Plot Changes in Novel Writing #Realise (SW#28)

Heyo Bookaholics!

Sometimes the story plans itself!

Realise. If you follow me on social media, you would have seen me hashtag that word in my stories, and sometimes in photo captions. In case you don’t, Realise is the name of the novel that I am writing! You can read more about the story’s origin in various Nanowrimo-themed posts on this blog as linked below:

  • Nanowrimo 2018 – In which I talk about Nano 2018, why I chose to write this story, where the idea for Realise came from, and some Pinterest inspo for the novel!
  • Nanowrimo Update – The first and only Nano update, where I unleash more secrets about the three main characters, and an updated Pinterest board!

Now that you’re all caught up, let’s move on to the real issue here, and the reason why I never finished Nanowrimo last year.

My character is actually being the sh*t that I said she would be…

In other words, I could never figure out her motive in the novel AND keep the original storyline that I wanted.

Well, not it seems that I have. Partially. There is still more work to be done, but after planning out all 23 potential chapters of this bad boi, and filling various pages of my new notebook – which was once an old notebook with all the used pages ripped out – dedicated specifically for Realise, I have come to some sort of peace with what is happening.

A sort of peace.

Sort of.

From other writers that I follow on social media, it seems as if their characters have a mind of their own and don’t like to listen to the plot, creating their own and ultimately making the story still awesome! Jaz (my main protagonist) is doing the exact opposite. She is using that mind of her own to steer the story in a- well there is no direction, that’s where I had to use my brain.

Planning may actually be important. Who knew?

I thought that the basic 24 chapters worth of heartfelt rubbish I had pulled from my 2014 published works on Wattpad would be enough of a plan to carry the novel. Oh, how wrong I was. It wasn’t until a few failed attempts to move the story along, and finally reaching chapter 10 that it hit me.

What makes my novel unique?

None of my characters is LGBT+, they aren’t in space, or going after the Faerie king to retrieve a very dangerous book on dark magic. These humans are literally just every day – mostly insecure – people in a very average situation, living the most hetero lives they can.

So how am I relevant to today’s YA crowd?

I don’t want to make the decision to change the sexual orientation or romantic preference of one of my characters for the sake of relevance because then it defeats the whole purpose, and I do remember Jes Layton said something wonderful on this topic at an event she was speaking at. She said something along the lines, that when she writes a story, the main character will be more than their sexuality. Much like her short story in the Underdog anthology, where the character is non-binary, but that wasn’t anything to do with the decisions they made that drove the plot.

Now I’m still stuck.

With relevance still being the forefront of my mind, but appropriate representation also screaming at me, the next thing I thought about was myself. Not sure if you see where I am going here.

Us as humans go through a lot in our lives, and as a woman writing an average ass female protagonist who is already an insecure shh*t-head, it is really easy to slip some anecdotal moments in there. To add depth to Jaz – the protagonist – and give her more character, I walked down the path of own voices. I decided to put her through councilling and gift her with some mental health battles. Although, where all these mental health dilemmas are cool and well in a contemporary, something I do not want for my character is for her to be “fixed” at the end of the novel, because

this isn’t a fairytale, this is true life.

The only thing I haven’t been able to-

OH SHEIT! I just got it!

I was going to segue into motives but it seems like my train of thought just collided with it. I’m writing this dang post in hopes of finding Jaz’s motives for the entire plot of Realise. Here I am talking on about anecdotes and unruly characters when the only thing unruly is my memory. I just needed to collect all of thoughts and bingo! Motives are solved!

The missing piece of my puzzle – motives – is what that separates Jaz’s experiences from my own. It is an event that I cannot pull an anecdote for, but I may just be able to use aspects of some stories of mine, mould them the right way, and create the perfect piece for my puzzle.

Question: Motives? Answer: More conflict.

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR HELPING,

and letting me ramble to you. This has helped me plan my story out, finally come to a loving comfortable state of mind, and let out that toxic air that was clogging up my lungs. I legit can breathe clearer. No joke! If you ever need to sort something out, talk it out, and when that doesn’t work, ramble to your audience and you will be rewarded.

I do promise that once I have an established synopsis for this novel I will discuss it here exclusively on Jasper + Spice. You’ll receive the elevator pitch and full character cast. I’m so happy with how it is all coming together, as well as the crazy progress I made on this post.

Here are some well deserved Pinterest inspo photos for Realise:

2

Are you writing anything?

Do you plan your story before or during the writing process? xxx

Leave your opinions in the comments or alternatively on my social media channels!
Instagram // Goodreads // Twitter // YouTube

 .

1

With Love Bree xx

wednesday-post-ending.png

I'm a Book Depository Affiliate! Get Free Shipping on ALL BOOKS Everywhere!
 
© Jasper+Spice 2018. All Rights Reserved. Please do not use without my permission. This post was not sponsored, all photos and graphics are of my own creation.
Advertisements

Superstitions – Poem (SW#27)

Heyo Bookaholics!

I needed to get this off of my chest!

It’s true, all of it.

I have so many necklaces.

I never used to care much about which one I wore,
they all mean something to me anyway.

The ones my boyfriend bought me,
or the few I received on my various birthdays
and that thing I bought online too;
all tying to memories,
like a ball on a string
I can use to pull the memories up.

I never really cared about which one I wore,
until my accident.
Then there were ones that brought bad luck,
one that I wouldn’t leave home without,
and one I refuse to wear again.

You’d think it’d make sense really,
since the pendant falls so close to your heart,
it’s like something is there
that can change your fate.
Maybe there is some energy flowing from the middle bead,
or running down the spiral charm
on its way to your heart.

That’s not how I see it though.
I never understood energies,
just feelings.

It was just easier to visualise that way.
Energies are funny.
Feelings are easier to identify,
but not to understand.

I wore a different necklace today,
for the first time in months.
It felt strange.

Wrong.

I didn’t know it was there really,
but if I reflect back,
the crushing anxiety,
lack of breath,
loss of motivation, and
how mentally drained I became…

It really makes sense don’t you think?

2

Leave your opinions in the comments or alternatively on my social media channels!
Instagram // Goodreads // Twitter // YouTube

 .

1

With Love Bree xx

wednesday-post-ending.png

I'm a Book Depository Affiliate! Get Free Shipping on ALL BOOKS Everywhere!
 
© Jasper+Spice 2018. All Rights Reserved. Please do not use without my permission. This post was not sponsored, all photos and graphics are of my own creation.

Cute OTP Story Prompts (SW#26)

Heyo Bookaholics!

Beating the Writer’s Block!

Inspired by tumblr text posts that are seen all over social networking sites and usually appear unwarranted and when you least expect them. They’re always so cute, angsty, and just overall adorable figments of the writer’s imagination.

I know that reading other people’s OTP story prompts has helped me clear my writer’s block and inspired me to write, so I hope that my little mismatched ideas do the same.

Feel free to use these as story prompts or one-shot ideas, maybe even make them into a story of your own! Please credit me if you do and pretty please link me to your story because I’d love to read it 🙂

CUTE STORY PROMPTS!

* Person A is lying on their back on the bed, holding the phone up to the ceiling and ignoring the pain in their arms. ‘Say Yes To The Dress’ is playing on the screen. Person B is standing at the foot of the bed, out of sight, twirling a ring between their fingers teeth clenched and shoulders tense. “Hey.” Person B scares Person A into dropping the phone onto their nose. “I have a question.” Person A sits up, concerned by the shake in their lover’s voice. B takes a deep breath; “Do you want to pick out a dress too?” “I’m more of a suit kinda person.” A laughs out a reply, which dies out as they watch Person B drop to their knee holding up a simple gold ring with small markings around it.

* Person A bites their fingernails and this bothers Person B, so Person B offers to paint Person A’s nails. They take two hours trying to make it perfect, doing nail art, gradients, watching YouTube videos; yet the nails turn out so so ugly! Person A is so overwhelmed by love and promises to keep the painting in perfect condition for as long as possible, layering on excessive clear coat polish to seal off the artwork. Person A forces themselves to stop nail biting and keeps the polish on for weeks until it begins to crack, and peel, but Person B repaints them.

* Person B hurries out of the rain and into their house to find Person A wrapped in a blanket lying on the couch. Person B creeps up alongside the couch and crawl on top, wrapping their arms around their significant other. The two lie there all night, finally rising when they cannot discern their stomach rumbles from the storm outside.

* Person A is staring lazily into the oven, watching their cake rise and Person B comes up behind, scaring Person A into turning around and thrusting a bunch of wild Daisies in their face. The tiny flowers held ridiculously between Person B’s thumb and forefinger.

* Person B wakes up to Person A tapping their face lightly and singing along to the rhythm alternatively Person B wakes up to Person A softly running a make-up brush up and down their face.

* Person A and B are standing side-by-side brushing their teeth in front of the mirror. That’s it.

* Person A is throwing pillows around the bedroom, mad about something. Person B can hear the noise from the kitchen and goes about lighting all the candles in the vicinity, opening a packet of chips and turning on Harry Potter, listening as Person A makes a different noise: feet pattering across the hallway.

Did you enjoy these? This is my first attempt at this and now my brain is fried. Goodnight xx
2

If you happen to use any of these ideas, please give me credit xxx

Leave your opinions in the comments or alternatively on my social media channels!
Instagram // Goodreads // Twitter // YouTube

 .

1

With Love Bree xx

wednesday-post-ending.png

I'm a Book Depository Affiliate! Get Free Shipping on ALL BOOKS Everywhere!
 
© Jasper+Spice 2018. All Rights Reserved. Please do not use without my permission. This post was not sponsored, all photos and graphics are of my own creation.

A Woman’s Poem (SW#25)

Heyo Bookaholics!

Another poem time!

I read a book about strong women. I reviewed a book about strong women. Click the link to read the review for Watch Us Rise by Renée Watson and Ellen Hagan, the story that inspired this poem.

I Read a Book Today
I read a book today that tore out my heart.

I read a book today that ticked my sides.
I read a book today that opened my eyes.
I read a book today that made me want to speak up.
The book I read today was about women.

I read a book today that made me cry. 
The book I read gave me hope.
It was about love 
of a different kind
A sweeter kind,
a kinder kind.

It was aggravating,
bone shaking,
protest making!

I want to speak out
and speak up.
Scream out and stand up
for what is right,
turn down what is wrong.

The book I read taught me how to stand up
and what to stand up for.
It gave my passion a spark, 
my writing a new voice
a new way to speak.

I read a book today from two amazing women.
These women gave me articulated insight
into a scary,
hate-filled world with a 
reason to fight harder
stronger, without 
Violence.

I read a book today that made me feel everything
and
left me with a valuable message.

I read a book today that all women should read.
A story men need to understand
In a world where this,
the moral of the story
is the real world problem and 
Not fiction.
Not fantasy.
Real problems with real solutions.

The book I read today inspired me.

I wrote this poem after I’d finished reading Watch Us Rise. That book shook me in a way that no other book has done before. Pick it up, read it. Stand up for what you believe in and like this post if you like this poem x

2

What did you think? xx

Leave your opinions in the comments or alternatively on my social media channels!
Instagram // Goodreads // Twitter // YouTube

 .

1

With Love Bree xx

wednesday-post-ending.png

I'm a Book Depository Affiliate! Get Free Shipping on ALL BOOKS Everywhere!
 
© Jasper+Spice 2018. All Rights Reserved. Please do not use without my permission. This post was not sponsored, all photos and graphics are of my own creation.

It’s A Novel Race!

Heyo Bookaholics!

I started another project! *sigh*

So, there’s this thing that happens where I get an amazing idea; get hung up on that idea, and kinda have to roll with it. For some reason, I cannot stick to one task at a time and I end up taking on multiple projects – writing and the like – at the same time. Since I am also horrible with keeping up with “Blog Series'” or remembering to update anything ever (see my inconsistent posting on Instagram) so I won’t be calling this a blog series in the way people would,

BUTT

It’s a blog series.

How It Came About…

A good friend of mine and I have challenged each other to write a full completed novel in a six-month time frame – the length of our industry placements. Both novels are to stem from the same prompt, but have a different premise! We will be doing while completing a full-time work placement.

Who is my friend and why haven’t you heard of him??

It’s true, I speak about my friends constantly – well, mostly Tracy @trufflereads – but I’ve never spoken of this friend before, despite having spent every day for of the six-week summer semester together.

Does he write?

He has told me that he has only ever tried writing a story once in his life; though I don’t let that fool me. He is an amazing storyteller! As the DM (Dungeon Master) of two separate Dungeons and Dragons games, he has to have a keen eye for detail, and the ability to visualise and create original settings and characters, along with the ability to come up with various stories and wacky premises.

So What’s The Story Idea??

This challenge came about after viewing this post I sent him from Pinterest:

Honestly, it’s such a silly meme, but due to our collective lack of sleeps (yes, sleeps. plural) and the fact that we were both working on audit and taxation homework over the summer semester period, our brains were pretty fried.

We started feeling sorry for death.

And that’s how our stories came about.

My Idea/ Summary: Depressed death can’t take it anymore is on the edge but can’t die until some cute boi in white is like I’ll take ur job for a bit if you don’t let me die and death thinks this boi is hella cute (and hella tan, with those pretty brown eyes and goofy self-assured smile, and relaxed shrug) and Death doesn’t know why anyone would want this job, let alone a motal who looks like he hcan have the world at his feet, but death is hella sad and says yes Fuck it imma go on vacay and gives all his responsibilities over, goes on vacay for like a day and then says Fuck I can’t subject some poor pretty boi in white to what u had to go through so he tracks down obituaries and stuff coz he kinda lost his death tracking power after handing it over and like after tracking down dying people and sitting by their bedside who just won’t Fkn die, he decides to murder someone which brings new boi death to him and he’s like OMG you’re so sexy can I plz have my job back and dude is all like you didn’t even have a vacay and I love this gig. But death is all like please you won’t die because I love you and god is like SMITE you can’t love and be death Fkn choose so yeah I haven’t gotten past that yet.Also death realises why the boy wants his job and he is hella sad for him and well of course when it looks like one can have the world, their mind is holding them hostage and he too is hella sad and just wanted to make someone else happy if he couldn’t be.

This is the OG initial message I sent my friend when the discussion started. I am currently planning out the story out in tabular form and have reached chapter 6 already. Planning in this manner is the best thing I have done. The table layout I am using is as follows:

You can download a template for planning a novel by clicking on the document link: Book Writing Layout_ Plan

Holy Sheit! So I just read over that poor excuse for a paragraph for what feels like the first time in a month and I have totally deviated from it whilst writing my official plan. Not that I’m mad tho.

The plan I am currently writing has deviated greatly from the little paragraph above, but I’m happy with it. I like being able to compare my very first idea of the story with the plan, and then the first draft when I actually write it. It’s all to do with the flow of the novel and if the story I want to be written flows as a written story.

So that’s my new project all laid bare and exposed. I hope you enjoyed that, and with my planning, you should expect to see more updates on the Wednesdays to come! Let’s hope I can complete the first draft by July but knowing my track record, I’m not promising anything grand.

2

Would you like to see more PDF documents/ layouts included in my posts?

Tell me down in the comments below! xxx

Leave your opinions in the comments or alternatively on my social media channels!
Instagram // Goodreads // Twitter // YouTube

 .

1

With Love Bree xx

I'm a Book Depository Affiliate! Get Free Shipping on ALL BOOKS Everywhere!
 
© Jasper+Spice 2018. All Rights Reserved. Please do not use without my permission. This post was not sponsored, all photos and graphics are of my own creation. Graphic image: Canva.com

Choosing A TBR (Short Story) StoryTime Wednesday #24

Heyo Bookaholics!

Storytime Wednesday Is Back!

“If I hadn’t gone and purchased another five books, maybe choosing my TBR for this month wouldn’t be so hard.” Lilly’s exasperated sigh reached the phone, and a laugh was played back.

“You know Lil.” Rachel’s voice was muffled from the speaker being smooshed into the blanket of Lilly’s bed. “I think this book thing is crazy, but maybe a little logic can help you.” Lilly nudged the phone a little to clear the speaker.

“Huh?” Yeah right, like that was a good idea. If Lilly was ‘logical’ then she may have not purchased the books she really desired yesterday.

“Well don’t you receive advanced copies from publishers? What are the called AKS?”

“Yeah I do; and it’s ARC, like ‘ay-arrr-cee’ and not AKS.” Rachel laughed at that, the sound crackling through the room.

“Oh man, the playback from your phone is annoying! Put headphones on woman,” Rachel called out. Lilly winced slightly and turned away from her bookshelves to turn the volume down on her phone.

“Better?” She asked.

“Yeah. Much better. So what books have you received from publishers recently? Let’s start with those.” A rustling sound was made on Rachel’s end as she made herself comfortable for the book talk. Lilly smiled at Rachel being interested in her passions.

“Well. Are you sure you want to listen to this?” Lilly decided to give her an out. Rachel is the kindest soul she knows but is 100% not personally into books, choosing to go crazy over clothes and make-up.

“Oh shush you! Of course, I want to listen to you go crazy over books, or I wouldn’t have asked. Now tell me about the new ones,” she demanded teasingly. The smile on her face making it through the phone to Lilly who reciprocated it.

“I have two that come out early February, and one that was released in late January.” Lilly pulled three books from the shelf. A pink one with two girls on the cover, a holographic one, and a blue one with a person of colour on the cover. “I can’t choose which one to read first!”

“List them off for me.” A rustling sound came from the phone, then a pen click. Lilly smiled and hoisted the novels up in her arms standing before the phone like a performer on stage before an act.

“First up we have Watch Us Rise by Reneé Watson and Ellen Hagan; next is A Curse So Dark And Lonely by Brigid Kemmerer; and lastly I have What Momma Left Me also by Reneé Watson. The last one is the shortest novel of the three.” Lilly finished her speech still standing, her mind no clearer now than it was before speaking the titles.

“They all sound amazing! There you have it. That’s your February TBR. Don’t put too many on the list, you’re a busy woman.”

“Agh thank you! I’ll send you a photo,” Lilly spoke over Rachel’s last words and made a frantic grab for her phone, loudly tapping out a message.

She sent the following photo which can be found on her Instagram (@thebookishbree 😉

“Oh my gosh! These books are awesome!” Rachel loves aesthetics more than she loves books. “Okay, so which book was released first?” Scratching of pen on paper sounded through the phone like some ASMR video.

“Well,-“ Lilly rifled through the pages of all three novels. “Okay so, A Curse So Dark and Lonely was released late January, What Momma Left Me is first for the month of Feb, then Watch Us Rise.” She pouted her lips thoughtfully, arranging the books onto her side-table for easy access.

“Since that Curse book came out in January, I think you can put it on hold till later right?”

“Yeah, I agree. Maybe I should read What Momma Left Me first.”

“That’s a good plan. Didn’t you say it was the smallest too?” The scratching of pen on paper through the speaker made an appearance again.

“It is! I’m so excited to read it!” Lilly’s voice pitched a little at the end. and she hugged the book in question to her chest, giddy. “I think it should be first.”

“I think so too. What are you waiting for woman!” Pages rustled, the notebook shut and Rachel’s pen clicked a final time. “Get reading Lilly, you wonder-filled child.” Lilly didn’t need to be told twice.

“Thank you so much I actually love you, Rachel! Have fun journalling and doing your Rachel things!” Lilly signs out this way fairly often, but it still made Rachel giggle happily.

“You’re welcome, my Lil Bug. I love you too! Now get reading.” With that, the call clicked off abruptly and Lilly opened the book in her hands. Not wasting any time; not even bothering to sit down.

2

What are your thoughts on my new take on a TBR post???

What books are you reading in February?

Leave your opinions in the comments or alternatively on my social media channels!
Instagram // Goodreads // Twitter // YouTube

 .

1

With Love Bree xx

wednesday-post-ending.png

I'm a Book Depository Affiliate! Get Free Shipping on ALL BOOKS Everywhere!
 
© Jasper+Spice 2018. All Rights Reserved. Please do not use without my permission. This post was not sponsored, all photos and graphics are of my own creation.

Over Her Face (SW#23) – Short Story

Heyo Bookaholics!

It’s been busy.

Once upon a time, there was a King who had two sons. One was tall with long blonde hair and broad shoulders. His name was Tristan. The other son was shorter, older with cropped chestnut brown hair, and the beginnings of a beard forming around his jaw.

The King was content with his heirs. Two respectable young men who could hold their own in a battle. He raised them all on his own, with a little help from the maiden who lived within the castle, but she was a lowly peasant and would not be given credit for anything.

It came a time where the men must choose a wife. A woman on the throne appeased the people of the kingdom and helped the men keep up appearances. The King held a contest: Bachelor style. The pressure was on for the oldest son, Tristan to find a respectable, well presented, noble wife to rule beside him when his father passed on the kingdom.

The youngest son didn’t have the same expectations over his head. So little rested in his hands, his name wasn’t even known by those of the kingdom. Everyone presumed that he would be killed in a battle before he could collect his first tithe. Let me tell you, friends, to never underestimate those who are lesser, even if they are above yourself. Remember their names because they will remember yours.

The day the women arrived, they were followed each by a servant of both male and female orientations. The Tristan and his brother stared out into the courtyard from the window high up in the castle, watching the women shoo away their fussing mothers, and accept last goodbyes from their fathers who pushed the servants along behind their daughters.

Tristan smiled at it all, scanning the eligible bachelorettes for a face that he would like to wake up to every morning. A face that would represent the kingdom in the years to come. Someone who would age gracefully with him. The youngest son just starred.

Lips pursed together, he held back a scowl at this nonsense; they were never going to find love this way. Buth their father didn’t want love for them, nor happiness. He just wanted heirs and a for the kingdom to remain in his family. Foolish really, the younger brother thought. Would all mean nothing when he is dead?

The boys stood and watched until all the women had entered the castle. Their rooms had been set up by handmaidens provided by the King himself. Only the best for his sons’ future wife.

“Let us refresh. We will meet the ladies for dinner.” The King spoke from behind them. Hope resonated in his deep voice as he clapped a hand on each of his sons’ shoulder and squeezed. Again the younger brother tried his best not to wince or flinch and stayed positive for his father’s sake.

“Yes, lets.” Tristan replied joyously, flashing a mischievous smile at his brother before calling for a guard to escort them down to their temporary lodging.

The trio followed five armed men through the castle. Bridges connected each wing of the castle and spanned across the top of the main ballroom, with staircases leading to the upper and lower rooms. Making it to the top-most floor in the east wing, the King and his sons were greeted by servants who knelt at their feet and pledged their allegiance to the King current and future. The current King had ensured that their three rooms were heavily guarded and away from the guests and were well stocked with servants of course.

The youngest son took in his room and wasn’t sure whether to be happy or angry. Someone had gone through his room at home and brought over his treasure box. He touched the lid of the carved wooden box and did a quick visual sweep of his room to make sure there were no unexpected guests, before lifting it.

He placed the lid on the floor beside the box and frantically shuffled through the contents to ensure nothing had been moved or removed. No one knew what was in here, not even Tristan. He pulled out letter after letter after letter, reading the dates and counting them in his head. 27 in total. A few flower petals and blades of grass fell out with the letters and the younger brother smiled.

Those nights in another garden. Lying on the grass, exchanging letters and reading them out to each other in soft low voices. The forbidden love that existed in more mediums than it should. Now he would be forced to marry another. A woman at that.

A knock sounded at the door and Tristan’s voice drifted through the cracks.

“Brother? Are you ready? Dinner is soon.” He heard Tristan’s hand on the handle, the grinding as it turned.

“No, I am not ready brother! Please stay outside.” He tried to keep the rustling down and was sure his voice hid his most of his fanatic rush to hide the letters. The wood and paper staining red and green as he shoved in the flowers and grass on top. A sharp scrapping sound echoed around the room and Tristan spoke again.

“Brother is everything okay?” The younger brother looked at the box safely under his bed and smiled.

“Yes, brother.” He replied. Straightened out his clothed, slapped on a smile and stood in front of the door turning the nob. “I am ready.” Tristan looked like a King already. He deserved it truly. Standing there in the most regal blue coat, all he needed was the right crown atop his head and he could move mountains with his charm.

“Let’s meet the ladies.”

“Lets.” Tristan grabbed his brother’s arm, leading him down to the dining hall where 15 noble women sat all beautifully groomed and dressed up, expecting to be the wives of the King’s sons.

2

I had so so much fin writing this!!! What did you think??

Would you like to see a continuation of this?

Leave your opinions in the comments or alternatively on my social media channels!
Instagram // Goodreads // Twitter // YouTube

 .

1

With Love Bree xx

wednesday-post-ending.png

I'm a Book Depository Affiliate! Get Free Shipping on ALL BOOKS Everywhere!
 
© Jasper+Spice 2018. All Rights Reserved. Please do not use without my permission. This post was not sponsored, all photos and graphics are of my own creation.

A snippet of my novel, The Inversion! (SW#22)

Heyo Bookaholics!

I love sharing things about the book I’m writing and today I give you all something special! A snippet/ flashback from one of the characters in the novel!

Currently Chapter 19

NO ONE BUT Vince knew about the kiss. They were as close of friends as anyone else in the group. She’d told him to be at her house at exactly 5pm so they would make it to the party on time, joking that she’d leave without him if he was late.

It was five to five when Norelle heard a knock at the door of her house and grabbing the keys off of the hook she prepared herself to playfully scold Vince for being late, a smile complementing the day-dreamy look in her eyes.

She swung the door open and opened her mouth but stopped short of saying anything because they’re on her porch stood a beautiful girl, a braided halo of gold wrapped around her head and pearls of blue hung from her ears catching the light from the house.

When she spoke, her voice sounded like warm milk before bed, smooth and silken. “I thought I’d take you up on that offer.” Every thought disappeared from Norelle’s mind as the beautiful girl leaned in towards her.

It happened so slowly, yet was over so soon and Norelle didn’t even have a chance to savour the feeling of the other woman’s lips on her own. She stood here as still as stone, hands hanging awkwardly in the air, stiff, not knowing where to rest.

The woman in front of her smiled and let out a little choking sound, snapping Norelle back into the moment. Forcing a smile in response to the most unflattering laugh ever she remembered her floating arms and shoved her hands into the back pockets of her jeans and grabbed at the material to stop the shaking.

“Uh, so what was the offer?” Her smart inner voice had been bested by the idiot inside her. Norelle felt her heart shedding metaphorical tears and she internally chastised her own brain and tongue for the horrible communication skills.

The woman before her actually giggled this time. Norelle liked it. She liked it very much and made sure to tell her brain to remember that deep sweet sound.

The two women just stood there staring at each other, both equally as shocked at what went down although there was no doubting that the woman whose hand was brushing Norelle’s testingly was very pleased with her actions. With a burst of confidence, Norelle grabbed her hand stopping it from swinging and now looking equally as smug, pulled the other woman closer, this time savouring the closeness and taking in the musky scent of her perfume.

She lingered with their lips only millimetres apart, slowly, teasingly she leaned forward and brushed their lips together before pushing her away harshly.

The two girls were illuminated by the headlights of a car pulling into the driveway beside them. The redness of Norelle’s face was lessened in the light but the fear in her widened eyes said it all.

No one could know.

No one could know.

The pressure building up in her chest made her want to scream and cry and throw her arms around but she resisted, instead staring at the woman in front of her, the nurse she was wanted to be needed to protect those around her before she herself was okay, and she would run through fire if it meant that Dani would be her perfect self. Dani stood before Norelle with the same expression of fear, tense and as afraid as ever. Norelle took small solace in the fact that she hadn’t bolted at the first sound, but Dani was stronger than that; always has been and will never stop now, not when this was her boldest move yet.

A car door slammed and the two women remained on the porch, eyes still locked in silent communication though no words were getting through. No words but tears. Tears were leaking from Dani’s left eye rolling down the side of her nose and Norelle stepped forward, warily wrapping both her arms around the woman’s neck; one hand cradling Dani’s head and the other tracing circles in the nape of the woman’s neck. Dani leaned into Norelle, fitting her head perfectly in the curve of her neck breathing in the sweet peppermint scent of the woman.

The gravel in the driveway crunched as someone walked closer to the embracing women and Norelle tightened her arms around Dani and turned her head ever so slightly to the left, watching a dark silhouette in a baseball cap walk tentatively towards them.

She would recognise that gait from anywhere, but it was hard to summon a smile when she knew what he had potentially seen. What he would do with this information was to be found out as he gave a little shout to announce his presence.

“Hey.” His voice broke at the end, the uneven tone apologetic towards Norelle. She smiled at his approaching figure, not wanting to scare Dani and lifted her hand away from the woman’s head to wave.

She chose not to ignore Dani but to test him. As Vince strode towards her, Norelle unwrapped her arms from around Dani’s neck and dropped from balancing on the tips of her toes to standing on flat feet once again. She placed her forehead against Dani’s and spoke ever so softly.

“He’s my best friend. We can trust him if he says anything I’ll hit him.” Dani let out a small chuckle and lifted her head.

“I’m glad I came over tonight.” She whispered back. “But I must be leaving.” Norelle wanted to wake up to that voice every morning, hear it say goodnight to her in the evenings and listen to it scream out her name. Dani placed a soft kiss upon Norelle’s nose and turned to leave, ignoring Vince’s presence.

Norelle watched her back as she disappeared out the front gate and didn’t even notice when Vince clapped his hand down on her shoulder, only acknowledging him when he spoke up.

“Okay. What was that?” He punctuated every word dumbfounded. “Since when did you have a girlfriend? You are the actual worst at keeping secrets.”

“Surprise.” Norelle said in a monotone voice waving her fingers in his face as sarcastic jazz hands. “I’m just finding this out at the same time as you. Further proving that I’m the actual worst at secrets.” She finally looked away from the gate and at Vince, though didn’t make eye contact.

“Well shit.” Vince just nodded his head back and forth like a metronome unsure what to say. Norelle just looked away, back towards the gate longingly, though it didn’t last long until Vince stuck his head in front of her face, brows creased and mouth agape. “Wait so do you even know her?” He exclaimed.

Norelle smiled knowingly. “Of course silly. We’ve just never done.” She paused unsure of what to call what just happened but settled on “that.” Vince nodded, seeming to understand everything and more.

“So are you two doing anything tonight? Should I leave?” He was making those awkward hand gestures that looked like he was chopping air or trying to mimic DJ hands, slowly moving backward in the direction towards his car.

“No no no, please don’t leave.” Norelle laughed watching him exhale gratefully. He came back to her, hugged her and held her at arm’s length taking in her outfit. Light wash jeans, a white t-shirt and white sneakers; not at all party ready.

“Then get changed woman. I can’t have you coming to the party with me looking like this.” At that he gestured at her whole outfit and pushed her inside, closing the door behind them.

2

Thoughts??

Leave your opinions in the comments or alternatively on my social media channels!
Instagram // Goodreads // Twitter // YouTube

 .

1

With Love Bree xx

wednesday-post-ending.png

I'm a Book Depository Affiliate! Get Free Shipping on ALL BOOKS Everywhere!
 
© Jasper+Spice 2018. All Rights Reserved. Please do not use without my permission. This post was not sponsored, all photos and graphics are of my own creation.

The Room Of Nightmares (SW#21) – Short Story

Heyo Bookaholics!

There was no plan for this one…

There was no plan for any of them.

The Room Of Nightmares.

Where are you?

The room is bare, no walls or doors, or tables, or chairs. The room has white walls, bright white walls. Not like the freshly painted kind either. These are the kind that look like they were crafted of a matte white sheet smoothed to perfection, no shine at all.

You spin around and around and around and around trying to catch any small detail by passing quickly over the room. It had to have been 10 minutes and you’ve checked everything excessively, even the depths of your memory in which you found nothing but white blinding lights.

You tried so hard to conjure a memory but for all the life in you, you couldn’t remember a doorway or a struggle in which one would suspect they’d see if they had watched many blockbuster movies.

It wasn’t a situation you’d willingly put yourself into. No, you are too much of a homebody. You need your laptop, phone, bed, and things around you, this was not right.

You don’t know what time it is anymore.

Your clothes are usually black. Black leggings, t-shirt, hoodie, socks, hair ties. Everything. Black. But there is only white in here. You can hear your heart in your ears now. The walls beat out that rhythmic thump thump, thump thump.

You can feel it through the floor. It makes your legs turn to jelly and they shake violently beneath you so you spread them out hoping a change in stance fixes your issue, but the trembling continues rising higher up your legs.

The shivers approach your pelvis and you feel them on the inside of your thighs. You know there’s nothing to grab hold of and the feeling keeps rising, your bladder feels full suddenly, the urge to pee is prevalent and you start bending your knees, bouncing, feeling short bursts of reprieve for everything.

The shakes are in your fingers now and your head shakes violently looking everywhere in the room for a way out or a way in. A way to be heard or be seen; but then a thought comes to you, just as you feel pins and needles tickles your toes inside your white shoes.

The thought remains in your head as you reach down to rip apart the shoelaces, frustrated by your shaking hands. The pins and needles begin rising but you refuse to let your body touch the floor; sitting will mean defeat but you need these shoes off now.

A voice rings out over the thump thump thump. It fills your head, and the room around you vibrating the walls and floor, forcing you to give up and endure the feet pain that has now turned your feet numb, your body to follow.

What if you are being watched?

What if this is a test?

That voice is you. Your subconscious thoughts, saving and protecting you as your mind should when your body cannot fend for itself. The last line of defence has shown itself.

Something in your mind, a wiser power tells you to tilt your head upward. Your staring right into the corner, where two walls and the roof meet. Your eyes flick from one corner to the next, to the next, to the next. The similarities are obvious; the differences, not so much.

A different coloured dot marks each corner. Just small enough for you to make out with the most intense of concentrations.

“Red, Green, Yellow, Orange.”

No sooner had the words left your mouth, feeling came back into your neck, muscles loosening, the pins and needles less painful than before. Another Idea came to you. If the words spoken gave your reprieve, then the rainbow would cure all; and you spoke again.

“Red, Orange, Yellow, Green.”

Like a headrush, you could feel everything again. The thumping in the walls vanished and so did the vibrations in the walls and floor. If things couldn’t get any weirder, you notice the white from the walls vanishing, turning to a hazy grey, then to an all the way clear glass.

Your optometrist stands at a control panel behind the glass to your left; a satisfied smile on their face. They lean down and press a button on the panel and speak directly to you.

“You have passed the first test. Now for test two.”

They press the button again and silence overwhelms you once more. Before you have a chance to register changes, the walls turn back to a hazy grey and then the same white as before; your eyes as wide as saucers and feet planted to the spot like trees, nothing made sense. One thought runs through your mind.

Where the bloody hell are you?

2

What clichés do you like to read about?

Leave your opinions in the comments or alternatively on my social media channels!
Instagram // Goodreads // Twitter // YouTube

.

1

With Love Bree xx

wednesday-post-ending.png

I'm a Book Depository Affiliate! Get Free Shipping on ALL BOOKS Everywhere!
 
© Jasper+Spice 2018. All Rights Reserved. Please do not use without my permission. This post was not sponsored, all photos and graphics are of my own creation.

It’s Only A Game (SW #19) Part 2

Heyo Bookaholics!

Coz you liked Part 1 so much!

If you haven’t read Part 1 of this story, I suggest that you go read that right now by clicking on this link!

Part 2:

You had a dinner? Like a date dinner?” I exclaim incredulously, maybe putting a little too much emphasis on the word ‘you’. What do you expect? Some crazy daemon looking dude appears in my kitchen making himself at home saying that I summoned him and made him miss a dinner. Sue me if you think someone as hideous, not beautiful as this would have a date.

“Yes, a dinner date! Oh my gosh, you humans are all the same.” He replies so mournfully placing his head into his red clawed hands. After a small silence, two words boom from his mouth that shake me up. “WAKE UP!”

I’m unsure if it was the severe unexpectedness of the shout or if there was some sort of magic going on but I felt all of the tiredness evaporate from my body and it was as if I’d woken up at my usual 10am without a raging hangover and eight hours sleep.

“Wow man, thanks. I thought you said you were going to ruin my day but this is great!” I feel so awake right now, I can dance or run a marathon, or do something more achievable like make breakfast without collapsing.

“Well I was going to, but you’re just so frustrating.” He smirks an unexpectedly sexy quirk of the lips. Maybe seeing me happy entertains him? Is that weird for happiness to amuse such a creature? I calm myself down and grabbed another glass from the cupboard as well as toast.

“Easy questions first.” I start, placing my loot down in neat lines along the bench, everything taking me a few minutes to line up and position. “What would you like to eat and drink?” I turn back to face my red skinned house intruder, guest who’s stare is fixated strangely on the spirit board still on the table.

“Your flesh and blood please, toasted and freshly drawn respectively.” My eyes widen. I’m no longer calling him my house guest nope, nope abort mission! The one time I try to be nice and it backfires! My wide eyes look everywhere but the intruder as I place four slices of toast in the toaster and poured a glass or orange juice for myself choosing to ignore the vile request.

I hear chuckling behind me, then full blown laughter. Let me tell you that if you ever have a red skinned daemon looking dude intrude on you, make him laugh! That sound is the sweetest most melodic sound my ears have ever heard and I would play it on repeat till the end of my days.

From behind me, he – whom I must really need to ask his name – speaks between breaths of dying laughter. I catch enough of the sounds to piece together what he’s saying, going something like; “I’ll have what you’re having.”

“Well, that’s better.” I try to joke. Handing over the plate and glass that I’d prepared for myself, saying a little  “here you go sir” then turning back to the kitchen.

The house becomes silent suddenly and I can only hope that he is eating or picking at his food. I turned around to see my guest, not eating but staring uncomfortably at the table in front of him.

“What’s wrong? Do you not like Vegemite?” I ask worriedly.

“I don’t like being called sir.” Uh okay, that’s cool why was he so nervous? Maybe he was a super old person whom I am offending by acknowledging his possibly super old age.

“But you still like Vegemite right?” Sue me for just making sure my breakfast delicacy is to my new friend’s liking.

“Uhh about that…” He trailed off. Oh, come one I thought we were going to be best friends and eat Vegemite out of the jar together on the couch while watching The Bachelor and judge all the girls and the horrible way in which channel 7 likes to portray them. “It’s bitter like my soul.” I met the answer with a look of confusion at which he laughed, and that wonderful sound filled my house once more. I will swear on everything that my anxiety has been cured hearing that sound.

I was going to end this story at Part 2, but if you want the story to keep going please let me know!

2

What are your thoughts on Part 2 of It’s Only A Game??

Leave your opinions in the comments or alternatively on my social media channels!
Instagram // Goodreads // Twitter // YouTube

.

1

With Love Bree xx

wednesday-post-ending.png

I'm a Book Depository Affiliate! Get Free Shipping on ALL BOOKS Everywhere!

© Jasper+Spice 2018. All Rights Reserved. Please do not use without my permission. This post was not sponsored, all photos and graphics are of my own creation.