Story Time: The Lake

Happy Birthday to my amazing husband Philip today. Have a brilliant day, darling.

Today's blog is going to be a short story again. This one is called The Lake and is a story of moving on, however difficult it might be...

Michael looked out across the lake. The deep blood red of the dying sun illuminated the water and the mountains overshadowing him. Next to him, the old tree was creaking in the gentle wind, almost as if it spoke to him. Michael closed his eyes for a moment, the orange of the sun still there, even behind his eye lids. His other senses awakened. He could hear the

birds calling to one another their final calls of the day. Insects were buzzing around him. He could smell the strong perfume of the pine trees around him, their fresh scent awakening within him an urge to stay here forever. The breeze lifted the hairs on his arms, tickled the back of his neck, made him shiver slightly. But the memories of the day crept up on him, forcing him to open his eyes again, to once again see the dying day.

“Michael, are you coming?” called Louise.

“Where are you going?” he asked, looking up from his book. She appeared in the doorway, already dressed in her coat and boots.

“Taking Shep for a walk. You want to come?”

“I guess I could,” he said, placing the bookmark carefully in his book. He heaved himself out of the chair and smiled at her as he stretched. “Is it still raining?”

“No, it’s beautiful out there. I thought we could go down to the lake? I haven’t been there yet and you always promised to take me.”

Michael thought about this for a moment, a moment too long as it happened. She scowled at him and then turned away, grabbing Shep’s collar and putting his lead on.

“Right,” she said. “Not the lake then. For somewhere that was so important to you, you sure seem reluctant to take me there.”

“It’s not important, Louise, it’s just that…” She looked at him expectantly and the words froze in his mind. How could he explain it? He shrugged.

“Oh forget it,” she snapped. “Go back to your book. I’ll take Shep out by myself.” With that, she stormed out of the house, slamming the door behind her. Michael’s dad had come into the room, to see what the noise was about.

“You ok, son?” he asked. Michael was still standing, looking towards the door.

“Fine, Dad, fine,” he said, sitting down.

“Cup of tea?” said his dad. Michael nodded, numbly and picked up his book. Fred went into the kitchen and did what he knew he shouldn’t; watched the kettle boil. When he took their teas through to the lounge he watched his son, who was staring at the open pages of his book. Five minutes later he was still staring at the same page.

“You know, son, it is just a place. When your mum died, I didn’t think I’d ever get over it and I guess in some ways I never have, but then I am old. I’ve had my life and been very privileged to have a beautiful wife and a good son. You are still young and Louise is wonderful. She doesn’t deserve to be shut out like this.”

Michael closed his book and picked up his cup of tea, agitated.

“I’m not shutting her out, Dad,” he said. “It’s just that she doesn’t understand. How could she? That place is… well, I don’t want to take her there. It would be too much.”

“But you still go there,” said his dad, softly. Michael looked up, sharply. He had thought his nocturnal wanderings were a secret. “Michael, you know I’m a light sleeper. Someone stamping round the house at gone twelve is bound to wake me up. You don’t even take the dog down there with you. Can’t you let it go?”

“Just tell me how to let it go,” he replied, in a whisper. Fred put down his cup of tea and leaned across towards his son, his eyes suddenly bright with tears.

“You have to work that out for yourself, Michael. This is not how it should be though. You should let go. You certainly should not turn the lake into some kind of prison for yourself where you can dwell in the past and ignore the more pressing concerns of the present.”

“Like Louise?” he said.

“Like Louise,” replied Fred, with a nod.

Several hours had passed and Louise had not come back. She had telephoned and spoke to Fred, telling him she was at a friend’s. When he tried to pass the phone to Michael, she hung up. Michael sighed and looked out across the still waters. The past caught up with him, suddenly.

Claire was beautiful. Her hair was deep auburn and shone like the sun. Her eyes were green and always sparkled with mischief. She was perfect for him, fiery and passionate, but she could be so gentle. When they were together, the world faded away, until there was just the two of them. The lake had been their special place. The place where they could hide from all their problems, from their ordinary everyday lives. Michael loved being here with her.

One day they had taken the boat out. It had been windy when they went out onto the water, but not too much so. As the hours passed, the wind got up, so much so that a storm blew up almost from nowhere. She had been fearless though and had laughed at his agitation. Then suddenly, the boat had lunged upwards and she had staggered and fallen overboard. He had dived in after her, but could not find her. The rescue services pulled him out and found her some time later. She was already dead when they brought her to land.

Michael closed his eyes. He could see her in his mind, a siren of the water. Somehow, her spirit seemed to live on in this place. He could sense her presence all around him when he was here. But he loved Louise. She was dark haired, dark eyed, gentle, caring and as passionate as Claire had been. She loved him too, deeply and had never been afraid to show it. That was why she was so hurt that he would not show her the lake. He had told her how beautiful it was and how special it was to him, but never what had happened there. She knew his fiancée had died, but not how. What if she left him now, because of their silly misunderstanding earlier on?

Suddenly he heard a yap behind him. He turned round, wiping his eyes hastily. Louise smiled at him, a little sheepishly.

“No sneaking up on people with him around, eh?” she said. Michael walked towards her and flung his arms round her. She held him close to her, as Shep trotted round them, sniffing at their legs, jumping up until they paid him some attention too.

“I’m sorry, Louise,” he murmured.

“I know, sweetheart, I know. I wish you’d told me. Fred said you’d be here. He explained things. She must have been very special.”

“She was,” he said. He kissed her gently. “But you are too.”

Across the lake, something stirred gently in the air, watching as Michael and Louise walked away towards the house, arm in arm. Something watched and smiled, before vanishing into the mist.

Hope you all enjoyed it :-)

A Short Story: The Chalice

Hey everyone! I was looking through some of my old stories that I wrote for a creative writing course I did a few years ago and thought I might publish some of them on this blog. They were a lot of fun to write and I hope you will enjoy reading them!

The first is a creepy little story I wrote called The Chalice...

The darkness is heavy, bearing down on me as if it seeks to crush me. The wind blusters around, catching at my hood, tearing it from my head, rendering it useless upon my back. The rain lashes down, running in rivulets down my cheeks, camouflaging the tears that would fall alone. My breath is coming in short gasps, my legs walking as quickly as they can, without straining to a run. The chalice is clasped, close to my chest, held tight against my thumping heart. I am alone, completely alone, yet I feel his eyes watching me, following my every step.

I seek the path that runs between the school and the cemetery; there perhaps I might be sheltered. Finally, I slow my pace, giving in to the violent weather that assaults me anyway, however quickly I move, seeking to escape its fury. The moon appears from behind a cloud, lighting the path suddenly. Through the fence and the bushes that grow to my left, I see the gravestones, bathed in moonlight, ethereal and strangely beautiful, gleaming with rainwater. To my right a high wall stands, blocking the path from the secondary school which lies unseen beyond it.

Eyes watching me. The wind whistles through the bushes suddenly and I hear a cry escape my lips. I imagine he is there standing, watching, taunting, but surely I am alone. The wind bites at me, viciously, flushing my cheeks with it strength. I am pelted suddenly with a barrage of water, blown from the trees that hang over the path like a tunnel. My eyes flit to the left and I see the graveyard illuminated in a sudden burst of light that makes my skin crawl with terror. All around me he is watching, seeing what I am doing, hearing what my thoughts are. I must return this chalice or be forever condemned. And still the weather punishes me, screaming rebukes at me.

***

“I don’t think we should be here, Rob,” I said, softly, my eyes darting around the crypt. Rob paused long enough to glare at me, and then turned his attention back to the box.

“Just hold the torch steady, Jo,” he said, from gritted teeth. I tried to stop the trembling that convulsed my body and prevented me from doing what he asked, focusing my attention on his hands as they worked swiftly with his little tools to break the lock.

Rob was the boss of our gang; he always had been, from the days when we terrorised our nursery by taking toys from other children and hiding them. He was one of the most intelligent people I had ever met, but he was also one of the coldest. He felt nothing, ever. Even now, breaking the lock on a box held in the vaults of the chapel, he felt nothing; or if he did he kept it well hidden from me. I shivered, making the torch jolt violently and he glared up at me again, getting to his feet.

“Just hold it still will you?” he snapped. I took a step back, but we were interrupted by Jake, who was standing watch on the door.

“Hurry up Rob,” he said. “There’s a guy wandering around. I reckon he’s putting flowers down, but he might come here afterwards. If you can’t get into it, just bring the whole thing.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” said Rob. “It weighs a ton and I don’t need the whole thing. I just want what’s mine. Now, Jo, hold that damned torch steady and then we can get this done and get out of here.”

“Sooner the better, mate. This place is really beginning to creep me out,” said Jake, with a shudder.

“Idiot,” muttered Rob, as Jake headed back to the door. He knelt back beside the box and I held the torch obligingly in place. Rob gave a cry of triumph as the lock suddenly sprung back and he opened the lid. I looked over his shoulder, curiously, to see a mishmash of objects, old robes wrapped around a variety of gold and silver items. There were jewelled chalices, crosses and other such artifacts. Rob’s fingers touched them all. He searched until he came upon a small bundle. He took it out and unwrapped it, revealing a tiny gold cross hung on a chain. I stared at it wordlessly; it was so simple, yet so beautiful.

“It belonged to my great grandmother,” said Rob. “My Nan always said the church stole it from her before she was buried, even told me where it was, but I never really believed it until that priest was talking about this box the other week at school.”

I recalled the wizened figure of the old priest standing in the hall, as we sat restlessly at sixth form assembly, bored as he rambled on about the history of the chapel. Rob must have paid more attention than I had.

“Can we go now, Rob?” I asked. Rob looked up at me, a smile on his face. I smiled back, tentatively, as he got to his feet. He slipped an arm round my shoulders and laughed.

“This place worry you, Jo?” he asked. I nodded and held my breath until he let go of me, kneeling once again to close the box. He pushed it back against the wall and then strode past me to the tiny staircase we had come in through. As we got to the bottom though, I heard Jake, coughing loudly. That was the signal that we should not come back upstairs. Rob grabbed my arm and pulled me back into the shadows, bringing a finger to his lips. I felt a rush of fear. Now that he had what he was looking for, I wanted to get out of here. The adrenaline rush of breaking into this place was gone, replaced with irrational fear at the thought of sharing the depths of the earth with the corpses that were buried all around us. Rob kept his eyes on the stairs, a slight smile on his face. I was sure he knew I was afraid and did not care. His eyes suddenly shifted to the box. He crossed the room, silently, taking the torch from me. He shone it on the box again and opened the lid. He took the chalice from the top; a silver one with a gemstone decoration along its base. He held it to the light and smirked, then nodded. I shook my head, desperately, but he ignored me. When he reached my side I went to speak, but he grabbed my arm and shook his head. Silent tears filled my eyes. This was wrong; taking back his great grandmother’s cross was different somehow.

From outside, I heard a crash of thunder, as if the heavens themselves rebuked us for what he had done. I felt suddenly as if a huge weight had fixed itself to my heart. I met Rob’s arrogant smile with a glare, suddenly angry at him for putting us both in this position.

“Alright, guys, up you come,” called Jake. I shook Rob’s hand from me and stormed up the stairs ahead of him.

“What’s her problem?” I heard Jake ask.

“I don’t know; time of the month?” suggested Rob. He laughed out loud as he showed Jake the chalice. I headed out of the chapel door, straight into the storm. Lightning flashed overhead, lighting up the graveyard, eerily. Thunder rumbled, darkly, as if condemning what we had done. I shivered, involuntarily and stepped back, straight into a solid mass of flesh. I gave a cry of fear, but then heard Rob’s laugh.

“Come on, Jo,” he said. “It’s only me. Calm down, will you? Let’s go.”

He led the way out of the graveyard. I looked back just once and saw the man who had disturbed us in the chapel standing, watching. Even from a distance, it seemed his eyes accused us; knew what we had done. Superstition welled up within me; it was surely wrong to steal from a chapel.

Three days later there was an article in the paper, briefly describing a break in at the chapel; a box opened and a chalice taken. There was no mention of the cross, so tiny that it probably lay forgotten about for years before we took it. The chalice though was more important. It had been the gift of a wealthy landlord over a hundred years ago, said to have been donated because he had been condemned to hang for the murder of one of his workers and he wanted to make peace with God. We had stolen that peace.

***

The storm continues to rage around me, complaining loudly. Tears are streaming freely down my cheeks, as I find the gate to the cemetery. I push the gate open and try to swallow my terror. The chalice is tucked in my coat, protected from the elements. Rob and Jake don’t know; they would be furious. The chapel door is already unlocked, banging in the wind. I force myself to enter, to approach the altar.  In the shadows, I feel his eyes watching me. Oddly, I no longer feel threatened by the figure I can sense rather than see standing in the corner, just beyond the altar, watching my every move.  I stand before it and take the chalice from my coat. I hold it out before me and place it on the altar, before the crucifix.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, to no one in particular. Outside the storm dies down and within me my own tempest is calmed. The shadowy figure, standing at the altar fades away and I step back, out into the moonlit night, suddenly clear and cool, the clouds broken and parted as if they never were. I pull down my hood and a lightness touches my soul, as I leave the cemetery and the ghosts of the past behind me.

Hope you all enjoyed it! Have a lovely weekend x

The Vampire Now Published!

I am pleased to announce that The Vampire, Book Four of The Light, The Dark & The Blood has now been published and is available on Amazon Kindle! It is the last in the series and marks the end of a story ten years in the making. I am a little sad to say goodbye to the characters but it is very satisfying to know I have finished the story. I really hope everyone out there has enjoyed reading the story as much as I have enjoyed writing it. The next project is in the pipeline; I have a few ideas floating around at the moment so watch this space...

For now, you can get your copy of The Vampire now on Amazon (links below).

Vampires do not sleep; they do not dream, but Robert Thorn has been sleeping and his dreams have been disturbing images of a past both real and imagined. Worse his dreams leave him craving blood; Human blood. As his family try to keep the Dark Angels from leaving Electissimus, Robert delays returning there, afraid to confront the demons of his past. But Robert has a destiny which he must follow, whatever the cost...

http://www.amazon.com/Vampire-Light-Dark-Blood-ebook/dp/B008ACYDM6/ref=sr_1_8?ie=UTF8&qid=1339442614&sr=8-8

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Vampire-Light-Dark-Blood-ebook/dp/B008ACYDM6/ref=sr_1_9?ie=UTF8&qid=1339442651&sr=8-9

http://www.amazon.it/Vampire-Light-Dark-Blood-ebook/dp/B008ACYDM6/ref=sr_1_7?ie=UTF8&qid=1339442702&sr=8-7

http://www.amazon.de/Vampire-Light-Dark-Blood-ebook/dp/B008ACYDM6/ref=sr_1_8?ie=UTF8&qid=1339442739&sr=8-8

http://www.amazon.fr/The-Vampire-ebook/dp/B008ACYDM6/ref=sr_1_8?ie=UTF8&qid=1339442772&sr=8-8

http://www.amazon.es/Vampire-Light-Dark-Blood-ebook/dp/B008ACYDM6/ref=sr_1_8?ie=UTF8&qid=1339442807&sr=8-8

The End of The Light, The Dark & The Blood

Today I will be packing away the notebooks, all six of them and filing away the numerous word documents that have held the pieces that when I put them together made up The Light, The Dark & The Blood. Because I have completed The Vampire, the final book in the series and it is now with my wonderful proof reader.

About ten years ago, I started writing a story called The Vampire, about a priest who was fighting against a powerful Vampire who had taken over the world. In that story, which I never completed, the priest worked closely with a woman who had been hunting Vampires. I gave up on the story because there always seemed to be something missing and started another one, about a little girl who grew up in a garden of roses, protected from the world around her with no idea of how powerful she was. Again, I gave up on the story because it felt like it was going nowhere.

Then one day I had a flash of inspiration, a boy running through the woods, chased by an unknown aggressor and Robert Thorn was born. As his story started to take shape, I looked through my old files and found the priest and the girl, which gave me two more characters; Ethan and Beth Hart. I began to wonder how I could draw these stories together and then it occurred to me that they could be the descendants of Robert Thorn, who was an immortal in my imaginings and who became a Vampire who could be so much more...

I took elements of Robert's story and wove them into a fable that I posted on Fan Fiction which was reasonably popular and then the fragments I had started to pull together came to life. I am eternally grateful to the wonderful FF community for their support when The Girl was available on the site and it was with some reluctance that I withdrew it. Unfortunately not everyone could understand that the story on the site was only the fragments of a much more in depth original story that I had already started writing ten years previously.  I won't dwell too much on that though; there have been a far greater number of supportive people out there, like credaroza, Tonya, Nico & LaPamuckl, all of whom have been unfailing in their support which has been greatly appreciated.

Moving swiftly on, coming to the end of a project which I have worked on for so long brings a range of emotions. I swear I cried through the last ten chapters as I wrote them, because they were very emotional and because I knew it was coming to an end. As I say goodbye to Robert Thorn and his family it is with some satisfaction, but also with some sadness. I really hope everyone that reads the books enjoys reading them as much as I have enjoyed writing them.

Look out for The Vampire, the last of The Light, The Dark & The Blood, available soon from Amazon Kindle.