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Why do people think blacks are ugly?
I'm using my wife's account by the way. My wife who is african european/french isn't ugly at all. I love they way she and her family looks with gorgeous velvety dark skin, naturally plump lips (Not fake like some white girls I know), the cute wide noses, and the kinky thick hair. What is wrong with that? None of my friends have a problem with it at ALL. I remember being 13 and jacking off to the pictures in ebony magazine! I am absolutely obsessed with them.
They are jealous


Aint nothin hotter than an ebony sistah
Will you help me edit this? I am 13 and love to write, so i need a little tense help? Its supposed to be past.?
PREFACE~

Hysteria stepped atop a hill, the soft wind lightly brushed her lengthy blonde hair. She gazed softly about the quaint village before her, a content look heavy in her sparkling sapphire eyes. She held a beautifully constructed white walking stick confidently in her left hand; her tall, proud stature stating an obvious aura of importance. Next to her was a fiery red-head, Envy, her thin eyebrows curved downward in a strong beauty. In her left hand, a gorgeous black stick held gracefully; with a heavy emerald grasped naturally by the claws of the aged Ebony wood, contradicting the blonde’s diamond-encrusted red amber held by ancient Holly.
The two stood above the hamlet, resembling goddesses in their beauty and glory. Below, the humble town bustled with the play full activity. Guyren pranced joyfully across the dusty pathways, aware of the scolding they would receive in only hours when they returned home with mud-caked dresses and trousers. Outside, in the vast expanse of corn fields, men and women worked endlessly to collect the sweet corn just in season to pick.
Envy and Hysteria honestly didn’t fit with the small-town community, having their stout wives (opposite the two’s towering, long-legged build) and mousy blonde, stringy hair, flung carelessly upon their wide shoulders (unlike the girls thick, straight, lustrous hair) and while the majority of the maidens aspired to be the new bakers wife and gain healthy weight, Envy and Hysteria dreamed of becoming powerful mage’s, the most powerful in all of Narcissi.
This would their last view of their home town before the completion of their goal, the two would return as the most accomplished women in the whole world.
They backed away simultaneously, mounting two creatures behind them that slightly resembled over-sized ostriches, but with bigger heads, beaks and faded and gold feather. Hysteria flawlessly swung her leg over the female Hánnak called Meritt, and giggled as Envy recklessly used her magic to aid her in her mount on Lace.
It was then that they began their journey, weighty backpacks bounced in a rhythmic pace, Hysteria’s white cape flowed gallantly behind her, Envy’s black one flailed about. Both were confident in their travels.

CHAPTER 1~ DOUSING DESIRE~

The sound of claws raking against the harsh ground could be heard throughout the neighbourhood, pedestrians stared in dismay, pausing in their daily errands to gaze in disbelief at the foreigners, they all recognized the creatures that nonchalantly strolled down the busy gravel roads. They were creatures of myth to the people of Lessious, one of the five floating countries of Narcissi (the other two were mere ocean crawlers).
The mythical beings that intruded the streets chirruped as their passengers began to raise their voices.
“No! He said to turn left at the end of the marketing street!” yelled Hysteria, artificially oblivious to the attention they were receiving.
“He said right!” snapped Envy, closing her eyes in annoyance. Lace ruffled her golden feathers, her wings were sore from flying to a floating country.
in the last paragraph in the first sentence of the preface it looks like you forgot the word "be". but other than that i personally think its really good, you may want to wait for another answer for some one else to be sure, its always good to have more than one persons opinion...you sure don't write like you're thirteen
Excerpt form my book- character flashback- I'd like some feedback, please?
Starter info: Amaya has long, white hair, blue eyes, is a prince, and in this flashback, is seven.
-----------
Bent over the molded walls of a stone basin, the rolling reflection of Amaya’s small, cherubic face shimmered atop the pristine fountain waters, spotted by the floating lotuses and pacing fish. Pushing back his long sleeves, Amaya dipped both his tiny hands into the cool water, chasing the fish away and petting the smooth basin floor. Falling from behind his ears, a lock of fine, angelic hair touched the water’s soft laps, catching upon a canary lotus.
Spying two, little girls of similar age dressed in lavish robes and holding dainty parasols peering into the tranquil waters a few paces away, a playful grin broke Amaya’s pink cheeks into dimples as he squirmed with liveliness. Scooping his hands just along the glittering surface, he sent a spray of fountain water flying over the two girls and their parasols, splashing their silken dresses and dour faces. Dropping their parasols, the two girls gaped at their sodden robes and dripping noses, immediately wiping their faces and turning red with shock. Huddling together, they gave Amaya dirty looks, the older stamping a foot at the seven-year-old prince.
“See what you did? Now our maids will have to bathe and dress us again! Why would you throw water on us?” The ebony-haired girl shrieked, her blue eyes infuriated. Shaking her head, the other, white-haired girl crossed her arms in resent. Frowning, Amaya shrugged, wiping his wet arms on his robes without care.
“I just wanted to play.” Amaya admitted guiltily, fussing uncomfortably with his silver crown. “I do not have anyone to play with at my palace.” He sniffed, feeling shunned. Unsatisfied, the girls back further away from him, shielding themselves with their quaint parasols.
“If you wanted to play, you could have said something. We would have gotten the chessboard; now we’re dripping wet.” The white-haired girl huffed. “Why are you here? I thought you and Lady Ta’al only visited when father wanted to see you.” She questioned warily.
“Father always wants to see me; I am the crown prince.” Amaya orated, repeating the title he often heard others call him.
“Father never wants to see anyone.” The older girl sneered. “He has other things to do; that’s why we have handmaids, idiot.” Amaya scowled with hurt, unsure yet believing in the girl’s words. Searching their flowery surroundings, Amaya scanned the vast, tiled courtyards for his mother, distressed when he could not find her. “Go sit over there, we don’t want to play with you. It’s bad enough that our handmaids are making us be by you until Lady Ta’al is done talking with father.” The girl scathed, pointing to a stone bench beneath a bower.
“I hear she’s in trouble; father always talks about how all she does is whine about Lord Dai being mean to her.” The other joined in.
“Prince Amaya!” A thunderous, ear-splitting roar rang out from above; birds scattered nearby, and the two girls paled at the looming face. Turning around, Amaya raised his chin to the walkway atop one of the imposing stone walls that sectioned the spread of courtyards into many, private alcoves, gazing at the formidable, frigid presence that tapped thick fingers along the bridge banister. Back turned to the sun, the omnipresent emperor surveyed his majestic courtyards like a hawk, alone upon the bridge. The lantern-jawed face was set in a scowl, bemused with the young prince, unhappy. “Stop that splashing; only heathen guyren play in dirty water.” The dark voice grumbled, golden crown gleaming in the summer sun. “Follow your sisters, then you may behave like proper royalty.” The grave tone instructed.
“Where is mother?” Amaya piped, growing anxious without her comforting touch.
“Occupied.” The Emperor muttered humorlessly. Panicky, Amaya began to bite his lip, in need of his mother.
“I want mother.” Amaya blurted, his heart racing. The stony father ignored him.
“Princess Chinyere, Devika, take Prince Amaya elsewhere; teach him how good guyren play.” He demanded, gripping the banister. Moaning, the two girls pleaded otherwise. “What heresy is this? Obey your Emperor; forget those damp dresses and entertain the crown prince. You are his playthings when he visits, now do your duty.” The raven-haired man demanded.
“Yes, father.” Chinyere and Devika bowed their heads and curtsied, quiet as their father, the Emperor sashayed along the bridge, glowering at the two girls with grimness, as dominant off his throne as he was on. Growling beneath his breath, the Emperor shook his head with frustration, muttering aloud before slipping away, into a coppice of dense trees.
“Monstrous behavior,” the Emperor seethed, “what a disgraceful guy.”
Glancing at Amaya, the two girls sighed and bowed to him, sulking as they began to lead Amaya away from the fountain and back through the courtyards, back to the imperial palace. Although disappeared, the emperor’s icy presence lingered in
my dear, you have a jaw-dropping talent.

This reminds me a ton of my series I'm working on. I'm actually in awe and I've never been that stoked over anyone's writing before.

If you don't continue writing this, I will have to go into a deep depression.
=(

Please continue
AWESOME job. I wouldn't change a thing.
=D

I can clearly tell the Emperor is self centered in his own greatness. He feels he is righteous. The young prince is almost an average boy at heart, still playful and attached to his mother. Everything fits perfectly.
=)
Does this seem interesting?
Ok, it's pretty ominous but it's the beginning to Serpentism.

Prologue:
{The beginning of the rest of your life}

Snap! Flash. A moment saved in time. Safely kept in a thick ebony wood frame dangling off of the wall. The glass keeping it safe from the cackling fire as the burning flames reflected off of the lead crystal.

A woman was the first in the picture. Tall and slender with curly brown hair and the most lively bright green eyes.

Next to her stood a man, taller and built. His hair was parted to the side and blonde with electrifying blue eyes. His arm hung loosely around his wife.

Two guyren.

An older boy with the facial structure of the father. His hair was messy and in his eyes which were a very dull green. He had a light green knitted hat that even more so flattened out his hair. His arms were crossed as a scowl adorned his face. His age’s approximate guess would be 15?

The younger girl. She looked like a mix of both parents. Her honey blond hair was in high pig tails and her eyes were less lively than her fathers blue ones. She was smiling widely with both her hands behind her back. She was around 6?

Quite suddenly, the parents began to.. Fade away. The smiles melted off of the picture with a thick red color rolling off of the frame. It was sucked into the frame and all that stood was the guyren. Almost like the parents were never there. The thick crimson color began to completely soak through the frame and trickle on the hardwood floor below.

Whispers and whimpers. It seemed all to quiet. Deathly quiet.

And that’s when the bodies were found. Limp on the ground. Shredded to bits. Blood everywhere.

What happened? A question never to be answered. Who knows what did happen? The voices.. The laughs.. The whispers.. Will linger forever in their ears.

“Mom? Dad?”

The storys about Vampires and creatures I've created, Serpentires. Which are sort of like vampires but.. snakes obviously. They turn green when they're tired, they sort of control elements, they eat once a week and they're infirior to Vampires... So, people with the patience to read it.. how was it?
it is a good start. i really like where it was heading (the story.)
here are some tips
One this that really through me off was how you were saying. She was about 6? and his ages approximate guess would be 15?
that really just made me think as a little guy were to write this. (though you may be young, im not trying to bash you on that. lol)((though you may not be young)) what if you added the age into the para. like ex.
A 6 year old girl stood next to her parents showing bits and pieces of their features. (continue her para.)
Get it? and do the same for the boy.

when your describing things. try to use the 5 sense's in your writing to draw the reader in. but you must you the sense's in a rich way. All good storys have great use of sense's.
I hope this helps a little.
Good Luck
Ecstasy!Mid summer night dream..?
Alone on a beach ,white sand ,blue water ,plenty to drink and eat ,hawaiin music in the distance ,two beach towels with
sun shades ,coleman full of ice,submerged two bottles of absolute vodka and pink champagne. In the waters a nice tall
ebony girl soaked in suntan oil ,shinning in the sun, her tuant muscles,hers six pack abbs, her detailed muscular biceps , broad shoulders,ripe melons and thick but lovely lips
with blemish free smooth skin, shinnning like a newly waxed car in the sun , wanting you to be with her and invading her ,caressing her ,finding lines between muscles with your fingers..true/false
false...the girl needs to be a guy
I fail this Every time What am i doing Wrong?? English Help Please.?
I can not Get this i have to redo it 3 times already what am i doing wrong?


(1) As a young person, I wanted to make a difference in the world. (2) When the opportunity arose to visit a different country, I did not hesitate. (3) I was seventeen and hoped I had something to offer others. (4) We would assist a teacher who specialized in putting together guyren’s daycare centers. I didn’t know I would return home with more than a tan and some cheap souvenirs. In short, I came home a different person.

Two other girls worked with me to raise money for the trip. It was humid as we stepped off the airplane. Awed by the new environment, I couldn’t take in enough as we drove to our hostess’s home. The vegetation was thick and very different from home. Shortly, we were at Suzie’s two story duplex with a little garden in the back.

The first week in Puerto Rico we watched and learned to run a guyren’s daycare center. I remember thinking it would be fun to be a guy and watch the puppet shows, the silly skits, and almost magic-like object lessons. Suzie had a gift. The guyren were so excited!

I could not speak Spanish, so I felt lost, questioning whether I really had anything to offer. I sat and tried to figure out how Suzie was going to use the three of us eager, but inexperienced Americans. It didn’t take long to find out.

On the second night, I sat among the guyren. I found a seat next to a little girl with bright yellow ribbons in her ebony hair. She shyly offered a smile; her big brown eyes made me feel welcomed. As the songs began, she slipped her hand in mine. From then on, Merona and I were inseparable.

Merona was an orphan who spent most of her days helping us. She spoke more English than we spoke Spanish, so she was our tutor. Her giggle was contagious, and her willingness to help an inspiration.

On the last night, the daycare center staff threw a party for us. They chipped in to buy us a store-bought cake, which was a luxury. Merona stayed close, but said little. She was sad about me leaving, and I was unsure of what to say. At the end of the party, Merona pulled me aside and pressed a tarnished heart-shaped pendant into my palm. She said, “This was my mother’s. I want you to keep it. Remember me.”

Without letting me refuse, she pulled my face close and kissed each cheek, wishing me well. Merona turned and disappeared into the darkness. I never saw her again.
1. Which numbered sentence in the first paragraph serves as an interesting hook?
A. Sentence 1
B. Sentence 2
C. Sentence 3
D. Sentence 4
2. Which part of the background information could be more precise?
A. The author’s age
B. The author’s feelings towards going
C. Where exactly she is going
D. Who she will be working with
3. In paragraph two, what of the following needs improvement?
A. Sensory detail
B. The event
C. Thoughts
D. Pacing
4. Which sentence would provide figurative language to paragraph three?
A. Suzie was amazing!
B. The guyren were happy to be there.
C. The stories sparkled and shone like precious gems.
D. Suzie told the stories in such a fun way.
5. What element of an autobiographical narrative could be added to paragraph four?
A. Figurative language
B. Sensory detail
C. Organized events
D. Interior monologue
6. What is missing at the end of this autobiographical narrative?
A. Factual details in order
B. Sensory details
C. Significance of the experience
D. Background information
1. Sentence 4, maybe? Makes the reader want to know more about the daycare centers these people will put together.
2. The author's age. The other information is already stated.
3. Pacing
4. C. is figurative (metaphorical)
5. A I think. Maybe could use something like she felt as lost a guy walking through the jungle because she didn't know Spanish. Thats a tough one though.
6. C. What does the pendant mean to the little girl? And what will it now mean to the woman of this story?
How do these characters sound?
I was talking to my cousin yesterday and we, somehow, started a topic about That Moulding Cheese Over There to books and I was like, "Hey - I'm writing a book myself!" and she was quite interested actually and asked me about the characters. She liked them as well. I was wondering, would you, as the hopefully future readers of this book (if you are interested in the fantasy genre that is...), like these characters as well?

Moroth is a 56 year old man with thick white hair to his waist. He is made out as if he is a great and fierce fighter who is the supreme-master of the element earth, giving him the title Earth Guardian, yet Moroth is nothing but an alcoholic, a pervert and a bad gambler. Moroth has an eventful history and is the father of the Air Guardian, Maiyah who sees them as nothing more than a useless man who sacrifices lives as quickly and as freely as he chugs down a glass of beer. However arrogant and egotistical Moroth might appear, he wants to do good and help people ... only if it means helping himself along the way.

Noxiena "Nox" Exragot is the youngest daughter, and girl, of the Exragot Clan which is a family of lycans. She can change into a beautiful ebony-and-silver wolf and can run 145km an hour, whilst in wolf-form. But still in human form she is an accomplished fighter with wooden swords, which she says can break bone as easily as a metal sword can slice skin. When she meets a boy called Rozan they become good friends as they share similiar interests and get along good but when Rozan flirts with other girls as they grow up, Nox finds that she wants to make herself look more beautiful, which is out of the ordinary for her as she normally doesn't give one about her looks. She gets upset when pretty girls tease her over her tomboy-ish looks. Nox is a brave, strong fighter with a mature, self-reliant mind.

I absolutely adore these two characters, as I find their storylines real and very human. Who here is not arrogant sometimes? Who here gets paranoid over their looks? Who loves that boy/girl so much yet they just can't get him/her? And who here would do anything to get what they wanted?
Give or take a few details these characters remind of Robert Jordan characters. But If you write it well, I don't think people will notice.

Happy Writing ;)
What do you think of this so far?
“There's much to be said about the beauty of darkness, The moon and stars call darkness their home.”
~Kaige~

With the anger inside, I needed somewhere to go to cool down. Somewhere peaceful. Somewhere I could take my mind off of things. My eyes scrutinized the forest around me. The trees were covered in a thick layer of snow and the pond beneath my fingers were frigid. I slipped into a sudden reverie. Flashbacks of the beautiful girl filled my mind blistering. What am I doing here, I thought as I pulled my hand from the water. Someone’s thoughts filled my mind making me even more vexed. It’s not you fault, Amaranths thoughts penetrated my mind. I turned around to see her swaying back in forth in one of the trees. What are you doing here? I thought as she jumped down and walked over toward me. Hunting, she answered. She wrapped her lithe arms around me and I took in her Lilac scent. She wasn’t aware that it had been along time since the last time I hunted. She hurried and pulled away from me when she heard what I was thinking. This can stop, she thought and leaned against the big Acacia tree. I leered at her as if she was my enemy and said, “ You really think that,” I took in the lifeless air around me and kept talking. “ You really believe that she will come back, that she will be here right in my arms now!” I shouted. I’m sorry, she mused and darted back to big mansion. I followed, out running her in such momentum. I was right. She wasn’t going to come back, she was gone. Gone forever.
I bolted into the house and walked down the long corridor which led to Cyan’s study. He knew that I was coming, because when I opened the door he was standing at the window facing me. His long black hair dangled over his broad shoulders and his face read nothing but choleric. I walked over toward him swiftly and paid my obeisance to him. His cold hand touched the back and my neck and I felt a sudden ache in my body that I was familiar with.
“ How long has it been?” His voice was mellifluous and smooth. I knew the answer exactly. Weeks, months, maybe years, I thought and the pain began to grow stronger.
“ I don’t know,” I lied. I could tell he knew the veracity of the matter. He pushed me against the wall making me lose my equilibrium. I was too infirm to fight back because of the lack of blood.
“ Maybe I should just kill you myself, if that’s what you want. Since you won’t feed anymore, because of that human girl!” He began vociferating loudly.
“ Yeah, maybe you can do that! You can take this curse that I have away from me and I won’t suffer any damn longer!”
“ Curse is what you call it. A damn curse, this is your life. You have to live with this for the rest of your life, or should I even mention life. Life is for humans, Kaige. Do you want to rot in a sarcophagus or do you want to sleep in one and wake up and smell the delightful blood of the world. Its your choice. You want to choose to hunt or to perish inside?” He said and helped me up. I knew that I needed to hunt and I knew that if I did I would feel much better.
“ How do I forget about this all? How do I forget about her?” I asked and leaned against the wall. He smiled and his voice began to fill the room.
“ For 300 hundred years I felt what you felt, I felt that pain inside.” He said and walked over to a painting of a beautiful young girl. She had brown, ebony curls and her cheeks glowed with a tint of cherry pink. Her eyes were cerulean and azure. She’s so beautiful, I thought and smiled.
“ Her name is Isabel, my mortal love. I was a new born when I met her. Her blood was so saccharine and all I thought was that she was so beautiful, I didn’t realize that such beauty could exist until I saw her.” His smile sadden.
“ I killed her, I couldn’t bare the smell of her blood. I had that guilt you feel now.” he said and walked over toward me.
“ I should have listened to you, I should have remain hidden to the mortals, but its too late.” I said in a low voice.
“ Your a murderer, don’t always listen to what I say, sometimes I may be wrong. Now you must leave, I have work to do.” He said and sat behind the large wooden desk. I bowed down to him and walked out into the dark halls filled with my family of vampires.
Totally Rad...
but put a little "sexual seduction" in it.
wait how old are u?
lol...
I need an idea for my story?
Here's what i have so far,


“There's much to be said about the beauty of darkness, The moon and stars call darkness their home.”
~Kaige~

With the anger inside, I needed somewhere to go to cool down. Somewhere peaceful. Somewhere I could take my mind off of things. My eyes scrutinized the forest around me. The trees were covered in a thick layer of snow and the pond beneath my fingers were frigid. I slipped into a sudden reverie. Flashbacks of the beautiful girl filled my mind blistering. What am I doing here, I thought as I pulled my hand from the water. Someone’s thoughts filled my mind making me even more vexed. It’s not you fault, Amaranths thoughts penetrated my mind. I turned around to see her swaying back in forth in one of the trees. What are you doing here? I thought as she jumped down and walked over toward me. Hunting, she answered. She wrapped her lithe arms around me and I took in her Lilac scent. She wasn’t aware that it had been along time since the last time I hunted. She hurried and pulled away from me when she heard what I was thinking. This can stop, she thought and leaned against the big Acacia tree. I leered at her as if she was my enemy and said, “ You really think that,” I took in the lifeless air around me and kept talking. “ You really believe that she will come back, that she will be here right in my arms now!” I shouted. I’m sorry, she mused and darted back to big mansion. I followed, out running her in such momentum. I was right. She wasn’t going to come back, she was gone. Gone forever.
I bolted into the house and walked down the long corridor which led to Cyan’s study. He knew that I was coming, because when I opened the door he was standing at the window facing me. His long black hair dangled over his broad shoulders and his face read nothing but choleric. I walked over toward him swiftly and paid my obeisance to him. His cold hand touched the back and my neck and I felt a sudden ache in my body that I was familiar with.
“ How long has it been?” His voice was mellifluous and smooth. I knew the answer exactly. Weeks, months, maybe years, I thought and the pain began to grow stronger.
“ I don’t know,” I lied. I could tell he knew the veracity of the matter. He pushed me against the wall making me lose my equilibrium. I was too infirm to fight back because of the lack of blood.
“ Maybe I should just kill you myself, if that’s what you want. Since you won’t feed anymore, because of that human girl!” He began vociferating loudly.
“ Yeah, maybe you can do that! You can take this curse that I have away from me and I won’t suffer any damn longer!”
“ Curse is what you call it. A damn curse, this is your life. You have to live with this for the rest of your life, or should I even mention life. Life is for humans, Kaige. Do you want to rot in a sarcophagus or do you want to sleep in one and wake up and smell the delightful blood of the world. Its your choice. You want to choose to hunt or to perish inside?” He said and helped me up. I knew that I needed to hunt and I knew that if I did I would feel much better.
“ How do I forget about this all? How do I forget about her?” I asked and leaned against the wall. He smiled and his voice began to fill the room.
“ For 300 hundred years I felt what you felt, I felt that pain inside.” He said and walked over to a painting of a beautiful young girl. She had brown, ebony curls and her cheeks glowed with a tint of cherry pink. Her eyes were cerulean and azure. She’s so beautiful, I thought and smiled.
“ Her name is Isabel, my mortal love. I was a new born when I met her. Her blood was so saccharine and all I thought was that she was so beautiful, I didn’t realize that such beauty could exist until I saw her.” His smile sadden.
“ I killed her, I couldn’t bare the smell of her blood. I had that guilt you feel now.” he said and walked over toward me.
“ I should have listened to you, I should have remain hidden to the mortals, but its too late.” I said in a low voice.
“ Your a murderer, don’t always listen to what I say, sometimes I may be wrong. Now you must leave, I have work to do.” He said and sat down behind the large wooden desk. I bowed down to him and walked out into the dark halls filled with my family of vampires.
“ Do you want a drink?” Amaranth said and handed me a wineglass filled with blood. I smiled and took the glass. I drunk it down thirstily and a flow of sensation went through my body.
“ Kaige, is now back.” She smiled and handed me another. She was now wearing a satin gown with a close-fitted bodice. She was beautiful, but not quite my type.
“ Want some more,” she asked and grabbed my hand. I followed her up the broad staircase and to her boudoir. She sat down on the ebony bed and laid back against the red canopy and I walked over toward her in temptation. I pulled her body toward mine and traced my lips up her neck. Her skin burned like winter fire under mine, my teeth p
Your writing is fair to midland. The story line has been done a million times before (Twilight, anyone?) and I think we're all a little tired of it. You need to edit, edit, edit. You have a lot of spelling errors, grammatical errors, punctuation problems, and horrible sentence structure. If you want people to read your story for what it's worth, make sure you do them the courtesy of editing it a thousand times before you post it. Good luck.
Rate My Story Please!?
Rosalie Dawson smiled stiffly and accepted another glass of champagne from the waiter, wandering stealthily towards a large flower display, looking around quickly before pouring it into the over-watered soil.
“Psst!  Rosalie!” 
Rosalie drifted behind the flower display, making it seem as if she was surveying the crowd of couples for a partner. She had been asked plenty of times, but turned them down, never being one for dancing.
Mollie Dawson, Rosalie’s younger sister, was crouched behind the massive display of sickeningly sweet smelling flowers, beckoning for Rosalie.  Her ebony curls, in an elaborate hairstyle on top of her head, were slightly disheveled but still as alluring as always.  She reached up, and let her hair fall around her shoulders.
Rosalie sighed, thinking about all the hard work that had gone into that hair.   But Mollie’s curls were defiant, and any effort was normally a waste.
“Come on!  Let’s go!  If someone asks me if I would ‘honor them with a waltz,’ one more time, I will give them a much more colorful answer!”  Mollie was impatient, and blew a strand of a hair away from her face.
“Mollie, don’t speak like such a waif, and stand up you’ll ruin that lovely dress that Mama bought you!”  She glanced admiringly at Mollie’s dress, which was a stunning light blue, the exact same color as her eyes. It was tight corseted and showed off her slim figure. Rosalie looked down at her dress, a old thing, white with embroidery running up the corset, which attached subtly to a gauzy skirt. It contrasted greatly with her wavy auburn hair and vivid green eyes.
Rosalie never understood why Mama wasted her money on dresses for Mollie when she would have preferred to wear Papa's trousers and sailor’s middy,  (which she found Mollie doing when Mama wasn’t present).  
“Oh bother you, Rosy, please!  Oh, I shall do anything for you just let us leave.” 
 Rosalie saw a strange pleading in her sister’s delicate face that was rare to see,
“Oh, all right!” was all Rosalie said as she sauntered off. Mollie was so happy she nearly clicked her heels, but abruptly remembered that Rosalie said that it was “unladylike and a thing only a rude guttersnipe would do.”  Normally Mollie would have disregarded Rosalie’s ideals without a second thought, but since she had let them leave she thought it best to just “leave it alone”.
 
 
 
            Now you have met two of our heroines, Rosalie and Mollie Dawson. Daughters of Beatrice Dawson and General Dawson.
Rosalie was the older of the two (aged sixteen summers).  She sported a crop of brilliant curly auburn hair, but the attention she normally got was because of her sparkly green eyes. “Two symmetrical emeralds” as referred too by Mollie when she was in one of her poetic moods. She was tall and slightly plump, but it worked for her and made her even more enticing.
Born three winters after Rosalie there was Mollie. A thin girl, her hair was long, thick and curly and as black as midnight. She like her sister had a thin nose, but hers bore a constellation of pale freckles.
They were two fine socialites in training, in fact, everything fine young women should be on the outside, but on the inside they rebelled against the constant poking and prodding, although Rosalie tried her best to behave. 
“Think of what mother would say.”  Rosalie worried, fidgeting with the generous amount of lace on her dress.  “She’d have a fit if she knew we skipped the largest gala in  all of London!”
“Oh, BAH,”  Mollie exclaimed.  “Stop worrying and help me with this lock! ”
Mollie was leaning over a door handle, belonging to a grimy door labeled Food Preparation.  She had a hairpin lodged in the lock, and she twisted it furiously, trying to find a place where the lock would disengage.  After a few more tension filled minutes, the lock gave into Mollie’s effort, and she slipped through.
“Well, are you coming?’ Mollie asked as her head reappeared her blue eyes flashing dangerously.
“Oh…well…I guess I should follow, for this gala is awfully boring, and I would be very worried if you went alone, you being only fourteen.  Oh, alright!”  Rosalie gave in easily, normally the only thing she had to battle with was her mind.
“Let’s go!”  Mollie sang, happy to have won.
“But it’s so late! And I don’t think men out on the streets at this hour will have our best interests in mind.” Rosalie started to twitter she was so nervous.
“You know what Miss Rosalie Beatrix Dawson?  I am leaving this confounded gala. With or without you, it doesn’t matter to me” she huffed impatiently and sauntered out into the placid night.
Rosalie waited there for a few minutes again, battling with her mind then abruptly ran out the door.
Once she was about ten good paces out of the door Rosalie felt two  hands roughly grab her shoulders and heard a forceful raspy voice whisper, “I knew you’d be here soon… I was expecting you.”
Her first thoughts were, "Oh, I knew this would happen, why
It's okay.
The dialogue is a little rough, and sometimes it doesn't flow great and it's a bit choppy.
I suggest finishing the novel and then going back and rereading, then start on a new draft, and just repeat the process until you think it's flawless. (If you want this to get published) I'm guessing by your writing that you're young (talented- but young), and if that's the case, then you have a long time to make this perfect. Years to rewrite, edit, and make it work.
Best of luck to you, and keep writing!

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