Writing With Ghosts

Hello,

I always write this when I am out for coffee but for once I am in Starbucks rather than Costas!  That's because I am in Watford Shopping Centre and Costas is full.  No room at the Inn. Lol.  I still prefer the coffee in Costas though.  Nobody makes a Gingerbread Latte like they do. :)

Anyway, I apologise for not having posted last night.  Things are a bit hectic at the moment.  I am trying to set up my new business publishing my own novels again and some online magazines.  It's all go and I am loving it.  Why am I finally doing this and believing that I can succeed at it all?  Well, you know what I am going to say.  I am receiving guidance that this is the right way to go from my MIBs.  Nathan is like a parrot in my ear!  Write this, do this and so on.  Normally his incessant bossy chatter drives me mad but this time I welcome it.  I have been stuck for a long time both with my personal life and writing itself.  I love to be busy so I am not going to complain.  I just hope it is all a success.  At the minute I am unsure where he is leading me.  If any of you Medium's out there reading this have any ideas, please let me know.  I would be interested to know what you think.

I am back writing my erotica novels again and being pushed to write more like 75 Shades of Grey than 50!  I have been quite nervous about writing stuff like this but he has been there daring me to go forward with it.  He has even been helping me out with the stories.  The images become vivid in my mind whether it is erotica or any other genre and he is often the inspiration for a lot of my heroes.  He loves this!  Although I have known him to act as one of the baddies in my thriller novel.

Rather than seeing words when I write I see images.  The scenes are played like a mini movie in my head and both he and the MIBs are acting it out.  It's wild and better than going to the movies.  In my mind I quite often stand at the side in the image as though I am really there.  Writing a story set in the middle of winter, I saw snow clinging to fir trees in the woods, heard it crunch underfoot as I walked through it, felt its cold wetness melting in my hand and the still, freezing air pressing around me.  I have never experienced anything like it.  It was wonderful.

There have been funny times as well.  Whilst in the middle of a scene in one of erotica bestsellers, I was arranging, ah hem, a naughty scene we shall call it, with the lady being tied up on a bed.  I knew something was missing in the picture and I suddenly heard a voice say, "So what do you want me to  do with these shoes?  Do you want them on or off her?" Lol.  The scene shifted and I could see Nathan standing in front of the bed in my mind, holding up a pair of shoes at me and gesturing with them.  I wanted them on of course.  They were essential to the scene. :)

However, one of the best experiences my MIBs arranged to inspire my writing whilst in the middle of working on a novel, was in one of the first books I ever wrote called Knight of Swords.  Yes it was based on the tarot card.  I may have mentioned it in an earlier post.  This was the novel Nathan first made himself to me even though he had been standing next to me guiding me since birth.  I wrote about a young Hybrid Vampire Queen in Victorian England who owned an army was protected by her mate, the Knight of Swords.  I would learn later the imagined army were my MIBs, all dressed in black of course and Nathan was the Knight of Swords.  But I will tell you more about this on another post.

I was on my favourite beach, Saunton Sands in North Devon when on holiday with my ex and his family.  We were walking the dog early morning and as usual we had rowed.  I was upset but something massive was about to cheer me up.  It was a dark breezy morning and there was some mist with a strange blue tinge to its colour. rising above the sand an water.  The sea was calm and it was relaxing to listen to the waves sweeping in and off the shore like breath.  I turned to look down the beach and in my head I heard a roar like thunder.  I was just beginning to see Spirit at the time and it was all new and not as developed as it is now but I had the strangest feeling horses were galloping towards me.  In my mind and faintly in my physical vision, I saw the Queen of Sword's army riding towards me, their horses pounding their hooves against the sand.  It was so strong I felt the whoosh of air as they passed me by and my adrenaline pound.  I will never forget it.  I am going to post chapters from the book on this blog.  See below for details.

So I suppose you could say we write Arabella Kingsley novels as a team!


On top of writing erotica I am also being encouraged to be Spiritually minded which I have to say is one hell of a contrast.  They want me to post about my Spiritual life and experiences with them on here.  Taking the videos is another of their ideas and it has been fun.  They want you to see lots of them.  The moment it becomes dark I have been asked to take videos and direct a mini movie with them.  I have even told them what will work best and when I need more from them just like a Film Director. Lol.  Bless them, they try their best to come through and be seen by you all.  I think they want to be in the movies. Lol.  I just wish I knew why Nathan & my MIBs want this all to happen.  I appear to be doing a lot of writing and blogging as though I am trying to attract someone's attention and give them a message.  Maybe it is for you!. :)

Whatever the reason for the first time in a long time my writing is fun again and I have two paths to follow.  Enjoy the first chapter of my paranormal romance Knight of Swords below.

Remember if you want to see the videos I have taken of my MIB Spirit Guides & Spirit Orbs, please go to my Youtube Channel Woman In Black.

For details of my Erotic Romance novels please go to Arabella Kingsley Erotic Novels..

Please visit www.arabellasworld.co.uk for my erotic online magazine for more FREE stories.

Read excerpts of my Erotic Novels on my Arabella Kingsley Thoughtcatalog Page.

To read Forget Me Nots, my Ghost/Paranormal Romance novel dealing with the impact of past lives in the American West, Victorian England & the mystery of eternal love, please go to my sister blog, Writing With Angels.

Arabella Kingsley Facebook Page for all of my novels.

Enjoy the first part of my paranormal romance, Knight of Swords.  I will be starting a new novel inspired by my experiences on here in the near future when KOS is finished.  Watch this space!


Sara (Pen name Arabella Kingsley)

Warning:  Contains elements of horror.

Knight of Swords  

Chapter One

London 1893

Once again I had been guest witness to a gruesome murder.  The monster had come to collect me from my dreams just as he always did.  He changed their pleasant landscape and replaced them with visions of death that would forever haunt my soul.

Somehow this creature had the terrifying ability to walk through my mind and lead my very consciousness into his own dark-filled world.  I would see his cruel murders first hand.  His emotions and mine became one and the same, linked by some fateful bond.  Only fear and revulsion remained my own.  Our senses were entwined.  I felt the touch, smell, taste and sound of all that he did.  How, I did not know.  I did not care to know.  I just wanted it to stop.

This night we approached a small, secluded alley in a forgotten, dirty, damp corner of Whitechapel, not far from where one of the notorious Ripper murders had taken place a few years earlier.  To my horror, this was somewhere I recognised.  The memory flashed strong and vivid in my mind.  I had taken Matilda, daughter of the landlord from the nearby drinking establishment, The Candlewick, up against the wall not a few weeks before. 

I remembered her innate giggling as I man-handled her fleshy, plump breasts and moved her up and down against the wall as she straddled me, pushing inside her so hard and fast my head spun.  I recognised every place the monster took me.  They were always the scene of one of my carnal sins.  It was all part of the punishment he had so meticulously devised for me.  Other than to walk dutifully behind him, my body would not move.  My will was not my own.  He wore the garments of a clergyman but I never saw his face.  It was always obscured by the shadows that seemed to surround him wherever we travelled.  He walked with a limp.  His unsteady gait made his laboured footsteps heavy upon the cobbled streets.  The clumping sound chillingly announced his arrival into my dreams when he came to collect my soul.

His heavy tread mingled with the noise of the woman’s body being drag.  My sight fixed more closely on the woman he had just murdered with his vicious vampire bite in her throat.  It was . . ., you must excuse my emotion, it was Sophie – another young woman who had been misfortunate to attract my lust.  This callous, unforgiving creature took the women I had made love to.  Oh God, Sophie, I am so sorry you ever met me.

Sophie would be his fifth killing in the last month.  Five innocent souls tormented by his cruelty before their murders.  I tried to beg for her life, to connect with any shred of humanity left in this vampire monster, but my efforts always fell upon deaf ears.  I offered my own life in return.  When that did not move him, I vowed I would find a way to stop him.  Somehow I would kill him.  Even if I swung for it, I would kill him.  I thundered this intention at him with anger, but he merely laughed at the suggestion, continuing diligently with his task.

The vampire was pleased with the choice he had made in selecting Sophie as his next victim, for it was not only me he punished with his vile acts.  Sophie bore a very close resemblance to his lost sweetheart, the woman who had rejected his tormented love.  This woman, this Juliet, whose name he whispered as he maimed and killed, drove his murders in equal strength to his passion to punish me.  Somehow the man had linked our perceived crimes, deeming them both worthy of the same punishment.  I could not help but feel as though he believed I had wooed Juliet and taken her from him as I had done with other women from other men.  Yet, I had never met her.  I confess I was confused and bewildered by his anger toward me.  Jealousy seemed as good a reason for his hostility as any other.

Though I did not know of Juliet or of her life, I was drawn to her through this creature.  Every killing was the monster’s rehearsal of Juliet’s eventual demise and I feared for her life on a continual basis.  I felt incredibly protective of her, relieved that, despite all of his efforts, he had not been able to detect her whereabouts.  The man continued to press his face into the fateful wound in Sophie’s throat to catch the rich essence that poured from her broken body.  I closed my eyes tight, unable to take the gruesome spectacle anymore.  I struggled to support myself on my shaking legs as Sophie’s blood seeped into the cobbles around my feet.  I wished I could block out the frantic sucking noises the man made, wished I could remove the taste of blood from my mouth that made me convulse.

A soft feminine cry startled both the monster and myself.  The dreadful sucking noise abruptly ceased.  I opened my eyes with a quick sharpness to find the source of the distressed utterance.  I heard him whisper her name with reverence, ‘Juliet . . . my love, Juliet, you have come at last.’

Chapter Two

My heart was filled with a new terror.  The man and I were no longer alone.  The beautiful Juliet stood beside me.  Though she was not physically present, I could sense through the creature that she too shared the vision of his work.  I could smell her intoxicating scent of cedar wood and mandarin swirl around my consciousness like a breath of fresh air.  It wiped away the putrid smell of death and violence from the frozen atmosphere.

The clergyman’s twisted love for this woman threatened to overwhelm him.  At last he had found her.  After vainly trying for months to psychically link with her mind, he had at last become successful.  I was more than fearful for her.

I felt an affinity with this woman I had never felt with another.  I did not know the reason for it, only the sudden conviction that our destinies were crossed.  If I was to allow any harm to befall this beauty, my own life would be in peril.  My instinct was fierce.  It rose through my ethereal being to scream loudly in my mind as though her presence had provoked it.  I would, without fear, protect her with my life.  Willingly forsaking both my life and all others for the protection of hers alone.  She had, in an instant, unveiled all meaning to my life and its mission.  It was madness.  I did not have any acquaintance with this woman, but I knew, I understood, what I had to do.  I could not ignore this instinct.  It filled me with new found strength and courage.

I could not deny the intensity of the anger I felt when the man reached out to touch Juliet.  To my relief she backed away from him, unencumbered.  Unlike my own, the vision did not restrain her movement.  Her emerald eyes flicked from poor Sophie’s naked, dead body hanging from the rope bound around her wrists, back to the dark, blood-soaked figure of the vampire.  Her face was contorted with shock and grief.  Tears flowed abundantly from her eyes.

‘Juliet . . . I have waited for so long.  Come to me child.’ the man offered.

Her resemblance to Sophie was striking, yet there was an aristocratic bearing to her features that Sophie had not possessed.  Her voice was young; I fancied she was barely eighteen years old.

‘Who are you?  What have you done?  It is blasphemy for you to wear the vestments of the Church.  How can I see you?  I must be dreaming?’  Her voice faded as she considered the idea.

The killer’s eyes looked at her quizzically.  He told her softly, ‘You really don’t know, do you?  You are as innocent as him.’  He turned and pointed at me.

Juliet followed the direction he pointed his finger and rested her eyes upon me.  She appeared startled and confused at my presence.  Her pretty features tightened with further anxiety.  Then she frowned, put her hands to her head, and shook it.

‘No, this isn’t real.  This is a dream, a nightmare.  I will wake in a moment.  Juliet, wake up,’ she told herself loudly.

The murderer laughed, making Juliet jump and stare at him.  He spoke eloquently, ‘I can assure you Juliet, my love . . .’ he gestured at the scene before us.  ‘This is all very real.  You can see this vision because I am in your mind, just as I am in that of Lord Valancourt’s here.  You don’t know who you are or of the great powers of our race.  It is almost amusing.’

‘Our race?’ Juliet whispered to herself, her eyes clouded with confusion.  She shook her head again and glared at him defiantly.  I could not but help admire her courage.  ‘I am human, and I have a heart.  You, sir, are nothing but a monster . . .’

He cut off her speech with the wave of his hand and the snap of his voice.  ‘You try my patience Juliet.  I have much planned for our reunion.’

He started to walk towards her, his vile fingers outstretched to take her hand.  My heart began to pound with fear for her.  I shouted out a fierce warning to him, ‘Do not touch her or so help me I will kill you.’

The man turned to me.  His eyes narrowed.  ‘You will do nothing to me,’ he hissed.

I could barely contain my anger within my tone, despite the danger involved in provoking the monster.  I could not bear it if he touched her.  ‘I told you, I will find a way to kill you.  That I promise you.’ 

‘You will try and fail.’

He reached out for Juliet once more.  She stared fearfully at his long, blackened fingernails.  I called out to her.  ‘Juliet, run.  Do not let him into your thoughts now he has found you.  Do not sleep Juliet.  You must not sleep and dream.  Guard your thoughts.  I will find you and protect you.  You have my word.  Run, please, run and do not stop, you will wake from this vision.’

She stared wildly at me.  Briefly, hesitation got the better of her senses, then she turned and ran as the man sprang forward to catch her.  The killer growled as though he was in tormented pain, but he did not follow her.  I suddenly felt his hand around my throat.

‘You are becoming tiresome, Lord Valancourt.  She may run, but she can never escape.’

For a second I could not breathe as his grip tightened.  I desperately willed myself awake.  For the first time, I was successful in completing the action without the monster’s permission.

I sat up in bed with a jolt.