Me, Feeling Poorly, in 2017

Forgive me. I did intend a longer piece this weekend, but I only slept about three hours and I'm full of cold and I don't really have the wit and wherewithal to write a longer post. A shame as I had various things I want to talk about. Next week though, I promise you....

Sarah by Teri Polen

In the day or so since I finished reading SARAH, I've been trying to figure out what it does right so as to utterly grip me. After all, this is a YA novel about the ghost of a teenage girl, and the other teenagers who encounter her. Written baldly like that, most people are going…

Gifts from a Dead Race by Nik Morton

A varied and interesting collection of sci-fi/horror tales, with the accent undoubtedly leaning towards the scary. On my Goodreads page, I reviewed each of the stories as I came to it, but since that would look cumbersome on this big expanse of a blog post, I’m just instead picking out my top five. It’s a…

Me, Planning, in 2017

If all goes well, I’ll publish seven times next year! My publishing schedule, as I envisage it at the moment, will be as follows: January – Novella, already written, awaiting edit. March – Novel, already written, awaiting edit. June – Three novellas, in the process of writing. Sept – Novella, needs to be written Oct…

The Cove – part three

Not one of them called the police. The entire night no one called the police.Despite their terror, despite their muffled cries as they realised they were trapped in their homes by the thing at their front door – the things that used to be their men – not one of them thought to call the…

The Cove – part two

The sea had claimed them both, father and brother. Accident, misadventure, it didn’t matter what you called it. The sea had them. They’d been taken so completely that their bodies hadn’t even washed up. How cruel that was, particularly for her Man, that they didn’t have anything to bury. Nothing physical to mourn. Some of…

The Cove – part one

Beryl marched up and down the shingle of the beach the entire day. She was bare-foot and grimy, but the soles of her feet were too calloused for the pebbles to gnaw at. Not that she’d have felt it even if they’d torn open her toes. In the grey drizzle of that afternoon, she was…