I've been driving myself mad trying to figure out how to make this work - a short story (or perhaps one that will turn into a really long one), written by anyone willing to add a few lines here and there. In other words, a bit of creative fun for anyone with a bit of a writer in them =)
Here's how it's going to work: I'll write the first bit, and since I am a Regency romance writer, I will be starting out in that era - apologies to anyone hoping this would be contemporary or paranormal etc. If you want to add to the story, please do so in the comment section below. I will check in regularly to copy and paste your bit into the post, making sure to add your user name in parenthesis next to your contribution. Therefore, if you would like to add something, please check the latest comment first since this will be where the story has left off. Thank you so much to anyone willing to participate - I'm hoping that this will be a great deal of fun for us all!!!
NB: This is a collaboration in creativity - not something that will ever be published! You may make as many contributions as you like, though each one should be limited to one paragraph or eight lines of dialogue and with someone else posting in between. Also, I reserve the right to permanently delete any posts that I consider to be inappropriate for this blog. Thanks!
London, England, 1815
(Sophie Barnes) A loud crack split the air, scattering the birds that had still been resting peacefully in their nests. Nigel Bainley, Earl of Foxwood, blinked. To his astonishment he was still standing upright instead of lying lifeless on the rain drenched grass, which was what he'd expected. Squinting, he peered through the fog as it sifted between the trees, trying to locate his opponent - a youth whose life was rapidly turning into a more reckless one than his own. By God, he'd barely said two words in reference to the delightful attributes of the lad's sister when he'd been called out. Complete madness to his way of thinking, but then again, he didn't have any sister's, so perhaps that explained why he couldn't quite comprehend why anyone would find the words 'lusciously ripe' so offensive.
(Marla Gollady) He could not help it if the lad's sister was exactly as he described, a
"lusciously ripe" debutant. Brothers were a strange breed, one, he
again could not comprehend, being an only child.