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Showing posts with label Celeste. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Celeste. Show all posts

Thursday, 29 March 2018

Teamwork!




Writing can be a lonely old business, so it’s great when you find yourself working with a good friend on a writing project. My pal of 26 years, Rob Tysall and I have been collaborating on a supernatural thriller for the last four years, and I’m delighted to say that it’s been accepted by Bloodhound Books and will be published in early July 2018.

Collaborating with Rob isn’t a new thing. We’ve been working on non-fiction articles as a team for many, many years. Giving ourselves a working title, we are Words & Images UK, my words, his images and we generally work anywhere in the UK. Although we have travelled abroad for some articles.

However, creating articles for publication involves two different skills – photography and journalism. But, writing a novel is a combination of both of our imaginations, visions and writing skills. The only images are those in our heads – and the skill is in getting the pair of us imagining the same thing!

Although our book has only just been accepted, and we’ve only just settled on what its title should be, which is:  The Bitter End, people are already asking, “So how does collaborative writing actually work?”

For myself and Rob it’s been a sort of evolving situation. Neither of us could have made a deliberate decision such as, “Hey, let’s write a book together!” It was nothing that straight forward. We’ve simply found ourselves chatting about story ideas over the years. If ever I was stuck for a plot, or written myself into a corner, I could chat it over with Rob and he’d always come up with a great twist or a new idea. In fact, I’ve dubbed him my Ideas Man.

One day about four years ago, he came up with an idea for a book that he thought I should write. I listened and then said, “I can’t write that! It’s too dark. It’s too deep. I don’t think along those lines!”
But would he let the matter drop? No! His idea was growing and growing in his head and he wouldn’t let up.

For a while we didn’t make any actual progress, but we did a lot of talking, and plotting and planning, until finally, I relented and drafted out the beginnings of a story. Not surprisingly, it wasn’t how he had envisaged it. But it was a start and we decided not to scrap what was written but began working on it together. As any writer will tell you, editing something is a lot easier than editing a blank page!

Admittedly, his first suggestion that I change a paragraph sent me into spasms! Someone telling me what I should or shouldn’t write! Unheard of! But that’s where a solid friendship comes into play. We listened to each other’s ideas and reasoning, discussed every scene and sentence, and didn’t fall out! In fact. Some of the most tragic and intense scenes would reduce us to fits of laughter as words and ideas ran away with us.

There are dark sections in this book, especially from the viewpoint of one particular character (no spoilers here) where Rob was in his element and waxed lyrical while I typed. The practicalities of a collaboration, at least in our case, is that just one person does the typing, that keeps the style ‘uniform’. And I’m a much better speller, and faster typist – which I really need to be, as once his imagination is let loose, I’m hard pressed to keep up with his dictation!


So, imagine if you will, a male Barbara Cartland lounging on the sofa dictating his latest masterpiece to his secretary! 
It wasn’t quite like that, but you get the picture.

Creating the characters and their backgrounds has been great as a collaboration especially having someone of the opposite sex putting the male point of view over, and I think this shows in the dialogue and actions.

And discussing the plot with someone else provides a stack of events and dramas, that one person alone would not have thought of. For example, when halfway through the book, Rob says, “You know (character) has to die, don’t you?” And I scream: “What? No! You can’t kill (character)!” And Rob just nods and says, “Yes you do.” I admit I was reminded of the famous Stephen King quote: “Kill your darlings.”  (Don’t worry it’s not the dog…)

Now our book is finished, I think the proof of the pudding as to whether the collaboration worked or not, is the realisation that without each other, the book would not have been written. And we’re still friends! And making a start on a sequel!


Q. So, collaborating with a friend, is it something you’ve done or tried to do? And did it work for you?

The Bitter End by Ann Evans & Robert D. Tysall. Published by Bloodhound Books, July 2018.

More on Rob Tysall: https://www.facebook.com/robert.tysall   https://twitter.com/TYSALLSPHOTOS

 Have you read crime novel: Kill or Die, also published by Bloodhound Books. 

 https://www.amazon.co.uk/Kill-Die-Ann-Evans-ebook/dp/B06Y55N625


 Have you read time slip thriller for YA, Celeste, published by Clean Reads. 









Sunday, 13 December 2015

A LETTER FROM MY CHARACTERS by Ann Evans



It's lovely when you receive a letter from someone who's enjoyed your book. But a little more unusual when you get a letter from the characters themselves!

I was curious when the postman delivered a brown padded envelope, and even more curious to find a hand written letter on a kind of scroll, and something wrapped in a piece of black material and tied with a black ribbon.

A cursory glance at the letter had me noticing the words Cross of Aes Dana – which, if you've read my YA time slip book, Celeste you'll know is a magical pendant that my character Megan (alias Celeste) had to guard with her life as it possesses the power of eternal life.



I instantly thought it was from one of the teenagers that I'd spoken to at their school recently – until I saw the letter was signed by Megan, Fraya and Jamie. That trio of names rang a bell – my characters in the book!

They said they'd retrieved the Cross of Aes Dana for me and wanted to thank me for creating them!

Carefully, with excitement growing I untied the package. Oh my goodness! I couldn't believe my eyes. To actually see the Cross of Aes Dana, a figment of my imagination (although the tribe did exist a long, long time ago) but there it was in my hand.



It had the look of age, it had the gemstones, it had the feel. ..
A pendant cast in iron and inset with gemstones. It was
no bigger than a man's thumb and formed the shape of a cross.
In the centre was a garnet, blood red and a powerful protective force.
Inset along the four lengths were honey brown amber crystals and
jasper with layers of red, brown, and white — again for protection.
At the four tips of the cross were four small hematite stones with
their opaque red sheen that merged against the grey of the iron in
which they were set. Truly a fearsomely powerful mix.






I held it tightly, just as Megan had done…


As sleep took over, Megan tried to let her mind drift, to let
the memories flow back. If she could only make sense of all this,
she would be glad to remember everything. But nothing became
any clearer. Eventually as she was drifting halfway between sleep
and semi‐consciousness the image of a face formed in her mind — a
woman's face — like before.

She looked about thirty with dark brown plaited hair. Her
eyes sparkled at first as she mouthed incoherent words, but then
dimmed, and became wreathed in sadness as she faded away. Megan
tried to call her back, to ask what she had said. She
couldn't make out the words. It was so far back... so long ago.

Tossing and turning, murmuring in her sleep, Megan rolled
over and slept deeply. The face drifted back, closer, as if she were
leaning over Megan as she slept. And then she pressed something
into Megan's hand before fading away.

Megan felt the warm angular metal of a cross against her
skin, and smooth gemstones set within the iron, and the thin chain
that enabled it to be worn around the neck.

In her sleep Megan's fingers touched the pouch she wore
around her own throat. It contained a fusion of herbs to keep away
the plague — at least that's what the elders said, and who was she
to argue?

Her fingers tightened around the object in her hand. The
cross was heavy, made of iron — a burden in so many ways...
She slept on unconsciously checking the cross was still there
throughout the night, clasping it tightly in her hand.

Only as she started to wake did she feel it slipping away.
Desperately she tried to hang onto it but as consciousness took
over, so the cross slipped back into the unreal world of her dreams.
Her bedside lamp was still on and she uncoiled her clenched
hand and stared at it, half expecting to see the imprint of the cross
in her skin.

But there was nothing. Just marks of her fingernails in her
palms. She felt for the pouch of herbs around her throat. But of
course they, like the cross were simply the imaginations of a dream.
Or fragmented memories of a life she had lived long, long
ago.




I discovered who had taken the trouble to bring my story to life. A lovely lady called Val Hunt. Val is a fabulous award winning sculptor who uses recycled materials – particularly drinks can metal, to create stunning works of art. I've written about Val's work a few times for magazines, but I never expected this!

Please do take a look at Val's work. She is such a talented lady. Thank you, Val!

http://www.arthunt.co.uk/






And if anyone would like to read more of Celeste, it's available in paperback and as an ebook.



View the trailer at: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AFDBEt9o3Fw


I'd love it if you'd like me on Facebook https://www.facebook.com/Ann-Evans-Books-146957850210/?fref=ts

And follow me on Twitter https://twitter.com/annevansauthor




Thursday, 30 July 2015

A Trailer for Celeste


I SUPPOSE authors are all constantly trying to find ways to tell the world about our books, and seeing as quite a few authors are now having trailer's made for their novels, I thought I'd give it a go, and see if it makes any difference to sales.

This was for Celeste, my YA time slip thriller, set here in Coventry, which is published by American publisher, Clean Reads, formerly known as Astraea Press.

Not being particularly technically minded to put a trailer together myself, I took up the offer of a fellow Clean Reads author in the USA, who runs Videos by O, creating videos for any budget. My budget wasn't very big, but that didn't make any difference to the effort that Opal put into the video, with her sending me mock ups throughout the process, and making the changes that I asked for.


Persuading my photographer friend, Rob Tysall (www.tysallsphotography.org.uk) to head into Coventry's City Centre with me a few weeks ago, we set out to take the necessary photos that I'd need to create the look that I wanted for the trailer. 

The story is about teenager, Megan Miller who moves to Coventry with her parents and starts to experience feelings of deja vu. These feelings become stronger and stronger and she gradually realises she has lived, and died before in Medieval times when her name had been Celeste. The story particularly revolves around the ruins of Coventry's old cathedral.


So photographer, Rob and I headed for the old cathedral, armed with a length of blue ribbon and my daughter's black hooded top. He took lots of different shots of the cathedrals and other atmospheric buildings nearby, which I have to say I'm really really pleased with.

It was a fun day, although I noticed a group of sightseers giving me a wide birth, as I stood in the shadows of St Mary's Guildhall with my hoodie hiding my face for one particular sinister shot. 

Back at the studio, Rob produced the images, and did quite a lot of photoshop 'magic' on the 'evil monk' shot you see at the end. Believe me when I say he did a LOT of photoshop work! I don't actually look like this - honestly!!

I then played about with the different photos, working out which order they needed to appear for the best effect, and used the blurb from the back of the book, in short paragraphs, to indicate which words went with each picture.

Finally it was emailed off to Opal who did her 'magic' adding music and a 'moving' effect, and following a few tweaks, hey presto all done!

Who knows if it will result in more sales, but anyway, it was good fun doing it. Here's the link if you'd like to see the finished result:










You can purchase Celeste as an ebook or paperback:



http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/celeste-ann-evans/1119649538?ean=9781500982492



Please visit my website at: http://www.annevansbooks.co.uk

Friday, 12 June 2015

Congratulations to Alison May on the e-launch of Midsummer Dreams.

  
Congratuations to author Alison May, whose brand new romantic comedy, Midsummer Dreams, published by Choc Lit, has its e-launch today!

To help launch the book on its merry way, a whole bunch of authors are blogging this week about dreams, there's a list at the end of this blog of those taking part. So please do pop along and see what others have to say on the subject of dreams.

Alison set us a few prompts to keep us all in line, but before that, here's a taste of what her new book is all about. It sounds FAB and I can't wait to read it!


Midsummer Dreams by Alison May

Four people. Four messy lives. One party that changes everything …
Emily is obsessed with ending her father’s new relationship – but is blind to the fact that her own is far from perfect.
Dominic has spent so long making other people happy that he’s hardly noticed he’s not happy himself.
Helen has loved the same man, unrequitedly, for ten years. Now she may have to face up to the fact that he will never be hers.
Alex has always played the field. But when he finally meets a girl he wants to commit to, she is just out of his reach.
At a midsummer wedding party, the bonds that tie the four friends together begin to unravel and show them that, sometimes, the sensible choice is not always the right one.

You can download the kindle edition of Midsummer Dreams here: http://bookgoodies.com/a/B00XJOEJTM

Now, more about dreams:

I had a dream…
Actually I'm always dreaming, which is good if you happen to be asleep. Not so good otherwise. Sometimes they're good dreams, but not always. Often my dreams are so realistic I'm positive it's real, then I wake up, glad it was a dream, and then I wake up again realising I only thought I was awake when I was still asleep. Confusing at times!

I had a nightmare…
Let me tell you about two nightmares. One was about a one-handed gravedigger (tricky). I was able to use him weeks later in a mystery story competition which took 1st prize and earned me a nice little £200!

The other nightmare occurred when I was about ten. I dreamed I woke up (nothing changes!) and at the far wall of my bedroom was a shadow of an arched doorway. As I sat in my bed, it opened and a hooded monk walked out and came right round my bed and leant over me. I woke with a start. Phew! Just a dream! And then I looked at the far wall – and there was a shadowed archway of a door. Did I scream for my mum!!! The shadow stayed for about a week – even during the day. Spooky.

I've never forgotten it, but eventually put it to good use in a book. In my YA thriller, Celeste, the very same incident happens to my main character, Megan. And it scares her just as much as it scared me. Makes for a good scene though!

My dream for the future…
World peace, obviously, and an end to suffering, misery, poverty etc etc., but on a more personal note, my dream for the future – a glass conservatory leading into my garden (pretty simple!) But I'm going to have to sell a few more books before that becomes a reality I fear! Still I can dream.

So how about you – what's your dream for the future?

And don't forget Alison May's new book, Midsummer Dreams.






 

And if you're desperate to discover more about that shadowy arched doorway, Celeste is available at all good book outlets, including: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Celeste-Ann-Evans-ebook/dp/B00KQ8XIGE






Other authors taking part in today's Midsummer Dreams blog are:

Jane Lovering http://www.janelovering.co.uk/2015/06/midsummer-dreamsalison-mays-launch-and.html
Rhoda Baxter http://rhodabaxter.com/?p=3102
Sheryl Browne http://sherylbrowne.com/
Laura James http://www.lauraejames.co.uk/
Lisa Hill https://lisahillwriter.wordpress.com/
Sally Malcolm http://sallymalcolm.blogspot.co.uk/
Chris Stovell http://homethoughtsweekly.blogspot.co.uk/
Clare Chase http://clarechase.com/
Janet Gover http://janetgover.com/
Morton Gray http://mortongray.blogspot.co.uk/
Henriette Gyland https://henriettegyland.wordpress.com/
Georgia Hill http://www.georgiahill.co.uk/
Christina Hollis http://christinahollis.blogspot.co.uk
Kathryn Freeman http://kathrynfreeman.co.uk/
Bernadette O’Dwyer http://secretwriter1.blogspot.co.uk/
Debbie Flint http://www.debbieflint.co.uk/read-it-write-it-sell-it
Julia Ibbotson http://www.juliaibbotsonauthor.com
Anne Stenhouse https://annestenhousenovelist.wordpress.com/
Janice Preston http://janicepreston.co.uk/
Linn B Halton http://linnbhalton.co.uk/midsummer-dreams-and-psychic-nightmares/
Helena Fairfax http://helenafairfax.com/
Heather King http://regencywriter-hking.blogspot.co.uk/
Sally Jenkins http://sallyjenkins.wordpress.com/
Holly Magill https://hollyannegetspoetic.wordpress.com/
Evonne Wareham http://evonneonwednesday.blogspot.co.uk/ (Wednesday)
Kate Haye http://katyhaye.com/add-more-narrativium/ (Saturday)





Please visit my webite: http://www.annevansbooks.co.uk
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Ann-Evans-Books
Twitter:https://twitter.com/annevansauthor

Friday, 6 February 2015

The Story of Celeste

  


Megan Miller doesn't believe in ghosts or in reincarnation. But that soon changes after moving to a new city and a new school. 

It starts with feelings of déjà vu. Vague feelings at first that remain annoyingly just out of reach. Then the flashbacks start – memories of ancient times and fragmented dreams of when she had been called Celeste. 

And then the haunting begins. After visiting the ruins of the old cathedral, Megan believes some dark ominous presence is haunting her, following her, whispering in her ear. And always the same question, where did you hide it?

Megan becomes entwined in a frightening and heartbreaking world as she slips uncontrollably between her present life and her medieval past. But the links are fiercely strong and she fears that a new friend is actually a past enemy – and evil has followed her through the centuries.


The idea for my YA novel, Celeste was first sparked when I was writing an article about Coventry's oldest church, St Mary Magdeline's in Wyken, Coventry. This ancient church which is still in regular use, dates back to the 12th Century and was built by the 4th Earl of Chester, Ranulf de Gernon (1099-1153).  


St Mary Magdalene's Church

As I wandered around the ancient gravestones and paused by the lepers window imagining those unfortunates receiving the Holy Eucharist through the small window in the stonework, I found myself drifting back in time, and a story began to formulate in my head.  


My original hero was going to be Ranulf, and my heroine was to be a young woman who hears echoes from the past when she visits the old church and hears him calling her name.


I even had the title – At the Bend in the River. However the story was stop/start for many years. It finally began to take shape when I took the main action away from the little church and centred it around Coventry's City Centre with its old and new cathedrals and the cobbled streets. 

My St Mary Magdeline's remained in the background, in the locality of where my heroine lives after moving to the city. Also I made her much younger. A 14 year old rather than an adult. I gave her a name, Megan Miller, Megan after my granddaughter, Miller because it hints at an old Medieval trade. 

Megan's family re-locate to the city, and the school she starts at, is my old Cardinal Wiseman Grammar School. The common where she walks – where she senses a sinister presence that whispers in her ear, is Wyken Croft. The story told itself to me as I walked my dogs around this area.
 
Ann and Lola
The small gemstoned cross that is at the heart of the story was a gift from the Gods. I can't remember when that formed in my head, I'm just grateful that it did! 

And the ghostly scene in Megan's bedroom when Friar Lucius – or rather his demonic spirit visits her in the dead of night through a dark shadow on the wall, was real! 

Just as you will read how Megan experiences this ghostly moment that terrifies her, it is actually based around a real incident from my childhood. It made quite an impact then and I'm glad I've finally been able to use it.

The Cathedral Spire, the 300 stone steps of the spiral staircase are also real. It's been some years since I climbed them, but the views through the slit windows as you go up, and then the view from the top would have been so different in Celeste's day.
 
Coventry's Lady Godiva, Pru Poretta
 As for Talitha, the hand-maid to Lady Godiva, she may have been real. I heard the name after a friend's granddaughter was christened Talitha. It sounds ancient, it suited the character. 

And Lady Godiva, well she is most definitely real – and an important figure in Coventry's history.  

Today the city has its very own Lady Godiva, Pru Poretta, an ambassador for Coventry. 

Maybe, after you've read Celeste, you will want to follow in her footsteps. I hope you do.
 


Here's a short extract from Celeste as she starts a new school in a new city, knowing no one.  
Megan scanned the sea of strangers. Boys and girls of her age, all staring at her, sizing her up, judging her, deciding whether she was friend or foe. One or two were whispering, others were smiling. 
And then one face. One face shone out from all the others, and Megan’s knees buckled with shock.
Oh there you are Ruth! Megan almost cried out in delight, a huge smile breaking out across her face. There you are! It's been so long since I saw you...  
The next second she halted herself. Stopped herself from falling over her own feet to reach the girl with short corn coloured hair and dark eyes. What on earth was she thinking about? Who on earth was she thinking about? She didn't know the girl! She didn't know anybody here. 
But just for one split second, she had such a feeling of recognition it left her trembling. 
Thank you, Freya,” Mrs Lovejoy put her hand lightly on Megan's arm, indicating for her to go and sit by the girl who had spoken – Freya.
Freya? Where on earth had she got the name Ruth from?  

                                                          * * *  
If you would like a pdf version of Celeste to read and review, I would be happy to send you one.  
Celeste is available as an ebook and in paperback from Barnes & Noble, Waterstones, Amazon and other outlets. www.amazon.co.uk/Celeste-Ann-Evans-ebook/dp/B00KQ8XIGE
Have you read The Beast, The Reawakening and Rampage?  
Need tips on writing and getting published, my book Become a Writer – A step by step guide may be just the thing for you. Available in paperback and as an ebook. http://www.amazon.co.uk/Become-Writer-Step-Guide/dp/1907670246

My website: www.annevansbooks.co.uk

Friday, 5 December 2014

Sapphire Blue - New Book from Karen King.


I'm delighted to welcome to my blog my good friend, multi-published author, Karen King, and to say congratulations on the release today of her latest YA novel - Sapphire Blue.

With more than 125 books to her credit, ranging from picture books to adult romance (under the name Kay Harborne) this is Karen's second young adult novel. It's published by Solstice and has a very distinct supernatural theme to it. 

Karen has also written for many children's magazines including Sindy, Barbie, Winnie the Pooh and Thomas the Tank Engine. In fact she writes for all ages and all genres: story books, picture books, plays, joke books and non-fiction.

I asked Karen a few question – and was really pleased by her first answer... you'll see why!


Q. Placing the story in a spiritual setting is very different from other books you've written. How hard was it to write this and to imagine the locations and backgrounds?

Karen: It was quite a difficult book to write and I kept putting it away and in fact wouldn't have finished it if you and another friend hadn't kept persuading me! Imagining the world and background wasn't too difficult, after all no one knows what the afterlife is like so I could give my imagination free range. What was difficult was working out as things like whether people would still eat, sleep, how they would walk around, would we still have night-time? Also, the story is written in dual viewpoint, from both Sapphire and her boyfriend Will's point of view so I had to try and get into two characters' heads.

Very pleased that my nagging had something to do with you finishing Sapphire Blue, Karen.



Q. The idea of there being different plains when we die is interesting. What inspired that idea? And what inspired you to write Sapphire Blue?

Karen: I've always believed that we live on after we die, that our souls go back to the place we came from, join our friends and family and carry on with our journey. I was talking about this to someone one day and they said that they hoped they didn't forget life on Earth, when they died and that they still had their memories. That started me thinking about what it would be like if you loved someone; would your love still survive in the afterlife? Does everyone go to the same place? It was from this that the idea of Sapphire Blue was born. I started it seven years ago and my synopsis grabbed the attention of a publisher straight away but unfortunately they didn't carry on with their YA fiction list so I shelved it for a while. But the idea wouldn't go away.

So glad the idea didn't go away, Karen.




Q. Sapphire Blue is your second YA book, could you tell the readers something about your first YA book?

Karen: Perfect Summer is set in the not-too distant future when society is so obsessed with perfection that being different in any way is considered a crime. Morgan, the heroine, has a younger brother, Josh, with Down's syndrome and she and her family are under a lot of pressure to have him put away in a home, so life is tough for Morgan. Whereas her best friend, Summer, seems to have a perfect life. Then Josh goes missing and in her quest to find him Morgan encounters great danger and discovers that Summer's life isn't so perfect after all.

I've read Perfect Summer – it's a great book. I know when Karen goes into schools, the story provokes much debate amongst the students. I think Sapphire Blue will do likewise!


Q. With more than 125 books published, what advice would you give to anyone just starting to write.

Karen: Read, read, read so that you're aware of the current market, then write the story that is buzzing around in your head shouting to get out.


Q. Finally, what's next in the pipeline for you?

Karen: I'm working on a few different things but finishing my romance novel and writing the series I'm doing with you is top of my list.


So glad you said that, Karen! Good luck with all your writing projects and especially Sapphire Blue.



Sapphire Blue – Blurb

Can love survive death?
No one has ever walked out of Red. Once the Soul Catchers get you they don’t let you go.” Denny’s words scare me but I have no choice. If Will is in Red that’s where I have to go.
I’ve never really thought what it was like when you died. I’m only 16, too young to worry about that. At least I thought I was. I’ve heard about Heaven and Hell, of course, but it doesn’t look like I’m in either of them. All I know is that Will is here too and I need to find him. I can’t face spending eternity without him.



Sapphire Blue – Extract

Everywhere Will turns all he can see is mist. It’s inside his head too, wrapping around his mind, stopping him from thinking straight.
He tries to shake the mist away, to find a fragment of memory that will tell him who he is, where he is. But there’s nothing. His mind is a complete blank. He can’t even remember his name.
He squints as a shape starts to form in the mist. It’s a man.
The man strides purposefully as if he’s heading somewhere in particular and needs to get there fast.
You okay, mate?”
Will shakes his head. “I can’t remember anything. Where am I?”
The man pauses and looks around. “No one meeting you?”
Will frowns, trying to remember. Why would someone be meeting him? “I don’t think so,” he stammers. “Should they be?”
Sometimes they do.” The man’s tone is casual. He shrugs. “You’d better come with me then.”
Will doesn’t know what else to do, so he follows the man. He has to quicken his pace to keep up with this stranger’s long, effortless strides and constantly looks around, trying to get some idea where they are. After a while the mist starts to fade and Will sees that they’re crossing what looks like barren wasteland. Rugged cliffs jut up along each side, gnarled trees and bushes dot the landscape here and there, and a buzzard caws as it flies overhead. It’s eerie. There’s no one around except him and the man yet Will feels like he’s being watched. Stalked almost.
Where are we going?” he demands, fear making his voice sound shrill. “Who are you and where the hell am I?”
The man turns around. “You really don’t remember, do you?”
Something about the way he says the words sends an icicle of fear down Will’s spine. “Remember what?”
The man holds out his hand, it’s long, thin and bony. “Take my hand.”
Will stares at the outstretched hand not wanting to touch it.
Take it if you want to remember. Or leave it if you don’t. It’s all the same to me.”
Will hesitates, a terrible feeling of foreboding seizing him. What is it he has to remember? He’s sure it’s something he’s not going to like. But he has to find out. He needs to know who he is, where he is, what he’s doing here. He takes a deep breath, reaches out and grasps the man’s hand.
Immediately, a bright light explodes across his forehead. He gasps and tries to pull his hand away but the man grips it tight, his nails digging into Will’s flesh. The light fades and pictures flash across his mind like a horror slide show. He’s getting in a car, a girl’s singing, a huge tree zooms in so close that he instinctively step back then there’s a big bang. Now the girl’s lying motionless, blood oozing out of a gap in her forehead, her neck bent at an awkward angle, her eyes open, staring. Will draws in his breath, his hand pressing across his forehead as his memory floods back and his heart shatters into jagged smithereens that puncture him inside. The girl is Sapphire, his girlfriend. He’d just passed his driving test and was taking them for a drive when he crashed.
He killed her. He killed Sapphire.


Links
Twitter: @karen_king



Please visit my website: http:www.annevansbooks.co.uk
Take a peep at three of my latest books:
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Celeste-Ann-Evans-ebook/dp/B00KQ8XIGE
and
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Uninvited-Ann-Evans-ebook/dp/B00O2I9084
Any teenage reluctant readers in the family?
http://www.amazon.com/Nightmare-Teen-Reads-Ann-Evans/dp/1781479720










Tuesday, 28 October 2014

A nice Halloween read.... by Ann Evans


If you enjoy the sort of read that sends a shiver up the spine, you might enjoy The Uninvited. It's an ideal Halloween read as there's a nice vampire-ish feel to it.

The idea for this story came about when I worked at the Coventry Telegraph. I remember spotting a headline about a man who discovered he had someone living in his attic. It seems they'd lived there for ages and he'd never known.

It made me think about those noises in the attic that we hear from time to time. Probably it's just birds... probably.

In The Uninvited, my main character, Katie is told by her very unfriendly cousin, Vanessa and their granddad who Katie has to stay with while her mum's in hospital, that it's bats. But it doesn't sound like bats, it sounds like footsteps... and sometimes it sounds like someone whispering.

There's a strange atmosphere in the old bake-house where granddad and Vanessa live. Granddad used to be bossy and loud and Vanessa used to be good fun. True enough she loved to tell creepy stories, but Katie used to love that. Only now it's very different.

Granddad seems a broken man, he's a shadow of himself. And it seems to Katie that he's actually afraid of Vanessa. And as for Vanessa, she's gone weird – all Gothic, but she's become nasty and spiteful.

She's preparing a party for herself – a surprise party. But when Katie asks how she can prepare a surprise party for yourself, Vanessa says, “Wait and see what the surprise is....”


Here's an extract:

Your Grandfather is a good man - a kind man… deep down.”
Katie’s mother’s words echoed in her mind as the taxi neared the old bake-house. Well, he hadn’t been kind enough to meet her off the train, nor had Vanessa, which was odd.
Even though Katie was eighteen months younger than her cousin they had always been the best of friends. It was funny she hadn’t been at the station if Granddad had been too busy to meet her. Although her train had been delayed due to some problem on the line.
Oh well!” Katie sighed as the taxi left Witchaven village and threaded its way towards the isolated bake-house. Vanessa was probably out with friends and Granddad was probably at some meeting or other. He was always involved in committees. He liked organising, giving orders, shouting, bossing people around.
He’s a good man…”
Katie felt suddenly homesick. She hated leaving her mum in hospital, but with her being so ill, Granddad was the only relative to care for her.
Her cousin Vanessa had lived with Granddad and Nanna since she was a toddler. Her parents had been killed in a car crash, so they’d brought her up. But now Nan was dead too. She’d died suddenly from a heart attack at Christmas.
Katie thought back to her last visit here, seven months ago the funeral. It had been the saddest, most awful visit here to Witchaven. Poor Vanessa had been broken-hearted. Granddad had been his usual self though, stiff upper lip, not shedding a tear.
Poor Vanessa, Katie thought as the taxi pulled up outside the bake-house and she clambered out and paid her fare. Stuck with bossy old Granddad.
He was an ex sergeant major, big and loud with a voice that made your ears ring. He was always telling people what to do, bossing them about. She and Vanessa used to giggle at the way his white handlebar moustache would twitch when he barked out his orders. Although sometimes he would get so high and mighty that the only one who dared answer back was Nanna.
For as long as Katie could remember he had been involved in village life. Her mum described him as a pillar of society. Katie guessed he liked bossing committees about too.
She stood for a moment as the taxi drove away. The house was almost shrouded by the oaks, elms and chestnut trees of Oatmeal Woods. On holidays in the past she and Vanessa would go exploring in the woods, which was fun, even if Vanessa did enjoy scaring her with spooky stories about the mystical characters that lived deep in the woodland.
Katie’s gaze switched to the imposing red bricked building. It was centuries old with its huge mill wheel, like the walls, smothered in creeping ivy. Her eyes were drawn to the doorway at the top of the house the miller’s doorway where sacks of grain would, long ago, be hauled up for grinding. She and Vanessa often played in the attic – it used to worry Katie’s mum in case they accidentally fell through the doorway. But they always had such fun up there, even if they did end up dusty with old flour.
Looking forward to seeing Vanessa again, Katie rattled the heavy brass door knocker hoping her cousin would be home. Granddad was so overbearing and loud, he made her nervous.
But she was beginning to think no one was home, as it was minutes before the door finally creaked slowly open. Smoky the cat emerged first and wrapped itself around Katie’s ankles. And then Granddad appeared.
Granddad?” Katie exclaimed, startled by his appearance. He seemed smaller than she remembered. The same thick white hair, the same white handlebar moustache, but his shoulders were hunched and there was a look in his eyes which startled her. A haunted look.
He stared at her for some moments, his pale eyes blank as if his thoughts were far, far away. Finally he exclaimed: “Katie! I’d forgotten. Come in, come in.”
He drew back his shoulders and studied her like a sergeant inspecting his troops. That was more like it, Katie thought, more like his usual self.
You’ve grown!” he stated. “Still skinny though. How’s your mother?”
She… she was quite poorly when I left the hospital,” Katie answered, then afraid she might start crying which he would never stand for, she changed the subject quickly. “How are you, Granddad?”
Me? Never better. And you’re not to worry about your mother. She’s a strong woman. Now come along, I’ll get you something to eat. I imagine you’re just like your cousin, eat like a horse and never put an ounce on.”
Katie frowned. “I don’t remember Vanessa having a big appetite.”
A muscle twitched in his cheek. “Since … since your nan passed away, probably her way of compensating.”
His shoulders slumped again and he shuffled rather than marched down the cool tiled hallway into the kitchen. Katie thought how old and weary he looked.
He cut her a chunk of quiche and sliced up a tomato. “There you go! Can’t have you starving. I’ll make us a pot of tea.”
Thank you,” Katie said, trying to smile. He was making an effort to appear his old self, but it was an effort. She had already glimpsed the old man he’d become. A stooped old man with a haunted faraway look in his eyes. No longer a man to be feared - more a man to be pitied.
Where’s Vanessa, Granddad? I can’t wait to see her again.”
A teacup slipped from his hands and smashed on the red stone floor. As he stooped to clear away the broken china, Katie saw the expression on his face – that same strange, haunted look.
Let me help you,” Katie offered, but he dismissed her offer with a flap of his hand.
I can manage, eat your supper. Your cousin’s probably upstairs in her room.”
Katie sank back into her chair, feeling confused and lost and lonely. She was missing home, missing her mum. She wished Vanessa would come down. There wouldn’t be this awful atmosphere if Vanessa was around.
Vanessa was fun, she could always make her laugh or make her shiver. Vanessa was the best storyteller ever, and there was nothing Katie liked better than curling up under the duvet while Vanessa told her some dark and mysterious tale of witches and goblins.
She tried to eat, but the food felt dry in her mouth. It was strange too without Nanna pottering around. In fact everything was strange.
The silence between her and her granddad went on forever. Finally in an attempt to lighten the mood, she ventured, “Are you still involved with your committees, Granddad?”
Oh yes, most certainly,” he answered, brightening instantly. “I’m Chairman of the Parish Council and on the Board of School Governors. Oh yes and a magistrate now too.”
As he spoke his expression became animated, no longer a cowering old man, his back straightened even his moustache seemed to bristle.
Wow! How do you get time for all that?” Katie asked, preferring him in this mood. She didn’t know that stooped old man at all.
I never idle my time away. Life’s too precious to…” his voice trailed away, and he struggled to finish what he was saying. “…to waste.”
He had to be thinking about Nanna. He probably missed her more than he would admit. Katie wondered if she should give him a hug, but she didn’t dare, so she remained seated and said softly, “Nanna had a happy life…”
Nanna?” He frowned, as if he hadn’t a clue what she was talking about. Then, “Ah yes, your nan, fine woman. Well I must get on. Twilight meeting at the Town Hall. We’re getting close to the election of the town mayor.”
Katie lowered her eyes. No, he hadn’t changed. His committee work was still the most important thing in his life. She must have imagined that haunted look.
She forced herself to appear cheerful. “So who’s going to be elected mayor? I can’t imagine anyone more suitable that you.”
His pale eyes suddenly sparkled. “Well, between you and me, I’ve heard I’m in the running.”
That’s good,” Katie replied, pleased to see his craggy face break into a real smile. But just as swiftly, it vanished. The sparkle died in his eyes and in slunk that stooped, haunted look again. Only this time he seemed to shrink before her eyes, curling up, like a beaten dog, cowering before its master.
Granddad!” Katie cried, jumping to her feet. “What’s wrong?”
Then a prickling sensation at the nape of her neck warned her that they were no longer alone. She spun around.
Standing in the doorway, was Vanessa.
She was dressed in black. Black from head to toe. A long floating black skirt that reached her ankles and a fine black shirt that hung loosely from her thin shoulders with a black top beneath it. Her raven hair had grown longer and she wore it loose, framing a face that was almost pure white – except for her blood red lipstick. There was no hint of her overeating to compensate for losing her nan. She was tall and willowy and beautiful.
Although the dramatic Gothic appearance of her cousin surprised Katie, she ran and threw her arms around her. “Vanessa, it’s brilliant to see you again!”
But Vanessa stood rigid, arms at her sides, expressionless. Projecting an aura of cold, stark bleakness that left Katie feeling uncomfortable and unwelcome.
You’re here then,” said Vanessa, her voice flat, emotionless as Katie stepped awkwardly away from her cousin. “Didn’t Granddad tell you? This isn’t a good time.”
The icy welcome shocked Katie. “But, there’s nowhere else, no one else…” She looked to her granddad for support.
The old man mumbled inaudibly, lowering his head, avoiding Katie’s gaze. Confused, she looked back at her cousin.
Vanessa’s darkly rimmed eyes were icy blue. “Well, just don’t expect things to be like they were. Nothing’s the way it was.” She glared at the old man. “Is it, Granddad?”
Without a word he shuffled towards the sink, shoulders slumped, head bent, a pathetic shadow of himself. Vanessa flicked back her hair, looking triumphant.
Katie stared at them both, shocked by how things had changed. Their roles had been reversed. Vanessa was the domineering one now and Granddad was a trembling wreck under her power.
What on earth had happened here?



The Uninvited is available from Amazon:



If you enjoy The Uninvited, you might also enjoy Celeste. A time slip mystery set in my home city of Coventry in the present day and in the Medieval past.


Both books are published by Astraea Press.