Paperback Book SALE

And I can shamelessly add that my own publications can also be found here! But do check out some of the other fabulous books published by Tara.

Raw Earth Ink

Dear friends, I hope those of you who celebrate the US Thanksgiving holiday had a great day. Hopefully with friends and family and good food and better company. Thanksgiving is my very favorite holiday. Not only is it a time of food and friends, it’s a time where we set aside a few moments or hours to just be THANKFUL! Being grateful is so good for our minds, our attitudes, even our bodies. I am super thankful for each and every one of you who reads my website, buys the books that Raw Earth Ink publishes, comments, and supports with all your love. YOU are the reason that this website still exists, because there have been many days I’ve wanted to give up and disappear. It is the continued kindness and friendliness and art that keeps me here. So, truly, Thank You.

Now, I just realized that my distributor…

View original post 278 more words

And, in other news…

I have now (at last) officially become a member of the Goodreads community. I am looking forward to seeing what some of you are reading and maybe picking up a few ideas!

I can be found here:

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/75174.Chris_Nelson

The Beautiful Silence

I am both thrilled and delighted to be able to announce the publication of my latest collection of short stories.

The anthology is entitled ‘The Beautiful Silence’ and is a collection of sixteen stories with each one focused around the impact of one event on its central character: some may be fantastical, some introspective and yet more haunting and disturbing.

I really hope that this appeals to you and I appreciate all of you who have supported my efforts thus far.

The book is currently available through Lulu (I have attached the relevant link below), but I will add an updated post once it becomes more widely available.

Thank you in advance!

https://www.lulu.com/en/gb/shop/chris-nelson/the-beautiful-silence/paperback/product-d7mz7m.html

In Love With You

Tags

Christianity, conflict, creative, faith, Falling Sleet, In love with you, inspiration, Judas, loss, Love, poems, poetry, Relgion, verse, Viaticum, writing

This is a poem taken from my collection ‘Falling Sleet’ which is available to by at various online outlets (Lulu, Amazon, Blackwells).

It is also now available as an e-book (simply click on the link below:

https://www.lulu.com/en/gb/shop/chris-nelson/falling-sleet/ebook/product-6eqy99.html

I hope that you enjoy it.

This is the reason

That I came here

And suffered

At their hands.

The reason that

I stayed here

And followed

Scriptures road.

This is the passion

That flows in me

The blood and

Sweat and fear.

At times to see no

Other but you

My hope my

Life my fare.

And was I blinded

Eyes scarred to see

Eclipsed from truth

Meant for me?

Fell so far from grace

Another hand

Lost to me

In your eye.

This is the reason

I stayed for you

Impure

Love you knew.

The touch, your tear

The one I knew

A kiss of

Death from you.

E-BOOK…E-BOOK…

Tags

creative, Dystopian, E-book, fiction, Introspective, Lulu, Publication, short stories, stories, The Candle Game, writing

I am delighted to be able to announce that my short story collection ‘The Candle Game’ is now available as an e-book.

I have attached a link below for anyone who might be interested (thank you in advance). I hope that you enjoy reading!

https://www.lulu.com/en/gb/shop/chris-nelson/the-candle-game/ebook/product-27v2yp.html

Turning Wheel

Tags

creative, dreams, faith, hope, Love, poems, poetry, Progress, time, Turning Wheel, verse, writing

And the wheel still turns

We get caught between

All the things we’ve done 

All our hopes and dreams,

And the days move on

Like we’d never been

As our faces fade

On a clouded screen,

All the promises

Hanging in the air 

Like the memories 

We no longer share,

And the lives we thought 

We had touched in time

Dancing once again

To a different rhyme,

Drifting silently 

From your field of view

Wipe away the scars

On a canvas new,

And the wheel still turns 

We get caught between 

All the things we’ve done 

And our hopes and dreams. 

Take This Heart

Tags

creative, inspiration, loss, Love, lyrics, music, poems, poetry, separation, Take This Heart, verse, writing

Open my eyes to the grey

That bleeds between the blinds,

Dead welcome to the day

No comfort to my mind,

No sunlight on my skin

To warm these broken bones,

There is no doorway in

No house without a home.

The ache that spreads between

The blades across my back,

And nothing I have seen

Comes crawling through the black,

And limbs that move alone

No mind no words no will,

The things that I have done

No longer touch me still.

So come

Come take this heart away

I don’t need it now you’re gone,

So come

Come take this heart away

It is lost without your song.

And everyday is winter

So cold without your hand,

Every word a splinter

No place for me to land,

A scuff upon my shoe

Reminders of the day,

The memories of you

The words you used to say.

And what does it all count for

Those things upon the chair,

And who is keeping score

Of tears that I left there?

Your scent upon my skin

Serves only to remind,

That all has come and been

Lies lonely in my mind.

So come

Come take this heart away

I don’t need it now you’re gone,

So come

Come take this heart away

It is lost without your song.

Skin – an excerpt

Tags

Book, Collection, creative, Lulu, Published, short stories, short story, Skin, story, The Candle Game, writing

Below is an excerpt from my short story ‘Skin’ which appears in the collection ‘The Candle Game and other stories’ ( ISBN: 978-1-716-81687-1) which is available to purchase through various online outlets (Lulu, Amazon, Barnes & Noble…)

Hope you enjoy!

I sat and watched as my right arm slowly began to snake its way into the blueness above me. It began to dance rings in the air in much the same way as I had been led to believe Native American tribesmen had sent smoke signals to one another across the plains in years now consigned to one-sided history books. Its hand tilted itself in my direction before, in an almost apologetic fashion, waving. Whether this was a wave of dismissal or a casual farewell I could not say, I merely watched as it flicked its wrist and continued its ascent. 

In a strange and somewhat unfathomable way I had never felt quite as attached to my arm as I did at this precise moment, despite the fact that it was, even as my brain processed the thought, spiralling ever further away from me. I continued to watch, unable or unwilling to act, as if, by my very movement, the moment would be lost, as the distinguishable features of my arm began to blur and fade. Wrinkles and scars merged with sallow flesh tones until these too began to lose clarity as my arm continued its dance skywards. It was as if the two of them – my arm and the sky – had become two lovers intent on elopement, so focussed on their future that the past became a discarded book, or, perhaps more accurately, a closed chapter, and one to which they would never return.

A hole has opened up. A hole large enough for an arm – my arm – to pass through, and yet not too small for me to be able to pick it out amongst the clouds which skid past like children making their excited journeys home. Gradually its blueness darkens to a rich, bruise-like purple, before intensifying to the colour of an over-ripe aubergine. Its edges are saw-like and my one hope is that my arm will pass through unscathed: I shudder uncontrollably at the thought of flesh being torn from muscle, and the jagged cut that will never fully heal. My fears, however, prove to be unfounded as I watch first my fingers, then my hand and then my wrist disappear, almost reluctantly, as if this were the moment that there was a realisation of what they were leaving behind, into the chasm. This was clearly not the time for reflection, however, as I watched, still silently motionless, as my forearm, elbow and finally my upper arm were swallowed by the darkness which oozed from the hole.

Like a stuffed mouth the gaping hole closed quickly upon itself, leaving nothing more than a self-satisfied grin, which proceeded to vanish as quickly as it had appeared, leaving only the blue of a late Summer’s afternoon before my eyes. My arm had left me.

The Hawthorne Project (out now)

For all lovers of dark and mysterious tales why not check out the latest publication from Raw Earth Ink – it’s got me hooked!

Havoc and Consequence

The neighborhood of west Hawthorne Drive in quiet Greenfield Wisconsin is filled with dark stories and darker rumors. There’s the haunting by a faceless creature. They’ve all seen it. They’ve all experienced its presence. On the one hand, it seems to desire the life of mortals, on the other, it befriends a small boy. It both mocks and assists. Runs away and stands face-to-faceless face.

And not to mention the mysterious death of the street’s namesake, Jim Hawthorne. His strange and reclusive widow peers from behind her drawn curtains, rarely leaving her home, but to walk her little dog or tend her manicured gardens… yet she’s not one for giving up any of the cul-de-sac’s secrets.

But in the days leading up to Halloween, events take a more sinister turn, including strange visitations, an eerie violet haze in the sky, attempting murder, breaking-and-entering, and multiple police check-ins… until not one…

View original post 44 more words

Inuit Prayer

Tags

Belief, creative, faith, hope, Incantation, Inuit, Inuit Prayer, nature, poems, poetry, Prayer, song, verse, writing

Taken from my poetry collection ‘Falling Sleet’ (ISBN:

978-1-6780-8799-9) which is available at various online sites.

Soon the fish will come.

Soon the seals will dance beneath the ice.

A warmer glory will rise,

Pale against the pastel

Cold blue backdrop.

Softer fingers will reach out,

A gentle touch of life

And fire withheld.

The wasteland empty, frozen,

Will not relent its heart

Give up or give out.

But gone the icy welcome,

A knife cut razor glare

Usurped by lucid reason.

And soon the fish will come.

And soon the seals will dance.