Writing Life
Don’t miss the 14th annual Smashwords’ Read An Ebook Week sale, running now through end of day Saturday, March 11th.
Browse over 110,000 deep-discounted titles. Discount levels range from 25% to 100%. Stop by and have a look if you want to support indie authors and at the same time discover new interesting books.
In case you are interested in any of my books or know someone who might enjoy them, you can download as many copies as you want, they are free during the promotion.
Happy reading!
The Siege of Mr Kahn’s Curry Shop – by Charlie Robinson
“How do you live a life when you don’t have a past? I need to know – for me.”
I was already familiar with Charlie Robinson’s storytelling, thoroughly enjoying his sense of humour and witty writing style on his blog. I already knew he was working on his first novel – two decades in the making, as he put it. Then, once I saw the cover, the title and the synopsis, I instantly wanted to read The Siege of Mr Kahn’s Curry Shop as I had a feeling it wouldn’t disappoint.
“This is life – sometimes we make a success of things and sometimes we don’t. More often than not, we don’t, but we carry on and we need to carry on without bearing a grudge.”
Well, I was right. I may have mentioned this before, I don’t particularly enjoy writing reviews. But I will occasionally share about fellow authors from our little WP community, writers whose work I appreciate.
“He felt afraid for the first time in his life and he guessed what it could be. He was afraid that now he had her, he could lose her.”
There is a sense of honesty and realism to Charlie Robinson’s writing which, together with all the twists and turns of the plot, makes you not want to put down the book. A person can be the hero and the villain at the same time, depending on the chosen perspective, young Billy Lynch will learn to accept. Complex characters gradually reveal layers to their personality and the circumstances behind their actions and development. Whether their image changes for the better or for the worse, none of them is one-dimensional or boring.
“She hadn’t experienced this before: the fights, the never-ending confrontations between Lard and himself, the racist and homophobic violence in town on Saturday nights. He hadn’t allowed her to see his struggle, trying to bring some decency to it all. He was expecting her to have the same philosophy as he had.”
In many ways, this is a coming of age story, and many readers (such as myself) might find it relatable, even if they reached their maturity in a different decade and/or place. It’s also a good reminder that many aspects of our society – which we now take for granted – were very-very different until not that long ago.
“Billy Lynch was responsible for every bad thing that had ever happened to him.”
As I don’t want to give away any interesting plot details of Billy Lynch’s adventure, I will only add that it’s worth giving this book a chance and I’ll leave you with the author’s synopsis.
Thank you for an interesting, entertaining read, Charlie. Keep on writing! One question, though… will there be a sequel? (Hoping for a positive answer… 🙂 )
“We can let the past rule us, or we can look to the future.”
Author’s Synopsis
Bradford in 1974.
Billy Lynch wants a better life. He also wants the truth.
Why did his father leave fourteen years ago?
Where did he go?
Why is the local drug dealer supporting a National Front march?
Does the stunning Auntie Riya really have the answers, can Billy trust her?
Billy’s love for Mr Khan’s daughter, Alina is discovered by the local skinhead leader, Lard.
This sparks a chain of disastrous events and Billy is drawn back into a past he was trying to escape. The consequences of one kiss, mean nothing will ever be the same again.
Just Before Sunrise – by Carol Balawyder
I’ve said this before, and I will say it again – every book by Carol Balawyder that I’ve read was a treat. Just Before Sunrise, her most recent crime novel, was no exception. The fact that it took me so long to share about it reflects poorly on my time management skills, not on the book’s merits.
“When the person you love the most in the world dies, your heart breaks from loneliness. Nothing can take away that kind of lonely.”
Regardless of the genre she chooses, Carol Balawyder is a fine observer and analyst of human nature, creating deep, complex characters struggling with life’s adversities and difficult choices. Just Before Sunrise is no exception, the compelling flow of the novel enthralling the reader.
“What it often comes down to is that these women are afraid of having to face their loneliness. They prefer to put up with the hurt and betrayal than have to live alone.”
It’s not easy to write a gripping crime story when revealing early on “who dunnit”, but Carol manages it beautifully. It’s not only about murder. It’s about everyone involved directly and indirectly – a colourful, unexpected mix of characters – about what makes them who they are, their history, traumas, hopes and feelings. So if you enjoy a good crime story, Just Before Sunrise is a captivating novel worth considering.
Author’s Synopsis
Nadine, tired of running her call-girl agency has upgraded to gold digger as she finds the perfect rich widower to marry. Discovering that her wealthy widower is an abuser she seduces his stepson, Charlie, to plot her husband’s murder.
But things don’t go as planned and soon she is turning to her experience hiring young call-girls to find the perfect girl to save her from going to prison…
Homeless Maya is drifting on the streets, grieving the recent loss of her mother.
When she is offered the opportunity to prepare a lake-side house to be used as a half-way home for delinquent girls, she doesn’t think twice.
She soon falls for Charlie, the attractive boy next door, who has a seriously dark side. She is drawn into his murderous schemes, doing anything he asks her to, risking her own safety for the promise of a future with him. When she finds herself party to murder, and she realises he is more concerned with his older female accomplice than with her, she must learn to trust her instincts and use all of her courage to get out of their trap alive.
As a subplot there is the rocky romantic relationship between an older woman and a younger man who become involved in investigating the murder for which young Maya is accused of committing.
Just Before Sunrise is a story about loss and survival. About loneliness, betrayals and deadly desires.
The direct way proved to be the easiest approach, yet again.
“The hell with it all… I need a break.”
“Meaning?…”
“I’m going to the mountains for a couple of days. Do you have any plans for tomorrow or could you be persuaded to keep me company for a change of scenery?” He paused, waiting for a reply. “You can have your own room. No expectations, no pressure. Just two people having a couple of days off from their lives. I’m leaving anyway, I set everything up already, but I just don’t want to be alone.” Continue reading “Parallel Lives – Sample Fragment 33”
The whole town may not be entirely that way, but they are, Amalia thought as she was heading towards their table that evening in the club. She felt she would fit right in, she would be accepted instantly by all of them, because she was young, beautiful, vibrant and free.
t’s odd how some would find this so promiscuous, and I feel as though I’m coming back home after a long journey. Promiscuity implies deception, hiding away and shame, but look at them, they want nothing more than to be seen how proud they are to be themselves…
Robert stood up as soon as he noticed Amalia arriving and the others turned their heads instantly, admiring her and envying him – she was there for him tonight. But it didn’t mean they couldn’t try their luck too, some of the men thought for a moment, drinking their whiskies. Wanting something and just knowing you are daring enough to reach out and take it is one of the most exquisite types of freedom. And having an impact in the world of such people is a special task, few can do it instinctively. Continue reading “Parallel Lives – Sample Fragment 28”
I’ll keep this short and sweet.
If you enjoyed the fragments from my latest book, Frames, if you think it might be an interesting read for you or someone you know, visit my Amazon page and purchase as many copy copies as you like. The e-book version is FREE today!
Happy reading!
“You do realise that’s a person you’re talking about, right?”
“Yes, and the person in question is completely aware of my feelings, I don’t pretend he means much to me, just as you don’t pretend not to be married. There’s a difference, however: he knows exactly how things stand between the two of us, he knows exactly who I am and what my conditions are, and he has the choice of accepting them or not. He decided he was desperate enough in order to accept anything, as long as once in a while there’s room for him in my life as well; but he is free to leave whenever he wants. Can you say the same about your wife, though? Does she know exactly who you are? Does she get the choice of accepting you or not, or does she just have to live with a nice, cosy lie about what her marriage is?”
She was right… or maybe she wasn’t… He didn’t know anymore, that kind of questions hadn’t been tormenting him for too long a time. Continue reading “Parallel Lives – Sample Fragment 14”
Afterwards? After what? The fear was back, suffocating her a little bit, pointing out to the fact that she was in a car with a virtual stranger, having no idea where they were heading, relying strictly on her instincts telling her nothing bad would happen and that the thrill she was feeling should be that of the new, not of fear. She had the innate ability to avoid men that no woman would be safe with and her instincts were always correct in assessing the men with whom she interacted, so she breathed in and closed her eyes tightly for another moment, taking the leap of the person who knows they are always right, the leap from fear to almost forced excitement.
Let’s just see if he proves to be gas station coffee – a colossal disappointment – or Italian espresso… She was annoyed by the tacky gesture of offering her that lousy cup of coffee, but the fact that he clearly had something in mind, he had already planned the afternoon, intrigued her, and that was much more relevant at the moment. She desperately needed to be intrigued, she desperately needed a man who could amuse her in any other way than by prostrating himself at her feet like a big, sheepish dog. Continue reading “Parallel Lives – Sample Fragment 9”
“Do you have any plans for this afternoon or could we meet for coffee?”
She liked that he hadn’t even alluded to the summer job as a pretext for him to see her, even if his call came as a bit of a surprise – she was pretty sure he would call her, she was pretty sure he was interested in the same kind of interaction she was thinking of, but he was clearly a lot more determined than her and there was no room for doubts as far as he was concerned. She was quite sure of knowing what she wanted too, but the difference consisted in her lack of actual experience on that territory – there are steps that might be more difficult to take than others and she had been oscillating on a very thin line ever since they had met, trying to decide whether to jump or not. Continue reading “Parallel Lives – Sample Fragment 7”
There’s always a story behind writing a book. But sometimes there’s a story behind reading one as well, and in many cases it has something to do with timing.
“Low on words today
want to rest flat in the sun
watch birds rise and play”
“You mean you never loved me?”
He interrupted her again, resorting to his old ways. Or maybe those were still his ways… Whatever the truth was, his old behaviour triggered something in her, the standard response, her own typical old and destructive behaviour in response to his. But she knew better now. She acknowledged the impulse and extinguished it, the way she wished she could have done so many times in what seemed a different lifetime. Closing her eyes, she could envision the children they used to be and wished she could take away their pain. Now, however, they were individually responsible for what they were; and while she felt sorry for the boy he’d been, she lacked any sort of empathy for the man he was.
A glowing review is a delight for any author. But receiving such a review from a writer you admire is a priceless treat. Thank you for your beautiful words, Carol!
I’ve always liked Ana Linden’s books. She’s very good at getting inside her characters’ heads.
Frames consists of four short character driven stories. These are not ordinary characters and through their flaws Ana Linden gives us insight into relationships and human nature.
The subjects of her stories range from the damaged educational system, the cruelty of abuse, loneliness, losers and guilt.
[…]
Linden’s writing is not ordinary. She is unafraid to show the rawness of human nature in a unique literary voice. She is an artist using words as her medium. It is reflective writing. The stories in Frames are the kind that you want to savor and allow the beauty of the writing sink in. There is no sermonizing in these stories and we understand what is not being said. This makes for quite satisfying reading.
(Carol Balawyder)
Visit Carol Balawyder’s site for the full review of Frames and if you have a moment to spare, check out her books as well. She is such a gifted writer!
It’s a matter of attitude, his brother told him. They can sense losers and they’ll eventually dump you, so you might as well treat them like shit from the beginning, he continued his lecture on seduction. As far as treating women like shit, his brother did live by that rule. He usually empathized with the girls his brother dated –even now that he was forty, the girls he dated were rarely over twenty.
He empathized, because he saw those girls being treated the same way he was treated by everyone, less then, somehow handicapped, inferior human beings. Then he got angry with all of them, the ones he met, those he’d never know, but who flocked around his brother and other men who behaved the same way. Most of these girls were beautiful, educated, sophisticated, yet they allowed to be treated like dirt… They allowed to be lied to, ignored, used, and when they were cast away, they kept coming back for more abuse.
Yes, he was lonely and he was jealous with his wife… and it was not that trivial mundane kind of jealousy afflicting so many other men. He took off his glasses and started to slowly and thoroughly clean them… nervous behaviour, or rather, behaviour meant to disguise his nervousness and buy him time to calm down. But she wasn’t there to ask him why he was nervous. No, he didn’t feel like going home, just like he didn’t feel like walking through her uncared-for vegetable garden, just like…
The door flung open, quick heavy footsteps accompanied by a young self-absorbed boy invading his reflective solitude.
Much as she hated to admit it, there was a certain comfort and complicity in that room… two old friends catching up, picking up where they left off. Fifteen years apart couldn’t erase the familiarity of growing up together, of knowing what had shaped them and the marks they’d left on each other’s soul. Certain people can become a part of you, when they’re your support system and you’re theirs, when you’ve shared the best and the worst of moments. That was why severing all ties with him wouldn’t have been her first choice… That was also why she had to do it, when she understood it was the only way he could have a future with somebody else. But she never explained her decision, nor did she even announce it. Instead, she disappeared. Ghosting wasn’t a coined term back then, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t happening.
Hopes and dreams weren’t for the likes of him; every time he forgot what his mother taught him, he needed to be put in his place… and life never failed to do so. Nevertheless, anger started to bubble inside him. Much as he tried to tell himself otherwise, he still felt he didn’t deserve to be overlooked this time. Moreover, his mother’s words were gaining a grotesquely unfair tone and his brother’s haunting image infuriated him even more. Exhaustion got the best of him, but his sleep was fraught with frustration distorted memories shaped into nightmares. Nothing makes for a scarier nightmare than reality.
Frames by Ana Linden is now available on Amazon.
That sort of pressure can break a couple and words like divorce or separation were starting to explode in the middle of passive aggressive conflicts. They still loved each other, they still wanted to spend their old age in each other’s company. But in spite of how they were perceived by the children they taught, they weren’t that old yet; and sometimes routine and frustration are a lot easier to face alone rather than have them constantly mirrored by the person next to you, feeling guilty for their unhappiness and blaming them for yours.
After reading Honey Ko, William Pennington’s debut novel and “a labor of love thirty-five years in the making” as the author notes, the first thing that comes to mind is, please don’t make us wait this long for your next book!
“Time passes, and grinds mountains into rubble and erases history into dimly recalled, tentative tales of memory, but it cannot erase the memory of the love a man and a woman feel but once, the love of a lifetime, the love of the ages. The love for which the heart burgeons into a breathless burst of yearning and passion and tenderness and fulfillment. The human love.”
Pennington, William C.. Honey Ko: A Novel
Love is indeed the keyword and main theme in Honey Ko, the complex, skilfully penned characters struggling to understand it, find it, preserve it and survive it. Heart-warming, intertwining love stories surpass the limitations of time, life and death, providing a fascinating, in-depth analysis of the happiness, sorrow and motivation behind the central life force this feeling represents.
It’s not an easy task to describe love, its torments or passion, but Mr. Pennington manages it beautifully and eloquently, in countless creative ways abounding in inspired imagery. Delicate moments and feelings are vastly explored, stereotypes are shattered, painful memories dealt with as the main character discovers himself, tirelessly questioning his feelings and motivation in order to learn what he needs from the woman he loves and how he needs to love her. From an all-consuming, fairy-tale kind of love to a more realistic and mature version, the characters’ journey makes for an enthralling, compelling read.
Artful raconteur, Will Pennington (author of Writers Envy blog) puts his own experience to good use while describing in great detail the exotic setting and the interactions between men and women from different cultures, with varied backgrounds and aspirations, and the way these aspects influence their romantic choices.
The multiple narrators create a well-rounded, dynamic, witty story, which certainly doesn’t lack suspense and twists. Nature itself, together with the exotic beauty of the Philippines and Hawaii, enhance the thrill of this novel, making it a deep, must-read, feel-good book, perfect for the summer ahead.
“When God created love, he created it from a perfect form. The love between Susanna and me was that form. All other love was a copy of the love we shared.”
I’ve set myself a small blogging goal for this first month of summer. I’m not much of a review writer – in fact, I thoroughly avoid it – but I do want to share a few thoughts about two or three books I read recently.
As a self-published writer, I know how much reviews matter to indie authors. Yet, I must admit, I’m still uncomfortable reviewing other people’s books. Just because I like or dislike something, that doesn’t mean, everyone has to feel the same, I keep reminding myself. I also need to remind myself that a review and literary analysis are two very different animals, so I don’t fall into old habits. But once in a while, especially when it comes to fellow bloggers whose writing I appreciate, I can’t help talking about their books. So I hope you enjoy their works as much as I did, should you decide to give them a try.
On a different note… Yes, my friends, I finally went and did it. Yours not-so-crazy-about-social-media truly has joined Twitter – @AnaLindenAuthor ! I still have mixed feelings about the event, but I’m giving it a try. So be patient with me and if you also have a Twitter account, let me know and maybe I’ll see you there as well.
I had been looking forward to that getaway for months – a trip I wasn’t sure would materialize – and as I was driving that early morning, it was finally beginning to feel real. It was real. That patch of beautiful wild flowers featured in my title story, Frames… well, it was also real. Everything else is fiction, but the flowers were real, an out of place wonder covering a mound of dirt in an otherwise prosaic field by the freeway.
Some images stay with you… their impact makes you want to find out the story behind them or at least create one such story. By the time I reached my destination, a rough outline of a nameless story had already taken shape in my mind. But I had recently finished Albatross and needed a bit of a writing break, so I knew it was a story for another time.
A shot would easily take that patch of flowers out of its natural context and create an entirely different reality for the unknowing observer in another context. It could suddenly be a dreamy field of wild flowers instead of some wild flowers on top of dirt by the freeway. Reality reframed or just one frame of a bigger, more complex reality? The answer is a personal subjective choice.
Coincidentally, I took some poppy shots the other day. What an unexpected find, I thought to myself, blooming poppies in the wind, with the beach, a calm sea and a blue sky on the background. Some of you also liked the one I already posted. All sorts of positive words come to mind when thinking of those shots, especially considering the recent lockdown months. But… but what you don’t see in any of those photos, what I carefully avoided to include in any of those frames is the large pile of rubbish only a few steps away from those beautiful flowers. Thinking back, perhaps I should have included it, but I was too taken by the angle excluding it.
My point is, we go about doing this in many, if not all, aspects of our lives. We like to think we see the full picture, we have the full truth, when in fact we only have instances, a few frames on which we choose or are forced to build our judgement, conclusions and decisions. Sometimes we get it right, even by mistake… other times we ignore the background, we find a way to exclude the ugliness from the picture in order not to have to deal with it.
The same happens to my characters. They’re neither picture-perfect, nor horrid, but they might appear to be either one or the other, depending on the moment one interacts with them. But once the angle becomes wider and the background less blurry, does their behaviour become understandable and acceptable? That, too, is a personal, subjective choice…
“Help yourself. You still smoke?”
Pointless question, stating the obvious, so it would fill the air between them… He tilted his head apologetically and smiled back, that embarrassed half a smile of his, when she’d catch him doing something she didn’t approve of and she’d point it out. He lit up and inhaled deeply, turning to ashes a good portion of the cigarette. He smoked when he was nervous, she remembered; and when he was upset, and when he was afraid… He smoked all the time, a lot, and the smell of smoke mixed with his aftershave used to cling to her hair. She’d come home from their dates and feel he was still there, in the room with her, when she brushed her hair before going to bed. Who was he now?
Frames by Ana Linden is now available on Amazon.
Don’t tell anyone about this, his father’s words ring in his ears as though he were sitting next to him. He then got out of the car and asked his youngest son to take his place behind the wheel. You’re the first one I’m teaching how to drive, remember this, but it has to be our secret for now. He was sixteen and his older brother, seventeen at the time, was soon going to be old enough to get his driver’s license… yet he and not his brother was the first one to be taught. His father’s words had a magical effect, suddenly erasing the morning’s tears and humiliation. For once he was ahead of his brother, for once he was the more important one… probably the only time in his life. He spent the rest of the day driving around the deserted industrial yard, improving his skills, absorbing every piece of information his father had to impart. You’ll be a great driver, son.
Frames by Ana Linden is now available on Amazon.
The two young men look each other in the eye for a quick moment. Worlds colliding, brought together by a common surge of arrogance – it becomes one of them, it makes the other look even more uncouth. One smells like expensive aftershave, drives a German luxury car and looks impeccable in his designer clothes, next to his model of a girlfriend. The other one reeks of manure after cleaning the stables, wears dingy clothes and shoes, and his hair is a mess of unwashed uncombed curls. They are only a few years apart… they are worlds apart… with no common ground other than this temporary, illusory dimension. How could they ever really see each other? Why should they?
Here I am, once more… I mentioned working on a new book, as some of you might recall, but I didn’t dwell on it. Well, in spite of various changes and challenges, I can now relax and enjoy, because I managed to stick with the schedule and it’s finally ready!
In case you noticed that countdown on my site and wondered about it, that’s what it’s about. Frames, my new book, is already available for pre-orders on Amazon and it will be published on May 15th. That’s also when the printed version will become available (click on the image).
Maudlin as it may sound, before I go on and tell you what the book is all about, I’d like to thank you for your support and encouraging words over the years, ever since I’ve started this blog. As many of you know from your own writing experience, this sort of warm, inspiring and supportive blogging community means a lot to an indie author.
I know it’s customary to do a cover reveal first, to create all sorts of buzz about the book, building suspense before the big publishing day. All’s well and good in theory, but promoting the book – relevant as that may be – is the part of self-publishing I loathe. So there I go again, revealing everything at once.
I’ve put together four stories this time, not exactly short ones, but no novellas either. Hopefully the common denominators will become clear as you read them, but I’ll let you be the judge of that. All I can say is, once they took shape in my mind, I couldn’t separate these stories.
What does one do when life comes to a hopeless standstill and the desired fresh start is not what it seems? Four enthralling, emotional short stories capture diverse characters who are stuck, desperately searching either for a new beginning or for an end to their misery. Opportunity presents itself under the unexpected guise of theft, murder and suicide intertwined with love, friendship and generosity. In need of purpose, as well as affection and passion, they are torn between their conflicting desires and moral values, often finding solace and support in unexpected, shocking situations and people. Can an assassin love? Is one’s death someone else’s fortune? Should outcasts dare to dream of a better future and should the past be put behind? These are merely a few of the questions tormenting them, pushing them to honestly acknowledge and assess their needs and their existence.
I’ll stop here, in an attempt to keep it short and sweet. I’ll explain my choice of title and I’ll share excerpts from each story over the following days. Hopefully, you’ll find them enjoyable.
The woman in the mirror wasn’t the one she remembered. No matter how hard she struggled, she would never see that reflection again. Time had a perverted way of leaving scars on her body in spite of all her best efforts. Turning slowly, analysing every particle projected in the horridly honest mirror, she felt her spirits lifted by the image of a still beautiful, mature woman. Her thighs were almost cellulite free… and her stomach, almost flat again… her behind was no longer as firm, but the right pair of jeans made it look just as luscious… her breasts had definitely seen better days, but she would do something about that as soon as possible. It was a game of make-believe these days, she thought to herself. Continue reading “Glass Slippers and Stilettos – …Or For Worse (Fragment)”
The frantic scrolling stops abruptly as the busy fingers’ and blue eyes’ attention is now required by the buzzing phone. A large smile lights up Regina’s face, a languorous sigh accompanying her reply. She had spent the entire morning trying not to think that the text might never arrive and now her patience was finally being rewarded.
The picture on the desk caught her eye in spite of all her rushed gestures. It had been such a wonderful day! Everything she had ever dreamt of, really… look how beautiful she was, she had the most expensive dress and most extravagant wedding anyone in her group of friends and acquaintances had ever seen… and on top of everything, the man she was marrying was so wealthy and handsome… A real prince had come to finally rescue her from an average existence and she would not let this one get away. Continue reading “Glass Slippers and Stilettos – For Better… (Fragment)”
Many of the Smashwords authors wanted to reach out and offer their help through their work. They wanted to do their part and use the power of their books to help mitigate the emotional and economic hardship faced by citizens of every country, many of whom are now forced to stay home and self-isolate. As a result, the site is running a sale (March 20 – May 31) so the readers can download as many discounted or free books as they want. Hopefully you, your friends and your family might find strength, comfort and enjoyment in their works. Continue reading “Smashwords Authors Give Back”
The key didn’t turn and she opened the unlocked door without giving it any thought. She often forgot to lock it, so… Clickety-clack, clickety-clack on the hardwood floor and then the high heels flew in a corner, preceded only by the laptop case, which landed with a thud. Oh well, it’s just the work computer – what are they going to do if it breaks anyway, give her a newer and better one?… Her personal mobile phone was another story though, that one found a nice, cosy resting place when carefully placed on the hall table. Curling and stretching her toes happy to have escaped the restrictive pumps, her feet started blindly feeling around the cold floor, reaching for the comfort of those favourite slippers. They weren’t there. Continue reading “Glass Slippers and Stilettos – Regina and the Engagement Rings (Fragment)”
Damn it, it’s all his fault… But the person Regina had in mind in her state of shock was not the driver of that other car. Now I won’t get to see him again, not this night… Or will I? An idea occurred to the woman as her trembling fingers were fishing for her work phone in the purse on the seat on her right. Involved in an accident on my way to your place. Need you. Pls. This should get him to come over and see her… Continue reading “Glass Slippers and Stilettos – Driving Regina (Fragment)”
Like any other long-term couple, they had discussed marriage. The fact that they had spent more time apart than together, bickering and disparaging each other was generally an irrelevant matter to both of them. They’d swear to never reconcile again, professing their mutual loathing and would occasionally yell out their indifference in hurtful, offending words. But everything would be forgiven and forgotten in a few weeks, when they’d be back together again. Behaving as though nothing had happened came naturally to both of them. Continue reading “Glass Slippers and Stilettos – Regina Gets Engaged (Fragment)”
It was a particularly beautiful summer when they met, one filled with sweet poetry of hope and unrequited dreams, when the remains of old loves become the seeds of new ones and the magic of a sunset can make everything seem possible… even for a beautiful, intelligent and independent young woman like Regina to fall in love with a Nice Guy like him. Tall, with deep, dreaming blue eyes and a kind smile, elegant in his middle management suit, he couldn’t resist consoling Regina right after she presented her resignation two days into the trial period for a new job. Who could have resisted those beautiful doe eyes of hers, mystified by tears of despair she was trying so hard to stop from rolling down her pale, silky cheeks? Continue reading “Glass Slippers and Stilettos – Regina and the Nice Guy (Fragment)”
Eeeh! That hurt! The high-pitched moan escaped her lips as soon as the woman in a white uniform removed the first strip of wax. It’ll be worth it! Pain followed by pleasure, it’s always worth it, she had to remind herself. As the wax touched her skin again and again, she felt the need to congratulate herself on the wise decision of taking the day off. She needed a few hours of pampering before the big trip, a reprieve from all the stress, so she could get ready to fully enjoy the weekend’s pleasures. But time was also required to clear her mind and figure out the optimal plan, that perfect balance between delectable debauchery and worthwhile, career-oriented depravity. Experience had taught her men were more open and supportive of her cause in an intimate environment and she was relying on this opportunity to reacquaint herself with an old friend. Continue reading “Glass Slippers an Stilettos – Regina Experiments (Fragment)”
It starts off light, little things here and there, which only make you believe she is simply a more forgetful person than others. An assignment not carried out in time leads way to an almost hysterical reaction as she is blaming everybody for not telling her she was the one supposed to do it. Nobody can possibly imagine she would react that way if indeed she had known and forgotten about it. That is, until the situation becomes a recurrent event… because she does indeed forget, she forgets she was told in the first place, then she forgets having forgotten. Therefore it never happened. Continue reading “Glass Slippers and Stilettos – Regina and Selective Memory (Fragment)”
She is friendlier than anybody would have expected a pretty girl to know how to be. She is incredibly hardworking, even when she doesn’t really do anything right. But most importantly, she is so deliciously vulnerable. The one everybody expected to be so smug and conceited is actually so surprisingly modest and demurred, even insecure at times, her big eyes filling with tears when she does something wrong. So nobody can resist helping her, nobody can bring themselves to criticize her, thus risking to cover that delicate doll face of hers with a dark shadow of regret, insecurity and fear. It’s ok, don’t worry, we’ll fix this…. No, no, no, it’s not your fault, you’ll learn, we all make mistakes, especially early on. Continue reading “Glass Slippers and Stilettos – Belated Introduction (Fragment)”
Alone once more, with nobody to share her tragedy, having to face and accept the separate beds situation, Regina also has to accept taunting memories that refuse to stay selectively lost. Inconsiderate has no knowledge of it, but when initially leaving her for not being appealing enough, he became an influential factor in Regina’s evolution. Non-revealing, somewhat blend, often boring outfits used to be her signature style. That’s how you get a husband, she had been taught; she was also quite sure her mere existence would be reason enough for any man to reach ecstasy. On top of everything else, she had the upper hand, she looked the part of the moral compass she believed herself to be, thus feeling entitled to pass judgement on any other woman. Continue reading “Glass Slippers and Stilettos – Regina and Separate Beds (Fragment)”
… the writing game, that is.
I know, I know, ‘tis the season, but I’m not the New Year’s resolutions kind of person, so this endeavour doesn’t fall under that category. As it happens, this January is simply a good time to start focusing on my writing again.
I’ve made plans for it in 2019. I’ve written an outline. I even have a title and a book cover in mind. I’ve already started to work on the project and paused over the holidays. But come January, I would start writing again, I told myself. I set a deadline for myself and I estimated how much and how often I could write, barring unexpected circumstances. Well, we all know we can always count on the unexpected to take place; and I don’t want to force myself into writing more than I feel I can handle or to dedicate all my spare time to it; but it’s good to have a plan, that works for me.
I can still remember the noise so well. There’s a specific noise a human body makes by bumping into an old door, when late at night it tries to instinctively make its way to a flat, after having had too much to drink in some forsaken pub. Continue reading “Freedom (Fragment 2)”
It should have been a boy. A boy still had a chance. It only made sense to be that way. Her innocence robbed from her without warning, by a force bigger than her, while her kind, loving fiancé had no idea about what was happening, the shame of carrying a child out of wedlock… it simply had to be a boy.
But a girl… She held her daughter in her arms, overwhelmed by an unknown wonderful warmth, torn apart by feelings she didn’t know anyone could experience. Continue reading “Mother (Fragment 2)”
We were talking about pillows while he had me in his arms, in a tight embrace, skin on skin. It was summer, warm and terribly humid, and I understood he didn’t care for such heat. Yet he stubbornly refused to let me go. Continue reading “Us (Fragment 2)”
I happen to like December and all its seasonal frenzy – well, most of it, anyway… December is also the month I started this blog. Pure coincidence 🙂 . Six years ago, I was trying to self-publish Parallel Lives around Christmas time and in my mind, getting the blog set up for it was a must.
You know how it goes, the best-laid plans… Truth be told, Parallel Lives wasn’t exactly one of my better laid plans, it was something that took shape along the way, and I simply needed to go through with it. The book ended up being published a few weeks later, and my blog quickly veered off its promotional path, becoming a hodgepodge of moments, photos, thoughts and fiction. That’s just life, we write our story as we go, from one second to the next.
Meanwhile, my blog has developed a few traditions of its own. One of them is my December token of appreciation. You can download Parallel Lives and Glass Slippers and Stilettos for free until December 24th. Feel free to share the links below with anybody you think might enjoy the books or offer them a copy as a gift. Enjoy!
Last but not least, thank you for bearing with me for yet another year and for sharing your stories and thoughts on your own blogs, allowing the reader to glance into your souls. Have a nice December, everyone!
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/396169
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/ana+linden?_requestid=538455
https://www.kobo.com/ww/en/search?query=Ana%20Linden&fcsearchfield=Author
and on iBooks, of course.
(Albatross giveaway on Amazon coming soon!)
Young, beautiful and independent Amalia refuses to apply traditional concepts to any of her relationships with men; therefore commitment, marriage and couple routine are not part of her vision on life. Cynical and highly aware of the realities of an unromanticized modern world devoid of long lasting feelings, Amalia appears to only seek the promise of a few moments of fleeting happiness next to the men in her life. The opposite sex is often no more than a refuge from all mundane problems and deceptions, so the young woman stubbornly refuses to settle down with any of the men who try to win her affection – that would only mean the death of her soul, independence and character
Regina is the woman everybody loves to hate and hates to love. Behind the gorgeous, demurred façade lurk selfish ambition, ignorance and a desperate need to find her happily ever after. The search for a man to rescue her and make her dreams come true follows a sinuous, often obscure, but entertaining path. Regina may try to deny it, but she is no innocent princess, Prince Charming can be a beast in disguise and modern-day happy endings are nothing like their fairy tale version.
The brief account of the events leading to that moment was over and the lady in front of him was silent now, waiting for him to react. Statuesque and commanding, yet somehow maternal, that’s how the officer’s wife appeared to him that evening. Continue reading “Neighbours (Fragment 2)”
Our souls had dark sides too, we discovered up there. And black was the colour of death, I quickly remembered. We all knew what he was going to do. Continue reading “Grey (Fragment 2)”
There’s nothing worse than a good man – a good man who thinks it’s enough to be a good man.
She touches the words on the first page, fingers taking in the essence of their own writing. Has he started with the first page or has he pried right in the middle of her inky thoughts? Continue reading “Albatross (Fragment 2)”
The inheritance was the desperately needed answer. However, the question only dared word itself the moment I found the solution. Of course my first impulse was to flee. For so long, I had dreamt of seeing and experiencing places without having to tailor my desires in order to fit a schedule, a person or financial considerations. Continue reading “Freedom (Fragment 1)”
He puts his hand between her legs… she needs to prove it…. Her tensed muscles try to stop him, but he’s much stronger. He pulls her near, his left hand on the nape of her neck, in her hair, pulling and squeezing. His mouth finds hers and for what feels like an endless moment she lets him do whatever he pleases… because she doesn’t know anything anymore… or maybe it’s because she’s a girl and that’s what girls like her are supposed to do. Continue reading “Mother (Fragment 1)”
“I’m stealing all your pillows while you’re sleeping, you’ll see. Now that you’ve got me, you don’t need them anymore anyway.”
In fact, I needed a lot more than a pillow between the two of us. He managed to get so much closer than I would have wished… Continue reading “Us (Fragment 1)”
People come together under most unexpected of circumstances. Sometimes love unites them; but there are also those times when hatred and revenge forge the strongest connections.
***
A moan escaped from the thrashed creature, but no eyes turned into that direction.
“He killed them…” the professor cried. “Do you think I have any moral holdback about hurting a man who can’t defend himself? I don’t give a fuck, not after that night. He killed them… he killed a pregnant woman and her unborn child… that’s all I have left, the hope to get my hands on him…”
The heart-breaking lament died out, the professor’s voice breaking down in tears as the officer’s wife stood in front of him. Her big, kind, motherly eyes were somehow controlling his glance, he realized, bringing it back from the object of his rage, bringing him back from his own blinding pain. Continue reading “Neighbours (Fragment 1)”
Note – Grey is the story closest to my heart from Albatross…. because Grey is a part of me. While all the other short stories are pure fiction, this one is based on some of my childhood memories. It’s a personal touch, a glimpse of nostalgia, a part of me that I wanted to share with my readers. It’s also the story that sparked this book, the one I was referring to when sharing what started this particular writing project.
***
It wasn’t bad. It was happy. It was life. We were children and we were never told grey was supposed to be bad. Grey was childhood. Grey was us in our purest form. We never denied it and we never minded it, because we never knew it.
We became grey those lazy, endless summer afternoons. Continue reading “Grey (Fragment 1)”
Author’s Note – When a relationship gradually suffocates the partners’ identity, the two can either find individual ways to survive or fight as a couple. Deciding what kind of betrayal is worse or whose fault is greater may not always be an option.
***
“The albatross still haunting her as she was heading home with her newly purchased purple notebook, she could no longer fight the fact that it was still too early. The time for her to forget and to give up on life hadn’t come yet. She was still young. There was still time. All was not lost, she was not lost… Continue reading “Albatross (Fragment 1)”
It was her way of saying a final goodbye to the man who could no longer bear her independent attitude and her refusal to hide the fact that she was doing better than him. Amalia had been there for the beginning of each of his projects, yet she could never bring herself to see them through next to him, because the woman knew he was no longer able to succeed. Continue reading “Parallel Lives – Sample Fragment 105”
The spell had broken the moment the scent of his skin stopped having an intoxicating effect on her senses. They were not a perfect match anymore, either chemical or rational; and now material things started to matter, as she couldn’t stop thinking about his shoes, that embarrassing symbol of his constant failure. She wanted a man who could earn and keep her respect, one she would feel proud to have in her life, not the weak shadow of such an individual making her feel ashamed of him. She was neither ready, nor able to submit to Adam and give up all she thought she deserved, she was still too young, too stubborn and too strong for that; she was not yet able to give up any faint hope for the slight possibility of success, happiness, power or glamour in favour of certain dull shabbiness next to him
Continue reading “Parallel Lives – Sample Fragment 104”
Ana Linden 
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