By The Light released today :)
By The light is live today (November 12th) on Amazon, Apple, Kobo, and B&N!
By The Light
Stories of sirens, tales of ghosts. Pirate gold on islands afar and spirits united in rusted cars. Dreaming dogs, lovestruck teenagers, and the devil’s hand in the onset of war. Stories spanning good and evil. Complete. Concise. Different. Diverse.
Here's a sample of the first story. Hope you enjoy it :)
SISTERS
The roll and the heave, the swell of the sea. It’s been a master to me for near forty years. From waters mild as an innocent child with the guide of a father at the tiller of a sloop, to years disappeared across oceans and seas, all masts square rigged and a captain’s command.
Sights I’ve seen make a grown man cower. Serpents and monsters, I’ve fought with a spear, my heart in my mouth and my life held dear.
But naught takes a stomach like the roll of a ship. Waves breaking high and showering down. The sky filled with sea and the sea all around, the whip of the wind a thorny crown to the torment of souls who stepped off the land.
I’d seen it all, I thought.
Until that night.
On a black open ocean n’ere an island in sight, foam crested combers lit by moonlight, breaking soft on bow, gentle and smooth, passing deck and mast and men’s eyes on watch, till they left by the stern, easy and clean, their kiss a-promised on far golden sands.
’Twas that night that raised us in fright, the call of the helmsman rose us alright, screaming and howling, an animal chained, words taken from him and that look in his eye, a thousand-yard stare taken many miles further, his sanity plundered and slain in plain sight.
The men brigged him down as he begged our forgiveness, pleading for liberty, a trembling husk, mumbling sounds and confusing his words.
He’d fallen asleep, his hands on the helm, minutes or hours, he couldn’t tell now, but they’d passed by his eyes without being seen.
Out stretched his arm and from his throat came a sound, whispered and breathed, deep and low down, “There is the ocean, but where is the land?”
We made for the maps and laid them out even, we studied and stared, drawing lines as we dared, marking land men had seen till we’d crept into night.
But there on the map were madness all right, I stared and I wondered and smoothed out the creases, laying flat the world’s curve with the brush of my fingers. For dancing and twisting with glee and delight, in script curled and fine and hidden in night, were words to stop hearts and leave ice in a vein.
Here be monsters, they said to my eyes and my ears. Here be monsters, they said to my muscles and mind. Here be monsters, they said to my spirit and soul.
Here be monsters, I said to the men all around. Here be monsters, they whispered, from the top deck on down, till all the crew knew, on that terrible night that the clock of their life had ticked one to the right, aging them fast from deep in their hearts, claiming their youth in a one-sided fight.
The wind whipped us by, bringing cloud to the sky, casting stars and comets with a pasty pale glow, and the crystal-clear moon with a deathly white gloom of no comfort to man.
Nor me.
To the helm I took and turned it around, wheeling it hard as the ship it did judder, wood fighting water, twisting the rudder.
The compass swung, the needle it moved, spinning east into west as we turned tail and ran, fast as we could, fast as we dared, a hard-tacking zigzag with the will of all men.
But the words on the map trampled our path, twisting and morphing ahead of our ship, casting peril with abandon on our shelter at sea, jaunty and taunting and filled with glee.
The wind brought gales and the gales brought storms, thick and heavy and moving the ocean, driving bow from the water and lifting the stern.
Three days we pitched and three days we rolled, the cargo adrift in below deck holds, the rough-hewn timber straining bolt and lash, and sails full square testing rigging and mast, the hands ne’er daring to step on deck, and the crow’s nest left empty save the cry of a gull.
And what of that sound, deep underground, a noise from the earth and water below, inhuman and cold and rising in tone, the crushing of stone and a-rending of steel, rocks as if grinding under the keel?
Three days I suffered, roped to the helm, my hands on the wheel and my muscles spent, with salt stung eyes roaming darkness unknown, willing the ship on, my crew to deliver, till the wheel it tingled the grip of my skin, the flow of electricity deep within, spinning the world, moving time as it chose, and ’fore it were over, a fine ocean breeze, a kiss on my face, fresh and scented, the tang of the sea, and there in the distance the horizon all plain.
’Twere heaven on earth and earth on sea as gulls slipped the rigging to a lonely pale cry and terns drifted lazy, high in the sky, riding thermals to places beyond a man’s eye.
What of this miracle were we to make? Where were the gray walls of hurricane storms, untouchable mountains reaching to space?
’Twas then we heard it, a distant sound, breath beyond earshot and wrapped all around, melodies and chimes, a chorus grand, swelling crescendos of rhythms and bells.
With gimlet eyes, the men of the nest combed sea and sky for minstrels playing, yet their wretched reward from stem to stern was the silkiest of sea and a heaven too blue with white-hearted clouds meandering by.
But the sound it grew, caressing the air, blessing the ears of all those who heard, joy and hope and warmth and yearning, hearts tending spirits deprived of love, brushing souls free of earthly concerns and melting away the weight of all life.
And the joy took a form out of the sea, rising up with sweet curves and innocent smiles, lustrous hair and eyes imploring, tugging at heartstrings with love and desire, the truth of fiction hanging in air, a female form adorning the sky.
One became many as the crew stood in wonder, and hearts reached out in heady embrace, arms met arms and intertwined fingers, and men floated free to angelic voices.
Each was lifted, by body and soul, trailing in air with sun and sea breeze, a sailor’s last sail of fanciful dreams, a goodbye most real as the surface they broke, gliding down to waters deep and cool.
Alone they left me, they did not touch, smiling and waving, kindness and heart, hair dancing on breeze and perfect at once, tails swirling in water or gliding cross deck, or floating in air and waving around, their treasure a-taken, deep on down, unfathomable fathoms from air’s sweet embrace, the depths of undead sleeping sound and safe.
Onward I sailed, my deed understood, past mirror smooth ocean and tumbling sea, onward I travelled my purpose revealed, my duty and calling leading the prow.
To harbor and port my compass settled, crossing the seas all smiling and kindness, offering fair trade to men of true purpose.
For I’m one with them now, twixt air and water, sailing for sisters deep in the ocean. We meet and we greet and we share a short while, till awash with contentment they lead the crews down, hand holding hand to a trident’s land.
So fear not your fortune when you step off the dock. Keep meek in your heart and courage in your throat. For what lies beneath waves and cold open ocean is married to the breeze and the song of the sea.
And me.
Read on
Kindle: https://amzn.to/2TRLwET
Apple: https://books.apple.com/us/book/by-th...
Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/by-t...
B&N: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/by-t...
Cheers!
Nigel
By The Light
Stories of sirens, tales of ghosts. Pirate gold on islands afar and spirits united in rusted cars. Dreaming dogs, lovestruck teenagers, and the devil’s hand in the onset of war. Stories spanning good and evil. Complete. Concise. Different. Diverse.
Here's a sample of the first story. Hope you enjoy it :)
SISTERS
The roll and the heave, the swell of the sea. It’s been a master to me for near forty years. From waters mild as an innocent child with the guide of a father at the tiller of a sloop, to years disappeared across oceans and seas, all masts square rigged and a captain’s command.
Sights I’ve seen make a grown man cower. Serpents and monsters, I’ve fought with a spear, my heart in my mouth and my life held dear.
But naught takes a stomach like the roll of a ship. Waves breaking high and showering down. The sky filled with sea and the sea all around, the whip of the wind a thorny crown to the torment of souls who stepped off the land.
I’d seen it all, I thought.
Until that night.
On a black open ocean n’ere an island in sight, foam crested combers lit by moonlight, breaking soft on bow, gentle and smooth, passing deck and mast and men’s eyes on watch, till they left by the stern, easy and clean, their kiss a-promised on far golden sands.
’Twas that night that raised us in fright, the call of the helmsman rose us alright, screaming and howling, an animal chained, words taken from him and that look in his eye, a thousand-yard stare taken many miles further, his sanity plundered and slain in plain sight.
The men brigged him down as he begged our forgiveness, pleading for liberty, a trembling husk, mumbling sounds and confusing his words.
He’d fallen asleep, his hands on the helm, minutes or hours, he couldn’t tell now, but they’d passed by his eyes without being seen.
Out stretched his arm and from his throat came a sound, whispered and breathed, deep and low down, “There is the ocean, but where is the land?”
We made for the maps and laid them out even, we studied and stared, drawing lines as we dared, marking land men had seen till we’d crept into night.
But there on the map were madness all right, I stared and I wondered and smoothed out the creases, laying flat the world’s curve with the brush of my fingers. For dancing and twisting with glee and delight, in script curled and fine and hidden in night, were words to stop hearts and leave ice in a vein.
Here be monsters, they said to my eyes and my ears. Here be monsters, they said to my muscles and mind. Here be monsters, they said to my spirit and soul.
Here be monsters, I said to the men all around. Here be monsters, they whispered, from the top deck on down, till all the crew knew, on that terrible night that the clock of their life had ticked one to the right, aging them fast from deep in their hearts, claiming their youth in a one-sided fight.
The wind whipped us by, bringing cloud to the sky, casting stars and comets with a pasty pale glow, and the crystal-clear moon with a deathly white gloom of no comfort to man.
Nor me.
To the helm I took and turned it around, wheeling it hard as the ship it did judder, wood fighting water, twisting the rudder.
The compass swung, the needle it moved, spinning east into west as we turned tail and ran, fast as we could, fast as we dared, a hard-tacking zigzag with the will of all men.
But the words on the map trampled our path, twisting and morphing ahead of our ship, casting peril with abandon on our shelter at sea, jaunty and taunting and filled with glee.
The wind brought gales and the gales brought storms, thick and heavy and moving the ocean, driving bow from the water and lifting the stern.
Three days we pitched and three days we rolled, the cargo adrift in below deck holds, the rough-hewn timber straining bolt and lash, and sails full square testing rigging and mast, the hands ne’er daring to step on deck, and the crow’s nest left empty save the cry of a gull.
And what of that sound, deep underground, a noise from the earth and water below, inhuman and cold and rising in tone, the crushing of stone and a-rending of steel, rocks as if grinding under the keel?
Three days I suffered, roped to the helm, my hands on the wheel and my muscles spent, with salt stung eyes roaming darkness unknown, willing the ship on, my crew to deliver, till the wheel it tingled the grip of my skin, the flow of electricity deep within, spinning the world, moving time as it chose, and ’fore it were over, a fine ocean breeze, a kiss on my face, fresh and scented, the tang of the sea, and there in the distance the horizon all plain.
’Twere heaven on earth and earth on sea as gulls slipped the rigging to a lonely pale cry and terns drifted lazy, high in the sky, riding thermals to places beyond a man’s eye.
What of this miracle were we to make? Where were the gray walls of hurricane storms, untouchable mountains reaching to space?
’Twas then we heard it, a distant sound, breath beyond earshot and wrapped all around, melodies and chimes, a chorus grand, swelling crescendos of rhythms and bells.
With gimlet eyes, the men of the nest combed sea and sky for minstrels playing, yet their wretched reward from stem to stern was the silkiest of sea and a heaven too blue with white-hearted clouds meandering by.
But the sound it grew, caressing the air, blessing the ears of all those who heard, joy and hope and warmth and yearning, hearts tending spirits deprived of love, brushing souls free of earthly concerns and melting away the weight of all life.
And the joy took a form out of the sea, rising up with sweet curves and innocent smiles, lustrous hair and eyes imploring, tugging at heartstrings with love and desire, the truth of fiction hanging in air, a female form adorning the sky.
One became many as the crew stood in wonder, and hearts reached out in heady embrace, arms met arms and intertwined fingers, and men floated free to angelic voices.
Each was lifted, by body and soul, trailing in air with sun and sea breeze, a sailor’s last sail of fanciful dreams, a goodbye most real as the surface they broke, gliding down to waters deep and cool.
Alone they left me, they did not touch, smiling and waving, kindness and heart, hair dancing on breeze and perfect at once, tails swirling in water or gliding cross deck, or floating in air and waving around, their treasure a-taken, deep on down, unfathomable fathoms from air’s sweet embrace, the depths of undead sleeping sound and safe.
Onward I sailed, my deed understood, past mirror smooth ocean and tumbling sea, onward I travelled my purpose revealed, my duty and calling leading the prow.
To harbor and port my compass settled, crossing the seas all smiling and kindness, offering fair trade to men of true purpose.
For I’m one with them now, twixt air and water, sailing for sisters deep in the ocean. We meet and we greet and we share a short while, till awash with contentment they lead the crews down, hand holding hand to a trident’s land.
So fear not your fortune when you step off the dock. Keep meek in your heart and courage in your throat. For what lies beneath waves and cold open ocean is married to the breeze and the song of the sea.
And me.
Read on
Kindle: https://amzn.to/2TRLwET
Apple: https://books.apple.com/us/book/by-th...
Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/by-t...
B&N: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/by-t...
Cheers!
Nigel
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