In The Shadows ; my first chapter

Hi

How’ve you been?

Me?

Not too good, but I’m so glad to have some time to start blogging again.

I’m not ready to start talking about how I’ve been yet. Its been a very hard time and I’m still trying to make sense of it all myself. I have a very good support network and getting the help I need.

So, What to blog about?

In 2009 I completed a writtng course with the open university. I thoroughly enjoyed it and have wanted to carry on.

for my last assignment, I had to write the first chapter of a longer work that includes some use of time-shift and dialogue…….

Here’s my entry.

In the Shadows

by Jomakessix

I had been summoned to watch her, to infiltrate her life.

They had hired me.

I call them they, because in my ten years of employment I had never been given another name to call them by. They knew I could get their information with quiet ease, never questioning my methods and always pleased with my results.

I too had been watched ten years earlier. It had been noted that I could make myself melt into backgrounds and disappear with no unwanted attention.

They had pushed a handwritten note under my door, informing me of their surveillance, that they were impressed with my skills and would like to meet in person to discuss employment. It appealed greatly. After such a long time of hiding and catering only for my own needs the challenge excited me. They offered to pay handsomely, which tempted me. I was tired of my talents serving only my own ends. There was one catch.  If I refused their offer, my skills would be revealed to all.

The meeting place always changed. This time it was in the market square at dawn. The stall holders all sang their songs; calling the interest of the local tradesmen, the restaurant owners who had come early to catch the best deals of the day. The smell of fresh fish, flowers and fruit and veg’ hung on the early morning mist. No doubt this would pull more custom in later, when tradesmen were replaced by wives and mothers.

I watched from the shadows and I waited.

A light footed man walked towards me, oblivious to the noise and deals going on around him. His long dark hair blew behind him, the mist forming minute droplets in the long strands. His stride confident, never faltering.

As he came closer, his striking features came into view. His dark brown eyes, creased with concentration, focused on my position. His sharp angular nose suited his sculpted chin, encased in olive skin not native to here. He belonged on a beach not an early morning market.

He spoke authoratively as he joined me. “Good Morning, Solomon”

“Tobias”

He nodded politely, ushering me towards the alley which led to the back of the market. We walked in silence; polite conversation was not needed here. At the precise moment we stepped out onto the street, a black Mercedes with blacked out windows stopped in front of us. The back passenger door opened and Tobias gestured for me to go in.

The inside of the car was custom made, cream leather with silky black stitching and extra seating behind the driver facing towards the back seats. Tobias gestured once more for me to take this seat as he flanked the occupant on the back seat.

‘Ah Solomon I finally get to meet the man whose work is completed in such style and with outstanding results”

He spoke in a subtle tone, which held such gravitas. A slim face framed my deep seated eyes and pursed mouth. Those dark eyes never left me. He had a regal look not of this time, the stature of great kings from times gone by. A smile broke through his thin lips.

‘May I introduce myself? I’m Nathaniel”

This is not our usual way of conducting business, Nathaniel.”

“This is no usual business Solomon. You have more than proved yourself, so now I have a rather important job for you to do. We have been watching a rather special young lady for a while now and believe she has something of great importance to us.”

Nathaniel went on with the details. Her Name was Ava. He informed me of where she lived, a detailed list of what she did and when. He told me she held the key to an ancient secret and it would be my job to find it and bring it back to them. Nathaniel could give me no real detail of what I was looking for-and I was not to disturb or take anything- I was to memorise everything. This wasn’t a problem, I’ve been blessed with a photographic memory, able to recall the tiniest detail from the oldest memories. If necessary, I was to infiltrate her life to gain her trust. I would communicate with Nathaniel directly, and he would come to me. I questioned how I would know what I was looking for

” That’s the beauty of it my dear Solomon, you will not. But we will, from the information you supply.”

A sneer escaped Nathaniel’s lips.

When I asked about my payment, Nathaniel replied that, if I succeeded, I would never have to work again. Ever. With that the car came to a gentle stop outside Ava’s residence.

“Good luck Solomon. I will be in touch. ” The tone behind the way he said will had an sharp edge any sword would envy. ” I will send Tobias to collect you.”The Mercedes glided away from the pavement  and left me to survey the property.

Hidden from view, I watched for an hour or two, taking in every door and window. Nathaniel had told me which room was hers. The house was built in the new England style, its boards painted white. Sat in its own grounds, surrounded by a tall brick wall, front security gate, and intercom.

I quickly stepped out onto the pavement in front of the house, walked alongside the wall as far away from the house as possible and checked my surroundings. No one was aware of my presence. With an effortless leap, I was over the wall and hidden in the garden.

I stayed close to the wall, creeping closer to the back of the house. I listened. Her room was empty. I could hear the whir of a computer, the swish of the organza  that rippled in the breeze. But no human. The room had no life in it. After three centuries of sharpened hearing, I trusted my senses and made the short dash across the lavish garden. In one easy jump I was up on her second story balcony. With such speed, I knew I would go unnoticed.

I entered  her room through the French doors as the mid day sun filled the room. The light caught on a full length silver mirror. The sun shimmered against its surface, making the curve of the metal frame appear like liquid. The opposite wall was dedicated to book shelves, filled deep with every imaginable genre of classic and modern literature. Amongst these were many ancient historical and mythological tomes. My photographic memory now came into its own, taking in every title, spine, cover and storing it in my own mental photo album – ready to be opened and viewed at my own will.

A hand crafted dressing table dominated its space in front of a matching ornate wooden double bed, dressed in delicate silk matching the colour of the sky outside. As I had heard from outside, an ultra stylish laptop slept until its user was ready to go again without having to reboot. In a group of photos, one really stood out. Dressed in a jade evening gown was the most elegant woman with a simmering smile  and amazing green eyes.

On the other side of the table, a large intricately carved wooden keepsake box cast a shadow over the table. I couldn’t resist feeling my way around it, my fingers tracing the tiny dragons  carved along the edges of the box, guarding its secrets. A thick gold band ran aside the edges of the lid of the box, binding them together with a gold padlock. The orchid on the lid was so detailed; you might have been convinced it was once a real flower that, with time, had slowly turned to wood.

The fitted walk in wardrobes were made with such skilled craftsmanship that one could have mistaken them for the wall, had one not opened its door to invite me in. The stunning jade gown from the photograph floated from its hanger, waiting to be filled again. Alongside so many others, I doubted it would ever be worn again. A breeze rushed through the translucent jade silk and filled the air with the scent of burning leaves with a sweet undertone of liquorice. I closed my eyes and let my senses take over, as if she had walked straight past me. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up and a distant memory stirred deep in my mind. Taken back to a place long ago. I lost my focus, immersed in her scent. I had to regain my composure, after all there was a job to do.

Regaining my composure, I looked a the lap top, to see what she had last been doing, but the wooden box called to me with its aura of intrigue. The lock wouldn’t be an issue, but I had my instructions. I wasn’t allowed to take anything or disturb it; no one was to know there had been anyone in the room. I moved over to the laptop and tapped the touchpad. It whirred and clicked back to life. The page displayed a group of symbols I had never seen before, my photographic memory did the rest.

Then footsteps. A little distance away, but heading in this direction. I put the laptop back to sleep  and stepped out onto the balcony. A quick survey told me my way was clear. One silent leap and I was hidden once again in the great garden.

So there you have it, the first chapter of my book. Love to hear any thoughts you may have!! Thank you Jo x

Note;

All written content property of the author Joanne Piper. All rights belong to Joanne Piper.

No part of this material may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

Copyright Joanne Piper 2015

I can’t sleep.

Hello. HEELLLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
*shouts into the dark abyss.
Is anyone still there?

It’s me, Jo, six, Rose, choose a persona,I answer to all.
It’s been a while. I feel like we’re on a first date. I’m nervous, feeling awkward and talking to my feet.

One minute I was writing a blog, being suitably addicted to twitter, when I had this (some May say stupid) idea of starting my own business. The blog was abandoned.

But I’m back.
Will you have me back?
See I can’t sleep.
I’ve been thinking about writing again, I miss you, our interaction, and watching my brain splurge all over the page.

I’ve been kept awake by many things lately, and I’ve found myself muttering the beginnings of blogs, titles, funny little openers. So maybe it’s time to pick up the virtual pen again.
Maybe it’ll help me sleep? Most likely it’s going to give me something to do whilst I try and sleep.

Here’s to new beginnings.
Love as always Jo
*tries to remover how to post this damn thing?! X

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I like hot Vampires so bite me!

I like hot Vampires so bite me!

Hey, how are we doing? Me? Yeah, I’m good. Well Actually I’ve been a bit up and down, blue you might say. No don’t go; this isn’t going where you think it is! See when im feeling a bit discombobulated and … Continue reading

Blank Canvas by Edward Ian Kendrick A review

Blank Canvas by Edward Ian Kendrick

A little while ago, I was given the privilege of being asked to take a look at a book a twitter friend of mine EDDSNOTDEAD  had written. To give some feed back, thoughts ect. yeah, I thought, why not. I’m a keen but rather inactive writer, it’ll be good to see what other people have written, and I have a genuine interest in EDS work.

Email comes through.

I start to read. Now I had been given a rough synopsis, but was really going in blind.
MAN! THIS IS BLOODY GOOD, ITS LIKE A PROPER BOOK, YOU KNOW A CLEVER ONE, WITH PLOT AND EVERYTHING!

Now please don’t think im patronising, I’m not! I just wanted to give you my real reaction. I didn’t know what to really expect, and Blank Canvas blew me away.

To be honest, I was completely pulled in from the start, a pacy intro, an instant empathy with the books lead Gita. Set in Earth’s future with a new religion and population hitting crisis point. We join Our lead on an epic journey housed on the giant colony vessel ‘The Buckingham’  with its five hundred thousand sleeping inhabitants to new planets to create new settlements.
Following a malfunction (which is done in the most unexpected way)  the crew leave for a repair ship, choosing Gita, (the ships artist) a new role as the vessel’s lone care taker.
We follow Gita and her long isolation as she paints, cares for the ship’s sleeping passengers and deals with her isolation, missing her fellow crew and daily interaction.The way Edward overcomes this isolation and interaction is ingenious, clever and even witty. Yes I’m very jealous! xxx

Gita has some futuristic yet very believable aids to help her cope with her solitary journey, all I can say is, I WANT A SLEEPING DUMMY!Edward tackles  the sexual needs of Gita with a real mix of eroticism and sensualism any author would be proud of.

Don’t be fooled; Yes Gita is predominantly alone but this book reveals many interesting characters who Gita interacts with in her own unique way. Plenty of back story, the reader is thrown deep in Gita’s life, and get a comprehensive understanding of her psyche.
Gita very quickly became a part of my life.
So well written and so very visual, Blank Canvas is a believable, thought-provoking, must have read.

Id love to write more, but am in fear of too many spoilers, as I would love you to enjoy this book as much as I did. It’s a real welcome addition to the science fiction genre.

Blank Canvas is avaliable on Kindle in the amazon store, dont forget you can get the kindle app for the ipad

DOWNLOAD IT HERE

Thanks for reading.

Love as always Jo xxx

 

 

AUTUMNAL DAYS

I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but the colours of the leaves are changing around us, the world in my mind is becoming a little more magical for just a few weeks. Take a few steps outside and you are instantly surrounded by changing colour, spectacular light, and a feeling of change.

Autumn is upon us people, it my favourite time of year, I welcome it every year like an old friend returning home. I love everything about it. I think, being a red head, I have a certain affinity with autumn. Picture if you will.

The sun is low; a slight crisp breeze is blowing. The trees glow with reds, oranges as the sun light shines through them like precious stones glinting in the light. Leaves slowly tumble in the wind, floating down to earth, nature’s own scarlet confetti. The leaves crunch under booted feet, delighting in the satisfying crunch, long flowing purple material of a warm dress playfully catches the leaves as she walks down nature’s aisle. The light hits her hair and it glows with reds and oranges, reflecting the trees around her. They walk together in harmony, basking in the day’s glory.

A little romantic yes, but autumn stirs this in me. I think if you are really honest with yourself, this picture isn’t too hard to imagine when you think of autumn.

This time of year excites me; I feel it suits me best. I love nothing more than a flowing skirt, leather boots, cosy knits, gloves, and all the autumnal colours that go with the season. It’s an exciting time of year for the sixes. We embrace it. We home cook more: soups bread, cakes, helping our winter blubber along the way (well it is getting colder!) I’m ready to say good bye to summer, the constant worry of hats, sun cream, and I DON’T LIKE THE HEAT! I welcome the cooler days, time to wrap up warm.

Autumn is sexy, you heard me SEXY! Who doesn’t day dream about getting frisky on fluffy rugs in front of log fires, and hey it’s going to be a big strong armed burly man, (certain to be shirtless as well) to chop all that wood! AHEM! Where was I, insert your own hot flush here! But I think you get my gist!

As you know (if you’re one of my regular readers) music plays an important part in my life and after thinking about this blog, I have come to see that I have a lot of autumnal music. One of my favourite albums is called OCTOBER RUST by TYPE O NEGATIVE, with tracks like green man. Its whole inlay is covered with pictures of autumn leaves and trees. I’ve linked the picture to you tube for your listening pleasure. P.S. the first minute is silent!

Other album musts on an Autumnal playlist are;

  1. FLEET FOXES by FLEET FOXES
  2. A PASSAGE IN TIME by DEAD CAN DANCE
  3. HELLO LAND by GUILLEMOTS
  4. WORLDES BLYSSE by MEDIEAVAL BABES
  5. FOR EMMA by BON IVER
  6. BLOODY KISSES BY TYPE O NEGATIVE
  7. WALK THE RIVER by GUILLEMOTS

    Another big thing about autumn is that it brings the family six together. As soon as the summer holidays are over, the children hark on about how they can’t wait for the October half term and we can have our day of Christmas! Yes you heard right, the sixes have a whole day of Christmas during half term. It has become a tradition that started when we first married and I baked the Christmas cake in the October, followed by a drive out, and ended up buying a Christmas decoration each. And it’s stuck. Every October half term, we pick a day; we drive to our favourite craft centre and garden centre sound tracked with every Christmas cd available. We each choose a decoration for the tree, have lunch out, and come home. Then I make the cake with Christmas music adding the essential magic to the mix (every one stirs the mix for extra magic) then we all snuggle down to watch our favourite Christmas movies (another blog!) whilst the smell of the Christmas cake fills the house, and excitement builds.

    Autumn also brings out the frustrated photographer in me, but since the fabulous Instagram has been released I have an outlet for my novice skills. I try desperately to capture the light in the trees and the colour it has to offer.



 

I hope I have convinced you of my love for autumn and how its magic never fails to captivate me and my imagination.

I’d love to know how the season affects you, does it inspire or fill you will dread, with the thought of winter on its way. Let me know. As always much love, take an autumn walk for me and enjoy its majesty. Jo x

Ps I hope you like the pictures, all taken on my Iphone.

Tonight Ive rebloged. A blog that touched me when it was published. This weekend, my thoughts drew back to this post, someone I now consider to be a friend has lost the love for twitter, and no longer posting. I will genuinely miss their tweets durring the day, silly chats, and words of calm when I needed them. They were’nt a big player on twittter, not that this matters at all, but a really genuine person who became my friend, who I will miss durring the day. Maybe one day they will find their way back. This might sound stupid to some, but this is how twitter efects many, forming great friendships.
I know a big tweeter has also left twitter this week and he will be sorely missed by thousands. He touched many of our lives and a true friend to many. I didnt knew him too well, but still will miss his tweets and interactions.
Enough of my words, here are some that truely say it all ! Thanks Ook, wonderful blog.
Thanks for reading, love as always JO X

OOKs Thoughts

Yesterday I lost a Twitter follower, for justifiable and very admirable reasons, in fact this follower left Twitter. At the risk of sounding over dramatic, the follower wasn’t called Lyra Belacqua, but I think I now have a better understanding of how Will Parry felt when the knife was broken in the Oxford Botanic Gardens..

Now I’ve lost followers before probably due to something I Tweeted, but this particular loss felt inexplicably emotional, and was a really poignant moment. So it got me thinking about the emotional links we develop with people who in reality we don’t know, and using technology are able to share ideas with. Surely it must take more than 140 characters to get to know someone?

I find one of the greatest things about Twitter is that we are so diverse, I could not hope in a hundred lifetimes to meet and share thoughts, events and lives…

View original post 275 more words

I miss a good old fashioned letter

Ceefax

Ceefax (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Firstly, Hello, how have you been ?

Sorry its been a while, I’ve had Blog block !!! I think the weather has completely washed away all my creative thoughts, and turned them into a constant grey wet useless mess !

Tonight the Eureka moment happened !!!

One of the lovelies on (Yep you guessed it) Twitter, posted a tweet, which just read ” The lost art of the phone call ” to which I responded ” I miss a good old-fashioned hand written letter ”

Now cast your mind back twenty-two yrs, you can insert your own time travel wobbly arm sequence with retro music if it helps ! Before the age of the internet and social networking, and mass information at your fingertips, I used to keep up to date with news, music etc on good old Ceefax ! The BBC own teletext information service. Now many of you may remember this, for those who don’t, ask your dad !

On this wonderful service accessed through your tele remote, not unlike the red button, was a teen section, and on this teen section was a pen pal page. Young lads and lasses would write a paragraph about themselves, interests, music, sports etc, and would put out an appeal for like-minded teens to write in to be their pen pal.

This appealed to the thirteen year old me. So I wrote a letter, a real one on paper, about two paragraphs long, all about me. God only knows what I put in that letter, no doubt my love of all things prince,art etc, and I sent it into ceefax.

Then the waiting happened, things weren’t instant, it was weeks before I saw my request on-screen,and I waited again, nearly forgot about it when a large white envelope dropped on my door mat. I was so excited, it had Ceefax in big letters on it! Amazing I had replies from my pen pal request. I tore it open, quickly read the letter from ceefax , which read along the lines of ” congratulations some people have responded to your request and here they are !!”

I upturned the envelope and out fell one letter, just one, was I disappointed, no, this letter was so exciting. I eagerly read on, He (this was brilliant, it was a boy!) was from northern Ireland, a little bit older than me ( again amazing !!) and we shared interests like the love of simply red, and other trivialities, but I was hooked ! He hoped I might write back and let our pen pal friendship begin !!

I wrote back that same day, and from that point in we shared a lovely harmless written friendship. Funny thing is now, you would never alow your children just to give their address out like that.

We wrote sometimes as much as once a week, sent each other photos, really carefully selected of course, even after a while swapped phone numbers and would call about once a month or so, our parents probably wouldn’t alow more than that due to the cost ! We became really good friends, shared problems, relationship advice would exchange hand, ideal being the opposite sex, we even sent each other christmas presents.

Those letters where like gold dropping through my door, exciting , heart warming,funny, I would re read them all the time, and great thought would go into writing a reply. We went through school, a levels, and even to university for him, I never got that far. Ok the letters got less frequent as we got older, and as I got into a serious relationship with my (first!) Fiance. I invited my pen pal over to England for the engagement party, and bless him , some friends and his cousin turned it into a holiday and we met in person after years of writing.

My Dad said at the time,he didn’t really like my Fiance and said I should run off with the pen pal back to Ireland !!! I never told either of them that !!!

As things unfortunately do, mostly due to my part, the letters slowly stopped and we lost contact, every few yrs I would make contact again, and thanks to this new internet thingy after quite a long spell, I found him again on face book.

It’s not the same though. I miss the letters, someone taking the time to sit and hand write a well thought out piece of writing. Not just from pen pals as well, I used to spend many an hour composing very embarrassing love letters,and ive had on occasion some beautiful ones sent back. The raw emotion you can get off a love letter can be tangible, holding it in your hand, smelling the cologne that’s scented it, knowing it was in their hand. You don’t get that from a tweet, or face book poke!

I’m very lucky that my Mr6 still writes the most beautiful letters to me, especially when times are hard and I begin to doubt my worth. It’s the best gift you can give some one, a raw piece of you that’s only meant for you to see and not to be shared with hundreds of friends !

I would love to give out my address right now and see how many of you popped a letter in the post for me to delight over, but i cant do that.So come on people, write some one a letter, pour your heart out, share your problems, tel them just what they do to you, how they make you feel when they’re not around. Or reach out to a friend, which ever way put a pen to paper and let your soul do the talking .

with much love as ever Jo x