The Snow Killer - New Cover!

The Snow Killer by Melissa Holden

Cover Art by Mark Looker

VLOG ENTRY: Me Talking about "The Snow Killer"

Morning, 

I've just done a quick video for those few book-fans I have. 

It just talk a little bit about the book and why it is the way it is...

Hope you like it! Please share and comment

 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IJrSwSo4Kn8

Enjoy and have a great day! 

Keep posting, 
Mel

Body positive VLOG

Hey bloggers!

I've just done my first ever vlog, and it's about BODY IMAGE and PLUS SIZE. I think these are really pressing matters that need to be explored, even if from only my view. So, please check it out: share it, love it, and learn from it. 

 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2Rps6OGtwiw&feature=youtu.be

over and out 

Mel. x

WordPress!

Hi Blogger followers!

I've not been idle:

between daily pages, blogger, promotion for The Snow Killer and well, life; I've started a Word Press blog!

http://melissaholden.wordpress.com

Come say hi and give me a follow!

I'm currently doing a series about a Doctor Who-loving duck who think she is married to the Doctor (Yeah, I'm not sure where that's going either), and I'm posting daily about my life and any golden-writing I might come up with. 

Don't worry, I haven't abandoned you Blogger. I'm just, testing the water.

If you are missing me that much, why not follow me on Twitter: @melissaholden94, or Like my Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/MelissaHoldenWriter
Or, for those Tumblr fans, find me at: http://melissaholden94.tumblr.com/

Goodnight,


Always keeping you posted:


 Mel 

Black and Red - poem

A new poem for you all. 

Inspired by: doodling red and black hearts in my notebook (as if I am twelve...)When: 27/11/2013 in lecture

Black and Red

Black hearts against the red.

Can you see them?

They are the brightest hearts

(sometimes.)

Those lovers:

their eyes shine.

They are clever and bold and bright

and cruel.

(Like we were.)

We were shining, weren't we?

We were, and still are, 

young

with red-blood pumping.

Through time, we've changed. 

Your heart is matte now,

mine shines in the dark.

You can have the Sun my love, 

and I shall watch the stars

(Our stars.) 

You will learn to love again.

I shall finally learn to live.

My black, black heart

oh, how you made it beat.

You still do, you know

(but do you know your effect on me?)

I think you will love her

she isn't the one, but she is Alive. 

Enough for you, anyway.

(She isn't me, is that good?)

I wasn't enough. (Could I have been?)

OR: I was too much, perhaps?

We have danced together

beneath the stars.

Will I feel the light of the Sun

on my skin again?

There is no heat on my skin.

Not anymore.

You are alive, my darling.

And I shall be forever jealous;

guarding my stars in the black night

that is my heart. 

Stuck for where to buy this Christmas?

Hello beautiful bloggers!

It's only a month until Christmas, so it's time to start shopping for presents.

amazon.co.uk have been great for me this winter, and with surprisingly fast delivery, there's no need to worry about that special present not arriving on time. I got my mom some great Disney socks for a really cheap price, check them out: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Pairs-Ladies-Winnie-Piglet-Eeyore/dp/B00DW5TPNS/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1385300505&sr=8-2&keywords=eeyore+disney+socks

Looking for something a bit more academic? I stop my step-dad this interesting book about wolves, but it would be suitable for any age: http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/0061626570/ref=oh_details_o05_s00_i00?ie=UTF8&psc=1

Or, a music lover? My friend Alex is obsessed with Evanescence, so I got her this beautiful framed mount of their album: http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B004DSIEZI/ref=oh_details_o04_s00_i00?ie=UTF8&psc=1

And, for that little cousin (or my 21 year old friend, Ashleigh) why not something Harry Potter themed? http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B00EQZ72J2/ref=oh_details_o03_s00_i00?ie=UTF8&psc=1

NiceEShop are great for handmade trinkets, here's the link on Amazon: http://www.amazon.co.uk/s?ie=UTF8&field-keywords=niceEshop&index=watches&search-type=ss

OR, if you like handmade gifts, but aren't sure what to get them, check out: etsy.com 
They're really cheap and amazing quality: just remember to order soon because some items may be shipped from around the world.

Any more ideas or great websites to use this Christmas? Tweet me @melissaholden94

Let the countdown begin!

-Mel

Fairy Tales with a Twist Series: Cinderella

Hi Blogger!

I've decided to do a small series of 500+ entries to do with fairy tales. 

Now, Disney has done very well in telling us the fairy tales of the past centuries, but they haven't really been modernised: it's always that non-descript Medieval era, (with the exception of "The Princess and The Frog" which looks like fifties America).

This is all spurred from a lecture I had on Thursday, and we posed the question of how different the stories would be if you changed elements such as: location, gender, sexuality, time frame, era, etc.

I'm starting with Cinderella, and will confess now: all of my fairy tale knowledge derives from Disney.

"Cindy: this is the third time this month you've been caught in town outside curfew. I won't stand for it any longer.” Rebecca took the girl's limp hand, and tried to ignore the biting stare from her eyes.

"You need to understand that we have rules here, and now you are a part of this community-"

"It's not a community; it's a dumping ground for strays." Cindy pulled back her hand and slumped back in the orange chair. "I want to go home."

"Cindy, you can't go home. Your step-mother lost the custody plea after your father... we will help you find a new home. Or you can go for a foster family? Would you like that?"

"Can I go to my room now?"

"Chores first I'm afraid. And its film night tonight, doesn't that sound fun?"

"Not really." she looked down at her feet. "What are my chores?"

"Clean the kitchen floor."

"Fine." The girl stood up to leave, but Rebecca called after her.

"Cindy? Can I trust this is the end of the anti-social behaviour?"

"No." Cindy walked out of the office and towards the kitchen.

- - - 

Cindy pulled her phone out of her pocket and dialled a number. RING RING RING - "Yo, Prince? It's Cindy. You've got to get me out of here, they're driving me insane. Twenty minutes? Fine. See you." She put the phone back in her pocket and carried on mopping the floor. 

- - -

Cindy shut her bedroom door behind her. The one good thing about the Far Far Away Children's Home was that she had her own room, right at the top of the house, in the attic. She searched for her bag and picked up some of her clothes. When she found the bag, she stuffed them inside and rummaged around her room for other things.

"Where's my goddamn lighter?" Cindy patted herself down but couldn't find the pink flip lighter she had gotten from Prince for her birthday. 

Prince was her best friend, lover and dealer. She literally couldn't do anything without his say so. Even when she was living with her step-mom and step-sisters, he was always there to rescue her and take her far away. 

That's what a lover/dealer is so good at: they can make your dreams come true just by adding a little magic dust. 

Cindy's phone rang in her jacket pocket, and she answered it through her headphones. "Sup?"

"I'm outside. Where are you?"

"I'm just grabbing some stuff. I'll be like two minutes." She hung up with the click of a button and carried on packing. 

A knock at the door startles her. "Can I come in, Cindy?"

"Fuck." She whispered. "Yeah one second." She kicked the bag under the bed and straightened up her covers. She walked over to the door and opened it. "Hi. What's up?"

"Are you coming down for film night?"

"I have a bit of a headache actually. I think it was the fumes from the bleach. I'm just going to lie down for a little while." Rebecca looked at the tall blonde girl in front of her and worried.

"Are you sure? It's the girls' choice tonight. Is there nothing you want to watch?"

"Honestly, I just want to lie down. But I'll come to the next one."

Hesitant, Rebecca said her goodbyes and left Cindy alone. Cindy shut the door, grabbed her bag and climbed out of the window, and ran into the arms of her Prince. 

The Snow Killer: the journey to Kindle

Last night, I tried to sort out The Snow Killer for upload to Kindle, through Kindle Direct Publishing. For anyone thinking about using Kindle, I will be blogging about my experience with Kindle.

They have a cover creator, which is really good. You can mess around with fonts and colours, images (if you don't have a specific one) for your cover.

Everything is saved onto your account with KDP, which saves computer space.


PROBLEM ONE: Text Layout

Text layout was a real issue when trying to upload the book: you have to have everything in one document, and things like dedications, etc. all end up on one page.

TIP: put each new part, i.e. Chapters, or headings, on a new page (if you are using Word).

PROBLEM TWO: Uploading the book

Once you upload your book to KDP, it gives you the option to preview your text before continuing.

TIP: always check it before you continue, you may notice something has happened to your text.

PROBLEM: When you check it in the previewer, and decide you need to change it: you have to go through the entire process again.

PROBLEM THREE: Tax Information

I had to fill out a tax information form, due to you actually making money from your book.
However, the problem is that A) It asks for an electronic signature B) It assumes you are American, making it difficult to fill out the form if you aren't

TIP: Don't get an ITN, or EIN or anything like that - you don't need it.
TIP: Option to print out the form, and sign it in blue/black ink - it's easier.

That's as far as I've got so far - I'll keep you posted!

The Snow Killer: Nearly ready

The book is nearly finished! Just some editing to do and then it's ready for print. It's going to be about 120 pages - not what you would call a novel, but I'm proud of it. 

Keeping you posted,

Mel. 

UPDATE: The Snow Killer

Be excited my blogger-lovelies, 

I am currently in the midst of Chapter Nine of "The Snow Killer", the thriller/mystery/murder/romance fictional book I have been writing.

Parts One to Five were published on my blogger page, and are available until New Years, or whenever I decide you've had enough of a sneak peak. 

I will be printing said book at the beginning of November 2013, so please feel free to buy a copy. "The Snow Killer" is on sale for £8.99 in paperback. Please Tweet me @melissaholden94 for a copy, or email me @ melissah183@googlemail.com

- Mel. 

The Snow Killer: Update 25/10/2013

Just to let you know....


Hi Blogger,

It's 4AM in England, and I've just finished Chapter Five of "The Snow Killer". I'm currently on 10, 435 word count, and am aiming for a total of 25,000. 

"The Snow Killer" will be removed at the end of November, to to copyright issues, so if you haven't read Draft One, Parts 1-5, then get moving, because they won't be there for long.

Thank you for all your support, 

Mel. 

The Snow Killer - Part Four

In demand of several relatives and a few like-minded friends, I am aiming to finish this novel, and publish it through blurb.co.uk, before Christmas in order to deliver (and sign on my mother's request) copies of my book as presents. I then plan to sell them (hopefully) in small bookstores and possibly on amazon.co.uk. 

We left Danny just after he committed a terrible crime: let's see what happens next... 

The Snow Killer: Part Four

Danny rushed around the corner, and started to head home. After a few moments of frantic walking, he stopped in his tracks. 

What if someone saw me? 

Danny looked around him, but calmed down somewhat when he realised he was the only one in the street. It made sense: it was the middle of the night. In the snow. Alone. Freezing. 

She was blue. She turned blue so quickly. And her eyes...

Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out. 

As Danny started walking again, tugging his jacket closer in a failed attempt to take the chill off the skin. But he knew the chill had nothing to do with the white snow that surrounded him.

All that blood...  

Danny walked faster as he thought about what he should do. His feet near-running, carrying him home - faithful to him when his mind wasn't.

I should turn myself in. I can't just leave her there to be buried in the snow: they might not find her for days. She has a family... 

The snow whispered to Danny as he trod:

Killer. Left the girl in the snow. Snow killer. You hate the snow. Emily loved the snow. She danced in the snow. Killer. You killed Emily. You killed the girl. You killed your mother.

"No!" Danny panted. "I'm running away from snow! Snow can't talk. What's wrong with me?" He grabbed fistfuls of his hair underneath his hood, and crouched to the floor. The words echoed around his head. They burned like a cold star: impossible anywhere but his mind. He had always known it was his fault, but it was an accident. This was different. This was by his own hand, his own physical hands had taken the life of a sixteen year old girl. She looked just like Emily. But prettier. The girl had rejected him immediately. 

Why? What is so wrong with me? Emily had always been the best of both of us, but I never had any trouble before she died...

Danny remembered his father's words just seconds after they buried Emily and Sara side-by-side. "You let them smother you. You're a man now; you need to rid yourself of all these ideas of a happy, care-free life and focus on getting a job, making a businessman out of yourself." 

"It's just not logical to have your head in the clouds. Sara always let you get away with it. All the writing and painting and what-not. Girl's stuff."

"I should have sent you to boarding school, but Sara always molly-coddled you. She said it would upset you too much. That you were fragile. You're not right in the head, boy. She made sure of that. Ruining my only son. Sometimes I feel like I have two daughters instead of one."

"You couldn't just be normal, like Emily, could you? Such a pretty girl. Always did what she was told. But you, well, I'm glad I will be seeing the back of this ridiculous behaviour. You are not your sister. You are a man. That I'll make sure of. Oh, stop crying. They are gone and there's nothing you can do about it." 

The words kept going in Danny's head, even though he tried so hard to banish them, pressing his hands into his eyes and seeing the burning colours of his skin against the fragile lids that protected him from the pain. But they didn't. His eyes may have closed to the world, but his brain wouldn't let go. All he could see was the girl, blue skin against fragile white snow. Her long blonde hair darkened by the blood. The blood was everywhere. 

Danny stopped again: The blood was everywhere: All over his hands; in his hair; on his skin; dried into his clothes; across his lips; buried into the ridges of his fingerprints. He pulled his jacket off and searched for a lighter. 

I gave it to Diane. 

"Fuck!" Danny ripped the jacket in to pieces and put different pieces in different bins on his way home. The last bin was Mrs. Roberts, the old woman that lived next door. He lived on the top floor of a maisonette in Winston Close. A dark building, cornered by other houses: being bullied. Upon taking the rooms, the landlady had commented on the pale of his skin: "Well you'll fit in here Mr. Fores, no light in this house. You'll always have the lights on. Unless you like the dark..."

He unlocked the door and pushed hard on the frame. Always sticking. The money I pay... Danny caught himself: thinking about such trivial things when I am covered in blood. He ran up the stairs to his apartment, opened the door and locked it behind him. He padded to the bathroom and turned the shower on. The steam rose, taking that first layer of ice from his heart. He went back into the bedroom/living room/study and took off his clothes. Everything was dark with blood. He turned the bedside lamp on to look at the mess. 

It's everywhere. 

He could see the handprints of the girl on his jeans, she had struggled. He had panicked and pushed back. He shook himself, don't think about it, and put the clothes in the bin. 

"Oh, Daniel, you stupid boy: falling over. Now that's your best shirt ruined, look at this, there’s blood everywhere. Oh, and you tore straight through the elbows. What an earth were you doing in that tree anyway?"

"I was watching a bird, Mummy. It was so beautiful, and it was signing. I drew it, Mummy, look". The young Danny attempted in vain to show his mother his sketches. 

"Not now Danny, Emily needs her lunch. Go and wash up, no more climbing trees, now, y'hear?" 

"Yes, Mummy." Danny looked to his feet, but was filled with glee moments later when his father walked through the door. 

"Daddy, look, I drew a -" 

"Not now, Daniel. What's wrong, Sara?" Marcus kissed his wife's cheek and took the shirt from her hands. 

"Your son was out in the woods today." Sara shot her husband a scornful look. 

"Really, well boy, what happened here?" He held up the shirt.

"i was in a tree, Daddy. I was-"

"Climbing trees, finally. Just be more careful next time, kiddo. OK?"

"Well, yes Daddy but-"

"Sara, where's my dinner?" 

"How should I know, I've been watching the damned kids all day. Daniel, go play with your sister."

"Sara, I've been at work all day! all I want is a goddamn fucking meal when I get home from work. Is that so much to ask?" Marcus stood up from the armchair he had just occupied and approached his wife. "Is it, Sara? Just a bit of dinner. Not difficult is it? All you do is sit around and drink. Maybe next time you could make my-"

Sara slapped her husband across the face, and stood trembling in front of him. Marcus shoved her against the wall, making her drop the plate she had been holding. 

"Now look what you've done, you stupid cow. Made a mess. You're going to clean that up, aren't you, Sara?" Tears ran down her face as her husband’s breath hit her lips. 

"Is that Chanel I smell, Marcus. My , my, you have gone up in taste." The fear in her eyes diminished her thinly veiled threat. 

"That's enough! Clean this mess up." He released his grip on her shoulders and sat back down. 

Sara cleaned up the broken shards of china, and threw them away. She had stopped crying by the time she brought Marcus a beer. She smiled sweetly at him and kissed him on the cheek. 

"Danny was a smart boy today, climbing up that tree. Shame he did it to draw. Kid needs to learn to man up a little bit. It was only a shirt, Sara. Just buy him another one and shut up about it, OK?"

"OK." She smiled again. 

Danny remembered that day so well: the first time he had ever seen his parents fight. It was only years later he had found out it had been happening since he was born. They had wanted a girl, not a boy. Sara never wanted a boy. 

"He'll end up like you, you know. I don't want any son of mine being violent to women. He's not a coward." 

"He is a coward, Marcus. He's your son."

Danny climbed into the shower and let the water burn him.

That's part Four finished: missed the first three? Go to the "The Snow Killer" tab at the top of the page for the full story. 

The Snow Killer: Part Three

1260 words, so much is said between the lines. Let's see what Danny does next:

The Snow Killer: Part Three

Danny took a swig of his drink and rushed out to follow her, to find she was already gone. He swore under his breath at the snowflakes that landed on his iced skin, and pulled his hood up over his short dirt-blonde hair.

Rush. Rush. Rush.

It’s only snow. It’s not the same snow. Every snowflake is different. They aren’t the same ones.

Danny searched for a lighter in his jacket, before remembering he’d given in to Diane.

Rush. Rush. Rush.

But they could be. They could have seen it all. They know it was my fault.

He turned the corner, bumping into a man in a leather jacket.

“Sorry, you alright, mate?” The man had a strange look on his face.

He knows.

Pump. Pump. Pump.

They know I killed Emily and Mum. They were there.

Rush. Pump.

It was the snows fault. I couldn’t stop the car.

Rush. Pump. Rush. Pump.

I shouldn’t have been driving.

Rush. Rush. Rush. Rush. Rush. Rush. Rush. Rush. Rush.

I couldn’t drive, Mum knew that.

“You need to practise, Danny, otherwise you’ll never pass, and then I’ll have to keep driving you everywhere.”

“Emily will pass before you do.”

“You should have learned when you were seventeen like all the other kids.”

“No, Mum, don’t let me drive.” Danny stopped abruptly and slammed his back against the outer-wall of the block of flats on Spring Lane. “You shouldn’t have let me drive.” Danny began to sob, but stopped when he heard a voice.

“Oh my god, Jen, there’s some beggar crying. Yeah. It’s a guy. I know right. I feel so bad for him, like, ‘cause it’s snowing and everything. I better go, Joe’s picking me up. Piss off, he’s my brother!”

Danny moved to see where the estranged voice was coming from, and realized it was the girl from the pub on the phone. He watched as she put her phone away and moved towards a lamppost. As she leaned against it, she pulled her thin jacket around her, and looked around.

They were at the edge of a council estate, in the middle of the night, and it was snowing.

Hardly a safe place to wait, stupid cow – doesn’t she know anything about Stranger Danger?

Pump. Pump. Pump.

The girl fidgeted in the cold but kept looking up at the sky, as if wondering where the snow comes from.

If she realises I’m here, she’s gonna go nuts.

Danny tried to stand up, but slipped down the wall and crashed into a bin.

“What the fuck was that?” The girl moved in to the light more, and Danny saw just how young she really was. She couldn’t have been more than nineteen.

Emily is nineteen in March.

Danny caught himself before he could think about her again, but his grip on his own mind was weak.

She was so young. So pretty. Everyone loved her.

He looked at the ditzy girl in front of him, and noticed her hair: it shone in the light of the flickering street lamp. She was fair, but not sickly pale, like Danny. When he was younger, his mother was always telling him to go out in the sun and play with the other kids.

“Who’s there? I’m calling the cops if you don’t come out right now!”  Her voice trembled like a crying child. “Now, dammit!” She screeched.

Rush. Rush. Rush.

Danny walked towards her, holding up his hands in surrender.

 “Whoa, OK, I’m coming out. I wasn’t watching you I swear, I just-“

Rush. Rush. Rush.

“Oh my days, it’s you: you’re the creepy bloke from the pub. You’re stalking me!” The girl stepped back.

Rush. Rush. Rush.

“No, No, seriously I’m not. I was just walking home, I swear.” He lowered his arms, and stepped towards her again.

This is beginning to look like a tango. Backwards, forwards. Backwards, forwards.

Rush. Rush. Rush.

Shut the fuck up, will you, so I can go home?

“Well then why were you hiding behind a bin? No sane person stalks anyone. You must be some psycho freak. Stalking girls in the snow.” She tried to stand firm, but her legs buckled beneath her and she fell into the quickly forming bed of snow behind her.

Rush. Rush. Rush.

Not the snow. It’s always the snow.

“Will you shut up about the weather? I’m not fucking stalking you.”

Rush. Rush. Rush.

“Yes you are: an attractive woman out on her own. I rejected you. You thought it would be funny to come and scare me. Well I’m not scared, Freak.” She spat the last word at him.

“Shut up” The words of a petulant child with no anger but his own.

Rush. Rush. Rush.

“Freak. Leave me alone.”  She scrambled back against a wall, and tried to stand up. Danny got closer and closer.

Stop talking.

“HELP! HELP ME HEL-“Danny covered her mouth with his hand.

RUSH. Da. Dum. RUSH. Da. Dum. RUSH. Da. Dum.

“Shut the fuck up. What are you trying to pull? Flirting with men and then accusing them of stalking you. I bet you’re not even old enough to be in a fucking pub.” He gripped her mouth with his palm; his nails digging in to her milk skin.

She’s so beautiful.

RUSH. Da. Dum. RUSH. Da. Dum. RUSH. Da. Dum.

The girl mumbled beneath his hand, and a warm expulsion of breath tickled his skin.

“Stop talking. Do you ever stop talking?”

RUSH. Da. Dum. RUSH. Da. Dum. RUSH. Da. Dum.

The girl tried to scream, which panicked Danny.

“Please stop talking. You talked about the snow. The snow hates me. Please, make it stop, please.” Danny sobbed hysterically. The girl’s eyes widened, and she tried to scream once more.

RUSH. Da. Dum. RUSH. Da. Dum. RUSH. Da. Dum.

Danny jolted his hand in panic, smashing her head against the bricks behind her head.

RUSH. Da. Dum. RUSH. Da. Dum. RUSH. Da. Dum.

She cried out in pain. Every noise she made was mumbled. She couldn’t breathe. There was blood everywhere.

RUSH. Da. Dum. RUSH. Da. Dum. RUSH. Da. Dum.

Danny pulled his hand away from her mouth and frantically tried to bring her back. He pounded his clenched hands against her silvery top.

“Breathe you bitch, fucking breathe.”

RUSH. Da. Dum. RUSH. Da. Dum. RUSH. Da. Dum. RUSH. Da. Dum. RUSH. Da. Dum. RUSH. Da. Dum. RUSH. Da. Dum. RUSH. Da. Dum. RUSH. Da. Dum.

“BREATHE” He grabbed her shoulders and shook her furiously; her head hitting the wall. Slam. Slam. Slam. More blood.

So much blood from such a tiny person.

“Please stop.”

RUSH. Da. Dum. RUSH. Da. Dum. RUSH. Da. Dum.

Danny dropped the girl’s body, and looked around for her bag. He pulled out a pink purse and a silver flip-phone. He fished out her I.D, looking for a name. He found a provisional driver’s licence.

Fuck. She’s sixteen. Oh my god, she’s fucking sixteen.

Tears escaped his eyes, burning as the cold and the wet hit his cheeks.

RUSH. Da. Dum. RUSH. Da. Dum. RUSH. Da. Dum.

“Lily Addams.” He looked from the I.D to the girl. I.D to the girl. I.D to the girl. I.D to the girl.

RUSH. Da. Dum. RUSH. Da. Dum. RUSH. Da. Dum.

Danny dropped the I.D card in the snow.

She looks just like Emily.

Rush. Rush. Rush.

Danny put everything back in the purse, and lay it next to the girl. He placed her blue hands on top of her stomach, and left her to sleep in the snow. 

"Snow Killer" current word count: 2,355 / 40,000 (est finished count)

The Snow Killer - Part Two

We left our two main characters in a bar, lets see where they go. 

Didn't read Part One?  http://melissaholden94.blogspot.co.uk/2013/10/the-snow-killer-first-installment.html

The Snow Killer, Part Two

"There you go, Diane. Enough ice for you?" 

Hopefully it'll help her cool off of me a little.
 
"Yeah, it's fine, sweetheart. Now come cosy up down here next to me." Diane patted the space next to her with her left hand, and picked up the drink with her right. 

Or not...

"I'm fine over here." As he spoke, he pulled out the wooden chair, placed his drink on the table, and sat down. 

She's not that bad looking from this angle...

"So, kiddo, who was the broad?"

Pump. Pump. Pump. 

"No one. Just some bitch I met earlier."

Rush. Rush. Rush.

"Ah, I geddit. She reject-"

Pump. Rush. Pump. Rush. Pump. Rush. "She didn't reject me!" Danny slammed his palm down onto the beer-covered table between them. 
 
Pump. Rush. Pump. Rush. Pump. Rush.

"Hey - don't lose it with me, or I'll lose it with you, got it sweetheart?" Diane became cold and stern. Like his mother. 

Pump. Pump. Pump.
  Danny looked down at the table, and stared for a moment at the shot glasses in front of him. After a brief silence, he handed Diane one of the tequila shots and simply said: "Cheers?" 

"OK kid, cheers". They clinked glasses and swallowed the amber liquid. 
The burn. That's what did it for him, not the taste, but the feeling of fire running down his throat. The fire calmed him when it should  have enticed him. But Danny had always been made aggressive by much simpler things than alcohol.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out.

Diane suddenly pointed at the window to the left of her, "Hey, look: it's snowing".

Da. Dum. Da. Dum. Da. Dum.

She sounded young; as if it was her first snow. Her face glowed in the dark pub. Danny saw (for the first time in the moments they had known each other) what kind of woman she really was: not a stubborn, angry old woman, but a scared girl in need of a friend.
Why else do you ask a stranger to go to the pub, if not to avoid going home?

Da. Dum. Da. Dum. Da. Dum.
Da. Dum. Da. Dum. Da. Dum.
Da. Dum. Da. Dum. Da. Dum.

"I need to go," Danny watched Diane's face darken as he spoke. Feeling guilty, he said, "Ya'know, just because of the snow. I'll walk you back if you like?"

Da. Dum. Da. Dum. Da. Dum.

She shot him a weak smile, finished her drink and stood up. "It's alright kid, I'm getting a cab." She smile again, and grabbed Danny's hand. Diane pulled a pen from her pocket and scrawled her phone number into the palm of his hand. "Gimme a call sometime. Everyone needs a bit of company, and I get the feeling you need it more than most". And with that, she walked out.

Pump. Pump. Pump.

Danny was left sat at the table feeling frustrated.

Pump. Pump. Pump.

She doesn't know anything about me.

Rush. Rush. Rush.

He took a mouthful from his drink.

Da. Dum. Da. Dum. Da. Dum.

I should have walked her home. Cabs aren't that safe.


Well that's PART TWO finished with, I can't wait for you all to read PART THREE!

- Mel