Ten Things I Discovered Beneath…with Read Write Muse

I was invited by LaDonna Cole to offer up a Top Ten and the theme really made me think…so pop over to Read Write Muse and discover what lies beneath…

Read Write Muse

What have you discovered underneath or beneath? Let me know your stories too…

Inspired by my new release ‘Beneath the Old Oak’ available at Amazonfind out what Meg discovers beneath her beloved oak…

This is what LaDonna thought of ‘Beneath the Old Oak’:

‘A lightning bolt of a story that burns from the inside out.

Maneuvering through early teen years is difficult at best. Add a mother with mental illness, a family history riddled with mystery, and an ancient oak eager to share its secrets, and you have a beautifully poignant tale. Meg doesn’t know why her mother seems broken, but increasingly frightening incidents culminate in her sudden disappearance. Left to negotiate through grief and loss and the fear that she is also broken, Meg turns to her only stalwart friend, the ancient oak tree, guardian of the neighborhood’s best and worst moments. Journey with Meg through the sorrow and agony of a parent’s mental illness to discover a hidden path to healing her own bruised heart.

Beneath the Old Oak delves deeply into the helplessness of a family torn apart by depression, leaving hope scattered like fallen leaves.’

LaDonna Cole RN, BS, CAR Therapist and Author of Heartwork Village, Grief Recovery Curriculum.

BeneathOldOak_Cover_Amazon

Five Sentence Fiction: Envy

© Lisa Shambrook

© Lisa Shambrook

Kate’s eye twitched, and the corner of her pinched mouth began to rise, almost imperceptibly, but it did, curling into a sneer that even Kate wasn’t aware of. Slugs, not butterflies, churned in the pit of her stomach, writhing in the green acid of resentment as Kate sat across from her cheerful sister.

Emma chatted with purposefully casual words, and Kate gazed distractedly at the halo caused by the shaft of sunlight behind her sister’s bouncing ponytail.

Kate ignored the prickles that danced across her own skin and hurriedly retracted her hand as Emma tentatively reached across the table, squinting as both time and the sun moved slowly across the hall. Kate’s chest tightened as the warden called out and she caught Emma’s swallow and barely concealed smile, and her sister left with a spring in her step that her own stiff, burdened pace hadn’t seen in over two long years.

000. FSF Badge  June 2012

A visceral piece for Lillie McFerrin’s renowned Five Sentence Fiction…have a go yourself, with the prompt word Envy

Blues Buster: Drift

© Lisa Shambrook

© Lisa Shambrook

Water lapped, slapping the sides of the little boat, and Joe’s oars slipped from his fingers. The ocean, glistening black like treacle, swallowed them without regret. Joe stared, wide-eyed, into the darkness, his pupils dilating as his jaw slackened. Wisps of fog curled about the debris floating on the surface and he gulped as white swirls caressed the drifting scum.

The moon peered through the mist for a moment, illuminating rainbows of oil atop the water, until the gloomy clouds closed rank and Joe was lost again, a single soul in a tiny boat.

He refused to look behind, refused to acknowledge the final flickering flames that sank lower and lower, fading into the night and into the hungry sea, but the wails, that had been vanquished hours ago, still echoed inside his head.

He rubbed his greasy hands, trying to find a spark of warmth, but the cold that had stolen his oars, stole his fingers and then his hands and goose-bumps sent chatters through his teeth. His head shook with cold, and with insanity, and his last grasp on reality slipped away.

He shook his head, trying to evade the demons that swam through his mind, and squinted. Swirls of fog danced across the waves, imitating white horses, but the sea was too still for waves. The hazy spectres waltzed and whirled atop the flotsam and jetsam, and Joe shivered.

A hefty piece of driftwood clunked against the little boat and Joe jumped, and the scars on his heart tore just a little wider as the little boat rocked.

Ghosts reached out to him, white, watery fingers extended and beckoning. Joe sank back, flinching, as the wisps curled about his little boat. Oily streaks ran down his face as terror invaded his head. He huddled down, trying to hide behind a barrel and between a chest and a sack of provisions. The cold fog spread wide and behind him fingers gripped his soaked jacket, tugging and wrenching at his body.

Joe stared wildly about him, slipping out of his sodden coat, and wriggling free of the arms that tried to capture him. He was too crazed to see the fingers were just gusts of icy wind, and he stood, grabbing the chest from the floor of his tiny boat. It took but a moment for the wind to seize its chance and the waves, and debris and driftwood flooded the boat. Joe tumbled into the grasping arms of the sea.

The silent ocean took the renegade fire-starter and dragged both him and the treasure down into its depths, where the ghosts of the recently drowned could finally reap retribution.

(441 Words)

A little something for the last Blues Buster for a bit over at The Tsuruoka Files, for the prompt song:  The Turkish Song of the Damned by The Pogues.

Five Sentence Fiction: Falling

Autumn's Shroud - © Lisa Shambrook

Autumn’s Shroud – © Lisa Shambrook

He gently gripped the damp park bench, his gnarled fingers slipping against the lichen, soft and wet, on the underside of the silvered wood. Shivers scrambled up his knotted spine, cold and sharp like a spider with frozen legs, and he clutched at the collar of his worn jacket, his trembling fingers attempting to fasten the topmost button. Giving up, he sighed, and pulled his arthritic legs up tight; for a moment his teeth chattered and his legs shook uncontrollably and then his frail body stilled.

Frost glistened on the ground and a crinkled brown leaf, reminiscent of his wrinkled weathered face, slipped from the tree rooted beside his bench, and silently fell.

As the early hours dawned, autumn’s confetti floated down, finally draping humanity’s loss with nature’s shroud.

000. FSF Badge  June 2012

My Five Sentence Fiction for the week, based on the prompt word Falling

Blues Buster: Home…

© Lisa Shambrook

© Lisa Shambrook

Dust motes swirled and danced in the ray of sunshine that flooded the bedroom, and Eli gazed at Aoife’s tumbling dark hair as she stood by the window. The sun glinted and bounced off the silver hairbrush she swept through her curls. His chest rose and fell with a heavy sigh and he relaxed back upon the white cotton pillows. The sheet she clutched slipped a little as she tugged at a stray tangle, and Eli imagined it dropping away from her shoulders altogether. The corner of his mouth twitched in a lazy smile and he wondered what she looked at every morning through the window.

“What d’you see out there, angel?” he asked lacing his fingers behind his head.

Her arm paused, mid-stroke and high in the air then she put the brush down. She pulled the sheet up and rested her hand against the window pane. “Trees, as green as the Emerald Isle, tall woods, stretching back as far as you can see…mountains, huge, snow-capped mountains…” she paused, her hand still flat on the glass, “and lakes,” she added, “up in the mountains. Rivers…blue ribbons of rivers and waterfalls cascading down – can’t you hear them? The water rolling and gushing, icy and cold…”

Eli grinned, his eyes still fixed on her bare back, her spine disappearing into the loose white sheet. Her lies filled the room as the air-con’s chill spread goose-bumps across his skin. He could hear Monday morning traffic, hurrying and bustling through the city streets, and the only green was bright traffic light go. Tower-blocks filled the view as far as the eye could see and the distant mountain ranges had been disguised by a film of smog for as long as he could recall.

“Waterfalls cascading…” she continued, “down to…” Her voice caught and her hand trailed down the glass, leaving an imprint that faded as quickly as her words.

She turned, slowly, the sheet bunched about her body, and her eyes met his. He drowned in her clear blue depths, and his own breath caught in his throat.

“Waterfalls…” she repeated, her yearning eyes filling with unshed tears. “Cascading down to the ocean… To the salt water, the sea, to waves crashing upon beaches and wind dancing atop the foam.”

She stared straight into his heart, salty tears slipping silently down her cheeks.

Conflict battered his soul, as compassion and desire fought to surface. His base passions won and he beckoned her to the bed. “Come, sweetheart, come…” He patted the bed beside him. “One day, my darling, one day I’ll take you back… One day we’ll run away from the city together, we’ll own a cabin in the woods, and we’ll follow the river down to the ocean… One day you’ll swim again in the sea.” He gazed at her, as her white fingers clutched tightly to the sheet about her body. She sat lightly on the bed and he rubbed her shoulders leaning in close to kiss her neck. He whispered as he feathered tiny kisses across her shoulder and down her arm. “One day, angel, but until then you’re mine, and until then we’ll play together…”

He pulled her down onto the bed and gently stripped away her sheet. He ignored her wet cheeks and the way her eyes glazed over as he caressed his prize.

Her expressionless eyes remained open as she slipped away to a far, far ocean and his promises faded, lost and buried in the same place as her pelt.

(584 Words)

My Blues Buster as prompted by ‘Home in the Woods’ by Cory Chisel and the Wandering Sons. There’ll be more tales to read if you pop over to The Tsuruoka Files

Beneath the Old Oak: Cover Reveal

Great oaks from little acorns grow…
(14th Century English Proverb)

I’ve been working with Blue Harvest Creative and we’re just about ready to unfurl the brand new cover of my soon-to-be-released follow up to ‘Beneath the Rainbow’…

I wanted a cover in line with ‘Beneath the Rainbow’, but didn’t realise that my own concept which was so similar, was not what I’d ultimately go with. Joni and Vern came up with a new twist to the cover which hints at the deeper story inside! The colours work wonderfully with a story of a young girl desperate to escape her history. The sepia tones surrounding the colour crop make her story even more poignant.

2. Beneath the Old Oak BHC Sample Cover 1

I fell in love with this cover as soon as I saw it, and it looks amazing next to its sister ‘Beneath the Rainbow’!

Blurb:
Meg thinks her mother is broken. Is she broken too?
Meg’s life spirals out of control, and when she mirrors her Mum’s erratic behaviour, she’s terrified she’ll inherit her mother’s sins.
Seeking refuge and escape, she finds solace beneath a huge, old oak. Life is as transient as leaves upon the tree and with the changing seasons, the timeworn tree shares its memories with her and she begins to learn and grow.
Amid the turmoil, Meg wants to run away, but a traumatic turn of events changes everything.
As a storm descends, can Meg survive devastating losses? Will she learn from the tree’s precious memories, and will she discover how to become as strong as the old oak?

Design Credits: 
Cover Photograph: Lisa Shambrook

Cover Concept: Lisa Shambrook and Blue Harvest Creative

Cover Design: Blue Harvest Creative

Interior Design and eBook Design: Blue Harvest Creative

Also ‘Beneath the Rainbow’ is currently on Special Offer over at Amazon. 

AUTUMN SALE£1.35 for the eBook on Amazon UK or $2.25 in the US…until the 15th October…don’t miss it! 

Keep a look out for the launch of ‘Beneath the Old Oak’…COMING SOON!

Five Sentence Fiction: Hunger

Rain © Lisa Shambrook

Rain © Lisa Shambrook

The rain fell, heavy and abrupt, and before Lily had a chance to move she was soaked, the sky’s tears drenching her t-shirt and darkening her mud-splattered jeans. Shaking, dirt-ridden hands hung at her sides and she stared up into the roiling clouds as the heavens wept with her.

Lily bit her lip as her fingers trembled through her straggly tresses then she flung out her arms in defiance as she twirled; starved vengeance served as she whirled. Her hair spun out in heavy, water-laden rat-tails as she ravenously kicked up earth, and the rain danced on her skin and drummed upon the fresh mound under her feet.

Her laugh echoed as she buried far more than a corpse beneath the hammering of dawn’s heavy downpour.

000. FSF Badge  June 2012

Another Five Sentence Fiction for the word prompt Hunger…make of it what you will in its ambiguity!

Flash! Friday: Retribution

Typhoon Maid Thursday. CC photo by Shuji Moriwaki.

Typhoon Maid Thursday. CC photo by Shuji Moriwaki.

The reckoning was always a powerful storm.

He heard her footsteps and the vein in the side of his temple throbbed, pulsating like a cloud waiting to pound an unsuspecting sea.

His arms shook, his silver hair shimmered in the harsh fluorescent light, and his trembling fingers crept across his face. He shivered as if a thousand centipedes wandered across his skin. Interlaced fingers arched over his head, like an umbrella, but his thin arms offered no protection from the onslaught of emotion.

His monsoon pummelled, and amid the deluge she approached.

She wore the gas mask this time, but he knew what lay behind it, what he’d left, the empty husk, the lost child. She carried the rope, swinging gently at her hip, and he knew one day her ligature marks would be his.

Tears fell, but no redemption, and it was her striped socks that drowned his mind.

The reckoning was always a powerful storm.

(157 Words)

0. Flash! Friday

Another Flash! Friday…go take a look at the plethora of wonderful fiction!