Let’s go off on a tangent, shall we?

Sunshine: I am waiting for more AGOBH. 😡 Give it to me, now!!!!

So, I have stuff to say because I don’t want to say it in my author’s notes!

First, a lot of the characters have evolved as I planned the Untitled Story. I’m sorry if the characters you guys have made change a little bit! Mostly it’s just age changes, but there are also personality changes, too.

And second, I planned a story! Whoa! There’s a first for everything, huh? My timeline took ages to fill up properly, but I hope I’ve done a good enough job of it. I’ll be writing a crime story. It’s the first time I’ve ever tried to tackle that particular genre, but I have been getting rather fond of it. I think I’m getting a little sick of romance – which is symptomatic of way too much time reading FanFiction fluff. Anyway, I really love complicated plots, but I’m not really good at creating those…

Also, I’m not sure how many words I’ll be able to get with my vague timeline. Hoping for 50k. And don’t expect great quality or realistic scenarios; I’ve never written crime before and I write for fun only.

I think I’ll give you an excerpt and summary thing, because I’m slightly busy at the moment and won’t get the first chapter written for a while.


“The keys… the keys…”

Marie-Claire Renaud’s intelligent flatmate, Lucy Markson, becomes obsessed with understanding a cryptic message after the death of her grandmother’s friend. All the while, people are being murdered seemingly at random, with only one thing to link them all; a purple gemstone found in their hands. When Lucy and Marie finally figure out the meaning of the message, they are shocked beyond belief and become forced to solve these murders. But a group of confused high school kids can’t solve murders… can they?


“Fear not, sweet Marie-Claire, for I shall save you!”

Oh, yawn. Here we go again.

“Surrender yourself, Sir Bradbury! Or the girl will die by my hands!”

Why did they always say “by my hands”? I mean, was I expecting them to use their feet or something?

“Never! I will never give in! Marie-Claire, my dear love, call out to me so that I may find you!”

For the love of all that is holy, how many times had we been through this? I was always gagged. I couldn’t call out. Heroic fool!

“She is hidden, Bradbury, where only God can find her. Surrender or she will suffer!”

“Fine! I cannot allow her to be harmed, I give in to you.”

Gosh. That wasn’t at all predictable.

“But first, before you kill me, tell my why: why did you do all of this?”

Yeah, I thought so. The monologue was approaching. I decided not to listen, because really, they were all the same. I just waited there, with my hands loosely tied, my mouth gagged and my imminent death staring me in the face.


Oh, don’t get me wrong. I knew I should have been scared, but after the first ten times, this whole process got a more than a little monotonous.

“You’ll never get away with this!”

Phrase number eleven, neatly in the bag.

“And what, pray tell, is going to stop me?”

My sword, that’s what.

“My sword, that’s what!”

He needed new lines. I kept telling him, but he never listened. No, little Marie-Claire. Just braid your hair and look pretty, Marie-Claire.


Then there was the inevitable wet metal sound, a crunch or two, a grunt, and then the sound of falling meat on to marble floor.

Another arch fiend taken care off. Whoopee.

Ah, the town could celebrate. The grand Sir Bradbury saved the day! Joy, jubilation!

Good Lord, I was so bored of this.

Sir Bradbury, otherwise known as my flatmate’s nerdy friend Brad, bowed to an invisible audience and then untied my wrists, while Lord Jameson – played by my flatmate James – pulled the gag off my head. I sighed when I was free and got off the floor, not bothering to hide my yawn.


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