The soothing smell of my Guardian Angel

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Father Peter, could you please bless my home before Gay and her husband arrive?”

“Of course we can, you need to be part of this too so please join me. Is there any place you’d like me to start?”

He followed me to our bedroom, “This is where I’ve felt most of the activity.”

“When you say activity what do you mean?”

“Shadows, whispering, I felt someone touch me.”

We walked into the bedroom and stood in silence for a moment. Father Peter looked thoughtful for a few seconds, and then he walked over to the window and opened it wide. “If we’re chasing the bad air out, let’s give it a place to go.”

He stood at the end of our bed and began to pray. His voice was soothing. I closed my eyes and focused on his words. Warm air circulated in the room, surrounding me, cushioning me in comfort. It felt good. Father Pete’s words ceased and I opened my eyes. Everything was still, I smelled lavender and lily of the valley.

“Do you smell that?” I asked.

Father Peter smiled at me, “I do, is it coming from outside?”

“No I don’t think it is, it smells like it’s coming from you.”

“Do you recognize the smell?”

“Yes, at my Grandma’s house. She wore lily of the valley perfume, and grew lavender in her garden.”

“Maybe she’s your Guardian Angel and she’s watching over you, or maybe you’re summoning up the smell because it makes you feel safe.”

1984 – Evil Lingers

Remember the eighties? I do! I was in my early twenties and living in Dortmund, West Germany!
Remember the hairstyles, those fashions…need I say more? It was a blast…except when it wasn’t.
Remember those movies “The Evil Dead, The Exorcist, Phantasm, Nightmare on Elm Street”? Scary weren’t they? You’d snuggle up to someone for protection, feeling nervous, jumpy and wondering if those thing really happened.

For me they did happen. They happened when I had no one to snuggle up to. They happened when I was alone and vulnerable, and I’ll never forget. Evil Lingers for a long time, and the memory lingers even now!

Dead and Angry!

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What if the lingering evil of Viktor and his dead mother decided to visit me? He’d visited me from the other side before. Could he could do it again? Could he be stronger with dead mother beside him? What if she was a charred ghost, hell bent on revenge? I was startled out of my thoughts by a loud rapping sound.
Who could be coming to visit at this time of night?

 

Viktor – An insight!

Dead of July (Small)

Viktor never knew love. He was used by Marianna, his mother in ways you can’t even imagine, ways I can’t bring myself to write about. She was a monster! In the late seventies, when Vlad, Viktor’s  father was killed by a competing crime family, Marianna took revenge and then fled to Germany with her two sons, Viktor and Yuri. She became the Queen of a lucrative criminal world. A smart organized woman, she changed her business to suit the needs of the underworld. She traded guns, secrets and worst of all, women. No women is not the right word, she bought and sold young girls.

In her youth she was beautiful to look at, and took lovers as and when she pleased, male or female, it didn’t matter. If they pleased her she kept them for a while. If they didn’t satisfy her needs, they simply disappeared.

Marianna’s lifestyle caused her to age badly. Too much vodka, cocaine and sleepless nights turned her beautiful face into a grotesque mask. Willing lovers became few and far between, so she took her pick from the men who worked for her, and the young girls she traded. They were unwilling partners, and many were never seen again.

Yes Viktor was evil, but his mother was much worse, she was the Devil.

Dare I sleep?

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Tucked into my bed, alone! No part of me exposed to the air, hiding, scared, no sleep for me tonight.
When will I be safe again?
The air moves, I feel it.
“Who’s there?”
No reply.
I’ve come for your unborn child.
I know my fears are talking to me. I’m alone with my fear, conjuring up terrors that don’t exist.
The bedcovers slowly glide down the bed and onto the floor.
Icy air touches my skin. Cold, dirty air, tainted with an evil presence.
“Won’t someone please, HELP ME!”
I shouted to an empty room. No one heard.
I clutched my stomach and prayed.

Lingering Evil – Shadows

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“Who’s there?” I asked again.

Whispers in the darkness! Distorted shadows moved past the end of the bed and deepened in the corner of the room.

Les sat up sleepily. “What’s going on? Are you having one of your dreams?”

I sometimes had dreams that turned out to be premonitions, Les was used to them, but they were unpredictable.

“No, someone touched me!”

I was wide awake.

Dead of July – The Sequel

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Dead of July was the book I had the most fun writing, I lost myself in the past. So much of this book is real. The eighties, the fun, the excitement! I was in my twenties in this book, a good time for anyone!
I finished Ghosts on the Sand a couple of weeks ago. Since publishing it on Amazon I’ve had some great feedback, particularly from the folks in Brompton on Swale, Catterick and Richmond, which is where most of the stories are set.
Now its time to go back to the eighties and write the sequel to Dead of July. There is still a lot to write. Sheila found out she was pregnant on Valentine’s Day of 1984. She was both happy and terrified at the thought of being a mum…I can say no more. Watch out for my next book, Lingering Evil, the sequel to Dead of July.

Both of my books are available on Amazon for a mere $0.99. I’m not famous (yet) so I can’t demand Stephen King type prices…but maybe one day!

Dead of July

Ghosts on the Sand

Thanks for stopping by!

Dead of July – Lingering Evil

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Four years ago, when I self published Dead of July, I was SO very proud of myself. I received some very honest reviews. They weren’t glowing reviews, but they weren’t bad either. They were encouraging, said I had a talent for writing. Life kept me busy for a while, but two or three weeks ago I finished my second book Ghosts on the Sandwhich is now available on Amazon. Ghosts on the Sand is a collection of short stories and already receiving great feedback. I don’t think the book will make me rich, but that’s not why I wrote it. My pleasure is writing. I have two more stories on a back burner, The Engineer, which started life as a novella, but is evolving into a novel, and aeroporto, an idea that tantalized my brain while sitting in a small airport in Pescara Italy. However, I’ve decided to put both of those on a back burner to write a sequel to Dead of July.  There are things unfinished in Sheila’s life. A very evil woman lurks in the shadows, a woman who should be dead, a woman who wants revenge!

Lies

Jean hovered on the outskirts of the crowd and watched. Some folks left in cars, some returned to their rooms. Finally just a handful remained. They  were helping the police with their inquiries. She listened to Bill’s lies as he spoke to them.

Wiping his eyes, he put on a good show, “I just buried my wife, and couldn’t face going home, couldn’t face the house without her,” He looked distraught. His eyes were bloodshot, but from smoke not tears. “I’d not been in my room long, and was about to take a shower when I smelled smoke.” (he stopped and faked a very effective coughing fit)

Jean looked at the bulging pockets of his robe, and then back at his lying face. She willed the WPC to see past his lies, but is was useless.

“Sir, can I take your name and address, we’ll talk to you later. Get yourself checked out and go home. Where are your clothes?”
Bill stumbled over his first few words, but it the police officer didn’t notice.
“I er, I was getting into the shower, which is why I’m wearing this. Then I ran to the next room  to help the young lady…oh god, she’s dead isn’t she.” He began to cry.
The officer waved someone over, “Can you make sure this gentleman is okay to return home. Do you need a ride sir?”
“No, my car is here and I feel fine.”
Bastard, lying cheating bastard! You should be dead.
“Lets get you some clothes, you can’t go home in a robe”
Bill pulled the hotel robe around him tightly. The last thing he wanted to do was hand it over.
“I’m fine with this, I don’t live far away, and can pull straight into my garage. Please don’t trouble yourselves.”
“Well only if you’re sure.”
A paramedic came and talked to Bill, checked his vitals. He nodded to the Police officer.
“Off you go, get cleaned up at home, we’ll be in touch.”
Bill turned his back on the scene and walked away. He was smiling.
Do I take my Audi, or do I take the Alfa Romeo?

In the back of the ambulance, Sofia’s body was covered and zipped into a brown plastic body bag. Plastic couldn’t hold her angry spirit though. She sat up and watched the scene play out.

The bastard was married. I gave him my heart, but all he wanted was my money.

In a flash, she was next to Jean. They watched Bill walk towards the car, and then joined him. There was more room in the back of the Alfa Romeo, not that they needed it. Jean sat next to Bill in the front, Sofia sat in the back.

Bill was about to have the ride of his life!alfa-romeo-guilia-6.jpg