Lennox McCaskill's Blog

Saturday, March 1th at 2:30 pm, I'll be answering your questions live on Twitter. Join me as @AGCinspires host a Twitter Chat on "Colossal: Issue #1"!

You can keep up with the conversation and submit your questions during the chat using #AGCchats.

I can't wait to hear from you!

Hello Readers, the countdown to "Fallen" is on! Have you been waiting to see what our heroes (and villains) have been up to since "Afflictions"?

Well, from now until book three's release this November, I'll be posting the synopsis for each of the four main characters, starting with Katie's below...

"Still unable to explain her powers, the line between “The Flying Girl” and Katie continues to blur. After a stranger emerges with a mysterious proposition, she’ll ignore the warnings of those closest to her and follow the promise for answers. Far from every thing she knows, Katie will have to fight her fears face-to-face to overcome a new foe."

Keep following along on my Facebook page to see how the rest come together this Fall.

Part 3

"Annalise?"

Who is that? The voice was soft and welcoming. She thought it was her mother at first, and the thought pleased her.

"Annalise, can you hear me?"

But then she realized that it wasn't her mother, her mother was gone. Annalise opened her eyes slowly as they would had she woken up from a long sleep and as her vision cleared she realized that she wasn't in her bed.

Far from it.

Sitting across from her at a long rectangular table in a dimly lit room was a woman who looked nothing like her mother. She had gray hair and a wore a brown shirt that was buttoned up to the neck. There was a smile on her face but it didn't match the expression in her eyes, which were strangely focused.

Annalise soon realized where she was as she gazed into the reflective glass panel behind the woman.

"Of course I can hear you," Annalise replied after an angry sigh. "I've been listening to you this whole time."

"Do you remember what we were just talking about?" the woman asked. "About what happened when you were...trapped in the bathroom?"

Annalise closed her eyes and nodded. "How could I forget? I was so scared..."

"Of Malcolm?" the woman interjected.

"Why are we talking about this?" replied Annalise. "I've told you everything that I remember...don't you believe me?"

The woman nodded as if to say 'of course' before glancing back over her shoulder at the glass panel. When she turned her head back around her smile faded.

"Annalise do you remember how you got here?" she asked.

"Of course I..." Annalise paused as she searched for the memory but drew a blank. That was strange. "I don't know. Why are you asking me these questions? Look you don't understand, Mal is a psycho. He killed Sawyer, he wants to kill my step-dad, and he tried to kill..."

Annalise's voice trailed off. She had moved to show the woman the wound on her hand from where Malcolm had stabbed her. However, a tight pull stopped her short. Her hands were cuffed to the table.

"What is going on?" she asked shakily. "Why am I wearing handcuffs?"

"Annalise," began the woman. "Stay calm. Try to think about the night you're step-father came home. Where..."

"What's going on?!" Annalise shouted as realized that her legs were also chained. "Why are you doing this? I didn't do anything...why are you doing this?"

"Just try to stay calm..."

Annalise screamed with rage as she slammed her fists on the table. "Stop saying that! Let me go!"

"We can't let you go Annalise," the woman replied after a startled jump.

Annalise shot up from the table and peered into the glass panel. It was then that she saw the orange jumpsuit draped over her frame in the reflection.

"What the hell is happening?!"

The woman made an easing motion with her hands "Annalise, you need to calm..."

"Why are you doing this to me?" Annalise returned. "I haven't do anything wrong? I'm a victim! Mal is still out there, he is the one you want!"

"Malcolm..." began the woman. "Mal, isn't real."

"You don't know what you're talking about!" replied Annalise. "I know he's real! He was my boyfriend. He is real and he wants to kill people. He tried to..."

She gasped as she looked over her hands. There was no stab wound, no scar, there wasn't even a bruise. Confused, Annalise slowly sunk back down in the chair.

"Annalise, try to focus on my voice," the woman spoke softly. "It is very important that you tell me what you remember."

"He tried to kill me. I ran to the bathroom and locked myself in. I opened the door and...I thought I woke up in bed. But I'm in here," Annalise replied, staring at the woman through the tears that were welling up in her eyes. "I'm not crazy."

"Nobody said you were, dear."

"But you are...I'm not crazy," Annalise muttered again.

The woman nodded and flashed a reassuring smile. "I know. You've just been a little confused, that's all. But don't worry, we've been through this before and you're doing great. Now you had said your step-father was coming home that night you had the dream about the bathroom. Do you remember when he actually arrived?"

"It wasn't a dream," Annalise replied.

The woman flashed another smile. This one seemed fake and immediately made Annalise question all the other times the woman had smiled at her. "I know it seemed very real to you, Annalise. But try to focus on my words. Do you remember what happened to your step-father when he came home?"

"You're talking to me like I'm crazy."

"I'm just trying to help you remember," the woman returned. "It's very important that you remember. We need to know where to find your step-father and the rest of them so we..."

"The rest of them?" Annalise muttered. "What are you talking about?" The woman took another quick glance over her shoulder, infuriating Annalise. "Who do you keep looking at? Is it Steve? Is he back there? Is he doing this?"

"Annalise," the woman began slowly as she seemed to be questioning something. Finally, she returned a defeated look. "Your step-father is dead."

"No! No, no, he isn't and even if he was you just said you were looking for him..." Annalise countered, her voice trembling. "You just said that!"

"We are looking for...the rest of him," the woman replied grimly. "We are also looking for a pair of Sawyer's friends, Megan Harris and Betty Thomas. They disappeared last week shortly after Sawyer's body was found. Annalise, you and I have spoken about them before. You said they were mean to you, like Sawyer...like your step-father. Do you remember those conversations?"

Annalise's head was spinning. The woman wasn't making sense. Betty and Megan couldn't have been gone. Malcolm said he had seen them walking home just yesterday...or the day before. She couldn't remember now. This woman was confusing and was making her feel bad for things that had nothing to do with her. None of this had anything to do with her.

"Mal did it," replied Annalise. "Whatever happened to Sawyer, whatever has happened...he did it. I don't know why you're keeping me here but if any thing bad has happened then it was Mal. He did it! He's the crazy one, I'm not!"

"Annalise, no one is using that word here, okay?" the woman replied cautiously. "But Mal is not...Annalise, I believe this Mal might be someone that you imagined. He's someone that you may have gotten very wrong advice from. Someone who made you do bad things to several people."

"I'm not crazy!" Annalise suddenly screamed. She held her breath, letting her face grow bright red until the woman, the room, everything went dark.

The next thing she remembered was beating against the table wildly like she had on the bathroom door. "I'm not crazy! I'm not crazy! I'm not crazy!" she berated. She had no idea how long it took her to stop, but when she did the woman that had sat across from her was gone.

Annalise sobbed loudly as she glanced down at the puddle of blood underneath her fists. "I'm not crazy..." she whispered one last time. The crying continued and Annalise sunk her head as she found herself again alone and trapped in a room.

Part 2

"Don't tell me you haven't thought about it," Malcolm lowered his voice as he spoke through the door. "Just think about how things would be if..."

"If what, Mal?! If you killed him?" Annalise snapped back. "No! No, I can't even believe...what is wrong with you?"

"I'm helping you Annie, can't you see that?"

Annalise shook her head adamantly. "I don't need any help from you. Get out."

"Annie..."

"Don't call me that!" Annalise shouted. "I liked you, Mal. I really, really..."

"I feel the same way," Malcolm replied softly. "Even more so. I thought you'd understand."

"Understand what? Understand that you want to kill my step-dad?" shot back Annalise angrily. "That you already killed somebody, that you already tried to kill me?!"

Annalise heard a light tapping as though Malcolm were typing on the door. "I didn't try to kill you."

"No, you just stabbed me with a fork..." Annalise scoffed as she wiped more tears from her face. "Please Mal, just go."

"What if he hits you next time?"

The question sparked a feeling inside of Annalise that caused her skin to go cold. Suddenly her hands were shaking. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"I'm talking about all those times you came home late or spoke your mind and Steve stood over you with a clinched fist," Malcolm replied. "I'm talking about him grabbing you by the arms and shaking you, screaming at you.."

"Stop it, Mal!" Annalise shot up from her spot on the side of the tub. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"We both know exactly what I'm talking about, Annie," he replied calmly. "How long until he finally snaps, hmm? Steve hates you..."

"No he doesn't..."

"He blames you for everything," Malcolm continued. "He blames you for what happened..."

"No, stop it Mal..."

But there was no letting up from the other side of the door. "He blames you for the accident. He thinks it's your fault for what happened to your mother..."

"Shut up!" Annalise suddenly lost control of her arms and began swinging wildly at the door. "Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!"

She attacked the door without reprieve for what could have been minutes until it was speckled red with her own blood. Malcolm's voice was muffled on the other side as Annalise could only hear herself hyperventilating. But his words became clearer as she caught her breath.

"Do you see how angry he's made you?" Malcolm said. "All these months of torment. Steve is just like Sawyer, Annie, maybe even worse. He makes you feel guilty about what happened, he wants you to feel guilty. It's okay to want him gone, you should want someone like that out of your life."

Annalise rotated her trembling hands, gazing at her bruised fingertips and bloody knuckles. What Malcolm was saying was...it was wrong in her head, she knew that. But she couldn't help but feel as though his motivations were right.

Her step-father had been like a demon ever since her mother died. He bullied her into blaming herself for everything wrong that ever happened in the house. He made her feel like she was crazy, like she didn't know what she was doing. Malcolm was right: Steve wasn't a good person and she had wished for him to just go away for so many months...

"Annie," Malcolm pleaded. "Annie, let me help you. Open the door. Please, Annie. Just open the door."

Annalise hesitated before reaching for the knob and pulling the door open.

Part 4

Part 1

"Sawyer won't be bullying anyone anymore," his response carried a mix of satisfaction and menace. It frightened Annalise. She stared at the door as if waiting for the punchline of what had to be a sick joke, but there was no laughter offered by Malcolm.

"Oh my God, Mal," she began shakily. "What did you do to her?"

"You hated her," he returned. "She victimized you every day..."

"Mal, just tell me what happened. What did you do?"

"Stop making this about me!" Malcolm shot back behind a powerful strike against the door. "You're the one who wanted this! You said that you wished she was dead! You practically begged me to kill her! STOP-MAKING-THIS-ABOUT-ME!"

The weight of the confession finally sunk Annalise to her knees. She was suddenly out of breath, as though it had been her screaming at the top of her lungs on the other side of the door.

"Mal, please tell me you didn't..." she let out weakly. "How could you...how could you do something like that?"

"Are you sad that she's gone?"

His callous voice injected a new vigor into Annalise. She leapt from the tile and lashed out on the door frame. "How could you!"

"Answer my question first," Malcolm returned.

"This isn't a game, Mal! You killed somebody!" Annalise screamed, again beating the door. "You're freaking crazy!"

"Just answer my question, Annie..."

"Don't call me that, asshole!" she shot back. "I can't believe you would...I don't even know who you are anymore."

Annalise heard the floor outside creek and quickly stepped back from the door.

"Think Annalise," Malcolm started again, his voice was now the calmer of the pair. "How good have these last few days been? How many times did you have to vent about Sawyer in your little notebook?"

How did he know about the diary?

"Leave me alone," she replied.

"Just think for a moment, okay? Doesn't it feel better knowing that she'll never bother you again? Doesn't it just feel right?"

"You..." Annalise paused as she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror of the medicine cabinet. Her eyes widened as she stepped closer towards it. Her face was mostly pale and glossy from the steady stream of frantic tears flowing down her cheeks. But her lips carried a much different impression as the sides were bent upwards in what at first glance appeared to be a smile.

Suddenly, a ghastly truth became evident in her mind: she was enjoying life more now with her antagonist gone. But the thought was fleeting and Annalise's stomach churned at the reflection in the mirror. She quickly banished the expression and turned back toward the door.

"You need to go," she said. "Now! Please just leave me alone."

"I want to help you," Malcolm returned. "You deserve a better life."

"Jesus, Mal you sound like a Goddamn psycho," Annalise said. She shrunk down to sit on the edge of the bathtub and buried her face into her shaking palms. "Please, just go. Leave me alone."

"What about Steve?"

Annalise's heart seemed to skip at the mention of her step-father's name. She looked back at the bathroom door, imagining Malcolm on the other side. She imagined him leaning his back against it like he would if waiting for her outside of the movie theater restrooms. But unlike their previous dates, tonight's had taken a sadistic turn.

"What about Steve?" she held her breath as soon as the last syllable had left her mouth.

"You're crazy!" screamed Annalise.

Then something strange happened. The rabid pounding on the bathroom door completely stopped. For a few moments, Annalise Shumacher felt the unease of one waiting for the next wave of aggression to come. But after a minute or so she began to wonder if by some miracle Malcolm had left.

She glanced at the door knob to see if the lock was still set before lifting herself from the tile. The floor creaked loudly as as she took her first step and Annalise froze, holding her breath with a dreaded anticipation.

After waiting a few seconds, she was surprised by the continued silence. What is he doing? Annalise wondered whether the nightmare was over? Had Malcolm, her Malcolm, finally come back?

As she inched closer to the door she began to hear a peculiar sound coming from down the hall. The sound became clearer with each tip-toed step until she finally realized what she was hearing.

"Mal?" she began, timidly placing her hands on the door. "Mal are you...crying?"

"Leave me alone," he responded.

Annalise was confused as to how he could suddenly sound so dejected. She couldn't have imagined the past five minutes when everything that she had known about her life was ripped apart. She hadn't imagined being chased up the stairs and into the guest bathroom by the guy she had thought was her adorably sweet boyfriend. She hadn't imagined cowering against the bathtub while he beat at the door like a pack of hungry wolves. She hadn't just imagined that had she?

No. It had been real, very real! But why was Malcolm crying? What could he possibly have to cry about after what he did?

"This isn't funny, Mal," Annalise shot back. "Why are you doing this?"

"Leave me alone!" Malcolm's scream seemed closer to the maddened tone he had been using earlier. "I'm not crazy the crazy one..."

"Then what do you call all this? What do you call stabbing me with a fork?!" Annalise returned, her eyes glancing over the four puncture marks on the top of her hand. She balled up her hands and leaned her head against the door. Her eyes watered as she recalled the moment Malcolm leapt from the table and charged at her. His coal eyes were angry but distant. "Why are you doing this to me?"

"You're the one who is doing this!" Malcolm's voice was suddenly closer. Annalise nervously backed away from the door.

"I didn't do anything," she replied.

"Are you joking?" Malcolm went on. Hurt had replaced the anger in his voice again. "You're joking...? Do you really not know?"

Annalise stopped her retreat. "Know what?"

She heard his footsteps stop short of the door. "Annalise, why do you think you haven't heard from Sawyer since Monday? Why do you think that is?"

Sawyer Stevens, the senior who had made every day a living hell for Annalise, hadn't been seen since the weekend. The girls in her clique all seemed to think she was skipping midterms to be with her college boyfriend. It was stupid and selfish, everything that Sawyer was. But the sudden jump in Malcolm's tone made her question whether the other girls were right.

"Sawyer's probably still with Brent," she replied. "She's been at Georgetown since Saturday."

"Has she?"

Malcolm's reply sent a cold streak up her spine. "What did you do, Mal?"

Part 2

I'm almost done with the last few chapters of Fallen.

I feel like I've said this out loud a dozen times already, but it is actually true. These last couple of months have been the toughest in regards to writing. And it's not because of the story itself - that actually comes very clearly most times. Instead, I find that there are a multitude of little things that keep eating away at my time and energy, one of which is my day job.

Yes, being an independent author is in itself a tough job, but because of the unexpected nature of projects and book sales it is also one that I tend to have view as secondary to my "9-5". Ideally, this will change one day when "The Colossal Series" or any of my future works grow in reach, but for now it's a little frustrating.

While my job is the reason for most of slow progress, the other things affecting my writing are much more positive, for instance - my son.

I have found myself reading my son 5-7 books a night - which is great! At nearly 18 months he has a thirst for words and is plowing through the "classics" such as "Brown Bear, Brown Bear", "I Say, You Say Opposites", and "The Very Hungry Caterpillar". Now if this is what keeps me from finishing the first draft of Book 3 this week, then "Fallen" be damned!

Lennox McCaskill

Hello all, I just wanted to share the news that https://www.lennoxmccaskill.com is now up and running!

Check it out

30 Days
6 Chapters
60+ Pages
18,000+ Words
1/5 of "Fallen" Written
1 High-Five to #NaNoWriMo2016

So I've been working on "Fallen" during NaNoWriMo and am happy to say that I've got a great flow going.

Unlike "Colossal" and "Afflictions", the 3rd installment of "The Colossal Series" is seemingly coming easier.

I'm already over 14,000 words and pushing 6 chapters.

Here's hoping that I can keep this up through 2016.