Monthly Archives: August 2016

Another Day, Another Season, Another Web Cam…

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It’s been a busy couple of weeks in the “real” world so apologies for the lack of a proper blog post here last week.

There just aren’t enough hours in the day just now!

Now that the household has resumed “normal” chaos levels, a sense of routine is returning to the world. (Although it has been disrupted once more over the past few days by the arrival of a small feline ball of fluff – more about him another day)

In the creative grand scheme of things, Book Baby 3 has been my primary focus. Since I started typing up my handwritten manuscript (makes it sound very proper ..tee hee… pile of tatty scrawled notebooks is closer to the truth!), time and seasons have been getting confused!

In the “real” world I’ve been enjoying early evening sunshine and warmth. In the Book Baby 3 world., I’m in the depths of an icy winter. While in my “real” world my brain has been thinking all things “back to school” (for the final time) for Girl Child, my creative brain has been thinking Christmas and New Year’s Eve parties. (Ironic as I really don’t like New Year’s Eve)

Is it any wonder that I sometimes feel as though I’m losing the plot entirely here!

Adjusting to the different times and seasons of writing is something I struggle with to an extent. I can’t think Christmas in July and I can’t think hot summer beach days in January.

That’s where the internet comes into its own. Google is a Godsend!

Need to picture the beach in January when in reality it’s the height of summer? As Google and voila-  a host of grey stormy beach scenes, flooded boardwalk and dark clouds.

Need to visualise Rockefeller Plaza on Christmas Eve? Google is only too happy to oblige.

I’ve said before, Street View has been a life save on many occasions.

The internet also keeps the “real” memories of the places I write about in the Silver Lake series very much alive thanks to some live time views. I love web cams!

Over time I’ve found several web cams that keep it all alive for me. I have a good memory and a mind full of precious memories but it’s been over four years since I’ve been to some of my key locations.

Yes, I can close my eyes and daydream myself there in a split second but some of the sharpness is starting to go on these daydreams. A few have become tarnished over the years.

There’s one web cam, well two really, that keep my beach memories fresh.

It also keeps me sane.

If I’ve had a tough day or am feeling a little low, then a real time virtual view of my favourite beach is only a mouse click away. (I’ll confess, the tab is always open on my laptop)

Anyone that follows my Twitter/Facebook will be familiar with the views I’m talking about. I may have screenshotted one or two of them!

I can watch the sun rise; I can watch the sun bake down on the powdery sand; I can watch the waves pound in on the shore; I can watch the sun set (if I stay up late enough!)

If it’s a miserable dreich day in Scotland, I can click and, as if by magic, I can enjoy a few minutes of virtual beach sunshine.

Sometimes its also nice to be reminded it can rain there as well. In fact, in real life, when I first returned to visit Rehoboth, after a gap of twenty four years, it was pouring with rain! We were all soaked to the skin within minutes. The five of us trooped into Hooters for lunch, dripping all over the floor! Happy, if soggy, memories.

Want to see this view for yourself? Just a glimpse? Here – take a look

http://www.rehobothbeachfever.com/rehoboth-beach-webcam.html#.V73tIY-cHuj

 

http://www.atlanticsandshotel.com/default.aspx?pg=webcam

 

While you enjoy a few blissful moments at my favourite beach, I’d better get back to my typing marathon. Book Baby 3 ain’t gonna type itself!

 

 

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Due to a technical fault….

bbc2_testcard_illustration_bDue to a technical fault….no blog post this week….Blame the real world for this temporary interference. Normal service will resume shortly.

 

image soured via Google/credits to the owner

Silently Watching At Sunrise

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Early morning shadows hid the fallen angel in the trees that grew beside the picnic tables. There was a still a chill in the air. She drew her majestic black wings around her for warmth. Her throat felt parched. It had been weeks since she had last fed; months since she had last enjoyed some warm, viscous human blood.

Killing a mortal was always high risk. Hunger and desire had caused her to be careless last time. She should’ve taken time to carry the body off instead of discarding it in the dried leaves on the pavement.

She’d heard the shrill shrieks of the dog walker who had discovered the man’s body not long after she had abandoned it. Damn dog!

Well, she’d taken care of it a week or so later. Dog owners were sloppy. The angel had watched, biding her time, until the chocolate brown Labrador was off its lead, running ahead of its slow middle aged owner. The dog’s death had been swift. It had barely whimpered as she had bitten deep into its jugular vein. By the time the owner had caught up, the angel had drained every last drop from the beloved family pet and swooped up into the trees out of sight. She had laughed at the woman’s wails of grief for the dead canine lying on the pavement.

Her attention was brought back to the present as she watched the woman cross the road, heading towards her. The angel had been studying her early morning routine for a few weeks, working out where and when to strike. The woman’s erratic fitness regime had frustrated her. Never the same day two weeks in a row; never the same number of outing s a week; always the same time to within a minute or two. Close surveillance had warned the angel of the routine of others who walked and ran along that section of road so early in the morning.

There was one obvious window of opportunity. It came when the woman finished her run. When she returned to the small secluded picnic spot, she sat down at one of the tables to catch her breath for a moment or two before tackling the steep hill back to her home. She only took a seat though if the sun was shining.

Hunger was forcing the angel to take a dangerous but calculated risk by stepping out into the direct sunlight. For the sake of savouring the sweet ferrous female blood, she was prepared to risk singeing her precious wings. There were only so many rabbits and sheep and deer that she could stomach. Her recent starvation diet had left her feeling desiccated; feeling unfeminine. It was this fact that had decided her that she needed to feast on female hormone filled blood on this occasion.

Calmly, she waited in the shadows for her prey to return. Patiently, she counted the dog walkers, ensuring they all passed her oblivious to her presence. The other two regular early morning joggers also passed, heading out towards the lighthouse

The minutes ticked steadily by.

Silently, she watched the woman approach. There was a sheen of sweat on her forehead. Her cheeks were scarlet, reddened by the effort, and she was breathing heavily. The angel’s nostrils twitched as she tasted the hormone soaked blood in the air around her.

Just as she had hoped, the worn out woman took a seat at the end of the bench in the sun, gasping for air.

Spreading her wings, ready to swoop, the angel suddenly froze to the spot.

The air was filled with a familiar ferrous infused male musk. A scent she had only dreamed about over recent weeks. A perfume that she hadn’t lusted after since her last human meal.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Rhythmic light footsteps were approaching rapidly. He was still a hundred meters or more away. Already her sensitive ears could hear that infernal music that he listened to.

Faced with a choice, she hesitated. Male or female? Decisions. Decisions….

Fate intervened.

Hearing the footsteps, the woman scrambled to her feet and darted across the road out of sight before he reached the picnic area.

Silently, seething with hungry frustration, the dark angel watched as he ran by. Oh how she yearned to sink her fangs into his veins. He was a meal to be lingered over and savoured, not a dinner to be rushed through greed. Like a fine wine, his blood would be sipped until she felt intoxicated by it.

With a soft sigh that could easily have been mistaken for the breeze wafting through the leaves, the angel drew her purple tipped wings around her once more and settled in the shadows to wait for her next opportunity to dine.

 

 

image sourced via Google- credits to the owner

Post Staycation 2016 Book Baby blues…sorry, news

Staycation 2016 is already a fading memory (After ten minutes back in the salt mine on Monday morning, before I’d even got half way down my first coffee of the day, it had faded.)

My primary goal for my Staycation was to finish the first draft of Book Baby 3. To return to my previous pregnancy analogy, I feel like I’ve been expecting this one forever. When I went back and checked, I started to write it just over two years ago, 22 June 2014 to be exact (although one scene was written in December 2013) If this had been a pregnancy I think I’m just about to deliver an elephant! It may well prove to be a tome of a book!

However, after my labour of love, by the end of week one, my mission had been accomplished and I finally had a completed first draft in my hands. Hallelujah!!

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It’s a surreal feeling this time around as I’ve already taken the decision to “park” the Silver Lake series after this one.

Don’t panic Jake fans – he’ll be back! There’s a plan in my mind – well two actually- but I’m not giving anything away just yet. It’s very early days but the notebooks have been bought.

Now I’m facing a marathon labour with Book Baby 3 as I type up my handwritten scrawls and edit and proofread and spellcheck and grammar check……I wonder how much caffeine and Pinot Grigio this is going to take?

Watch this space!

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So what about my first two Book Babies? Are they behaving themselves?

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Well both of them are quietly ticking over – too quietly for my liking (quiet children always arouse my suspicions)- but they’re out there making their way in this big bad world. Both of them are 5* students on Amazon.co.uk. Both have earned great reviews on Amazon.com. I really can’t complain.

No one’s told me my babies are ugly so there’s a blessing.

Self-promotion is not something that comes naturally to me but I’ve been doing my best.

Last weekend I bit the bullet and recorded a short video clip for You Tube to help promote Book Baby 1- Stronger Within. Lord that was nerve wracking!

Trust me, I am not a natural narrator!

It took several takes to get an acceptable version recorded for posterity.

I hate listening to myself. Cringing, I played it back. Oh Lord, I sound SO Scottish! Guess that is only natural as I am Scottish.

Hey ho, its another way to get some free promotion so feel free to go in, listen (laugh if you feel the urge) but please share the video with the world.

Once I regroup my nerves and manage to get the house to myself for an hour so that it’s all quiet, I’ll maybe try a second video to promote Book Baby 2 – Impossible Depths …..or then again…..

Well, I’ve thousands of words needing my undivided attention so I guess I’d better get typing!

#BondedSouls #amwriting #amtyping