Lynette Ferreira

The Dark, Dark House Statistics Page

2012-02-06T02:33:00.000-08:00

The Dark, Dark House was first published to Smashwords.com on the 25th of September 2010 for FREE

Reviews for The Dark, Dark House on Smashwords.com

Review by: Cristoforo Colombo on Sep. 20,2011 : (3 star rating)

This is decent flash fiction. Theforeshadowing with all the modifiers is relatively simplistic and not pleasantreading. The latter half of the story flows fairly well.

(review of free book)

Review by: John Hansen on Aug. 12, 2011: (4 star rating)

Though the beginning was painful, thisflash fiction story was excellent. It was gripping, ominous, creepy, unusualbut very cool. I would recommend this, though the dark, dark house in the dark,dark room (sentences like that) gets on my nerves after a while. But after yousurvive the first page, it is great. I am a brand new flash fiction writerhere, and I now realize that I'm up against some tough competition. Well done.

(review of free book)

Review by: Roberta Beach Jacobson on June12, 2011 : (5 star rating)

Most unusual read. I enjoyed. Thank you.

(review of free book)

Review by: Elizabeth Bookworm on March 30,2011 : (4 star rating)

I found the end shocking. The beginning wasa bit repetitive, but I realised in the end why.

(review of free book)

The Dark, Dark House was subsequently distributed through Smashwords' channels to:

Barnes & Noble
As at February 06, 2012 the Sales Rank at Barnes and Noble is 14,951 - 9 Ratings (average 1 star rating)

Apple iTunes

Review by Michelle Allen

This book was really good and it alwayskept me thinking, "what's going to happen next? I just wish it was longerso I could keep reading this amazing book.

Overall ratings at iBooks on February 6, 2012 is 15 Ratings(average 3 star rating)

Diesel eBooks

Sales Rank as at February 6, 2012 is 3363

I submitted The Dark, Dark House to Kindle Books South Africa and it was accepted and added to their online store in August 2011.

In August 2011, I decided to publish The Dark, Dark House to Amazon. I completed the information about a lower price being available, and so it was offered for FREE on Amazon.com

As at 6th February 2012, the Current Sales Rank on Amazon.com is 1,300 in Kindle Store and #18 in Kindle Store > Kindle eBooks >Fiction > Short Stories

The Dark Dark House has remained in the top 1,800 downloads for 5 consecutive months. The sharp decline (hereunder) is when Amazon was charging $0.99c per download instead of the recommended RRP of $0.00

Reviews from Amazon.com (In these reviews you will note that these reviewers obviously did not like my story, which is contradictory to the amount of times it has been downloaded)

2.0 out of 5 stars Reminds me of a badjoke, August 14, 2011

By Beth Kristen Nehme "BookLover" (Miami,FL) - (TOP 1000 REVIEWER)

I found this short short story a littleoff-putting. The beginning was kind of comic, like a children's book, with therepetion of 'dark dark' over and over again. That made the ending a ratherabrupt shock that I didn't like. Other than this, there was no plot and nocharacter development - so the whole point was to draw me in to give thatshock, and I didn't enjoy it.

3.0 out of 5 stars 6 clipping limit,September 9, 2011

By Allison

If you like to review your notes atkindle.amazon.com, you should know that this short story has a 6 clippinglimit.

The Dark, Dark House by Lynette Ferreira

You have 7 highlighted passages but we canonly show 6 of them.

What's this?

For some books the publisher allows only alimited percentage of a book to be "clipped" and stored separatelyfrom the main body of the book, as normally happens when you add a highlight.If you exceed this limit then you will see fewer highlights on this websitethan you actually marked on your Kindle. Popular Highlights are not countedtowards this clipping limit.

That being said, I have to agree with someof the other reviewers that this short story feels much like a classroomassignment in Creative Writing 101. I've notice a lit of the recent flashfiction feels this way. Maybe I just don't really appreciate the concept.

But this one didn't make the list of booksI want to keep around, in case I want to refer to them again.

1.0 out of 5 stars This made me feel dumb,September 4, 2011

By A. Lee

I'm not an idiot but this was so incoherentthat I felt like I was. If I didn't know it was flash fiction I wouldn't havemade it past sentence 3. Repetition is fun for effect but what was this? Itcould have gotten interesting at one spot but then it was over and it made nosense. I don't like leaving bad reviews for anything. I feel bad. But peopleneed to know that this makes no sense and is pointless. If it wasn't free I'dbe returning it.

2.0 out of 5 stars Incomplete and choppy,August 15, 2011

By S. Richards (Deep South) -(TOP 500 REVIEWER)

This is flash fiction and you do expect itto be quick or brief, but this story was more like an incomplete thought. Itstutters along in the beginning with the forced repetition of the descriptor'dark,' really adding an unneccessary stumbling block to the actual flow of thestory. This staged writing device contributed no real value to the execution ofthe story, and once that 'dark, dark' was finally dropped in favor of a morenatural storytelling voice, it was a little too late, feeling almost as if twostory techniques were mish-mashed together in this very confined space of maybe40 locations. And as for the ending, it wasn't a good enough pay-off. Thisstory, its theme and execution, could benefit from a good reworking.

1.0 out of 5 stars dark dark house, October23, 2011

By peggy sue "peggy" (oregon)

this was the stupidest book i have everread i thought it was to be scary not even that oh well u rate no stars sorry

1.0 out of 5 stars Dumb, September 19, 2011

By Stephanie L. Davison"cloudtoucher" (North Carolina, USA)

My friend's 7-year-old son could tell abetter story. What was this supposed to be--funny, creepy? What?

Good thing it was free the day I got itbecause I would be feeling seriously swindled if I'd paid money for thisgarbage.

2.0 out of 5 stars A very strange story,August 20, 2011

By S. Warfield (Maryland) (TOP 1000 REVIEWER)

Even though this is flash fiction, Iexpected the story to be better. The beginning starts out "in a dark, darkhouse, there is a dark, dark..." and it continues with the dark, darks forquite a while. I thought that was very much overdone and it sounded like achildren's story at first.

The middle of the story is better, makingmore sense, and has some fairly good descriptions of what is in different areasof this house as the narrator describes them. However, the entire story is verydark, or maybe I should say it's a dark, dark story for sure.

The ending is quite surprising and I'm notreally sure what it means in relation to the rest of the story. I think if thiswas reworked it could be a much better story.

3.0 out of 5 stars Bad, bad beginning;good, good middle; bad, bad ending, August 17, 2011

By JJ - (VINE VOICE) (TOP 500 REVIEWER)

Although I do think that this story couldhave been really good, I'm afraid it fell just a little too short for me. Likeanother reviewer said, the words "dark, dark" are used overwhelminglyin the first part of this story (which is basically a paragraph since the storyis so short). It was as if the dark, dark author was using a dark, darkadjective everywhere she could in every dark, dark sentence. By the time thatparagraph was done, everything was running together. My head was reeling a bit,too. However, once we get into the middle of the story, the author really takesoff, describing everything in excellent detail. It was as if she was having todescribe a page from an "I Spy" book, and she most certainly did agood job of giving us readers a mental picture of his house. Unfortunately, theending, once again, disappointed. I really thought the author had such a goodball rolling before simply dropping it. What was the ending supposed to conveyto the reader? I have several ideas, but it would have been nice for the authorto lengthen it out just a little bit more and create a truly superb story. Asthis story is right now, though, it's very short but doesn't seem to have apurpose. It doesn't engulf the reader in a full plot or idea, and some of thewriting at the beginning is definitely distracting. If you want to read it, itwill only take up about two minutes of your time, but I'd still recommendskipping it and searching for a better flash fiction story.

3.0 out of 5 stars A nice short descriptionof a house in haunting language, August 26, 2011

By Israel Drazin (Boca Raton, Florida) - (TOP 1000 REVIEWER) (VINE VOICE)

This is a nice short description of a housedepicted in haunting language such as the following portrayal of a doll in amusic box. "The tiny ballerina teetering on one skinny leg, her legsforming the shape of a four, spins round and round, round and round. Herscrawny arms stretched high above her head, criss-crossing awkwardly. Herplastic blonde hair tied in a bun behind her head. Her green eyes are too bigfor her face, and her lips scarlet red."

1.0 out of 5 stars Poor preview, August 17,2011

By Avid Reader - See all my reviews (this is the ONLY review by this reviewer???)

The name on the book was fairly interestingso I thought I'd take a look inside to see what it was about. Imagine mysurprise to find that the preview was a single page with just the title of thebook and nothing else!

I would expect any author who was proud ofhis/her work to provide at least the first page or so as a preview, or even ataster of one of the more interesting excerpts of the book so as to engage theinterest of a prospective reader/customer.

This product, however, has none of thesefeatures and additionally even the cover looks unprofessional. Therefore, basedon such a pathetically poor preview and cover, I guess there's not much pointto downloading the book since the book is likely to be as poor as its preview.

The Sales Rank for The Dark, Dark House asat February 6, 2012 on Amazon.co.uk is #138,843 Paid in Kindle Store

To date The Dark, Dark House

has been downloaded 8,108 times

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Ednor Scardens by Kathleen Barker

2012-02-05T12:48:00.000-08:00

Through the testing of allegiances, moraltemptations, inevitable gathering of courage, and the everyday crucibles that ayoung heart must endure, readers will fall in love with 11 year old KateFitzgerald.

Bestselling coming of age drama fromFantasy Island Book Publishing through Amazon

When the boob fairy makes an early visit insixth grade, eleven-year-old Kate Fitzgerald is unprepared for therepercussions.

Her puppy-love relationship with classmate Gabe Kelsey quicklyblossoms. But her carefree days in Catholic school darken with the arrival ofFather John O'Conner, a predatory priest with a hidden past.

Life becomes evenmore tangled when Kate falls hard for Gabe's darkly handsome older brother,Michael. The Kelsey boys couldn't be more different: one is shy andself-effacing; the other is tall, athletic, and confident.

As the brothersbattle for Kate’s affections, how will she choose without tearing their familyapart? When she silently witnesses a frightening scene between Gabe and Fr.O'Conner, Kate is unaware that she is O'Conner's intended next victim.

With hermother distracted by the strain of providing for her daughter, and agrandmother uncannily tuned in to her feelings, Kate struggles to navigate theunwanted attention from older boys and men, while trying to sort through thequestionable counsel of her too-worldly best friend, Anita.

Comical adventureslend relief to Kate’s dark struggles, especially when friends share theirrefreshingly naive observations about growing up. The tragic death of aclassmate brings the group face-to-face with mortality, shattering their facadeof invincibility.

Paperback: 320 pages
Publication Date: October 16, 2011
Language: English
ISBN-13: 978-0615539218

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Review: Last Seen Wearing Trainers by Rosie Rushton

2012-02-05T05:30:00.000-08:00

Katie’s momis a drunk and abusive. Her mom shoves her down the stairs, but still Katieconvinces herself that her mom loves her. One day, after a violent fight, Katieruns out of the house and this is when she meets Joe. Joe convinces Katie torun away with him, so that her mom can be punished and mend her ways.

Katie has ayounger brother, Tom, who is autistic and although he knows what has happenedto Katie, he cannot find a way to tell anybody.

In themiddle of the story, you understand why Joe convinced her to really run away, evenbefore Katie does, but this does not deter from the story, because it isn’tdragged out.

All thistime Katie’s mom has been running away from her past and taking her guilt outon Katie.

This storywas written from the point of view of four different characters and is such asad, sad story. Last Seen Wearing Trainers is written in such an emotional,powerful manner that at times I could not help crying.

I have to face it - the secret’s out; thesecret I have spent the last fifteen years trying to hide. Fifteen years in whichI’ve avoided going anywhere that He might be, fifteen years of lying andpretending and praying that things will be all right.

But God always has the last word, doesn’t He?

BookDescription:

A grippingteenage novel from this provocative and best-selling writer, now available inpaperback. It all seemed like such a good idea at the time; a plan that wouldpunish Mum for what she'd done and make me happy for the first time in ages. Ishould have realised; the warnings were staring me in the face. But it's funnywhat you don't notice when you want so very much to believe in something andsomeone. You can go on kidding yourself for ages - until that moment when yourealise that your life is on the line. That's when you discover the realmeaning of love - and sometimes it's not at all what you expect.

Availableat Amazon.com

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SUBJECT FWD: New Cover

2012-01-31T06:21:00.000-08:00

Are you brave enough to delete a spam mailthat promises death when you delete it?

Marlene never gave it a second thought andthat night she had an uninvited visitor.

A race against time starts to stop the evilthat will kill everyone who deleted the message.

Subject FWD is a Horror Fiction about spamemails that promise you wealth and fortune when you forward them, heartache anddespair when you delete them.

You can buy a copy for download to yourdevice at

Smashwords
Amazon.com

(The wheel is still turning, so it shouldbe available at Kobo, Apple iBooks, Diesel ebooks, Barnes & Noble (Nook Books) and Sony Reader Store by next week)

Awesome review at www.bookstackreviews.com

♥

Recycled Souls: The Evolution of a Book Cover

2012-01-30T09:49:00.000-08:00

In 2009 I published Recycled Souls with Lulu in paperback. In 2009 e-book(ing) was not so popular as now, and was still in its infancy. I sold 16 copies of this paperback copy (sadly not one of them was bought by my family or any of my friends)

In 2010 I discovered Createspace, Amazon Breakthrough Novel Awards and the wonder of the e-book. I proceeded to publish Recycled Souls to Kindle and re-published in print with Createspace. Recycled Souls by now grew with 20,000 words and had to be re-published.

With this edition, Recycled Souls reached the quarterfinal stage of ABNA 2010 and can proudly stand amongst the top 250 entries from 5,000 in the Young Adult Category.

In 2011, I published to Smashwords and decided that the cover needs updating. This cover brought in a steady growth of e-book downloads over a period of six months.

In August of 2011, Fantasy Island Book Publishing approached me and offered me a publishing agreement. The cover was changed to the following in anticipation to the new paper book which would have been available within a couple of months. However, circumstances beyond anybody's control prevented this from happening (and you know me - everything always happens for a good reason) This cover was created and designed by the talented Claire Chilton (Author of Whatever became of the Squishies).

Although I own the copyright to the cover below, it was decided by my publishing company that the cover be changed.

Then in December 2011 the current cover was launched and this will also be the print book cover and Kindle / Nook cover. The cover was designed and created by the creative Ceri Clark (Author of Children of the Elementi).

The copyright is owned by Fantasy Island Book Publishing.

As I am also still self-published through Smashwords

(to make available other popular e-reader applications world-wide) I have kept the cover separate from that of my publisher Fantasy Island Book Publishing. This cover was designed and created by a student from Design School South Africa, TSDesigns (as she likes to call herself) and I own the copyright exclusively.

With all the changes in covers, it is difficult to keep up with all my own editions (on Goodreads it is reported that I have 20 editions *gasp*) and here is hoping that these last two covers will remain

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Brother Betrayed by Danielle Raver

2012-01-28T05:17:00.000-08:00

An epic fantasy is now available in print from Fantasy Island Book Publishing through Amazon

"One brother will betray the others with such treachery that it will change the destiny of Miscia forever."
The three princes hear this prophecy, and they will discover how far it will drive them to explore love, loyalty, and their own souls.

The princes are bound by loyalty to each other and their kingdom. When conflict comes to their land, their ascension into power is darkened by betrayal.
Oman, eldest and Anteria's promised king, leads his brothers on their journey through Arnith.
Fasime, driven by passion, seeks a life of romance and adventure.
Syah, born the ailing youngest brother of these two outgoing princes, endeavours to overcome his bleak destiny through pursuit of knowledge and magic... a quest that may reveal unknown power within his own soul.

A tale woven with deception, war, sacrifice, and magic, BROTHER, BETRAYED takes readers to a troubled kingdom surrounded by barbarians, magical races, and forbidden boundaries.

Paperback: 348 pages

Publication Date: September 24, 2011

Language: English

ISBN-13: 978-0615533438

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Review: Devoured by Amanda Marrone

2012-01-24T22:43:00.000-08:00

Meganapplies for a summer job at the Land of Enchantment so that she can be closerto her boyfriend, Ryan and his best (girl)friend Sam.

Sam told Ryan that he was hersoul mate and Ryan always brings Sam along whenever Megan and he goes anywhere.

Remy, Megan’s sister died at the age of seven in a car accident and Megan’s dadhas been in a coma since then, as well.

From the day Remy died, she has been haunting Megan, but now Remy becomes more agitated and appears more frequently.

Megan meets Luke, who can also see Remy.

Remy warns Megan that a girl is going to die, by showing her visions of a girl lying in a forest with her heart cut from her chest.

I loved theway an old fairy tale, Snow White, was incorporated into the story and theconcept that the magic mirror from this ancient tale could resurface in moderntimes, never ever crossed my mind.

Although Ienjoyed this story, the drama was a little too dragged out. I do not enjoy astory, where you as a reader have already figured out the outcome in the SecondChapter, yet the main character in the story struggles to realise this basic factuntil the last few chapters. I know it is supposed to create tension and tokeep you reading, but it frustrates me and for me it hinders the story.

Book Description:

Megan hasbeen haunted by the ghost of her twin sister, Remy, since the accident nineyears ago. Megan doesn't want anyone to think she's crazy, so she keeps thislittle "talent" to herself. But when she meets Luke at her summer joband discovers he can see ghosts too, she's thrilled. Finally, someone who canrelate...and, even better, can possibly help Remy move on. Megan's not evenworried about the fact that Luke's supercute and nice, because of course she'stotally into her boyfriend (even though he's been spending way too much timewith another girl). And she definitely didn't mean to kiss Luke (especiallysince her friend has a thing for him). Messy much?

But whenthe visions Remy haunts Megan with get crazy violent, Megan must turn to Luketo figure out what her twin is trying to say. Because someone's definitely indanger...she's just not sure who.

Available for purchase at Amazon: Devoured by Amanda Marrone

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The Last Good Knight by Connie J. Jasperson

2012-01-20T23:10:00.000-08:00

An exciting full-fledged fantasy that will keep you reading until the last word, and leave you wanting for more. A paperback from Fantasy Island Book Publishing through Amazon

Swashbucklers, pirates, sword fighting courageous Knights and Fairmaidens abound in The Last Good Knight.

From slaying dragons, to rescuing the King'sWhore, to secret missions for good King Henri, no job is too big or too smallfor the Great Knight, Sir Julian Lackland.

But what happens when the only onestill willing to take on the bad jobs is too old to be doing them? How does ahero retire from the business of saving people?

Here begins the tale of thelife and adventures of the peoples Champion. Invincible on both the field ofbattle and the bedroom, Lackland is a man of intense passion, the highesthonor, and deepest loyalties. A mercenary, a bold warrior and a brillianttactician, he is at times reckless beyond comprehension, and often suicidal;throwing himself into both battle and love with his entire being.

His heart isforever given to one woman, but she will never give up the sword, not even forhim and her choices leave Lackland with no choices whatsoever. Despite the lackof resolution in his personal life, he somehow endures; his innate sense of theridiculous, wry wit and humor concealing the fragile man that is JulianLackland.

Paperback: 310 pages

Publication Date: July 18, 2011

Language: English

ISBN-13: 978-0615515045

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Review: The Painted Man by Peter V. Brett

2012-01-20T07:09:00.000-08:00

In afantasy world where demons rise at night - rock demons, fire demons, waterdemons and air demons the inhabitants of this world hide behind wards at night.Wards are intricate patterns painted by Warders and forms a magical barrierwhere through the demons cannot pass. Tales are told of a Deliverer who livedcenturies ago and fought against the demons. There are five Free Cities, andeach has their abundance of a certain commodity, which is sought after byanother Free City.

The PaintedMan tells the tale of Arlen (with a dream to become a Messenger), Rojan (with adream to become a fabled Jongleur) and Leesha (destined to be an Herb Gatherer).They eventually come together and in an epic last stand against evil. Theyteach the people of this world that they are able to fight and they need notcower in fear every night.

I tend toshy away from books, which have more than 300 pages, because the story (for me)becomes long-winded. However, when I read the last word of The Painted Man, Iwished that it wasn’t finished.

My firstfull-fledged fantasy, I am now hooked on this genre.

BookSynopsis:-

Thestunning debut fantasy novel from author Peter V. Brett. The Painted Man, bookone of the Demon trilogy, is a captivating and thrilling fantasy adventure,pulling the reader into a world of demons, darkness and heroes. Voted one ofthe top ten fantasy novels of 2008 by amazon.co.uk. Sometimes there is verygood reason to be afraid of the dark! Arlen lives with his parents on theirsmall farmstead, half a day's ride from the isolated hamlet of Tibbet's Brook.As dusk falls each evening, a mist rises from the ground promising death to anyfoolish enough to brave the coming darkness. For hungry demons materialize fromthe vapours to feed, and as the shadows lengthen, all of humanity is forced totake shelter behind magical wards and pray that their protection holds untilthe dawn. But when Arlen's world is shattered by the demon plague, he realizesthat it is fear, rather than the monsters, which truly cripples humanity. Onlyby conquering their own terror can they ever hope to defeat the demons. NowArlen must risk leaving the safety of his wards to discover a different path,and offer humanity a last, fleeting chance of survival.

Availablefor purchase at Amazon: The Painted Man by Peter V. Brett

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Stranger than Fiction

2012-01-15T05:57:00.000-08:00

Do you remember that movie: Stranger than Fiction which came out in 2006 and the synopsis went like this:

Harold Crick (Will Farrell) is an IRS auditor who almost compulsively measures, quantifies and rationalizes his life. Suddenly, he becomes aware of a voice narrating his life, "accurately and with a better vocabulary." The voice is that of a writer we learn is struggling with writer's block (Emma Thompson), mostly about the best way to make Harold die. When Harold overhears his impending doom, he takes action, and eventually makes his way to a professor of literary theory (Dustin Hoffman), who helps him understand the implications of the narrative life he is leading. The main story line seems to be around a woman he is auditing, played by Maggie Gyllenhaal. Realizing he could die at any moment, Harold begins to break free of his limited, orderly life, and joins Gyllenhaal in a romantic relationship. He tracks down Thompson and confronts her with the truth: if she writes about his death, then he will die. But Hoffman is convinced the novel must be written as intended, and Thompson herself is ambivalent. Crick himself reads the novel and encourages her to keep the original ending, which would kill him. Eventually, Thompson writes of the fatal accident, but makes the accident only near-fatal. "If you have someone who willingly, knowingly, goes to his death, well...isn't that the kind of person you want to keep alive?" In the end, there is an ode to Harold, Maggie, Dustin, and most of all, Harold's wristwatch.

I watched it again this morning and it had a profound impact on me. I diverted my creativity from writing business documents to fiction in 2008, so I saw this movie for the first time long before I considered myself to be an aspiring author.

All authors will know that when you have an idea and you start writing the story which is crawling around that space in your head, and once that story progresses past 5,000 words the characters become a part of you. You feel and live through them. When they cry, you cry. When they laugh, you laugh. So, while I was watching this movie again, I could not help considering the characters in my stories. Perhaps William from William the Damned did not want to sacrifice everything for love. Maybe Elizabeth did not want that specific happy ending in Recycled Souls and I forcefully pushed them into the direction their lives progressed. Sad really, when I come to think of it!

I can only hope that the characters in my stories are happy with the lives they lived through my fingers and from the flow of my thoughts.

♥

Sin by Shaun Allan

2012-01-14T04:51:00.000-08:00

A must read Psychological Thriller paper book from Fantasy Island Book Publishing through Amazon.

What would you do? Could you kill a killer? Does the death of one appease the deaths of a hundred? What about that hundred against a thousand?

What if you had no choice?

Meet Sin. No, not that sort of sin, but Sin, crazy as a loon (you ask Sister Moon), and proud of it. Sin locks himself away in a mental home and, every so often, gets violent. That’s only so they’ll give him those nice drugs, though. The ones that help him forget.

It’s a pity they don’t work.

Sin, you see, has a serious problem. Well, it’s not so much his problem, as ours – yours, mine and everyone else’s. People die around him. He doesn't like it and he can't help it. But someone else knows, and he has to stop them... and himself...

Flip and catch...

Paperback: 306 pages
Publication Date: October 28, 2011
Language: English
ISBN-13: 978-0615562001

♥

Excerpt from William the Damned (William, a Vampire Pirate Trilogy)

2012-01-10T22:25:00.000-08:00

FOREWORD

The square-rigger, weighing ninety tons, glides across the still waters, towed along with the tides. The waves lap at its sides lazily, while seagulls swoop languidly onto its deck. The sun beats down upon it relentlessly.
Should another boat pass it, it would look like a ghost ship, with not a soul upon its deck. However, should the innocent passerby, happen to board the ship and proceed down to its lower levels, a sight of great horror would await such a wretched person. For below the deck there is a sight beyond believe, fifty men and woman dead upon their backs.
Their eyes are closed and their hands twined together upon their chest. Here in the lowest deck, where not an inch of light manages to intrude, they lie dead.

CHAPTER ONE

Susanna boards The Majestic to travel from England to France. Betrothed to Lord Louis, her heart is heavy, but she knows she has no choice. Her father died and left them with nothing, so now her and her mother’s only salvation is for her to go to France and marry Lord Louis.
Grace, her servant girl, walks behind her, lifting the back of her dress, so that it does not drag across the dirty deck. Although, Susanna is sure the captain keeps it clean, many feet have trampled mud all over it, from down below on the docks.
The ship is not more than three times, as long as it is wide, and Susanna crosses her chest shocked when she walks into her cabin. The cabin is hardly big enough for her to turn about in. There is a single bed pushed against the wall and an armoire against the wall opposite the bed. The space between these two items of furniture is just large enough for her to walk into, the wide expanse of her dress brushing along the sides. The small porthole is in the centre of the wall, and looking out of it, Susanna notices that she is level with the water lapping against the side of the boat.
Grace unpacks her bags for the long voyage, and they manage to move around each other with great difficulty.
Susanna decides to go up onto the deck, while Grace finishes her tasks.
Up on the deck Susanna leans against the railing, looking down with curiosity as she sees the crew untie the anchor, she hears the cries of men as they hoist the sails, and then sadly she watches the coast of England drift away from her. Her mother did not come to bid her farewell, as she has an urgent appointment with her solicitor, which she could not postpone.
When the captain learned that Susanna would be traveling with him on the journey across the channel, he invited her for dinner, so when the time drew nearer to dinnertime, Grace helps Susanna to wash from the basin of lukewarm water.
Grace helps her into the heavy dress and then Grace pulls her dress in at the back, while Susanna feels as if she is going to faint.
Seated on the little chair in front of the large oval mirror on the wall, Grace starts to brush her hair and tie it up behind her head in the latest style.
Susanna looks unseeing in the mirror and she thinks back to her mother, left behind in England. Her mother will join her within a week or two, so it makes the situation all that more daunting for Susanna. The only person she knows, who she can turn towards now, is Grace.
Susanna has to go to a country where she has never been, to meet a man she has never met.
Uncertainty and fear almost overwhelm her, but then Grace leans across her and lightly touches her shoulder, smiling reassuringly at the reflecting of Susanna in the mirror. Susanna returns her smile.
She glances at her own reflection one last time and she fleetingly notices her dark hair tied up into a chignon behind her head. The blue dress she is wearing compliments her clear, sapphire eyes and her naturally rosy cheeks and lips.
She takes a deep breath, as deep as her dress would allow, and then she walks out of the little cabin and along the narrow, dank passageway towards the captain’s great cabin, where he entertains and eats.
The decorations in the great cabin are lavish. A chandelier hangs low over the centre of the large wooden table. Presented in large silver dishes are an assortment of sweet and spicy meats, vegetables and potatoes. They eat from white china, exquisitely decorated with dainty blue Dutch windmills.
The captain is a burly, friendly and slightly effeminate man. He is the opposite of everything Susanna believed a sea captain was and she is pleasantly surprised.
They talk long into the night, about his sea faring adventures. Susanna has always found it easy to relate to strangers and because she is naturally inquisitive, people often share their most intimate secrets with her. She usually allows people to talk, while she listens attentively.
Later he takes her up upon the deck. The moon is full, reflecting on the water and Susanna feels as if they are riding on a pathway straight towards the bursting moon. A wintry breeze flirts across her bare shoulders and she feels a chill down her spine.
The galleon suddenly jerks violently towards the side, and Susanna hears men screaming and yelling fearfully and panic-stricken.
Surprised Susanna hears the clashing of sword against sword. A moment ago, everything was peaceful and quiet, but now pandemonium reigned upon the deck of The Majestic.
Through her shock, she hears the captain yell with certainty, “Pirates! Go to your room and lock the door. Do not come out until daybreak.”
Without hesitation, Susanna lifts her skirts in both her hands and her dainty feet run across the deck towards the stairway, when suddenly she runs into a wall.
She falters and hands grab onto her arms roughly. Susanna catches her breath loudly and a squeak pushes past the fear lodged in her throat. She looks up, into a face more beautiful than she had ever seen. The wind is playing in his light-colored hair. His dark eyes look at her inquisitively, while his brows form a frown, creasing his forehead. A smile plays seductively across his lips and she sees with distress him lean down towards her.
William looks down at Susanna, the fright and panic in her eyes excite him, and he leans down towards her long elongated neck. He can hear her blood rushing through her veins faster and faster, he can smell the sweet smell of her blood. He can imagine the taste of it, melting over his tongue.

To read more on your Kindle (The Best Reading experience on your web browser, PC, Mac, iPhone, iPad, Blackberry or Android phone)

To follow any updates or news from William, a Vampire Pirate Trilogy, please like the Facebook page: William, a Vampire Pirate Trilogy by Lynette Ferreira

William the Damned (William, a Vampire Pirate Trilogy) is published by Fantasy Island Book Publishing

♥

Land of Nod, The Artifact by Gary Hoover

2012-01-10T13:29:00.000-08:00

Remarkable Young Adult paper book from Fantasy Island Book Publishing, through Amazon

Jeff Browning is a teenage boy who,following the mysterious disappearance of his father (a brilliant physicist),finds a portal in his father's office that transports him to another dimension.

The dimension is populated by fantastic anddangerous creatures and also an advanced society of humans. That society, whilevery different from those on earth, is oddly similar, in some ways, to thesociety in which Jeff grew up.

As Jeff looks for clues regarding what mayhave happened to his father, he is accused by some of being a spy while thoughtby others to be a prophesized figure . . . who may be the key to victory in adeveloping war.

Paperback: 328 pages

Publication Date: September 2, 2011

Language: English

ISBN-13: 978-0615533353

♥

Review: The Witching Hour by Elizabeth Laird

2012-01-10T13:17:00.000-08:00

Maggie grows up as an orphan with her grandmother after the tragic death of her mother and father. Her grandmother is accused of being a witch and this leads to Maggie having to flee from the island of Brute where she has lived. She knows no other place and has never ventured further than six miles away from their cottage by the sea.
In Scotland she finds her uncle and she moves in with them. Here though they have their own troubles with the King wanting to dictate to which religion the Scottish people should abide with. She finds herself immersed in the world of the Covenanter until her uncle is arrested and she has to undergo the journey to safe him and bring him back home to his family.

I found this book extra-ordinarily interesting. Although there is not really anything about witches, which I expected from the title, this book still held me captivated and taught me a lot about the beginnings of the religious struggles between the Catholic church and the Protestants. I love books set in old-England and this book was well told. I also enjoyed the Christian undertones in the book and how Maggie had to struggle with herself to understand why everybody thought religion was so important to give up everything else.

Link at Amazon: The Witching Hour by Elizabeth Laird

Book Description:

Everyone knows the devil is real. Everyone knows that witches exist. Everyone knows that saying the wrong thing can get you hanged. When fourteen-year-old Maggie's grandmother is accused of witchcraft, Maggie has to run for her life. But Scotland is in the grip of terror and Maggie runs straight into danger, falling into the hands of the English. Defying the king can be deadly, but falling in line is unthinkable. Maggie must learn to stand up for herself if she is to survive.

♥

Review: Fuse by S.A. Partridge

2011-12-31T06:44:00.000-08:00

Kendall is adopted by the Mullins. Justin and Kendall grow up and the story really starts with Justin in Grade 12 and Kendall in Grade 11. At school Justin and Kendall aren’t really friends and they pretend that they do not know each other. Kendall is bullied relentlessly, even accused of Satanism and called a freak on a daily basis. Justin is popular, in the A-group and has a new girlfriend every week.
A new boy starts at the same school as the Mullin brothers and befriends Kendall. Craig however is also bullied and wants to take revenge against those who treat him unfairly. He plans to blow up the school by building a pipe bomb, because it is easier than buying a gun.
To protect Kendall from their father when Kendall is accused of being the mastermind behind the planned bombing of the school, Justin and Kendall run away from home and thus starts their lives on the streets of Cape Town.

I could not put this book down and the heartfelt emotions portrait by the author made me empathize with the two boys, whilst living on the streets in haggard circumstances.

This story depicts clearly the dire consequences of bullying and it is an amazing read.

Book Synopsis:

Kendall Mullins hates high school, almost as much as he hates the situation at home, but that all changes when Craig Baumgarten joins his class. Craig makes life at Percy Fitzpatrick High almost bearable, until the bullies set their sights on the new best friends and Craig hatches a plan to fight back with devastating consequences.

As Kendall is drawn in deeper he finds himself in a situation he can't escape and its up to his brother Justin to protect him. The Mullins brothers flee the suburbs as they attempt to outrun the law and the wrath of their parents, but on the streets of Cape Town they find that life just got very real.

At present Fuse is only readable in paperback, and is available on Amazon

♥

Review: Evercrossed by Elizabeth Chandler

2011-12-30T04:16:00.000-08:00

Ivy is on a working holiday at Cape Cod with her friend Beth. One night she and Beth is in a car accident and she sees Tristan again, before she wakes up in the hospital. In the hospital she meets a boy who is suffering from amnesia. He is named Guy by the hospital staff. Ivy feels sorry for Guy and spends a lot of time with him, which makes Will jealous. Ivy and Guy develop a relationship and in the end he makes a startling revelation. To top it all, an Ouji board participation in the beginning of the book brings Gregory back from the dead.

This story was okay. I cannot really say I enjoyed it more than I did Kissed by an Angel, but it was a nice enough follow-up. Although Will was overbearingly needy, I did feel sorry for him and I did not like the way Ivy was still clinging to the memory of Tristan a year later, when in Kissed by an Angel I did not feel as if they were that close anyway.

I do however like the inclusion of Guy into the story, and I absolutely adore him!!

Book Synopsis:

Ivy and Tristan have both moved on ~ Tristan, to the other side of the afterlife, and Ivy has moved on with sweet, dependable Will. But when an accident seriously injures Ivy, almost to the point of near death, she meets her soulmate Tristan again. And at the place of the "in between", their bittersweet reunion culminates in one breathtaking kiss. But unbeknownst to both Ivy and Tristan, it was that one heart stopping kiss that brought Ivy back to life ~ and angels are prohibited from meddling in matters of life and death. Now fallen from heaven for saving the girl he loves, Tristan is in the body of a stranger, and he must find his way to Ivy once more...

Link to Evercrossed by Elizabeth Chandler on Amazon

Free Giveaway: My Name is Lucas

2011-12-12T05:21:00.000-08:00

♥ Happy Holidays ♥

To thank everybody for their support during 2011 and for downloading and reading my work, also for the nice feedback I have received from across the globe, I now give back to you.

My newest novel, My Name is Lucas is a Young Adult Paranormal / End of Days / Armageddon tale of Lucas.

The story starts at the beginning of time and will end during the last days.

You will find that My Name is Lucas ends without a proper end, but at present I am still lost within the world of Lucas and the second book will be available late 2012

My Name is Lucas will be my entry into the International Amazon Breakthrough Novel Awards 2012 and I will appreciate your feedback.

You may download My Name is Lucas from Smashwords

At the checkout use the code HR92U to read this book for Free

This offer expires 31 December 2011

Conditions:

You may tell all your friends about this free offer;
Once the offer is expired, you may tell all your friends about My Name is Lucas, but you may not share the file;
I would appreciate your feedback. Your review may be featured right here and all over the web where-ever I park my name and promote my stories.

VERSE ONE

The amber, iridescent light of the street lamp above him shine down upon the old, gray sidewalk. Pinkish, brown bubblegum circles decorate the gray slate. The rain falls incessantly down and the glow around the light grows larger and larger. Rivulets run down the slight incline towards the deep dark throat of the city. All the pain, suffering and sins are being washed into the cesspool down under. For a while the city will have a clean gleaming look to it, until the persistent stench of humankind smother and taint it again.

On a step in an alcove to a barber shop, huddled against the door, he sits. His blonde hair is dirty and streaked with filth. It hangs across his forehead and clings to his neck, it curls over the edge of his used-to-be green sweater. His blue eyes are dull and tired. He struggles to keep them open and he has the dirty grey blanket wrapped around his shoulders. His legs are pulled up against his chest, because although it is summer, the rain falling relentlessly in the streets in front of him, has brought a chill with it.

His stomach hurts from hunger, because it is a struggle to get small change from most people. They think he will waste it on drugs. Considering they are all on their way home to a warm meal, a loving family, a cozy bed, so even if he used the spare change they dug out from the bottom of their purses for drugs or alcohol, would that not ease his own personal suffering. How judgmental they are. Tonight when they go home they will swallow their prescription drugs and sleep the slumber of the righteous.

He is not here because he has a drug problem. He is not here because he has a drinking problem. He is here, because he has no family. He grew up in an orphanage.

Hungry and lonely - the faith and believe he once had in other people, soon proved to be empty hopes.

Sometimes he will see the pity and fear in people's eyes. Fear that at any moment, in the blink of an eye, they could be plunged into the same situation as him. Mostly though they avoid him, quickly pull out a few cents and hand it to him, putting it cautiously into his dirty outstretched hand.

When he turned eighteen he was set free from the institution, yet no-one gave a second thought to what would happen to him after that. He went into the big, wide world with a basic education, no skills, no-where to live. For eighteen years, he lived within the confines of the orphanage, only leaving every Sunday with all the other boys to go to church and then herded back through the gates to his room. A room he shared with nineteen other boys. Meals were always served at the same time, every day, three times in a day. A strict, scheduled day. Then suddenly without any preparation, he turned eighteen and he had to leave.

He enjoys sitting way up high on the tall buildings and he has never had a problem getting to the really high ones, even though they are all accessed controlled. Most people look through him. Invisible he is. They do not see him. Although he mostly waits for rush hour, because then the lobbies are full and if he sneaks in, keeps his head down, he is usually able to get to the service elevator. Most times it is more difficult to get out of the building again, when he wants to leave, because then he has to walk through an empty lobby. Security guards are not always very understanding.

The first time he noticed he was different from everybody else was the day he flew from the roof of the Catholic Orphanage where he grew up.

He was only seven years old and as far back as he could remember, he collected feathers. Whenever, wherever. He used to pick up feathers from the ground and then keep them in an old tea tin at the back of his cupboard.

When the box was full, he used to go up to the roof of the orphanage building, and then huddled under the shadow of the large wooden cross, with the sun shining down on his head, turning his fair skin dark brown, and his already blonde hair, strikingly white, he used to sit for hours concentrating intently on his important task.

Sister Anne liked to point out that he was her little angel, with his huge blue eyes, which seemed pale and eerily unusual, especially against his dark, tanned skin and white hair.

The other boys at the orphanage, for some reason, did not like him, all that much. He was a shy boy who liked to keep to himself, living in his own world and imagining that he could lift off from his feet and sweep up with the wind. How he would fly high up in the sky, only a speck in the sky and then look down upon earth, and see it all in one glance. He could spend hours in this daydream, when the other boys his age used to run around and play the latest craze of the season, like marbles or tops.

He took advantage of Sister’s Anne soft spot in her heart for him. He used to beg her continually for super-glue, which she used to give to him now and again, with a pleased smile across her face when she saw the childlike delight in his face.

Painstakingly he glued every feather he had, onto a long, skinny stick he plucked from a tree, which he fashioned to fit the length of his arm, from shoulder to wrist. When the stick was covered sufficiently, he then started with the next row down, making sure they overlap each other. He did not want to make the wings heavy with criss-cross sticks, and he liked the way it flapped in the wind when he held it up.

It took unbelievably long, because feathers were a scarce commodity and then when suddenly the box was empty he hid the pair of wings securely under the eaves so that the wind would not carry it away.

Since he could remember, he had this believe that he could fly.

It was a sunny day, when eventually both his wings were complete. There was a slight breeze brushing against his warm skin. He concentrated, biting softly on his tongue, which was protruding slightly from between his lips, while he carefully super-glued the sticks to his arms, lengthwise. It proved more difficult to glue the second wing than it was to glue the first one, but eventually, sweat making droplets on his forehead, he had them both glued in place.

He stood on the roof and slowly he lifted his extended arms up and down, testing his new wings against the wind. They looked magnificent, although a multitude of shades in gray and black, collected from every pigeon and crow that ever dropped a feather over the grounds of the orphanage.

He stepped forward and stood on the edge of the three-storey institutional red-brick building and then he leapt, without thinking twice.

For a moment, he incredibly soared through the sky. He felt the wind in his hair, the breeze kissing him softly on his cheeks. He felt laughter build up in him. Flying felt familiar to him.

Then he started plummeting.

He saw the ground rushing towards him with unbelievable speed. He fell and rolled, and the shock shuddered through his body. He waited for the darkness to descend over him, but it did not happen.

He heard screams coming towards him, and then he was looking up into many faces.

He smiled his sweetest smile up at Sister Anne, as she kneeled down beside him, crossing herself vigorously, repeatedly.

She said something in Spanish, and then she asked worriedly, “Are you okay, Lucas?”

“I seem to be.” He smiled up at her innocently.

Sister Anne held up her hand and asked, “How many fingers?”

“Five,” he answered and she gasped.

He laughed, “Three. I am okay. Really.”

“Move all your fingers and toes,” she commanded sternly, moving onto anger after her initial shock.

He moved them all, and then Mr. Reynolds, the caretaker, lifted him into his arms. He carried him to his bed, in a room that he shared with nineteen other boys.

Mr. Reynolds lay him down in his bed, while Sister Anne hovered over him.

After Mr. Reynolds left the room, she exclaimed, her anger moving on to disbelieve, “Lucas, this is surely a miracle. You did not even break a bone. Sister Angelina, will be here soon and she cannot believe it either.”

Amongst themselves, talking in rushed sentences, they decided that he was unbelievably lucky, and it was thanks to God only that he did not kill myself.

Sister Angelina announced that evening in study hall that going up to the roof ‘will forthwith be strictly forbidden’.

His flying experiment kept him busy for the following two months, because as his punishment he had to clean the bathroom on his floor, this included scrubbing the inside of the toilets, all seven of them, until he was able to see his face in the porcelain. He also had to say fifty ‘Hail Mary’s’ every evening for a month.

Six months after his short, yet glorious flight, he overheard Sister Anne tell Sister Angelina, that he, Lucas, had never been ill. Even when he was a little baby he hardly ever cried. He had never been sick once, that she could ever remember. Since his stunt, she has spent many sleepless nights, contemplating and trying to recall a single day when he even had a runny nose.

It is true, he has never been sick.

VERSE TWO

The sky is rumbling and scraping. The lightening strobe continuous across the dark night sky.

Lucas looks up at the sky despondently, because he knows that it is going to be another bitter cold night. The sweater he is wearing is well worn and it does not keep out the cold any more. He huddles closer to the building, and looks at the lightning as it lights up the sky every time it streaks down towards the earth.

His arms are folded around his legs and he hides his face protectively between his knees and his arms. With one eye he looks through the gap over his arm to keep watch. It is dangerous to fall asleep too deeply.

He notices two dark figures walk out of the shadows of a tree growing on the sidewalk. They walk towards his general direction, and he keeps his eyes on them suspiciously, without lifting his head.

He has not been on the streets all that long, about six months now, but already he knows to be wary of people. When they look at him he often wonders if they actually do see him, but at night, he hopes desperately, that they do not see him.

The two men walking closer to him, look well dressed, their dark coats billow out behind them in the wind rushing down the streets. Lucas feels a sense of relief wash through him, because they do not look like those who usually prowl the streets at night looking for trouble.

The one man closest to him suddenly look up and straight into his eye, Lucas feels dread hurry through him. He instantly knows that they were not just going to walk past him.

The one closest to him sneer as he nudges the man walking next to him. They both change their path and they start walking towards him.

Lucas gets to his feet fast, staggering backwards. He pushes himself back against the wall, and he wonders desperately how fast he would be able to run. If he started running now, would he have a good head-start?

Astonished he sees the man closest to him unfurl large black wings from behind his back. The man lifts himself into the air and then he swoops at Lucas.

Lucas puts his arms up protectively, and then he feels himself being body-slammed by a hard unyielding surface into the wall behind him.

The man says mockingly, close to his face, “We have been looking for you!”

Struggling to breathe, Lucas manages to ask, “Me? Why? I am nobody, and I have nothing for you.”

The other man standing aside, watching intently, scoffs, “But you do Lucas. You hold the key to everything.”

“You have me mistaken with someone else, I do not have any keys.”

The man pinning Lucas against the wall laughs menacingly.

Without warning, another person appears and his voice bellows through the night sky, louder than the thunder banging loudly around Lucas.

“Let him go, Camael”

The winged man, lets Lucas go abruptly.

Lucas slides down the wall, dropping down onto his backside.

The winged man, Camael, turns away from Lucas towards the third man, and he calls out thunderously, “Bodiel! Lucifer's servant. Leave it be, you know this is how it should be. Do you really think God would allow this to happen? That this, even if it is your son, will survive. He has never allowed it before, why do you think you will succeed now?”

“God made a promise, and I would like to think that He is just.”

“Of course, God is just. Only you and your followers would even question this. However, you betrayed God, by rising with Lucifer against Him. Do you really think, although He has given you hope, and the means of succeeding, that the other Angels of the Twelfth Order will ever allow you to succeed?”

“We have succeeded thus far, and I will not allow you to now kill Lucas.”

Camael sneers, “Bodiel, you do not have a choice, and I suggest you give up this endless desire to get back into heaven. You and your kind made your choice, and now you have to live with that choice.”

“No, we need not,” Bodiel, yells unrelentingly.

Without a second of hesitation, Bodiel storms towards Camael and with unbelievable speed, he runs into him and knocks him over. Camael immediately jumps up, growling deep in his throat and then lunges at Bodiel. Bodiel sidesteps and as Camael stumble past him, Bodiel grabs him around his neck and twirls him around. He throws Camael onto the ground again, and then falling on top of him, Bodiel grabs him around his neck.

Lucas hears a loud whiplash thump as a lighting bolt flashes over their heads. Electricity crackles in the air and Lucas can smell the distinct smells of ozone.

Bodiel lets go of Camael instantly, and then lifting himself off the ground hurriedly, he steps back. He insists, “I believe that is your cue to leave.”

Camael jumps onto his feet, and then joining the other man, they start to walk away from Lucas and Bodiel. When they are only a few paces away, the other man, who had been standing aside looks back menacingly, and whispers loudly enough for it to echo in the air around Lucas, “You have not seen the last of us, son.”

Lucas feels the blood in his veins turn cold, and then he turns to his unlikely rescuer.

Bodiel walks towards Lucas, and says, “Lucas.” It is not a question, but an affirmation.

Lucas steps away from him and replies, “I am Lucas.”

He takes another step backwards as it dawns on him that there was a winged man here just a moment ago, and now this man, whose name he assumes is Bodiel, is looking at him kindly. This Bodiel actually sees him, and it is not a look he has gotten used to over the last months.

He wonders how Bodiel seemed to appear out of thin air, and he wonders if he could believe the winged man. Is this his father? Lucas feels confused. Emotions sweep through him rapidly, from disbelief to raging anger.

Where has he been all this time? Through his childhood, when he needed a father figure, and especially during the last months when he experienced immense loneliness, although he was always surrounded by crowds of people. He had learned the true meaning of hunger and cold.

Lucas collects his meager belongings, set on walking away from this man called Bodiel, even if he was his father. For the moment Lucas has forgotten the phenomenon he witnessed – he saw with his own eyes – an angel.

With his belongings in his hands, he starts to walk away and then a girl appears from out of the shadows.

He sees immediately how pretty she is, and he looks down self-consciously. Ashamed he looks away, because he does not want to see the pity in her eyes. He does not want her to see how dirty he is, and he does not want her to get to close, so that she can smell him, and the fact that he has not had a decent bath in the last six months.

Softly she says, “Lucas, do not walk away now. We have searched long and hard for you. We are so glad that we have eventually found you.”

“Found me? Why were you looking for me?”

Lucas looks up towards Bodiel suspiciously where Bodiel is standing slightly separated from them, eagerly awaiting Lucas' decision.

“Why?” Lucas insists, moving away, a frown across his brow. Unsure of everything that has happened in the last few minutes.

The girl smiles reassuringly, “We cannot explain everything to you now. Come with us, we will give you a warm bed and some food, and then Bodiel will explain everything to you.”

Lucas looks at her doubtfully. Could they be trusted, he wondered. A winged creature, just moments ago attacked him, and he still could not wrap his head around the whole idea. An actual winged man. The urge to fly suddenly resurfaced in Lucas, and briefly he imagined soaring through the heavens.

Adelaide notices the change in Lucas' expression, and softly she asks, “So, will you come with us?”

Lucas clears his head, and looks towards the girl with the short, spiky black hair, “Tell me what you need now. I cannot just go with you. I just witnessed something unbelievable, and I am sorry, I am not sure you can be trusted.”

Bodiel suddenly steps forward, “Perhaps you will join us for something to eat and drink at that late night coffee shop across the road there.”

Lucas looks across the asphalt and sees the reflection of green, red and blue in the glimmer of the rain. He was going to say no, but then the cramp in his stomach makes him reconsider. He hears his stomach growl softly, and then self-consciously, he says, “Okay. Thanks.”

They walk across the road. Three figures through the rain. Bodiel is neatly dressed in an open neck shirt, neat dress pants and shiny black shoes. Beside him is Adelaide, dressed in black jeans and a long black overcoat. Her black boots splash through the puddles. Following them is Lucas in his green frayed sweater, faded jeans hanging from his hips limply and trainers that has seen better days, clinging tightly to his little bundle of worldly possessions.

Subconsciously Lucas pulls the sleeves on his sweater up over his elbows and brushes his hand through his dirty hair, moving his bundle from one arm to the other.

The bell over the door of the late-night coffee shop tinkles merrily, and Bodiel stamps his shoes on the ground as soon as they walk through the glass doors into the coffee shop.

Lucas hears the door swoosh closed behind him.

Bodiel walks towards a table in the back, while Adelaide and Lucas follow him. Lucas wonders why he would walk through the entire café to sit at the back, when they are the only customers.

Bodiel waits for Adelaide to slide into the booth and then he sits down next to her. Lucas sits down across from them.

A tired looking waitress walks towards them and she is wearing a salmon colored over-all. Her perky voice does not match her expression, when she asks, “Are you ready to order?”

She holds her pad and pen ready. Bodiel orders three filter coffees while he pushes a menu across the table to Lucas.

Lucas takes it and then lays his hand over it.

Adelaide opens her menu and says, “Mmm, I think I'll have the Sunrise Breakfast. What will you have Lucas?”

Feeling embarrassed, yet starving, Lucas says, “That sounds great. I wouldn't mind. Thank you.”

The waitress scribbles on her pad hurriedly, and then she looks towards Bodiel, “Anything for you?

Bodiel looks up at her and smiles, “No, thank you. That will be all for now.”

The waitress nods her head, and then turns towards the kitchen area.

Silence hangs thick in the air.

Bodiel clears his throat, “I am sure you have questions, especially after what just happened.”

Lucas looks up, suddenly feeling angry and brave, “Are you my father?”

Bodiel looks unsure, but he says, “Yes, I am. Before you get upset, I have a lot to explain to you and it will all make sense once I have told you.”

The coffee arrives, already sweetened and with milk.

Lucas twirls the cup in front of him around and around, suppressing the urge to drink all its contents in one swallow.

Adelaide leans over the table towards Lucas, “You can trust us. Really. We would not be able to tell you the full story here.” Her eyes sweep the room.

Lucas looks up at her, and once again he realizes how pretty she is. Sometimes he wishes that his life was different, that he grew up in a normal house, with a normal family and then perhaps he would have had a girlfriend as pretty as this girl. He once again feels anger towards the man sitting across from him. Supposedly his father, he looks well and he does not look as if he has ever wanted for anything, so why then was he, Lucas, left at an orphanage.

What happened to his mother? Could she also still be alive. He would like to give her a piece of his mind as well. Yes, granted, he was relieved that he has, maybe, found a place where he belonged, but he also has a lot of suppressed feelings reaching boiling point just now.

He looks across the table to Adelaide, “You say so easily, ‘trust us’, but you still have not told me your name, and I surmise his name is Bodiel.” Lucas points his hand in the general direction of Bodiel, without looking at him.

Adelaide sighs, “Really, Lucas, we are on your side. My name is Adelaide and let me introduce you to Bodiel.”

Adelaide smiles while she looks in the direction of Bodiel.

The food arrives, and the smell alone melts away any thoughts that Lucas might have had or any questions he was about to ask.

He picks up the knife and fork and then he starts to eat single-mindedly. He can only taste the egg yolk as it runs over his tongue, and the oil of the bacon when the two mixes. He feels the food being deposited into his long empty stomach and he feels a warm feeling rise from his mid-section.

He does not notice the way Bodiel is looking at him broodingly.

When Lucas finishes every morsel on his plate, suppressing the urge to lick the congealed sticky yellow yolk from the white porcelain plate, Bodiel silently signals towards the waitress and he asks, “So will you come with us, Lucas?”

Lucas suddenly regrets agreeing to eat, because now he feels guilty rejecting Bodiel.

Adelaide laughs softly, “Of course, you will be coming with us. I can see the questions racing through your mind. You want answers, and only Bodiel can give them to you. Trust us. What have you got to lose anyway?”

Lucas wants to say that perhaps he could lose his life, that is all he has to lose, but he remains silent. He feels confused. True, he wants answers to the many questions he has. He decides, impulsively, to go with them, against his better judgment. He has the urge to see where it would lead him.

Bodiel leaves the money for the bill on the table and then they walk out of the restaurant, one after the other.

Lucas did not notice that he was walking between Adelaide and Bodiel when they left the café.

Once outside they walk next to each other back across the asphalt and then past the little alcove where not so long ago Lucas was getting ready to settle in for the night.

Adelaide whispers, “Bodiel, someone is following us.”

“I know,” Bodiel whispers, while moving closer to Lucas.

Lucas frowns and he wonders what is going on. Bodiel and Adelaide start to walk faster, and automatically Lucas follows.

They reach a dark SUV with dark tinted windows and when the orange lights blink on and off, Lucas jumps in his skin.

Adelaide opens the back door and then motions hurriedly to Lucas to get in. After the briefest moment of hesitation, he gets up into the car.

Adelaide closes the door behind him and then she gets into the front seat in front of him. By the time she pulls the door shut behind her, Bodiel has started the car. Lucas is sure he heard the rustle of feathers.

Bodiel pulls away from the curb and then they drive off into the luminous, reflective night.

Lucas reads the overhead signs as they fly past, so that he would know where he was if he needed to find his way back.

They leave the city and then an hour later, Bodiel turns the car into a narrow rural road. They follow this road through the dark trees for quite a distance, and Lucas thinks to himself although he followed the signs, still he did not have the foggiest of clues where they were at this particular moment.

After, what feels like forever, Lucas sees a darker structure against the black of the night, before Bodiel starts to slow down.

The car comes to a stop in front of a wooden structure, and then Bodiel gets out of the car. Lucas and Adelaide follow close behind.

They walk through the unlocked door, and from the corner of his eye, Lucas sees Adelaide hesitate for a moment outside the door, looking up into the sky before she comes into the room and closes the door behind her.

She says as she walks past them deeper into the house, “They did not follow us here. I wonder what they are up to?”

Bodiel shows Lucas towards a small lounge area and when Bodiel sits down, Lucas sinks down into a chair across from him. He notices Adelaide standing in the doorway. He feels dirty and he is sure he smells bad which is probably why she is keeping her distance.

Lucas is expecting his mother to walk into the room at any moment, and as the silent minutes tick by, he cannot help himself, he asks, “Is my mother here?”

Bodiel looks towards Lucas startled, pain flashes across his features briefly.

He says curtly, “Why don't you go and clean up and then I will tell you everything, once you feel more comfortable.”

Lucas notices the look between Adelaide and Bodiel, while he stands up from the chair.

“Adelaide will show you the way,” Bodiel dismisses both of them.

Lucas washes his body repeatedly under the spray of the showerhead, until the dirty brown water swirling into the drain clears. By the time he gets out of the shower, he feels a hundred times better.

He takes the disposal razor, arranged with all the other bathroom paraphernalia on the bathroom basin, out of its plastic container and then after smearing shaving foam lavishly over his cheeks and chin he shaves the new soft beard from his face. He only recently noticed the soft, downy hair growing on his face, he was a late bloomer when it came to facial hair growth.

He shaves in long upward strokes as he had seen the older boys at the orphanage do, and then he rinses the excess foam from his face. He dries his face and then wipes his hand appreciatively over his chin. He smiles sardonically at how little small things can make live seem so much easier, things that other people, those who looked at him without seeing him, took for granted.

Adelaide had placed a clean set of clothes on the toilet lid before she left earlier, and when he is done dressing into the new dark blue jean and soft white t-shirt, he feels good.

He walks out of the bathroom, feeling like a completely different person and when he walks into the lounge, he sees Adelaide do a double-take.

Lucas smiles embarrassed at her, and then he sits down in the same chair he left more than an hour ago. Lucas notices Bodiel holding a glass of red wine, and then he hears Adelaide ask, “Would you like a cup of tea or would you prefer coffee.”

Lucas looks up at her, still standing in the doorway, “Could I have a cup of coffee. If that is okay?”

He sees Adelaide frown, and he hears her mumble as she walks down the hall toward the kitchen, “I would not offer, if it was not okay.”

Bodiel takes a deep breath and Lucas can see him visibly settle deeper into the chair. Bodiel starts, “You might not believe what I am going to tell you, it may seem very far fetched, but I assure you it is all true.”

THE CONTENTS OF THE STORY MY NAME IS LUCAS IS COPYRIGHTED AND MIGHT NOT BE USED WITHOUT THE PRIOR WRITTEN PERMISSION OF THE AUTHOR

Would you remember ME

2011-12-09T12:27:00.001-08:00

A couple of years ago, my son was 16 years old, and it was an ordinary morning.
We were having breakfast and my son said casually, as if it was an every-day thing. 'Oh, a girl in my class committed suicide.'
I remember saying the usual. 'That's so silly.' 'Why would someone do that?' 'What a waste.' I then proceeded to convince them in my own way that nothing is ever worth killing yourself for, whilst running around getting everything ready and everybody out the door.
We did not talk about it again in the car on the way to my son's school. I dropped him off and then we drove away so that I could drop my daughter off, because she was then still in Primary School.
The early morning news came on the radio and the news announcer started talking about the recent epidemic of suicides in the particular high school my son attended and the sister school adjacent to it. That week alone, four kids killed themselves.
After the news the DJ said that there was a request for a song for the girl who killed herself the night before. I do not remember the girl's name, but still, now at this moment, I will never forget the song. It was My Immortal by Evanescence.
I cried for this girl as if she was my own daughter, and I can still feel the pain inside of me, when I think of her although I never knew her.

The day I sat down and wrote Would you remember ME, I heard the song earlier and as always when I hear this song, my mind drifted to her. Sometimes it feels as if somehow my soul is connected to hers, because why is it that this stranger's particular suicide affected me so much? I sat down and I wrote. It was as if I could feel her every sadness, every anguish, every desperate hope and dream and it was indescribable the utter sadness I felt. I cried so much that day.
In the end I did not want to leave it as a suicide note and I (tried) to make it into a message of hope, which I hope it is. I want many young people to read it and to realize that no matter how difficult and impossible a situation may seem day after day after day, eventually we grow up and then those things which seemed so insurmountable fades and shrink into nothingness.

WOULD YOU REMEMBER ME

LYNETTE FERREIRA

Suicide is the third leading cause of death among adolescents and teenagers.

When they find my lifeless body and they dedicate a song on the radio for me, I hope it will be the one that I am listening to now. I think it would be fitting and it would express my feelings so simply, yet completely. Before they play the song on the radio though, I would like the announcer to mention my name and say that it was dedicated to me, perhaps then whoever hears it will remember me whenever they hear the song again, although they never knew me. I would be immortal.

I am so unimaginably sorry for doing what I am going to do, but you see I have all these fears. The fears and doubts I have are so real, so are they really as childish and silly as you always say they are. Sometimes, I am sad and so bitterly lonely and at times, I feel useless, as if I cannot accomplish even the simplest task. Do not get me wrong, I do not always feel this way, because we do laugh and we do often have fun together, but always though I still have this lonely, sadness in my chest. If you looked at me, you would never know the turmoil inside of me. I can be happy, and I do have hopeless crushes on the most un-attainable boys. I have to laugh, because that was before I met the absolutely gorgeous, Casey.

I have dreams and hopes, but sometimes I think they just are not enough. I have not slept in the longest time. When the sun sets every evening and everything gets quiet, I lie in my bed but sleep will not come. Thoughts run through my mind. I have tried to count sheep, and I have tried to relax my body by making myself feel heavy and sink into the mattress, but it never works. This has had a vicious spiraling effect on my daylight hours. I am constantly tired and my grades have started to slip. I am just so utterly unable to concentrate. How I would have loved to see your face when you got my report card. Straight A’s to depressing D’s. I can only imagine the hour-long lectures, which would go on for days and days. Your continuous monologues at the most importune moments.

I cannot help thinking about Casey, the lovely Casey. How I loved him, and how he left me. His presence still lingers and I can feel him in the air around me. I feel trapped by the life he left behind. Memories cling to everything and they are everywhere.

It is with regret that I have to say that I am just so tired of being here. I am only fifteen years old, and already I am exhausted. There must be something better out there, don’t you think? I have so many minor wounds, little scrapes and bruises, that have become so large in my mind, I do not think I would ever be able to get over them. They say that time heals everything, but how do you erase loss?

Mommy. My dearest, dearest Mommy. I know you will blame yourself and I do not want you to. Nothing you could have done would have changed anything.
I have the photo album next to me. You know the one with the bright burgundy red cover. We never seem to look at these photos anymore and I have to wonder why people even bother. You were happy once, before life became difficult. There is a sparkle in your eyes in the earlier photos. Your hair used to be so nice, long and rich brown. You should grow it again; I think it would suit you.
I remember the day you told me about babies and childbirth. I still snicker when I think about that day. How we laughed and laughed. You made it all seem so funny.
You will be shocked to know that I have so many memories of when I was little. I am smiling to myself now, because they are nice memories. I used to love the way your arms wrapped around me, so tightly. You always made me feel so safe and loved. Your hand always felt warm when you wrapped your fingers around mine. You always let me run ahead when you fetched me from school and we walked home, but when we had to cross the road, you always, always took my hand firmly into yours.
You told me once how glad Daddy was the day you found out you were pregnant with me. You were young and poor, but you married for love and waited two years for me. You said, when the doctor turned to daddy, and said, ‘Congratulations, Daddy,’ that you could not contain him. He told everybody the same story a ga-zillion times.
You used to wipe away my tears, hold my hand when danger approached, but now I am supposed to be grown-up and I have to learn to cope with all these things on my own. I am so sorry for being this weak, but I will always be in your heart, won’t I?
You constantly encouraged me to stand up for myself, but something you never knew is that when we moved around all the time and you thought I made friends easily, I never did. It was always difficult for me. You always told me to be brave and to go up to someone I wanted to play with, but the rejection is horrifying and I am not sure if you could ever imagine what damage it does. I shall miss you, Mommy.

Daddy, dear Daddy. I loved you, you know, until you left us. Do you really think that you only left Mommy? How can you even begin to imagine that I would not feel as if you also left me? Was my love not good enough to keep you with us?
I am sorry, the day you asked me to choose between you and Mommy, I chose Mommy - but you see, in my mind you chose Ellen long ago above me, and that you, in effect rejected me, along with Mommy and Zelda.

Zelda, my dear baby sister. I have to admit when Mommy told me she was pregnant with you, I was so very, very jealous. However, when you were born and I saw how little you were, I loved you immediately. Admittedly, you did steal Mommy away from me, because you have so much energy and you always want all the attention, but I never held it against you. Mommy and I grew into a different relationship, a more mature relationship, because you replaced me as the baby in the house. Always know that I love you, and one day when you think back, I hope you will only have the nicest memories of me.

Last, but not least - my darling, Casey. How I miss thee? You would never have believed the commotion you caused when you left. I still cannot believe you have been gone an entire month. They had a memorial service for you at school. Girls and boys broke down and sobbed after you committed suicide on that Sunday morning. They said, “Casey Jones, a rising sports star aged just fifteen killed himself.” I promise you there was not a dry eye in the school hall where the memorial service was held. The Reverend said, "It is sometimes difficult to motivate yourself every day, and friendships and relationships might not be in the places you want them to be. Sometimes life might not unfold as we had hoped it would, and although life can seem complicated, it can also be good.” Everybody clung to each other for support and they even lit candles in remembrance of you, Casey.
They had a show on the television that proclaimed how teenage suicides were on the rise. The parents said the pressure placed by schools on children is a contributing factor, and the schools said that parents placed too much pressure on their children to succeed. I laugh now, when I remember how they described you as popular and you did well at sports and academically. What they did not mention is how much pressure you were under to excel in everything, and if you were not the best in everything you did, you would not have been so popular.
Before your mother closed your Facebook page, you should have seen the many, many messages there were for you. I could not believe how you reached super stardom overnight.
I still cannot believe you left me behind though. It was so sudden, and if only you had talked to me.
I will always love you. No matter where life may lead me and one day when I walk through the gates of heaven, I will look forward to looking into your eyes again. To feel your arms around me, to feel myself sink into you, and to know that with you is where I would always belong.

I wonder, is it nice where you are? I have contemplated joining you, but I do not know if I am brave enough. It is a scary thought, imagining that life will carry on without me. For a moment I will be famous, everyone will have my name on their lips. Maybe somewhere, years from now a stranger will hear a song on the radio and remember the girl she never knew who committed suicide in the prime of her life.
When I am gone, I want to leave a legacy. I am not sure yet, what kind of memory I would want to leave, so in the meantime I am going to have to think about it.

If you ever feel as if nothing is working out right for you, and you have thoughts of total desolation and desperation, put any rash decisions off until tomorrow. There is a saying, you should always remember, “The darkest hour is always just before dawn.”Sometimes in our darkest hour we can feel so hopeless, so rejected, so unloved, unwanted and discarded, but imagine when dawn eventually arrived, how we could shine!!

Please remember:

People who want to kill themselves are 'suicidal' only for a limited period of time. During this time they either move beyond it, get help or die.
As many as 80% of all completed suicides occurred after previous attempts. This is especially true for young people.
Ambivalence is a marked feature of a suicidal person. Many don't want to die, but simply want a way to escape an unbearable situation.
People might think it's safer not to talk about suicide with someone considering it. On the contrary, talking will help them deal with some of the heavy issues involved and diffuse the tension. A willingness to listen shows that people care and are willing to help.
If someone who has been depressed or suicidal suddenly seems happier, don't assume that the danger has passed. A person, having decided to kill themselves, may feel 'better' or feel a sense of relief having made the decision. Also, a severely depressed person may lack the energy to put their suicidal thoughts into action. Once they regain their energies, they may well go ahead and do it.
Most people either talk about it or do something to indicate that they are going to kill themselves. There is no need to blame yourself if you didn't see it coming, but if you are worried about someone you know, make sure you read all about the warning signs you may see before a suicide attempt, and also find out what you could do to help.

Available for FREE download at:

Diesel e-Books

Sony Reader Store

>>>>

Review: Last Kiss in Tiananmen Square by Lisa Zhang Wharton

2011-12-04T10:47:00.001-08:00

Baiyun lives in China and she studies at the Beijing Industrial University, where she is a conscientious student set on studying hard and escaping from her family life and China. She wants to write the TOFEL exams so that she can go to America, but she is drawn into the student revolution and she falls in love with Dagong, a married man.

The story spans the weeks during which students occupied Tiananmen Square and refused to eat or move until their demands were met. The protest began with a march by students in memory of Hu Yaobang, the former party leader, who died. The story leads you through Baiyun’s experience and emotions during the events that lead up to the Tiananmen Square massacre of April 1989 when several hundred civilians were shot dead by the Chinese army during a bloody military operation to crush this democratic protest.

At times Baiyun seemed scattered and confused, which at the time of reading the story made it halting. However, this is one of those stories that sits in that place at the back of your mind and you realise that it is obvious that her thoughts would be all over the place. A quiet girl who used to spend all her time studying is now in the middle of a democratic protest and she falls in love for the first time amid all the chaos.

I remember watching this story on the news and I found the insight and in-depth explanation by Baiyun fascinating, which made me understand this historical event better.

This story stayed with me for days and Lisa Zhang Wharton wrote a beautiful story, and told it with an authentic voice.

This book is available as a Kindle download at Amazon.com

Review: The Last Guardian by Joan Hazel

2011-11-14T04:28:00.000-08:00

Charlie Jean (CJ) had a friend in the form of a brown dog when she was a little girl. She could communicate through thoughts with this dog, whose name was Minky, and she thought that this was normal. However, Gypsy Lynn, CJ's mother decided that CJ was too old to still have an imaginary friend and CJ was carted from one psychiatrist to another, until she underwent hypnosis to suppress these fanciful dreams and notions. Now, whenever CJ has a dream where it felt as if she left her body, she woke up with migraines.

The Guardian of Haven is brutally murdered and now Minky, who is a shape shifter, has to go to CJ and convince her that she is the next Guardian of Haven. Minky, who has guarded and loved CJ since she was a little girl.

Along the way CJ discovers more than what she bargained for.

The characters are strong and even when they shape shift they remain believable. The plot is well developed.

The various developing love stories throughout this story has me excited to read the follow-up in this series and I especially look forward to reading more about Ísold.

I enjoyed reading this awesome story. It is full to the brim with magic and fantasy, and entwined with interesting and fascinating insight into the beliefs of the Native American.

A superb read!

<3

Review: Children of the Elementi by Ceri Clark

2011-11-07T05:44:00.000-08:00

The Elementi Empire is destroyed and five young children are escorted to safety and hidden away so that they can never be found. The children are descendents from the families of Firellis, Ariels, Aquels, Terills, and Omnax. Each family has a power; Fire, Air, Water, Earth and Spirit.
When fourteen year old Jake discovers the white crystal and a letter from his parents, he is shocked to learn of his heritage. The moment he uses the power of the crystal it alerts Mirim, the Air Queen and caretaker of the Citadel, as well as the pretend Emperor, Aras, of his existence. Aras is half Elementi and half Magi, and the more powerful Jake becomes, the weaker Aras becomes, so needless to say, Aras wants Jake dead.
This leads to Mirim travelling inter-dimensionally to find Jake and then together they find the other children of the Elementi. (I could mention their names here, but the last one is a shocker, and I do not want to spoil your reading pleasure).

I found this story so absorbing and well-written that I read it in one sitting - I could not tear myself away from the screen! The story is action packed, and explains everything in such brilliant detail that I actually felt included, as if I was looking in onto their world.

I bought this e-book month’s ago, and I remember that I initially bought it, because I liked the cover. Somehow it got ‘mislaid’ on my Kindle for PC and in an effort to tidy up, I found it again. I am so glad I did!

<3

Recycled Souls: The Story behind the Story

2011-11-02T06:20:00.000-07:00

In 2008, we were happily entrenched in our lives in Drogheda, Co. Louth in the Republic of Ireland. We were already living here for eight years.

My daughter, Tahne was only eight years old when we moved to Ireland from South Africa. Thus, for her it was as if she never lived any where else. She grew up in Ireland. Her friends, habits and hobbies were all Irish. She went to school at Balbriggan Community College and did very well in her 4th Year. So well, that she received an award for Student of the Year. She was a prefect and she was going to be the Head Girl in 5th year. She had a serious crush on (not allowed to mention his name). Therefore, when we broke the news to her that we will be moving back to South Africa in July of 2008, she was (to put it mildly) devastated.

Like Elizabeth from Recycled Souls, Tahne is also one of those people who like to keep others happy by placing another's needs before her own. She cried in the taxi going to the airport. She cried on the airplane. To keep it short and simple ... she cried a lot, but still pretended that she was okay.

She started school at Cornwall Hill College, Centurion in November 2008, and suddenly she was a nobody. At Balbriggan Community College she was on top of the food chain. Because she did not want to look desperate at her new school, she hid in the bathrooms every lunch break. Then, a few weeks later, she made a friend.

Now, in 2011, she is in a steady relationship with a nice young man. She attends Design School South Africa and is studying towards her BA in Fashion Design. She is doing exceptionally well.

The first two chapters of Recycled Souls is based on this true to life sadness and total hopelessness, when parents or circumstances beyond your control direct your life onto a new path. Change really is not a choice, but sometimes, when we look back, it is not as bad as we thought it was at the time.

I firmly believe that everything happens for a good reason, although we do not understand the purpose of it at that precise moment. There is a place and a time for everything.

Review: Whatever became of the Squishies by Claire Chilton

2011-10-27T08:43:00.000-07:00

Carla is a purple girl who lives in a green world called Derombi. In Derombi, everything is green; skin color, eye color, furniture and furnishings - everything. So, it goes without saying that Carla does not fit into her world at all. She feels as if her life is yet to begin and that she has a greater purpose, but she is stuck in a world where her mother cleans and polishes the oven everyday and her brother is perfect in every way. A mysterious illness affects all the young people in Derombi, and Parklon suspects the unaffected Carla. When Carla and Parklon meet, he leads her to the archives where she learns that there is a possibility she is not who she always thought she was, and so the adventure begins which leads Carla to the discovery of who she really is.

I took pleasure in getting lost in this vibrant, multi-colored world. It was a nice read and I enjoyed the understated references towards racial divide between the different purple, green, blue and orange people. The references to common household cleaning agents incorporated into the story as landmarks and influential people made me smile. I was also amused at how well it was described that when a girl falls in love with a boy, how she could literally lose herself.

In this story, for me, there are many favourite highlights, but my ultimate quote is: “Carla had realised there wasn’t just one destined adventure in life, there were thousands of them.”

I would gladly recommend this book to any Young Adult (Teen) reader!

<3

Pre-Order Recycled Souls in Paperback

2011-10-17T07:07:00.000-07:00

For many of us, love is the wildest adventure we will ever encounter.

For most of us, love is the only significant reason.

FANTASY ISLAND BOOK PUBLISHING

...

Apple iBooks for when you are on the go

2011-10-16T05:54:00.000-07:00

I smiled broadly all the way home from school.

There was a skip in my step and a song in my heart, and it felt as if my life was on track, everything was perfect and nothing could ever change how I felt - nothing at all.

Available for download to your phone at the Apple online store: iBooks - Recycled Souls

Sparks, like bright orange fireflies spiral into the sinister darkness of the night sky, as if funneled up by an unseen hand from the huge fire, in the center of the imposing mud huts build around it.

Available for download to your phone at the Apple online store: iBooks -

Subject FWD

The first moment I saw her standing in front of the class waiting for Mr. Johnson, I did not pay any attention. Just another white girl I thought to myself, but as the minutes ticked by and I continued looking at her, because she made the time pass, I suddenly realized that I was uncontrollably interested in her.

Available for download to your phone at the Apple online store: iBooks -

The Great Divide

The square-rigger, weighing ninety tons, glides across the still waters, towed along with the tides. The waves lap at its sides lazily, while seagulls swoop languidly onto its deck. The sun beats down upon it relentlessly.

Should another boat pass it, it would look like a ghost ship, with not a soul upon its deck. However, should the innocent passerby, happen to board the ship and proceed down to its lower levels, a sight of great horror would await such a wretched person. For below the deck there is a sight beyond believe, fifty men and woman dead upon their backs.

Their eyes are closed and their hands twined together upon their chest. Here in the lowest deck, where not an inch of light manages to intrude, they lie dead.

Available for download to your phone at the Apple online store: iBooks -

William, A Vampire Pirate Trilogy

Review: Gone by Michael Grant

2011-10-10T05:17:00.000-07:00

In a small town in southern California, without warning, everybody older than 15 years of age just disappear - in mid-sentence. The teens left behind do not know why and at first they are excited at the prospect of living a life without any older teens or adults. Reality dawns quickly and when it starts getting dark and there is no dinner, nobody to chase away the monsters in the dark, they start getting scared. They are cut off from the world by a large glass dome in which they are trapped. Chaos starts to rule the streets as two opposing teams / gangs start to fight it out. Add to this magical powers and it makes for an adrenaline-filled adventure

This is a heroic tale of good versus evil.

I enjoyed reading this book. It was full of quests and journeys, although at times it had scenes of cruelty and violence as the 'leader' of the school on the hill wanted to reign supreme and there was nothing to stop him or his bullying nature. I also liked the blossoming romance between Sam and Lana, as well as the inventiveness of how they 'evolved' in finding food, learning to drive and in general taking care of themselves and the younger children.

Although I thoroughly enjoyed this book, I did not feel the urgent need to read the next installment titled Hunger.

<3

Marketing: Branding for self-publishing

2011-10-05T06:10:00.000-07:00

Although you would think that branding is reserved for products only, it can be applied to your books as well. After all, is an e-book not also a product?

What is a Brand? It is a collection of images or ideas that represents and is unique to your book. Things like title, author logo, personalized catchphrase, and cover design can contribute to your book’s brand.

Creating a strong brand image around your book can assist you in building customer loyalty and encourage your readers to spread the word about your book to their friends and family.

Consider household products where a strong brand is a value-added aspect for many consumers. Often, consumers will buy a product, even at a premium, simply because of the associated brand. For example, consumers might pay extra for a product with a strong brand association rather than buying the generic version, which often tastes or performs in the exact same way or delivers similar results.

How can you build your brand on a tight budget?

(1) Name and Slogan

Your title is very important.

Chances are you have already decided the title for your book. Changing the title halfway through is never a good idea, so work with what you have. When you came up with the title it was no doubt appropriate at the time, and you felt strongly that it reflects the true spirit of the story.

Memorable titles have short, easy to remember and easy to spell names. If your title is too long, try to shorten it in your marketing efforts by using an abbreviated form. For example, if your book is called “The Life Long Ambitions of Richard” get in the habit of always referring to it as simply“Richard’s Ambitions.” Your readers will no doubt refer to the book this way as well and also, it is easier to remember.

(2) Slogans

Catchphrases are an important part in your book’s brand, but have less permanence than the Title.

You can always change your catchphrase in an effort to ‘re-brand’ your book with a new cover design or create a new catchphrase for each new marketing campaign.

Do not change it too often, perhaps annually or, when you see sales are slowing down. People are attracted to different images and some catchphrases will have more impact on different groups of people.

To write an effective catchphrase make a list of the things your book embodies. Things like“love,” “romance,” “fantasy,” “vampires,” etc. Then write out as many short phrases that briefly conveys that image. Keep it to 5 words only!

Run your favorite options by friends and family or, ask a question on Facebook.

Then pick the most popular one.

(3) Image and Logo

Your author logo and cover design are perhaps the most important part of your book.

An author logo should be simple, easy to read, memorable, and easy to reproduce in a multitude of formats (i.e. on a sign, on your window, on flyers, in ads, on business cards, bags, t-shirts).

Your cover design must be exceptional enough to stand out in the multitude of other e-books out there all eager for the attention of a few readers.

Designing an author logo can be expensive, but there are ways to do it cheaply thanks to the Internet.

One of the most popular methods for creating a logo on a budget is to use a design contest. In a design contest, multiple designers submit mock-ups for you to evaluate, and you can generally get a quality logo designed this way. Or, if you are creative - which you must be being in this business - create your own logo.

Here is an example of my Logo: - Not good? Please leave me a comment.

Another option for quality logo creation on the cheap is LogoMaker. Here you can quickly and easily create your logo using an online application. LogoMaker also provides tools to put your logo onto promotional products like t-shirts and business cards.

Your author logo should be prominently displayed across all of your marketing materials: copyright page, website, social network sites, ads, flyers, business cards, on your company car or van, bags, etc. or even your Profile Pic.

Develop a color scheme that matches your logo and use this color scheme consistently across your marketing. Your business card, website, t-shirts, paint on your car and the outside of your house, what the heck even the paint on the inside of your house. Everything should match. This will unify all the aspects of your brand image and make your brand more memorable to your readers.

Thus, when your reader reads your first book, and you publish the second, third, etc. and they recognize your brand colors and author logo - because obviously your book title is different and chances are they did not remember your name - they will immediately, in their minds, associate the author logo and colors with that unforgettable first book you wrote.

Do Something Memorable

Do something to set your book apart from the competition; something simple and memorable and perhaps unusual that will keep your customers thinking about your book. For example, hold a special sale on your birthday every year that is well publicized, or name people in your next book after people or places in your town, city, or state. Get creative! Something memorable can quickly become part of your image and get people talking about your book.

Pulling It All Together

In order to create a strong brand, you’ll want to start getting your title, catchphrase and logo out there as much as possible.

(a) Create business cards and hand them out. Your business card should have information about how to contact you, your author logo, catchphrase and MOST importantly the link where to buy your book.

(b) Promotional products are a great way to get your author logo and catchphrase out to customers on a regular basis. Think of something unique.

· If you have a story that plays out in a coffee shop, print your cover design on coffee mugs (and on the other side the all important links of where to buy it, together with your author logo and your catchphrase.)

· If your story delves into vampires, have black t-shirts printed with the cover design (minus the title) on the front and on the back print the Title, Catchphrase and were to buy it.

· If your story is about techy-fantasy stuff, have rubber mouse-pads printed with your cover design, author logo, catchphrase and information on where to buy.

The options are limitless.

All of the above would mean that even if they did not buy a copy of your book initially, they are always seeing it and thinking about it and they are also likely to be sharing it with others without knowing it, and if something is always on their mind…. You become memorable!

You might think business cards, signs, logo's - what does that have to do with selling my books online?

Remember you are now the publisher - self-publisher - of your own book(s). The Big 6 names in publishing also have branding, logo's, etc., and here you are: The owner of a small publishing business - your own publishing business and therefore you have to sell yourself as you would sell any other company or business. I know we become our books, but step aside. Look at the two of you as seperate entities: Publisher & Book. Now act like a publisher and sell that book.

Imagine if you owned a little book shop down a dark, dank alley with the odd passerby (this is exactly how difficult it is for your readers to find your books on the internet). How would you get them to come to your shop on opening day? How will they find you if you are somewhere left from nowhere. The answer is obvious - advertise! An example: advertise your book in genre specific magazines (e.g. if your book is about puppies - get a quarter page advert in a book for animal lovers).

Do not discount the age old methods of advertising and marketing. You can advertise your book without the embarrasment of self-promotion on threads.

<3

Review: Losing Beauty by Johanna Garth

2011-10-03T03:04:00.000-07:00

Persey (Persephone) Campbell has a darkness within her that attracts normal people to her like a moth to a flame. Without being able to help themselves they tell her their most intimate secrets. Percy never liked this and thus avoided people as best she could.

Daniel Hartnett is a lawyer who has it all. Except now he’d like to meet someone and settle down. When Daniel meets Persey he discovers the first girl he’s ever met who is immune to his special talent.

Haden is the king of the Underworld with a plan to make Persey his immortal queen.

Now, if you know Greek Mythology, you just know how it should end. This however does not deter you from reading and devouring every word. You want to will the story into another direction, because you want it to end the way you need it to end. I loved Daniel and near the end when he was rushing in to save the damsel in distress I felt an excited anticipation on the pit of my stomach.

This is a good clean romance, and if you love Greek mythology, you will absolutely be keen on reading this book. It is well written and it flows wonderfully to the end.

I absolutely loved the story.

Review: When The Wind Blows by James Patterson

2011-09-23T07:15:00.000-07:00

Frannie is a young veterinarian whose husband was recently murdered. She meets Kit, a troubled FBI agent who lost his family in a tragic airplane crash. Whilst walking in the forest, Frannie makes the most unforgettable discovery. She glimpses, through the trees, an 11 year old girl, Max, who has the wings of a bird. Max and her brother escape the scientific laboratories where they were created and then flee into the woods. And so begins the nervous tension and unfolding of a story of deceiving, secrets and man creating new species by combining the old.

I am the first to admit that I am not a big fan of James Patterson, but I genuinely enjoyed this story. It read quickly and easily and I am certain all Young Adult readers will enjoy this story as well (if they have not read it already). The story was action packed which kept the pages turning.

<3

Review: Waterfall by Lisa T. Bergren

2011-09-17T05:03:00.000-07:00

Gabrielle Betarrini and her sister Evangelia discover handprints in the walls at a dig site of their archaeological mom. Curiously when Gabi touches it, the wall feels warm under her hand. Inquisitively they both place their hands into the prints and are transported back into time. To 1355, Italy. Gabi lets go a few seconds before Lia and this causes her to ‘land’ in the past a whole week before Lia’s arrival. This sets in motion Gabi’s adjustment to her new, strange environment with gallantry and chivalry and in a time where woman still rode side-saddle and was expected to cower with fear in the face of danger. Marcello Forelli finds her intriguing but he is betrothed to Lady Rossi - an arrangement that will strengthen Castello Forelli’s ties with Siene.

The story flowed nicely. I enjoyed all the action and tension. Most of all I enjoyed the cautious, guarded way they fell in love with each other, the nervous tension. I thoroughly enjoyed this story and it is not often when I read an e-book that I can say I wished it never ended. I so wanted Gabi to choose with me - to stay.

My Name is Lucas

2011-09-13T05:10:00.000-07:00

VERSE ONE

He is not here because he has a drug problem. He is not here because he has a drinking problem. He is here, because he has no family. He grew up in an orphanage.

Hungry and lonely - the faith and believe he once had in other people, soon proved to be empty hopes.

The first time he noticed he was different from everybody else was the day he flew from the roof of the Catholic Orphanage where he grew up.

Sister Anne liked to point out that he was her little angel, with his huge blue eyes, which seemed pale and eerily unusual, especially against his dark, tanned skin and white hair.

Since he could remember, he had this believe that he could fly.

He stepped forward and stood on the edge of the three-storey institutional red-brick building and then he leapt, without thinking twice.

For a moment, he incredibly soared through the sky. He felt the wind in his hair, the breeze kissing him softly on his cheeks. He felt laughter build up in him. Flying felt familiar to him.

Then he started plummeting.

He saw the ground rushing towards him with unbelievable speed. He fell and rolled, and the shock shuddered through his body. He waited for the darkness to descend over him, but it did not happen.

He heard screams coming towards him, and then he was looking up into many faces.

He smiled his sweetest smile up at Sister Anne, as she kneeled down beside him, crossing herself vigorously, repeatedly.

She said something in Spanish, and then she asked worriedly, “Are you okay, Lucas?”

“I seem to be.” He smiled up at her innocently.

Sister Anne held up her hand and asked, “How many fingers?”

“Five,” he answered and she gasped.

He laughed, “Three. I am okay. Really.”

“Move all your fingers and toes,” she commanded sternly, moving onto anger after her initial shock.

He moved them all, and then Mr. Reynolds, the caretaker, lifted him into his arms. He carried him to his bed, in a room that he shared with nineteen other boys.

Mr. Reynolds lay him down in his bed, while Sister Anne hovered over him.

Amongst themselves, talking in rushed sentences, they decided that he was unbelievably lucky, and it was thanks to God only that he did not kill myself.

Sister Angelina announced that evening in study hall that going up to the roof ‘will forthwith be strictly forbidden’.

It is true, he has never been sick.

To continue reading, please visit the My Name is Lucas bookpage at Smashwords

More purchasing options to follow.

At last it is here - Breaking Dawn - Part 1

2011-09-12T03:22:00.000-07:00

Excitement is in the air.

The long awaited Breaking Dawn (Part 1) is on its way. Snippets and sneak previews are going viral all over the net. Who can help but be excited? I bet even the closet Twillight-fans are jumping out of their skins - sneaking a peek at the sneak preview trailers, when they think nobody is watching!!

If you still have not read this best selling book, it is available online at Amazon and at all good bookstores.

Interview with John Hansen, Author of Lobotomy

2011-09-10T03:32:00.000-07:00

John Hansen is a teenage author of a crime novel and several flash fiction stories including the Lobotomy trilogy. He lives in New England with his family and dog and has always loved to write, especially reading and writing murder mystery novels. Obviously, his true passion lies with writing and he hopes to become published in the coming years.

He also owns and operates a book blog, so if you need a book reviewed for free, go there.

Blog: http://incessantdroningofaboredwriter.wordpress.com

Author Page: http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/MysteryRiter

Lobotomy: http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/80964

Can you tell me a little about your favorite books?

Of course. My favorite would have to be Lobotomy, the first of my books. Lobotomy is a free flash fiction story complete at 900 words, the first in the trilogy. Surprisingly, it was NOT originally designed to be a trilogy, but when I received a five-star review, two FB likes, when I became two users’ favorite author (you included!!!) and when Lobotomy received a number of downloads all after only two days, I thought, what the heck. And thus, the trilogy was born. So far I have received a lot of positive feedback. In Lobotomy, a man wakes up in an unfamiliar house with a bloody knife in his hand and a dead body at his feet. He doesn’t know who he is, where he is, how he got there, what he was doing or even if he killed the man. But he remembers one thing: the identity of the victim…

You are stranded on a desert island with only one book, one CD, and one DVD--what are they?

Hopefully, I will never be stranded on a desert island but if it comes to that, I would bring along Mission Road by Rick Riordan as a book. Mission Road is the second-to-last book in Riordan’s adult crime fiction Tres Navarre. It is my favorite in that series to say the least. To be the best in that series is quite a remarkable feat, given that every single book is excellent. As of now I would bring along Party Rock Anthem by LMFAO for a CD – I am sure no one here likes that song so I will blame it on my lousy, teenage music tastes (: – but my favorite songs shift monthly. Again, lousy teenage music taste. Assuming that I am smart enough to bring along a DVD player, I would bring a newer season of “The Office” (except for last season); it doesn’t matter which one as long as Michael Scott is in it. Or, if it had to be a movie, I would choose “Date Night” for sure. Steve Carrel all the way!

Do you find it difficult to balance school with writing and promoting?

We’ll have to see. Last year, I was fine balancing school with writing my crime novel but I only started it towards the end of the year when the homework load had died down slightly. This school year, it will certainly be more difficult with the increase in homework load and the addition of promoting. Add sports into that pile and I have little time to write. I will try though. Hopefully, I will find time to write and promote but I am certain it will become difficult. We’ll just have to see.

Describe the perfect writing environment.

When I was younger and obsessed with Cornelia Funke’s (a renowned MG fantasy author) Inkworld Trilogy, I attended a book premier for one of the books where I eagerly listened to Cornelia speak. She described her personal writing environment. Though my own writing environment is ideal, consisting of a simple desk and cheap metal chair, Cornelia’s writing environment is my dream workplace – the perfect writing environment in my mind. Each day she gets her children ready for school, sits by her pool in the warm California (where she lives) sun, plops down on her beach chair – the area is tranquil and distraction-less – and she writes. And writes. And writes. Non-stop. Though this doesn’t sound like much to some people, it is, in my mind, the perfect writing environment.

If you could write your own epitaph, what would it say?

Beneath This Simple Stone

That Marks His Resting Place
He, #1 Bestselling Crime Author, Lies
He May Be Gone From Our Home
But He Lives On In Our Hearts
His Love Never Once Wanes
May His Books And His Memory Live On Forever.

A little corny I know, but it would do. The “#1 best selling crime author” line is simply blind hope, but what are we going to do? A boy can dream…

Who is the one person living or dead that you would like to have dinner with?

I am sure that you are expecting an answer of Abraham Lincoln, George Washington, or Albert Einstein etc. Though it would be extremely interesting to converse with those people (maybe not Albert Einstein; I would have trouble understanding him), I would much rather have dinner with Christopher Paolini (he is the author of the Eragon series – I love that series – he was published at fifteen and quickly reached the top of the NYT Bestsellers List). I have mad respect for any author published during their teenage years (as that is my goal) but because Christopher reached #1 on the bestsellers list at only fifteen, I really need to ask him how he did it. Further, I must ask him what his technique for self-promoting was. It must have been one darn good technique, since because of it, Christopher’s story wound up on the desk of a well-known literary agent. He originally self published his book and I must know what he did to advertise it. Though I may leap out at him in a frenzy of jealousy and rage occasionally throughout dinner, I believe that we could have a very interesting conversation. And I must know that secret!

If you could have one superpower, what would it be?

I am not the type of person who would use a superpower to fight evil – too scared, sorry – if I had one, but I would use it for my personal use instead. Selfish? You bet! J. Accordingly, my superpower would be the ability to force every single English-speaking person in the world to read my book so it would reach number one on the NY Times bestsellers list. It’s not much of a superpower, but it would do. I can already smell that bestsellers list… Of course, if it was a good day, I may be kind enough to lend it to a friend, but only for a little. I cannot let my position of number one usurped!

Can you tell me a little about your current project?

Sure. I have just published my humor poem about the Ancient Romans and I am about to begin my crime novel. I have high hopes for this novel because it is a very unique idea that seems as though it will be sellable. I can easily be wrong, though. I am more the write-as-you-go type author, so the novel isn’t planned in too much detail, since I enjoy the freedom of tweaking the plot as I go. Here is a brief blurb.

"When a world famous crime author who writes about being a serial killer is murdered, his seventeen-year-old son finds a second ID burrowed beneath a pile of dirty socks in his father’s closet. He discovers that his father used to be someone else; someone who was the prime suspect in over six murder cases. And he begins to wonder if his father’s famous crime stories are just fiction…"

Thank you, John Hansen, and I am looking forward to seeing your book on a shelve in a traditional brick and mortar bookstore soon.

<3

William, A Vampire Pirate Trilogy

2011-09-03T04:30:00.000-07:00

From William, A Vampire Pirate Trilogy

TODAY: CHAPTER THIRTEEN

I put my feet up onto the supports of the chair across from me. The mega cup of coffee in my hand is cold, while the sun shines hot down on my shoulders. I keep my face in the shade, because the brightness makes me pull my eyes together and it gives me a headache.

I have been lost in my own thoughts, dreaming of my past, for hours, looking absentmindedly at the people walk past me. A million faces, all of them unfamiliar.

Then I see him and I sigh despondently while my eyes follow him sadly.

His dark hair falls across his brow, and his eyes look towards me, but they do not see me. He walks past me and towards the group of kids standing in front of the cinema. They greet each other laughingly. He must feel my eyes on him, as he turns and looks over his shoulder. I continue staring, but still he does not see me.

Although I am only sixteen, I have never experienced romance. I have seen it many times; I have experienced it through the people I see walking along a river. I have longed for someone to look into my eyes and know that they only see me. Someone to whisper softly in my ear that they only want me, and that they love only me.

I have an instinct that tells me it would be great to have someone love me. I wonder what it would feel like to grow old. To be like the meager mortals around me, to roll a dice, to live on the edge, to be daring and know that it might kill me. I have been around the world. I have seen the world change. I have had a million different hairstyles, fashions. I belong a hundred miles from anyone, but there is a yearning inside me, and I need to know what it feels like to fall in love. To tumble head over heels in love, and to have someone stumble for me. I wonder how it feels to love someone unconditionally as I have read so many times in books.

The server walks towards me again, and this time she smiles when she catches my eye. She has been around to my table a few times this morning, but I have ignored her on purpose.

I smile up at her now, “The bill please.”

She opens her leather folder and she places a slip on my table.

I lean down to get my bag, where I left it lying on the floor next to my table and I pick it up onto my lap. After pulling the zipper open, I dig into the bag, which is hopelessly too big and impractical. Eventually I find my purse, and then I take out a few notes and smile towards the server who has stepped away. She comes towards me again, and I give her the money.

She says friendly, “Thank you. Please come again.”

Smiling friendly in return, I push the chair I am sitting on backwards and then I get up.

If Shayne could hear my thoughts now, not that he can, he would be upset. He loves his extended life, but I am bored. There is nothing I can do, nothing exciting. What fun is there in bungee jumping, when you know that you would never die? Is the action of jumping down an impossibly high bridge with only a rubber band attached to the ankle, not ultimately, purposefully defying death?

I walk away to the parking area and towards my car. When I am close enough to my car, I press the button on my remote and I can hear the doors unlocking from a distance away - a loud popping noise. I get into the car and back it out of the parking spot. After I pay for my parking ticket, I drive the short distance home.

We live in a gated security estate. We moved here a month ago, after we came here on holiday a year ago. The crime in South Africa is so high, and nobody seems to care if people go missing, it does not even reach the newspaper, so it is easy for us to maintain our lifestyle without suspicion falling on us too quickly. It is not so difficult getting what we need to sustain us in modern times. It used to be that people were more frightened and wary of strange things, but these days there are actually people who want to be like us. There are people who commit worse crimes on a daily basis. We kill for survival, while there are those who kill for absolutely no purpose.

I stop in front of our house. It is a double storey and the neighbors live hopelessly too close. The spaces the houses are built in are limited, and sometimes I miss the wide-open spaces of long ago. Peering briefly into the large Koi fish tank standing to the left of our front door, I walk towards our front door, which has a large elephant carved into it. I push the heavy door open and I can hear the television on in the back.

I walk through the house towards the sound. In the living room, I see Shayne sprawled across a chair. The large brown leather chairs are wide enough to sleep on, and you cannot help it when your body naturally gravitates horizontally onto them.

I look at Shayne amused, sometimes I think he is only fooling himself, saying that he is still enjoying himself. I am sure that sometimes though he must also feel that sense of purposelessness and now I can see the boredom on his strong face. He has a prominent nose, which he always refers to as his roman-tic profile. His clipped reddish brown hair is short in the back and on the sides, and then he likes to gel the front so that it looks like bed hair. I have told him a million times that this has gone out of fashion, but he likes to say that he does not follow fashion he is a trendsetter.

“Where is Amanda?” I ask him.

He looks up lazily, “Didn’t you see her at the mall?”

“No.”

“She left about an hour ago, to go shopping. I do not know what she wants to do with more clothes.”

“You mean shoes.” I sit down on the single chair and smile.

He is watching a National Geography show about sharks and I join him, but I only stare blankly at the screen. I have swum with sharks before, so the show is uninteresting, because I know everything there is to know about sharks already.

I hear Amanda arrive, before she stops in front of the house and I unfold myself from the chair, stretching my legs. I walk towards the kitchen.

The many packages in her arms hide her when she walks into the kitchen. She near drops them onto the counter and then I start rummaging through the bags looking for a mini-size chocolate mousse container.

While I am looking through the bags, Amanda says, “Susanna! Stop that. Pack away the things instead of just pushing them aside.”

Usually I am just Susie, so now I grunt, but start packing it away anyway. She is obviously in a foul mood. Shopping has never had a calming effect on her. She is from an era where food magically appeared on her plate, presented by servants.

I find the mousse, but leave it to one side, while I continue to pack away the groceries.

Amanda stands just outside the backdoor, and she lights a cigarette. She hates the newest craze where people have decided that smoking is bad for you, and she could no longer smoke where she wanted. When she goes off on one of her rants, she always insists, mockingly, that smoking only harms her. Second hand smoke is no worse than pollution – surely. She also likes to point out how alcohol, the biggest demon of all is allowed to be consumed. Sure, while the person is drinking, it is only harming them but if you consider that most of these people drink the money right out of the mouths of their children, they drink and drive killing innocent victims, they get abusive, physically and verbally. She does not smoke inside the house because admittedly she also thinks it smells awful and that it is a bad habit. A bad habit she does not even get any enjoyment from at all.

She finishes her cigarette and then she comes in. Her addiction fed, she is calmer and she smiles, “Thank you, Susie. You must come see what I bought.”

I pick up the chocolate mousse from the counter and I follow her out of the kitchen and up the stairs to her room.

She upends the bags one after the other onto the bed in her room, and then she ruffles through the pile. She finds what she is looking for, and holding it up in front of her from shoulder to shoulder, I see the green top. It is nice, but not something, I would wear. Amanda likes bling and shine, whereas I like to wear whatever the latest fashion is. I do not prefer designer to department store for everyday clothes, but it is always nice when the clothes has a fitted feeling.

I say, “It’s nice. The color suits you. What else did you get?”

I look through the pile of clothes on her bed with one hand, and then I sit back against the headboard, with my legs pulled up in front of me. She shows me what she bought and I eat my mousse. Although I cannot taste the decadent chocolate, I love the texture on my tongue. I love the way my tongue folds into the curve of the spoon when it licks the mousse off it.

Later when she has squashed her clothes, labels and all into her overfull closet, she changes the subject from clothes to me, “Are you enjoying school here?”

“I suppose so. You know kids are also home schooled here, and nobody will come knocking on our door when I do not go to school?”

“Yes, but it gives you routine.”

I hate it when she assumes the mother figure; she is only twenty-six and we are not even family.

“Yeah, I know and routine gives me purpose.”

She smiles, “There you go. We all have our purpose. Shayne works at the University as a History Professor, and you go to school.”

I interrupt her, “And you keep us all together - the hardest job of all. I know, don’t remind me again.”

They have promised me that this will be our last move for a while, and I only have to go to school for the next year and then university – again. This time around though, I can start working. People stay younger looking for longer these days, so it will be safe for me to join the workforce. I am looking forward to not moving too soon again. It is getting more and more difficult moving around with customs, passports and transfer cards; also, the invention of networks and the internet has restricted our movements slightly. I have had so many forged birth certificates I cannot remember the real year I was born.

Maybe I will be able to make some friends, where before I have had to avoid them or when I did make friends, I had to leave them behind like junk collected along the way.

I have lived with Shayne and Amanda since the day I turned sixteen, two hundred years ago.

To read more, please visit William, A Vampire Pirate Trilogy bookpage at Smashwords.com

More purchasing options to follow.

Fantasy Island Book Publishing

2011-09-01T04:22:00.000-07:00

Recycled Souls and I have been included in the line-up of bestselling authors from Fantasy Island Book Publishing, a new format publisher, working with the best new authors to publish the very best quality in online and print literature.

Best Selling Authors at Fantasy Island Book Publishing, include:

Terps- Elaine Gannon

This is a story about a marriage. An interpreter marries the only hearing member of a famous deaf family. The interpreter has chosen to build her life around the deaf world, but her husband was born into it and would rather do just about anything else.

HarBinGer in the Mist - Anabell Martin

18-year-old Lindsey and her mother unexpectedly inherit a beautiful Antebellum home in Walterboro, South Carolina. As she fights her feelings for the esoteric priest-to-be, Lindsey begins to unravel the violent history of the Marla Rae.

The Rose Tower - Connie J. Jasperson

From the first moment he is in the strange land of Neveyah, Edwin finds himself fighting for his life. Obsessed with rescuing the girl that he dreams of nightly, Edwin struggles to develop the unique abilities that will allow him to steal Marya back from the Rose Tower and save her from the madman who holds her prisoner.

Don't Feed the Fairies - Eileen Gormley

Cytolene gets stranded on Earth and her plans to go home to Eris gets delayed when she discovers she's not the only alien on Earth. She enlists the help of Steve, but why does he think she is his girlfriend and why is he so jealous of Mike, the lethal ex-Marine?

After ILium - S. M. Swartz

Three thousand years ago, Greeks fought Trojans below the fortress of Ilium. Now new college graduate Alex Parris is seeking his own adventure at Ilium. He meets Elena, who draws him into an affair---then forces him to fight for her! All that matters in the end is what happens to Alex AFTER ILIUM.

Whatever Became of the Squishies - Claire Chilton

In the colony of Derobmi the people are green and clean - they worship the gods of soap powder, and consider it a deadly sin to 'dirty another's carpet'. When a mysterious disease runs rampant throughout Derobmi, Carla is drawn into a dangerous adventure, which spans from the ancient archives, to the dark caverns beneath Foamy Mansion.

Children Of The Elementi - Ceri Clark

Jake has an ordinary life, until he stumbles on an ancient crystal. When Jake touches the pendant, the Magi Emperor in Eleria is alerted and he summons an evil fire demon across the dimensional barrier to hunt and kill the last of the Elementi.

Miranda Warning - Marilyn Rucker Norrod

Why is someone killing the band geeks of Richland, Texas? Miranda Beeling would like to know, since she is one of them. Motivated by concern for her friends and an inescapable feeling that she might be next on the victim list, Miranda decides to investigate the case.

Emeline and the Mutants - Rachel Tsoumbakos

People disappeared with no explanation and there was a sudden upsurge in murder and accidental deaths. Something interesting happened, the viruses used to create the cure for AIDS mutated and now people were no longer predisposed to illness, they were now more apt to becoming a zombie, vampire, werewolf or a troll.

Sofia’s Story (Shattered Seeds) - Clu Gallagher

A quilt – just patches of a German family’s life, worn soft by time, but representing a lot more to its owner. Sofia had overcome life’s adversities by clinging to the traditional German values of her very sheltered upbringing in post WWI Berlin until she meets Janene McDeenon.

Brother,Betrayed - Danielle Raver

Three princes hear a prophecy, and they will discover how far it will drive them to explore love, loyalty, and their own souls. When conflict comes to their land, their ascension into power is darkened by betrayal.

Ednor Scardens - Kathleen Barker

Life becomes tangled when Kate falls hard for Gabe's darkly handsome older brother, Michael. When she silently witnesses a frightening scene between Gabe and Father John O'Conner, a predatory priest, Kate is unaware that she is O'Conner's intended next victim.

The Land Of Nod - Gary Hoover

Jeff is a teenage boy who finds a portal that transports him into another dimension. As Jeff searches for clues to his father’s disappearance, he is accused by some of being a spy and by others to be a prophesized figure who may be the key to victory in a developing war.

Losing Beauty By Johanna Garth

Persey Campbell’s town have terrible secrets and she is the unfortunate repository for all of them. Haden is the king of the Underworld with a plan to make Persey his immortal queen. How far will those who love Persey go to protect her from the inner darkness that threatens to destroy her soul.

The King Of Egypt By J. J. Makins

Raised a warrior, Tigris, crowned Nitiqreti, is the first female pharaoh. With a beauty that can bring men to their knees and a power that reaps respect from an army, she is prepared to take on any enemy. When a self-proclaimed king threatens to conquer her throne, Tigris is ready to declare war.

The Last Good Knight By Connie J. Jasperson

Swashbucklers, pirates, sword fighting courageous Knights and Fair maidens abound in The Last Good Knight. Two great loves form the framework of his life anchoring his sanity and making a love triangle unlike any other. The invincible Great Knight, eventually becomes the Lost Knight.

The Night Watchman Express - Alison DeLuca

Each night, Miriam hears the lonely whistle of the Night Watchman Express. The sound of the train gives her terrible nightmares – dreams of an underground factory, and a laboratory where brutal human experiments take place. Now, what she has always feared more than anything is about to come true.

<3

My New Favorite Author: John Hansen

2011-08-31T00:42:00.000-07:00

John Hansen is a dedicated teenage writer who lives with his family and dog. He has always had a strong passion for creative writing, especially writing and reading murder mysteries. Even in his young age he has already completed a novel, Down by the Bay.

John Hansen wrote a Flash Fiction Trilogy (clever!) and you can read all three for FREE at Smashwords.

Lobotomy : A man finds himself in an unfamiliar house with a bloodied knife clenched in his fist and a dead body at his feet. The man doesn't know where he is, how he got there, what he is doing, who he is or if he even killed the dead person. But he remembers one thing: the identity of the victim...

This part has an easy flow and whilst reading it you would expect it to be just about another random murderer. But the end does 'wow' you.

The Reason : Wondering why this mysterious character did what he did? And who is he, in the first place? Who is his father? What did his father do? And why did he forget everything? Be prepared for answers as you are taken back before the murder… and the surprise of your life…
John Hansen explains in detail the dynamics between the two main characters. At the end, the author leaves you with a cliff-hanger.

The Murder : You have seen the aftermath. You have met the victim, befriended the murderer and you have discovered the motive. Now all you have to see is the murder. Pretty straightforward, right? Oh, if only it was that simple…

The use of words are good and there is a good flow to the story. I found the first two so good, but this instalment left me with a few questions though - like his fifteen year investigation and he only received the securtity tapes now.

Overall it was a very mesmerising tale of psychological suspense and after reading this Trilogy, I am looking forward to reading his completed novel, Down by the Bay, once it gets published.

<3

Being Self-Published

2011-08-30T00:16:00.000-07:00

After a lot of deliberation, I have decided to post this and in so doing, give myself a pat on the back. I am going to tell, whoever is interested, what has been happening with my novels - in other words the business end of it all. Usually I do speak about my books a lot, no matter where I am, and yes, mom I have seen you roll your eyes, when I start a sentence with, ‘My books …”

I sincerely appreciate every single person who has downloaded one of my free short stories or have purchased one of my full-length novels. I have watched my sales climb with great excitement. For taking the time to write a review or even to give it a star-rating of one, thank you very much, I know in this day and age time is a scares commodity.

Why did I enter this competitive market? Maybe it was all pre-destined, who really knows? I wrote Recycled Souls in 2009, just when self-publishing started rearing its beautiful head, and here I am today. Perhaps if I started writing earlier, I would have lost all hope and it would have always remained a document on my PC, lost somewhere between other important documents of absolutely no importance. I love to write. I love the way words come together and then when you look back it makes a beautiful story, sometimes even I am flabbergasted that those words erupted from my mind. I love the fact that people are downloading my books, and that is why I keep my books priced low, because it is not about the money, ultimately it is about sharing my story.

In a way, I have always been writing something, albeit for most of my life, my creative talents were directed towards proposals and presentations. I started writing Recycled Souls in October 2008 and in April 2009, I published it on Lulu - I cannot explain the sheer joy of receiving this printed book by me and holding it in my hands - for real! This first, poorly edited book, sold 16 copies. I was inexplicably amazed, that there was even one person, never mind sixteen who wanted to read a story I wrote. I thought, I have made it, I am going to be rich and famous but alas, self-promotion takes hard, hard work and unrelenting focus.

I entered into The International Amazon Breakthrough Novel Awards 2010 with Recycled Souls. Recycled Souls made it to the top 250 from 5,000 entries, but the review from Publisher’s Weekly, was nothing less than harrowing - shattered my ideas and ideals - but looking back I should be ashamed for sending in such a badly edited manuscript.

Eventually, I moved on and wrote Subject FWD in a weekend and then I wrote the first thirty-thousand words for The Great Divide. When I put my mind to it, I can type 5,000 coherent words together into a story in one day. Along came the International Amazon Breakthrough Novel Awards 2011. I quickly typed the last twenty-thousand words for The Great Divide and entered it. Once again, I got to the top 250 entries from 5,000. This time the Publisher Weekly reviewer was kinder and it was that last rushed words that sunk me.

In the meantime, I wrote William the Damned, which has been developed into a 100,000+-word story, but I am so busy marketing myself that I do not get a chance to at least do the first edit on it.

In March 2010, I published Recycled Souls to Kindle and in July 2010 I published Subject FWD and The Great Divide to Kindle. By December 2010, I sold 41 copies. These were at various prices ranging between 2.99 and 4.99. I could never decide which was the right price. At one point, I even decided to cost my stories at 0.00007 cents per word so that the reader would not have to pay the same price for a story of 30,000 words and one of 70,000 words. It would be mutually fair.

In September 2010, I published to Smashwords. By December 2010, I sold 1,552 paid copies on Smashwords.

From September 2010 I also started adding free flash fiction for downloads on Smashwords. This went well and All Over Again became a bestseller.

I thought, now all the agents would want me, so in January 2011, I queried fifty literary agents. Those kind enough to come back to me either said they do not represent authors already published, or they cannot represent me because I am in South Africa and then others just send me the standard, kindly note saying ‘go away’ in the most friendly way. One nice agent told me being self-published was being published. Although my books were available digitally, who would not want to see their books in print, on a shelve, being touched and caressed by potential readers? I googled left, right and center, but it seems South African Agents are a closed-knit, secretive society, and still I have not found a single one to whom I can send a query.

This month I got noticed. Amazon offered my Flash Fiction for free, and in four days, The Dark, Dark House, The Beginning of a Life Misunderstood, Would you remember ME and All Over Again became best sellers. Firstly, I was shocked that so many people wanted to read any of it. However, becoming a bestseller on Amazon was my first real encounter with criticism and it hurts! Before this everybody who read my books and left a review said how much they loved it, and gave me a few pointers, but now they were being harsh and straightforward. (Painful)

Nevertheless, today, eighteen months after publishing my first e-book, altogether 35,256 perfect strangers (not adding all the other places my free stories are posted) have read words that came from me, a story born and created by my imagination. It is like being in a dream world. Last week I got an email from a young author asking for advice and my first thought was, Me? Another young author, actually one of my favorite authors, refers to me in one of his books - again, Me?

I am not sure where this will take me, I do know however that I have spent countless hours trying to create a presence on the internet, but do you know, really know, how big it is out there? I honestly think I should be spending my time writing stories, self-publishing them, hope they are interesting enough to read and when I close my eyes at night, I will build dream bookshops with my books on the shelves. Such Bliss!

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2011-08-29T03:03:00.000-07:00

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New Cover: Subject FWD

2011-08-29T02:40:00.000-07:00

from Subject: FWD

So Stephen has hope and delight in his heart as he drives to his mom's house, he sees the sunrise up over the mountains in the distance, the sky clear, and blue, already it feels like it is going to be a hot, sweltering day.

He stops in front of his mother's house, and everything is as it was every Tuesday, for the last eight months.

When he gets to the front door, he turns the handle and bumps into the door with his shoulder, so used to the fact that when he usually turned the knob, the door would give way and let him in, but not this Tuesday - the door stays firmly shut.

He thought that maybe she had just overslept, not something that usually happens, because he would normally just go in and smell the freshly brewed coffee all the way down the hall as he walked to the kitchen, but now he knocks, and waits.

After a while, he knocks again, and then he hears Bobby and Beth on the other side of the door, their toenails clicking on the floor as they walk up and down the hall. He hears them lamenting softly, and then one of them start to scratch on the door.

A sudden panic starts at the pit of his stomach and soon it feels as if that same feeling of dread was going to choke him. He feels his air passages squeezing close slowly, as if he was having an asthma attack, and then suddenly through the fogginess of fear that now clouded his thoughts he remembers that he has a spare key for her door in his car.

He turns away from the door reluctantly, expecting her to open the door at any minute, her hair dripping wet, freshly dressed and making excuses, laughingly that she had overslept, perhaps saying, “Give an old woman a break, nice to sleep in once in a while.”

He knows how she hated going to work these days, how unhappy she was at work, and that she found it difficult to motivate herself enough to get out of bed on a weekday, so that would be the reasonable explanation - she just overslept.

He walks to the car, takes the spare key for her door out of the cubbyhole and walks back to the front door, without even realizing that he had done so. He unlocks the door, feeling appalled because he was intruding on his mom's privacy. He knows it was ridiculous and that she would have no problem with him just coming in whenever he wanted to, but to him it still felt wrong.

Bobby immediately rushes towards him, moaning softly and then turning back towards the hall, wanting Stephen to follow him.

Beth waits at the end of the hall, in the entrance to his mom's room, looking at him suspiciously.

He speaks to them in a calming voice, terror intruding his thoughts, because the dogs were behaving as if something was very, very wrong.

Stephen walks faster, almost falling over Bobby in the process, and stops himself from snapping at the dog.

Just outside his mom's door, he hesitates for the briefest moment and then looks around the door.

His mom is lying on the bed on her back, her eyes staring fixedly up at the ceiling. If not for the ghastly look on her face, the way her mouth contorted in a scream of terror, and frozen that way for all of time, then he would have thought that she was just lying there, staring up at the ceiling.

He sinks down onto his knees, grief overcoming him so swiftly, and sweeping through him in one blow.

The tears well up in his eyes and silently run down his cheeks. He is the youngest and he is not ashamed to admit that his mother has always cosseted and protected him. Loving her with an unconditional love that was unmeasured by the amount of stars in the evening sky.

She was his confidant, his best friend from when he was only a little boy, even before his father just upped and left them one day. Stephen knows now that he left his family for another woman, but when he was young, his mom never hinted or mentioned the reason for him leaving, always letting him believe that his father was a super-hero.

Lisa told him when he was twelve, out of spite. His mom then sat with him, they spoke late into the night and she made Stephen realize and repeat after her, that his father leaving never had anything to do with a little boy of five, that it never was Stephen's fault.

All these thoughts rush through his mind simultaneously and he has blanked off, it is as if he is somewhere else, not here in this room, where one of the two most important people in his life is lying lifeless in her bed.

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New Cover: The Great Divide

2011-08-28T03:15:00.000-07:00

from The Great Divide

I watch her walking shyly towards Anne’s desk, and she sits down. The sun glimmers off her hair and I feel a strange twinge in my heart, a feeling I have never experienced before.

I notice with a sudden thrust of jealousy the way she looks at Johnathan and I try to look away, but it is as if she has weaved a spell around me, and it is only by force that I am able to look back at Mr. Johnson and concentrate on what he is teaching us.

The bell chimes, an irritating xylophone sound, and I pick my bag up from off the floor.

By accident, I end up walking out of the classroom, behind her and Anne. When she turns to reply to something Anne said, I notice with a plunge in my stomach her elongated neck, the little wisps of hair and her perfectly shaped ear.

What is wrong with me? I wonder frustrated and it is with relief that I see Dennis walking towards me. He would be able to take my mind of this unwanted state of affairs.

I cannot believe that I could be so attracted to this girl – not only is she the complete opposite of me, but never have I ever had the slightest interest in a white girl before.

“Hey, Vincent,” Dennis greets me as he walks towards me.

“Hey,” I catch myself that I am still frowning, and then I smile at him.

“Have you got any news yet from Mr. Jackson?”

We walk in the opposite direction of Anne and Chrissie, and I say, “Yeah, he phoned last night and he wants to meet with us tomorrow afternoon.”

“Great.”

We walk in silence, and when we cross the quad, I cannot help looking back at Chrissie and I notice her standing next to Anne, while Anne is speaking to one of her many superficial friends.

All the girls walking past Dennis and me greet us friendly and usually I find this flattering, but today it just feels overbearing.

Dennis interrupts my thoughts, “Are we practicing today?”

“What do you think? I think we should just have a break today and see what Mr. Jackson wants first.”

“I suppose you’re right, we should take this afternoon off. I need to start spending some time with Clara anyway,” Dennis says with a sigh.

I laugh, “Yeah, before she leaves you again. I swear girls are so fickle, they want to be with the pop star but then they don’t want to put up with waiting around.”

“She’s getting there. Are you going with to the Blues Bar this weekend?”

“Might as well.”

“There’s usually a few single ‘hotties’ hanging around.”

I laugh. When it comes to hot, single women, I never stand back.

I do not see Chrissie again until break, and she is sitting under the tree with all of Anne’s friends - they are all laughing and joking – she fit in right from the start.

We do not sit under the tree. There is a common presumption that this space is for the Senior Student Council, yet the two black students on the council do not sit here either. Most think that it is because they would rather prefer to spend break doing other things, but we all know, yet we prefer to ignore the thin membrane of racial divide that exists.

I also notice Johnathan sitting next to Chrissie, plying his charms on her. I cannot understand what the girls see in him, with those washed out blue eyes and pasty white skin.

Every girl, black and white seem to swoon when he walks into a room, it is nothing less than infuriating. I realize that this has never bothered me before, so why would it do so now?

I leave school as soon as the last bell chimes through the corridors and I see Chrissie walking along the pathway. It looks like she is on her way to the bus stop and I contemplate stopping and offering her a lift, but then I press the button on my car stereo, increasing the volume and then listening to the music loudly, drowning out all thoughts of her, I drive away from school as fast as traffic would allow me.

When I eventually get home, I park my car in the garage.

Maria is in the kitchen, and I greet her friendly, but I am not in the mood for chitchat, so I walk past fast calling out a greeting in a rushed tone. I run up the stairs quickly and once I am in my room, I turn on my stereo as loud as possible. I lie down on my bed, staring up at the ceiling.

My mom died when I was young. She was involved in a car accident and the white teenager, who killed her, by jumping a red light, only got a few years in jail.

My father now works all day and all night - I hardly ever see him.

He promised himself when he was young that he would work himself into a frenzy until he could afford anything his heard desired, and now he owned his own share-listed Construction Company.

Before my mom died, when I was only five years old, he used to be home more often and I often think back to those days. We used to do things together, play ball, go to the park, the beach and have picnics. When my mom died, he just went to work one day, and I do not think he ever really came home again.

He used to dislike white people before the accident, but now he simply loathed them.

I remember my first day in Grade 1. He made a special effort to be at home that evening for dinner and I told him excitedly how June gave me one of her cup cakes. He enquired carefully if June was a white or black girl. I replied innocently that she was white, and he then told me calmly and convincingly how I should and never could have a relationship with a white girl.

I never questioned him, because he was my father. I was young then, and growing up I never doubted him, because even though I liked June because her pink frosted cup cakes were the best I had ever tasted, I never liked her in that way, anyway.

Since Dennis, George, Simon and I started the band, and we started playing at venues, I have had many white girls falling over their feet trying to get my attention but never once did I feel the slightest attraction towards them. I have never even looked twice in the direction of any white girl before, until now.

I get up from my bed, and then I switch on my gaming console. Playing a violent game, should get my attention diverted.

I play until Maria calls me to come and eat.

Maria has been with me since my mom died. She has cleaned our house, cooked and looked after me. I wondered if I could ask her what she thought was wrong with me, but I do not, because she might tell my father, and that would just create tension in an already volatile situation.

My father told me once, in passing, how proud he is of me with the success of our band, after Mr. Jackson helped us sign a deal with a record company. When he told me this, I felt a sense of relieve and I wanted to continue to make him feel proud of me. Maybe then, he would notice me more often, because now we hardly talked. I would hate to disappoint him.

George, Dennis, Simon and I meet with Mr. Jackson. He tells us that the release date for our first single will be in July. He also encourages us, convincingly, that we should consider having a female singer included in the song, because it is a ballad. He feels it might have a greater appeal if there was a female vocal included.

After much discussion, we agree and then decide that we would hold auditions at school. The girl who gets the part can then also go on the tour that Mr. Jackson is trying to arrange for us during the summer break, and she could act as back-up singer as well.

Everyday I see Chrissie, in the corridors, in class. She is so ignorant of me, and I suppose this is a good thing, because if she was anything else towards me, I might not have resisted. I fight hard against my feelings, yet I find myself looking at her when no one else can see me.

A week before the V-Ball, Mr. Jackson arranges with the Dean for us to perform our debut single in front of the school, after our weekly hall period.

Dennis, George, Simon and I are nervous. Although we have performed at a few malls and bars, this would be our first time performing in front of our peers.

We can hear and feel the excitement in the hall, and instead of this making me feel more relaxed, I actually start feeling more nervous.

Seconds before we have to go on stage, Dennis runs off to the bathrooms and when he gets back, he is sickly pale. Not one of us talk, we are too preoccupied with our own feelings and trying to stay calm.

We walk onto the stage and the applause is loud. We have already arranged our instruments on the stage, while the hall proceedings were in progress.

We start playing and singing, and all else fades into the background. I think the students liked it, because they cheer loudly and the clapping is deafening. I remind everyone to buy his or her V-Ball tickets early.

I also think that I am getting over Chrissie, the forceful rejection of my feelings towards her, is starting to work.

At break, we are in the Music Centre. We spend most of our breaks here, and usually we would have a few girls here with us, while we fiddle with the music instruments, but today it is just the four of us.

I am in between girlfriends.

Simon and Dennis have had long-term relationships and their girlfriends are frustrated with the band spending so much time together, so they avoid being with us during school hours.

George has no girlfriend and I do not think he has ever had one.

We are standing around the piano, laughing and joking.

Simon tells us he can play a tune on the piano and add rhythm without adding drums. George laughs and tells Simon to prove it. Obviously, you could never replace drums, but we like to annoy George – he makes it so easy.

Suddenly, Chrissie walks through the door into the music centre, and I do a double take. I only notice Anne when she smiles towards me and greets us friendly. I look into Chrissie’s eyes and realize that I am undoubtedly in love with her, and am most certainly not getting over her.

She is standing in front of me, uncertain of herself and I have a million emotions and sensations rushing through my body at the same time, but I manage to remain indifferent.

Anne is talking to me, but I hardly hear her. I want to speak to Chrissie, but I have no idea of what I should say.

Mercifully, the bell rings, and we walk out of the Music Centre, ahead of Chrissie.

I walk with my friends, but it feels as if something is chasing me, so I walk a little faster than they do. Just before we turn the corner, I look back and into the eyes of Chrissie. Immediately, I repeat to myself to stop this foolishness.

That afternoon, while we are practicing in the Music Centre, Sabrina walks into the room. Sabrina is Mr. Jackson’s daughter, and at times she can be pompous and arrogant. She seems to be more than interested in me, and she is beautiful.

I decide there and then that she would be the perfect antidote to help me get over the pathetic feelings I seem to have for Chrissie. Impulsively I ask Sabrina to go to the V-Ball with me, and she accepts.

The night of the V-Ball, I drive to her home to collect her. Mr. Jackson is happy to see me and he seems to approve that I have shown an interest in his daughter. Sabrina comes walking down the stairs and to be honest, she does take my breath away. What I realize though in those brief moments, watching her, is that Sabrina is no comparison to Chrissie, and I would never be able to substitute her.

Sabrina talks without end and I smile politely every now and again to acknowledge that I am listening to her monologue. I am relieved when we drive through the security gates of school, and I park the car in the student parking lot.

I walk around my car, taking a deep breath and then I open the door for Sabrina. She steps out of the car elegantly, and then she hooks her arm into mine possessively, as we turn towards the hall.

I notice Chrissie immediately across the lot. She is alone and I suppose it is her dad dropping her off. She seems to hesitate nervously and then she leans into the car and pecks her dad on the cheek, smiling sweetly. She then walks towards the hall and I stare after her, my heart following her.

“Hey, Vincent,” Sabrina says softly next to me, following my gaze.

I look at her smiling, and she continues, “Are you nervous playing here tonight?”

“No. I think after the other day in the hall I’ll never be nervous again.” I laugh uncertainly, “That was the worst nervous I have ever felt.”

“I’m sure you will be great,” she says as she hugs my arm closer to her side.

I decide to enjoy my evening with Sabrina, to forget about Chrissie – I was being ridiculous anyway.

I cannot help glancing in her direction every now and again, but she is unaware of my existence.

At the end of the evening, the last song for the night, I notice Johnathan haul Chrissie onto the dance floor. She looks unwilling, yet when he pulls her closer into him, she goes willingly. Johnathan holds her close to him, and although I know it should be none of my business, it is every bit my business.

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