Thursday, February 22, 2018

#WIPpet Wednesday - No Filter Take Two - #lgbtqia

Another crazy-busy week, but not in a bad way. :) It does mean I missed my Monday blog post yet again, although the way I’ve been ranting, it’s probably for the best.

Anyway, I’ve finally re-opened No Filter today, and the first thing I did was change it from first- to third-person. Why? Well, a couple of days ago, I put up a FB status about omniscient narration, which a few people responded to (including some, erm, helpful explanations of what omniscient narration is and is not).

I’m OK with any kind of narration—even head-hopping—if it suits the story. But readers generally have their favourites, and there will always be someone who isn’t happy with how the story is told. Well, they can always write their own story if they so wish.

Thanks to Bonita for reminding me that, in the end, “we need to satisfy that voice inside that tells us our choice is the right one!”

So, third-person it is. :)

Brief story info:
No Filter is a crossover novella of the Hiding Behind The Couch and Checking Him Out series(es), featuring Libby (and others) from HBTC, and Matty (and others) from CHO.

WIPpet maths for 22nd February:
(I'm a day late)
22/2 * 18 = 198 words

And the WIPpet Snippet:
“Will you check through this email?” Matty started reading over what he’d typed. No squiggly lines. That was a good sign. “Noo?” He glanced behind him. “Oh! He’s gone.”

Noah had been lying on the bed when Matty started typing, he wasn’t sure how long ago that was. Writing emails took all his concentration, but maybe autocorrect would be enough. If he’d thought about it, he’d have used his laptop, which had text-to-speech, because his phone wasn’t that clever, but it was done now.

I’ll just send it as it is—did I tell Libby I was dyslexic? I think I did.

He went to click send, wavered, and hit ‘save’ instead. Noah couldn’t have gone that far, and a few more minutes wouldn’t make any difference.

Matty couldn’t believe he’d left it so long to get in touch. Nearly a year and a half had passed since he’d shown Libby around campus and they’d exchanged email addresses. Taking prospective students on guided tours was part of his mentoring job, and he’d given plenty in the past three years, to lots of interesting young people from all walks of life, but he’d only swapped email addresses the once.

* * * * *

What is WIPpet Wednesday?
WIPpet Wednesday is a blog hop where authors share from their current works in progress - expertly organised/hosted by Emily Wrayburn - and the excerpt has to relate to the date in some way. For links to other fabulous authors' WIPpets, visit:

Thanks for reading
Deb x

Thursday, February 15, 2018

#WIPpet Wednesday - Goth of Christmas Past - The Circle MkII #amwriting #lgbtqia

All of the news!

I've been so busy this past couple of weeks, I didn't blog at all last week, and my house is wall-to-wall dog hair, but...

Goth of Christmas Past is written, and alpha-read! Thank you, lovely husband :) Nige is a sound/lighting tech, which is very helpful when it comes to feeding back on a story that extensively features a recording studio ('you mean haze, not smoke, never tell them it's smoke or they cough and complain', and 'why is he up a tower when they've got programmable lights?' and 'try re-patching cables instead...' and so on and so forth), except that now he wants a job there, LOL. It's also with the first beta-reader, who tells me it's got a good start. Cheers, Al. x That's...a good start! :)

My next mission—aside from 'hinting' that I need more beta-readers—is to come up with a series title. Why? Well, this is part of Hiding Behind The Couch, but it's kind of a spin-off too...HBTC TNG? Or something like that. Not. I'm thinking along the lines of 'Assets' but catchier. I have time to decide, anyway, but feel free to throw suggestions my way.

Also, I've been playing around with the new version of the cover, which is—hopefully—more 'New Adult'. Again, the illustration is the work of the super-talented Emma Pickering. No doubt, I'll tweak and refine a bit more before I finally settle on it being right.

Any readers of HBTC will know the series centres on a group of nine(ish) friends – The Circle: Josh, Shaunna, Dan, George, Adele, Kris, Eleanor, Andy, Jess and Sean. Krissi in Goth of Christmas Past is Shaunna's daughter, and Jay is Krissi's best friend.

The setup for this series is much the same: although Krissi and Jay are the central characters in GOCP, there is a broader group of friends/colleagues who will be more prominent in future stories. Probably. Depends on them, really. ;)

I've posted snippets featuring Krissi and Jay,'s time to meet someone else. This snippet features Karen Deakin, Krissi's former assistant manager, and Karen's wife Bridget. That's an L and a B, in case you're wondering.

As for maths...erm...there are fourteen letters in the first line?

“You didn’t cancel.”

“No, I—”

Karen ended the call quickly before she eavesdropped any further. That put a bit of a downer on the evening, and it hadn’t even begun yet. She was surprised at Krissi, and disappointed. They’d worked together for five years and been friends since the start. In all that time—even when Krissi was her manager—Karen had never known her to not speak her mind.

Bridget’s car pulled up outside, which stopped her dwelling on it for the time being; she’d have to say something to Krissi later, though, or she’d drive herself nuts.

“That off-licence is rubbish.” Bridget marched past on her way to the kitchen. “They don’t sell crates of beer.” She brusquely tugged two four-packs from the bag and shoved them into the fridge.

“That’ll be enough, though, won’t it?” Karen said. “Krissi’ll be driving. I’m not even sure Wotto drinks.” She tried to recall if he’d been on the beer at their wedding, but it was a bit hazy.

“For tonight, yeah. But it’s nice to have it in the house at this time of year.” She closed the fridge and turned to Karen with a suggestive grin. “Especially as you’re not breastfeeding anymore.”

There was that, she supposed.

Bridget kissed her on the way past. “Going for a shower.”

“OK.” Karen watched her leave and sighed. She wanted to still be breastfeeding, but Molly had never latched on properly, making it unbearably painful, and there was nobody offering support. Or that’s how it felt.

* * * * *

What is WIPpet Wednesday?

WIPpet Wednesday is a blog hop where authors share from their current works in progress - expertly organised/hosted by Emily Wrayburn - and the excerpt has to relate to the date in some way. For links to other fabulous authors' WIPpets, visit:

Thanks for reading
Deb x

Wednesday, February 14, 2018

Just because... #Valentine Hiding Behind The Couch

Not new material, or even a work in progress. It's Valentine's Day, which is also Josh's birthday, and it's been a busy couple of weeks. So here's an excerpt that's kind of a story in itself.

Bloody Valentine’s
14th February

Josh smiled, trying to disguise his unease with his current client—a man in his late fifties who, after twenty minutes of waffling about deaths in suspicious circumstances and violent gangland killings, had declared that he could see ghosts. But not any old ghosts. Oh no. Obviously, these were the ghosts of the victims, and in Josh’s head, he could hear them calling ‘Avenge my death!’ although these words had yet to pass the lips of his newest client. And he’d said he wasn’t going to take on any more. His phone vibrated against his leg for about the twentieth time in the past hour, and he shifted position. Ghosts. Good grief.

“When you say ‘see’, can you explain what you mean by that?”

“I don’t understand the question,” the man said. Mr. R. Forster. That was his name. No clues as to what the ‘R’ stood for.

“When the ‘ghosts’ make themselves visible to you, do you see actual people? Or do you just see lights, or—”

“Actual people,” Mr. Forster confirmed. “Full bodied, a bit wispy around the edges, but definitely people.”

“I see.” Josh’s phone vibrated again.

“Did you need to get that?” Mr. Forster asked.

“Oh, no. Sorry. It’s nothing important.” Josh smiled apologetically. He usually turned his phone off and put it away in the drawer, or left it in his jacket and hung that in the closet across the room, but today, he’d been typing a text message when Mr. Forster arrived, so he’d hastily shoved it in his trouser pocket, where it had been buzzing away ever since. “OK,” he said, “do these ‘ghosts’ talk to you, or can you just see them?”

“I can’t hear them, but they are talking. I can see their mouths moving.” Mr. Forster suddenly covered his face. “Oh God, it’s so terrible, the things these poor souls endure.” He uncovered his face again. “They’re screaming, crying out, unheard, across the void, calling for help.”

As a fruitcake. Josh’s phone vibrated again. He took it out, turned off the notifications and put it down on his desk. He glanced at the clock. Five minutes of this craziness left.

“Can you recall when these experiences first started?” he asked.

Mr. Forster pondered for a moment before he answered. “It’s been since the death of my wife.”

Josh started to make a note of this. “And when was that?” His phone screen lit up: call from Ellie. He turned it face down.

“Five years ago. Are you sure you wouldn’t like to answer your phone? It must be quite important, if they keep trying to call.”

“It’s not, I assure you.” Josh smiled—again. He was starting to get cramp in his jaw. “I understand this might be painful, and if it’s too painful, please don’t feel you have to answer. May I ask how your wife died?”

“She was killed in a car accident.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“She’s been visiting me ever since.”

“Did you ever have any bereavement counselling?”

“No. My doctor suggested it, but I told him I didn’t need it. She’s still with me, isn’t she?”

Josh shrugged. “Depends on your beliefs.”

“Do you believe in an afterlife?”

“I’d prefer not to comment. This is, after all, about you.”

“I do. And I believe that troubled spirits—the ones who were not ready to leave—get lost in between this world and the next. That’s where my wife is, and all the others calling out to me. I think she may be directing them towards me.”

Josh glanced at the clock again. Time up. He slid forward on his seat and uncrossed his legs.

“That must be some solace. That you feel your wife is helping other lost souls?”

“Yes.” Mr. Forster nodded. “I do take some comfort from it. However, I’m exhausted. I need to block them out, silence them. I’ve asked them to leave me alone, but they won’t listen. They just keep coming, again and again, ‘Avenge me! O, avenge me!’”

And there it is. Josh rubbed his nose, trying hard not to laugh. He cleared his throat.

“All right, Mr. Forster. We have another appointment booked for the same time next week, don’t we? That will give me time to consider our options, which we can discuss then. How does that sound?”

Mr. Forster stood up. He was distracted, as if watching something going on across the room. Josh couldn’t help himself; he glanced in the same direction and back at his client. Mr. Forster smiled and shook Josh’s hand.

“Thanks,” he said, indicating with a nod across the room. “My wife,” he explained. “She’s blowing out the candles on a birthday cake.”

“OK.” Josh could feel his eyes growing wide of their own accord.

“Is it your birthday?”


“She’s nodding to say it is.”

Josh laughed in disbelief and combed his fingers through his hair. “Yes,” he confirmed, “it’s my birthday.”

“Have a good one,” Mr. Forster said. “See you next week.”

And then he was gone, leaving Josh standing in the middle of his surgery with his mouth hanging open and wondering if he was staring rudely at—or right through—the invisible, late Mrs. Forster. He shook himself out of it and picked up his phone—lots and lots of text messages, missed calls, emails and online notifications—there was nothing like social networking to make one feel extraordinarily popular.

* * *

Excerpt from In The Stars Part I: Capricorn–Gemini (Hiding Behind The Couch Season 4)

Thanks for reading :)
Deb x