Mr. Mercedes – Stephen King

Anyone who follows my blogs knows I am a HUGE Stephen King fan. I’ve read all of his books (some twice), and attended his book launch for Dr. Sleep in Boulder last year. It was an entertaining evening as he talked about his experiences as a writer, and read from his new book for us. He is a humble, down to earth and entertaining character. Dr. Sleep was a fantastic book and a great sequel to The Shining. Mr. Mercedes is another huge victory for Stephen King. The chapters are short, but gripping. I usually read in bed, and this book is robbing me of sleep. When I finish a chapter I say okay, I’ll read just one more, but one more becomes several more. Great book. His writing style changes a little in this book, but it works.

In my opinion Stephen King is a true master of writing. I read a great deal, but no one pulls me into a story the way he does. He could write about anything, but horror is his calling. The day he stops publishing will be a sad day for me.

220px-Mrmercedes

 

In a million years I will never achieve Stephen King’s mastery of writing, but I will continue to try. My first novel Dead of July is currently available on Amazon.

http://amzn.to/1aXh4Md

Dead of July by Sandra Thompson

More than just words!

CHAPTER ONE

Anna  

The weather in Dortmund that July was hotter than hell. We lived in an apartment on the outskirts of the city―when I say “we” I mean my husband Les and I. Les was a British soldier, who in 1982, was stationed in West Germany. We loved our home there, which sprawled across the top floor of a big, old building, but it had no air conditioning. On Sunday, July 4th, the temperature soared into the mid nineties. Heat rises of course, and by mid- afternoon it was almost unbearable. The living room window, set into the sloping roof, opened to the sky and offered no relief. A slight breeze wafted through, but it was hot and filled with little particles of silver shimmering in the sunlight, courtesy of a huge chemical plant close by.

In an effort to soak up the sun, I perched precariously on the window ledge, my legs dangling below me. The street by our apartment was almost deserted. The odd pedestrian that passed by and saw me on that scorching Sunday afternoon was either amused or horrified by my precarious position, as I sat half in and half out of the third floor attic window.  One or two laughed and waved, others yelled up at me with alarmed voices, perhaps thinking I was about to jump to my death.

Union Jack Recon Flag[1]

Dead of July (Small)

When I sent the edited copy of my finished manuscript to my publishing company, it was just pages and pages of words. They were exciting, well written words, but now they are so much more. My words have come to life in  a beautifully laid out book. Can’t wait to share it with you.

 

 

Ghosts and Gangsters – Almost there

The weather in Dortmund was hotter than hell. I lived in an apartment on the outskirts of the city with my husband Les, a British soldier with the Royal Army Pay Corps. We loved our home, which sprawled across the top floor of a big old building, but it had no air conditioning. Heat rises of course and by mid afternoon it was unbearable. The living room window set into the sloping roof opened to the sky and offered no relief. It allowed a slight breeze to waft through, but it was hot and filled with little particles of silver shimmering in the sunlight, courtesy of a huge chemical plant close by. In an effort to soak up the sun, I perched on the window ledge, my legs dangling below me.

 

It was quiet, as I’m sure most people stayed indoors, where it was cooler. Those brave souls who passed by and saw me on that scorching Sunday afternoon were either amused or horrified by my precarious position, as I sat half in and half out of the third floor attic window.  One or two laughed and waved, others yelled up at me with alarmed voices, perhaps thinking I was about to jump to my death.

Dead of July (Small)[4] Color 1

 

 

Yes, my book is almost done.

I have labored for three years over this one, but it was a labor of love. I had an absolute blast whilst writing it.

Watch out for Dead of July which will be released in the fall.

Germans, an Evil Russian and the British Army

dead-of-july-small4-color-13.jpgIt took me over a year to write my novel ‘Dead of July’. I have postponed the release date three times. Why? Because I want to make sure the ending is as good as the story.

How many times have you read a good book, only to be disappointed at the ending?

What is my book about? Evil Russians, Germans, British Soldiers, the 1982 FIFA World Cup Final, and the adventures of a young British Army wife living in Dortmund, Germany.

“You are going to pay for what you did,” he said with a heavy, guttural accent. “You will never be rid of me.” His fingers crawled around to the back of my head, pulling me toward him. I was too terrified to move. He leaned forward through the window so our faces were touching and kissed me roughly on the lips, biting me as he did so. The smell of his stale breath made me want to vomit and I jerked my head away from him

I hope this leaves you hungry for more.

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TO BE RELEASED LATER THIS YEAR

Russians, Germans and the odd British Squaddie

dead-of-july-small4-color-13.jpgIt took me over a year to write my novel ‘Dead of July’. I have postponed the release date three times. Why? Because I want to make sure the ending is as good as the story.

How many times have you read a book and loved every word, but been disappointed by the way it ended? I am not saying my ending is weak, but if it is, I am sure my editor will tell me. She is almost there.

What is my book about? Evil Russians, Germans, British Soldiers, the 1982 FIFA World Cup Final, and the adventures of a young British Army wife living in Dortmund, Germany.

Below is a snippet for your reading pleasure.

“You are going to pay for what you did,” he said with a heavy, guttural accent. “You will never be rid of me.” His fingers crawled around to the back of my head, pulling me toward him. I was too terrified to move. He leaned forward through the window so our faces were touching and kissed me roughly on the lips, biting me as he did so. The smell of his stale breath made me want to vomit and I jerked my head away from him.

This must surely be Viktor. This man was evil, pure evil. I threw the car into reverse in a desperate attempt to escape. He moved too quickly for me and stood behind the car, smirking at me through the back window. My hand trembled as I shifted into first, but before I could pull away, he appeared in front of me again. How could he move so fast? 

DEAD OF JULY

TO BE RELEASED JULY 2013

I hope this leaves you hungry for more.

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Disaster and calamity plus a trip to Germany

It has been one of those days. My server died (blocking access to my novels) and my patio door started pouring in rain. Of course I am here alone. This type of thing NEVER happens when my husband is home. 

It may be risky attempting to blog, but what do I have to lose? 

I am simply going to share a few lines of ‘Dead of July’, my upcoming novel. What can go wrong? Although my book is a paranormal thriller, there are one or two amusing moments in it. This is one of them. If you were around for the 1982 World Cup you will appreciate this.

The Royal Highland Gunners

Les was in the bar, watching the game with his Scottish friends and fellow soldiers. Les and his friend, Graham, hoped that Brazil would beat Scotland and go through to the finals. Brazil had talent and style, not to mention some of the best players in the world. Cheering for Brazil and not the Scottish team in the company of a crowd of drunken Scotsmen was not a good idea. Les and Graham learned that the hard way.

The highlight of the night occurred when they cheered after Oscar scored the second goal for Brazil. I never heard the offensive “cheer” because I was chatting and giggling with the ladies. We had no idea why Les and Graham sprinted past us as though running for their lives. All we knew was a dozen or so drunken Scotsmen, who were as mad as hell because someone had the NERVE to cheer when Brazil had scored a Goal against Scotland, were following them at great speed.

The words coming out of the mouths of the members of the angry mob were indistinguishable and guttural grunts rather than the English (or should I say Scottish?) language. To myself and the other ladies watching these antics, it was hysterical. We laughed, wondering what would happen next. The angry mob returned a couple of minutes later, red-faced and a little disheveled, and went back to the bar. They would probably have chased the two disrespectful black men for much longer, but watching the rest of the game was more important. Les and Graham crept sheepishly back into the room a couple of minutes later.

We heard more good-natured Scottish threats about what would happen if they “did no keep their mouths shut,” but the rest of the night passed without incident. Les was very gracious when Brazil won 4-1. He didn’t gloat until we got into our little car and drove home. “I really thought they were going to hurt me,” he said and we both laughed. A drunken Scotsman could be a dangerous thing, especially when it involved football.

“It’s a good thing you’re so tall,” I told him, “or you may have been the recipient of one of their famous ‘Glasgow handshakes’” For those of you who don’t know, a Glasgow handshake is when someone head butts you.

I started my writing career with two short stories, which are still available on Amazon. Once ‘Dead of July’ is published, I will take these stories down and re-edit them. Yes, I can spot the mistakes. I would make a much better job of writing them now, but they kick started my career and for that I am grateful.

Girl on the Beach (UK)

Girl on the Beach (US)

Guy at the Bar Amazon

Guy at the Bar Amazon UK

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When I say this book will ‘knock your socks off’ I really mean it.

Dead of July – an overview

Dead of July – A German Ghost Story – 1982 – Dortmund

First Novel

It’s time to settle down and finish my novel. I am on my second edit. There isn’t much that needs changing, but editing it twice is helping me put together the perfect ending. Endings are hard and I have read many books by renowned authors that have weak endings. My novel is not going to follow that path (I hope). If it takes two more years to finish so be it because I don’t want to disappoint you.

World Cup 1982

My novel, set in Germany in 1982, is about an ‘army wife’ who got herself mixed up in something that turned deadly. I don’t want to give too many details away, but it involves World Cup Football (soccer if you are an American) and Evil Russians as well as all the other characters you would expect to find on a British Army Camp in Germany. I want this novel to make you laugh and cry as well as hold your breath.

I am not sure when my novel will be finished, but hopefully later this year or early 2012. Good things take time.

I will update my website page, as well as my blog and Facebook page, with snippets of my novel. I will also post photos of the area in which it is set. This may require a trip to Germany! What a wonderful idea!

My first two book were published earlier this year. They are short stories about a girl trying to come to terms with premonitions and visitations she could not control. You can download ‘Girl on the Beach’ for free from Girl on the Beach (US) . ‘Guy at the Bar’ is available from Guy at the Bar Amazon for $0.99.  Amazon UK charges around eighty-six pence for these books. Hard copies can be purchased from by website Words from beyond.  Happy Reading!

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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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.