Conversations in the Abyss Opening Chapter

Conversations in the Abyss

Chapter 1

Tormented in grace

The miracle’s fire consumed me.

How long had I been imprisoned here?

Weeks?

Months?

Years?

I knew it was 2011 when the Friar and his team chained me to that monastery wall, but what year was it now?

For too long the chill stone had encased my body and spirit. At first the principal torment had been the miracle. I thought stealing it was a good idea at the time. The blessing had sustained Lazarus for over twenty centuries; the thought it might do the same for me had been a beguiling one. Lazarus had been hell bent on starting the apocalypse and destroying mankind so he could be returned to Heaven. Along the way he’d made the mistake of torturing me.

That memory haunted me still. The moment that I learned that there were people in this world with talents greater than mine. Naturally I’d inflicted my revenge, stealing the curse others labelled a miracle in the process. Unfortunately the theft came with a cost. The price came in the form of the agony blazing through my wasted flesh. This blessing of eternal life didn’t appreciate being worn by another’s skin. The price started immediately weakening me while the Friar, Hammond and his soldiers imprisoned me in the walls of the monastery.

The feel of the sun upon my skin soon faded into a distant memory. Now the only connection I had to the outside world came in the form of muffled chants of the monks. Their hymns and constant
prayers seeped through the walls like damp. Their sacred words combined with the mask fixed to my face and together prevented my spirit from leaving my body.

How I missed having the ability to soar. I yearned to once again roam high above the earth. The world laid out below me as if I flew like a bird. I could do that at will once. I hadn’t used that ability enough.

Even more I missed being able to invade the minds of those I encountered. With a thought I experienced their memories as if they were my own. I could also bend their will with my own like puppets on a string.

At first the miracle and confinement were the only torments I was forced to endure. Strange as it may seem I got used to the suffering. They almost became companions. As time passed new pain entered my world. These started as mundane complaints, hunger pangs in my belly, dryness and then constriction in my throat from thirst. These mundane torments provided some diversion for my bored mind.

For a time I used my gifts to suppress these pains. Eventually the desires of the body overcame my will and along with the miracle they danced through me. They complimented each other, kept my body
wracked and my mind desolate.

Even for me depression and despair proved difficult to hold at bay. My state of mind became a serious concern. The pain simply wouldn’t end. My mind began to crumble under the relentless assault.

I needed something to distract me. Anything that I could focus my mind on, to separate myself from the twisted pains defining my reality. I sought a refuge and turned to the place that almost spelled my doom many years ago.

The abyss became my escape. On the shadowed cliffs above the veil below I found a new home. I didn’t escape the pain completely, but I could hide from it for a while. Sooner or later the pain always
dragged me back to my tormented flesh. But for periods of time I freed myself. I delved so deep within myself I reached the very edge of life.

The abyss itself remained a mystery to me. I now realised it wasn’t the portal to Hell I’d once assumed. After defeating Lazarus I’d glimpsed Hell as his soul was dragged into the pit. When I stared
down into the abyss it wasn’t the same. This was the veil between our lives and what comes next.

More than I had during my earlier life, I considered what that meant. What would come next? I couldn’t deny some afterlife existed beyond death. Not that I really had to worry about that particular fate. After all, the miracle protected me.

As well as my sanctuary, the abyss eventually turned out to be another of my tormentors. Beyond the veil I discerned vague forms moving in the shadows.

I’d first discovered the abyss in my younger days after taking acid. As it had back then the forms became agitated by my presence. 

Beyond those depths was the ultimate escape. An escape denied me by the miracle. It made me immortal. Or pretty damn close to it.

There was no escape in any direction for me.

Conversations in the Abyss is on a half price sale for September only!

The second book in 'The Third Path' trilogy.

Stealing Lazarus’s miracle gifted him immortality. Combined with his natural ability of invading and controlling people’s minds this made him one of the most dangerous people on Earth.

But the miracle came with a price. His punishment was to be imprisoned within the walls of an ancient monastery and tormented by an invisible fire that burned his body perpetually. To escape the pain he retreated deep into his own mind.

There he discovers the truth of the universe and that only he can stop the coming Apocalypse.

Conversations in the Abyss is available from these online stores:

Buy now from Amazon (US): http://amzn.to/1ry7evK
Buy now from Amazon (UK): http://amzn.to/1kdZR6v
Buy now from Barnes & Noble (Nook): http://bit.ly/1kdZWqL
Buy now from iTunes (US): https://itunes.apple.com/gb/book/id647298331
Buy now from iTunes (UK): https://itunes.apple.com/gb/book/id647298331
Buy now from Kobo: http://bit.ly/Radeuc
Buy now from Page Foundry: http://bit.ly/1qKOs1l
Read now on Scribd: http://bit.ly/1mpvJlA

Follow on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/The-Third-Path-Trilogy/135021196680047

Blog Shout Out - 8 Great Storytellers

In this week's blog shout out we visit the 8 Great Storytellers blog. Discover more below:

“8 Great Storytellers” blog sprouted like a strange plant about a year ago as “Visions & Revisions,” a spin-off of eight writers from an oversized workshop. When the spin-off stopped twirling, we widened its focus to include the entire writing process from initial concept to marketing a completed novel. This is a great model for a workshop and has been very effective and a lot of fun.

Every writer, like every spider, needs a web presence. A blog. Growing and feeding a blog takes a lot more effort than most writers can provide. A co-op blog spreads content creation over more people, boosts reach by pooling our contacts, and provides synergy via the group's diverse talents. We created the 8 Great blog at our fortress in the Bavarian alps, during a thunderstorm, using miscellaneous WordPress parts, to cries of, “It's ALIVE! It's ALIVE!”

We are a varied collection of writers, with interests including puzzles, mysteries, surreal fiction, theatre, dogs that do nothing in the nighttime, graphic arts, woodworking, poetry, knitting, sewing, chess, dyslexia, Native American culture, fashion, screenwriting, memoir, peacocks, journalism, book reviews, first-person stories, cuisine, underwater bicycle racing, and ancient Egypt.

In addition to a collective “About” page, our authors each have personal pages with custom headers, photos, bios, and links to their posts and publications. Category pages are provided for anyone venturesome enough to serialize or excerptize a novel. Among us, we have a total of 44 completed books, 60 short works, 16 scripts and over 127 articles.

Our posts are mainly short fiction pieces with a light sprinkling of poems. The blog is still largely experimental, but nothing involving chemicals or cold fusion, so far. First-person articles have drawn a lot of views, propelled by Julie Brown's nudge-o-matic publicity. Book reviews perform well, too, with a little pushing, but I'm most fond of flash fiction.

Upcoming experiments will involve guest bloggers, a blog roll, more extensive graphics, custom artwork, and a few secret projects to be denounced later. You never know what we might be up to. And now I hear something yelling, “FEED ME! FEED ME!” so I'd better go see what the blog wants.

Jeff Guenther for 8 Great Storytellers

Link: http://8greatstorytellers.wordpress.com/

Tuesday Tease - FAG by Jonathan Hill

We have something a little different for this week's Tuesday Tease and that is an excerpt from Jonathan Hill's debut novel 'FAG'. I read this recently and it provided one of my reading highlights for the year. It's a fantastic read and a very emotional story - well worth checking out!

FAG by Jonathan Hill

Excerpt:

“Ah good, I’m glad you’re here, Headmaster.”

Hodges was in the staffroom, again for no apparent reason, but that didn’t matter to Gray right now. He was just relieved that the situation could now be shifted from his own sloping shoulders onto those of Hodges. Gray had once marvelled at the thought that Hodges would probably survive even a direct hit from a bomb, so hard was his exterior. It had occurred to him later on that it was perhaps no coincidence that the most likely survivors of an earth-shattering blast were, amongst other things, rats and cockroaches.

Grace was by the window, stirring a cup of coffee, her back to the room. Gray glanced at her briefly, some part of his mind acknowledging her presence for a fleeting moment, then paid her no further attention, as if she were an insignificant extra in a scene that would inevitably end up on the cutting room floor. One other member of staff was sitting, legs crossed, engrossed in a copy of The Times. Neither seemed to have heard his entrance or his first words. Either that or they just didn’t react, as if he were the insignificant extra.

Hodges turned. “John! You want a word already on the first day back? What have I done to deserve this?”

“I’m sorry, Headmaster, but I have something to report. Perhaps another time would be…” Gray regretted trying to back out the instant the words left his mouth. They had escaped without conscious thought.

“Nonsense, John. Out with it. That’s what I’m here for after all. Just so long as it doesn’t involve a lot of work on my part.” He half laughed without changing his expression.

Gray moved closer to Hodges and lowered his voice. “I have just seen a boy leaving one of the prefect dorm rooms… without a stitch of clothing upon his person.”

Hodges stifled a laugh. “What, nothing? He’d mislaid his clothes?”

“No, he had his clothes. He was carrying them. Well, apart from his underpants which were... which were on his head.”

“On his head,” Hodges repeated, a smile leaking out. Then he shrugged. “So what’s the issue then? You asked the boy what happened?”

“I tried to but he…”

“You questioned the prefects as to what the boy was doing naked in their room?” Hodges appeared to enjoy saying the word ‘naked’.

“No, I tried, but I thought that you ought…”

“John,” he said shaking his head. “You are one of the most brilliant teachers of classical languages that I have ever encountered, if not the most, but you can not just come running to me every time you encounter a little… hiccup. Or any time you need me to fight one of your battles. Where’s your own authority? Stand up to them, man.”

Gray started to reply, garbled his words, started again. “With the greatest respect, Headmaster, I wouldn’t class what I saw as a hiccup… so… what is to be done?”

“What is to be done, John? What is to be done? I don’t really see that anything needs to be done. Boys will be boys, you know that. It seems to me that a harmless prank took place and the boy got his clothes back in the end, so…”

“The boy looked upset, Headmaster.”

Hodges’ face was unmoved. He frowned, inspecting every inch of Gray’s face before grabbing him by the arm and pulling him to one side. “Listen here, Gray,” he whispered with an aggression that was underlined by his use of surname as a means of address. The John of several moments earlier was long gone. “What is our school motto?”

Gray had been temporarily stunned into silence.

“Did you say something?” Hodges asked, despite the fact he patently hadn’t. “Come on, Gray, you out of all of us should know what that fine Latin motto is above our school gates.”

“Ex pueris in viros,” muttered Gray.

“Right. And what does that mean when translated into plain English?”

“From boys to men.”

Hodges clenched his right fist and thrust the air between them both. “Precisely. These boys come here as boys and they leave as bloody strong men, Gray. They don’t get to be men by us pandering to them, wrapping them up in warm blankets and holding spoons to their mouths.” He pointed to the window, to where Grace had been standing, but Gray did not turn to follow his finger. There was something in Hodges’ face that bade him not to look away. He imagined it was the same look he had employed when convincing soldiers beneath him in the Great War to go out and blow themselves to bits. “It’s dog eat dog out there, Gray, and we are doing a disservice to our boys if we leave them with the impression it is anything other than that.”

Gray adjusted the knot of his tie, wishing he had not done it up quite so tightly before his mirror earlier that morning.

Hodges continued. “When I was in Belgium do you know what they did to cowards? To those too weak to go into battle tall, proud, strong?”

Gray knew. Unblinking, he looked at his superior, wondering whether he realised that he had told him this on at least two other occasions. He decided that he did know. Hodges wasn’t going senile. He was as sharp as they came and this speech was carefully-tuned ammunition from the armoury which he used to run his beloved school. He stayed silent. Hodges had put forward his question in such a way that he clearly intended to answer it himself. If Gray were to answer, he had the unnerving feeling it would be akin to loading a pistol with a bullet marked for the roof of his mouth.

Hodges allowed Gray not to answer for a few moments longer before continuing. “They shot them, Gray. They shot them.” He raised his eyebrows. “I have neither the time nor the tolerance for weakness in my school, Gray. Not amongst the pupils… not anywhere.”

Gray knew with sickening certainty that the final words were aimed squarely at him. He merely nodded.

Hodges stood back a pace and smiled. There was nothing remotely amicable in his expression. It was a parting smile, a smile that said the issue was over. Dead, buried. “Good,” he added before marching out of the staffroom, whistling as a gravedigger might at the end of his shift.

Gray turned to face an empty room. At some point, Grace and the other master had left.

Click here to buy FAG from Amazon US / Amazon UK (and it's an incredible read!)

About the Author:

Jonathan Hill burst onto the indie scene as an author in 2012 and has been entertaining readers with his fiction ever since.

After two years of writing short stories and novellas, he published his debut novel, FAG, a landmark in his writing career and, indeed, his life. The book, a stark insight into a 1930s boarding school for boys, is an exploration of important and strikingly relevant themes, some of which are intensely personal to the author himself.

The Maureen books, by contrast, are full of humour. The stories have received much praise, not only for their sheer entertainment value, but also for the way in which their comedy and poignancy are woven together.

His short stories cover a range of genres, from slapstick humour to chilling horror, via drama infused with emotion. He has published two eclectic collections and two 100-word fiction collections, one of which was written with his friend and fellow author, Kath Middleton.

Jonathan lives in Manchester, UK. He enjoys reading, photography and going to the theatre.

www.jhillwriter.com
www.fagthenovel.com

Guest Author Interview - David Paul

Monday means that it's Guest Author Interview day! This week I am joined by David Paul to talk about himself and his latest release 'Snippy the Square Backed Snail: The playground hero'. Discover more below:

Please introduce yourself, who are you and what do you do?My name is David Paul. I've spent my whole life passionately working with all types of "art". I have sold hundreds of oil paintings, dabbled in just about everything.

What first inspired you to start writing?
I think one of the most rewarding things I have experienced with my art, is to see it make a positive impact in other people's lives. Sadly, I was at a viewing with a friend who had recently passed away. I noticed my painting was sitting next to him. The family told me a story that I will never forget. They told me the painting meant so much to him, that he held my painting in his hands while he was passing. Often he would just sit and stare at my painting, and it would give him a lot of comfort during hard times. Knowing that was the last thing that he held, and knowing that it gave him comfort, as he was passing really warmed my heart, which, to me, makes it's all worthwhile. 

And where did the idea for Snippy the Square Back Snail come from?

I first wrote Snippy the Square Back Snail about 10 years ago, when I found out my niece was autistic. I knew she was feeling different than other children and would have to find a way to understand her beauty inside. Her mother, who was a volunteer at the school, would read my story to the kids and they would beg to have it read over and over. The feeling you get when you know you've helped children feel good about themselves is addicting. It took me a while to get into publishing my stories, but now that I have I'm hooked.

What is your favourite word?
My favorite word is "why". I think sometimes we never get to the solution of the issues we face because we are always focused on the problem. 


If you could spend a day with anyone from history, who would it be and why?

If I could spend time with anyone in history it would be Jesus Christ. I feel he could tell me things that no one else ever could. He has always inspired me to do my best.


What challenges do you face when writing a story for children?
My biggest challenge with writing is spelling and grammar. Thank goodness my wife helps me with that. We make a great team. I'm the creative artist who draws and write stories and she structures them for me. My next biggest challenge is finding time alone to do it. I think I'm going tape a "Do Not Disturb" sign on my door from now on.

What do you find most rewarding with your writing??

When I received my first book in print, "Snippy the Square Back Snail" I was thrilled. Nothing really described seeing all your hard work finally put together in a book. When I see children completely absorbed in the pages of my book it always gives me such a rush! I hear stories of children begging their parents to read my story to them over and over again and, it just feeds the fuel I need to continue writing and drawing more books. 


What advice would you give new and aspiring authors?

My advice to struggling authors is this. Writing children's books is a rewarding and hard road. It is not a get rich quick option for most. What helps me, is to focus on my goal, which for me is, to enrich the lives of children who read my stories. There's nothing more rewarding to me than to watch children enjoy my books. Don't ever give up on your dreams. Leaving my books for my children's children when I'm gone, is reward enough for me.


What are you working on at the moment?

I have quite a few stories that I'm working on right now. I have an educational coloring book for kids to enjoy that ties in with the Snippy the Square Back Snail story. I also have a new story called Morend-Master of the Rainbows end. It is a fairy tale about a whale that has special powers. The kids learn a valuable lesson of friendship and unconditional love for others. I also have a bully book being published this Halloween 2014, that has a magical twist in it. Includes a witch and a man who is cursed by the witch by turning into a tall clumsy pumpkin man every Halloween. The pumpkin man helps a little girl who gets bullied by his pumpkin patch. I'm very excited to see these in print.


Tell us about your latest work and how we can find out more.

All my books are published through Createspace in Amazon. You can find Snippy the Square Back Snail on amazon.com in print and kindle format.

Click here to buy Snippy the Square Backed Snail from Amazon US / Amazon UK

New Drabble - The Space In-between

My latest standalone drabble has been featured in today's Indie Book Bargains newsletter and copied below. It's Lovecraft inspired tale that's the kernel for a book idea that has been peculating in the back of my mind for a while.

If you've not read my other standalone drabbles then you'll find them all here:

http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/100-word-stories.html

The Space In-between

There is a secret hidden deep inside the heart of the universe. A terrible reality which once challenged the power of the divine. In a war spanning our universe and beyond the elder beings almost destroyed everything that was and what might yet come to be.

Those who survived imprisoned the horror inside a maze of nothingness. Only the complex space in between could contain their impossible forms. Their presence creates quantum chaos to what was once mathematical precision.

No faith alone can unlock their prison, but science has the key.

The elder ones await our discoveries with keen hunger.