Whilst visiting Cornwall you should certainly head for Falmouth and Penryn on the south coast of the county, two well known harbour towns, both have long and interesting histories. Falmouth along with Carrick Roads is the deepest natural harbour in Western Europe and also the third deepest in the world. Now a popular holiday destination, Falmouth has 5 excellent beaches and numerous guest houses. Penryn situated on the River Penryn near to Falmouth is one of the oldest towns in Cornwall, it has many historic buildings, some dating back to Tudor times. During the 19th century Penryn was… Continue reading

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A county in the east of England, United Kingdom, Essex was a thriving area even before the arrival of the Romans in Britain, trade with the Roman Empire had seen the area grow rich under a tribe called the Trinovantes. Subsequently Essex and Suffolk were early targets for the Roman invasion under Claudius in AD43. Colchester soon became the capital of Roman Britain, and Chelmsford also played an important role, with a fort established there. Even what are now classed as new towns, such as Harlow saw Roman settlements in those early days, with a Roman fort being… Continue reading

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The county of Hertfordshire, England lies to the north of Greater London and many of its towns serve as commuter towns for the great city itself. Among these towns are the county town Hertford, a historic town with a population of around 30,000 inhabitants. The name of the town derives from the Anglo-Saxon for a ford visited by harts (or stags). Remains of Hertford Castle date from 1463, when it was rebuilt by King Edward IV, later the English Parliament moved to the town temporarily when London was hit by the Great Plague. Another nearby town, Ware, has… Continue reading

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DOMINION by Wayne Sharrocks

PROLOGUE
Sat hunched within the dark recess Karl Connor felt as small and vulnerable as a china doll. As what seemed like hours passed he could feel the welts from the cigarette burns rising up on his body, smarting, searing…

His body still hissed from the pain of her nails gouging his young and tender flesh. As dread washed through him, how he longed for a shining light in the great dark loneliness of human existence.

Terror began with the fact that he could hardly move. His mind wrestling with some unbalanced nightmare, whilst his body ached with cramps, knots in his muscles as the cupboard under the stairs was no more than three feet long, roughly the same in height and was crammed full of assorted bric-a-brac (a vivid testimony to his mother’s car-boot compulsion).

As his panic escalated with him, all his desires diminished to just the need to move, a desperate, overwhelming need to free himself from the dark and cramped conditions. As his mind fractured he tried to scream but found that he could not even speak. The unbearable stress shattering his logic to pieces, finally breaking him from reality as thoughts like moths fluttered through his mind, seeking light in his darkness.

The punishment was as if a tourniquet around his neck, strangling the life from him. His pallor ghostly, he began to writhe and squirm as his shoulders began to shake. His grief vast enough to bring down an empire, as the waiting silence dragged him down like exhausted sleep and his wanting; longing to be freed filled the space oppressively.

Crippled by fear he was suddenly aware of the darkness sucking him down.

Although he had long since managed to spit out the rag that was stuffed into his mouth to stifle his earlier protestations, his breath was still very shallow, trapped by the dull suffocating heat of the blackness that had encroached upon him. He found that his palms were sweating. He had gnawed at his knuckles until they bled, sucking at the warm blood that flowed from them as it were comforting nectar. Recoiling, his mind snatched feebly at passing thoughts whilst above him, he could hear the sound of the splintering wood and the creaking floorboards. He could hear his mother’s gin soaked voice echoing as she descended the wooden staircase, her rage biting deep.

‘Filthy, dirty boy, I told you he wasn’t right, he is the devil’s child. I should have had him aborted when I had the chance…’

Moments later he heard the catch being slid from the lock and the cupboard door sprang open, battering his eyes with light.

Springing back from the sudden brilliance, he flinched as the light scolded his vision, momentarily dazzling him.

A torch shone in his eyes but all he could see was the glare, burning his eyes and dragging him still further into his mother’s alcohol fuelled nightmare.

Her voice now seemed distant and slurred as she brandished the huge torch at him. Under the skin on the back of his neck, ticks of apprehension still burrowed and twitched, but heart pounding he unfurled from the fetal position that he had been forced into and achingly crawled out from the cupboard. His muscles and limbs screamed with every movement and the abrupt definition of sight stung his eyes, whilst his nerves were shredded and crippled by his own deceiving mind. Believing that to be the end of the punishment he began to apologize, even though he sensed that he done nothing wrong. As he spoke, there was a tremor in his voice, a fragility, not pain so much as emotional distress. The hardness of her heart frightened him. He had taken two faltering steps before he was doubled over, as if a hook had caught his stomach, knocking the air from him. The world had become too strange for him to fully comprehend, and as the large torch lay broken in pieces upon the threadbare carpet, he gazed meekly up at her, into a face set with thunder. He let out a cry of sheerest childlike terror but as he tried to kid himself into believing that life had a purpose worthy of his struggle he knew deep down that he would be made to pay further for his actions… Continue reading

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Extract from ’Redemption’ by Wayne Sharrocks

Chapter 1

I awoke trembling and sweating, the sheets soaking wet beneath me as my mind recalled the visions from the nightmare that had violently ripped me from my sleep. The recollections were sadly all too vivid as I had been fighting them all night, a battle I was destined to lose.

Damn, twenty years on and still the memory of those events would not fade. I felt the maelstrom of reproach and morbid regrets as every night seemed to rekindle old memories that I wished to leave behind and to deny the existance of. Sometimes I found myself closing my eyes and hiding away in the dark. I knew that there was a lot to be ashamed of in my life, but I just did not understand why these dark spectres from my past, kept invading my mind of late, now almost on a nightly basis. I always felt exhausted upon waking due to the upsetting dreams and unwelcome presences disrupting my slumber and I was now sick of continually waking up in cold sweats. I had always hoped that my mind would bury the experience if my will was strong enough, but alas it was not to be, as the scar tissue had peeled away, leaving me raw.

My temple was beginning to throb so I rolled over in bed, opened my eyes and looked across into the semi darkness at the illuminated face of the now buzzing alarm clock, which sat perched precariously upon the bedside table. It was pleading with me to arise. I looked at it for a few seconds, whilst attempting to focus my eyes and clear my head, before turning off its infernal din. I reluctantly slipped out from beneath the covers and headed towards the bathroom. Pulling on the cord to the light, I then recoiled at the vision that confronted me from the bathroom mirror. The fact that I’d had a restless night was etched into every pore and crevice of my milk white skin whilst my eyes were bloodshot and drowned in themselves.

I looked like Bela Lugosi, which was not necessarily so bad in itself, except for the fact that he’d been dead since 1956. I ran the taps, filling the wash basin, and splashed water onto my face in a vain effort to revive myself. My mouth was dry, filled with a sour taste, my teeth stained red…

www.amazon.co.uk/Redemption-Wayne-Sharrocks/dp/1843862549

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Author: Wayne Sharrocks
Title: Redemption

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