Novel Writing

Ursula Regazzoli

Our lady of sorrows by Ursula Regazzoli 2018

The car jolted along the winding forest road that must have been last paved twenty years ago. Evangeline was grateful for the shade of the huge oak and pine trees along this road that blocked out the blistering sun. With every rock they drove over and every jerk of the car, her sweaty skin brushed against the leather seats and she whimpered in pain. Her mother, who was refusing to acknowledge her existence never mind her hurt, turned up the radio in response.

“It’s a hot, hot, hot day here in Milwaukee, and I’m not just talking about the chicks!” the radio DJ practically shouted with enthusiasm Evangeline didn’t even know was possible this early on a Sunday morning.

Tara Fitzgerald

By Tara Fitzgerald 2018

I walked quietly down the cobblestone path. The sun shone high in the sky. Daisies, daffodils and tulips swayed from side to side in the gentle breeze. A decaying smell filled the air. The overgrown grass tickled my legs as the path ran out and left me in a field. I ran over to our usual spot underneath the apple tree. The earth around it was loose, dry and slightly raised. Apples were scattered around the tree. I waited for half an hour but when he still didn’t show, I began to panic. He was never late. I reached for my phone, there was no answer; the call went straight to voicemail.

Steven O’Leary

Extract of “Life of me” By Steven O’Leary 2018

This is the story of my life and like any other it is one of ups and downs. It was 1939 February. I lived near the east coast of America. (Arguably not the best place to live at the time)My father worked in town in the car factory (he was the manager) and my mother looked after me, my sister Sarah and Porkchops our playful, soft, lovable, beady eyed, soul calming golden retriever.

In summer time we would go fishing and visit grandma on the farm and Porkchops always gets excited when he finds out about it. 

Stephen Moran

By Stephen Moran 2018

Sam, who was sitting at the front of the bus, caught me in his sight. “Howiya gobshite,” he said in a very joyful tone. Our friendship was pretty much just the two of us constantly taking the piss out of each other.

“What’s the story,” I replied.

“Ah not much, yourself?” he responded.

Sophia Fitzsimons

Mornings suck by Sophia Fitzsimons 2018

That one moment, when your eyes flicker open and light pours into your retinas and all you see are these overpowering, fuzzy colours, with all the solid lines and realness of the earth blurred like a camera coming into focus. These colours begin sending messages to your brain, waking it up and letting it yawn before it begins the first tortures of the day ahead. However, your eyes opened before your brain could even begin turning its cogs and whirling its gears and telling you to remember. To remember it all. So, you just lie there for that second; motionless and weightless, with a heart feeling pure and light. 

Sean Maye

By Sean Maye 2018

“It was love at first sight,” said George, grinning at his son while patting the old Mercedes roof. His son rolled his eyes. The fourteen-year-old had no interest in cars, but his father loved them and he had to listen to him if he wanted to get back to his game. His father continued, “When I saw her, I just knew this beauty would be part of somethin’ special.”

“Wish you had thought the same about your marriage.”

“Alright son, wanna take her for a spin?”

Sarah Troy

By Sarah Troy 2018

The bedroom door is closed. My palms become cold and clammy. My chest has a weight pulling it down. I reach for the handle and slowly turn it, but I can’t bring myself to push the door open. My neck begins to hurt from staring at it as three minutes go by. I take a deep breath and close my eyes. I open the door.

I just stand there. I know what’s in front of me. I see her then, hanging there from that four poster bed that she so desperately wanted before. 

Rihanna Carey

By Rihanna Carey  2018

She was unconscious when they took her. It was dark then. It was dark when she woke. She was in the back of the ambulance - but she didn’t know that.

She woke surrounded by white. A shrill, inhuman shriek repeated in her ear. She wished someone would stop it. She had tried to open her eyes, but the light was too blinding. It was a brilliant white, but unnatural. She tried to open them again now. Someone had shone a light into her eyes. It was too bright to be candlelight. So what was it? There was no sound. Besides the shrill shrieking, there was only silence.

Ray McHallem

By Ray McHallem 2018

It all happened on the day the gods came. Everyone in Thornhill had a story of where they were and what they were doing when it happened. Stephen’s just happened to be a bit more interesting.

Stephen’s father owned Thornhill House, a huge manor, sitting on the edge of town. It was surrounded on every side by many acres of land, most of them forest.

In an act of teenage defiance, Stephen had run from his house and into the woods, where he got promptly lost. 

Rachel Ojolowo

The Visitor by Rachel Ojolowo 2018

It licked its scaly lips longingly, its clawed feet perched on the dome of a rooftop. It eyed the large bell that he sat directly opposite. It smirked. It was funny how a demonic being, such as itself, was on a church, a symbol of all that was good. It was quite a contrast. The being scanned the town, its blood-red, snake-like eyes darting from one street to another. A clock bell tower in the distance rang, its sound shrill. It grinned. It was almost time. Dinner time.

So there it continued to watch and wait for its next prey. It waited.

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