Writing Books – My Extract

It has been a while since I shared any snippets of my work and so today I felt like including a fresh one for you to peruse. My blog celebrates books and is also a place for me to occasionally include my own writing. This sample is from my novella, ‘The Fathers, the Sons and the Anxious Ghost.’

When we got there, the funeral car was already driving into the car park and I could see a waiting crowd just outside the door of this historic church. Only slightly delayed after picking up Mrs Bellamy from town, we straightened ourselves out and Sam clutched firmly to my hand as we made our way over to the entrance. We could see Matt sat with his wife and son about halfway down the packed-out hall. Mrs Bellamy had to be close to the front because she was giving a speech. She had asked us to come with her as they had apparently saved us some seats. It was uncomfortable to see Alex stood right in front of me, chatting to the vicar, probably finalising the running order. He looked calm but shattered, pretty much a fragment of his former self.


Sam was directly behind Alfie and when they spotted each other, Alfie extended his hand and shook it, thanking him for coming. It was good to see that they had no hard feelings after the assembly debacle. Usually with boys, any tiffs were soon forgotten and in this case the situation seemed to bring them closer together. I knew that Sam had been keeping in touch with both Alfie and Max on a daily basis.


Before long, the tension increased and the voices lowered. A sad organ sound emitted music that was heart-wrenching and immediately brought tears to my eyes. Sam lowered his head in grief and I could see him touch Alfie on the shoulder tenderly to remind him that he was there for him. My heart broke as I saw Alex return carrying the coffin, with Michelle’s brother the other side and her father following on at the back. What a horrible thing for anyone to have to deal with, burying his own flesh and blood. Glancing over my shoulder I could tell that Max wasn’t handling it very well and he was being comforted by a very sombre looking Matt, shaved of all of his usual hotness, dissolved into a humble guy, respectfully commemorating the life of a family friend. I felt even more admiration for him at this most inappropriate of moments. I turned back and gave Sam a close hug and then we started to sing the first hymn.


I could hear Max crying now quite loudly, even as Alfie stayed calm and seemed to be internalising his pain. Footsteps told me that Max had run off and Sam flew past me to go and find him. Following on, I was soon stood in a windy graveyard with my boy leaning over his friend, trying to console him. Behind me a voice reached out to me. We were enough of a distance away from the boys so as not to be heard.

Thank you for checking out my sample. I hope that it intrigued some of you to consider reading the whole book. Either way, I have plenty of articles related to writing and reading on my blog. For example, Being Watched – My upcoming Novel.

How These 3 Blogging Tricks Helped Me to Become a Better Blogger

I really found this post very useful and I think you will as well. Finding easy ways to make blogging practical and efficient is really important. Otherwise it consumes hours of your time. Blogging is a fantastic hobby so every piece of advice is welcome.

Honestly, blogging is hard. But then I discovered these 3 blogging tricks and they opened up a whole new world of potential for me. The post How …

How These 3 Blogging Tricks Helped Me to Become a Better Blogger

Being Watched – My New Book

The story starts with a bike ride. This is the only picture I could find.

This is a small excerpt from my forthcoming YA mystery book. I hope you like it. I am nervous and excited at the same time. I was keen to get into the YA genre as I enjoy reading YA stories a lot. Inspired by a range of authors, I decided to try my hand at something mysterious but still grounded in genuine drama.

I simply couldn’t look her in the eye. I shied away from her gaze as I tugged her up from beneath the scratchy hedge that had protected our falls. With a cut lip and some already visible bruises, I was feeling worse for wear. She had a bump on her cheek and a few grazes, but seemed to have come off better than I had. It was difficult to get back to reality and regain our focuses after such a traumatic event. Glancing back over my shoulder, I could see the house looking almost unchanged. It seemed to stand more erect than before apart from the shattered windows of the conservatory and the door that was hanging off its hinges. It blew in the wind and banged loudly every second or two. It’s rhythm was awkward and seemed to resonate within my chest. She looked at me and caught my eye. We had survived something that only we could ever understand. Nobody would even believe us if we told them. It all started that day when I suggested we look for her stupid blue scarf. But it was not her fault. Far from it. It needed to come about in this way. I can remember everything right from when we got together that morning to cycle into the woods.




Chapter One


It was quite a sunny day and we were enjoying a ride over to the neighbouring town where we wanted to get some new trainers. Mum had given me some cash, with strict instructions to get ones that would last a long time rather than just ones that looked good out and about on the streets. She had reminded me that training shoes were for exercise and fitness and not just for showing others how much money I could waste. I was not as bothered about looks as she thought, but I did want to make sure that I got my favourite brand. Siobhan, however, was also interested in checking out a new shop which apparently everyone was talking about. By everyone, she must have meant her girly friends, as I knew nothing about it. It was one of those new shops that sold stuff at a reduced rate from outlets that belonged to big chains and she had her hopes set on buying cheap trainers and still having enough money left for a brand new pair of cut price designer jeans. I suppose we both had brands that we liked and so we had a similar reason for going to town that day. We just had not planned on getting interrupted. By interrupted, I mean starting a sequence of events that would lead to us being swept into a bush, grazed and washed out, lucky to still be in one piece. But that was all yet to come months later.