They left me with the Treat Lady

Coming Soon in print and ebook

My humans went away and now I’m living with the Treat Lady. Every day, I sit by the window, watching and waiting for them to come back.

Even though I miss my humans, I like the Treat Lady! She gives me lots of Profutto. Fendi said if I look at her with puppy-dog eyes, she will give me bacon, too—and Fendi is right!

The Treat Lady takes me for lots of walks, and we see fluffy little playthings. She calls them rabbits. They are everywhere!

Now I can climb the wooden tower humans call “stairs,” and I am teaching the Treat Lady how to play tug of war with my squeaky toy.

I know my humans will come back soon. Until they do, I will eat Profutto and bacon—and chase rabbits!

King William IV – Brompton

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King William IV – Brompton-on-Swale

Every time I look at this pub it brings back warm fuzzy memories. It is the first place I legally purchased an alcoholic drink.
I remember the little group of old timers that sat in the bar every night.
I loved this place!
I remember Hen Parties (Bachelorette Parties in my current place of abode), and tinsel at Christmas.
I also remember the guy who tried to come on to me at the bar, and the landlady who let me out the back to escape him.
I embellished on this incident for my first ever short story, Guy at the Bar, and was immediately hooked on writing.
Guy at the bar can be purchased, with a collection of short stories in my eBook Ghosts on the Sand and other chilling tales. If you live in North Yorkshire and like quirky tales written by someone who spent their childhood in the beautiful village of Brompton on Swale, give it a try.

Ghosts on the Sand

And here it is, finally! I don’t think writing is ever going to make me rich, but it sure makes me happy. If you’d like to share my happiness, click on the link below and give it a try.

SandraBookCoverGhostsOnTheSand

Ghosts on the Sand https://amzn.to/2BYocgW

Am I Alive or am I Dead? Where am I?

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Speeding through the darkness.

I see no one!

My body tingles with excitement.

Out of control!

Help!

A hand lightly touches my thigh. A cold hand.

Shivering, shaking, freezing.

Leaning forward I smell leather.

Someone pulls my hair?

Digs nails into my neck?

Screeching in my ear.

Who’s there?

Leave me alone.

I’m cold!

So very cold.

Getting colder.

Where am I?

Am I still alive?

Falling in Love with a Ghost?

I was overpowered by feelings I didn’t understand. My head was too heavy for my neck. I swayed a little. From nowhere a strong hand grabbed my arm steadying me, keeping me upright. Nothing felt real. Slowly I turned my head. A masculine hand, almost hidden by shabby black leather, rested on my arm. I almost swooned so strong were my emotions. It had to be him; it had to be the smoking man. Weakly I reached out wanting to hold on and make him stay. His presence was intoxicating. Before I could feel my skin against his, he was gone.

A cold breeze kissed my cheek.

“Hey, what’s up, are you OK?

I turned around to see the solitary figure of Pete, one of my old boyfriends, walking down the narrow deserted street towards me.

“Not really! Something weird just happened.”

“Have you been at the cannabis again?” he asked, a look of genuine concern on his face.

“No, I don’t do that anymore.” Now I was irritated.

“Sorry, you just look really out of it. I tell you what, if you buy me a drink and I’ll lend you an ear?” he said with a big grin on his semi-handsome face. I say semi-handsome because he was irresistible when he smiled, but plain as a pikestaff when he didn’t. He was smiling as he approached so I couldn’t refuse. He took my arm and linked it in his.

“How about Brandy and sofa?” He said.

At least he made me smile, “lets skip the sofa shall we? I’ll take a Brandy and Coke instead. Who’s sofa are you drinking Brandy on these days?” I asked.

“That would be telling!”

“Oh, so she’s married?”

“Come on you’re the one with problems, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

I stopped walking and looked at Pete, I hadn’t thought about that. Was I falling in love with a ghost?

This installment is long overdue, but I’ve been traveling and gathering ideas for my books. Clearing my mind of all the thoughts that got stuck there this year and making room for fresh ones. I think it worked. I’m raring to go. Don’t give up on me, I’ve plenty more stories to tell.

Check out my first novel Dead of July. Its only $0.99 on Amazon.

http://amzn.to/1aXh4Md

I Heard it through the GRAPEVINE of my fantasies! Where are you bad boy?

BadboyIt took a lot of make-up to fix my face for work that day. Dark circles hung under my puffy eyes. That was one hell of a nightmare, but it wasn’t really a nightmare, nothing bad happened. It was a vivid dream. The bad boy from the car park and the pub triggered my imagination. I was fantasizing about him. Wait a minute; there was no bad boy! 

I bet you’re wonderin’ how I knew
‘Bout your plans to make me blue
With some other guy you knew before
Between the two of us guys
You know I loved you more
It took me by surprise I must say
When I found out yesterday
Don’t you know that I heard it through the grapevine
Not much longer would you be mine
Oh I heard it through the grapevine
Oh I’m just about to lose my mind

I started singing along to Marvin Gay and turned the radio up, maybe it would erase the images of my fantasy man. I liked the images that played in my head, but they were way too strong. I needed a dose of reality!

The DJ on the radio station chirped in, “yes, it’s that time of year again folks, the fair is on its way to Richmond. Candy floss, burgers, and the brutality of the waltzers to eject those divine, but bad treats from your stomach. Good times!”

I smiled; I loved the fair when it came to Richmond. The older locals hated the noise it brought, along with diesel fumes and food, but it brought money to the town so they tolerated it. Feeling a little better I grabbed my bag and set off to work. It was a good morning to walk. No frost this morning, just a slight mist hanging over the town. Once that burned off it would be a beautiful day.

Misty Richmond

I had the office to myself. Cindy had an early appointment and there was still no sign of Jan. I made myself a second cup of coffee, and while the computer booted up, gazed out of the window and down to the car park. That’s where it all began, that’s where I first saw you smoking man. Are you real?

Cigarette smoke tantalized my nostrils. I turned around quickly, almost spilling my coffee.

No one was in the room but me.

Somewhere a motorbike fired up!

I love Saturday mornings, its my time. I enjoy a second cappuccino as I blog. Loving my bad boy story. It brings back memories of my teenage years in Brompton on Swale and Richmond, North Yorkshire. Of course this is all fiction…or is it?

Give my first novel Dead of July a try. Available on Amazon for a mere $0.99. If you love it, let me know. If you don’t love it, let me know why.

Dead of July by Sandra Thompson

2011 – What will it bring?

It starts with a farewell (all be it temporary) to old friends. It just doesn’t seem right, but today I took my  first book down from Amazon. My finger hovered over the ‘unpublish’ button for a while, but finally I did it. I took ‘Guy at the Bar’ down. It will be back sometime in late April, early May, but for now it is gone.

Today is a day of reflection and relaxation, but going forward, 2011 is the year I get my act together and start my marketing campaign. If no one knows my books are out there, how can I sell them? Once ‘Girl on the Beach’ is published on Amazon, I will be a lean, mean campaigning machine.

Tomorrow I am hoping to post another story about my adjustment to life in America. Eventually that will be in the form of a book too, but while I am getting ideas together, I will share them with you on my blog. I am starting to feel like I am running ideas by my friends when I do this.

Happy New Year to you all, and keep tuning in. If you like what you read, please share with your friends. Social networking is good for me.

 

Three days left for the ‘Old’ Guy at the Bar

I am counting down the time for ‘Guy at the Bar’ to remain on Amazon in its current format. I feel quite sad to be taking it down, but it really does need to be edited.

It served its purpose and got my writing career started.

If you are brave enough to read the unedited version, you have three days left to buy it for two dollars. After Friday, it will be gone, but not forgotten. If you want to read it when it had been edited to make it more readable (especially for the American reader) it will be back up in March or April.

Watch out for my next Novella, ‘Girl on the Beach’ it will be on Amazon very soon and I think you will enjoy it.

Thank you and Goodnight!

 

 

Flat Country Snow – Chapter Four – Breakfast

So here we are again, after many distractions, back to my story.  Look at that delicious breakfast.  They call it a ‘Full English’, eggs, bacon, sausages, mushrooms, tomatoes, beans and of course……black pudding. This would be served with fried bread and toast. Not sure if I could eat all of that now, but I used to love waking up to a breakfast like this. I know back pudding (or blood pudding) is hard for some people to stomach, but I loved it. I hope you enjoy chapter four of my story.  This is romance with a twist. I do believe in love and romance, but in my stories it is a secondary factor. This story still makes me smile when I read it. Not sure why, maybe it just brings back a lot of young and innocent memories, reminding me of how I was when I was 17.  I hope this makes you smile too. 

Chapter Four

Steven (I kept trying to call him Steve, but it just didn’t fit) was still fast asleep on the bed beside me, fully clothed, and looking as if he hadn’t moved all night.  I was very relieved that I had woken up first because I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and I looked awful.  Mascara all over my face, dress crumpled from sleeping in it…Yuk! I grabbed my bag of toiletries and my dressing gown and headed down the hallway to get a bath and make myself presentable.  The big grandfather clock at the end of the hallway said 8:30, so we had managed to get a good night’s sleep, and I actually didn’t have a hangover, maybe I should make champagne my regular tipple. I wish I could afford that luxury.  That stuff had been about fifteen pounds a bottle, and we had three bottles last night.  In 1974, that was enough to feed a family for a week, or enough to keep you in booze for a month. 

            I ran a nice hot bubble bath, and lowered myself into it.  It felt good, I allowed myself to relax for a few minutes before washing my hair and getting dried.  The bathroom was getting pretty steamy so I opened the window, but only a crack. Burr, it was cold, it was very cold. It wasn’t snowing heavily, but I could see ice particles glistening in the air.  It did the trick though, the steam escaped out of the window and I was able to clear the mirror enough to see myself.  I towel dried my hair to get most of the wetness out and then headed back to my bedroom.  Steven was no longer sleeping on the bed, so I quickly got dressed before he showed up again.  I sat on the stool in front of the dressing table and put on my ‘face’, I still smiled about putting make up on. My mum always used to sit and put her ‘face’ while I watched her.  She never wore much make up, but always sat there and applied it under my watchful eyes.  I missed those days. Life was much easier when you were young. I had just finished putting on my makeup and was spraying myself with perfume,( j’reviens by worth) when there was a tap on the door. I was about to shout “Come in” and then thought the better of it, just in case it wasn’t Steven. I opened the door to find one of the hotel staff standing there with a trolley loaded with food, some of which was covered with big stainless steel domed lids.  Wow, breakfast in my room, I did feel special.  I ushered him in and he laid out breakfast for two on the table by the window.  He uncovered two plates of egg and bacon, with fried bread and mushrooms. There was a pot of tea, orange juice and also a dish of strawberries. My tummy started rumbling at the sight of it. Just as he finished setting it out on the table my weekend fiancée appeared. He was a wonderful sight, standing there in the doorway in jeans and a big bulky sweater. Clothes just looked good on him, they probably looked good off him too, but I didn’t think I was ever going to see him minus clothes.  He was going to make some man very happy some day, when he found the courage to ‘come out’ anyway.  The porter left the room and Steven and I sat down and had breakfast together.  I thought the morning may be awkward, but really it wasn’t.  We chatted about the night before, and he thanked me for making the evening such a success.  I kept telling him that I hadn’t really done anything, just enjoyed a pleasant evening, with good company.  I had actually been a pretty spectacular evening, but I didn’t want him to know that. We lingered over breakfast, both of us knowing that we would probably never see each other again.  It was a shame really because we were enjoying each other’s company, but it was always going to be a friendship, nothing more. Finally after spending way too long over breakfast, Steven stood up and told me we should get going. His flight was at three o clock that afternoon, so he needed to be back at the army camp by noon, and I really needed to get on my way back home as the snow would definitely slow me down. Steven went back to his room and collected his belongings and I did the same thing. I hadn’t really unpacked anything, so there wasn’t much to put in my case, but I certainly didn’t want to leave anything behind.  I put Steven’s beautiful ruby and diamond ring back in its case ready to give to him.  I checked the room again and stepped out into the hallway.  Steven’s door was open so I went into his room, he was standing looking out of the window in deep thought.  “Penny for them” I said and he turned around and smiled.  He grabbed his green army overnight bag checked around the room again, and then came over to the door. I held the ring out to him, and he shook his head. “No, you keep it” he said “My grandma would have liked you, so you should have it” “I can’t, it’s worth way too much” I told him, it really was an antique.  He looked troubled, as if he didn’t know what to do and then said “OK, well you hang on to it for now, it seems only right, then you can give it back to me when we meet up again, we probably will you know, so just hang on to it until we do”.  I almost felt like singing the old Vera Lynn Song “We’ll meet again, don’t know where, don’t know when, but I know we’ll meet again some sunny day”. I really wasn’t sure we would ever meet again, but it would be nice if we did. Steven actually looked like he may be about to cry.  I walked over and gave him a big hug, and he hugged me back, very tightly and then we turned around and left the hotel.  I stopped at the front desk to pay, but the bill had already been taken care of. I really had been treated to a wonderful week-end. It was all a little overwhelming.