I roll over and my shoulder blade goes, nope. I walk up the stairs and my knee is like, nope. Hip. Same thing. Why do we have to get old. Why can’t we stay young and vibrant forever?
Today we walked ten kilometers around Barnston Island in Surrey. The island was an interesting place to walk around. Big farms. Cute houses, but also dilapidated houses.
As we walked around, out bodies decided to say nope, not today; yet, we still had to keep walking because there are no buses and no way to get back to the ferry but walk. Our car was parked on the other side. We had walked onto the ferry.
But who would have thought ten kilometers would make our bodies start crying? I used to walk for a living and ten km was nothing in a day. I’ve come to realize that sitting at a desk all day at work is so not healthy. I’m determined to be able to walk without hobbling like an old woman.
Life is too short to be achy and stuck in a chair. Our world is too beautiful to let it waste away. So despite being sore, I am glad we got out to see Barnston Island.
We saw donkeys, cows, horses, chickens, silage, corn and blackberries. But what surprised me most was the amount of dilapidated buildings. Don’t get me wrong, there were some nice places on the island, but the others quickly became an eye sore.
While we were walking around the island, it surprised me that only a few properties were actually growing anything, unless everything else we saw was silage, but I wasn’t sure. When I got home, I did some research and found out that a high water table makes poor growing conditions for about 85% of the land, so I guess that would explain the lack of farming activity and maybe even some of the poor falling apart buildings.
However, I did find a place that sells eggs and beef called “Painted Rivers.” We’re looking forward to going back and checking them out. But ya, getting old isn’t a piece of cake. Everything aches. If you have a cure or you know of a way to settle these old bones, make a comment below. I’d love to hear from you.
The Blues of Atlantis
For as long as there have been men, there have been myths. And as long as there have been myths, there have been dreamers. Dreamers who wonder what else is out there.
Nerina Winters is no different. She lives a fantasy life as a mermaid, putting on daily shows at the aquarium. Until one day, she finds herself sitting in the doctor’s office. The revelation of what’s ailing her reveals a family secret she isn’t supposed to know about until her thirtieth birthday.
But it’s too late. The secret is out. Now she’s on the run with a husband she no longer trusts, who harbors a secret of his own. Her husband quickly learns that secrets are perilous by nature.
As you know, multiple stories of mine were removed from publication due to my publisher changing from a publishing company to an asset holding company. As they weren’t going to be publishing any future stories, I decided to take mine back so I could do more with those worlds. And I am.
I just re-released “Her Lover’s Face” for pre-order. It will officially drop on March 15th, 2024, so not much longer to go now.
Her Lover’s Face Blurb:
“Laryssa Mitchell is one of the lucky ones. The death of her abusive husband finally allows her to live again on her own terms, making her own choices. Her first official decision is to take back what was lost – her independence and her old job. But she soon finds herself in a living nightmare when she meets her new boss. If her husband is rotting in hell, then who is the man standing in front of her with a dead man’s face?
Alexander Richards doesn’t expect to catch an unconscious woman in his arms on his first day of work, nor does he envision himself willingly setting foot in hospital again, reliving his painful loss. But that’s exactly what he chooses to do when Laryssa needs his help. Why?
She has a story to tell. He has a mystery to solve. In the midst of danger, passion sizzles between them, taking them by surprise. What will happen when all is brought to light? Will they be able to overcome their traumatic pasts and find love in each other, or will their ghosts have the final say?”
This also means that I’ll be dropping book two, “Her Ghosts Reborn,” shortly as well. You should see this one hit the virtual bookstores by the 10th of March. The full release will be on April 2nd.
Her Ghosts Reborn Blurb:
“Joanne has had anything but a typical life. She almost died in her twenties, lost custody of her kids, through no fault of her own, and lived a lie. Now, in her sixties, she’s going traipsing about the country with a man she barely knows, who claims to be her daughter-in-law’s uncle.
But what happens when you put a man and a woman in a motorhome for a week? The usual, of course…spanking, sex, and a delicious game of cards. Anything to keep her mind off the fact that she is about to see the man who ruined her life so many years ago. Will her father be different, or will he be the same man he’s always been?
Deceptive and evil…only time will tell.”
Not only that, my goal is to re-release “Not You Again” and put it up for pre-order on April 15th for a May 7th release. There is so much more I have planned, but that’s the next few months in a nutshell. I hope you’ll tag along for the ride.
I’m hoping this year brings even more experiences and joy to my life as much as last year did, and I hope you get a chance to live your dreams and soar to new heights. Never let yourself settle for anything less than what your worth! Speak what you want. Believe you will get it. Know you will get it. Create a plan to achieve it! Dreams won’t find you. You have to go after them!
I’m happy to announce that Beneath His Hands, Book Two in the Psychological Thriller and Romance Duology, is now available for download on Amazon. I wanted to do a rapid release so that both books were available as soon as possible.
I’ve been asked whether there will be a paperback version of this duology, but I haven’t wanted to say much until now because of some complications that arose over the last month; however, I’m happy to announce that I am working on the paperback copy and hope to have it released in the next month. I’m also hoping to do a audio version as well, but I’m uncertain as to when that will be released.
It’s very exciting, to say the least, because these are the first two full-length stories that have been published in the last four years. And I do plan on releasing another three-five stories this year, time and life permitting.
But in the meantime, please take a moment to enjoy the two new releases. Her Prison, His Game and Beneath His Hands:
Her Prison His Game Blurb:
In the middle of a forest, in an unknown location, is a game. A psychological game designed to play with the mind until it breaks.
The man responsible wants fresh meat. Someone who hasn’t experienced the horrors of the real world. He wants to see how long it would take to make them fall apart, to make them wish for death.
Combing the city of Surrey, he spots his next target…a young librarian named Jenna McCay.
When Jenna McCay turns nineteen and goes out to celebrate, she doesn’t realize that her easy life is about to end, and the horrors of life set in, in unimaginable ways.
Will she find the strength to survive the game, or will she break before the final curtain falls?*Trigger warning: contains scenes that some readers may find disturbing*
“Ethan Barrett loves his solitude, hence his boat the Em-Dash and the wide-open ocean. It is exactly what he needs to finish his script and celebrate his 30th birthday in peace.
His hopes are quickly dashed when two storms roll in. One with reddish blond hair, and the other which sends him overboard in an attempt to rescue the ninja lady from the worst storm he’s ever experienced in his lifetime.
As his boat goes down and their hope for survival darkens, will he be able to gain the trust of the mystery woman full of secrets, and work together to survive? Or…
Will she be their downfall in an already merciless environment?”
Two stories born out of one idea. One is as dark as dark can be, and the other is about learning to love and trust others when no one has ever given you reason to before. Both are about finding strength to keep going when all the odds seem to be against you. And all the odds are against them as you will come to find out when you read both “Her Prison, His Game” and “Beneath His Hands.”
Her Prison His Game – Book One Blurb:
“In the middle of a forest, in an unknown location, is a game. A psychological game designed to play with the mind until it breaks.
The man responsible wants fresh meat. Someone who hasn’t experienced the horrors of the real world. He wants to see how long it would take to make them fall apart, to make them wish for death.
Combing the city of Surrey, he spots his next target…a young librarian named Jenna McCay.
Jenna McCay didn’t realize that when you turn 19, the easy life she knew would end, and the horrors of life would set in, in unimaginable ways.
Will she find the strength to survive the game, or will she break before the final curtain falls?”
And low and behold, Book Two has just dropped for pre-order on Amazon:
Beneath His Hands – Book Two Blurb:
“Ethan Barrett loves his solitude, hence his boat the Em-Dash and the wide open ocean. It is exactly what he needs to finish his script and celebrate his 30th birthday in peace.
His hopes are quickly dashed when two storms roll in. One with reddish blond hair, and the other which sends him overboard in an attempt to rescue the ninja lady from the worst storm he’s ever experienced in his lifetime.
As his boat goes down and their hope for survival darkens, will he be able to gain the trust of the mystery woman full of secrets, and work together to survive? Or…
Will she be their downfall in an already merciless environment?”
It’s been a long time coming and many years in the making, but it is time and it is finally here. The pre-order link will be available shortly.
Welcome to my Psychological thriller and romance diology, Her Prison, His Game:
Blurb:
In the middle of a forest, in an unknown location, is a game. A psychological game designed to play with the mind until it breaks.
The man responsible wants fresh meat. Someone who hasn’t experienced the horrors of the real world. He wants to see how long it would take to make them fall apart, to make them wish for death.
Combing the city of Surrey, he spots his next target…a young librarian named Jenna McCay.
Jenna McCay didn’t realize that when you turn 19, the easy life she knew would end, and the horrors of life would set in, in unimaginable ways.
Will she find the strength to survive the game, or will she break before the final curtain falls?
——-
Chapter One
Jenna cringed and dropped her books as a clap of thunder rumbled overhead, shaking the window beside her.
“Miss McCay, if you damage those books, it will come out of your pay cheque,” Ms. Hampton said, her dark eyes narrowing. She had her gray hair tied up in a bun and looked a lot like a scary kindergarten teacher with her dark grey three-piece dress suit. The one that made you hide behind your mother on the first day of school.
“Sorry.” She knelt down to pick up the books, biting her tongue from saying anything more. The woman acted like she owned the library and wouldn’t hesitate to fire her if Jenna responded with a sassy remark. She acted so high and mighty. It wasn’t like she hadn’t dropped a single book in her life.
Wicked ole’ witch!
All Ms. Hampton needed was a broom, and Jenna could envision the old lady flying off into the cloud covered sky. She was probably the one who cast the spell and caused the storm that was pounding the West Coast of British Columbia.
Lightning lit up the room, and she held the books close to her chest, her heart thumping as she waited for the thunder that she knew would come. Damn storm was going to turn her own hair gray before its time. But hopefully she could avoid the grumpy attitude when her time came, unlike the old mistress of the library. Ms. Hampton was probably older than the library itself.
“Teens these days, always careless,” the older woman mumbled as she walked away, shaking her head. Jenna stuck her tongue out at her and then quickly closed her mouth when Ms. Hampton turned to face her. “Just for that, you can clean the children’s area before you go home tonight.”
Definitely a witch!
Children had been coming and going all day. The place was going to be a disaster with garbage everywhere. Even though parents weren’t allowed to bring snacks into the library, they often snuck them in anyway. Why couldn’t Ms. Hampton pick on one of the other girls or Derek even? He could do with cleaning the playpen every once in a while. Especially since he needed to be knocked down a peg or two, always thinking he was mister hotshot.
“Seriously, we work in a library and yet somehow he thinks he’s god’s gift to women,” Jenna mumbled.
Ya. Okay. He had the looks, but his attitude stunk. She couldn’t wait to get away from them both. The only reason she put up with them was because she needed the money. Her plan was to save up and see the world. She didn’t care about cute guys or wasting her entire adult life working in some library. Nothing was going to stop her from fulfilling her dream, not even a beady eyed old grouch who watched her like a hawk.
Placing the last of the books on the shelf, she strolled down a side corridor and entered the children’s section. The place was virtually deserted and had an eerie Alfred Hitchcock feel to it. She hated this time of day, hated it with a passion. But one more year and she’d be free. Walking over to the toddler play area, she plunked herself down in the soft cushioned chair and laid her head back.
“Just another ye—” Jenna didn’t even get a chance to finish her sentence as a loud crack filled the air, shattering the window beside her. She screamed and covered her face. Shards of glass dug into her hands, sharp and painful, like being stung by a colony of bees
The wind howled through the window, blowing the papers off a nearby table. Leaves swirled into the room like mini tornados, making an even bigger mess than before. “Great,” she groaned. “Just great.”
Getting up from the chair, Jenna surveyed the damage. The culprit was a huge branch that broke off a large cedar tree. It was sticking half way through the broken window. Next to her feet, she saw red marks on the carpet. And when she looked at her hands, she could have sworn she dipped them in tomato soup.
Not good!
So not good. The all too familiar woozy feeling washed over her as her head started to spin. “It’s just blood. It’s no big deal,” she said, taking a deep breath in through her nose and then out through her mouth. “I can do this!”
Would she ever outgrow her fear of blood? Cautiously, she stepped over the glass and moved away from the window. “I’m not a kid anymore. A little bit of blood is no big deal,” she mumbled, but her stomach refused to agree as it twisted with nausea. “You aren’t dying, you idiot.”
“What are you doing bleeding on my floor?”
Jumping at the sound of Ms. Hampton’s voice, Jenna turned in her direction, scratching her ankle on the tree branch. Cringing, she came face to face with the woman as a flash of lightning lit up the room. When the adjoining thunder rumbled overhead, she hunched her shoulders. Oh, how she hated storms.
“What happened to my window?” the woman growled. “That one is definitely coming out of your pay cheque.”
“It wasn’t my fault. The wind broke a tree branch,” Jenna said, pointing to the branch on the ground. Its leaves rustling in the wind.
“Don’t you dare sass me, girl.”
“But, Ms. Hampton, I need the money. You can’t charge me for something I—”
“Margaret, darling,” Derek said. “How’s my angel tonight?”
Jenna shrieked at the sound of his voice, her nails digging into her palm. She hadn’t expected anyone else to come barging into the room.
Holy crap.
She really needed a chill pill. Storms always set off her anxiety. All she wanted to do was head home and hide under the covers. The library felt like a crypt with all the spooky shadows lurking around the corners. During the day, it was okay. But in the winter, when it got dark at like four o’clock, it drove her crazy.
Ms. Hampton’s eyes brightened, and she beamed a crooked smile in his direction. “Where have you been hiding?”
“Stuck in the archives,” he said, winking at Jenna.
The hair on her arms stood on end as a shiver rippled through her. She knew exactly what he meant. It was the resident makeout spot, and he had used it to make out with just about every girl in the library. There was a cozy little nook in the back corner that he had claimed as his own.
“Don’t worry about the window. I’ll get a hold of someone to fix it,” Derek said, running a hand through his wayward blond hair, flashing his oh-so-perfect smile.
“Really, dear? You’re such a breath of fresh air. You could teach that girl a thing or two,” the older woman said, pinching his cheeks before walking away.
“And that, sweet Jenna, is how you deal with Ms. Hampton,” he said, sitting down on the arm of a chair.
Jenna rolled her eyes and proceeded to head to the bathroom. It was on the way to the first aid room. She needed to wrap her hand or she’d bleed all the way there. And there was no way she was going to get down on her hands and knees to scrub blood out of the scuzzy green carpet. The crabby old woman would make her do it too.
The building was silent, but not the usual library silence. It was the creepy one that made you feel like someone was watching you. Maybe it was just the storm, but her nerves were on edge more than normal. It was almost closing time so the only people left were some die-hard students cramming for an exam, and the employees who were slowly trickling out, one by one.
As she walked into the bathroom, the door swung closed behind her, leaving her in the dark temporarily. “Stupid automatic lights.”
Soon she heard the hum and the room filled with light, making her jump when she saw her reflection in the mirror. Her strawberry blonde hair, more blond than red, was a disaster, bits of glass were stuck in her loose curls. Her clothes were stained with blood. “I’m never wearing a white shirt again.”
Turning on the tap, she ran her hands under the lukewarm water and then examined them carefully. It didn’t look like any of the cuts needed stitches, thankfully. Not that she could get a good glimpse, though. They kept filling with blood faster than she could rinse them.
Grabbing some paper towel, she wrapped her hands and continued her trek to the first aid room. Another collapse of thunder made her jump. “You’re a grown woman, Jenna. Relax.”
She was eighteen, almost nineteen. Her birthday was coming up in just a few short weeks. And yet, some people still thought of her as a kid, despite her having graduated high school earlier in the year. They all kept saying she was stepping into the real world now. Really? What were the last eighteen years of her life? A virtual reality game?
Shaking her head, she unlocked the door to the first aid room and stepped inside. Well, what else did she expect people to think? She couldn’t even get over her fear of thunderstorms and blood. She seemed to be the most nervous person in the world, always waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“Thank you, Mom.”
Her mother would wrap her in bubble wrap if she had the means to do so. That was why Jenna had to get away. She needed to get out and see the world, break free from it all. Her mother’s anxiety most of all. The last thing she wanted was to be afraid of everything for the rest of her life.
A sharp sudden jab of pain from one of her deeper cuts made her cringe. Her hands were going to be hard to hide from her mom. If she saw them, she’d freak out and demand that they go to the emergency room to get them checked out. And then, she would never let Jenna go anywhere again. Maybe there were gloves in her locker.
Scrounging through the cupboards, she searched for a bandage. On the top shelf, she found some gauze and non-stick pads and placed them on the counter. Staring at them, she wondered how on earth she was supposed to wrap her own hands. Both were a mess.
Jenna removed the paper towel from her left hand, carefully peeling it away from the spots where it was sticking to her skin. A stinging sensation crawled across every inch of her hand, her eyes watering in response.
Well, there was one upside to all this. She’d get out of doing dishes for a few days. Oh crap, she groaned. That would mean telling her mom what happened.
As she started to wrap her hand, the lights flickered. “Please don’t go out. Please don’t go out.”
She kept chanting the words over and over. Praying and hoping the electricity would stay on just long enough for her to finish what she was doing and be on her way home.
Cutting a piece of tape, she slapped it on the side of her wrist, securing the bandage in place. She turned her hand over and examined her poor wrapping job. It wouldn’t win any first aid contests, but it should stay on until she got home.
The right hand was going to be a little bit more challenging as she was not left-handed. She was removing the paper towel when she heard a buzzing sound and the lights flickered again. Looking in the mirror on the first aid counter, she noticed that strands of her long hair were pulling away from the rest.
As she was contemplating her whacked out hair style, a loud explosion shook the building, knocking her feet out from under her.
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Patricia Elliott 