This is a fun project I have thought about doing for a while, so here it is. I will be posting a few lines each from a variety of genres. None of these are part of my existing stories, though perhaps I may further develop these ideas. Some of these paragraphs will be in medias res, and some will be the beginning of the story.
The ice fields of Narathrandianlithicoretolkienesque stretched to the horizon, and the army of Mekkuppaneim had left a trail the entire way.
"They won't be hard to track, but they could be days ahead of us by now," Haielffenlord said, clutching his silver longbow in his hand.
"Ah, but they must walk, and we will ride upon the wind," Proetagoenist said. "The sail of Mil-Wa-Kee has melded with the sled of Wi-Skaun-Skin."
"I'm sorry," the android said, his head inclined slightly. His eyes blinked. "Please rephrase your question."
"Can you help me up?" I asked, hanging by one arm from the one hundredth floor balcony of the Asimov building.
"Certainly," it said, and with almost comical ease, it pulled me to safety. Aside from the two of us, the room was empty.
"Put down your gun, friend," the stranger said, "I ain't got no quarrel with you."
He was sitting at a corner table, a glass of whisky in one hand and a cigarette in the other.
"You kilt Johnny Davenport!" Sid said, a mean look in his eye.
"Maybe I did," the stranger said, stubbing out his cigarette on the worn table. "I've never been much for names."
The Highlander pirate highwayman shook out his long, untamed hair, his freshly waxed chest glistening in the morning sun. Cordelia blushed and looked away, but only for a moment. She felt a stirring within her, an unquenchable desire, a flood of passion. She must have this man, she must tame him, she must civilize him, she must change him so thoroughly that no trace of the man she desired remains. There will only be a memory, a bitter memory, and she will come to despise this man for being so easily molded.
Young Adult Paranormal Romance (hey, this is where the money is)
"I will drain you," Aelric said, his fangs glistening. "I will take from you all that is human, and leave you a soulless husk. You will wander this world until the end of time, knowing only hunger, knowing only pain. You will never see the sun, and for you Heaven's gates will never open. Is this what you want?"
"Oh, Aelric!" Lara gasped. "What is eternity in Paradise with God and all the angels and saints, when compared with a few painful and torturous years with you?"
"Umh..," Aelric said. "Have you really thought this through? I mean, I really feel like I'm taking advantage of a stupid person here."
There's a monster in the forest, and I think he wants to eat me. There's a cave inside the forest, where he hides all dark and scaley. There's a fire in the cave, where he cooks his food so tenderly. There's a monster in the forest and it's me.
The radio wasn't going to man itself, and so we sat. Hours passed, vehicles left, vehicles arrived, radio checks were made. Sergeant Cortez had a Maxim magazine, and I had Plato's Republic. I don't claim to be more sophisticated, just less honest about what I find interesting.
Around noon, someone brought us chow. This was FOB food, which beat MRE's just about any day of the week. Still, it wasn't home.
"Sar'nt," I said, because no one pronounces the whole word, "the flames are getting a bit closer. Should we move the radios?"
Our company command post was nestled among the wreckage of what used to be our headquarters. The air strike and artillery bombardment had occurred earlier that morning, but I had been so engrossed in the duties of a citizen, I scarcely noticed.
"We have to keep the blood inside!" she screamed, clawing at the walls of her cell. "The one who comes will see! The one who comes will know!"
"Calm yourself," Dr. Preston said. "What are you talking about?"
At this, she stopped and her eyes focused on the wall behind us. Her voice took on a perfect calm.
"He's already here."
Feminist Zombie Apocalypse Non-Fiction
You may find that in this zombie-filled world, an oppressive system of hetero-normative cis-gendered privilege will attempt to assert itself. It will be tempting to fight against this with knives or guns, but the inherently phallic nature of these instruments is problematic and troubling. The best method is to establish free zones of affirmation, where all forces of oppression, both living and undead, are firmly asked not to enter.