Shirley never finished her sentence.
The window just to the right of us exploded inwards. Splinters of glass flew towards us like tiny missiles. No time to move, we instinctively covered our heads with our hands and ducked. I felt tiny shards of glass hitting the back of my right hand, which was closest to the window. It only lasted a few seconds, but it seemed much longer. When I felt safe again I sat up Shirley’s head was on the table, she wasn’t moving.
The kitchen door burst open and Gay appeared. “Don’t move, I’ll call the medic’s.” Monica was right behind her, she looked at me “You okay?” she asked. “Yes, Shirley, are you alright?” Shirley lifted her head slowly, no blood on her face, her hands and hair had protected her head, but there was red mark on her forehead. She must have hit her head on the table.
She looked groggy. Her eyes wouldn’t focus!
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.
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.
I’ve been reading Stephen King as long as I can remember. From his very first story to his very last, and enjoyed ever single one. His last book, The Outsider, may have been my favorite. I say that and then I remember the Mr. Mercedes trilogy, and Dr. Sleep. Oh and then there are his novellas. His writing changed to suit the era, but I was drawn into every single book. When I read Stephen King I don’t open a book, I reconnect with old friends.
Why am I telling you this? Because I’ve been quiet for a while! My brain has been active though, and now, its ready to go. I’m writing for 1984, the era, the style, the times. My Dead of July sequel is progressing. You can’t rush, or force a good story. It needs to flow naturally. I want my readers to put it down, take a deep breath and think about me. I’m not Stephen King, I’m Sandra Thompson, but I want folks to remember what I’ve written, from Dead of July to….wherever it ends.
Stephen King, you had me at Carrie!
“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.
Glancing back at my car, I expected to see Viktor sitting in the passenger seat, an evil grin on his face, but there was nothing there. What I’d heard was most likely the ticking of the engine cooling down. Alfa Romeos ran hot, just like the Italians, and I drove it hard. There was nothing to see, but I felt a sudden chill, the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end.
“Come on, let’s get you inside, you’re shaking. You need a hot, sweet cup of tea.”
I barely heard Shirley’s words, but allowed her to lead me up the stairs to our office.
Yes, I’m writing again. This is the follow-up to Dead of July which I published back in 2013. You can only write when the time is right!!!
February and March of 1984 flew by. My body began to change and swell with pregnancy. It was uncomfortable, but exciting. Morning sickness visited me in the afternoon rather than the morning, which was fortunate because the only thing that seemed to soothe it was hot fresh bread. I craved it constantly. A British bakery food truck visited our area every couple of days, and I stood by the window every afternoon after work, waiting for it to arrive. I’d smell its delicious aroma before the truck arrived, and was usually down in the car park waiting for it. The bread van was driven by an ex-squaddie who decided to stay in Germany when his time with the British Army was done. I was glad he made that decision.
Two brothers, Yuri and Viktor. One dead, one in Jail. What happened to their evil unforgiving mother Marianna? Is she dead or alive?
Read Dead of July and see how she taunted me in Summer of 1982. Here intentions were obvious, she wanted me dead! I thought I was free of all of them, but in 1984, when I discovered I was pregnant Marianna and Victor returned to haunt me.
I’m working on Lingering Evil, the sequel to Dead of July
Lingering Evil takes up where Dead of July left off. It’s not over yet!
I saw Bohemian Rhapsody yesterday, it inspired my writing a little. I’m currently writing the sequel to “Dead of July”, already chose the ending “Lingering Evil”.
Lingering Evil starts in February of 1984, two years after my last book ended. Sheila still lives in Germany, but her life has been fun. No more encounters with Evil Russians’ dead, or alive, until she finds out she’s pregnant. Then things change a little.
Where does Bohemian Rhapsody come into this? Live Aid! I think the Live Aid concert in July 1985 is a good place to end this book!
Dead of July
Ghosts on the Sand
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!