Site of the writer Andrew Wood

Archive for December, 2012

My Blog’s 2012 review!

The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2012 annual report for this blog.

Here’s an excerpt:

The new Boeing 787 Dreamliner can carry about 250 passengers. This blog was viewed about 1,400 times in 2012. If it were a Dreamliner, it would take about 6 trips to carry that many people.

Click here to see the complete report.

Christmas Post – Works of Becky Searson

Hello everyone,

Firstly a very merry Christmas to you all :-)

This post will be introducing you all to a lovely lady from London in the UK called Becky Elizabeth Searson, a paranormal romance and dark fantasy writer.

I first found Becky via her author page when it popped up on my Facebook as a suggested page to like. I hit the like button and we eventually got talking. She recently teased her many fans with extracts from her début novel – the first in a trilogy.

Here is Becky’s Facebook author page introduction:

Hi,
I’m 20 years old, and I have had a passion for writing ever since I can remember! When I was 4 years old, I wrote my first proper story which was chosen to be read out in front of my entire school during assembly (eep!). That was the moment I knew I was going to be a writer.

I am currently working hard on my début novel, which is the first book in a Trilogy, with novellas planned to be released alongside them, I write Paranormal fantasy and Dark romance, aimed at the older-end of YA.
When I’m not writing, you’ll probably find me reading, hanging out with my fiancée  gaming (yes – I’m a total nerd!) or doing my amateur photography. I also love cooking and watching movies that make me cry! :)

If you would like to know about me, or my writing, feel free to zip me a message, via my page, my email or my twitter (All of which are linked here on the page).

Happy reading and writing guys, and may I say thank you SO much for your support. Every like is a step closer to me achieving my dreams!

 

Her first teaser was posted up on December 10.

Teaser Number ONE:
“I awoke with a start, drenched in cold sweat and breathing heavily. My body ached, a bone-deep agony that clung to every sinew of my being. I frowned, struggling against some sort of restraint that was preventing me from removing the stray hair from in front of my eyes. I tried to squint through it, tilting my head to the side until my fringe fell back into the tangled mess that was the rest of my hair. What was this? Was I really dead? A horrifying thought bubbled to the surface of my mind; was this Hell? I shuddered, crippled again by the realisation that I still had no idea who I was…who I’d been. Maybe…maybe I deserved this. Goose bumps peppered my arms as I wondered what I could have possibly done in life to deserve an eternity of pain and despair. I could almost hear the cogs whirring in my brain as my mind churned through a tangle of thoughts and emotions, all of it melding – changing – into a burning inferno of confusion… and guilt. I was a bad person. Or at least, I had been.
I didn’t feel relieved; I didn’t feel the weight of my confusion lift. The thought wasn’t a welcome one; I felt my whole being instantly rebelling against the idea. And not just because it was hard to accept – hard to believe – but because in my gut I knew it was wrong. How could I be dead when I felt so… alive? The throbbing pain in my arms was all too real, and despite feeling more confused with every passing moment, I was intact.
I definitely wasn’t dead.
So then where was I? Scrunching my eyes closed, I willed myself to find my way through the fog – to remember.”

 

Some fantastic work, eh? Here’s number two!

Teaser Number TWO: (Warning: Contains Explicit language, proceed at your own discretion).

“How do you know me, Kieran?” I squared up to him, jabbing my finger into the solid mass of his muscled chest as I half-spoke, half-screamed, my voice shaking with rage. I was angry at myself for not remembering, angry at him for lying to me. “I wish everyone would stop fucking lying to me – look at me! Do I look like a child to you? Do I?” The power I heard in my voice was unnerving, but I didn’t back down. I crossed my arms as I waited, my sudden burst of energy, and rage-fuelled confidence seeming to wane, leaving me exhausted once again. I stood my ground though – never once taking my eyes from his. He squirmed, appearing unsurprised – grimacing as he shifted his weight, clearly struggling to find the words.
“Amber, you have to believe me when I say that this isn’t easy for me to explain, I-I really think you need some more time to–“I cut him off before he could finish, my lips pressed firmly together. I was sick off not knowing, sick of having the answers kept from me.
“Time?” I screeched, fully aware that I was being unreasonable but too angry and hurt to care, “Was that supposed to be funny? Because I’m really not seeing the joke here! It’s been over a month since I woke up Kieran. And all that time, I’ve been searching for myself, trying to remember – to figure out who the hell I am! I still don’t even know why this happened! And why is that? I’ll tell you why: It’s.Because.Fucking.Nobody.Will.Tell.Me.Anything.” I finished, spitting each word as if it were a sentence of its own, talking through gritted teeth.

I hope you are all enjoying her work so far! I know I am :-) If all this hasn’t been enough for you all to be convinced of her obvious talent and diverse thinking, then here is a promo picture for her main characters ‘Ambrosine Carlina Valente’ and ‘Kieran Eoghan O’Connor’:

Beyond Humanity Character pic3

Some epic stuff!

If you want to network with Becky you can find her on her Facebook author page - https://www.facebook.com/BeckyElizabethSearsonAuthor

You can also find her on Twitter - https://twitter.com/BeckyElizabeth3

I hope you have enjoyed this Christmas post and give Becky a look :-) Tell her I sent you!

MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!

Flash Fiction #14 – Futility

Here is installment number 14. Enjoy :)

 

Flash Fiction #14 – Futility

With a slip of the fingers, a jerk of the wrist, I let go of the glass in my hand. My mind is full of it – the flashes of memories that are alien to me. As the crystal-cut tumbler shatters into hundreds of shards, my eyes roll back as the darkness consumes me once again. Always and eternally I shall battle on with such a force roaming around in my head.

I see his face leering at me through the mist, his grumbling laugh a white noise. His teeth are yellowed and his hair receding back up his wrinkled forehead like the outgoing tide. I see my slender hand reaching out, blood dripping down it. But the hand is not mine. I have no control. The hand is batted to one side and the all too familiar glint of a blade twinkles in the powerful sunlight, its hardened steel dark with death.

‘Softly, softly,’ a voice whispers, creepy and cold, into my ears. It fills my head with a chilling wind, the depth of a fresh snow weighing my thoughts into pacification.

A gasp leaves, what I take to be, my throat as the weapon slowly, painfully, slices my neck. My memory shouts and screams inside its own head to fight back but something smothers it like a pillow, foul tasting and rife with acid.

Choking, aching, crying – I feel it consume me.

An echo of the memory calls to me – ‘Free me. Free yourself.’

I shoot upright, the floor cold and hard beneath me. I am alone and shivering. I huddle my arms around myself and hold as much as I can.

What am I to do? Is this me? Who else could it be? Why can I not remember?

Yet again I sob, just like I have done every night for the past 12 years…

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