Playing God

If I’ve been quiet for a while, please forgive me. I’ve been busy playing at being God.

I’m halfway through the process of writing my second, World War Two romantic saga, and I realised that I’m a very lucky person to be doing something I enjoy so much. I spend days at my computer, writing and researching as I go to fill in the historical details as accurately as I can while keeping the flow and the tempo of the story.

It occurred to me today that writing fiction is like playing God. I create my fictional world, adding details as I go, filling in the streets and workplaces to make the stage as realistic as possible for my characters to dance across. Then I add the characters. I sculpt them with words and describe how they look in an unobtrusive way so as not to jar the course of the story. I have control of their emotions and feelings, I can make them happy or sad, angry or willful. I can decide if they are to be lovable rogues or demons, simpering idiots or suave heroes, heroines or harridans. It’s a huge responsibility, but I love to make my little people believable in whatever role I choose for them to play.

As the story progresses, I have big decisions to make about the individuals who populate my world. Do I make them fall in love or do I make them become bitter enemies? Do I create more life by including a birth? Will I decide to kill anyone off? How will a death help to push the story forward? Who has a secret to hide, and what will that secret be?

I can become any one of those characters and get inside their head. I can hear what they are thinking, and I know how they will react to anything I wish to throw at them. I journey with them through years of their lives, and then I have to decide where to leave them. I like a happy ending and I think most readers do too, but I’m tempted, now and then, to allow the villain to triumph for a change.

It’s not easy to play God, but I wouldn’t swap my life as an author for anything else. It’s so good to be in control of a microcosm of humanity. To see the final product of my imagination in print is the ultimate pleasure. My little world is complete and I set it free to spin through the universe of literature, watching and hoping that my creation finds its own momentum and attracts a following of happy readers.

If you’d like to see the first World War Two romantic saga, ‘The Scent of Bluebells’ is available on Amazon as a Kindle eBook and in paperback.

You’ll find it here, or on your own country’s Amazon website.

Amazon.com

Amazon.co.uk

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Excerpt No 12, ‘They Take our Children, Book One, The Truth Revealed.’

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PROLOGUE
I became interested in UFOs a few years ago after seeing strange flying objects in the sky above my home town of Wakefield, West Yorkshire. I discussed my sightings with a police officer friend, and he warned me that I would not be taken seriously if I reported it to the authorities. I was astonished when he also confided in me that he had been abducted by aliens, but was too afraid to talk openly of his experience.

I decided to do some research on the issue. I talked with more abductees, attended UFO conferences, read many books on the subject and trawled the Internet for more information. I was surprised how much I found. I had no idea where my investigations would lead, but I was totally unprepared for what I uncovered.
Sifting the genuine stories from the fake accounts was challenging. Unfortunately, this subject is often trivialised and ridiculed, and I know that some will believe ALL the accounts are phony, no matter how much compelling testimony and physical evidence can be found.

I was drawn to a series of accounts that followed the same theme. Balls of light were seen in the sky, followed by abduction to a strange place, where physical examinations were made on the abductees by alien beings. Some abductees mention a breeding programme of some kind between aliens and human beings. How can so many similar stories, from individuals around the world, be false?

The idea of a book began to take shape. I wanted to expose the facts that I had discovered, but my police officer friend had warned me that nobody would listen. So I wrote a fictional account, using details from my research. You can read the serialised excerpts from the story here.
Fact or fiction?
Urban myth or government cover-up?
You decide.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This 12th excerpt is from a science fiction novel about alien abduction. If you would like to read the novel from the beginning, please see the previous excerpts in, ‘They Take our Children.’

The complete eBook series is available on Amazon stores worldwide priced at $0.99 US dollars or equivalent, or £0.99p in UK.

Please go to an Amazon online store to purchase this novel if you can’t wait to read the rest.

Amazon.com

Amazon.co.uk

 

Chapter Twelve: Terry, Courtney

Janine went back to Gavin and Helen’s home the following day, but Terry had to go to work. He found it difficult to concentrate. His job as a bus driver was not too taxing, but it did require his full attention on West Yorkshire’s busy roads. The stress was proving too much for him. After five wrong turns and a near miss at a roundabout, he decided to call in sick and go home to his wife.
Terry was a practical man. His friends would call him an ordinary bloke. He liked a pint down at the local pub, a game of darts, a good film on the television and the home comforts provided by his wife. His life would have been perfect, if only his sons were still with him. He lived with the loss and the grief of not knowing what had happened to them, every day of his life. His missing children caused a constant ache deep within him and he knew it was the same for Janine. Now Courtney was missing too. She was like the daughter they had kept trying for but never had. Janine had tests but no reason was ever found for them not conceiving after Chris. After the boys went, they stopped trying, they’d lost their children and it didn’t seem right to try to replace them with more.
Then Courtney was born, filling their lives with laughter again, easing their pain and giving them a new focus. The new baby was especially good for Janine. When Helen needed to return to work to get over the baby blues, she left the child with her. Janine was a natural mother and she bonded with Courtney, as Helen never had. Terry watched it happening, but said nothing. It would have seemed cruel to discourage his wife from becoming too attached when she so obviously thrived on motherhood.
So here they were again, feeling as they had in the first days after their sons’ disappearance. Terry clung to the hope that at least Courtney had run away and not been taken, as it was thought happened to Chris and Sam.
Terry arrived at his home in the middle of the afternoon, intending to get changed out of his work clothes before going across to Helen and Gavin’s home. He heard a chair scrape back from the table and thought Janine was in the kitchen. His mouth dropped open in surprise as he opened the door to find Courtney standing by the window, looking like a frightened kitten.
‘Courtney!’ Terry was across the kitchen in two strides, hugging his niece for all he was worth. ‘Where have you been? What did you run away for? Are you all right… ?’
‘Oh, Uncle Terry,’ Courtney sobbed, leaning into him. ‘I’m sorry, I’m so sorry for worrying you.’
They clung together, Courtney sobbing and Terry gently patting her back, soothing her. ‘Now then, love, don’t get all upset.’ He kissed the top of her head. ‘You’re back now, that’s all that matters.’ He guided her to the table where he pushed her gently onto a chair. She had let herself in as she had hundreds of times before; using the spare key they kept under a plant pot by the back gate. She looked dishevelled, but otherwise seemed well.
‘We have to let your mum and dad know that you’re safe.’ Terry moved to pick up the telephone on the kitchen wall.
‘Not yet, Uncle Terry.’ Courtney sprang from the chair, pleading with him. ‘I need some time to think, please…’ she rushed on. ‘Just an hour or two.’
‘You’ve had lots of time. They really are worried you know, love.’ Terry understood how nervous she must feel but Gavin and Helen deserved to be told. ‘How about I ring them and tell them you need a bath and something to eat and then we’ll go round?’
Courtney bit her lower lip nervously. She was obviously not looking forward to meeting her mother.
‘Your poor dad has been out of his mind.’ Terry knew that any mention of her father would encourage her to agree to a phone call. He watched as she blinked back the tears that threatened. She nodded and watched him lift the receiver.
He knew she heard the whoops of joy at the other end of the phone and she smiled her gratitude when he dissuaded the whole family from coming straight round. Instead, he asked if Janine could come home and bring some fresh clothing for Courtney.
‘Trust you, Uncle Terry, to think of the practicalities,’ she told him as he replaced the receiver.
‘Well just look at the state of you. I bet you’ve been sleeping rough!’
‘Yeah, there’s this old hut I used to play in as a kid. It’s up in the woods.’ She sniffed her arm and pulled a face. ‘I guess I really do need a change of clothes.’
‘You go on up and run a bath, I’ll get the chip pan going.’ Terry was not a great cook, but chips were a speciality of his.
‘Uncle Terry,’ Courtney went to hug him. ‘What would I do without you? A bath and your famous chips, you spoil me.’ She gave him one of her huge grins before she trudged upstairs.
Terry watched her go, grinning to himself with the relief he felt at having her back safe and sound. She didn’t seem any the worse for her nights away from home. She still had the sparkle in her eyes. He had no idea why she’d gone, but it was really none of his business and he didn’t like to pry. Janine would get to the bottom of it. She wouldn’t even need to ask. Courtney always confided in her Auntie.
Terry was busy slicing some potatoes when Janine walked in carrying a plastic carrier bag. She smiled and hugged her husband. Relief had smoothed away the worry lines that had gathered on her face, her spirits were high again.
‘Is she still in the bath?’ Janine looked to the ceiling and shouted. ‘Hey, Treasure, are you using all my hot water?’
The sound of water running away through the pipe-work mixed with Courtney’s delighted squeals, as she bumped around the bathroom. Janine and Terry exchanged a smile. They didn’t need words to express to each other how they felt.
Courtney bounded into the kitchen, still wet from her bath, with a huge towel wrapped around her. She ran straight to Janine and threw her pale thin arms round the ample waist of her Auntie.
‘Hey steady on, love, you’ll knock me off me feet.’ Janine hugged her niece fiercely.
‘It’ll take more than a seven stone weakling to move you, woman.’ Terry laughed and received a shove from his wife as Courtney giggled.
‘You sure you’re all right, love?’ Janine turned back to Courtney, concern in her eyes as she took a good look at her niece.
‘There’s nothing wrong with me that a plate full of Uncle Terry’s chips won’t put right.’ She reached over and took a piece of raw potato, popping it into her mouth and crunching.
‘You wait ’till they’re cooked.’ Terry scolded and turned to test the oil in the pan.
‘Here are your clothes, love.’ Janine gave Courtney the plastic bag. ‘Go and make yourself decent.’
After the meal, Terry left the girls to wash the dishes, knowing Courtney would open up to Janine if he weren’t there. His niece clearly needed to talk. She tried to be her normal happy-go-lucky self, but the strain of the last few days showed in the dark circles under her eyes. He went out to his greenhouse to give them some space.

Courtney was very quiet after Terry left them, but Janine kept up a steady flow of conversation, telling her how worried they’d been, how kind all the neighbours were and how everyone kept asking after her. Courtney only half listened to her Auntie, knowing she was being patient and waiting for her to speak.
Courtney had been horrified at her mother’s words and during the hours she spent alone in the woods, she almost convinced herself that she must have misheard. Maybe her mother had said something else, or maybe she was talking about someone else. But every time she re-lived the scene and she had gone over it hundreds of times, it was the same. There was no mistaking the fact that her mother had called her a monster.
What hurt Courtney most was that she had no reason to call her that. Courtney had always tried to be well behaved. She didn’t hang around street corners like some of her friends. She was always home before dark, even in winter. She got good reports from school and always helped with the chores. Courtney tried to remember if there had been anything in her behaviour that her mum could have been upset about. The only thing she could think of was that her mother was jealous of her relationship with her Auntie. Which made it even harder to talk about it with Janine.
The words had been going round for so long in her head that they sounded strange when she finally blurted them out. The very sound of her mother’s words, were unreal. ‘Mum called me a monster!’ Her pale face grew even paler and her eyes filled with tears, making them seem enormous.
‘Oh, Courtney, no!’ Janine looked shocked. ‘Your mother has certainly gone too far this time! Are you sure that’s what she said?’
‘She did, Auntie Janine, I heard her. I knew my dad had gone to see where she was. I didn’t want him to miss any more of my party so I went to get him. I heard raised voices as I got to the top of the stairs. They didn’t realise I was there, but I heard her. Then I saw her face and I knew she meant it too.’ Courtney sobbed into the waiting, soft embrace of her Aunt.
‘There now, my love, you have a good cry. We’ll get to the bottom of this.’ She held Courtney, swaying gently, letting her sob against her chest. When the worst of the crying was over and Courtney began to sniffle, Janine produced a box of tissues and led her to the kitchen table. ‘Your mum has some strange ideas and she’s not the easiest person to get along with, I should know!’ She smiled, encouraging Courtney to listen. ‘Did you know she was very ill when she was just a little younger than you are now?’
‘No, what was wrong with her?’ This was the first time Courtney had heard of her mother being ill.
‘It was very strange, even the doctors had no idea what was wrong. She just seemed to switch off, like a breakdown, you know?’ Janine paused and her eyes wouldn’t meet Courtney’s.
‘You mean she went loopy?’ Courtney looked worried.
‘Not exactly, though it seemed to be some form of mental illness.’
‘But she’s okay now isn’t she?’ Courtney wiped her red-rimmed eyes and blew her nose.
‘Yes, yes I’m sure she is, but… ’ Janine seemed stuck for words and Courtney watched as she struggled to find the right ones. ‘Well, we’ve always had to make allowances for your mum; she’s always seemed to be a bit delicate.’
‘Oh I know what you mean,’ Courtney lifted her eyes to the ceiling. ‘She’s always getting migraines; she hates hospitals, funfairs, circuses, holidays and Christmas.’ Courtney looked sad, defeated. ‘It’s not fair. She should never have had me. She hates anything to do with children and having fun. I wish you were my mum.’
Janine’s smile was lopsided. ‘I wish it too sometimes, my love. I sometimes think my sister should never have had a baby but if she hadn’t, there wouldn’t be you for us to love.’
‘Why did she have me, Janine? Was I a mistake?’ Courtney had been thinking all kinds of things while she’d been away in the woods by herself.
‘Only your mum can answer that.’ Janine touched her hand and leaned closer. ‘You’re sixteen now Courtney, almost an adult. Now you can try to have a different type of relationship with your mum. It’s true, she never did enjoy your childhood and perhaps she should have done some things better, but she did the best she could, given the person she is.’ Janine tried to explain. ‘Try to focus on the better side of Helen, the responsible side that made her do everything right by you.’
‘It still would have been better if you’d been my mum.’ Courtney sulked.
‘But you wouldn’t have had your dad then.’ Janine smiled, pointing out how much Courtney adored her father.
‘Okay, so I got a great dad, still doesn’t make up for a lousy mother.’ Courtney continued to pout, which was so out of character for her.
‘She’s not that lousy. She let me look after you. Your mum knew I could give you everything that she couldn’t.’
‘But why couldn’t she love me like you do? Why did she never try to have fun with me, play with me, or read to me like you do?’
‘I don’t know. You’ll have to ask her yourself.’ Janine squeezed Courtney’s hand. ‘All I know is that you and your mother are long overdue a good heart to heart, mother-daughter talk.’
‘I’m not sure I want to have a heart to heart with her. I’m scared! You should have seen her face.’ Courtney looked close to tears again and Janine reached out to take her other hand.
‘We’ll come with you, we’ll be there.’
‘I’m still afraid of what she’s going to say to me.’ Courtney sighed.
‘She’s still your mother, Courtney. She does love you.’ Janine sounded afraid too.
‘Does she love me?’ Courtney’s voice was filled with hope.
‘Of course, she does.’ Janine got up and moved closer to hug her niece. ‘Come on, they’ll be getting impatient to see you, let’s get Terry.’
Courtney’s mood remained sombre on the walk through the streets to her home. Terry and Janine both tried to lighten her spirits, joking about her night in the woods, calling her red riding hood, asking if she’d seen the wolf and telling her how brave she’d been. Courtney was glad of their banter, but it did little to make her feel better about the coming meeting with her parents. She knew her dad would understand. He’d heard the words himself. She even remembered him running after her but she’d hidden behind the neighbour’s hydrangea bush until he’d gone back inside. She didn’t want to talk to anybody then. She wanted to be alone with her thoughts and her fears. Now she’d had time to think things through and her mind was full of questions. Now she was ready to listen to some answers. She wanted to know why her mother had called her a monster, but she was still afraid to ask.

TO BE CONTINUED.………..

This 12th excerpt is from a science fiction novel about alien abduction. If you would like to read the novel from the beginning, please see the previous excerpts in, ‘They Take our Children.’

The complete eBook series is available on Amazon stores worldwide. Please go to an Amazon online store to purchase this novel if you can’t wait to read the rest.

Amazon.com

Amazon.co.uk

Excerpt No 11, ‘They Take our Children, Book One, The Truth Revealed.’

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PROLOGUE
I became interested in UFOs a few years ago after seeing strange flying objects in the sky above my home town of Wakefield, West Yorkshire. I discussed my sightings with a police officer friend, and he warned me that I would not be taken seriously if I reported it to the authorities. I was astonished when he also confided in me that he had been abducted by aliens, but was too afraid to talk openly of his experience.

I decided to do some research on the issue. I talked with more abductees, attended UFO conferences, read many books on the subject and trawled the Internet for more information. I was surprised how much I found. I had no idea where my investigations would lead, but I was totally unprepared for what I uncovered.
Sifting the genuine stories from the fake accounts was challenging. Unfortunately, this subject is often trivialised and ridiculed, and I know that some will believe ALL the accounts are phony, no matter how much compelling testimony and physical evidence can be found.

I was drawn to a series of accounts that followed the same theme. Balls of light were seen in the sky, followed by abduction to a strange place, where physical examinations were made on the abductees by alien beings. Some abductees mention a breeding programme of some kind between aliens and human beings. How can so many similar stories, from individuals around the world, be false?

The idea of a book began to take shape. I wanted to expose the facts that I had discovered, but my police officer friend had warned me that nobody would listen. So I wrote a fictional account, using details from my research. You can read the serialised excerpts from the story here.
Fact or fiction?
Urban myth or government cover-up?
You decide.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This 11th excerpt is from a science fiction novel about alien abduction. If you would like to read the novel from the beginning, please see the previous excerpts in, ‘They Take our Children.’

The complete eBook series is available on Amazon stores worldwide priced at $0.99 US dollars or equivalent, or £0.99p in UK.

Please go to an Amazon online store to purchase this novel if you can’t wait to read the rest.

Amazon.com

Amazon.co.uk

 

Chapter Eleven: Helen

The lights danced in her bedroom, just as they had in the sky. Helen watched from her bed, fascinated by the spectacle, only a little afraid at this point. From the safe vantage point of the future, the older Helen could afford the luxury of examining her emotions. She remembered the wonder and the awe she felt as she reached out to touch the balls of light bobbing around her bed. They swayed away from her touch reminding her of magnetic experiments she’d done at school. Her hand seemed to share the same polarity as the lights. She felt the opposing force push against her hand as the balls swung away from her.

Her fingers began to tingle, then her toes and the sensation quickly spread to the rest of her body. She thought she was being electrocuted slowly and a tiny seed of fear began to grow. She remembered trying to call out at this point but her throat seemed paralysed by the strange tingles.

The lights moved towards her and she was lifted as they manoeuvred beneath her. Then they enclosed her. Her vision was filled with light and as she closed her eyes against the fierce brightness, her mouth opened in a silent scream. She remained conscious, feeling every outside influence on her body.

Somehow she had been taken out of her bedroom. The coldness of the frosty air stung her skin. The sound of the wind filled her ears as she was pushed through the night sky. Fleetingly she opened her eyes to see land and houses far below but quickly closed them tight to shut out the fearful sight. Much later she opened her eyes again in time to see a much larger ball of white light below her, growing larger as she approached it. She glanced at her body, but quickly closed her eyes in fear. Her body was not there. She had become invisible. She looked out beyond the ball of light that enclosed her. Far below there were three lakes in a line between high, steep sided hills. More, identical balls of light bobbed in the air beneath her. She remembered thinking at the time, ‘I must be dead. This is what must happen when you die.’

The present day Helen smiled as she lie in bed, death would have been easier and so much simpler.

She was rushed through, pushed into, the larger ball of white light. The light was bigger than a house, but from her vantage point, she could not tell exactly how big, even when questioned by Mr Robertshaw. She had no reference points to compare it with. Even her body was missing. The smaller ball of light surrounding Helen dissolved, leaving her suspended within the larger brightness.

She felt warmth and moistness in the air and as she felt it, the tingling sensation in her body went away. She remembered holding out her arms, watching them appear slowly and anatomically. First the bones, then the soft tissue appeared, followed by the veins and arteries and finally the skin. At this point, her fear put the block in her mind. She had always remembered up to that moment. Janine would never discuss that part. Her mind had put up a protective barrier that blocked everything from that first sighting of the lights in her bedroom. Janine continued to insist that the details she could recall were fragments of a dream. Helen thought her sister was very lucky.

Now Helen remembered everything, although the sequence of events still seemed confusing. Mr Robertshaw was always very patient with her, allowing her time to cry and time to deal with the emotions, the anger, the fear and the helplessness.

She drifted in a sea of warm, multi-coloured pastel mist. Forces pushed against her, directing her, but she felt nothing touching her physically. She was lifted and placed on a cold surface. Her nightdress had been removed, she still could not remember how.

Helen paused in her chain of thought to push the block away. She wanted to see how her clothing was taken, but the image still evaded her. Now she had to make a shift in her conscious mind, a trick taught to her by Mr Robertshaw. To see through the mental block; to force the new path in her brain and to re-connect the memories; she had to approach them from a new direction. Here she took a sideways step off the path of memory. She brought to mind the image of the lights in her bedroom and the image of herself in the bed. She made herself aware of her nightdress and the feel of it on her skin. This memory had been overwhelmed by the sense of sight, as she had been totally absorbed by the lights at the time.

Using this simple method, she could recall almost every detail of the nightmare. Over the years, whenever she found herself unable to remember some detail, she resorted to this type of self-awareness, focusing on all of her senses, not only the dominant one at the time. She didn’t consider it cheating, when it helped her pass exams. Friends were impressed by her memory skills. She didn’t explain her method, as she would have had to explain how she knew about it.

The tingling overshadowed the feel of the fabric on her skin, she forced her mind to remember the sounds and the smells, but there was only a low hissing noise and a musty, sour smell. Again her mind was defeated. She still could not recall the removal of her nightdress. She was wearing it in bed, but not when she got her body back at the end of the journey inside the larger, white ball of light.

Helen placed her mind back on the cold surface, though preparing to distance herself from the reality of what happened to the younger Helen. It was the only way she could remember and stay sane.

She felt no physical restraints, but found she couldn’t move. Her eyelids were forced open, but again, by nothing physical. She stared into a small bright violet dot of light, unable even to move her eyeball to avoid the painful glare. The light grew even brighter then it discharged a piercing needle of pain to the back of her right eye. She felt her whole body convulse with the force of her reaction to the pain, but could do nothing to protect herself from it. Then it happened again to her left eye. This time she knew what to expect and her mind screamed a silent protest as her left eye was pierced by the cruel beam of light.

She was perspiring heavily and small pools of sweat gathered beneath her. She was mortified to realise that she had also involuntarily emptied her bladder. Glowing tubular structures appeared from above; dangling suspended from some unseen ceiling, they moved stealthily and began tentatively nosing around her. They reached into the pools of sweat and urine and began to noisily suck the fluid away.

Then a soft jelly-like tube, about six inches in length and an inch or so wide, emerged from the end of one of the sucking tubes and started to slide onto her chest. It stretched then slithered, leach-like up her neck, before crawling up into her right ear. It moved gently and it tickled as it stretched, making its body thinner to probe deeper. She felt it slip inside her ear, irritating unpleasantly close to her eardrum, making her squirm with revulsion, before it backed out. Slowly it wormed across her face, making little sucking noises as it moved. Dipping into her left ear, making her mind cringe in horror, it continued its examination.

It didn’t appear to be attached to anything and seemed to have a mind of its own. It continued to explore the contours of her face, feeling like a dry slug creeping across her skin. It entered her nostril, crawling up into the sinus cavity, causing excruciating pain as it elongated and stretched down the other nostril. Then it squashed back up to fill her sinuses before starting to descend her throat. Her nose started bleeding, warm blood ran down both sides of her face and the glowing tubes appeared again to suck the blood away.

The dry slug crawled a little way down her throat, making her retch. She felt it hesitate, then it crawled on. It must have stretched as thin as a hair as it continued down, judging by the spasmodic coughing reflexes that almost choked Helen, she thought it must have gone deep into her lungs. She next felt it when it crept back up her windpipe, almost suffocating her as it reached the back of her throat, then it descended again, this time into her stomach. She could feel the progress of the invader as her insides cramped. Her mind continued to scream and her silent sobs were only evident in the tears that mingled with the blood on her face. The tubes sucked even those away, leaving her with nothing. Her chest heaved with erratic breathing, her heart hammered heavily within her chest, but she remained paralysed and helpless against the horror.

Her abdomen cramped painfully and she felt her bowels contracting. The slug crawled out, pushing ahead of it her bowel contents, which were sucked up by the noisy, gurgling, ever present, glowing tubes. Helen felt sick with embarrassment and fear, but had no time to deal with that horror. The slug continued to probe. She felt her legs forced apart and the slug crawled over her most intimate parts, wriggling its way inside her. She wet herself again as it crawled into her bladder. Feeling totally ashamed and horrified by what was happening, her body began to shake. The tubes sucked away wetness and the slug continued its progress. She felt her tummy contract in a spasm not unlike a period pain, and then felt a more intense pain and she blacked out.

She couldn’t tell how long she had been there when she came to her senses. She was aware of others nearby. She heard erratic breathing. She could smell the unmistakable odour of excrement and urine. She knew she had not been alone in her ordeal and this knowledge fortified her. Others were suffering, others would know, would understand and would help to explain to the authorities. At that point, she couldn’t wait to tell her parents, to see them take some action, so they could make it all go away. She lay on the cold hard surface and wept and hoped it was finished.

The return journey was much the same, the lights returned, bobbing around her. Again she felt the tingling then the rush of movement as her body disappeared. The lights took her home, where she woke up falling down into her bed. Thank goodness she didn’t remember at first, her young, unprepared mind would not have survived the memory.

Helen paused in her mind trip. The memory was still vivid, still horrifying after all these years. She found herself shaking, hot tears escaping her eyes. She made herself get out of bed, movement emphasising reality, putting the past and the memories firmly in their place. For now, it was over, at least for herself. She could face the past, look at it, examine it and think about it. She could not, however, talk about it. Only one person could possibly hope to understand, but Janine did not wish to share the memories. Her sister was happy to leave her mind a welcome blank.

Since the death of the only other person to know and understand, she had been alone with the nightmare. Mr Robertshaw kept in touch through the years, even tried to put her in touch with others  who had similar experiences. She went once to a meeting arranged by him, where twenty people sat around discussing spaceships, little grey men and taller cloaked figures. Some had the same experience as her, they didn’t admit to the same violations, but they shared the same memory of the misty place. She did not discuss her own ordeal, except to agree with some of the others’ statements but she listened sympathetically to some of the wilder stories.

She heard their theories about alien abductions and wondered if they were connected to her own experiences. The people she met that night seemed obsessed by space men and UFO’s. They showed each other scars, supposedly caused by minor operations performed on them by these aliens. They talked of implants, tracking devices and it was all alien to her. Nothing they talked of related to her own understanding of what happened to her. Or why it happened. She couldn’t share her deepest nightmares with these people. Not even Mr Robertshaw himself would understand completely. He didn’t know all of it.

He helped her remember, but she kept most of the memories to herself. Watching his face as she told of the horrors was almost more than she could bear. He cried with her as she told of the first night of violations. He even held her while she cried after telling of the second ordeal. But his face showed more than curiosity, more than compassion. He was obsessed and Helen only realised in later life that the man had a fixation with her experiences. All she felt at the time was that he was a bit creepy and she told herself to be wary of telling him anything more. She kept the real horror locked inside and suffered for it.

Helen needed a drink of water and quietly opened the bedroom door. A light glowed beneath Courtney’s door and for a second Helen thought her daughter had returned. Then she realised it was Gavin. She crossed the landing and looked into the bedroom. He was fast asleep, fully clothed, on top of the bed. She got the spare quilt from her own room and returned to cover him. He woke with a start, disorientated and he shook his head to clear it.

‘Sorry, darling,’ Helen sat on the edge of the bed. ‘I didn’t mean to wake you.’

‘What time is it?’ Gavin asked, automatically.

‘About five I think. I’m going to make some tea, want some?’ She stroked his red curls back from his forehead.

‘Are you okay?’ he asked, his eyes searching her own.

‘I’m fine, don’t worry.’ She forced herself to smile. It wasn’t easy to act normally when the memories were still fresh in her mind.

‘I hope Courtney’s fine too.’ Gavin sounded bitter, accusing and Helen looked away guiltily.

‘I hope so too,’ she said quietly.

‘Do you?’ Gavin sat up. ‘Do you really care?’

Helen left the bed and moved to the door. ‘More than you would know,’ she answered him as she turned to leave.

Gavin shook his head, ‘Helen?’ She looked back. ‘You are so difficult to understand sometimes, but this last twenty-four hours has been unbelievable.’

‘I know, darling.’ Helen went to sit back on the bed at his side.

‘I want to understand, Helen. Your dad showed me some weird stuff today… ’

‘Gavin, it’s late. I don’t want to wake Mum and Dad. Come have a cup of tea with me downstairs. We can talk, if you like.’ She didn’t know if she was ready to explain everything to Gavin, but if he was willing to listen to some of it, he might be able to help when the time came to tell Courtney.

‘We do need to talk, Helen. I think I need some answers.’ He took hold of her hand and Helen lowered her eyes to avoid his searching look. ‘I only wish I knew the right questions to ask.’

 

Gavin joined Helen in the kitchen. She poured him a drink from the hot teapot on the table. She had never been able to tell Gavin about his daughter. He would not have believed her if she’d tried but now she had no choice, he had to know. She was more afraid of his reaction to her memories, than the memories themselves. Her nightmares were now old friends and she could look at them without the crippling fear she once felt. They still had power over her. They still made her cry and still made her feel vulnerable, but they no longer threatened her sanity. She had learned to live with her ordeal. Now Gavin and eventually Courtney, would have to face the truth and learn somehow to live with it as she had done.

‘I know you’re full of questions Gavin and you deserve to know the answers,’ Helen began, reaching for and gripping his hand. ‘I’ll tell you everything but you might wish I hadn’t.’

‘Helen, please…’ Gavin seemed afraid and Helen realised that it must be strange for him to hear the steadiness in her voice. She knew she would appear unnaturally calm to him.

‘Why now?’ He squeezed her hand lovingly. ‘Why decide to let me into your secret, after all these years of me asking?’

‘You didn’t realise what you were asking and you didn’t ask the right questions,’ she smiled gently.

‘I still don’t know,’ he shrugged. ‘It’s a big mystery. Your dad tried to tell me this morning, sorry, yesterday morning, but it was all so far fetched. What happened to you?’

‘That’s the big question. Are you ready for the answer?’ Helen’s steady gaze never left his face.

‘Only if you’re ready to tell me,’ he said and Helen watched his Adam’s apple bob nervously in his throat.

‘You have to give me an open mind, Gavin. I couldn’t bear it if you didn’t believe me.’ She looked away, biting her lower lip.

‘I’ll believe you.’ Gavin insisted. ‘Just tell me.’

Helen took a deep breath and began. ‘It was Christmas. I was fourteen-years-old… ’ Helen told Gavin about the lights, he told her he’d seen them on the film and explained what her father had shown him.

‘Did you listen to the tapes?’ Helen asked, knowing he couldn’t have, or he would be asking different questions. Gavin shook his head and she continued her story. It was easy to tell. She’d just gone through the memory of the first night while alone in her room. She told it without emotion, right up to the part where the slug creature entered her, then she cried and Gavin held her, obviously appalled at the images she was creating in his mind.

‘This is all so horrific, my love. I want to believe you, but this is beyond belief, beyond my ken.’ He pulled her closer, gently stroking her hair. ‘The only explanation that makes any sense is the one about the night terrors.’ He held Helen as she continued to weep quietly in his arms.

Eventually, she pulled herself away from his embrace and forced herself to look into his eyes. ‘You think it was a horrible dream too, don’t you?’ she asked quietly and as he went to shake his head she smiled through her tears. ‘I didn’t expect you to believe straight away, I know how hard it is for you to understand.’

‘It’s incredible, so unreal,’ Gavin pulled her close. ‘But it was real enough to you, hen, I can see that.’

‘It wasn’t in my mind, Gavin. I know that’s what you think.’ She stayed within the circle of his arms, talking quietly into his chest. ‘I can’t alter the way you interpret what I tell you. I can only tell you.’

‘There’s more?’ he asked quietly.

‘Oh yes, Gavin, there’s much more.’ Helen leaned into him. ‘But I think it would be better to save it for another time. It’s a lot to take in.’

‘I’m ready to hear it, Helen. I need to know the whole of it.’

‘Yes you do, but Mum and Dad will be up soon and I don’t want interruptions, let’s wait for a quiet time.’

‘If that’s what you want, hen.’ He used the old familiar endearment as he pulled her closer and tried to hug away her pain.

TO BE CONTINUED…………

This 11th excerpt is from a science fiction novel about alien abduction. If you would like to read the novel from the beginning, please see the previous excerpts in, ‘They Take our Children.’

The complete eBook series is available on Amazon stores worldwide. Please go to an Amazon online store to purchase this novel if you can’t wait to read the rest.

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Goodreads giveaway

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Goodreads Giveaway for this romantic comedy novel starts midnight 3rd June. For your chance to win one of two paperback copies, please enter the giveaway here.

Goodreads Book Giveaway

Pushed on the Shelf by Pearl A. Gardner

Pushed on the Shelf

by Pearl A. Gardner

Giveaway ends June 30, 2014.

See the giveaway details
at Goodreads.

Enter to win

To win one of two paperback copies of ‘Pushed on the Shelf’ by Pearl A. Gardner, please enter the Goodreads Giveaway here. If you enjoy chick lit, this one is for you.

Review posted on Amazon.co.uk
I really enjoyed this book, it was easy reading,light hearted and had me in stitches. Glad she ended up with the good guy

Review posted on Amazon.com
I could not put this book down until I finished. Her husband was a first class jerk and deserves what he gets. The story seems to have an happy enough ending. I enjoyed it.

The story in brief:-
Forty-something Trisha is reeling from the shock of being dumped by her husband, Alan, aka DISCWIFF (Dick in Sports Car With Foot Fetish.) Trisha now has to support her two children financially, as DISCWIFF has set up home with TITSNOBB (Tits no Brain Bimbo) and left her seriously in debt. With no qualifications or experience, the job market looks bleak, but she is determined not to go under. Trisha struggles to hold together all the threads of her unravelling life. She feels like her life is being lived inside a pressure cooker that’s ready to blow a gasket. Something has to give, but what? If only Alan hadn’t met TITSNOBB. If only TITSNOBB had been strangled at birth! It was all that bitch’s fault!

If you can’t wait to win a copy, this is available as a kindle eBook from all Amazon stores for $0.99 (USA) or equivalent, and £0.99 (UK)

Link to the Goodreads Author page to see more books by this author.