Thursday, March 3, 2016
Tuesday, August 18, 2015
This is my debut novel of 2016. A psychological thriller.
What if you woke up one morning as your worst enemy - the school bully? You're now stuck in the body of your enemy and stuck in her life! She's now you and you are now her. You've been body swapped. She feigns innocence. You're on your own throughout this journey. You now have a drug addiction, an abusive father who once sexually assaulted you and pothead friends. Without her help, how do you find a way out of this crisis?
Sunday, September 16, 2012
Excerpt from Me, Myself & I
swimming
pools and parties every weekend to share their champagne and good laughs with
company; and then there’s me -- the loser.’
Oddly, I heard giggles right in front of me. I recalled turning the television off. Momentarily I glimpsed above the newspaper,
then returned to my depression. Again, I
heard giggles. I lowered the newspaper
only slightly to witness the unbelievable.
A young guest was sitting at the table across from me. I shrieked, nearly falling off my chair then
jumped backed -- standing in shock!
“What? How
did you…?” my mind raced about as I was trying to make sense of nonsense, but I
fell short. She looked just like me when
I was young.
The little freckled-faced kid stopped
giggling. She watched me with
uncertainty, lowering her head, as if she were about to be scolded for doing
something wrong. The child was hugging a
teddy bear. I asked her how she got into
my apartment and, more importantly, who she was. The child said, “You”. Was this some sort of practical joke?
“Missy, what’s your name, dear?” I asked for
clarity.
“Leah Jones.” The child sheepishly responded.
“That’s my name,” I corrected. I noticed her two bottom baby teeth were
missing from that adorable face. Her
brunette hair was clipped back. And
what’s the chances, she wore a blue Garfield
The
fixed stare was rudely interrupted by a tapping of a wine glass. I freaked out as an elderly woman with a hunchback
appeared on the other side of the kitchen table, slouched over on her chair.
“Don’t say it!
Let me guess, you’re the older version of me, right, Leah?” I cleared my
throat looking at the emaciated version of myself, that I will eventually morph
into.
“Correct,” the lady agreed.
“You
visiting ghosts are something else, aren’t you, showing up like out of a puff
of smoke.” I had a thousand questions
and thoughts surface my mind, some spooky, others enlightened.
“If that’s the way you wish to see it,” the lady acquiesced. The thin white-haired elderly sipped on her
wine, relaxing peacefully, as I would routinely do during morning
breakfast.
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