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Showing posts with label novella. Show all posts
Showing posts with label novella. Show all posts
Tuesday, August 4, 2026
Monday, August 3, 2026
Wednesday, November 19, 2025
Christmas in the back of beyond
The dude in the mirror is trying to kill her!
Ivy moves into an overgrown cottage in the back of beyond two
days before Christmas. She soon discovers that the old place keeps old secrets.
The mirror above her mantlepiece is not what it seems. Ash and oil footsteps
appear from nowhere, as does writing on a wall.
Is her refuge haunted? Ha, well, she’ll decorate the bejeezus
out of it, overwhelm whatever it is with pretty baubles and blinking lights. Not
everyone loves Christmas as much as she does, after all.
A good plan indeed … until Gabriel introduces himself.
Old houses certainly do keep old secrets.
Sunday, July 21, 2024
Sunday, July 14, 2024
Wednesday, June 26, 2024
Sunday, May 19, 2024
Excerpt: The Orphan - Rose scented shampoo
HE RETURNED AFTER hours of waiting. Her nerves
screamed at her to go after him, help him, he may be in trouble, but just as
she was about to abandon the dry hollow where she hid, he appeared.
Sunflower hit him in the
shoulder. “Don’t do that again,” she snarled.
He merely laughed … and held out
a holdall.
Eyes narrowed, she snatched it,
opened it. Oh. Fresh clothes. Toiletries, including pads.
“We can wash in the pond we saw a
way back.” Adin watched her rummage, clearly enjoying her reactions. “But first
…”
She accepted the brown bag he
shook with wiggling eyebrows. Food. Proper stuff-it-in food. Sunflower sat flat
on the stony ground, and stuffed her face. Although cold, it was delicious.
Fries, deep fried fish, pork sausages, savoury tarts, and a yummy chilli dip.
“How?” she asked around filled
cheeks.
“Raided the clothes recycle bin
to look presentable enough, washed up in a toilet in back of the local gas
station, and then went shopping. Got some funny looks for the girl stuff, but
so what?” He peered at her. “Charged my phone at the diner.”
Sunflower stared at him. “You
went online?”
“That’s what took so long, yes.”
“And?”
“Your father put out a fresh
appeal for you on your birthday, but I didn’t find anything else about you.”
Sucking the last of the sauce
from her fingers, she prompted, “Fred?” She still called him Fred, easier to
deal with him, as if he were no more than a character in a play.
“Dug some into Paul Paterson’s
life. Seems he vanished around the time you did, so it’s definitely him. Folks
have the kind of money to put him in that fancy school, but he was the fifth
son, won’t inherit much. The bulk of the estate goes to the oldest.”
“Explains why he took me for
ransom.”
“His folks have a reward out.
They’re looking, as your folks are looking.”
“But he can’t go home, not until
I’m dead.”
Adin nodded.
Sunflower rose to gather the
remains of her meal. “Let’s get to that pond.” As they walked on after
shouldering their gear old and new, she asked, “What are you not telling me?”
“He broke out from an
institution. Committed for some mental disorder. His parents want him found
because they say he is a danger to society.”
Closing her eyes briefly, she
walked on. It explained his odd behaviour. How he taunted her. How he watched
her. Yet, to be truthful, he did not actually hurt her. In some ways he, in
fact, cared for her. Monthly feminine products. New clothes. Books, including
the cookery kind. Sleeping tablets. Cough mixture when she had a chest issue.
It didn’t make sense.
She said as much.
“There’s such a thing as mental
torture,” Adin murmured.
And wasn’t that the truth?
They reached the pond, and as the
first rays of sunshine peered over the towering mountains, Sunflower forewent
everything else to become as clean as she could be, revelling in the rose
scented shampoo Adin had bought for her.
Ever would the smell of roses
bring him to mind.
An orphaned boy searches for a lost girl.
A woman abandons her new-born at a motel in the back of
beyond. Adin grows up unloved, bullied, and no one remembers him. He doesn’t
exist.
Until he sees a poster for a missing girl on a lamppost.
There is an instant connection to little Sunflower, kidnapped for ransom, only
to disappear after the money is paid. He exists because he must find her.
Alone, he searches, a journey that takes him into the wild places, meeting
along the way some interesting characters.
In dreams he speaks to her, for she is the one who will
remember him.
Wednesday, March 6, 2024
Sunday, March 3, 2024
Excerpt: The Orphan - Nowhere
HE BOUND HER, gagged
and blindfolded her, put her in the back of a truck or van – she felt ridges
under her and surmised it was more of a pickup – and then drove without
stopping for many hours.
When they finally stopped, he
dragged her by her foot to the edge, and snapped something cold and hard around
her ankle.
“It’s a GPS tracking device. Run,
and I can find you anywhere at any time. Nod if you understand.”
Sunflower nodded.
“If you attempt to remove it, it
will trigger an explosive chip inside and you will lose most of your leg. Nod
if you understand.”
Swallowing, she did just that.
“An alarm will sound if you are
more than a hundred yards from my receiver. You will have ten seconds to return
to range. If you don’t, the explosives will trip. Nod if you understand.”
With tears seeping from under her
blindfold, Sunflower nodded vigorously.
“If someone comes and you do not
hide immediately, I will set it off myself. Do I need to say it?”
No, he did not. She nodded.
He lifted her to her feet,
removed her bindings, ungagged her and shifted the blindfold down. He gave a
strange smile and waved a hand. “You are free to move around within those
constraints.”
First, she stared at her ankle. An
ugly metal band sat there; a tiny red light glowed steadily. She believed him.
It could do all he said. Escape was virtually impossible. Then she looked up to
their surroundings.
A stone cottage squatted in the
middle of absolutely nowhere, in a field of grass with nothing but a lone tree
next to it to break the severity of isolation. There were no other homes in
sight, not even a stable or pen or corral. The middle of nowhere. There was nowhere to run to, had she the ability to do so.
There was nowhere to hide. No one would hear her scream.
Sunflower inhaled the fresh air.
Nowhere was by far better than a
dank room in the dark.
An orphaned boy searches for a lost girl.
A woman abandons her new-born at a motel in the back of
beyond. Adin grows up unloved, bullied, and no one remembers him. He doesn’t
exist.
Until he sees a poster for a missing girl on a lamppost.
There is an instant connection to little Sunflower, kidnapped for ransom, only
to disappear after the money is paid. He exists because he must find her.
Alone, he searches, a journey that takes him into the wild places, meeting
along the way some interesting characters.
In dreams he speaks to her, for she is the one who will
remember him.
Wednesday, January 17, 2024
Realm of Forgotten Things WIP
So, this is interim cover (or maybe I like it enough to keep it!) for a new novella I'm starting. A crazy place where literally ANYTHING is possible, so stay tuned for tongue-in-cheek humour alongside some serious action! I will be writing it when time allows (am editing for Redwing Productions at the moment and the second Seasons book is calling to me …) 😊
Monday, January 8, 2024
Orphan Excerpt: Adin in the North
In wild places, no one is ever truly lost.
ADIN
SPRING ARRIVED PAINSTAKINGLY slowly, but when it was in full swing, the glory left Adin breathless.
Harry Wilson, reading in his young companion an affinity for the natural order, made a suggestion. He needed to see his brother, he claimed, his brother having been the subject of his winter dreaming, often to leave him as speechless and unmoving as the first time it happened with Adin present. He would be away some time and would appreciate it if Adin would stay in the cottage and look after things for him. Just until he returned. Then Adin was a free agent once more, but was welcome to remain as long as he wished.
No hurry, he said. “Will leave only after the spring melt. Roads too dangerous right now.”
He then watched Adin think. He saw the lad study the trees, the surroundings, and smell the air. As spring gradually gave way to the beginnings of summer, Harry knew the boy had fallen as hard for the wild spaces as he had as a much younger man. He knew what the answer would be long before Adin himself knew it with certainty.
“I’ll stay.”
“Good lad.” Harry gripped his shoulder. “Will make sure you have all you need before I go. Unless you wish to come into town with me, spy out the lay of the land there for yourself?”
“If they know I’m alone here, I won’t be here long.”
“Yeah, the do-gooders will want to save your sorry ass,” Harry chortled.
THUS IT WAS that Adin spent the summer alone and unfettered in the wild northern spaces. The beginnings of manhood to come settled into broadening shoulders and developing arm and leg muscles, growing height, as he traipsed the spaces endlessly, discovering new sights with every step.
Harry was right. One found oneself out there.
While he unleashed his physical self during the day, at night his spirit delved nocturnal spaces. His dreams intensified.
At first, while Harry was still around offering insight, his dreams didn’t change much, except for colour. The images were more vivid, and he remembered more detail upon waking. Now, with no one watching, he soared into the unknown.
His wandering became about more than simply seeking Sunflower. In fact, it became about more than mere ‘wandering’. Adin sought to know the realm of the spirit, and therefore flew into spaces both awe-inspiring and terribly dark. By his reasoning, the more he knew, the better equipped he was to aid Sunflower.
On the day he and Sunflower turned fourteen, he finally spoke to her.
An orphaned boy searches for a lost girl.
A woman abandons her new-born at a motel in the back of
beyond. Adin grows up unloved, bullied, and no one remembers him. He doesn’t
exist.
Until he sees a poster for a missing girl on a lamppost.
There is an instant connection to little Sunflower, kidnapped for ransom, only
to disappear after the money is paid. He exists because he must find her.
Alone, he searches, a journey that takes him into the wild places, meeting
along the way some interesting characters.
In dreams he speaks to her, for she is the one who will
remember him.
Tuesday, December 26, 2023
Monday, November 27, 2023
Sunday, November 26, 2023
When winter catches you - Orphan Excerpt
Chapter 11
Lost in the woods is found amid trees.
ADIN
ADIN WALKED INTO winter.
At the home, when winter came,
the boys were soon ill. No one supplied them with extra blankets or warm coats,
never mind heating in their rooms. In his long years there, seven boys died of
lung diseases, and he also shuddered through the unbearable cold, coughing and
sniffling.
Now he was prepared.
Iris showed him how to use her
bank card and therefore he knew what to do to have cash in hand, but a child
drawing a large sum alone would appear suspicious … or be an easy target. He
might technically be a teenager, but he was small for his age, and did not have
the strength to fight off bullies and thieves.
Choosing ATMs inside shopping
malls worked well. Not only was he amid many and less likely to suffer a
beating, but he was able to pretend he was drawing money for his mother. That
was his story, if asked, but only once did an older woman enquire if he needed
help, standing behind him with her own card ready. He smiled at her and told
her his mother had shown him what to do.
He drew the maximum daily allowance
each time, and then made the cash stretch. Less of a trail, not that anyone had
cause to be looking for him.
He headed north, and as the
weather worsened, he bought proper gear, a little here, a little there, never
spending too much in one place. Each time he entered a store, it was with his
needs in mind, and he’d head directly to what it was he sought, select the
item, pay and leave. No window shopping. No indecision. Once a young girl at
the till asked him where his parents were, him shopping for himself, and he
said his father sent him to pay while he went into the store next door.
Every move he made ensured he was
forgotten the moment he walked away.
He walked for the most part,
tramping the minor roads. Sometimes he got a lift, usually from women who
stopped and asked why he was alone out there. The story that worked best was an
argument with friends while on an outing, and he left the fight, choosing to
walk rather than wait for his lift. Generally, those rides took him into the
next town or occasionally a bus station.
A few times he caught a bus, but found
that worked best on weekends. On school days the old folks were too nosy. He
took the train, too, but after a conductor said to stay put, he’d contact the
cops to help him with adult supervision, he stayed away from trains.
Mostly, it was safer to walk.
He avoided cities at all costs.
Too young to secure accommodation
in motels or hotels, he opted for the outdoors. One of the first items he
bought, after sturdy hiking boots and thick socks, was a tent and then a
sleeping bag, one with a built-in pillow. More and more the outdoors felt like
true home. He could not understand why folk chose to live in cities. Swiftly he
had camping in remote areas down to expert level. He was a survivor, after all.
Prepared as he believed himself
to be, winter caught him off guard.
ADIN UNZIPPED THE
tent flap, shivering. Whiteness greeted him. The snowfalls he’d heard talk of
in the nearby town had arrived.
Two days back he overheard a
conversation about frequent blizzards in the region, and how snow piled many
feet thick. Staring out over a landscape featureless, where yesterday had been
trails and boulders, he understood he was in trouble. Not in this particular
moment, no – he’d simply pack up and tramp back to town before conditions
worsened – but long term. If this forerunner stymied him, shuddered him head to
toe with the onset of what had to be minor cold, he could only imagine what a
blizzard would do.
Time then to make new plans, the
kind to see him through winter without calling attention to himself. Not once
did he consider turning around and heading south in search of milder weather. Something
summoned him north, and he chose to follow that inner directive. Or someone.
Sunflower summoned him.
She was in his dreams every
night, her amber eyes pleading with him to watch over her. He would do more
than watch over her in dreams; he would find her in real life.
Sunflower was somewhere in the
north.
Therefore, Adin would bear
winter, survive it, and continue his search with spring.
Sunday, November 5, 2023
Blacktop in a Red Wood
MORNING LIGHT FILTERED through the canopy and birds sang greeting.
Ben stretched after
uncurling from his hollow in the damp soil along the verge. Body heat had made
the indentation for him. He hadn’t dared the wood behind. He doubted there were
predators, but rather safe than not.
Wisps of mist floated
like white ethereal arms about the tree trunks. It was so silent he felt
entirely alone. But for wildlife, no one else lived in this world. Except a
woman in a cottage not far away. North, a few miles.
He turned to gaze in
that direction. A hollow feeling erupted in his stomach, and it had nothing to
do with hunger.
Slinging his rucksack
over one shoulder, he started walking.
There was no sign a car
had ever passed here during the night.
Alayna lives as a recluse in the giant redwood forest far from
prying eyes. When intruders break into her home with the intention of robbing
and using her, a man with vivid green eyes becomes an unlikely saviour. The
instant they see each other their fates are sealed. Ben and Alayna have the
kind of attraction that reeks of a celestial mandate.
Sunday, October 29, 2023
Excerpt: Orphan - Who is Iris Hill?
IRIS HILL STEPPED
on the pedal, pumping it. It took a while for the car to respond, but
eventually the green city commuter lurched forward. She hated it, but funds no
longer permitted an upgrade. This was her transport now, had been for fifteen
years … not that she even recalled the years already gone by between buying
this at an auction and her current position. Sometime after year two alone, her
memory started playing tricks on her. What was, was no longer part of her
reality. It wasn’t illness of a kind with a fancy medical name –as folk
whispered to each other in the butchery the other day – it was deliberate. Iris
did not want to remember her past and therefore she locked everything away,
even the moments spent on a lot bidding for a five-year-old baby sedan.
The car swivelled, losing
traction on the gravel.
Swearing, she stomped on the
pedal again, the other one, the one that brought the vehicle to a halt, but
missed it and lunged ahead instead.
A young boy flashed into view,
and Iris screamed, seeing him grow alarmingly larger in her sights. Huge blue
eyes swung her way, as panicked.
She stomped and stomped, and screamed.
ADIN HURTLED SIDEWAYS
into the brush, suffering slashing from sharp branches, and bruising his knees
as he landed on rough stone. A green swirl filled his vision, causing him to
cover his face. A strangely dulled scream filled the surrounds, eclipsing all
birdsong, even the pounding of his heart.
The world stilled.
All sound vanished, and life fell
into breathlessness.
A car door slammed extra loudly,
jerking him back to life.
“Boy! Where are you? Are you
okay?”
The woman’s voice was deep. He
expected it to be shrill, but that was probably perception based on the sound
of screaming. Where had she come from? He could swear her tyres made no sound
on the gravel road as she approached. Maybe he had been careless in his
attention, rapt in the sight of so much nature.
He crawled from scratching twigs,
searching for her. She had been as terrified as he was. There was a chance she
needed him to be as fine as he needed her to be on her way and leave him alone.
She wouldn’t do that until she saw him.
The old and dinged thing she
drove listed to one side, hanging into the ditch on the opposite side of the
road. He noticed the ditch when he chose this backwater rural lane, and opted
to walk on the incline side, where trees grew, and grass. Lots of grass, and
wildflowers. He liked grass. Grass was far easier to sleep on than a concrete
step in a city.
Another swirl entered his field
of vision, this one greyed out black rather than dusty green. A swish of too
much material became a dress. Adin stared at her dress. She was like a witch
from the tales with her long robe billowing out in the breeze.
He shuddered, wondering if she
wanted to eat him.
Pointed red shoes appeared under
the rim of her mighty dress affair, causing him to smile. That wasn’t a sign of
evil; that was a sign of cheekiness.
Adin looked up … into the kindest
green and brown flecked eyes he had ever seen. It wasn’t her eye colour that
got him, for he had seen eyes of every colour in his short life, it was her
kindness. She exuded it. Stranger still, he knew it as kindness.
“I’m okay,” he said, but his
words emerged croaked and broken.
Arms akimbo, she studied him. Her
hair was dark, far darker than her dress, and all she needed was a pointy hat,
and she would be a witch. Freckles
covered her face, though, and he couldn’t make out wrinkles. Maybe not so much
a witch, then. Maybe she liked to play dress-up.
“No, you’re not fine. We need to
see to all those scratches and your poor knees. And I think you’re hungry and
thirsty.”
Yes, he was, but he wasn’t going
anywhere with anyone.
He drew himself up. “I’m fine.”
“What’s your name?”
“What’s yours?”
Grinning, she said, “Iris Hill. I
live up there.” She pointed to a space above his head.
He craned around, but couldn’t
see anything other than trees guarding the road. When he faced here again, she
had one eyebrow raised.
“Adin,” he muttered.
“Adin who?”
“Don’t know.”
“Ah.”
In that ‘ah’ was a world of
understanding, as if she knew exactly what he meant, as if she had once walked
the same path in life as he now did. He stared at her.
She glanced at his knees weeping
thin trails of blood. “Adin Stone, is that your name?”
Nodding vigorously, he swallowed.
She did understand.
“Well, Adin Stone, we gave each
other a fright. I need help getting my car back on the road and you need help
with your injuries. Shall we make a deal? I help you first and then you help
me? Tomorrow you can be on your way again, but I’d welcome the company at
dinner tonight, if that’s okay with you.”
This time he nodded slowly.
Man, she read him too well.
An orphaned boy searches for a lost girl.
A woman abandons her new-born at a motel in the back of
beyond. Adin grows up unloved, bullied, and no one remembers him. He doesn’t
exist.
Until he sees a poster for a missing girl on a lamppost.
There is an instant connection to little Sunflower, kidnapped for ransom, only
to disappear after the money is paid. He exists because he must find her.
Alone, he searches, a journey that takes him into the wild places, meeting
along the way some interesting characters.
In dreams he speaks to her, for she is the one who will
remember him.
Sunday, August 20, 2023
Chapter 10: The Orphan
An orphaned boy searches for a lost girl.
A woman abandons her new-born at a motel in the back of
beyond. Adin grows up unloved, bullied, and no one remembers him. He doesn’t
exist.
Until he sees a poster for a missing girl on a lamppost.
There is an instant connection to little Sunflower, kidnapped for ransom, only
to disappear after the money is paid. He exists because he must find her.
Alone, he searches, a journey that takes him into the wild places, meeting
along the way some interesting characters.
In dreams he speaks to her, for she is the one who will
remember him.
Chapter 10
Your face is also your fingerprint.
SUNFLOWER
SHE SAW FRED’S face.
When it happened, she realised he
would never let her go. He would soon kill her. He needed her alive for the
photos he took of her with the day’s newspaper, but once her father paid, he
would kill her.
She had seen his face.
Fred surprised her. In fact, he
freaked her out completely. There was nothing normal about him, just as there
was nothing normal about her. His type of strange came from a different planet,
though. He did not act or react as a child expected. She doubted adults could
deal with him either.
Late one evening – she knew it
was evening when a bar of light appeared under the door, for he switched the
lights on for the night – he unlocked her prison and beckoned her out.
The action was familiar to her.
Either it meant he needed another photo, or he was allowing her to go to the
toilet. He allowed the latter only once a day, and sometimes it was morning and
sometimes it was night. Sometimes she had to hold for untold hours between, but
never did she surrender and wee on the stinking floor.
He looked odd this night. Not
quite the Fred who now no longer wore the balaclava over his face in her
presence. Unfortunately, she finished in the toilet one time before he was
ready, despite having stolen time to splash water on her face and wash her
hands, and exited the cubicle to see the balaclava rolled up, revealing his features.
She had thought him old, like her father, but he was more like her friend
Tara’s older brother, when she attended his twenty-first birthday party. Fred
was too young to have a daughter, and she had believed him that day in the park.
How naïve she really was, of the real world.
Tonight, his brown eyes seemed
like living orbs. As if two worlds moved there in his face. Usually he showed
no emotion; he just beckoned her to duty with dead eyes. His kind of strange
was all about no expression. His hair was a funny reddish-brown, worn slicked
back, which she thought might be because he always wore the balaclava rolled up
as a cap, ever ready to pull it down when his face needed hiding. Tonight, his
hair stood on end. In fact, as he waved a hand at her to come, the other messed
his hair even more. Obviously, he’d been running hands through his hair.
It was strange behaviour.
Fred was excited about something.
Had her father paid the ransom?
Her heart became a lump of ice in
her tightening chest. Fred was about to kill her. That was the reason for his
excitement.
He preceded her down the short
dark passage, knowing she would follow. Sunflower once went the other way,
seeking escape, and discovered only a blank wall. Besides her cell-room, there
was nowhere to go. Her heart started beating again, loud thumps she was certain
would soon jerk her up and down in the violence of its movement.
Where this was, she had no idea.
Her room had no window, the passage was lightless, and this space, where he
forced her to pose with a newspaper, was boarded up. There were two windows,
but dirty slats had been nailed over them, tight, allowing no light or sight
through. A naked bulb overhead highlighted the nastiness. The narrow toilet cubicle
to the left did possess a small window and that one allowed light in – when she
visited it in the day – but was constructed of glass that allowed no view. It
was rusted in place; she had attempted to pry it open, if not for escape, then
at least for knowledge of her whereabouts. Well, escape had been first on her
mind, but the sight of a tree or a building might help, too.
No sounds other than Fred’s grunts, footsteps and occasional words now formed part of her life. She had not yet heard the whisper of a bird in song, or a tyre crunching over gravel or swishing in rubbery silence on tar. Whether she was in the country or hidden somewhere in the city, she could not know. Not knowing meant she was as lost inside as she was to the outside.
The only other sounds she
experienced emphasised the state of her existence. The slap of a tin plate on
the floor – deposited once in the morning and once in the evening, and she knew
it as morning and evening by the food on it – and the scrape of it being collected
again. The click of the camera on Fred’s phone. The rustle of the newspaper.
Her ablution noises, and the flush of the toilet.
And her sobs, but those were
silent. He was not to know of her pain, although it was true that her
hopelessness sounded loud in her own mind.
In her dreams, when she managed
to sleep, blue eyes watched over her. Once she watched a documentary with her
father about New Zealand, and said how lovely the blue rivers were, and her
father said the melting snow caused that kind of blue.
Snow-melt eyes.
Because he saw her, she lived.
And while he looked, she could endure. It was a boy, she just knew it, but also
wondered if even her sleeping mind played tricks on her. Maybe she needed a
protector so much, she made him up.
Fred motioned her to the plastic
chair she usually sat in, and then dragged another closer. This, too, was
unusual behaviour. She had seen the other chair between the two boarded windows,
but he had never bothered to use it before today.
He sat in it, facing her. Staring
at her. With dancing, gleeful eyes.
Sunflower swallowed. “My father
paid,” she whispered.
A massive grin split his face. He
laughed then, and slapped his thighs. “He paid!”
“What now?”
He lifted a finger into the dank
air. “Now it is time for decisions.”
“Yours?’ she dared.
“Yours!” He chortled and slapped
his thighs again.
She did not dare ask what that
meant, but he told her without her having to prompt him. His excitement could
not long contain his ability to create suspense for her. He wanted to share,
because she was the only one he could
share it with.
“I now have enough money to
disappear, little flower, and you will need to deep disappear also. The
permanent kind, because you had to look, didn’t you? But you have a choice. You
have made me rich, so I’m giving you a choice.”
She did not trust that, but
anything was better than a knife across her throat. He wouldn’t use a bullet,
no; too loud. And she had a suspicion he’d prefer the thrill of her blood over
his hands, rather than a clinical kill.
“Choice?” she whispered.
“See that door there?”
Fred pointed at a door to the
right, one she thought led either to a kitchen or maybe a hallway that led to
outside. It was locked. She’d seen him lock and unlock it with a bunch of keys
he kept in his pocket.
She nodded, staring at him, her
heart alternately beating hot and cold, sending heat and then ice to shiver
over her skin.
“There’s a hole beyond it, real
deep. Either I throw you into it and walk away, for none will find your body
for months, maybe years, or …” He stopped there, leering at her.
“Or?” she shuddered.
“You come with me, and we
disappear together.”
Would he beat her if she went
with him? Or have sex with her? Would he throw her into another cell somewhere?
Maybe he’d kill her in another place. Maybe he liked the idea of her scared,
putting off her murder until she could barely talk for fear.
But maybe she’d escape from
somewhere new. Even if he beat her. Even if he raped her.
“You have ten seconds to make
your mind up, little flower.”
“I’ll go with you,” she stated.
Wednesday, August 9, 2023
Sunday, July 30, 2023
Chapter 10: Ethereal Musician
Alayna lives as a recluse in the giant redwood forest far from
prying eyes. When intruders break into her home with the intention of robbing
and using her, a man with vivid green eyes becomes an unlikely saviour. The
instant they see each other their fates are sealed. Ben and Alayna have the
kind of attraction that reeks of a celestial mandate.
Alayna feels it too, because Ben possesses a kiss able to break worlds. His green eyes are an ethereal magnificence amid the redwoods, lighting the way for love, music, dreams and destiny to mark their paths, but such a connection has a price.
Ten
A VIOLIN RESTED in its case on her desk.
Ben stopped dead when he
saw it.
His heart had thundered
during the night and his blood had raced. Every emotion hidden and unknown had
surfaced until flesh was soul and time was as ancient and unknowable as the cosmos.
She emptied him from the inside out and then she remade him.
That quickening was now
as nothing as to what assaulted every sense he possessed.
A violin.
Music.
In the filtered light of
this new day, he approached it as if it was a viper. Already his hand reached
to take possession. The contradiction between thought and action created
theories of chaos in his mind.
The desired object was
in his hands.
This was a work of art,
an instrument lovingly crafted.
An ache grew in his gut.
Alayna paid a lot of money
for this. Why?
“To hear you play,” she
whispered behind him.
He did not move. He
simply stared at what he held in his hands. The ache sought release.
“You know yourself now
…”
“Do I?” he croaked.
“You have a fair idea
and it will become clearer as you move forward.”
He swallowed. “So?” But
those answers were of less importance to the growing pressure within him.
“Knowing means leaving,
Ben. You returned to understand that … and to accept it. You must go forward,
never back.”
Her hands were on his
shoulders, warm through the thin shirt he’s shrugged on to stave off some of
the chill. He took great comfort from her touch, now. Every word she spoke was
only truth. This was finally relief.
“We have an ages
difference that won’t hold up in this society,” she murmured.
He turned then. “Ages?” he said, his gaze intent.
She did not blink. “Yes.
Ages.”
“How old are you?” The
words tore from him. Suspicion could now become fact.
Even now she wouldn’t
give him that. No lies, but not straightforward fact either. “Too old. Very
old. We are old souls both.”
She intended to leave
him with only his suspicions. She intended to keep to the rumor of what souls
were capable of.
He dug deeper. “How old
am I? I do not mean my soul.”
Alayna blinked. “That
would be the real question, wouldn’t it?”
And that answered it for
him.
Smiling then, he lifted
the violin to his shoulder, tucked it under his chin, sensing the knots unraveling
inside. Already notes floated into his blood.
“And you want to hear me
play before I hit the long road.”
Her sigh settled over
him like a warm blanket. “It will be your final gift to me.”
He lifted the bow. It
settled whisper soft onto the strings. Fingers found the right chords
automatically. This he knew; this was
his true self.
The first angelic note
soared, and every bird in the forest fell silent to listen.
Tears coursed freely
over Alayna’s cheeks.
Worlds far, far, away
knitted back together as the flows of energy flew along the musical curves of
creation itself.
It was her final gift to
him as well.
Sunday, July 23, 2023
Chapter 10: Ancient Illumination
Back when I started the Chapter 10 excerpts, I told you, once the Lore books were completed, I'd move to those of my books that are lengthy enough to have a chapter 10. This includes Ilfin of Arc, TINSAL, Ethereal Musician, Gabriel, Latticework, The Orphan, The Potter, and Ancient Illumination, which is today's excerpt. Enjoy!
Fire spews and ice follows. The world Drakonis is near death
and all life has fled. Except for Brennan, the thief who hears mysterious
directions to Castle Drakon on the wind, and brothers Bastian and Cole, who
choose to follow her. Then there’s Halley, an exotic dancer from the burning
cities, and Audri, who refuses to speak.
In a grotto under the ice they discover three others alive and before the warmth of a fire hear of a mighty legend. Unravelling its mysteries could lead to a way off a dying world. An ancient light will illuminate their path.
Chapter 10
Of
course we cannot determine night or day while asleep under an ice shelf, but
the time comes when we are all again aware.
This is our third day into the journey and we are
still four. Perhaps there is no parallel.
Our conundrum now is whether to go forward with the
tunnel, or go up. Audri’s marker stone does not react for either, thus both
directions are the right ones.
I suggest we go forward until we hit rock. At least
that will mark the end of ice. With alacrity the others agree, and we proceed
with the delving after having something to eat.
We hit rock within an hour. And thus we go up.
An absolute surprise awaits us when we break through
to the surface.
The sun is shining.
We
are like creatures caught in headlights.
We freeze in position and stare at the impossible
glare highlighting us.
“Down!” Bastian says, first to find his wits, and we
cower swiftly.
Still, that achieves little, for we are dark dots in a
white landscape of both ice and light.
Castle Drakon towers over us. Bathed in light.
It cannot be sunshine. It is therefore sorcery.
“Two can play this game,” Audri mutters, and begins to
murmur words under her breath. Strung together, they sound like chants.
There is no entry into the castle, according to
legend. It is sealed eternally. There are no doors visible on the outside,
according to Galint back in the grotto. And, it appears, these two keys I carry
with me have nothing to do with actual locks.
We have to get in. The only way to hide now is to
enter the monolith towering over us, and Audri has realised that.
She has control over the elements, she claims, but
other than snapping embers into flame in the grotto, we have not seen proof of
it. The first night in these highlands she said she dare not employ her gifts
for fire, for it would reveal us. Last night no doubt she thought it safer to
hold herself in check. She could have melted the ice, I suppose, but that would
have seen us dead in a heartbeat.
Is she able to manipulate rock?
I feel Bastian at my back and wish we lived in a
different time. I notice Cole sending us a look. He cannot be jealous, because
we were never that way inclined with each other, but it is a strange look. I
wonder what is going on in his mind. How far will he go to survive?
Then none of that matters.
An arch has appeared in the rock before us. The
bizarre light that emanates from Castle Drakon overhead picks out the planes of
a stairway within going up.
“It’s a real doorway,” Audri says in a hoarse voice,
as if strained beyond bearing, “made of solid rock. I can’t hold it at bay
long. Are we going in or not?”
Cole answers for us. He sets foot to the first step
beyond the arch. We follow. Audri brings up the rear, muttering once more,
probably closing the arch to hide our point of entry.
Darkness envelopes us, but I know I experience
elation. We are inside when everyone said there was no way to enter.
It smells of antiquity here and has the aroma of
rampant magic. What else is there to do but employ another light stone? This is
the second to last one, but we have to see to climb.
In the glow that results, Audri clutches at her throat
and falls to her knees. “Can’t … breathe …” She falls sideways, landing
awkwardly on the stairs … staring starkly up.
I gasp for air myself, but it isn’t a manipulation as
she has suffered; it is sorrow. Audri, pretty supportive friend, is dead.
Between one eye blink and the next.
Bastian slaps a hand over my mouth and shakes his head
emphatically at Cole. Do not make a sound,
his actions imply.
He stares up into the gloom beyond the stone’s light,
there where the stairs seems to level off. A moment later he holds up two
fingers. Clearly, two await our unwary entry into the halls of Castle Drakon
itself.
We stare at each other, then down at Audri, and then
upwards. We do not make a sound, but it is beyond clear that we have no choice.
We shall meet whatever awaits us with whatever means and courage we possess.
I kneel beside Audri, kiss her forehead, close her
eyes, and remove her marker stone. Bastian and Cole briefly each grip one of
her hands, and then we rise together and start climbing ancient timeworn steps
carved from rock.
When we reach the top, we discover a solid iron door.
Strange glyphs mark the surface, as if in warning. Bastian pushes at it, very
gently. I think we expect it not to budge at all, but it swings soundlessly
open. Now, if that was a warning etched into the metal, it is less than
effective.
Cole peers to the left and shakes his head at us.
Carefully he steps in and peers around the opened door to the right. He shrugs.
He sees no one.
Bastian drags him back, takes the lighted stone from
him and tosses it over his shoulder. He holds up two fingers again, nodding his
head emphatically.
Thus, we cannot see the watchers, but they are there
and they are waiting for us.
What to do now?
There is light beyond the door, enough to reveal a
stone wall opposite and a black floor. It’s dusty, and Bastian points to where
there is a clear footprint in the powder. It reveals a shiny substance
underneath, and it also reveals one of those waiting for us is huge.
Right. So what do
we do?
We stare at each other in consternation.
And then it comes to me. If Audri was right about
Wyvern blood returning during calamity in order to restart Drakonis as
civilisation, there is absolutely no way they will harm me. And, and I wince as
I think this, I have the last two with me bearing the Riginar blood. One of them
will be my mate, according to their thinking. They will not cause harm to come
to either, not until a babe is conceived.
I swallow.
It is a mighty risk.
When I look at Bastian, he winks at me. Clearly the
same thoughts have occurred to him. He spreads his hands, asking if we’re going
to chance it on a rumour from a temple legend.
What else is there to do?
We can’t stagnate at the top of ancient stairs because
fear holds us back. We will be dead in less than three days anyway.
I glance over my shoulder a final time, but Audri is
lost to view. Farewell, friend.
I grin then at Bastian … and step boldly into the
passage.
Cole hisses, he loves doing that, always has, but
Bastian pulls him along with him as he follows. Audri’s stone tells me to go
right. We do so, treading carefully in the dust, lest one of us slips. Bastian
gazes over his shoulder, only the once.
“Two behind us,” he mutters.
Then he whispers in Cole’s ear, no doubt telling him
what we figured out. Cole gives both of us a wide-eyed stare, and grins.
“Can you see them?” I ask, leading the way.
“Feel only,” Bastian responds. “But they’re big.”
Many silent minutes later we come to an arch without a
door. Beyond is a large space lit by flames in an ancient hearth. There are
multiple alcoves, but we cannot discern detail.
As we search the chamber from the arch, wondering
whether to enter or go on, there is a sense of pressure building behind us. All
three of us snap around to find shadows coalescing. The fabric of light and
dark appears to be taking on tangible presence and growing in size and intent
by the second. Suddenly this massed presence rushes at us, and we stumble in
our haste to escape it into the fire lit chamber.
Cole falls, Bastian flails, and I am shoved forward by
an unseen hand.
A door slams with an almighty crash. There was no door
in that arch, and now it has one and it has locked us into this space.
Cole hurtles at it and bounces back.
Right. We are trapped.
We are inside Castle Drakon and everyone knows we are
here.
Nothing
works now.
The heat stones are inactive. Cole attempts to burn
the door down with them, and the last light stone is no longer white. We hear a
crackling sound and find it reduced to a papery brown object.
Audri’s marker stone, when I check it, disintegrates
into blue sprinkles. We dare not open the pouch with the last black sustenance
stones, just in case the act of ignoring them ensures their continued
existence.
“I bet the key stones work, though,” Cole mutters, and
he is probably right. They are still needed. No one will interfere with those …
yet.
After investigating the shadowy alcoves, we understand
two things. One is that we are meant to stay here, for there is a bed awaiting
us, as there is food under metal domes upon a table, and two is that we are meant
to sleep together - there is only the one bed.
Bastian stares at it a long while before saying,
“Brennan, something will force this upon us if we don’t do so willingly.”
“You’re saying Audri had it right about the blood
thing?” Cole frowns.
I know Cole; he hates the thought of someone telling
him what to do.
Bastian nods and sits on the edge of the big bed. “Dad
told me every Riginar born is inducted into the temple, because we have special
genetics Drakonis requires. I forgot about all that until Audri started
speaking. While we haven’t needed to hide our last names as the Wyverns have
had to, we were all of us marked at birth and told to keep the mark ever
hidden.”
“I thought it was a birthing defect,” Cole says.
“It is at birth, but it is placed upon us, it isn’t a
natural mark. Why did I forget all this?” Bastian mutters.
“Life,” I say. “You had to survive after your dad died
and keep an eye on cat burglar Cole here. A mark on your skin is of little
consequence then.”
“True.” He meets my eyes. “I don’t like being forced.”
“And I don’t like having witnesses around,” I say.
The smile he bestows upon me then races my blood. “Are
we on the same page? We refuse to do as is expected?”
I want to kiss him and I’m sure it shows in my face,
for his eyelids flicker a bit. “Look, don’t touch, I say.”
He laughs under his breath. “Cole was right all those
years ago. He said then you would never turn your back on what is right.”
Cole laughs aloud. “I remember! Brennan brought me
home and you thought she was a bad influence, hauling your little brother about
on rooftops.”
“A burglar and purse snatcher isn’t actually on the
side of right, Bastian,” I murmur.
“Why did you do so?” he asks, his blue gaze bright.
I shrug. “To eat.” It was as simple as that, then.
“And had Cole not come home with ill-gotten gains, I
would have starved. It was necessity, Brennan, not right or wrong.”
“It was fun, too,” Cole laughs.
I grin his way. We had fun, yes, many days, many
nights. We also nearly lost our lives on many occasions. My smile vanishes as I
remember that.
Cole shrugs, perhaps thinking the same.
“Destroy the keys, Brennan,” Bastian suggests. “Any
choices we make now must be ours to make, not at the will of an old
manipulation.”
Someone is listening and watching, no doubt, and that
someone must have heard all that was said, including that final statement.
Someone would come soon to enforce his or her will.
I have moments only.
Nodding at Bastian, I swiftly remove the two
transparent stones from the pouch and hurtle across the space from bed to
fireplace, lifting my arm as I run. Skidding, I launch the two cold objects
directly into the blaze, and fall to my knees there … watching, hoping, waiting
…
A bright flash blinds us.
And then darkness takes us.
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