Thursday 28 April 2016

Thurs Threads Wk214 Buckets and Gallons

The Struggling Artist

Sweat ran down his spine, his body glistening with every aggressive stroke of the brush. Paint bled into the walls, unable to cover the memory he desperately wanted to erase. Buckets and gallons of paint seeped into his secret but still he continued, brush after brush as bristles frayed like his temper.

But the slate had to be clean, the walls bare, fresh and ready for his next work of art; always a blank canvas to open his mind and explore his demons. That’s what his therapist said, release his demons through his art. But he was never satisfied. The demons kept talking to him, whispering their loathing, mocking his aspirations.

At last, he could do no more. The unblemished white canvas was ready. His muse was ready. She sat on a lone wooden chair in the sparse room as he held his large palette, walking around her, inhaling her scent, studying her naked curves. He ran his fingers through her long golden hair, fanning out the strands around her milky shoulders.

There were no words as he began his art, releasing the jagged knife from under his palette, spraying his canvas in rich red as the demons cheered his work, silencing her gurgled screams. For now, his art briefly released him, his art lived as he watched crimson drip down the walls before it stopped and died.



Thursday 14 April 2016

ThursThreads Wk212 Why Are You Still Here?

I sat by my husband’s bedside, squeezing his limp hand until my fingers whitened. A spasm of pain etched across his pale face. Behind his closed eyes, something was there, still fighting, still wanting to be. I sighed then helped myself to the grapes by his bedside.  

I leant in close and whispered into his ear. “What will it take? Why are you still here?” It wasn’t the first time I‘d try to kill my husband but I hoped it was the last as I laced his favourite soup. I was running out of creative ways to make it look like an accident. And now the doctor had said he would survive, suggesting a bad bout of food poisoning of the innocent kind.     

He opened his eyes and they fell on me; cold, unblinking ice blue eyes. His thin lips curled into a smirk. “I’m thinking the same thing.” His hoarse voice made his words sound sinister.

I frowned, not understanding his ramblings, feeling a bit queasy from demolishing the entire bunch of grapes.  

“I know it was you, my dear. I know you know I’ve been unfaithful. But what you don’t know is
. . . I win.”

A hot flush pricked my skin. He cast his eye to the bare grape stalks.

“You should have done it right, my dear. I did.”

“Wh-at? H-how?” But I would never know as I slumped over him, his hand stroking my hair as I breathed my last.


Thursday Threads over at The Wierd, the Wild and the Wicked hosted by Siobhan Muir


Tuesday 12 April 2016

A-Z The Adventures of Katie Button - R

Continuing my A-Z series on The Adventures of Katie Button, my first romance/chicklit novel published through Crooked Cat. Taking a little break from the second draft of the sequel to explore a little bit more about Katie Button. Just the one letter today as there’s so much to write for R.

From the sequel, love this quote.

Red Communications

This is where all the troubles started for Katie. She loves her job but doesn’t set the world alight and goes unnoticed at Blackwell Creative, a mediocre branding company. But enter the Mastersons. Blackwell is taken over by Red owned by the Mastersons; brothers Jack and James and their father John Sr. At the same time, Katie starts having vivid dreams about James who she hasn’t had the pleasure of meeting until an awkward encounter in the boardroom. Red is the setting for a few office shenanigans, bitter quarrels, a bit of backstabbing and plenty of coffee. Just another day at the office; ‘reminded me of my days working alongside advertising execs!’ said a kind reader/reviewer.

Regression / Reincarnation
To try and make sense of the dreams, Katie undergoes regression. Through hypnosis, Katie revisits  past lives, discussing them with Peter who helps Katie make sense of the dreams and find the purpose of  them. The regressions are tough and emotional (brownies are a must afterwards) as they reveal painful truths, sometimes violent but always tragic.

The soul is reincarnated until it finishes its purpose on this Earth. I find this rather romantic as our souls have a destiny and do not rest until they meet their destiny, their soul mate on their journey- no matter how long it takes.    

From a friend's wedding. Too cute

The one thing that spoils a good shopping trip. The things that are left screwed up in the bottom of the bag. The things that remind Katie of the money she doesn’t have that she just spent on boots. But she really needs the boots. Honest.

Robbie Williams

Who doesn’t love Robbie!!!! (The exclamation marks are a giveaway that I actually love him). The clamour for tickets for one of his gigs is a pressurised, stressful few hours. But time well spent if successful (even if it is during work time). Katie doesn’t want to miss seeing Robbie at the O2 with her bestie, Alana. But there’s more to Robbie than a gig as Katie finds out . . .

The day I met Robbie Williams!!!!!! EEEKKKKK

Back to the highwayman. The sexy, wicked rogue of Katie’s dreams. There’s also a rogue in the real world, in Katie’s life who is just as sexy. But rogues aren’t for keeps as Katie finds out. 

That nerve racking moment when a review comes in. The Adventures of Katie has 22 reviews now including 18 five stars!!! (Amazon UK) and three reviews over on Amazon US. I’m over the moon at the positive comments and love for Katie Button. I can’t emphasise how important reviews are for an Indie author (good ones lol). Whether it’s a paragraph or two words, your review means the world and is truly appreciated.


                                                         A-Z Katie Button N-Q

                                                         A-Z Katie Button J-M

                                                          A-Z Katie Button G-I

                                                         A-Z Katie Button D-F

                                                         A-Z Katie Button A-C

                                               What's Hiding in Katie's Bedroom?

                                   Book Review of Katie Button by Chicklit Plus

                                                         Katie Button Playlist

                                   Where Inspiration Can Lead The Highwayman Poem

                                      Amazon UK 99p
                                      Amazon US 99c

Friday 8 April 2016

A-Z of The Adventures of Katie Button N-Q

It's been a while since I posted in my A-Z of Katie Button series. I've been busy writing Katie Button, the sequel and am nearing the end on the final chapter. Exciting times!!! But still working on a title. At present my chicklit romance novel, The Adventures of Katie Button is only 99p/c.

Back to the A-Z where we talk notebooks and quarrels.  

Katie loves her notebooks. She can’t resist the feel of a crisp, new notebook. There can never be too many notebooks and Katie doesn’t need a reason to add to her large collection of all different sizes and colours. She uses them like a diary, writing what’s in her head, mostly taking the shape of lists. The notebooks are extremely private and Katie closely guards what's written in them as at times, she writes without much thought, using it to vent her frustrations. But she's not worried about the content because it's highly unlikely the notebooks will fall into the wrong hands . . .

A snippet from one of Katie's Notebooks

Opera Office
Opera? The closest Katie comes to opera is when she’s in Covent Garden (home of Royal Opera House) having a few beers with friends, enjoying the street entertainment. But James enjoys opera. It's one of the first things Katie learns about James and she judges him on it. Not a good start when they first meet . . .

The office, Katie’s place of work. With her best friend, Alana sitting opposite her, Katie enjoys her job as she can sit and gossip and share pastries with their lattes.The odd appearance of eye candy in her bosses as they stride through is a bonus. And like any office environment there's a clash of personalities and of course there's the work.

Peter & Past lives
Katie meets Peter through her flatmate, Laura and Laura's boyfriend, Neil. Peter opens Katie’s mind to hypnotism and regression, exploring her dreams and past lives. It’s Peter who makes Katie realise what her past lives are trying to tell her and what they mean. But all he can do is explore their meaning. It's up to Katie to act on it or choose to ignore it. 
Peter is also the baker of the best brownies in the entire universe and each time Katie experiences a regression into her past lives, brownies are waiting for her.
Past lives experienced by Katie are: Ancient Rome (Iacobus the gladiator), Tudor England, Georgian England (the highwayman), Edwardian England (Titanic), England during WWI (1917), Italy (undated but dress and transport suggest late 1800's). 
Gooey, chocolatey, fudgy brownies hit the spot after a regression


Katie’s dreams and love interests (yes, that is plural) result in a few quarrels between colleagues, friends, brothers and lovers. Most of the arguments centre around Katie and her past lives. There are even quarrels in the past life experiences. As with some quarrels, things are said that can't be taken back and truths are revealed. 


                                                                 Amazon UK 99p
                                            Amazon US 99c


                                                        Previous Katie Button Blogs

                                                          A-Z Katie Button J-M

                                                          A-Z Katie Button G-I

                                                         A-Z Katie Button D-F

                                                         A-Z Katie Button A-C

                                               What's Hiding in Katie's Bedroom?

                                   Book Review of Katie Button by Chicklit Plus

                                                         Katie Button Playlist

                                   Where Inspiration Can Lead The Highwayman Poem

Thursday 7 April 2016

Face to Face with an Online Friend in London

Eeekk. I had a day out in London. On my own. But I’m a cool London chick or at least that’s the image I was trying to portray as I mooched from Victoria to Parliament Square to the Embankment uttering the mantra ‘I am not a tourist . . . I am not a tourist.’

I'm not a tourist. I'm not a tourist.

And I’m not a tourist. Even though I’m no longer living in London, I still regard myself a Londoner. Even though I’ve more years living out of London than in, (grrrrr) I’m still a Londoner. Hubby doesn’t get it. He hates London and can’t think why I still regard myself as a Londoner. Maybe that’s why. It’s inside. You can take the girl out of London . . . I get a buzz as the train pulls into London. I see excitement everywhere.  And that’s why I didn’t mind travelling up to London on my own.

 The cool London chick didn’t last long as I was busy snapping landmarks on the glorious sunny day. First was Big Ben. As I approached, it let out its first bong so I stopped, waiting to hear more. Ditzy moment alert!!! I love the bongs and being right under Big Ben at the time was exciting. But no other bongs came. Where were the bongs?  Why wasn’t there anymore bongs? I looked up at the clock. 1 pm. That explains no more bongs so I marched off.

Second ‘I’m not a tourist’ mistake was taking a selfie. Oops. Do Londoners have time to take selfies as they zip around the capital? Or, as I found along the Embankment, jog around London. This obviously is where I stood out as a tourist because I wasn’t dripping in sweat, pounding the pavement whilst wearing Lycra . . .  taking selfies.

Soon, I left Joggers Row and was on The Strand, the point of my solo trip to the capital. I was meeting a friend for the first time, a friend I met online. I did toy with the idea of posting this on facebook but thought again.

However, my imagination  got the better of me as I approached the hotel, thinking about meeting a tall, dark, handsome stranger and ended up posting to that effect. And great minds think alike my friend made a comment suggesting a story here.

'This could be the blurb for your next book!' Jan Fuller

Selfie with my online friend
And into the posh hotel lobby where I recognised my online friend immediately and with rather loud and exciting squeals, we ran towards each other and hugged. I’ve known my online friend for a few years now, in the writing world so meeting her in the flesh was like meeting an old friend. And with linked arms, we hot footed it to Covent Garden and found a cute cafe (which was organic but that wasn’t important at the time but should have been) and sat outside as the weather was gorgeous. Ditzy moment alert two . . . We ordered two diet cokes from the cute waiter who reminded us it was an organic cafe. Ah. Ordering a chemical shit storm in an organic cafe wasn’t our brightest moment but hey, we just met and was beyond excited. And our non stop babbling was proof of that. And another selfie to mark the occasion in Trafalgar Square.

So does organic mean no cup handles?

And then it was over. After a few hours of non stop gossip and laughter, with the odd swear word thrown in, my friend was back at her hotel. I carried on my bimble round London as cool London chick trying not to stand out as a tourist. Which went embarrassingly wrong when I wanted to get off the bus, expecting it to stop but it didn’t. Since when do you have to press the stop button to get the bus to stop? Why doesn’t it automatically stop at a bus stop? Have I been out of London that long that buses no longer stop unless you ask it to? Maybe a Boris Bike next time. Miles out of my way I managed to get off at the next stop as another passenger pressed the bell (thank you). And it wasn’t miles. It was one stop. But you know; busy person with places to go and people to see, exaggerating at the inconvenience of a missed stop as I strode down the Kings Road to visit my aunt. Maybe I’m not so touristy after all.
I'm not a tourist she says, checking in on Facebook