Shell's Bookshelf

Shameless plug alert

2012-02-14T05:26:00.005-08:00

I don't do this very often, I'm not one of those people that plugs their work on every site at every opportunity. Sometimes maybe I suppose I should, but I find it intrusive and it's certainly annoying when all I see on my Twitter is "Read my book!" "My book, read it!" "Have you read my book yet?" from the same person, each time I refresh.
Anyway, here's me, being a hypocrite then...

Dusty came from nowhere I think. She sauntered up to me one Saturday evening and settled herself at my side and began to tell me her story. Before I knew it, I had almost 8,000 words written about her first adventure. It didn't seem to have taken any time at all. By Sunday afternoon, I had a full episode of her story, the genre she fitted into and a character that I really liked. I asked a few people to read what I'd written and bearing in mind that I wanted Dusty the Demon Hunter to be a kick-ass teen, I was disappointed when I was told, in no uncertain terms, that it was way too raunchy for teens. Now, to be fair, I don't think it was the teens that it was too raunchy for. I think it's too raunchy for the parents of said teens. They don't like to think their teens are reading this - they are though, trust me, I did too!
Nevertheless, I toned it down (no, really, I did) and though it's still slightly risqué, it's not graphic.

Dusty's friend has had a dabble with a friend's Ouija Board and something came through. That 'something' was an incubus, a demon that seduces human women in the hope that it can impregnate them and then steal away the resulting child.
Dusty was asked to help her friend Ange and because Dusty is the result of a similar encounter (her mother was seduced by a powerful demon) she helps Ange to stop the night-visits.
During the course of the adventure, Dusty meets another half-demon called Hunter, and they hit it off.

I had the story proof-read (thank you Julie) and it was put onto Amazon's Kindle site (thanks Trev).
Then I sat back and waited.

People loved it! They love the character, the story - everything about her! I am still excited that I created something that others enjoy and tell me that they enjoy it. Though she's not hit 1000 sales yet, Dusty's getting out there and I'm sure she'll be a success (she already is a success to me, people enjoy reading about her, it's not about the money, it never was).

After that encouraging start, I tried another story. This time Dusty encounters mythological creatures called harpies. I researched these creatures and found that they were three sisters and I was able to weave a very satisfactory (well, to me, anyway) story with regards to Dusty. Ange makes another appearance in this story too, as does Ange's cousin and of course, Hunter. Flights of Fantasy has also been well received by the fans that have started to accumulate for my half-demon teen.

Vampires, Trouble x 3 was inevitable I think. After all, my writing career was re-started when I was admin for a vampire game on Facebook (don't bother to look for it, I no longer play the game).
Dusty is approached by a vampire and asked to help. There's way more to the vampire's tale than at first seems, which makes for another interesting read.

The next Dusty tale is a free download. I wrote it with the specific aim of putting it into Gingernut Books' Newsletter (click the link at the bottom of the page) and you can still get the story.
Dusty meets Santa in this story. As I wrote it, I wrapped it around one of my favourite Christmas poems - The Night Before Christmas. I had a lot of fun with that short story and it fits in well with Dusty and how she's developing as a character.

The fifth in Dusty's repertoire has just been released. Dusty's Doppelganger was as much fun as the rest have been to write.
I didn't find much by way of research on the doppelganger myth but what I could remember from childhood stories have been supplemented by my trusty fall-back option - I made stuff up!

I'm in the middle of writing Dusty's sixth adventure - it doesn't even have a working title yet - and it's still fun. I'll keep you updated on her adventures and possibly, later this year, maybe Dusty's seventh will hit the shelves running - as a full length novel.

Thanks for reading!

On a cold and frosty morning...

2012-01-17T00:31:00.000-08:00

January - cold, sharp mornings with frost thick on every surface. It makes the world seem clean and fresh even though everything is dead - no, not dead, but slumbering. Twice this week I've been at my computer as the sun broke through and banished the night time - I can't say I'm a big fan of early mornings but I suppose if I've been woken up (by the screaming child next door - again) then I must make the most of it.

As this new year begins, I'm thinking of what it's going to bring with it this time. I know that we are going to have a few great upheavals in our lives as a family, we're having a new addition in May for one thing. But personally, my writing career seems to be on the very edge of something big and I can't help being excited. Before you ask, no, Hollywood hasn't called and neither has an agent or publisher - that's not what I'm excited about. I can't put my finger on it, there's just something in the air I think... Movies, Magazines, Newsletters - all are opportunities to be spotted and grasped and I've met some inspiring people along my journey so I'm ever hopeful.

I've had a few wobbly days just lately, days where I seemed to have had so much to do, so many things that I could be getting on with that I didn't know where to start, which one to begin, and so I started a few different projects and finished none to any kind of satisfaction. I know what I have to do today and I shall finish all three of those writing projects.

Then I shall tidy the bathroom...

Wish me luck.

New Year still?

2012-01-15T04:12:00.000-08:00

Last night I went to a party I greeted some of my friends with Happy New Year and the discussion began: When do we stop saying Happy New Year?
Is it once the first few weeks are done with, when January is over or when you've wished all of your friends and family a Happy New Year?

I think I'm just about done with my own personal Happy New Years for this year except for you, my blog followers -

Happy New Year to you all :)

Suky - I'm not sure if this will be a novel or short story yet...

2011-12-28T05:47:00.000-08:00

She stood at the top of the stone parapet, right at the very highest point of the bridge. She looked up at the stars because she dare not look down. Her heart was thumping in her chest, her hair was streaming out around her, buffeted by the wind and sometimes swirling around her face. Once she shook her head in order to get the hair from her mouth and she wobbled on her unsteady legs, she would not try that again.

Her clothes were being tugged and pulled by the wind as though by invisible fingers and gusts threatened to topple her from her precarious perch.

She thought about the reasons that she had climbed to the highest point that she had ever been to and whether they made sense to her still. They had made sense when she was preparing herself, they had made sense whilst she had been climbing and now, now that she was finally at the fork in the road that would send her onto one or another of the two separate paths in her life, she thought again on the reasons that she had decided to put an end to her present life.

Family, she had none. The job she worked at was no kind of career and though it was deemed that she had been very fortunate to secure herself a place as scullery maid without so much as a reference, she found that the other maids were snobbish bullies. The male staff members were lecherous pigs and she had neither the strength nor the energy to avoid or refuse their attentions any more. When she had finally succumbed to the attentions of the younger son of the household, she was held in greater disdain than ever before.

She was fortunate to have escaped without an unwanted pregnancy – that much she knew but she was mortified to find that someone had found out about her dalliances. The younger son, the favourite amongst the staff ‘below stairs’ was sent away so that he couldn’t get into more trouble and she was threatened to be sent packing if she so much as showed signs of being with child.

Her terrible and unbearable situation became worse. The maids blamed her for the son’s departure, as did the cook and the butler. Her colleagues had hardly spoken to her before he had been sent away, now, they sent her to Coventry. She was miserable and as such, her work suffered.

The housekeeper had summoned her into her office and told her in no uncertain terms that she had to pull her socks up or be off and on her way with no references.

That had been a little over a month ago and she had tried her very hardest to please everyone but it was impossible.

A few weeks ago, as she lay on her bed, worn out from the day’s work but unable to sleep for her misery; a thought had popped into her head:

“I’ll show them! They’ll be sorry when I’m dead and gone and they’ll know it was their fault.”

The thought was persistent and though she tried to push it away – nothing was bad enough to wish herself dead over, surely – it came back night after night and then it began to appear when she was being snubbed or told off. Then it would appear when she was working at her usual duties and pretty soon, the thought was there as a permanent fixture, running around in her mind. Her ultimate revenge would be her death, her blood on their hands.

Christmas and New Year

2011-12-27T01:30:00.000-08:00

Between the two main celebration nights can seem like a bit of a limbo. OK, there are sales and stuff, other parties etc to go to but between one and the other is always a bit of anti-climax/anticipation for me - it's a feeling that is a bit weird and never happens at any other time of year.

Last year was different, me and my husband were away from home at Christmas and though we had a wonderful time with some fabulous people, it just didn't quiet seem like 'proper' Christmas.

This Christmas has been simply lovely. The day itself was spent with our children and their boyfriend and girlfriend and the day was relaxed, chilled and thoroughly enjoyable.
We didn't open any presents until everyone arrived, mid-afternoon and the anticipation was all the better for it.
The Christmas dinner went very well indeed and I was so well-prepared that I had made a pudding from scratch. It wasn't the usual heavy Christmas pudding that my grandmother used to make, instead I made a delicious panna cotta with rum-soaked sultanas at the bottom - it went down exceptionally well if I do say so myself.

Boxing day was spent shopping for bargains - coats and (more) notebooks - I'm a hoarder when it comes to notebooks. Then we went on to family and friends.

Today will be spent doing what I love - at my computer or in a chair somewhere, writing, jotting down ideas and plots, story structures etc. I truly am blessed that I can do this and I appreciate that everyone that has read my work seems to enjoy the stories. Even when someone doesn't enjoy the story, they still seem able to tell me what they didn't like about it and that helps me to improve my writing in the future.

Now, New Year's Eve... I'm looking forward to it although I haven't made any resolutions yet.

I know one thing... next year's Christmas will be entirely different in our household - there's going to be a new baby and so the cycle starts all over. Christmas will probably not be as relaxed as this one has been - not for a few years to come - and I can't wait!

Wow, this has been a random and rambling blog to get me back into the swing of things... I suppose I have to make a New Year's resolution then - to try to keep this up as a regular thing.

I hope you all had a very Merry Christmas and for New Year? I can only wish one thing:

A Hopeful and Healthy Happy New Year to you all!

Gutted by the ravening horde!

2011-08-01T01:03:00.000-07:00

My target for my novel has been totally scuppered for the moment. On Saturday I was about 800 words behind on my total but I picked that back up on Sunday morning so I was enthusiastic and hopeful for the day.

But it was not to be! The ravening horde that are my neighbours awoke with a bang and a bump and a screaming child and though I tried to concentrate, my office window on the back of the house had to be closed for me not to hear the crying. She's not a happy child it seems and if she is crying then she's screaming. I've witnessed the tantrums as she stands on the back garden, arms folded and stamping her foot on the ground... I mean really?

Anyway, once the child had calmed down, then the drilling started - again. I'm not sure if they are getting rid of all the walls in their house by the "Drill millions of holes until there's a doorway" method but that's what it seems like. For the past 15+ years one neighbour after another has partaken in DIY on that house. If it falls down tomorrow, the demolition report would read DIY'd to death! I'm sure.

Well, I will not be put off on my project. It's all quiet at the moment and I'm going to catch up my word count as much as possible and forge ahead. If I get more than 4000 words done today, I'll be pleased as punch.

30325 before I start today - almost 3000 down but determined! Wish me luck - I'm going in to where the Werewolves live!

Update after the weekend

2011-07-25T05:01:00.000-07:00

I started out with all great expectations on Saturday morning. I was on target and up to date with my writing and I started well but after 2000 words it began to go awry. My neighbours who are not the most considerate bunch on the planet, decided that they really needed to do some DIY so I took a break from writing but they never stopped. So, 1000 words short of my target, I gave in for the day.

On Sunday, I woke up at 6:30, did a little bit of essential housework (washing on lines, I know... I lead such a glamorous life) and then down to writing. I really did crack on and wanted to get caught up and past my target if I could. The ravening horde that are my neighbours did decide to disrupt - kids screeching (I don't know how they stand it... oh hang on, yes I do... they buy lots of toys for the kid and then leave her outside with them and let her tease my dog). Still! I managed to get the task at hand completed AND then went to a Psychic Fair run by Evolved which is headed by Michelle Hare and Lee Roberts and managed to sell three books and give one to St John's Hospice Appeal in Mansfield, Notts.
I won the Teddy draw by guessing the name 'Jack' for the Teddy, I had inspiration from my book, Cruel... and Unusual and I also won a prize on the raffle but because all profits from these events go to Charity, I donated both the teddy and the raffle prize back to be won by someone at the next event.

Then on to this morning's work. I got up again at 6:30 (and believe me, this is a habit that I intend to break ASAP!) and got right on to it. The next door's ravening horde seem to be out and so I'm making hay while the sun shines. I've nipped onto Blogger to write this and keep everyone up to date (thanks for the interest) and then I'll get back to the writing.

Just over 16000 words done of my 18000 target for today and I'm pleased and confident that I'll manage that. I'll be back again possibly on Wednesday to let you all know how it goes. Thanks for watching :)

Hub Pages? Nah, not this time!

2011-07-22T11:03:00.000-07:00

This is the Hub I published earlier today. It has been rejected by hubpages for 'violation' of their Terms of Use... yeah yeah yeah...

Day 2 - 21st July

Well I had a lot of encouragement yesterday because of the Hub and the subject. I'm not sure if everyone believes it will be a success but I'm determined to give it my very best effort.

Yesterday: I wrote around 2600 words on Blood... on the Moon and I 'found' a piece that I'd written a number of weeks ago but I'll not count the 3000 words of that in with my totals as I'm not going to touch that until the editing phase.

I have also got a short story to write for New Writers UK Anthology which is also due to be launched on Oct 7th & 8th at the Book Festival at West Bridgford, Notthingham and last night I wrote 700+ words on that, so in total, 3000+ words were achieved... I hope I'm going to get some slack on my total then?

I am grateful for the encouraging words I've been sent and for the generous offer of a celebratory bottle of champers for the launch event - so thank you for that!

I was writing until 2am this morning and it would seem that sometimes, that's when I do my best work and the time certainly flies in the wee small hours.

Today I have started on my coursework and so I'm pleased with what I've done so far today. I am just about to start writing again and it will probably be another long night.

Shell

If you'd like to see this from the start, here's the first:

http://hubpages.com/hub/Brand-new-project-A-book-written-in-1-month-just-over

The email from Hub pages:

HubPages is not like a traditional blog site, where you publish journal-type entries. Hubs can contain some personal content, but should be interesting, useful, and easily understandable to someone who does not know you personally.

Your Hub has been unpublished, giving you the opportunity to revise it. When you are ready to have HubPages review it again, please edit it and click the "Submit for Publication" button. We will then review your Hub and publish it if it appears finished. You will then get an email saying that the Hub has been cleared for publication and republished.

Here are examples of high-quality Hubs that you might want to take a look at:

I'm not really bothered about looking at 'some other interesting Hubs' I've done some quite nifty ones myself. If the Hub that would have taken a journey towards a finished novel from scratch is not suitable, then PfffffffffffffffffffffffT! I'll publish my journey here and add the link to the Hub page day by day.

In the words of Victor Meldrew "I don't beleeeeeeeeeeeeeve it!"

New Authors

2011-06-13T01:07:00.000-07:00

Over the past few months I have had a real blast! I've met people that have read my book and enjoyed it and I've also met people that have been inspired by my journey to become published. I have not met one nasty or obnoxious person because of my writing and I am very thankful for that.

I have joined a writers group called New Writers UK who are a collection of interesting and diverse people with one important thing in common, they all enjoy helping other new writers. I went to Wookey Hole at Easter for an event that New Writers put on and another event yesterday at Rufford Abbey in Nottinghamshire. They get about a bit and promote their work as a non-profit organisation. On Saturday the Children's Writing Competition for 2011 was launched and it is to be judged at County Hall in Nottingham in October. It is open to children from Nottinghamshire aged 8 - 15 and is growing year on year.

The other Authors I have met lately have been mainly from Facebook and, love it or loathe it, Facebook helps bring like-minded people together if you know where to look.

Help is out there if you want to become published or learn how to edit your work to the standard that publishers want. There is help and advice for all aspects of writing but the best advice I can give, I think, is Dont give up! Keep on writing and honing your craft and ask other people. Writing is a very solitary occupation but you don't have to be solitary all the time.

Last but certainly not least, Glenn and Sherrill are two of the new authors that I have met on Facebook and their novels are linked below.

Thanks for reading,
Shell

Gingernut Books Ltd
Deadlier... and Cruel... signed copies order page

My Amazon page

Glenn 'Alienbutt' Scrimshaw's novel

Sherrill Willis's novel

Deadlier Than The male Excerpt which was not allowed on Hub Pages

2011-03-23T15:48:00.000-07:00

This is the piece that I deleted from my Hub Page because it constantly failed to get through the manual submission part. Apparently it's not 'Original' because it is part of a piece on Writer's Muse website, I was asked to submit a piece of my novel to the site and was most pleased to do so.

This is the part that caused so much trouble on my Hub. I hope you enjoy it.

She moved on again, through the deserted car park. She noticed a lone car - perhaps left by its conscientious driver who had had a drink and left it until the morning. The cynic in her thought otherwise, in a perfect world maybe he had, but more likely, he was too drunk to remember where he had left it.

The open space of the car park gave her a sense of security that she knew would desert her as she approached the alley. There was nowhere to hide in the area surrounding the pub and so she knew he was not so close behind her.

As the distance to the walled passageway was eaten up by her self-assured strides, she started to slow down as though she was trying to delay getting there. Again she hesitated. At the mouth of the alley, she leaned forward just a little as if trying to see around the bend in the middle. Her bag was grasped in one hand and as she leaned forward, it swung against her leg. She looked down as if she had only just noticed it was there. Then, as though deciding that she should make a move before she could scare the living daylights out of herself, she entered the mouth of the narrow and enclosed walkway.

The stalker forced himself to be patient as he waited until she had entered the alley, then he moved - fast and silent - around the perimeter wall. He scaled yet higher walls with ease, running across the tops of them, moving with the agility of a cat to get ahead of her. He had the advantages of surprise and shock and he intended to use them both to maximum effect. His hands flexed as he waited in his chosen position just ahead of his victim, listening for her footfalls.

She tried not to think of the violent and bloody attacks that had happened in the neighbourhood - one a few weeks earlier and another just the previous night. She managed to keep a poker-face as her colleagues delighted in telling her the gory details - exaggerated no doubt, she hoped.

When she told them that she was parked in the same secluded car park as the two victims had been, their humour had turned to concern. Her dismissals of offers to drive her to her car or to accompany her were accepted with reluctance. She thought that acceptance of escort would be seen as weakness. She was probably right.

Reports in the local paper after the first incident had described a woman being attacked and brutalised. One had described the attacked woman as being mauled. A hospital porter had gone to the paper and told of the victim’s hysterical and not-quite-coherent deathbed ramblings about her attacker who slashed and bit with tooth and claw. Last night’s attack was, as yet, unconfirmed by official sources but that didn’t stop gory details circulating along the rumour mills.

Her pace was no longer as brisk as it had been. She was by now, dawdling along the pathway, hesitating more and more as she approached the sharp bend in the path, stopping to look behind time and again.

He heard the sigh of relief when at last she rounded that bend and could see the rear bumper and one light and she knew her car was within reach. Her pace picked up a little and she straightened up, regaining her self-assured stance of before.

She was just two metres from the exit of the alley and no more than four metres from her car. Her keys were already in her hand - as they had been since The Swan. Her guard dropped for a split-second as she made sure it was the right key for the lock.

A split-second was all that was needed to pick off a victim.

He landed in front of her, from the top of the wall.

She was surprised into an exclamation of “Shit!” and she staggered back a few steps to lean against the high sandstone wall.

His grin was full of cruel humour but she tried to return the smile with one of her own. What looked like an attempt at a confident smile did not seem to make her feel any better.

He knew adrenalin would have begun to course through her veins, she looked to have it under control for now, but who knew how long she would manage that? At the very next shock, her whole system would be flooded with it and that would convert her brain into a useless lump of offal. Powerless to think clearly, it would in turn, make her limbs incapable of response – this is the result of the ‘fright’ instinct. Or, she could start punching and kicking and screaming like a banshee – the instinct to ‘fight’. The last alternative would be the ‘flight’ instinct, but she had nowhere to run, he blocked her path to the safety of her car.

He had been the cause and seen the effects of all possibilities and used them many times as tools of his trade.

He studied her for a moment, then he lifted his chin and sniffed, catching her scent – she smelled clean but wore no perfume - a bonus - he preferred that. He half closed his eyes and savoured her scent.

The alley was not very broad, just wide enough to pass another adult in, and he seemed to make the spaces on either side of him appear too small to allow her to get past him.

He spoke first as though this situation was normal: "Hello" he said with a smile, very aware of how attractive he was. “You’re quite fit, aren’t you?”

"What?" She stammered, perplexed at his opening statement. She was still leaning against the wall as though her legs were having difficulty in supporting her. Then, seeming to realise that she already looked like a victim, she pushed herself upright.

She brushed aside his attempt at conversation and said "Excuse me please; I need to go to my car." She raised her hand in indication to the direction she wanted to go.

"Sure" he replied, his smile not wavering as he moved closer to one wall, he knew that the broad smile he flashed, his silk shirt which clung to his muscled torso in all the right places, combined with his slightly exotic features helped to distract females in this situation, it was just one more tool for him to use as he indulged in his favourite nocturnal activity.

There was still not enough room in which to pass without invading what she considered 'his space' and she did not move.

He tipped his head in the direction of the exit, as if to indicate that she was keeping him from his journey.

She appeared wary, but took the hint and started to go forward, not wishing to appear foolish by being scared of this amenable and striking man.

She tensed as she passed him because she knew that he would grab her, yet when he did she was rendered rigid.

With her tucked under his arm like a bundle of laundry - he was deceptively strong, even taking his height into account – he carried her back down the alley with little effort.

He didn't need to cover her mouth; the woman was in shock already and could not even make a murmur, let alone scream. Not like that one bitch last month, she screamed the place down! Still, screaming didn't do her any good, and this one's silence won't save her either.

Hub Pages...

2011-03-19T06:59:00.000-07:00

So, I started a Hub thingie - all well and good... it gets me out there and noticed.

Thing is... I have to make absolutely certain that I don't duplicate my work anywhere else on the net. Not usually a problem unless I'm sharing a piece of my books Deadlier... Than The Male or Cruel... and Unusual with my followers on Goodreads, Facebook or this Blog. Then I get Duplicate at the side of my Hub titles. I may be the only one that sees this, but I'm not sure I like it. It's MY writing, MY work and if I want to put it on my Facebook Notes, my Goodreads Profile and my Blog as well as my Hub then I should be able to. I understand that Hub want original work out there, but my work IS original. It's also MINE!

Book Review Ozzy Osbourne

2011-03-19T06:51:00.000-07:00

Book Review Ozzy Osbourne

Mindscape Magazine

2011-03-18T06:11:00.000-07:00

Mindscape Magazine

Cruel... And Unusual Update

2011-03-05T16:36:00.000-08:00

The release of Cruel... is looming. The cover has been done and approved and things are starting to become exciting again!

Paranormal Haunting, The Curse Of The Blue Moon Inn

2011-03-03T00:05:00.000-08:00

Back on set again for another Phil Gardiner Movie and though the drive was an hour long, I think it will be worth the travel time.

Again, I'm not certain what the movie will be about but I am certain that the Cast and Crew that have gathered together for the movie will put in 100% for the Director Phil Gardiner.

First then, for the oddities - happenings, feelings, occurrences and Accidents!

On the very first scene, first 'Take', Suzy Deakin was badly concussed and cut her head open in a freak accident.

Suzy fell backwards during shooting - it was a tense scene from the outset but when Suzy fell, the tension escalated. The cameras were rolling - two different cameras, controlled by two different people - and nothing was recorded of the accident, it was as though the cameras had not been set rolling, yet the "Rolling" check had been performed.

Filming had to be delayed whilst Suzy recovered. She wanted to continue but it was obvious to both the Director and Producer that she should not attempt to.

Thankfully, after a dizzy spell and blurred vision, Suzy had a good night's sleep and was recovered enough to continue the next day. She said she had a very tender lump on the back of her head and a small cut but things could have been a lot worse!

There have been explosive occurrences off-set as light bulbs blow out in spectacular fashion. According to the Landlady, if there is activity in the lower bar - named JD Bar - then bulbs blow with unnerving frequency. JD Bar is where the Cast and Crew go to chill-out between their scenes. It seems that their presence is enough to upset the other 'residents' and more than one of the crew have felt uncomfortable down there.

There are also frequent 'Cold Spots' reported in different areas of the Pub that's being used for filming.

Just in front of the large bay window in the main room where most of the filming is to take place, a cold area has been witnessed by visitors and crew (myself included) and even though there is a large radiator throwing out heat, the area is cold sometimes but freezing another. The cold could be dismissed as draughts from the old fittings but the cold areas are not always in the same place - differences in wind direction, or something else entirely?

Kerrie's room is 'abruptly cold' as you move from the hall into her room. The cold is almost like a tangible presence even when the room heater is left on.

Amy gets 'bad feelings' in the Function Room, where she is always cold. She does not like the cellar beneath JD Bar due to a previous experience. She describes the cellar as 'Spine-tinglingly eerie'.

Danielle freaked Elle on their first evening as she seemed to develop Succubus Tendencies. In the bedroom that they share with Suzy, Elle was woken by Danielle reaching through the darkness towards her.

Danielle also remembers waking up and wondering why her own arm was reaching over to her colleague...

Suzy tells me that she looked down into the cellar beneath JD Bar and swears that she saw a shadow - no shadow should have been cast down there because the only light source was clearly visible to Suzy but the shadow was cast towards the opening, as though it was lit from inside the cellar itself behind the only light bulb.

Batteries drain unusually fast on occasions and during the filming of one supernatural scene, the smoke machine switched itself on when no-one was near it.

As filming ended, I had a few more tales to tell, such as the one of Tolkein's writing room (yes, that Tolkein). When he wrote of The Green Dragon Inn he told of the place where he did his writing... the same place where filming of Paranormal Haunting is happening.

The father of the Pub's Landlord has done extensive research and has found that the building is many centuries old. There are a number of Ghost Experience groups wanting to investigate and there was also a buzz of excitement as someone from Sky TV was supposed to be contacting them to come and take a look around.

I wish them all the best, I'm not sure that I'd like to live in such an active place after hours... I prefer Spirits that are served in a glass thanks.

For the full credits please visit my Hub:

Links

Production Companies

www.reality-entertainment.com

www.red-sky-productions.webs.com

www.gardinersworld.com

www.chemicalburn.org

www.magimultimedia.com

Actors

Andrew Gough www.andrewgough.com

Suzy Deakin www.facebook.com/suzyCJsexy

Amy Hall www.amylouisehall.webs.com

Kerrie Denning www.kerriejames.co.uk

Melanie Denholme www.facebook.com/manicmel

Elle Wood www.elle-louise-wood.co.uk

Mark Churchill www.markchurchill.com

Robert Feather www.robert-feather.com

Corjan www.corjan.net

Christine Moloney www.myartisyours.co.uk

Steve Mitchell www.facebook.com/SteveMitchellUK

General

www.claireatherton.webs.com

www.martinfaulks.com

www.deadlier-than-the-male.blogspot.com

www.eliteonlinemagazine.com

www.ufomatrix.com

www.mindscapemagazine.com

www.hauntedmagazine.co.uk

Cruel... And Unusual - release date

2011-03-02T21:15:00.001-08:00

We're looking at the 1st or 2nd of April for the release date of my second novel (I may make it the 3rd for my daughter's birthday).

Here's an excerpt from Cruel... I think it captures the dismal conditions the people of Whitechapel lived in. I enjoyed doing research on this particular subject, even though sometimes it was truly horrific reading autopsies on the women that Jack The Ripper slaughtered.

The year was 1888. Summer was just beginning to go into decline to autumn in the English countryside – not that many could tell in this particular corner of England. Here the weather was usually cloaked with smog and the only way to differentiate between summer and winter was by how you shivered, or didn’t. As is the English quirk, the weather was of the utmost importance – even through the stinking, cloying pollution.

On most evenings, visibility was but a few yards in some places. The smell was much, much worse. Coal soot hung in the air, mixing with the dampness in this particularly wet summer. The product of the soot and damp made for a clinging, cloying smog hanging like a pall over the streets and alleys that made up this chosen city of residence.

The additional stench helped to make this part of the city a miserable place to exist for the majority. Sewage and rotting slaughter waste were regular aromas. Little wonder at the population of rats, they thrived. The air just a few feet above their level was almost too thick to breathe.

Fog enveloped shapes and absorbed the little illumination given off by the gas street lamps. Figures loomed into view suddenly or were just as swift to disappear. To be certain of recognition, a person would have to be almost on top of another – unless there was another means of identifying them.

http://hubpages.com/_q25q6vnifnnh/hub/Cruel-and-Unusual-Release-Date

Cruel... and Unusual

2011-01-31T02:56:00.000-08:00

Well I'm finally seeing that light... you know the one I mean - somewhere far off down the dark tunnel... it's either 'the light at the end' or its an express train heading your way!

Although I suppose it could also be a 'Knocker' - a little goblin that inhabits mine workings and performs small acts of mischief.

Cruel has been quite a difficult novel for me to write. The storyline itself was easy but the devil is in the detail so they say. I have had to work the story around lots of hard facts and whilst the research on this has been fascinating, getting the facts and the fiction to adhere to each other has been an experience - one that I am likely to repeat because I'm actually loving this story.

I will not go into the detail too much, save to say that it is based in Victorian England where a small society of Werewolves interacts with humans seamlessly. Then comes the threat to the society in the form of... no, I won't go that far...

Suffice it to say there's a threat in the shape of human Police and human vigilantes drafted in to a small area and if they look too close, they may find exactly what they are not expecting.

If one Werewolf is killed in the 'Age of the Autopsy' when men of science were discovering more about the human body than had yet been discovered, all would be up with their society. They would be revealed as being different to humans and then all hell would break loose and Werewolves cannot afford for that to happen.

At the moment, humans believe Werewolves to be a thing of myth and legend, a make-believe creature and the Werewolves prefer to keep it that way.

Hide in plain sight.

Do not draw the attention of Humes.

Keep ye faithful to the Hierarchy and to the Lycaeon.

Suffer not a Throwback to live.

Someone did not keep to those rules and now Hell is breaking loose.

This is the second in the Werewolf series - the début novel from D Michelle Gent can be found at:

www.gingernutbooks.co.uk

and

Amazon.co.uk

Kaine & Lyllith

2011-01-24T14:42:00.001-08:00

http://hubpages.com/hub/First-Vampires-Kaine-Lyllith-Horror

Shell's Bookshelf: Book Reviews

2011-01-23T13:39:00.000-08:00

Shell's Bookshelf: Book Reviews

http://hubpages.com/profile/Shell_Gent

Book Reviews - Horror Fiction, Vampires, Werewolves, Fantasy Fiction, Novels, Books

2011-01-23T07:42:00.000-08:00

Book Reviews - Horror Fiction, Vampires, Werewolves, Fantasy Fiction, Novels, Books

Book Reviews

2011-01-22T09:27:00.000-08:00

Well I've decided to branch out (not too far to start off with) and I'm going to do a few book reviews online. Just from my own personal collection of course. The first one has to be my own attempt at a novel so here you go:

Werewolf – an unrestrained beast of anarchy or a cold and relentless, calculating killer? If you cannot answer this with absolute certainty, it’s possibly because the werewolf you met is more evolved than man ever dreamed. Werewolves do exist and they exist alongside our society, they have their own rules and hierarchy, they hide in plain sight and have done for millennia. Sometimes, the female of the species is Deadlier... than the male.

This novel, the début from the writer D Michelle Gent, is based in and around Sherwood Forest in England. Though she does not meet up with Robin Hood in her novels, she weaves a thrilling tale of Werewolves that live alongside humans - or as they prefer to call us, 'Humes'.

They have their own hierarchy and Royalty, their own rules and First Laws - which renegade Werewolves disobey at their peril, for overseeing the society as a whole is an army of Sentinels. The Sentinels are charged with keeping Werewolves from making grave errors which will lead to the discovery of their society and then to the eradication of each and every Werewolf, for if Humes knew that there were monsters living amongst them, they would surely hunt them down til none were left to threaten their own society.

Spooky Stuff at The Stone Shoot!

2010-08-17T09:43:00.000-07:00

Slightly off-topic for this one but I've been lucky enough to have been invited to visit (and help on) Phil Gardiner's Movie: The Stone link this week.

Day 1

All going well until Phil left his phone switched on (or was it switched on, as he doesn't normally have it on?) and it started ringing as they were shooting. Phil was puzzled as to why one of the actresses was ringing him when she was not only on set, but being filmed at the time - Layla's name came up on his phone screen, but Layla's phone was also switched off and in her bag - out of the way of filming!

Day 2

All batteries in cameras keep draining inexplicably, a full battery may not last all day, but it should last more than mere minutes! Nik also had a whole batch of batteries go into melt-down. They all leaked and were ruined. These were brand-new batteries.

Simon took a few atmospheric stills of The Hall and saw 'something' in one of the images. He thinks it may reveal itself to be a person when he gets the pics sorted on his computer. We wait with bated breath!

Day 3

Nik was filming upstairs in the Hall and his FULL battery went from Full, down to Half then Quarter in an instant! He replaced the battery, but the camera had moved from being set up for shooting the next scene, he had to re-set the whole shot again. I had been standing right behind him and saw that the shot was in line - before the battery died - to being way too high for the shot after the battery had been replaced. The battery also died without warning - something that never happens on that particular camera, he assured me.
The hairs on both my arms stood on end at one point during the filming and wouldn't lay down even when I rubbed my arms to warm them (I was not cold).

I have been to this location before and was showing Simon the differences between two rooms, both on the front aspect and right next to each other. One is lovely and sunny, warm and inviting even though dilapidated. The room next door had the hairs on both my arms standing on end! It also 'feels' uninviting, even hostile.

There is also a few of the Extras that know of other film shoots that have happened there, their batteries have died inexplicably too... amongst other weird happenings - scenes which were filmed have disappeared once filming has finished... can't be found! I hope it doesn't happen this time, especially after all the hard work everyone has put into it!

Some of the Actors have decided to have a seance this evening, to which I'm invited... I'll keep you posted.

Day 4

One of the lovely Actresses - Jojo, sent this:

Also if your logging weird happenings my mobile wouldn't work all day, people could hear me but I could not hear them, then since I got home its been fine, just thought my phone was broken at first.....spooky

Jojo x

It's getting weirder!

A little bit more... Hazel's first Full Moon!

2010-07-14T08:56:00.001-07:00

The atmosphere in the ballroom was charged with tension. Everyone seemed to be holding their breath, paused and waiting. Hazel did not realise that it was her that they were waiting for.

Luke gently positioned her in the centre of the floor, then, instead of leading her in a dance; he left her on her own and melted into the crowd. The eyes behind each mask were focused on Hazel. Just then, the chandelier started to dim. The crowd started murmuring with controlled excitement.

Suddenly Hazel was aware of growling and snarling. She wondered if there were real animals here in the elegant ballroom, surely not. It took a while to realise that the snarls and growls were coming from her throat.

She felt her skin begin to tingle, the sensation started at her left hand, spreading quickly up her arm, across her chest and down the other arm as well as radiating through her whole body. The sensation was quite pleasant to begin with, but quickly became more intense and very soon was unbearably painful.

She was confused. She rubbed her arms trying to alleviate the tingling, burning sensation as she looked for Luke. She could not recognise anyone under these masks. She turned around and around, trying to find someone that she could distinguish or at least someone who would help her.

Her gown was becoming constrictive, she clawed at it and it tore right down the bodice. She shook herself and the ruins of the dress fell away from her. The mask was pulled off. Hazel could not think straight. Why were all these people surrounding her, crowding round? They were making her angry and defensive.

Hazel snapped at hands and faces that were too close. She was a full Wolf now, on all fours.

The people surrounding her were laughing and taunting her. She did not – could not - understand. She dearly wanted to be outside so she made a break for the glass doors. Unfortunately for Hazel, many hands restrained her. Ropes were put around her neck and were pulled from different directions and so she felt herself trapped, held secure. Still she snapped at anyone that got too close.

After what seemed an age of frenetic fury, Hazel appeared to calm down a little. She allowed the crowd to get closer to where she had lain down. One of the young men who had been taunting her from the start got a little close and, quicker than he could react, she snapped at him without warning. She didn’t go for his hand or face, something that could be pulled away quickly and on instinct, but she went in low and hard, biting almost clean through his calf muscle.

With a triumphant howl she yanked her head back and a piece of flesh came away in her teeth.

In an instant, she was face-to-face with another Wolf. He had changed in front of her eyes. Hazel’s hackles rose even more than they were already. She would not back down.

I'm wondering...

2010-07-09T00:50:00.000-07:00

Should I or shouldn't I post a little of one of my other stories here?

Here goes...

Though he loathed rushing an experiment, he knew that tonight was the optimum time. The full June moon was beginning to wane; it was the last night that he would be able to conduct this experiment for twenty six days.

Thinking quickly as he spied a lone woman, he had to make his move. She seemed to be very drunk and she staggered along holding onto her shawl with one hand and the wall with her other. Her gait was unsteady and her clothes were dirty, shabby and dishevelled. He took one swift look about him to assure himself that there were not many others close by and none that were within a number of yards of her. Steeling himself now that he had made his decision, he stepped out of the shadows. He approached the woman with confidence and took her arm. He led her, unresisting, out of the alley and through another.

“Are you available dear?” He asked her as soon as he was certain that he had not been noticed.

“Eh? Yeah, yes sir, I am at that.” She grinned up at him and he realised that she was older than he had imagined and by God, she smelled rank.

“Good,” he forced his voice to sound amenable, his special and practiced tone - the one that he used on his better class of patient. “But not here, I know a place not far from here.”

“I gots me a place, lovie,” she began to lead him in another direction.

“No, this way, I have the perfect place,” he did not have the perfect place, but he could find it.

...

“Are we ‘ere then lovie?” The crone asked.

“No. Shut up.”

She looked up at him and something about his concentration must have cut through her gin-sodden brain. She pulled from his grasp. “I ain’t stayin’ ‘ere. You’re up to summink. Be off, let me alone!”

In desperation, he drew the cane from its sheath and as she turned to stagger off, he sliced at her back, cutting through the clothing and into her flesh. The blade was as sharp as his surgeon’s tools and for a moment, she thought that he had just grabbed for her and missed. Then with a small groan, she fell to her knees, dropping her ragged shawl as she tried to reach around the back of herself. Blood was soaking her clothes and she was whimpering as she sank onto her front. Her hands were still fluttering around her sides, trying to get to her wound.

...

Then he saw the beast. It was watching him, sitting in a puddle of moonlight as though by intent so that he could see it better. The light slanting from over the rooftops, made almost palpable by the smog which was beginning to thicken. Then the wolf - which he knew to be a Werewolf - spoke. He almost jumped out of his skin. He never imagined that they could speak.

“Well finish it then. Do not let it suffer so. Do not worry; I shall not steal your kill.” The voice was deep and velvety. He could imagine that voice talking to him whilst he allowed its owner to tear out his throat; it was almost hypnotic in the alluring timbre. He thought of deep silky fur enveloping him as he sunk into unfathomable depths to meet with ecstasy, delight and blood. He stayed silent but he did move closer to the beast.

...

This one was a woman. He gasped but waved for the wolf to go forward.

The wolf looked puzzled - and he was bemused at how an animal could look puzzled. Then it shrugged and moved on past him. She positioned herself on the opposite side of the woman’s body so that she could keep a wary eye on him as she devoured the unexpected prize.

“I do not recommend that you stay too long to watch, my friend. I shall be finished here very soon and my appetite is but whetted. Of course, I much prefer the easier prey such as you have kindly furnished me with but rest assured that your blade is no match for my weaponry.”

...

He took the hint and fled. He became happier once he had reached a populated area and he slipped inside the first public house that he came to, to imbibe some spirits to steady his jangling nerves. He was thankful that all he got from the barman was a glass of whisky and an odd look. Jack did not want conversation and the barman seemed to share that sentiment. He did not trust his own voice to be steady at this moment.

This is disturbing...

2010-07-03T12:39:00.000-07:00

There's no wonder that new writers are finding it so very difficult to get even a sniff of a ladder, let alone one foot on the thing!

This article disturbs me.

http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/news/uk/article669160.ece

I think that this practice needs to be seriously looked at! How on earth can new Publishing Houses compete with those kind of shenanigans?

As a writer that is going to Self-Publish, how can I get my book into those shops? The answer is, I can't.

My book may not make the Best Sellers lists but would it have made it there if this kind of thing wasn't happening?

How many really great books are not getting a fair crack of the whip just because the Publisher simply cannot afford to purchase this kind of advertising - and that's exactly what it is - Advertising!

It's like the 'Infomercials' on TV - They should be clearly labelled that they are NOT independently reviewed but bought and paid for!

The public are being shepherded into buying books that are 'great reads' and 'unputdownable page-turners' when in reality they haven't even been read in some cases!

How many times have you bought a book on a store recommendation or because the author is well-known and published lots and then read it, and thought "What a load of rubbish! I could do better!"? I know I have - I did!

It's WRONG and it should be stopped!

Rant over... more later.

Introducing...

2010-05-21T10:17:00.000-07:00

I'd like to introduce you to the first Werewolf in my book 'Deadlier'

"Fuck this," he growled, "you need a fright to get you going!"

With that, he let go of her coat and stood upright, away from her and the wall that he had been trapping her against. He half hoped she would try to make an attempt at escape now that he had let her go.

His full height of six feet, two inches was impressive, as was his body which was sleek and toned under his silk shirt. Her eyes were locked on his as his entire face began to alter. The skin and muscles were independent of the bone structure beneath yet were following the same path. His features rippled as his skin then began to change its texture. He knew what he looked like, he'd spent time practicing this - just like a wanna-be pop star does.

Though rather than dancing around the bedroom with the obligatory make-believe microphone, he had instead watched his own transformation. He had studied this process, studying his own face in the mirror countless times until he had perfected this elaborate and terrifying metamorphosis. He had worked hard for each of his victim’s benefit, making their ordeal as shocking as possible – after all, it would be their last experience.

His forehead changed and flattened - as did the slope of his cranium - the hairline moving forward. At the same instant, his mouth began to protrude from his face, bringing the nose with it and elongating his jaw. The teeth moved by themselves to fill the new jaw, they became longer and pointed – a visible and lethal sharpness as his lips drew back from them. His hairline was continuing forward - like water burbling over shale - down his face, changing texture as it enveloped skin. It passed over his jaw line and down his throat on into the open collar of his shirt. His eyes turned from dark brown to preternatural yellow as the hair sprouted along his lengthened nose. Then as the transformation of his face had finished, his tongue, glistening with saliva, touched the tip of one front fang in a final and theatrical gesture.

The face of the full moon watched over this horrifying tableau and still the woman’s gaze never faltered.

He stood still and quiet for a moment and then, pride and arrogance gleaming in his eyes, continued to set the scene for her.

"I need no introduction; you can see exactly what I am. I belong with the dark terrors that reside in the back of your mind. I am the embodiment of what you humans hope does not exist and try to convince yourselves so, yet still fear is real. I am a Werewolf! My kind have inhabited your stories and nightmares for centuries, you delight in the telling and re-telling of stories which scare you to death and what happens when you encounter such a being? Do you revel in the experience? No, you scream and plead and beg for it not to be so. Well, I fulfil my part of the bargain; I want you to honour your part. All you need to do is make a break for it; your flesh will taste so much better if you pump adrenalin into it." His voice sounded deeper because of his distorted vocal chords.

One more taster...

2010-05-20T14:55:00.001-07:00

A man and a woman arrived at the bar just as Red turned back around. Claire spoke to Red before she did the couple, as she knew Red had been waiting, albeit with her back to the bar.

“Oi! We were here first!” The woman shouted at Claire. Then it was Red’s turn to raise her eyebrow in surprise. “You fucking served her before us last time!” She continued her tirade.

Again, Red shrugged, combined with a gesture that said to serve them first – just for the sake of peace, but Claire didn’t suffer fools gladly. The man barked his drinks order at Claire “Bottle of Bud, Vodka ‘n’ Coke, two Aftershocks!”

“Please.” Claire helped him with his manners. In answer he sneered at her.

Claire arrived back with a bottle for Red before getting their drinks, but Red was still watching the dancing, only half-aware of the fuss at the side of her. Claire tapped Red’s shoulder with the bottle and turned to get Mr & Ms No-manners their order. Red had her hand in her front pocket getting the money out for when Claire got back when the woman at the side of her said to her boyfriend “That arrogant bitch needs pulling down a peg or two!”

Red glanced in their direction as he nodded his agreement. Claire handed them their drinks and took a tenner from him. She collected Red’s money at the same time. Claire watched astonished as the woman tipped her drink down Red’s arm.

The first Red realised of this was that her arm was cold and wet. Red was incredulous as she looked at her dripping arm, then at the woman. She could see by the look on her face that it was no accident.

“What the fuck are you looking at?” The woman said, jerking her head forward with blunt aggression.

Red turned her whole body to face her, she was cool and calm as she switched the bottle from her right to her left hand. She looked again at her wet arm then brushed the liquid from it with her right hand. She brought it up again as if to repeat the motion but instead she snapped her hand back to catch the woman a back-hander across her mouth. The woman staggered a couple of steps towards the dance floor and her boyfriend didn’t miss a beat and punched Red in the face. He caught her below the eye, just on the top of her cheekbone.

Red dropped the bottle and grabbed hold of his throat with her left hand. Her right hand was pulled back, claws already replacing fingernails; instinct was too close to the surface because of the alcohol and caution was abandoned. The music didn’t stop but the dancing did, or at least it moved away from where the trouble was starting. The toes of the man’s shoes were now barely touching the floor. Both hands were scrabbling on Red’s hand, trying to break her grip. His eyeballs were starting to protrude. The doormen had responded to Claire hitting the panic button and were running in. Red registered all of this yet she was taking no notice of it. She was just ready to strike with her right hand when…

Taster

2010-05-15T07:04:00.000-07:00

This is an excerpt from Deadlier.

She stood with her back to the closed doors of the club; it was very late, almost three in the morning. The last punters of the evening had been persuaded to leave through those same doors less than twenty minutes before her. She asked herself, not for the first time; why did she work here of all places? Her feet hurt and she was forever on a knife-edge, waiting for the next incident to go off. Her weekends were never her own and her sleep patterns were shot to pieces and that was after only a month of working at the night-club.

As she looked around, she saw that a prominent police presence was very obvious in the hope that by being there they could prevent the majority of fracas. Paramedics were also in abundance, in case the preventative measure was not enough. The two groups of professionals were the only visibly sober people in the vicinity and they were vastly outnumbered by drunken civilians.

She knew that the market place of this medium sized town would be bustling with late-night revellers, queuing for a late night snack at the burger vans, waiting for the Night Bus or a taxi or just walking home. The weekend started a few hours ago for most of these people and they seemed intent on making the most of it.

The sky was crystal clear, sprinkled with stars and accompanied by the luminous glow of the full moon, giving a stark, sharp feel to objects and shadows alike. The streets were filthy and littered with debris from the multitude of fast food outlets which flanked the clubs and pubs. She decided as she gazed up at the moon that she didn’t want to have to mingle with the drunks when she was sober. She had had enough of them for one evening and so on impulse she went against going the shortest route to her car and took the road less travelled.

Looking both ways, up and down the street, she dodged in front of a slow moving taxi and crossed over at a trot, bearing right. As the majority of the crowds continued straight on towards the hill down to the market, she swung left at the corner where only a small minority were walking. Even so close to the crowds still milling about on the street behind her, she felt an instant ease with the change of pace. She walked fast, overtaking a small group of young men who she remembered being at the same club where she had been working.

“G’night love!” One of them shouted as she had passed, his reactions delayed by the alcohol he had poured down his throat in the few hours he had been out. She didn’t turn back but shouted a cheerful “Goodnight” and waved her hand at them. She walked down the slope, alongside the high and curved retaining wall which supported the railway embankment. The alternative way she had taken was peaceful and she was calming down after the stress of being on the lookout for trouble all the time at the club. Once around the corner and out of sight of the group still behind her, she cut right, taking an unusual route up through an isolated car park which led nowhere at this time of night. In the darkness caused by absence of any working street lights, the moon’s glow cast deeper shadows than the sun and blanched the colour from everything, but the tranquillity she found only added to her calm.

Looming above the car park was the ancient and sturdy brick arches which made up the viaduct for the railway, she once again gazed up at the moon gleaming above the brickwork. Her attention was diverted by movement to the left of her focus. Some fool was playing about on the railway lines, perhaps fulfilling a drunken dare. She figured that unless he was unlucky and fell, he should be ok because the passenger trains didn’t run this late. The only thing he’d have to watch out for was the freight trains which ran all night, albeit at a slower pace. Still, it was not her problem.

Welcome

2010-05-15T06:53:00.000-07:00

As some of my FB friends will already know, I wrote a book and I'm now at the stage where I'm ready for it to be published - even if Agents and Publishers aren't.

Because of my impatient persona (I'll never change) I have decided to take this down the Self Publishing route. I have a number of people to thank for helping me out here.

Trev - Of course, my support for decades now.

Anon - For now, unless she wants to be named.

Marianne - For constant encouragement - we shall meet up one day, I promise.

Nick - For pointing me in a few directions - some good, others not so good but all with learning curves and that's always a good thing.

Netti - Proof reading and sourcing artwork etc.

Right, before I start to sound like I'm accepting an Oscar, I'll leave off, but I'll be adding thanks as and when necessary.

More later,

Shell