Empty promises were sealed with a gentle kiss on the lips and followed by a final embrace. The hug was long and heartfelt, and when the women pulled away, they squeezed at each other’s hands and gave sad smiles. Continue reading “The Last Goodbye”
The cottage was cosy in the daytime. At night, it changed.
When the Writer had let herself in through the heavy, wooden front door, observing as she did so the pretty rose bush which creeped up the ragged stone walls to border the entranceway, she’d felt a surge of peace and contentment. This was the place she’d pen her bestseller, she’d told herself, and for an entire fortnight she’d feel right at home and brimming over with inspiration. Only the most exquisite prose could pour from her fingertips when she was holed up in such a serene abode. Continue reading “A Great Story”
Cammy tossed her phone charger and hair straightener into her suitcase and cast her eyes around the room for last-minute additions to her luggage. She scanned through a list in her mind and mentally checked everything off: toiletries, hairbrush, pyjamas, clothes enough for two days, plus a few extra garments thrown in for luck. Continue reading “Nosey”
“And I’m gonna eat less takeaway, and drink less beer, and –”
“Nah, you can’t drink less beer,” Mike tells me with a shake of his head. “You can’t stop coming to the pub.”
“I’ll still come to the pub, I’ll just drink summat else.”
“Vodka!” Tom announces. “Vodka’s purer than beer. And if you have it with cranberry, ‘cos cranberry’s good for your kidneys, it basically cancels out the alcohol. I read it in Jen’s Cosmo magazine.” Continue reading “Resolution”
Oh, Christmas. You’re a wonderful thing but you’re also bloody tiring and, quite frankly, thank fuck you’re over with so I can get back to my usual routine of reading all the things and writing all the things.
I managed to find a reasonable amount of time for reading this month and it was much-needed after last month’s paltry Reads. I’ll just jump right in, because I’ve read some cracking books over the past few weeks! Continue reading “December Reads”
The second half of 2017 has flown by.
Why? Because I’ve actually being doing something with myself.
Actually, that’s a lie. In the first seven months of 2017 I was working, at a snail’s pace, on my novel, and hoping that maybe one day it would be done and maybe it would be good enough to approach agents with. But I wasn’t taking it all that seriously; it was just a bit of fun. Continue reading “2017 Roundup and 2018 Writing Goals”
‘Twas the day after Christmas, and all through the town,
There were emotions aplenty, some up and some down.
Many nursed hangovers, while others nursed wounds,
A few mopped their tears, and more still hit the booze.
Siobhan lay naked in Rich’s arms on the rug before the fire, her throw strewn over the two of them. She listened to the steady thud of his heartbeat in his chest and felt completely at one with him and at peace with herself.
She didn’t know what it meant. She didn’t know if they were back on. They hadn’t said a single word to one another, other than “I love you,” whispered raggedly in the height of lust. But she felt that that was enough. They’d work things out, one way or another.
A heavy thud jolted her from her thoughts.
“What the fuck?!”
Siobhan pulled away from Rich in response to his panic and followed his gaze to the fireplace. Then she screamed. Continue reading “24. Bloody Murder”
Mrs. Claus woke up her phone for the third time in less than two minutes. She checked that the ringer was turned on, and turned the volume up high. It was already at maximum, but she couldn’t help herself.
She then looked to the analogue clocks. There was a whole wall of them, each displaying a different time zone throughout the world. She had studied those clocks for over an hour. She had checked and double checked each of them for being slow or having stopped ticking altogether. Each one was working as it should. Continue reading “23. Worry”
The ring of blue light in the sky was mesmerising. Georgie couldn’t take her eyes of it, no matter how much her mother knocked on the kitchen window and told her to come inside.
She’d spotted it half an hour ago, when her parents allowed her 10 minutes to prance around in the snow in the back garden. She’d planned to build a miniature snowman and perhaps pelt a few snowballs at the fence, but as soon as she’d stepped out into the fresh, freezing night, something forced her to look up. And she’d been looking up at the blue ring ever since. Continue reading “22. An Opportunity”