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'Kunai' Teaser

  For anyone interested in what I've been working on, I present the prologue for my - hopefully - debut novel. Enjoy! Kunai Prologue Asha’s 11 th Birthday Asha stands over the body of her father. The blood on her hands quickly becoming sticky as she waits for him to strike her with heavy hands, just as he always would. A large kitchen knife stands erect from his chest with only the wooden handle visible, blood already seeping into the steel pins. She reaches out for the knife and pauses, holding her hand suspended above her father. Examining the sticky, drying blood, she turns her hand over and then over again. Slowly she turns off the gas lantern on the bedside table and drops her hand back at her side, her eyes falling once again on the knife. Pain pulses from between Asha’s legs and it takes everything she has left to remain still. She’d always been told about the monthly bleeds women get, the cramps that could come along with them. This was different from what she’d ...
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Wesley & Simon

“Hey Wes, Wes wake up.” “Let me sleep,” I groan, rolling over and shoving my face in my pillow. “Wes come on,” Simon begs, shaking me gently. “I got you coffee.” I don’t want coffee, I want sleep.  “Mhmm,” I groan back at him.  “Wes,” Simon scolds, still shaking me. “Come on we said we’d go out today.”  Did we? That doesn’t sound like me, its way too early for that. I realize that he’s never going to let me succumb to sleep again and roll over, rubbing my eyes and proceeding to glare at Simon. His messy sandy hair looking like he just got out of bed, even though clearly he’s already been out.  “Ah sleeping beauty lives,” he laughs.  “Where’s my coffee?” I groan at him. He looks toward the bedside table and I follow suit, then look back at him expecting him to grab it for me.  “You’re funny,” he says. “Gotta at least grab it yourself cranky.” I roll my eyes and reach my hands out in front of me. “Help?” I plead. Now Simon rolls his eyes, the steel bl...
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untitled

 “Bye grandma!” I call into the kitchen as I scramble to put my shoes on. “I’ll see you at the library later!”  “Katy, don’t you leave just yet.” She calls from the Den. "Where are you going anyway?”  “Jessica’s here,” I reply, making my way into the den where I find grandma with her easel set up in front of the big bay window. She’s been painting a lot lately, and she’s actually getting really good. Her current painting just looks like an amalgamation of greens, but I know she’s got a vision for it. She always tells me to “trust the process.”   “We're going to get breakfast with Sammy.” I tell her.   “When are you going to be at the library?” she asks me while dabbing her brush on the canvas.  “I’ll be there at three,” I reply. “We’re going to hang out for a while.’  “Two-thirty, I need help with these assignments.”  “Fine," I reply. “But you’d better have some good books for me today.”  “I might have a couple,” She replies, I can ...
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