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.