WARNING
This contains nudity. It’s not prurient, (IMO) but rather more graphic than might be ok for small children. It is necessary as it is within a YA paranormal romance novel and an extra question I want answered is whether passages like this would put off editors or interest them
This is the beginning of Chapter II in the book whose opening I submitted a few weeks ago. (I have copied that out with all it’s critiques as I’ve been told to never rewrite until a work is finished, since some points may be discarded or change as the story develops) Hopefully, it will stand on its own, but shouldn’t be judged too much on immediate hookiness.
______________________
“9062, 472 at 21st on the beach.” The call crackled over Officer Paul Dobson’s radio just as he was about to push the last of the Chili Dog into his mouth. He lifted his lapel and spoke down. “Acknowledged, on my way”. He ate the final bite of his lunch as he rose from the picnic table outside Luigi‘s Deli and Pizza, crumpled the paper and threw it and the empty coke cup into the trash can. He felt a slight alarm as he realized he had wanted to get the free refill and prolong his break slightly but then remembered he was on a call anyway.
21st, that placed it several blocks away, and a 472 was a small disturbance but also requiring immediate attention, as some physical violence had either taken place or was necessary. No other numbers but his told him he was the only one called though.
Damned short handed resorts, he thought breaking into a light jog over the boardwalk. He had to move fast but the last thing he wanted was to arrive at a fight out of breath. He saw the crowd on the beach well before he got there. His immediate thought was that he needed backup but he stifled the urge to call. “Assess the situation thoroughly” he remembered the instructor’s particular emphases on this.
Even though he’d only seen pictures of various crowd types in the movies they showed in classes he was good at observing and seemed to know instinctively it was indeed some sort of conflict. Nonetheless, it could still be a drowning or an injury mistaken for an altercation. He vaulted the fence and broke into the sprint that had won him the State HS championship just last year.
Not over sand though, he thought ruefully
He pushed his way through the crowd and only had to shout “Police” once, to make a path open. Several voices assailed him as he saw what they all were looking at.
A man, one of the college crowd, was laying on the sand, unmoving. Overtop him, in a strange but obviously assumed fighting stance was a small girl. She was naked, and even on a beach where young girls constantly vied with each other as to how unclothed they could legally be she was still very notable. Her face, makeup free, was stunningly beautiful; her nose straight and small, lips full and inviting, eyes almost preternaturally large, the whole effect both alluring and innocent at once. Her neck was rather long and the slender hourglass body it rose from was….perfect…no other world could describe it, and indeed even that didn’t do it justice. She had obviously just come from the ocean and the water glistened on her flawless skin, making it appear as smooth as that of the porpoises he had seen in the Aquarium
Officer Dobson stared at her with his mouth open and had to make a conscious effort not to drool.
He looked in her eyes, greenish blue, they betrayed both fear and determination, a strange wariness but very focused and alert.
“Miss…”, he began.
“Ashkabi vonam,” she replied very positively, “tellara wa, tokabi nex chovu, akhan VOO.” the last word was said just that way, with great emphases.
Paul Dobson lifted his radio. “Dispatch, I need backup and an ambulance. And make sure there’s a psych aide in the crew”
“That’s a 921” came the bored voice, “and all the aides have psych training. Is anyone unconscious, how are the pulses?”
Officer Dobson berated himself slightly, realizing he should have reported this first. He knelt and touched the man’s neck, feeling a strong pulse. “Yes” he replied, “one down, one up”. He looked at the girl again as he leaned down to listen for breathing. It, too, was strong, even if somewhat short for an unconscious man but that fact was lost on the policeman. No matter what, he could not tear his eyes away from the girl. She was far from tall, but willowy still best described her shape. Her breasts were not large but not small either, perfect half globes above a waist that he was sure he could span with both hands. Below that her hips flared and her womanhood, totally glabrous and spread slightly by her stance was the last thing seen before shapely thighs continued on into delicate calves and ankles.
“Is the one down breathing?” The electronic voice at his neck tore him out of his reverie and he looked up in embarrassment, but then realized that few of the male eyes surrounding were regarding him. He actually shook his head to clear it as he rose.
“Yes, breathing appears strong”, he replied quietly. Then he turned to the crowd. “Alright let’s stand back ” though it was obvious all the boys watching were giving the girl a wide berth. “Did anyone see what happened here?”
“She hit him.” replied one boy. “She comes walking past all totally naked and sexy and Ralph went up and begins to talk, you know, just talk like you do. I mean maybe she thought this was a nude beach and Ralphie was just trying to clue her in, and then she starts speaking Arabic or something. Now Ralphie goes to put his arm around her, just to be comforting, like, you know and she hits him across the neck then flips him six feet into the air. He’s got a concussion for sure, I know it.”
The boy at Dobson’s feet stirred. He lifted his head.
Dobson kneeled down, “Just lie quietly” he said. His voice was low and calm but businesslike. The temporary policeman heard a siren and saw an ambulance and a patrol car coming toward them across the sand. He looked at the girl again who was still standing in the same stance, the same look in her eyes. Dobson was relieved she would soon be somehow covered and in the patrol car, for he could sense the crowd growing restive, but he was a little disappointed too. He had never in his life seen any woman, no, not just any woman, but any object at all, so beautiful. He wished like hell he could take her picture with his cell and still look professional, so he might paint it later, though, except for a garage one summer, he had never painted anything in his life.
This contains nudity. It’s not prurient, (IMO) but rather more graphic than might be ok for small children. It is necessary as it is within a YA paranormal romance novel and an extra question I want answered is whether passages like this would put off editors or interest them
This is the beginning of Chapter II in the book whose opening I submitted a few weeks ago. (I have copied that out with all it’s critiques as I’ve been told to never rewrite until a work is finished, since some points may be discarded or change as the story develops) Hopefully, it will stand on its own, but shouldn’t be judged too much on immediate hookiness.
______________________
“9062, 472 at 21st on the beach.” The call crackled over Officer Paul Dobson’s radio just as he was about to push the last of the Chili Dog into his mouth. He lifted his lapel and spoke down. “Acknowledged, on my way”. He ate the final bite of his lunch as he rose from the picnic table outside Luigi‘s Deli and Pizza, crumpled the paper and threw it and the empty coke cup into the trash can. He felt a slight alarm as he realized he had wanted to get the free refill and prolong his break slightly but then remembered he was on a call anyway.
21st, that placed it several blocks away, and a 472 was a small disturbance but also requiring immediate attention, as some physical violence had either taken place or was necessary. No other numbers but his told him he was the only one called though.
Damned short handed resorts, he thought breaking into a light jog over the boardwalk. He had to move fast but the last thing he wanted was to arrive at a fight out of breath. He saw the crowd on the beach well before he got there. His immediate thought was that he needed backup but he stifled the urge to call. “Assess the situation thoroughly” he remembered the instructor’s particular emphases on this.
Even though he’d only seen pictures of various crowd types in the movies they showed in classes he was good at observing and seemed to know instinctively it was indeed some sort of conflict. Nonetheless, it could still be a drowning or an injury mistaken for an altercation. He vaulted the fence and broke into the sprint that had won him the State HS championship just last year.
Not over sand though, he thought ruefully
He pushed his way through the crowd and only had to shout “Police” once, to make a path open. Several voices assailed him as he saw what they all were looking at.
A man, one of the college crowd, was laying on the sand, unmoving. Overtop him, in a strange but obviously assumed fighting stance was a small girl. She was naked, and even on a beach where young girls constantly vied with each other as to how unclothed they could legally be she was still very notable. Her face, makeup free, was stunningly beautiful; her nose straight and small, lips full and inviting, eyes almost preternaturally large, the whole effect both alluring and innocent at once. Her neck was rather long and the slender hourglass body it rose from was….perfect…no other world could describe it, and indeed even that didn’t do it justice. She had obviously just come from the ocean and the water glistened on her flawless skin, making it appear as smooth as that of the porpoises he had seen in the Aquarium
Officer Dobson stared at her with his mouth open and had to make a conscious effort not to drool.
He looked in her eyes, greenish blue, they betrayed both fear and determination, a strange wariness but very focused and alert.
“Miss…”, he began.
“Ashkabi vonam,” she replied very positively, “tellara wa, tokabi nex chovu, akhan VOO.” the last word was said just that way, with great emphases.
Paul Dobson lifted his radio. “Dispatch, I need backup and an ambulance. And make sure there’s a psych aide in the crew”
“That’s a 921” came the bored voice, “and all the aides have psych training. Is anyone unconscious, how are the pulses?”
Officer Dobson berated himself slightly, realizing he should have reported this first. He knelt and touched the man’s neck, feeling a strong pulse. “Yes” he replied, “one down, one up”. He looked at the girl again as he leaned down to listen for breathing. It, too, was strong, even if somewhat short for an unconscious man but that fact was lost on the policeman. No matter what, he could not tear his eyes away from the girl. She was far from tall, but willowy still best described her shape. Her breasts were not large but not small either, perfect half globes above a waist that he was sure he could span with both hands. Below that her hips flared and her womanhood, totally glabrous and spread slightly by her stance was the last thing seen before shapely thighs continued on into delicate calves and ankles.
“Is the one down breathing?” The electronic voice at his neck tore him out of his reverie and he looked up in embarrassment, but then realized that few of the male eyes surrounding were regarding him. He actually shook his head to clear it as he rose.
“Yes, breathing appears strong”, he replied quietly. Then he turned to the crowd. “Alright let’s stand back ” though it was obvious all the boys watching were giving the girl a wide berth. “Did anyone see what happened here?”
“She hit him.” replied one boy. “She comes walking past all totally naked and sexy and Ralph went up and begins to talk, you know, just talk like you do. I mean maybe she thought this was a nude beach and Ralphie was just trying to clue her in, and then she starts speaking Arabic or something. Now Ralphie goes to put his arm around her, just to be comforting, like, you know and she hits him across the neck then flips him six feet into the air. He’s got a concussion for sure, I know it.”
The boy at Dobson’s feet stirred. He lifted his head.
Dobson kneeled down, “Just lie quietly” he said. His voice was low and calm but businesslike. The temporary policeman heard a siren and saw an ambulance and a patrol car coming toward them across the sand. He looked at the girl again who was still standing in the same stance, the same look in her eyes. Dobson was relieved she would soon be somehow covered and in the patrol car, for he could sense the crowd growing restive, but he was a little disappointed too. He had never in his life seen any woman, no, not just any woman, but any object at all, so beautiful. He wished like hell he could take her picture with his cell and still look professional, so he might paint it later, though, except for a garage one summer, he had never painted anything in his life.
