Introducing: Chronicles of The Fallen – By Yas Hamood

“Hope was the phantom friend, the elusive relative that arrived just in the nick of time with no real purpose or reason.”

‘Fallen’ Part 1

yas1

http://www.amazon.co.uk/The-Fallen-Book-One-ebook/dp/B0060VMWTA/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1321446892&sr=1-1

“A solid piece of storytelling that takes a fresh angle on a phenomenally popular genre.” Gregory Jameson.

‘Awakening’ Part 2

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Awakening-Chronicles-The-Fallen-ebook/dp/B00B0GAAY4/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1358970476&sr=1-1

Review from ‘Book Lover’

“I enjoyed this book as I kept wanting to know what was going to happen next. The detail in the book was also very good and you could just imagine it really happening!! Can’t wait for part 2!”

Sharing the Love!

I have to take a moment to send a shout out and share some love for a great, new writer who has just published her second novel in her ‘Fallen’ series.  They are available with Kindle, you can check them out on the links above and I can honestly say that I could not put them down!

Recently I have been reading some quite heavy SciFi (Steven King’s The Stand, I had to put it down because it’s massive!) and a bit of Romance in the form of Time Travelers Wife, which was nice, but I needed something different and I am quite partial to a bit of fiction.

Fallen was just the thing.  I won’t give anything away, you will have to give it a read yourself… ok, just a little bit!  It’s a classic good vs bad, but with a humorous and graffically grousome edge that you really don’t expect when you start reading and get into the first few pages.  In the first 2-3 pages I was already hooked on the central character, Aurora, with her sarcastic, dry humour and wanted to find out if her love interest, Lucian, saves the day as always happens… brilliantly the storey unfolds with some great twists and vividly bloody fight scenes.  Fantastic!

Awakening is just as gripping as the first.  Here you get to know the back storey behind the central characters, learn their history and their making.  Her discriptive talent is perfect, in both books Yas really paints a beautiful scene enabling you to picture everything from the buzzing streets of cultural Camden to the huge and beautiful, shimmering, soft, angel wings (this was a favourite of mine).  You really bond with the characters even more and Yas leaves you satisfyingly hungry, wondering what in the hell is going to happen to everyone next!

Nice one, Yas!  Don’t keep us hanging too long for the next installment! 🙂

Yas Hamood

yas

Yas grew up in London. She has a passion for young adult fiction, and spends most of her spare time writing short stories. Her favourite childhood authors are Christopher Pike, L.J. Smith, Stephen King & Richard Laymon.

Follow her on Twitter: @yassminh

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/YasHamood

The Mid-Week Crawl…

Mid September and the shift in the weather brings unbearable streaming noses, sore throats and head colds which infamously whore themselves around schools and offices.  The morning snoozes are stretched even if barely,  to a further 5-10 minutes as the thought of the chill, now apparent in the bathroom floor on tootsies at 6.30 am, confirms that the oh-so-fleeting ‘summer’ is definitely skipping on.

Tearing yourself from the warm and safe embrace of the gorgeous one next to you, you stumble to let in the cat (which you have left clawing and crying for a good hour, in a not often won war-of-the-wills) outside your window.  There’s an icy touch to the air moving thoughts to the knee high-socks hidden in the back of the underwear drawer, if only you could find them in the sleepy haze of the half-lit bedroom.

Thankfully snuggled in coat and woolly hat it’s a lazy stroll to catch a train loaded with fellow sleepy  commuters and energetic, loud school children.  With the crisp chill in the air and coffee/tea/beechams in hand, the sunny blue sky with its fluffy white clouds brings a spring to the step.  Birds chirping, the pigeons hobbling about on the quiet street with the huge, grey and scarily aggressive looking baby seagulls, it’s actually a lovely, fresh autumn morning walk.

A couple of notoriously gross, bulging bottomed and speckly bodied spiders have spun their webs on a bush under a tree by the car park.  Early morning sparkling dew catches the eye offering an awesome photo opportunity.  Standing in position, but not too close mind, there’s actually 6 or 7 webs neatly positioned and clustered together over the straggly bush.  Delicate looking, some small some large, its like mummy and daddy spider have been teaching the baby spiders to weave their webs.  Unfortunately the camera-phone cannot capture  the webs which are placed on angle to each other, sun gleaming through, making them not seem quite so freaky and grotesque like they do when blindly stumbled into going down the steps to your basement flat.

Shaking off that thought, your toes flex in fond memory against the restricting but admittedly cosy socks when you notice a guy walking across the street in denim shorts and flip flops.

Strategically standing behind a mother and her child on the station platform as the train arrives and following them on, a seat is commandeered!  Tucked safely in said seat enjoying the warm travel cup, you can listen to the music the bloke in front has on his headphones like it’s a radio.  you idly wonder the million dollar question.. why do they need to have it up so loud?  Pondering this question, supping your tea you frown and wonder the other million dollar question:  when did you start to sound so old?!

Stepping off the train into a light humid drizzle you pull up the ample hood to your new winter coat, only to find that fashion seems to have dictated that the massively wide and snugly hood on your three quarter length cosy jacket is two inches short of actually covering your head from the rain.  If it was not 8.30 AM this would be funny…

Hot and sweaty from the stomp outside and the climb up the stairs inside, you que at the tea machine stealthily flapping your cardy before those inevitable under-arm sweat patches start to appear.  Nursing the all important second cup the clock hits 08.55 AM , you attempt to kick-start your brain to ‘Go” mode and join the light banter of ‘Pointless Tuesday’.  Loading the feckless machine and the ump-teen programs that demand attention, you half heartedly flick through the daily emails that pop up with their friendly ‘ping’ and supp the heavenly tea/coffee/beechams, feeling the bones thaw.

Filing necessary emails here to there,  skimming news updates, putting to one side charity fundraisers, recoiling from works quiz nights, crying at the mentions of ‘it will soon be Christmas’ you think to yourself: ‘only three more sleeps until Friday.’  As the phone rings, you prepare your cheerful, posh ‘phone voice, only to find your nose has started to run and you have no tissue…

The joys of the 9-5, how I would not change it for all of the tea in china and the cheese and cider in Somerset!

Well, I could not promise that 🙂

Choose wisely

Choose wisely.

I thought this was a lovely blog and I did sit and reflect after reading.. I definatley believe that you must protect whats right for you and never be afraid to make changes!

You are only here for a short while 🙂

Beauty In Dead Things

Whilst supping my Earl Gray and setting up my art stuff for a session, I noticed my flowers were wilting and looking a bit worse for wear.

These flowers were the bunch my Dorchester bought for me that I mentioned in my last blog ‘Techno Failure Rage’, they last a while being shop bought, about ten days  (one of the reasons he does not buy flowers, as well as the fact he can’t afford to go to buy flowers from a florists he says, is the fact they die).  But obviously this is going to be a natural occurrence whether they are bought from a florists or Waitrose.

The shop bought flowers are chemically altered to last about ten days, plus their colouring is not natural either.  One thing I have noticed because of this is that before the head of the flower fully starts to wilt the stalks actually start to become mouldy.  This kind of feels a bit wrong.. beautiful flowers altered to unnaturally last and stay looking pretty long after they are supposed to, just for our viewing pleasure.

I actually used to make a point of buying myself a bunch of reduced price, already wilting flowers at 6am on my way home from a night shift, to give them their lease of life before they got thrown in the bin like a singular sock left in the drawer.  I love flowers, especially Chrysanthemums, and I loved seeing them bloom back with a new spark of life, once placed in the vase with their flower food 🙂

But anyway.. I could go off on one about farmed flowers but I regretfully do not have enough time to dig via Google into the background and method of chemically altering and dying flowers at this time of writing.  It will be food for thought and a story for another time, methinks..

My main reason for posting today is my dying roses, dyed yellow with orange dipped edges.

The bright and fleshy leaves when fresh, now delicately crumpling.. they seemed to be determined to hang onto and show off their bright false colour, even though their life had already ebbed away.  The Chrysanthemums still standing tall only slightly showing wilting petals, it seemed to me that the roses were commanding that you notice them, respect them, in their last standing moments.  Of course I obliged.

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“Beauty is unbearable, drives us to despair, offering us for a minute the glimpse of an eternity that we should like to stretch out over the whole of time.”
– Author Unknown

“Though we travel the world over to find the beautiful, we must carry it with us or we find it not.”
– Ralph Waldo Emerson

‘Ordinary riches can be stolen, real riches cannot.  In your soul are infinitely precious things that cannot be taken from you.’

-Oscar Wilde

Beauty In Dead Things

Whilst supping my Earl Gray and setting up my art stuff for a session, I noticed my flowers were wilting and looking a bit worse for wear.

These flowers were the bunch my Dorchester bought for me that I mentioned in my last blog ‘Techno Failure Rage’, they last a while being shop bought, about ten days  (one of the reasons he does not buy flowers, as well as the fact he can’t afford to go to buy flowers from a florists he says, is the fact they die).  But obviously this is going to be a natural occurrence eventually, whether they are bought from a florists or Waitrose.

The shop bought flowers are chemically altered to last about ten days, plus their colouring is not natural either.  One thing I have noticed because of this is that before the head of the flower fully starts to wilt the stalks actually start to become mouldy.  This kind of feels a bit wrong.. beautiful flowers altered to unnaturally last and stay looking pretty long after they are supposed to, just for our viewing pleasure.

I actually used to make a point of buying myself a bunch of reduced price, already wilting flowers at 6am on my way home from a night shift, to give them their lease of life before they got thrown in the bin like a singular sock left in the drawer.  I love flowers, especially Chrysanthemums, and I loved seeing them bloom back with a new spark of life, once placed in the vase with their flower food 🙂

But anyway.. I could go off on one about farmed flowers but I regretfully do not have enough time to dig via Google into the background and method of chemically altering and dying flowers at this time of writing.  It will be food for thought and a story for another time, methinks..

My main reason for posting today is my dying roses, dyed yellow with orange dipped edges.

The bright and fleshy leaves when fresh, now delicately crumpling.. they seemed to be determined to hang onto and show off their bright false colour, even though their life had already ebbed away.  The Chrysanthemums still standing tall only slightly showing wilting petals, it seemed to me that the roses were commanding that you notice them, respect them, in their last standing moments.

Of course I obliged.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

“Beauty is unbearable, drives us to despair, offering us for a minute the glimpse of an eternity that we should like to stretch out over the whole of time.”
– Author Unknown

“Though we travel the world over to find the beautiful, we must carry it with us or we find it not.”
– Ralph Waldo Emerson

‘Ordinary riches can be stolen, real riches cannot.  In your soul are infinitely precious things that cannot be taken from you.’

-Oscar Wilde

Words From Oscar Wilde

‘The critic has to educate the public.  The artist has to educate the critic.’

‘Ordinary riches can be stolen, real riches cannot.  In your soul are infinitely precious things that cannot be taken from you.’

‘I have the simplest tastes.  I am always satisfied with the best.’

‘Do not spoil what you have by desiring what you have not; remember that what you now have was once among the things you only hoped for.’

Desiderata – My Reminder

‘With all it’s sham, drudgery and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world’ Desiderata

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Desiderata

A Beautiful quote to remember.

I designed a tattoo with this quote in Latin.  Wonderfully translated by a great bloke I met at a beer festival ‘Mr Swerve’.  (I still owe him a bottle of Pimms or two for his time, I think.. I shall get that to you one day soon, Mr Swerve! xx)

I wanted to capture this quote as it is fantastically inspiring to me, reminding me that nothing is so bad that you should let yourself go.  That if you try hard enough, you can make changes for yourself however small.  The Chrysanthemum was my late Grandfather and Grandmothers favourite flower, and also mine.

They were a great inspiration to me and ‘Nanny’ was brilliantly talented with many things; they both made dolls houses, dolls house furniture, ‘Gaga’ (I couldn’t say Granddad) made boats, wooden bowls etc.  Nanny made china dolls, tried to teach me Tapestry, knitting, she painted with oils and watercolours.  I never did pick up knitting or tapestry though!

It was through her I became creative,  she taught me life’s valuable lessons like ‘treat people the way you yourself would like to be treated’, never to be judgemental towards people.  My mother, Liz, left when I was about two and Nanny (my mothers mum) was there, she largely shaped who I am today.  My Father was mostly preoccupied trying to live his life as well as be a father, they were both very young, he was 19 Liz was 16.

Gaga – Mac, passed away from a heart attack a few years before her and as Nanny – Daphney – was the one who had been ill everyone was shocked.  Nanny was a very strong woman, she battled a stroke and cancer twice (they never let on to me exactly what went on as I was too young, apparently) as well as the loss of her husband, but unfortunately when cancer came a third time she decided she had had enough.  This was early December about 5 years ago.

And so Desiderata for me holds a lot of meaning.  I have been very lucky through my life and one day soon I shall have my tattoo completed (It is still a sketch on my skin right now, so fingers crossed I will eventually sell some paintings and afford to get it finished!?).  A reminder to me every morning, noon and night to be thankful, that life is still beautiful and full of precious people and memories who inspire and encourage 😉

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