The Good, The Bad and The Catasphrophic

I have been pondering this blog post for a few days now; should I write it, would people find it interesting, am I wasting my time, no one is bothered about the the ups and downs of a writer. But the urge to write and celebrate a wonderful year took over and here I am.

It has been an amazing year where my writing is concerned and that's thanks to the fantastic writers I have 'met' on facebook who have become wonderful friends. Firstly, there was the Dark Fairy Queen Writerly Bridal Shower. Who can forget the crazy goings on in the process of a fairy wedding? Who can forget the excitement of creating a gorgeous story for the anthology? 

Two more anthologies followed (see above pic), both raising money for good charities and my stories were included. I'm in print! Yay!!! (I still look at my name in print and can't quite believe it). Both available on Amazon. 

It was on this high that I went full steam ahead into this years NanoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) with the support of the crazy community of writers. I was a Nano Rebel as my story had already started but I still had 50,000 in me as did the story. And that's when the catastrophe happened; my laptop just stopped working. I couldn't access any of my work as the little hole where the cable goes was broken or something like that. There wasn't even any power in the battery to boot it up. And do you know the worst of this sorry tale? Despite months of nagging from Hubby about backing up my work, I hadn't. So over 35k of words for my novel was locked along with all my other work. 

I cried.

I spat my dummy.

My writing career had only just started and had come to abrupt halt. Until Hubby's friend rescued my work which is now stored in various places; external hard drives, sky drive and now google cloud. I think my bases are covered. I just need to learn to use them properly.  

And the writing is back as Hubby bought me a Samsung Chromebook for Christmas/Birthday so happy, happy, happy although very different to what I am used to.  No excuses now for writing and joining in more on the flash fiction circuit. 

 That's where the bad comes in. I have been away for so long, I think I've forgotten how to write! I look at flash fiction prompts and have absolutely no clue. My Daily Picspiration pieces are so difficult and don't flow at all. I apologise for that and will up my game for 2014 especially as the calibre of writing is absolutely wonderful.

Looking to 2014, I am full of optimism. I intend to blog more, write more, share authors more. I also intend to publish my own novel. It's not going to happen unless I make it happen and I have wonderful friends who are helping me make it happen (Lisa Shambrook, Laura James and Ruth Long who are now thinking oh darn, forgot about that!) as well as friends who always love my work (Jan, Clare, Toni, Angela, Charlotte, Char, Shelley to name but few). So look out for The Adventures of Katie Button coming soon. 

I have other projects in my head that must escape. So watch out!  

2014 is going to be epic. . . . just saying. xxxx 

Happy New Year folks and to nick/adapt a famous Brucie phrase. . . Keep writing/reading. xx 

    

    

Oscar Mid Week Blues Buster

         

Waking up was painless for a split second. That’s how long it took the real world to fracture the dream world, replacing it with immediate emptiness. Molly lay still in the large bed, needing to stretch out her limbs, wanting to feel the warmth of Thom but knowing she would feel only cold, crisp sheets. She hated the weekends. Breaking up with Thom was harder to handle when there was no urgency to get out of bed, no work to occupy her mind. A whole day of nothing lay ahead of her. Just like it had for the past three weeks and still it wasn’t getting any easier.

But Molly had promised herself she would make today count, be a part of society, drink a latte at the corner cafe, buy a Sunday newspaper and maybe stroll through the park like she used to with Thom and Oscar. If Molly could be honest about her situation, she’d admit she missed Oscar more; she wasn’t angry with Oscar like she was Thom.

The cafe wasn’t so bad. She smiled as the latte was placed in front of her and was thankful the waitress didn’t ask about Thom. She sipped her latte, watching the world drift by, seeing how loved up everyone was, how they giggled as they walked by hand in hand. She and Thom used to be exactly like that. A swift gulp of her latte stifled a tear that threatened her veneered appearance of control. She had made it this far and was not going to turn back now. All that awaited her was an empty house, bursting with memories that was washed away momentarily with a bottle of rosé. If ever there was a sign of a broken heart, it was her recycling full to the brim with empty wine bottles. Not today. Today was the first of many painful first steps she had to take.

Buoyed up with confidence, Molly finished her latte. Feeling warm inside, she could now face the park; a brisk walk to blow away her constraints of misery. She paid her bill but was surprised when along with her change, Molly was given a paper bag.

“We’ve missed you Molly, and Oscar. Shame about you and Thom but life goes on and plenty fish in sea. Thom is a fool,” Dillon said with a smile. “But you can have these for Oscar. There’s some meat left on the bones.”

Molly never made it to the park. What was she thinking? The park? Without Oscar? It was bad enough without Thom but Oscar? It was Oscar that made her house a home. Oscar who bounded across the park after sticks, making Molly laugh, Oscar who snuggled at her feet, keeping them warm and Oscar who sat with her on those lonely empty nights whilst Thom was ‘working late’. It pained Molly even more when she realised Oscar was the only loyalty she had had in her life and how empty her life had now become now he was no longer in it.

510

 

My entry in this week's  Mid Week blues Buster over at The Tsuruoka files. You can listen to the musical inspiration called In a lonely place by The Smitherines here http://youtu.be/mlOVlqUcB8A . 

           

  

House For Sale - Daily Picspiration

Gale stood at the top window, the nets billowing around him as he watched the couple outside in his garden. They seemed more interested than most; it was their second viewing and their excitement tangible, even in the garden that had seen better days. He watched intently as the couple stood on the patio, his heart thumping hard inside his chest, his voice catching in the back of his throat as silence drifted from his lips.

“Do you think think they're going to buy it?” Mia asked, joining Gale by the window. She liked this couple. They reminded her of when she first looked at the house, wanting it instantly, feeling it was right. A second viewing was a good sign and the estate agent didn't seem to be over working it or trying the hard sell which was the best sign of all.

“We'll see. I don't want to think about it and what it could mean for us.” He returned a warm smile to Mia and squeezed her hand as the couple wandered back into the house.

From the stairs, Gale watched as the man stood at the French doors, looking at the garden. It was an oasis within the city and Gale remembered many a summer eve sitting out on the patio with a beer in hand chatting with Mia after dining alfresco. But now was the time for others to enjoy the garden and the house like he had. He and Mia needed to move on and hopefully now was the time.

“So,” began the man, turning to face the estate agent, “you said we can move in straight away and all furnishings come with the price?”

“Yep, no chain, just a straight forward sale. 10K has already been knocked off the price so it really is a good deal to be snapped up right away.” The man turned to face the garden again. Gale watched him, his interest piqued by the man's fascination with the garden.

“I think he's going to free us from this place Mia, I really do,” Gale whispered. He continued to watch the couple as they whispered amongst themselves, looking at each other intently then towards the garden.

It seemed an eternity before the man turned to the smiling estate agent, “we'll take it,” he stated firmly, a broad smile spreading across his face. “I'm sure we can make this place a home again.”

“Indeed you can,” the estate agent said eagerly, shaking his hand firmly. “I'll start the ball rolling.” He left the couple, walking out to the hallway, mobile phone already at his ear.

“I know this house has a history Deb's but the location, the price, I just feel so at home here and comfortable.”

“Me too,” she replied., drawn to the garden with her gaze.

“The garden is beautiful Deb's but I don't like the patio. I'm thinking of ripping it up, decking the area and landscaping the rest.”

Gale and Mia knowingly looked towards each other, hope creeping in to their hearts that they could really be moving and leaving this house behind. It was a happy home once upon a time and would be once again.

“Right, “ the estate agent said, “in six weeks then, this should be yours with no hiccups on the mortgage front. And you'll have a nice bit left over no doubt for some home repairs, really put your stamp on the place.”

“Yeah, Mark wants to start on the garden first,” Deb's replied.

“Good, yes, well, right, I'm sure the neighbours are going to be thrilled have the place full of life again. Put all the nastiness behind them and this house.”

“You said the couple disappeared? What's nasty about that?” the man asked.

“Well, the police have suggested foul play.”

“But there's no evidence of that is there?” he said, glancing to the patio.

“Well no bodies if that's what you mean.”

“Oh my gosh Gale,” Mia exclaimed, “he knows. We're going to be free.”

“I knew he was going to be the one Mia, I could feel it. He'll do as he said; dig up the patio, find us there and we'll be free.” He kissed her softly before they both drifted up the staircase to their bedroom, over looking their resting place in the garden.

Purple Or Green Daily Picspiration

I wrote this for http://picspiration.blogspot . xx 

Erin stood alone on the bridge; usually a tourist attraction but at this early hour of the morning, it was deserted. She’d heard tales about the bridge and the odd decoration that hung from the thick cables and how people added their own padlock and made a wish. She took a few moments to wonder how successful those wishes had been, whether they came true, whether a happy ever after followed. But that depended on the wish. Maybe some wishes were dark, greedy, self obsessed, causing someone nothing but pain and not knowing why.

She wasn’t here to make any wishes, good or bad. Her job was harder, almost impossible as she stared at the length of cables which had a padlock hanging from every inch. How was she to choose?

Another walk back and forth, staring hard at each padlock wasn’t helping. Sitting on the bridge, her feet dangling, didn’t help.  Frustration was too simple a word for the predicament facing Erin. But time was running out. Above the buildings, the sky began to turn to beautiful colours of dawn; wisps of deep pink, oranges and reds spread across a once darkened sky but Erin didn’t notice the beauty.  

How quickly time slipped by yet Erin wasn’t ready to make the decision; her heart wasn’t in it. Such a difference it made to everything. Without her heart, she was a shell. How could a shell make such a decision without feeling?

She heard the ticking of a clock, louder and louder, confusing her. Maybe she should just walk away and live her life without her heart; after all it had caused her nothing by grief. It had been broken twice; the second time most recently when Guy had broke off their engagement as he wasn’t ready, only to be ready enough with his work colleague.  That’s when she wanted rid of her pain, the heartache and pleaded with someone, anyone to help her.

Staring at the padlocks, Erin regretted every single word. What was life without a heart? Choose correctly, she’d get it back in an instant, choose incorrectly and it was gone forever, leaving her empty, uncaring, unloved and unable to love.

The purple padlock caught her eye. It had to be the one; purple was her favourite colour. She slowly reached out, her fingers just a tip away from touching when she hesitated. Her eyes strayed to the tiny, green padlock below. There was something familiar about it but she’d never seen it before. She hadn't noticed much since her heart had been taken. But the green padlock drew her in and her hand reached out and without hesitation her finger tips gently touched the cold metal.

Erin didn’t know what to expect but she hoped she’d feel different, feel emotion for everything around her. But she was indifferent. The sky was a dull blue. The river was murky. She squeezed the padlock until it dug into her skin hoping to feel some sensation of her heart back in my body. It was unacceptable to have chosen the wrong one. But obviously she had.

It was a long, despondent walk off the bridge to the bus stop where Erin waited alone. Finally, the bus came into view, trundling along an empty road. It stopped and the doors flung open. Erin stepped on, handing over change in exchange for a ticket.

“You get done what you needed to do at the bridge?” the bus driver asked.  Erin gave him an absent minded glance, nodded and took the ticket. “You don’t recognise me do you? I brought you here.”

“Oh, sorry, thank you.” She smiled but it was a half smile which was her life now; everything by half because she was not whole. The bus driver smiled back and Erin felt a jolt inside her, she felt a thudding against her chest like something wanted to escape but only as far as him. Erin took more notice as she stared at him. He stared back with his soft green eyes, smiling back.“Oh my God!” Erin couldn’t help but exclaim, resting her hand on her chest and felt the rhythmic beat. She looked around her and for the first time noticed how beautiful the town was with its quaint buildings, flower pots in bloom and the sun glinting on the river. Erin looked to the bus driver again and her heart lurched. The green padlock! The green eyes! Green!

“You made the right choice then?” he said grinning, “I knew you would when I dropped you off. The name’s Pete.” He held out his hand and Erin took it and knew she was never letting go.   

Daily Picspiration Piece Traitor

A little treat for those who are already familiar with my vampire, Luke and his companion Claudette. A little back story for you written for my Daily Picspiration entry as I continue with the story for this year's Nanowrimo. xxx    

Traitor

Picking up a pencil, Claudette scraped it along the desktop, gouging a trail the length of the desk, again and again until the pencil snapped in half. She threw it to the floor, admiring her work on the antique desk. This was Luke’s sanctuary, a place where he contemplated, relaxed, plotted and studied. He allowed no one in unless invited. Invitations were rare. Once behind the large oak doors, Luke shut out the world he had created, the world where the metallic taste of blood hung thick in the air, where the constant groans from slaves murmured throughout the walls, their wails and screams echoing through his bones, where his family laughed, argued, fought and feasted. 

It wasn’t a lifestyle choice, being a vampire. He was taken. Murdered. Only to be given life by the vampire who stalked him, wore him down before brutally feeding from his pulsating neck. Life had been good. Luke, an original Knight of the Garter, knighted by The Black Prince himself, the age where chivalry was standard, where knights jousted and fought for honour, love and bravery. Luke loved his life. But Francois set his sights on him, desired him, and hungered for the pure blood that ran through his veins. But Luke didn’t give up easily which only endeared Francois more to his quarry, respecting Luke’s fortitude, his desire to live, his spirit to fight. 

Luke still carried these traits now, over eight hundred years later; the spirit of the fight, loving his prey to run, defend, fight to the last which was pointless against a vampire but addictive to his soul. Yes, vampires had souls. Luke’s soul was like any other soul belonging to a vampire; dark, mysterious, black and predatory. He savoured the hunt. He relished each victim on their own merit. But he had only ever taken one into his world; Claudette. 

He remembered the evening he first saw her, at the opening of the Louvre in 1793. He followed her in as she admired the limited works on display. He read her thoughts on every painting and sculpture, learnt much, hungered for her more. She chatted politely, curtsied when royalty approached. Her spirit captivated him and he spent the next three nights following her until he could bare it no more. Arm in arm they walked to a quiet spot by the Seine where he revealed his true self. She ran, screaming which only aroused Luke more causing his fangs to extend. 

Giving Claudette a head start he strolled along the river bank, her scent in his nostrils; the thick smell of fear, the metallic scent of her blood mingling with sweetness of her sweat. He caught her, mid flight, whisking her off her feet, burying his face in her neck, an insatiable thirst. But he couldn’t finish. He needed a companion since Francois had died. Wanted Claudette. She would forgive him in good time just like he had done with Francois. 

Claudette stared down at the desk, at her handy work. Luke would know it was her. Luke would now know what it was like to be betrayed. The etched W in the desk meant one thing to both of them; witch. Luke’s dalliances with the young witch had brought shame on the clan, his own clan. How could he hide the witch from them and keep her powers to himself? It was treachery. And Luke was about to find out how traitors were dealt with in the vampire world. No mercy would be given. it didn’t matter that he was their leader, the head of the family or the most powerful. It just made Claudette more determined for with Luke out of the way, she would have the witch to herself and become head of the family. With Kian by her side, they would be unstoppable. 

By Invitation Only MidweekBluesBuster

                                      

By Invitation Only

The half finished derelict Victorian mansion set in a small clearing amongst the forest was the perfect setting for the party. The trees creaked and groaned as stray branches tapped against the third story windows. The wind swirled dead leaves around visitors’ feet as the jack-o-lantern welcomed guests with a jagged grin. The door bell gave a ghostly moan before the heavy wooden door creaked open revealing a darkened hall with only a flickering of a candle dancing in the breeze.

Ahead of the guests, two large white doors were firmly closed and the silence was broken only by the clip clopping of their footsteps against the black and white tiles. Victor looked to his wife, Clarissa, “do I have anything stuck between my teeth?” he asked, running his tongue across his pearly whites and glistening fangs.

“Beautiful darling,” Clarissa purred, baring her own fangs for inspection. She flicked back her long, black hair revealing the silver streak, pulled her black dress down a little, showing a little more cleavage before the doors sprung open.

The music assaulted their eardrums as did the cheer from the crowd as Victor and Clarissa glided in. Manny was the first to greet them, offering an unravelling hand as he groaned a welcome.

“Dear Manny,” Clarissa said, air kissing him, “how lovely to see you looking so well wrapped.” She and Victor made sure they spoke to everyone before heading for the bar.

“Two Bloody Mary’s please,” Victor said, “type O.”

“It’s a fabulous turn out this year,” Clarissa observed, seeing every single creature represented at the annual Halloween bash. This year, even the zombies had made it after their popularity had risen due to The Walking Dead. Last year, they didn’t even get an invite; picking up after them was always a dampener on the night.

“Cheers,” Victor clunked his glass and sipped his drink, licking his lips. “This does give me a taste of the hunt Clarissa. I hunger for the old days when we could go about unnoticed and chase own our prey.” He sighed heavily, “and wearing this stupid black cloak. Why do we have to dress up for Halloween?”

“Stop being a grouch Victor. It’s fun. Besides, Manny wouldn't be seen without his wrap,” she laughed, “we wouldn't see him either.” She looked at Manny the Mummy as he waved back. “It’s the one night of the year where we can truly be ourselves and do what we were born to do.”    

A flurry of ghosts drifted across the room, before disappearing through the wall as the headless horseman took centre stage with his break dancing. Clarissa loved the party, loved they were altogether; loved the one night of the year they were all allowed and were able to walk amongst the humans, unnoticed.

But the climax of the evening was the sound of the moaning doorbell. With all the guess already arrived, it only meant one thing; the delivery of humans. Clarissa jumped with joy as the music stopped and everyone gathered eagerly. “Now we don’t want to scare them off just yet. We’ll have some fun before we share the spoils,” she sang as she walked to the door.

Adjusting her dress again, Clarissa opened the door. She smiled, not afraid to show her fangs; it was Halloween after all.

“Sorry to disturb your party but our coach driver is lost. Do you have a phone? Useless mobile; no signal out here,” the middle aged man said.  

“Why of course. You and your group should come in for a rest, some refreshment. We have plenty.”  The coach load of tourists traipsed into the house as Clarissa walked over to the driver.” Thank you,” she grinned.

“My pleasure,” the coach driver grinned, baring his own gleaming fangs that he’d kept well hidden whilst duping the tourists onto his coach. “I’ll just park up in the garage and join the party, Mother.”  

656 

This week's Mid-week-blues-buster over at The Tsuruoka Files has given us a rather zany song which can be heard here http://youtu.be/KJzWGkgFcTU.  

A Merry Minion Christmas #AMMC-DFQ Christmas Preparations

                                               


My second entry into this year's (hoping it's an annual thing) A Merry Minion Blog Hop for the Dark Fairy Queen and her Minions. The hop has been organised by Laura over at Office Mango,  Missy over at marissaames,  Nick at talesfromatightrope and Ruth at bullishink.com. It is hoped the entries will form a gorgeous little anthology by those creative people over at blueharvestcreative.com. Enjoy my story and please, read all the other fantastical tales of Christmas by other fabulous authors by clicking on any of the links above.  x

Title: Christmas Preparations

Author: Lizzie Koch
eBook: Yes
Dedication: To everyone who enjoys Christmas and family time. This is for you. xx

Christmas Preparations

Evie and Leah had done a great job in foraging for holly and fir cones under the watchful eye of Ben. The pile sat on the table. Lisa heard her girls laughing as they cleaned up. Her girls’ laughter was infectious but a rarity these days. Looking at the table, Lisa thought back to the days when she was little and decorated fir cones in glitter for a table centre piece, using the holly to place carefully around thick cream candles. Sometimes she would decorate the candles with images of Father Christmas or angels. Angels were her favourite and at times, Lisa felt she had her own personal angel looking over her. She had to. After what she and her family had been through, had survived, here they were, ready to celebrate Christmas . . . if Lucas came home. There was always an if now.

Lisa wandered over to the boundary of their farm, the winter sun bright but weak in heat as it was every winter. But she was thankful for it as it brightened up an otherwise grey world. A light, cooling breeze rolled over her and brought with it the saltiness of the sea just a mile away. Straining her ears, she thought she heard the freedom of the waves crashing against the stony beach.

“Mum, do we have any glitter?”

“I don’t know Evie, you’ll have to look.” They’d only been at the farm for a month and trying to make it secure was priority rather than searching for arts and crafts. So far, the farmhouse was proving the sanctuary they needed; a greenhouse with seasonal fruits and vegetables, a thriving vegetable garden, two pigs which from the previous owners were pets going by the name plates on the pen; Salt and Pepper.  Once the boundary was secure, the farm made the ideal home.  With vehicles in good working order, they made runs to the nearby town and beyond.

“I’m sure the boys are fine,” Kelly said, joining Lisa at the fence. “They know exactly what they’re doing. I've turned the oven on ready.” Lisa loved Kelly’s optimism; better to have even a pinch of it in this new world rather than the bucket load of pessimism Lisa carried.

“Mum, look what I found,” Evie shouted, running from the house, carrying a plastic box. “It’s full of paints, glitter, sequins and look.” She held up a homemade angel made from a toilet roll, lace and an overload of cotton wool. 

“Can we put it on top of the tree?”

“Sure.” She wiped a tear. “Arg, this is so stupid! But I used to have a box like that. And now we’re using someone else’s memories, living in someone else’s home. It feels wrong.”

“The home was empty, like it was waiting for us. We need a home and to lead a normal life. It’s important for the kids. That’s all that matters.”

The sound of an engine and tyres on gravel made them both rigid; never knowing who was driving down towards the farm until the familiar blue truck came into view.

“Did you get the turkey?” Kelly asked as Lucas and Sam stepped from the truck.

“Not quite. But got us a chicken or two. They’re flapping in the sack,” Sam chuckled.

“You mean they’re alive? I can’t deal with that,” Lisa moaned.

“You’re gonna have to deal with a lot worse; there’s a group heading this way and I don’t mean chickens,” Lucas said, grabbing his holdall. “Get everyone ready.” He never used the zed word with Lisa. Even though they were in the midst of a zombie infestation, the zed word sent her into a blind panic and that wasn’t good to anyone despite face to zombie combat on many occasions.

“Couldn't you pick them off before you got here?” Lisa panicked.

“Too many. We’ll be fine here.” The group gathered as Lucas handed out weapons. With glitter covered hands, Evie grabbed her crude looking spear with ease and stood at her post as did Leah and Kelly’s teenage son, Ben.“Now remember, the head, you must aim for the head, twice to make sure. We've all got each other’s backs so the sooner we do this, the sooner Christmas starts. You good Lisa?” Lucas saw the determination in Lisa’s eyes but her shaking arm was evident. “I can see them. About twenty of them.” Lucas rushed back to the truck and surprised everyone as Christmas music blared out.

It didn’t matter what the circumstances, a blast of Slade wishing it was Christmas every day, lifted everyone’s spirit as zombies snarled and gnashed at the fence, clawing only air before dropping with a head split like a melon.

Silent Night drifted across the farm as the last zombie fell, piled high against the fence. Lucas walked over to Evie and Leah, both bloody but unharmed. Holding their hands, Lucas squeezed tight. “Good job girls,” he whispered, looking over to Lisa. “Seeing as you've just dispatched half a dozen zombies, I think you can handle the chickens,” he said grinning at her. “Come on girls, let’s start Christmas.   

852