Archive for the I Died Once Category

Writing

Posted in Allure, Chess With Agatha, Fantasy Novel, I Died Once, Kickstarter, Mady's Storm, Poetry, Writing with tags on March 2, 2015 by darkjade68

writing-a-bookWriting

I’m at an interesting point with writing right now

A bit of my writing history, for those of you that haven’t followed my blog since 2011 when I created it

0572ba5fd1f62d6a9fe5bfde69a5fdb1

(1973-76)

First of all, my first dream was to be a Professional Baseball Player

A Pitcher to be more specific

I’ve mentioned this along the way

Gave that up because I lived with a single mom, in the middle of a remote canyon

And it just would have been tough to pull off

Lucas(1977)

Then in 1977 I saw the Original Star Wars at the age of 8

And I wanted to be a Filmmaker from then on

A Director to be specific

Now at some point between the age of 11 and 13

(1979-1981)

I actually started to write a book called

One Knight

(Which I actually started again from scratch in 2011/2012)

And when I showed it to my dad (Who I didn’t live with, but was visiting) he told me I was a Writer

screenplayNow in say, 1995-96, being the person I was with told me they would leave me if I pursued Film Making

I suggested that I instead pursue Screenplay Writing

They would not agree to this either

Fortunately this relationship ended in 1998

And in 1999, I finally attempted to pursue Film Making

“The Realm” (2000)

Now this mainly began with some experimental stuff, like the footage above

Which was basically my brother and I and Action Figures

No Editing

Just rolling the camera with an Effect on that changed the way everything looked

And also helped to hide our hands, Lol

And the music is the Soundtrack from “Conan”

Being played out of a Music Box sitting near by

The reason the music sounds so good is that the Video Camera

Which I believe was a Sony…..

Had a very good Microphone built into it

“If Not Now…” (2002)

And then two years later, My First Short Film, “If Not Now…”

Now with this, there was Editing

But, I filmed it in an hour and a half due to my brothers’ time constraints

So some of it was kind of rough, because there weren’t enough takes to choose from

None the less, I got it into Film and Video Festival in New York

Which changed my life

Even so, after my Dad watched it with me (I invited him to go to New York with me)

He still continued to refer to me as a Writer

At the time, that kind of bothered me

Because I was a Filmmaker

But reflecting, I think there are two reasons for this

I do believe my Dad is actually an unrealized Writer

And thus that is his focus

And, I am in fact a Writer

screenwriting(2003-2005)

In 2002, I also wrote my First Draft of my Screenplay “White Jade”

And a Play called “Stranger In The Dark”

And in 2003, I stepped away from Film Making

And began writing Screenplays

White Jade Cover Book 1(2006)

And in 2006, hired an Artist to convert the first few pages of “White Jade” into a Comic Book

written word(2011-Present)

But it wasn’t until 2011 that I finally decided to give Writing 100% of my focus

With the Creation of “The Written Word” Blog

Where you are now

And for a year and a half, I Wrote like crazy

Blog Series

Dark Rider – Season 1 (2011); The Dark Rider had set out that day to End His Own Life… But he did Not Succeed. Now with only the Company of a Mysterious White Owl, and an Elven Mercenary by the name of Largoth, he seeks out some Deeper Truth… In this First Season of Dark Rider.

Part One – Dark Rider

Part Two – Dark Rider – Return To Bas’adia

Part Three – Dark Rider – Dragon’s Claw Tavern

Part Four – Dark Rider – Corwick’s Wish

Part Five – Dark Rider – Ambush At Fallen Wood

Part Six – Dark Rider – Shores of Evalon

Part Seven – Dark Rider – Scarlet Bandit

Part Eight – Dark Rider – Enter the Drow (Dark Elves)

Part Nine – Dark Rider – Nownyhall

Part X – Dark Rider – Breached Alliance

Part XI – Dark Rider – Hunted

Part XII – Dark Rider – Certain Death

Part XIII – Dark Rider – Rumble at the Village of Mond

Part XIV – Dark Rider – Moving On… Rodomor

Part XV – Dark Rider – Heroes Calling

Part XVI – Dark Rider – Winter Come

Part XVII – Dark Rider – The Northern Realms

Part XVIII - Dark Rider – Fool of Thy Self

Part XIX – Dark Rider – Feeling The Heat

Part XX - Dark Rider – They Struck at Dawn

Part XXI – Dark Rider – Man Down

Dark Rider – Season 2 (2012); The Dark Rider has received a Near Fatal Blow at the Hand of Prouhl, The Dark Warrior of Heen… Will he survive… And if he does, will it be in time to Save His Friends!

Part One – Champion of Wogtay

Part Two - Seasons Change

Tales of The Dark Rider; It’s been two years since the defeat of Lord Embul, at the walls of the Kingdom of Wogtay…

The Dark Rider and his comrades have parted, and each gone their own way… But an enemy of The Dark Rider, has not forgotten him…

PHOTO CREDIT – Dark Assassin

Part One – The Captive

Part Two – Blood Shall Fall

Part Three – Kin

Part Four - It Ends Here

Part Five – Back Into The Dark

Part Six – Vengeance Rising

Part 7 – Dark Intent

Part 8 – Wounded Heart

Part 9 – Retribution

Part X - Head In A Box

Whisper Moon

26 Years of Mental Preparation… But For What… I think I’m About to Find Out

Episode I – In The Dark

Episode II – Flashback

Episode III – Sleep Now

Episode IV – The 27th Year

Episode V – A Man’s Castle? Is His Castle

Episode VI – Sanctuary

Episode VII – Back In Black

Episode VIII – Drug Lord

Episode IX – Decisions

Episode X – The Black Dragon

Episode XI - Snuffed Out

Episode XII – Quiet Times

Episode XIII - Calm Before The Storm

Episode XIV – Loyalty

Episode XV – One Step Back

Episode XVI – Changes

Episode XVII – Debt

Episode XVII – Oh No You Didn’t

The Mind Chronicles – Season 2;

The Mind has begun Taking Down the Mutant Population on his own, with the Humanitarians Close on his Heels… And the World Police Legions are doing their best to Change His Mind… Yeah Right, like that’s going to happen.

The Mind Chronicles – Season 2 – Volume One – Feed Thy Enemies

The Mind Chronicles – Season 2 – Volume Two – The 4th Breed

The Mind Chronicles – Season 2 – Volume Three – Exile (Part 1)

The Mind Chronicles – Season 2 – Volume Four – Exile (Part 2)

The Mind Chronicles – Season 2 – Volume Five – Mutant Siege

The Mind Chronicles – Season 2 – Volume Six – Population Decrease

The Mind Chronicles – Season 1;

The Year is 2075… There are but some 200,000 People left alive on Post Apocalyptic Earth, after the “Great Collision” of 2039…

And some 500,000 or more Mutants…

A Mysterious Man known only as “The Mind” has arrived in a Mechanical Machine, in a Flash of Light…

No one knows from where he’s come… But the real question is, From “When” He’s Come…

In Season One of The Mind Chronicles.

The Mind – Prologue

The Mind Chronicles – Volume One - The Mercenary

The Mind Chronicles – Volume Two – Nothing Stays The Same

The Mind Chronicles – Volume ThreeOld Blue Eyes

The Mind Chronicles – Volume Four -Run

The Mind Chronicles – Volume FiveThe Greater Need

The Mind Chronicles – Volume SixFarahi

The Mind Chronicles – Volume Seven – Visitors

The Mind Chronicles – Volume Eight – Chillen With The Mind

The Mind Chronicles – Volume Nine – Onset

The Mind Chronicles – Volume Ten – Target Practice

PICTURE CREDITFantasy Blue Eye Glow

POETRY

2013

ill Conceived – (Nov-Dec, 2013)

Lights – (Nov-Dec, 2013)

Hope – Volume Thirteen (May-Nov, 2013)

Nine – Volume Twelve (March-April, 2013)

Beyond Truth – Volume Eleven (January-February, 2013)

2012

Breathe Deep – Volume Ten (November-December, 2012)

Tranquil Light – Volume Nine (September-November, 2012)

Darkness – Volume Eight (July-September, 2012)

Bereavement – Volume Seven (June-July, 2012)

ShadowsVolume Six (May-June, 2012)

Taken Heart – Volume Five (March-May, 2012)

Tales of Old - Volume Four (March-Present, 2012)

Rain Shall Shine (Capture the Night) – Volume Three (Jan-March, 2012)

2011 

Winter, Lust, And Wonder – Volume One (Sep-Oct, 2011)

Dream Shift – Volume Two (Oct-Dec, 2011)

idoAnd My Novella, “I Died Once

(Self-Published 2012)

A Font with SerifsFantasy Novel “Chess With Agatha”

(Written 2011-2012 Currently Being Rewritten)

vj-g-31 2And Vampire Novella “Allure”

(Written In 2012, Currently Awaiting Editing)

Mady's Storm2And Current Kickstarter Novella “Mady’s Storm”

(Written At The End Of 2012, And Awaiting Editing)

==========================

Some of you may know some of what I showed, and some may not

But I am in a very interesting spot right now

Determining What’s Next For Me

I Want To Edit And Self Publish My Written Books

But What’s Next?

Do I Focus On Material That I’ve Already Written

Like Marketing My Screenplay “White Jade”

Or Do I Work On Whole New Projects?

I Know That I Am Happy With What I’ve Written So Far

And Though I Had To Step Away From Film Making

I Am Happy With My Short Film “If Not Now…”

This Year Feels Very Different For Me

And I Don’t Have A Definite Answer

But Hopefully All Of You Will Continue

To Join Me On My Journey

dArKjAdE-

PICTURE CREDIT – Wind Up

“I Died Once” Book Trailer August, 2012

“White Jade” (Part 1) Comic Book Video October, 2012

“White Jade” (Part 2) Comic Book Video October, 2012

“Chess With Agatha” Book Trailer November, 2012

“Captain Fire 197″ Blog Series Promo Video March, 2014

“I Died Once” Is Now On gumroad

Posted in I Died Once, Novella, Story on February 16, 2015 by darkjade68

gumroad“I Died Once” Is Now On gumroad

“I Died Once”

There Are 17 Days Left On My “Mady’s Storm” Kickstarter Project

Posted in I Died Once, Kickstarter, Mady's Storm, Novella on February 15, 2015 by darkjade68

Mady's Storm(Front & Back Cover)

There Are 17 Days Left On My “Mady’s Storm” Kickstarter Project

I hope that some of you will join me in getting this book/novella off paper, and into print

I really do think that you will like it… Especially if you liked the first

If any of you are interested, check out the video on my Kickstarter Project

As well as the Rewards associated with contributions

Thanks for all of your support

23% there, hopefully we can do it

DarkJade-

“I Died Once” – Chapters 9, 10 & The Conclusion

Posted in I Died Once, Kickstarter, Mady's Storm, Novella on February 12, 2015 by darkjade68

Novella One “I Died Once” Concludes… Novella Two “Mady’s Storm” Kickstarter Project

Prologue, Chapter 1 & 2

Chapters 3, 4 & 5

Chapters 6, 7 & 8

ido

CHAPTER NINE

The 13th Day

It was the thirteenth day after I had arrived in Africa. I remember it well, as I woke up screaming. “AHHHHHH! HE’S HERE! HE’S HERE! HE’S HERE!”

My father came crashing into my room and took me into his arms. I couldn’t control the tears. I didn’t even know a human body could cry that much. It was embarrassing, but I couldn’t seem to stop.

“It’s just a nightmare, Mady, I promise. No one is here,” he assured me. But I didn’t believe him, or rather, I couldn’t. “That’s it. No more sleeping out in this guest house. I’m moving you into one of the main house bedrooms,” he insisted.

“No, no. I’m okay,” I assured him. But I wasn’t. The truth was I had never been this shaken. It was like all the emotions of the last eight or so years of my life were all starting to flood to the surface.

“Come on,” he picked me up out of bed and carried me toward the house. It was pitch dark outside, but the sky was unbelievable. Ten million, zillion stars. By the time he got me in the house, the crying had switched to an occasional “Hhhhhehhh…. Hhhhehhh,” sniffling, shortness of breath thing. How humiliating.

He brought me to a beautiful room right next to his. “This is your room now. Tomorrow, you set it up however you like,” he told me.

“No, I couldn’t…” I tried to speak, but he interrupted.

“It’s yours. No more talking. Time to get some sleep.” With this he covered me up with a large, soft, white quilt. “I’m going to get you some water. I’ll be right back,” and he stepped out of the room.

I could hear thousands of crickets outside, or whatever they were. Africa was truly a beautiful place. I understood why he came here, but in truth, I never actually asked him why or how he ended up here.

He returned with the water in his hand and handed it to me. He then handed me a white pill. “Here, it will help you sleep.”

“NO!” I slapped it out of his hand. What am I nuts? He’s been nothing but nice to me.

He went and picked it up. “It’s not a drug, it’s an aspirin. I thought you might have a headache from all the crying.” He tossed it in the trash can and opened up the bottle he had in his pocket. He handed me another pill from the bottle. It said aspirin on it.

What a fool I am. I took it and started to apologize. “I’m so sorry, I…,” but he interrupted me again.

“They drugged the hell out of yah, didn’t they?”

I stared at him for a minute. “They tried. For the most part I was able to get rid of it, but on occasion they held me down.” This definitely upset him. He reached over and covered me with the blanket. “Is it okay if I stay up for a while? Watch the sun come up maybe?” I asked.

He smiled, “Of course. This place is enchanting. I’ll give you some space.” With this he stood up to leave.

“Father,” I spoke. This was the first time I had ever called him that. He turned back to me.

“What is it hun?”

“Uh, never mind.”

He smiled and left the room. I stared out the window. So many thoughts racing through my head. Too many, really. Fred would come for me. He’s surely figured out that I know he murdered my mother. I don’t want him to kill my father. I need to leave. I stood and went to the window, but I was in Africa. Where would I go?

TRAIN STATION

A man in dark brown cowboy boots steps off the train. He drops a cigarette and stomps it out with his heel. His boots make their way to a man of information. “Sam Monroe?” his gravelly voice questions the man.

“Sam, a very good man, a very good man.”

“I need to know where he is. I’ve got money, lots of it”.

The man with information pauses for a bit. “How much if I take you to him?”

The man in the boots sits down a long case with the word ‘Colt’ on it. “Plenty.”

CHAPTER TEN

Safari

So, my father finally figured it was time that I saw a bit more of the country, which in an ‘American in Africa’ terms meant a safari. I thought perhaps we’d fly somewhere. As it turns out, I love to fly. Must be a family trait. But this would not be the case. Instead, we would be taking that old beast of a Jeep that he had originally brought me here in. So we got together a week or so worth of clothing and supplies and headed out.

I slept for the first few hours, as we left sometime after 3 a.m., and I’m definitely not a morning person. When I awoke, we were having some crazy African rains, the like I’ve never seen. Once the sky cleared, the colors were simply overwhelming. The sky had turned sort of a blood red and yellow blend. It was mind staggering. When you breathed in, the senses were simply amplified by the damp terrain. It was truly miraculous.

The lions, giraffes, and gazelles were amazing, as was all of the wildlife, but the most impressive thing about Africa was the vastness. The sheer magnitude of the space.

 

SAM’S ESTATE

A stranger pays Sam’s estate a visit. “I’m looking for Sam Monroe. Can you tell me where to locate him?” he inquires.

“No Sir, I cannot,” replies the very nervous house man.

“Perhaps I can persuade you,” he says as he forces his way into the home.

BACK ON THE SAFARI

On the fourth day my father took me to an amazing mass of water, and as the African sunset fell, the waters looked darker and darker. As my father made a camp fire, and set up the tent, I sat out by the water for what seemed to be hours as millions of stars filled the sky. The stars in turn reflected upon the water. It was then that my mind shifted to some sort of dream state.

FLASHBACK

I was back at my mother’s estate. I was maybe three years old. The kitchen lady at the time had poured me some breakfast cereal, and one of those little plastic toys fell out of the box. I remember reaching my little hands out for it, “Mine!” The woman smiled and opened it for me. It was red?… or… blue?

Anyway, as she handed it to me, Fred walked in the room and smacked it out of her hand. “She doesn’t need that,” he said, as he got himself some juice.

Tears started to well up in my little eyes and it was like he sensed it, as he turned to look right at me. “Don’t even think about it, little princess, or by God, I will smack you.”

It was just then that my mother walked in. “Fred, why must you be so cruel to little Mady?” With this, Fred suddenly back handed my mother across the face, knocking her clear off her feet and to the floor. THUNK! I can still remember the sound of her hitting the floor.

“Don’t you ever talk to me like that, woman! You understand!”

My mother stayed down on the floor wiping blood off her mouth, and looked over to me. “Stay quiet now, Mady.”

And that’s what I did for the next twelve years, stayed quiet.

THE PRESENT

Suddenly, I was back in my body, in a full sweat, as my Father was putting a blanket over my shoulders. “Not hungry tonight, eh?”

I looked over at him. “He was a monster,” I said.

My father looked at me with a puzzled look on his face. “Who?” he asked.

“Fred,” was all I said.

“Oh, him. Yeah,” he replied, as he sat beside me.

“I always blamed mother for being with him…” I looked at him once more, “…but now I think, maybe she was afraid to leave.”

My father pondered this a bit. “Could be,” he replied.

THE CONCLUSION

Stranger Ends

When my father and I returned to his estate, we were both exhausted, emotionally and physically. All the bonding and revelations were becoming quite tiresome. And yet…

We each made our way to our individual bedrooms for further rest. Strangely, his dark skinned house man was not present when we arrived, and yet, it seemed to be his primary duty to greet my father and, or other visitors. Hmm.

Quickly my eyes grew heavy as I fell upon my bed. What an adventure this has all been. What a

life my father leads. I’ve started not to mind Africa so much. Not that I’ve had the presence of

mind to mind much of anything as of late. And so, I slept.

2 HOURS LATER

I woke up and a man in an all-white suit was standing in front of me holding a rifle. “It’s time for you to come home, Mady. Your father’s been very worried about you,” he said with a maniacal grin. I simply stopped breathing. I suppose passing out would be my only way out.

CLICK The sound of a gun cocking suddenly comes from the door. It was my father holding a revolver. “Step away from the girl,” he said softly.

“You don’t want to do this Mr. Monroe. I…” the stranger began, but was interrupted.

“Mady, step out,” my father told me, and

without a second thought, I jumped out of bed and did what my father told me. The stranger’s eyes followed me the whole way. When I reached the living room I heard my father call out to me, “FURTHER MADY!” and so I went out to the backyard and hid underneath my father’s plane.

MY BEDROOM

“You’re going to regret this, Mr. Monroe. Do you know who I am?” said the stranger.

OUTSIDE

BAM! BAM!

Two shots were all that I heard. Apparently, my father had found the house man tied up in his closet. This was all it took for him to realize someone had come for me. The man never stood a chance.

LIVING ROOM

After that, my father and I lit a fire in the living room fireplace and sat before it. I curled up in a chair with a soft, white blanket, and he was on the couch, looking into the firelight. “What shall we do father? How will this ever end?” I asked softly.

“Oh, it will end,” he prodded at the fire with a metal poker as he spoke “It will surely end.” He went on to tell me that other men would come, but at some point Fred would stop sending hired guns and come himself. And on that day it would end.

Indeed, he was right. In the five weeks following that night, six attempts were made to take or kill me. Sometimes they’d come in sets of two, but none would prevail. My father killed them all, each time having me leave the house. I have no idea what he did with the bodies, I think he wanted it that way. Some sort of a desperate attempt to maintain any semblance of innocence inside me.

But I, like my father, knew what he was doing, and why it needed to be done. And so my soul was safe.

When the day finally came where my stepfather Fred at last stepped down on African soil, he never made it more than three miles from the train station. My father’s loyals made sure of that. My father preferred not to kill people he actually knew, as he was a hunter, not a killer. Besides, we were busy playing backgammon at home. Home, a word I had never known until now.

In three years, when my mother’s estate and all that entails becomes mine, I will simply sell it. That fine boy, Tommy Wilkens, and his family will receive a check in the amount of $200,000. Hopefully that will be enough to hold them over for a while, or perhaps get them a home of their own.

The rest of the money will merely sit in my savings, as I spend my days in Africa, with my father.

I miss my mother. I never thought I’d feel that way, but I do. It’s become quite clear to me why she loved my father. He is as steady as a mountain, as constant as the sunrise, and as loving as a winter storm, when there’s need for rain.

Let it rain I say…

Let it rain.

The End

OTHER PUBLISHED WORKS BY JAMES MAHONEY:

Winter, Lust, And Wonder – Poetry (2012)

White Jade – Comic Book (2012)

HIS BLOGS:

The Written Word @ darkjade68.wordpress.com

Legends Undying @ thedarkglobe.wordpress.com

Dark’s Media Empire @ darksmediaempire.wordpress.com

White Jade Comic @ whitejadecomic.wordpress.com

CONTACT INFORMATION:

E-mail JadeBlue68@yahoo.com

Twitter@DJWrittenWord

“I Died Once” – Chapters 6, 7 & 8

Posted in I Died Once, Kickstarter, Mady's Storm, Novella on February 11, 2015 by darkjade68

Novella One “I Died Once” Continues… Novella Two “Mady’s Storm” Kickstarter Project

Prologue, Chapter 1 & 2

Chapters 3, 4 & 5

ido

CHAPTER SIX

Dream State

BLACK AND WHITE SEQUENCE

A young, dark haired girl, maybe three, plays with a beach ball by the pool of Mady’s mother’s estate. As she plays, she is distracted by the sound of fighting within her home. The ball becomes loose and bounces towards the pool. The little girl pursues it and grabs it just before it falls into the water. The fighting continues.

She turns toward the house where she sees a man and woman fighting in the living room of the home. The little girl takes a step backwards, and is in the pool. As she falls, she lets’ go of the ball, and so, sinks slowly to the bottom. She stares upward through the water, but does not breathe. Not one bubble. Suddenly, a man is in the pool and pulls her out.

“Mady!! Are you alright!!?” he says frantically. The woman stands behind him and watches.

ALL TURNS BLACK

“I can’t stay here, Scarlet. I must go,” are the last words she hears before…

I’m awake. I find myself lying inside some sort of tent. I ascertain that it must be night, as the tent walls glow a wobbling yellow, like fire light. I grabbed a sweater and stepped outside. My father, er, Sam, had started a campfire and appeared to be cooking something. His back was turned to me.

“Boy, you really passed out,” he said.

“Mmm,” I replied, as I approached the fire rubbing my eyes. He looked at me while cooking something on a stick.

“Bad dreams,” interesting that he wasn’t asking. He was simply stating it like a truth.

“Perhaps,” I replied. Much silence went by,

save the clank of the tin plate as he dished me up some local meat and greens. “Thank you.”

The sounds of the African night were, well, torrential to the senses. But to the darkened soul, what else would they be?

It was at this point that he started to interrogate me again, or rather, make conversation. “So, pool, last breath, anything?” This surprised me, only because of the dream I had just had.

“Was my mother’s name Scarlet?” I replied.

He simply sat there staring at me. “It was, yes. You didn’t know your mother’s name?”

“No,” I solemnly replied. “Fred insisted on calling her Mrs. Holden,” as that was, er, is, Fred’s last name. Frederich Walter Holden the 3rd. Argh. “And she insisted that I call her mother.”

“Well, yes, Scarlet Violet Monroe, er, Vanderbelle was her maiden name.”

“What a tremendous name,” I proclaimed.

“Yeah, well, with a great name came a lot of pressure from her parents and her grandmother, Edith Donday Vanderbelle.” With this he seemed to almost growl.

“I see. Before you ask me a third time about not breathing in the pool, you might consider talking to me about something trivial.”

“Trivial?” he replied.

“Yes, like, where I got these boots, or…” I rose to fetch a glass of water, but he handed one to me first. “Thanks. …or why I never wear my reading glasses, and instead, set a book on my desk, and use the telescope from Uncle Henry to read them, whilst I sit in the comfort of my bed.”

He stood. “I don’t do trivial.” With this he cleaned up and headed for a blanket he had laid out on the ground for himself. I simply watched. Well, no wonder he left my mother. If he doesn’t do trivial, then he couldn’t have possibly “done” her, as the whole of who she was, was trivial. I went to bed.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Withdrawal

During our next days of traveling we didn’t speak all that much, but the sights and views of Africa were more than apt to sustain me. As my deep blue eyes stared outwardly, they seemed to widen, or at least it felt that way. Minutes became hours, hours became days, until at last we reached my father’s estate. I was starting to give up on referring to him as Sam, even in the sanctum of my own thoughts.

He seemed to have business with a dark skinned man that ran the place while he was gone, and so I adjourned to the room I was given, which was near a small lake. I seemed to be dragging a bit today, as my bag seemed quite heavy, and I knew that it was not.

Once inside, it was a very nice room and would more than do. It was at that point that I found myself in some sort of catatonic stagger making my way to the water’s edge, and then it happened. I collapsed, and lay in a flood of my own tears. Was it my mother’s death? Or sheer exhaustion from the journey. I knew not. What I did know was I wasn’t going to let my father find me this way, as I’m sure he, too, was feeling the effects of this ‘sudden’ daughter. And so, I somehow rose to my feet, and made my way to the main house.

He was inside a smoking room with a short drink of whiskey at his side. “Well hello…” with this he rose to his feet and set down his paper. “…caught a nap did yah.” This struck me as a curious thing to say, as we had just arrived, but then, as I looked at the small watch around my

27

wrist, I realized that I must have been lying by the water for some three hours and not realized it. I removed the watch and set it on the end table nearby, for I had no interest in time as of late. Time had stopped the moment I descended into my mother’s pool, and in truth, I had yet to have ascended.

He approached me with a smidgen of curiosity in his eyes. “What’s this on your face?” It was as if time slowed as he reached and wiped away a bit of dirt from the side of my face, as I had made a resting place of the ground by the water. I teared up. Now, I knew he didn’t know how to react to this, so instead he began to walk by me. I felt my heart sink, but then his hand took mine as he passed. “Come on, Mady, Tatenda has prepared us some food.” And so we went to supper.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Taking Flight

“You Must Seek the Truth, it is Inherent in you

From This Truth Will Come Love

From this Love, You will Fly Free”

THE CHRONICLES OF MADY MONROE-

The next morning I was awakened by the light, oh so bright. An African day awaited me. Outside I could hear the loud rumblings of some sort of engine. To my surprise, as I drew the curtains back in my room, I could see a decent sized four engine prop plane. Sam, err, my father, was all garbed out in goggles and a pilot’s hat and jacket, and was headed towards my guest house. I quickly threw my dark hair into a ponytail, which is no easy task with my wavy hair, and tossed on some khakis and a white blowsy shirt.

He came in. “Good Morning Mady,” he said. I waved back in reply. “It’s time you saw a bit more of Africa, as well as my diamond mine.”

“Alright,” I replied, not really knowing what to think.

“Come on,” he waved me outside.

Before I knew it, we had taken flight, and I was in the air. My instinct was to close my eyes and stick my arm out the window, but I would have to settle for closing my eyes.

“So you really are a pilot,” I said.

He looked at me, “Yes.”

The plane was very loud, yet for some reason I didn’t mind its rumblings. I closed my eyes and just listened to the engines hum as we hit the sky.

“Look,” he said as he touched my arm.

I looked down upon the African plain and saw a whole flock of giraffes running, behind them a male lion in chase. I gasped. “Will he catch them?”

My father looked at me, “All he wants is one.”

It was beautiful to see, and yet, somehow, tragic. My eyes started to tear as we flew over. Wow, it seems as though everything makes me cry these days.

The sky in front of us was vast, filled with strips of distant clouds, surrounded by soft, misty blue skies.

I closed my eyes for most of the journey, as I didn’t need them to see. It became quite clear to me why I was here. The pains inside would do their best to keep hold, but they would not be victorious. Not here. Not now.

Soon we reached the site of the diamond mine, a huge hole in the side of a mountain. “There it is,” he said.

“Ah.” I replied. He then swung the plane over and around it, and headed off into a completely new direction. “We’re not landing?” I inquired.

“Nah,” he replied, a man of few words. The next half hour or so were filled with such sights. I can hardly put it to words. My insides filled with mysteries and questions that only the landscape could answer.

After a while, I found myself dosing off, and noting this, he turned back and headed towards his estate. Bleary eyed, I rolled my head towards him as I lay it against the seat. “So, what do yah think?” he asked.

“I tried to kill myself,” was my reply. With this his eyes widened.

“Well…” he managed. Why did I say that? What was I thinking? “…that is a thing,” he continued. A thing, yeah, okay. I turned and looked out the window. Suddenly, he put his hand on my shoulder, grasping it really, and so I returned my gaze to him, my blue eyes darkening.

He stared at me with his deep brown eyes and said “My god, I’m glad you didn’t succeed,” and with this, he was the one who teared up. All I could do was simply smile. Something I hadn’t done in a long, long, time.

“I Died Once” – Chapter 3, 4 & 5

Posted in I Died Once, Kickstarter, Mady's Storm, Novella on February 10, 2015 by darkjade68

Novella One “I Died Once” Continues… Novella Two “Mady’s Storm” Kickstarter Project

Prologue, Chapter 1 & 2

ido

CHAPTER THREE

And Then He Came

And then he came…

On the eleventh day after my mother’s death an old pickup truck arrived in the driveway of my mother’s estate. An old man drove it, and in the passenger seat was a man in an old brown leather jacket wearing a hat pulled down over his face. When they got out of the truck, I noticed the passenger’s pants and boots were also very beaten and worn down.

Fred ran out to the driveway, arms flailing,

assuming they had taken a wrong turn, or

something. I took a bite out of my apple. This was getting good.

The man in the hat pointed at the back of the pickup truck, and the old man responded by taking out what appeared to be a wrapped rug, threw it over his shoulder, and headed towards the house.

At first, Fred tried to stop him, but then followed him in. This is when the man in the hat looked over my way and motioned for me to come quickly. Somehow, he knew I was behind the bush. What should I do? What could I do? Before I knew it, I was sprinting towards him. He quickly opened the passenger door, shuffled me to the passenger side floor, and shut the door.

Suddenly, I heard Fred’s voice as he and the driver returned to the truck, “Well, I certainly do

appreciate you delivering the rug.” It was the first time I had heard it since the night he killed my mother. Terror filled me, my heart started to beat

rapidly, and I began to sweat.

“Who did you say sent it?” Fred asked the driver of the truck.

“A man called Sam Monroe from Africa,” the old driver replied.

“Oh, okay, well thank you. Can I get you two gentlemen a drink?” Please say no, I thought to myself.

“Nope, we’ll be on our way,” said the man in the hat. He had a notably soothing voice, which seemed to calm me a bit. The huge knife on his belt didn’t hurt either.

“Very well, thanks again,” I heard Fred say, and we left.

The old man never looked down at me curled on the floor, as if the man in the hat had told him to expect a visitor. After a while, the man in the hat looked down at me. “You can come up now,” and so I hesitantly moved onto the seat between the two men.

“How did you know I was in the bushes?” I managed.

“In Africa you must always be watchful of things in the brush.”

“Africa?”

“Yup, and that’s where we’re headed.” He then did the oddest thing. He stuck his hand out, “My names Sam, by the way. Sam Monroe.”

CHAPTER FOUR

My Father From Africa?

That ride was very odd indeed. The rest of the way I didn’t say a word. When I sent that note to my father’s supposed address in Africa, I never for the life of me expected a reply, and certainly not like this.

Perhaps showing you the note I sent him might illuminate a few things.

Dear Father,

Fred has killed mother and wrapped her in your living room rug.

Best fetch me at once, for he just took three close range shots at my bed with his revolver.

Fortunately, I was out in the pool, breathing my last breath.

Your Daughter,

Mady

No indeed, a response of any type was not what I expected. Yet, here he was sitting next to me, almost on top of me, really, as I was squished between him and the old man.

Finally, he spoke as he rolled a cigarette. “So what’s this you say about ‘breathing your last breath’?”

“Huh? Oh, the note. It’s nothing.”

He looked at me. “Nothing, huh? Doesn’t sound like nothing.” I didn’t reply, and instead went on looking straight ahead. “Oh well, maybe later then.”

“So you brought Fred a rug?” I’m not exactly sure why I asked that. Perhaps some part of me wanted to talk to him on a more intimate level, but instead said something trivial.

“Oh, yeah, you said he wrapped yer mum up in that African rug I had in the living room, so I thought I’d give him a new one.” With this he looked at me. “You know, as kind of a ‘I know what you did’ message to his subconscious.”

This surprised me. “Uh, isn’t that kind of dangerous? I mean, he’s a killer.”

With this he smiled. “Oh no, I’m the killer. You should see my library wall at home. Every hunt-worthy beast in Africa has found their head mounted there. No, old Fred I suspect, as I’ve always suspected, is just a money-hungry, greedy bastard, heh, and a sloppy murderer at that.”

Well, with this I had to agree with dad. Dad? Eww, don’t think I like that. I’ll just call him Sam.

CHAPTER FIVE

A Diamond Mine

The next hand full of days, I couldn’t say how many, were full of trains, planes, boats, and automobiles, and at last, dirt. Oh, and sky, oceans, and animals. Yes, lots of animals. I had arrived in Africa. South Africa, to be specific. I dare not be more specific than that, or I might offend a local.

As Sam, my father as it were, handed a dark skinned man money, our very minimal bags were placed into a vehicle, and the two of us were off.

Apparently, Sam owned a small diamond mine with some other men; however, he spent no time there, and instead hunted and traveled the surrounding lands. I suppose his life was an adventure, I dare say. Nothing like my own had been. This was a sort of second life for me. Strange to think, if my mother hadn’t died, I wouldn’t be alive. But I dare not ponder too much on that.

Sam seemed a fairly simple man. One that, in his rustic way, soaked in everything around him. Perhaps that’s why on occasion he’d ask me personal questions. He probably figured he should know a bit about me if I, too, was to be sucked in.

“Tell me about your life, Mady. Did you have any hobbies, or pets, or…” with this he looked over at me “…girl things that you liked to do?”

Yikes, girl things. How appalling, and yet, I tried my best to be polite. “Not so much. Mother took away my paints, as she felt it distracted me from more sensible things like clothing, makeup, and schoolwork.”

“I see,” he replied.

“As far as pets, I wasn’t allowed any. As she put it, ‘What would be the point?”

“Aye, she wasn’t the most cozy of women, I’ll give you that,” he said, which kind of surprised me. Him discussing anything to do with her and him, that is.

With this, I mustered up some courage. “Did you ever love her?”

He didn’t reply, nor look my way for quite some time, until, “LOOK OUT!!” Suddenly, he hit the brakes and all seemed to slow down as he threw his great musket across the front of me and placed my hand on the wheel. I tucked my head towards him, and he took a shot. BLAM!! In one shot he took down what he called a white rhino. It fell to the ground with a THUMP! “That thing would have knocked this vehicle over!” he gasped, then looked at me. “Yes, I loved her.”

“I Died Once” – Prologue, Chapter One & Chapter Two

Posted in I Died Once, Novella on February 9, 2015 by darkjade68

I thought it would be nice to Post My First Mady Novella “I Died Once”, which I Self-Published in July, 2012

Especially for those of you that are interested in partaking in my “Mady’s Storm” Kickstarter Project, and haven’t had the opportunity to read the First Book yet.

I’m going to Post it in sections, starting with the Credits, Prologue, Chapter One & Two

===============================================================================

ido“I Died Once” – Prologue, Chapter One & Chapter Two

I Died Once

A Novella

 

By James Mahoney


I Died Once

A Novella by James Mahoney

@ jamespatrickmahoney.wordpress.com

Cover Art by

Mónica Gomes @ cargocollective.com/smog

Cover Design by

James Mahoney

& Kirsty Pang @ laplumenoire.co.uk

Editing by

Nina Colt

Special Thanks to Bethany Beckman

The Author

James Mahoney is a self-published author living in Southern California. A dreamer and storyteller, James’ first dream at the age of five was to be a professional baseball player.

This changed, however, in 1977 after seeing the original “Star Wars” in theaters. It was then that James decided he wanted to be a film maker/director, and during the years of 2000-2003 he pursued this craft.

From 2003-2005 he began writing feature film screenplays and, after two years of this, he looked to have one of his completed screenplays turned into a comic book. After submitting comic book pages to several comic book companies to no avail, he set writing aside.

Four and a half years later, James began his first of many blogs, “The Written Word”, where he would begin building and developing his writing craft.

He did this through poetry, blog stories, novels, and journalism.

It was here that he wrote the first draft of, “I Died Once”.

This is James’ first ever published novella.

This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to real people or events is purely coincidental.

I DIED ONCE

Copyright © 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015 James Mahoney

All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form.

DarkJade Publishing

Printing by CreateSpace.com

Second Edition: March 2013

Printed in the United States of America

0 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2

This book is dedicated to my mom, who has the heart of a lion and enough passion to last ten life times, and her boyfriend of 30 plus years; Warren Lawson, Architect, poetic soul, and my best man for life…

Also, to my dad, who read my first novel efforts when I was 11, turned to me and said, “You’re a Writer…”

Special Thanks also go out to Leanne Sowter, my favorite writer (right after Shakespeare that is, Lol), and my greatest and most inspiring follower, whose encouragement has helped to inspire me along the way.

And to Kirsty, who not only helped me design the book cover, but also has played a vital role in designing the look of my journalism blog, “The Dark Globe”.

And last, but not least, Beth, who took being a reader of my work to a whole new level with her “thorough” reviews, and “line editing” of my work.

Wait, I mustn’t forget my brother, of without whose friendship; my life would surely be half as good.

Prologue

Mady was a Dark Child…

She often sat alone in her bedroom, on the floor, sorting through this or that. Generally some sort of pharmaceuticals.

It’s good that she was never allowed to own a cat… or a fish… or any other sort of domestic animal, as they would have likely ended up at the end of some sort of experimentation… with drastic results.

It’s not that she’s “mean” per-se… No.

It’s more that she’s disjointed, an outcast really, from her own home…

From her mother’s heart.

Yes, Mady is a dark one, but what else was she to be in a world devoid of light.

CHAPTER ONE

STATE OF MURDER

I sat alone. Legs crossed in my short black skirt in the waiting room of yet another know-all, fix-all, quack of my mother’s finding.

I am a fifteen year old girl, five foot eight, lean, dark haired, blue eyed, with skin not as fair as I might like.

I crossed my arms tightly, feeling the softness of my dark blue sweater, a gift from my father’s mother at Christmas some two or three years ago.

My father. What a joke that is. A pilot in Africa, they say. How nondescript.

“Caroline Monroe,” the nurse called out.

I pretended not to hear her. Besides, my name is Mady. My mother’s, mother’s, mother’s name. Madeline, that is.

“Excuse me miss, are you Miss Caroline

Monroe?”, the nurse spoke as she leaned over me.

“Mady,” I replied.

“Oh yes, your mother mentioned you go by Mady.”

“Nice of you to listen,” I spat, rising from my seat and grabbing my small blue rhinestone bag. A gift from a cousin, well, actually, I took it.

The next two or so hours were filled with many, many questions asked by the uninterested Doctor Spiner, and let’s face it, who cares what the answers were. In the end it would all be the same.

“Now Caroline…”

“Mady!” I replied adamantly.

“Oh yes, your mother mentioned that you prefer your middle name.”

“Did she, now,” I sighed.

“Now Mady, I want you to take two of these pills twice a day.” He handed me a large bottle. “They will help you to relax.”

On the long ride home, and going anywhere with my mother was a long ride, I stared blankly out the window, which was open slightly. Discreetly, I would drop one pill after another onto the outside road. Plink Plink Plink

When we arrived at my mother’s home, a large estate left to her from her industrious father, I quickly made my way up the long, winding stairs, “Now Mady…,” but not quick enough.

I turned to face her. Now, my mother has a long faced countenance and over dresses for every occasion. On this occasion she was wearing a ball gown. “Yes mother,” I replied.

“Betsy is preparing a fine dinner; do be back down in no more than 15 minutes, will you darling.”

“Okey Dokey,” I replied and turned away.

“Your father and I shall be going out.”

I turned and faced her once more. “Fred is not my father.”

“Oh Mady, must you be so…”

“Honest? Yes,” I interjected.

“I was going to say…” she started to say, but I was already up the stairs and into my room. Slam!

As I sat alone in the dark staring at the ceiling, I could hear Betsy quietly enter and set a tray of food on my desk. She always did. Betsy wasn’t so bad, but she wasn’t worth staying for.

Roast beef, mashed potatoes with gravy, and a big fluffy roll, how delightful. Tommy would really like this.

Just then a small pebble struck my window, as it did every evening at this hour. I opened my window to see Tommy Wilkens standing down below, as he always did. I quickly lowered the

food tray down to him, and then back up once

he’d emptied it.

“Thank you, Mady,” he whispered just audibly enough that I should hear him. I waved to him as he snuck off to his home some one or two miles down the road.

Tommy’s family lived in a back shack on the Johnson’s estate. His father was their gardener, but they were very poor, being at the receiving end of the tight fisted Johnsons. I had fed him for years. Who would feed him when I was gone?

When midnight struck, I made my way to our large pool in the back, beyond Mother’s roses. Before the pool, I stripped down completely. Why ruin a perfectly good set of flannel pajamas? And dove in…

Under the water it was beautiful and quiet. Above, I could see all the brilliant stars. Now, I’m a decent swimmer, so this may take a few minutes, as drowning one-self is tricky business.

That’s when I heard the scream.

CHAPTER TWO

MOTHER NO MORE

Slowly, I brought my head out of the water and peeked over the ridge of the pool. My deep blue eyes pierced through the darkness and into our living room.

Fred looked to be holding one of our ivory horse bookends. He sat it down and grabbed my mother’s feet, as she lay motionless on the floor.

What happened next is a bit of a blur, but I believe he wrapped her in her favorite African rug, a gift from my mysterious father.

He then made his way to my room. He looked to be holding a gun. I watched, frozen in shock and horror. When he reached my room, he

didn’t turn on my light. He simply fired three shots into my bed. We had no nearby neighbors, so no one was likely to hear the shots, or see the flash of gun fire from my window. No one, that is, but me.

After this, he went back to the living room, picked up my mother, who was wrapped in the African rug, and carried her out the front door. I assume he put the body in the trunk of his car. He then drove off.

In a trance of a sort, I got out of the pool, grabbed my pajamas, and went inside the house. I hesitantly made my way into the living room, holding my pajamas in my arms. There was a small amount of blood on the floor, and I was dripping water.

I quickly made my way to my bedroom where

my bedding and mattress had been ripped up from the gun shots. I put some clothes on, sat

down at my desk, wrote a short note, and put it in an envelope. I then opened a wooden box said to have been sent from my father from Africa. From inside the box I took out a scrap of paper, which had an address in Africa written on it. I copied the address onto the envelope.

I then ran outside and put the note into the mail box. After this, I went to Tommy’s home. He said I could stay with them while I waited. And wait I did.

I simply told his parents that our estate was being fumigated and I didn’t want to stay in a hotel with my mother and Fred, who was actually my stepfather.

What a shock it must have been for Fred when he returned and found my body wasn’t there. He favored himself a hunter, and so I would imagine

the hunt was on.

The first few days the police came, I avoided the house while they searched for me. After which, I would make my way to my mother’s estate, hiding in the bushes near the long half circle driveway.

How did he explain it? Originally, his plan might have been that my mother shot me and then disappeared, but what now? My mother and I simply left town?

And what about my mother’s body? If her money is what he’s after, how could he place the body somewhere they could find it, and still hope for her inheritance when I’m still missing? He must be very stressed right now, very stressed indeed. With this, I smiled slightly.

After a week or so of doing this, I had gotten into a bit of a routine. A simple breakfast with Tommy’s family, and when I say simple I mean boxed cereal. This was followed by a journey from their home to my mother’s estate where I would lay behind the bushes and watch Fred tear out of the driveway in his little silver convertible that my mother bought him last Valentine’s Day.

Happy V-Day Fred. Each time he’d return, skidding into the long curved driveway, and rush inside the house.

At some point, he let poor Betsy our cook go. I don’t think Fred wanted anyone else around. To be honest with you, Fred wasn’t all together that couth. At this point, I think he became the primary suspect, as detective’s came and went frequently.

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