Hey guys,

So I thought for this post I wanted to bring something more entertaining. I felt most of my posts might not have been as fun as I’d have liked, and I wanted to give you guys something to read while my books are still coming down the pike.

Hopefully, it won’t be too much longer. Hello Future Me on YouTube had an excellent video on pacing to help with my middle-grade fantasy. The next entry in the Vestige Saga has picked up steam as well.

Book One will be 99 cents tomorrow. So if you know anyone who might be interested, please send them my way, and it’d be much appreciated. I’m trying to bring more traffic to my books.

But in the meantime, I heard a phrase and thought “that would make a great first line. I have to write this.” So here’s a rough preview.  Let me know your thoughts.

This is out of my usual genre and style a tad, but I feel it turned out well. I took some inspiration from fellow indie authors Jail Henry’s World Breacher series, and J Sharpe’s Syndrome

Enjoy!

The Veldt

“You are now under my control,” the man whispered.

The pendulum-like chain swayed side to side obscuring all vision. Slow ticks echoed across the walls of dead silence, and then nothing.

“Listen only to the sound of my voice,” his whispers called behind the veil. “You are falling into a deep sleep, and when you awaken, you’ll remember nothing of our time together. Nod if you agree.”

The world bobbed in her eyes.

“Good. Now about your insomnia. Let’s fix that, shall we? Picture this. You’re in a veldt, a scorched savanna. The grass bows like seas of open green.  Isn’t it beautiful? Close your eyes and see.”

The clock ticked. The world nodded.

“The sun beats so hot. So hot you feel you’d melt. Sweat drips from your brow, sweet and sticky. You have to wipe it away from your eyes. You work hard.”

A burning red sphere beat down from the sky. The air suffocated her like a wet sponge. Tears welled staring at the sun.

 “The fields surrounding you have no end. You see mountains in distance so tall they touch the sky. Can you see them?”

The world shook. Mountains of the softest purple rose disturbing the sunset. 

“They are black silhouettes, charcoal smudges across the burning horizon. The wind blows cool across your cheeks. You’re all alone yet feel peace, a peace you can’t explain. All is calm. You’re safe. Peace lives with you.”

GONG.

Her eyes opened. The grandfather clock chimed twelve times. Mr. Winslow lowered his pocket watch and stuffed it in his coat pocket. He wiped his wrinkled brow with his handkerchief and adjusted his spectacles. His bald head shined from the lamp beside him.

“How do you feel?”

The police officer bit her cheek and pulled at her arm. Her blond hair pair down the middle a bushy blond. She thought herself how much she hated her bangs.

“About the same,” she said.

“Pity,” he spat. “I suppose I’m not a very good hypnotist then.

She scratched her head.

This had to be the strangest person she’d interviewed in all her years on the force. She shook her head. There was no way this wack-a-doo medium had any information on the case. “He’s lucky I am desperate,” she thought.

Mr. Winslow collapsed in his armchair across from me. The rain picked up outside and pecked at the window vanes.

 “Perhaps some good old-fashioned therapy will cure you. What’s on your mind, Officer, um…”

He leaned in to read her badge.

“Blanchette. But you can call me Claire.”

Winslow stroked his chin in thought.

“Blanchette? That’s French, isn’t it?”

Claire smiled with a nod.

“How appropriately named you are. The noble blond lady of valor. You’d prove a worthy adversary for any of hell’s minions.”

She laughed and curled her hair.

“Well, I won’t be Miss Blanchette for too long.”

She bit her lip and flashed a ring. The old man gritted his teeth and squinted for a better look. He patted her hand.

“How very lucky you are. Tell me, what troubles the young bride to be?”

Claire sighed and slouched in the chair. Her eyes sunk to the floor. A calico cat weaved through her legs and flicked its tail. It meowed and stared up at her longing for attention.

“You see it’s this case. We believe someone’s targeting the women of the area. And recently, my partner went missing. When we tried to interview her ex—well.”

She swallowed. The cat meowed again, and Winslow pulled the bristled cat to his feet.

“It wasn’t pretty. They had executed him in his sleep. Very graphic details, and well it’s still under investigation, I’m afraid.”

Winslow sunk in his chair and nodded seeming to understand.

“I’m sorry.”

She rested her chin on her hands. The cat hypnotically swatted at Winslow’s shoestrings and rolled on its back.

“Now I have no leads and I’m all alone in this case,” she sobbed,

Winslow snatched the spinning cat off the floor and patted her knee.

“I’m sorry. It’s a terrible thing to be alone. But you’re not. Don’t be too hard on yourself.”

Claire shook her head. Her hand cupped her face and amplified her cries.

“But Mr. Winslow you don’t understand,” She said. “Amber’s in danger. We’ve been friends since kindergarten. There must be something I can do, right?”

Winslow sighed. The cat played in his lap. Slashes and purple splotches rose his bony arms.

“I envy you, Claire. Most would have called it quits long ago, but you’ve looked for a way out where others wouldn’t. People need more optimism and frankly hope nowadays. Have you seen the news? Terrible filth.

“Now I’ll be honest.  Most mediums are swindlers. We pray upon that weakness, the curious and youthful. And we don’t keep too many friends for it.  I mean, there’s no one for me to pass my talents. Kitty Soft Paws here is all I have.”

He lifted the cat and kissed her head. The cat drooped with a pathetic whimper. Its tail hid between its legs.

“But you Miss Claire, deserve better. I’ll make you a deal because I do love having company.

“As a medium, I’m required to tell you that ‘forces aren’t playing fair with you,’ and ‘I’ll confront the spirits for you.’ All that hocus pocus jazz.

“So here’s the deal, I’ll pass on what I know and have learned to you, but only if you do your part by keeping that pretty chin up and visiting me whenever you feel alone, deal?”

Claire wiped her eyes. Winslow handed her a tissue.

“Thank you. I appreciate the offer, but I don’t know if I can.”

Kitty Soft Paws stared her down. Winslow raked his bony members down her back. The Calico bristled.

“You said, you felt alone. All I’m offering is someone to talk to, something to keep you happy. I’ll do the investigating, and you’ll cling to that precious hope of yours. Don’t you want that peace of mind?”

Claire swore she saw the cat shake its head. Then again, she swore she smelt catnip. The office carried that old people smell that’s a cross between mothballs and lye soap.

“Well, I wouldn’t want to impose,” she said.

“Impose?” Winslow batted his hand. His eyebrows knitted and scoffed at the idea. “. My dear child, do you see any customers? I enjoy company. Why, I desire a legion of many fine clients like yourself. You have your life ahead of you.”

“I thought you said your work was all Mumbo Jumbo.”

Winslow blushed as his web of lies crashed down around him. He stroked his chin contemplating his next move.

“More or less. Not everything, but I have to keep some mystery. As you can imagine, I might be a bit too honest to keep my customers,” he said feigning a laugh.

Kitty turned to the two back and forth. She purred to herself. Winslow looked down and raised his eyebrows. He pulled out his watch and started polishing.

“Just think about it. Miss Soft Paws seems to like you, and she’s an excellent judge of character.”

Claire reached and stroked behind her ears. Kitty revved like BMW and bowed to her as if she was an old friend. She flicked her tail in delight. The calico seemed just as lonely as he was.

 Winslow continued, “Of course, if you have any other leads, by all means, don’t let me stop you.”  

“I’ll do it.”

Kitty’s head shot up. Winslow grinned.

“You will? Splendid. Now I’m free the same time tomorrow, do we have a deal?”

Winslow held his hand out to shake. The cat swatted and nibbled on his arm.

Claire smiled and shook on it.

“Deal.”

The cat fled from his lap as the clock chimed again.

“Excellent. Now it’s well past noon, and I’ve taken too much of your time already humoring an old man. I wish you luck in your case.”

Claire stood up and exhaled. A weight fell from her shoulders.

“Thank you for your time, Mr. Winslow. I feel a tad better now.”

The old man grinned.

“No, thank you, Claire. I do enjoy your company. Oh, and our little hypnosis session is on the house.”

“Thank you so much.”

Winslow’s fingers drummed in a steeple.

“Anything for the boys in blue. Well, girls but you know.”

Claire rubbed her eyes with a smirk.

 He showed her to the door and even offered an umbrella for the rain. And as the door shut behind her, the air sunk even cooler. It was the kind of air that makes your lungs wet and thirsty for more, and every breath sinks ten times deeper.

As the puddles splashed beneath her feet, the clock tower ticked in the town square. Strangely, she felt young again. Perhaps there was some magic in the world after all.

Meanwhile, inside the medium’s office, Winslow watched from the window. He closed the curtains and directed a sinister smile at “Kitty Soft Paws.”

“Don’t hate it when they don’t play fair, Amber?” Mr. Winslow sneered.

The cat’s ears bent as she cowered in the corner.

“Poor Claire, so close yet so far away.”

The cat hissed. He bent held the cat by the scruff.

“Poor kitty. So weak, so defenseless. If only I hadn’t declawed you, maybe then you’d stand a threat to demons.”

Amber shrunk in his arms as he walked.

“Yes, insomnia is a simple fix. All she needs to sleep well is to find her happy place like I’ve found mine.”

A picture of the Namibian veldt hung by the fireplace. He pulled a handle behind it and a false wall opened. Winslow stared down the stairs and Amber swiped at the wall without finding purchase.

“Come now, dearest. You wouldn’t want to miss the show, now would you? You’re the star after all.”

Winslow descended the stone steps massaging the cat on the way down with his knobby wands for fingers. Amber’s mews for help echoed down the corridor.  On the frigid cellar floor, a blue uniform was strewn across the ground. A woman sat bound to the chair, and Winslow pulled out his watch.

She laid drooling with her head resting on her shoulder.

“My, my, Amber, look how you’ve let yourself go.”

 Amber nipped his hand to escape.

Winslow chuckled and tightened his grip on the calico. Thunder cracked outside. The chain fell and swayed.

“It makes no matter how much you struggle. You’re now under my control.”