Tag Archives: #Indieauthorsrock

A little insight into things to come….

As it’s almost Christmas, I thought I’d share something a little sparkly and new with you this week.

As last week’s poetic blog alluded to, for the past couple of years words haven’t flowed as smoothly as I would like. I’m loathe to describe it as writer’s block as the storylines were still there for my current book baby along with ideas for future book babies. There are a dozen things that I could blame this word drought on but every time I go to type the words here, they sound like excuses to me and I’m not about to make excuses for not being able to park my backside at my desk and write as easily as I have in the past. Life happens and over the past couple of years it has thrown a few roadblocks in the way of creative progress. There’s been a lot of shadow work done in the background to clear the path. Let’s leave that thought there…

Now, I am feeling a little more confident that the word drought is finally over and thought I would share a short excerpt from Book Baby 9. The first draft started out as Book Baby 8 three years ago then, as the words weren’t flowing, I decided to publish Beginnings , my first collection of poems, so it became Book Baby 8 while I pulled it together in early 2024. When I returned to the book baby in the photo above, it naturally evolved into Book Baby 9. My first draft is not quite finished yet but I’m close enough to the end, to feel comfortable enough to share an excerpt from the start with you.

What you see in the photo is what Book Baby 9 looks like at present but there are roughly 30 000 of those words already typed. When I felt that I couldn’t write, I typed instead. It is my intention that Book Baby 9 will finally see the light of day and be set free in 2026. It’s still nameless as I type this and its naked too as I’ve not got as far as thinking about a cover design. All in good time.

For now though, for those who have been waiting so patiently for word of a new novel, here’s a little taster of what’s to come. Be gentle with these words. They are new and at present un-edited.

Streaks of spring sunshine filtered through the trees, casting dappled shadows on the trail as she walked. She had been walking for hours, lost in her grief; lost in her thoughts. Beside her Storm and Lily walked patiently, occasionally touching her hand with their noses as if to say, “We’ve got you.” Both dogs seemed to be empathising with her emotional state.

Ahead of her, further down the trail, she could see the large flat rock at the viewpoint. Trying to gauge how much daylight was left, she decided to rest for a minute or two before walking the last couple of miles back to the studio house.

With a sigh of relief, she sat on top of the rock, drinking in the spectacular view before taking a long chug on her water bottle. At her feet, Lily let out a mournful whine.

“I know how you feel,” she said, reaching out to fondle the wolf dog’s ears. Suddenly, she felt a weight on her thigh at the other side as Storm laid his huge head down, his gaze fixed on her.

“Just give me a minute then we’ll head home. I know you guys are hungry. I am too. Didn’t mean to walk you as far but…oh, you understand, don’t you?”

By the time she reached the final section of the trail the light was fading fast. Dusk had settled quickly as they had descended. In the distance she could just see the twinkling lights that were strung round the patio at the rear of the house, and she thought she could smell a whiff of BBQ on the breeze. Her stomach rumbled at the thought of food. Breakfast had been her last meal and, apart from a few fruit snacks, she hadn’t eaten all day.

“Ah, Miss Johnson, I presume,” quipped JJ from his reclined position on the hammock. “I thought you’d got lost.”

“Sorry,” apologised Riley quietly as she sat her empty water bottled on the table. “I didn’t mean to be gone all day.”

“No harm done” he said, wriggling to sit up and get his feet on the ground before the hammock tipped him out. As he stood up, JJ said, “I’ll sort the dogs and you can start dinner. The chicken skewers are in the refrigerator.”

“Sure. These guys have been good company today, but they must be starving. I’d guess we’ve walked about fifteen miles.”

“Easily done when you’re following your thoughts as well as the trail,” he commented. Snapping his fingers, he called the dogs to heel and led them round to their enclosure.

Soon Riley had the chicken kebabs on the grill and the table set for supper. She had fetched some salad and coleslaw along with a bag of tortilla chips plus plates and cutlery.

“Smells good,” complimented JJ stepping back out of the house. “Dogs are settled for the night. They were ravenous. I guess they didn’t hunt while they were with you. Storm usually snags a rabbit or two on a long hike.”

“Poor babies,” said Riley turning the skewers on the grill. “They’ll sleep well after that.”

“But will you?” he asked, handing her a beer.

“I hope so. I barely slept a wink last night.”

“You want to talk, Miss Riley?” prompted JJ softly.

Busying herself transferring the chicken onto a serving plate, the little green haired girl dodged the question until they were seated at the table. Keeping her gaze on the plate in front of her, Riley said, “I know he was old. I’d guessed he was sicker than he was letting on. Recognised the look in his eyes. My Grammy had that same look.  Wish I’d had the chance to thank him and say goodbye.”

Tears fell onto her plate as her grief crashed through her.

Where do I do it? … a question from an indie author

For the past seven years my cluttered creative corner of the house has been my beloved writing desk in the corner of the living room

Those who have followed this blog for a long time may remember that I blogged about moving from the kitchen into the living room when that change was forced upon me thanks to a new car and a repositioning of the freezer. (Eviction Notice Served …… | Coral McCallum –  in case you missed it)

Over the next two years, I grew to love my creative corner in the living room. The words flowed as freely as they had when my desk was the table in the corner of the kitchen.

Then Covid came along and with it that brought the necessity to work from home. At that point in time The Big Green Gummi Bear was also working from home and had based himself in the study so with no other choice, my creative space became my work space during the day and then returned to being my creative space a night. Like every other scenario we were faced with, I made it work as best as I could.

A few months later The Big Green Gummi Bear fell ill (terminal brain tumour) and for the next three years, I continued to work from home fulltime, working at my desk during the day then switching laptops at the end of the day to restore it as my creative space at night. The study became The Big Green Gummi Bear’s “bat cave” where he whiled away many hours with YouTube videos and films. I made it work as best as I could.

After The Big Green Gummi Bear passed away in late October 2023, when I was ready to return to work I had the choice of where to work when I was working from home. I could go into his “bat cave” or stay where I was in the corner of the living room. Emotionally I knew there was only one option I could cope with. For over nine months, I chose to stay in the living room. This worked for the day job, but it was no longer working for the me creatively in the evenings.

Let’s face it, by this time, I’d spent about sixteen hours a day most days for over four years in the living room. I was sick of the sight of it! It had begun to feel like a prison cell.

Creatively, the words refused to flow and that frustrated me…and scared me a little. Could I still do it?

About a year ago, I finally felt emotionally ready to claim the “bat cave” as my own and moved up there to work during the day. I’ll not lie it took a long while before I was comfortable being in that small room for more than a few minutes at a time.  Bereavement does strange things to a person.

My writing desk in the living room became my creative space once again…but the room still felt like a prison cell. The words began to flow a little more freely but overall, it still didn’t feel right.

I persevered then made a decision. It was time for another change.

A couple of weeks ago, I finally had the room re-painted. Gone were the candle soot-stained peach walls, replaced with a fresh clean silvery blue shade called Frost Fairy. New curtains were bought and hung. A new sound system was added as some of the speakers in the old one had long since given up the ghost. I de-cluttered the room. I tidied out my desk and de-cluttered the top if it, only retaining a few of the things that had previously sat there. I added a stunning new crystal sphere (poppy jasper and flower agate – just in case you were curious). Gone was the old uncomfortable chair. I replaced it with a nice new kneeling chair. I’ve always wanted one of those!

I’m viewing this as a much-needed creative re-boot.

The smell of paint still lingers in the air and perhaps it’s a little too soon to be sure, but I feel more confident now that the words that have been desperate to be set free will once again start to flow.

Time will tell….

How do I do it?…. a question from an indie author

The letters will fall into place to make words.

The words will group together to form sentences.

The sentences gather to form paragraphs.

The paragraphs will flourish and bloom into chapters.

Then the chapters will blossom into your book.

And it all began with a single letter…..

Silver Lake Book Tour 2025

Part of the beauty of visiting Rehoboth Beach, DE, where my Silver Lake series is largely set, is visiting places that appear in the books.

I was fortunate enough last summer to visit several of them and to revisit many of those again this year but a dull day that threatened the area with rain gave me the opportunity to visit one about 12 miles out of town.

For those of you who have read the entire series, you may recall Jethro taking Jake for a nature trail walk in Shattered Hearts, book 4 in the series.

For those who haven’t read the books, here’s an extract that mentions my destination for the day –

He barely registered what direction they were travelling in and only realised that the car had stopped when Jethro declared. “We’re here. Let’s walk.”

“Where are we?” asked Jake, gazing round as he climbed out of the car.

“Prime Hook National Wildlife Refuge,” replied Jethro as he locked the car. “Lots of nice peaceful trails to walk. A good place to walk and talk without interruptions.”

“Don’t think I’ve ever been out here,” mused Jake. “Might have been here on a field trip as a kid.”

“Follow the signs for the Pine Grove Trail,” instructed Jethro, pointing to a path that led into the trees.

Nodding, Jake stuffed his hands in his pockets and set off along the trail. With dry crisp leaves crunching beneath their feet, they walked in silence for a few minutes. Around them, they could hear birds in the trees. Giving nature’s magic time to relax Jake a little, Jethro bided his time before saying, “If the story Jim and Grey told me is accurate, when we get back to the studio, we are calling the police, son.”

Jake merely shrugged his shoulders.

Prime Hook National Wildlife Refuge is a 10 000-acre sanctuary for migratory birds. It was established in 1963 by President John F Kennedy and contains a wide variety of natural habitats including freshwater and salt marshes. There’s woodlands and grasslands and ponds that among them are home to around 270 species of birds, reptiles, amphibians and mammals… and insects that bite!

It’s a vast site and to do it justice you really would need several hours to explore.

In Shattered Hearts, I mentioned on specific area –

They walked on towards Fleetwood Pond in silence. As the still pond came into sight, Jake said, “The day that hornet stung me, she was out at JJL.”

By sheer luck, we parked at the spot that natural routed to Fleetwood Pond!

I didn’t have the luxury of a whole day to explore sadly. Instead, I had a couple of hours to walk the trails, keeping my eyes peeled for wildlife. Like my trip to Gordon’s Pond last year, I encountered a problem. Most of the seabirds seemed to be MIA. I did see an osprey soaring overhead, quietly surveying its territory. There were numerous dragonflies flitting about. In the bushes beside the pond, small birds were singing. In the woodland areas, there were deer quietly going about their day.

It really was the perfect location to meander and to think.

I could almost hear Jake and Jethro ahead of me on the trail.

There was one essential item that I forgot to take with me. Bug spray!

Let’s just say that the mosquitos at Prime Hook fed well on Scottish blood that day!

For more info on Prime Hook please see link below-

Prime Hook National Wildlife Refuge | U.S. Fish & Wildlife Service

If you’ve not caught up with the Silver Lake series yet, the books can be ordered worldwide using the links below

Amazon.com links –

Stronger Within – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B00VXDSC1M

Impossible Depths – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01C0GS30K

Bonded Souls – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B06XSQHG71

Shattered Hearts – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07ZY8ZSDM

Long Shadows – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08RR1FGLG

Amazon.co.uk links  –

Stronger Within – https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00VXDSC1M

Impossible Depths – https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B01C0GS30K

Bonded Souls – https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B06XSQHG71

Shattered Hearts – https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B07ZY8ZSDM

Long Shadows – https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B08RR1FGLG

Meet The Author 2025 – pt 3

A lotus flower

The last few years have been beyond challenging on a personal level and in a creative sense as time moved on I became further and further stuck in the mud and the words refused to flow freely. Now, over the past few months, the lotus blossom is slowly emerging from the mud and the words are beginning to flow. I’m hoping in time to see the lotus bloom in time🪷

I’ve thought about this one on and off all day. .. 🤔

I’ve always been open on my Author page and my blog about myself so it’s beyond difficult to think of something that I’ve not already shared

As its mental health awareness week, it feels right to say that my key coping mechanism is journaling. I’ve kept a daily diary since 1982 but over recent years have journaled extensively. Maybe one day I’ll share them with the world.

I get the most support from my friends and family. Without my Infamous Five I wouldn’t have got this far. I draw support from this Facebook author community and from the lovely reviews that are left online for my book babies. Those honest words help to fuel the fire of my creativity.

The dream would be to see my books on the shelves in bookstores.

For now the immediate dream is to get book baby 9 over the line. It’s getting there but it’s just taking more time than I’d like.

Oh…. 🤔

Respected, entertaining and heartfelt

As for where you can find more of my words….Amazon or here on my blog 😀

Meet the Writer 2025 – pt 2

Oh good question! Being settled at my writing desk after dinner with my favourite playlist on definitely helps. Thinking through what I plan to write while I’m out walking also helps. If I’m not in the mood to work on my current book baby, I’ll write something else but I try to always write something daily

Music, the beach, love….

These are the themes at the heart of all my book babies so far along with believable characters for you to fall in love with.

Oh this is a cruel question.

In all honesty, I’m happy at having written my own. I’m me so why would I want to have written anyone else’s? I might only earn pennies in royalties most months but I’m proud to have written my own books and to have told my stories

A friend shared the photo below on their Facebook feed as I was starting my writing journey 12 years ago and it struck a chord. It’s been my mantra ever since.

I think the answer to this depends on where you consider to be unusual. I’ve written at work in my lunchbreak, on trains and planes, in the airport, on the beach and in cafes too. All felt normal to me.

to be continued….

Silently Watching As The Rose Moon Wanes

Disregarding the risks, the dark angel landed lightly in front of her mausoleum. The previous enchantment that had held her captive there had long since been lifted but she still scanned the area for magical wards as a precautionary measure.

“Careless, Son of Perran,” she muttered under her breath. “Very careless.”

Once inside the tomb, Anna wove a seal around the entrance to keep her safe from prying eyes. With a click of her fingers, she lit the wall sconces, the flames instantly creating some flickering light and dancing shadows. Looking round, she saw that all of her hiding places had been discovered and most of her possessions taken, with the exception of the few things strewn across the floor.

With a sigh that reeked of melancholy, the dark angel sat down on the stone bench seat and drew her cloak around her. After the events of the past few months, she needed time and peace to think. She had fed before returning to her home but knew that the remnants of her meal would soon be discovered, limiting her time for contemplation. It had been a tempting thought to make her victim a vampire to give her some company, but she lacked the energy to nurture a fledgling and the patience to train one. Instead, she had left the fisherman’s body floating face down in the small, isolated loch. His passing resemblance to Jem was what had attracted her to him, his blood satisfying her thirst.

Reaching into the folds of her cloak, Anna pulled out a purple leatherbound book and smiled to herself. She had hidden her grimoire inside herself when she had first been captured. One swift spell had prevented it from falling into Meryn’s meddlesome hands. Over the years, she had worked hard to enhance the spells that were recorded in her mother’s grimoire, creating her own strain of dark magic. Now though, she had no one to pass that knowledge on to… except for Luna.

Gifting the baby her mother’s spell book had been a risk, a necessary risk. Eventually little Luna would grow up and inherit Meryn’s grimoire, Trine’s if she had one plus her own. Assuming the little girl worked on her own grimoire too, it would make Luna the most powerful vampire with magic powers that the world had ever seen.

Now all she needed to do was figure out a way to be involved in the little girl’s education.

On the eve of the summer solstice, Meryn prepared to take her leave. She had stayed on at the beach hut after Michael had departed to help Trine and Jem reinforce the enchantments around their home. The three vampires had combined their powers and created wards in the surrounding area that would trigger if a vampire or any creature capable of magic came near. They had even gone as far as creating protective wards out in the river. As a result, the beach hut was as impenetrable as Stefan’s castle.

“Do you need to go?” asked Trine quietly. “We’ve room. You could stay here for the summer with us.”

“And who would keep an eye on your father if I stayed?” laughed Meryn, reaching out to hug the younger woman. “We already agree that you would all winter with me. Come for Samhain. There are some lessons for you to learn that will help you to teach Luna the arts.”

“You are not teaching our daughter magic,” stated Jem firmly. He was holding Luna balanced on his hip and the baby was reaching out to pull at his wings.

“Jeremiah,” began his mother just as firmly. “Your daughter has magic flowing through her veins. She needs to be taught how to master it before it controls her. Both you and Trine need to be taught how to teach her.”

“And if we refuse, mother?” he challenged.

“Then the little girl you are holding in your arms could grow up to be more dangerous and out of control than Anna.”

“But she’s a baby,” protested Trine.

“How do you think that doll fell off the shelf onto the floor yesterday? Or how did those soft play cubes find their way into her cot?” countered Meryn. “Luna is a natural witch and a natural vampire. The Cinque Famiglia bloodline is powerful. She’s already testing her powers. She can’t help it. Its instinctive to her.”

Both Jem and Trine turned to star at each other, both terrified by what they were hearing.

“I’ll see you in time for Samhain,” continued Meryn as she opened the door. “If you need me before then, send for me.”

Before either of them could reply, the older vampiress stepped outside, closing the door behind her.

A huge crow sat in the trees to the east of the beach hut. It was perched high up in the branches out of sight as it watched Meryn disappear into the night.

Silently Watching Under a Rose Moon

A huge crow sat in the trees to the east of the beach hut. It was perched high up among the branches out of sight.

The light summer evenings were Jem’s favourite time of year, but they also presented him with the biggest challenge. A lack of darkness made it difficult to hunt and to run undetected. As he stood in the doorway of the beach hut after the sun had set, he had a burning desire to do both.

They had been back at the beach hut for a couple of weeks and novelty of being able to come and go as he pleased again hadn’t worn off. If Stefan had been allowed to have his way, they would still be trapped back at the castle. He was grateful to his mother who had eventually intervened on their behalf and convinced Stefan to let them return home.

Behind him, Jem could hear Luna crying. She was teething and nothing was settling her for long. At almost nine months old, the baby was quite clingy to Trine making it hard for her to find time to hunt. Knowing how challenging things were for his mate made Jem feel a twinge of guilt about heading out for a few hours.

Drawing his wings about him, Jem transported himself up into the hills behind the village. He touched down lightly near a stand of pine trees, checked around him for any obvious signs of danger then set off along a forestry track at a fast pace. A run first then he would hunt.

Ever since his mother had injected him with her potion, his Rabbia Sanguigna had remained quiet. He hadn’t felt the urge to savour human blood for months. While they had been confined to the castle, she had insisted that he still take some every week but he hadn’t had any since they had returned home. In his heart, he hoped that her cure had worked, He had no stomach for taking any more human lives.

A few miles from where he had started his late-night run, Jem paused, sensing movement in the air. His eyes were drawn towards an old, abandoned bothy off to the right. Something about the semi-derelict building felt off. Curiosity got the better of common sense and he turned off the trail to investigate. When he reached the low crumbling building, he gently pushed the front door open. The wood was so split and rotten that Jem was afraid it would disintegrate if he used too much force.

Death and decay filled the building’s single room. Quickly, his eyes became accustomed to the dark and he spotted something lying awkwardly in corner beside the fireplace. It was a body, a male body. Its features were barely recognisable. Off to the side lay a large stone with dried blood and clumps of hair stuck to it. Whoever the man had been, he’d been beaten to death, his skull smashed to pulp by the rock. Taking a closer look, Jem recognised that the man was wearing a prison uniform, a Level Zero uniform. With a feeling of dread, he realised that he was looking at David, the prisoner who had escaped at the same time as Anna. Something was clutched in the corpse’s fist. Carefully, Jem pried open the decaying finger. Three feathers fluttered to the ground. Black feathers with purple tips…Anna’s.

“Fuck,” he muttered, slipping the feathers into his pocket.

Staring down at the dead vampire, Jem acknowledged that he couldn’t risk leaving him there. He couldn’t take him back to the beach hut. Somehow, he had to get him back to the castle.

“Mother,” he thought, focussing his mind on an image of Meryn. “Mother!”

“No need to shout, Jeremiah,” she scolded him, her voice crystal clear in his thoughts.

“I’ve found David. The missing prisoner. He’s dead.”

“Where?”

“In an abandoned bothy a few miles from the beach hut,” replied Jem silently. “He had some of Anna’s wing feathers in his hand. His skull has been smashed with a rock. I need to know what to do about the body. We can’t risk humans finding him here.”

“Stay there. I’ll send someone to fetch him,” instructed Meryn.

Unable to stomach the smell any longer, Jem stepped back outside, immediately taking a deep breath of fresh cool night air. Scanning the surrounding landscape, he wondered if Anna was out there somewhere watching him. All he could see was heather and gorse and long grass. There were no obvious hiding places for her. A chill ran through him at the simple thought that the dark angel had been this close to his home and his family.

A few minutes later, he sensed a movement nearby and seconds later Michael, accompanied by two Level Zero guards appeared round the side of the building.

“Jem,” greeted Michael calmly. “I got your message. Where is he?”

“Inside,” replied Jem, reluctant to go back into the bothy.

Michael signalled to the two guards to retrieve the body then turned back to Jem, “Tell me how you found him? You’re a long way from your beach house.”

“I transported myself here to run and to hunt. I usually do. When I reached here, something felt off. I saw the bothy. Went inside and he was just lying there,” explained Jem. Reaching into his pocket, he produced two of the three feathers. “These were in his hand.”

“Anna,” stated Michael as he took the feathers. “Have you seen or heard from her?”

Jem shook his head. “There’s been no sign of her. We’ve been extra vigilant.”

“Stefan’s going to want you back at the castle after this,” commented Michael. “He has a duty to protect your bloodline.”

“We’re staying here.”

“That might not be your choice to make, Jem.”

“I’m head of the Cinque Famiglia apparently so I say we’re staying here.”

“To be honest,” began Michael. “I’d feel the same. I’ll try to persuade Stefan to let you stay here. If there’s any suggestion that she’s here though you need to let us know immediately. I know she created you but she’s dangerous. Very dangerous and unpredictable.”

“I know.”

Behind them, the two guards emerged carrying a body bag between them.

“Master Michael,” began one of them. “The prisoner David has been drained of blood. If Anna killed him, I think she fed from him too.”

“Shit,” muttered Michael.

“If she fed from him, would that not make her ill?” questioned Jem, trying to recall the vampire history lessons Trine and Meryn had drummed into him.

“Not if she mated with him first,” replied Michael. “We need to get him back.”

“Of course,” nodded Jem. “If I see or hear from her, I’ll be in touch via my mother.”

“Be careful, Jem. No risks.”

“I hear you.”


After Michael and the guards left, Jem stood leaning against the stone cottage gazing out over the moorland. Knowing that the dark angel was out there somewhere was making him anxious. Why had she risked coming back here?

It was almost dawn by the time he returned to the beach hut. He had come upon several deer grazing near a patch of woodland and had fed from one before killing a second, draining its blood into the flasks he carried to help feed Luna. Raising a vampire baby was proving to be more complicated than raising his human children had been. The baby needed her mother’s milk and blood to thrive. It would be several years before they would be able to start teaching her how to hunt for herself. Until then, he needed to split the hunting duties with Trine.

When he entered the hut, he found Trine sitting by the wood burner with Luna cradled in her arms.

“I was beginning to get worried,” Trine confessed, an anxious furrow knitted into her brow. “I expected you back hours ago.”

“I went for a long run first,” replied Jem, deciding against mentioning finding the dead escaped prisoner. “Took me a while to find some deer too.”

He passed her the two flasks that he’d filled. “And how has our little princess been?”

“Grumpy,” stated Trine. “I think she’s teething. I can see the tooth just below her gums. Hopefully the blood will settle her for a few hours.”

“I could try to find something to help in one of the shops,” offered Jem. “I remember there was a gel that helped…” He faltered then added, “Before.”

“I’ll try anything,” admitted Trine wearily as she reached for his hand. “You miss them, don’t you?”

Jem nodded but remained silent.

“You can talk to me about your previous life, you know,” persisted Trine softly.

“I know,” he acknowledged, running his hand through his hair. “It’s easier not to. I’ll go and see if I can get something to help her gums. I’ll be back.”

“Be careful. It’s getting light outside. Maybe you should wait until tonight.”

“Perhaps,” he agreed.

“Go and rest. I’ll feed Luna and join you as soon as she’s asleep.”

Alone in the bedroom, Jem removed the feather from his pocket and lay on the bed twirling it round between his fingers. An uneasy feeling had settled over him and he couldn’t shift it. With a sigh, he opened the drawer in the bedside cabinet and slipped the feather under a book that he had been reading on and off for years then closed the drawer.

A tiny mouse squeezed under the door to the beach hut, pushing a pearly black, blue and white pebble ahead of it. With great determination, the small rodent guided the stone through the hut and down to Luna’s nursery where it managed to climb up and push the pebble under the mattress of her cot. Silently the mouse disappeared back the same way it had come.

In the week leading up to the full Rose moon, life settled into a gentle routine around the beach hut as Jem and Trine shared the chores and parenting duties. Luna’s tooth had popped through and as result she had been more even tempered. Their evenings and nights were busy; their days were spent sleeping or safely indoors out of sight of the dog walkers, runners and cyclists who formed a parade past the hut as they travelled along the narrow coastal path. With some guidance from Meryn, they placed a cloaking spell around the hut that made it look deserted to any casual observer. The spell also soundproofed their home and prevented Luna’s cries from attracting any unwanted attention.

For the first time since Luna’s naming day, they felt safe. So caught up was he in domestic bliss that Jem all but forgot about the feather he had hidden in the nightstand and the dark angel’s presence.

“Jem!”, called through Trine. “Did you bring in more logs yet?”

“No,” he called back from the bedroom.

“I asked you to do it this morning,” replied his mate sounding frustrated. “In fact, I asked you to do it yesterday too.”

“Trine,” stared Jem striding through to the living room. “You’ve not asked me to fetch logs. You sent me off in search of horse blood for Luna.”

“No, I never.”

A cold chill crept over Jem as he began to sense what was going on.

“Did you send me out to grab more nappies last night?”

“No!” retorted Trine sharply. “Why would I? We agreed I could hunt last night, and you’d stay with Luna.”

“Fuck!” roared Jem, running his hands through his hair. “I need to reach out to Meryn. Where’s Luna?”

“Napping downstairs in her cot. I just checked in on her.”

“Check on her again and bring her upstairs until my mother gets here,” instructed Jem firmly.

Without questioning him, Trine ran down the narrow staircase, her wing tips catching on the edge of each tread.

Focussing inwards, Jem reached out to connect telepathically with his mother. Initially he sensed her blocking charms, but he persisted, silently yelling her name.

“This better be important, Jeremiah!” Her voice reverberated through his mind.

“It is.  I need you here now. I think Anna’s been shapeshifting. She’s been in the house,” he revealed, trying to keep the rising panic out of his words. “Bring Michael with you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive. Bring Michael and hurry.”

Shortly before midnight, there was a rustling noise outside the beach hut followed by a sharp knock at the door. When he saw his mother and Michael outside, Jem let out a long sigh of relief. Within a few minutes they were all seated in the small living room with a glass of blood infused wine.

“Start from the beginning,” encouraged Meryn, reaching out to take her squirming granddaughter into her lap. “Don’t leave anything out.”

Avoiding Trine’s gaze, Jem explained about going for a run and finding David’s body with the purple tipped feathers clutched in his hand. Sheepishly, he confessed that he had kept one of the feathers.

“Why?” asked Trine quietly.

“I don’t know,” admitted Jem with a shrug of his shoulders.

“She’s his maker, Trine,” reminded Michael calmly. “There are blood ties that Jem can’t undo and emotions that he can’t help but feel.”

“Michael’s right,” added Meryn. “Do you still have the feather?”

Jem nodded.

“Good. We might need it,” stated Meryn. “Has anything gone missing or turned up unexpectedly in the house?”

“Nothing we’ve noticed,” replied Trine, looking round the room.

“What about in Luna’s nursery?”

“Come and check for yourself,” invited Trine, getting to her feet.

Still holding the baby, Meryn scanned the nursery using her highly tuned intuitive senses. Her attention was drawn to the baby’s cot.

“Jem, lift the mattress please,” she instructed, her senses twitching.

Having tossed the baby’s soft toys onto the floor, Jem pulled out the mattress and bedding. In the corner, balanced on the wooden slat sat a crystal that shimmered blue and green.

“Where did that come from?” he asked, looking at Trine. “Did you put it there?”

Trine shook her head as she reached through the bars of the cot and picked up the stone. “Labradorite?”

“Yes,” confirmed Meryn. “A good choice to be fair.”

“Was it meant to harm Luna?” demanded Jem sharply.

“No,” replied Meryn instantly. “My guess is that Anna wants to awaken Luna’s natural magic. Labradorite heightens intuition and encourages psychic development. It’s essentially a stone of protection. I don’t believe she means to harm Luna.”

“She wants to teach her,” whispered Trine a realisation creeping over her. “First the grimoire and now the crystal.”

“That would be my guess too,” agreed Meryn, looking round the room.

A book on the wooden wall mounted shelf caught her eye. It’s creamy coloured cover appeared to shimmer making it stand out from the story books around it.

“Michael,” began Meryn. “Can you bring me the cream-coloured book from the shelf, please? Second last one on the left.”

Reaching for it, Michael lifted the small leather-bound book down and examined it. He flicked through the pages then looked up, a puzzled expression on his face, “It’s blank. Nothing in it. “

“Yet,” added Meryn cryptically.

“Yet?” echoed Jem feeling totally confused about where the strange book had come from.

“It’s Luna’s grimoire, isn’t it?” asked Trine taking the book from Michael.

Meryn nodded.

A huge crow sat in the trees to the east of the beach hut. It was perched high up in the leaves out of sight as the full Rose moon shimmered casting a bright creamy trail across the river.                         

Meet the Writer 2025 – part 1

For the third year in succession, I recently took part in Beth Kempton’s Meet the Writer online challenge. Fifteen prompts/questions over fifteen days that will hopefully give you a bit of an insight into my creative world. As before I’ll split this across three blogs.

I love creating and developing my characters and getting to know them. I love creating their world. In my current work in progress, I’ve enjoyed losing myself in my fictitious view of the San Bernadino mountains. It gives me somewhere to escape to as I write and takes me away from my day-to-day mundane world. I hope in time my readers will enjoy escaping into the mountains too.

Much as I love to sit outdoors and write, this is my usual cluttered creative corner. My traditional writing desk sits in the corner of my living room. I upgraded to this a few years back. Before that I sat at my kitchen table to work.

Evenings have evolved to become my writing time. I endeavour to carve out a couple of hours a night during the week and take what I can manage at the weekends. I journal daily and keep a diary so there’s some form of writing involved in every single day

I love writing in any season but as the days grow warmer and the nights are lighter, I love being able to write outdoors.

If I’m writing a novel I need 5 identical notebooks so that the first draft is all in books the same. I like turquoise, pink or purple ink to write with unless I’m writing my Silently Watching vampire angel tale. I’m that case the notebooks and ink should be green. Poems and blogs I tend to write in pencil. I also need Alexa or some source of music nearby

to be continued….

Continue the Story…Dawn (flash fiction)

She jumped from the train, rolling in the dust before coming to a stop. A sharp pain shot through her right ankle. Breathing heavily, she reached down and rubbed it as she flexed her foot. It didn’t appear to be broken. With a groan, she clambered to her feet, testing her weight on her throbbing ankle gingerly. Her backpack had come to rest about a hundred metres back down the track. Seconds before she jumped, she had thrown it out, knowing that her desire not to lose it would give her that final boost of confidence to make the leap.

Her heart was still pounding as she limped back up the track to retrieve it. As she hoisted it onto her back, she looked around her. Nothing but fields to be seen for miles. Field after field after field stretching across the flat landscape towards the horizon. Squinting into the early morning sunshine, she thought she could make out a road in the distance. With no better plan in mind, she headed down the shallow scree slope beside the tracks, climbed the barbed wire fence and set off through the field. Keeping to the boundary so as not to damage the crop planted there, she walked in the general direction of the road.

As she walked, she felt the weight of her past begin to lift. True, she was only twenty-three, but she had lived and endured more in her short life than most folk twice her age.

The fresh new day stretched before her as she mentally created a new identity for herself. The person she had been was gone. She’d left them on the train. Her future lay ahead beyond the fields.

“Dawn,” she thought. “My name is now Dawn.”

Letting the shadows fall behind, she kept walking.