Ghostwriting - my subject...Real life...no fiction here.
Summary;
White Butterfly is the true encounter of an Australian man LW (anonymity) who meets with fate following a holiday adventure to the Philippines. When LW's life suddenly and dramatically tkes a turn for the worse, he finds himself caught in the depths of kidnappings, death and corruption, but just when all hope seems lost, a guardian angel appears.
This concept is a work for a full manuscript, hoping to be published in 2020.
2017
Here is a small excerpt from a 500 word short story I wrote,
Hidden behind your body of mahogany is the
beautiful vocals echoing within my ears.
Her shyness is camouflaged by darkness while the soft strumming of your strings
soothe my body, transporting me to another world, another time, another
life. I’m in sync with your beauty even
if it is temporary, lyrics charged, casting a mesmerising spell...
2016
Recently I had the opportunity to submit a piece of prose on 'Local Colour.' Here's a snippet of my story loosely based around a real family back in the gold rush of Australia and of course fictionalised. It's a story of a young man Joseph growing up around the gold fields, his father a mining surveyor, his family met with demise through illness and misadventure, I hope you enjoy this small look into their lives.
Walter slammed the wire door behind us as we took off towards the river bank and I don’t mind saying how I could sense trouble looming since that dark shadow paid me dreams a visit that morning, just like the ones Muma spoke about before something bad was about to happen.
As we climbed along the
bank I noticed how the river had already begun to rise from the winters
drenching sending pieces of driftwood and branches floating on by. Paddy grabbed at a big old branch overhanging
from one of the many She Oaks that lined the banks, and as he launched himself
onto that branch we heard a crack like a rabbits back being broken as the
branch snapped sending both it and Paddy into the current of water below.
Walt and I we ran along that bank like two crazed desperadoes calling out to Paddy to hold on, all the while Paddy’s face had turned to stone, his eyes fixed with fear as he was carried away in twists and turns until we could no longer see or hear him.
I daren’t tell Walt about that dark shadow’s visit I’d had earlier for he’d surely find the biggest stick to whack me one with, for now it felt like hours since Paddy disappeared downstream, and by the time we reached the base of the gorge, the large volcanic rock walls surrounding us silenced everything but the drumming of water that spilt across the steep ledges.
As I hit the ground with every stride all the beautiful sounds that filled this countryside were drowned out by a loud thud happening in me ears and if the pressure got any more then it’d be certain me head might explode. I was running for me life or at least for Paddy’s for who knows what had become of him by now. And as for Walter, well I left him way back at that gorge complaining of a stitch in his side.
It was all mud through town, sticking to the soles of me boots like glue, dragging me down hard as I tried to make it to the foothills of Red Bluff where our house laid. It wouldn’t be long before nightfall and most of the miners out here were already home amongst the clusters of canvas and torn bark huts they called home, some with fireplaces spewing thick plumes of choking smoke into the air that was certain to cripple me already wheezing lungs.
Walt and I we ran along that bank like two crazed desperadoes calling out to Paddy to hold on, all the while Paddy’s face had turned to stone, his eyes fixed with fear as he was carried away in twists and turns until we could no longer see or hear him.
I daren’t tell Walt about that dark shadow’s visit I’d had earlier for he’d surely find the biggest stick to whack me one with, for now it felt like hours since Paddy disappeared downstream, and by the time we reached the base of the gorge, the large volcanic rock walls surrounding us silenced everything but the drumming of water that spilt across the steep ledges.
As I hit the ground with every stride all the beautiful sounds that filled this countryside were drowned out by a loud thud happening in me ears and if the pressure got any more then it’d be certain me head might explode. I was running for me life or at least for Paddy’s for who knows what had become of him by now. And as for Walter, well I left him way back at that gorge complaining of a stitch in his side.
It was all mud through town, sticking to the soles of me boots like glue, dragging me down hard as I tried to make it to the foothills of Red Bluff where our house laid. It wouldn’t be long before nightfall and most of the miners out here were already home amongst the clusters of canvas and torn bark huts they called home, some with fireplaces spewing thick plumes of choking smoke into the air that was certain to cripple me already wheezing lungs.
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