Tag: kindle

Second Glance – A Book Extract

AFF – This contains a link which is an affiliate one and I will get a kickback if you decide to buy a suggested product.

A fast walk through the park can’t be that much trouble, can it?

As a bonus weekend post, I wanted to share a short extract from my story about a woman coming across an accident and jumping to conclusions. See what you think and maybe comment down below. This is one of my stories from ‘Second Glance’ available in the link here:

Race To Make A Decision

Celia was on her way to work. She took the same route that she always took. It was about 8 o’clock and the sun was bright over the horizon. As she crossed the road to enter the park, which was the shortcut she had followed every day for ten years, she suddenly had visions of forgetting to pick up her phone. Rummaging through her handbag, with the sun’s sharp rays causing her to shield her face, she kept walking across the path and was just about to enter the bit that led through the park when…Crash!

 

It had all happened so fast. Celia was spinning around, trying to take in what had happened. One minute she had been feeling around in her bag for her phone. The next minute she was in the centre of a huge drama unfolding. Just as she had crossed the path she had failed to notice a guy in the cycle lane who had had to suddenly turn to avoid her as she backtracked slightly, averting her eyes from the blinding sun. At the same time a cyclist had emerged from the park, rightfully travelling on the cycle track side of the path but not expecting a dithering pedestrian to divert another bike into his pathway.

 

Not for one moment did Celia assume that any of this was caused by her actions. Instead she screamed. Confirming that she hadn’t remembered her phone after all, she yelled at the top of her lungs to get some help. She then dropped the bag and stepped back to steady herself before trying to catch her breath and take everything in.

 

The first thing she did, as a young lad marched up to them – phone in hand, was to assess the situation. Who were these cyclists that had nearly killed her? Hunched next to her, just a foot away, was a pale looking man who must have been in his fifties, reminding her somewhat of the guy from the Bond movies that she could never remember the name of. She smiled to herself momentarily as she admired his physique before suddenly realising that his eyes were closed and he had blood coming out of his shoulder. Quite a lot of blood at that.

 

Turning her head, while she could hear the boy instructing an ambulance to head towards the north side of the park, she noticed a twenty-something slim asian guy tangled in his bike with his eyes half open, breathing so loudly that it alarmed her. He seemed to sigh on every troubled exhalation. He, just like the other guy, was sweating profusely and already had a large swelling around where his kneecap should have been. Blood spattered the pavement alongside him.

 

Still Celia could not decide if one was more guilty or the other. She was quickly brought back to life with a question from the boy.

 

“Did you see what happened?”

“No. It was all a blur. Typical cyclists, I say. Always dangerous.”

“Thank God they both wore hats!” announced a lady who had suddenly popped out from the park.

Another teenager ran up to the scene and started to take off his jumper. Celia was about to ask why when she saw him tuck it around the head of the first guy, keeping it protected. The original boy said that he was going to stand near the road to direct the ambulance to the scene while the lady knelt down next to the asian man and asked him if she could do anything. Celia heard him mumble something and the lady then took a clean handkerchief from her pocket and tied it around his knee. He swallowed hard as she did it and placed his right hand on the dressing, holding it as if to defend from any potential knocking. Celia felt his pain but she still didn’t know what she could do. She eventually decided she was the first one there and should take control.

My Writing – Short Story Extract

Today, I wanted to share the beginning of one of my short stories about first impressions. I wrote this collection of stories a year ago and really enjoyed writing them. I hope that you will find this extract intriguing.

Garden Depths

Finally, the sun was out and, for the first time in ages, my schedule was clear and I had found the time to do a bit of weeding. The garden was a joke. A mess. I, like anyone else, appreciate wild flowers. But not all over my garden, choking the plants that were meant to be there and making my grass look unkept and like it was about to turn into a Savannah. I half expected a leopard to be hiding behind some of the clumps of long grass, watching me as I peered out of the patio doors, perusing my own territory. Although, perhaps it wasn’t mine any more.

Even during the erratic weather of the last month, Eric had been spending a lot of time out there. Sometimes with his friends, playing football or hitting the swing ball around that rickety pole. Most of the time it was just him though. He’d sit on the bench sketching or making cartoons or maybe keeping secretive notes. Who knows? He always had his ear pods in and it seemed as if he preferred time alone in the garden to time inside, being nagged by me. Was I really that dull now? Well, one thing was for sure. This garden was being cleared up and I was going to make an effort to spend time with my son out there. First thing first. Where had I put those shears?

I was a bit more old fashioned. I liked having a speaker tethered to my iPod much more than having earphones in my ears. Somehow, they always made me feel like I was in a bubble and that the world was outside of that bubble. When I was gardening I wanted to embrace nature, not shut it out. Having said that my taste in music meant that I wasn’t exactly playing orchestral pieces or melodic tunes that would remind you of the great outdoors. A bit of Slipknot never hurt anyone right? It definitely made the dreary act of weed pulling more interesting, much to the disgust of my neighbour, Joan, who just gave me discouraging looks from time to time, as she put her washing out and pottered around her neatly aligned marigolds. The temptation to ramp up the volume was getting the better of me, when Eric emerged from the house, holding the phone.

Hopefully you enjoyed this sample of my work and might consider following my blog for more about reading and writing, alongside articles about the environment.

My book, ‘Second Glance’ is available here: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08DM6N2LF/ref=cm_sw_r_cp_awdb_WA59ZJBHXBN8608Q23C1

My Own Writing – Looking Back

As it is now two years since my very first novella was released, I wanted to share a small sample of it with you. I am still proud of this first project as it was for me a massive deal and I learned so much from writing, editing, publishing and promoting it.

Fancy reading a book packed full of drama, friendship and dealing with the aftermath of an unexpected death?

Honestly, I am nervous sharing a segment on my blog but I hope you appreciate that this was my stepping stone into writing and I really love all of the projects that I have since engaged with.

Extract from ‘The Fathers, the Sons and the Anxious Ghost’

I went home to find Mum going through some of Dad’s things. She looked fed up, and I asked her if she wanted a cup of tea or something, but she just shook her head and carried on sorting stuff into piles. When I came back from making myself a drink, she was outside starting a fire. I could see a pile of clothes slowly starting to burn. Running out to stop her, she pushed me away and began to cry. She hurried indoors, and I used the hose pipe to put out the fire, but the clothes were already ruined. When I returned inside, Mum was sitting on the kitchen floor, sobbing and rocking slowly. I tried to give her a hug; and this time, for once, she allowed me to. We sat there for about half an hour before I was able to convince her to go to bed and rest. She never said a word but forced a smile as I guided her towards the staircase. I was straight on the phone to Sam, wondering if he had seen my elusive father.

Sam picked up and I had it out with him. People used to think that I was weedy and shy, but when I got riled up about something, I just let rip! Sam’s ears were probably bleeding as he quietly listened, saying ‘mhmm’ once in a while to suggest that he was still with me. After I had gone on about how his dad had destroyed my mum’s marriage, I calmed down a bit, and we had a more ordinary conversation. To be honest, it was hard to stay mad at Sam, as he was a genuinely nice guy. It wasn’t his fault at all. Calming me down further, Sam offered to meet up and talk more, but he also told me that Alfie was beginning to worry about Tess. I wondered why he never mentioned it earlier on when we were smoking by the park. Sam just sort of dropped it into the conversation, perhaps to distract me further. Both Sam and I had always looked out for Tess. We worried that one day her mum’s death might get to her. Maybe that time had finally come. It was bound to at some point, and we didn’t think Alfie would be much use in those circumstances. I grabbed my coat and popped to see Sam and find out what he had managed to discover so far.