Penny Hooper's Blog, page 13

Rebecca – Chapter 1

Bit of a back story to this one before you read on. I started this one a while ago, before ‘Rose Garden Sanatorium’ and way before ‘It’s My Mistake’ but I never finished it. Reason for that was because I came up with the idea of Rose Garden Sanatorium before finishing it and got distracted to write that one instead!

Now, a few months on and I have decided to finish ‘Rebecca’ first and publish it along with ‘It’s My Mistake’, just to get a few books out there before I finished ‘Rose Garden Sanatorium’. I have decided to publish Rose Garden professionally and as my studies start up soon I might not have a lot of time to finish it before then (nor the funds, as it’s going to cost up to £1500, which I don’t have as I’m not employed!)

Anyway, I figured I’d post a few chapters of Rebecca for you anyway, so you can see what to expect when I finally finish and publish this one.

If you’re interested in the other two and haven’t come across them before, see below for the links to my other posts.

P.S. Please bare in mind this currently in first draft stage, but if you do see any mistakes in grammar, spelling or even if you’d like to comment on plotline/wording/description (or lack of as that hasn’t been added perfectly yet either) feel free to let me know.

Rose Garden Sanatorium — Chapter 3

Please read the previous chapters before reading this one.

Read the Prologue here.

Read Chapter 1 here.

Read Chapter 2 here.

Copyright © Penny Hooper 2017

Rose Garden Sanatorium
Chapter 3

 

 

“Sir, what’s going on?” asked a young woman with brown short cropped hair underneath a black army hat that was strapped uncomfortably under her slightly pointy chin.

She was dressed in what can only be described as an official black tactical uniform. The black trousers were held around the waist by a simple clip belt which also supported a holster for her walky-talky to communicate with the rest of her team and other holsters which possibly contained other interesting items needed for her missions, including a hand gun that only their team were apparently allowed; hand guns are usually illegal in the United Kingdom. There were also a number of pockets, from the sleeves of her black jacket to the thighs on her trousers. Accompanying her tactical uniform she also held a large gun; a P90, held tight to her chest almost protectively, an infrared viewfinder already installed on top of it. She rolled her shoulders up slightly to adjust the weight of her jacket, which held a bullet-proof vest hidden underneath. The tactical uniform looked odd on the young woman’s small and skinny frame, which gave her a few annoying sexist comments from her male colleagues, but she knew she was just as capable as them.

The young agent had rushed out of the official building behind her and up to her superior. The young woman, her superior and the rest of the team marched towards a large black van that was parked on the road ahead, a few trees and bushes hiding it from the building behind.

She wouldn’t admit it, especially not to her superior and certainly not to her comrades, but she was extremely nervous.

“What you are trained to do, agent,” replied a tall, handsome and greying man, also in tactical uniform and another P90 held to his chest. Clearly her superior.

“Does this mean-?” the woman started, but the man stopped and turned around to look at her, giving her a stern look. The young agent stopped herself, in shock and instantly fell quiet as her superior’s eyes searched her own.

After a few seconds, he spoke; “I suggest you leave the questions to me, is that clear?”

“Yes, sir,” she nodded, suddenly holding her posture authoritatively.

“Good, we will all find out soon enough what is going on,” the man said and waved the woman and the rest of his team into the van through a door which had been opened by another agent at the front of the group, who had a large black beard to match his large dark sideburns underneath his own black army hat.

The woman climbed into the back of the van after rest of her comrades, settling into a custom-made seat next to a man with bright red hair and a nervously worried face that could compete with her own. Her superior was the last to get in, shutting the van door behind him, plummeting the vehicle in eerie silent darkness and before her eyes adjusted to the sudden change, the van lurched forwards to take them to their destination.

The woman’s eyes fell on the outline of the man right at the back, clearly seeing he held his posture authoritatively himself, as he stared out into space. The woman wondered if he, her superior was just as scared as the rest of them. She had a horrible feeling- this wasn’t a drill.

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Rose Garden Sanatorium – Chapter 2

Please read the previous chapters before reading this one.

Read the Prologue here.

Read Chapter 1 here.

Copyright © Penny Hooper 2017

Rose Garden Sanatorium

Chapter 2

 

Taylor woke bolt upright, sweat dripping down her face and back. She stared wide-eyed out into the darkness of her room trying to gather her bearings.

“What-?” she muttered to herself in the middle of the dark. Of course, she was alone. She was always alone. She preferred to be alone. So no one was there to hear her.

She rubbed her face, unpeeling her brown hair off her forehead from where the sweat had made her hair damp and stick to her face. And noticed her back also felt hot and sticky from even more perspiration.

She looked round at her phone, which was sat untouched on her dark brown and cheap bedside table, to look at the time. She pressed the button on the front of the phone and the room lit up from the screen. 05:11 flashed at her from the dark and with a groan of frustration, she threw herself back onto the bed. It was the morning and her alarm was due to go off in twenty minutes to get her up for work.

She led there with her long pale and thin arm over her forehead for a few minutes, going over the strange dream. A strange creature was laughing at her, large horns protruding from his head, sharp yellowing teeth, his wings spread wide and his tail wiping back and forth as if mocking her. But it wasn’t just laughing she could hear, she could hear other voices, shouting, yelling, crying, screaming.

She pushed the thoughts back and decided to just get up. She threw the covers off and pulled herself round to the edge of the bed. Her feet, which were still loosely in socks, hit the old cream carpet below her.

She sighed, it was another work day. Another day to get up and go to a job which she hated. A job to pay for a life she hated. But what other choice did she have? She reluctantly pulled herself off the bed and headed to her bathroom to have a shower.

*

Ten minutes later, Taylor stood in her compact kitchen, feeling refreshed and awake. She grabbed a cereal box from the cupboard above her sink and poured the contents into a bowl that was sat on top of the kitchen counter top. The news playing in the background on her small and cheap flat screen TV which was sat lonely in the living-room. She watched the news while shoving a large spoonful of cereal into her mouth and lent against the divide between the kitchen and her living-room, watching and frowning.

“A young boy by the name of Samuel Chaudhary has been reported missing, his mother last saw him at six o’clock yesterday. He is reported to have gone out with friends after having dinner with his parents but has not returned home since. Samuel is only twelve years old and may have been out with friends of the same age,” said a news reporter on the TV.

While eating breakfast from the bowl, which currently rested in her left hand, she wondered what it would be like for that poor mother knowing that her son didn’t come home that evening. Taylor wished she had a mother who would be worried about her own whereabouts if she went missing. Her own mother had died a while ago.

The news reporter moved on to the next piece of news, explaining that there was a strange sighting of a flying animal seen in the early hours of the morning. But Taylor snorted at the media hype of what was probably just an escaped parrot or something and turned off the TV. She remembered there was something like that that happened before and it turned out to be a large African Grey parrot. After taking the last spoonful of cereal she placed the bowl lazily in the sink unwashed, grabbed her work ID from the side, which clearly showed her long brown hair, boring blue eyes and pale round face and then headed off to brush her teeth before she could set off for another long and boring day at work.

*

Taylor sat on her usual bus, number 1a, which she caught from her usual bus stop at 7:05.

She simply sat and stared out of the window, her face resting in her hand, while her arm was resting on the side of the bus’s window frame uncomfortably, as she watched the world going by.

She watched as a young woman attempted to walk down the road in the opposite direction to the bus was travelling, a red faced screaming toddler squirming in his pushchair as the young mother still half-asleep spoke into her mobile phone. Taylor wondered who she was talking to. A boyfriend? A friend? A work-colleague to explain she was going to be late for work yet again because her son didn’t want to put on his shoes again.

This led Taylor to wonder what everyone else in the world was up to in their lives. She wondered if maybe there were others out there that had lives more interesting than hers. Or if everyone else in the world got up every weekday, to go to a boring job, only to come home to eat and sleep, only resting at the weekends. She knew it wasn’t entirely true, what about those who were rich? Or had the job of their dreams? She wondered what her life would be like if things changed?

But before she had chance to daydream about what her life would be like if she didn’t have to work, she felt a strange feeling resurface in her chest and then suddenly glimpsed something very strange from an alleyway. Luckily the bus slowed down for a set of traffic lights which had moved from amber to a rather definitive and resounding red and thus giving Taylor a decent view of the alleyway. She peered out of the window and saw a strange humanoid-like being, it was visibly red with horns protruding from the sides of its head and was wrapped up in some sort of fabric to keep it warm. She wasn’t sure if what she saw was right, it must have been a trick of light or something, because not only was the being in darkness but the bus jerked forward again to continue past the now green traffic lights, knocking Taylor’s elbow off the window edge. But not before the being managed to look right at Taylor, its eyes black as coal.

But what was interesting, was the fact that not only did the creature look exactly like what she saw in her dream, she realised it was the same feeling accompanied with it.

Suddenly a mixture of voices came to her head, she gasped and closed her eyes as the inside of her head came alive with a mumbling and muffled mess of sounds. She knew it was talking, but she couldn’t make out words let alone sentences. She held her hands to her temples and groaned, the more she thought of them, the louder they got.

“SHUT UP!” she yelled suddenly and the voices stopped.

She blinked and looked up, remembering she was on the bus and had a few faces staring at her from their seats. She realised in that moment that the voices were in her head.

‘Am I going mad?’ she thought to herself as she diverted her attention to the outside world once again, but noticing a few people still staring at her curiously. Even the bus driver was looking in his rear-view mirror to see what the fuss was about.

*

When Taylor got into work, she had managed to convince herself that what she saw wasn’t real, it must have been a trick of light, or a prankster in a costume. Something innocent must be responsible.

She also managed to convince herself that the voices weren’t real either.

‘Maybe it’s just stress?’ she thought to herself, ‘Either that or I’m going mad!’

However, as she walked through the front doors of the Head Office of Harold Bank PLC she noticed there was a strange sense around the workplace. People appeared to be on edge, eyes darting around, body postures stiff. There was none of the usual early Friday morning happy greetings going on. The front entrance looked quieter than usual, and Taylor even noticed Janice the very Catholic yet overly friendly receptionist who she usually waved to politely every morning without fail wasn’t in.

“Morning Taylor,” said one of the security guards near the reception. Taylor flashed him her ID badge although she probably didn’t need to, considering the security guard knew her very well now. But it was company policy regardless.

“Morning,” she replied politely and forced a smile. She pushed the thought of the no-show Janice from her mind as she walked away from the long reception desk and towards the office door behind.

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Rose Garden Sanatorium – Chapter 1

Please read the Prologue here before reading Chapter 1.

Thank you.

This new thing called Steemit – earn to write!

So, I came across this website a while ago, called ‘Steemit’. A friend of mine introduced me to it. And it’s not bad! You actually earn money for blogging.

You can blog about anything, from photography and art, some people blog about cryptocurrencies and a lot of people, like myself, use it to blog about writing. I’ve posted a short story, wrote about how I create book cover designs, and posted up samples of my book(s).

I don’t know much about cryptocurrencies, but this is real money that can be converted into bitcoin and then you can subsequently sell into real money such as USD or GBP.

Only, I’ve found it extremely difficult, as a noobie in cryptocurrencies, to convert this steem and steem dollars into GBP (I’m British, don’t judge me!).

Now, it’s not as easy as going into your Steemit account and just selecting an option to cash out into your account, you have to use a website called blocktrades to transfer the steem or steem dollars into bitcoin and it transfers it into another account such as CoinBase. Bitcoin is therefore now in your CoinBase account!

Only, I’ve had massive issues getting my PayPal connected up to my CoinBase account, so seem to have hit a block in this cryptocurrency road!

I have the option to add a bank account, but to verify this bank account, I have to transfer a small fee to a bank in Estonia (which I will get charged for!)

Someone has mentioned that you can use another account called Wirex, not me, because I’m in the UK!

Or another one is Payaz, and I have no idea where my wallet address is to put into Blocktrades! If there is one at all!

So, watch this space, I’ve posted another blog post on my Steemit account asking for help!

If you know the answer to this, please do let me know! I’m tearing my hair out!

If you’re on steemit or your interested in steemit, do check out my blog here.

 

My Normal – A Short Story by Penny Hooper

“What’s your name?” said a voice, slightly distant. I wasn’t even sure if I could see the speaker’s mouth move, but I knew that’s what he said.

“Um-, Lucy,” I replied confidently. It didn’t matter what the intentions of the speaker were, he couldn’t hurt me even if he tried.

“Why Lucy?” he asked, as if knowing that wasn’t my real name. Of course it wasn’t, but here I could be anyone I wanted.

“Because-, it’s a name that reminds me of something,” I smiled, just about making out the shape of this person in front of me now. He was coming into view a bit. He was tall and dark. Not dark as in dark hair or dark skin colour. He was dark, like a silhouette. I still couldn’t make out his features. No matter how hard I tried to focus on them. In fact, the more I focused, the more distorted he became.

It didn’t bother me though, it didn’t matter what he looked like. He wasn’t important. Nothing was really important here.

“Come with me Lucy,” the figure said and a long arm shot out from no-where to try to grab me. I dodged it quickly, avoiding the contact. I didn’t like to be touched. It felt- like I wasn’t in control if I let this person touch me.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” I said, my voice changing slightly. I sounded more menacing.

The figure of a man in front of me didn’t say anything, he just frowned, or at least I think he frowned. I could sense he wasn’t happy. I knew I had to get away.

I turned around and came face-to-face with a wall. Normal people probably would have panicked if they saw a wall. Not me, I love them. And there is a reason for that, which I am about to show.

I smiled, gave the man-figure a quick glance as he looked confused and I just stepped back towards the wall. And suddenly, as if by magic I just- slipped right through it. As if the wall wasn’t there.

The only thing that I regret was not knowing what happened to that man-figure, but I felt happy knowing he was probably standing the other side of that wall and wondering what on earth was going on. Or, he might not be there anymore, no longer existing. It was hard to tell in this world.

I suddenly found myself walking down a corridor. It was light and airy. It reminded me of somewhere I used to work. It was on a second floor. A metal banister on either side, stopping me from falling to the second floor. It was high. It made me feel a little weak. I don’t like heights. Even here, where things were- different.

I saw someone walk towards me from the other side of the corridor, the person came into view. A woman I used to work with. I do work with. I think I work with. She had her hair tied back like she normally does into a tight ponytail. I’ve forgotten her name. How can I forget her name?

“Morning,” she said.

What was her name?

“Morning-, Alice,” I said. Making up a name.

“How are you today?” she said, apparently I got her name right?

“I’m fine,” I said. Short and sweet. That’s how I kept the conversation as I dodged around the woman whose name was apparently Alice. She wasn’t important, I had somewhere to be. I felt a sense of urgency. Maybe that man was still after me, I wasn’t sure.

I got to the end of the corridor and got to another door. I could open it, but I instead I smiled and just walked through it. This was fun!

The other side of the room, it suddenly changed. I was outside. I felt the need to run, to get away from the building behind me. Although I had somehow gone from a second story in a building to somewhere outside.

I ran. I wasn’t sure what I was running from, but I ran. Until, I couldn’t. Suddenly somehow I wasn’t able to run. My legs were moving but I wasn’t getting anywhere!

I turned around and saw the man-figure walking towards me, he had found me. I let out a scream. No sound came out. I tried to move away, I couldn’t.

The man-figure got closer, except it was no longer a man-figure, it was a large dark wolf. Its teeth were bared and drool was hanging from the side of his mouth. I felt panicky again. There were no walls to go through.

No, but maybe I could do something else!

I crouched to the floor, my hand only a mere millimetre away from the floor and I sprang up and into the air. But I didn’t come back down again. I just hovered there. I was in the air, but I was only two feet above the ground.

It wasn’t high enough to get away from the wolf. I willed myself up, I went up higher. But only by another foot.

It still wasn’t high enough.

So I decided to move away instead, before the wolf got me. Gliding away, in mid-air, three feet off the ground. I managed to avoid the wolf.

But it was still coming for me, I moved faster, so did the wolf. I tried to climb higher, only getting so far and not any further.

I got as far as the sea. Somehow I had managed to get far away from where I originally was, where ever that was, and got to the coast.

But I had a fear of open water. The deep dark murky unknown scared me, even here. Even though I was three feet above the ground, hovering unnaturally. With the ability to pass through solid walls. And probably other superpowers here in the world. Yet, water still scared me.

I got over the water, but I didn’t go far. Hovering there and watching the wolf, which had turned into my childhood dog.

I watched as his fluffy tail just swung left and right, panting as if he had been running to keep up with me. But looking happy to see me.

I smiled and glided back over to the side where dry land luckily was. And I set my feet back on the earth.

“Hello boy,” I greeted my dog and I bent down to stroke him.

But just before my hand touched the soft and warm coat of my childhood dog, he lunged for me.

The jolt woke me up.

I stared up at the ceiling and blinked into the darkness. And then sighed.

“What a strange dream,” I muttered to myself and rolled over.

I had another lucid dream.

Check out my other works:

Read Chapter 1 of ‘It’s My Mistake’ here.

Or, buy and download the whole ebook on Amazon or Smashwords.

Check out my Prologue for Rose Garden Sanatorium here.

Read how I come up with character names, .

 

Rose Garden Sanatorium – Prologue

Copyright © Penny Hooper 2017

All rights reserved.

Prologue

 

 

A large swarm of pigeons flew up in a rush, disturbing the long since settled dust in the derelict building. The building that many years ago once held many people. Doctors once would have walked around in their white coats, holding patient records in their hands and with their stethoscopes hanging around their necks. The nurses would be rushing around with bed pans and other equally rudimentary items, wearing aprons with large red crosses on them and with their hair pinned back into tight buns. Patients would also be seen in straitjackets screaming at the top of their lungs when they were due for more sedatives.

The building now, however, was eerily silent – yet if you listened close enough you would swear you could hear a distance scream. There were scattered red bricks from the broken walls, broken windows boarded up from the outside and graffiti clinging helplessly on the peeling walls. It was obvious the building was no longer in use.

The pigeons made the boy jump as he walked into an open hall, side stepping past a weed that had decided to reclaim the area – now humans were no longer occupying the building. He stopped to regain his breath and slow his beating heart.

‘It’s just an old building’ he thought to himself, hoping to calm his nerves.

The boy was young, his round slightly tanned Asian face still had a hint of baby fat lingering in his cheeks, his short dark hair complimented his dark brown eyes. He stood holding the zipper on his jacket, close to where his beating heart sat pounding in his chest. His jacket was slightly dirty from months of use and not seeing the inside of a washing machine. It was his favourite and deemed lucky jacket, it was dark red with black trim around the collar and cuffs. Contrasting with the blue in his jeans, which were slightly too long for his legs, evident from the fraying at the bottom, where his brand new Nike trainers would catch them when he walked.

After composing himself a little, he decided to continue moving onwards, through the vastness of the open hall.

‘The quicker I get it, the quicker I can get out’, he thought to himself as he climbed over a fallen wall, the broken red bricks threatening to pierce the skin on his legs.

He walked quietly and as quickly as possible to the other side of the hall to another corridor, the smell of urine potent in this part of the building as he neared a door separating the hall from the corridor ahead. He also noticed another other smell lingering in the air, yet he didn’t think much of it; he had a job to do.

The door was ajar. Though he was sure his friend told him he’d have to open a door at the other end of the hall? Maybe it just fell down since his friend had been here? The door, mould threatening to consume it from the bottom upwards, was leaning awkwardly against the corridor wall, one hinge still attached, the other not.

The boy looked down the corridor to another door at the far end. That was the last door he needed to go through, he was nearly there. He walked slowly, stepping over a weed and some broken glass and side-stepping past an old chair left discarded and lonely in the corridor.

But something made him stop; a sound. He listened out. He could hear someone muttering, and it was coming from that room beyond the door. He realised that strange smell was stronger here too. He certainly wasn’t imagining it. He couldn’t place what the smell was, but he knew it was some sort of incense, he’d smelt something similar in a Thai restaurant one time.

He stood there for a few seconds, in panic. He knew if he ran away now, he’d have his friend at him, telling him he was a wimp for not getting the item he was supposed to get; that damn brick. But if he stayed here, and whoever was the other side of the door was a murderer or something, he’d be dead.

The muttering started to get louder as he stood there, the person was talking louder now, and the boy realised it was a woman’s voice. Spiked with curiosity, he couldn’t help but walk towards the door slowly and quietly. Maybe, if he got close enough, he could hear what she was saying.

The closer he got, the louder the voice got, but not just because he was getting nearer, she was getting louder. Now able to hear her, he started to realise that she was repeating something, although he just could not work out what she was saying, she was speaking a foreign language. Repeating something. The only word he picked up was ‘mammon’ or something similar.

‘What is she doing?’ he thought, ‘And what language is that?’ He crept closer to the door, his curiosity getting the better of him. He was now right by the door, if he just peaked through the gap, he’d be able to see into the room. He could already see shadows dancing across the walls and floor, there was some kind of light and a waft of that strange incense smell too.

The boy shifted his weight slightly on one leg, so that he could peer round the corner of the door, the room slowly came into focus. There was indeed a woman, a woman dressed in all black, she had one hand up in the air, as if she was waving to someone and the other held something burning, she was waving it in a strange motion. She was now shouting, which the boy was grateful for as he was worried she would have heard him by now otherwise.

He saw the brick laying in the middle of the room on the floor, with a very delicate carving of a strange symbol in its side. But he knew there was no chance he was going to be able to go in the room and get it without being noticed. But before he could turn around and leave the building empty-handed, a strange cloud like object started to form before the woman.

Transfixed on the sight, he watched as it swirled and swirled, getting bigger and bigger until suddenly it somehow imploded and vanished. But it didn’t vanish into thin air, it vanished into a crack, a crack that had formed in thin air. The woman stopped shouting now, and the boy found himself going rigid, not just out of terror, but worried about making a sound.

Suddenly, the crack started to open up from the other side, it was as if something was trying to come through, like a rip in fabric. But he could just about see the other side, there was nothing there. The crack started to get wider and wider and a terrifying clawed red hand reached through. The boy’s eyes went wide as he saw the red hand tear the crack open up in one swift movement and the whole red body attached to the hand climbed through, horns, tail and wings included.

The boy let out a squeak of terror accidentally and covered his mouth with his hand, but it was too late, the creature and the woman turned round, both staring right at the boy, both with the same horrifying pitch black eyes.

 

It’s My Mistake – Chapter 1

It’s My Mistake – A Novel By Penny Hooper – Chapter 1

Copyright ©2017 Penny Hooper

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without prior permission in writing from the author.

Penny Hooper has asserted her right under Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work.

This book is a work of fiction and, except in the case of historical fact, any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Published by Penny Hooper herself 20th June 2017.

First Edition.

 

Chapter 1

 

“Mrs Mark?” I heard someone call.

Miss! For the last time it’s Miss!

I groaned and stood up from the hard and uncomfortable plastic chair that I was sat on and walked towards the two beady and judging eyes that stared at me.

The woman who owned the eyes held open the door for me to walk through and I trudged through self-consciously towards the room that laid in wait behind.

I woke up feeling fine this morning. I knew I had this meeting, it had been circled on my calendar for weeks. I told myself that I would ace the interview and I would finally get a job in a hotel like I have wanted for years.

But after watching a few worried and upset looking faces pile out of the room I was about to enter, one by one, my confidence slowly disappeared. These people looked way smarter, wiser – I couldn’t say old, that would be rude of me – and even more confident than I am. I was way in over my head.

Especially when I had this obnoxious woman finally give me the usual up and down look like she had given all the others. Maybe the casual yet slightly formal look wasn’t the best look to go for?

I walked in, nearly tripping up as my heel caught the edge of a carpet tile and I stumbled into the room. I felt the palms of my hands go instantly sweaty.

I was being stared at by three faces. Silently judging no doubt. One of the faces was of a woman, with pursed lips and glasses with a thick rim hanging onto her thin nose, her hair was short and wiry, as if attempting to look young and hip but failing miserable. Next to her was a slightly younger person, a man this time, but still much older than myself, judging by the greying hair on the sides of his head and his thinning hair on top, I would have said he was in his late forties. But the other man, he was handsome. A thick square jaw, cleanly shaven, piercing blue-grey eyes under a small mat of dirt-blonde hair. He also wore a curiously wicked smile on his face as if he was amused by my appearance.

You and me both fella.

I stole a glance at myself in the reflection of the large mirror wall behind them. I looked stupidly under-dressed. Wearing black jeans and purple court heels, and a plain black t-shirt with a deep purple blazer. My long brown hair looking a mess because I had been sat running my sweaty hands through it nervously. I was starting to think I didn’t look right for the role.

“H-hi,” I stuttered, when I realised no one was saying anything. Maybe it was up to me to start this interview? Maybe this was part one of the test? Had I failed already?

“Mrs Mark, it says here that-” started the older man with the greying and thinning hair. He looked down at some paperwork in his hands as he spoke.

“Miss,” I corrected confidently.

The man looked up from the paperwork and glared at me. I felt my palms getting sweatier.

“Excuse me?” he frowned at me.

“I- I’m not Mrs Mark, I-” I started, but got interrupted.

“You’re not Mrs Mark?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at me, “Then who are you?”

“No, I mean, I am, but I’m not-” I got interrupted again.

“Deborah called for Mrs Mark, why have you come into this room if you are not Mrs Mark?”

“No, wait, you misunderstood,” I panicked. This was going terribly wrong already, “I’m single, I’m not-”

“That’s good to know,” the young handsome man suddenly said. I looked at him and saw he now had a large grin on his face. I gulped. Was he grinning at me? Yeah, probably because I was an idiot for even thinking I could get this job.

“Look, whoever you are I suggest you-” the woman started, but she got interrupted. Not by me though.

“What’s your name?” said the handsome man, sitting forwards on his desk curiously staring at me as if he was talking to me and ignoring the others in the room. I felt suddenly warmer than usual. His bright grey-blue eyes were staring right at me.

“It’s Miss Mark, not Mrs.”

The woman and the older man both sighed in unison as the young man gave out a hearty laugh.

“Why didn’t you say that then!” said the woman.

“I tried-” I sighed.

“You just assumed she was someone else, Mirren,” said the handsome man, sitting back in his seat, but not taking his piercing eyes off me, “You just assumed that she came in here after someone else’s name was called and didn’t give her enough time to actually explain. In fact it is our mistake for wrongly assuming she was married, it’s actually highly offensive.”

The older woman sat up straight suddenly and looked visibly upset that she had been caught out being rude to someone, even the other man looked a little taken aback.

“But she did just stand there and stutter, all she had to do was say that her name was Miss Mark and not try and hit on the men in this room by telling them she’s single!”

“I don’t think-” the older man started, but got interrupted. This time by me.

“Excuse me!” I snapped, I knew this interview was pretty much ruined now anyway, so it was pointless trying to be nice to these people, but I wasn’t going to let them get away with insulting me! “I walked into this room feeling a little self-conscious, I’ve been looking forward to this bloody interview for weeks, I really want this job, so I was a little nervous!”

“Dressed like that?” the woman snorted, after composing herself from being spoken back to like that.

“I’ll admit, looking at how overly dressed you lot are, and the other unsuspecting idiots out there, who have dressed in suits, I do feel just a tad underdressed and out of place, but I didn’t want to be one of those ‘in-your-face’ suit dressed women in high heels trying to show off my tits to get the job,” I realised too late that my voice was getting louder, “but after meeting you, I feel that actually I’m not right for this job, and my full and undivided commitment would be wasted here in this company and I’d rather find another hotel that accept me for my experience and drive and not because I wore a suit that I’d be stupidly uncomfortable in anyway!”

I span round and went to leave the room without another word, but something else got my attention, the carpet tile I nearly tripped on, it was clearly poking up. I wondered how many people had nearly tripped over this obvious health and safety risk.

“And for fuck sake, get rid of these damn carpet tiles before someone trips and hurts themselves!” and I finally stormed out of the room without another word.

If you’re interested in reading more, you can buy and download on Amazon: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0731KDJLZ

To Blog or Not to Blog, That’s the Question

I’ve been having difficulty actually motivating myself to write a blog, it’s not been easy. I think, personally, the reason why it’s not been easy, is because I don’t get a lot of ‘traffic’ through it. But then, if I don’t blog, I don’t get traffic.

I’ve been using Twitter a lot recently though, and at first, it has been brilliant, I love making new connections, even go as far as new friends, meet new authors, learn a few things along the way. But, in terms of actually marketing my work, it’s not been the ‘best’ place to go.

You may plug and plug at your book, but at the end of the day, most of the people on there, are authors in a similar situation as you are! So, why would any author want to actually buy your book, when they’re trying to sell theirs?

Don’t get me wrong, I’d love to buy each and every one of their books, and if I ever get recognised, I probably will, just to help them out! But I can’t right now, I don’t have a job, I haven’t got a lot of money coming in (literally only £300+ a month, which I’ve been saving as much as I can to buy a car!) and I’m not sure I have an awful lot of time reading while I’m doing everything else anyway.

So, I’ve had to put myself aside and give myself a darn good talking to. Right, Penny, it’s time to go back to the drawing board. And, yes, I’ve come up with a few ideas, one of which, is that I have decided to publish ‘It’s My Mistake’ on Smashwords, so that’s currently going through another review. But so far, that’s been a good idea, I’ve already had one sale on there, it only went up yesterday!

But the other idea is to blog more!

Now, I have been blogging already, on this new and upcoming site called Steemit (I will blog about this a bit more later) where you actually can earn writing on it! I gave it a go after a good friend of mine suggested it, and it’s been good so far. In fact, I’ve earnt a little bit of money on it! (How to cash out on that money is another question! Still trying to work that one out, but it is possible! It’s just cryptocurrencies, I’m a noob!) And it’s also given me motivation to blog more.

At first, when I realised I was getting more people interested in that – well, they would, they get a cashout if they like/comment on a post themselves! I realised, hey, I can just use Steemit!

But, it’s still new, so not everyone knows Steemit! So, I have decided to push a bit more on Word Press, maybe even write posts like I have on Steemit and see where it goes.

So watch this space! I may very well blog about Steemit itself, if you are interested in knowing more about how to earn money writing (I think I’ve earnt nearly $400 worth of Steem Dollars, which is about the same as US dollars, but don’t quote me on that!) I will also be blogging about my books! Maybe even a sneaky chapter or two!

Thanks for reading! Have a lovely weekend everyone!

My First 5-Star Review on Amazon

This is big deal for me, I was starting to feel a little bad about myself (blame the depression and anxiety!) but after pushing through my self-doubts I got my first 5-star review on Amazon today!

I wrote ‘It’s My Mistake’ quickly, it took me, probably less than a month to write. I never actually thought about writing this book until I got a piece of advice from someone a while ago. And that advice was to publish a book online (via Amazon, in e-book format) first.

Although I was scared about publishing ‘Rose Garden Sanatorium’ because I really want to make that the best it can possibly be (I’ve been working on it since January!) and I’ve been working so hard on it, I didn’t want something to go wrong and mess it up.

So ‘It’s My Mistake’ was born! And now I’ve got my first 5-star Amazon Review and the reader asking if there is a sequel!