Purge...

My photo
Diagnosed with epilepsy at the age of eleven T L Spencer turned to writing as a way to cope with her condition. Her vivid imagination and love of all things paranormal influenced her writing. T L Spencer enjoys all forms of literature and is currently studying at university, hoping to become a teacher.

Saturday, 22 December 2012

How to train your Dragon...

"Trolls exist! They steal your socks! "...

Maybe that is where all the odd socks are! ;)

The Persian Soap Sud: In Loving Memory

In Loving Memory of our dear feline Bubbles...

A grey mass of fur she stalked the garden,
Hiding beneath the trees,
Waiting for birds and enemy cats
That dared to cross her path.

Assortment of treats waited on the kitchen side
As she squished her tail in the water bowl.
With fussy eating habits Persian prerogative
Was to pester and torment.

She slept soundly by the glow of the fire,
Her tail too close to the flames.
Bubbles rested and dreamt of mice and of birds
As Nanna watched nearby on the chair.

She went her own way as many cats do,
Avoiding outstretched arms.
But she was always there to give you comfort
With loud and echoing purrs.

Though gone from our world, in our hearts Bubbles shall always remain.
May she be at peace xxx


Friday, 21 December 2012

Mystery

Here are the two most mysterious characters of Blood Prophecy: The Fated Three...  


Raphael: The Angel
The First Vampire



Magical Maidens

All characters need a little help at some point. Here are some pictures that helped me visualise my protagonists!
The magic of the Enchantresses!
 
 

Thursday, 20 December 2012

Have a Disney Christmas!

With Christmas only FIVE sleeps away, it's time to break out all the Disney films you own. So, here I am counting my top ten!

TEN: Snow White and the Seven Dwarves


No Disney top ten can be anything without the Snow White, the first full length animated feature. Adapted from Grimm's tales, it is an adventure of magic, dwarves, evil step-mothers and a truly handsome prince.

NINE: The Hunchback of Notre Dame


A novel I have read only once, and immensely enjoyed, this film is a Disney retelling. The famous words within the first song 'who is the monster and who is the man' really makes an impact. The love triangle is deeply touching and the characterisation is superb.

EIGHT: Hercules



Hercules, though altered from the Greek myth, is a great addition to my top ten. I love Greek mythology and as a child, when my interest was evlving, I watched this over and over again. The creatures fascinated (and disgusted) me; they still do! The film is enjoyable for all ages and once again, the side-kicks and secondary characters take centre stage. Pain and Panic are hilariously funny, with Pegasus and Hermes coming a close second. The three fates are also really cool - though albeit really creepy.

SEVEN: Pocahontas


The historical figure gets her own place in my top ten with this brilliant action packed, freedom fighting adventure. Not be out done by the men, Pocahontas can run, climb and swim as well as any man; she is fierce, independent, intelligent, curious and peace loving. With her many side-kicks, including the wise Old Mother Willow, she goes on her own path.

SIX: Aladdin



Tigers, carpets and Genies, oh my! A wonderful story of triumph over adversity with that all so cautionary tale of 'be careful what you wish for'. The idea that who you are is much much more imprtant than what you are really comes through in this film, with poor Aladdin, the street kid, being the kindest of them all and power-hungry (not to mention very rich)  Jafar being the evil character. Thumbs up to the talking parrot :)


FIVE: Robin Hood


Such a fun film with some brilliant music. The rooster at the beginning, who remains to narrate the story? A stroke of genius. The fact that Robin is a wily fox? Funny. And Prince John as the spoilt and cowardly lion... Excellent! One of the best adaptations of the story.

FOUR: Sleeping Beauty



Grimm's fairy tale retold, Sleeping Beauty is a magical film. With evil witches and three squabbling old magical helpers who can't cook flying around, who needs any other form of entertainment? Not only this, you have the damsel and handsome prince.


BRONZE: Tangled
 


Tangled, a retelling of Rapunzel, is a fun and light hearted film. There is enough humour to keep us so called adults interested and it's childish enough for the kids. The characters are incredible and the reason why the film takes the Bronze medal. Maximus, the hound-like horse is simply superb and the bitchy step-mother is so evil, it's almost funny.

SILVER: Beauty and the Beast


Belle, the sacrificial lamb, gives up her freedome in order to rescue her father. She stays with a cursed Prince and instead of being the damsel in distress, takes one for the team and saves the day!

GOLD: The Lion King



This was my favourite film as a child, and even now it fills me with glee. Watching Simba and his friends kick some Scar and Hyena butt is very satisfying and with Timone and Pumba as side-kicks, Nala not far behind, where can the film go wrong?

Have yourself a merry Disney Christmas! What are your favourites?
Let me know!

Monday, 17 December 2012

Snow Dance

There appears to be a distinct lack of snow here in the north of England. I will be forced to do a snow dance.

As embarrassing as the concept may sound, it is actually rather fun and I encourage everyone to do the following:

1. Find some ice-cubes
2. Take several ice-cubes and stand infront of the toilet
3. Drop the ice-cube down the toilet
4.While the ice melts, chant 'Snow, Snow, Snow' as you spin round in circles.

It's really fun and keeps you entertained for ages. Yes, you may feel like a complete nitwit while your doing it but if no one's home, there'll be no one there to see you!

Happy snow dancing,
And a Merry Christmas!

The Enchantresses of Blood Prophecy: The Fated Three

Selene Giovanni: The first enchantress. Half angel, half vampire. She can control all elements and can read souls. Soul-mate to Gregori.

Aynia O’Connor: The second enchantress. Can see the dead and dying, is clairsentient and specialises in weaponry. She is the only enchantress that has the power of biokinesis. Soul-mate to Sariel.

Lalinn Crenshaw: The third enchantress. She is a seer and has an affinity with animals. Soul-mate to Dmitri.
All three are bound together...
Prophecy, The: Made at the beginning of time, it foretells of three women who will save the world from evil. It is guarded by the Angel Raphael.

Friday, 14 December 2012

Blood Prophecy:The Fated Three on Sale Now!

Available to Amazon Kindle, Nook, Apple iBooks, Kobo and many more devices, my eBook is now available for download and priced: US $5.99 / GB £3.75 / EU €4.65 (RRP).

A novel full of magic, love, vampires and betrayal, Blood Prophecy: The Fated Three follows three young women bound together by fate plunged into a world of mystery and excitement, as a centuries-old prophecy begins to come true.

Take a gander at Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/authortlspencer
Or have a peek at Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/TLSpencer

Once you've read my book, give your view! Contact me at:
t-lspencer@hotmail.co.uk  and then review my book! I love feedback.

For more information, please visit: www.apostrophebooks.com/bloodprophecy.



Thursday, 15 November 2012

Blood Prophecy

Wow, I can't believe it! After two years of fighting with myself, I not only finish my novel but it's being published!  At the end of October, I was lucky enough to win the hearts of many voters for the Fiction Fast-Track competition for Apostrophe Books and will now have my trilogy, Blood Prophecy, published as an ebook! I am really excited and quite overwhelmed by the experience.

As a first time writer, it's absolutely amazing and because I was ill when I began writing this novel, the achievement for me, is even greater. A novel about destiny, magic and love, I hope my novel will entertain and enthrall anyone who reads it. I will keep everyone updated as to when it is available and include a short synopsis at a later date x

Keep talking and keep writing! ;)
    


Wednesday, 31 October 2012

Apostrophe Books

This months competition has come to a close and I anxiously await the results. Fingers crossed and happy Halloween to all!

Monday, 22 October 2012

The Handmaid’s Tale: A New Perspective, Serena Joy


We stood face to face for the first time five weeks ago, when she dutifully arrived at this posting. On that day the handmaid was permitted to come to the front door. I decided to wait behind it, to see what little I could of her before she was presented to me. One of the precious freedoms left even for those like myself. She appeared as a red shadow, her image warped by the stained glass. A shadow, an object, a vessel - the handmaid’s duty. It is a bitter and gloomy thought.

I wish I could be different, but time and experience has ruined me. I gazed at the door, its varnished wooden frame peeling away, revealing the rings hidden for centuries, showing the age concealed beneath. The smell of stale perfume, the old furniture, having been used by many lords and ladies at grand balls and parties, the images of butlers in black suits and white gloves remain encrusted in time. The old grandeur died years ago but lingers still in the air.

My thoughts were interrupted by a figure, one of the Aunts. I had heard the expression on the Black-market. They use it as a means of making vitriolic and vindictive cows appear as benign and gentle beings. Of course, it never works, they rarely succeed. This doesn’t shock me really, with their electric cattle prods slung around their wastes. Perception is something difficult to master – one must be perceived in the right light. ‘Aunts’ are not. The bell had tolled for me. I opened the door, the beam of sunlight, shining like a spotlight. It mocked me, wanted me to sing, a merriment forbidden to anyone within our walls.

 I glanced at the handmaid. So you’re the new one, I said. She nodded. I took a moment to breathe the fresh air and take in that all too familiar view of those ridiculous uniforms meant to keep them safe. A prison of blood, a shroud covering the body, staining and numbing the mind. Straightjackets can perform the same task just as easily. The old one wore hers, something she couldn’t escape from. Not until darkness fell. After she left we had to clean up the mess, remove furniture. I told the new one to come in and shut the door behind her. I knew she would do as I asked and naturally follow me into the sitting room.

The chair, the foot stool, the crystal lamp. The window plain and austere relieved only by a vibrant red rose stained on the middle pane. Two curtains, red and gold. They were heavy and musty with age and neglect, their tassels moth eaten. A pillow rested on the chair. It belonged to my Grandmother, a piece of heritage that clings on to life but not the living. The chair itself stood in the centre, its colour faded by the Sun. My way to be seen while remaining out of sight.

Sitting on my chair, I gazed at the new Handmaid. Though her face was hidden, I could see her. Knowledge is power here, it signifies control. I knew what she was thinking, assessing if I would be a kind or miserable mistress. They all do at first. She should have known better, it’s healthier and safer for them to accept what is and not dwell on other things. One is only destined for disappointment and punishment if one thinks of freedom.

An array of light shone through the room, the light of the sun shooting rainbows off the diamond on my finger. A thousand spotlights glittered around us, it brought back the music. That was how we met, my husband and I as once again, my eyes were drawn to my studded finger. He makes me do them. Interview each new one just in case they are ‘one of them’ he says. I once asked why. A mistake I shall never make again, the cane a reminder.

I lit the cigarette and detected a sigh of pure longing from the Handmaid. She, of course, like the rest of them, was not allowed anything that could damage her health, or the chances. The Black-market has many things available for the desperate and longing few. There would have been nothing for her there though, she had nothing to exchange. Not without sacrifice. I slowly exhaled, mentioning that old what’s his face didn’t work out. I couldn’t say I was surprised, he never did accomplish anything.

She told me it was her third posting. Unlucky for her. I coughed at the melancholy tone; she gave too much away poor thing. I told her to sit down. Usually I’d make them suffer, Handmaids only cause pain, dredging memories and the loss of femininity from the dark tunnels of my mind. But she reminded me of a blood clot. Something that works its way around the body, until it finds the heart, destroying the beauty of creation.

Don’t call me Ma’am, I said. She is not a maid. Not of that kind anyway. The old one called me Ma’am. I will miss her. She did her job, was quiet, unobtrusive – invisible. Despite the bloody straightjacket.

The new one didn’t know, would never know. She would be here for the duration – an indefinite prison sentence in a penitentiary of hell. He, after all, my husband, is not a man. Not an Adam. He can hunt but not produce. There will be no paradise for her.

Monday, 3 September 2012

Rat in a Pet Shop


Will that infernal macaw ever shut up, I think, as I look through the horizontal bars of the cage. He always makes such a racket.  I thought that he had been sold but obviously I was wrong. I can’t say I blame them. Who would want a gobby parrot with a feather problem?

Today is the day. Today I will say goodbye to this 8 by 12 box and say hello to paradise. Tonight, I will be in a big house with warm, fuzzy saw dust, yummy food and blissfully cool water. I just have to be good, advertise myself, curl my tail like a good little rat and run on my wheel for all the little humans – even if they smell funny.

A shop keeper refreshes my water; about time too! It’s been warm and between you, me and the rat post, it was starting to smell. And it had green stuff in it! The woman drops a treat in my cage and I eat it gladly, taking a peek at my neighbours.

To my right are the albino mice. Odd creatures if truth be told – their eyes are creepy – I can never tell where they’re looking. They hardly make any noise so I can’t say I’m overly fussed. The left neighbours are altogether different. As the constant hum of the AC isn’t enough (not forgetting that parrot) I have to deal with the chipmunks! Yes! A giant cage filled with squeaky, stripy, hyper chipmunks! If I could roll my eyes, I would believe me. I look across the way and see (surprise, surprise) more cages. Hamsters.  A little grey one is huddled up in its straw bed, hardly visible. It’s trying to sleep, I get that, but really? How can it be so dense? It’s never going to get out of here like that. My whiskers shake in irritation – sleeping, how ridiculous.

A sudden smell has me recoiling, running into my little hut at the back of the cage. A dangerous  scent has hit the air: cold, hard, predatory. A young man walks down the aisle with a grin on his face, holding up a glass box. I shiver in my black and white coat, my tail trembles. My whiskers quiver and I can feel my nose wrinkle at the horror. A snake. Every rodent hides away until the danger passes and the fun begins. Why bring a snake down here? Imagine if it broke free – caged little happy meals just ripe for the picking! A couple enters with two little ones and I push the scaly thoughts aside. They rush to our cages and it’s my chance to show off.

I do my best, I run on my wheel, I do funny tricks with my tail and they watch with smiles. In my own way, I am screaming “Pick me, pick me!” And it seems to be working. But no. They don’t want a native pet. An animal whose name they can actually pronounce. No, they want a fancy, all singing, all dancing exotic pet from Chile, or wherever it is that Degus come from.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a racist rodent. I adore my cousins big and small. I just want to be loved. And if we’re honest, what makes an ‘exotic’ pet so bloody special anyway? And it is not just one that they buy! They take two! They’re taken out their cages without much effort and placed in a carrier. I’d congratulate them both if they didn’t look so smug. I can hear them now, with those smarmy accents, “Adios amigos!” Disgusting.

Am I doomed to remain a pet shop rat forever?

I go to bed, feeling gloomy and forlorn and make little effort to look cute when people come to peer in my cage. What is the point? Still, as it reaches closing time and a birthday boy runs in, I can’t help but lift my head. The boy wants a rat. What can it hurt, I think? My tail twitches and I head to my wheel. One last go for old time’s sake.

He runs straight to my cage and jumps with excitement. This is it! This boy is the answer, my ticket to a new home! Minutes later, as I’m taken out those weird sliding doors at the front of the shop, I look back at all my exotic cousins. “Cheerio,” I think. They really aren’t so bad after all.

A Whisper In His Ear


Rain pelted against the windows as a heavy storm raged on outdoors but inside, in the darkness of his normal home, a different kind of storm was brewing. He was wide awake and burning. Every cell in his body was screaming at him. What should he do? Should he listen? Should he ignore? He had to decide soon, his body was on fire. 
He knew instinctively that there was only one way to quench it. Her: she could extinguish the flames, sooth his racing heart, cool his burning body. But she was the reason he was hot in the first place, plaguing him, his thoughts, continually… Especially at night; she was lethal at night.
Something stirred in the air. She had returned.
The infernal siren that kept him awake night after merciless night: praying for rest, praying for mercy, praying for release. It was always the same. The same time, the same place, the same voice… the same husky, impossible requests. It was driving him mad.
She returned in the usual manner, a soft sigh, a whisper, breathed light into his ear followed by a deep and breathy moan. The sounds of promised pleasure; pleasure he was doomed never to receive. Not until he granted her wishes. He wanted to hold out, deny her further, build up the longing, break her down… but he couldn’t. He was running out of patience. He wanted it.
When she came to him fully, emerging from the shadows, he could almost taste her, the sweetness of her skin, and the salty tang of her tears.  He could smell her scent through his nostrils. He took a deep breath, savouring the deep scent of perfume and musk, the heat of feminine arousal. His mouth watered at her use of feminine wiles – pretending to be guarded with her affections. He knew she wanted it. Just as much as he did.
He could see her clearly now, her outline no longer blurred by the darkened corners of the room. She was a wild mermaid, a heavenly siren in reckless abandon. She beckoned him closer with her eyes, they were almost pleading. Her hands were high above her head, her back arched by the position. She wanted him to worship her.
As always, she was unclothed, her perfect satin skin visible and available. He could touch her now. No one could come between them. He stepped closer to her, holding out his hand. Her eyes closed in rapturous sensation as his hand drifted to her breast. He touched and she gasped.
The whispering started again.
In biting moans of need, his siren panted. “Release me, and I will give you whatever you want. Anything at all, I swear. Just release me.” His ears rang with the needy plea.
“Leave me alone, siren. I can’t think when you’re whispering at me!”
“Release… Release me… I beg you…” Another whisper… he ignored it. Would he ever get any peace?
Something rattled and it drew his attention… That’s right, he thought, the chains. No wonder she can’t move. A grin split across his face and he remembered why his siren was here with him. She had said ‘no’ to him. After months together, she had said ‘no’.
“Release… Release me… I beg you… Please, I’m sorry. I’ll do whatever you want. Just let me go… Please!” She begged and she cried and he watched. But he had made up his mind.
What he wanted, what she wanted, could wait.
“No.” He looked down at the siren, her eyes wide in shock. “You put me through hell for months. The least I can do is put you through the same.”
He turned from her and strode away. The whispering had stopped. For one night at least.

Wednesday, 25 July 2012

Note to Self

A gentle reminder to all those basking in the wonderful warmth of the shocking English sunshine:
please remember to protect your skin!

Unfortunately, I learned this the hard way. After spending a fun day in the sunshine (stupidly forgetting the sunscreen) I came home and looked at my reflection to see a tall (and somewhat stripy) looking human being. In all honesty, I resembled - and still do - a cherry with a golden wig of hair.

Sunburn is extremely painful, and because of my stupidity, I have been told to sufferin silence. So, here I sit, armed with after sun, ice packs, calomine lotion and paracetemol, just waiting for the skin to strt healing and peeling...

Ouch!

Thursday, 12 July 2012

St Andrew's Church, Redbourne, Lincolnshire

In an attempt to kill a few hours before an appointment later in the afternoon, father and I went for a drive in the countryside. Fifteen minutes from Brigg, we came upon a pretty little place called Redbourne where, cosied up in a quiet corner, stood the prettiest church which dated back to the 13th century.
The immensely tall tower is the first thing that attracts the attention. In fact, on first sight, it looks like a building all on its own. However, on closer inspection, the overhanging trees reveal a magnificent mediaeval church.
When entering the church, one is drawn to the intricate glass windows, vibrantly stained with the apostles. The colours are just indescribable, so incredibly vivid. The most striking stained glass however, and perhaps the most striking feature of the church itself, is the east window designed by Francis Danby and executed by William Collins in 1832; enamelled glass depicting the opening of the sixth seal (Revelation, Chapter VI). It is a vivid rendition of the Day of Judgment, a darkened sun, a bloodied moon, the fires of hell and lightning from heaven.
There are other points of interest. If one is brave enough (unafraid of small cramped spaces and dark unknowns) the bell tower is the perfect place to visit. The six bells cast by Henry Harrrison in 1774 are wonderful to view and without a bat in sight!
These are the stairs - very narrow and very steep.
Back in the light and onto firmer ground, there is a monument on the northside of the church dedicated to Sir Gerard Sothill, complete with latin inscription. As well as this, there are several 18th and 19th century tablets, dedicated to the lords and ladies of the areas, some with very comical inscriptions, the best and most delightful being the one to a woman named Charlotte, wife of Robert Carter Thelwall. After mourning her passing (1780) and extolling her virtues, expressing the dearest wish to be beside her, his own death is recorded (1787). So far it all sounds lovely... but underneath, as if in an afterthought is written: He was again made happy in a second marriage to Hannah Spooner. Brilliant!
Overall, it was a wonderful visit and not only did it kill the hours but it was an educational experience that I would to love repeat.





Friday, 13 April 2012

CHOCOLATE

Good afternoon to all...

Was Easter fun or what? How much chocolate do you suppose is healthy for one person to consume? Is it healthy to eat just one type of chocolate? I don't think so...
To ensure my health and saftey, I forced myself to partake in the constant guzzling of basically every kind of chocolate in sight. I ate dark chocolate, white chocolate, milk chocolate and pralines and caramels and marsh mallows and every good thing that chocolate is. Yum Yum Yum!!!
Chocolate is the key to happiness. It releases happy hormones...
If everyone were to partake of chocolate consumption, the world would be a happier place!
Unless of course you were to seal my chocolate.... then there would be war!

Monday, 2 April 2012

Epilepsy

I was diagnosed with epilepsy at eleven, and have been on medication since. However, instead of feeling sorry for myself, I wish to set an example and help motivate others with the condition. I am at university, I have a life and I'm writing... in short I am doing what I always dreamed of. Just because I'm different, it doesn't necessarily have to be a bad thing. Having epilepsy has made me a stronger person and allowed me to focus on what is really important.
Don't let life pass you by, live it to the full, with love and laughter!
CARPE DIEM x

Friday, 20 January 2012

Cuddles

In loving memory of one of the cutest cats...

Warm and rested by the fire,
Dark with aubern, her thick fur glowed.
Her presense calm in quiet slumber
Watching embers fade.
Those she loved around her always,
Laughing at her chatter.
Small but large were her demands,
Cute and inane banter.
In the dark her green eyes glistened,
Pierced into the soul.
She never like the policeman coming,
Hissing from the bed.
Her footbaall skills unparallelled,
Despite her timid nature
She always gave it all she had,
The ball did not escape her.
Sleeping curled on daddy's lap,
Resting with eyes closed
No one would disturb her there,
Just watched her dream and doze.
Gone from the world to a better place
Where there is no pain,
Only happiness and joy,
She waits to see you again.


To Cuddles, the persian. May you forever play in fields and catch mice.
xxx

Saturday, 14 January 2012

Belladonna

Lucretius told us, “What is food to one, is to others bitter poison.” Dating as far back as to when the first spiritual and mythical beliefs were said to have been recorded, poisons have been used effectively for centuries. Our ancestors not only knew and respected the power that various plants possessed but learned wisely to use the healing, fatal and pain relieving properties to their advantage.
One particular group of poisons is renowned for its painful yet rapid affects. The Solanaceae or Nightshade is one of the largest and most diverse plant families, also containing some of the most poisonous and hallucinogenic plants that have been discovered in human history. All plants in this family are toxic due to the compound found within it called tropane. Atropa Belladonna, Henbane, Mandrake and Jimsonweed are all well-known but mundane plants such as Potatoes, Tomatoes, Peppers and Tobacco are also members and just as poisonous if the leaves are taken internally. Symptoms occur within half an hour of ingestion and death often follows less than two days later.
Perhaps the most well-known poison of them all is Atropa Belladonna or the Deadly Nightshade. It derives its name from Atropos, one of the three fates; the fate which cut the thread of life. Her name, meaning ‘inevitable’ reflected her station as the death bringer for mortals.
Italian for ‘beautiful lady’, Belladonna was used by Venetian ladies as an eye drop. The atropine within the berries’ juices enlarged the pupils of the eyes making the women appear excited and more attractive. Hallucinations were often reported as a side effect of elongated use, often having fatal results.
Just three of the sweet-tasting, shiny black berries can be fatal to both adults and children. The deadliest parts of the plant are the roots followed by the stem, leaves and flowers. Though the berries are the least poisonous, they are the most dangerous as they are the most accessible part of the plant. When ingested, hyper excitement is the first and only reaction before a painful death less than an hour later.
Though commonly used for its notorious toxicity, Belladonna can be used externally as a medicine. Combined with chamomile it can be used on the skin to heal bruises and swelling. Atropine, a compound within Belladonna is used by the military as an antidote for nerve agents because of its fast-acting properties.

Interesting, huh?
There was an error in this gadget