Long before I accidentally became a writer, when I was only a fiction-obsessed young woman in her 20s, I was infatuated by the settings in novels.

Reading was my only passion, other than day dreaming. I loved getting into the story, identifying myself with the protagonist and living that life. That made our connection “real”.

I went hungry on purpose, walked miles in the sun, sweat streaming down my neck in the hot and humid Indian summer at the risk of being thought “crazy” by friends. That was the Thomas Hardy phase, whose female leads were forever sad, lonely, lost and eternally suffered when their physical and emotional worlds clashed and collapsed at the whims of fate or men they loved.

When I was into the Franz Kafka and Gabriel Garzia Marquez period, I had an altogether out of the world existence; making folks at home suspect I had indeed lost it.

When I got involved with Leo Tolstoy Fyodor Dostoyevsky, I imagined myself to be suffering from revengeful natural and unnatural forces, both people and situations. I became difficult to loved ones, and my employers; lost jobs in quick succession, but found new ones as easily.

I know it’s insane; but how else can one enjoy a story to the ‘y’?

It was only natural for the writer me, while I was scripting my novel (The Plunge), to go beyond reason to get it perfect.

But some things were beyond my imagination, like when I decided to have Shimla as the setting for the latter half of my novel. I travelled to the hills several times, the mission involved four days in travel alone (to and fro) each time, dragging my family along to Shimla, for it was not safe even then (eight years ago) for a woman to make such expeditions alone in India.

My final round to Shimla was in the hope of catching the so far evasive snowfall. At that point, my son, then about 13 years old, whined, “Oh mamma, no…, not again!” He was by now bored stiff by those endless journeys to the Queen of Hills. Once I promised him this would be the last trip, he agreed reluctantly.

We reached the hills in mid-January. As the taxi driver was storing our luggage in the car trunk, I asked him what chance we had to witness a snowfall. “No chance,” he said, which hit me like an absent-minded hailstorm. Firstly, the winter was mild that year, and secondly, the weather at that moment didn’t show a hint of snowiness, he backed up his opinion with logic. I felt dejected. Did that mean this visit too was a total waste, snow-wise? I wanted my story to end in the snowfall. How do I write my concluding chapter? Real fix.

Just then, when we were about to slide into the car to reach our hotel, the clouds hurriedly rearranged on the sky. In a magical suddenness, it became overcast, the air chilly and a sharp drizzle broke onto us. This followed a short sleet and as I stood in awe, snowflakes magically floated down on us. I caught them on my open palms, grinning endlessly at my son, who stood beside me stunned. This followed a steady snowfall, as if the Almighty had torn open a bean bag, spilling the pearly pith on me. It was an awesome moment and an overwhelming experience. The next few minutes were among the best in my life. I saw God that instant and a sign to complete my story; I had the divine consent.

To all non-believers and radicals, I know for sure the Divine is a force beyond our intellect, controls our destinies, influences decisions and nudges us along life. I know this from my encounters with the Almighty, which I am at the moment compiling into a small autobiographical 100-odd-pages book, to be published by the end of 2013.

To those chronic sceptics, kindly explain the design of the leopard skin or the peacock feather, or your first crush. If you are thinking of quoting from Charles Darwin or Sigmund Freud, demystify the shifty nature of mind.

Or, simply wait for your moment of insight; if you aren’t lucky during your lifetime, you surely will be on your deathbed.

Author bio

Born in 1966, Indian writer Sindhu drew inspiration for ‘The Plunge’ from her days as a journalist in her home country. She loves writing human interest stories and is drawn to women centric issues.

As a child she “had suffered from the ugly duckling syndrome”, she says. In her mid-20s, she quit her job as a school teacher since it was beyond her ability to discipline students, and switched over to journalism.

She moved to the Gulf (Middle East) six years ago. Currently based in Bahrain, she is now a fulltime writer.

Link to seller website

http://www.amazon.com/The-Plunge-A-Love-Story/dp/1461159253/

Blog

www.sindhuspace.com

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by Samantha Young

Avery hasn’t had it easy.
When she was ten years old her parents died in a car crash. Now nine years later her Aunt Caroline is the only family she has left. And Caroline is dying.
So when Death comes knocking (quite literally) in the form of the damaged and dangerous, Brennus, Avery makes a deal with the reaper in order to save Caroline.

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by Sheila Horgan

In Hot Tea, Cara O’Flynn finds herself in an unusual position.  She’s quit her job and can afford to take a few weeks to find a new career, plus, her roommate has run off and left her with an empty room to fill.

The post Hot Tea appeared first on Indie House Books.

by Sean Patrick

If you want to learn about one of history’s most fascinating minds and uncover some of his secrets of imagination–secrets that enabled him to invent machines light years ahead of his time and literally bring light to the world–then you want to read this book.

The post Nikola Tesla appeared first on Indie House Books.

by L. Jerome Word

In Nocturnal, Christopher, a brash reporter, has trouble with the night. An insomniac, he rarely sleeps and, when he does, nightmares stemming from the unsolved murder of a childhood friend fifteen years earlier haunt him. But when he meets a young girl, who is the splitting image of his friend, and with the same name and same mother, his obsession intensifies.

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by Jonathan Watkins

When a Detroit man is arrested during a deadly police siege, rookie defense lawyer Issabella Bright rushes off to take the case. Unbeknownst to her, so does Darren Fletcher– a reckless, hard-drinking lawyer who runs his office out of the city’s strangest bar.

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By Stuart Ayris

“This book will change your life…” - Indie eBook Review

“You will never be anything less than enthralled by this novel.” - The Kindle Book Review

“With a resounding message driven by the 60s ideals of
peace, love and hope, there is plenty to enjoy for a huge range of
readers.” - Urchin Press

Other reviewers have proclaimed Tollesbury Time Forever to be…

“A strange, magical book – a work of pure genius – flawless perfection…”

Tollesbury Time
Nothing is real
And there’s nothing
To get hung about

sing the children…

In September 2008 I accompanied the police as they entered a house in Tollesbury. I was  a psychiatric nurse at the time. The owner of the house was one of my patients. He had not been seen for two weeks – neither had his wife or his son.

What I saw that evening will stay with me forever. On the walls of the lounge, in tiny, neat black writing, were thousands and thousands of words. The torch beams picked them out as if they were groups of well-ordered flies. The words continued up the stairway, onto the landing walls and into the main bedroom. I had been in the house before and had seen some of the writing upstairs. Still I was mesmerised.

What you are about to read are the words that I saw on those walls. I have ordered them into chapters and taken the liberty of providing chapter headings. I have inserted two documents midway through which I trust will make sense when you come to them.

I have since resigned my post as a community mental health nurse and no longer work in psychiatry. The patient of whom I speak is called Simon Anthony. I have met him only once – yet he is, and will always remain, my hero.

Tollesbury Time
Nothing is real
And there’s nothing
To get hung about…

What the Reviewers are Saying

“I am knocked out by his book and unusually stuck for words.”

* * * *

“To say I was enthralled would be an understatement.”

* * * *

“From the first page to the last, I was engaged, entertained, and most of all emotionally invested.”

About the Author

Stuart Ayris

I was born in the summer of 1969 and live in Tollesbury, England. I wrote my first novel, A Cleansing of Souls, when I was twenty two years old and published my second novel, Tollesbury Time Forever in January 2012. My third novel,The Bird That Nobody Sees, was released in July 2012.

Over the years I’ve put up stalls in Romford market, spent two years working as a road sweeper and some time as a council gardener. For the last fourteen years I’ve been a psychiatric nurse. I have three wonderful sons and live with my wife, Rebecca. I love cricket, playing guitar and cheap wine.

I live in Tollesbury, Essex, England. It is beautiful.

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By Gloria Amendola

Marta was living a normal suburban life until that one fateful day in October – the day everything changed. It all started when she collapsed in Providence and an angel appeared. From that moment on, nothing would be the same.

As Marta struggles to cope with her losses, she begins to hear curious voices from the ancient past. The voices offer her messages that seem bizarre at first, but as she listens more carefully, she finds herself traveling back to New Mexico, to the land of her birth. It is there in Santa Fe where the magic finds her and where visions push her to the brink. Is she losing her mind?

Or is she being guided to find something long forgotten? Why is she hearing the voices of those connected to the Jesus story, and the Knights Templar? Why does Joan of Arc appear? Why Francis Bacon and John Dee? And what do Mary Magdalene and Ben Franklin have to do with any of this?

Follow Marta on her journey – a journey she always sensed was waiting for her, but never thought she would have the courage to take…until now.

About the Author

Gloria Amendola is an intuitive who has a passion for esoteric knowledge and dream language. In her private circles, she blends the western tradition of research and evidence with the eastern path of meditation and going within for answers. She is a trained facilitator and accomplished shamanic drummer, and works with a variety of disciplines in her teaching. Gloria has written original scripts for theater. Three of her plays have been produced – in New Haven, New York City, and Seattle. Her play, Magdalene’s Mind, was translated into Finnish and Russian, for performance in those countries. Gloria lives on the shoreline of Connecticut but she often travels to sacred sites throughout the world to experience these powerful landscape temples firsthand. She is a modern day Templar aligned to Rennes le Chateau, France. She follows in the footsteps of the enigmatic Knights Templar, walking where they walked, gathering impressions from the traces they left behind. The Tower and the Dream is Gloria’s first novel. She is presently writing her first non-fiction text on the Holy Grail and her second novel in the continuation of The Tower and the Dream series.

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by Joel Dison

Who would not want more joy in their life? How about joy that is indescribable? For the Christian, however, joy is more than just something we wish to have and experience. According to Galatians 5:22, joy is a part of the fruit of the Spirit. That means joy should be a natural outpouring of the Holy Spirit’s work in our lives. Why is it, then, that even Christians are often hungry for more joy in our lives? Why are we constantly searching for joy?

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By Jane Davis

“Can you think of a really good memory? Perhaps you can see it when you close your eyes. Now, imagine you can take it out and look at it whenever you want to!” Turn of the century Brighton. A spark is ignited when wide-eyed Lottie Pye enters Mr Parker’s photographic studio and discovers the new medium that will shape her life, becoming a passion.

2009: Disgraced politician Sir James Hastings has resigned himself to living out his retirement in a secluded Surrey village. He doesn’t react when he learns that the mother who abandoned him as a baby has died at the age of 108: he presumed she had died many years ago. Brought up by his father, a charismatic war hero turned racing driver, young James, torn between self-blame and longing, eventually dismissed her as the ‘villain’ of his childhood. But, when he inherits her life’s work – a photography collection spanning over six decades – he is forced to confront his past. Assisted by student Jenny Jones, who has recently lost her own mother to cancer, Sir James is persuaded to look at the photographs as if he is seeing through his mother’s eyes. And there he discovers an extraordinary tale of courage and sacrifice.

What the Reviewers are Saying

 One of the best! January 16, 2013

This is one of the best books I have read lately and I read a lot of books.

 

I stopped Time (Jane Davis) February 21, 2013

By Sheri A. Wilkinson

An fantastic heart felt story, well written. Ms. Davis was able to switch from past to present so smoothly.

 

About the Author

Jane Davis

This is where you might expect to read that I went to Cambridge (I did, in fact. On a day trip. I went punting in the rain, if I recall), that I have an MA in creative writing, and that I have 2.5 adorable children. I was given a Catholic upbringing, which Hilary Mantel claims is essential for all writers. Other than this, I am quite unqualified, coming to it via a roundabout route. If this disappoints you, then I apologize. However, if you have that gnawing feeling that there is a book inside you trying to get out, and it makes you think, I wonder… then I’m here to tell you that, if you already have access to a computer, the only other thing you need is a little spare time. Oh, and the ability to ability to disconnect: from Facebook; your mobile phone; those two dozen vitally important junk emails that appear in your inbox every day. And you may have to wave goodbye to a good deal of your social life. (As my partner constantly reminds me: if it was easy, everyone would be doing it.) Alison Bavistock described writing as lonely, isolating and fattening. It is also extremely liberating and theraputic. I assure you: it will be worth it.

I was brought up in Merton Park, close to Wimbledon. Despite this, I have never been to the tennis, but I did see the Wombles once. They were surprisingly tall and had deep voices.

My family has a history of artistic tendencies. My paternal grandfather was a commercial artist and my maternal grandfather was a musician and composer, whose children all found work in the profession. My Uncles, both flautists, played on the Beatle’s Fool on the Hill, while my mother’s various claims to fame include being an expert on Tudor music and performing on the infamous Finger of Fudge advert. As children, we were all encouraged to attend music and ballet lessons, pushed onto the stage and into compulsive exam-taking. My experiences left me with a hatred of classical music, terrible stage fright and panic attacks on entering exam rooms.

I left school at the age of sixteen armed with all the essentials – an RE O level and a life-saving certificate – and ignoring only careers’ advice available to convent school girls: that all smart girls should aspire to becoming nurses or schoolteachers. I chose insurance. Or rather, that was what the job centre had on offer, and it was only a twenty-minute walk from home, so I wouldn’t have to get up very early. Sorted.

After suffering from depression throughout my teenage years and my 20s, I developed a keen interest in psychology. The middle child of five, I am particularly interested in the influence that position in the family has in determining personality.

Travel has played a major part in my adult life, but I also have a keen love of Britain and the British countryside in particular. This stems from a 10-year stint with the boy scouts, firstly as a cub leader and then, since knowing I should not swear resulted in a compulsive outbursts, with the less shockable Venture Scouts (who taught me a few new ones to add to my reportoire). I still take regular walking, climbing and photography trips, and think of Ambleside in the Lake District as my second home.

My partner of fourteen years and I live in a part of Surrey that claims to be a London Borough in a ridiculously impractical timber-framed house. If we ever move, it will be because we have run out of space for our CD collection.

I wrote as a hobby for a number of years while clawing up the career-ladder, but it increased in importance to me, gradually taking over. In 2008 I took a leap of faith and ‘retired’ from full-time work, just at the onset of a major recession. In my working life I have regularly written articles for the insurance press. Occasionally, they were published under my own name.

My turning point was when I attended the Winchester Writers’ Conference and learned about a competition for unpublished writers. That was Saturday: the closing date was the following Monday.

In October 2008, my first novel, Half-truths and White Lies, was selected as the winning title of the Daily Mail First Novel Award. It was published by Black Swan in April 2009 and has been translated into German.

PS: Also, I cannot ski.

 

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