Hello everyone ☺️,

Only the first 50 pages.

The story is a crossover of romantic fantasy with speculative fiction elements.

It’ll be a pleasure to hear from you. Hope to return the favour too. Drop me a DM.

Looking for a beta reader for my Percy Jackson fanfiction!

Hi everyone! 😊

I’m looking for a beta reader for my Percy Jackson fanfiction Space Between. It’s currently around 70k words long, and I’m aiming for a total of approximately 100–130k words.

It’s a Percabeth (Percy/Annabeth) fic set in a Chaos Army AU. Ideally, I’d love to find someone who knows the fandom, enjoys discussing chapters and plot developments, and would be willing to help me with spelling and grammar. I’m not a native English speaker (I’m around B2 level), but I’m doing my best!

Here’s the blurb:

The war against Gaea was over. Annabeth and Percy had started their studies in New Rome. For the first time, life felt calm. But that peace ended when they returned to Camp Half-Blood for their semester break.

One night, Percy was laughing with his friends around the campfire. The next, he stood accused of betrayal and treason. Crimes he never committed. Hunted by those he trusted, he escaped before a verdict could be passed.
Percy vanishes to a place no one would ever think to look, far beyond the reach of Olympus. There, he joins a power greater than the gods themselves and tries to bury the life he lost. But the past does not stay buried. When Percy is told to return to the camp that destroyed him, he must face the people who condemned him—and decide whether he will protect the world that betrayed him or finally turn his back on it for good.

Content notes:
Explicit spoilers for The Mark of Athena and The House of Hades
- Swearing
- Betrayal of trust
- Percy being a seaweed brain

If you’re interested in beta reading this fic, discussing chapters with me, or helping me polish my English, feel free to DM me! I’d love to find someone to share ideas with along the way. 😊

Hi everyone! I'm looking for beta readers for just the short prologue and first chapter of my fantasy story, The Death Knight. It's about a legendary knight who is resurrected 100 years after his death to save a crumbling realm. If you're able to read it (thank you so much if you do!), I'd be curious to know if the chapter:

- Kept your interest and left you curious or wanting to know more.

- Was paced too slow/fast.

- Left you with any confusion or dissatisfaction.

Thanks so much again! Please DM me if interested!

Hey guys so this is my first actual piece of writing from my world building project; Valthera. I guess the lore of the species and all that is irrelevant but let me know what you guys think of this! Thanks!

Kothor’s Last Stand

The sounds of metal clanking, screams of the injured, or yells of the enraged may have been what made him come to. Perhaps it was his own pure determination to fight, or his concrete resolve. Perhaps, it was simply fate. 
Whatever the reason, Kothor’s eyes slowly opened, the ringing in his ears fading. For a moment, he had forgotten. For just a moment, he had forgotten watching his clanmates get slain before his eyes. Forgotten the pride he had for his clan to lead them into battle. Forgotten the trust they had put in him to keep them safe and bring them to victory. 

But just for a moment.

With a roar, Kothor grasped his Fang off the dusty earth next to him and sprung to his feet. Looking around, he saw the battle had taken a turn for the worse. His clan, the Varkesh, had taken heavy losses and are now severely outnumbered. Their green leather has been outshined by the more prominent crimson of the Orvakka tribe, covering the battlefield like a sea of blood. The once massive ranks have shrunk down to several smaller scrimmages, each of his 1 clan members facing about 2 or 3 enemies. After getting slammed in the head by a shield from the enemy tribe, Kothor wasn’t sure how long he had been out, but he knew it was far too long. 
“Kothor! You’re alive! Please, hel-“. He hears the cry of his clan member off to the right, cut short. Kothor watched in anger as a sword sliced through the side of Kavrek, who only yesterday Kothor shared a meal with. Enraged, Kothor sprints towards them, his strong, lean legs kicking up clouds of dust behind him. He recognizes the killer, the same one that knocked him out. The enemy Vaaskari clangs his sword against his shield, letting out a guttural shout, and charges toward Kothor. Now fully awake, Kothor drops, sweeping the enemy off his feet with a swift kick. The unnamed enemy falls to the ground with a hard thud. Kothor, standing over him, snarls as he drives his Fang deep into the enemy's chest. Blood spurting from his mouth, he lets out a drowned attempt at a scream, before going still. 
Kothor takes a moment to analyze the battlefield. One by one, his warriors are falling. They’re severely outnumbered. He quickly estimates he has about 12 or 13 men left, while the enemies numbers are closer to 50. Glancing to his right, he sees a tall rock jutting out of the barren desert landscape. 
“Varkesh!” Kothor calls out, climbing to the top of the rock looking down on the battlefield. A few heads turn. “We will not win this battle! Return to the camp and gather reinforcements!” Most of his tribe hears the call, and while not all are able to flee, those that do make haste. As his clan members run past him back to the camp, a smaller, lean Vaaskari hesitates at the rock and looks up at Kothor. 
“But Kothor, the Orvakka is bound to chase us! Running is pointless, we will die here!” 
“Do not worry Zek.” Kothor lowers his gaze to his clanmate. “I will ensure you all have the time you need to make it back safely. 
“Kothor…I-“
”Go. Now. And do not stop until you get to the clan. Tell Zorick to gather the last of the able fighters. I will hold them back.” Zek seems like he wants to object. Kothor looks and notices Zek’s hands shaking, remembering them shaking the same way when he was teaching the young warrior to wield a blade. Zek swallows his words and continues to run. 
As expected, the remaining forces of the Orvakka clan attempt to chase down the fleeing Varkesh members. Before they arrive at the rock, Kothor leaps down, blocking their path. 
“You will not pass this rock. This is where your life ends.” Kothor shouts out. Behind his cold stare and the adrenaline pumping through his veins, a pit of dread sinks in his stomach. His eyes dart from enemy to enemy, now standing still in front of him. He counts them, ”Forty..no…fifty.” A bead of sweat forms on his temple as he counts up the Orvakka before him. Before he makes a move, an enemy steps forward. He is tall, even for a Vaaskari, about 7 foot 10 inches, with a slender but muscular build. His bronze skin radiates from the blistering desert sun above them. The white painted marks along his skin indicate he must be some sort of special figure within their tribe. 
“Even a warrior as skilled as yourself must realize you cannot hold us back, much less win this battle.” The enemy says in Vaaskari tongue. A few of the Orvakka go to charge, but the painted figure raises his hand and they come to a stop. 
“I will not let you pass.” Kothor repeats. 
“I will allow you this one chance. We will kill the remaining warriors of your clan one way or the other, but if you surrender your camp and land to us, we will spare your women and children. We both need each other’s territories, each other's reasources…this is something I truly wish could be avoided. We both know it can’t.” The enemy replies in a cold, firm voice.
“It is my duty to protect the people of my clan and our territory. You Orvakka have tried time and time again to infiltrate our tribe and decimate our land. Today it will come to an end.” Kothor snarls, drawing his blade. The painted Vaaskari pauses for a moment, locking his gaze to Kothor’s.
“Yes. Today it will end.” In a swift movement, the painted Vaaskari takes his hand, which had been signaling his warriors to halt, and moves it forward, slicing through the air. The Orvakka charge past him. 

Kothor takes a deep breath, bracing himself. Two smaller Orvakka make it to him first, weapons in the air. Kothor side-steps, kicking one into the other before swiping his Fang towards the ground, slicing both enemies with one movement. He rushes forwards towards the next group of enemies. Another two smaller Orvakka and a larger, bulkier one. The larger Orvakka lets out a cry as he swipes his cudgel down towards Kothor, towering over him. Kothor, being quite large and muscular himself, lifts his blade and parries the attack, sending the larger Orvakka tumbling backwards. One of the smaller Orvakka manages to slice away a piece of Kothor’s once pristine leather armor, now covered in dust and blood, barely missing his flesh. He elbows the attacker in the throat, grabbing his sword and throwing it at the other smaller Orvakka clan member, piercing him in the chest. After finishing off the stunned attacker, Kothor runs atop the large Orvakka enemy, stomping his head into the dusty earth while leaping towards the next set of attackers.
The battle rages on as Kothor sliced through enemy after enemy. After what feels like an eternity, the greatest Vaaskari warrior has depleted the Orvakka numbers down significantly. The remaining enemy Vaaskari stand next to the painted figure. Bloodied and bruised, Kothor counts again. “Twelve more..twelve more left.” Kothor’s breath is ragged, his chest rising and falling. The grip on his Fang loosens. A concerned expression escapes the painted Vaaskari’s otherwise cold gaze and he looks at Kothor. He steps forward.
”Truly, it is a shame. Instead of saving some of your clan, you have chosen to condemn them all to death.” He unsheathes his sword. A long, gleaming silver blade, sharpened on both sides. It was unlike any sword Kothor had ever seen. The harsh desert sunlight practically blinded Kothor with the reflection off of the blade. A red jewel forged in the middle of the steel seemed to soak up the light directly from the sun. The painted figure rushes forward and swings. Kothor steps forward to meet him and swings his Fang to block the attack. 
CLANG-KRAAACK!
Kothor stumbles backward, his Fang falling to the ground. The Fang has been shattered in half by the superior steel of the painted figure’s mysterious sword. 

Kothor glances at his broken Fang laying in the sand. Without hesitation, the painted figure unleashes another swing. In a split second, Kothor rolls backwards, grabbing his blade, and runs past the painted figure, ducking his attack. 
“You idiots, attack him!” The painted figure howls in Vaaskari tongue. Seemingly shocked at the events unfolding before them, the remaining 12 Orvakka members snap back to their senses and charge at Kothor, releasing battle cries. Kothor, with his broken Fang, slashes two Orvakka members through the stomach before feeling a cold, piercing sensation in his side. One of the Orvakka members had managed to stick him in his right side with their spear. With a low growl, Kothor rips the spear out of his body, knocking down the attacker with a strong kick to the chest. He launches the spear at another incoming enemy  and pierces him directly through his heart. Kothor looks behind him, checking on the painted figure who is now making his way back towards him. In the moment he turns around, he feels another burning sensation in his back as a smaller Orvakka plunges a dagger through him. Kothor lets out a cry and falls to his knees, as blood stains his leather armor. Three more Orvakka approach him, their spears drawn. The faces of his clan members flash through Kothor’s mind. His promise to Zek rings in his ears. A jolt of energy rushes through his body. He stands, grabbing one of the spears and yanking the enemy towards him, introducing their chest to his broken Fang. He swings the limp body into the other two enemies, knocking them down before finishing them off. With a shout of rage, he rushes towards the remaining four enemy Vaaskari. In a flurry of swipes, one falls. Then two. Then three. Kothor approaches the final Orvakka who is backing up in horror. Kothor grabs him by the throat, and readies to shove his blade through him. He winces in pain and stops. 

Looking down, he sees a long gleaming silver blade, now dripping in blood, coming out of his chest. He looks back to see the tall, painted Vaaskari behind him, his sword completely piercing Kothor’s body. With a final burst of energy, he pulls the Orvakka  in front of him towards him with the force of a hundred Vaaskari, shoving his blade through him, and dropping him to the dust. The blade in Kothor’s chest pushes deeper through him. Kothor utters a watery cough, blood spewing from his mouth as the blade is slid out of his chest and he falls on his back to the ground.
The painted Vaaskari stands over Kothor, his silver blade dripping crimson onto the sand.
"I told you," he said, looking down at the fallen chief. "This will end today."
A sharp whistle cuts through the air. The Vaaskari's expression changes. He looks down slowly, a spear protruding from his chest.
The painted figure looks back up at Kothor, laying in the desert sand. A look of confusion and bitterness run across his face. He falls to the ground across from Kothor with a loud thud, blood gurgling from his throat. Kothor lifts his head slightly, the strength leaving his body. Behind them, he sees Zek, who appears to have just released a spear, with Zorick and the remaining reinforcements standing behind him. Zek looks like he has seen a ghost. A face not of victory and satisfaction, but of horror as he locks eyes with Kothor, whose head falls back down to the sand. 

 
In the aftermath of the battle and the  bloodshed that stained the Great Dunes of the Caldorian Desert, Zek and Zorick would eventually go on to negotiate a truce with the surviving leaders of the Orvakka tribe. What began as an agreement between the two warring clans would spread throughout Vaaskari civilization over generations, birthing the belief that disputes and disagreements between their own species should be settled without bloodshed, as many lives on both sides were lost.
Kothor fought to protect the lives of his people, and their safety, yet his final stand would come to represent something much greater than victory or defeat. The lives lost that day served as a testimony of the devastation a violent species such as the Vaaskari could inflict upon their own kind.
As generations passed, the story of Kothor’s Last Stand spread well beyond the Varkesh clan  and the Orvakka  tribe. With each retelling and written documentation, his extraordinary feat grew more and more impossible. Fifty enemies became a hundred, then a hundred became an entire army. Some even went on to claim that no mortal weapon known could pierce his legendary flesh, while others insisted that even death itself had struggled to claim him, that he instead  allowed it to come. The truth slowly faded away beneath generations and centuries of admiration, exaggeration, and idolization
Eventually, the Vaaskari came to believe that no ordinary warrior could have accomplished such a feat. Kothor was no longer remembered simply as a chief who had sacrificed himself to buy time for his clan to win a battle, but as a divine being; a god. In Kothorism, it is said he was the first member and immortal chief of the Ancestral Clan, where all Vaaskari that die honorably go to hunt, eat, and live on for eternity under his rule. His shattered Fang became a symbol of his final stand, and his name became the foundation of the Kothorian faith that would spread throughout Vaaskari civilization in all of  Valthera long after the truth of his mortal life had been forgotten.
From the blood soaked sand of the Great Dunes, a warrior became a legend, and a legend became a god.

Hello all,

I am a long time amateur writer, and a friend of mine suggested looking for cold readers on this sub. This would be the first in a long series of novels in a world I've had since childhood.

Seven days before his Kindling, Shais carries his clan's fuel up a dying mountain. In Fire, every flame a caster calls is paid for with their own body heat, and anyone who can't call one is left uncounted. At the Kindling, Yael, the princess he was raised beside, calls the greatest flame in a generation, and Shais's ember dies in his hands. When Light summons Yael to its border post to be measured, Shais goes as her warder anyway, just as her power starts to fail and Fire begins to lose its patience. Content warnings: death of a secondary character, mild violence, mention of an infant's death, parental grief.

I'm looking for big-picture feedback rather than line edits: whether the first third holds your attention, when (or if) you figure out what's going on with Shais, whether the characters' choices feel believable, and whether the magic and its costs are clear. Mostly I want to know anywhere you got confused or bored. I have a short optional question sheet I can share. I'm hoping for feedback within 4 weeks and am happy to swap for fantasy, sci fi or YA up to ~100k.

I have a very demanding weekday work schedule, so most of my response would be on weekends. DM me if interested and I can send you .pdf and an optional short answer sheet I wrote up as well.

Hi All, Looking for Beta Readers for my latest novel, A Tale of Silk and Jade. This one is a romance / fantasy.

Summary: Tercia Segara loves her home. Who wouldn't love the pristine white beaches and tropical rainforests of Cacoria. But across the waves, war rages on the mainland. As hungry eyes turn toward the peaceful islands, she is sent by her sister, the queen, to broker an alliance with Eilon, home to the most powerful magic users on the continent. The alliance depends on Tercia delivering a final gift to the Eilonian ambassador, a gift that not even her sister would reveal.

On the trip, Tercia meets up with Darius, the Ambassador to Eilon and her childhood crush. Keeping her attention on the mission just got harder. He helps her deliver the gift to the Eilonian Crown Prince. The gift, however, changes everything and suddenly Tercia is thrown into the arrogant and rigid Eilonian Court, where the slightest insult can result in blood. To secure the alliance, she must first survive. Even if that means sacrificing her freedom.

First Pages Link: https://www.reddit.com/r/BetaReaders/comments/1w4522z/comment/p9uy23u/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button

Feedback: Looking for pacing, tension and just general impressions and opinions. This story has been highly influenced by Eastern cultures, languages and traditions. If possible, I would like an insider's opinion to see if there is anything off. Mostly Chinese, Vietnamese and Balinese cultures and language.

Critique Swap: Am always happy to

Timeline: I'd like to have the beta read finished by the end of the year but understand these months are busy for everyone.

Many thanks :)

I have this problem where I have no inkling of the unwritten social rules around what's considered offensive/cancellable. Since, I don't keep up with social drama, as I assumed that people only get in trouble if you do... Uh 🍇 someone. But, recently I saw some of the things Minecraft YouTubers were getting bullied over and HOLY FUCK

AT LEAST 60% OF MY HUMOR MIGHT GET MY NON EXISTENT PR TEAM CRYING.

For context, I've made Epstein jokes, multiple paedophile jokes, and other wildly inappropriate jokes while thinking nothing of it. I grew up around friends who made a lot of edgy, taboo humor, so Ig I got used to treating everything casually. (It's so clueless that I probably made some other writers in the niche opt out)

To be clear, I don't support what I joke about. But I also realize that my intentions don't automatically determine how a joke comes across to other people.

I am willing to learn about social rules since I am new to posting works online. So, of course I want a decent reputation.

My criteria for beta readers (sorta)

I want people who can tell me when my humor crosses the line in ways I haven't considered, when something comes across as unintentionally cruel, or when a character's behavior is framed differently from how I intended.

You don't have to approve of my jokes, just tell me your reaction or impression. I just wanna understand how my writing comes across to different readers.

I might send you other works than what I stated in the title (if you want), as I am planning to clean those shit up too.

If you're willing to help me figure out what works, what doesn't, and WHY, I'd genuinely appreciate it.

Also, my works are fanfiction, and their logic is very unrealistic as it is straight up crack.

Summary: Every birthday at 4:50 a.m., the forest returns something you’ve lost. The only rule is to count to 100 and never open the door.

Inspiration: I’ve always been a big fan of Stephen King and Dean Koontz, so I wanted to capture that blend of supernatural mystery, psychological suspense, and emotional storytelling (with a little small town folk horror mixed in).

What I’m looking for: Thoughts on pacing, character development, suspense, and whether the story keeps you wanting to turn the page. I’m especially interested in anything that feels confusing, repetitive, or slows the story down.

First story so really nervous!

Junior electrical substation technician Tara works under extreme pressure to keep her colony's failing power grid from collapsing. When her warnings of an impending blackout are dismissed as delusional and workplace unrest turns violent, she realizes survival means leaving. Her only hope is to secure entry into the ruling empire's elite national laboratory, the pinnacle of energy research. But the empire selectively accepts foreigners, requiring her to prove herself as someone that they can claim as their own. Tested and alienated beyond her limits, she must return with answers before her colony is bled dry.

This work draws loosely upon British India and the Kafala system. It contains central themes of xenophobia, misogyny, and ethics of the dual-use dilemma (scientific research that can be both beneficial and weaponized).

This is a sci-fi with fantasy elements. At this stage, I'm targeting pacing, emotional intensity, plot clarity, and making the technical lab work feel accessible.

Please let me know if you're interested, I'm happy to provide more information!

Hey, I finished my first novel and I need people who don't know me to read it and be honest.

It's about a guy named Jin who reads dead languages for a living. A nuclear waste site in Finland calls him because they found a wall of carvings way underground, and the symbols match drawings his little brother made as a kid. His brother went to that same site nine years ago and never came back. So Jin goes down to read the wall, and the people with him start dying in the order they understand it.

It starts slow, then it doesn't stop. There's a mystery under the horror, and I tried to make every twist fair. Heads up for body horror, drowning, and religious stuff. Nothing sexual, and nothing happens to kids.

Mostly I just want to know where you got bored, when you figured out the secret, what actually scared you, and if anything didn't add up. I can send an EPUB or PDF, no rush, around four weeks is fine. Happy to read yours back too.

Comment or DM me if you're in. Thanks for reading this far.

Seeking beta exchange or beta feedback for THE SHULAMITE, a 125k work of historical fiction. The below narrative is taken from my current query letter:

Imagine a novel that combines the biblical reimagining of THE RED TENT with the immortality and longing of THE INVISIBLE LIFE OF ADDIE LARUE. THE SHULAMITE is a 125,000-word historical novel with a speculative premise that imagines the origins of the Song of Songs through a love story spanning eight centuries.

Around 930 BCE, Asira is a village girl who meets a young shepherd. As they fall in love, they express their feelings in poetry. Their life together is cut short when he is murdered. Unable to imagine life without him, Asira takes her own life. But that is not the end.

God restores Asira to life and condemns her to remain in the world as long as King Solomon lives. Yet when Solomon dies, she does not.

For the next eight centuries, she moves through the ancient world searching for the man she loved and the poetry they created together. She refuses to accept that he is gone, but over time is forced to confront the reality of his death—and the possibility that some trace of him might survive in another.

In 128 BCE, Asher, a young Jewish shepherd, dreams of a mysterious woman and begins writing poetry he believes is his own. Then he meets Alia, a mysterious woman who saves his life when violence erupts. She tells him the story of Asira, and as her tale unfolds, Asher begins to wonder whether a love story that ended eight centuries before his birth ever truly ended at all.

At its heart, THE SHULAMITE is a love story drawn from one of the most enduring texts in human history.

Would love someone simply to read it and provide general feedback. Does it keep you turning the page? Do you care about the characters? Is it compelling? If you picked it up off the shelf and thumbed through it, would you be interested? Are the characters believable? These are the kind of general feedback I'm seeking.

I am happy to do the same for your novel.

​

My story "The Princes" essentially follows two brothers, Lucius (MC) and Marcus his little brother, born nobles of great houses discover that the king succession in the kingdom of valen (the kingdom they live in) isnt simply hereditary, all children of the 7 great houses have a equal shot at the throne. So technically they both, as well as any othee children of the great houses, are princes in a way. Lucius, a intellectual genius and scholar is the polar opposite of his younger brother who has far outgrown him already in hight and strength. They both study under a personal trainer before the academy starts and the plunge into the brutal and ruthless competition for succession of an extremely darwinist king.

Also I thought to mention that the magic system distinguishs magic users by tattos used to unlock dormant magic. So sick ass character design opertunities.

( I wasnt even going to add this but my friend told me that it was cool.and more people would want to read it if they knew, it just isn't central to the story other than the fact that fights are changed because of magic so I didnt see it nessasary but apparently sick ass magic tattoos that glow when you use them are a deal maker for some people.)

Let me know what you think of the primise of book one of my planed trilogy. And if anyone is interested in being a beta reader let me know. I can DM you the first couple chapter of what I have.

I'm an author looking for some beta readers for my science fiction short story, Trinity.

The premise is that in an alternate timeline, the Trinity atomic bomb test blew a hole in the Earth's atmosphere, permanently damaging the ozone layer. Twenty years on, civilization still exists, but people are now forced to arrange their lives around ultraviolet radiation and other hazards.

I would be very interested to know if the opening scene effectively captures people's attention and creates a desire for people to learn more about my story.

I'll share the opening scene in a Direct Message to anyone who is curious.

Thank you!

Seeking beta readers or a critique swap for my complete novel, THE BEGINNINGS OF A WOMAN. I took the below from my current query letter:

Imagine a novel that combines the reimagined mythology of CIRCE with the philosophical journey of THE ALCHEMIST. Add the immortality and longing of THE INVISIBLE LIFE OF ADDIE LARUE, and you have THE BEGINNINGS OF A WOMAN, a 61,000-word upmarket novel with speculative elements.

What if the three Fates of Greek mythology began as one immortal woman who defied fate and fractured time to save the mortal she loved?

Ananke is a primordial entity who has spent millennia observing the world of mortals without ever experiencing it. 

One day, she encounters a sculptor speaking to a marble statue of his dead lover as though the woman were still alive. She finds herself drawn to him, so she inhabits the statue, taking the woman's likeness and her name, Kallia. As Kallia, she begins to learn what it means to love—and to be mortal.

When the sculptor is killed, Kallia defies the natural order by traveling back in time to save him. Again and again, she tries to change his destiny. 

Each time, she fails. And her attempts have consequences. Her interference fractures time and sets in motion the events that transform her into the three Fates. Through those failures, she learns that neither her love nor her nature can bring him back.

Powerless to change the fate of the one man she loves, the fate of everyone else is thrust upon her. 

Would love someone to give it a read and tell me whether they were compelled by the story, the characters, the premise, whether anything knocked them out of the story, whether it was believable, and whether you would want to read it if you found it at the library. For now, that's the sort of feedback I'm seeking. Also happy to do the same for you.

Hello! I'm looking for beta readers for my speculative thriller novel.

Another place to go, another place to learn. Arthur's autism treatments have already dragged his mind and spirit down to a grey gloom, why would he want to move all the way to France? His parents think it'll change something, although the neglect to tell him what.

France.

That's where they're headed, not that it matters anyways, medical needles wait and the constant run to the next wealthy dinner. But when the fight with his father happens, resulting in an accidental injury, he's kidnapped. Like the snap of a finger, like the blink of an eye.

And when he wakes up, memory is no longer on his side. And that's all because of the caretaker hired to wipe him off the face of the earth...all in the name of an inheritance.

While his memory eases it's way back into his mind, he makes a devastating discovery. His parents may not be as clueless as he thought, and the home he was taken to may not be a home...at all. Does the sky really glitch, does the world really loop?

...

DM me (authors only for MS swap) if you want to be my first ever beta reader!

Hi everyone! I’m in need of more beta readers for Aegis.
Here is the current blurb:

The wounds on Moira’s palms haven’t healed in four years. Ever since surviving a violent assault for which she never got justice, she hasn’t been able to release the tight grip on her keys. The once rebellious twenty-two year old Moira now spends her days in the sag of her bed, wishing she could go back to living without the fear and anger that now permeate her every thought. 

So when she learns about an experimental invention by a group of rogue female scientists, a biochemical skin shield named “Aegis” after the shield of Athena, Moira is desperate enough to volunteer as a test subject. The Aegis responds to male touch with lethal toxicity - and it works: Moira’s skin chars a man’s hand when he grabs her. 

As the news of the Aegis inflames both the domestic sphere and politics, Moira urgently wants to use this opportunity to make a real change for women. She starts a grassroots network in which women protect each other and distribute the Aegis through women’s spaces and traditions, like hair salons and bakesales. As men attempt to suppress the growing movement, the women are able to fight back.

Moira revels in finally being physically imposing and able to protect others. But the more she uses her new power, the more she struggles with the kind of person she has become. At the same  time, the women’s unity soon splinters when different factions begin to fight each other: Moira’s close friend believes that justice requires men to live through what women have suffered, while Moira’s sister thinks that women should know better than to make the same mistakes the men did. 

As living with an Aegis allows a whole new world for Moira, and she even falls in love with someone she now can’t ever touch, she must figure out in which direction she wants to lead the movement that she started. 

—

Readers with interests for feminist themes would be much appreciated.

I have availbility to swap - can get feedback back very quickly, and I have a background in literature and linguistics so I can pay very close attention to a novel both on a structural and on a line level.

hope to hear from you!

Seeking 4–5 beta readers for a completed New Adult / contemporary romance, 69,500 words. Forbidden love, slow burn, big Italian-American family, Brooklyn. Moderate heat. Book 1 of a duology, ends hopeful. Looking for honest reader reactions, not line edits. 4-week turnaround. Comment or DM me if interested and I’ll send details privately.

Hey y'all! This manuscript has been through a few betas already. I'd like to begin querying the project again but want to be sure the first 5-10 pages are rock solid. Anyone willing to swap for something like this? Here's the query letter to give you the gist of the project.

DM me if interested!

I am seeking representation for my 85,000-word adult dark sci-fi fantasy, Aure’s Oil. Blending the visceral, biopunk survival of The Last of Us with the fierce, anti-heroine snark and morbid worldbuilding of Tamsyn Muir’s Gideon the Ninth and the ecological mystery of Rachel Gillig’s One Dark Window, it’s a story about bodily autonomy, found families, and finding love in a decaying world.

Torn from the arms of her mother and exiled from the sky-empire of Illuminauch for being genetically “Defective,” twenty-year-old Aure survives the carnivorous fungal wasteland by harvesting a medicinal oil—the only thing that keeps her lethal, body-hardening disease at bay. But when the oil extractor her mother built begins to fail, Aure is mere days away from her final breath.

Her only hope is Mikhail, a brilliant, arrogant bioalchemist with a saviour complex who descended from the sky-empire seeking a cure for his dying sister. He claims he can repair the extractor by scavenging for components if she helps him navigate the wastes. Forced into a reluctant alliance, Aure must entrust her life to a man from the society that condemned her, while Mikhail, lost in lethal terrain, must rely on Aure’s grit to survive.

Their search to repair the extractor leads them to Funguul—a brutal underworld kingdom hidden in the depths of the wasteland. Captured, Aure is declared a prophesied goddess by a manipulative yet eerily familiar Queen and forced into a dangerous political betrothal with Funguul's crown prince. Only she’s not the first “goddess” to set foot in the kingdom. And those who came before her are dead. But the Queen guards a tempting secret that could change Aure’s life forever: a limitless source of her vital oil.

Caught in a web of religious zealotry, lethal court challenges, and her rapidly deteriorating body, Aure must choose: live drop by drop in gilded captivity, or risk everything with Mikhail to repair her extractor and reclaim her freedom. Her choice won't just endanger her life—it will unravel everything she’s ever believed about the wastes, her mother, and herself.

I need at least one beta-reader for a queer 1920's London thriller with found family, lavender marriage and no miscommunications. It's the first of a multi novella series that ends well with a hook for book 2. No explicit sex but frank talk about UTI in men and cynicism of police and God. Misogyny is in line with the time period so very present. I want honest reviews and if you have places for me to improve. DM me if interested.

Okay so there’s definitely a lot going on in this book, it’s very character focused, and tackles a lot of difficult topics through this dystopian society. The main character is twenty five year old Li Xiao Feng, and the entire story is first person perspective through her point of view. She is very much imperfect, she’s a lesbian under a horribly restrictive society and is seeking power within it through any means necessary. I had fun writing this, so if anyone would want to read it and give me some feedback I’d absolutely love to hear it! Let me know and I’ll dm you a Google doc link! :)

**Title**

Velvet House

**Genre**

Historical Fiction/ Tragedy

**Blurb**

A character driven historical novel that begins as a slice of life inside a 1920s theater and slowly becomes a tragedy.

Welcome to the Saint Vireaux Theatre.

For the people who work behind its curtains, the theater is more than a place to perform. It is where they spend their evenings, make their friends, fall in love, chase their ambitions, and grow into the people they were always meant to become.

From the ticket booth to the orchestra pit, from dressing rooms to the stage, every night brings another story. Some are exciting. Some are ordinary. Some are forgotten by morning.

But years have a way of changing things.

As the theater moves forward, so do the people inside it. Dreams become disappointments, friendships become memories, and the place they once called home begins to ask more of them than they ever expected to give.

Still, every night, the lights come up.

And the curtain rises.

**Word Count** 28,658

**Expected turn around** March/April of 2027

**Feedback wanted**

•In doc comments preferred. I have many projects and tend to lose PFD type feedback.

•In line reader reactions

•Pacing

•Emotional Impact

•Historical Accuracy

•Overall Chapter & Book Feedback (can leave a comment at the title, or end of the chapter for overall feedback)

Feel free to dm ♥️ Thankyouuu

"In an ancient city clinging to the bones of a long-dead Leviathan, a street urchin must use all his cunning, strength, and magical talent to navigate the halls of a mysterious cult, survive the intrigues of the low and mighty alike, and undo the horrible damage he’s wrought upon his only family."

Hi all - I'm an author looking for 4-5 beta readers for The Marrow Lanes, a dark fantasy inspired by RF Kuang’s Babel and MA Carrick’s The Mask of Mirrors, with a lot of love for Elden Ring thrown into the mix! The novel explores the relationship between hope and our own worst impulses. Religion is often a hollow shell, but faith - hope - is never a mistake. It is a chain by which we bind ourselves to one another, the only chain not worth breaking.

Quick Synopsis:

In Daghamaroon, a hundred gangs called Claims rule the cobbled streets of the poorest district - the Heap. Agron is a Black Hand Boy, part of a Claim on the up. He and his twin sister Orrin are tasked with a simple snatch-job: steal a book for their chief Tomassen.

The siblings manage to steal the book, but when they are ambushed by a rival gang on the return trip, something goes horribly wrong, and a panicked Agron unknowingly calls upon Grace - a magical force emanating from Leviathan’s decomposing marrow running along carved channels deep beneath the city. Mistakenly channeling it into Orrin causes her to come undone, her very being disintegrating, unravelling before his eyes! Orrin is left a shell of a human being, her mind completely wrecked... but still breathing.

Crying out for help, Agron is found by a Votive of the Ardhanic Church. The monolithic, mysterious religion rules Daghamaroon through Grace. Their adherents use it to heal the sick, shape wondrous creations, and smite their enemies across the city and beyond. Agron and what is left of Orrin are quickly bundled into a carriage and brought to the Consecrate, the Ardhanic Church’s center of power. It is a mysterious compound of labyrinthine halls, stuffed to the brim with strange religious relics.

There, the Votives do what they can for Orrin, but conclude that she is lost - her soul already fled. They urge Agron to put her out of her misery, but he refuses. Instead, after being haphazardly inducted into the Church’s ranks, he smuggles Orrin into the catacombs deep beneath the city, vowing to learn the skills to heal her.

His quest to do so will see him make some strange friends and more than a few enemies, plumb the terrifying depths of the Consecrate, learn to master Grace, and all but start a gang war between the Claims of the Heap.

But what wouldn't you do for family?

Short Excerpt:

No one decent was out at this time of night, so there was no use in trying to act
innocent. They hurried from one corner to another crouched low, across crumbling bridges 
spanning sewage-strewn canals, eyes darting every which way and their breaths catching at
 the sound of every scrambling rat or dream-addled murmur. They swung northwards to avoid 
the open square of the Church of Martyred Suli - too exposed - and hopped the stinking 
Cordaleau canal. Their tattoos branded them all outsiders to this stretch of city, still 
Hounds of Marble Street territory, though the looming ribs of Leviathan and the sooty 
palm print at the corner down a ways called them home - to the Cold Comfort tavern.

He kept his eyes on their escort as they neared the border - they were mumbling between 
each other. Were they nervous to be so close to the relative safety of Mother Street, or 
were they weighing jumping Agron and Orrin for the prize?

“Well, if it ain’t a pack of shit-inked rats thinking they can-”


Agron didn’t hesitate.

The Hound had come up behind them off a side street. He was tall and lanky if his reedy 
voice was anything to go by, and so Agron aimed a fist slightly higher than he normally 
might have, over-committing as he turned - he wasn’t sure how far away the boy was, 
exactly.

His gamble paid off and he connected with the boy’s chin, cutting him off and sending him 
stumbling sideways with a grunt. Orrin wheeled around, but the other two Black Hand Boys 
made a run for the border! Agron’s shock was like a knife to the belly - they were always 
meant to stand their ground, those were Tomassen’s orders, especially anywhere near their 
own turf! Couldn’t have other Claims thinking they were soft. 

Maybe the older boys didn’t give a shit, or maybe they were just smarter than that. In 
the end, the “why” didn’t matter much. Things fell apart - it's all they ever did.

The older boys ran, making it to the end of the alley and around the corner into Black 
Hand territory, and two Hounds took their place, penning Agron and Orrin in, as a fourth
 leaned over from a nearby rooftop, silhouetted by the moon, slingshot in hand. The boy 
Agron had decked hadn’t gone down, meaning he wasn’t quite as sniveling a prick as Agron 
might’ve hoped. He pressed the boy before he could recover though, leaving Orrin for a 
moment to bob and weave, keeping the other two at bay. They couldn’t worry about the one 
on the roof, just had to pray his aim was for shit.

Agron leapt onto the lanky Hound, keeping him unbalanced and finally bringing him down to
 the hard-packed dirt. He pinned the boy’s arms with his knees and drove a sharp elbow 
deep into his face, feeling it give way messily, then turned to help Orrin. He surged 
forward, but just then the cold crack and stinging bloom of a sharp stone broke against 
the side of his forehead. Fuck! Good aim.

He stumbled sideways instead of forward, and went back down to the ground. Above him, the 
sniper Hound whooped! Agron managed to claw his way back up to standing just as another 
Hound aimed a kick at Orrin’s knee, snapping it backwards with a jarring crack!

Agron inhaled sharply, heart bursting and eyes wide as his sister crumpled sideways like 
a puppet with its strings cut! The air tasted strange - of vanilla, and rust. 

Then Orrin was thrown back and he was there in an instant to catch her. He cradled her in 
his arms, the pain on her face sending throbbing waves of deep red anger through him. He 
held her close and turned his gaze on the Hounds, his skin prickling, every muscle and 
tendon in him stretched taut.

Then they all screamed.

The Hounds backed off, and the horror on their faces caught Agron off-guard. Above them, 
the sniper swore and disappeared. the moon shone brightly now on Agron, his right eye 
shut tight against the blood flowing freely from his forehead, dripping onto his sister 
as she... as she...

Oh God...

As she unraveled.

Details:

- Hoping for a (4) week turnaround, but flexible!

- Looking for honest reader reactions - what works, what doesn't - rather than line edits.

- Happy to read similar work in return, but please note I'm a new dad on leave and have less time to read than I'd like.

- Triggers: Body Horror, Self-harm, Domestic Violence, Indoctrination, Torture, Miscarriage & allusions to Cannibalism.

- Feel free to DM if interested. Otherwise, let me know if you're down in the comments and I'll DM you. Thank you for your consideration!

Disclaimer:

No AI was used in the making of this work, and no AI may be implemented in any way when reading the work or sending feedback.

One Sentence Pitch:

Entities from the 4th dimension and the practice of Qigong enable one man, Adam, to survive a 20-year career in the deadly MMA games of the future, but powerful interests seek to assassinate him before he can retire.

Content Warnings: PG-13 (some violence)

Comparable books:

Rollerball Murder by William Neal Harrison (basis for 1975 film)

General Description and Marjor Plot Elements:

This is an alternate near-future universe in which romance, political intrigue, and unearthly spiritual forces mix in unpredictable fashion in a media-drenched, violence-filled world where corruption extends to the highest levels of government. Even the President of the United States is involved in trying to fix matches: she wants to eliminate Adam and contrives to match him against a paid killer. Adam's wife Eevie wants to see him retire from the games and Adam promises to do so, but media pressures, contracts, and allegiances to his teammates prevent him from taking the final step. Meanwhile, his protective spirit from the 4th dimension seeks to clear a path for him.

What I am looking for:

A Beta reader, preferably familiar with this type of fiction, who will read through the first 50 pages and tell me if the story is compelling or not and why, along with a short list of good and bad points in terms of characters, dialogue, and plot. In other words, I would like to know if you think it is ready to be submitted to a literary agent or publisher.

If interested, PM me. I will send you a PDF copy.

I am hoping for a 2-3 week turnaround time.

Link to first page:

https://www.reddit.com/r/BetaReaders/comments/1wutcrf/comment/phiv1or/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button

Critique Swap:

Yes, I am willing to do a critique swap.

DM for 4 Chapter Manuscript.

When one generation of corporate elite becomes disillusioned by religious dogma, they accidentally cause a revolution. The citizens of Asgård live in symbiosis with a mycelial super intelligence on the brink of collapse.