im starting several books, and i thought it was time to get some feedback on my writing. here's what i have so far for my most recent book:

Hidden in secrets and lies, like shadows on a moonless night, I am a ghost among ghosts. Few comprehend my existence, and those who do are dead. As the hunter does, so do I. Bringing death to the living on silent wings. If you are my target, no amount of distance can keep you safe. No shield on Earth can protect you from my arrow. Dubbed the Angel of Death, I am well named. For only those I kill have seen my face and heard my voice. Sadly, none have survived an encounter with me to tell what they have experienced. So now I write out my tale, as my final act in life. And it shall start with the one thing I have guarded for so long, the one secret I kept closer to me than my own skin. It is with my name that I begin my story.


My name…Is Autumn Degrah.


Chapter One: The Burning House…

Amazing premise. I can't wait to see more.

its really cool so far. can any of you guess what its about? *chuckles*

It holds some promise. By the writing you have done it gives me hope that you can deliver. Still, there is a lot that needs to be written so hurry up

hey, im already on chapter three. but i cant rush it. i have to wait for the inspiration to come, otherwise anything i write will be trash. i also cant go to fast or ill get ahead of myself and get caught up in the story to come. instead of writing what is happening ill only think about what i want to happen and loose interest in writing it at all. Thats because ill get so tangled up in what needs to happen later i cant figure out how to work up to it. so in essence: you'll get what i give when i give it and like it! heh heh heh...

*chews pen contentedly and reads comment, puts pen down* here here by God, a wise man speaks truth! Anyway, i have the next it of the story that im willing to reveal. Ahem....

OCTOBER 30th, 2151

The computer screen lit up brilliantly in the dark room. And I sat there for a minute, allowing my eyes to adjust to the changing light before placing my hands almost tenderly on the keyboard. There would be no going back after this. If I carry out this plan, it’s final. I tossed my head like a horse does when it seeks to displace the flies resting on its neck. My doubts are my flies, but they wont go away.
So I lowered my sight to the internet icon, and slowly clicked the mouse. At once, a screen popped up. It’s the home page of the person who’s house I’d broken into. Again I paused and viewed the website as if from another’s eyes. It felt strange to see something so normal considering what I’m about to do, I thought.
I hacked my way into the Government files, using one of the codes a friend of mine had given to me three nights prior to this. The screen flashed, and for a moment it was black, and I looked into that empty screen, thinking it insane what I was here to do. Then I caught my reflection in the darkened glass.

A long, razor sharp slice had scared over on my right cheek. Remnants of the years I spent training for this. And then, when I ignored the scar, I saw my face, my whole face, as I had not seen it in many years. I looked extraordinarily like my father. And that did it for me, my resolve hardened into an iron rod. So I diligently set to work.
The hours seemed to drag by, each one feeling like an eternity as the implications of my actions weighed on my every thought. Because for every click of the mouse and finger press on the keys, I drew nearer to an uncertain and possibly fatal future. I ignored the knots now forming in my stomach as I typed in different codes.
Then I placed the last code into the appropriate box, and when I pressed enter, a screen popped up. It was the search and edit Archives box, and I found what I was looking for. One more agonizingly long pause. I could still turn back, it wasn’t too late, indecision slashed at my resolves with vicious blows, but I thought of my parents again, and my resolve hardened into impenetrable, steel backed, concrete. So I typed in a name in the “search archives” box. And while the computer pulled up the appropriate file I took a moment to really examine my motives. Was it worth it, I asked myself.
Then the computer let out a muted DING and my attention snapped back to the computer screen once more. A woman’s digitized words came through the speakers in a cool but choppy voice, “ Files found matching the requested search by name: Three.” I quickly scanned the first two, as my heart beats danced faster and faster, and slowed almost at once; these are the wrong files. But then, with shaking fingers I pulled up the last one, and my breath caught in my throat. I had found what I was looking for.
It was a U.S. citizen’s file … And I looked at it for one last long pause, and I began to read:

its kinda long, but i want to get everyone caught up in chunks so that when i continiou to write we're all on the same page. hope i didnt post so much no one will read until the end!

i actualy have about 20 pages worth,maybe 23. that was only page one and two. ill post more later.

ok, i changed alot of little things in my story as it is, so my next post wont be until im done editing the begining. sorry. But here's a teaser segment of it:
He flicked his weapon up as she lay on the ground, helpless. It was just touching her throat, and it burned cold to the touch as he trailed it along her cheek to her temple.
“Your enemies will show no mercy,” he slashed down her check, scalp to jaw in one razor thin slice, “And neither will I. “ Howling in agony, she clutched at her face, crimson blood pouring from the wound.
“You son of a b****!” she gasped between clenched jaws, stamping her foot on the ground.
“Get used to it. Pain is your friend, Autumn. Do you know why?” he asked, bending down to look at her. She merely glared at him, her eyes watering from pain.
“Answer me.” He said softly.
“No, I don’t know why!” she screamed, still clutching at the side of her face, loss of blood turning her skin white as a lily.
“Pain is your friend, because it lets you know your not dead.” He tossed her a kit of medical supplies. “Fix yourself up. There’s a needle and thread in there, that cut will scar over.” He walked out of the room.

wow nice discriptive wrighting id almost think it was a wrighter who alredy published many books

thanks, that means alot. i get a lot of critisisms and after a while it gets discoiuraging, so your prais is very refreshing!

That's really good!!
I can't wait to read more!!!