Tag Archives: #newfiction

The Measly Jar of Motivation – Writer’s Block (flash fiction)

 Staring at the writing prompts lying on the desk in front of her, the writer’s mind was blank…totally blank. No stories. No paragraphs. No sentences. No words. Not even any letters. Blank…totally blank.

Was this what writer’s block felt like?

The silence in her mind was eerie. None of her imaginary friends, her characters, were whispering to her.

Had she done something to upset them?

Tiptoeing slowly, she explored the dark corridors of her mind, searching in all the dusty corners for any signs of inspiration.

Nothing….

A noise behind her caused her to turn round. It was the sound of a door closing. There were footsteps scurrying through the dark.

Then she spotted it. Inspiration was hurrying back to her along with two new faces. New characters? As they approached, she could hear them chatting animatedly.

When they reached her, she wrapped them in a huge welcoming hug.

Smiling, the writer picked up her pen and began to write.

Continue The Story – Storm (flash fiction)

This is a continue the Continue The Story moment. I wrote and shared the first part way back in November 2021. Here’s the link to jog your memory  – Continue The Story – Fact Or Fiction? (flash fiction) | Coral McCallum

Now to Continue The Story….

“It’s good to see you,” she said after a while.

They’d left the bookstore almost half an hour before and walked a couple of blocks to a bar that Luke had suggested. He’d bought her a large white wine then directed them to one of the few empty tables.

“It’s good to see you too,” he replied with a smile. That smile… her heart melted just a little bit more. “How’ve you been? Looks like the books are doing well.”

“Busy. Books are doing great. Still feels surreal to see them on the shelves,” she replied, trying not to gaze too deeply into his dark brown eyes.

Noticing a lack of rings on her left hand, he reached across the round table to touch the back of her fingers

. “What happened?”

“I found the courage to leave,” she replied quietly. “Been two years since the divorce came through. He’s remarried now.”

“And you?” he asked, raising one eyebrow.

“No one,” she half-whispered.

“Ditto,” replied Luke, still holding her hand. “My heart still belongs to…” The sentence petered out unfinished.

It had been five years since they had last met but the chemistry was still there.

“So, why did you base Storm on me?”

Laughing, she replied, “You’d never believe me if I told you.”

“Try me.” His voice was soft. He held her gaze.

“I wanted to fantasise about what might have been,” she confessed openly. “Writing about Storm was the only connection to you that I had left.”

“And, if what might have been, could be?”

The question hung in the air.

She knew her answer could change everything…

From The Measly Jar of Motivation – Visualisation and Realisation (flash fiction)

and the prompts were

Sitting cross legged on her yoga mat, she focused on her breathing….in and out through her nose, feeling each breath travel down into her solar plexus.

In front of her sat a small unscented tealight. Its flame offered her a focal point, if she should need it.

Calmly, she closed her eyes and gave herself permission to relax.

In and out…in and out…in and out.

Silence…stillness.

In her mind’s eye, a hidden door came into view. It was a beautiful, varnished oak door with a polished brass door knob. It was a small door. Dare she open it?

Her heartbeat increased before she stole a few moments to gaze into the small candle’s dancing flame.

She refocused her breathing; she refocused her mind.

In her mind’s eye, she reached out to turn the doorknob. The door swung inwards, revealing a long corridor lined with identical doors.

Remaining calm, she visualised herself walking slowly step by step, breath by breath, down the narrow hallway.

Was that noises she could hear coming from behind some of the closed doors?

It was her memories, both good and bad, that were restless behind their doors.

Focusing on her breath, she kept going. The corridor stretched on and on.

She recognised some of the memories from the sounds escaping from behind the closed doors. Some made her smile; some brought tears to her closed eyes and made her throat involuntarily tighten.

The small flame from the tealight flickered and danced unseen as she visualised walking past all the doors.

Voices from her past and present guided her on her meditative journey.

In her heart, she knew what she was seeking.

Eventually, she stopped, pausing in front of one of the doors. Silence flooded her mind.

Sub-consciously her hand reached out in front of her as she visualised opening the door.

It opened with ease. Cautiously, she took a step inside the room beyond. A voice whispered into her ear, “Welcome to Understanding. We’ve been waiting to welcome you.”

Silently Watching At The Full Worm Moon…a trip to chapel

With a loud grating noise, the ornate panel slowly slid down. Behind it, there was a narrow flight of stone steps that disappeared down in the darkness.

The air coming out from the opening was stale and musty, with no indication of movement. Was this an escape route or another trap?

Reaching for a fresh torch, Anna lit it from the sconce to her right. As it flared into life, she lifted a spare unlit torch then started slowly down the steep steps.

The staircase was narrow and some of the steps crumbled as she put weight on them. Eventually, she reached the bottom and found herself standing on a dry dirt floor. In the flickering torchlight, she could see that the passageway was timber lined and stretched further than the light reached.

With nothing to lose, the dark angel started walking.

Dusk had just settled over the area when Jem and Trine landed lightly on the beach in front of the hut, closely followed by the four members of the Court of the Elders. Gazing round at the view, Michael was the first to speak, “I can see why you’d want to live here, Jeremiah.”

Flinching at the use of his full name, the runner just smiled and gave a small nod.

“Let’s go indoors,” suggested Trine, wondering if they would all manage to squeeze into the small beach hut’s living room.

“Later,” said Stefan. “There’s no time to waste. Jem, can you lead us to the chapel you mentioned. Let’s start there. If there’s a matching carving, then we’ll have some proof to show we’re on the right track here.”

“Of course. It’s not far from here. About a mile or so to the west,” replied Jem, drawing his wings around him to ward off the chilly night air.

“And you’re sure we’ll not be seen?” quizzed Alessandro, looking around nervously.

“As sure as I can be.”

“Lead the way, son,” prompted Meryn, as anxious as Stefan to confirm whether or not there was a matching carving among the remains of the chapel.

Within a few minutes the six vampires were standing in the ruins of the private chapel, gazing round at the crumbling walls. There was no sign of a panel to match the one Jem recalled from the dark angel’s tomb. Such was the state of decay none of the walls that were left standing were substantial enough to incorporate it.

“What if it wasn’t on the wall,” began Meryn staring down at the overgrown chapel floor. “I can sense a stone floor here, running towards  where the altar would have been.”

“I’ve not heard of the matching pattern being on the floor,” said Alessandro. “But it’s possible.”

“Step to the sides,” instructed Meryn firmly. Keeping her voice low, she recited a simple clearing incantation that sent the undergrowth that had spread across the floor of the chapel scurrying back into the ground.

The spell revealed the remains of the chapel floor. In the dim light, it looked as though the centre aisle had been a chequerboard design. Half the squares were plain; half the squares were carved.

“They look like miniatures of the panel we’re looking for,” commented Jem as he bent to inspect the one closest to him.

“A promising sign,” agreed Alessandro. “But they are too small. Where’s the larger one?”

“It’s here,” said Trine calmly from near the front of the chapel.

The six vampires gathered round the large circular panel in the floor. It was sited behind what would have most likely been the altar. The panel itself looked to be undamaged but there was no obvious sign of the trigger to open it.

All of them stood staring down at it.

Suddenly, there was a low rumbling, grating noise and the panel began to sink down into the ground. It only sank down about ten feet, revealing a well like hole with a ladder secured into its stone wall.

The six vampires stood back a little and watched in silence to see who or what was about to emerge from the inky darkness.

With cobwebs tangled in her hair and wings, Anna began to climb the ladder, taking care to test each rung before putting her weight down on it. Slowly, she made her way to the surface, grateful to breathe in the fresh cold night air. As she stepped out onto solid ground, she let out a sigh.

“Good evening, Anna.”

“Stefan!”

Before she could move, Anna felt the thick chains of strong magic shackle her to someone. Turning to look into the shadows, she found herself face to face with Meryn, her runner and the ice maiden plus the three remaining court elders.

The dark angel let out a blood curdling scream.

Silently Watching At The Full Worm Moon

Muttering obscenities under her breath, Anna paced the perimeter of her prison. Over the winter months she had worn a trail through the woodland where the illusion met the ground. It was exactly one thousand three hundred and seventy steps round it. Despite her best efforts, nothing cracked the spell cast over her illusion. Every attempt ended with the magic deflecting back at her.

During the long cold winter months, food had been scarce.  Very few living creatures had been trapped under the shell and, craving blood, she had long since killed and drained them all. In an attempt to survive, Anna had cast a sleep spell on herself, allowing her to rest for the duration of two full moons but as the Worm Moon approached, she was wide awake, thirsty for blood and angry.

Worms… the thought momentarily filled her mind. As she had stormed round the perimeter trail, she had seen several worms emerging from the soil. Worms contained blood.

With a swish of her clock, Anna headed back to her mausoleum in search of some sort of container in which to collect worms..

Some time later, Anna sat in the tomb staring into a large silver chalice writhing with fat juicy worms.

“How did I get reduced to this?” she muttered out loud as she delicately plucked a large worm from the cup. Closing her eyes, she opened her mouth and swallowed it down whole. The sensation of it wriggling down her throat almost made her vomit.

For the millionth time she looked round her home trying to figure out a way to escape. If the worms were emerging, that would suggest the frozen winter earth had thawed. Could she tunnel under her illusion and the cloaking spell.

A fire was blazing in the word burning stove, keeping the beach hut cosy. Wrapped in a soft blanket, Meryn sat gazing into the flames, a glass of blood infused wine in her hands. Turning to Jem and Trine, who were both seated at the table, she said, “It’s time I went home.”

“Meryn,” protested Trine. “You’ve barely recovered. Can hardly hunt. How do you propose to get home?”

Casting the spell had drained both Meryn and the runner more than either of them had realised. Both of them had been too weak to get out of bed for more than a month. Jem had recovered first but Meryn had taken another full lunar cycle before she could walk from her bed to the sitting room unaided. Caring for them both had exhausted Trine but somehow she had found the strength to hunt for three.

“I need to go back to the castle,” stated Meryn plainly. “We need to tell Stefan what we’ve done.”

“But Meryn…,” began Trine shrilly.

“She’s right,” interrupted Jem calmly. “I’ll travel back with you.”

“What about Anna?” asked Trine.

“She’s going nowhere,” stated Meryn sharply before taking a sip from her glass. “Even if she is still alive.”

“We should all go,” said Jem, reluctant to leave the ice maiden home alone in case the dark angel escaped. He knew only too well how resourceful she was didn’t want to take any risks.

“Fine,” relented Trine with a sigh. “When do we leave?”

“Tomorrow,” insisted Meryn. “I can draw some energy to travel from the full moon.”

Unfurling his wings, Jem loosened his grasp on his mother, making sure she was steady on her feet before he let go. Beside him, he felt Trine land lightly on the patterned rug.

“Well. Well. Well. Look who’s dropped in.”

“Father,” said Trine, stepping forward to embrace Stefan.

Smiling warmly, the senior vampire held his daughter for a few moments then noticed Meryn sway slightly as she moved towards the couch. With the lightning speed afforded to vampires, he was by her side in an instant.

“You’re ill.”

Meryn shook her head, “I’m fine, Stefan. Don’t fuss. I just…overdid things a bit.”

“I sense you three have a story to tell me,” he said glancing at each of them in turn. “Sit. I’ll send for more wine. “In fact,” he countered looking at the weary travellers, “I’ll see if we have any blood. You all look as though you need something stronger than wine.”

Gratefully, Jem and Trine sank down into the couch, sitting either side of Meryn.

Over several glasses of warm blood, Jem and Meryn explained about the illusion that the dark angel had created around her mausoleum. Paying close attention to the tale, Stefan listened as Meryn explained abut sealing Anna into her own illusion, with Jem’s help. With that part of the story told, Trine filled in the details of caring for them both while they recovered from their efforts.

“And you’re sure she’s still imprisoned in there?” quizzed Stefan calmly.

“There’s no way out of that shield,” retorted Meryn sharply. “It’s a complete sphere. She can’t tunnel under it even if she thinks to try.”

The elder vampire nodded then turned to Jem,” You’ve been in her tomb. Are there any hidden exits to it?”

Pausing to visualise the mausoleum, Jem shook his head, “None that I’m aware of. There’s stone benches down two sides that she uses as storage lockers. She had a hidden compartment under a slab on the floor but no other ways in or out that I saw.”

Stefan nodded his approval, “And what do you propose to do next?”

“Leave her to rot,” muttered Meryn, her tone laced with venom.

“That’s one option,” Stefan agreed. “Or we fetch her and bring her here to stand trial and answer for her crimes. If that’s a further four children she has fed from that’s four more serious charges to add to an already lengthy list.”

“And how do you propose we get her out?” snapped Meryn, setting her empty glass down.

“That’s a finer detail still to be worked out,” Stefan acknowledged.

“Father,” began Trine hesitantly. “Why not let Court of the Elders decide? They may elect to leave Anna where she is.”

Stefan paused for a moment while he processed that thought then nodded, “A reasonable suggestion, daughter. A timely one too. The Court are scheduled to meet tomorrow.”

“Well, if that’s decided,” began Meryn, an edge to her tone of voice, “I’m going to retire to my chambers. I trust they’ve been prepared while we’ve been chatting.”

“Of course, Meryn,” replied the senior vampire warmly. He turned to Jem and Trine adding, “And your usual rooms are ready for you too. If you need anything, ring the bell in your room.”

“Thanks, Father.”

“Thank you,” added Jem, trying to stifle a yawn.

“Go and rest. I’ll send someone to fetch you tomorrow to tell your tale to the Court. Be prepared. All of you.”

“Damn you, Meryn!” raged Anna, her clothes and hands caked in mud. “Damn you to hell!”

Hours of digging had left the dark angel exhausted and angry.

The shield spell went deep underground.

Using her probing magic, Anna swiftly concluded that the shield was spherical. She was entirely sealed in.

Was there really no way out?

Drawing her cloak around her, she returned to her mausoleum to rest and to think.

Before she had started to dig, she had gathered more worms, fathoming that she would be too tired to hunt for them when she returned. As she entered the tomb, the chalice was the first thing she saw. Wrinkling her nose in disgust, she watched the fat juicy worms wriggling and writhing for a moment or two before plucking one from the dish and swallowing it down.

There had to be something she was missing…

Once the silver dish was empty, Anna set it aside and lifted the tome she had been studying. It was an ancient magick book, written in a long-forgotten dialect making her progress through it slow. The book was her last hope of finding a way out. She had read and re-read all the others in her possession.

Shelf after shelf of books lined the walls from floor to ceiling in the castle library, the chosen venue for the Court of the Elders meeting. There were occasional tables and high-backed winged leather chairs scattered around the vast room. In the centre though there was an ornately carved round table and when Jem and Trine entered, they found the four Court members already seated.

With a silent hand gesture, Stefan indicated that they should sit at two spaces immediately opposite the elders. A servant placed a silver goblet of blood-laced wine in front of each of them, then retired to the shadows.

“Thank you for joining us so promptly,” began Stefan formally. “I trust you are both well-rested?”

“Yes, sir,” replied Jem calmly.

“Due to Meryn’s close personal involvement in this matter, she is here in silent presence today. By that, I mean she can take an active role in the discussion, but her court decision-making power is vetoed for this session,” continued the senior vampire. “Now, for the benefit of Alessandro and Michael, please re-tell the tale you told me last night when you arrived.”

In an effort to show that the situation wasn’t intimidating him, Jem took a mouthful of his wine before he began to explain about the four dead local children, discovering that Anna had hidden her mausoleum and about trying and failing to create a shield over the cloaking illusion.

“Who taught you magic, Jeremiah?” asked Michael, the American born member of the court.

“Jem,” corrected the runner, avoiding his mother’s gaze. “While Trine and I were held her, my  mother taught me some basic incantations. I like to read so I borrowed some of her books to pass the time.”

“Meryn,” began Michael, turning his attention to the vampiress. “Were you granted permission to teach magic to your son?”

“All I taught him were basic spells a child could master,” she countered calmly. “I taught him nothing that merited seeking permission. He borrowed my books without permission. My son’s intelligent. There’s a lot of pure vampire blood running in his veins. He apparently has a natural aptitude for magic, judging by what he accomplished from merely reading those books.”

“Perhaps,” mused Alessandro, who until now had remained silent. “Can you explain to the court, Meryn, just how you came to be visiting your son and Trine at just the exact moment he needed your assistance?”

“I was long overdue to visit with them,” replied Meryn, smoothing out the dark purple skirts of her dress. “You all know its easier for me to travel around the time of the full moon. I just happened to choose that particular full moon to drop by.”

“Convenient,” muttered the Italian half under his breath. He cleared his throat then asked, “Did either of you attempt to contact Meryn prior to her arrival?”

Taking a deep breath, Trine said simply, “I did.”

“How?” quizzed Alessandro sharply.

“I tried to reach out to my father, but I failed.”

“By what means did you reach out, Trine?” pressed Alessandro.

“I’m guessing my daughter used the crystal ball that I gave her,” interjected Stefan. “We regularly use it to stay in contact. That particular evening though I had left it in a locked drawer in my study. You’ll recall we had travelled to Florence to settle a territorial dispute that night, Alessandro.”

“We had,” conceded the vampire.

“Meryn,” continued Stefan. “Tell us what happened when you arrived at the home of your son?”

Keeping her voice quiet, Meryn remained unhurried as she explained about arriving at the beach hut, transporting to the woodland beside the dark angel’s illusion then working all night, with the support of Jem, to create a spherical shield. She confessed that her memories of the next few days were hazy due to the exhaustion she had suffered once the shield was in place.

“How confident are you that Anna remains trapped within that shield?” asked Michael.

“There’s no way in or out without breaking the shield,” stated Meryn confidently.

“No other existing exits from that tomb?” pressed the American.

“None that I am aware of,” replied Jem. “I’ve visited the tomb several times. I’ve never seen any sign of any other ways out.”

“Whose tomb is it?” asked Alessandro casually.

The question caught them off guard.

Eventually, Jem said, “It’s at least a couple of hundred years old. I don’t remember seeing a name on the outside of it but the land belongs to the estate that lies to the north of the village.”

“How far away is this estate?”

“From the mausoleum?”

“Yes.”

“The best part of a mile,” Jem replied. “There’s a main road between the tomb and the main estate.”

“Does this estate have its own private chapel?” asked the Italian.

“Yes, but its ruined.”

“Could this be important, Alessandro?” questioned Stefan with a worried frown.

“Potentially. It would depend on the architect. It’s not unheard of for the owners of wealthy estates to link their private chapels to the family crypt. It allowed them to grieve with their dead in private. Tunnels often ran deep underground but a tunnel of that length does seem improbable.”

“But not impossible?” challenged Stefan.

“No, not impossible. Anna, of course, may not know of its presence. These were often hidden in the tombs to prevent people from discovering them.”

“Hidden where?” asked Jem, trying to picture Anna’s mausoleum in his mind.

“I’ve only seen two personally,” admitted Alessandro. “Both were gothic tombs with ornately carved panels on the rear wall. A trigger was hidden within the design. The rear wall is false in part. Once the trigger has activated, part of the panel would slide down or up depending on the ceiling height to reveal the tunnel’s entrance.”

“Jem, is there a carving on the rear wall of Anna’s tomb?” asked Stefan.

Feeling his blood suddenly run cold, Jem nodded.

“That may change our decision here, gentlemen,” mused Michael, looking thoughtful. “I had been of the opinion that we leave her in there to desiccate, but now I’m inclined to say we need to visit this site and the chapel for ourselves.”

“I agree,” nodded Alessandro. “If there’s a matching carved panel in the chapel then we will know if there is or was a tunnel. Time may have collapsed it.”

“Agree,” stated Stefan firmly. “We travel tomorrow. All of us.”

Tossing the book aside, Anna let out a long sigh of frustration. There had been nothing in it of any use to solve her current predicament. She sat staring at the carving on the end wall of the tomb. It was an intricate Celtic pattern that she had always been fond of. Mentally, she traced its intertwined lines realising for the first time that if drawn correctly, were all actually one line. When she got to the centre of the Celtic design, she discovered that there an extra short line that she had  never noticed and that didn’t fit with the single line flow of rest of the design.

Intrigued, she stood up and moved to stand directly in front of it. Tentatively, Ann ran her hand over the section of stone.

It moved.

From The Measly Jar of Motivation – Keep Quiet (flash fiction)

And the prompts were….

There she was in her usual seat in the corner by the window. Sun shining in through the glass was catching on the dust motes in the air. They sparkled around her like stars. Her waist length blonde hair was catching the light too, causing the silky strands to fall like liquid gold onto the desk in front of her.

It was four o’clock on Monday. His favourite after school study period. True, he saw her in class every day and in the hallways and school cafeteria but here in the library for an hour on Mondays was his chance to watch her unobserved.

“Keep quiet!” boomed the librarian, chastising a noisy study group on the far side of the room.

The blonde girl never looked up at the noise. As always, she had her ear buds in.

“What’s she listening to?” he wondered and not for the first time.

She wasn’t like the other girls in school. Her spirit was free. There was no conformity to the fashion dress code. She blatantly shunned this in favour of her own simple style. Most days she wore black skinny jeans, Converse and band tees. The bands were seldom anyone he’d ever heard of but he’d note the names down in his planner then listen to them later on Spotify. Even her choice in music was non-conformist. He liked that. He was less sure of most of the music her t-shirts introduced him to.

He felt a familiar twitch in his boxers as his gaze fell on her breasts, perfectly outlined thanks to the thin tight cotton.

He’d been watching her all term, ever since she’d arrived in school after the Christmas holidays. There were only three weeks until summer break then two long months would pass before he would see her again on a regular basis. Somehow, he needed to find the confidence and the courage to speak to her. If he couldn’t speak to her without tripping over his words, how was he ever going to ask her out on a date? As far as he knew, she didn’t have a boyfriend. He’d never seen her with anyone else, even when he occasionally caught sight of her at the mall or the cinema.

There were only ten minutes left of the study hour.

On a brave whim, he tore off the bottom corner of the page he was attempting to solve a maths problem on and hurriedly wrote, “What are you listening to?”

Before nerves and shyness got the better of him, he slipped out of his seat on the pretence of fetching a book from the shelf behind the window table. Checking that the ever-watchful librarian wasn’t looking his direction, he slipped the torn piece of paper under one of the girl’s text books, grabbed the first book his hand found on the shelf and scurried back across to his seat.

His heart was pounding.

His palms were sweaty.

His boxers suddenly felt very tight.

He glanced down at the book he’d scooped off the shelf – “A History of 19th Century Romantic Poets”. Now, that was something he’d never be!

He stared down at the faded cover waiting for his heart rate to drop and the adrenaline surge to pass.

Trying to act casual, he lifted his gaze and looked across towards the window.

She wasn’t there! Her books were still scattered across the table along with her coffee cup.

A movement to his right caught his attention.

She was standing at the bookshelf beside his table with her back to him. He stole a surreptitious glance at her butt in her tight jeans. His boxers tightened again. As she turned to return to her seat, he watched as she left a small folded square of paper on the corner of his table.

He unfolded it with trembling hands.

“The Sound of Silence by Disturbed. Fancy a coffee? Starbucks in the mall tomorrow after school.”

Hardly daring to breathe, he looked up and turned to look across at her. She was watching him.

Time seemed to move in slow motion.

She smiled.

He smiled back and nodded.

She smiled again, packed her books into her backpack and left the library.

Ten Days of Riley Johnson….

It’s ten days since my favourite little green-haired girl, Riley, was released into the world. Been a whirlwind few days.

So far, everyone seems to be loving her and it warms my heart to see that she is sitting on Amazon and Goodreads surrounded by 5* reviews already. Hopefully over the coming weeks and months, as more folk get around to reading her story, this will continue. (Yes, that was a subtle hint to pick up a copy if you haven’t already.)

Marketing is the bit I struggle with most. I promote my work on a shoestring budget so most of it is done via social media, a website called AllAuthor  (www.allauthor.com/author/coralmccallum )and this blog page. Word of mouth is also a great marketing tool (Yes, that was another subtle hint that if you’ve read Riley and enjoyed her tale, tell people, please!)

Books, actual paperback books, make great Christmas gifts. (Yes, that’s another subtle hint) Riley would look fabulous all wrapped in silver with a huge green bow, don’t you think?

So, what’s next? I’ve been asked that a few times over the past ten days!  I’m still in the undecided mode on that to an extent. Yes, I have started “something” that may become book baby 8 but it’s too soon to tell. For now, it’s about relaxing a bit, enjoying the festive season and we’ll see what 2023 and beyond brings.

If you’re reading this, scratching your head and asking “Who’s Riley?” , you can find out using the links below

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0B9SWP6K3

https://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B0B9SWP6K3

Today’s the day…..it’s time to meet Riley

***** NOW AVAILABLE WORLDWIDE *****

Hi. My name’s Riley and this is my story. You might remember me from Shattered Hearts when I burst into Jake Power’s class late and from Long Shadows but don’t worry if we’ve not met before. This book tells you about the release of my debut album and the formation of the RJ Band and well…I’ll let the rest speak for itself.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0B9SWP6K3

https://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B0B9SWP6K3

** note- this tale makes reference to self-harm**

One sleep to go until we meet Riley….

“Been a big week for you,” commented Garrett as he poured himself a second glass of red wine. “New album, album launch, a tour to Europe and a new band.”

“I know! So much is changing so fast!”

“No less than you deserve, my dear,” added Jethro warmly. “I have a good feeling in my braids about this for you.”

Riley giggled as she helped herself to another slice of pizza.

“We’re meeting for lunch on Sunday,” she explained, her mouth still full of pepperoni. “Will be good to get to know the guys a little better before we get to work.”

“You thought of a name yet?” quizzed Garrett.

“No!” gasped Riley, her eyes wide. “I hadn’t even thought about a name.”

“Molly and I had provisionally thought of the boys as The RJ Band,” revealed Jethro casually. “This is still all about Riley Johnson. It’s all about you so it needs to be Riley and the…”

“The old man’s right,” added Garrett calmly. “You’re the star here. It needs to be your name up there in the big letters. Those boys will just need to get used to being behind you.”

“Am I ready for this?” asked Riley quietly, a wave of fear seeping through her.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0B9SWP6K3

https://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B0B9SWP6K3

** note- this tale makes reference to self-harm**

Two sleeps to go…… It’s almost time to meet Riley

Up on stage, Three Dead Mice brought Killer to an end.

“New York, thank you!” screamed Rob, glancing over towards them. “Now, we’d like to invite a friend… sorry two friends… up here to join us. New York, let’s hear it for the beautiful Riley Johnson and the legend that is Jake Power!”

The small crowd went wild as Riley and Jake stepped up on stage. Hurriedly a guitar was found for Jake then Rob stepped back up to the mic.

“Time to Shoot To Thrill!”

With a nod, Rob and Jake both began to play the distinctive ACDC intro before the others joined in on bass and drums. Gone was the quiet Riley from the album launch. In her place, centre stage, was a rock queen in waiting as she poured all her vocal power into the raucous lyrics. Both Rob and Jake joined in for the chorus, standing either side of her.

“Pull the trigger!” screamed Riley as she spun away, allowing the two guitarists to play together. No one watching would have guessed that the performance was entirely unrehearsed. Their passion for the classic rock track was clear for all to see and hear.

“Folks, give it up for Riley and Jake!” roared Rob, grinning from ear to ear as sweat ran down his face.

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** note- this tale makes reference to self-harm**