Friday, February 10, 2012

Run By Claire Halls

Here's the first chapter for you (sorry about the wierd spacing, it's a copy and paste job):
Chapter 1


Fred Davis and I have been watching this house for a couple of hours now. Our other companion, Malcolm O’Leary is sat behind the wheel, his left elbow casually leaning on the cranked down window and his eyes scanning the darkened street in front of the car. His senses alert.

I snap the cuff of one of the latex gloves I’m wearing against my wrist, listening to the sounds of the warm breeze rustling the leaves in the trees and distant sirens that are drifting into the car. Thoughts of Chrissie fill my mind. Her pretty, smiling face, the way her blonde curls fall, her creamy skin. A sigh escapes my lips and Davis turns to look at me.

I check my watch. Miles Joseph left for work about half an hour ago, which means Marie is home alone. We’re clear now, so it’s time to strike. Glancing around the deserted street, I nod at Davis, the signal to step out of the car.

O’Leary stays put as Davis and I cross the street, creeping round to the back door.

Ignoring the tabby cat stalking something I can’t see rustling in the long grass on the back lawn, I shove my elbow through the window in door and the glass shatters noisily.

Startled, both the cat and its prey scatter.

Putting a gloved hand carefully through the opening, I turn the catch and the tumblers fall open.

Davis follows me inside, glass crunching under our feet.

The kitchen is shrouded in darkness and all is quiet, apart from the steady tick tock of the large circular clock on the kitchen wall keeping time and the hum of the refrigerator.

The back door clicks shut behind Davis.

There is no light beyond the kitchen doorway. Creeping into the front hall, I peer into the darkened lounge. This room is also dark and devoid of life.

“Where is she?” Davis whispers in my ear.

I shrug my shoulders and move towards the foot of the stairs, nearly falling over a pair of high heel shoes that have been left strewn across the bottom step.

“Up there!” I hiss to him, spying a faint light upstairs.

I creep up the stairs, closely followed by Davis. A step near the top creaks loudly and there is a noise from one of the rooms upstairs, but my steady pace doesn’t falter.

At the top of the stairs there are several doors in the hallway. The nearest one is open a crack and there is light shining round the door.

I push the door open, but the room is empty.

“There’s nobody here.” I say, turning to look at Davis.

“Well she can’t have gone far.” He comes into the room behind me and points at the open book lying face down on the bed.

I walk over to a pair of large double door on the opposite wall and throw them open.

“Hello Mrs Joseph!” I grin at the terrified woman before me.

She stares at me, her grey eyes wide and fearful and her face a picture of shocked horror.

“W-who are you?” She stutters, her eyes flicking between my face and where Davis is stood over my shoulder. “What d-do you want?”

“It’s time to come out of the closet.” Davis says, now standing close behind me.

Marie’s hands are clutched tightly under her breasts and I notice there is something beneath her hands. She sees me looking and spreads her fingers, trying to keep whatever it is concealed.

“What have you got there?” I question, yanking at her hands.

“Just take what you came for and leave!” Marie cries out.

“I don’t think you need to be calling anybody.” I smile, pushing the disconnect button and handing the cordless phone to Davis. My smile is cold and unfeeling.

“We’re here for you!” Davis whispers to her.

Her expression turns into a mask of pure terror.

“No!” She calls out and backs further into the closet.

“You a party girl, baby?” I question, my eyes surveying her body and a smile on my lips. She is wearing a silky nightgown and it’s kinda sexy.

“Oh I think she is!” Davis grins.

“What do you want with me?” Marie questions.

“You’re coming with us, right now.” Davis says, pointing his gun at her.

I grab her by the arm and lead her towards the bedroom door, my gun tight in her side.

“If you co-operate, maybe we’ll be nice.” I whisper in her ear.

“You’re making a big mistake!” She responds.

We lead her down the stairs and out the back door.

“Ow!” She gasps. “I think I cut my feet.”

“Keep quiet and we won’t bind you up and stick you in the trunk!” I feel a chill run down her arm at this.

“Get in!” Davis whispers to her.

She sits in the back with me and Davis climbs in beside O’Leary.

“What took you two so fucking long?” He demands.

“Where are you taking me?” Marie whispers.

“You’ll find out when we get there.” O’Leary snaps, driving away from her house.

Davis points his gun at Marie, as I wrap some duck tape round her wrists.

“What are you doing?” She gasps.

“It’s a safety precaution.” I smile at her, slicing through the tape and letting the roll fall back underneath Davis’ seat.

“My husband is a police officer.” Marie says her tone hardening. “If you hurt me, you’ll be dead before you can say ‘I want a lawyer.’ The department looks after its own.”

“We know who your husband is.” Davis responds.

“And when we are done with you.” I add, leaning in close and dropping my voice. “We are going to see to it that the only person Officer Joseph talks to is the undertaker.”

Four Days Before Valentine's

So, I have finished writing this story that I have been working on for months and months now. I am confident that it is good and have sent the first three chapters off to a publishing agent. I am now waiting for their reply and hoping it is the one I want. I have been rejected enough times on another story that I know the chances are slim that the answer will be Yes, send the whole thing!
But I remain hopeful.
I strive for perfection in everything I do, which I guess makes me a bit of a freak. I feel confident that this story is as perfect as it's ever going to be, which is really saying something. It's no five minute read either and runs to near on 400 pages A4. So if the agent DOES ask for the whole thing it will cost me a small fortune in ink and paper to run off a copy. But it's a small price to pay for fullfilling an ambition.
It's called Run after the Snow Patrol song and I in fact feature the lyrics. It's supposed to be a kind of (what's the word?) testament to how good the song is. But if I do get published we may need permission from the music company to include the lyrics. I don't really know about that. Cause it's copyrighted material. You couldn't post a video on youtube of the song without permission, so surely the same applies to written word? I guess I'll find out.
The story starts out with this intense scene from a movie cause the main character is an actor. The idea behind this was to hook the reader in and peak some interest from the outset. But seen as dream sequences are frowned upon because it lulls the reader into a false sense that what is happening is real right up to the point the character wakes up, I hope this movie scene is not seen as the same thing. In one of the earlier versions of this story this scene was real cause the character was a criminal, but then things improved.
You know what the hardest part of writing is? Doing the synopsis. I swear it is. I've spent like years writing this bitch and then I have to sum it up well in a single page and I can't do it! But I have to, so I have. I just don't know if it's good. I hope the difference between a yes or no from the agent is not hinged too much on a good synopsis, cause it might not be a good one.
It's no use me whining about this work of art I have written really when you have no clue about it, but it makes me feel better. Lol.

You know what? I still like this guy from work. It's crazy. I've been a volunteer in this office for over a year now and I still feel the same about him as the day I first met him. It's killing me. I am single now and have been for a while. So is he. Mike is gorgeous and he makes it worth going to work. I have become a fixture in that place because I am so good and effecient at the scanning that I do they could not manage without me now. It's a good thing. It's nice to be helpful.
I would like something to happen between Mike and I but I don't hold out much hope. Doesn't stop me feeling the way I do about him though and dreaming. I hope at the very least that he is attracted to me, even if he's not interested in anything happening. Is it possible to feel both of those things?
Maybe I'm just crazy. I've learned to live with things the way they are though. I can handle it.
It's just nice to talk about it. I can't exactly talk to any of the girls at work about this because I don't want it to get around the office. I don't want to be gossiped about. Unless they have already picked up on something and are whispering things behind my back, but I doubt it. Nothing's happening, it's just me liking him.