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Diana Dreams Darkly Chapter one ‘Darkly Dreaming’

Well, what can I say? here it is, at long last and honestly, part of me didn’t think I was ready, I had doubts, part of me still thinks I’m not ready and another part of me says my whole life, my whole writing career has been building to this moment. Not to peak but to create something not too hot, not too cold, but just right.

And I think I’ve done it, as far the first chapter goes anyway. Had a few bumps in the road dayjob/personal life wise but I think it’s coming together really nicely. I feel almost like its above me, like it’s not even me writing it. Its strange, like I feel as if I’m the reader and someone else is writing it. So it’s a lot of fun to write, it’s like I have a rough idea of whats coming next but it’s taking a shape of it’s own each time I put fingers to key and I really like the shape and the characters coming out of it so far.

I started it almost like a Dexter fanfic but reading Dexter again it’s grown into it’s own thing entirely, similar but distinct. It has a similar feel but she’s a different animal, the tone is slightly different, some things I feel I do better, some things worse. But whatever it is, it feels right, for the time being.

There it is, as always link below and a short excerpt about a quarter of the full chapter below. You can see the full unedited chapter in the hyperlink.

See you…

Darkly Dreaming

~

My highheels tap on the wet concrete like anxious teeth clacking together as I walk. I’m walking, it’s dark, I’m alone and I’m scared. But not for me, it’s a good kind of scared. A fear of coming waves of something unexplainable, something inevitable. I’ve felt it building for so long and now as I walk the street alone in the dark I can feel it like it’s all around me.

I’m swimming through it’s want, wading through it’s need. It calls to me, it’s hunger passed down through what feel like eons. An insatiable hunger. Teeth straining against teeth, I taste blood and it feels good.

I hear a splash and it’s my feet hitting a puddle, I can feel it, feel it watching, feel it waiting, it’s hunger growing.

The moon reflected in the puddle, it’s smile so wide and manic. Those white teeth, sharp and ready, it’s just right, I can feel it on my back, filling me with that white pure light. Filling every corner, carrying me like I was on strings. My steps feel weightless and without agency, like I’m being carried by a wave of lustful righteous anger.

I feel his eyes on me before I hear his silent voice.

I hear a fluttering of dark angel wings. A leathery tightening inside as it whispers and laughs and tells me to keep going. Keep walking, keep making those sounds, keep licking those lips. Telling me to be patient when I know that’s not a word it understands at all.

He calls to me and I’m out of it for a second.

A man, I can’t see his face reflected in the dark store window.

I see myself, dressed in my best impression of a hooker from a nineties cop movie. The fishnets might have been a little too on the nose but it seemed to have worked.

I caught a big fish after all.

Just the one I wanted.

He calls to me again but I can’t respond now. My tongue is somewhere far removed and words seem pointless frail things.

Walking on and folding my arms like I’m cold, when I feel nothing but cool clear clarity and vicious joy. Walking faster now, I see in the puddles and the car windows he’s following. Looking around and following, how far will he go?

The shadow inside shifts and wriggles like a kid in a bean bag chair. So excited, hissing and tossing, just where it wants to be, laughing and waiting, so close.

He calls to me, something crude in Spanish but I can’t react, not yet, a little further.

My heels clicking louder and faster, I’m almost running now and what do dogs do when you run?

They chase of course, and predictably he’s caught the scent of something he likes.

I know him, his name escapes me for some reason and his face seems familiar but unimportant right now. No eyes, no nose, no mouth, just a blank pale face not unlike the face of the moon. Maybe I’m giving him too much credit. Who’s hunting whom after all?

I can feel his need, I’ve watched him for awhile. A small petty monster, a dog chasing cars, not sure what he wants until he gets his hands on them. A bottom feeder, a wanton monster with no attempt to hide it, no need. How free he must feel, not like me at all.

Something inside me calls out to him but he can’t hear it, he’s just along for the ride after all.

I’m walking faster but I’m not out of breath, it’s cold night and I feel brisk and tight. A quick check in another car window and I see he’s still following. Good, almost there now. One more block, follow me little rat.

The thing inside shifts like an eel in a glass vial. Happy and tensing and releasing like a balled fist, electric with terse excitement. An unfolding falling feeling of impending release on the horizon.

He’s still following, muttering to himself, looking around, he puts his hood up, he’s commited now. The streets are dark and damp and desolate, that’s why he picked this place, that’s why I picked it too. A perfect playground for Diana the dark dabbler.

I turn the corner fast down the alley I marked, breaking line of sight.

He makes some sort of noise in his throat that somehow I can hear.

I’ve kicked off my heels already and tossed them in the open dumpster.

The sound they make is all I want for now, that dull ringing sound to send the rats circling. I duck behind the spot I prepared. A pile of cardboard boxes is all I need, I’m a slim girl. The smell sends shivers up my spine. Old shell fish, the smell of the ocean, the spray, maggots, refreshing, like smelling salts.

He rounds the corner fast and confused, like he’s the only kid that doesn’t get the magic act at the birthday party.

I feel my lips parting, a curious smile, my heart beating, can he hear it? Can he hear the wings beating, can he hear the moons teeth clacking, feel it’s beaming maniac smile? I hope so. He will.

He looks around, pulls his hood down angered. All those chemicals rushing, he was feeling it too, the chase, the thing inside of him feeding on my fear. Getting high off that night air, stumbling into my trap.

I take my cellphone out of my purse and I phone the number of the burner I put in the dumpster. It rings with mocking eight-bit mariachi band music. He hears it straight away taking offence at everything.

Something about it stirs up that voice, that love of conflict, that hot rage against the cold canvas of the night. Dancing in that ambivalent moonlight.

It carries me, gives me a light feeling, goosebumps, goosebumps. Teeth chattering but I’m not cold, not even close, I feel nothing but pure icey potential.

He pokes open the dumpster with the barrel of a glock and he looks inside, I wait until he reaches in for the phone, he does.

I slip out of my hiding spot, feeling lithe and ready in a sliver of moonlight. I’m invisible, invincible, the stun gun in my hand as I move low and slow and sleek towards his back.

~

0

TOTCB Chapter 8 ‘God’s away on Business’

Hey there,

First official book is out and it already has a handful of great reviews, seven to be exact. I’m pretty happy about that, one or two in there really get what I was going for, that’s great. But as my publisher tells me ‘it’s a marathon, not a sprint’, so more will come in given time and effort and I need to get back to the daily grind of writing and editing.

Oh yeah almost forgot, I finished Green Sunday part 2 yesterday. It is done, just needs a little proofreading from yours truly, then off it goes to get edited and back to me for another proofread and then into your hands hopefully and I haven’t even got my author copies of book one yet haha.

I should be really excited, it feels like an eternity I’ve been waiting to start that Dexter spin-off/spiritual successor/inspired book and I’m finally going to be let loose on that. It feels almost sanctified, like all I’ve done has been building to this, the wacky loose comedy and violence of Green Sunday and the stark disturbing dreaminess of Ladies Close your eyes and the stark reality of The one that came back coming together to make this next series, bringing all those elements together to make a whole stronger than all of them.

I say I should be happy about it but bummed out from a day of sucking at Gwent haha.

I am happy, but there’s always that sliver of melancholy that sneaks in when you finish anything you put your heart and soul into. It’s like a reward in a way.

Anyway, the next chapter of TOTCB or an excerpt of is below, you can find the full chapter on the inkitt page with the link below as usual. Still having it edited so if you sign up to my mailing list you can get yourself a free copy when it’s finished.

See you…

God’s away on business

–

It was happy hour.

Porter was sitting at the bar with an untouched pink flamingo cocktail in his hand. His other hand held his chin as he leaned with his elbow on a damp beer mat. It was dark outside but still warm.

“Phone for you Porter!” Patrick said at the back of the bar. Porter didn’t even hear it ring. The bar was full, locals mostly and a couple of college kids that looked lost.

Porter walked around the bar trying not to fall over a guy in a hockey jersey who couln’t find his feet.

The phone was on the end of the bar itself, all the way in the back.

Patrick wasn’t waiting he left the receiver on the side and Porter picked it up and put it to his hear.

“Porter”

“Dear god, you sound terrible”. A quick snippy new Yorker accent rattled around in his ear like a bad penny circling the drain.

“Wrong number, god’s away on business”

“It’s Phil” He sounded, his voice rising at the end like that should mean something.

“…”

“Phil Robertson from Channel eight action news.” He said it almost like a chant, ‘I think therefore I am’.

Porter licked the corner of his mouth.

“You remember me you prick” Phil smiled on the other end.

“I remember, what is it?”

“You been watching the news at all?”

“I don’t have all day” Porter was used to long stories from people who liked to talk but not on the phone.

“Sure you do, who are you kidding? All you micks do is sit around that bar waiting for someone to bludgeon you with a chair leg”

“Is it a job?”

“It’s a job.”

“Yeah?” Porter was waking up now. His eyes were half open and he slipped a carton of cigarettes out of his pocket and pushed one between his lips. He looked up and saw his brother signalling for him to put it away with a soggy bar towel twisting between his hands.

“Usual rate plus expenses”

Porter grimaced and put the whole pack down. He glared at his brother who smiled like a cherub, tossing the bar towel over his shoulder. Slapping himself in the face with it on accident to the great joy of a local tout

“Better not be anything to do with a sextape, I’m done with celebrity bullshit.” Porter felt antsy, he needed to put something in his mouth. He reached for a handful of bar nuts and started crunching them into the receiver.

“No it’s nothing like that, are you hearing a crackling sound?”

“No”

“Must be on my end. There’s this kid, he was on the news, it was leaked by someone on the inside. We don’t know who and we can’t get in touch with anyone from the embassy who’ll talk to us”.

“The job?”

“Ok ok, I just want you to track him down so we can set up an interview that’s all. He’s in San Antonio but that’s all I know, that’s not too far from you right?”

“Right”

“So you’ll do it?”

“Yeah, I’ll do it”

“Great, great, the kids name is Johnny Bartlett and his sister’s name is Peggy Carson. You might do better going through her. Supposedly this kid has been missing for over four years. Do you need me to spell any of that, are you writing this down?”

“No”

“You sure?”

“Yeah”.

“Ok keep me posted, I’ve already got a crew set up in north san antone. The address is K335 Northwest Loop 410, it’s along the freeway, you can’t miss it”.

“That all?”

“Just find’em and get’em there, that’s all”

“Right” Porter said as he hung up the phone.

–

 

 

0

TOTCB Chapter 7 ‘Sorrows Child’

Bonjourno people,

With the launch of my first book (officially) around the corner, let’s take the time to look at this other, less good book I wrote over nanowrimo which I curse to this very day for making me rush this could have been master piece haha. Nah I don’t really care, it got my word count out of the dirt. My rate now is up to where I can write a full novel in like two months give or take proofing and what not and that’s with days off to market my old stuff so it’s cool. It was a good excercise for my mind. Got me out of that devil may care attitude, it was a kick in the butt I needed. But never again haha.

But who knows, after the edit, it might be bareable and Brian my publisher might like it and it could make money someday, but for now it shall be free for the people.

That’s pretty much it, only update I really have is I suck at gwent online haha.

As usual, the link is below, and an excerpt.

See you..

Sorrows Child

~

The party had waned, people with full bellies and rosey cheeks rolled out to their cars and trucks. Peggy waved them off. Johnny said he was tired and locked himself in his room for the rest of the day.

Peggy was about to call it and get an early night with some true crime shows and a cup of hot tea when the phone rang. Which was strange since pretty much everyone she knew was either here on their way out or were on their way home.

She answered the phone with a curt “Yes”.

“Hello, is this Peggy Carson?” A woman on the other end said.

“That’s me”

“This is special agent Nancy Jageur of the federal bureau of investigations. I was wondering why you hadn’t brought Johnny in for a formal interview yet. It’s been almost two weeks now since he arrived isn’t that right?”

“Yeah well we just wanted to get him settled before we got into all that, you know?” Peggy seemed nervous she put the phone in the crux of her neck and fiddled with her wedding ring.

“I understand but I have an investigation to follow up on and the longer we wait the colder the trail will get. I’ll need you to meet me as soon as possible”

“Ok, I can do that”

“I’ve organised a room for us at the San Antonio missing children’s centre. How’s Monday afternoon for you?” Nancy said idly as if she was booking a nail appointment.

“Err, yeah, Monday is good, we’ll bring him in then”

“That’s great, I’ll see you then”.

“Bye” Peggy said as she clumsily hung up the phone, her nerves were a little shot maybe she drank too much. It was time for bed at least.

–

As soon as Nancy put down the phone Con looked up from the report he was reading and said “So?”

“Monday”

“Monday?”

“I said Monday” Nancy smiled.

“You’re excited?”

“Anxious” She said as she looked at the colour Photostat picture of Johnny. The san Antonio missing children’s centre had sent it over. He was a good looking blonde haired blue eyed kid no more than thirteen years of age.

Con and Nancy had been set up in a small back office in the Bureau’s San Antonio field office. It was a simple and old looking room with white corkboard walls. Halogen ceiling lights blaring day and night. A paltry ceiling fan that did next to nothing. The desks were brown chipboard like the ones you’d get in a community college classroom. Still there were free donuts and the coffee wasn’t half bad. Lots of Mexican style pastries.

“Did she say why she didn’t call as soon as they had him?”

“Something like that” Nancy rocked back and forth in her swivel chair. Tossing thoughts in her head like bales of hay.

“What is it?”

“I dunno, there’s just something off about her, she seemed really nervous.” Her voice got distant as she reached for a blank white coffee cup on her desk.

“But she’s not the one coming in for an interview, it’s the kid. Maybe she just doesn’t like cops”.

“We’re not cops” Nancy smiled and turned her head sideways.

“Yeah but you sound like one” Con gave a sharky grin.

Nancy chupsed and squinted.

Con snorted.

She reached into the pink pastry box on her desk and threw a chirro at him that he deftly dodged laughing.

–

0

LCYE Chapter 15 ‘A World of Madness’

Hola seniors and senioritas,

Had like a minor backlash from my comments about camwho- I mean cosplay girls. No but seriously, I dunno, I guess I was in a bad mood or something, when am I not amirite haha? And my disdain for normies and facebook admins had reached its peak boil. I just can’t stand these little internet nazis thinking they can tell me what I can say and when I can say it and how. Like this facebook group is their own little dictatorship, it’s just fucking infuriating talking to these idiots so I just block them when they message me with these fucking snide little diatribes about how I posted on the wrong day or I didn’t ask their permission first. Fuck you, I’ll post whenever I goddamn like, don’t like it kick me out of the group, there are only like a million more groups without you controlling them.
I just can’t stand these people with this inflated sense of self-importance. People who have zero power over their own lives using what little power they have on the internet to police others, it’s as Donald Trump would say ‘Sad’.
But anyway that’s my spiel and I’m sticking to it, still think cosplay is shit and the people who do it are just fat attention whores and you can’t copyright a picture you took of your own fat ass. Honestly that post got shitloads of traffic so maybe more of that cancer is useful.

I guess my personal life turning to shambles just has me on edge and anyone who sticks their neck out is about to get cut in one way shape or form.

Anyway that bullshit out-of-the-way, gonna get into some updates. So the contract with Muddy boots is signed, haha he can’t turn back now, totally stuck with me haha. What does that mean, well the book is going back for another edit, hopefully my cover cost will be compt, which would be nice. Not sure I’d do anything productive with the money, maybe buy another knife haha.

That’s underway, should have a release schedule soon, more people on my mailing list, kinda surprised by how steady it’s building and honestly it’s all due to the awesome cover Mike did for me. It looks spectacular in a thumbnail.

In other news people seem to love the book that or they’re polite enough to lie to me haha. Had lots of positive feedback, should amount to a lot of nice reviews, I’m also going on a zombie themed podcast soon, so that should be fun.

GS2 is coming along nicely, kinda feel like I’m rushing it a little but out of just excitement really, feel like a dog chasing rabbits. I just want to get into it and it’s shaping up really nice. You know you’re enjoying writing when it makes you smile even writing it. I might have bitten off more than I can chew characterwise but I think I differentiated them and made them giant fucking stereotype caricatures enough to make them stand out and not have them just blur into one. But fuck I’m having fun, currently lying in a hospital bed which is my coach being treated for Xcom 2 addiction, the struggle is real.

Other than that and my crippling loneliness, alls good on the western front oh and the postman just brought me my polish gwent decks, pisser.

And here, completely unconnected is an excerpt of the penultimate chapter of a novella you should have already in e-copy if you’ve signed up to my mailing list LADIES CLOSE YOUR EYES. If you wanna check out the full thing head on over to my inkitt page and if you want the full edited version sign up to the mailing list to get a free copy for your ebook reader.

Thanks for checking in.

See you…

A World of Madness

–

There was an annoying buzzing sound rattling the real wood bedside table of the Thunderbird lodge.

Some stirring under the covers.

A brown naked arm stretched out to pick the phone off the bedside table and retracted back under the warmth of the covers.

“Special agent Harriet Jageur speaking” A muffled voice under the covers said.

A few moments of silence passed as she dazedly listened to the rushed voice on the other end.

“Thank you for informing us, we’ll be in touch”

As soon as the call ended Harriet launched out of the bed flinging the covers off her nude body.

“Shit fuck shit!”

Con lay exposed under the tossed over covers naked in Harri’s bed awoken by the immediate sense of immediacy.

“What is it?”

“Banville’s been murdered in the fucking interrogation room! Mirra got away in his car, he could be in the next fucking state by now!” Harri spoke as she faced away from him quickly putting on a bra and panties that were tossed out the front of the bed. She sprang for the cupboard’s and started to dress as fast as humanly possible.

“So what now?” Con lay struck in her bed.

“Get dressed”

“We need to slow down and think this through. We have no idea where’s he’s going. There’s gotta be an APB already out on Banville’s car, they’ll turn him up.”

“Get dressed!”

“And go where?”

Harri took in a harsh rasping breath and looked at the floor, she tensed her jaw and her eyes got moist. “This is my fault”. She paused and heaved a few more long wet breathes. “I opened his cuffs, I was too fucking caught up in all this hoodoo voodoo spooky bullshit and now someone is dead because of me! Because I forgot to lock a pair of fucking cuffs”

“This is not your fault. We need to be smart, what do you wanna do just barrel out the door and follow the sirens? You think he left us a trail of breadcrumbs?”

Harri was quiet for a moment. She closed her eyes and a few nervous tears leaked out as she stood looking a mess with her clothes hastily assembled. Buttons skew and her skirt on backwards.

An hour later she was changed into a dressing gown. Her hair pinned back sitting on the bed, her back against the back board. Calm after a steady application of coffee. A laptop on her knees as she checked Mirra’s bank records they’d had subpoenaed the moment he was taken into custody.

Con sat at the writing desk with a pair of pyjama bottoms on with no top checking flights in and out of the state and any activity in Mirra’s credit cards.

“Anything?” Harri said without looking up.

“Not much, you?”

“I have something, two flights purchased on his credit card. Two seats premium economy to Sacramento, he paid for a room in some motel down there.”

“Doesn’t seem like much”

“Not on its own” Harri looked up scornful. But then there’s a return journey with only one seat booked.”

“So you think he planned a little vacation and then what? Maybe she got sick and had to take the bus back, maybe they had a fight and he left her there? It doesn’t explain how he could kill her there, if that’s what you’re suggesting and get the body back”

“These days’ airlines weigh and record the weight of your luggage so they can charge you more, especially with budget airlines. His luggage going coming back was almost ninety pounds heavier”

“That’s a lot of souvenirs. It’s a cute theory but it could be anything. Maybe he was picking something up from craigslist, a ninety-pound paperweight.” He looked back and gave her a silly grin. “Doesn’t the airport have sniffer dogs?”

She gave him a narrow eyed look and chupsed. “They do” She paused and exhaled as she looked down at her laptop “For bombs” She took a sip of her coffee. “She’s not a bomb”.

TOTCB – Chapter 5 ‘Stranger than kindness’

Bonjourno, mi amigos. Probably butchering that, how many languages was that? I dunno, fuck I’m so talented, all that multi-lingual stuff haha. Yes I’m joking, no I’m not that narcissistic, pretty close though.

Ok so what’s new?
Not much, just being doing the day job thing as of late, picked up an addiction to Gwent (Google it). May get fired for playing it at work, well that would solve that problem wouldn’t it haha.

I got some writing done after a snaffoo with some of my software. But it’s all hunky dory now and I’m away, and honestly, I’m having too much fucking fun writing this book, honestly, wtf? Why is it this fun to write this much nonsense. It’s like writing it is reading it for the first time because I have like the outline and the characters but I don’t really know how it’ll take shape other than that. I don’t know how the characters are going to interact, or what they’re going to say or how they’ll act, what they’ll do or how they’ll do it.
It’s all flowing out of me like a stream of consciousness, like I type it and there it is. Like it’s not even coming from me and its fun. I’m really enjoying how it’s taking shape, it’s like a puzzle slotting into place and the nature of the book itself is fun. It’s almost like a portmanteau movie with all these different characters, different worlds colliding.

Yeah so that’s it, just really enjoying it, can’t tell if that’s a good thing or a bad thing yet but fuck it, better than writing some miserable crap that makes me want to hang myself haha.

Remember if you want a free review copy of the first book, hit me up on twitter or facebook and if you’re on my mailing list you get a free ebook just for joining.

Peace out people.

Oh yeah also here’s a chapter of my last book that everyone seems to hate haha fucking nano, yes I am blaming you haha.

Stranger than kindness

~

On the plane Johnny seemed nervous and Peggy could tell, but she couldn’t think of any reason why he would be. To her this was the end, this was what she wanted, he was home.

She turned to him as the plane slowed to a crawl, putting her hand on his and she said “Are you ready to go home Johnny?”

Johnny didn’t react at first, as if hearing his own name was so foreign to him. He could hardly believe where he was, what he chose, there was no going back now.

He smiled and nodded.

They got off the plane and there reporters with cameras waiting for him asking him questions he didn’t answer. They just pushed past them into the arrivals lounge and they didn’t follow them.

She held his hand, he was shy and she suddenly felt a shard of ice hit her heart and she thought what it might be.

She turned to him and looked at him and he looked away.

“Johnny, are you afraid Momma’s not gonna love you anymore or something?”

He didn’t say anything, he mouthed something and furrowed his brow.

“You don’t need to worry, you’re home now. We’ve missed you, we’ve all missed you, but it’s going to be ok now, I promise”

She lead him out of the arrivals area and through passport control and to get their luggage. He didn’t have much but that one backpack and the clothes on his back.

What if there was something wrong with him? What if he’d never get better, what if the Johnny she knew was gone, never to return.

She shook off those feelings and lead him out to the parking lot.

Still he was nervous, he couldn’t stop moving. Bouncing around almost, going to the bathroom a lot and watching people and watching Peggy. He was always watching her for some reason. Trying to pick up cues from her. Like he’d forgotten how to be him and somehow watching her would help him remember who he was.

Who he was dependent on her expectation at this point.

Peggy’s husband Brandon with his camcorder. Their son Carl and daughter Sarah. Johnny and Peggy’s mother Angela had all loaded up in Carl’s Lincoln to go get Johnny and his sister.

They waited at the end of a long tiled windowless hallway. It was white with white rails along the side, slightly bluing tiles stuck on the walls. Brandon started filming as he saw people passing them by. Lots of people, young, old, fat, skinny, men and women but none of them were Peggy and Johnny.

More and more people passed, more people than seemed possible. With each passing it seemed less and less likely that they would come out. For a moment it seemed like a bad dream, they’d lost one child and sent another to find him only to lose that one too. The big bad world just swallowed them up. With each passing stranger their hearts sank.

Until finally Peggy emerged carrying her one duffel bag, she looked warn out but happy. Her hair was a messy, probably from sleeping on it. She wore a t-shirt and jeans, her face looked content like she’d just been around the world and seen all seven wonders in one shot. She saw her family waiting their huddled together. Anxious, excited, a little fear there, fear of the unknown.

They were the only ones left, the last off the plane.

~

0

LCYE Chapter 13 ‘Confinement’

Just gonna be a quick update because I’m up to my neck in stage hand work right now for this grand show I put on for you kind people.

Again another shout out to my new subs on my mailing list, thank you very much for paying attention to this fucking train wreck haha.
I’m really busy, I got the edit back for LCYE and I’m just proofreading it again and making the changes as well still spamming for more subs haha. But it’s coming together. I just wanted to go over it with a fine tooth comb to make sure it’s at it’s best when I convert it into a pdf/epub and send it to you lovely people.

As far as my writing is going, it’s going haha. I’m writing something a little sillier as a break. I was trying this new diet which I had to rework because I felt like a zombie and it put a kink in my weight lifting but it’s all good now. I thought I had writers block but it turned out I was just dying haha.

I dunno, this novella I’m working on is a little wet, just wanted to keep myself busy til I’m psyched up enough for GS two, or something new. It’s just not jelling as well, it’s a blast from the past, it’s sort of silly and stilted and doesn’t really represent the growth and the scope of my newer work.

But enough of me rambling incoherently.

Here’s chapter 13 of LCYE that is being proofread and will be in the inbox of hopefully everyone reading this blog within the month.

Without further ado here is Confinement

~

He fell into consciousness wide eyed and drenched in sweat. His breathe burning in his chest. He strained against plastic ties which bound his arms to the black metal struts of what seemed to be a weightlifting bench.

Was it a room?

It smelled dank, rotting wood and coppery smells of rust. It was too dark to tell.

He was lying in what felt like a dentist’s chair, his arms held down at his sides. He was restrained not only at the wrists but it felt like all the way up his arms and his legs. He had zero mobility in any of his limbs. His head equally was held in place by what felt like plastic wrap, wound tightly around his forehead. It was sticky and forming a lot of sweat but none of which allowed him any more mobility.

He felt powerless, his heart beat out of his chest for what felt like an hour of blackness and panic. Finally, when he’d given up hope of his limbs proving useful for escape he faded into despair. Taking deep breathes getting gradually shallower and more quiet until he heard someone else breathing.

A generator sprang into life, humming and coughing behind his head. A bright unshaded bulb was born cutting through the thick dark dank of what he now knew was a boxcar probably deep in the railyard. In a place no one could hear them.

An unseen scratching, and then music started to play.

“How much is that doggie in the window (arf, arf)

The one with the waggley tail”

As the record was started, James felt a sharp tugging and a shifting in his seat. A feeling of falling as the hydraulics in the chair dropped him lower and then bolted him almost upright. Instantly he was made aware of what he was supposed to see.

In front of him were two rows of something obscured by a tan hide tarp. They were spaced out as if they were seats on a train and behind them there was something hanging on the wall. Something that looked like an animal.

He heard breathing getting closer to his ear and then a voice he thought he knew.

“James, it’s good to see you. Are you resting comfortably?”

~

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The One Who Came Back – Chapter 3 ‘A Little Trip to Heaven’

Herro der.

Ok so getting off my ass, really making good use of my time recently my personal life falling apart aside.
Keeping pretty tight to my new 2k word goal, spitting reviews out of my ass like confetti and getting lots of proof reading done and I got a few more people on my mailing list by offering them free shit that’s not out yet haha.
It’s coming out soon, calm your tits. Just getting it edited, we’ve already been through the quote and I have the cash. I even have an artist lined up to do the cover, which isn’t cheap considering this is a novella I’m giving away for free. I just want to make sure the product I’m giving out is the best possibly quality, but that takes time.
I will probably be selling it on amazon in hard copy as well just because why not when I’ve put so much time and effort and money into it. So you can pick that up if you feel like it just to support me but you don’t have to do obviously, you’re getting your free digital copy as soon as possible.
Been working on my latest novella just to prepare for when I wade into my next big novel project. It’s just a kind of wet silly horror novela, should be fun. I’ll be posting it on inkitt when I start proofreading it and I’ll probably be giving away ebook copies of that too when it’s edited.
But enough of my rambling updates. I just want to welcome the new people who joined my mailing and following my blog, thanks a lot for the support if you’re reading this, if you’re not I fucked your mother haha.

Ok so here’s the next proofread chapter of my nano novel which I’m really impressed with, I think this is the most professional thing I’ve done.

Here’s an excerpt from chapter 3 ‘A little trip to heaven’

If you want to read the full chapter head on over to inkitt by clicking on the hyperlink so you can get it in a mobile format and all that good stuff.

Anyway thanks again for reading this garbage haha.
Cheers!

–
“Some more pictures-“The tv was on, a home movie was playing. On the screen was a young girl’s room. White walls covered in pictures and cabinets lined with stuffed animals. “This is Peggy’s room, her bed, she even gots tv in her, aint she lucky?” A little boy’s voice said as the camera panned clumsily around the room.

“What if he doesn’t remember me?” Peggy said as she sat on their maroon couch next to her husband Brandon in their darkened living room.

“Well you’ll never know if you don’t go there and your mother sure as hell can’t make that trip, it has to be you.” He sighed and put his arm around “I wanna go with you but I’ve got work, you know that.”

“The birthday girl.” The boy on the tape said. The camera swayed into a canted angle on a young woman smiling, sitting at a table with her family. “Aint she beautiful?” Sounds of indistinct conversation could be heard as the the camera swept through the room looking around the kitchen and dining room. “And here is her brother, Johnny.” The camera jerked around as the boy aimed the lens at his own face. Giving the camera a semi-toothless grin and a direct view into his nostrils.

–

Peggy fidgeted in her seat on the plane. Taking long breathes and playing with saint christopher hanging around her neck.

She got the earliest flight she could, terrified but also eager. She’d never left texas before nevermind the country. Her heart raced and as soon as she sat down in her seat she swallowed and seemed to forget. All the hurrying and packing and walking on strained tight calves as she rushed to her flight. The hairs on the back of her neck. She felt like she was carried along by a sense of immediacy she couldn’t explain. She had to see him and touch him and kiss him and know he was ok or…

She couldn’t sleep, not on the flight and not the two days before it. Her heart wouldn’t let her, it beat and beat and it wouldn’t stop until she knew it was real and it wasn’t a dream.

The plane was crowded. She didn’t remember picking her seat, it was an aisle seat in coach. She couldn’t focus on anything, couldn’t keep her eyes on one thing or another. No faces were clear, she felt like she was in a doctor’s waiting room. Something about not moving but still moving set her teeth on edge and it made her want to walk the whole way to spain. She took a mirror out of her purse and poked at one of her eyes.

Peggy was a fairly pretty texas flower with shoulder length dirty blonde hair. Maybe just a little too much eye make up to cover up the lack of sleep. Hey eyebrows were so thin they looked drawn on. She had a strong Nordic looking face and jawline she softened with flowing bangs and a dimple in her chin. She looked tired though and she knew it. She was just past thirty and the lack of sleep did nothing for the sagging under her eyes. Her mouth was slightly downturned with a touch of natural lipstick

She couldn’t see out the windows. Everyone around her was either asleep, eating or watching a movie. Three things that didn’t cross her mind. She couldn’t shake the feeling she was in a box. She barely noticed the plane taxiing for take off. Only the tight feeling as her heart sunk into her seat as the plane took off.

It was a night flight so as soon as they got going they turned off most of the lights.

She laid her head back and closed her eyes and tried to sleep.

It didn’t work.

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LCYE Chapter 12 ‘Silent Circus’

Bonjour, you know the drill now ladies and gentlefolk. I rambled on for a bit and then dish out another chapter of one of my many and diverse brainfarts.

Honestly not much has happened between the last time I did this except oh yeah I have a child now. Surprise. I have a child with a woman that doesn’t like me, on the otherside of the globe that I’ll most likely never see and she’ll grow up resenting me and calling someone else daddy.

Enough of that drama.

The wheels are still turning, I kicked the people who need kicks in the asses and it should be working it’s way up now. The cover sketches are on the way and I’ve sent the lcye manuscript off for editing, we’re just working out payment now.

So here it is as promised, soon to be edited and available for free when you join my mailing list. As usual this is just a snippet, the full chapter and the rest of the book can be found on inkitt with the hyperlink below.

LCYE Chapter 12

Silent Circus
~
Con drove this time.

“Right over there” Harri said.

“I see it”.

Con pulled the Lincoln into the Riverside County Sheriff’s department parking lot.

The department had its own street sectioned off with the court house on one side and the Robert Presley detention centre on the other.

They parked in the small east side parking lot in between a couple of shiny pickup trucks.

The building itself was located in downtown riverside. A built up area that made a change from the open spaces they’d become accustomed to out here.

The courthouse, the detention centre and the sheriff’s department building were all concrete buildings. Elegant but with a hint of noble authoritarianism.

The building they’d parked in the shadow of was a tall rectangular concrete edifice. The windows of which were narrow strips high across the top, well above the average person’s height. Around eight or nine feet off the ground hooded by concrete awnings. Evidently it was some sort of holding facility not connected to the actual detention centre.

Despite the serious tone the buildings evoked, this was still California and of course there were palm trees everywhere. But even they were regulated in a strict spacing along the sidewalks. More serious plants stood guard in grey concrete planters along the edge of the rectangular holding facility. Some sort of fern or bush that had been trimmed into a phallic point.

On the other side of the parking lot was what looked like a multi-storey car park. They’d come the opposite way so hadn’t passed it. In between that and the temporary holding cells was a small red building with a comms tower poking out of the top. That must have been some kind of small office building for admin personnel.

Con hopped out of the car and quick stepped around the front not quite sure what to expect. Harri bundled herself out of her side almost visibly shaking. The thought of standing seemed to throw her. She sat for a moment turned out in her seat leaning on the open door taking in as much air as she could before could stand without feeling sick.

Con stood like a child watching his mother recover from a car crash. He was a good foot away standing with his hands out of his pocket not sure whether he should try and help her.

His mind was made up when she steadied herself against central column of the Lincoln and her Glock fell out of hip holster. He quickly stepped in and stooped to pick up the small plastic gun, which now looked like a cap gun on the parking lot floor.

He lifted it up like a glass slipper and presented it to her on one knee. She scowled at him and made a chupse sound. “Thanks” She put the Glock back in the holster and steadied herself.

His eyes searched her for a moment and she chupsed again “It’s nothing sordid ok?”

“I didn’t say anything”

“I know but I can feel your smirk.” She closed her eyes and lowered the pitch of her voice “It’s not a big deal, I don’t want you to go building it up in your mind”

“I wouldn’t dream of it” A little smirk leaked out, his fears of her unknown past seemed to melt away just a little.

She sighed and chewed on her lip a little almost for show.

“You know I used to be a cop”

“No, I didn’t know that.”

“Really, I thought everybody knew. Well regardless, I used to be a cop back in St Louis and when I was such a thing I worked in narcotics.” She paused to watch his cogs spin a little. “I know what you’re thinking and it’s not that. I didn’t steal drugs from the taskforce, you think someone with a history like that could make it into the FBI?”

Con shrugged.

~

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The One That Came Back Chapter 2 ‘Small Change’.

Well here he is, my first and maybe my only detective character haha. Porter Caraway, I hope you like him, or maybe I don’t, I worked hard on him or maybe I didn’t haha.

What have I been up to besides day job, not much, doing what I hate, waiting and watching. I hate that shit, I’m only happy when I’m moving forward, can’t stand standing still. I’m waiting on my editor to get back to me on editing LCYE so I can give it away for free, waiting on artists to get back to me on covers for LCYE and GS, waiting waiting waiting, driving me crazy. I want to be selling this shit, I want my fame and millions now please haha. Yeah right.

I need to keep moving forward, I said I’d wait til january to write something new and I kept my promise, did I need the rest, probably not. It’s just another novella to keep my mind occupied until I settle on another novel. I’m battling in my minds between doing the fantasy novel or the serial killer dexter fanfic. They’re both fighting for supremacy in my subconscious.

Or I could fall back on a longer comic synopsis, I have some crazy shit stored away but my instincts are telling me if this novel, this one as in ‘The one that came back’ isn’t a mainstream hit, if it doesn’t get me an agent or get above an amazon publish then I need to focus on more mainstream hot spots, so the dexter fanfic and the crazy shit I have in my back catalogue is pushed to the side by the fantasy series I’m not as crazy about. And I know just writing more and more shit won’t help me sell books unless I can market them but I’m not as interested in selling as I am in publishing them for real and not going into this sea of indie nonsense. But I’m trying to stradle both streams, why not?

So right now, just losing my mind, swimming in a sea of unease, unsure what stone to step on next, if I’m even moving forward. I dunno, anyway here’s a segment of it here.

Let me know what you think and as always you can check out the full chapter and the last chapter on inkitt.

Small Change

See you…

~

It was late, a guy in a pair of sweatpants and vest beat on a Blonde in a tan overcoat in the glare of a giant super eight sign.

The parking lot of the super eight was like a cheery holiday graveyard, all lit up and nowhere to go.

“You done?” The blonde spat blood on the floor and looked up at the man in the vest.

“You fucking son-of-!“ The man in the vest sunk a shoeless foot into the blonde’s ribs and he wheezed a sickly a laugh through a bust lip.

“The pictures are in the mail.” The blonde looked up at him, cocking his head, his sunken eyes half open. He licked his lips and propped himself up on his hands as he sat on the parking lot floor to watch the man in the vest go back into his motel room. The room closest the entrance looking out onto the interstate. Guess he thought he could see anyone coming and he did. Not that it mattered.

The blonde was still sitting on the happy concrete as he watched the man in the vest through his open curtains. He entered his brightly lit room, greeted by his brightly lit woman. The blonde on the ground smiled and waved as he pushed a cigarette passed his split lip.

She held the man in the vest back as his blood boiled up again. Instead he just marched over shot a few daggers at the blonde and shut the blinds.

Porter pulled himself up off the ground, all the outside bits hurt. The skin and the bone, but the inside, no one could touch that. He ruffled his short blond hair, running a finger across his jawline. Making sure his rudy good looks were still all in the right order. Dusting himself off he felt a little melancholy slip in as it usually does. The image of the woman he’d been sent to spy on greeting the man she sent out to beat his ass, warmed the cockles of his heart. A part of him knew he’d never have that for some reason. Nah it was just his job to watch, like someone paid to poke an antfarm every ten minutes or so, see what fell out.

What fell out this time; a husband paid him a couple hundred bucks up front to get him pictures. His woman was stepping out with some small time country music singer. Apparently the honkey tonk man’s daughter made it big up north and left him down here to rot. Squeezing her two dollar ass into five dollar spandex and shaking it for teenagers. Fine work, if you can get it. Now he was carving himself off a piece of someone else’s wife.

He’d already been hanging on the last couple of nights and he had enough pictures. This was just a follow up, obviously he’d out stayed his welcome.

~

Small Change

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