SueJEaton

‘There’s too much flesh,’ I mutter as I survey my handy work.
‘You should have thought of that,’ my husband tells me in that “I told you so” manner he has that I have grown to loathe. ‘If you’d have thought things through properly you would have taken that into account.’
‘Yet who would have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him?’ I moan.
‘Show off. You always thought you were so much better than me.’
‘Never,’ I correct him as I study the body before me.
‘At least I know you’re quoting Lady Macbeth. Which, if you ask me, I find very apt.’
‘You can shut up. Shut up!’ I stamp my foot, but the warm sticky blood reduces the effect I had hoped for. ‘If you’d shut up in the first place I wouldn’t be in this mess,’ I tell him.
‘You’re in a mess? What about me? At least your mess will come out in the wash which is more than can be said for me.’
‘O that this too too solid flesh would melt,’ I sigh.
‘Good God! Am I to become a Shakespearian tragedy?’ he snarls. ‘That would just suit you, wouldn’t it?’
‘As you won’t melt, I suppose I’ll have to cut you up. You won’t fit in the freezer in this state.’
‘If it was up to me, I wouldn’t choose to go in the freezer in any state,’ hubby whines.
I leave my husband lying on the floor of the blood splattered wet room and go in search of some sort of blade. The one I stabbed him with isn’t strong enough for sawing through bone and sinew. I find nothing suitable.
‘Where have you left the saw, you miserable old bastard?’ I weep.
‘As if I’d tell you,’ he sniggers. ‘You’ll only saw me up for dog food if I did.’
‘You never put anything away. You just leave your stuff around and then pinch mine from my hobby bag. The freezer’s too good for you.’ I am crying openly now.
‘You should have put your tools ready before you started the job,’ he quotes me at me in a put-on whiney voice. ‘Isn’t that what you are always telling me?’
That really makes me see red. The claw hammer is to hand so I smack it into his mouth to stop the prattle. Then I smack it into his eyes so he can’t see what I’m doing. I just hammer away at him because he has annoyed me so much. I hammer away until I feel all my frustrations leak over the floor and mingle with the blood drying on the tiles. I hammer away until I am exhausted and empty. I drop the hammer and head towards the kitchen where I flick the switch on the kettle. If I do something different – take my mind from the task – I might remember where the saw is hiding.
A nice cup of tea will help.

Day 1
This is Day 1 of my diary, and not, as someone will surely, remind to me, Day 1 of the drama that is going on around the world.
I don’t get out much. You may big ah if you like – okay then.

My joints have long outlived my brain function and decided eons ago that they’ve had enough of my overly active lifestyle. Over the years my knees and shoulders took the brunt of falls from horses, out of trees, exuberant children and energetic folk dancing on a Saturday night. They now complain painfully when I try to walk more than a few feet, so it’s taken a little while for me to realise the effect of this social isolation the younger folk find themselves in. Mostly, it’s been just like a normal week for me apart from more than usual phone calls. Thank you, everyone I do appreciate our chats.
That said, I normally attend my local church on a Sunday morning, so today is the day the effects of social isolation kicked in. Instead of going out I watched a virtual service with two dogs at my feet and a cat snoring in front of the screen. And, if it’s not too much information, I was not struck down by a bolt of lightning for being in my nightie, so I shall do that again.
I have a plan. It’s no different from last year. I shall be growing my own veg in my adapted garden in order to have enough to eat when the apocalypse does arrive. I intend to intersperse the gardening with writing in order to give my joints a rest when they complain, hopefully, ensuring a productive day and a relaxed attitude to what the virus intends for my age group.

Live long and prosper, folks

Christmas is a religious festival I know; the clue is in the name. However, whatever we believe in, how many of us enjoy a good ghost story when the nights turn cold and dark?

It’s the best excuse ever for curling up near a warm body – or fire if you’re not so lucky to have a spare body to hand, lights low and a favourite drink to hand.

If you fancy a change from the old much-loved but well read tales it’s time to try something new. Something for the twenty-first century, perhaps.

Okay, so I tend to favour the seventeenth century and will be heading there, no doubt in December but I have been lucky enough to have been allowed to read some of the newest and most exciting ghost stories submitted to Corona Books this year. The result being The Corona Book of Ghost Stories.

If you like ghost stories, or know a man/woman/person who does, why not treat them to a copy for Christmas? Books are so easy to wrap! What are you waiting for?

https://getbookat/CoronaGhostStories

If you want to know more why not come and meet me at the UK Ghost Stories Festival in Derby. The festival is on Nov 29th/30th/Dec 1st.

I shall be on the panel helping you to develop your ghost story on Nov 30th and Corona Books will be discussing editing on Dec 1st.

Check out Deryn’s story. http://www.coronabooks.com http://www.amazon.co.uk

See what happens should you find a strange box on your window sill.

The Toy Shop by Sue Eaton

The TASC Band by Sue Eaton

Have you ever wondered about the origins of Halloween?

Samhain is a ancient festival marking the end of the harvest season and the beginning of winter. Traditionally, it is celebrated from 31 October to 1 November, which is roughly halfway between the autumn equinox and the winter solstice.
Samhain is believed to have Celtic pagan origins and there is evidence it has been an important date since ancient times.  It was the time when cattle were brought back down from the summer pastures and when livestock were slaughtered for the winter. Special bonfires were lit with protective and cleansing powers providing the rituals involving them were followed.

Samhain was seen as a liminal time, when the boundary between this world and the Otherworld could more easily be crossed.  The souls of the dead were also thought to revisit their homes. Feasts were had, at which the souls of dead kin were invited to attend and a place set at the table for them. Ghosts and ghostly tales abound at this time of the year.

Mumming and guising were part of the festival, and involved people going door-to-door in costume (or in disguise), often reciting rhymes in exchange for treats. Rituals and games were also a big part of the festival and often involved nuts and apples, plentiful at this time of the year.

The Christian Church put a new spin on the idea as a means to remember the dead, both those who achieved sainthood (November 1st) and mere mortals (November 2nd). The evening before the religious festival, October 31st was known as All Hallow’s Even. This gradually became shortened to Halloween.

Do you recognise any of this?

If you fancy a good fright this Halloween why not try one or all of the books below. You won’t be disappointed.

See what happens should you find a strange box on your window sill.

The Toy Shop by Sue Eaton

➡️http://getbook.at/CoronaHorror3
➡️http://getbook.at/CoronaGhostStories
http://www.coronabooks.com

Autumn has arrived with a vengeance. The temperature drops in the late afternoon and the nights are long and dark. It’s time to get the season’s reading organised.

Two fabulously creepy books to chill the blood as you curl up by the fire, lights low and a potion of what you fancy at your elbow.

These books were created from selecting the best of over 800 well crafted stories and published for your enjoyment.

What are you waiting for? Publication date for both is October 1st. Only 4 more sleeps!

https://getbookat/CoronaHorror3

https://getbookat/CoronaGhostStories

When you’ve enjoyed these, and if you haven’t already, try other titles from Corona Books.

See what happens should you find a strange box on your window sill.

The Toy Shop by Sue Eaton

The TASC Band by Sue Eaton

Check out Deryn’s story. http://www.coronabooks.com http://www.amazon.co.uk

I’ve been a bit on the busy side recently. Corona Books put out a call for horror stories back in the spring and I offered to help read some of the submissions.

I told a friend about this and she asked if reading so many stories in a given time frame took the shine off reading.

824 stories comprising of 3,000,000 words later I have an answer for her. No, it doesn’t. I still love reading. The reason being, the stories were brilliant and I really enjoyed being part of the procedure. It was just a shame there wasn’t room for them all.

After all the reading, re-reading, discussion, re-reading and yet more discussion it was decided that instead of the one horror story anthology there was enough material for a book of ghost stories as well.

So, for your delight on a dark winter’s evening, put out the lights, light a candle and curl up with these –

 When you have enjoyed these try others from Corona Books.

See what happens should you find a strange box on your window sill.

The Toy Shop by Sue Eaton

The TASC Band by Sue Eaton

Check out Deryn’s story. http://www.coronabooks.com http://www.amazon.co.uk

http://www.coronabooks.com

Have you ever wondered where narrow, dark alleyways in your hometown might lead? James Brogden follows them in his novel ‘The Narrows’. The blurb on the back cover tells us that Andy Sumner lives a perfectly conventional life until a chance encounter with a wounded and pursued Bex, one of a society of misfits who live in the Narrows, leads him into another world. In this world the laws of time and space are malleable.
The Narrows are closing and it’s up to Andy and Bex to find out why. I’m saying no more for fear of spoiling the book. If you want to know what happens then read it. Its twists and turns are fast paced and will grip you to the end. For a first novel this is well crafted with believable characters. A sort of grounded fantasy, if you will.

2: Clean the dog hairs out of the car.

My daughter has two dogs both of which moult like there’s a serious attack of global warming. She has also borrowed my car quite a bit lately and so the back seat was covered in what I was about to say was loose hair.
It was so not loose. It might have been loose from a dog, but it was stuck to the seat, and the blanket that’s supposed to catch it. The dogs tend to runckle that up and get underneath it. It sticks to the carpet and anyone who cares to give them attention.

It gets up the nose and into your mouth if you dare to open it to speak to anyone. If you attempt to sweep it, it just flies about looking for a new place to settle, preferably ever so slightly out of reach of the vacuum nozzle.

Perhaps you think it a tad silly of me to try and clear the dog hairs out of the car while I was looking after my son’s dog. She was a very old, sturdy little staffie who expected to be picked up and put in the car. I thought I was safe.

It’s amazing what a dog can do if a dog is determined and you’re ignoring her!

Unfortunately, she died a few days after this picture was taken.

She went to sleep in her own bed and just didn’t wake up. She was a little sweetheart and very loving.

R.I.P. Lola

1. Paint the bathroom ceiling

One of my New Year’s Resolutions was to decorate as much of my home as possible this year. The provisos to this being;
1. I do not strain a muscle.
2. I do not miss out on anything I fancy doing that’s more fun than decorating.
3. If the weather is good, I’ll be out in the garden.

The weather was not good, and it was May. Long enough from New Year to consider making a start if I was going to brag that I’d kept my resolution as regards decorating.
I had previously covered the new plaster in a coat of watered-down bathroom paint. I had been careful to get the right consistency which my builder told me was called ‘gnat’s piddle’. It seemed to have worked. I was now ready to put on the first proper coat.

I had all the right things, cup of tea, stick for stirring the paint – you can’t beat a good stick. You can stir anything with the right kind of stick. I even had a pencil to put behind my ear behind my ear. Why, I don’t know but it made me feel good. I had other things as well, like paint, rollers and stuff.

I also had a dog. Not my dog, who would most likely have been used to me, but my son’s. He was on holiday with his family and the dog was being spoilt at my house.
Lola expected to be spoilt. She had been spoilt at Christmas when I did nothing but eat and drink the wrong things and pet the dog while watching films. She didn’t expect to be fobbed off with a dog chew and the use of the sofa while I painted. Apparently, humans with dogs shouldn’t paint, they should play with their pets even though the pet was asleep until I woke her by quietly opening the paint tin. They pop so loudly these days.

Walking backwards across the bathroom while gazing at the ceiling as you paint is not the best thing you can do if you, a) don’t want to fall over said dog, b) spill paint everywhere, including on the dog who then runs off daubing other parts of the house with her paint covered coat, c) miss bits of the ceiling in order not to do a) or b).

I’d try again but I have my daughter’s dog at the moment and I’ve already fallen trying to avoid her as I came down the step into the living room.
I think I’ll have a nice cup of tea instead.

Before you all reach for your phones and report me it was not a sweet little fur-ball with whiskers, sharp claws and a meow.

My neighbour’s cat comes to visit when the mood takes or she want’s something. No, I’ll get this right – when she wants something.

She prevents me from working until she feels the call of the wild when she wanders off to do her own thing.

She’s a sweetie and I would not microwave her even though I want access to my own computer. In fact, there are times when she’s helped by editing my writing and passed comment. My daughter says she must love it because she’s left so many kisses.

The cat I microwaved is stuffed with wheat and I use it to sit on my shoulder when working to help soothe the pain from arthritis. Today, I burnt it – badly. So badly that I had to dunk it in a bowl of cold water to put out the fire and then throw it away.

How did this happen??? I’ve microwaved it countless times over the years and it’s helped me to do without meds and control my pain. On top of that she was a present so now I’ll have to explain to my mum. Either that or try and find another the same.