#Friday Flashback ~ Out of the Shadows and Into my Book…


This is how Silent PayBack began…

For more than a week now, I have had this new character in my head. He has been following me around, watching my every move. I have tried to talk to him, in my head, you understand, but he has this enigmatic smile, and that’s all I get from him.

I think he wants me to figure out what to do with him, guess what he wants to do but so far, my brain is siding with him and refusing to cooperate.

This morning, I decided I would try to interview him, something I have done before with several of my characters, but you guessed it, he wouldn’t even sit down!

All I know so far is that I do want to write about him, and if I must go through hoops to do it, so be it!

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him nod just then, so it would seem the game is on…

At first glance, he seems an unlikely hero, at least for one of my books. Not very tall, and slender with dark eyes and long hair tied back in a ponytail. Simply dressed in a dark shirt and jeans. But there is an aura about him, he could be a magician, magically producing doves from balls of tissue or flowers from thin air.

He has moved a little closer. I seem to have his full attention…

He is probably something in law enforcement, a police officer or detective, or why would he have turned up on my doorstep? I get killers too, but somehow I know he isn’t one of them. I hadn’t intended to write another crime thriller, I fancied a change, something haunting or spooky perhaps.

There is another character in my head, and although this one looks harmless, all blonde and attractive, the boy next door type. But I know instinctively that he means trouble. Are these two men destined to cross swords? I am beginning to think they are…

I have a lot of thinking imagining to do and to save confusion; I will call the dark haired one David and the blonde William. I already know they are two very different people, and discovering what they are about will be very interesting…

And the rest, as they say, is history…

©Jaye Marie 2020

More Important than Silence!


Image by Pixabay.com

There will be no #Silent Sunday post this week, as I was reading Jill Dennison’s lovely post about Hugging and decided we needed these more…

Here is an excerpt…

“Today is for hugging friends! Hugging has been around for millennia and is practiced by almost all cultures as a way to connect with others without using language. Hugs have traditionally been given in may scenarios: as a greeting or goodbye, for sympathy or congratulations, and for gratitude, support, and affection. The word “hug” seems to have come from “hugga,” an Old Norse word meaning “to comfort.” “Hug” was first used around 1610, to describe a wrestling hold. It began being used for its current meaning in the 1650s.

Hugs may release a hormone called oxytocin into the bloodstream. This hormone, produced in the pituitary gland, helps lower blood pressure, heart rate, and the stress hormone cortisol. It also reduces anxiety, improves mood and memory, and increase bonding and closeness. Those who hug often tend to have increased empathy for others. In order for hugs to be beneficial, those participating must trust each other and both want to hug. Otherwise, the opposite effect happens and cortisol levels rise, causing stress.


Image by Pixabay.com

I love a good hug and feeling sorely deprived of late. So this post is for everybody who feels the same.  Consider yourselves well and truly hugged today!


Image by Pixabay.com


Interference… #Fiction


Image by Alexas_Fotos from Pixabay




There was a knock on my door. Opening it, I asked ‘to who do I owe the pleasure?’

‘Satan.’ I heard him reply with a lop-sided grin, a flash of perfect white teeth. ‘I have come to show you around my kingdom, you have been in His one too long. Follow me, careful not to tread on my tail.’

A flash of smoke, a smell of sulphur and he vanished.

Maybe he was kidding, asking me to follow. I was left with the strangest feeling I had seen this man before. Who could forget those piercing blue eyes?

Shaking myself down thinking I must be overworked, seeing things that weren’t there.

The day bled away like water.

Colleagues smiled, chatted, making jokes. My day had been unchanged. The night, however, danced to a different tune.

Outlandish slaughters, murders of every kind. People in hells torment, Dante’s Inferno. There he was, operating my dreams.

‘This is what you were expecting, wasn’t it?’

‘It’s what we’ve been led to believe. Personally, I don’t believe in you or the other one.

No pitchfork or tail. He must have shed them before taking the helm of my sleeping mind. My private night space. I could have been dreaming of fairies for all I know. Seeing as how I sketch them most days, illustrating our latest acquisition. That’s not to say it’s the only kind of dream I have.

That was meant as an example. As I said, my night space is private. I don’t speak about my dreams, nor wonder what they mean.

As far as I can tell, dreaming is no more than a recycling bin, leftover rubbish from a former life spills out. This blue-eyed wonder seemed to know a lot about my bucket list. I want to travel, Venice, Paris, Egypt, The Rain Forest and Rome, to name but a few.


Over the last five nights, I have travelled to several of my favourite places, thanks to my unwanted benefactor. He managed to take my sleeping mind back in time to the Hanging Gardens of Babylon, Atlantis, the building of Petra, the beautiful pink city that was number one on my bucket list. The Pyramids, brick by brick, were not built by aliens.


One night he told me I could live anywhere, anywhere I choose. All I needed to do was end my life.

There came a blinding flash of life that woke me. My head cracking, a thunderstorm had taken over. Coffee, pills to ease the storm.

My thoughts rearranged themselves. If I believed in the devil, or in God, I would say this invader of my mind is the devil, trying to collect souls. A kind of competition, trying to outdo the Shining One, as my blue-eyed wonder referred to Him one night.


Remembering my RE, I know suicide to be one big sin. I’m not sure it’s one easily forgiven either, but I am the kind of person who likes to hedge their bets, seeing as how none of us knows the outcome of anything, planned or otherwise.

The universe has a way of putting the boot into best-laid plans. So I won’t be taking up his offer to end my life any time soon, to live in a paradise of my own choosing.

So you could say, the good guy, if he exists wins this one…


©anitadawes 2020

Random words… #Poetry


Image by Hans Braxmeier from Pixabay

Random words

I woke up this morning

With an Italian word stuck in my head

The word ‘Clemente’

Meaning merciful.

This happens too often

So I decided to write about it

To see if it would help

Often the words are very strange

So I asked Jaye to look them up

On the computer

There are many times

When the word returns

In some programme we are watching

I wonder what the Universe is trying to tell me

Random words seem to pop into my head

Whenever they feel like it

With no rhyme or reason

That I can understand

If I were to write them down

String them all together

They wouldn’t make a decent sentence

There doesn’t seem to be a reason for it

Maybe I am just nuts

Alternatively, something is trying to fill

The Swiss cheese holes in my head

There must be a lot, for the words keep on coming…

©anitadawes 2020

Mother’s Day…

Many mums will not be receiving any flowers or seeing their children today due to this awful virus, so I thought I would post the prettiest flowers I could find to brighten up the day for all of us!



Image by Mammiya from Pixabay  


Whispering Sisters… #Writephoto ~ Crown #Poetry

Thursday photo prompt: Crown #writephoto



Image by scvincent.com

For visually challenged writers, the image shows a well trodden pathway through a field of mown wheat. The path leads up a hill to a green mound crowned with jagged standing stones.


Whispering Sisters

When I run out of road all I need

are mended words to heal my soul

I cross well-worn tracks

through new-mown wheat

Where whispering stones stand calling

Sharp, stubbled, a bed of nails

Ripping skin as I walk

Is it penance?

The stones whisper louder

carried to me by soft winds

Beware as you stand in the centre

The four sisters will send their warming hug

Are you ready to meet your true self?

Let your troubles fall away like autumn leaves

Bathe your mind in the sweet sound of a choir

As the stones lift their voices for you

The lush green land you stand on is sacred

Remove your shoes, let the energy

Enter the soles of your feet

Are you ready to walk new roads?

Clear of old karma?

As you leave the whispering stones

for new pilgrims, you hear

The music of a new day…

©anitadawes 2020


The Dream Weaver… #Poetry



Image by Speedy McVroom from Pixabay


The Dream Weaver

I told you long ago we would meet again

How are you, after a lifetime

Of following false prophets?

Praying to Gods made of clay

Did you receive all you asked for?

Did I not weave your dreams

with steps for you to follow

whereby you would avoid many pitfalls.

I allowed the memory of your night vision

To remain come morning

Yet you wave them away as a fantasy

Night stuff, I heard you call it

Coincidence is brushed aside, misunderstood

Your life was meant to be the stuff of dreams

Yet here you are after fourscore and ten

Before me once more

Are you ready to start again with

the extra guidance I have spoken of?

Will you listen when you hear

strange whispers in the wind?

Will you follow where I lead

and live the life you prayed for?

©anitadawes 2020


Time to Think Again!



A new week starts, a time when my enthusiasm usually renews itself, but there is a noticeable lack of ‘get up and go’. It was more like, ‘get your arse moving and see what you can muddle through this week!’

Last month’s USB failure, resulting in the loss of three weeks work, has left a sour taste in my soul, leading me to wonder if I should even be doing any of this promotional stuff. I have ended up juggling so many balls; I am in danger of losing sight of the original dream, consumed as I am with the need to find that one magic ingredient that will make it all worthwhile.

It is always possible that I am not destined for greatness, and I am happy to realise that. Relieved, actually, but that will not stop me from trying my best, and improving my work. (At the time of writing, I plan to re-edit my books and update the covers, blurbs and keywords. I have been having a long hard look and not entirely happy with what I see!)

Little by little, I think I am beginning to lose my edge, the ability to juggle everything and still keep my balance. I seem to recall that this has happened to me before, a long time ago. I was in a relationship, and as long as I obeyed the rules and performed as instructed, I was grudgingly allowed to breathe.

Of course, the day eventually came when I needed more than that when I was tired of the constant struggle to be the person that was required. This wasn’t the first time I escaped from tyranny and it wouldn’t be my last, but eventually, I found a better way to live.

My present struggle is beginning to feel the same, and the need to escape is growing again. This presents a problem, for I don’t want to run away from most of it. I have to find a compromise, a way to keep our options open and the dream alive. I have to stop trying everything and anything, looking for the golden goose, who, for all I know, gave up laying eggs a long time ago…