Friday 28 November 2014

CLEANER II: Prologue - Part Two



KATHERINE

Katherine’s landline handset was on the outside ledge of the kitchen window and when it started to bleat it took four or five rings before she even registered it was hers. That made her hurry to snatch it up, creaking her back as she got back up to her feet from the kneeling pad she’d been using in front of her roses. For all nine steps from the flowerbed to the back wall she knew that it was Dahlia, finally, calling her back (it had, after all, been twenty one missed calls now), but the number on the little grey screen wasn’t Dahlia’s mobile, nor was it a local number. It had a London area code.

“Hello?”

“Katherine?”

Her brow contracted towards what would have become a frown as she tried to recognise the voice from that one spoken word, then it came to her. “Tommy? Is that you?”

“Yep. Sorry to bother you.”

Tommy was Dahlia’s agent and the jolt of quickening Katherine had felt at the belief that Dahlia herself was calling was accelerated still further. Tommy had been in regular contact back in the not too distant heyday of Dahlia’s modelling career, but nowadays he didn’t tend to call. Especially in these troubling times, Katherine’s first assumption was that it was bad news. The photo shoot had been yesterday. Dahlia’s career was meant to be getting the bump it needed to jump back onto the tracks and hurtle back toward prestige and stardom, but with the current decline of her mental state and her overeating, it couldn’t have gone well and Katherine feared the worst. With the morbidly pessimistic route her worrying had carried her lately, if anything, she feared calamity.

The phrases pounced out of her, one after another without a beat between them for inhalation. “What’s wrong? Is Dahlia okay? What’s happened?”

Tommy exhaled in a generous enough rush of air to carry the sound down the phone line. “She’s okay as far as I know,” he said. “I mean, she drove off okay yesterday after the... Well, we didn’t really have a photo shoot in the end.”

Katherine allowed herself a little nod at the confirmation of her supposition. “What happened?”

“It was a disaster. She may have burned her boats, at least with that magazine. It would have been better if she didn’t turn up at all.”

“What did she do?”

“Have you seen her lately?”

Katherine pictured her worn and desperate face again, shouting at her in the hospital corridor. “Not for a few days.”

“Well she’s really let herself go. It was shocking. She must have been at least a stone heavier. Her clothes weren’t on straight. Her hair and make-up were... Well, she looked terrible.”

“You know about her brother, Steven? Did she tell you?”

Pause. “Yeah. Yeah, she did. So I understand, you know? I do understand. She should have cancelled. Nobody would have blamed her for that. She could have salvaged something then – set up another shoot.”

“Tommy, I don’t mean to be obtuse, but at this point, my lowest concern is whether Dahlia can restart her modelling career. I think it was the increasing pressure of that that got her in the state she’s in in the first place.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m being a dick. It’s just instinct. My mouth blabs on about the business without me even knowing. You’re right. And I’m just as concerned about her as you are.”

Katherine knew that couldn’t be true, but she said nothing. She was thinking.

“Tell me what’s going on,” said Tommy. “What else do you know? I know losing her brother must have been bad but Dahlia hasn’t been right for... well, since...”

“Since her parents were killed.”

“Yeah. I guess.” A moment of silence as the pieces slotted into place in his mind. “When she... flipped.”

“Her breakdown.”

“When she went into hospital.”

“Yes.”

“Another long silence.

“What happened at the photo shoot?” asked Katherine.

“She... They said she couldn’t do it. Weren’t too nice about the fact she’d put on weight. It didn’t help that she was so late. And she looked... Her face... I talked to her afterwards, at the car, and... She isn’t right. Is she?”

“No.” Katherine regarded her roses. The wind was picking up, knocking them backward and forwards.

“I tried to talk to her; you know; offer some help; but she drove off. I’ve been trying to call.”

“No answer.”

“No. Sent some texts. No reply. I thought I’d call you.”

“She hasn’t been in touch.”

“Have you been up there?” asked Tommy. “I’d nip round if I was local but...”

The question pinched Katherine between two great guilty claws, and suddenly the justifications she’d had for not driving up to Summertop seemed vacuous and poorly constructed. “No. She... Dahlia told me to stay away.”

“So she’s all by herself?”

Again, the justified pinch, sharp this time; cutting deeper. She thought of Melissa. She thought of Melissa agreeing to help divert Dahlia from her descending path of withdrawal from the outside world, smiling at Katherine as she promised to do her best and then very obviously went inside the house to do the opposite.

“I’m not sure,” said Katherine.

There was another silence but it was all too clear what bristled within it: the stark condemnation from Tommy that Katherine was wasting time in her garden while Dahlia needed her and the anger Katherine levelled at herself for doing just that.

“Don’t you think that...”

“I have to go up there. I shouldn’t have put it off.”

“Well if you see her—”

“Sorry Tommy. I have to go. Sorry. I have to go now.”

He said something else but Katherine didn’t hear and she didn’t care what it was. She ended the call and hurried inside, dropping the handset down so carelessly that she didn’t even realise that she’d done it.

She found her handbag, didn’t bother with her coat; checked the car keys were inside; didn’t bother changing out of the grubby gardening clothes she was wearing; didn’t even think to.

She ran out the front door, not noticing that the lock didn’t fully engage and again, not caring, and rushed to her car.

All she could think about was Dahlia’s red-rimmed eyes; her desperate and tattered expression in that hospital corridor; and the image she’d conjured in response to Tommy’s description.

Her instincts were working again, hurling up new worst case scenarios made material from dread and pessimism. She had the sense that something momentous and awful had happened already; that she had already missed the one chance she had to divert it; but she also knew that she had to try. She had to get up there to Summertop and try to divert whatever dreadful new turn of events must surely be unravelling before it was too late.

Even if it was already far too late and nothing could be done.

Wednesday 26 November 2014

LADY ANN'S FOLLY: Chapter Seven - Part Three

“Undressed miss?” asked Nellie, her voice quivering.

“Yes please. And move quickly,” replied Hattie, stepping clear.

The maid stood indecisively. “Right now miss? Here?”

“Yes, quickly,” said Hattie, a little impatiently. She was nervous enough going through with this without having to mollycoddle the ignorant girl.

Where Ann had always shown a snippy petulance and irritation to servants, Hattie’s way had been cool indifference. She didn’t care for the servants in any way, obviously – that would be plain odd – but she understood people enough to know that caution of manner could beget better results at times. Seeing the worry in Nellie’s features she smoothed out the wrinkles in her voice and said, “It’ll be perfectly alright Nellie. We’re going to have a little fun together; play dress up. Did you ever play dress up when you were a little girl?”

The maid smiled shyly. “My sisters and me used to put on me mam’s dresses from time to time.”

“Good. Well this is just like that. We’re about to try out something incredible but first of all we need to swap clothes.”

“Beggin yer pardon miss, but do you mean you’re going to put on my uniform?”

Hattie regarded the black and white dress and apron with some reservations. “Yes. That’s exactly what I mean. Now come on, let’s get started, shall we?” She started removing her own clothes and moving a few feet away, Nellie did the same.

Soon they were down to their underwear, Nellie standing extremely self-consciously, arms curled round her chest, Hattie more boldly, hands resting on her hips.

Now that she was in process with this plan, her cockiness had ebbed somewhat. At its conception she’d been convinced of its superiority to her sister’s preparations, but now it was about to actually happen she could spot a variety of logical holes. It was starting to make more sense to her to pull back, perhaps even abandon the whole thing, or at least postpone it for a few days. Though there was a time limit of sorts. Her uncle and aunt were leaving on Friday and it was already Tuesday night. She needed them here to put the third stage of her plan into place and any postponement was going to increase the likelihood of a problem.

“Take off your underwear now girl,” said Hattie, forcing herself to do the same. She decided to be sure her in herself, that was all. Confidence was a decision. She was doing this differently than Ann had. Things weren’t going to go wrong.

As she got closer and closer to being naked though, her own tension increased. Nellie was clearly concerned about propriety but at least she didn’t yet believe Hattie’s claims of magical powers. Hattie didn’t have the protection of ignorance. Getting closer and closer to the physical reality of becoming this girl was scaring her to death.

As Nellie removed the last of her garments and stood there looking entirely uncomfortable, Hattie sized her up, taking stock of her physical properties.

Nellie was medium height and not unattractive, but there was a banality to her features, her rather overlarge nose and long thin face, the lack of prominence to her chin. Her limbs were skinny but she carried some fat around her middle. Despite that, her complexion was clear and her blond hair was pleasing to the eye. She was nice enough looking to net a husband, Hattie supposed, but not a very handsome one.

By contrast, Hattie knew how striking she herself was. She and Ann were cut from the same cloth, though she was a little shorter and more full figured. Unlike this girl, her form was well-proportioned, her waist slim, her hips wide, her bosom generously modest. Her dark hair was soft and shiny.

Even though she knew it was so, the idea of really turning into this girl was awe-inspiring and again, Hattie received a shudder of misgiving. It might be embarrassing in a way to back out now but that was far better than the result of things going awry.

She thought about Burt, the stable hand, wondering again if that really was her sister, trapped indefinitely in the role and personality of a base-born servant. She swallowed, considering just such an end coming to herself.

Perhaps she should cut this first part out of her plan. She didn’t need to become the maid. Couldn’t the trade be done differently?

But no. It couldn’t really. In order for her to achieve her ends, she had to become this girl for just a short time.

Nellie looked at her expectantly, trying to cover her chest and crotch unsuccessfully and clearly feeling very much ill-at-ease.

Hattie toyed with the last of her underwear, giving herself just another few moments to reconsider, then she steeled herself and handed Nellie the fine undergarment. “Here,” she said perfunctorily. “Put this on and hand me yours. We don’t have time to waste.”


Nellie nodded as though her own death sentence had just been pronounced and did as she was told. 

Tuesday 25 November 2014

CLEANER: The Search for Melissa

Okay.

So now that Cleaner Part Two has started, I need to start thinking about cover images, and I think you'll agree that a good picture of Melissa would be nice.

The problem is that I have searched round for ages already and can't find one that I like. I'm very picky you see and it needs to match the image I have for her as well as having an expression, clothing and background that match the story's themes.

So I thought it might be a good idea to throw a challenge out there to see if any of you guys can find a picture that I could use!

If anyone is up for that then I'd be really grateful and you'd get to be able to brag to all your friends about being the one who found the new cover picture.

What I'm Looking For 

So images we currently have for Melissa are these:





We're looking for a photgraph of a woman who looks like that. 

She could be dressed as a cleaner but doesn't need to be. Far more important is the expression on her face and the background. 

My current thought is to have a similar look to the picture we have of Dahlia - that kind of pensive or forlorn look. Thoughtful. In two minds. 



So have a go at finding one if it takes your fancy. 

I'll need to veto a lot of the suggestions I get most likely (it has to match my mental image), so don't be put out if I do, but it'll sure be nice to find a picture for her to use as that second cover. 

Thanks all! 


Emma



Monday 24 November 2014

CLEANER II: Prologue - Part One



KATHERINE 

Katherine had told herself that after the fifteenth missed call she would go round there and knock on the door, despite Dahlia’s clear instruction that she didn’t want to be disturbed. Ever again.

But the fifteenth call came and went and still she didn’t drive up to Summertop.

She knew she should, that was the thing. She knew there was the potential for actual physical danger to her employer.

... Former employer...

And certainly danger to her fragile psyche...

But Katherine was just as afraid that any further pressure from her would be enough to split Dahlia’s mind wide open, where up to now there were only hairline cracks.

At the start of each day she told herself she would go but immediately after the resolution she would remember Dahlia’s red-rimmed eyes and desperate expression at the hospital after her brother died, as she told her to leave her alone. It couldn’t have been clearer. And though the admonition hadn’t been enough to stop Katherine sending texts of support and voicemails promising succour, she hadn’t physically made the journey. She hadn’t gone up to Dahlia’s house to see her face to face.

It was the phone call that finally clinched it; that sent Katherine hurtling finally, over the river from Nockton Vale and up the valley wall into Pinecrest village.

Days had gone by since Steven’s death and when it became clear that Dahlia wasn’t getting back to the hospital about his body; that she hadn’t called an undertaker and obviously wasn’t going to; Katherine had interceded. Of course. And happily. Katherine had worked as Dahlia’s assistant for sixteen years and, especially after her husband’s death, she felt as close to her as family. She didn’t have anyone else. And Steven was part of that family; someone she saw regularly and respected immensely.

In fact Katherine had very quietly but unreservedly been in love with him. Not in a way that would have ever made her say anything to him. That wouldn’t have felt... appropriate. But she had enjoyed the sight of him and the sound of him and, if she was lucky, the smell of him when he passed close by, oblivious to her little fantasies. It was why his death had been as awful for her almost as it would have if her own brother had died; why Dahlia’s rejection right afterwards had hurt all the more.

As soon as she understood that things needed doing that weren’t being done, she had called Dahlia, knowing the phone wouldn’t be picked up, and left a message to explain that she needn’t worry; that everything would be taken care of. Then she had ended the call and cried for a little while; only long enough to release the worst of the emotional build-up; nothing indulgent. She wasn’t the type for that; not when there was work to be done. A quick swipe of each eye and it was straight on to the phone again, dialling the number of a local undertaker and getting things organised; calling the hospital right afterwards.

It didn’t matter that Dahlia had fired her. Katherine didn’t need the money. Well over five years had gone by since she had admitted to herself that she would have gone on working for Dahlia for free; admitted that she loved the beautiful young woman like a daughter. But again, she would never have said such a thing to her. Propriety was one consideration; but more, it was the fear that a statement of that nature might imbalance the delicate state their relationship had and irrevocably change it.

How simple words were – just intangible vibration in the air – but their power was immense and oftentimes destructive. Better to continue with the banter and keep the real emotions close and secret, as she always did.

It was heartbreaking to be pushed away now, especially at this time when Dahlia needed her more than ever, but what could she do? It couldn’t be clearer that she wasn’t wanted; that she was making things worse. If the younger woman needed to continue with her... escapism games... then maybe that should be respected.

It was all the cleaner’s fault – Katherine was sure of that.

Melissa.

She wasn’t the cause of Dahlia’s underlying problems – that was the slow accrual of personal loss and the ebbing away of self-worth – but the solution the cleaner was offering could only be transient, and surely did more harm than good in the long run.

Or maybe dressing up and pretending to be someone else was the perfect escape from a fraught life. Katherine didn’t know; couldn’t know; but her instincts had only let her down a handful of times in her long years and they told her three things now like they were screaming at her...

That Dahlia was in serious trouble.

That swapping places with her cleaner, even for brief periods, would do more harm to her than good in the long run.

And that Melissa couldn’t be trusted. That she was only taking advantage of her employer’s fragile emotional state.

And it was while dwelling on this gut feeling for the thousandth time, while she pottered needlessly at the flowerbeds in her neat over-tended little garden, that Katherine received the call that finally pushed her into action; that got her into the car and driving, determined finally to do something; anything she could; to pull Dahlia back from the edge of that abyss she was skirting before it was too late.

Sunday 23 November 2014

CLEANER PART TWO IS COMING!!!!!!!!

Hi Finn Fans!

It is with great pleasure that I announce that the first episode of Cleaner Part Two will be coming out tomorrow night.



I was busy fannying around and not doing much of anything when I suddenly realised the story I most wanted to tell was of what happens next in the epic journey of our thin and fat protagonists. As such, I've just written the first two parts of the prologue and in a minute I'll be starting episode three.

The story will carry on straight after events in part one so if you haven't finished reading part one yet then you'd better get on with it. There will be spoilers right from the start for the previous book and it would be a shame to ruin the story for you. And obviously there's no way you'd be able to follow the action in book two without reading book one first.

To the people who weren't planning to buy the book and hoped to read the rest of the serial for free, I can only apologise. My gut is telling me to get on with the sequel right away and I always try to listen when my gut is talking. It knows what it's talking about.

The good news is that Cleaner Part One is available as an eBook and paperback for not very much money at all from Amazon, iBooks, Smashwords and Barnes & Noble. You can get it right now and enjoy reading the rest of of the book today.

To those of you who have already bought and devoured part one of the Cleaner trilogy, I send you my thanks and say that your enthusiasm is about to be rewarded.

Keep reading and keep commenting and do leave a review if you can.

Have a nice day and enjoy the coming storyline.


Emma 

Friday 21 November 2014

CLEANER: Chapter Eight - Part Two

DAHLIA

I hesitated before opening the front door, wary that I might draw it back to find myself facing somebody I knew: Katherine, Tommy, my brother, the milkman, anybody. I looked down at myself again, feeling my new self-image sink in that little bit deeper.

Then I walked away from the door and circled behind the stairs, heading for the side entrance. Partly because from the side of the house I could get a better view of the front approach; enough to dodge back if anybody was there. Partly because... because it suited my sordid little masquerade.

I opened the much smaller door and slipped out, creeping warily along the side of the house, relieved that no one was visible. I regarded my car: a sporty little cherry red convertible, wishing it weren’t so flashy; so incongruent with my new look. It was tempting to walk down to the bus stop as Melissa had done, but that sounded like too little control for my liking. At least for now. The car didn’t matter.

I got in and self-consciously drove it to the lip of the drive; looked both ways. The lane was clear. I checked my face in the mirror, getting a shiver of nervousness and pleasure to see my glasses, my dark fringe.

Was I really doing this?

It was about the craziest thing I’d ever done. But I wanted it so badly now, I didn’t think I could have turned round. I was going to do this and I wasn’t going to question it. If I wanted to throw up from the delayed stress when I got home, that was fine. For now I was one hundred percent in the moment. It was just like my TV appearances or walking down the catwalk. I had to suspend all fear, at least as long as the moment lasted.

I pushed down on the accelerator and turned out in the road.

Suddenly I was required to look at things further off than I was used to and the mild prescription on my glasses became a problem as my eyes struggled to adjust. I slowed, squinting, forcing my eyes to get used to it, punting along at a safe speed while they did so.

It was difficult for a moment – I almost reached to take them off – but as I persevered, I gained in confidence; the distance vision swept into better focus; the faster I felt I could drive.

I passed through the village and made my way down to the bridge into the back of Barton; took the turn, my nervousness stepping up a notch.

I wished I wasn’t driving my swanky car. If it wasn’t for that then I’d already look and feel exactly as though I lived here among the rundown buildings and dirty streets. Perhaps I should buy something cranky and second-hand... for if I dared to do this another time.

But of course I was going to do it again. It wasn’t a plan as such; not yet; but my body was alight. Why wouldn’t I want to repeat such an absorbing experience over and over as often as possible?

The streets were as narrow and difficult to navigate as ever but it was always easier to work one’s way in than out. The spiral of roads drew me in gradually; inexorably; until I reached the centre of Barton and the big open air car parks. I found a space quite far away from the shops and parked up, sitting for several minutes with my hands on the steering wheel before I could pick up enough courage to proceed.

My rate of breathing was elevated. I slowed it, closing my eyes, reminding myself of the inner calm I had decided on as I started my journey. It was harder than I expected, but not impossible. I was in control of this situation. I didn’t know anyone in Barton. Even if I saw someone, they would never recognise me in this get-up.

I turned off the engine and opened the door. Again I sat there, putting off the moment of egress as one minute became two and then three.

Then I got out, standing awkwardly on the gravel surface and looking out across the car park. There were a few people around. No one paid me particular attention. If they had, what would they have thought? What was a cleaning woman doing driving a convertible? Probably.

I paid for a parking ticket and put it on the dashboard then locked the car and stepped reluctantly away. I kept looking back as I drew off, the urge to return and get back inside strong. But I didn’t. I went on walking and as I did, my awareness of my mode of dress expanded again. The shabby off-white coat. The cleaner’s uniform showing underneath. The matching cheap-looking shoes. The swing of my bobbed hair as I walked. The glasses on my face distorting my vision.

More people were ahead through the gap into the street. Several people were emerging from the adjoining alley, walking toward me.

I tightened up, seeing them, knowing they would see me; potentially judge me. This was the moment, right now, when others would see me dressed in this ridiculous outfit; would recognise who I really was and laugh at me, or... or not.

But they barely even looked at me. They came closer and then passed by without even a glance at my face. The collision I had expected, one way or the other, ended without any kind of interaction really at all. It left me momentarily deflated, until I realised the profundity of the experience and a buzzing tingle ran from the back of my neck to my heels.

By their very indifference they had confirmed the validity of my disguise. They had shown no reaction in either direction because to them I was just another lowly Bartonite heading into town to do some shopping; a cleaner on her way home from her shift.

My transformation had worked! I had really become an ordinary woman as far as anyone else could tell.


And now it was time to immerse myself fully in that experience. 

Wednesday 19 November 2014

LADY ANN'S FOLLY: Chapter Seven - Part Two

Nellie Barrow did not feel at all comfortable.

As the newest member of indoor staff she still felt very uncomfortable being called up to assist one of the Neville family without any of the other servants there for guidance. She was still very much on trial and any kind of error on her part could easily lead to her dismissal. She didn’t know the layout of the manor well enough yet and she didn’t understand all of the house traditions. In fact it had unsettled her to be sent up at all. She didn’t think it was ready.

Worst was that she had been summoned to Lady Harriet’s room by the bell and as she’d the kitchens to go up, Lottie had giggled and said, “Be careful of that one. Lady Ann can be as nasty as the Devil himself but that one’s the one who scares me.”

All the way upstairs, Nellie had thought about that, trying to understand what it meant and becoming progressively apprehensive. She was only a maid. She didn’t understand rich folk. She wondered if she was even cut out for serving work. She was far too anxious to cope with the tension.

When she reached Lady Harriett’s door and was called in, she moved with cautious trepidation, eyes wide, shoulders slightly hunched, almost as though she might at any moment be struck. “Good evening m’lady,” she said. “How can I ‘elp you?”

Hattie gave her a strange look. “It’s more a case of how I can help you. Sit down.”

Nellie’s eyes went even wider.

“It’s alright,” said Hattie. “I want to talk to you.”

Feeling even more ill at ease, Nellie took a seat on the edge of a chair, hands clasped in her lap. She gave Hattie a little smile but questioned herself immediately as to whether it was appropriate and concluded it wasn’t. Hattie regarded her quietly for the better part of a minute then started to speak.

“You name is Nellie. Is that correct?”

Nellie nodded. “Yes m’lady.”

“And how do you find your life as a maid?”

Nellie wondered if the question should be answered directly and truthfully who whether the lady only wanted to hear a positive response. “I’m very happy miss, and grateful for the opportunity to work for such an illustrious family.”

“You can tell me how you really feel Nellie. I won’t tell you off.”

Nellie looked stricken, thinking about Lottie’s warning as she was leaving the kitchen. “Honestly miss. I enjoy me duties.”

“It must be difficult in a new post to understand what is expected of you. I expect you worry you might get things wrong and be dismissed.”

The accuracy of Hattie’s assessment unnerved Nellie but it also made her feel more at ease. The pretty lady certainly seemed to understand what life was like in service. Perhaps Lottie was wrong about her after all. “It can be challengin’,” said Nellie reluctantly.

“And it must be awful to be ordered about all day I expect,” said Hattie.

“Well... It’s just life miss, in’it?”

“Hmmm. I suppose you could say that. But what would you say if I offered you the chance to experience a different life for a short time?”

Nellie frowned, unsure. “Beggin your pardon m’lady, but I don’t quite follow.”

Hattie smiled. “I need your assistance with a little trick I’m going to play,” she said. “On my father.”

“The Earl?” asked Nellie fearfully.

“Yes. The Earl. That’s right.” Hattie’s smiled became more mingled with mirth and excitement.

“I’ll do anything you need me to do miss, of course,” said Nellie, eager to please, “but if you don’t mind my saying I’m not sure his lordship would approve of me being involved in a...”

“A trick.”

“That’s right miss. I wouldn’t want to get in trouble. This position means everything to me. I couldn’t lose it.”

“I understand Nellie,” replied Hattie. “And I can assure you, this won’t get you in trouble as long as you follow my instructions to the letter.”

Nellie eyed Lady Harriet tremulously, her untried instincts telling her that this was a bare-faced lie, but she daren’t go against the good lady. “Very well miss. Just tell me what to do.”

Hattie smiled. “Good girl.” She straightened. “For my trick to work I need to take a series of actions, the first of which involves you.”

Nellie nodded.

 “Do you believe in magical enchantment Nellie?”

The skinny girl considered again whether to answer truthfully or to say the answer she thought the lady wanted to hear. Before she could make her decision, Hattie continued, taking out a little box with a hinged lid and opening it to reveal an odd pendant.

“This item holds a powerful enchantment Nellie. It holds the power to allow two people to give their bodies in trade to one another. This is what I want you to do. I want you to lend me your body for a while so that I can play my trick. In the meantime I will leave you here safely in mine.”

“Goodness gracious,” said Nellie, not knowing what to believe. “Surely you don’t... You don’t mean for that to really happen?”


Hattie got to her feet, still smiling. “Well we won’t know until we try, will we?” Her smiled broadened. “Get undressed.” 

Tuesday 18 November 2014

Should CLEANER 1 Continue as a Serial?

Okay readers, this is the question of the hour...

Now that the book of Cleaner is available, should I continue posting the serial episodes or stop and skip to book 2? 

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Cleaner-Part-Dark-Tales-Transformation-ebook/dp/B00PO95688/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1416317924&sr=8-1&keywords=emma+finn+cleanerI guess there are three types of reader:

1) They won't buy the book and want to go on reading the free serial

2) They bought the book and want to get on to the next story

3) They bought the book but would go on following the serial too


Now, I could stop the Cleaner serial here and get straight on with Cleaner 2 (or potentially a different serial for a change).

I'm going to list the factors and then take a vote in the comments.

If you're the kind of reader or tends not to leave comments then you can always email me using the link above. If you don't get in touch then you won't be heard so do let me know your views..

So...

  • Right now I don't have any episodes written of Lady Ann, Cleaner 2 or Sixth Guest so it'll be a challenge to build up the momentum again - though possible.
  • I haven't outlined Cleaner 2 yet so might need a break anyway while I do that.
  • The book of Cleaner 1 isn't very expensive at all so I'm not screwing people over too much by not publishing the whole thing for free as planned.
  • If I go straight on with Cleaner 2 I won't be able to work on Eyes of the Hawk and A New You 2 as easily. That was what I was going to do next. I'll still write them but not as soon.
  • If I set a precedent where I stop releasing a serial when the book comes out then will people stop following the serials? 
  • If I don't continue with the serial then I miss out on getting comments (which is a great pleasure of mine) 
  • ... though I could evilly demand that I'll only go on writing Cleaner 2 if all followers leave a review on Amazon... (diabolical laughter)  


So basically, I'm in two minds. Let's hear what you have to say on the subject.  That may well sway me, one way or the other.

Sunday 16 November 2014

CLEANER: The Novel - Part One - NOW AVAILABLE!!!!!

It's finally up there folks! Two months later than advertised, but finally ready for you to read!


Cleaner Part One is now available as an eBook!

So if you can't wait for the serial to end then now's your chance to get hold of it.

It's been tidied up and streamlined from the original web version too so this is the definitive edition you can read and reread in years to come.

This is Part One 

As I've mentioned before, this expanded version of Cleaner has grown so much that it won't fit into one book so this first release is the first part of three. I'll be releasing parts two and three as serials on this site in due course and then publishing them too when they're complete.

(I just don't want you to run and get this thinking it will end the story - there's a lot more to come in the future!)

What it Says on the Back of the Book 

“A MASTERWORK”

Dahlia Western is beautiful and wealthy. She seems to have everything, especially with her modelling career on the verge of a comeback. But Dahlia begins to develop a strange and erotic obsession with Melissa, her grossly obese cleaner, making her want to swap places with her, just for the day, and take on her simple life and duties.
Melissa is eager to take part and soon the two women are swapping clothes and identities, Dahlia becoming the cleaner while Melissa lounges about and swims in the pool. But this isn’t enough for Dahlia. She wants more, and as the days go on, the games become more elaborate with her taking on the submissive role and Melissa asserting her dominance.
As things go further and the pair run greater risk of discovery, repressed secrets in Dahlia’s past come to light that might just push her over the edge. The question now isn’t whether their odd arrangement will be discovered, but whether anything can stop them from taking it all the way.

“REALLY PUSHES THE BUTTONS OF ANYONE WHO RESPONDS TO EROTIC HUMILIATION”

How Much Does it Cost? 

The eBook is available for $2.99 or £1.94.

Bearing in mind that most transformation "novels" on Amazon are 20-60 pages long for the same price and this is 309 pages then you may agree that this constitutes a bargain.

When Will Other Formats be Available? 

I'm going to work on getting the hard copy format out ASAP. The paperback version should be out in a few days.

Where Can You Get It? 

Right now you can get the Kindle book on:



(Don't forget you can get a Kindle Reader free download from the Amazon site onto your computer and you can get the Kindle app on your smart phone or tablet.

And you can get all the following formats from Smashwords: 

PDF
RTF
Kindle
Plain Text
Online Reader
ePub

So basically, if you have a computer then you'll definitely be able to read it today.

Don't Forget to Leave a Review!!!!! 

Most importantly, don't forget to leave a review, and/or come back here and leave a comment!

Or email me and let me know what you think!