~ DAY 10: I’ll Be Home For Christmas ~

Day 10: Christmas wouldn’t be Christmas without a Victorian ghost story!

~ DAY 6: Holly & Ivy ~

Day 6: A little story about how even the most broken couples, are blessed with a Christmas miracle.

The Silent Prison ~ A Flash Fiction Story

The Silent Prison He’s languishing in there. I can feel it. I don’t need to see him to know how he feels, just looking at those God forsaken walls are enough. What do I do? Cross the road and walk through those wrought iron gates, with my head held high, back stiff and lips pouting…

Present Tense vs. Past Tense. Which is best?

  It’s a dilemma us writers battle with all too often. We sit down at our computers or notebooks, ready to feel our story pour onto the page when… suddenly.. we don’t know where to begin. Which time to we want to drag our readers into? Past or present? Now or then? You would think…

The House That Jack Built ~ A Short Story

After watching the Nicole Kidman classic, ‘The Others,’ last night on Netflix, I decided to revisit my haunted mind and publish one of my ghost stories on here. I had a little dig through my computer and found this. It was a story I started writing last year, and thought I’d upload one my shorts….

The Accident

This is a short story based on a dream I had a few nights ago. It kind of stemmed into a theme of – how far will you go to fix a mistake? THE ACCIDENT It was a cold, wet January afternoon when I was startled out of my reverie. A sharp knock at the…

The Other Side of The Door

Here’s a short story I scribbled, about a couple trying to communicate with each other following a tragic accident. The Other Side of The Door It was around mid-November that the telephone started to sound like whining, bawling monster. Becky sat on her chair by the window, hunched in the corner like a wounded cat….

FROM MY TIME TO YOURS

Here is a small excerpt of a novella I started…. I’m not sure if I shall continue it but here it is anyway! FROM MY TIME TO YOURS Thomas Milden skidded to a halt, just on the cusp of Covent Garden square. He rested his palms on his knees, panting. His lungs felt heavy, struggling…