Review: Parasite Crop, by Mark Cassell.

Parasite Crop by Mark Cassell
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

This novel sees Mark Cassell's expand his range in the horror genre, with a departure from the paranormal horror of the Shadow Fabric mythos.

Parasite Crop starts bleak and desolate on the south coast of England, in Dungeness - the name itself setting the scene. And this particular horror embraces the senses with a slimy fungus-like 'crop' which affects some of the characters. This book leaves you feeling very uncomfortable and squeamish in some of the scenes, but has some great twists which keep you engaged and turning the page.

I really enjoyed it.


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Mid-Week flash on hiatus until September

It's been a couple of years since I have taken a break from #MidWeekflash, but as I am off on holiday, and then my eldest turns 18, all while trying to get Tricky's third book written (in my Tricky's Tales series), I have a bit too much on my plate to keep up with it. 

Apologies to recent joiners, but DO feel free to write for ANY of the previous posts (including this picture). There are no time limits on these challenges and you will find all previous photos in the archives in this blog, or in a photo album in the MidWeekFlash Facebook group.

Mid-Week Flash Challenge - Week 302

This week's picture prompt was taken by Juuso Hämäläinen over on Instagram. It was taken in Levi, Lappi, Finland. He has some stunning shots and art. Worth taking some time to enjoy them. 

Another Tricky story this week as she is at the forefront of my mind. The lst one was on Week 300. 

The General Guidelines can be found here.

How to create a clickable link in Blogger comments can be found on lasts week's post here. 

There is also a Facebook group for Mid-Week Flash, if you fancy getting the prompt there.

Trace

Tricky was utterly unprepared for this. Her clothes weren’t made to deal with all this white, thick, cold stuff. She was wet through, and felt weighted down. She’d never experienced snow before, only read about it. Apparently some big old jolly man, all dressed in red, was going to come careening over the slopes on a sleigh pulled by some funny looking animals, and offer her a present – at least that was what all the old books said when it was the season for this stuff to fall from the sky, back before the shift.

But the only big old man likely to show up here was Douglas Bottle, aka Gandalf, and Tricky knew his jolly disposition was more a sinister sneer. No, she didn’t want any old men showing up to give her anything, thank you very much. She was doing just fine on her own.

But why was he traveling this way? He was way too easy to track in snow. He knew she was following him. Or was that the point? Was he thinking he was setting his own trap? Tricky chuckled to herself. He really hadn’t learnt, had he? He was helping her implement her own plan. She just needed to know where he’d gone soe she could pull all the threads together.

She stopped by one of the snow laden trees, a strong spruce. She put her hands on its trunk and received its high jittery, lime green energy. When she visualised Bottle, she saw his brightly dressed garb rushing off ahead of her, slightly downhill, then it paused by a large conifer and vanished.

She passed on some of her own energy to the tree as thanks, and stuffed her hands back in her pockets, attempting to save them from the cutting cold. As she looked at the path ahead, she couldn’t help notice the heavens above. Up high on a mountain side with air sharpened by the cold, the clarity of the night sky was striking. It seemed full to bursting with bright pinpricks denoting other stars in other universes. Tricky wasn’t familiar enough with constellations to know if the patterns were different from her own time, though she suspected they were. And the streak of distant nebulous cloud which outlined the arm of their galaxy gave it more depth. She inhaled a deep lungful of crisp clear air and gave herself a moment before continuing her pursuit.

Even though she was here to weave a little magic of her own, she still embraced the awe and wonder at passing through these locations. And there was no shortage of them, as this particular stunt was proving.

Tricky knew Bottle thought he knew what he was doing, leading her into a trap, but he clearly underestimated her crafty nature. It was a merry dance alright, but one he wasn’t going to end up enjoying, she was sure of that – oh yes she was. She smiled to herself as she set off down the hill. She wished she could see his face when he realised how he’d allowed her to ensnare him.

When she arrived at the large conifer, she closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. The crystal air made everything a little bit sharper and she quickly saw the remnants of the line Gandalf had opened into the next time. But the energy colour had shifted slightly, as she suspected, because he was trying to lead her into his own trap.

To those that could read energy as well as Tricky, this ploy was obvious. He’d already tried it twice and she hadn’t fallen for it either time, but he hadn’t seem to have realised that. And what it enabled Tricky to do was create her own little net of deception. The fact he was still clueless meant there was a greater chance of success.

She took another breath and blew out gently across the line causing it to glow. She took out the obsidian still wrapped in germwort and scraped up a grain of creasy from the few loose in her pocket. She didn’t need much, just a spark to open it a slither. She held them in the air against the line, and when she dropped the creasy onto the covered stone, it opened a crack as she’d hoped. She took a tiny piece of aluminium foil out of another pocket and stuck it in the gap. It fizzed and crackled, but closed, leaving a barely visible scrap of metal in the air. Few people would notice its existence.

Such metals were a rarity in Tricky’s world, but she’d come across a roll buried in some rubble where there’d been a dwelling before the shift. She’d only ever used tiny scraps, learning early on its use as a replacement mirror.

A raucous cackle escaped her and echoed off the snow covered hills. Oh this was going to be so much fun. 

Mid-Week Flash Challenge - Week 301

This week's picture prompt is a digital creation by Ciara, or Aura, as she calls herself online, and She Freaks, She Speaks, over on Facebook. She has some wonderful digital art, and she also has a shop where she sell crystals and crystal jewellery. If you like that sort of thing there's a lot of choice. I have also used one of her pictures before - remember the stain glassed bath? That was one of  her pictures. 

A gentler story today. 

The General Guidelines can be found here.

How to create a clickable link in Blogger comments can be found on lasts week's post here. 

There is also a Facebook group for Mid-Week Flash, if you fancy getting the prompt there.

Mind Magic

Adeline swirled the special glass-bodied teapot, with its multicoloured gemstone decoration round the top, letting the herbs and spices within release their properties into the hot water.

She inhaled the steam coming out of the filigree spout, and smiled, knowing it was almost ready.

She set it down on the small coffee table and laid crystals and gemstones around it, placing candles in between so the light flowed through them.

She moved into her cross-legged position and inhaled deeply. The scent was getting stronger and she knew it wouldn’t be long now.

Since Adeline had discovered this route to accessing the other side, she indulged it as often as she could. She hoped soon she would reach him.

She took in a deep breath and closed her eyes. The light behind them swirled with rainbow colours, which began to move into a spiral, taking her further into herself and the cavernous rooms of the mind. Then an archway appeared in her mind’s eye and she stepped through into a meadow which swept away to a cliff edge.

She walked to the cliff edge and looked across the wide vista in front of her, where the mountains opened up to plains of lush green forests and open spaces. It was a spectacle to behold.

She called out his name hearing it echo across the land. She did this repeatedly then walked to a hill that rose off the left side of the meadow, and sat cross-legged at the top. She closed her eyes, seeing the meadow in her mind’s eye again and repeating the same actions. She did this four times. During the fourth she felt him: his energy, his mood, his aura.

Then a whisper; her name on the breeze. She called out to him again, opening her eyes and standing up, hoping to glimpse him.

  She opened her arms wide and felt an energy swirl round her. It was his energy. He was here!

She wished she could see him, but feeling him was special, being that it had been several lifetimes since she had. She hoped to be reunited in their next life – it’s why she was doing this. If she could connect to him enough times in this life, they would be able to find each other more easily in the next.

She breathed in his aura, remembering his softness, his loving nature and his heart. She felt his yearning and reciprocated it. For a few precious seconds they were entwined again. She revelled in it, not wanting it to be over, but before she knew it he had gone.

Adeline waited in case he returned. It could have been for a few seconds or it could have been hours. Eventually she accepted the moment was over and she pulled herself out of each level of meditation. Then she brought herself back into her body, and opened her eyes, staring at the elaborate teapot.

She felt sad yet at the same time elated. She missed him, but knew he was there waiting.

She treasured that moment as much as she treasured her teapot.

She touched the side of it. It had grown cold now, but, like her love for him, the hot water could be replenished; the magic was still alive.   

Mid-Week Flash Challenge - Week 300

This week's picture prompt was created by Hungarian artist Sarolta Bán. She has some incredible art, and in fact I have used one of her pictures before back on Week 24 - in the early days of me running this challenge. And I have another one due to be used in the coming weeks, and there will be more in the future. They are just so thought provoking. 

Another Tricky tale, maybe I'll use it in her books, maybe I won't. But I do love developing the stories. The last one was on Week 297. 

The General Guidelines can be found here.

How to create a clickable link in Blogger comments can be found on lasts week's post here. 

There is also a Facebook group for Mid-Week Flash, if you fancy getting the prompt there.

Visitors

Tricky heard a fluttering and watched two birds land on the beach behind her. They weren’t the corvids from Lucien’s flock, so who were they? They eyed her and she wondered if Douglas Bottle had them in his employ. Had he sent them to spy on her? She felt uncomfortable now as she adjusted the easel, turning the canvas towards her.

One of them cooed. They were doves, white ones. They seemed far too pretty and delicate to be handled by an oversized clown like Bottle. They circled each other as though putting on a display, while moving towards her at the same time.

“I don’t trust you,” she said out loud. “How have you found me?”

They kept on coming, ignoring her words. A part of her had expected some kind of reaction, maybe they were just birds that lived here. But Tricky didn’t think so.

An entire empty beach and they land by her? She didn’t buy it. There was something crafty and sneaky about them. Then one of them flew up and perched on top of the canvas. It cooed again looking straight at her. It was definitely here for her. Did it have a message of some kind? She looked at it’s feet but there was nothing attached to them, or the one on the ground.

“What are you trying to tell me, deary? What is it you want me to know?”

It scratched the top of the blank canvas.

“You want me to start painting? I can do that – but this isn’t any normal paint, you know that, right? This is painting with energy, to see something that isn’t here in this time.”

It cooed at her again as though agreeing. It bobbed its head up and down. Okay, that was definitely a nod. Tricky rolled her shoulders to quell a shudder that had run up her back. These birds were here for her, but who had sent them? The only person she knew who could do that was Safa, who had to be working with Annie – but it could also be one of Gandalf’s lackeys. She wouldn’t put it past him to have tracked her here. She kept trying to remain undetected but he kept finding her. He was definitely her match with this time jumping lark.

So how could she be sure this bird was on her side? She tried to think of things only Safa would know that could be answered simply.

Tricky picked up the painting palette and held it close to the bird. Using the paint brush, she pointed to the circle of colours.

“What is the colour of my mother’s protection stone?”

The bird looked at her. Safa knew the answer because she’d been there when Tricky had used it. It turned its head to the side and eyed the palette. It looked at her again, then it sprung onto the palette. Tricky steadied it with both hands. It circled the colours, eyeing each one, then it dipped a claw into the green and swiped it across a blank piece of palette. It eyed her again as if asking if it was the right one.

Tricky felt the hairs on her arms rise. Yep, this was Safa’s bird alright.

“Good. So what is it you want me to know?”

It jumped back onto the top of the canvas and again tapped its claw on it.

“Something you want me to see?”

It bobbed its head down and cooed.

“Okay, I’ll get started.”

Tricky dabbed the paintbrush into the yellow and smeared it across the canvas. It began to glow. Then she dipped it into the green and painted round the edges of the canvas for protection. The glow covered the dove and it fluttered its wings before settling again.

Now for the tricky bit.

Tricky swirled all the colours on the palette together, while taking long breaths, drawing up as much energy as she could from the ocean. Then she blew over it and it glistened. As she swept the brush across the canvas another picture appeared. The back of a man walking away from her. But not just any man, one she knew, (you couldn’t help spot him with that ridiculous top hat and silly old-world costume), one she’d love to see the back of – although not like this; she wanted him dead and gone.

“Tell me, deary, what do I need to know about Dimitri Stanislav?”

The second dove joined the first on the top of the canvas and they both started cooing and bobbing in unison. A white energy began to form around them and they simultaneously swooped down in front of the canvas onto the ground, spreading the energy across the painting.

This time the man was joined by a group of five others, one of them dressed in garish, clashing colours: Gandalf, aka Douglas Bottle.

“They’re in cahoots. I know that already, deary.”

But the group huddled, and then stepped back and what Tricky saw made her gasp.

“No! Oh no. Oh shit. I need to move – now!”

Tricky scrambled in her pockets for the obsidian, germwort and creasy, and immediately activated a rent in time. It opened in the middle of the canvas. She pushed it open making sure it was the destination she sought, and climbed through. As she turned to seal it, she saw the two doves sitting on the sand watching her.

“Thank you so much, dearies. Tell your mistress I’m on my way. I’m not having this!”

And with that she sealed it with a pop. She only hoped she would be in time to get Nathan out of her cabin. 

Mid-Week Flash Challenge - Week 299

This week's picture prompt is by Jim Campbell over on twitter, taken at a hotel in Melbourne in 2016. He said: “The outside of hotel room windows taken through the window from the inside of a hotel room. Perspective." Jim also said: "I had just returned to my hotel room after a walk around Melbourne CBD and I looked out the window and all the lights were off and I thought, 'Well that's dull.' Within seconds that one light came on and I got the shot."

This one took a while to unravel, but I like it.

The General Guidelines can be found here.

How to create a clickable link in Blogger comments can be found on lasts week's post here. 

There is also a Facebook group for Mid-Week Flash, if you fancy getting the prompt there.

Exposed

When he saw the light go on, Jack felt his heart rate increase. They were back. It was time.

He shifted his position on the window ledge and leant behind him for the binoculars, altering the focus so he could get a better look.

A lot of people in hotel rooms on high floors didn’t bother with curtains – especially when it had a view of the city below – and these two were no exception. Jack was glad, otherwise this operation would fail.

He could see the two of them on the sofa, getting fresh with each other. He could have stayed and watched the whole thing, but that would screw up the plan, and he didn’t want to do that. Others were depending on him.

He left the room he was in and hurried down, taking the stairs rather than the lift so he was less likely to be spotted. He ran across the courtyard between the two buildings, pulling his black hoodie up tight so no one could see his face in the night light, and ascended the other side using the stairs too, waiting at the top to catch his breath before taking the next step.

He heard a sound along the corridor as he came out of the stairwell, and froze, listening keenly. There was whispering and a lot of shushing. He knew who it was, so remained in the corridor, and waited.

They appeared round the corner and when they spotted him, he put his finger to his lips. They immediately quieted. There were four of them and, like him, all decked out in black with black hoodies.

They moved together as one along the corridor until they came to the room with the light showing under the door.

Even though they knew there weren’t any other occupied rooms in the hotel, they checked up and down the corridor to make sure they weren’t interrupted. There was no way of knowing if someone had discovered their plan and were going to sabotage them.

Jack put his hand up and counted down from five on his fingers. On one, he put the master keycard into the lock and heard the click as it opened. He carefully opened the door, hoping that they were still so busy with each other they wouldn’t hear anything.

Once all five of them were through in the hallway of this particular suite, he carefully closed the door, guiding the automatic closing mechanism to make sure it remained silent.

They stood and looked at each other, each pulling a different object out of their pocket. Then they moved into the room swiftly, flicking the light switch off as they went.

There were screams and shouts, strobe lighting, and the sound of a camera shutter. Then they exited as quickly and quietly as they’d entered, this time leaving in different directions.

Jack returned to the stairs he had come up and ran down them, his soft shoes almost soundless. He heard doors opening and a few shouts – security no doubt – but they were too slow and he was out of there and out of the courtyard of the hotel before they had even reached the bottom.

He returned to his flat and processed the information he’d gathered straight away, sending it out to the relevant people, working in co-ordination with the other four. Then he relaxed, took a shower and read his book until he fell asleep.

The following morning, he turned on the news to find it buzzing with footage of a top government official caught with a hooker in one of the rooms in a new hotel complex that hadn’t yet opened. No one seemed to know where the footage had come from, but it was a scandal he wouldn’t come back from. Jack smiled. Job well done.

 

Review: Tread Gently Amidst The Barrows, by Jack Rollins

Tread Gently Amidst The Barrows by Jack Rollins
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

A short, sharp, dark and claustrophic short from Jack Rollins, which gives a whole new spin on the existence of Trolls and a different, more terrifying perspective of their existence - this is no Three Billy Goat's Gruff!

This little tale is not for the faint hearted, and I particularly liked the use of an event in the MC's past coming back round. A great way to grow the character and bring him closer to the reader.

An enjoyable introduction to Jack Rollins' writing style. A definite recommend.

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