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The Lost Daughter- Chapter One


 

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I have the HONOUR of hosting up and coming author ELLA GREY on her first stop of her blog tour.  Her book What a Way to Start the Day, Is now available for pre-sale on Omnilit.  For her blog tour she decided to put up select chapters of her new story, The Lost Daughter. Read Chapter One here today on my blog and then Chapter Two on my friend, Jen Wylie’s Blog!  If you want to keep reading, you’ll have to follow the story from blog to blog to blog!  Give it a read, and I’m sure you’ll see why Ella Grey was picked up by Echelon Press.  Enjoy my friends!

 

 

The Lost Daughter

Chapter One

Part One

I’ve always had nightmares.

If you had seen what I had seen you would have them too. The setup was always the same. I was in a room carved into the middle of a cave. Laid out there was enough room to see that I was the center of something that could have passed for a morbid clock face. Twelve slabs of rock, twelve bodies in various states of decay. I had seen Dad as I’d been dragged in.

From the look on his face he could have been sleeping. It was only by looking lower to the messy blood stained hole that you knew that he wouldn’t be waking up. Above each of their heads was the red mass of muscle that was the human heart. The urge to fight left me in a wave. These were the days before I knew that I was a witch. Five years ago, I was just like any other fifteen year old girl. It’s hard to believe that life was ever that simple.

I was half lead, half dragged to the slab in the center, number thirteen. It was only after Thomas rescued me and I’d been safety hidden away in a police station I’d become hysterical. They’d sedated me after I’d tried to claw out my eyes, the image of my Dad on that cold stone slab haunted me to this day..

That was the funny thing about dreams. They didn’t always play out events the way you remembered them. My nightmares always played out the, what if? What if Thomas had been late? What if he had never shown up at all?

A shadow fell over me. I looked up into a pair of dark inhuman eyes hidden behind a mask. Gripping my face with a gloved and he turned it from side to side, studying me. After that was done he left, eventually returning with a steel container. He opened it and I was hit by an unfamiliar smell, as he held my head still, he dipped in a finger and drew something on my forehead. The substance had been thick and it left clots of something that later I’d found out was made up of the blood of the earlier victims. The man had then moved to the side and had been joined by six others. All of them were dressed the same, red robes and black masks that covered the entire face. Their hands seemed to snake out, holding my legs, arms and head. At the time I had been terrified, where they planning on raping me first? The man that marked me now stood between my spread legs. I remembered being fully dressed the day they grabbed me but dreams were tricky things. Sometimes the situation would be warped by my mind and I would appear naked, even more vulnerable than I’d actually been. He climbed onto the stone slab with me and it was always at that moment I saw the ornamental knife that had been tucked between a rope belt and his robes.

It had been right about now that Thomas had came in, all guns a blazing with his team to rescue me. I remembered this and so did my dream self. What my dream self never seemed to remember was that in this version he never came. Instead the blade came down and I screamed. I felt every incision as they cut a hole, broke my ribs and still I screamed. Why wasn’t I dying? Why did I have to feel every second? I felt his hand travel into my chest and grab my heart.

“You bastards” I screamed as he tugged it free from its resting place. It was finally over.

 

Like the beginning to the story of Alice Young? Part 2 can be found tomorrow at http://jlwylie.wordpress.com.

My eshort, ‘What a way to start the day’ A Molly O’Brien Tale is being released on the 1st of December. http://www.omnilit.com/product-whatawaytostarttheday-484430-139.html

Waking up to realize you may be in the family way would make anyone worry. Especially if the would-be daddy has fangs and is the hunted son of the vampire mafia.
Molly O’Brien runs the small shop ‘Forbidden Charms’ and is the witch to go to if you want something. Operating on the outskirts of a supernatural world isn’t easy either, especially when trying to keep your secret from the human world. Who would have thought life could get any more complicated for the little fire witch?

 

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  1. December 6, 2010 at 4:33 pm

    I have to say, a lot of what Alice Young has gone through is extremely distressful. Her ordeal and her clipped short intense sentence structure is reminiscent of another Alice, a certain Miss Carrol. Am I seeing things?

    I mean to make this observation in the shadow of flattery and awe. I LOVE the information and how her dreams play with what she has already gone through.
    YES! I want more. I’m very aware that this is someone elses blog so hey, how much feedback do you want up here?

    I’d still say that, although the nature of the piece is bordering on the abstract it is a must for anyone working in fantasy fiction to sell the reality of the events by having pieces of the everyday in there.
    There is always space.
    Space for not just the types of clothing, but the materials and make, the time and date and of course weather conditions. There is ALWAYS space for specificity.
    Having said that, this prose would lead exceedingly well to comic narrative. have you ever considered doing a comic version?

    Not to ay that the descriptions were weak, just that they have the potential to be even stronger!

    Looking back, this review seems a little negative, but i enjoyed the piece and although I’m obliged as a member of your writers circle to read more, i genuinely want to read more of what has come some way since i read its previous draft. Apart from the arms that snaked out at me bit, Here is my fav section:

    From the look on his face he could have been sleeping. It was only by looking lower to the messy blood stained hole that you knew that he wouldn’t be waking up. Above each of their heads was the red mass of muscle that was the human heart. The urge to fight left me in a wave. These were the days before I knew that I was a witch. Five years ago, I was just like any other fifteen year old girl. It’s hard to believe that life was ever that simple.

  2. Ella Grey
    December 6, 2010 at 4:49 pm

    i would love to do a comic book version, i guess you have to batter down your characters before letting them grow. alice is a figter and i believe that i needed to show how low she has gotten.

    this isn’t anywhere near to a final draft, i always think that you can do more, you’ve seen Dia story and hopefully Molly’s, there is a lot of difference between the first or third draft and the final product.

    thank you very much for the comment john and i will return the favor soon.

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