Just in case anyone’s wondering whether to buy my latest book but doesn’t know what to expect, I thought I’d post an excerpt to give you some idea of the style. This particular bit is from the middle of the book, when main character Adam is starting to have doubts about the TV crew who’ve come to film his haunted home, and even bigger doubts about the show’s producer Carl. I hope you enjoy it – if so, you can find the book here.
‛So, what now?’ said Carl, frowning and tapping two fingers, dit-dit, dit-dit, on the wall. ‛You’ve dragged me up here for some reason, I assume?’
‛Now we wait.’
‛And how long’s that going to take? In case you hadn’t noticed I’ve got a TV programme to run. And couldn’t you have found somewhere more comfortable? There isn’t even a chair up here and we’ve got nothing to eat or drink.’
Adam was usually a patient man, but everyone has a limit and he’d just hit his. He was worried about the house, he was worried about his paintings and that dark thing in his studio; most of all he was worried about Gramps. ‛Believe me,’ he said in a taut voice, ‛if things get nasty then sitting down and eating will be the least of our worries. I’m scared. I don’t know what Stella thought she was doing, but she’s quite possibly disturbed something that was best left undisturbed.’
‛Okay,’ Carl flicked his pony-tail in a restless way, but some of the peevishness left his face. He reached for Adam’s arm. ‛Is there anything I can do to help?’
‛Not really.’ Adam tried to smile but wasn’t sure it succeeded very well. ‛There are people helping us, even if you can’t see them.’
‛Okaaaay,’ said Carl again, investing a whole plethora of emotions into a single word. ‛Er, are we talking about ghosts here? Only you know I don’t actually believe‒’
‛I don’t care what you don’t believe in, it’s happening.’ Adam forgot to be polite. ‛I’ll admit the thing with the books and the flour was mostly a trick, but this is real, and it could be dangerous. So just sit there and shut up for a minute while I try to get a handle on what’s going on.’
Carl closed his mouth and opened his eyes very wide, and for a minute Adam thought he’d gone too far. But then a rueful look came into the producer’s eyes, and his mouth relaxed again into a small but mischievous smile. ‛Wow, you can get quite aggressive when you’re worked up, can’t you? I like that in a man.’
‛That’s nice,’ said Adam. ‛But you’re still not sitting down.’
‛Nowhere to sit. In case you hadn’t noticed. I’m an Important Television Producer. I don’t do floors.’
‛Oh, of course. Silly of me.’ Adam snapped his fingers, and a couple of large tapestry cushions took flight from the Great Hall below, up and over the balcony, to land with a faint thud at their feet. He had no idea which of the ghosts had tossed them up, but the result could hardly have been more spectacular. ‛Thank you,’ he called, and kicked one of the cushions across to Carl...
The photo is one I took a couple of years ago at Blackwell Arts & Crafts House near Windermere. Not quite tapestry, but it’s near enough!
FIONA GLASS 