L.A. Millett's Blog, page 6

Verdorso

             Chapter One – The Escape

“Women do not make their own choices in this world. Every woman needs a good marriage to succeed in life.”

Then this was not the world for Nataleena. She needed to be free. Not caged and sold when it suited them. They were the people who controlled everything Nataleena did. Always isolating her from the world. Nataleena questioned why she knew so little of the outside world. She could not thrive to become the woman her mother always intended. Instead, a nodding placid pup sat obediently waiting for the next command. Nataleena knew no different. Knowing nothing of the world that stood outside the confines of an icy house. It was matched well to her father, Simon. He was a cold man, often leaving the blame for his indifferent nature to the death of Nataleena’s mother. The only warmth Nataleena found was from her fire.

Simon continued his long speech in hope Nataleena was listening. She was never listening.

“Is that understood?”

A meek smile released her from the torturous lecture. Opening the door, he watched as Nataleena left the study for her own bedroom. Not realising that this would be the last time he watched his daughter happily run from him. It did not take Nataleena long to run from the study to the safety of her room. As a tear dripped down her cheek, Nataleena poured water over her fire. She knew it was time to pack up as the bricks of the fireplace cooled.

With no plan firmly in mind, few possessions were tucked inside Nataleena’s small bag. A picture of her mother and a necklace that lovingly held her mother’s wedding ring. They were the only essentials. No other items held any real value to her. Nataleena only needed one more thing, a small bag of coins hidden behind a fireplace brick. Minutes began to feel like hours until an hour had passed by easily. She removed the coins from the wall and dropped them into her bag.

All Nataleena had to do now was wait. Wait for the last of the maids to scramble into their beds.

Hearing the lock from Trudy’s door click firmly in place confirmed it was now safe to leave. Gently, the door was opened and Nataleena slipped out. Down the spiralling staircase, Nataleena remembered not to step on the second to last step. It would creak so loudly, even the noise of the day could not mute it. With the stairs conquered, the door was in sight. Almost running, her feet skimmed over the wooden floor.

She made it to the front door, and slipped away. Nataleena was free at last but knew there was one small hurdle before freedom was complete. The Bramblebee Forest.

Once she had got through the forest it was a short walk to the Shrewshore Boat Crossings. Then onto the next village of Millford.

First, The Bramblebee Forest. Nataleena looked to the Northern Star and continued to follow it in hope what Trudy told her was true. Trudy was the head of the house maids working in Nataleena’s home. When Nataleena was just a child; Trudy told her if she was ever lost in the forest and needed to get out, follow the Northern Star and it will take her to the edge of the forest to where the boat crossings are. She could never understand why Trudy would tell her how to escape. Where would she go? The way Nataleena knew of the world was through the books found in her father’s study.

 

A small extract taken from The Keepers of Verdorso: A Finding of Kin. Expected date of release 18th August 2018.

Swan Lake

They settled in a small cottage with a lake at the back.

Every morning the children would wake up ecstatic to feed the animals down at the lake. A variety of ducks, geese, and swans swooned over once they saw the ample amount of food.

Standing at the back door with a coffee in hand, she watched as her children ran in glee. Then, they sat peacefully at the lakeside whilst the animals went about their normal day.

This became the morning routine until the plump young skin watching her children faded. The marks of a good life with laughter rippled like the water.

Young children were now growing into adults. Still, nostalgia and routine kept the animals at the lake well fed.

Soon, the old cottage heard the scramblings of youth once more as grandchildren ran to the lake, ready to see what nature had to offer. A family united by swans.

When the swans left, the winter arrived. The summer plants died whilst the winter animals thrived.

Three generations watched as the children fed the wildlife until the water froze over. It was only when the lake had thawed did they realise it was only two generations that watched  over the swans of the lake.

Short story inspired by this beautiful piece of art by S.J. Dickson. 

Very proud daughter!

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Scarborough Fair

He asked me if I was going to Scarborough Fair. I always do. So, the question confused me until a letter was placed into my hand. I turned to ask him where I would find Madame Verde but he was gone.

Shoving the letter into a spare pocket, I found myself dazzled by the fair. Amongst the fire eaters and strongest man, was a green tent. Above it etched in gold writing ‘Madame Verde’. She smiled as I entered with the letter. Asking me to describe the man who gave this to me. I couldn’t stop staring. Her hood covered her eyes only revealing her lips. She nudged me to continue. I told her he was lightly built, short brown hair and a tan from working in the summer. Madame Verde wanted to know the colour of his eyes. Green.

She opened the letter to find a single word scribbled… yes. Looking at her mouth, I asked what it said.

It was a consent letter. Your eyes and soul for whatever your heart desired, brought by the next victim.

 

I’m happy to see there are people enjoying the short stories and flash fiction! 

The Five Year Losing Streak will be free from tomorrow in a free promotion!

Enjoy your Saturday! 

The Five Year Losing Streak

Chapter One – Popcorn

It was just how every girl imagined their wedding day.

The summer had come to an end and autumn had let its first leaf fall to the ground. Perfect for a rural country wedding. The mixture of soft grass and dried out orange leaves created a beautiful aisle. Friends and family gathered either side on the pumpkin lines on fitting straw seats. My outdoor wedding was illuminated by the settling pink clouds cascaded across the ever-dimming sky.

Gently, a hand was placed upon my own. Sharp blue eyes gleamed with pride. Finally, his daughter was to be married. My father tucked my arm inside his as the wooden doors opened for me to walk down the aisle.

I took a deep breath and walked in time to my music. Looking on, Ben waiting for me as the last ray of sun hit his freckled skin. I began to smile as he allowed tears to fall down his face. Honesty, this was the reaction that every woman dreamed of.

Standing in a white lace dress, the place was silent as our vows were read. Sniffles and smalls cries could be heard as I described Ben as my best friend and soulmate and he told me I was the only woman he would ever love.

“Bethany Juliette Bennet, do you take Benjamin Franklin Suarez to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

“I do.”

“And do you Benjamin Franklin Suarez take Bethany Juliette Bennet to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

“I can’t.”

What, the actual fuck.

 

This small extract has been taken from The Five Year Losing Streak that is now available on Amazon! An entry into the Kindle Storyteller UK 2018 competition. Goodluck to everyone taking part! I can’t wait to read your stories!  

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Flesh and Revolution

In the years that would follow, many would say I sold my soul.

A corpse can survive without a soul but it needs food. I needed food. At first, it was easy to sell my body. It provided me with a meal, wine and most nights a place to stay.

Inside the warm homes, no one would question why I was there. Not even their wives. Why would they? They knew what was now needed to live another day. Many had been in the same position.

Soon, once the money was dwindling, a meal and a place to stay was the only payment you could expect. Better than starving on the streets in the harsh winter storms.

It wasn’t long before the fine wine and good meats had been diminished, but we had hope.

Hope that revolution was upon us. Hope that the killing would stop. Hope that brothers and sisters would fight no more. Hope to rise against the dictator that kept us oppressed. Hope, does not feed you. Starvation ripped through the country worse than any infection before.

The only thing that kept us alive was the cheap vodka made in basements. The same cheap vodka that was now my only payment.

The harsh alcohol clawed through my body, making me weak. A skeleton was all that remained now.

Desperate to sell any part of me just to eat, I accepted an offer from a doctor.

He took me into his warm house. Still finely decorated, the revolution had not stripped him of wealth. Walking through to the elegant dining room, he led me to a chair.

Strapping my arms and legs down, the doctor began preparing our meal.

Slice by slice he removed wafer thin, seared skin.

Slightly roasting it before placing one slice in front of me and another to face him.

I finally ate that night and found my eternal warm home.

The Fifth Element

“This is your necklace. It was once mine, given to me by my mother. The cool blue stone set in silver is to remind you of the moon and ocean. Return to the water for clarity. Ask the moon for its knowledge. This necklace is blessed by fire, earth, water and air. You are the fifth element. When you wear it, always know you are part of a wider family. Not all members you’ll ever know but all members will help. You only need to ask. Set it upon your neck with pride, it will guide you. Your body is water and your mind free like air. One day you will return to the earth as it welcomes you back, but your fire will always remain.”

When my great-grandfather died he left my brother his war medals. A few years later my great-grandmother passed away, on my 16th birthday, leaving me this letter and necklace. I was the second of two boys so naturally my mother had always wanted a girl. Spending my time tucked into the female nook of the family. While my brother relished in the masculine sports of hunting and tormenting me. I was by no means unable to protect myself against them, I just always thought it to be a waste of time. They enjoyed hunting animals as much as I enjoyed nursing them back to health. We had nothing in common except the love for our family.

The funeral day arrived so quickly. We all got to say goodbye to her one last time before travelling to my house for the wake.

Pulling me into a spare room my grandmother watched as I unfolded the letter, letting the jewel inside slip into my hand. Patiently my grandmother waited for me to finish reading.

“Henrietta never took that off. I know she waited many years to see you wear it.” My grandmother always had a way to warm you even with the smallest of smiles.

“I’ll keep it with me all the time.” I was sixteen and already a bit odd, I didn’t need any more reasons for my dad and brother to give me a hard time.

“I always wanted to wear it, so did my four brothers. Tumus, you can wear it and hide it under your shirt, just promise me you’ll put it on, please?” It was only recently I was beginning to see how fragile my, once strong grandmother, was becoming. I couldn’t upset her. Opening the clasp, I let the cold silver mark my neck, meekly smiling back at her.

“There, nana would have been proud. She also left you this book. It never left her side even when she was in hospital. It is yours now.”

Standing up she dropped the book into my hand and left. Blue with paisley silver etchings. The words Elements and Their Nature scribbled on the front. Every page smelt like jasmine, just like her. Unlike Henrietta the pages were fragile. Turning them was too risky.

Taken from the first page of The Fifth Element, something I’m currently working on.

The Benevolent

It’s not all a coincidence who is chosen. Who becomes powerful like them and who lives in the gutters like us.

In 2021 Kevin Alma figured it all out. The Queens, their politicians, they were all part of the same family, The Benevolent. Strangely, four months after his findings, that’s when Alma was found dead. He was 37 years old, but the report stated death by natural causes, heart failure. He had no previous heart complications.

Swiftly after that, the internet was screened daily by the government. They needed more workers. Then the internet became a privilege. The entire world was engulfed in protecting the secrets of the Benevolent children. If you were not part of protecting the lies you were against them. Shanty towns and food rations for those who couldn’t or wouldn’t support government control.

Let me brief you about how The Benevolent family monopolised power, if I may. Kevin Alma wrote how in 1800 the world was in turmoil, the gap between rich and poor was severe. People beginning to turn against each other, and those amassing great amounts of wealth. At the top of the rich list was one family. The Benevolent kin had already spread worldwide. All members held high positions, with their name beginning to be splashed across the media they needed a way of hiding their family name and wealth.

So, the third daughter of each family unit was married to a man of no relation to the family. The first child would be placed with a childless, poverty-stricken family.

As Alma wrote, ‘poverty was a crucial part of selection’. It created the notion of self-made. Of course, the money had always been there. Just like any military operation, every part of that child’s life was organised and planned. Micromanaged until they could claim their inheritance and place in life.

Children that showed any remarkable talents in the arts, literature, art or music were given similar circumstances. They would be indoctrinated into the way of Benevolent. Allowed to pursue their dreams, with a price. Their marriages would profit the family. Matched to the next business investment. Always destined for heartbreak and multiple divorces.

You may have known Kevin Alma. He excelled in anything literary. From his early beginnings of writing short stories. Right up to his debut fantasy novel, The Fifth Element. Alma was in his prime when he made his discovery.

There was just one thing that didn’t make sense. His family.

Years before his 2021 revelation Kevin did some research about his own heritage. We all know his story of how he wrote an entire collection of stories on the back of debt collection letters. The only paper they could afford. We never knew he was adopted, something that was silently kept. However, the adoption was never mentioned to him. In fact, there was no paperwork at all about it. He took samples from his parents as they slept. DNA didn’t match. An odd way to find out that your parents and doctors had lied.

The book catapulted him to new levels of fame. Talk shows, interviews and even a meeting with the Queen. He spoke of how his next work would be his finest to date. Small extracts could be found online. Of course, mentioned in the back of his 2021 discovery was the next book he was working on.

Kevin Alma: The Benevolent and me.

The Heart of The Ocean.

Icy winds pierced my lungs as the sound of passengers screeching filled the night. A paradox, an unsinkable ship, sinking fast.

Somehow, courage surged through our bodies as the first note sighed into the chaos. A calming melody flourished as women and children scrambled into the last of the life boats.

There were those, who unashamedly, took lost screaming children and claimed them as their own. Granting them a life line.

Once the life boats had gone we held onto anything. Our instruments, our hopes, perhaps something more solid would be needed.

To die engulfed by the sound of your instrument was the only way I could accept my fate.

The water might freeze my body. Falling debris could kill me.

Nevertheless, the outcome would be the same. So, we bravely played out one last time, with honour and privilege, as the water sang us into a new symphony.

If They Knock, Don’t Answer.

Levi was staring up at me shaking his tail. Evidently, the hour long walk in the fallen leaves was not enough for him. Nor was gaining an extra coat of mud in the field.

“Fine,” I huffed at him. Slipping through into the kitchen I fiddled with the outside light. I should have got it fixed months ago, but the flickering light was enough for Levi’s nightly escapades. I opened the back door and let him out.

“Go on,” ushering him out, he stopped on the first stone slab.

His bark made me jump.

The doorbell ringing made Levi lose his concentration. The new mission was the front door.

“I have snacks!” Jess greeted me as all worthwhile friends do, with food and an ear to listen.

Our evening of snacks, stories and strong wine was going to plan but something was still unsettling Levi’s usually placid nature. The constant low grumbling coming from Levi stopped once Jess stood up. Opening the living room, he darted out coming to a sliding stop at the back-garden door.

“I think he must need to go out, I’ll grab another bottle of wine while I’m up.” I said.

“It’s ok. I need to use the toilet anyway, I’ll let him out. Be back in a second!”

I heard the door open but not close. Just assuming Jess was waiting for Levi to come back in, I sipped my wine waiting. Waiting was becoming the new game.

Ten minutes past before a breaking sound mixed with the door slamming startled me into getting up.

A near miss with a broken bottle made me stare at the door. It was closed. The light was off. Only the outside light was still flickering. Carefully stepping over the glass I made it to the back door. It was closed. The flickering light illuminated the empty garden before going out. I locked the door turning away to try and find my lost dog, and friend.

Something made me turn back.

I glanced out into the garden once more.

The light flickered on.

I could see something getting closer to the door.

A tall figure stopped. Standing still, behind me.

Late Night Writing.

So, it’s the perfect day to spend inside where it is warm, dry and food is readily available. Potter and pizza seems like the winning combination. What film to watch is the question! Do I start at the beginning once more or watch Deathly Hallows part 2?

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Until the crucial decision has been made, I’ll continue with my writing!

Now, I’m curious to know, other than being a night owl, does the cold, wet weather inspire you to write? Or is it the hot rays of the sun that lights up the creativity box?

For me writing in the winter comes easier. As much as I love the summer, I’ve always felt that the cold forces you to feel every aspect of your senses; in the same way the quietness of the night allows you to think.

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This was my night Friday and Saturday night. I know, what a wild life I live! I love it though. These three A4 and one A5 notepads contain everything about Verdorso I have ever created. Including a a dictionary for the languages. Looking closely at the picture you can see that the A5 notepad has a LOT of scribbled out words. This was over two years ago when I first tried to think of a name. Originally it had been, ‘The Fifth Element’, but that didn’t work. Then I changed it to The Keepers of Verdorso, followed by ‘A Story Begins’ and ‘The Meeting of Kin’. None quite fitted the story as much as ‘A Finding of Kin’.

The next in the series will be ‘A Traitor Returns’, which so far has been a pleasure to write. Often I find when I have finished a plan for the plots, and begin writing ideas to be used in the next book in the series pops into my mind, hence why the next plans for Verdorso have already been developed, ‘The Battle for Verdorso’. Unfortunately/fortunately, whatever way you look at it, three isn’t the magic number for Verdorso. Five is. I feel that ‘A Finding of Kin’ merely sets the scene for Verdorso. Introduces you to the first parts of Verdorso. You discover and learn the ancient history of the lands, just as Nataleena learns about them for the first time. A journey together.

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What started as an idea quickly written on scrap paper became the basis of a new language. The language that is spoken in Verdorso is Grenograck, the Earth Kin’s language. However, each kin has their own mother tongue which at times they use. Now, with thirteen central characters finding ways to highlight their role is essential. This is Inpa’s song, Inpa is Earth Kin from Grenchav. Inpa is a very strong character, a beautiful woman, inside and out. A heart filled with sorrow but radiates nothing but love. A woman who becomes like an aunt to Nataleena.

Writing down a sort of dictionary has become central to my work for Verdorso. I may have created the language but it’s still a learning process for me as well!

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Of course, pronunciation is also key!

Something that I started working on for ‘The Battle for Verdorso’ and on through the later parts of the series was something the laws and guidance of Verdorso. I wanted them to feel more like moral guidance than punishing laws. If we remember historically people have been punished for who they love, the colour of their skin and standing up to an outdated system. Just because something sits in a book of law doesn’t make it morally right.

I’m keen to know, what are your writing habits? Any particular time you write? Anything that stops you from writing?

Enjoy your Sunday!

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