Author: Larry Rodness
Series: Stand Alone
Genre: YA Supernatural/Vampires/Paranormal
Publisher: Itoh Press
Release Date: Dec 2012
Edition/Formats Available In: eBook & Print
Blurb
18 year old Emylene Stipe, a 2nd generation Goth, is shaken
to the core when her make-believe world turns out to be real.
A supernatural fiction about a 2nd generation teenage Goth
teen named Emylene Stipe who finds a charcoal sketch in an antique shop. When she
brings it home an image of a young girl appears in the sketch and then materializes in her
apartment. Emylene introduces this girl whom she nick-names ‘Poinsettia’, to the local Goth crowd and
the two become fast friends. But Poinsettia has an ulterior motive for her sudden and strange
intrusion into Emylene’s life which causes Emylene to question her whole belief system.
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Excerpt
The next day Emylene returned to the antique shop to find the
sketch sitting on the dusty floor, against the grimy picture window. The artist
had framed the scene by drawing a weathered old wooden fence that zigzagged
from the foreground all the way to a line of trees that met the horizon. In the
center of the sketch stood a great cypress tree surrounded by a blanket of
pristine snow. The sketch was serene and unsettling at the same time, evocative
but distant—just the right mix of perversity for the heartsick Goth.
Her mind made up, Emylene pushed open the paint-peeled door
that creaked as if it objected to the intrusion. The air inside hung heavy with
the smell of melancholia. This was not so much a store as a graveyard of
forgotten relics. If that wasn't bad enough, Emylene sensed an air of gloom
emanating from the shopkeeper himself who was behind his counter, staring
sour-faced at her. He was a tall, gaunt man in his seventies with wispy grey
hair who had lived in the district for over thirty years and suffered them
all—the druggies, the hookers, and the hustlers. He took one look at Emylene
and made up his mind about her before she said a single word: Goths. If they
were so in love with death, why didn't they just slit their wrists and let the
rest of us get on with our own miserable lives? Nevertheless, Emylene greeted
him with a cheery hello.
"Hey there. The picture in the window, the one with the
tree? How much?" she asked.
The storeowner stared at Emylene at first with curiosity, and
then with disdain. "A million dollars," he replied. "You got a
million dollars?"
Emylene offered her prettiest smile while she lifted the
picture from the floor and eyeballed it like an appraiser from Sotheby's.
"I don't have that much, but I'll give you a
hundred," she offered.
"You really want it? Tell you what. You come back here
tomorrow…”
Emylene knew what was coming next.
"…dressed from head to toe in white. You wipe all that
black polish off your nails and the paint off your face, and you come here
dressed like…"
"…like a little lady?" asked Emylene.
"Yes, like that, and she's yours."
"See you tomorrow then," she sang as she left the
shop.
Although she had never met this man before Emylene knew him
all too well. This man was afraid of something and desperate to keep control of
his domain. To do that, he needed to demystify Emylene by degrading and shaming
her into showing that beneath all the make-up and the gear, that she was as
dull and ordinary as he was. Emylene needed to show him that no one was going
to push her around.
The next day Emylene returned to the store as requested,
wearing the only white dress she owned—an exact replica of the bridal gown Miss
Lucy was buried in, after Dracula turned her into a vampyre. When Emylene
stepped across the threshold of the store, she looked more frightening than she
did in anything she had worn in black, and the look on the store owner's face
instantly faded to the same pallor of white as the dress. As Emylene approached
him she slowly opened her hand.
The owner drew back, fully expecting to find a beating heart
pumping away in her little palm. Instead were five twenties. He hesitated a
moment, wondering whether to deny her the purchase, but instead, he scooped up
the bills. Emylene took the picture and exited the store. Not a word was said between
the two.
When Emylene returned to her apartment, she looked around for
just the right place to hang the sketch. There really was only one place for
it. A nail went into the plaster with two bangs of a hammer and the picture was
hung upon the wall opposite the main door of the apartment so that it would be
the first thing she'd see upon entering, and the last thing upon leaving.
That done, Emylene took a moment to appreciate her new
acquisition. Ignoring the slap-dash method with which the simple brush strokes
were applied, she concentrated on the basic elements of the scene—a rickety
wooden fence that zigzagged all the way back to a line of trees in the distant
horizon. A few wavy strokes indicating a blanket of unblemished snow, and of
course, the lone cyprus. That was all and yet, there seemed more although she
couldn't put her finger on what, exactly. But then, because even Goths get
hungry, Emylene stripped off Miss Lucy's bridal gown and bounced downstairs to
grab a sub.
It was 8:15 when she returned. When her world changed. When
the glorious mystery of the picture began to reveal itself. When she gazed upon
her new treasure and noticed for the first time footprints in the snow that
were not there before.
Author Bio
Larry Rodness
began his entertainment career as a professional singer at the age of 19 and
has been performing in Toronto for over 35 years with his wife and singing
partner, Jodi, at venues such as The Old Mill, Royal York Hotel, Skyline and
Bristol Place Hotel as well as countless corporate and private functions.
In the 80's Larry studied musical theatre writing with PRO
under Broadway conductor Layman Engel, which led him to write for dinner
theater. He then moved into the screenplay arena where he has written over a
dozen screenplays and has had 3 scripts optioned to date. In the past 2 years
he has also become a published novelist.
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