To Young to Die!

swale-at-sunset

“Someone help him, it’s Michael. He’s drowning.”

Without hesitation two cops rushed forward and jumped into the river. Lindsay tried to stand, ready to jump in the water herself, but Barbara pulled her back.

“Look, they’ve got him, what could you do?”

“Is he alive? He has to be alive.”

In a matter of minutes Michael was pulled onto the riverbank. The nurse went to work on him immediately, “Give us some space.” She yelled. “Back off.”

The crowd stood back giving Lindsay a clear view. She watched in fear praying Michael would open his eyes.  Did his eyelids flicker? Lindsay held her breath willing him to live. The crowd watched silently and when the nurse finally gave up, tears in her eyes. She looked back at Lindsay defeated.

“I’m sorry, there’s nothing else I can do. It’s too late.”

The sound of distant sirens broke the heavy silence; people drifted away, nothing more to see. Lindsay shuffled weakly across to where Michael lay and looked down at his lifeless body, tears dripping from her chin.

“No, this can’t be. Everyone around me is dying.” She laid her head on his chest and cried. No one spoke. No one moved. The sirens grew closer, but they were too late. Barbara put her hand gently on Lindsay’s back.

“Come on, leave him, you can’t do anything now.”

Lindsay didn’t move. “I should be dead, why am I still alive?”

“Hey! Stop where you are!”

Lindsay looked up when she heard Barbara shout sternly at someone. She couldn’t see who approached, but the other policemen ran towards him urgently. When Barbara stood aside she recognized the grief-stricken face.

“John, I’m so sorry.” She began to cry again.

John fell on his knees by his brother’s body.

“No, no! Dear God NO!”

Lindsay put her arms around him and they cried together, tears mingling.

John spoke, maybe to his brother, maybe to Lindsay, maybe to God. “It’s all my fault, I brought him to to bloody country. I should have left him in Ireland with the kids. I shouldn’t have tried to interfere with Patrick. It did no good. Now your friends are dead. It cost me my brother. ”

Lindsay held him tight. “You know Patrick was planning to kill again, who knows how many this time. Michael’s dead, but who knows how many people he saved. It could have been hundreds. How many more bombs was Patrick going to make?”

They clung to each other a little longer before Barbara helped Lindsay to her feet. A couple of paramedics approached. “Come on, let’s make sure you’re okay,” she said as she guided Lindsay to them.

“John had nothing to do with this. He was trying to stop Patrick.”

“We still need to talk to him, but not now.”

As she walked away Lindsay looked back over her shoulder and saw Barbara kneeling on the ground next to John, her arm around him soothing him. Oh dear God why Michael? 

She take no more, her legs gave way and she sunk to the ground.

Yes, another short story almost over, sorry its so sad. Life doesn’t always have a happy ending so make the most of every day. If you enjoy my writing, check out my first Dead of July on Amazon http://amzn.to/1aXh4Md.

Dead of July by Sandra Thompson

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Free for the last time

‘Girl on the Beach’ has been available to download as a free E-Book for around six months. Somewhere in the region of forty-five thousand copies have been downloaded, and hopefully read. I have received some fantastic reviews on Amazon, which makes me very happy.

Writing a story and publishing a book is not a job, but a passion. I learn from the criticism and treasure the positive reviews.

My first full length novel ‘Dead of July’ is almost ready to publish, and should be out in late Spring. I hope those of you who have read, and enjoyed my two short stories, will also read my novel.

‘Dead of July’ is my third book, but will not be my last.

Get your free copy of ‘Girl on the Beach’ while you can.

Girl on the Beach (US)

 

 

 

 

 

Guy at the Bar Amazon

 

Book Review – Girl on the Beach

I got a very nice book review from someone who read my short story ‘Girl on the Beach’. Nothing gives me more pleasure than knowing someone enjoyed my book. I know I will get bad reviews too, but I wanted to share this rather nice review with you. ‘Girl on the Beach’ is currently free to download as a kindle book from Amazon.

This is a pleasant journey through a few ordinary days with a not-so-ordinary 7-year-old girl. It starts with an unusual incident she has on a beach during her last day of summer vacation, and you spend the rest of the book waiting for the other shoe to drop. When it does, towards the end, you won’t necessarily be surprised but it is very well done and will leave you feeling satisfied with the hour you’ve spent listening to her tell you her tale.

Many thanks to the nice person who took the time to review my book on Amazon.

Missing Keys – ‘Dead of July’ A German Ghost Story!

Its 1982 and Sheila is in her early twenties and living in Germany. Actually, it was West Germany back then as the Berlin Wall was still firmly in place. Sheila was married to a British Soldier and loved her life as a Military wife. It was the year of Michael Jackson, the ‘King of Pop’,  ‘Tootsie’ won and academy award. It was a great year to be alive. Every thing was going just fine, until she was stalked by the Spirit of an Evil Russian. The Story Continues…..

Conan was born!

Yes 1982 was a good year to be alive!

The Girl is Mine

I drank my tea and then set off on my last run of the week.  It was a nice day, still early enough for it not to be too hot. The grass and trees were lovely and green from the rain we recently had.  I had my window open to drink in the lovely morning. My scare from the previous night was almost forgotten. I really needed to chill a little and get over what had happened with Anna and Viktor earlier in the week.  It was obviously making me jumpy, not a good combination for someone as highly strung and sensitive as I was. The guard waved me onto camp, and then waved me down. Now what was wrong, was I in trouble again, I hadn’t hit anyone with my van had I?  Once I took a corner too sharply and hit an army land rover, it was really embarrassing, but as usual, the REME boys fixed it!  The guard ran down to the window.

“Got any Cadbury’s Milk Tray?” he asked.

My van had everything

I laughed, “Yes as a matter of fact I do!” I told him.

I switched the engine off and opened the back doors so he could come around and get his chocolates.

“It’s our bloody Wedding Anniversary and I clean forgot. I can’t go home empty-handed can I now? If I she would have a headache every night for a week.” he said.

I laughed and pulled out my collection of Greeting cards.

“Maybe you should give her a card too, then she will know you definitely didn’t forget. How about a little heart on a chain to make it a really special day? Only fifteen marks”

The young guard beamed and took the chain, the chocolates and the card. A bargain for 25 marks total. He gave me his money and then asked if he could get a cup of tea.

“On the house” I said and handed him a cup.

He went back to his little guard post, happily looking at the chain he had just bought.  It was probably his first wedding anniversary as he only looked about fifteen.  Of course he had to be older than that, but not by much. I went back to the front of the van and sat down, only to find the keys gone from the ignition.  I could have sworn I hadn’t taken them out.  I had switched the engine off, but I know I left the keys dangling there.  I looked around the van to see if anyone was playing tricks with me, but there was no one in sight. I got up and searched the van, no keys. I checked my pockets, checked everywhere, where the heck were they? I jumped out of the back of my van and ran to the guard-room

“Hey, I didn’t accidentally put my van keys in the bag with your purchases did I?” I asked the little chap who had just bought the Anniversary gifts for his wife. He had the bag right there in front of him and emptied everything out.

“Not here love.” he said.

I walked back to the van feeling a little sad because the day had been going so well. I looked on the ground all around the van, even looked underneath, although I was sure that they couldn’t possibly be there. No luck, nothing. Dam! I climbed into van again and sat back down in the driver’s seat wondering what I should do. Wait a minute! The keys were back in the ignition, swinging wildly back and forth like someone had just put them there and then left in a hurry. I would have seen anyone who had been anywhere near the van so how could this happen? Then I smelled that awful smell, the one I started to think of as ‘Eau De Cossack’. No laughter this time, but I knew someone was playing tricks on me, and what was more, this someone was not alive. I could tell. If a real live person had been here either myself of the Guard would have seen him. Whoever had done this was invisible. I shivered! How was I going to sort this out?

Follow Sheila’s adventures in ‘Girl on the Beach’ and ‘Guy at the Bar’ which are available to download for $0.99 on Amzon.com and ‘Smashwords’ by clicking on the links below:

Summerhouse – County Durham – Sheila’s Story

My mum worked here - I loved this house

You can’t really see the dimensions of this farm-house from here, but this is where my mum worked whilst we lived in Summerhouse. The house was huge, or at least it seemed that way to a five-year old.

My mum worked for a very kind family, who did all they could to help her, knowing she was struggling to raise me on her own. I spent a lot of time sitting on the hearth in this house. It was a warm comfortable inviting place to be.

This photograph was taken during a recent visit. This was my first trip back to Summerhouse since 1968 and only my second trip to England since we moved Stateside in 1995. The visit brought back lots of good childhood memories. It was a little overwhelming.

Much of the village was a little run down, but the village green hadn’t changed, and there was still a swing hanging from the big old Chestnut tree. Sadie’s Post Office was no longer there. The little brown bus shelter, where I used to stand to catch my bus to school every morning, was still there and looked exactly the same as it did all of those years ago.

The field at bottom of my garden.

Now back to Sheila’s story.

This field was Sheila’s playground. When she moved to Summerton (back to the story names), she felt like she was the luckiest girl in the world. She could just hop over the fence at the bottom of the garden and she was free. She would run around this field until she could run no more. It filled with wild flowers which she picked in huge bunches for her mum. There were ‘milkmaids’, cow slips, ladies fingers, buttercups, soldiers buttons. It was a young girls idea of heaven.

Soldiers Buttons

cowslips

Milkmaids

Buttercups

The field looked and smelled divine. Sheila’s mum told her that if you held a bunch of buttercups under your chin, and the yellow reflection showed, it meant you liked butter.  Sheila made friends the a couple of the kids in the village before she started school. There were only a couple of kids her age, and then a couple of older ones.

At last Sheila felt like she had a normal life. She had her own bed, well when her brother wasn’t staying she did. When her brother Bobby came home, Sheila shared her mum’s big bed. Bobby was in the Fleet Airarm, so he didn’t come home very often. At least she didn’t have to sleep on an air-bed on the floor anymore. She missed her Gran though, and wondered a little about her Grandad, and the time he appeared on the fell.

Sheila used to stand and look out of the big sash window in her bedroom at night when she couldn’t sleep. She wondered if there were big fireflies in the field at the bottom of the garden. Or maybe they were fairies. She would see something that looked like soft balls of fire flitting and dancing around the field after dark, when the world was asleep. She decided they were fairies. It was magical.

To read my short stories about Sheila, and her adventures, click on the links below to download them from Amazon or Smashwords.

You can also get a personalized copy from my website:

Spooked – Dead of July

 

Last night I worked on my novel ‘Dead of July’.

I spooked myself

It was intense. I was writing about being in my apartment in Germany all alone. It was early in the morning and I was rushing to get out and catch a tram to work. 

I could hear someone laughing in what should have been my ’empty’ apartment. 

I ran out of the door and down the stairs. An invisible hand placed itself firmly between my shoulder blades and pushed me. 

I managed to stop myself from falling down three flights of stairs, but only just. 

I was wrapped up in what I was writing that when I stopped, I felt like I was there. I was on Robert Strasse in Germany, afraid and alone, and haunted. I was completely spooked and as I got ready for bed I was nervous and jumpy.  Here I am again, alone and getting ready to work on my novel. 

 

Download my two short stories from Amazon for $0.99 or purchase the paperback for $5.99 from the links below: 

 

Dead of July – The Fifa World Cup Final was approaching.

The annoying presence of the smelly Evil Cossack was certainly becoming a regular occurrence, but I couldn’t let it ruin the big event, which was rapidly approaching. The fight for the FIFA World Cup. Who would be the win the coveted trophy? Would it be West Germany? I certainly hoped not because Italy was my team!!!

1982 World Cup was held in Spain - the logo was everywhere.

Morning always comes too quickly. When I next opened my eyes the sun was shining through a crack in the curtains. I could smell coffee mixed with the fresh smell of soap from the shower.  I got up and poured myself a cup of coffee and sat at the table to drink it. The sun was blasting through the windows telling me it was going to be another hot day. I loved the summer. In the brightness of the new morning, I felt silly for being so scared the night before. I had let my imagination get the better of me as usual. I had Viktor on my mind and was worrying that he found out that I had helped Anna escape. It made me see him everywhere.  I needed to pull myself together and stop dwelling on it.

As soon as Les finished his morning shower I went and showered myself and got ready for work. We were riding to work together and I needed to get moving or we would be late. Luckily for me I could wear jeans to work, and I put on a t-shirt under my blue overall. I put my ‘face’ on while Les ate breakfast and in no time, I was ready to go. It was Friday at last and the weekend was looming happily ahead of me. As I got out of the car and wandered into camp, I saw my yellow van parked in its usual place, and looking as good as new, actually a little brighter than it usually did. I think the British Army didn’t specialize in yellow and a good deal of paint mixing was done to get anything that closely resembled the color it used to be. There was no denying that REME guys had done a good job, and quickly painted over the nasty graffiti. They were making sure I would be there making my rounds and delivering their morning and afternoon tea and sandwiches as usual. They were a good crowd, and made my dead-end job seem worthwhile. How many people could say they really enjoyed what they did every day. I think I was one of the very few. I knew it wasn’t a good career move for me, but it wouldn’t do me any harm to enjoy this stress-free job for a while. I was only 26 after all!

My yellow van wasn't half as nice as this.

I set about my morning task of making sandwiches and packing them into the back of my van, along with dough nuts (fat pills), tea, coffee, and on a Friday, boxes of chocolates, Black Magic being the favorite choice.  It seemed to be a Friday tradition for some of the boys to buy chocolates for their wives on a Friday night, probably in the hopes of getting ‘lucky’ over the weekend.  Once my truck was loaded I sat down with Isabelle and Viv and had a cup of tea.  We chatted about the coming weekend and the World Cup Final, which of course we would all be watching.  Saturday was pretty important too, as France and Poland played against each other for third and fourth position.  I wasn’t too worried about that game. I had decided to go into Dortmund shopping instead.  Les would probably get together with the guys to watch it. My next game was going to be the final between Germany and Italy. Viva Italia! I took great pleasure in annoying any German I came in contact with by letting them know I wanted Italy to win.  I hoped it didn’t come back to bite me!!!!  I know they would enjoy taunting me it in if Italy lost.  I couldn’t help it though.  It was way too much fun, watching them get flustered and angry because I had the audacity to live in Germany and cheer for Italy.

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Download my two short stories for $0.99 from the following links:

Dead of July – an end in sight?

This book started off being called ‘A Walk in the Park’ and was going to be another short story. I got a little carried away!

Paulo Rossi - Hero of the 1982 FiFA World Cup

Borzigplats - the location of 'Dead of July'

My vandalized van

I have now written over forty thousand words, which in a page count is around 120 pages, a lot longer than I intended it to be. The current word count puts me in ‘no mans land’ when it comes to publishing because it is shorter than a novel and longer than a novella.

I am not finished yet so I will make the ‘novel’ word count as I probably have at least another thirty thousand words to write. I am at a very crucial part of the story, where everything comes to a head. Sheila has been tormented by a dead Russian, and stalked by his very much ‘alive’ brother. The stalking becomes a real threat when he tries to run her down in broad daylight!

 

Enjoy some images I have been blogging relating to my novel.

If piques your interest, check out my two short stories. They are a little rough around the edges, but everyone has to start somewhere.  I think they are great value for $0.99. I think you will find them entertaining. They will also introduce you to Sheila, who has been in trouble with the living and the dead for as long as she can rmember. Each story is based on something that really happened.

Bedroom Visitation?

GERMAN GHOST STORY – 1982  

I am two-thirds of my way through my novel, and editing as I blog. The installment of my German Ghost Story is below. If  anyone is following this story, please help me with a title. The talented Mike Brooker is about to work on my book Cover, which of course can not be finished without a title…..HELP!  Put your thinking caps on as you read.

THE YEAR OF THE SHOWDOWN BETWEEN WEST GERMANY AND THE ITALIANS IN THE FIFA WORLD CUP!

I started feeling a little better with the world after shouting and cheering for the Italian team. It had been very therapeutic.

While Les got ready for bed I went in the kitchen and washed the glasses we had been using. I left them on draining board as usual and was about to put out the kitchen light and get ready for bed myself, when I heard something in the spare bedroom behind me.  I turned and opened the door, wondering if the stray cat from the other night had found its way in again. I didn’t see how it could, but cats had a way of doing the things you least expected.

Did the cat get in again?

The room was in complete darkness, apart from the light that fell through the doorway from the kitchen. Everything was silent again, nothing moved.  It must have been my imagination. I closed the door and turned around with the intention of drying the glasses I had just washed.  Now I did hear a noise, it was the sound of smashing glass. I froze as I watched both glasses topple off the draining board and into the sink.  How had that happened? I hadn’t left them anywhere near the edge of the draining board. Unless the house had tilted, there was nothing to make them move the way they did. I put my hand into the sink to pick up the glass and immediately cut myself. 

Glasses broken in the sink

“Dammit” I said.

Then I did hear something in the spare room. It was a very low quiet rumbling laugh.

I ran out of the kitchen as fast as I could. I ran right into Les, who was on his way into the kitchen to see what all the noise was about. I was glad he was home as this would not be a good night to be home alone!  We went back into the kitchen and cleaned the glass up.  Les helped me put a plaster on my bleeding thumb. Then we both stood in silence and looked at the door into the spare room.  Les wasn’t scared, but he knew I was.  We had been married for five years and although he had not witnessed any of my visitors in the physical form, he had seen strange things happen.

When we were on vacation once, a neighbor who had been house sitting for us, had run from our house terrified as all the doors in the house opened and then slammed shut whilst he was watering our plants (and looking through our record collection). Whilst living in that same house, dogs had crossed the road rather than walk past our front door. Pictures fell off walls if Les and I argued.  Neither Les or myself, had felt any evil or malevolence there, so whatever shared the house with use, liked us, or was looking out for us. We didn’t think that the ‘presence’ had followed us to Germany, but maybe it had. 

I continue to write and edit this novel, aiming for perfection. Check in with me on my Facebook Page or my Website. I would love to hear your views, comments, title ideas.