Back to my Roots

When I published my two short stories I used Smashwords,and sold quite a few copies. Because Smashwords was new and Amazon was bigger and much more established I decided to use Amazon exclusively. I did pretty well on sales at first, but then got lost in the billions of bigger, better and more recognized authors.

As an unknown I’ve decided to give Smashwords a try again, why wouldn’t I. It converts my books to just about any type of eReader out there giving me a much wider audience. Dead of July is $3.99 on both Smashwords and Amazon. 

Give me a boost, click on either of the links below and buy a copy! I’d love to hear your review.

Smashwords

Dead of July – Amazon

Dead of July by Sandra Thompson

Marianna was on her knees next to me, still gripping the belt with one hand. Quick as a flash, she brought up her other hand, fist clenched, ready to punch me in the face. I raised my arm and blocked her. She was strong. I thought my arm would break. Tugging the belt out of my grasp, she prepared to swing it again. I fell to the ground with my hands clasped behind my head, trying to protect myself, waiting for the next blow. She wasn’t used to someone fighting back and I could tell her temper was bubbling out of control. I know she meant to kill me.

A Chill in the Air – The Chill of EVIL!

I stayed with my mum until I knew she was alright. She was clearly shaken by the lightning felled tree, but had forgotten about the dark feathered shape with wings. For that I was relieved. It was seven o clock when I finally left mum sitting in front of the television watching Songs of Praise and drinking tea. I stopped by to see the Reverend and asked him to keep an eye on her. He promised he would. “I’ll send Maggie round to see her,” he said, “Your mum and Maggie like to gossip.” Maggie was the Reverend’s housekeeper, and my mum did enjoy her company, although in this instance I think the Reverend was afraid to visit himself. He knew he wasn’t welcome.

When I got home my little flat was cold. I turned up the heating, but it didn’t warm the chill in my bones. I’d just poured myself a brandy when the doorbell rang. It was Jeff, I’d forgotten about him, but was pleased to see him.

“Can I pour you a brandy?” I asked as he came through the door.

“No thanks, not right now anyway.”

“Whats in the canvas bag?” I asked him, “More bones?”

Jeff laughed, “No, something to help rid us of your evil guest and keep you safe,” he said as he put the bag on the floor. I watched with interest as he pulled out bunches of dried herbs, shiny stones, powder, books, coins. It was an interesting combination. “Are you in some sort of cult?” I asked.

“Nothing like that. You could call me intuitive though. This is a concoction I put together myself. I haven’t really had chance to try it out yet.”

“Oh great, let me be your guinea pig. What are you planning to do?” I asked, shivering, it was getting colder by the minute.

He looked around the room. “Go and sit on the sofa,” he said, “tuck your feet under you and wrap yourself in that blanket.”

I did as I was told and watched as he sprinkled a fowl smelling brown power around me. He crumbled dried herbs into the powder, mumbling quietly all the time. It was freezing now. Finally he stood inside the oval he’d made around my old sofa and placed shiny pebbles around us. Then he sat next to me, very close, our bodies touching. He put his arm around me and held an old book in front

Book of spellsof us. The yellow pages contained characters I’d never seen before, they seemed to writhe before my eyes. Was I hallucinating. Jeff took something from his pocket. Was it a joint. Was he going to smoke weed in my livingroom?

He lit it and inhaled before passing it to me. “You need to share this with me,” he said.

“Is it cannabis?” I asked

“No,” he replied, “Come on we don’t have much time.”

I put it between my lips and inhaled deeply, closing my eyes. It wasn’t unpleasant, in fact I liked it. When I opened my eyes again I was shocked at what I saw.

A prod in the Night

darkvigilI woke up at 3 am! It was dark and cold, but I was sweating. Did I have a fever? It wouldn’t surprise me, I’ve been sick most of the week. It was hard to breathe so I sat up. My husband snored peacefully beside me.

Something drifted to the floor by the doorway. A feather!

I haven’t written all week, been too sick! Was the dark shadow that slid down the stairs reminding me?

I haven’t forgotten you Dark Angel, Herald of Death! Our story isn’t finished yet.

 

Dead of July – Germany 1982

 

Faceless Angel of Death

Tree blocking road

My mum hummed a tune as she washed the tea cups “Are you going to stay for your Sunday dinner Lucy?” she asked hopefully.

“I’d love to, but I think I’d better get back home. I don’t feel great. I’ll come to church with  you next week, and maybe we can go and have a nice pub lunch somewhere.”

“Yes I’d like that.” my mum said and then frowned, “Is there something you’re not telling me? You seem edgy. Are you still taking pain killers after your car accident. I’ve heard people get addicted to those things,”

“I’m fine mum, honest. I’m just stressed with work, and I won’t lie, I miss dad. I still feel responsible for his death. He was on his way to see me when he died.”

My mum hugged me. “It wasn’t your fault. He should have stopped smoking years ago. Cigarettes killed him, nothing else.” Thunder rumbled in the distance and the sky turned a nasty charcoal grey. “Let me call a cab, I don’t want you driving me home, this storm looks like it could get nasty.” I said.

“Don’t be so silly, I can have you home in five minutes,” my mum insisted grabbing her car keys. “Was that Jeff I saw you talking too outside the church?” she asked.

“Yes it was, you never liked him did you?”

“I didn’t dislike him, I just thought he was strange. Didn’t he used to be a hippy? I think he took drugs too.”

I laughed “Yes mum, I suppose he was a bit of a hippy, it was the fashion. I think everyone took drugs in the seventies”

“Does he still carry bones in his…………..”

“Mam look out”

Lightning hit a tree ahead of us and it crashed to the ground, blocking the road. My mum slammed on the break and I grabbed the steering wheel, yanking it to the right. The car skidded to a halt. We sat still for a few seconds in shock,  knowing we had narrowly escaped death. A dark winged shape perched on the wall by the fallen tree. It was little more than a shadow. Did my mum see it too?

Her hands gripped the steering wheel as though her life depended on it. She stared straight ahead, a terrified look on her face. “Mam are you alright?.”

No answer.

“I’m going to drive us home,” I said.

She neither moved or spoke. Did she see the dark shape on the wall. I followed the direction of her gaze, but angel of death was gone. Gently I prized my mum’s fingers from the steering wheel before getting out of the car and walking to the driver’s side. Taking her hand I gently helped out of the car and guided her to the passenger seat. “I’m going to take you home and make a nice cup of sweet tea, you’ve had a nasty shock.”

As I drove away I looked in the rearview mirror at the log blocking the road. Did I see a shadow again?

Dear God don’t let it hurt anyone else.

“Did you see that big bird?” my mum asked.

“What big bird I asked,” apprehensively.

“The big dark bird on the wall, I saw one just like it at the bottom of the garden this morning, I wonder what it is.”

The rain began to fall heavily as we drove home and I was glad. It blocked the images I didn’t want to look at.

Hallelujah – The Sun Sets on the Girl on the Beach

DSC02290

 

Just in time, one day before my Fiction Writers Conference, I managed to finish the final edit of the final re-write of my first book Girl on the Beach.

It will be a while before its published because the next step is the content edit, followed by the copy-edit, followed by the lay out, then the front and back cover and finally the proof reader. It’s such a great achievement to get this far though. I am so excited. I am re-launching this book in the genre ‘Young Adult’. Are there any young adults out there who would like to be my beta readers?

Exhausted, but happy, I’m going to bed.

My novel Dead of July is available on Amazon and sells at $3.99 for the Kindle edition and $9.99 for the print version.

Girl on the Beach, should be available around Christmas time. Watch out for it.

Tricks of Evil – Dark Angel – Haunting the Reverend

 

As soon as I walked into the kitchen of my childhood home I felt my dad’s presence. I even smelled him, his cigarettes, his aftershave, his hair creme; it was comforting and upsetting both at the same time. My mum seemed not to notice and busied herself with setting the table.

“Can I help”? I asked. She stopped what she was doing and looked at me. “Your being here is the only help I need. I’ve missed you, I feel like I’ve lost my husband and my daughter.”

I hung my head, ashamed of my recent behaviour. “I’m sorry mum, I really am.”

She turned her back to me, I knew she was crying, “everyone deals with grief differently,” she said, making excuses for me.

Reverend Laybourn appeared as he walked slowly past the kitchen window. He didn’t look so good as he came in and sat down. My mum poured him some tea and offered him a piece of cake. “How could I refuse, it looks delicious.” He turned and faced me. “People come from far and wide to our church bake sale, in the hopes of getting one of your mum’s chocolate cakes. She has quite the reputation.”

The cake on Reverend Laybourn’s place was alive with maggots, dark chocolate-colored maggots. Was I the only person who saw them?

His face was covered with a film of perspiration. He mopped his brow. “Oh goodness, I hope I’m not coming down with something,” he said. My mum didn’t seem to notice his demeanor. She was just happy we were both there. After twenty minutes or so the Reverend stood up, he looked unsure on his feet, and steadied himself. A dark maggot tried to escape the corner of his mouth. My stomach lurched, surely I was hallucinating.

“I must go, other parishioners to talk to,” he said weakly.

“I’ll walk with you to the corner,” I told him, wondering if he had the strength to walk that far.

By the time we reached the garden gate, I thought he would faint, but he kept going. I knew he was praying silently because his lips were moving. When I knew my mum couldn’t hear my voice I said. “Are you alright, what happened in there? Your cake, it was full of maggots.”

Reverend Laybourn took a deep breath and talked as we continued to walk to the corner of the street. “No it was not, but something wanted us to believe it was. It took all of my strength and faith in God to eat it. I didn’t want to alarm your mother, but I don’t think I should visit her again at home, something doesn’t want me in her house.”

I looked into his face, some of the color had returned. “You look much better now. Remember when you visited my flat?”

“Yes, I do, you weren’t pleased to see me were you? I heard you slam the door when I walked out.”

“I didn’t slam the door, I was nowhere near it. Reverend, I really do think I have daemons.I think they will harm you if you try to help me.”

The reverend looked at me, a troubled expression on his face. “Lucy, you are troubled, I see a dark aura all around you. Its something I’ve never seen before, but I don’t believe it’s a daemon. I’m going to talk to Father Romsey about this, there are special prayers to help troubled people. This could be something you are mustering up.”

“I’ve been called crazy several times in my life, but I don’t think I’m the sort of crazy that can conjure up maggots. I saw them too remember?”

The reverend took my hands in his own “May God Protect you.” he said. “Lucy, I will talk to Father Romsey and then I will call you.”

“I don’t want to put more people at risk.”

“Part of my job is dealing with evil, it’s what I signed up for.” Reverend Laybourn hugged me and then hurried away. I was scared for him.

As I walked back along the road to my mum’s house it grew dark, it was still early afternoon, but a storm was coming. The shadows grew longer. The air was full of dampness, and carried a nasty smell, it was the smell of evil. May God help us all, I said to myself. I knew I had a battle ahead of me.

a-lovely_grazing_meadow_under_stormy_sky-1576220

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My first novel ‘Dead of July’ is set in Dortmund, Germany. The year is 1984 and a young British Army wife fights a battle against Evil. Does she survive? Click on the link below and find out.

Dead of July

 

Dare I ask you to show yourself?

In the middle of the night I woke up. It was cold. The window was closed, but I felt a draft. Its August, why is it so cold? Sensing I wasn’t alone, I looked around. The moonlight reflected a smudge in the corner of the room. Dare I ask you to show yourself? I thought. No need, a shadow developed. Did it have wings? Is my story becoming reality or am I falling into my story?

Shadow

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My current story, Dead of July is available on Amazon.

Dead of July by Sandra Thompson

A single black feather – An Omen?

black-feathers

Last night I tossed and turned in bed, my dreams were disturbing, frightening.

I was in St. Paul’s, a Church in a little North Yorkshire village.

Something was watching me.

When I woke up this morning, there was a single black feather on the floor beside my bed!

Should I be worried?

 

 

Dead of July

A German Ghost Story in the midst of the British Army

 

 

Daemons!

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAThe church service was long and dreary, but I endured it for my mum’s sake. The dark winged shape lurked above me, but I felt her power was waning in the house of God. After a final hymn, the church doors were opened and the Reverend Laybourn stood just outside, talking to the congregation as they left. My mum left the church, glancing my way as she walked out into the sunlight. I looked at Jeff.

“Go with your mum,” he said. “I’ll stop by tonight.”

“You don’t know where I live,”

“Yes I do, I’ll see you around seven,” he said, and then left the church through the back door. I walked to the front of the church, not wanting to be in there alone. I kept my eyes fixed straight ahead of me, not daring to look up, afraid to see what was following me.

The Reverend looked genuinely pleased to see me, “Ah, Lucy, so glad you came to church today.”

My mum stood next to him, her eyes brimming with tears. She looked haggard. I reached out and hugged her, feeling her tears soak into my blouse. “I’m sorry mum, I’m really sorry. I don’t know whats wrong with me. I think I have daemons.”

Reverend Laybourn frowned. “Lets not talk about daemons,” he said. “Will you join me for a cup of tea and some chocolate biscuits? I think it would be nice to talk for a while.”

I didn’t want to talk about the thing that followed me. What if the dark feathered creature that followed harmed those I talked to?

My mum was talking now. “Please, come and have tea at my house, I’m there alone so often, I’d love you to come. I baked a chocolate cake this morning, I’ll never eat it myself.”

That pleased the good Reverend, he did have a sweet tooth. I couldn’t argue.

Reverend Laybourn locked the church doors “I thought the church was always open,” I said to him.

“Yes in a perfect world,” he answered “but, we’ve had some problems recently, a crow, or some other big black bird got trapped in here, there was an awful mess. I didn’t think black birds were carnivores, but I was wrong. There were two dead rabbits on the floor and blood everywhere.”

“Oh that’s awful,” I said, alarm bells going off in my head, “Is the bird gone now.”

“I don’t know, we never saw it.”

“Then how do you know it was ever there?” I asked.

“Black feathers everywhere.”

I staggered backwards, almost falling over. The Reverend grabbed my arm and steadied me. “Are you alright?” he asked. He wasn’t looking at me as he spoke, his eyes focused just above my head again, the same as they did when I bumped into him a few days earlier.

He looked scared!

Dead of July

Dead of July by Sandra Thompson