Well yesterday I sat done and knocked out 900 words towards the ghost stories. I am woefully behind schedule and it is going to be a very close call whether I am ready for the proposed release date I had in mind. If you remember the idea behind this collection was to be able to order some myself as christmas presents but the op and recovery has made this harder than anticipated. but I shall crack on nevertheless I still have a couple of weeks and as all the stories are outlined or in first draft form you never know I may still make it. For now I shall share a teaser with you and post the opening few lines from one of the stories…
The girl dropped to her knees. She reached out to brush her hand against the lush, green grass, then recoiled in anguish. Her hand passed through the blades, a slight tingling sensation all she could feel in her fingertips. She turned her gaze back to the house, the whitewash looked faded,paint flaked slightly round the windows. The lawns and hedges though still tidy, did not quite live up to the exact standards she remembered. It was as though several storms had passed without the careful repairs taking place in between to put everything back as it should be. Out of the corner of her eye she caught sight of the orchard off to the left of the house, apples which should have been picked and stored weeks ago, lay strewn across the grass beneath the trees wasted and decaying. Memories came flooding back to her, she recalled happy times here, not always, that she knew but at this moment it was the laughter that came to her she could almost hear it now as she sat looking at the imposing white building before her. She could almost smell the food the cook had prepared in the kitchen, grand sumptuous meals, not for their consumption. They would wait secretly hoping for left overs to be returned from the dining room even though they knew should this happen cook would be in a foul mood and they would suffer. It had been a hard life but she knew compared to some she had been lucky.
Their mistress was not kind but neither was she particularly harsh rather she treat her servants and slaves the same way one would treat unruly children, the master left those who worked in the house to his wifes control something she was grateful for if the stories she heard whispered in the slave quarters were true. She doubted the master or even the mistress knew anything more of her existence than they knew of the chickens in the yard, she had be taught to be invisible that those who provided her daily bread should never have to look upon her face and that if they ever had reason to she would be lucky if she lived to regret it. She shuddered as she thought of the warnings the cook had given her and the other young girls who worked in the kitchen and yard, she had always done her best to obey, to be a good girl.
So what do you think?