Author Archives: Lisa Shambrook

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About Lisa Shambrook

An author and dreamer who loves dragons... Author www.lisashambrook.com and owner Amaranth Alchemy on Etsy etsy.com/uk/shop/AmaranthAlchemy

#Read about Guest #Author Lisa Shambrook

I’m featured today on The Story Reading Ape’s fabulous blog!

Chris The Story Reading Ape's avatarChris The Story Reading Ape's Blog

Lisa-Shambrook-Author-Photo-206kb-the-last-krystallosEssentially I’m a writer and dreamer who loves dragons… Dragons are peppered across my flash fiction with dangerous regularity… see HERE… yes, I warned you! But despite my love of these fabled, glorious creatures, they haven’t made it into a published novel – yet. They are waiting in the wings though – see what I did there?

On a more serious note, because that’s what I am, a dreamer who probably takes herself much too seriously, my words will touch your soul.

My words began when I was old enough to hold a pencil. I etched out ideas in both sketch and word and elaborated with both forms. I was the proverbial child who lived within a dream and didn’t want to slide back into reality. I was the quiet one who drew spirals and stars where equations should be, and lost track of time in English and Art.

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FlashMob: Time

blue boc, the doctor, Doctor Who, flash mob writes,

© Lisa Shambrook

My mouth curls upwards, unconsciously. Excitement pounds within my heart and my legs wobble, just for a moment.

“Are you coming?” he calls, turning back. His eyes pierce me; they’re green, as green as a peridot gemstone, and just as glistening.

Again, for a moment, I can’t speak. I just stand and gaze. He grins back, a boyish smile in a face that defies years, but speaks of youth and adventure. My heart slams against my ribs.

“Yes,” I whisper, as he fidgets and sweeps a hand through his auburn hair. The light, flashing behind him lights up his silhouette giving him a halo. I giggle. “Yes, I’m coming!”

I pull my wibbly legs together and set off after him, at a run to keep up. His stride lengthens and my heart leaps as my feet thump the pavement.

His coat flows like a cape, like a long gothic cloak, and for another moment, I imagine a deerstalker on his head, but no, this is not Sherlock…and I am not Watson.

His boots, buckled and studded, rap on the ground and I catch up. He turns to me again, not missing a step as I stumble beneath his gaze.

“You’re good with this?” he asks, that twinkle seeping into my very soul.

I nod. “Oh, yes, I’m good with this!” I reply.

Pale freckles, saturated by lamplight, dance upon his cheeks, across his nose, and I can barely restrain myself from reaching up and pushing his red hair out of his eyes. He shakes his hair away from his face.

“So,” he pauses, literally, and I almost run into him. “When did you know?”

“Kn-know what?” I stammer.

“When did you know you were coming with me?” His eyes search mine and I lower my face, staring at my shoes. His hand immediately lifts my chin and I cannot help but stare into those eyes.  If I didn’t know already, then this would be the moment! I cannot speak, my tongue is lost, and my heart threatens to explode from my chest.

“Secretly, I think you knew when we had lunch, that first day…” he grins.

And he’s right. My mind scrolls back, to the day we’d run, so much running, but we’d stopped to eat, finally famished.

I nod. “The fish fingers and custard did it for me!” I smile.

He cocks his head and stares deeply into my eyes then let’s go of my face and chuckles. “Yep, that’s often the moment!” Then he’s gone, again, striding ahead.

“Doctor!” I call, “Wait for me…”

My heart is yet again in my mouth as I round the corner and there he is, leaning against the doorway of the blue box, pooled in white light and promises of adventure…

(459 words)

Flash Mob, flash fiction challenge, flash mob writes,A new flash fiction challenge from Flash Mob Writes…choose your prompt and write 300 – 500 words…enjoy!

Visual Dare: Elite

Photo Source

Photo Source

She carved and built, delicately working her fingers, all month, barely stopping. This time she could help, she could do more than hold a banner, or be chained to a gate, this time she could really make a difference!

They laughed at her, the others, but they’d see.

When Maggie scoffed at the idea of a tree house, River bit her lip and bided her time. When Maggie chained herself to the old oak, River kept working. When they cut Maggie’s chains and the bulldozers moved in, River set down her tools and waited.

They laughed, when they saw it, they howled and snickered, but River watched as the engines growled.

It was the faces at the windows, tiny faces, peaked ears and delicate fingers pressed against River’s tiny panes of glass that stopped the laughter.

No motorway would ever cut through the ancient wood that housed fabled little folk…

(150 words)

00. VisDare Badge

A tale of survival and whimsy…read the others at Anonymous Legacy’s Visual Dare, and enjoy x

Family Photoshoot – Post Apocalyptic Survivors

Sometimes family life feels a little like surviving the apocalypse – and with the genre so popular right now – we decided to go dystopian with our family photoshoot!

dystopian, post apocalyptic, photoshoot, family photo, family portrait, the last krystallos, arkhdrauth cosplay,
We’re ready…

It had to be something big…Dan is going away for two years and we wanted to do something epic! So we sourced and customised clothes, made weaponry and set out to Pembrey Country Park. The old, hidden munitions tunnels were perfect!

dystopian, post apocalyptic, photoshoot, family photo, family portrait, the last krystallos, arkhdrauth cosplay,
What’s in there?

Cait, Dan and Rayn looked the part, with dystopian designs and post apocalyptic accessories!

Survivors...
Survivors

Roxy accompanied us, ready to chase off attackers…

dystopian, post apocalyptic, photoshoot, family photo, family portrait, the last krystallos, arkhdrauth cosplay,
Nothing’s getting past us…

And I showed off my kick ass scar…

dystopian, post apocalyptic, photoshoot, family photo, family portrait, the last krystallos, arkhdrauth cosplay,
Don’t even try it…

We made it out of the bunker and scared off the enemy…

dystopian, post apocalyptic, photoshoot, family photo, family portrait, the last krystallos, arkhdrauth cosplay,
War cry!

And we were ready for anything…

dystopian, post apocalyptic, photoshoot, family photo, family portrait, the last krystallos, arkhdrauth cosplay,
Battle ready…

It was cold, very cold – but also epic, very epic!

dystopian, post apocalyptic, photoshoot, family photo, family portrait, the last krystallos, arkhdrauth cosplay,
Hardened survivors…

All photos were taken with Rayn’s Nokia Lumia 1020 via tripod, and we had lots of fun falling over on that grassy hill, so that may be why we don’t look so post apocalyptic serious!

Weapons were made from children’s toys spray-painted matt black, Vince’s bullet belt is literally made from a belt and gold spray-painted batteries held on with black electrical tape!

Hair and make-up all by Rayn, and Rayn’s antlers come from the amazing Hysteria Machine!

We put together our own outfits, lots of ripping, tearing, cheese grating and painting to distress.

So, we’ve done Steampunk, railway tracks, snow, and more…what next? Who knows?

What would you do for a family photoshoot?

All of the things...
All of the things…

You can find me, Lisa, on my website and Facebook, and Rayn at https://rayncloud.art. We also run an Etsy shop Amaranth Alchemy…come and visit us and like us on Facebook to know about all our latest special offers!

Visual Dare: Tempest

Photo Source Lisa Falzon

Photo Source Lisa Falzon

He shivered and she slowly turned her soft gaze to meet his. “Sorry,” he whispered, the words barely leaving his mouth as he leaned down to meet her lips. Her lips were pale and cold, and her eyes tired and dark with shadows. He shivered again.

Her lips moved and he strained to hear the words that hid behind them. “Tell me…”

Goosebumps spread across his arms and he felt the hair on the back of his neck rise. He swallowed the lump in his throat. “I love you.” He nuzzled her wispy hair, the stray blond curl that escaped the scarf around her head. “I will love you now, today, tomorrow and forever.”

He wished fervently that he could extract the tempest that threatened to explode through his chest. He wished his vitality, his life, could feed through the tubes and perform the job that chemotherapy couldn’t.

He wished.

(150 Words)

00. VisDare Badge

I adored this picture, who wouldn’t? We all have tempests within, and this spoke to me of love. Written for Anonymous Legacy and Visual Dare 86, pop over and read the other tales inspired by this beautiful picture.

Of Mist and Magic – Really Slow Motion

If you adore the epic in life and the magic of mist and mystic…then this book of reimagined fairy tales is for you. Under the influence of Really Slow Motion‘s beautiful music, ‘Of Mist and Magic‘, fairy tales are reinvented and brought to you inside an enchanting anthology of short stories, in an exclusive Amazon companion book ‘Of Mist and Magic‘.

All proceeds go to the youth organisation Elevate Life and Art Studios.

My story is a contemporary retelling of The Little Match Girl by Hans Christian Anderson and the accompanying piece of music is Flames of Glory by Ivan Torrent

Of Mist and Magic By the Light of Stars

of-mist-and-magic_book-cover

Links to buy: Of Mist and Magic eBook: Amazon UK, Amazon US

Of Mist and Magic _Really Slow Motion

Of Mist and Magic – Really Slow Motion Album: Amazon UK, Amazon US, iTunes, Bandcamp

Blogs: Samantha Redstreake Geary read her tale Of Dreams and Daring
and find a snippet of Ruth Long’s tale Rooted at Bullish Ink.

The book is a bargain at less than £1…if you’ve read and enjoyed these snippets, you’ll be longing to read it! Dip into some mist and magic and enchantment…

Blues Buster: Long Black Curl

Narrow, dark green leaves coupled with deep pink flowers, rustled in the breeze above his head and Isaac’s chest softly rose and fell. Heavy, rheumy eyes, tinged pink with fatigue, fluttered open and through a glassy haze he gazed.  Orange sunlight flooded the bower, as scattered evening sunbeams danced upon the flora, and a whisper lightly waltzed through the expectant crowd.

Isaac stroked the silken coverlet overdressed with gossamer lace, with gnarled, freckled hands and felt his heart whimper beneath his ribs. Time was running out.

Deep beneath the trees that surrounded his bower, whispers made it to his ears and he chuckled, a coughing and half choking sound that alarmed his family and made him want to laugh all the more. His muscles ached, a fever left him barely the right side of conscious, and his heart fluttered like the butterfly that settled on the clusters of pink flowers above his pillow. He closed his eyes and courted the sigh that rippled in response.

He felt a hand, a strong hand, grip his. The warmth of the hand pumped life into his cold fingers and his heart raced, leaping and bounding within the cage of ribs. His other hand was grasped with the same vigour, as his other son lifted his father’s hand to his lips and kissed it gently. Not to be outdone the first son placed a kiss on his father’s hand too and gently plumped the duckling down pillow behind his head.

As the two sons fought to outshine each other the sun slipped below the horizon and took its gold light with it. The moon’s silver touched the trees and sent glittering rays through the canopy. As Isaac opened his eyes again, he shook away his sons and painfully lifted his hands to his face. He rubbed his eyes and gazed across the glade.

Despite the warring clans, the neighbouring fae had sent an honourable representative and he stood beneath the sweet oleander and holly trees. He stood tall and unwavering and accompanied by his young wife. Isaac smiled, and nodded in recognition and then gazed at his sons.

Two golden-haired boys sat either side of him, both tight-lipped and taut, and instead of watching him they watched each other with glares of righteous arrogance.

Isaac sighed and both sons turned to stare, breath bated, hands again gripping his tight. Their expectant gaze vexed the fairy-king and he decided the choice would not be made.

He cleared his throat and watched the greed and hunger pool in their eyes, before averting his and speaking softly. He spoke so softly the boys had to lean in close to hear. They both sprang away in disbelief dropping their father’s hands like hot coals.

Isaac lifted his heavy head and touched his beard. His fingers ran through the thick grey hair, and he let out a laugh. He beckoned across the dell and the young fae knight dressed in embroidered silver frowned and stepped forward.

“Not you…” croaked the king, “your wife…”

His wife, not yet out of her teens, started like a deer and fingered her long ebony locks in nervous unease. Isaac nodded and she stepped lightly across the grass to his mossy bed.

She held out her hand as the king again ran his through his beard. “Your hair,” he murmured, “black as the night, ebony like the raven, as dark as mine once was.”

She nodded, anxiety clouding her face.

“You’re as beautiful as your mother, and not a product of your unseeded father…” He chuckled coarsely. “My sons can fight, can gouge each other’s eyes out, but neither are worthy of my crown. You, my dear, are married to an honest man, a man who can bring peace to the vale. And as my crown once sat upon my head of curls, it will spend its days upon your long black curls… It is fitting, young Daphne, that, along with my crown, the fragrant clusters above my head are yours, sweet daughter…”

(669 Words)

A fairy tale for Blues Buster this week…prompt song is from the ethereal, fae-kissed music of neo-pagan band Tuatha Dae – “Long Black Curl”.

The Extraordinary Art of Writing Short Stories

Tips to help you write extraordinary short stories.

I love dipping into an eclectic mix of short tales. Picking up an anthology or collection of shorts whilst waiting in the car for my kids, or reading while working out on the elliptical with my Kindle app on my phone, delights me and utilises what could be wasted time!

Books containing great short stories...

Books containing great short stories…

There’s an art to a short story, and it takes a well-practised writer to get it right. There’s nothing worse than dipping into a tale, finishing it in a few pages and having no reaction. That meh feeling just doesn’t cut it.

You need to be short, sharp, and succinct, and have enough story to make the tale worth telling.

A short story needs to tell a tale in very few words, it needs to grab you and not let you go, it needs to pull you in, swirl you about and throw you back out again! It needs to elicit a reaction. Very often that reaction will either be a smile, a laugh, or a shock, but it has to be a reaction nonetheless. It’s dreadful to read a short and feel you’re just dipping into someone’s high school level homework. Don’t make short stories ordinary, make them extraordinary!

If you’re writing romance, boy-down-the-road meets girl-up-the-road… Shake it up. Don’t give me four or five pages of boy thinking about girl, meeting unexpectedly, and falling in love right away. Shake it up, turn it around…maybe the boy is blind, maybe she walks by every day, she might like him, but not be confident enough to speak – then one day she trips and knocks into him, he recalls her scent and catches her hand… Make me breathe their attraction; make me feel their confusion and their nerves…let the story catch fire!

If the story’s been done before – and let’s face it, most have – what can you do to change it up, twist it, make it different, make it new and inspiring, turn the cliché upside-down? What’s your USP (Unique Selling Point) or as I like UTP – Unique Telling Point! What’s your style?

I honed my writing skills writing Flash Fiction and I hugely recommend it. You learn a vast amount by reading flash fiction, and then by writing it. Most Flash Fiction prompts are words, photos or music. You’re given a set of rules to follow and you create a piece within a particular number of words. It teaches brevity and that every word counts, editing skills, the importance of content, beginnings and endings, grammar, and basic story-telling to name but a few.

I’ve taken part in a variety of flash fiction, and still do. I delight in both writing to a set prompt, expanding my voices and genres, and sharing my work with those around me. My short flash fiction, shared on my blog, serves as an advert for my novels.  If you like my flash, read my books!

Take a look at these short tales on some of my favourite blogs, see how the stories work, how they elicit a reaction, and you’ll see why you need to read more from these writers! Tinker My Heart – A Jar of Fireflies, Dancing at Whitsun – Cubic Scats, Duty – One More Leaf, The Apothecary’s Art – The Last Krystallos, Uninterrupted – Jo Cannon, and At the Museum – Searching for Ingleside. (Several of these pieces are Flash Fiction contest winners)

A short story collection or being included in a compendium or anthology can be great for an author especially an indie author. It’s a way for readers to get to know your writing, your style, without needing to buy your full length novels. This is also a major reason why getting the short story right is so important. If you write shorts badly, they may never move on to your other writing. Share whatever you want on your blog for free, let readers taste your writing, but only put your best work into a collection. If you’re publishing make it worth the money your reader is spending!

Don’t write ordinary tales, make them extraordinary!

When you’re choosing a collection of tales, don’t just read the reviews, make the most of the preview of the book that Amazon allows you to see…take a look at the writing, see if it’s for you..

Cutthroats and Curses a Pirate Anthology, The Anthology Club

Cutthroats and Curses

If you want to read some amazing collections – try these, tried and tested and brilliant works, and something for everyone. And I’ll stick my neck out and say of you want to read a fantastic short pick up ‘Cutthroats and Curses’ and read Beth Avery’s ‘ Roaring Dan Seavey…’, that’s how short stories should be written!

Once Upon a Time: A Collection of Unexpected Fairytales – SJI Holliday and Anna Meade

Finding  a Voice – Jeffrey Hollar

And the Angels Cried and Other Short Stories – Annette S. Thomson

Once Upon a Time, Finding a Voice, And the Angels Cried, Through the Portal, Anna Meade, SJI Holliday, Annette S Thomson, LaDonna Cole, Read Write Muse,

Once Upon a Time, Finding a Voice, And the Angels Cried, Through the Portal

Cutthroats and Curses: An Anthology of Pirates – Michael Wombat and The Anthology Club

Through the Portal – LaDonna Cole and Read Write Muse

Tales by the Tree, In Creeps the Night, Here be Dragons, Moonbeams and Fairies, JAMes Press, Hannah Steenbock, Rebecka Vigus,

Tales by the Tree, In Creeps the Night, Here be Dragons, Moonbeams and Fairies

Tales by the Tree: A Christmas Collection – J. A. Mes Press

In Creeps the Night: 50 Flash Fiction Horror Tales – J. A. Mes Press

Here Be Dragons – Hannah Steenbock

Of Moonbeams and Fairies – Rebecka Vigus (Childrens Tales)

Darrion, Burn, Moth Girl Versus the Bats, Marissa Ames, Daniel Swensen, Michael Wombat,

Darrion, Burn, Moth Girl Versus the Bats

Darrion – Marissa Ames

Burn – Daniel Swensen

Moth Girl Versus The Bats – Michael Wombat

And if you want to try, and read, some Flash Fiction…click on the sites below or my side bar, check out my Blues Buster stories which you can find a quick link to in my Categories.

Five Sentence FictionBlues BusterVisual DareThree Line ThursdayFlash! FridayHorror Bites

So, do you love short stories? What are your favourites and what makes them special?

Are you a Flash Fictioneer? If you want to know more of my Flash Fiction beginnings read:  Being a Flash Fictioneer (like a writing Musketeer…or something similar…). What’s your favourite site for Flash?

Five Sentence Fiction: Abandon

dragon tail, abandon, five sentence fiction, last krystallos

© Lisa Shambrook

Sabrina clasped Adam’s hand as they dashed into the split of rock at the foot of the towering cliff, and they tumbled to the floor in a giggling tangle of limbs and sodden clothes. Their hearts pounded and adrenalin surged, and the thin cotton t-shirts plastered to their skin held no further secrets.

Sabrina stared up into Adam’s dark eyes and let her fingers drag across his thigh, across his drenched jeans, her breath rasping with both exhaustion and desire. She forgot their picnic down in the meadow, now drowned beneath heaven’s cascade, and decided not to forsake her hunger…

The storm growled through the cave, like a rumbling belly, and behind the amorous couple a silent tail whipped patiently back and forth as the amused dragon’s main course and dessert quickly removed their packaging…

five sentence fiction

This prompt spoke to me in many ways…abandon…and this story idea made me smile, so I hope it tickled you too!

Fly over to Lillie McFerrin’s Five Sentence Fiction to see more!