Excuses aside however I am desperately trying to finish my next book before the end of this year.
Now before I let you see the exert from the book I want to explain a bit about it. This book is the very first book that made me seriously consider being a writer. Over ten years ago now, the idea for this book randomly sprang into my mind one day. However being young and not having much direction in my life back then as a teenager I never followed the idea through. But needless to say that book idea has stayed with me all this time.
When I published my first book at the beginning of this year, i'd decided to go with a simple and easy to read romance book because I do love anything to do with love! But my first love when it comes to book genres is anything supernatural/paranormal and that's always been the direction i've wanted my writing to go in. It just seemed a little bit out of reach to me as a first novel, having had no experience writing novels before - hence why I published a romance first. Now I was going to wait, publish a few more romance books and gain some valuable experience in order to help me write things of a more complex nature but just recently i've felt desperate to finish my first idea for a novel and I consequently have big plans for it.
This is the first book in a series - though at the moment I am unsure how many more books there will be to follow it, maybe one, maybe two, i'm not entirely sure; i'm just going to see where the writing takes me.....
So here goes - please find below an exert from book one in the Althea Academy series - Eden.
Any comments/thoughts you may have are always welcome.
When I was a child I used to have the most bizarre and strangely animated dreams.
I dreamed of faraway lands that no one knew existed and people with super human powers existing knowingly among us.
My mother and father always used to tell me that I had a wonderful imagination to dream up such fantastic stories and that I should embrace it, revere it and be proud that I was capable of such imaginary wonder. They would laugh gleefully at my stories, as though I was the world’s best story teller and as a child I gratefully accepted their adoration.
So I would spend endless hours acting out my dreams in reality with my best friend Daniel. We would play in my garden from sun up to sun down, pretending to be super heroes, laughing with the frivolity of it all, as kids do, as we pretended to save people from baddies who could incinerate you with fire balls from their hands. In my early years I could think of no better way to spend a day.
Only as the years passed, my once awe inspiring dreams became nightmares I could never have imagined; the bad people gradually started to turn into unthinkable monsters that I could not even comprehend; monsters who did unspeakable things with such malice a child could never understand. They gave me chills even in my waking moments and I was too scared to think about them, let alone pretend to fight against them with my pretend powers which felt altogether less powerful somehow by comparison.
So we stopped playing our favourite make believe game, Daniel and I, from then onwards. And I faced the unavoidable nightly dreams by myself; throwing myself into life any way I could think of in order to exhaust myself in the hopes of a deep dreamless slumber each night.
I questioned my sanity on more than one occasion as I grew up; seeing how happy and content all of my friends were with their lives, seemingly unaffected by nightmarish entities who felt so real I could almost touch them.
But as the years passed, the older I got and with help from a psychiatrist my parents insisted I go to, the dreams plagued me less and less until one day they stopped happening altogether. And now as a teenager I could hardly remember the other worlds I’d created in my head or the happiness and comfort I’d felt at being around the fictitious people with super human strength.
But I never forgot the nightmares, no matter how hard I tried; the monsters, the bad people who made my skin crawl and the other one that haunted me even now to this day. I never forgot about her; the girl with the red tipped hair and black ink crawling up her neck, staring back at me with a passionate fire in her eyes. She was more terrifying than any of the others I’d ever dreamed of.
Why was this fierce looking girl more frightening than some big ass scary monsters, you ask?
Well that was easy.....
She was scary because she was me.
My name is Eden Jefferson and this is a story of how you shouldn’t always believe your parents when they tell you nightmares are just a figment of an over active imagination; sometimes your worst nightmares are real.