The Thin Places – Dark Tales short story competition success

Make sure you click through to read Louise’s story! Of course Bold Street and St Luke’s (the bombed out church) feature in ‘You’ll Never Walk Alone”.

Louise Taylor's avatarNo Frigate like a book

For a while now I’ve been fascinated by the idea of time slips: those places where, some say, it is possible to step from one time or plane of existence, to another. It’s not so much that I believe it really happens (although, to be fair, I won’t completely discount anything science hasn’t yet disproved) but more the possibility, the what ifs of the idea.

There’s a street in Liverpool city centre, Bold Street, which has long been associated with time slips. Most of them concern contemporary individuals who reportedly found themselves whisked back to the 1960s. I’ve spent a lot of time on Bold Street over the years but, sadly, have no tale of my own to tell. Nevertheless, I’ve searched out all the accounts I can find to read and reread. I also found one about a policeman, in New Brighton, on the other side of the Mersey…

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Editing Tip: Common Consistency Errors You Might Be Making

Some useful tips here! I found the differences between UK and US English an interesting challenge when doing a spot of proof-reading for a friend who writes in US English when I am very much a UK English speaker (‘Paul’s English’…you know who you are!)

theryanlanz's avatarRyan Lanz

by Emily Nemchick

When you check your own manuscript for errors, you are probably looking for misspelled words, dodgy grammar, and the inevitable typos. Those are all things you need to correct—but you should also be aware of pesky consistency errors that are commonplace in poorly edited manuscripts.

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Carter and K12…A very short story about cats and women

Couldn’t resist this little tale (or should that be tail?).

hitandrun1964's avatarRethinking Life

Photo:  Pixabay

Carter crash landed on K12, which is a planet, filled with women and cats.  The cats on K12 were said to be rather large and so were the women.  He couldn’t believe his bird fell out of the sky above this planet, of all places.

“Well, Carter,” he said, out loud.  “Don’t just stand here, get moving.”

He dug the lantern out of his downed ship and started waking.  It wasn’t long before he saw the first cat.  His grip on the club in his right hand tightened.

“I’ve been in fights before, so come on Big Kitty, show me whatcha got,” he said, softly.

“Mew,” said the cat, sitting in front of him.

“Afraid, are you?” he snickered.

“Mew.”

“Are we going to fight, or what?”

“Meow,” said the cat behind him.

“Two of you?  No problem,” he shouted, brandishing his club.

The cats looked at each…

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Crazy Old Cat Lady

fictionspawn Aak's avatarFictionspawn

Crazy Old Cat Lady.jpg

Today Mike Mander had received a letter. It was written on an old fashioned type writer. Someone wanted a book redrawn, said something about giving cats a bad reputation. The Dreaming. A dystopian story of a world were cats ruled, keeping humans as slaves for food and play. Some crazy cat person for sure. He crushed the paper and threw it in the bin. It was late, the sun was going down.

He usually walked home. It wasn’t very far if he took the short cut though the industrial port. There was an old house on the hill. It always had light on in one of higher windows. The rest of the house was dark. It must have stood there long before most of the port, when there were still natural beaches and rocks down there, now it was falling apart. He wondered who was living there.

He passed…

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Here’s Why Pitching Isn’t as Scary as You Think

Taking out some of the fear…

theryanlanz's avatarRyan Lanz

by Meg Dowell

Pitching isn’t so bad.

So you’ve reached that point in Writing Insanity Land.

You’re ready to pitch article ideas to publications. Hurray!

There’s just one problem …

Pitching is scary.

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SoCS: The Barbecue

the dark netizen's avatarThe Dark Netizen

It was hot sunny afternoon. I was sitting on our lawn, along with dad. The ice-box lay open, within arm’s reach. A blanket of ice cubes comfortably covered Eight pints of beer, preserving their cold sanctity. They appeared all the more appealing in the mid-day heat. Dad’s eyes were covered with dark sunglasses, but I knew that even he was eyeing the pints. We had no choice. It was mom’s rule that the beer was not be touched until everyone had arrived.

It was our fortnightly family barbecue lunch. We were waiting for my uncle’s family to arrive. Mom was huddled over the grill, marinating the meat with her special mix of spices. Meanwhile, I and dad, were sizzling in the sun, not unlike the meat on the grill. The only redeeming factor was the amazing aroma emanating from the grill. It made me drool more profusely than the sun…

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7 Ways to Boost Your Book Sales

Self-publishing is the easy bit. The marketing is much more difficult. Some useful tips here which I am going to try!

theryanlanz's avatarRyan Lanz

by Annmarie McQueen

In my last post, I looked at how to prepare yourself for self-publishing. This time I’ll be focusing on what to do once your book is already out there, and how to increase your sales revenue. Here are my top tips for marketing your novel on Amazon:

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Breakfast at The Adelphi

Chapter 12 of my work-in-progress novel, ‘You’ll Never Walk Alone’.
Visit https://lunasonline.wordpress.com/wip-novel/ to read from the start.

Much later Lucy was awoken by the bright morning light shining through the open curtains. She sat up and looked over at Pierre who was staring up at the ceiling. He turned his head and smiled.

“‘Hey, sleepy head,” he said, reaching for her hand and caressing her fingers.

“You went somewhere last night,” Lucy murmured.

“I had to pop out. I brought back a surprise for you.” He let go of her hand and leant over the edge of the bed. He plucked the leather case from the floor and laid it on the bed beside Lucy. “Let’s see what we have in here,” he said as he sprung the catches. He opened the case and took out a document holder and a large, fat envelope. “Well, go on, have a look.”

Lucy picked up the folder and leafed through the contents, her eyes widening. She looked at Pierre. “You’re going to the Isle of Man?”

We’re going to the Isle of Man,” Pierre emphasised. “Look it’s all arranged. Ferry tickets, hotel reservations and…” he picked up the envelope and opened it. “A whole stack of cash,” he announced triumphantly.

“Oh, but…” Lucy hesitated.

“No buts, my beautiful Lucy, it’ll be fun.” Pierre paused and looked up at her with his large brown eyes. “Come on, what d’you say? It’s just a couple of days… and we’ll be able to really get to know each other.” He watched her frown and then as she stroked the ruby, her expression changed.

“I say…yes. Yes, I want to go. I really want to go,” she laughed. “Why not?”

“Right, well, first things first, let’s get some breakfast.”

Lucy was frowning again. “But where did all this come from?” she asked, pointing at the case.

“I have contacts.” Pierre touched his finger to the side of his nose.

“In the middle of the night?”

“Hey, don’t worry about it.”

“Well, okay, fine.” Lucy shrugged.

Pierre was already on the bedside phone ordering half the breakfast menu from room service. Lucy threw back the sheets and padded over to the bathroom. “…and we’ll be staying another night…” she heard Pierre say as she closed the door behind her.

Lucy removed her necklace before stepping into the shower. She closed her eyes and let the hot water cascade over her shoulders. As she reached for the shower gel she stopped. What have I got myself into? Those men…? She finished showering abruptly and flung one of the thick, fluffy bathrobes around herself. Lucy wiped her hand over the steamed up surface of the mirror and stared at her reflection. Everything had happened so fast. She noticed a dark bruise on her wrist and remembered how she had felled one of their attackers. She shuddered. Suddenly, Lucy was full of doubt and alarm. Heart pounding, she gripped the edge of the wash basin tightly, trying to calm down.

The bathroom door opened and Pierre’s face appeared behind hers. He picked up the necklace and held it around Lucy’s neck. A beam of sunlight from the bathroom window fell on the ruby. Its reflection glowed in the mirror bathing both their faces in a warm red glow. Lucy smiled. All her worries melted away. She felt Pierre pressing himself against her.

There was a knock at the door. “Room service,” a man’s voice called from the corridor. Pierre let go of the necklace and grabbing the other bathrobe, bounded to the door. Lucy pulled her robe tightly around her, tucking the necklace into the pocket, and followed him back into the bedroom.

Pierre opened the door to find a large, balding man beaming at him from behind a laden trolley. “Breakfast is served, sir,” he announced, wheeling the trolley over to the table by the window. “I’m Harold by the way,” he said as he busied himself laying the table for them. Table laid, he paused with his hand on the trolley ready to go and looked deliberately at Pierre. Pierre strode across the room and opened the bedroom door. Harold tutted loudly as he wheeled the trolley into the corridor.

Pierre closed the door and joined Lucy at the table. “I think he was expecting a tip,” Lucy said as he sat down.

Pierre shrugged. “I leave him something later,” he rubbed his hands together then picked up his knife and fork. “Well, let’s dig in.”

Lucy hadn’t realised how hungry she was until her breakfast was in front of her. Pierre was the same, judging by the speed at which he was putting his food away. As they ate in silence, Lucy’s mind started to race and she lost her appetite. She put her knife and fork down and pushed her plate away.

“Pierre,” Lucy hesitated.

Pierre looked up. “What’s the matter?”

“I’m just…I don’t know…those men last night. The one I hit, I don’t know what got into me. All that blood on the floor. What if I killed him?”

Pierre stood up and walked around the table. He crouched down beside her. “We were running for our lives Lucy.”

“But why, Pierre? You said they were following you. Who are they?”

“Come and sit by me,” he took Lucy’s hand and together they went and sat on the bed.

“One of them said they were after the necklace?” Lucy’s hand went to her neck.

Pierre turned to her and took both of her hands in his. “Lucy, from the first moment I met you I knew you were special.” He took a deep breath. “And now I need to tell you the truth.” Or some of it, he thought to himself. “Those men work for someone I’ve done a bit of business with now and then. Your necklace…and it is yours…I gave it to you,” he looked at her earnestly before continuing. “I originally got it for him, but when I met you I knew it should be yours.”

“So he wants it back?” Lucy freed her hand from Pierre’s and took the necklace out of the pocket of her bathrobe.

“Listen, Lucy. I gave it to you and I want you to keep it. It’s special. And I told Chan…that’s his name…that I’d get him something else. I have people working on that now,” he finished grandly.

Lucy looked at the glowing ruby, at how it caught the light and how the six-pointed star moved over its surface when she tilted it. “You could give it back to him?”

“No way,” Pierre said, taking the necklace from her and fastening it around her neck. “I told you, it’ll be sorted by the time we get back from the Isle of Man, we just have to lie low until tomorrow. In any case, I’m sure we’ve lost them by now.”

Lucy stroked the stone, feeling less anxious. “This Mr. Chan, he knows you.”

“Sure, but he doesn’t know where to find me. And now we’re going away.”

Lucy frowned. “I’ll need to go home and get some stuff.”

“No need. I’m going to take you shopping.”

“But Pierre, nothing’s open on a Sunday. Besides, you just said we should lie low.”

“That’s where the tunnels come in handy. Come on, get dressed,” he said, pulling her to her feet.

Ten minutes later they were outside the door to their room. Pierre had put most of the contents of the leather case in the safe. Lucy had wondered whether she should put the necklace in there too, but had decided to wear it after all. She was overdressed anyway, not that anyone was going to see them, Pierre had assured her.

Hand in hand they made their way to the foyer. A whole crowd of people were checking out so no-one noticed them as they ducked through the side door into the bar beyond. As Pierre and Lucy disappeared into the tunnels, a Chinese gentleman approached Harold in the busy foyer. He said something before tucking a five pound note into Harold’s top pocket.

©2018 Chris Hall

Go to Chapter 13

Check-in

Chapter 10 of my work-in-progress novel, ‘You’ll Never Walk Alone’.
Visit https://lunasonline.wordpress.com/wip-novel/ to read from the start.

From the moment the lift doors swished closed Lucy and Pierre couldn’t keep their hands off each other. Still entwined, Lucy grappled with the key and they burst into the room. Pierre kicked the door shut. Within moments they crashed onto the large double bed, leaving a trail of discarded garments behind them.

Lucy quivered feeling his hot breath on her neck as Pierre ran his hands over her nakedness. As his head moved down his long hair swept over her belly and she gasped with pleasure. Leaving her on the edge of ecstasy, he raised his head and grinned up at her, eyes glinting in the dim light from the street outside. Then his lips were on hers and Lucy tasted her saltiness on them.

Lucy reached for him, guiding him inside her. She arched her back meeting his thrusts, deeper and deeper. She wrapped her legs tightly around his hips, her fingers raking his back. At last he shuddered and relaxed against her. Lucy moaned in the ecstasy of the moment, clinging onto him as she convulsed with satisfaction. Sated, they nestled together and then, wrapped in each other’s arms they drifted, united on a sea of carnal pleasure.

***

Pierre’s eyes snapped open. Lucy, his beautiful Lucy, was there next to him, sound asleep. In the dim orange light he could see she was smiling ever so slightly. Perhaps she always looked like this when she was asleep. He rubbed his eyes replaying the events of the past few hours. They had a problem. He had a problem. It was he who’d dragged her into this mess. Not by intention, but by sheer…oh, what was the point in recrimination? He needed to get this sorted. He slid out of bed carefully so as not to wake her, crept around the bed and then silently put on his clothes. He picked up the gold envelope and slid it carefully into the bedside drawer beside Lucy.

Pierre slipped out of the room and started to pace the corridor. Albie Chan was clearly not a man to be trifled with. Maybe he’d underestimated him. What was so important about the ruby anyway? Okay, Chan had been interested in the piece, but Pierre had seen many other jewels where the ruby necklace had come from and he was confident he could still obtain something just as appealing to the him. But was it worth the risk? He would need more time and already he’d put Lucy in enough danger. He could simply return the ruby. But no, he wanted her to keep the ruby.

Pierre shook his head. He really couldn’t face telling Lucy the truth. Not yet. From the moment he had seen her, then danced with her that first night and afterwards when they had gone on…he had to admit it, he was obsessed with her. He wanted to…had to…hold onto her. Pierre stopped his pacing and stood still for a moment, then he turned on his heel and made for the stairs.

Pierre moved silently through the hotel and back down into the tunnel system. This time he took a different route. People would be amazed at what lay beneath the everyday streets of Liverpool. Not only was there a network of tunnels, there was a network of people all hidden within this shady underworld. Here there were people who lived out of the mainstream or led separate existences. These were people with secrets, people with powers. And Aurora, who many years ago had taken Pierre under her wing, was one of them.

His destination wasn’t far. Double checking that he was unobserved, Pierre climbed a narrow metal ladder which led up to a battered wooden door. He opened it and slipped through into the darkness beyond. He took the worn stone steps two at a time arriving at another door. This door was modern, made of steel plate with an electronic lock. Pierre punched a number into the key pad and the door unlocked with a loud metallic click. The door opened into a carpeted hallway which was lit by a succession of wall lamps. There was a flight of stairs to the left. Pierre hurried up to the first landing and paused in front of an imposing set of carved wooden doors.

At that moment one of the doors opened and a man appeared carrying a silver tray. If he were surprised by Pierre’s presence he didn’t show it, he merely nodded and held the door open for Pierre to enter.

Pierre stepped over the threshold, struck immediately by the heat of the roaring fire in the huge fireplace at the far end of the large, high-ceilinged room. Two tall, wing-backed chairs faced the fireplace. An arm appeared from the one on the left and a single finger beckoned him to approach.

***

It was some time later when Lucy awoke. At first she wasn’t sure where she was. Then the events and emotions of earlier came back to her: the delight at winning the dancing competition, the fear and excitement when those men were chasing them and the ensuing fight; Lucy shuddered at the memory of the man she’d struck lying on the floor, blood pooling around his head. Then those weird tunnels and…but where was Pierre? The bed was empty.

Switching on the bedside lamp and called his name softly, but there was no reply. She wrapped the top sheet around her and padded across the thick carpet to the bathroom. It was empty. Turning back towards the bed she saw that his clothes had gone. Hers were strewn across the floor where she had cast them off with such abandon. There was no sign of the gold envelope with what remained of their prize money after they’d paid for the room. She got back into bed and gathered the sheet around her. Where was he? Had he just left her? She raised her hand to her throat, feeling for her necklace.

Her fingers stroked the ruby gently. She looked down, watching as it caught the light, revealing the special star hidden in its depths. What was it that Cynth had said about it? Passionate, unbridled love? Well, that part had been right. She felt a thrill run through her body. Suddenly her heart was pumping.

But where was he? Lucy looked at the radio-alarm clock on the bedside table, 03:17.

©2018 Chris Hall

Go to Chapter 11