Tag Archives: tears

Shattered Hearts….. revealed

Well, folks, here it is…..

 

SH 6x9 front cover .jpg

 

Isn’t it pretty?

 

Shattered Hearts will be published via KDP on 6th December 2019. Save the date!

 

 

Pre-order details will be announced soon…promise!

 

For those of you who are more than a little impatient to get a look inside Shattered Hearts, here’s a short extract to keep you going til December.

 

As the sky lit up before him, Jake reflected on the last few months. When he’d left Rehoboth in January, the beach had been covered in eight inches of snow. Now, in the third week in June, it looked as though it was going to be a beautiful summer’s day. This was the longest period of time that he’d spent away from home and, for the past ten weeks of the tour, his heart had been yearning for the sights and sounds of the ocean and the beach house.

Life over the past five years had become more and more demanding as Silver Lake had gone from strength to strength and Weigh Station had enjoyed a successful revival. Juggling musical commitments, recording sessions and tours for two of the planet’s biggest bands had been a logistical nightmare. He’d long since lost count of the number of shows he’d played, finding it harder and harder to remember where he was and who he was with. If it wasn’t for the journal he kept, Jake would have lost track of time and place entirely.

On the flight home, he’d been sitting between Grey and Jethro, having lost the coin toss to see who would take the middle seat. As Grey had slept soundly at the window, Jake had confided in the band’s manager that he didn’t want to even think about music until at least the fall. Understanding completely, the older man had nodded his silent agreement, noting how raw and hoarse Silver Lake’s vocalist’s voice was sounding.

Now, as he sat watching the sun rise, Jake was wondering if he would be able to sing again by fall even if he wanted to. Ghosts of a past duet with Tori from Molton were tormenting him. The last three shows had really put a strain on him and, by the end of Flyin’ High in Los Angeles, his voice was gone. A sign to take a much-needed rest perhaps he thought.

Lost in his thoughts, he sat enjoying the view and the tranquillity of the beach.

 The familiar screech of the patio door to the sun room opening startled him back to the present. He listened closely wondering who was about to approach him.

“Daddy!”

Before he could turn round, he felt sand spray over him as Melody threw her arms around his neck. As he hugged her close, she smothered his face with kisses.

“I’ve missed you, Daddy,” she said as he pulled her into his lap.

“Bet I’ve missed you more, Miss M.”

“You sound funny,” commented the little girl screwing her face into a frown.

“Too many shows. Too many songs,” said Jake quietly.

“You need the icky medicine Mommy gave me when I had strep.”

“Maybe. I think I’ll start with some warm water and honey first though,” he replied. “Now, are you going to make me breakfast?”

Giggling, Melody shook her tousled blonde head.

“Is your Mommy awake?”

Again, Melody shook her head. “She was drawing last night.”

“And I’ll bet she was drawing most of the night,” added Jake, knowing all too well how easily Lori lost track of time when she was working.

 

If you want to know more, you’ll need to be patient until 6th December 😉

 

If you’ve missed the first three books in the series, there is plenty of time to catch up. They are available worldwide via Amazon. Here’s the links:

 

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

 

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

 

 

You can also keep track of all Book Baby related news on my Author Facebook page :

https://www.facebook.com/coralmccallumauthor/

dragon heart.jpg

 

The Lasting Impact of One Word……one small word……Beast

I read an article the other day that was encouraging people to try creative writing to improve brain power. The exercise that the article suggested the reader complete was to list all the names you’ve ever been called- good or bad- then write about one.

This triggered a flood of memories.

There was Razzle Dazzle that my dad used to call me when I was wee.

There was 10cc that a neighbour called me the year I turned ten. My initials then were CC and he was a fan of that particular band.

With a name like Coral, there was the obvious Coral Reef and various other fishy, ocean themed attempts from time to time.

The name however that sent a torrent of painful memories through me; the name that chilled me to my very core even all these years down the line was Beast. The name the school bullies cursed me with.

My mind was suddenly overflowing with flashback memories from my school days. I could hear their feet thundering down the stairs in primary school as they chased me. I could see the faces of the people who taunted me. I could feel their breath on my neck as they yanked my hair from my head to see if I had 666 tattooed on my skull. I could hear their voices filling my head.

Over thirty years later these wounds still run deep and I doubt if some of them will ever be fully healed but one simple word, one name, opened a fair few of them back up.

“Sticks and stones may break your bones but names can never hurt you,” my mother used to council.

She was wrong.

For just shy of six years I endured the school bullies abuse, usually verbal but occasionally physical. I thought naively that when I moved up from primary school to secondary school that my daily torment would stop. I was sadly mistaken. In fact, for more than two years, it was worse as my primary school bullies now had a larger audience and swiftly recruited new blood.

I was almost fifteen before the last chants of “Beast” died away.

By then the damage had been done.

Years later I had the misfortune to encounter one of the boys I had been to school with. He came staggering out of a local pub with several drunken friends, recognised me as I walked down the street on my way home from work and, before I knew what was happening, they were all round me chanting “Beast. Beast. Beast” incessantly. Suddenly I was 12 years old again instead of the 22 that I was. Fortunately my bus came along, the driver recognised me and the ugliness of the situation and, despite it not being a “bus stop”, pulled over and shouted on me to “Get on!” I was never so relieved to see anyone in my life.

The year I turned 40 a school reunion was organised. The thought of attending terrified me but I knew it was my final chance to conquer my fears and lay the ghosts to rest once and for all. I was reasonably in control of my emotions during the run up to the event until I saw one name appear on the list of people who would be attending. The main instigator of my childhood torment was going to be there.

I very nearly changed my mind but the stronger voice within me lectured my quivering self and said I wasn’t going to let the bullies win again.

When the time came I went along to the event in the local rugby club, flanked by two friends, with my stomach heaving with fear and dread. I don’t regret going for one second however I will never attend another reunion. The bully in question arrived after my friends and I were seated with a drink. I watched them greet our former classmates in turn but, when their eyes met mine, the same look of hatred and loathing from more than a quarter of a century before was staring back at me. Some leopards never change their spots. I turned away.

If you’ve been fortunate enough to sail through life and never experienced bullying at first hand then I expect this is difficult to fully comprehend. If you have experienced bullying then I’m sure you understand only too well the emotions that can be stirred by a name. If you have been the bully then I hope that you never have to experience the pain that you put your victims of choice through.

To this day, I don’t know what started it all. I’ve no idea what minor or major thing triggered it all. I’ll never know ……   But it is all symbolised in a name.