The Ghosts are almost ready!

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Ghosts on the Sand is almost ready to publish. Its been in the works for four years because its hard to be a part-time author. Do you like the book cover? I love it and I hope it’s the first of many from Kara Boulden! This book is a collection of four stories.

Ghosts on the Sand is the first story in my new collection. It’s about a young girl (Sheila)  and her mother on holiday in Blackpool. They’re spending time together to heal after escaping a violent, angry man, Sheila’s dad. Things don’t work out quite as planned.
I Love you Neil is a super short story about two brothers. Can’t reveal anymore or I’d spoil the plot.
Guy at the Bar is actually the first story I wrote (in my adult years anyway), and is based on an experience I had in the King William IV pub in Brompton on Swale. I have fond memories of this pub, but this isn’t one of them. It’s a story about a nasty drunk who had no respect for women. (There is a bit of a twist of course)
Camera starts on the road from Richmond to Brompton on Swale (near the turn off to Easby Abbey). A broken down car and a camera swinging on the fence. What could go wrong? You’d be surprised. One of my hobbies is photography, but I hope I never come across a camera like this one.

I really want you to enjoy these stories, and review them on Amazon for me. I’m and “old gal” but I feel my writing career has just begun.

Thank you!

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Old Tarts and Blackpool Rock

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Sonia’s eyes almost popped out of her head. She cut me off mid-sentence and in a high-pitched voice that hurt my ears, she yelled,

“Your mam was in Blackpool with her fancy man, and you were there, too. Your mam is nothing but an old tart!”

Although I was only seven, I knew exactly what an old tart was.

Gripping my brown leather satchel tightly, I used all my strength, and swung it toward her. It was heavy with my reading books and the remaining sticks of Blackpool rock, and it flew through the air like a missile, whacking the side of her face. My anger gave me strength I didn’t know I had, and when it made contact with her head, her eyes rolled back and she sank to the ground, where she lay like a beached whale.

Yes, I write about ghosts and haunting, but I am who I am and every story has a little “ME” in it. That means there is a lot of truth and a little humor. Hope you enjoyed this small excerpt from Ghosts on the Sand, a story about a young girl who sees ghost and has unwelcome premonitions. 

Watch out for “Ghosts on the Sand and other chilling tales” coming out soon on Amazon. 

Strangled!

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Sofia and Jean rested on the bed with Bill between them. He drifted into a guilt free sleep and dreamed of women, money and sex. It was his life, all he thought about. Sofia caressed his upper thigh and watched him grow. Jean breathed into his ear. He smiled in his sleep. In his dream his was back in the hotel, straddled by his now dead mistress, enjoying her attention, her body, her money. His dream felt real.

“Room Service!”
The door opened and his dead wife stood there, naked, pale, beautiful. Jean had been a good-looking woman. He beckoned her. She joined Sophia on the bed. Bill watched them kiss and caress each over. Two naked beautiful naked women. Overcome by lust, he pulled them down beside him.
“Shhh, wait, don’t rush it.”
Sophia opened the drawer where the pendant lay, the gift he’d chosen to lure his next mistress. She slipped it over her head it sat between her perfect breasts as she mounted him again. Bill closed his eyes and drifted into ecstasy, the like of which he’d never experienced before…nor would again.

When Bill didn’t show up for work his colleges assumed he was grieving. Jean’s parents were lost in their own grief and days slipped by. Days turned into weeks.

Three weeks after the hotel fire a young police detective called Maria, knocked on the front door of Bill’s home. When there was no answer, she assumed he was at work. As she turned to leave a neighbor approached.
“I think he’s home, I saw him come back on the day of the funeral. I haven’t seen him leave.”
“The funeral was two weeks ago wasn’t it?”
Maria knocked again. The house was silent.
“He was driving a different car, fancy Italian, my husband said it was an Alfa Romeo.”
“Was he alone?” Maria asked
“I think so, but there was a lot of noise in his house that night,” she lowered her eyes, “It came from his bedroom.”
“What sort of noise.”
The neighbor’s face turned bright red, “You know, bedroom noise. Not the sort of noise you wouldn’t expect to hear after a funeral. I never liked him. I saw him once, in a restaurant, a woman draped all over him. It wasn’t Jean! I have a key if you want to go inside. Jean gave it to me so I could water the plants when they were away. Sweet heart she was. Can’t understand why she’d take her own life.”

Maria waited while the nosy, but helpful neighbor to fetch the key. Something wasn’t right. It wouldn’t hurt to take a peek inside.
The smell hit them as soon as Maria opened the front door. Lou, the neighbor took a couple of steps back. “Oh my!”
“Stay here,” Maria hissed. She walked quickly through the clean, tidy house and then returned to the front door to get a mouthful of fresh air. Slowly she walked up the stairs. The first door on the landing stood ajar. Maria didn’t make it past the doorway.

The bedroom was warm and steamy, as though someone had just stepped out of the shower. The stench of decay was overwhelming. The naked corpse lay tied to the bed, eyes bulging in terror. Expensive jewelry adorned the dead man’s purple bruised neck. He’d been strangled.

Something moved in the bathroom. Did Maria hear a voice? Did someone moan in pleasure? Was that the sound of gentle laughter?

She fled downstairs, and called for backup.

Two spirits hovered in the bedroom for a little while, and faded into the atmosphere. Their work was done.

Greed and Lust!

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The garage door took an eternity to open.
Bill sat in the car tapping his fingers on the steering wheel impatiently.
“Finally!”
He pulled into the garage and closed the door. He stood beside the beautiful Alfa Romeo and admired it for a few seconds. It was a beautiful machine.
He’d get a cab back to the hotel and pick up the Audi later, after things had died down. He didn’t want to answer anymore questions. He hadn’t done anything wrong, but the fire had started in his room. Sofia had arranged the candles around the bed, if anyone were to blame, it was her.
“You can’t arrest a dead woman.” he said out loud, then he smiled.
Sofia and Jean looked at each other. They weren’t smiling at all.
Bill still wore the hotel robe, its deep pockets bulging with Sofia’s jewelry. He laid the exquisite pieces on table by the bed. Beautiful, she loved rubies and diamonds. They glittered in the early evening sunlight. Selecting a simple ruby pendant on a gold chain, he held it up to the light.
“I’ll sell the rest, but keep this one for my next mistress!” He said out loud. “Something to make her feel special.”
I’ll find another rich vulnerable woman. Someone starved of love, and sex, someone I can play with for a while. Maybe this time I’ll marry her, secure my fortune and never have to work again.
Sophia and Jean heard his thoughts.
Bill placed the necklace safely in Jean’s underwear drawer and chuckled to himself.
“Buried my ex-wife today, and amassed a little money from my mistress! Not a bad days work.”
He turned on the shower and dropped his robe at his feet. He admired himself in the mirror. The radio burst into life.
You’re so vain, I bet you think this song is about you!
Startled, Bill turned around.
“What the hell! Hello, who’s there?”
Silence.
He turned back.
Two shapes stood in the shower.
Holding his breath he rubbed his eyes.
The radio went silent.
Screw the shower, I need to rest!
Bill closed the drapes and crawled under the covers of king size bed, the one he used to share with Jean. The one he’d shared with Sofia when Jean was away. He smiled as he anticipated sharing it with his next conquest.
He wouldn’t be smiling for long!

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

Red Hot!

 

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As they approached the hotel Jean’s anger flared. Her aura was red-hot. She felt it and worried that Bill would see her. He glanced in his rear-view mirror, a confused look on his face, as if something were wrong. Tugging at his tie, he loosened it and undid the top button of his shirt.
Perspiration prickled his face.
Jean smiled. He couldn’t see her, but she knew he felt her. The sweet little Catholic girl was going to release a world of pain on this man.
Bill wiped his brow with the sleeve of his jacket and switched on the AC.
With one glance Jean switched it off again.
Bill punched the button again, she left it on for thirty seconds, and then smiled and switched it off.
“Goddamn fucking AC, maybe I should have gotten the BMW after all”
Jean smiled and switched on the heating. Her aura calmed, she was no longer red-hot, but Bill was!
Driving erratically, he ran a red light, almost hitting two pedestrians.
“Shit, shit, SHIT!”
He slowed down a little.
“The last thing I need right now is another death!”
Then he smiled and relaxed a little. Jean hadn’t been rich, but they had a house together with at least $200,000 in equity. Jean’s parents had given them a chunk of money as a wedding present. Then there was the jewelry! He’d make a tidy sum when he sold that. He opened the car windows and breathed deeply. In the back of the car, Jean’s aura was red again. She could hear his thoughts. Closing her eyes she resisted the urge to kill him. She moved effortlessly into the passenger seat and remembered how she’d loved sitting next to him in the car. He’d slip his hand onto her knee and stroke her inner thigh while the drove. She shivered as she remembered…but the moment soon passed!
How long did it take for you to tire of me Bill? Did you ever really love me?
Bill pulled into the hotel parking lot. His head was full of his mistress, and her money. Parking the car, he walked quickly into the hotel lobby and climbed the stairs two at a time. Anticipating the rest of the afternoon, Bill was already aroused. Money and sex did that to him. He opened the door. The drapes were closed and scented candles burned. The room smelled of roses, and expensive perfume. Bill was right about the champagne, but wrong about her skimpy expensive attire.

Sofia was naked!

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.

Brompton-on-Swale

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I’d planned to have this book released by Christmas 2017. I know, it didn’t happen. I love writing so much I don’t have time to publish, and I certainly can’t afford a publisher. Oh well, when it eventually does get released later this year it’s going to be a bargain book for those of you who love England, especially the north-east. The stories packed into this book include;

Ghosts on the Sand (set in Blackpool)
Guy at the Bar (set in Brompton-on-Swale and Richmond)
Camera (set in Brompton-on-Swale and Richmond)
The Engineer (set in a fictitious village in County Durham)

Why are most of my stories set in the North East? Because it’s the best part of England. Northerners are genuine, down to earth and fun!

I was born in Bishop Aukland, lived in Shildon until I was 4 years old. I then fled with my mam to Etherly and Butterknowle to escape my violent dad. Mam finally found a job and house in Summerhouse, county Durham, where we lived until 1967. When she remarried we moved to Brompton-on-Swale, the village that shaped my life. Even though I live in the United States now (well until I retire to Italy), Brompton-on-Swale is on my mind a great deal. I wish I could become a famous writer. If I did I’d make sure to let everyone know where I came from. I’d tell them about that down to earth little village, where everyone knew everyone else and looked out for their neighbors. Many folks were born there and never moved away. They are the lucky ones. My wandering spirit won’t let me stay in one place too long. I pop back every now and again. Yes, it’s changed, but I still think of it as home.

Eventually

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Monica stomped along the road in her expensive Italian boots. The evening hadn’t turned out as she planned.
“It’s New Years Eve and I was supposed to be enjoying myself with James. Dinner, Dancing and then…”
Things catch up with you eventually
She stopped and turned around “Who said that?”
Silence, nothing moved. “God I’m talking to myself AND hearing things. Someone is going to pay for this.”
Someone always pays eventually
“OK, not funny. I know you’re out there. Did James’s wife put you up to this? He was going to leave her anyway, nothing to do with me. He told me the marriage was over. He’d be with someone else if it wasn’t me.”

The frigid night air was still and silent. “Where the hell am I?” Nothing along the dark misty lane looked familiar.

Monica had been at the Royal Charles hotel, waiting in reception for James, her lover. A handsome and very rich business man who’d made his money in the fashion world, backing and funding new designers. She’d been seeing him for almost six months. Her goal was to entice away from his shrew of a wife and snotty nosed kids by the end of the year. It seemed to be working until tonight. Monica waited for him for over an hour. He wasn’t answering his phone so she decided to just check into the room and wait for him there.

“I’m sorry, but there must be some mistake, there isn’t a reservation under that name.”
“Alright, I’d like to reserve a room now please.” Monica said, trying not to be annoyed.
The receptionist didn’t even bother to check availability. She just shook her head. “We’ve been fully booked for months. New Years Eve is popular here. I’m sorry.”
“I’m in the middle of nowhere, what am I supposed to do?”
“If you drive down to the main road, and then head towards town, there’s a B&B on the right, just before the farm. It’s called the Charles Inn, sometimes people get the two places mixed up. Maybe your reservation is.”
“Seriously? A B&B? I highly doubt it. I didn’t drive, I took a taxi!”
The receptionist looked nervous, she didn’t want a scene on New Years Eve while dinner guests arrived. “Let me call you a taxi now.” She frowned as she dialed different cab firms.
“I can’t get anyone here until 8:30” She said apologetically.
Monica looked at her watch. “What, it’s only six o clock!”
“You could always sit in our lounge and enjoy a cocktail while you wait.”
“I don’t drink alone,” she snarled.

Monica picked up her Gucci overnight bag and headed out into the darkness. A five-minute brisk walk put her in on a narrow dark. The only thing that moved in the darkness was a damp luminous mist!

“I wish I’d had that drink now.” She said softly to herself. There was no sign of civilization along the dark country road, but Monica kept walking, what choice did she have. Taking her cell phone out of her pocket, she tried to call James again. “No signal, great!”
She saw headlights approaching and hoped it was him. No luck, the approaching car was battered red Nissan. James drove a silver Maserati. In the distance Monica saw lights, they were smudged by the mist, but she could make out a large dimly lit building. “At last, maybe this is the B&B, if it has a bar I’m going inside. To hell with everything, a drink or two would be wonderful.”

She paused for a moment when she reached the gate. There was nothing indicating this was a B&B. Music and laughter floated temptingly from the open door. Live jazz, lazy, lovely and full of promise. She was mesmerized!

“Sounds like a classy place, maybe I’ll spend the night.”
She took a compact from her purse and re-applied her lipstick. “This face needs a man to appreciate it, a man with deep pockets. I was bored with James anyway.”
Monica took a deep breath, puffed out her chest, opened her coat to show her perfect (implanted) breasts and walked to the front door.
The scene in front of her was warm, exciting, and full of promise.