Monday, 25 September 2017

Reviews ~ The Orah

The Orah
A time travel short story
by E. H. James




Liz wished she could go back and do it all again.
After all, it was Liz’s fault her mom was dead…or so she believed. Had Liz not delayed her, her mom never would have been killed by that car. And as the twentieth anniversary of her mother’s death came around, Liz could not help but wish it had been her instead. That is, until a gentlemen sits next to her on the park bench. He tells her his story, and she feels strangely compelled to tell him hers, but when he leaves her his pocket watch as a gift, she cannot believe what is happening. Only this isn’t just any watch, as she soon discovers, and she is pulled back in time.
Are events coincidental, even random? Or is there a perfectly timed symmetry yet to be lived? The possessor of the Orah is the only one to know.

5 Stars 
Powerful short story. ~ Danyca Russell

5 Stars
Very Poignant! ~ snscuster

4 Stars 
Beautiful ~ Rachael

5 Stars
I wasn't expecting the ending, and I doubt you will either. ~ Heart of a Philanthropist 

5 Stars
Leaves you wanting more. ~ nickindle

5 Stars
A touching tale. ~ Heather

4 Stars
A great read for those who love time travel or "Twilight Zone" fans. ~ Tia's Kindle Shelf


Sunday, 24 September 2017

5 Stars
The Orah
A time travel short story...

"James', holding a gracefully poised pen, has crafted a gentle story of a paranormal reunion that saved a woman's life."
~ The Literary Apothecary


For the full review go to

Thursday, 31 August 2017

Nicholas ~ Excerpt

Nicholas: Lost Innocence

Excerpt

The boy brushed the dirt from his forehead with the sleeve of his grey tweed coat. He shivered, his knickers barely reaching his knees. Hugging his teddy bear tightly, his chin trembled. A tear rolled down his cheek. “Mommy?”
His fingers throbbed, their tips bloodied, his fingernails broken.
He blinked up into the light of the streetlamp. Walking through the grass, he wove his way through the headstones and into the street.
A gentle breeze swept over his face. It was quiet, but for the leaves rustling overhead.
* * *
Jason Mills grinned and kissed his wife Diane.
She ran a finger down his cheek. Nestling her head on his shoulder, she smiled. Opening her eyes, she then gasped. “Jason!”
Jason directed his eyes to the road. There in its middle was a small boy clutching a teddy bear. He slammed on the brakes. The car stopped mere inches from where he stood.
She pressed a hand to her mouth. “Did we hit him?”
They both scrambled from the car and into the street.
The boy gazed up at them, in the glare of the headlights.
They both stared, and she looked down the road and into the neighboring yards. She kneeled before him and wiped the dirt from his face. “Sweetie? What are you doing out here? Where’s your mommy?”
He bowed his head, tears streaming down his cheeks.
“Oh, honey.” She took him in her arms and pulled him close. “It’s okay. We’ll help you find your mommy.” She lifted him into her arms.
“What are you doing?”
“We’re taking him to the police station, that’s what we’re doing. We can’t leave him out here.”
“What about his parents?”
She waved an arm at the empty street. “Do you see anyone?”
She carried him into the car and set him on her lap. He rested his head on her shoulder, and she ran her fingertips over his hair. “My, that’s such a handsome suit. Can you tell me your name?” He didn’t answer, and she lifted the back of his collar.
Jason got back behind the wheel. “Now what are you doing?”
“Parents usually sew their kid’s names into their clothes. You know that.”
The boy closed his eyes and fell to sleep.
“Poor thing. Must be exhausted.” She studied his clothes. “How did he get covered in dirt? And who puts their kid in shorts to dress up?”
Jason closed the door and pulled the car over. “I think they used to call those knickers.”
“Look at him. He looks as though he’s dressed for Sunday service, with his little shirt and tie. And what happened to his fingers? It looks as though he was clawing at something.” She sighed, resting back in her seat. “So how did you come to be out here, in the middle of the night?”
Turning back in the direction he came, Jason drove to the police station.



COMING SEPTEMBER 1 ~ NEW RELEASE FROM E. H. JAMES

Coming September 1
New Release from E. H. James

Nicholas
A Paranormal Novella



On a September night, in 1962, five-year-old Nicholas Starke finds himself alone on a street in Fairfield.

Confused and frightened, he is rescued by a kind couple. When that same couple adopts him, he is able to move on with his life…Only the people in the town of Fairfield won’t let him. And when met with angry and frightened stares, wherever he goes, his parents decide it best to move. But where can you go, when strange happenings follow your every move?

Will Nicholas hold on to what is left of his innocence, or will his brother’s influence be his downfall?

Thursday, 24 August 2017

Realms Excerpt

Realms of Darkness
A Collection of Three Short Stories

Excerpt
The Late Shift

Bill emptied the register and put the money in the safe. “You ready to go?”
“Yeah, just let me grab my coat and purse.”
Waiting, Bill held the door, as Sheila stepped through. He locked it behind him and waved. “Goodnight.” He sauntered off to his truck.
“Night.” Walking to the bus stop, she held her watch out at the street light. “Oh, great. I missed it. Won’t be another one for an hour.”
The street was empty. At night it became a whole other world, and at eleven on a Friday it was dead. She sat on the bench, tucking her hands into her coat pockets. “An hour to kill. In the dark. At eleven.” There wasn’t a car in sight, and every time she thought she heard one, she found herself turning to see if it was a white van.
“This is insane. Sitting here, alone, in the middle of the night. Could you be any more stupid? Well, it’s not like you have a choice. It’s this or walk the three miles. And either way you’re alone in the dark.” She stood. “At least you’ll be getting closer to home, if you walk.”
Slipping her purse strap up over her shoulder, she stepped away from the bench. Not all of the streets were as well lit as she would like, with long stretches of dark, obscured sidewalk. “But then that may just make it more difficult to be seen by a band of cultists, out to sew my mouth shut.” A crease formed between her brows. “A band? Do cults travel in bands? Stop it, Sheila, you’re being ridiculous.”
Random cars drove past, and every time she would check. “No white vans. For that matter, how do they even know for certain they use a white van anyway?” She shook her head.
“See, you’re already over half-way home. Won’t be much longer now. And then you can soak in a nice hot bath. Oh, man, that sounds good.” She crossed a side street and stepped up onto the sidewalk on the other side.
“Hey.”
She swung around. A car pulled up, the driver side window rolling down.