To cat…

Posted by & filed under Scribbles.

anigif_enhanced-buzz-13520-1371664864-13This is clearly a very cool cat…

He’s thinking out of his box. He thought: Why sit around and cat the whole day? Why not upturn the status quo? It much more fun to do somersaults than to sleep and sleep and sleep.

 

People are like cats sometimes. We sit. We wait. We eat. We sleep. We let time pass us by.

Why? Well, because it’s easy. Because it’s what we know.

We get stuck in a rut…

 

Let us be like this somersaulting kitty. Let us look at the world differently. Let us see the day not as another mountain to scale, but as a chance to start anew. A chance to not cat, but to somersault, to DO something instead of the people around us doing things for us. Let us take the reins in our own hands.

 

 

Willow, Weep No More is published

Posted by & filed under Publishing news.

WWNM_Cover

My fairy tale, Evelyn and the Painted Cave, has been taken up into Tenebris Books’ fairy tale anthology. It contains a collection of fairy tales each paired with an illustration. It is available in cloth-bound hardback as well as various ebook formats.

 

Excerpt from Evelyn and the Painted Cave:

Once upon a time in a small fishing village there lived a woman called Evelyn Dobbs. She lived alone by the sea in a little cottage made of shells, coral and bits of driftwood. One evening she walked outside to look at the ocean she both loved and despised; the crashing of the waves against the rocks was both a curse and a blessing, for within the ebb and flow of the tides lay her most cherished and saddest memories. She pulled a necklace with beads hewn from driftwood and sea glass from her bodice and held it close to her mouth. If someone had looked upon her, it would have seemed as though she was praying.

“I know your name now,” she shouted. “I know your name!”

The waves crashed on the beach in answer to her call.

She had made an oath to wait.

And she had waited. Now she was ready.

 

The book is available for purchase at Amazon or smashwords.

Short story: The Automaton

Posted by & filed under Scribbles.

An oldie, but found it recently on my laptop and wanted to share… (WARNING: A bit gross and gory)

 

‘Some in the Alchemist Society likened me to a young Da Vinci, my reasoning similar to Descartes and my genius to Einstein. The learned men in their smoking jackets considered me a god.

‘Josephine LeBlanc considered me a freak.
Josephine, the most desired woman in all of Paris, daughter of a nobleman father and an opera singer mother. Josephine was graceful, refined and seductive. And I loved her.

‘She was strolling down the Rue de la Barre with fancy parcels from fancy boutiques in her hands. I snuck up behind her and put my handkerchief to her nose, chloroform has worked surprisingly well every time, and her purchases tumbled to the wet cobbled street.’

***

Josephine LeBlanc was tied to a gurney, her wrists and ankles tied down, her naked body covered in lines, etching her skin like a dressmaker’s pattern. The Doctor held a rag soaked in ether to her nose; he didn’t want her to feel any pain.

‘My love, I do hope you are comfortable.’

The Doctor walked to the cabinet where he stored his chemicals and carefully put the dark brown ether bottle back in its place.

‘I am sorry about the restraints, but it is for your own safety.’

With his arms folded behind his back he strode towards Josephine and sat down on a stool beside her. He stroked the side of her face, wiping a loose black curl from her forehead. He bent forward and kissed her neck, her closed eyelids and finally her mouth. He traced the outline of her lips with his gloved fingers and kissed her once more. To Dr Gregor Frederick, she was the most beautiful woman in the world. ‘Let me start, my love.’

In the corner of the room stood Dr Frederick’s masterpiece, the object of the Alchemy Society’s envy. Built from steel plates that were fitted over a skeleton of copper, a life-size replica of Josephine LeBlanc. An automaton. The machine was covered from head to toe with patches of human skin stitched together with surgical precision; a patchwork human quilt. It had human eyes – the irises the same brown as hers, the hair the same shade of black.

At the Doctor’s command the automaton moved over to the gurney ready to assist the surgery. ‘A human being is nothing more than a complex machine, dearest. The bones, the muscles, joints – all can be replaced with steel rods, a few cogs, pistons and belts.’ A smile lingered on his lips as he placed a hand on the automaton’s shoulder.

Beside Dr Frederick stood a tray with an array of shiny metal instruments – scalpels, saws, forceps and chisels in varying sizes.

‘I am sorry that you couldn’t love me, Josephine.’

His scalpel pressed down just below her collarbone, splitting open her ivory skin.
The Automaton moved in closer to staunch the blood flow with a rag.
‘I asked you to marry me, my love, but you refused. Why?’
The scalpel traced the line down her chest with unmatched accuracy. As the Doctor cut, the Automaton wiped away the blood.
‘I gave you my heart.’

He picked up the saw and started hacking through the breastbone. The Automaton inserted a brace to hold the chest cavity open. The Doctor reached into her chest, cutting through layers of tissue: muscle, veins, and arteries. He pulled his hands out and there, pounding feebly in his hands, was the heart of Josephine LeBlanc.

‘Now you have given me yours.’

***
‘Everyone in the Alchemist Society likened me to Da Vinci, my reasoning more advanced than Descartes and my genius surpassing Einstein. The learned men in their smoking jackets called me God.

‘Josephine LeBlanc’s heart would forever beat inside my automaton. Forever would she be mine.’