Feed

inbound4003898733947376254

''Here is the air that had brought John to me. The same air was taking him away,'' Nare said to herself and tried to stretch her hand towards the flying airplane in despair. Nare kept on wandering at the airport with her secret thoughts and silent monologue. She no longer believed that her computer would open the door of the cage in which her heart's nightingale was trapped. ''Nare, nobody will offer you his vehicle,'' she kept on speaking to herself. The people were too busy to notice her quenched shape that was wandering around the airport. Suddenly her eyes met an old man. He had his passport and plane ticket in his hand. The man's wrinkled face reminded her of a grey cliff, and the tears from his eyes were likely to be rain drips sticking in the deep wrinkles of his cheeks.

The Pilot is a literary fiction. The main character of the story is a young lady, Nare, who faces so many troubles and disappointments. She has to rely on her dreams and illusions as her realities are not kind to her. Nare's bear cub'' appears to be her inner voice, and her toy plane becomes a symbol of an amazing change. Her ''bear cub,'' that used to be her toy Teddy Bear keeps on telling her to fly. Her toy plane also reminds her of flights. She gets a message from her late parents on facebook from Heaven, telling her that she will fly up in the future. Nare lives with her uncle's family as she does not have home. Only her uncle feels sorry for her. His wife and daughter in law are sure that Nare is mentally ill...

My Next Sam story is up soon

'' I am so sorry. I wish I were able to take you to my place,'' John said.
He opened his wallet again.
'' Here is some money,” he said. “Do pay the taxi driver to take you to town.''
Their hands embraced each other. The coins found themselves in Nare's cold palm.
'' Good flight, John!'' she cried.
John bound himself to large crowds of the passengers and slid through the departure gate. She looked around. The lit bulbs of the airport reminded her of shiny stars.
''I won't go back, no, I won't,'' Nare whispered and her dark eyes suddenly changed into bubbled black clouds.

Some lines from my novel, ''The Pilot.''

Nare's life journey and her flight.

The story speaks about love and separation, loss, pain, failures and the way to success.The characters of the novel are ordinary people with different destinies. The philosophy of this novel is not only existence but dignity. It's a romance that expresses the power of love.
The pilot is one of the main characters of the novel who used to be a poor young lady whose parents and younger brother died in a car accident.
The novel is about desires and ambitions. The strong ambitions make not only dreams but even illusions come true as well.

Almost twenty-five years ago, my debut horror novel, Riverwatch, was first published by a small press publisher out of Florida. A year later it was released in mass market paperback by Simon & Schuster. It went on to be nominated for two biggest awards in horror fiction at the time - the Bram Stoker Award and the International Horror Guild Award.

Flash forward to today and I'm releasing a brand new, annotated, limited edition of Riverwatch, complete with notes and commentary on various characters, scenes, and the like. From the bet over a case of beer in college that prompted me to write the book in the first place to my thoughts more than three decades after doing so, this edition gives you the inside scoop on everything Riverwatch!

Please I have always dreamed of writing stories that not just entertained people but moved people and brought people together and helped people explain the experiences of their souls

I survived twelve hours of brutality—strangled three times, sexually assaulted, and kicked with steel-toed boots. But the violence didn’t end when the attack stopped. For nearly a year, PTSD has followed me—nightmares, panic, and the weight of memories I can’t shut off. What hurts just as much is how the systems meant to protect me—courts, national DV hotlines, organizations—let me down. In rural areas, we’re told there’s no funding, no space, no help.

That silence becomes a second kind of violence.

Still, I keep going—for my two amazing kids who deserve hope. Healing is slow, uneven, but love is bigger than trauma. Survivors don’t just “move on.” We carry the weight, every day. And by sharing, I hope to remind others: we are not alone, and our communities must do better.