Chapter 1.

Revised Chapter 1

Chapter 1
       A cabin, upon a hill, was set ablaze by a few men, who had been put on a path of destruction. They were the people who had lit the house on fire. "There is nothing for you here," they said, in a gruff tone before forcing the young girl onto the horse and soon turned away from the blazing fire and took her away. It was obvious that money has caused this greedy behavior and Emily was disgusted as she was shoved away from the house.
Emily had this deathly glare, which was quickly smacked from her face by the man. It was an abrupt slap that caused Emily to turn her head. The man, who had laid a hand upon her had grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him, muttering something along the lines of a threat, which caused Emily to close her eyes as tears slipped down her cheeks. She was scared. She knew that she could not fight these men. They could kill her, and no one would ever know. She was at the mercy of these men. They ran on greed and anger, since they worked for the city’s landlord, who had loaned out his land to immigrants like Emily’s family and if the immigrants couldn’t pay, then they were killed. There was no if, ands, or buts. 
Emily replayed the whole events, as she rubbed her cheek with a small frown. Anger began to boil within her body. She had never been this angry before. 
Emily was intent on getting revenge now.
                                                                                              ~~~~~~
Five years had past. Five years that she thought would be good, but they weren't. She worked in a brothel with several other women, cleaning up after nasty, old men, who tried to flirt with her. She wasn’t the worker, who slept with the men. Emily was a cook, not a whore.
Emily stood behind bar, it was an unusually slow day and the door opened, sounding the small chime and Emily looked up. A nice looking man soon confronted her. He was young looking, maybe about twenty-three years old, Irish, and stunning. 
The man spoke to Emily, " hello, Miss. I need a room for the next week." Even his voice made Emily melt further into the floor. He was just amazing.
Emily nodded her head and pulled out the guest book and handed the man something to write with, "sign here and I will get you, your key." Their eyes met and Emily swore she could feel shivers run down her spine as his bright green eyes met her pale, grey ones. She gulped and turned away to grab the key, off the wall, and handed it to him. "Have a nice stay. The bar is open from 6, in the morning, to 11, in the evening," Emily offered and the man nodded to her and walked off. Emily stole a glance, at the book, where the money, for the room had been laid, grabbing the money and sighed heavily. His name was Parker. Parker McClare. What an attractive name to go along with that handsome face. 
"Looks like someone caught glimpses of her future husband," Maria, the Head Mistress came around the corner, grabbing the money with a grin. Maria was like all the girls' mother. She had taken a liking to Emily and how quiet and low key she was. Emily pulled her weight and did not slack, one bit. 
Emily held a small blush and nodded a bit. She would admit, Emily did seem to have taken a liking to that man, with just first glimpses. "Mother, he was beautiful though," Emily looked at Maria and Maria just nodded and chuckled. 
"I bet he was," Maria knew she was going to see him again, but she also hoped that Emily was not going to put too much on this guy. He was staying in a place with a lot of women here, to please him in ways that Emily had no idea about. Maria just gave a soft kiss to the girl's forehead and sighed. "Go ahead and go to sleep. You've worked enough," Maria shooed Emily away.
Emily nodded as untied the apron, holding it in her small hands. "Thank you. See you tomorrow," Emily bowed slightly and hung her apron aside before heading up the stairs and went into her bedroom, which was actually right next to Parker's.

20% Project

So, I switched my 20% project based on my ability to pull something off.
I do NOT have the writing ability, nor the time to complete something as complicated as my original idea, so I have come up with something that I have done before and now, I would like to come it.

This is a story based around a young girl's life, in the 1800s, who has her family ripped away from her, at a young age.
She was sold off, by the landlords, to a brothel and she had been having to fend for herself, with the help of some very important people.

Character(s);

Emily Mclain; Main character, protagonist. She is around 23 years old, and works at a brothel, as a cook. She is a meek and quiet individual, who seeks out the people, who killed her family.

Mistress Maria; basically Emily's mother. The woman that Emily is sold to and basically takes Emily under her wing and cares for her. Maria is a very gruff and blunt individual and does anything to protect her girls.

Parker McCarthy; Emily's love interest. He is Irish, just like Emily, and finds himself wanting to help Emily after finding out her story. Since he comes from money, he believes that he has the power to find out who crumbled Emily's world, when she was younger.

Bruno Cardigan; Viewed as a very important man. Friends with Parker and a frequent at Mistress Maria's Brothel.

Rosemary; Emily's best friend and protector. Rosemary feels as if she is Emily's older sister and when she meets Parker, she gets protective and possessive over Emily. Bruno's most cherished girl, as well.



I believe that I will have a lot more fun with this and it will give me better practice for other, more advanced plot lines.

Portfolio

.Portfolio.

1. A story of a brothel romance, during the 1600 to 1800s.

Emily was sitting on her bed. She was not one of those whores. She was just a girl, who needed a job. She did not like what she had done, her eyes were glued to the floor as the male was standing at the door. He had a soft face, and the look of regret was written all over his freckled face. He had not meant to cause this girl so much pain. He should have known that this girl was not one of those women of the night. She was too soft and sweet looking. He just stepped over to her side, grabbing her hand. "Emily, do please forgive me...." his voice was soft against Emily's face as he pressed a kiss against it. It was obvious that he wasn't going to do what he had originally planned.

2. A cruel WW2 story between a Russian Spy and a German general's wife.

His tears felt warm as they fell against my forearm, my eyes shut, holding back my own tears. Misha was laying hurt, in my arms. He had been shot, moments ago, by a child, who was a bit too trigger happy. I could not let him die. "Misha, come on..." She whispered, helping him up. "I know someone who can help," I explained. There was a doctor that catered to special needs and would not question about Misha's history or anything. I just needed to get him there and get him there FAST.

3. A killer husband and a petite housewife.

The blood was something else, and Ben could not, actually wouldn't dare, ask his wife to even clean up anything involving this murder. He was ashamed, but he needed her help. He got up from the floor and looked at the stairs in a very conflicted way, for climbing the stairs. His wife was asleep. She had had a long day, and now, she may be cleaning up even more than she expected she would ever have to clean up. Ben breathed in and opened the door. Shiloh, their dog, barked, before realizing who it was and Piper woke up. She looked at Ben and muttered, "what's wrong, hun?" and Ben's heart sunk. He kneeled by the bed and kissed his wife's forehead. "I did something bad..." Ben whispered and swallowed hard. 

4. Involving Edgar Allen Poe.

My fingers ran over the small, leather bound copy of a collection of Edger Allen Poe's greatest works, as I sat, in the floor of my partner's room. I was paired with some jock, on this book project, and he agreed with me, in doing Edger Allen Poe, thankfully. It was easy and they could do some real cool ideas with it. When I heard James walking back up the stairs, the door slammed shut and I was cornered, into the back of my room. I yelped softly. I could hear James's frantic knocking, asking what was wrong, as black smoke moved around me. A dark figure moved from the shadow and the lights burst, causing the glass, from the light bulbs to go everywhere. "Taylor, give us the book," but my hand held the book, unmoving as the thing came closer, till its hot, musty breath was against my face. I felt sick and finally James broke through. There was a high pitch shriek and I fell to the ground. James then ran to me, grabbing my arms, asking what had happened. I couldn't spoke, I just shook my head.

5. Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. Any Hunter S. Thompson fans?
Danny held a book close to her chest. She was scared, more than anything. She was following her favourite Journalist's path. Hunter S. Thompson was a bit influence in Danny's work. Minus, all the drugs that Thompson had done. She was with her editor, Mr. Kain, as they were riding into Nashville. Danny had an appointment to meet withe Hells Angels. It was a bit unnerving and she knew how they treated their women, so she knew she had to be cautious, and make sure she did not offend anyone, while she was staying with the vicious, motorcycle group.

6. Skinwalkers.
A deer laid, quietly, on the forest floor. It seemed to have had its fill of grass and berries, as it sat there with a tentative expression. The doe seemed to be on edge, but soon something caught her attention, and her head jerked to one side. A wolf, hiding in the bushes, staring intently on the doe. The doe's ears popped up as it got to her hooves. Their eyes were locked for a brief moment before the doe shot off into one direction and the wolf followed after. The deer's thought process was something along the lines as fearful and terrified as she skidded a stop. Something about this seemed a bit different than just any, ordinary wolf and soon, the deer turned into something that no one would expect. A human girl. The wolf was behind her, lumber and snarling, but when the girl turned the wolf stepped back, bowing its head in a respectful manner. Seemed that the wolf was not all it was cracked up to be.

Tattoos

Art, in general, is just a great inspiration of mine. Tattoos are always incorporated into my stories and I just really love them, more than anything.

Inspiration.

Not only is this just strange and weird, but it is amazing. I love the sound and it helps me get into the beat of writing. 

And Tessellate, by Alt-J is not only part of the creating the title of my novel, but it really good and I love listening to Alt-J while I'm writing. It's truly inspiring, since everything has a nice, underlining story and meaning.