Fire and Darkness

Fire and Darkness, is almost ready for my copy editor. This book was originally published back in 2009 as Girl on the Beach. It was my second short story, but the first one I released. Now, it is completely re-edited and I think attractive to a much wider audience. If you like Ghost Stories set in England, this book is for you. It doesn’t fall into any particular genre, but I think would be a light enjoyable read for almost anyone, young and old alike. Have you ever been to Blackpool? Let me give you a taste of my book.

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Alone and terrified I watched the beach come to life. Strangers appeared, born from thin air. They spoke quickly in a different language as they ran towards the water. I looked in the direction they ran and saw something burning ferociously, flames emerging from the waves.

“Hey, what’s happening?” I shouted to a young man close by, but he ignored me. People gathered at the water’s edge, some wading towards the flames, but not getting far, it was too hot. A tiny hand slipped into mine and I looked down to see the tearful dirty face of a young child looking up at me.

And now let me give you a taste of Blackpool.

Blackpool Beach and Tower

Blackpool Beach and Tower

A 99 and a lime-split please

A 99 and a lime-split please

My current book is available on Amazon and Smashwords.

Dead of July – A German Ghost Story (Amazon)

Dead of July – A German Ghost Story (Smashwords)

Dead of July by Sandra Thompson

Serious Mischief – Moving in from the Cold?

cold ghostIt’s approaching that time of year again. What time of year is that? The mischievous time, and it’s already started.  The mischief began five years ago. It was late October, and in one single morning, three of my kitchen appliances broke. My blender, wine fridge and compactor. Everything always seems to come in threes, so I thought it was just my bad luck……until the following year when it happened all over again. It became an annual event. Last year my newly fitted bathroom sprung a leak, my washing machine broke and my tumble drier caught fire. This all happened in the same week!

And here we go again. The toilet in our master bathroom has become possessed (you may laugh), but it flushes and fills up on its own. After close inspection we see nothing wrong with it. Thankfully it’s stopped now (after a week). My husbands (I think he called it his proxy server) stopped working for NO REASON, much to his frustration and then our septic tank backed up!

OK, so you are all thinking that’s life, these things happen, and yes I agree, but why do they always happen late September/early October. Why do they sometimes just fix themselves?

I could let all of those things slide a little if it wasn’t for the objects I keep seeing in the corner of my eye, causing me to turn for a better look. When I turn there’s nothing there of course, but I know there was.

When I lay in bed last night I saw my husband walk past the bedroom door, and spoke to him. He never answered, but about ten seconds later, walked up the stairs. I sat up confused “I just saw you walk past the bedroom door,” I said.

No you didn’t, I’ve just come upstairs.”

Yes, it’s that time of year again, my mischievous visitor is back. Maybe its a ghost that lives outside in the Summer, but chooses to move somewhere warmer when it gets cold.

If that’s the case, you’re welcome my friend, no one likes to be cold, but please don’t break anything else.

These events are pretty small compared to my other visitors and premonitions. I share all of my adventures with you in a series of books. Dead of July is currently available for kindle and various other eReaders (smashwords), for $3.99. It’s the first of many stories about Sheila (me) and all of her trials and tribulations because of her premonitions and visitations. 

 Dead of July – A German Ghost Story (Amazon)

Dead of July - (Smashwords)

Dark Shadow – Death of Everyone You Love!

death-04

I awoke the following morning to the sound of my apartment door closing. Looking at the clock I saw it was 5:30am. Was Jeff leaving already? I smelled coffee so I donned my robe and made my way to the kitchen. There was a note on the countertop. I took your spare key in case you are still at work when I get back. The thought of Jeff coming back gave me a warm feeling. Was it because I felt safe when he was around, or maybe I had feelings for him. I always had a soft spot for him, even back in the day when he walked the streets and everyone thought him crazy. He wasn’t crazy, just different, I knew how that felt.

Pouring myself a cup of coffee I walked across to the window. This was the place I stood when I first saw the Dark Angel after leaving hospital. I shivered; it was the day my dad was killed in a car crash. Damn you! I said to myself. I will not let you take any more lives.

Try and stop me!

Did I really hear someone whisper in my ear?

Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name……….. I recited the Lord’s Prayer, not knowing what else to do, but feeling like I needed to do something. No more whispers, it was probably my imagination.

I didn’t feel the least bit like going to work but I had bills to pay, so after finishing my coffee, I jumped in the shower. I was on edge.

Was I being watched? Where was the Dark Angel when I didn’t see her? Was she watching me?

My work day was long; I watched the hours tick slowly by until five o clock finally came around. When I arrived home Jeff was waiting for me. “I brought food,” he said, “Chinese, I remember you used to like Chinese food.”

“Oh yea, we went to that little Chinese Restaurant in Richmond once right! I’d forgotten.”

“You bought me dinner. You were kind to me when no-one else would talk to me.”

“You didn’t have many friends back then did you Jeff?”

“Still don’t,” he said as he set the table.

A chilling breeze tormented my ear, a breeze that whispered Oh you like him don’t you, killing him is going to be fun.”

I looked at Jeff, terror obvious on my face. Was I losing me mind?

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Did you hear that?” I asked, “did you hear someone whisper.” I was shaking.

“No, what did they say?”

I burst into tears. “It’s the Dark Angel. She wants to kill you. You have to stop helping me, go home.”

 

If you like my blog, try out my first novel Dead of July – A German Ghost Story. Also available on Smashwords – Dead of July

Dead of July by Sandra Thompson

I’m still an old newbie to the world of writing, and marketing isn’t my thing. If you read my book, and enjoy it, please spread the word. I’d love a comment on my blog to let me know what you think, even better, a review on Amazon.

If you’re enjoying my blog story, let me know. I need any encouragement you have to offer.

 

Fighting Back – Dark Angel

Fire_feather_by_brent_the_claw

Although I was still sitting on my sofa, everything around me had changed. The room was dark and full of writhing whispering shadows. Objects floated before me, indistinguishable at first, and then one by one, they came into focus. I was back under the bridge, lying on the ground, dying! I watched the life trickle away from me. A man lay dying next to his truck, moaning, clinging to life. A dark shadow crossed his face and he breathed no more. I saw a woman standing by a grave, crying. I knew it was his wife. A little girl held her hand, her face full of grief.

“No, stop I can’t watch this.” I yelled.

“Hush be still, I’m here.” Jeff whispered. I looked at him, he seemed to glow. He looked strong.

A cold harsh laugh pierced the darkness of the room. “Who dares to call me?”

Jeff spoke, and although I heard his gentle calming voice, I knew not what he said. It sounded like a prayer, but in a language I’d never heard.

“Go away, you can’t hurt me with your mumbling.”

Jeff continued to chant. Objects flew towards us and I cowered, my hands in front of my face, but nothing reached us. Some hidden force field protected us. Jeff continued to chant.

The voice of the Dark Angel laughed, shrieking. “You’ll never escape me, until I’m done with you. I kept you alive. You ungrateful bitch.”

“I’d rather be dead than owe you anything.” I shouted, trying to be brave.

“Oh I want to pleasure myself a little longer, you haven’t suffered enough yet,” the evil voice responded.

Jeff continued to chant. We were in the eye of a storm in my own home. I saw things I didn’t want to see. People writhing in pain, world-wide disasters. Were these visions things that had already happened, or a preview of what was yet to come. I grew dizzy……..the phone rang.

Everything stopped moving. Jeff stopped chanting. The dark fog that filled the room faded away.

“Answer the phone,” Jeff said, as thought nothing had happened.

“What?”

“The phone, answer it, it’s the vicar!”

I picked up the phone. “Lucy, I think I’ve found someone to help us with your problem. Can you take the day off work tomorrow. I think we’re running out of time.”

I gulped, “Yes, I’ll call in sick.”

I put the phone down and looked at Jeff, who was packing his canvas bag. How did he know who was calling?

“What the hell just happened?” I asked.

“We’ve begun our fight against the evil that haunts you. We have quite the battle on our hands. It seems you owe it your life.”

I looked around me, everything was still neatly in place. No sign of the chaos I’d just witnessed, except a scattering of dark feathers on the rug. Jeff followed my gaze and walked over to them. “We have to keep working at this. Whenever you see a dark feather, burn it. It weakens her.”

He gathered the feathers, counting them as he did so. There were seven. He dropped them in the sink and put a match to them. The odor they emitted as they burned smelled of decaying flesh. I covered my mouth and nose while Jeff washed away the ashes.

“Please will you stay with me tonight?” I asked.”I’m scared!”

Jeff smiled, “I’m moving in for a while, it’s not safe for you to be alone anymore.”

My first novel, Dead of July, is available on Amazon and Smashwords, see the links below.

Dead of July – Smaswords – formatted for most eReaders

http://amzn.to/1aXh4Md

Dead of July by Sandra Thompson

 

 

 

 

 

 

Coming soon, a new short story  by Sandra Thompson – Fire and Darkness – more info to follow soon.

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.