A Song of Ice and Fire by

David Eddings

Robert Jordan

Robert Salvatore

Terry Brooks

Terry Pratchett

Terry Goodkind

Alfred Bester

Jack Vance

Robin Hobb

Stephen King

Tom Clancy

Douglas Adams

Emily Bronte

Vladimir Nabokov

Fedor Dostoevsky I

Fedor Dostoevsky II

Ernest Hemingway

Franz Kafka

Irvine Welsh

Edgar Allen Poe

Charles Dickens

Samuel Beckett

John Ronald Tolkien

Joanne Rowling

Lewis Carroll

Sir Thomas Mallory

Alan Alexander Milne

William Gilbert

Jane Austen

Enid Blyton

Matt Groening

Harry Graham

Elmore Leonard

Raymond Chandler

Bret Easton Ellis

Matt Stone

Trey Parker

Barbara Delinsky

Danielle Steel

A Song of Ice and Fire by David Eddings:

Sansa stood on the battlements. She was feeling melancholy; a feeling she found not entirely unpleasant.

Hearing the familiar waddle behind her, she turned to face Tyrion. His beard was even more messy than usual, and his mismatched eyes were shot with red.

"Been drinking again, have you?" she sighed.

Tyrion looked at her grumpily. "I'm happy to see you too, my darling wife. Any word from my oaf of a brother yet?"

"No, milord."

She sniffed. "Don't you think it's time for your annual shower?" "I was never made for showering," he growled, then shot her a wicked glance. "Unless, of course, my lady wife would care to join me?" Sansa's pretty cheeks turned bright red.

"My lord!"

Tyrion's expression became somber. "I'm worried about Jaime. Unless I've misread the Codex completely, he should've been here by now. I have a feeling that I'm missing something important."

Sansa looked at him worriedly. "Another twist of the prophecy, Tyrion? Isn't it about time you told me about my role in it?"

Tyrion groaned. "Haven't we been through this many times already, Sansa? I don't know! The Codex speaks only of the Little Bird, the Lion, the Wardrobe, the Mountain and the Fat Walda. Something big is supposed to happen here, and you're part of it."

Sansa couldn't help it. "Why me?" she said with an impish grin. Tyrion waddled off, muttering curses under his breath.

Author: Denstorebog

A Song Of Ice And Fire by Robert Jordan:

Catelyn sniffed, and looked in disgust at her dress. It was a beautiful dark blue, slashed with black lace, which hugged about a bit too tightly around the bosom, and was cut lower than she would have preferred. Something to be worn in private, perhaps.

She decided she did not have time to change, and began to walk back to the hall. In the wall were niches filled with ceramic lions, and candlesticks so covered in gilt that they could have been solid gold. The floor was covered in mosaic dragons that seemed to be hastily repainted with crowned stags. The ceiling was high, and painted a deep shade of red, and it sloped slowly up to an even greater height for the entrance to the hall. The door was thick wood, banded in iron straps, and held in place with a thick wooden bar. One of the guardsmen was eyeing her bosom with a hungry eye. Catelyn sniffed and gave the guardsman a level look, and he quickly blushed, straightened his collar and looked away. Men, she thought, always gazing at things they can never have.

As the gate swung open with a loud screech, it revealed the dimly lit hall beyond.

TRANSLATION: Catelyn got ready and went to the hall.

Author: Sanelyan

A Song of Ice And Fire by R. A. Salvatore:

With a catlike grace Jon was scaling the cliff. The dangerous fire was leaping in his amber eyes when he thought of the evil descending on the peaceful population of the Seven Kingdoms. Ygritte-Goat Cheese was climbing right behind him, her fair beautiful innocent face showing the thinking process.

"Ther sky is ver' dark and it is gettin' cold, Jon. We're better to set camp" reasoned Ygritte-Goat Cheese. Jon almost tumbled down stricken by the incredible wisdom of the woman. "Dear, dear Ygritte," and his eyes watered. They set up the camp and despite the imminent danger from the presence of ten thousand fifteen hundred and twelve Others crawling in all of the dark corners of the region, Jon set to record his diary.

Jon's Diary:

Friendship is a rarest gift to be given to a bastard. Everyone judges me by me being baseborn and makes vulgar jokes about it and would taunt me and torment me and cut me into many little pieces, but for the armor of my faith in my dear friends...

Suddenly they were under attack. Magically two obsidian scimitars appeared in Jon's hands and Ygritte pulled the string of her curved bow. A striking shiny silver magical arrow flew past Jon almost taking away his ear and pierced roughly twenty of Others, causing them terrifying damage and raining their mis-matched pieces down on Jon.

"Dear Ygritte," sighed Jon, but his orbs were already sparkling with the excitement of the upcoming battle with evil. The obsidian blades started a dance of death, the right one gutting one doomed other and the left one conducting the Rakhmaninov's Second Symphony. He looked in the eyes of the doomed creature to the right and saw that it does not know of its nearing death, just like the doomed creature to the left of him. Instead the ignorant and purely evil Others wiped their transparent hands and cheered their spider mounts on. Jon went into the sidelong roll, then into the back long roll, then he did a triple somersault all the while hacking a slashing until all of the attacking 20 creatures were not dead. Another 40 were cut down by Ygritte's arrows.

"You are hurt!" yelled Jon panicking, seeing a small scratch on Ygritte's face, "I am going to heal you." And Jon pulled out the bottle with bluish liquid out of his pocket and gently smeared it all over Ygritte's pretty fair beautiful face and stood gasping at the incredible shine of her auburn locks. Ygritte smiled: "What are you stare on? Shut yor stupid mouth and kiss me already!" Jon felt dizzy and fell down. In all seventy years of his life on the surface he could not overcome a trauma of his mother being his father's unknown mistress. He could not possibly kiss Ygritte. Besides it was only 20 years since that most wonderful woman broke up with her boyfriend of old.

Author: Domi

A Song of Ice and Fire by Terry Brooks:

Bran couldn't walk but they were right behind him. He thought back to home, to the Vale, where he and every small boy who couldn't defend himself came from and went on countless horrible journeys and throughout all the adversity they faced they still came out on top much like the hobbits who lived further south and also always seemed to overcome adversity in the face the ultimate evil and it made Bran feel like he was a rip of something else but he wasn't sure what.

Anyway Bran looked over his shoulder and saw the horrible flying dragons circling towards him. Oh if only the Coldhands were here now to save me, he thought, but then he thought again, No Bran, you're on your own. He took a step forward. In the back of his mind an Indian named Two Bears and Six Women told him "for a young pup to run he has to first learn to walk." That made a lot of sense to Bran because horrible Indian clichés always said deep things that made a lot of sense if you really thought about them so he took another step. One of the Others jumped in his path, a horrible monster of tentacles and fur and smashed up snouts and right behind it came the sure sword of Arthur Dayne. "Run Bran," he told the boy and that was the last thing he remembered before something hit him in the back of the head and everything went black.

And then Bran overcomes adversity, learns to walk, finds a pair of magical stones and a sword that reveals truth and then he wins and then he goes home and reads the Hobbit and then the LOTR so he can leaves instructions on what his other little relatives from Culhaven need to do when the ultimate evil threatens the realm.

Author: Simon of Steele

A Song of Ice and Fire by Terry Pratchett:

"My Lord," the fat guard said, coming up beside Jon atop the Wall where Jon stood, looking out at the Haunted Forest, "His Grace would like see you in the Great Hall."

"His Grace," said Jon, thinking, "I am not too sure about that name."

"Er, pardon, my Lord?"

"His Grace. Just yesterday I was walking across the courtyard when I saw Stannis Baratheon slip on a puddle of ice. Hardly graceful behavior is it?"

"I suppose not, my Lord."

"It might even be considered clumsy."

"Most probab."

"So where would His Clumsiness like to see me?"

The guard looked pleased at a question he could answer confidently. "The Great Hall, my Lord."

"Great hall?" asked Jon, "What's that?"

The guard's face frowned, reminding Jon of the way a ball is dented when kicked. "The hall where the garrison eats, my Lord."

"Oh, you mean the Common Room."

"Er, yes, my."

"It is no hall, most definitely. I've been in many halls in my time and that
is most definitely a Room."

"Um."

"And I would not say it was great."

"Well."

"Has this Common Room made any significant achievements?" Jon pressed. "Has the Common Room proved itself in combat, rescued any maidens, gained any qualifications in Business Management?" Jon eyed the fat guard and saw his jaw begin to quiver.

"No, but, but, it is where we eat my Lord.

Jon gave it some thought. "Eating is necessary," he murmured to himself. He looked up at the guard.

"Then perhaps we should rename it the Not Great but Necessary Common Room." he said at last.

"Uh."

"If you are referring to great in the other sense of size, then again I would have to disagree. Compared to other rooms I have seen it is not all that big, and even compared to other Common Rooms is not worth note. Sam took measurements the other day and actually declared it quite small."

The guard frowned again, his mouth working silently. "The Quite Small Not Great But Necessary Common Room?" he ventured.

"Yes," Jon said, nodding, "yes, that would be more accurate."

Silence. The guard shifted uneasily.

More silence. The guard again shifted, making Jon wonder absently if the fat man was having trouble supporting his huge wait on his feet.

"So." the guard said at last.

"So... what?" Jon asked, looking up.

"Can you come to The Quite Small Not Great But Necessary Common Room to see His Clumsiness?"

"What? Oh, no, I'm busy. You should have asked sooner."

Author: Varys the Spider

A Song of Ice and Fire by Terry Goodkind:

Tyrion had never seen anyone so beautiful in his life. He had just met her but he already felt that he loved her more than anything. He couldn't do anything without her. If she died, he would soon follow after.

*100 pages of the same paragraph over and over, with some lovemaking in
between.*

Tyrion knew that he loved her with all his heart and could never live without her, but right now he had the problem of that 109823409823092 million wights and Others coming at him. He figured that with that many enemies at hand he was as good as dead, but at least he sent the love of his life away. Did he mention that he couldn't live without her and loved her more than anything in the world?

As the army of undead approached, Tyrion decided he could do with a quick raping. Even though he loved the other girl with all his heart and would die without her, what would this chapter be without a gritty rape scene?

After he bagged the wench he remembered that there was an army of 109238927309823409 bazillion wights and Others coming straight at him. The first one reached him and beat the living crap out of him. Tyrion had never felt pain like this before. Then, all of the sudden, he remembered. Out of nowhere he pulled out his trusty nuclear bomb spell and killed the entire 2098230498230928304928304982039 triple gazillion wights, Others, Freys, mercenaries, dog-faced gremlins, and chia pets that were threatening his world and the girl that he couldn't live without because he loved her so much. Did he mention how much he loved her yet? And that he just bear the thought of living without her?

Now that the enemy was defeated, and Tyrion had barely broken a sweat, he decided it was time to go have more sex.

The end.

Author: Father Rahl

And now - Alfred Bester...

The Demolished Dragon

Jaime Lannister's eyes flashed defiant on his savage face, a beast of prey in the shape of a man. His hand gripped Rorge's throat. "Tell me who made the order! And what are these Dragons I keep hearing about...?"

Rorge squirmed uncomfortable. "Don't know man, no. Keep me in the dark. I just do job, see..."

Jaime snarled. "Damn you, you must know something..."

Rorge whimpered. "Hoat, man, Hoat. He do it, it him!"

Jaime shook his head. "No. Hoat's dead, and anyway he lacked the guts for that kind of work. This order had a purpose..."

Rorge winced, the strain visible. "Don't know man, don't know..." Suddenly, his head jerked back like a puppet on a string. There was a sickening crack, and then he was dead.

Jaime's eyes darted around, wary. "Who's there? Answer me!"

An almost bodiless voice came back to him. Merely an interested party, Ser Lannister. Do go on with your work.

Jaime ran towards where the voice seemed to come from. "Damn it, do you think I don't know what you are? I've felt you before..."

Yes, you have. In Harrenhal. And then again in King's Landing. But don't let that fact cloud your judgement...

Jaime stopped and screamed. "It was you wasn't it? You're the one who had them maim me!"

There was a sort of rustling that might have served as a chuckle. Very astute, Ser Lannister. But also incomplete...

"What are you saying?" Jaime snarled, looking desperately for an opponent he could fight.

The clever man never reveals all his tricks. You should know that. The voice paused. Though as you've no doubt realized, it involves dragons...

Jaime realized quickly that the presence was now gone. Choking back a cry of rage he began to move again. So his enemy wanted to play games? Well, let him. His agony had remade him into something more powerful than before, and he had sworn that he would have his revenge.

Jaime walked ahead, not knowing where he would have to go, and not caring.

Far away, Bran opened his eyes. "He does not suspect. He has only the merest inklings of what we intend..."

Tyrion glanced at him, worried. "This is a dangerous move, I'd say. Jaime Lannister is far too unwieldy to be used so lightly."

Bran smirked at him, a cynical expression on his face. "Are you sure you're not letting personal feelings cloud your judgement, Tyrion?"

Tyrion shrugged. "He is my brother, but that's not what worries me. Jaime is all temper, no discipline..."

Dany nodded. "I agree. We've spent too much time on the Dragons to risk this. If this goes wrong - then we have nothing left..."

Bran shook his head. "We have no choice. Jaime is what is needed to unlock the Dragon's powers. He is an unstable tool, yes, but an unstable tool is what's needed for this job." Bran leaned back in his chair. "Besides, I've included a safety." He shut his eyes. "Arya...?"

Yes, brother.

"Is he still in your sights..."

Say the word and he is dead...

Bran nodded. "Very good sister. That is all." He opened his eyes, and regarded his fellows amusedly. "It takes an animal to kill an animal, does it not?" His expression straightened. "This may have begun with vengeance, but it's moved beyond that. Jaime is the trigger." A cold smile crossed his face. "And we hold the gun..."

In the distance, a wolf howled.

Author: Rhialto the Marvellous

And now - if Jack Vance had written a Game of Thrones...

"I confess that my feelings towards Jaime are perhaps, more ardent than are the norm" stated Cersei, "but this hardly something I feel any great shame about."

Ned shrugged. "It is jejune to suggest you might. However, getting caught is, I'd say, something worth being a bit abashed about. In my humble opinion of course."

Cersei laughed. "As for that, it is only your word against mine--and I can easily make that a matter of my word only."

Ned nodded. "Indeed." He paced awhile on the veranda, and glanced at the flickering sky. "You know it is wrong for us to fight in this manner. Winter may come at any second, and the whole world would be plunged into cold and ice..."

Cersei smiled luxuriously. "Why Eddard Stark, are you giving up thi--?" she began only to have the statement terminated by Ned striking a quick blow to her legs, causing her to make a most undignified landing.

Ned glanced at her amusedly, as he pulled a crossbow out of his jacket. "I believe I have thought of a pertinent reason for us to fight however, and so have decided to see this through to a successful conclusion."

Cersei stared at him with utter disbelief. "But you are a man of honour..."

"True, but I am not a stupid man of honour, nor do I wish to be a dead one for some time now..."

Author: Rhialto the Marvellous

Robin Hobb

Silently, I quested towards the wolf. A flicker of Ghost's consciousness brushed my own, as he dreamed of stalking a large burly boar. Gently, I removed my presence, and left him to his content slumber.

It had been a particularly bad attack. Several men were wounded, and others falling from the Wall. I tired to concentrate, but the hunger kept pulling at me. This pain had not troubled me for many months, but it came to reclaim me with thoughts of Ygritte.

She was better off without me, with Sam. I could never have given myself whole to her. I loved Ygritte, but my loyalty was first to my king. With great effort and elfbark, I forced these memories from my mind, accepting the great despair and depression that I knew would result.

There would be no welcome, no fanfare for me. But I had my wolf, and that was all I needed.

Author: Ace Atheist