Sneak Peak Chapters 2 & 3 released!!

CHAPTER 2

The small town of Burlington, Massachusetts was far from the busy streets of Boston, and not half as exciting, but Aaron Belle had made his home here. As the youngest man ever to achieve the rank of detective within the Burlington Police Department, he was proud of his accomplishments, even though he quietly longed for more. Had he not taken the position of police officer for the small town of Burlington when he had, then he certainly would not be in the position he was in today. Aaron had worked very hard to make his way through the ranks of the department and now that he had succeeded, he understood that the busy streets of Boston might not have been the best place for him to be. After all, he thought, everything happens for a reason, and it might not always be the way we plan it, but it’s always the way it’s meant to be.


As a detective here in this small town there was usualy not much more than petty theft cases for him to investigate, but it was good work, and something that he loved to do. Burlington might not have been the largest of communities in the state, but they had their share of problems just as anyone else had. Burlington had been the type of town where new couples came to settle in and make families. That being the case there was never a shortage of bored teenagers doing things that they should not be doing. That in itself was usualy enough to keep Aaron busy. Having grown up in this town he knew that the teens here were generally harmless, they just needed more to do.

The center of town was the home of the Burlington Mall. A large upscale mall that might not have had the type of stores a teenager would normally shop in, but it did give them someplace to hang out. A typical Friday or Saturday night usually found the mall to be packed full of teenagers and slightly younger children wandering and causing trouble. It was an extremely normal sight to see a soccer mom pull up in front of the large glass doors of the mall in her mini van. The side door of the van opening and releasing a small flood of youths ready to spend hours doing nothing at all. Mothers and fathers would then spend the rest of the night dining out or perhaps seeing a movie, expecting the mall security and local police to watch over the children they had had enough of for the week.

They were good kids, Aaron had always thought to himself, they just needed someone to give a shit once in a while and not just drop them off at a mall or movie theater. Before he had become a detective, Aaron often took the weekend detail at the mall, assisting security in what was not so fondly known as babysitting patrol. This had always been a detail that Aaron was good at, considering that he was a younger guy, he had a few tattoos and knew about most of the music that the locals were listening to. It also didn’t hurt that Aaron made a habit of talking to the local teens like they were in fact humans, and not just dismissing them as others had. Having once been a local teen himself, he knew that it was a life not easy to live, with never anything to do, and rarely anyone that cared enough to do it with. Burlington sat just outside of a large corporate city and that was where most of the mothers and fathers of the town spent their time.

The best part of it for Aaron was that he had found himself with the ability to converse with the local youth, knowing that if anything did happen, they trusted him enough to speak with him about it. This was something that Aaron had always found to be incredibly useful. There was very little that went on through the small town in the way of major crime, but when something did happen, Aaron had very little trouble getting to the bottom of it. The rapport that he had been able to establish with the locals was a great tool to have for a man in a position such as his.

It was also something that his mentor, and training officer could never understand. More than twice the age of Aaron, Jack Willis often paid little attention to the youth of the town. He was far more focused on playing out his few remaining days before retirement safely and trying to make sure they were uneventful. It was Jack’s job to make sure that Aaron would be fine for whatever his future as a Burlington police detective might hold for him, however, it more often than not seemed that it was Aaron that taught Jack a thing or two about dealing with the generation of today.

Jack Willis was a typical old school detective. His aged leathery face rarely showing any expression at all. In the eyes of Jack Willis, if you were not a cop, than you might as well not exist. The youth of the town were going to be very happy when Jack finally decided to retire, knowing that the old man and his ways of policing the community were as out dated as the clothes he wore.



CHAPTER 3



The old Victorian building sat just slightly outside of the center of Burlington, deep in a section of the old town that at one time was exclusive to the rich, and well off. Now however, owning such a large old house was impractical in this area. The harsh New England winters made places such as this far too expensive to keep as a single family home. This building, and others like it in this neighborhood had all now suffered the same fate. Its many rooms had been dissected and sectioned off to make office space for smaller businesses and doctors. The building was old and creaked with age, its floors and walls sending out the slight musty odor of age. The rooms and hallways always dim, surrounded by dark mahogany wood and faded wallpaper. No matter how many lamps were turned on, it never seemed to be able to shed enough light throughout the aged building. It was the creepy feel of the surroundings that made Angela Smiles never want to be here, but it was something she needed to do for her son Jeffery. A text book member of the tortured soul generation, Jeffery Smiles was just barely fifteen years old, and already carried the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Black on black clothing hung lazily over his thin pale frame. Jet black hair hung down one side of his face covering his black eyeliner-accented eyes. His style, like many other kids his age in this town, fell teetering on the line between neo-gothic and emo. Emo, a slightly new phase for teenagers was starting to be something more and more popular. Emo stood for emotional, and had become more of a life style than just a type of fashion. A lifestyle that usually led to teens cutting themselves with razor blades, not in an actualy attempt to harm themselves, but usually because the feeling of pain was far better than the feeling of nothing at all. Jeffery was no exception to this activity, although thus far he had been able to hide the small thin cuts within his flesh in places where no one would usualy look. The blade never going deep enough into the skin to cause real damage served solely as a life line to pull the emotional youths back into reality. Something to keep them tied to the life we live every day.

Angela Smiles sat in the Victorian style chairs that lined the waiting room for the office of Doctor Alyssa St. Claire, family psychiatrist and therapist to the community. Thumbing her way half-heartedly through a copy of People magazine that was several months old. She understood completely that these weekly meetings were a necessity for her son, but the sheer boredom of the silent waiting room was starting to wear on her nerves. Had her husband Michael not always been tied up with work, she would surely make him bring Jeffery to these appointments, considering that she had a much better bond with Jeffery’s sister Jennifer, than she did with Jeffery. It wasn’t that she didn’t love Jeffery with all of her heart. Of course she did. But Jeffery, as a typical teen boy, wanted very little to do with his mother. Unfortunately he wanted very little to do with his father as well, which was one of the many reasons these meetings were necessary.

Jeffery would spend a great deal of his time during the week complaining about the visits he would have to have with Dr. St. Claire. Stating that he had no need for them, and any problems he might have, he could deal with on his own. Secretly however, he loved his meetings with Dr. St. Claire, knowing that he could say anything there and not have to worry about his parents finding out. He knew that he could be himself and not worry about the ramifications. He knew that the doctors office was one of the few places he could tell his secrets. Some secrets however, he would keep to himself, and rightfully so. He knew if he told anyone about them, anyone at all, they would surely have him locked away, thinking that he was a danger not only to himself, but to those around him. Locked away to the point that they would never let him out again, and that was something that Jeffery wanted no part of.

He had no idea of whether or not his friends had the same visions that he had, but he did know that if they did, they surely never talked about them. Aspirations of world domination was something that never came up as a topic of conversation at the cafeteria lunch table. Not with his friends, and not with anyone else at the school that he was aware of. These thoughts and visions were sometimes so brutal in their bloodlust that they would frighten even Jeffery, added fuel to the fire that already raged out of control in Jeffery’s mind. Jeffery knew for certain that he was far better than all of those around him, adults, or people his age. He was something special, something that could change how all of mankind lived their life, and that he would one day stop at nothing to prove. He could see the future, and manipulate people with his mind. There was little doubt in his mind that he was far better than everyone he knew.

These however, were thoughts and visions that would never be spoken about in front of Dr. St. Claire. These were things that he could never talk about with anyone. They would simply sit in the dark corners of his mind until it was time for any of them to become reality. That would be the day they would all be sorry. Anyone who had ever teased him, made fun of him, or bullied him, would pay for what they had done, and there was nothing, or no one that would be able to stop him. His darkest of secrets kept locked away deep within him, knowing that if he were to ever talk about them freely, they would lock him away. He couldn’t allow that to happen, not if he planned to follow through with plans that had been laid out in his imagination for most of his life. Plans that he had always thought would never be a difficult thing to follow through with. The idea of taking another person’s life was something that he felt he would be able to do with very little problem. It couldn’t be all that difficult to take the life of another. He had already done this from time to time with small animals, so a human might not be that different, just larger. He knew however that if any of these thoughts had come out during a sit down session with the good doctor, he would never get the chance. It wasn’t so much that he desired the chance to take another humans life, as much as he was prepared to do so should anyone get in his way. He wasn’t sure of what his placement in the new world evolution might be, but he suspected that it was an important one.

Jeffery might have only been fifteen, but already at his age, he felt that he could do just about anything if he put his mind to it. It just had to be something that he truly wanted to do. Silly things like school and so on held little interest for Jeffery, and required little attention from him. He did only what he needed to in school, and nothing more. Always enough to get by without involvement or unwarranted concern from his parents, or other figures of authority. The last thing Jeffery wanted to do was spend any amount of time explaining to adults why he wasn’t living up to his full potential in school. Jeffery had long ago decided that it was best to stay as an average student, doing average things and always keeping himself just under the sights of adult radar. By doing this, if the time to take his place in the new evolution ever arose, then they would never see it coming, he thought. It would be so much better to take them all by surprise, and then leave them wondering what the hell had happened. All of this is what ran through Jeffery’s mind as he spoke to Dr. St. Claire. Thoughts rolled endlessly around in the back of his mind while on the outside, he tried to say everything that he knew the good doctor wanted to hear.

Dr. St. Claire sat across from Jeffery in an overstuffed chair that looked more like it might be for lounging rather than discussing things with a patient. She had a pleasant way about her. Long dark brown hair and a full face. She was a rather round woman that always seemed to have a smile on her face, accenting her rosy cheeks. She had always dressed herself in business casual, but it amused Jeffery that he had never seen her in any other color than black. It seemed to suit her however. She had a slight olive tone to her skin which seemed to accent well with the dark clothing. She sat in her chair, as she had every week, leaning slightly to one side, chin resting on one hand, leg crossed and a notebook on her lap. She spent the majority of time in these weekly meetings asking Jeffery how he was doing in school, and how he might be spending his spare time. Eventually the stereotypical “How do you feel about that” question popped up and brought the conversation to other directions.

Almost like a well trained animal Jeffery always knew just what to say. After all he had been doing this for years, and it didn’t take him long to understand that therapy sessions, no matter who they were with, could be very easily manipulated. He knew that if you told them almost anything they wanted to hear, things would go much more smoothly, and that mother would receive a thumbs up explanation after the session. Angela Smiles would never get anything more than a “Jeffery seems to be doing well, and is making progress with his sessions” if Jeffery had anything to do with it. Giving Angela anything more than that to work with might make things harder for Jeffery, he thought. Smile and nod, tell them what they want to hear, and never let on to anything else. This was a personal code that Jeffery thought he had to live by. No one really knew for sure what the future held, but Jeffery suspected it was going to be something good, and he wanted so very badly to be a part of it.

The meeting would soon come to an end as it always had, and Jeffery would leave the office together with Dr. St. Claire. Angela and the good doctor would go into her office for just a moment, speaking privately about the meeting and any recommendations that she might have, and then they would be done for another week. Jeffery knew that this was a necessary evil, a game that he had to play with these people, but he never minded. He would do what he felt had to be done until he thought the time was right. Jeffery waited until the office door closed until he stepped quietly across the waiting room to a point where he could hear what was being said. He moved his head closer to the door, facing his ear as close as he could get it without actualy touching the door itself. This was something that he often did at the end of the weekly meetings. He considered it to be somewhat of a self preservation thing. Making sure that the doctor was telling his mother only what he wanted her to know.

“Jeffery is doing pretty well”. The doctor said. “He seems to be making a lot of progress with the things that he’s been feeling, and the depression factor doesn’t seem to be as strong now”. Jeffery smiled quietly inside of himself. Thinking he had succeeded yet again in his little game. Angela then thanked the doctor and assured her they would be back the same time next week. Jeffery quietly rushed back to his seat, trying to make it look like he had been there the entire time. His mother and the doctor stepped out of the office and Jeffery stood up, ready to leave. Angela reached out in a somewhat loving manor to embrace her son, a young man she loved more than anything, but simply did not understand.

Jeffery and his mother left the building and walked through the small parking lot to their silver SUV. It was not going to be a long ride back to the house, but for the both of them the time spent getting there would seem like an eternity. Angela never had any idea of how to talk to her son, and Jeffery was never eager to spark up a conversation. They would do as they had done every week for the past few years of Jeffery’s therapy. After a good meeting with the doctor, Jeffery was rewarded with a trip to the video store. There he could rent movies and games if that’s what he wanted to do. After that they would get some sort of take out dinner and bring it home to the rest of the family.

Angela would often rent a movie that the entire family could watch in hope that is just what would happen. Jeffery had little desire however to spend time with anyone other than the few friends he had at school. It was a small group of teens that he had usually spent his time with, but those were the people that Jeffery had considered to be his family. He had always been much closer to them than he had ever been with his blood relatives. This was simply how Jeffery wanted things to be, regardless of how his mother, father or anyone else felt about it. The small amount of time that Jeffery had spent at his house, was usually done so in his room, on his computer, listening to his music. He would spend hours on end chatting with his friends over instant messaging services. He felt that it was his escape from a world that he wanted no part of.

This is the way things were, the way he wanted them to be, and that was exactly how he had intended them to stay until the time was right. Until the time that he would make everything better for himself, and those he truly loved, his friends. He saw nothing wrong with it, and cared very little if anyone else had.

SNEAK PEEK! Release of "Jeffery Smiles" Chapter #1!!!

CHAPTER 1




Christian Darks never wanted to be a member of the “new evolution”. Not when he was fourteen years old, using his special abilities to help find a child that had been lost for several days, and not now at the age of twenty four, just trying to make his way in the world as an emergency medical technician. His mother had always told him that he was special, and that he had special gifts. Gifts that allowed him to see things that other people could not. Sometimes the future, and sometimes the past, but what he had been able to see was always linked to death in some way. He spent the better part of his life so far in constant contact with what he had come to know as a spiritual guide. An imaginary friend that even through his older years never left his side. An imaginary friend that he would come to understand, had nothing to do with his imagination at all. Joshua, as Christian knew him, was in fact very real, or at least he had been at one time.

Always appearing to Christian as a boy of approximately ten years old, dressed in what looked to be clothing for a young man of the early 1800’s. A white loosely fitting linen shirt, bloused over his small frame. Black wool pants, much tighter than the shirt, with the pant legs ending about half way down his pale white shins. His feet were usualy bare, but sometimes he would have brown leather shoes on, looking as though they had been handed down from a big brother, slightly larger than he might have needed and well worn with age. His face, innocent yet terrifying. Straight black hair just slightly above shoulder length and eyes of almost emerald green. His cheeks slightly rounded, still holding on to some of the childhood fat a boy of his age might have. He never spoke a word, but had always managed to get his point across to Christian, whatever it might be he would have to tell him.

Like any younger child, Joshua was often moody, and would reflect that in the way he would show himself to Christian. Over several years and lengthy amounts of research, Christian had come to understand that at the age of just ten years old, Joshua had died here in Salem Massachusetts, an innocent victim of a tragic house fire. For the most part, Joshua would show himself as the care free young boy that he should be, but that would change with his moods, or the severity of his news.

If Joshua was angry, or insistent about something he was trying to tell Christian, then he would often appear as a frightened child, burning and writhing in pain. Flesh dropping off in melted chunks as the flames licked away at his innocence. If Joshua was sad, or depressed about something, he would appear as the charred remains that had been pulled from the smoldering rubble of his family’s home. If he was feeling mischievous in any way, then he would often appear in different stages of burn scars, never looking quite the same twice. All of these were faces that had tormented Christian over the years, and became part of the reason that he had tried so hard to block out what ever gifts his mother might have thought he had. Christian always thinking to himself that this was the one gift that he wished more than anything that he could return. He never asked for anything like this, and could never understand why something like this had happened to him.

His mother had always tried to make him accept the visions that he had. Attempting to make him use his talents for the betterment of all men. At least that’s what she would tell him. “You have a gift from the gods Christian, and that’s something you should use to bring all men into the new evolution”. she would say. Christian scuffed at the idea of a new evolution. Often thinking to himself that if man had ever wanted to evolve into something more enlightened, then he would have done so by now. For the life of him, he could not think of any one way that his “talents” could ever bring all of mankind into a better understanding of itself. To him, it was nothing more than another one of his mother’s pipe dreams, and as she was a product of the sixties, pipe dreams was something she had a great deal of. Donna Darks had never officially made it out of the sixties, and even after all of these years, it appeared that she still had no intention to.

She had always been a fair mother, at best, and certainly more lenient than his friends mothers had been, and for that, Christian had always considered himself somewhat lucky. His father had been long gone from the picture before Christian had even entered into the world, so with his mother often on her own plane of reality, Christian was left to be his own man. She was always there for guidance and protection, but she had never been much of a companion. She had however, always treated him well, and made sure that he was loved and cared for, even if it was done in sometimes misguided ways.

The same was done when dealing with the visions that Christian had always had. She had a certain charm about her when dealing with such a subject. Christian tried as hard as he could to ignore the visions, but Joshua was often extremely insistent. Terrified by the visions, Christian would scream out in fear and his mother would always rush in to be by his side. Comforting him, cradling him in her loving embrace and telling him that everything would be ok. Christian could remember holding on to his mother for dear life in those instances, and no other moment would he feel as close to her. She would explain to him, in a soft motherly voice that the visions he had were nothing to be afraid of. They were something special that only he could see, and that was something that he should embrace. Christian however, was less than convinced.

Christian’s mother had always referred to him as “her indigo child”. It wasn’t until late within his teen years that he would understand what that meant. Indigo referred to a type of child that apparently had some sort of gift, be it the ability to communicate with the dead, or read peoples’ minds. This is when the thought of the “new evolution” had come into play. The new evolution was something that people who believed in indigo children held tightly to. The belief being that indigo children were in fact the wave of the future. A new breed of human. Children that had been classified as “indigo” were in fact believed to be the next evolution of human being. All of these thoughts were just far too much for Christian to grasp. He often thought his mother was just like any other mother; a mother telling people that her child is more special than anyone else was just something a mother was supposed to do. Like all mothers with pictures of their children, exclaiming theirs was the cutest child on the face of the planet. It was just something that mothers did, and something he would eventually shrug off.

Christian had never played to much into the idea of indigo children. Not until he had reached adulthood anyway, and started too read more and more about it. His thought now was that there just might be something to all of this. He doubted heavily that he was a part of some sort of new evolution, but perhaps there just might be something special about him after all. Throughout his life he had met very few people that had, or talked about having the same type of abilities that he had. This fact in itself might mean that there were very few people like him; truly like him anyway. There was no shortage of people who claimed to have the same abilities, especially here in Salem Massachusetts. Its historic roads seemed to be paved with little shops that all featured some sort of psychic who might be able to converse with those that had passed on. Christian had tried many time to speak with these people, in hopes that he would find someone who might understand what he was going through. Time and time again however, it was to no avail. Christian was always able to spot something in what those people were saying or doing that just didn’t seem to make sense. It wasn’t long before he had decided that speaking to thease people was little more than a waste of time. Either he was crazy, and didn’t have these gifts, or they were, and were actualy nothing more than frauds. Either way, Christian would soon come to understand that there would be no easy answers for him here on the cobblestone streets of Salem Massachusetts.

Christian had decided that it would be better for him, if he did have these gifts, to rely on the little ghost child that he had come to know as Joshua. After so many years of thinking that Joshua was nothing more than an imaginary friend, Christian had finely started to accept that he was real. Christian however still tried very hard to live a normal life. Working as an emergency medical technician, and living in his modest apartment was just enough to keep him grounded through all of this, or so he thought. He found new ways to deal with Joshua and his interruptions; something that had never been an easy task for him. During the day, if Joshua had something to tell Christian that just couldn’t wait, Christian would picture responding to Joshua in his mind, and thus far, that seemed to be working for the both of them. When Christian was alone, in his apartment, he would often speak with Joshua being slightly more audible. He kept a large five subject college ruled notebook that he called his journal. Christian would scribble within it’s pages, all of the encounters he had with Joshua; every vision, every name, and any other information he could gather from the meeting.

The journal had been something that he had been doing for years, and years of doing so now meant that there were several volumes lining the bookshelves of his apartment. Christian always thought to himself that someday, there would be enough of a story there to write a book or something. He was sure that if he was ever given the chance, whatever book he might be able to write based on the journals was sure to be a best seller. Always thinking to himself that if this was something he was going to have to live with, then he might as well try to make something of it.

Christian could never definitively answer the question of whether or not he was an “indigo child”. It was just something that he was never truly sure of. To him, having a label such as that meant very little. To his mother however, it was the largest part of what made Christian the person that he was. This was something that his mother would battle with psychologists and psychiatrists for many years. All through his life, Christian’s schools and teachers would make recommendations to send him to therapy of one sort or another. Mostly because, at younger ages, Christian knew very little about controlling his interactions with Joshua. As a young child Christian never thought himself to be any different from any one else within his class rooms. He had always thought that everyone had a Joshua of their very own. He would go to the psychologists, never thinking anything differently of himself. Eventually his mother would protest, shouting up and down that there was nothing wrong with her child, and he shouldn’t be treated any differently than any of the other boys and girls.

As he became older, Christian learned to pay little attention to the battles his mother would fight behind the closed doors of the principals offices. Christian listened to his mother yell, thinking occasionally that he might be a little strange, or even crazy, but never bothered to much by any of it. Even if he was, he and his mother both understood that there were no medications that they could put him on that would make his life any better, or even different for that matter. Joshua was just a part of Christian, like it or not, and that’s how things were going to be. Christian would grow into adulthood, never talking about Joshua much, and Christian’s mother would stay on the sidelines, always letting Christian grow as a man, but defending and protecting him whenever needed.

He might not have been one of the popular kids growing up, but Christian never held back from being the person he wanted to be. Christian was now a self sufficient twenty-four year old man, living on his own and making his way in life. The visions and voices still haunted him to this day, but never got to him the way they used to. Christian had often heard people talking about wanting to have the very same abilities that he had. They might not have known that he had those powers, but they talked about it just the same. They always seemed to him to be wishing for something that they couldn’t possibly understand. He often thought that if they understood the gift at all, they would never wish to have it. He would often remember something that his mother used to tell him. “Those that have the gift, never want it, and those that don’t, always wish they did”. The statement in itself had never done much to ease his pains or solve any of his issues, it merely gave him another way to look at the world around him.

By this point in his life, all those things were simply just a part of him now. He paid little attention to them for the most part, perhaps in hopes that someday they would just go away completely. Being able to see and communicate with the dead was not exactly something that you would go around telling people, not if you didn’t want people to think you were crazy. Christian tried his very best to make sure that he fit in with all of the people around him. He had become an attractive young man, keeping himself well groomed and looking as good as he could at all times. He had short brown hair and hazel eyes that always seemed to sparkle somewhat in the sunlight. He was tall and slim, but not in that “someone give that boy a sandwich” way. He had turned out to be the happy boy next door type of guy, and someone who had made his mother very proud.

He stayed here, in this small seasonal tourist town, close to his mother, who worked in some of the quaint witchcraft based gift shops that lined the streets of Salem Massachusetts. He worked in the area, and had a small group of close friends, many of them he had gone to school with. His best friend, Timmy Sullivan, worked as a police officer for the small city of Salem, and had always found a way to be connected with Christian. Not far from his modest apartment was what just might have been his favorite destination in the entire world. A long stone and sand walk to a small white light house overlooking the historic harbor of the city. On clear spring days he would get himself a small lunch for he and his mother and they would make the long walk to the light house. Sitting on the edge of the stone wall looking out as the sail boats made there way in and out of the waterways. It was at these moments that Christian had always thought to himself that he would never leave this place. He couldn’t imagine why anyone would want to. This was his home, and this is where people accepted him for the person he was.

     "I'm going to give you my skin" He said. She stopped what she was doing, and looked at him with a confused look. "What are you talking about"? She asked. "My skin, you've been tattooing it for years now, it's only right that you have it when I die". The words came from his mouth, like they had been something he had rehearsed for weeks. There was no emotion on his face, no way to tell if he was joking or not. That was the type of person he was. He could tell you something with a completely straight face, and you would never be able to tell if what he was saying was true or not. Of course, he had that way about him as well. One look into his eyes and immediately you felt like you were under his control. He was just that type of person, and she had known that about him, since the first time she had first pressed her needle into his skin. She was the first person to ever tattoo him, and she knew that she would be the last. It had been almost three years since she started to ink his body, and she was starting to run out of space.


     "Something tells me that you're going to be around long after I'm gone" She said. A vein attempt at trying to steer off of the slightly morbid subject. She never minded morbid, she could be just as dark as anyone else. There was something about the words he was saying. They seemed to go right through her. It was as if she not only knew that he was being completely serious, but that this was something that was going to happen soon. "No, I'm almost done". He said. The very words sent chills down her spine. His words, his attitude, was different now than it had always been. The fun loving care free person that she had always loved to be around was completely different now. Darker, even for him.

     She had always been one of those people that didn't want the details if she didn't need them. "If it doesn't affect me directly, I don't want to know shit about it" She would always say. She had always classified herself as "a no bullshit kind of gal". She had done more than three hundred tattoos on the man that now sat in her chair. All of them almost the same. A skull that she had drawn out, specifically for him. The only difference was one small detail, just above the eyes of the skull. Each one of them had been numbered individually, and each one of them had a small designed, just above the number. For some it was a specific type of flower, or a small jewel. A few of them even had a small imoticons from computers. They were all the same, but all unique in their own right. She was just finishing the number on her latest piece of fleshy art, 313, with a small Chevrolet bow tie symbol about it. The man said not another word, and she had no desire to continue the conversation. She pulled the needle from his flesh, and placed it on the stainless steel tray that had been sitting beside her. She picked up a paper towel and folded it in half, spraying it with an antibacterial soap mixed with water in a planter spray bottle. She lightly pulled the moist towel across the mans skin, wiping away the blood and excess ink. "You're all done, make sure it looks ok". She said. "Oh, I know that it's more than ok, it's perfect" He said as he stood up from the chair. Another addition to the collection, another body in the pile of bones.

I just got off the phone with the publisher, and everything seems to be going along very well. In the next few weeks to come we will be working on design of the book, cover set up and page formatting. I know it doesn't sound all that exciting, but it sure is on this end. "Jeffery Smiles" is becoming a reality, and I could not be more pleased. I apologize, but I don't have a lot to put in the blog for the moment, mostly because I need to get to work on other things, "Jeffery" being one of them. I'll write more later on after the dust has settled.

     After I completed Jeffery, I sat here in front of a computer that holds more than twenty books I have written, all in different stages of completion. So many thoughts and possibilities going through my mind, wondering where I wanted to take things next. Jeffery was an unexpected book. It was never supposed to be written, and was certainly never intended to be my debut novel. Now, my first book was supposed to be something completely different, but I knew as I looked at it that it was nothing more than a one shot deal. It had nothing to do with the horror fiction, that find myself entangled with. I felt that if I took on that book, it would have to be long after I had established myself as a horror novelist.




With so many ideas floating around in my head, it was hard for me to decide what book I was going to do next, and what book might be worth the effort. Then it dawned on me. When I posted a portion of the prolog to "Jeffery Smiles" on the face book fan page, I got some comments about it expressing an interest in that particular story. The story of a young psychiatrist, fresh out of college and starting a new job at the famed Danvers state hospital. The horrors that he would witness and the things that he would see. I must say that having had my own experience within the walls of Danvers state hospital, I find myself rather drawn to the story.

When I was a child, my mother worked at the facility in the administration building, and I had spent many times visiting here there. Later in life, after it had closed, and before it was foolishly made into condominiums, I was lucky enough to participate in a paranormal investigation of the property, where I had uncovered startling evidence of intelligent spiritual activity. Yes, with all of this in mind, I think the answer is very clear. The story of the "Castle on the hill" is a story that simply must be told.

     Jeffery has been completed and is just about ready to hit the printers. A few last minute tweaks for cover and design and everything should be fine. With this in mind I have set my eyes on other projects. I had originally promised myself that the second book I would complete would be "The North Tower". This was to be my spin on the world of the vampires. However, I have recently been stricken with inspiration to elaborate on the story that makes up the prolog of "Jeffery Smiles". The story, for the most part, would take place at the locally famed Danvers state hospital. A place that for many years the true embodiment of fear and horror.



     "Castle on the hill" would follow Dr. Phillip Freemen through the days of his employment at Danvers State. The horrors that would unfold before his eyes, the group that would be called "The 6", and ultimately his decision to create "The Commune of Loving Light".


     I think perhaps this just might be the path that I travel. It seems that the more it crosses my mind, the darkened door ways open up.

To dance with the dead in the darkest of shadows is where you might find me. Walking the thin line between fear, and contentment is where I like to tread. A conversation with memories past, sitting in the castle on the hill. As my first blog entry, this shall serve as an introduction to my mind. A place where I might be able to share my darkest of nightmares and deepest of fears. I will also share information of my upcoming works, and segments of the book available only to the readers of this blog. Chapters that will unlock, secrets, and open doors into darkness that you might never have imagined. In my upcoming novel "Jeffery Smiles" we follow the life of a young boy obsessed with the idea that he is more evolved then everyone else around him. Believing he has the ability to communicate with the dead, see far into the future, and manipulate people with his mind. I will randomly place blog entries that will bare the title "Jeffery's diary". Within these entries you will see deeper into the twisted mind of a young man that believes in his abilities so much, that he's willing to kill for it. Journey with me as we unlock the dark and twisted secrets of "Jeffery Smiles" together.