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yeah i read it ... i didnt get what u mean by somethings are missing ... like have u left bits from between or are u talking about the last chapters that u have written ?
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My incomplete novel
- Thread starter Rutzaba
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I have only written 11 chaps... the rest is perfectly formed in my mind... but due to technicalities ..i cnt proceeed
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I can help
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Armand Vincent
Adrien Christophe
Ludovic de Nicolas
Adrien Christophe
Ludovic de Nicolas
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- Messages
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:/ hero hy k football player?
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okay em out of names:/ hero hy k football player?
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Im gonna post some questions i need answering here ok?
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Into international politics?I can help
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Nhi yar :/ this is the frst tym google has failed me
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Any names? @etudiante
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Ok guys... chap one.... the best of strategy ..... is to have no strategy
Instincts were the only thing he ever believed in, and the very thing due to which he had up till now dodged defeat. He could hear distant voices, the on goings of the street below his one room apartment. He must have been the only person on earth to wish that he would be a little less good looking than he was. After all one always notice a good looking guy seated two rows behind you in a tram. Maybe if he was a little less charming, perhaps he would attract lesser attention? Six foot two, broad shoulders, curly hair and an indulgent smile with the dimple in place. He stood in front of the mirror studying the details of his face. His shave was three days old and his eyes gave a drunken look to his face. At the age of 37, Valentino Santoni was a successful state agent (at least this was what the papers said) living in the village of Cargése. He was according to the record divorced and chose his home village to live in for the sake of mental peace. But mental peace was the last thing on the agenda of Vito Santoni. He had already named his each breath, each of his heart beats, each of the seconds of his entire life to one and only one purpose. And it was this purpose, which would engage him today at the place he was required at. He changed quickly into working clothes after taking a shower, made his way down the stairs two at a time and reached for his car. The (…..name of the place to be thought of prob a church…….) was 15 minutes away from his home if he used the car. The route although short was breath taking. Although having lived in Corsica all his life Valentino never got used to of the picturesque beauty of ‘The Isle Of Beauty ‘. In fact the more he concentrated on the stunning scenery of his homeland the more he was reminded of, and stimulated to achieve his purpose. One paragraph missing
Valentino entered the building and headed straight to the altar. Waiting for him was the slim figure of Father Diego. As it was a Monday there were only two other people present in that church except for him and the priest. He bowed his head down and closed his eyes pretending to be praying. After a few minutes Vito felt someone’s hand on his shoulder, he understood this to be the signal. And sure enough when he opened his eyes the church was empty. He headed straight to the cult of the saint, which was very prominent. Father returned beside him after bolting shut the doors to the church. Together he and the priest pushed the cult aside, underneath which was a hidden door which leaded to the basement. With every step Vito took down the stairs it became more and more evident that the game is about to begin, and he would lose no matter which side won. But his belief for what he was doing was right kept him descending the stairs and his ‘instincts’ hinted he might even get away with it, although the odds against it were very high. He could not believe it was here in front of him, the kind of day you had waited all your life for, but at the same time you wish would never occur. He opened the door at the end of the staircase. And what he saw behind that door was enough to make him forget how to breathe.
Instincts were the only thing he ever believed in, and the very thing due to which he had up till now dodged defeat. He could hear distant voices, the on goings of the street below his one room apartment. He must have been the only person on earth to wish that he would be a little less good looking than he was. After all one always notice a good looking guy seated two rows behind you in a tram. Maybe if he was a little less charming, perhaps he would attract lesser attention? Six foot two, broad shoulders, curly hair and an indulgent smile with the dimple in place. He stood in front of the mirror studying the details of his face. His shave was three days old and his eyes gave a drunken look to his face. At the age of 37, Valentino Santoni was a successful state agent (at least this was what the papers said) living in the village of Cargése. He was according to the record divorced and chose his home village to live in for the sake of mental peace. But mental peace was the last thing on the agenda of Vito Santoni. He had already named his each breath, each of his heart beats, each of the seconds of his entire life to one and only one purpose. And it was this purpose, which would engage him today at the place he was required at. He changed quickly into working clothes after taking a shower, made his way down the stairs two at a time and reached for his car. The (…..name of the place to be thought of prob a church…….) was 15 minutes away from his home if he used the car. The route although short was breath taking. Although having lived in Corsica all his life Valentino never got used to of the picturesque beauty of ‘The Isle Of Beauty ‘. In fact the more he concentrated on the stunning scenery of his homeland the more he was reminded of, and stimulated to achieve his purpose. One paragraph missing
Valentino entered the building and headed straight to the altar. Waiting for him was the slim figure of Father Diego. As it was a Monday there were only two other people present in that church except for him and the priest. He bowed his head down and closed his eyes pretending to be praying. After a few minutes Vito felt someone’s hand on his shoulder, he understood this to be the signal. And sure enough when he opened his eyes the church was empty. He headed straight to the cult of the saint, which was very prominent. Father returned beside him after bolting shut the doors to the church. Together he and the priest pushed the cult aside, underneath which was a hidden door which leaded to the basement. With every step Vito took down the stairs it became more and more evident that the game is about to begin, and he would lose no matter which side won. But his belief for what he was doing was right kept him descending the stairs and his ‘instincts’ hinted he might even get away with it, although the odds against it were very high. He could not believe it was here in front of him, the kind of day you had waited all your life for, but at the same time you wish would never occur. He opened the door at the end of the staircase. And what he saw behind that door was enough to make him forget how to breathe.
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Ok guys... chap one.... the best of strategy ..... is to have no strategy
The (…..name of the place to be thought of prob a church…
'Grail' perhaps?
L>Jesus Christ's cup: according to medieval legend, the cup said to have been used by Jesus Christ at the Last Supper, and by Joseph of Arimathea to collect his blood and sweat at the Crucifixion.
It was sought by medieval knights.
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Hero name?
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Ok.
1- the name of hero?
2- do places need to be exact?
3- can a war take place today?
4- can the un and america live wdout interfering a matter as big as a.war?
5. Nato influence on italy and france?
6. Shall i keep it simple and depict it as a simple war btw 2 countries?
7- How to set about a revolution?
Shud it be planned acc to exact places on map? Or fiction? Cux planning wud b too difficult n inventing them lay manish
1- the name of hero?
2- do places need to be exact?
3- can a war take place today?
4- can the un and america live wdout interfering a matter as big as a.war?
5. Nato influence on italy and france?
6. Shall i keep it simple and depict it as a simple war btw 2 countries?
7- How to set about a revolution?
Shud it be planned acc to exact places on map? Or fiction? Cux planning wud b too difficult n inventing them lay manish