http://pulppusher.blogspot.co.uk/2013/02/guest-blog-matt-hilton.html?showComment=1361635408129
An interesting blog, highlighting bad practice by some major booksellers and how their lack of respect for less well known writers is ruining chances of book sales. If you love to read, please take a look. Support diverse literature and promote your favourite writers today.
Saturday, 23 February 2013
Wednesday, 13 February 2013
CHAPTER 3 continued.
CHAPTER 3 cont...
At times she longed to be away from him, but being alone terrified her. Samantha seriously contemplated moving out, but the thought had quickly disappeared. Just when she least expected it, Scott could be so kind and considerate. She just wished that there could be more continuity in his behaviour. He was a lovely man when he wanted to be, so long as she gave him sex when he wanted it. He could be quite a pussycat really. In anycase, she still loved him.
Samantha hadn't been very well lately. Stress and anxiety had played havoc in the past with her periods, and it looked as if it was all setting off again. Initially, she hadn't been too concerned. After all, she has stopped her period when she has sat her O'levels, and four C-grades and two A'grades later, her cycle had returned. But this time she felt different. She hadn't actually been sick but nausea occured each moring and she was worried. Samantha wanted to tell Scott, but she hadn't found the right moment. The first thing was to do a pregancy test and then she was to see the doctor the next morning. Facing Scotts parent's was the last thing she needed tonight.
The drive to the family home in the small village of Stocksfield took only twenty minutes. As they pulled into the long private drive, Samantha's anxiety intensified. She gazed in dread at the beautiful victorian mansion, with it's luscious driveway borders, only to be reminded yet again that she didn't fit in. She was just an ordinary girl with nothing to offer this ostentatious family. The thirty thousand pounds which she had inherited from her parent's estate was no match to the wealth of Scott's family. She'd never told Scott about the money. Appart from being her safety net, her 'get out of jail free card', she couldn't think of using it. In her guilty eyes, she saw it as blood money. In anycase, no way could it come anywhere close in replacing her long lost family.
'Oh, come in,' offered Mr Carter, as he answered the door; a pleasant enough man who was completely monopolised by his overbearing wife. Samantha followed Scott into the lounge. Opening the drinks cabinet and taking out a crystal decanter filled with whiskey, Mr Carter offered them both a drink. Luckily, they were not dining there tonight, having already eaten. Scott and Samantha sat side by side, on the sofa.
'So, darling...how is work at the moment,' enquired Mrs Carter.
'Very good Mother. Jack has offered me a pay rise this month.' was Scott's self-satisfied reply.
'Oh that's wonderful, darling,' replied Mrs Carter. 'And what about you Samantha...how's the shop? Where is it you work again?'
Samantha bristled, trying to think of a suitable retort. Scott's mother knew only too well that she worked in the local supermarket.
'Things are going well thanks. I've just learned how to role a joint actually!'
Alarm flew accross Mrs Carter's face as she looked questioningly at her beloved son. What did she mean by a joint? The only kind she knew of, she was ashamed to say, was a the type she has smoked during her hazy 'Flower Power' days.
'I meant a bacon joint,' sniggered Samantha, pleased to have the upper hand for once. 'They're quite hard to do actually.'
Mrs Carter sniffed and changed the subject. The main focus of the evening was discussing how well Scott's sister, louise was doing at the Royal Victoria Infirmary, where she was trainging to be a nurse. Suddenly, the focus was returned to Samantha.
'You had a grammar school education,' announced Scott's Mum. 'When are you going to get a proper job?' Samantha's eye brimmed with tears of indignation as she tried to think of a suitable reply.
'Oh, I'm just there until something better comes along,' and then looked towards Scott for support but none was forthcoming.
Samantha shouldn't have been surprised at such a rude and demeaning remark. Mrs Carter had no qualms at telling her if her hair was a mess, correcting her speech or making remarks about her manners. In all, Samantha knew without a shadow of a doubt that in Mrs Carter's eyes, Samantha was nowhere near good enough for her precious son. She was an unwanted distraction.
At times she longed to be away from him, but being alone terrified her. Samantha seriously contemplated moving out, but the thought had quickly disappeared. Just when she least expected it, Scott could be so kind and considerate. She just wished that there could be more continuity in his behaviour. He was a lovely man when he wanted to be, so long as she gave him sex when he wanted it. He could be quite a pussycat really. In anycase, she still loved him.
Samantha hadn't been very well lately. Stress and anxiety had played havoc in the past with her periods, and it looked as if it was all setting off again. Initially, she hadn't been too concerned. After all, she has stopped her period when she has sat her O'levels, and four C-grades and two A'grades later, her cycle had returned. But this time she felt different. She hadn't actually been sick but nausea occured each moring and she was worried. Samantha wanted to tell Scott, but she hadn't found the right moment. The first thing was to do a pregancy test and then she was to see the doctor the next morning. Facing Scotts parent's was the last thing she needed tonight.
The drive to the family home in the small village of Stocksfield took only twenty minutes. As they pulled into the long private drive, Samantha's anxiety intensified. She gazed in dread at the beautiful victorian mansion, with it's luscious driveway borders, only to be reminded yet again that she didn't fit in. She was just an ordinary girl with nothing to offer this ostentatious family. The thirty thousand pounds which she had inherited from her parent's estate was no match to the wealth of Scott's family. She'd never told Scott about the money. Appart from being her safety net, her 'get out of jail free card', she couldn't think of using it. In her guilty eyes, she saw it as blood money. In anycase, no way could it come anywhere close in replacing her long lost family.
'Oh, come in,' offered Mr Carter, as he answered the door; a pleasant enough man who was completely monopolised by his overbearing wife. Samantha followed Scott into the lounge. Opening the drinks cabinet and taking out a crystal decanter filled with whiskey, Mr Carter offered them both a drink. Luckily, they were not dining there tonight, having already eaten. Scott and Samantha sat side by side, on the sofa.
'So, darling...how is work at the moment,' enquired Mrs Carter.
'Very good Mother. Jack has offered me a pay rise this month.' was Scott's self-satisfied reply.
'Oh that's wonderful, darling,' replied Mrs Carter. 'And what about you Samantha...how's the shop? Where is it you work again?'
Samantha bristled, trying to think of a suitable retort. Scott's mother knew only too well that she worked in the local supermarket.
'Things are going well thanks. I've just learned how to role a joint actually!'
Alarm flew accross Mrs Carter's face as she looked questioningly at her beloved son. What did she mean by a joint? The only kind she knew of, she was ashamed to say, was a the type she has smoked during her hazy 'Flower Power' days.
'I meant a bacon joint,' sniggered Samantha, pleased to have the upper hand for once. 'They're quite hard to do actually.'
Mrs Carter sniffed and changed the subject. The main focus of the evening was discussing how well Scott's sister, louise was doing at the Royal Victoria Infirmary, where she was trainging to be a nurse. Suddenly, the focus was returned to Samantha.
'You had a grammar school education,' announced Scott's Mum. 'When are you going to get a proper job?' Samantha's eye brimmed with tears of indignation as she tried to think of a suitable reply.
'Oh, I'm just there until something better comes along,' and then looked towards Scott for support but none was forthcoming.
Samantha shouldn't have been surprised at such a rude and demeaning remark. Mrs Carter had no qualms at telling her if her hair was a mess, correcting her speech or making remarks about her manners. In all, Samantha knew without a shadow of a doubt that in Mrs Carter's eyes, Samantha was nowhere near good enough for her precious son. She was an unwanted distraction.
Monday, 4 February 2013
Chapter 3...an excerpt
'Hurry up Sammy,' bellowed Scott, as he brushed his jacket and trousers with the clothes brush his Mum had given him the previous Christmas. It wouldn't do at all to visit with even the smallest trace of fluff ; to ruin his immaculate appearance.
This was the time that Samantha dreaded the most. The weekly trip to visit Scott's parents was always a trial for her. Nevertheless, it had to be endured for peace and quiet at home. She couldn't decide what was worse, Scott's over bearing obsession to please his parents, or his Mother's constant snipes and critisisms.
Samantha rushed down the stairs, missed the last step and fell awkwardly on the floor. Scott looked at the crumpled heap with disdain.
'For goodness sake, stop pissing about and hurry up.'
Feeling foolish, Samantha dusted herself down and rubbed her arm which she had scraped along the banister rail. She mumbled an apology, grabbed her bag and followed Scott out of the front door. She gulped back the tears of humiliation and confusion; emotions which had been her close companions these days.
'Well, lock it then,' ordered Scott. 'Do you want us to get burgled?'
'Just a minute, Scott,' replied Samantha, as she fished about in the bottom of her bag. Finally, she found the keys and locked the door. Much to Scott's annoyance, she couldn't resist the urge to check again, for one final pull at the handle.
'For God sake, hurry up,' and then, as Samantha slid into the passenger seat, 'Now can we go?'
The red sports car purred into action as they pulled out of the driveway. Scott sped through the estate, while Samantha gripped the sides of her seat. Fast cars made her uneasy and he knew it.
'Please slow down,' she begged.
'Well, it'll be your fault if we have a prang. You always have to piss about when we go to see Mam and Dad.'
Rising panic spewed into her throat. She felt helpless yet strangely responsible. Wasn't it her fault after all? Just like last time when, through her own lack of thought and consideration, she'd been the cause of the fatal car crash which had wiped out her family.
She wished she could do better, please Scott instead of making him angry. If she tried harder, maybe they could go back to how it was in the beginning. Scott seemed to despise her, yet he wouldn't let her out of his sight. It felt at times like she only existed for his pleasure and comfort.
This was the time that Samantha dreaded the most. The weekly trip to visit Scott's parents was always a trial for her. Nevertheless, it had to be endured for peace and quiet at home. She couldn't decide what was worse, Scott's over bearing obsession to please his parents, or his Mother's constant snipes and critisisms.
Samantha rushed down the stairs, missed the last step and fell awkwardly on the floor. Scott looked at the crumpled heap with disdain.
'For goodness sake, stop pissing about and hurry up.'
Feeling foolish, Samantha dusted herself down and rubbed her arm which she had scraped along the banister rail. She mumbled an apology, grabbed her bag and followed Scott out of the front door. She gulped back the tears of humiliation and confusion; emotions which had been her close companions these days.
'Well, lock it then,' ordered Scott. 'Do you want us to get burgled?'
'Just a minute, Scott,' replied Samantha, as she fished about in the bottom of her bag. Finally, she found the keys and locked the door. Much to Scott's annoyance, she couldn't resist the urge to check again, for one final pull at the handle.
'For God sake, hurry up,' and then, as Samantha slid into the passenger seat, 'Now can we go?'
The red sports car purred into action as they pulled out of the driveway. Scott sped through the estate, while Samantha gripped the sides of her seat. Fast cars made her uneasy and he knew it.
'Please slow down,' she begged.
'Well, it'll be your fault if we have a prang. You always have to piss about when we go to see Mam and Dad.'
Rising panic spewed into her throat. She felt helpless yet strangely responsible. Wasn't it her fault after all? Just like last time when, through her own lack of thought and consideration, she'd been the cause of the fatal car crash which had wiped out her family.
She wished she could do better, please Scott instead of making him angry. If she tried harder, maybe they could go back to how it was in the beginning. Scott seemed to despise her, yet he wouldn't let her out of his sight. It felt at times like she only existed for his pleasure and comfort.
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