Free Treat for Halloween!

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Ghosts on the Sand 

Special Offer on October 30th and 31st only.
Free for Halloween!
Mark your calendar and click the link above to get your Copy.

As a part-time independent writer, I don’t have the time (or money) for huge advertising campaigns. My day job keeps me busy and pays the bills. What I want to do more than anything else, is have people read, and hopefully enjoy my stories. I’m an old girl now and get tired a little more quickly than I used to, but I still write at every opportunity. For two days only, my latest stories will be free on Amazon. If you enjoy reading Ghosts on the Sand, please take the time to give me a review. I’d really appreciate it.

HAPPY HALLOWEEN

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Breaking Through!

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I’d almost given up on myself. I love to write, been doing it since I started High School. I wrote when I was unhappy. I wrote when I was happy. So much in my head! I’ve only published one novel I’m proud to admit is mine. It’s never going to be on the best seller list, but I’m not ashamed of it. It was my introduction to publishing.

Dead of July – Amazon

I have three more stories finished and ready to put into a compilation, “Ghosts on the Sand and other Chilling Tales”. Whats holding me up? My last story “The Engineer”. This story started with nothing but a title floating around in my head. At first it was set in Northern Italy, but it moved across Europe to North Yorkshire, before getting lost in my brain. The Engineer is back now, struggling to be free,  hammering at my temples, scratching the back of my eyeballs, fighting his way out. I need to get his story finished before he finishes me. I’ve heard he drinks blood!

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Wild Garlic

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“Roberto is that wild garlic?” Mum asked, looking at the white pungent bunch of flowers he held.

“Yes, Phoebe, it is, I picked them along the path by the river on the way here.”

He turned around to look directly at me menacingly.

“I hear it keeps vampires away!”

He smiled at me hungrily licking his lips, which were no longer dark against his perfect milky skin, but blood red. I knew it was my blood he wanted, not my mum’s. Terrified I fled the living room and slammed the door to the stairs; I shut my bedroom door too. My so-called Uncle wanted to hypnotize me. He wanted drink my blood.

I knew Garlic wasn’t going to protect me.

Stuff Nightmares Are Made of

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Norah gasped and sat up! The pack of wild dogs stopped chasing her. She was safe in her own bed. It had all been a bad dream, but it was over. Lacie lay on the chaise under the window fast asleep.
Thank god! That was some nightmare.
The digital clock on the bedside table said 7:15. Time to get up and make some coffee.
I love Sundays.
She swung her legs off the bed and headed for the bathroom.
“Come on Lacie, rise and shine, time for breakfast.”
Lacie didn’t move.
Norah put some toothpaste on the Sonicare and walked over to her sleeping dog as she brushed her teeth.
“Come on lazy bones.”
Lacie felt cold and stiff. Something was wrong. Her dog stood up slowly, clumsily, as though drugged, she looked at Norah, a thread of blood and saliva dribbled from the corner of her mouth as she tried to growl.
Dropping her toothbrush Norah stared at her dog, then turned and ran.
“John, come quickly, there’s something wrong. I think Lacie’s sick, she may have rabies. JOHN!”
Her husband sat on the sofa with his back to her. He was wearing headphones and watching soccer on the television. He did that sometimes on a Sunday morning, so as not to disturb her, the European games were early. She ran in front of the television to get his attention. Then she froze.
Oh dear lord help me. Am I still having a nightmare. Wake up, please let me wake up.
Her husband stood up and smiled at her. It was a one-sided smile. The left side of his faces was missing. She saw movement over his shoulder. Janine, the teenager from next door limped clumsily out of the kitchen. She was naked from the waist up, her skin was torn and decaying. The once beautiful young girl looked at Norah and licked her lips. Then she hissed and stumbled towards her, arms outstretched. Norah willed herself to wake up, but this wasn’t a nightmare. She took a step backwards, but there was nowhere to go, she backed into the television. John took a step towards her. Norah turned to run, but pain pierced her ankle. Lacie sunk her teeth into Norah’s foot and pulled a chunk of flesh away. The noise was sickening.
Make the most of it Lacie, it’s the last breakfast you get from me!
Norah was thankful when her brain fogged into darkness. She’d had enough!

I hope you enjoy my short horror stories. Sometimes I have to empty my brain before I go back to my real writing. “Ghosts on the Sand” is a compilation of short stories, and I will be releasing it later this year. There are no zombies or vampires in this book, but it is a collection of chilling tales that I think you’ll enjoy. Watch out for it on Amazon. 

Dead Eyes Open

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When Norah opened her eyes there was no sign of her precious pup. She tried to call her name, but her mouth wouldn’t work. She pushed herself into a sitting position and immediately felt nauseous.
Lacie? Where are you?
Blue light still spilled through a gap in the curtains from her house, but other than that, she was surrounded by darkness. Thankfully the oppressive sickening buzz had disappeared. Norah lay still on the cold wet grass, praying her nausea would subside. Her head spun as though she were on a fairground ride.
What was that?
A nebulous light flitted just within her range of vision. She turned her head slightly to follow it and immediately threw up again.
I have to beat this, I just have to.
Above her the curtains opened. Her husband held their lifeless dog in his arms. He Chewed hungrily on its ear, blood dribbling down his chin. He looked down in the grass and saw Nora lying there, easy prey. Food to feed his hunger.

Norah looked up to the sky. The light had steadied now, hovering above her.
What the hell is that?
The dizziness eased and she stood up, unsteady on her feet, but she managed to remain upright.
“Lacie, Lacie, come on girl, where are you?”
With her back to the house, she looked into the darkness.
Why is it so dark? Where did you go Lacie, you could barely walk, where did you go?
She turned around and looked towards the house again. John stood in the window. He smiled and waved at her. Lacie was in his arms.
How did she get in the house? Has this all been a dream?
Norah hurried to the front door, which opened as she approached. John opened both arms to greet her, dropping the lifeless bundle of fur to the ground as he did so. Lacie bounced down the porch steps, blood dripping from her head where her ear should have been. Norah stopped in her tracks.
What the hell!
“John what’s wrong with you? Lacie!”
The furry lifeless bundle rested on the bottom step, eyes wide open. Norah picked her up. Sobbing she hugged her.
What happened to you Lacie. Was it a coyote? A rabid dog?
Norah looked up at her husband, hoping for answers. His lips were smeared with blood. He picked a dog hair from between his front teeth and lurched towards her.

TV Zombie

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Norah whispered softly to her pup as she carried her home.
“Please don’t die on me. You’re my baby, you got me through college, and law school. I need you.”
Lacie’s breathing was shallow, she no longer whimpered, and her little body was limp.
“Almost home baby, almost safe.”
Why aren’t the lights on along the driveway?
She thought of calling John again, but changed her mind. As she stepped onto the asphalt driveway, the lights came back on, dimly at first, slowly growing brighter.
Must have been a power cut.
Then lights became abnormally bright and one by one, as she passed them, the bulbs exploded. Holding Lacie close, she continued slowly towards the house.
Somethings wrong here, very wrong.
A strange blue light spilled from the open drapes in the living room window. She left the path and walked across the lawn to see what it was. Peering into her own house she saw the silhouette of her husband John. He was standing in front of the television, staring at a screen that showed nothing but blue static. Norah watched him for thirty seconds or more. He began to speak, but not in his normal voice. The words were monotone and in a language she’d never heard.
What the hell is going on here?
Her husband turned around and walked towards the window. Nora held
her breath.
Don’t let him see me!
Why was she suddenly afraid of her husband? His face was blank, expressionless.
Did he see me?
He closed the drapes, shutting her out. The static grew louder, it surrounded her. Norah became dizzy, she wanted to throw up.
I have to get Lacie to the vet.
A loud pulsing buzz erupted from Norah’s hom. It made the air feel heavy and oppresive.
Lacie whimpered weakly, spurring Norah to take action, but two steps were all she managed before her legs gave way. Norah’s brain switched off moments before her body made contact with the soft wet grass.

Lost Dog

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“Lacie, come on, Lacie. Here girl, where are you?”
Norah shouted in vain, there was no sign or sound of her puppy. She took out her cell phone.
“No signal, Damn”
Then she heard something, a slight rustling in the bushes ahead. “Lacie?”
A whimper.
“I’m coming!”
Nora ran forward, grazing her legs as she almost tripped over a tree stump. Then she stopped and listened.
Silence.
“Lacie?”
The moonlight cast a shadow, a long thin shadow. Thats not my dog!
Norah was nervous and prepared to turn and run, but the owner of the shadow appeared from behind a three. It was a young boy, he was hugging a small white dog close to his chest.
“Is this what you’re looking for?”
She ran forward and took the limp white bundle of fur into her arms, tears running down her cheeks. “Lacie, what happened?”
She buried her face in the familiar fuzzy mop of fur that was her beloved dog and smothered her with kisses. Lacie whimpered weakly, but didn’t move.
“What happened?” she asked the boy. There was no answer. When she looked up she was alone in the darkness.
“Come on pup, let’s get you home.”
Nora checked her cell phone again. She had a signal now and hit speed dial. After several rings she almost hung up, then she heard her husband’s voice. He sounded distant, distracted. Was someone there with him? No time to worry about that now.
“John, I’ve found Lacie, but she’s hurt.”
No response.
“John, did you hear me?”
The line went dead!

 

 

 

Happy New Year

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The party was in full swing and the bar was in front of her. Live music, dancing and chatter made the atmosphere intoxicating. She was pretty sure she’d be able to find a replacement for James. Monica didn’t see who took her coat, she barely felt it slide from her shoulders. Her eyes were fixed on the handsome young man with a cocktail shaker in his hand. He poured something orange and fruity into a champagne glass.
“Happy New Year,” he said as slid the champagne glass across the bar, “I made this for you.”
“Thank you, what is it?”
“Taste it, maybe I’ll name it after you if you like it.”
Monica found a stool and sat down, looking at her reflection in the mirror behind the bar as she did so. She adjusted her dress to show even more of her expensive cleavage.
“How do you like the cocktail. I can make you another if you like it.”
Monica took a sip. “Mmm, its heavenly.”
It really was, she’d never tasted anything like it before. It popped and fizzed in her mouth, a little like champagne, but better. She emptied the glass in no time.
The creator of the drink leaned towards her, so close she could feel his breath face.
“Whats your name sweet lady?”
“It’s Monica,” she whispered, “I’d love another drink.”
She watched him make the cocktail, his eyes were fixed on her the whole time, she liked the way he looked at her. He was handsome, somehow exotic. Oh I’m so glad I found this place, she thought. He slid the second drink across the counter, his fingers brushing the silk of her dress just below her nipples, as he released his grip on the glass. She shuddered with pleasure.
“Who’s party is this?” she asked.
“It’s mine.” he answered as he sat on the bar stool next to her. He saw the surprise on her face.
“What, did you thing I was the cocktail waiter?”
Monica took a sip of her drink, she was already feeling tipsy. The night had turned around, it was going to be the best New Years Eve ever.
“Lets dance.”
Monica emptied her glass, almost spilling it down her front when his hand rested on her knee and moved up her leg a little. Her whole body tingled with excitement. He slid off his chair. Monica looked for his reflection in the mirror, wanting to drink in his handsome face and body without being too obvious. That’s funny, he has no reflection, I must be really drunk. She felt his breath on her ear.
“Come, lets dance.”
He led her to the dance floor, his arm around her bare shoulders. The band played a slow song. He pulled her close.
“Whats your name?” Monica whispered, her voice husky with passion.
“Troy,”
Troy was built like a god. Their eyes met and she felt him look into her soul.
Can this be really happening? He’s gorgeous, and obviously rich if this is his party. I wonder if he’s married. Who cares anyway, I’m going to . make him mine. I can tell he likes me.
He pulled her closer, she could feel every move he made. Troy kissed her, the tip of his tongue finding its way into her mouth, she melted into his arms, moaning with pleasure. The music stopped, but they continued to dance. Slowly, barely moving! Troy looked into her eyes.
“I want you.” he said.
“Is there somewhere we can go?” she groaned.
“No, I’m going to take you here, right now.”
She felt his tongue in her ear, then he kissed her lips. He pushed her back and kissed her perfect breasts, his lips resting on her nipples. Her eyes were closed, ecstatic she gave himself to her.
“Don’t stop, please don’t stop,” she muttered.
His hand pressed on the small of her back, pushing her closer. He was kissing her neck, he moved her hair, so he could see her prefect white skin and the vein that throbbed beneath it. He was hungry.
“Oh, yes, I’m yours, don’t stop.”
He sunk his teeth deep until he found warm liquid. She didn’t struggle, just collapsed into his arms. He carried Monica to a huge oak table, still feasting on her blood.
A small group of hungry vampires surrounded him, his inner circle. Troy looked up, blood dripping from his chin.
“Come join me, there’ plenty to go around.”

The Engineer

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The Engineer lived just outside a small village in Lombardy, Northern Italy. He’d lived there all of his life. In fact, he’d lived there as long as anyone could remember. He never seemed to age.

“Dye’s his hair of course” my mum said.

“But he hasn’t aged, Phoebe, no wrinkles, no liver spots. He still looks the same as he did when I was a little girl”

Mum and Betsy sipped their tea silently. I was only seven and didn’t know the Engineer very well. He scared me a little bit. He was very nice enough, gave me sweets sometimes, but his eyes were dark and cold. His jet black hair and mustache showed no signs of grey. I guessed his height to be a little under six feet because he was a little shorter than my brother, and my brother was six foot two. Words weren’t his thing and he used them as little as possible. A tight smile was his only humorous expression, but the smile didn’t touch his eyes.

“Has he ever been married?” Betsy asked mum.

“Not that I know of, I think he dated once, for a year or so, but the she disappeared. Never saw her again.”

“Maybe its a good thing, not sure he’s make a good dad if kids came along. I wonder if he wears make-up. His eyebrows are perfect.”

“Could be gay! That would explain the marriage thing!”

A loud rapping on the door startled us all.

“Its him!” Mum said.

“Don’t be silly Phoebe. Why would he be knocking at your front door?”

“My boiler is playing up. Sometimes we have no hot water.”

“Did you call him” Betsy asked.

“No! I never call him, he just seems to know when something needs fixing.”

Mum’s voice was quiet, she sounded scared. Her hand shook slightly as she put her tea-cup down. “Betsy, come to the door with me.”

I watched as they opened the door. The engineer stood on the step, a tight-lipped smile on his face. He wore jeans, perfectly pressed with a crease down the front and a blue denim shirt. His fashionable shoes were highly polished. A draft blew in from behind him, or perhaps it came from him. I shivered.

“Good Morning Ladies, Phoebe I understand you have a faulty boiler.”