered what life had in store for him, and then he answered the newspaper ad.

The day had finally arrived and the sun hung at past noon when he steered his horse up to the train station. Butterflies swarm (filled) his stomach. A faint whistle could be heard in the distance. Mr. Mayberry lazily wandered out of his store and came to join him.

“Ah, delivery day,” he announced to no one particular. “Tomorrow my store will be filled with people wanting to buy whatever I pull off the train today.”

Alistair shivered despite the heat. Calm down, everything will turn out alright (all right). You deserve this. {c} It seemed like the train was inching closer. Steam and smoke filled the air. (suggestion: “The train inched closer as steam and smoke filled the air above the treetops” Beside him, Mr. Mayberry was digging (passive: “dug the toes…”) the toes of his boots through the dirt, making patterns. If he (the man) knew, if they (the town folk) only knew. What was so wrong about a man falling in love with another man? Sure, the Bible said it’s a sin, but it (the scripture) also mentions close relationships between other men.

Shaking his head, his (Alistair’s) stomach grew to resemble lead as the train pulled to the platform, (and) minutes later the conductor stepped out. Removing his blue hat, the man pushed (brushed) his sweaty hair off his forehead and called out, “Delivery.” Mr. Mayberry walked over and started to help unload (offload?) his freight.

Gazing into the distance, Alistair felt a warm breeze waft down from the mountains and embrace him. A few men gathered by the saloon. Just another dull, boring, day in Avoy, Georgia. Hopefully, the schoolteacher will cheer me up.

Turning around he saw a short, slender man step down from the train, one large valise pressed up against his chest, the other clenched in his hand. Alistair couldn’t see his face, but it didn’t matter, he liked him already. The stranger’s curly, black hair fluttered around his face. His clothes were tailor made, the man obviously had money. They must pay teachers more up in the north than down here. Well, time to make an introduction.

Stepping forward, he took the man’s bags, “You must be,” but the words caught in his throat. It couldn’t be? Oh, God no, not him, anyone but him. (suggest end with “!”)



Jon Michaelsen
http://www.jonmichaelsen.net
http://www.facebook.com/jonmichaelsen
michaelsen@gmail.com


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