Stand alone horror ‘Corner House’ is currently free to download from Amazon. Just for a few more days.
Here are the links.
I’m excited about my latest venture – my first foray into sci-fi / fantasy saga. Love them as a reader / viewer, and I had a burgeoning idea in my head, so…
Here’s the blurb from the Amazon upload:
“It appears that your brother is being a little unreasonable, Governor Dais. So glad that you have returned to bring much-needed normality to proceedings.”
Wexlen Dais, the well-respected governor of Star East One, is happy with his lot. That is, until he returns from a trade meeting at a neighbouring settlement to find that his brother, Paxlan, has ruffled the feathers of the envoy from the capital.
Something fell from the sky in last night’s storm, and Paxlan isn’t allowing the scholars from the Centre to investigate it. Wexlen has a choice to make: loyalty to the capital or loyalty to his brother? The situation will not allow for both…
Decisions are made, lines are drawn, lives are affected… the world – and Wexlen’s understanding of it – will never be the same again.
Something fell from the sky. Not a rock, but clear evidence of Tech and Machine, the likes of which hasn’t been seen since the Great Devastation, some four thousand years ago.
The Centre must control all the secrets. The Dais brothers are in their way.
So begins the Portentous Saga… a series of short science-fiction / fantasy novels that document the trials and traumas of the Dais family; their lives uprooted, their world shattered, their resolve tested to the limit.
Sound okay to you?
I enjoyed writing it, and I’m currently writing the second one, 2: Ghosts. I’m hoping to have that out next month. I have three books in my head, but depending on how the writing goes, it could be 5… 7… who knows?
I guess a lot depends on if anyone reads it!
Here’s the Amazon US link: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B083HKKFBW
TO ADDRESS THE PROMPT: ‘WORST INTERVIEW EVER’
Blessed? (500 words)
Chief Commander Donaldson sat at the chrome desk with his fingers interlocked and resting on the question sheet. A buzzer sounded, indicating that the door to interview room #1 was opening. Two of his officers bustled in, the terrorist suspect dangling between them.
‘Please seat Mr Gonzales.’ The soldiers did as instructed and dumped the prisoner in the chair in front of the desk. Built-in steel cuffs secured Gonzales to the arm rests. He wriggled ineffectually against the restraints but then settled, glaring wide-eyed at Donaldson.
‘They’ve been at you for nearly a week now, and nothing. I’m impressed. But I also know, regardless of your silence, that you’re behind the peace marches and the break-out of those reprobates they call The Freedom Four. So now you’re with me. And I’m going to ask you some questions. You will have heard them before, but I imagine your answers first time around were lies.’
Gonzales’ eyes darted around the room, looking for help that wasn’t coming.
Donaldson cleared his throat. ‘Has he been injected with the serum?’ One of the officers replied in the affirmative.
‘Then let’s begin.’ He displayed teeth, unnaturally white and uniform, and read from the sheet. ‘Welcome potential citizen of the Imperial Blessed State of Great America. In order to assimilate you we require accurate answers to the following questions. Question 1: will you comply with all instructions issued with the seal of the Blessed State?’
Gonzales gritted his teeth. Sweat started to form on his brow. ‘I will.’
‘Two. Will you conduct your life in line with the five laws dictated by the Chief Commander’s Imperial Office?’
Gonzales couldn’t stop his head from shaking but he somehow got the words out: ‘I will.’
‘Three. What is your opinion of what is often described as The Free Media?’
‘It’s… fake.’ Gonzales was shivering. ‘Nothing but lies. Only the broadcasts of the Blessed State are genuine.’
Donaldson paused. Two-word answers were one thing, but stringing a whole sentence together against your natural inclination was something else. He wondered if the serum was working properly. He carried on regardless.
‘Four. What is your view of other states outside of the Imperial Walls?’
‘Heretics! Sinners! Lawless animals!’ The words were spat out, cohesive commentary now becoming a clear struggle.
‘And finally, five. What is your primary duty as a citizen of the Imperial Blessed State of New America?’
‘To… to be vigilant. Watch others. Report… instances… of… unblessed… behaviour.’
Donaldson sat back and took in the quivering wreck on the chair. ‘Very good, Gonzales. I would have thought that impossible if it wasn’t true, which I doubt it is. However, here’s a personal question.’ He leaned forward and grinned as wide as possible. ‘What’s your opinion of me, buddy?’
Gonzales sagged in his chair like the air had been let out of him, but he also offered a wry smile. ‘You’re the biggest dick on the planet.’
‘Perfect,’ said Donaldson. He nodded to the guards. ‘Prepare the prisoner for execution.’
UNLUCKY NUMBERS – STORIES BEHIND THE STORIES, PART ONE:
Just wanted to share some thoughts, as I have done before, about what the thought process was behind the short stories I’ve recently put out. ‘Unlucky Numbers’ contains thirteen tales, some previously published in smaller volumes. I reordered them slightly for the complete collection, to try and create what I thought would be a successful reading order. Here I will explore the origins if the first four in order of the contents. Be mindful that there might be spoilers; DON’T READ if you haven’t already read the stories!
A CURIOSITY OF KITTENS: For all of the stories in this collection I wanted numbers to play a part so that I had a frame to hang them all on. It meant I brainstormed a range of situations where numbers played a part. One of these was page numbers in children’s books, and how sometimes they count up or count down characters or objects as the tale progresses. I then remembered how mind-numbing and repetitive reading these books can be for a parent. On more than one occasion I had skipped pages when reading to my own kids, hoping they weren’t that invested in the narrative! I didn’t go so far as pulling pages out, but not far off! This made me think of a situation where the book might fight back. Once I had that in mind, the rest fell into place. I was just mindful that I didn’t want it to be too similar to ‘The Babadook’; hopefully it didn’t come across this way. Final note: at first they were puppies… I can’t remember when they switched to cats. I guess once I’d decided to bring curiosity into it…
ROMANIAN ROULETTE: Some of these stories kill two birds with one stone, by being written to prompts from writing forums that I sometimes use to inspire and drive me. This particular prompt was a vial of blood. I then thought of that in relation to number, and mulled over how I could create a story that incorporated half a dozen or so vials… that’s when I thought about Russian Roulette and the one in six chance of coming to a sticky end. If it was blood, not bullets, then it seemed obvious that I was dealing with vampires. It was then just about creating a scenario where vampires found themselves in this perilous situation…
TAGGED: Also written to a writing group prompt. The last sentence of the killer’s verse was the line that needed to be used – the last person I killed was the last person I wanted to kill. It then made me think about who the other victims might be and what line the killer might say – or in this case, spray-paint – about each of them. Once I’d solved that particular puzzle it was then all about how I got that across to the reader. I liked the idea of the pieces being delivered in flashback rather than in true linear fashion, I suppose because they came to me in that way. It meant I could try a slightly different way of unfolding a narrative…
FAR FROM THE TREE: Another one from the brainstorming session about numbers, I noted down the idea of all the generations of a family tree. What could be the story? What would we be counting? My own family – or at least one half of it – is very large. I wish somebody would do me a very helpful family tree! What I could then count very easily, would be the frequency of certain names: John and James in particular. Here the story was born – a name that occurred, just once, in every generation. Of course, it couldn’t be accidental… why was the name important? And what happened when you reached a certain number? I enjoyed writing this one, specifically in preparation, as I designed the full Crenny family tree, complete with relatives and ancestors that didn’t make the cut, all the way back to Harry the Head. It’s nice to get lost in the world of a story once in a while…
SO, that’s the first four. I’ll throw the next batch up here in a couple of days; give more of you good folk a chance to read ahead!
I’m very close to finishing the first draft of my latest project, so there’s every chance that it will be out and available in the next week or so.
‘Portentous’ is a bit of a departure from my more recent horror writing and perhaps can be described as fantasy / sci-fi / drama… something like that!
It’s a project that will be a series, rolled out in novella / short novel form. ‘Portentous 1:Brothers’ is nearly good to go. It will be followed by ‘Portentous 2: Ghosts’ and ‘Portentous 3: Gods’ with scope for a lot more if the series takes off. The joys of world-building is that there is a lot of world out there, and characters to populate it!
Anyway, watch this space. I also intent to make better use of this blog / site moving forward, aiming for at least 5 posts a week. Feel free to comment or drop me a line.
RECOLLECTION (500 words)
I was back in the old neighbourhood for the first time in ten years. A father’s death, regardless of your differences, brings you home. The wake was in the house and I’d taken as many condolences as I could stand, so had stepped out for some air.
In the same way that school corridors shorten and classrooms shrink if you ever return as an adult, the old streets and alleyways seemed tiny and insignificant when compared to memory. I walked on, smirking at the flashbacks and the inevitable comparisons.
That’s when I came across the front yard of Tyrone Lang’s house, or at least where he used to live. Sixteen years ago, when I used to run around in a crew – mid-teen, angry, antisocial – he had been the only person for whom we had any reverence. He had been ripped, muscles stretching cotton tees taut. He used to do weights in this very yard, and we’d just watch him, and hoped he’d favour one of us to spot him. A good seven or eight years older than the biggest of us, we were impressed; in awe.
He was a fearsome beast, and everybody knew it. I had a clear memory of him beating another man half to death, an altercation at an impromptu house party that had gone too far. I realised there and then that I’d never been more scared of another human being more in my life, even after all these years.
I wondered, but didn’t have to wonder for long. I’d been stood there for a good half-minute and that had drawn attention. A man came out of the house. Stocky, but with a belly hanging over his belt buckle. Shorter than me, and balding. As he walked towards me I could see I was a couple of inches taller.
‘Can I help you?’ he asked. It was the voice that gave it away: this, unbelievably, was Tyrone. My initial instinct was to scurry off apologetically, but then I remembered I was no longer fifteen.
‘Not particularly,’ I said. ‘I’m Michael Buchanan. I used to live around here.’
Lang nodded. ‘You’ve done some changing, Mickey B.’
I was surprised that he remembered me, but he must have, using my old moniker like that.
‘So have you,’ I said.
‘Not so much. A beergut and a baldpatch, but that’s about it.’
I looked at him again and concluded that he was probably right: it was me that had done most of the changing, mainly my perspective on things.
‘Heard your dad died.’
‘Got to be honest with you, Mickey. I’m not sorry he’s gone. He was a mean son-of-a-bitch if ever there was one. Good that you and your mum got out when you did.’
I wanted to say I don’t know what you mean, or how dare you! but instead I stuck out a hand and he shook it. ‘Thank you,’ I said.
Memory was a fickle thing. It was good to hear the truth.
Excited, delighted, and I hope you’ll be affrighted! My latest short story collection ‘UNLUCKY NUMBERS’ is complete! Thirteen tales exploring different situations where the order of everyday life is disrupted and the numbers just don’t add up…
Available for download on Amazon, and FREE to read on Kindle Unlimited.
Inside, it’s so delightful…
So, I have released some Christmas tales, as mentioned previously. ‘A Door or a Window?’ and ‘The Last Present’ are both in there. These two you’ll find in other collections also.
However, you have also got three brand new tales: ‘Secret Sandra’ – my take on Secret Santa; ‘Wreck The Halls’ – the perils of acquiring a Christmas tree; and ‘A Ghost at Burrows Manor’ – because every Christmas collection needs a ghost in an old stuffy building.
‘Frightful’ – the collection is available now to download on Kindle, or to read free on Kindle Unlimited.
So Volume Three of ‘Unlucky Numbers’ is out. Three new stories of horror and suspense (although one is a reworking / extension of a bonus story that was in ‘A Very Bad Year’ for a time.)
There’s also a Christmas one – ‘A Door or a Window?’ Haunted advent calendar, anyone?
I’m thinking of releasing this story separately along with ‘The Last Present’ from AVBY, and two other seasonal tales that I’ve got in mind. That might be out next week if I can polish those baubles in time.
The new year will see the whole collection completed, as well as the start of a new story, collected in a series of novellas. ‘Portentous’ – more sci-fi/fantasy than normal – will be out in January too.
Then there’s a novel, ‘The Deleted’… I’m hoping 2020 is going to be a big Barnard year!
The second trio of stories – in what will eventually become a collection of thirteen tales – is now available. Download for 0.99 (£, $ or Euro) or read for free on Kindle Unlimited.
The stories are:
Romanian Roulette – a grisly take on the well-known game…
Tagged – a murder investigation with puzzle pieces to fit…
A Curiosity of Kittens – a children’s picture book that isn’t quite what it seems…