authors – The Girl Who Whispered

Making some changes

Hello, my little demons!

You may have noticed some changes…

Don’t fear, I’m still me! I am just ‘re-branding’ myself.

The last year or so, I’ve not been keeping up with writing or posting on my website too much. This is mostly because I’ve been focusing on my career.

But, I am finally at a decent stage in my career. There’s still lots to learn, but there will ALWAYS be lots to learn in IT!

While I’ve been focusing on my career, I have been considering the next step in my writing journey. And, I have come to the conclusion that I should just start that d*mn publishing business.

So, here are some changes I have currently made (and some in progress):
* Rebranded my Instagram profile, specifically for ‘Mind’: www.instagram.com/thegirlwhowhispered
* Created two new Instagram profiles, one for ‘Body’ (www.instagram.com/alexdamion666) and ‘Soul’ (www.instagram.com/demon_genie_amg)
* Rebranded my website (www.thegirlwhowhispered.com)
* Rebranded my Facebook Page (www.facebook.com/thegirlwhowhispered)
* Rebranded my Twitter page (www.twitter.com/alexdamion666)
* Rebrand my books (In Progress)
* Finish writing my True Story about Selective Mutism (In Progress)

Of course, it’s not exactly how I want it yet. There’s still LOTS left to do.

Including opening up the business. But I have a bit of research to do into that first!

Either way, watch this space!

Author Interview – Marcus Liotta

Hello my little demons, I interrupt your Sunday with another Author Interview…

I also want to apologise for missing posts, work has been getting progressively busier and more stressful, so on my days off I tend to find a dark corner to hide in…

But, I hope this new blog post makes up for it. Because today I have an interview with another fellow author, one who has quite a few similar interests as I do… and I don’t mean that we’re both authors… Say hello to Marcus Liotta!

About Marcus Liotta

As well as being an author, Marcus, who is originally from Chicago, IL, works in Information Technology (as he calls himself; a ‘Technocrat’), defining himself as a Programmer, Hacker and Social Engineer, as well as a public speaker (rather him than me!)

He also seems to have a long list of hobbies and skills, from Philosophy, Psychology, Archery and Survivalism. He even has some legal skills (I feel the need to explain he’s not BAR registered, just to avoid any future confusion).

Adrift

Although Marcus has managed to scramble together words into stories a few times, from novellas to short stories (I’ll leave some of his links below for you to check out), but I just wanted to quickly tell you about his most recent works, ‘Adrift’.

I’ve always been a fan of sci-fi, especially if it entails space and all things thus contained in space (okay, I like spaceships! There, I said it!) and this one really has the feel of the ‘Expanse’ series (written by Daniel Abraham and Ty Franck – pen name James S.A. Corey – also a TV series), I mean, you read the synopsis and the interview below and you tell me…

Synopsis:

The silence of space can be overwhelming. It can drive a man to madness. When one is consumed by the Empty, a region beyond the reaches of known star maps, there is no rescue.
In the vast Empty, nothing can be trusted.
A scavenging crew discovers this first hand when they ransack an aged provisioning vessel. Far from any possible civilization, they encounter something more deadly than they could have ever imagined.
They should have known better.
Often, this place is where starships go to die.

Check it out here: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B08VGPM99K/

Interview

What’s your current book about?

My most recent work, “Adrift“, is a Dark Science Fiction novella about the perils of space travel. A scavenging crew finds more than they are prepared for when they board a derelict vessel, one who contains a deadly secret.

Can you tell me a little about the main character(s)?

The main characters include a muscular blonde woman who doesn’t take heat from anyone, yet also finds herself treating a flying utility drone as a puppy dog. The drone, a massive human-sized machine with sleek metal of a black obsidian sheen, it always hovers nearby and comes when called; but that glowing red eye never blinks.

What got you into writing?

I was always pushed to write when I was very young, given my active imagination. Later, I continued to write short stories and participated in Dungeons & Dragons (or other role playing games), as a Game Master – crafting stories of Monsters, Magic, and Mayhem. That was really enjoyable and kept me writing in my spare time.

Do you use a pseudonym? If not, have you considered it?

No I do not. I considered it but the negatives seemed to outweigh any positives.

How do you deal with criticism?

I assume the critic is correct in some perspective and considered how to better my writing. If someone responds very poorly, they may not be interested in providing criticism but rather use the review process or a twitter / author contact response as an output for their own internalized-anger. It is important to accept and understand that many who are unhappy project internalized-anger onto others, and into much that they do. Once one realizes this, it is easy to accept another individual for who they are and what they do, while not becoming annoyed or aggravated by their words.

Do you play music while you write – and if so, what’s your favourite?

Yes and no. I often write in silence, but at times when specific scenes are benefitted by listening to a theme song for them, I will listen to a specific set of music for the section. Often, this is non-voice and dramatic music intended for a specific sort of action or dark (creepy) sequence.

What’s your favourite under-appreciated novel?

“A Wizard of Earthsea“, by Ursula Kay Leguin. This book is an amazing adventure and depicts the struggles of Good and Evil, in vivid detail. It is a perfect book to demonstrate the need to accept the consequences for one’s actions, while learning how to cope with the grief of both failure and how to face one’s own demons.

What, to you, are the most important elements of good writing?

A story that can steal one away from the world and wrap them in a newfound reality is important. This means that integrating a Good Plot, Interesting Characters, Twists the reader never saw coming, and being Consistent in a Story is key. Consistency means both keeping character behavior the same unless some development would sensibly change them, but also not pursuing a plot which would create holes in the story arc. At the same time, consistency also means not introducing new plot mechanics which could cause a reader to lose their ability to suspend disbelief (and take them out of the reality a writer creates.)

What do you like to do when you’re not writing?

I’m a Hacker and Programmer, so often my hobbies revolve around code and computers.

Do you write every single day?

Yes, but not always on a specific project. I work on my blog, poetry, various short story concepts or stories for my paintings I often post.
When I am working toward publishing a project I absolutely work on it every single day, whether it is writing or editing.

Where do you get your ideas?

I take pieces of our own reality and twist them, shaping them into something that is similar but not as we would normally see..

Are there any themes in your work you are trying to portray?

I love detailing the conflict between Good and Evil, and how one must fight to be a better person.

Do you have any projects you’re working on at the moment?

I am working on a horrific book relating to a small town and terrifying ordeal that some must endure. A newcomer brings all sorts of terrible reasons to fear an otherwise uneventful town.
I’m also working on another piece relating to Fantasy; both Magic and Dragons.

~~~

If you would like to learn more about Marcus and his works,
or follow him on social media, here are a few links:

marcusliotta.com
twitter.com/marcusliotta

~~~

Don’t forget to like, reblog, share, comment and/or follow!

thegirlwhowhispered.com

facebook.com/TheGirlWhoWhispered
instagram.com/alexdamion666
instagram.com/thegirlwhowhispered/
twitter.com/alexdamion666

Author Interview – Raymond G. Newsome

Hello, my little demons,

Here’s the sixth installment of author interviews. Today I am sharing an interview I had with a friend of mine. I can’t even remember where I met him (might have been on WattPad?), but we jelled pretty quickly, not only because we both write, but because we both like the same sorts of things – the weird and wonderful.

Say hello to my little friend… I mean… say hello to Raymond Newsome!

About Raymond

Raymond lives in Eastern Kentucky with his girlfriend and five children (reading and creativity are always encouraged!) When he’s not writing and spending time with his family, he works as a nursing aid for a local nursing home.

Raymond has a few books out, ‘I am Brian’, ‘Rise of the Fallen’, and a children’s book called ‘The Adventures of Pipsqueak and Bob’. Read below for a sneak peak into my favourite; ‘I am Brian’.

I am Brian

I remember reading the first few chapters of ‘I am Brian’ before Raymond finished and published it and it had me hooked. It’s written in the view of the murderer; Brian Leroy Lewis, and you think; okay, so not a typical ‘who done it‘ because you already know who done it. But the guy sends you on a ride anyway!

Synopsis:

After arriving at a grisly murder scene, Detective Jackson finds the killer waiting on the porch.

During the police interview, the murderer introduces himself as none other than Brian Leroy Lewis – a younger man full of mental issues and a sinister history.

He promised a written confession on the terms he can leave a taped record of his life and the people he’s murdered. If Detective Jackson refuses, a new victim will die.

But what exactly are the motives of Brian Leroy Lewis?

Above is a link to the book sold on Amazon in both paperback and e-book format. I can’t wait to get my hands on a real physical, and hopefully signed, paperback copy!

Interview

Now, let’s try and decode what’s inside Raymond’s mind…

What inspired you to start writing?

I started reading at an early age and loved it before school forces you to dissect every word. In elementary school in Ohio, they took us to different schools to listen to children’s authors who would visit. That was the beginning.

How long does it take you to write a book?

I used to limit the first draft to a few months, however, the last year has done a number on my writing time and forced me to accept to just focus on the end without a timeline in mind.

Which one of your works is your favourite?

‘I am Brian’ currently holds that position, but one of my current projects may lay claim soon.

What’s your current book about?

I don’t have a current, finished book, but I do have one that I am over halfway finished with the first draft. It’s about a handful of citizens in the fictional city of Pangaea. They experienced the corruption of the city first-hand and began to do something about it. While attempting to help their separate city districts, they discovered each other and the common goal of the man responsible for everything.

What, to you, are the most important elements of good writing?

Flow. If a story doesn’t have a steady flow, you can lose a reader fast. I’ve put down multiple books for this reason. Characters. My characters are everything to me. They are the drive behind every action and reaction. Finally, keeping the grammar proficient enough not to discourage the readers. Just like flow, too many typos can lead to someone not wanting to finish the story.

What do you like to do when you’re not writing?

I love to read and watch whatever movie or show has caught my attention. I love to go on trips with my family. Last summer, I ventured into kayaking, which is amazing.

How much research did you need to do for your books?

A lot of the subjects I touch on in my books (the occult, supernatural, serial killers) I have studied and researched for years before ever deciding to incorporate them into my writing. However, there are those little details that add the zing to a scene that can require multiple Google searches to your writing time.

Do you have any projects you’re working on at the moment?

I have four active projects, including the one I mentioned earlier. I have close to fifty others in the early stages of my process.

What advise would you give to someone thinking about writing?

Write about something you want to read. If you love the book, your passion is there on the pages. Your readers will feel that. Practice your craft. I started with short stories and poetry which eventually evolved to books. Maybe those are what you love, so pour your soul into them. The goal is to write and keep writing. No matter what the first draft looks like, it can be fixed in editing.

Anything else you’d like to add?

We all have a story to tell. One day you’ll be ready to tell it, and it will change the lives of others. That is the power of your words. Thank you.

If you would like to learn more about Raymond and his books or follow him on social media.
Here are a few links:

raymondgnewsome.com
facebook.com/rgnewsomeauthor
instagram.com/raymond.newsome
twitter.com/rgnewsomeauthor

~~~

As always, don’t forget to like, reblog, share, comment and/or follow!

thegirlwhowhispered.com

facebook.com/TheGirlWhoWhispered
instagram.com/thegirlwhowhispered

Calling Authors: Do you want to be featured on my website?

Hello my little demons,

Last year (it feels weird saying that) I decided to interview a few fellow authors with the intention of helping them get their work the recognition they deserve. It’s been pretty successful too, I’ve had a few people approach me and I’ve had some nice comments. I’ve also made some good contacts, found some really interesting books and even learnt a few new things along the way.

Keeping up with my daily life as well as writing and blogging has been pretty difficult lately, and I’ve struggled to keep to a schedule – and let’s face it, book marketing isn’t the easiest either – I’ve decided to create this blog post so that I can reach more people easily and help their hard work get recognised.

So, if you are a writer/author, would like your short story/novel/true story/memoir featured on my website, please feel free to get in touch! I have listed a few questions below and a contact form. Feel free to email me between 5-15 questions and I will see if I can get your featured on my website!

Questions:

What got you into writing?
Where do you get your ideas?
What inspired you to start writing?
Have you always wanted to be a writer?
Do you have a schedule when writing? Or do you try to fit it in when you can?
How long does it take you to write a book?
Do you use a pseudonym? If not, have you considered it?
How do you deal with criticism?
Do you Google yourself?
What was your hardest scene to write?
Which one of your works is your favourite?
Are you working on anything at the moment?
Are there any themes in your work you are trying to portray?
What’s your current book about?
Is your book based on a real person?
What is your most unusual writing quirk?
Do you play music while you write – and if so, what’s your favourite?
What’s your favourite under-appreciated novel?
What, to you, are the most important elements of good writing?
How many unpublished or half-finished books do you have?
Do you prefer to read the book first, or watch the movie first?
What is your favourite word, and why?
Was writing your dream job as child, or was it something else?
What do you like to do when you’re not writing?
Can you tell me a little about your book?
Can you tell me a little about the main character(s)?
Do you think the LGBT+ community in literature is unrepresented?
Do you have a LGBT+ book you’d recommend everyone read?
What is your upcoming book about?
Do you write every single day?
What is the most difficult part of your writing process?
How do you use social media as an author?
What’s your favourite and least favourite part of publishing?
How much research did you need to do for your books?
What do you need in your writing space to keep you focused?
Do you have any projects you’re working on at the moment?
If a film were made of your book, who would you like to be cast in the leading roles?
What advise would you give to someone thinking about writing?
Do you have any good blogs you’d recommend for writing?
Anything else you’d like to add?

Please submit your answers (between 5-15) via the contact form below.
Alternatively, you can contact me on thegirlwhowhisperedauthor@gmail.com.
If you have any images of book covers, marketing images or even wish to have a photo of yourself, please feel free to email these over to the email above.

NB: Please note, if you submit more than 15 questions, I may not publish them all and will pick 15 at random.

Here are a few interviews I have done already:

Author Interview – A.C Thomas
Author Interview – Jethro Weyman
Author Interview – Noir Hayes
Author Interview – S.D. Reed
Author Interview – Havelah McLat

~~~

Don’t forget to like, reblog, share, comment and/or follow!

thegirlwhowhispered.com

facebook.com/TheGirlWhoWhispered
instagram.com/thegirlwhowhispered

Ender’s Love – Chapter 3

Click here to read Chapter 1 if you haven’t read it already

Note: May contain strong language!

~~~

Chapter 3

“Alex!” said a loud voice next to me, making me jump. It was my work colleague, Stella, as she sidled next to me in her office chair. “Drinks after work?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” I replied, unable to control the frown that had involuntarily creeped on my face.

Stella and I weren’t really friends, she was just some girl I worked with. I hadn’t been working at the company for long, but I was conscious that I should make a bit of an effort to be a little friendlier with people. I didn’t have many friends in Scotland, it was always something I struggled with. Although, I wasn’t entirely sure about Stella. She seemed nice. Well, nice to me. But she had a habit of being a little bitchy about the other girls and I worried she was like that with me, behind my back.

It was only a day after the incident at Da Vinci’s, and I knew I shouldn’t, but I couldn’t help but think constantly about that guy I had met. I realised I didn’t even catch his name nor did I even introduce myself properly. It was terribly rude of me. I was too flustered though. But I was proud of myself for actually approaching him, even though I’d never see him again. There were plenty of fish in the sea, as they say. Maybe I would find someone, one day, who was just as handsome, kind, caring and I could settle down and live happily ever after? A best friend who I loved, and he loved me. I had images of waking up in the morning to him cooking breakfast for me, cuddling up on the sofa while watching a scary film, going on little trips away at the weekends somewhere fun, getting a cat and maybe even one day having kids.

“Oh, please come! Not many people are coming now. It’s just going to be me and that girl with the big nose. What’s her name? Julie or something? We’re going to that cocktail bar. It’s two for one on Thursdays,” she said, fluttering her eyelashes like that was going to flatter ,e. It might work on every guy she met, but she seemed to have a habit of doing it the girls too. I groaned.

“Okay, but I can’t stay out for long, I have university work to do,” I said, trying desperately not to get annoyed with her lack of remorse over the kind girl that had started around the same time as me. I had noticed she had a bit of a big nose, but she was actually a lovely girl and her name was Judith. But I had no energy to correct Stella.

“University work?” she asked, frowning at me like I had just sprouted another head.

“Yes, I go to unveristy.” I sighed in annoyance. I had told her this before, I had told everyone at work. I had to constantly remind them. Especially when I would get my supervisor asking me to gin for extra shifts to help out with a backlog of work and I had to constantly remind her that I couldn’t because I had classes. She would always look at me like I was lying to her to avoid going into work, but the truth was, I actually needed the money. I studied part-time and worked part-time around my classes and although I was working in Administration, which was mostly just boring data entry in a small team, it wasn’t a well-paid job when you lived on your own in Glasgow.

“Which one?” she asked.

“Strathclyde.”

“You go to Strathclyde?”

“Yes,” I said, trying not to groan again. Although, I couldn’t be bothered to muster a fake smile. I was too tired.

“Oh, that’s cool! What do you do? You doing a degree or something?”

“A master’s degree,” I corrected. I could have told her what subject it was, but I doubted she would remember anyway.

“Oh, that’s right!” She nodded as if she had just remembered, but I doubted she did. “So, you coming?”

“Sure.” I shrugged, having a feeling that if I didn’t say yes, she wouldn’t leave me alone. Besides, maybe a drink was what I needed? I had already decided to have a night off doing any university work. I was going to work on my book, but I realised that maybe I needed a night off from that too?

***

Later that day, after my shift at work was done, I found myself sat in a loud pub. It was one of those chain pubs; with the same drink menu, served the same cheap food, and had the same two-for-one deals. Drinks were usually served in cheap, plastic pitches rather than nice fancy glasses. It was a pub popular with those who wanted a cheap night out to get drunk, or a cheap pub meal with the kids.

There was a large TV on a wall at the back, which was playing the highlights of some big game that was on earlier in the day. Huddled around it was a load of loud Scottish men either laughing at their mates in a drunken state or yelling at the TV screen. In the centre of the pub on the left, was a large bar with loads of people milling about trying to grab the attenion of the bar staff and get another round of drinks. The rest of the pub was littered with cheap wooden tables and chairs for those who were finishing up their late dinners of cheap steak and chips or a bland chicken tikka masala.

I wasn’t particularly happy with my predicament; it was too loud, the tables were sticky and I was constantly getting eyed up by guys who looked like they were fresh out of school and barely legal to drink. This also wasn’t the place Stella had promised.

Stella had decided to go to a different place to the one she had first suggested, although I wasn’t sure why. But if I had to guess, it was the guys that were there as she kept looking around at them like a lioness stalking prey.

“So, what’s your bachelor’s degree in?” Stella shouted acorss the table at me, huffing at something that clearly upset her. Either that or I was too boring for her. Judith never showed up, so it was just me and her, and I was starting to feel a little awkward with it being just the two of us. I had even contemplated finding an excuse to leave.

“The one I’ve completed?”

“What?” she asked across the table, clearly not being able to hear me properly above the noise.

“The degree I’m doing at university?” I asked.

“Yeah,” she replied. “What’s it in? I did a bachelor’s degree in Hospitality and Tourism,” she whittled on, and I realised she wasn’t really interested in knowing what I was doing or had done at all, she just wanted to find something to talk about herself. Plus, she had already forgotten I was doing a master’s degree, not a bachelor’s. “Passed it last year, but I found it so hard! I actually had to learn Spanish too, which was stupid! I didn’t want to learn another language! I just wanted to go into Tourism. I love going on holiday, figured I’d do it as a career, you know.”

I nodded politely as I drank my glass of white wine. Although, it tasted a little like oak and I wasn’t too keen on it. Regardless, I persevered; the alcohol would help me cope with the girl better.

“All that work too; eassays upon essays!” she continued to moan. “So, don’t feel bad if you have to quit, you know, it’s really hard work!”

“I’ve done a bachelor’s degree already,” I said before I realised what I was doing. Her comment annoyed me and I took it personally.

“What?” she called across the table. Clearly, I didn’t speak loud enough. Truth was, I hated shouting; the idea of shouting across a table just to be heard was frustrating.

I opened my mouth to repeat what I said when I caught sight of someone in the bar. I gasped. Luckily no one could hear me—not that I really cared what Stella thought. But, standing at the bar, I caught a glimpse of that handsome guy from Da Vinchi’s again. My stomach did a summersault when I saw him. He was even more handsome than I remembered. He wasn’t in a suit this time, he was in a black t-shirt, leather jacket and dark blue jeans. He looked dark and mysterious and I think I fell in love with him right there on the spot… I was a sucker for a handsome guy in black, especially leather. I noticed he looked a little annoyed or tired maybe, as a blonde girl was holding onto his arm and trying to speak something in his ear.

I smiled as he bought a glass up to his lips and took a sip. It looked like it was whisky again. I wondered if it was Dalwhinnie.

“He’s gorgeous,” said a voice next to me.

I jumped and looked round to notice Stella had moved to sit next to me, she had obviously noticed I hadn’t replied to her and had instead been watching the guy at the bar. She was staring holes into him as well, which made me feel a little annoyed. I had no idea who the guy was, he might have been as ass for all I knew, but I hated both men and women staring at the opposite sex like they were pieces of meat in a butcher’s shop. Stella might be a lot prettier than I was, with her long blonde hair and her long fluttering eyelashes, but she wasn’t pretty on the inside, as I recently found out.

“Way out of your league, honey,” she said in my ear.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes at her, mostly because she was right; he was.

“I wouldn’t drool either, that girl looks like she’s his date for the night, I bet she’d happily scratch your eyes out for him.”

I looked round at Stella, giving her an annoyed yet confused look. What a weird thing to say. But as soon as I did, Stella’s eyes went wide.

“What’s wrong?”

“He just looked round at me and gave me a horrible look,” Stella said, looking away from him and taking a large swig of her alco-pop she had bought.

I looked round at him again to see what she was referring to, although having already missed the look, I was still curious. He was now frowning heavily at the girl next to him and saying something to her which I wished I could hear. Her hand had fallen from his arm and they were instead crossed. I couldn’t see her face, she had her back to me, but I could his and he looked pissed about something.

Suddenly the girl snatched up her purse from the bar table and swung round, looking upset about something as she wandered out of the bar, a hand up to her face as she looked like she was wiping tears away from her eyes. I watched her curiously as she stormed right for the bar door and disappeared out into the street beyond. I felt like running after her and making sure she was okay, but I just couldn’t bring myself to leave.

“Fuck,” Stella suddenly muttered next to me and I sensed her straighten up. I looked round at her as she was staring wide-eyed at the bar, at someone. Rather than asking her what was up, I followed her gaze just at the same time a tall figure came into focus beside me.

~~~

Don’t forget to like, reblog, share, comment and/or follow!

thegirlwhowhispered.com

facebook.com/TheGirlWhoWhispered
instagram.com/thegirlwhowhispered/
twitter.com/alexdamion666

Here are some links to my other works:

My Normal – A Short Story
Rose Garden Sanatorium – Prologue
No one likes you! – A short story.

Protected: 6 Months in the Highlands – Thanks, COVID-19!

Author Interview – S. D. Reed

Hello, my little demons! 😈

The second instalment of Author Interviews is here, and today I have an interview from “a new author on the block,” S. D. Reed!

I really enjoyed this interview, S. D. was a pleasure to talk to, and after speaking to him, I’m really interested in his new book that is coming out! Today is the day the cover, title and release date was annonced, and I have to admit, it looks really good (I’m a little jealous!). See more about it below.

We also seem to have a few similarities with ideas when it comes to writing too, especially question 6 in the interview, this is certainly something I have been doing in my upcoming book, “Rose Garden Sanatorium” and I really like this approach, like we both agreed; it benefits the long-term readers.

Kerwall Town (Out 18th October 2020!)

Before we get into the interview, I first want to plug his book a little. It’ll be rude not to – besides doesn’t the cover look fab?

The novel is set in the late 70’s and is centred on a fictitious failed goverment experimental town that has long since been forgotten. That is until one day when two strangers arrive in town and claim to be the new owners and mayor.

Here’s the synopsis S. D. gave me:

After two strangers appear in the dilapidated town of Kerwall, the lives of every resident change. Members of the community are forced together as the number of bodies and secrets increase with every passing moment. With knowledge as their only tool against the world’s deadliest predator, the hunt for power commences. Kerwall’s hope rests on the shoulders of its youngest residents, forcing them into the depths of the earth, questioning everything they’ve ever known.

Inverview with S.D.

Right, now let’s get into the interview!

What inspired you to start writing?

I don’t think one singular thing inspired me, but rather a collection of things, and I also think it’s been brewing inside me, like I was born to write… does that make sense, or is it too cliché? Well, that’s it anyway. I would watch films and read books, and I was totally immersed. I wanted to do the same for others, to give them hope and escapism in the form of a book.

Do you use a pseudonym? If not, have you considered it?

I do, yeah, just because I feel my novels are more interesting than me. I want them to speak for themselves.

What was your hardest scene to write?

Well, without giving too much away about my debut novel, it was a certain death scene. I didn’t want to write it as I grew so attached to the character, but alas, the book needed one final sacrifice.

What does being a successful author look like to you?

Being Happy, and yes, with a capital ‘H’. Isn’t that what life is all about too? It’s not about the race, it’s about the humans, earth and making a difference. Ultimately, I’d like my novels to make a positive difference in someone’s life. That’s the mark of success to me.

Do you Google yourself?

Ha! I did once and Google didn’t know who I was… Nor did Alexa or Siri.

What is your most unusual writing quirk?

I have two, the first is that I’ll often have a character that enjoys making puns and the second is I work in long term story telling. What this means is, you may not get all the answers in one novel, but you may in another, as all my novels are connected in some way, you just gotta look for them…

Do you have any writing blogs you recommend?

I do indeed! There are so many wonderful writing blogs out there, but it would be remiss of me to not recommend and of course, yours too!! (aww, thanks!)

The ones I can recommend right away:
@PamelaRossAA
@avidbookworm78
@dansbookblog
@FootnotesMgmt
@CanvassartS

What is your favourite word, and why?

So, so many! Right now, it’s a simple one; fantabulous! I just love how positive it sounds. Another favourite is beatific!

Are there any themes in your work you are trying to portray?

I always try to convey a sense of good and evil, and a strong sense of teamwork too, as that’s how I believe we will all achieve things; together.

Is your book “Kerwall Town” based on a real person?

Nope, all my novels are fictitious. But I do do (hehe) an awful lot of research as I write in a lot of different time periods and countries.

If a film were made of your book, who would you cast in the leading roles?

I would LOVE for Debra Jo Rupp, Catherine O’Hare and Tom Holland to be in the leading roles, but who knows. I’d be happy either way, but they would certainly be very cool. Ideally, I would have loved Robin Williams.

What other projects are in the works?

I’ve just started work on my next novel, based in suburbia and most notably, America, and with Foodnotes Management, it’ll be out next year sometime… as will something else…

Do you prefer writing in silence or to music?

I don’t really mind, as long as the music isn’t club level loud, haha.

What would you advise young writers trying to build a publishing history or an author platform?

Stay connected, stay grounded and most importantly, have fun and just beleive in yourself. Write often too, that is the key. It doesn’t have to be a lot either, just often to keep the practice up.

Thanks, S.D! It’s been a pleasure.

Please do go check him out, here are the links to his website and social media handles:

sd-reed.com
Insta: sdreedauthor
Twitter: S.D.Reed.Author
Facebook: S D Reed

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thegirlwhowhispered.com

facebook.com/TheGirlWhoWhispered
instagram.com/thegirlwhowhispered/
twitter.com/alexdamion666

I Fell in Love with a Psychopath – Prologue

Hello, my little demons!

This isn’t a new story, but I realised today that the published book has a prologue and I haven’t posted it on my website/blog. So, here it is… the first page ‘I Fell in Love with a Psychopath’.

Prologue

A knock at my door made me jump out of my skin. The cold tea I had been nursing spilled over the blanket that was wrapped around me. I stared at the door in a panic, refusing to move. My previous thoughts momentarily forgotten about. I had a feeling I knew who it was on the other side of that suddenly too thin piece of wood; someone I didn’t want to see again, someone who made me extremely nervous, someone who everyone should be scared of.

I had been sat on my sofa while staring into nothingness when it happened; the knock at the door. I had been hiding out in my small apartment for a few days now, since I found out. I refused to leave, refused to go to work, I had invented some story about being ill—although it was technically true, I was feeling a little ill. I even started to ignore calls and my buzzer to my apartment out of fear. I hadn’t even noticed the tea had gone cold, let alone had splashed me when I jumped, I had more important things on my mind, like who was knocking at my door.

He had come for me.

There was another knock, this time a little louder as if the unwanted visitor didn’t think I heard the first knock. I had heard it alright, I was just ignoring it. I stayed as still and silent as possible, worrying that the person behind the door had superhuman hearing or something and could hear even my erratic heartbeat. My hands clutching my mug like it was somehow tethering me to safety.

Suddenly my mobile began to ring, making me jump yet again. I cursed silently at it. My door was thin, I was sure he’d be able to hear the shrill sound of my boring ringtone. When I caught a glance at the caller ID I saw it was my friend and work colleague; Leah. I made a mental note to give her an earful the next time I saw her. If I ever saw her again. If I survived to see her again.

The knock on the door suddenly got louder and more aggressive. A rushed pounding on the door. Panic coursed through me. Had he heard? Would he break the door down? I was sure it wasn’t too difficult, he had done it before.

But it was short lived.

“I know you’re in there, Jo, answer the door!” said a female voice.

I let out a large sigh, not even realising I had been holding my breath and laughed out loud at my foolishness. It wasn’t who I thought it was. I scrambled down from my sofa, nearly tripping over the blanket as I did and absentmindedly took the cold tea with me as I rushed to answer the door.

“What the fuck?” my friend Leah asked me when the door finally opened to her, her strong New Zealand accent wafted through my door along with her beautiful perfume.

“Hi, sorry! I thought you were someone else!” I sighed and stepped aside for her. But Leah hesitated as she looked from the cold cup of tea I was nursing in my hand, to my old baggy clothes on my thin body and finally resting on my clearly blotchy yet pale face.

I was English; I was bound to have a pale face. But lately it had become even paler, even though the sun was still showing its beautiful yellow face mid-autumn—well, they call it fall here, not autumn. But even I had noticed I was whiter than usual.

“You look a mess,” Leah said, and thankfully waltzed into my small flat.

I scanned the exposed corridor quickly behind her before I closed the door. I didn’t even noticing Leah had insulted me.

“Who did you think I was?” she continued, as she surveyed my mess of empty Chinese takeaway pots and unwashed mugs on the coffee table. “A cleaner?” she snorted.

“Don’t start,” I huffed, as I walked back to my sofa and plopped myself down. The sofa almost groaned in protest underneath me. I wasn’t fat, I was stick thin, but the sofa was old.

“I’m surprised to see you alive, I’ve not seen you at work for a few days,” Leah said, crossing her arms as if trying to avoid accidentally touching something poisonous. “People at work were starting to take bets on what was wrong. Vi suggested you contracted that awful bug that has been going around. Ben suggested you got annoyed with old Mole Face and went back to England”—the thought had actually crossed my mind, but not because of that awful supervisor we had; Mr Garcia—”I suggested you’d been murdered and your body was decomposing in your flat as we speak. Naturally I was the one who had to go and check.”

“Not far off the truth,” I muttered under my breath as I nervously wrapped the blanket around me again.

Like the blanket will protect me! I thought to myself.

“What?” Leah asked, not hearing me properly. Not that I intended for her to hear.

“Nothing, I’m fine, I just… I need some time to myself,” I explained.

Leah’s lovely brown eyebrows rose. “You mean… you’ve been skipping work because you needed time to yourself?”

I hated Leah’s eyebrows. Well, I hated Leah’s beauty. Well, not hated her; envied her. She was beautiful without even trying. I was pale, thin, with boring limp brown hair. Leah had curves in all the right places, a lovely brown face that made you think she was constantly going on exotic holidays, and had full luscious dark brown hair. Her eyebrows even looked perfectly shaped. I envied her.

“No, I mean… I’m not feeling well and I was keeping to myself.”

“You don’t look ill,” Leah said. “I mean, yeah, you look a little… off, but not ill. What’s going on, Jo?”

I sighed. I wasn’t sure if I was ready to tell Leah my problem. It’s not like she could help me. Not that I was sure I should tell her. It was a delicate situation.

“Seriously, girl!” Leah said, when I didn’t speak.

She plopping herself on the sofa next to me. This time the sofa groaned. I wondered for a moment if it was going to break under the both of us. Not that I was really concerned about it. Normally I would have been concerned, I would have worried that my landlord would have murdered me, considering it was her sofa, not mine. But even joking about it in my head didn’t seem funny anymore. Not when I had someone after me that was actually capable of murdering me.

“What’s going on?”

I shook my head and felt my eyes well up with tears involuntary. I hated it when I did that. I didn’t like to seem like I was doing it deliberately, asking for attention. I wasn’t. I didn’t want to cry in front of Leah.

“Jo, talk to me!” Leah demanded, looking extremely nervous suddenly.

“He’s dangerous,” I muttered, not really thinking about what I was saying as I was concentrating desperately on trying to hold back a sob.

“What?”

“He’s dangerous. He’s—” I paused, wondering maybe I shouldn’t say what I was about to say? It might scare Leah.

“What? Who? Jo, you’re not making any sense,” her voice went flat in worry. Probably more worried for my own sanity than the prospect of a dangerous person after me.

“I know, I’m sorry, I don’t want to scare you.”

“Scare me?”

“It’s okay, forget it.”

“No, tell me, what’s going on?” Leah asked, touching my arm. Her face dropped suddenly before she said, “Is this about… a guy?”

I nodded. I could nod, that was easy enough.

“Who?”

“I can’t tell you,” I choked.

“Okay, why is a guy causing you to skip work?”

“Because I think he wants to kill me,” I said, feeling a little panicky. “If I step outside that door, he will find me and he’ll kill me.”

Leah’s face paled. “So, you’re telling me your life is in danger?”

I nodded ferociously. “Yes, I’m telling you; the guy is dangerous. He’s… he’s a psychopath and he has a weird obsession with me.”

“Who though, Jo?” Leah pressed.

“I can’t tell you that.”

“Why not? Do I know him?”

“Yes.”

I saw Leah’s face pale even more. “Jo,” she started to whisper, “how am I going to help you if you won’t tell me who it is?”

I opened my mouth to say something, say anything, I wasn’t sure if I was going to explain everything or not, but I was interrupted; another knock pounded at the door. Leah and I both jumped and looked round.

“I know you’re in there! Open the door!” said a very angry male voice.

I knew who it was. I recognised the voice. I panicked. I had just realised I had forgotten to lock the door behind Leah. He could get in.

~~~

Click here to read the next chapter!

If you liked this story, please check out my other works!

Rose Garden Sanatorium – Prologue

It’s My Mistake – Chapter 1

Ender’s Love – Chapter 1

New Story idea! – Butterfly House

If you’re interested in buying the book, here’s the links:

Rose Garden Sanatorium – Chapter 6

Note: If you’re new to the story please read from the beginning here.

Chapter 6

Henry Blackburn

The sound of Highway to Hell from AC/DC filled the air, filling out into the garage and which was loud enough to hear from the office. It was still quite early so not everyone had arrived yet, but there was just the one person there to appreciate the classic music; the owner of Blackburn Garage.

A man with mousy brown hair, mid-thirties, an unshaven face, navy overalls that looked overused with the patchwork of oil, dirt and rust marks, stared out through the window into his workshop, mouth agape as he was mid-yawn.

He was wondering about when his delivery would arrive. He had gotten to work early that morning, much to the dismay of his wife, to attempt to finish a customer’s car. It was a lovely Mercedes-Benz C220 AMG in a deep blue and he had already delayed the customer as he found the front brake-pads had to be replaced—someone loved their breaks! The customer was quite okay with it, being appreciative that he had checked, but Henry wanted to get there early to make a start anyway.

Blackburn Garage was well known in London, it came highly recommended and specialised in German cars as the owner was a big fan of them. A lot of Audi, BMW and Mercedes drivers preferred to go to Blackburn Garage, it was cheaper than going to the dealership and it was actually guaranteed not to get ripped off. Even if you sold the car, local people would prefer to buy a car that had been serviced at Blackburn Garage over the dealership. Of course, they got a lot of other cars; Fords, Jaguars, Toyotas, Hondas, they even had a lovely 1967 Chevrolet Impala once, a local guy had moved over from the States and brought a few from his collection over from America.

Henry Blackburn loved his business. Ever since he was a small boy, he loved cars and loved learning how they worked. He was adamant from a young age he wanted to be a mechanic. Dreaming of owning his own company, hiring staff, ordering tools, having a large house and his own private collection of interesting cars, teaching his own son mechanics. He spent ages one night looking through a catalogue of tools with his brother listing out all the tools he would get.

Part of his dream came true, he now owned his own business; Blackburn Garage, but he didn’t own any of the cars in it, they were all customer’s cars. He personally only owned two; his own E90 BMW M3—which he was sure the clutch was on its way out—and his wife’s Fiat 500 which he wouldn’t admit to her, but he hated. He also didn’t have a son, he didn’t have any children, mostly because his wife decided she didn’t want children and he was talked out of the idea of having them too, made to think it was his idea. Although a part of him felt he was missing out. But she was right, it wasn’t a good idea bringing children into this world.

Henry’s daydream of the time before was broken when he heard his mobile phone go off, he dug it out of his overall’s pocket, ignoring the large crack on the screen and opened the message. It was his younger brother, who had no concept of time, and laughed at the childish and crude picture he had decided to forward to him. He sent a quick reply back before pocketing his phone and remembered he was making a cup of coffee.

Henry’s brother, Dean, had gone a completely separate way to him. Dean wasn’t really interested in cars and mechanics like Henry. In fact, Henry couldn’t really remember Dean being enthusiastic about much when he was young. He had a troubled life, struggling to fit in. Both the boys had been home-schooled, their family deciding it was for the best. This didn’t really bother Henry, he easily made friends, always outgoing and bubbly, but Dean wasn’t so lucky. Although Dean seemed to have figured out his calling in the end.

Henry finished making his strong cup of coffee; a dark mess in a questionable hygienic mug with a Ford Capri on the side and headed back into his workshop. He placed the coffee on top of his big black toolbox and got back to taking the wheel off the deep blue Mercedes.

~~~

Click here to read the next chapter

If you liked this story, please check out my other works!

New Story Idea – “I fell in Love with a Psychopath”

It’s My Mistake – Chapter 1

Ender’s Love – Chapter 1

New Story idea! – Butterfly House

Check out these other posts about Rose Garden Sanatorium!

Why “The Girl Who Whispered”?

Hello, my little demons! 😈

I don’t get many questions about why the name “The Girl Who Whispered”, but I have had a few comments that have been made in poor taste, so I want to just explain where the name comes from, why I use it and why some of these jokes are in bad taste.

Short answer: I had selective mutism as a child.

Selective mutism is defined as “a complex childhood anxiety disorder characterized by a child’s inability to speak and communicate effectively in select social settings, such as school. These children are able to speak and communicate in settings where they are comfortable, secure and relaxed.” – Referenced from https://selectivemutismcenter.org/whatisselectivemutism/

I had no idea there was even a defined term for this until only a few years ago!

Long answer:

When I was a young child, I was bullied. I had red hair and freckles and I was quite reserved and quiet. There are a lot of other complex situations that made me the way I am, and I don’t personally have all the answers, nor do I feel completely comfortable explaining them.

But I will explain that I think it started after a particular issue in Primary School. I remember it quite well, considering I was probably only about 5 at the time. I remember being in a classroom with a load of other children, we were all playing, having a down time or something. There was a particular child, a boy, who decided to rearrange the tables and chairs, but he was deliberately trying to trap me in them, deliberately singling me out. It was at this time that the teacher called us all over, but this boy kept moving the tables and chairs so I couldn’t get out. I think I was the one who got told off for not listening to the teacher, but she failed to notice I wasn’t ignoring her, I was being trapped by this bully.

Somewhere in my little brain I decided enough was enough, after all the years of adults not listening to me, I went into remission.

I stopped talking.

I refused to talk to the teacher. My friends.

Even my parents.

I went home that day and my mum didn’t understand why I wasn’t talking to her. My dad got home from work and he didn’t understand why I wasn’t talking.

I had developed selective mutism.

My parents tried in a few ways to help me, one of which was to send me to a different Secondary School than the other kids. Most of the kids, after completing Primary School, went to one Secondary School. I went to a completely different one. It didn’t work though.

And by then, because the issue hadn’t be addressed properly, it evolved. As a pre-teen and eventually a teen in Secondary School, I had difficulty trying to express myself because of my selective mutism and in the end I found a new way to communicate; by whispering.

I had become The Girl Who Whispered.

Of course, this had it’s own issues. A lot of times people would assume I just had a bad throat and lost my voice – not that I corrected them. I had more children bullying me because I was now different. I had teachers trying to fix me. I had my parents and friends trick me into talking. I had issues with communicating still. Issues with grades. Social issues. And I developed a few bad habits from the social issues (avoidance for example).

My selective mutism didn’t really go away until I became a young adult, when I was about 17 years old when I left school and went to college. All the kids in the class were new, no one knew who I was (until I met one kid who was at my old Primary School, which I remember vividly, but I just hoped he didn’t remember me!)

But I finally had a voice. And some really bad social skills!

Meeting up with old friends, or bumping into those I went to school with was extremely awkward, but I eventually “grew out” of my selective mutism and started talking to them all properly.

A lot of my newer friends didn’t even know about my previous issues. It’s only until recently in the last few years that I started talking about it and opening up.

Also, my selective mutism not only gave me issues with social skills, but I also developed depression and anxiety. Most of my life has been difficult. Even now I get bad days. But the bad days are easier to deal with now, because I kept fighting. I learn to recognise when days got bad. Found healthier coping mechanisms. And grew emotionally.

The ironic thing is, when I was a child, if I got passionate about something you couldn’t shut me up about it (even as an adult). But when I had selective mutism, I lacked that basic need, to have a voice, to speak up for myself.

It still haunts me now, my past, what happened to me as a child. And I’m slowly getting over it, learning social skills, communicating properly, and finding ways to get over my weaknesses (social situations for example).

This is one of the reasons why I write. It’s a silent voice. Because when I was a child, not only did I love reading (as a form of escapism from the real-world I hated so much), but writing was my way of communicating easily. When computers became popular, I used to sit for hours on Instant Messenger, MySpace and Chat rooms, it was a way of being normal for a change – no one knew I didn’t talk properly. I would also write stories, build my own little universe to escape to.

I, one day, would also love to do something where I’m not sat behind a computer screen with written words. I actually love to sing and I have a huge interest in acting.

I remember the first time I actually got to “stand up” and sing to an audience, and although it isn’t as glamorous as it sounds, as I just stood on a tour bus in Brooklyn. But, my goodness, I will never forget that. And I’m so glad my friend got that picture (see below).

This is me singing on the tour bus. For more photos of me, scroll to the bottom of the post! 🙂

Acting is another thing I wouldn’t mind to do – although I’m realistic, I can’t see it really happening, everyone wants to be an actor! – because not only are you speaking out, saying your lines, but you’re also pretending to be someone else… something I wished a lot when I was a child. I wished so often to be anyone else but Alex. (Update: Since writing this blog post, however, I am planning a tour of America, for charity… and I will be filming it!)

Now, though, I embrace it. I embrace who I am and what I went through as a child. It made me who I am today. Okay, I still have a few quirks and flaws, but I hate to imagine who I would be now without it.

I may never have travelled to Australia. I may never have abseiled Forth Rail Bridge. I may never have walked across Sailsbury Plain. I may never have got my Bachelor’s Degree or my Master’s Degree. I may never have met all the interesting people over the years. I may never have flown a plane. I may never have fired that brown bess musket.

And, of course, I may never have become a writer and an author and I may never use my writing to help others.

I am Alex Damion.

And I am The Girl Who Whispered.

I use this designation to hopefully inspire people.

Keep fighting, guys! ❤

P.s. If you think you know someone who has selective mutism, please try encourage them to get professional help. Do not try to “shock” them into talking. Do not simply assume it “will go” that “it’s a phase”. If it’s lasting more than a few weeks or months, then it could develop into something more serious. Unless you are a professional who understands selective mutism, do not attempt to fix it! I wished my parents or teachers did more, they didn’t, and it got worse and had a negative impact on my life.

P.P.s The song I sang on the tour bus was “Innocent Eyes” by Delta Goodrem.

~~~

Here are a few other photos of me over the years:

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