Peak at my Writing

Hey guys!

It’s been a while, but I decided to give you guys a little sample of my writing! Here is my most recent and polished first chapter of THE THING IN THE WIND, my horror novel I have been querying. Hope you guys enjoy it, and if you do, please like and comment, thank you so much ūüôā




Playing with fire always ends with a price.

Becca set up black candles in a circle on¬†Rosaleen¬†and Shae’s dorm floor. She lit each one, creating blue flames. Shae watched, studying the flames waving in the air and sharply, panic filled inside her.¬†The second Becca got up and turned off the lights, that was it. Shae had left.

Shae could feel it ending in fire. She disliked the darkness: spells, ghost hunting, Ouija boards, anything seeking the other sides. But on the other hand, those type of things were¬†Rosaleen¬†and Becca’s enjoyment. Doing things which included the darkness, gave the two of them a weird,¬†pleasurable thrill. They had gone ghost hunting and played with Ouija boards during sleepovers all throughout their younger days, and they waited for something to happen, but nothing odd ever did. Now a spell? Neither of them had ever done¬†it, even though witchcraft interested them massively.

Becca noticed Shae¬†leave¬†and said, “Looks like you won’t need your little nerd toy, Rose. When you laid that bomb on me before, you made me totally forget about this . . . If you do this, you won’t need her¬†as a cover up. So, you can ditch the little rat now.”

Rosaleen¬†thought back to earlier.¬†The smile Shae had had on her face when she agreed to go, was filled with so much excitement,¬†Rosaleen¬†couldn’t. “She’s still coming. What if this doesn’t work?”

Becca clamped her hands together and tilted her head to¬†the¬†side. “What? Is Rosaleen becoming a nerd again? Ditch her.”

Rosaleen¬†clenched her jaw. “Okay, if I ditch her, then you can go to this damn carnival yourself, how about that?” She sat down on the floor, ignoring Becca.

Steam rose in Becca‚Äôs¬†cheeks, she¬†smirked¬†then sat down next to¬†Rosaleen¬†and placed the book on her lap. As¬†Rosaleen¬†gazed at the book resting on Becca’s lap, she wasn’t sure if she could go through with this. The book was tilted,¬†Tome of Summoning Spells.¬† It looked ancient like it had been around for centuries. It was bound in leather, and the pages were worm-eaten, and stained yellowish brown, the edges ripped and torn. Her heart sped up with worry.

Rosaleen¬†nor Becca were experts on spells. What had possessed Becca to think she was some type of head witch? This type of act was what young teenagers do. Stupid and reckless. This year¬†Rosaleen¬†and Becca had just turned nineteen. They were adults, but neither of them felt like¬†adults.¬†Rosaleen¬†had no clue what she was doing here at college. Her heart still resembled¬†one of¬†a child’s. Any responsibility she wasn’t sure how to handle, she wished she could call up both of her parents and receive the answer, but now, her father was the only one. But dads don’t have every answer, and sometimes a girl needs their mother.

Rosaleen was doing everything on her own here: laundry, cleaning, cooking, and making phone calls. She was doing adult things, nonetheless, inside of her was clueless. No matter how old we are, nobody really knows what the hell we’re doing. The child we once were, never burns out.

But Becca was an actual child. She didn’t have that switch adults have. She couldn’t turn off the button¬†(immaturity)¬†whenever something adult came along. And here, as the two of them were sitting in the dark, surrounded by flaming candles with a dark,¬†spooky spell book on Becca’s lap,¬†Rosaleen’s¬†brain¬†was the only one who could¬†comprehend how this was out of their league.

Rosaleen¬†fought those thoughts aside and teased, “Where the hell did you get that? It looks like you got it from¬†Salem.”

Becca touched the spine of the book, feeling how much age had made it¬†timeworn. “I bought it downtown, at that shop that sells sage and witch stuff.”

With disbelief,¬†Rosaleen‚Äôs¬†eyebrows¬†flickered. “Why‚Äôd¬†ya¬†go all the way there?”

Becca cocked her head toward¬†Rosaleen. “I quickly went before I came here. I even took the bus-”

“Wow, Becca took the bus,”¬†Rosaleen¬†joshed.

“Shut up! Remember, I¬†don‚Äôt have a¬†license. And anyway, I couldn’t get Devon to take me. He would’ve thought I was nuts.”

“It’s okay.”¬†Rosaleen¬†smiled. “Now, I know what took you so long.”

Becca nodded and continued. “I could tell how much you needed this. You’re not the¬†greatest¬†flirt-”

Rosaleen’s¬†face turned beat¬†red. “Hey!”

Becca chuckled. “So, I know how much you like Jack . . . and I invited you in the first place.” She wouldn’t look¬†Rosaleen¬†directly in the eyes. “I owe you.”

Rosaleen¬†quickly fell in awe. She couldn’t believe Becca thought about someone other than herself. Becca had never done many things for¬†Rosaleen. She had given her birthday gifts, Christmas gifts, but she never¬†did¬†something out of kindness;¬†Rosaleen¬†was always the one who did.¬†Rosaleen¬†smiled wide, her face crinkling with unexpected happiness. “So, you think this spell‚Äôs going to work? Either of us has studied witchcraft,¬†ya¬†know?”

Becca¬†answered¬†with confidence,¬†“I’ve always wanted to. It can’t be hard. I know what I’m doing.”

Rosaleen shrugged.

“Anyway, maybe this will give you the confidence to realize how hot you really are.” Becca nudged¬†Rosaleen,¬†flicking¬†her eyebrows up and down.

Rosaleen¬†looked away, feeling that heat rising¬†again¬†in¬†her cheeks.¬†Rosaleen¬†had great cheekbones, a big chest, and lovely red hair. Becca had always been jealous of¬†Rosaleen¬†since the moment they met¬†in middle school. She felt insecure around her but never shown it. She had even wanted to dye her hair the same shade of red¬†Rosaleen¬†had, though she didn’t want to be known as a copier. Becca thought¬†Rosaleen¬†was a dime, but in¬†Rosaleen’s¬†mind, a dime was not what she was. On the other hand, Becca was no dime. Her face was too round and plain, and her breasts were small and oddly shaped. She had pretty hazel eyes, and her hair was straight, slick, and as black as¬†a starless sky. It was her I don’t give a damn attitude, playfulness, and outspokenness she used to win guys‚Äô¬†attention.

Becca opened up the book. Quickly, a swarm of dust clung to the air. Becca coughed as some of it went straight into her lungs. Dust ran¬†up¬†into¬†Rosaleen’s¬†nose, tickling it,¬†and she blew it out.

“Wow, this thing really is ancient,”¬†Rosaleen¬†said,¬†coughing.

“Yeah, isn’t it amazing?” Becca awed, eyeing the pages¬†astonished.

Now Becca began skimming through it. A chill crawled up¬†Rosaleen’s¬†spine as she saw it was all written in a different language. A language she had never seen before. Symbols were printed after some of the letters, giving the language a¬†much darker tone.

“It’s¬†not¬†written in¬†English. How are we going to be able to do this?”¬†Rosaleen¬†asked bewildered.

“Don’t worry, the hot guy who sold it to me told me the language.”

“Hot guy, Becca? What about Devon?”

Becca sighed, “I can still think other guys are hot, whether I have a boyfriend or not¬†. . . He really was.¬†He¬†had dark sexy¬†hair and you know how much I love that . . . and underneath his¬†clear¬†shirt he was wearing I could see a bunch of tattoos he was trying to hide.”

Rosaleen¬†rolled her eyes and then gave Becca a playful smile. “But I still don’t understand, what if we say the words incorrectly?”

Becca ignored her, gasped with excitement, and stopped on a page. “This is it!”

Narrowing her eyes,¬†Rosaleen¬†examined the page.¬†Rosaleen’s¬†eyes began to water. Within the light the candle lights were given, it looked as if¬†dark figures¬†were moving¬†and dancing¬†on the page.¬†Rosaleen¬†blinked and then they were gone. She swallowed and asked, “How do you know that’s the right one?”

“The hot guy told me.”

Rosaleen rolled her eyes again.

Becca went on. “I told¬†him,¬†I’m looking for a spell to make someone fall in love¬†. . .¬†it’s for a friend.”

“I’m sure he looked at you like you were crazy.”

“Nah, you should see that store. It’s filled with way weirder stuff than that. But whatever, I think he liked me anyway . . . So, he showed me this book and this exact page.”

“Okaaay,”¬†Rosaleen¬†dragged out, “but this doesn’t solve us pronouncing the words in the spell correctly.”

“The hot guy-”

Rosaleen¬†interrupted, “I get it,¬†Becca! He’s hot!”

Becca laughed and then said, “He gave me this website to go on, so I went on it on my phone,¬†and it filled me with chills. Good chills, though . . . So, I¬†listened¬†to the translation and tried pronouncing it in my head on the bus back home, and it sounded pretty awesome.” Becca grinned.

Rosaleen¬†breathed uneasily. Becca noticed¬†and¬†placed her palm on top of¬†Rosaleen’s¬†hand.¬†“Just trust me, Rose.”

Rosaleen¬†felt heat rising off Becca’s palm, warming her. She was silent for a bit¬†before she¬†nodded and put her trust in the one¬†person,¬†she thought she could with her entire life.


“Okay, Rose, give me your hand,” Becca instructed.

“What?”¬†Rosaleen¬†asked confused.

“Just give me your hand!” Becca groaned.

Rosaleen¬†hesitated. Becca grabbed¬†Rosaleen’s¬†hand without her say, and immediately¬†Rosaleen¬†could feel a sharp pain erupting through her forefinger. Becca had cut it with a small knife.¬†Rosaleen¬†screamed out as blood oozed out, dripping to the base of her forefinger.

Rosaleen¬†pulled her hand away, shouting, “What that hell! Why‚Äôd you do that!”¬†Where the hell did that knife even come from,¬†Rosaleen¬†thought, and she wasn’t surprised Becca had¬†even had¬†one.

“It needs to be done, ” Becca spoke with no emotion.¬†Then, Becca did the same. She cut the top of her forefinger, and as blood ran down her finger,¬†Rosaleen¬†could see no pain upon her face. No scream. It looked as if she was enjoying it.¬†Rosaleen¬†got up and started to look¬†in the dark¬†for something to stop the bleeding up till Becca shouted, “No, don’t do that! It needs your blood! Bring it over here!”

Fear shot down¬†Rosaleen’s¬†spine.¬†Blood? Why does it need blood? Adding blood makes it¬†seem¬†like black magic. “Why?”¬†Rosaleen¬†asked.

“The guy told me we needed to do this, as well as the candles.” Becca lied about the cutting. “Okay, now pour some on the spell,” she ordered.


Becca shouted louder, “Just do it!”

Rosaleen’s¬†inner¬†consciousness was trying to speak¬†out, telling her this was not right, but Becca’s domineering ways got¬†Rosaleen¬†to listen to Becca instead.¬†Rosaleen¬†poured¬†her blood on the spell.

“Don’t let it touch the letters, though,” Becca ordered, sharply.

Rosaleen¬†dripped a small amount of her blood at the bottom of the page. Becca did the same, and now their blood attached together like chains. As the both of them were bandaging their fingers, the worry in¬†Rosaleen’s¬†throat worsened. This was blood to blood. “Is this all in the spell?”¬†Rosaleen¬†asked.

“Yeah, it says we needed to do that.‚Ä̬†Becca’s voice wobbled this time¬†as she spoke.

“I know you’re lying!”¬†Rosaleen¬†yelled.

Becca hissed, “Okay, I am! Why does it matter!”

Rosaleen¬†shifted away from Becca¬†and didn‚Äôt¬†respond. Once again, Becca had dominated¬†Rosaleen.¬†Still,¬†Rosaleen¬†hadn’t found¬†the¬†courage. And this side of Becca was utterly satanic.

Becca lowered her voice. “This is definitely¬†gonna¬†make it work. In¬†the movies and stuff,¬†they always add their blood.”

Rosaleen stayed quiet.

Becca straightened her back¬†and¬†sat up straight.¬†“Time to begin.”


Rosaleen¬†and Becca held hands as they set out to begin. The room danced with absolute silence. The candles flamed in the dark room.¬†Rosaleen’s¬†pulse quickened as well as Becca’s, although Becca’s wasn’t¬†because of¬†fear it was from adrenaline.

“Just repeat after me, and then we’ll keep repeating it till we get it right,” Becca ordered.

Rosaleen¬†nodded, agreeing on command, and grabbed Becca’s hand tighter. They breathed in deeply, their mouths opened, and then they began.

The words they spoke were a strange foreign calligraphy that wasn’t familiar to known human languages with what seemed to be a mix of hieroglyphs that showed rudimentary details of familiar things like people, but with odd wings, tails, and even horns attached to their heads. A bad tasted filled their mouths¬†once¬†they shouted it out the first time. They ignored the strong taste staying on their tongues and went on for the second time.

They repeated the spell over and over again until Rosaleen got the hang of it. And by the fourth time, their hearts were hammering rapidly against their chest, freezing air bristling against their skin. Rosaleen no longer felt this was wrong. She no longer felt this could be dark. She felt that amazing adrenaline Becca had felt from the very beginning. It was like a wave of power tilted over her, giving her this confidence, she never thought she could have. She was the magic. She was Becca. And as they chanted out the last verse for as long and as hard as they could the spell finally came to its end.

Rosaleen¬†and Becca sat still for a moment, catching their breaths, lowering down their¬†excited pulses. They smiled at each other¬†as¬†pleasurable goosebumps¬†ran¬†down¬†their bodies. But those smiles flattened once the candles had blown out all at once¬†on their own. The room went pitch black. They couldn’t see a damn thing.

Rosaleen¬†let go of Becca’s hand, startled, and asked, “Did you do that, Becca?”

Before Becca had answered, the floor shook and shook like an earthquake. And as the two felt the floor, moving their bottoms, lifting them up, they shot up from the floor, and looked around, panicking.

“What the hell‚Äôs¬†going on?”¬†Rosaleen¬†shouted,¬†her eyes blazing with terror.

The candles flipped over. The book bounced up and down.¬†Rosaleen¬†and Becca held onto¬†Rosaleen’s¬†bed for support. And just before items¬†had fallen¬†from the wall,¬†the shaking abruptly stopped.

The two balanced themselves, silent with fear, confusion, and wonder.¬†Rosaleen, who was shaking, squinting all around in the¬†utter¬†dark, hoped it wouldn’t start up again. And in that still fearful moment, something blew through the room. An intense hot puff of air slit on their faces, heating up their skin as if they were sitting directly by a campfire, burning them for a split second until it was gone.

And what¬†Rosaleen¬†and Becca didn’t know¬†then¬†at that moment, panic-stricken to their core, something obscure attached itself to the air.


Page Break

‚̧ T. A. Nelson

I’m a writer who’s working on books and is in the query trenches, follow me on here as well as on Twitter @WriterInHorror


Update on my Writing Journey

Hello everyone!giphy

How are you all doing?! Hope your February has been doing alright. Anyway, I haven’t posted a blog post about my writing lately, so here it is!


I posted a query post way back in June about my start at the querying trenches and sadly, eight months later, not much luck has come from it. However, I’ve participated in a few twitter pitches throughout 2018 and I’ve gotten some luck there with a few agents liking them, yet I still haven’t found my match for representation. What I’ve learned in this very long eight month period, is that querying is overly exhausting, and it makes you feel like giving up, but finding your match will not happen over night. I am still going at it with about thirty rejections. The querying won’t stop until I know I’ve reached my limit and I know it is the end. And if that happens, I’m just going to have to move on and query later with another one of my projects.¬†I WILL FIND MY MATCH¬†and I know it’s out there!

Now apart from querying I have been working on another novel. And in fact, the very first draft has finished, and the six-week waiting period to start revisions is over and it’s revision time for the second draft. I’ve been revising and two chapters are edited and I’m on to the third! What is it about? Well, it is a horror novel because that’s the genre I write in. It is an adult coming of age, and I am really excited about it. And of course, there is a cosmic/sci-fi theme as well; I didn’t forget about that! Oooh, I just have a really good feeling about this one!

During that six-week waiting period I didn’t give up writing completely, I was working on something that might become a project some time down in the road. I wrote about 10k words of it during then, which I was surprised I had written that much. It is another horror novel with those cosmic/sci-fi sub-genres as well, but I was trying it as young adult. Right now, the project has ceased, yet I will come back to it in the future.

Well, that’s what’s been up lately with my writing! I hope you’ve enjoyed this post and I hope you give me a follow!

See you later!

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‚̧ T. A. Nelson

I’m a writer who’s working on books and is in the query trenches. Follow me on here as well as on twitter @WriterInHorror¬†




Taste of my Writing

I’ve had this blog for a little over six months now and I haven’t shared any samples of my writing, so I thought why not now! So, below here is my prologue to my finished horror novel called, THE THING IN THE WIND. Hope you enjoy reading it!







The morning of the first day of school is not only nerve-racking for a child but a parent’s job to answer their child’s endless bombard of questions.¬†¬†

‚ÄúWhy do I have to go?‚ÄĚ she whined, ‚ÄúWhy aren‚Äôt you guys allowed to come in with me? Will there be any toys for me to play with? . . .¬† Mommy and daddy, are you sure you‚Äôre going to pick me back up?‚ÄĚ Five-year-old¬†Rosaleen¬†Gibbons had asked her parents all these questions walking through the halls of¬†McTibbly¬†Elementary school in-between her father and mother as they all held hands on September 9th, 1996. ‚ÄúWhat if,‚Ä̬†Rosaleen‚Äôs¬†questioned more, tugging on her parents‚Äô hands as¬†her feet dragged along the school‚Äôs shiny, white floors, ‚Äúmy teacher isn‚Äôt¬†ni-‚Ä̬†Rosaleen¬†shut up and stopped as soon she spotted the kindergarten classroom ahead, full of kids cluttered all around it with their parents.¬†¬†

As they¬†all ceased, they dropped hands, and¬†Rosaleen‚Äôs¬†father stepped in front of her and got down on one knee. Grabbing her hands, holding them close together as they now all stood together by the door of the classroom, he assured¬†Rosaleen, “You‚Äôll be fine, princess. I promise. You‚Äôre going to have a great first day.”¬†

Rosaleen was silent for a split second before she nodded, feeling tears beginning to brim in her eyes and bit down into her bottom lip.  

“I love you,” he whispered. He kissed her on the cheek. She smelled his cologne floating off his skin, woody and fresh. And as she was swallowing tears, her eyes¬†now¬†wet, he got up off his knees, and¬†Rosaleen’s¬†mother said goodbye next. She kissed¬†Rosaleen¬†on the cheek and told her she had loved her. And while¬†Rosaleen¬†was starting to¬†choke¬†on her mother’s strong perform, feeling her mother’s smooth hair against her face¬†as her¬†vision clouded by tears,¬†the bell suddenly rang,¬†and¬†Rosaleen¬†flinched at the loud, harsh sound.¬†

“It’s okay, Rose. It’s just the bell,‚ÄĚ her father comforted.¬†¬†

“Yes, it’s alright.” Her mother’s brown eyes popped. “It means class had begun.” She smiled bright, and her pink lips glossed like¬†little¬†sparkles under the school’s fluorescent lights.¬†¬†

It was time, and little Rosaleen was beyond nervous. Butterflies were fluttering and shouting in her belly. Her throat hurt. She now watched as kids raced toward the classroom door. It sounded like a herd of baby elephants hurtling around in the wild. Parents were shouting goodbye to their children. And as Rosaleen glanced to her mommy and daddy one last time, a tear finally slipped out of her lid and ran down her cheek. Her parents waved goodbye, and as Rosaleen waved back, her hand shaking, she noticed their eyes suddenly looked like four pieces of glass.  

As she stepped through the doorway, to young¬†Rosaleen, the classroom had seemed humongous. Rectangular wooden desks and red, tiny chairs sat before a long, blank green chalkboard. The teacher’s desk sat in the very back of the room. On the other side of the room, was filled with so many different types of toys: blocks, board games, stuffed animals, coloring books, dolls, and trucks.¬†Rosaleen’s¬†eyes widened with excitement¬†as she stared, she hadn‚Äôt noticed her tears went away. Oh boy, she couldn’t wait to get into those. Pictures and posters about learning were all decorated around the walls. It all looked to be inviting and immediately drew¬†Rosaleen¬†in, fading the thoughts of¬†saying goodbye to¬†her parents.¬†

There were assigned seats, and¬†Rosaleen¬†was assigned to a desk with one other student. Shae McCoy.¬†Rosaleen¬†wasn’t too thrilled as soon as she found out.¬†What do I say?¬†Would¬†this girl like me?¬†Immediately,¬†Rosaleen’s¬†eyes fell to Shae’s, and she could see how big and bulging they seemed to be. Across those eyes were a pair of glasses. Her hair was a natural dark blonde and in braids. She was dressed in jean overalls. They stared at each other for a brief awkward moment and then at the same time, they both looked away and sat down¬†in¬†their chairs.¬†¬†

Throughout the morning,¬†Rosaleen¬†and Shae had not spoken to each other. They sat¬†completely¬†quiet¬†(not a peep out of their mouths)¬†while they listened to their new teacher. Other students¬†were speaking and shouting out things, but Mrs. Robinson had put her finger up to her mouth and shushed them. When lunchtime hit, the class went down to the cafeteria to eat.¬†Rosaleen¬†didn’t like it there. It was¬†much too loud¬†for her taste¬†and¬†was¬†filled with a whole bunch of other kids, even older ones.¬†Rosaleen¬†sat at the very end of a long,¬†white¬†table, in-between boys who kept throwing pieces of their lunches at each other. She was eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich her mother had made¬†her this morning,¬†tasting¬†anxious¬†tears on her tongue. Oh, how much longer¬†did they have to stay in here? She didn‚Äôt know how much¬†more¬†she could take in this noisy cafeteria which smelled of cheese and meat.¬†¬†

Mrs. Robinson announced it would be¬†coloring time after lunch. “I’ll give each desk a box of crayons, so you can all practice sharing,‚ÄĚ she explained.¬†

Once they had their box,¬†Rosaleen¬†took half the crayons, and Shae took the other half. They began to color, still not saying a word to each other. The entire class was utterly quiet for the first time today. The only sound heard was the sound crayons make as they rub against papers. And yet, who could‚Äôve known coloring was the key to keeping a class of twenty-four kids in line.¬†Rosaleen¬†finished the sky with no problem, and she was now on to the trees. She grabbed the green and began. Her lips curled slightly; she was enjoying this assignment. Now, this comforted her, and at these moments, coloring, hearing the class in utter silence, it almost felt close to home. She had loved to color. A creative child she was. Mrs. Gibbons was always filling the walls at home with pictures¬†Rosaleen¬†drew and colored. Anybody who came in the Gibbons‚Äô home had always joked about it being¬†like¬†a kid’s art museum. Just about finished,¬†Rosaleen¬†was ready to grab the yellow crayon for the sun until she suddenly noticed in her pile of crayons, she didn’t have it. Shae had it.¬†¬†

Quickly, nerves stirred around¬†and around¬†in her belly. She didn’t want to ask Shae for hers. She was going to keep the sun black and white up till Mrs. Robinson¬†then¬†shouted, “Class, you have¬†a¬†few¬†minutes left, and then we‚Äôre going to have sharing time!‚Ä̬†

Oh no, share?¬†Rosaleen¬†had to finish it now. She didn’t want to be embarrassed in front of her new classmates with an unfinished picture. She fiddled in her chair, feeling her heart racing, her head aching from her mommy pulling her pigtails in too tightly this morning and glanced over at Shae, who was finishing up the trees, her picture near finished.¬†Rosaleen¬†breaths were sharp. Her tiny palms were sweating. What was she going to do? Time was ticking¬†on¬†the electric clock on the upper wall above the doorway.¬†She had to do something. Inhaling deeply, hearing her heart booming in her little chest, she spurted out¬†to Shae¬†in a whisper, “C-Can I have the yellow?”¬†

Flinching, Shae dropped the blue crayon she had been using and it fell out of her hands, rolling to end of the table. With her eyes startled big and blue, she looked at Rosaleen for a long moment, quiet and still and then with her little hand shaking, she shyly handed Rosaleen the yellow crayon.  

“Thank you,”¬†Rosaleen¬†whispered.¬†Taking it¬†from Shae‚Äôs hand,¬†Rosaleen¬†smiled as¬†Shae darted her eyes, returning a smile, crooked and unnatural, and¬†in those seconds going by¬†a friendship began, a friendship lasting up ‚Äėtil adolescents crept its way in, stealing it from right under their feet, only to have them be reunited ten years¬†to come¬†as assigned¬†college¬†roommates.¬†

‚̧ T. A. Nelson

Make sure you’re following me on here as well as on twitter @WriterInHorror and wattpad @livinginmymindgirl