An opportunity to read my short story books, they are free on Amazon this week.
Author Page Amazon.
Let me know what you think, which was the best of the bunch?
I am working on a new anthology – title undecided – I am aiming to produce 300 pages based on a theme of lost love. It will not be a romance collection, instead it will be a series based on real life events.
I received a lovely comment from a reader about my book, Missing.
She found the description of the location, setting and the farming community authentic and real. This, she believed, could only have been written by someone from within that environment.
I felt humbled by her enthusiasm.
Posted in Uncategorized
Tagged Cosy Crime, Creative writing, Flash Fiction, FREE Ebooks, Humour, Mystery, Observational, Sherlock Holmes, Short Stories, Tales of a different kind, Writing
Friday Fictioneers – Rochelle Wisoff-Fields
PHOTO PROMPT © Jan Wayne Fields
Huntress in Suburbia
It always happens to me. Melissa kicked a bucket.
Ouch, it was full of sand. Had she broken her toe?
More rain to come, so the welcome BBQ was off. What will they think?
She had escaped squatting in a squalid basement flat, and after they took her baby, Ellen, away, inside she died. Her pimp, a weak drug dealing scum, had a fortune stashed beneath the floorboards. She put a mickey in his vein and left him to rot.
She bought into suburbia – clean and with a teaching job –an ambitious single woman out to trap a rich husband.
Posted in Blog, Flash Fiction, Friday Fictioneers
Tagged Ambitious Women, BBQ days, BBQ Ice Breakers, Flash Fiction, Friday Fictioneers, Huntress, Mystery, Relationships, Ruined by Storms, Suburbia
Friday Fictioneers – inlinkz
PHOTO PROMPT © Randy Mazie
A Warning Anagram
‘Whoever created time.’ Holmes mumbled as sweat dripped from his chin. ‘Must control the universe.’
I sprinted to catch up. ‘It’s abandoned. You were wrong Holmes.’
‘No, Watson, those walls conceal the Tardis.’ He wiped his brow. ‘See, a warning; Transgression S – S for Sherlock.’
I stared at his intellectual smugness forming laughter lines by his eyes. The dust burned in my lungs, and Holmes’s grin prompted me to draw my pistol. If I shot him, I’d be free from this mad quest?
‘Yes, let’s be careful,’ Holmes said. ‘We may have overstepped the Time Lord’s patience.’
Posted in Blog, Short Story, Friday Fictioneers
Tagged Dichtung, Doctor Who, Dr Who, Flash Fiction, Kurzgeschichte, Mystery, Sherlock Holmes, Short Stories, six word story. flash fiction. Great writing., Tardis, Time Lord
Rochelle Wisoff-Fields-Addicted to Purple
PHOTO PROMPT © Ted Strutz
From the jetty, I watch the plane skip and skim over the lake. Its engine roaring as it lifts high into the Autumn sky, and like a migrating swan it glides southward towards a warmer horizon.
I suppressed my tears and wave a frantic farewell as pride fills my lungs. Mary promised to return as she is free from our genetic abnormality.
She will confront the ignorant multitude to overcome the prejudice that holds our people quarantined on this island.
Other teenagers have tried, they never come home.
I stroke the scales on my claws and wonder; will she succeed?
Posted in Blog, Flash Fiction, Friday Fictioneers, Observational
Tagged dystopia, Flash Fiction, Friday Fictioneers, Love on Lizard Island, mutations, Mystery, Short Story, six word story. flash fiction. Great writing., teenage runaway, unjust prejudice
Friday Fictioneers – Rochelle Wisoff-Fields
PHOTO PROMPT © Sandra Crook
Escape from Corfe Castle.
Holmes is missing, and the last train waits.
We came to investigate the torture and murder of three French spies, but found them unperturbed drinking real ale in the Purbeck Arms.
A trick and heinous treachery by Professor Moriarty to lure us to death in the dungeons of the castle.
What is taking him so long?
The scarlet sky, not a good sign, its dying rays dripping like blood over the castle ruins. Is it the end of Holmes?
What next; a screeching Pterodactyl swooping downwards.
‘Quick, Watson!’ Holmes shouts from the beast. ‘Jump on before the magic wears off.’
Posted in Blog, Friday Fictioneers, Only 100 Words
Tagged Corfe Castle, Flash Fiction, Gedichte, Kurzgeschichte, Mystery, Sherlock Holmes, Short Stories, six word story. flash fiction. Great writing., Writing
Please Note: the novel will be available as an e-book at the end of March.
Missing –Read the first chapter – here.
When Laura was three years old, she was dragged away from her garden swing and taken into care. This experience created feelings, as she grew up, of being abandoned and unwanted by her mother.
As an adult, she contacts a librarian in the village where she was born for assistance in tracing her relatives. She ignores an anonymous warning to stay away.
In Russet House, she finds photographs of her mother, and from newspaper cuttings hidden in the attic she reads about a horrific event.
Laura is shocked by the tragedy and with the help of a retired detective is determined to solve the mystery. However, their investigation unsettles those close to Laura who advise her to let the past rest.
Laura had come to Kirkindale to find her mother, instead she discovered her identity was a lie.
I have completed thirty seven chapters of the book and I am on the third editing cycle. (Will I ever finish?). The book cover is also a draft.
Comments welcome – the good, the bad and the ugly – my skin is thicker than an elephant’s.
Result of Free e-book downloads.
So far there has been 200 reads over the weekend, for me I am honoured.
Thank you to everyone, and I trust you have enjoyed the read.
The Mahjong Dragons
Let me know how you got on and if you feel inclined post some wild comments on Amazon or even Goodreads; or just a few comments here. I am not looking for praise, (well, I am really). However, your honest opinions on the stories and writing are very welcome.
Friday Fictioneers – Friday 23rd March
Photo Prompt by Björn Rudberg
Dreaming of the Tardis.
Holmes ignored me and peered through his binoculars. ‘At last we have her lair.’
‘Same sign again, Holmes.’
‘A mere ploy, Watson.’ He pointed to the distant ridge. ‘The Tardis! we have her. Oh boy, Watson, the Doctor is here.’ He strode on along the track.
For the hundredth time the ridge came into view, as we reached the same sign on this same spot.
Is there no escape from this repetitive nightmare? I was dehydrated following Holmes on this circular looped track.
Next time round, I will push him off and jump to jolt myself awake.