Ghost of a Chance

 

 

 

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Guy at the Bar Amazon Guy at the Bar Amazon UK

 

 

 

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My three books!

I attended a two-day Author conference this weekend. It was ABSOLUTELY BRILLIANT! It was also very exhausting with so much information I thought my head my explode. I learned so much from brilliant people like Guy Kawasaki, Penny Sansevieri, Joan Stewart and many other seasoned writers and social media experts.

There are many things I have taken away from this experience and one of them is to write for the ‘RIGHT REASONS’.

Many writers make huge amounts of money, but there is only a ‘Ghost of a Chance’ of that happening to me. In fact I will be lucky to break even after publishing my books, but it doesn’t matter because the reason I write is to enrich people’s lives.

I am not a great philosopher, and you won’t learn anything from my books, but they may help you escape to another world for a while. They will entertain you and that in itself is an achievement.

My first novel ‘Dead of July’ will be released later this year, hopefully in September Preview Dead of July. I know you will enjoy reading it.

My first short story, ‘Guy at the Bar’ is currently in re-hab and will be re-released in November.

My second book ‘Girl on the Beach’ is still available, but not for long. As I continue along the path as a writer, I have become a perfectionist and my first two books weren’t quite perfect. When they are re-released, the will be.

OVER FIFTY THOUSAND COPIES ‘GIRL ON THE BEACH HAVE ALREADY BEEN DOWNLOADED

Fourth of July 1982

Do you remember what you were doing on July 4th 1982?

4th Space Shuttle Mission-Columbia 4 lands at Edwards AFB
96th Wimbledon Mens Tennis: J Connors beats J McEnroe (36 63 67 76 64)

We watched ET, and loved it.

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We all loved Michael Jackson

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The FIFA World Cup was played in Barcelona.

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A young British Army wife called Sheila, met a badly beaten German girl in a park, and saves her life.

Dead of July will be released in July 2013. Watch out for it.

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Preview Dead of July

I KILLED HIM!

I am remembering the very first story I ever wrote. I was thirteen and a troubled teen (aren’t all teens troubled from time to time). This story was written with big loopy writing scrawling across the pages, no computers in the late sixties. As the story got more and more exciting, my pen raced across the pages, my hand hurt, but I continued. eager to get the pain and hurt festering inside me, onto paper. It was a kind of exorcism. It worked too.

What was that story about?

Me!

I had a crush on boy who was of course very handsome, about five years older than me and completely out of my league. He didn’t know I even existed. Can you remember your early teens, and what that was like? It hurt didn’t it. When hormones took over your body, nothing or no one made sense. I don’t know how teenagers even survive, so difficult are those days. Writing was the only thing that got me through it. What was the story about……? You could say it was a train wreck.

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When I look back on what I wrote, I realised I was writing this boy out of my life because I knew he would never even notice me. He was an exotic handsome looking creature, always surrounded by pretty girls. He didn’t even know my name and would never have time for anyone as average and ordinary as me, so I killed him with my pen.

In my story we were an item and very much in love. He lived in London and I lived in the far north of England. I would go and visit him every weekend. He was a musician and I was a journalist. As I write about it now I remember it vividly. Lets call him Matt for the sake of giving him a name.

Matt and I were on the London tube with a group of friends, on our way to a party. Suddenly our carriage shuddered and we heard the wheels screaming on the track as the brakes vainly tried to stop the speeding train.  There was an explosion and we were throw around like matchsticks.  We felt the impact as the train crashed head on into something, crushing the first carriage and mangling several more. I thought I was going to die as the carriages ahead of me seemed to be rushing backwards. Matt was in front of me. He put his arms around me and I waited to die. Next came the fire and smoke, then nothing. Was I dead?

I opened my eyes expecting to see the devil and the fires of hell (never expecting to go to heaven because I had dabbled with pot and LSD), but instead I saw the grimy face of my friend Julie looking down at me. I was lying on the platform surrounded by casualties. People were crying and moaning. The air we breathed was filled with smoke. I raised my head to look at the train, or what was left of it. “Where’s Matt? Is he okay?” I said to Julie. She didn’t answer me, but looked away. She was crying. I pushed myself up on my elbows weakly, my head spinning, trying to breathe oxygen and not smoke. A fireman came over to check on me. “Be still, you have had a nasty shock, and a lump on the back of your head. We will get you out as soon as possible”

“Matt, Matt Matt where are you? Julie where is he?” I managed to get to my feet. “Matt, Matt, can you hear me?” I collapsed into the arms of the fireman, who placed me gently back down on the ground, putting something under my head to make me more comfortable. I felt a prick in my arm. People faded in and out of my vision, voices came and went. At last I saw Matt leaning over me. He kissed me gently on my forehead. “It’s going to be alright” he said. “Look after the baby” Then he was gone.

When I opened my eyes again I was in a hospital bed. My head and back hurt badly. Julie was sitting next to me again, looking a little cleaner now. Sun shone through the windows. “How long have I been out?” I asked.

“About ten hours” she replied, smiling weakly. “They gave you something to calm you down. Do you remember anything?”                                                                        

“Not much. Is Matt here? I remember seeing Matt, thank god he’s okay.” Julie took my hand and started crying “Matt didn’t make it. He was killed instantly when he threw himself in front of you. He saved your life.”

“No, I saw him. He kissed me and spoke to me, I SAW HIM.”

The doctor, probably alarmed my cries, came into the room. “Shhh, calm down. Don’t upset yourself. Your parents just called, they are on their way, they will be able to take you home in a couple of days. You will feel better soon, you have to think of the baby now.”

“Baby?” I said.

The doctor looked a me puzzled. “You didn’t know? You are almost three months pregnant.”

Then I remembered what Matt said “It’s going to be alright, look after the baby.”

Yes, that is what I remember of my very first story. I wrote about three hundred pages, all in long hand. It was my therapy and got me over my crush, preserving my sanity and allowing me to get on with my life. Seems a fairly healthy way of doing things to me. Better than drugs, or getting into trouble. I wish someone had encouraged me to continue with my writing, but they didn’t. Now, over thirty years later, I am writing again.

‘Dead of July’ my first full length novel will be released in July  Preview Dead of July

My first short story, rough around the edges, but still a fun short read is still available from the links below:

If you want to keep up with my exploits, adventures and updates Follow me on Facebook and like my page. If nothing else, it will make me feel famous.

Thanks for stopping by.

A Girl Abroad – Germany 1982

In 1982, when I was 25, I moved to Dortmund , West Germany with my husband. He was a British Soldier in the Royal Army Pay Corps and was attached to the Royal Highland Gunners (19 Field Regiment) stationed in Ubique Barracks.

It was a great adventure for me. After staying with friends for a few weeks, we managed to find an apartment in an area called Borsigplatz. I loved that area, it reminded me of Italy, probably because of the amount of Italians who favored it too. When we first moved I didn’t have a job, and spent long days wandering aroung the streets, shopping, taking photos and learning the German language from the locals. I was a born traveller and living in a Foreign country was like a dream come true.

Borzigplatz

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This is Borsigplatz, a large round-a-bout where six roads met. One of the roads was called Osterholtzstrasse. The trams ran along Osterholzstrasse and right past RobertStrasse, the street on which I lived. They were happy days, I was young and full of hope. 1982 was a good year, made even better by the World Cup which was played in Barcelona. The World Cup final was between Italy and West Germany. What a battle that was! I have wonderful memories of that game, along with the parties afterwards.

Why am I telling you about this? Because it is what inspired me to write ‘Dead of July’, my first full length novel, which will be released in July of this year (2013). It is thirty-one years since I lived in Germany, but the memories are still with me. I hope you enjoy my story. Preview Dead of July

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I have written a couple of short stories, one of which is currently being edited. ‘Girl on the Beach’ is still available for $0.99 from the links below. It is a little rough around the edges, but it has received some great reviews. It is a simple story about a little girl who has a premonition. It is set in Blackpool in the early sixties. Give it a try.

I am very excited about the upcoming release of ‘Dead of July’. Follow my blog and my Facebook page for release details.

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I also have another blog TRAVEL TALES AND MISHAPS which was originally about travel, but now is about life in general.