The Diary of Elliot Parker

.: Entry Sixty :.

My name is Elliot Parker.

Waking up from the dream, the ghost tears felt real now. Waking up at three thirty-three in the morning, my time. Nothing short of magical to wake at three thirty-three in the morning and feel that kind of connection. I just feel like a walk in the sunset but you can’t really do that at three thirty something now in the morning. Instead I lay there and close my eyes, I take one deep breath and then another, and soon I see colours on the backs of my eyelids, swirling colours. I begin to think of that walk, the way the sun looks disappearing with streaks of reds and ambers bleeding the blue of the sky. The brisk cold air filling my lungs and splashing my face as I walk. The warmth of the coat around me and the hot heat of a hard walk in every muscle. The music in my ears. The cold ice of the air, making my nose red. I let it fill my every breath and every thought. Just the falling away of my existence, the falling away of the reality. This time the tears that fall are from the cold whipping wind. Nothing is more beautiful. It’s the kind of view that you just want to capture forever.

Is it running away or just loosing yourself? I miss loosing myself in other worlds like this, where the clarity is so unmistakeable. In a place where every risk pays off and you can have what you want in your life just by writing it. If that was possible I know what I would want, him, us, that back together-ness. I could have it my way, I could have everything. Isn’t that what happens in the stories, there’s a rough patch, things change, people change and then somehow they fall back together and things work out perfectly. The whole happy ever after thing. I want to live that, however much I wouldn’t openly admit it, I believe in it and with him, I want it.

Sometimes, being in touch with how you feel, can be a little overwhelming. Sometimes just wanting silence from yourself. No thoughts, just awe with the world around you and peace, sometimes it’s the thing that you want more than anything. Something to cleanse your soul. I know that it doesn’t sound like it, but I do love that I am finding ways to allow the whole of me, but more than anything, sometimes I just want to wash the fog away, you know the fog of trying to work out what it is you want and what everyone else wants from you. To just wash all of the ties and responsibilities away and let the ocean sweep over your very soul.

The thing is right now, for once, things with Adrian feel stable. Even when I am taking the biggest risks. I let him know a second chance was possible. I’ve become so much braver. Sometimes, I just struggle, because I don’t recognise myself. I don’t know where the last few years have gone, I don’t know where many years of my life have gone, boxed up and repressed for my own happiness.

These risks with Adrian, they may not seem like they are paying off, there’s no calculable results but they are there, especially on my side. The payoff is enormous. It feels better to be braver, it doesn’t feel like I am being brave. It feels like I am allowing myself most of all in that moment and it can only work out for me in the best way.

Last night, it was the night before Adrian flies, it’s the first trip he’s been home and I haven’t seen him, it’s been so hard as it is. I let him know that even if I can’t see him before he leaves I hope he has a safe trip. He said something sweet back, he hoped I stayed safe and wished me luck with the books. He’s never said that before.

I had to ask him if this was goodbye, it felt strange. It wasn’t goodbye. I asked him to keep in touch while he was out there. I just didn’t want him to think that there was an end to me wanting him in my life. He is such a huge part of it.

So I took a chance and I sent him another one of those, risks… in a message. It wasn’t me trying to achieve anything, it wasn’t with an agenda or motive. It was just me wanting to share what was in my heart at that particular moment, my own rampage filled with pure unconditional love.

“Promise you will keep in touch. Cos you are in my life for good and forever now. I wrote about you before I even met you. Writers immortalise the people they love and you are already immortalised in one of the stories that I have written, so that’s that. You are a life changing event and though it’s taken us a long time to get here I would do it all again. You helped me become the very best version of myself, the me that I had the potential to be that was out of reach, the best is still getting better.

I’m a better woman, a better friend, a better writer and a better everything for having you in my life. I owe you the biggest thank you the world could ever offer so I honestly do wish you a sincerely happy life.

I’ve immortalised you in other stories, so you are truly eternal, I hope that you can understand that the love I have for you is unconditional; at your best and your worst for all time. Whatever we may be and wherever we may be that doesn’t change.

I say this with complete sincerity, thank you for all that you are in my life and for your existence. You are loved, unconditionally and unendingly and appreciated beyond measure.”

Waiting for those two blue ticks suddenly felt like the riskiest thing in the world.

Out now! Want to see the next installment ahead of time? Can’t wait to find out what happens next? Get a cheeky little preview in the kindle book and see what happens after that risky text… 

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The Diary of Elliot Parker

.: Entry Fifty-Nine :.

My name is Elliot Parker, and the dusty room filled with books is materialising around me like a sea.

“Elliot?” His voice, even here makes my heart skip a beat.

“Adrian, you called me here?” I look at the books in the room around me, still tidy.

“I wanted to talk to you. I am going away again.” My heart sinks.

“I know, you said” the distance between us, however short in this room feels like gulfs sometimes.

“I didn’t say no to you. Did you notice?” He sounds like a hopeful child, wanting you to see some marvellous effort.

“When I said about second chances?”

“Yeah.” His smile is so hopeful it’s starting to hurt.

“I noticed. Looks like you are leaking through, not a straight no, less pinching off, just because you won’t physically be in the same country doesn’t mean that the second chance is invalid.” I watch the smile on his face, the little twitch as the corners of his mouth move as his smile becomes a grin.

“I know, it was the best I could do, I’m still pinched off, just I wanted to say thank you for helping, you are showing him, you are here the same as in the reality, you managed to allow your full self. We can see it, it is causing the changes in us, you know that right?” The way the separation talks from his physical and his soul pinched off hurts, I know it does, I remember that hurt.

“Yes. But that can’t be all you wanted to talk about.” I want to know everything he called me here for, but there is never enough time together.

“It’s not, after that hell of a day, we wanted to make sure you were ok, you know, he, we, we want you safe.” I can’t help but smile,

“Why is it, our best heart to hearts are here?”

“Because, I think, you already know, our souls are linked now.” Whether it is what we want or not, I know we are linked.

“Love does that doesn’t it?” He nods. I bridge the gap between us and walk over to him. “I know he is changing, I can see it, he didn’t have to tell me what I already knew. He keeps making this point, he’s asking for advice but it’s asking for advice and sharing things with me in a way that didn’t really happen before. He tells me about some girl who wants him or another that wanted a particular kind of favour from him and he tells me. He says to me that he says no to them and what they desire is not what he wants and lets me know that he said no.”

“But he, I, we haven’t said no to you.” Like he is offering the piece of a puzzle I didn’t already know.

“Precisely, it’s like you’re consciously trying to tell me to listen that you’ve not said ‘no’ you’ve evaded it saying that you won’t be in the country.”

“I’ve not given up on you. I can’t give you up. Listen to me, in reality, he’s still pinched off but now he is seeing that its ok to allow the whole of him, little by little. You showed us it was possible, how we hurt you and look at how you transformed. You became this soul that shines in this world and in reality and we can see your allowing yourself like a beacon showing us that it is possible. You don’t give up your connection with yourself. We are becoming the man you deserve.”

I can feel the ghost of a tear and I know it’s from the physical world. I am crying in my sleep, I can’t but let out a small smile.

“I don’t want you to go.”

“We don’t either. Just don’t give up on us.” I haven’t so far, I don’t think it could be possible.

“I love you, unconditionally. Promise you will never forget that.” He nods, I can’t stop myself from reaching up and pulling him into a kiss. My whole body feels like its glowing and sparking from top to toe, inside and out. I remember this feeling, it’s the feeling I’ve had in his arms. When we first saw each other after the messy break up and months of quiet, when we finally saw each other. I just remember this feeling being in his arms. It’s like a golden light coming from within, like the most intensely perfect feeling.

“We fit together.” I nod unable to find the words yet again. “You know of all the stupid things I’ve done, screwing us up was the dumbest mistake of my life.” I can’t help but laugh, it’s something of a choking feeling with the ghost of a tear.

“It’s easily fixed, just keep doing what you are doing, soon being happy won’t be the enemy. I wish you could remember that happiness isn’t the horrible thing he contorts it into. It doesn’t have to end.”

“I know, just keep leading by example.”

“I have no intention of stopping my allowing the full self. You know I mean it, when I say this year I’m going to be selfish, I am putting myself and what makes me happy first.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

“This year is my year; personal or professional I am doing me this year. I hope you get to tap into your full self this year. You deserve to be happy.”

“I know, you too. I am getting there, its baby steps between here and reality. Everything is working out, just don’t forget you know how I feel even if in the physical he refuses to admit anything. I am working on getting that wall knocked down. One step at a time.”

“When you tell me you are telling the other girls no…”

“I am telling you to be honest with you, but more than that, to show you that I haven’t said no to you, to show you that I can’t let you go even if I can’t say it out there, I mean it. I can’t and won’t lose you.”

“That would be impossible. I already told you, I am always, always here for you. I wish I could give you everything you want to make you happy.”

“You do. But I just have to stop getting in my own way.”

“This is so bittersweet.”

The pre-order link is available now… Due to release 10th June!

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The Diary of Elliot Parker

.: Entry Fifty-Eight :.

My name is Elliot Parker, but right now I am so glad that it’s not.

… Betraying myself, makes that yes the most deafening yes I will ever remember in my life.

The smile on his lips when he kissed me after the word had left my lips was unmistakeable. The kisses were hungry and intense and unquenchable. I fight the fog of the hunger. It feels like a fight I am loosing before I manage to break our lips free at last for a moment.  “You need to answer my question.” My breath feels as unsteady and as shaken as I feel. “Who are you really?”

It had sobered us both like a bucket of ice.

I waited, the silence was heavy, I could see the confliction flashing through his face. “It’s better you don’t know.”

My temper hits me in a white hot rage. Without knowing it my right hand has raised and been caught in his vice like grip, his reflex stopping me from slapping him. His other hand has already wrapped itself around my other wrist. His anger isn’t a mask this time, neither is the hurt registering in his eyes, I can feel it is a mirror reflection of myself. Bitterly like a hot knife a tear rolls down my cheek. I try to look away but I can see something strange in his eyes, guilt? Remorse? I feel his grip loosen.

Slowly my hands are allowed to fall freely to my side before I wrap them around my body. The sting of the tears I am defiantly wishing away are falling without my permission.

Finally, when he speaks, he is beside my ear and his breath tickles me. What he says, turns my insides into cold lead, “I’m the Prince you ran away from.”

The lump in my throat is solid, it doesn’t go away when I try to swallow air. It feels like I am suffocating. Suddenly my whole body is on fire and I have to get out the room. I push past him and this time he lets me as I burst from his cabin and run to the furthest end of the ship dizzy and hot and burning from the inside out.

I could jump, I could try to out swim the ship but there’s no land to rescue and no other ship in sight. I can feel his every stride across the deck, he stopped standing in the door, I could feel him reading my desire to jump, to feel the cold splash of the sea on my skin. I feel him approach, I feel more trapped with every breath I take. The pounding in my ears, I feel like I’m drowning in my own fire.

His voice cuts through me, he turns me to face him, “I am addicted to you, regardless of who you are and who I am.”

This time he doesn’t stop me when I slap him. “Where are we going?” I feel every word heavy and painful from the pit of my lungs.

“Home.” My knees buckle under me.

I never escaped, not really. I can never escape. He pulls me up and somehow I find myself floating into his cabin. “You lied.”

“Can you blame me?”


“The moment I saw you I knew no matter who you were I was under your spell. I wanted to know you, really know you.”

“You were under the contract of the arrangement.”

“No, the moment I saw you and new you were running away, from me, you didn’t know who I was; I wanted you to choose me, not have your hand forced.”

“You can’t be serious?” I finally notice the door is closed, it’s just us. “What is the damn truth with you?”

He takes a deep breath. How did I end up sitting on his bunk? When did he kneel in front of me? When did he take my hands in his? “I am the Prince you will marry; I am the Prince who fell from grace the moment our eyes met. You are my addiction and an adventure with every breath. Finally, you told me what I had hoped for, I am your addiction. That hasn’t changed.”

“The crew know who you are?”

“Yes. They found out who you really were when you got us out of that chamber.”

“You knew exactly who I was, and your men have seen me naked at your demand in that cave.” I feel the fury and fire in my throat burning again. I pull my hands free of his.

“I had no choice, you refused to do what I said and you would have died of cold, you almost did.”

“I was nothing more than a game to you.”

“You were everything but a game. Running away like this, at least you were safe, I never once gambled us or risked losing you, unless I told the truth. I could have not said a word. We could have carried on running.”

I pull my legs up so my knees are hugged tight to my body. His words were supposed to do something, but what? Stop me from being angry? To make me feel lucky? What? All I know is the confusion is a thick fog. Am I angry or thankful or hurt or betrayed or happy or relieved or trapped or embarrassed or humiliated?

He sat with a thud beside me, I speak, not moving, knees still tight in my arms. “You locked the door didn’t you?” There is no key in the lock, I already know the answer. He nods. “I can’t leave can I?”

“There’s nowhere out there to run to, I know you want to run, but please,” he turns his body towards mine and pulls me towards him so that he can look me in the eyes. I give up staring at my feet, “please, Princess, don’t run from me again. I will do anything to not lose like I could have done. Now that I know you, I don’t think I could ever recover. If I had never known you, if we had never stumbled into each other and never met, the Princess who ran away wouldn’t hurt as much as it hurts right now to see you look at me like this.” I look away, I keep how I am feeling unvoiced and stare in silence refusing to break my own resolve.

The pre-order link is available now… Due to release 10th June!

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The Diary of Elliot Parker

.: Entry Fifty-Seven :.

My name is Elliot Parker. Except, here it’s not.

I maybe the Captain’s addiction, but he is not mine, my addiction? Staying alive.

I might have charmed the Captain to cut himself free of the dead wood men ready to mutiny. On this boat there are two types of men, those that accept that forbidden magic has kept them alive and those that are struggling with the morals. The ones who were dead set against it are now just plain dead.

The Captain accepted my set up as the stowaway girl but no regular stowaway girl would have these powers, no regular person would even have a chance of these powers. They come from specific, influential bloodlines, the stronger the magic… the Captain knows this. The crew have enough knowledge of rumours. What interests me, is that the Captain has magical control. Not just the basic charisma most Captains have that brings the men like moths to the flame ready to serve. Something more. His past is more than just the plain Captain he has lead us all to believe.

I sit on the steps to the helm watching the water around us. Nothing but sea. The Captain had kept himself locked in his cabin since the kiss after we danced on deck.

I’ve been sat here stewing over what I want to do. There has been so much that has been bothering me about all the questions floating through my head about the Captain. I finally decide to stop trying to calculate what the hell my next move is and stand up, straightening my shirt. I pull my hair into a rough bun with a tie of cloth.

I knock on his door, there is a shift and I stand out of view. I knock on the door; curiosity is what forces him to open the door, I just take advantage of his surprise and push past him and into the room. I watch the hesitation before he closes the door. No point making an unwinnable war.

“You’ve not been on deck in a few days.” I feel his eyes tracing my body.

“I’ve been working.” He refuses to meet my eye and looks away.

“Have you? What on?” I cock my head to the side and let a loose strand of hair fall down on my cheek covering my eye. He shakes his head, “nothing” I slowly wrap the loose strand around my finger and push it behind my ear. He sits on his bunk, his cabin is tidier than normal, he’s cleaned up. He must have been bored. I let him catch me looking, at the tidier cabin, I try to hide the racing thoughts. I take a deep breath and lean against the desk taking a deep breath I cross my arms. “What do you want Princess?”

“I want the truth.”

“How very vague, what about?”


He smiled, “me?”

“Yes. Who were the blue and creams really after, you or me?” I try to get him to meet my eye but his eyes are fixed on the wall.

“Who do you think?”

“That’s what I can’t decide, I might have more than you may have expected. But I know that you are more than the man you claim to be.” I let my words linger in the air, the silence as deafening as the roar of the ocean on a stormy night.

“That’s an interesting theory.”

“Theory? Who are you really? I don’t believe you are a Captain with that much control by happenstance.”

“You want answers?”

“Would I be here if I didn’t?”

“If you want answers, you need to tell me what turned you into the runaway Princess begging for a strange Captain’s help to escape.”

“Then you will tell me?”

“If you tell me the unadulterated truth. No masks, just us here, and I’m telling no one.”


“What responsibility?”

“I am running from an arranged marriage that I never wanted.”

“Did you meet him?”

“No. I left before he reached the palace.”

“So you are the Princess running from her palace and prince? You take a lot of risks.”

“Are risks really risks if they are calculated?”

“Yes. He could have been a good man.”

“Or a terrible one. It was an arrangement of alliance not of match made romance.”

“You could have come to love him. Instead you chose this life on the run.”

“I chose freedom.”

“Will you ever go back?”

“How can I?”

“Do you think it was an accident you chose my ship?” I felt a shift beneath my feet and it wasn’t the boat, it was me. Was this all an accident. Was this part of something else?

“Who are you really?”

“I want my question answered first.” He stood, he took two or three strides to stand in front of me, the palms of his hands bracing the desk on either side of me, no longer lazily leaning on his desk. His face is close to mine, I could feel his eyes locking onto mine, he wanted honesty, and he stripped the masks between us away completely. “Am I your addiction to?”

I felt every breath harder in my chest, I couldn’t charm my way out of this in any remote option, the best, to tell the truth and hope it’s the one that keeps me alive. I find myself unable to speak, I try but there is some strange feeling in my throat. I could swear my heart beating could be heard on deck. I can’t break free of the struggle to say the words. His face is so close to mine the warmth of his breath is intoxicating. I lean myself a little closer, this time when my lips brush his I am nervous, a different kind of nervous, a giddy heart racing nervous. Our lips touch feather light, I kiss him, so gently I am wondering if it was something of the imagination. Until I kiss him again and his lips meet mine firmly. One kiss then another falls into another, a breathless hunger of kisses fall between us, I pause for the briefest second and my voice is no more than a whisper, even though it is my own biggest betrayal, “yes”…

The pre-order link is available now… Due to release 10th June!

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The Diary of Elliot Parker

.: Entry Fifty-Six :.

My name is Elliot Parker and that crazy day didn’t stop there obviously.

So how far did I get? Ah, the parking lot, or leaving it I should say. So we drive down the main road talking about the day so far still laughing at the audacity of the man that Clover described as a “ropey piece of…” You get the idea.

So anyway we turn off to avoid the traffic of town and turn off just past the hospital and we are driving along to the first crossroads. A man is standing to cross, well sort of standing, more zombie walking across, he had blood dripping down the side of his face and he reached the other side. Clover shouts out the car asking if he is ok, he nods, like a zombie and she points him in the direction of accident and emergency a road down and has to drive to pull up on the other side of the cross road so other cars can pass. So we call the emergency services, Clover has her eye on the man and I explain to the ambulance team about his injuries and the man runs off. Literally runs off, we turn the car and we are trying to see him, its dark outside and he has disappeared. We try to see if we can spot the man as we drive, however because we can’t find him the ambulance can’t come out. We look up and down the side roads for the next twenty to thirty minutes hoping to spot him.

We can’t find him and we try one last attempt to see if he is ok and we head to accident and emergency. A conversation we don’t quite know how to have.

“This might sound like a bit of a weird question…” Well now the receptionist is listening… “But we saw this man a few roads away and he had blood dripping down the side of his head and…”

The receptionist rolled her eyes, she knew who we were talking about “we know, he did it in here. He came in and kicked off and did that to himself and ran off before we could do anything.”

Ah so it was self-inflicted, suddenly we felt a lot less concerned and responsible. So we got back on track and had to head back to the MaccyD’s we had just been in for the play pit. The other place had closed.

Well the little one ended up having fun playing with a few other kids while we sat on the floor watching her chatting. It had been such a crazy day.

And do you know, the only thing I wanted by the end of the day was to cuddle up with Adrian with a nice hot cup of tea and something stupid on the TV. Out of all the things in the world, he is still what I wanted to comfort me.

With some of the decisions I’ve been trying to make recently, I just needed his special brand of cuddles, even if it’s one of the ones where he pokes me in the back a little. I know I find it agitating but the way we just seem to fit together, it just feels so safe and so much like home. He is my safe place, even if he doesn’t know or understand that, it’s ok. I just don’t think I can forget that day. I don’t think I can forget that he is my safe place. I don’t think I will ever forget that feeling, that after a long hard day when I am exhausted and just in need of feeling safe and comfortable he is the person I think of.

I haven’t discussed this with him, how can I? Just like I really don’t know if I want his opinion, because I think he would tell me to do it and make it all very public. It has been suggested to me that I should write a memoir, about something specific, about the relationship I have with my mother. There is a reason why I am scared to do this, actually there is many. I’ve given it so much thought. Too much thought. But it doesn’t feel right or ready yet. Not because I am protecting her or protecting myself, really protecting myself. But right now, I am still living it and I need the space from it rather than to keep thinking about the way things are. I don’t want to do it and feel worse for it. I want to do it for the right reasons. I want to be able to do it and be able to say “I accept that this made me feel (insert whatever feeling fits like scared or hurt or angry) and that’s ok. I accept that it made me feel like that and I am happy to be in a position where I no longer feel this way and I am able to begin to feel thankful for this experience because it has enabled me to become who I am today. Who I am today is awesome and full of happiness and love and the past has been released.”

That would be the position and emotional place that I want to be in if I do ever decide that I am ready to sit down and write the memoirs that people tell me I should be writing. Right now, I am living it, and just living it is hard enough as it is. I never expected to feel or live this way. But I am not willing to hurt myself more now, when there is a chance that in the future I will be able to write it in a place where it benefits me emotionally to release me from the past, and the present.

I don’t doubt that Adrian would understand if I explained it that way, I just don’t want to feel like I am running away from or avoiding writing it for the wrong reason. He wants the best I am sure but I don’t feel ready for crossing that bridge.

The pre-order link is available now… Due to release 10th June!

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The Diary of Elliot Parker

.: Entry Fifty-Five:.

My name is Elliot Parker; I believe I had got to the part when the crazy man decided to call the police?

Ah yeah. So the guy is on the phone to the police and starts giving Clover’s car details and describes the car as yellow. Well my eyes have rolled into my head. The manager is telling her don’t give the guy your phone number. I’ve carelessly but agitated said “the car is ORANGE at least get the damn colour right” I’d had enough. So Clover is given the phone and the man is still going on and the general agitation hasn’t changed. I really can’t be dealing with this guy for much longer. So Clover gets off of the phone and the man starts going on that he needs her details. Clover asks the manager can she please see the CCTV so she goes with the manager and the man follows them, I go and sit back in the car with the little one. The man comes out and starts walking around his car and then walks around Clover’s car then talks at me through the window.

The man starts making a demand at me through the window to call Clover and get her back out. I said, very firmly, “no you can wait, she is with the manager.” He hasn’t listened to me and demands again that I call her, my response? “No I said you can wait.” I swear some people just want to get on my bad side to see if I will end up losing my temper at them. So Clover comes back out with the manager. The man starts going on about the details. He tells her he wants her number. She says no, he says it again. I snap back. Something snapped in me to make me take control again, “You are not having her number.”

“Yes I am I am having her number”

“I SAID you are not having her number.”

Apparently the manager must have been surprised according to Clover (in the post incident chat in the car) but anyway, yeah I talked to the man like he was a five-year-old. He was acting like it. So why not? The man carries on saying “the police said…” I interrupted “I don’t care what the police said.” The manager stepped in and asked what the police said, the man didn’t like the manager stepping in.

“The police said… the police said… and I am doing what the police said.” Couldn’t actually tell us could you mate? Dickhead.

So anyway this bloke is still going on and we eventually pull the information we need out of him like his name and insurance like pulling teeth. So the man drives off without paying for his fuel which makes us laugh a little and the manager walks off pleased the man hasn’t paid for his fuel. So finally Clover and I are sat in the car, with the details of the manager in case the man puts in an insurance claim. So turns out the manager’s name is Richard. We are about to leave when the man swings his car back into the forecourt and stops outside the shop and starts waving at us. Clover asked if he was trying to flag us down again. I told her no, and we are not stopping let’s go.

So we get a short way down the road where there is a split and roundabout. The man speeds to just ahead but beside us and looks right into the car. I stare at him and tell her to wait till he drives off so he can’t follow us. He drives off not in the direction we are headed in and we head to Clover’s.

So of course I started writing the written statement while the phone call to her insurance was taking place to give them a warning that the man is likely to put in a fraudulent claim. So it took about three or so pages to write it out all done and dusted.

A quick trip back to the petrol station to ask the manager if it was possible for a copy of the CCTV. But sadly, the manager, Richard had just left by the time we got there, so a note was left and we could finally get on with the rest of our day…

We drove over to the MaccyD’s with the play pit and little one had fallen asleep in the back of the car. So we got a nice hot drink and I swear we were still laughing about the ridiculousness of the man who had clearly picked her as a target. Let’s face it, a young mum with a kid in the car to him looked like an easy target. The bizarre part was that he had told Clover he would have just let her go if she had said sorry and not lied. Like what the hell is wrong with you to act like such an idiot. I mean causing a huge scene when you are making stuff up isn’t a good look. He thought he had an easy target. But his body language didn’t work in his favour, neither did his manners. The way he spoke so loudly and the big attention seeking body language was designed to embarrass her and threaten her to push her into paying him to shut up and leave her alone.

I have no idea how or why, but that manifestation was incredibly stressful but also it has made me laugh. A LOT!

How could it not make you laugh? It just seemed like the most incredibly ridiculous stupid behaviour I have seen in a very long time. It takes a lot for me to snap, but he got a short blast of me taking control. Something I don’t often do but when I do, it’s hard to cross me. Even if I do shake like a Chihuahua on adrenalin…

But here’s the thing it wasn’t the only crazy thing to happen in one day and leavin*g the parking lot of the MaccyD’s to find another play pit while little one was sleeping was the start of another adventure.

The pre-order link is available now… Due to release 10th June!

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The Diary of Elliot Parker

.: Entry Fifty-Four :.

My name is Elliot Parker and today has been madness. Honestly, how on earth did I manifest this?

So Clover and I decided to go to lunch with the little one.

Of course somehow I ended up running behind and was in a rush out the door. So Clover and I had a little chat in the car about the boys in her life.

It was a restaurant that we don’t usually go to, as we were eating we had an idea to go to somewhere with a play park for the little one to play after dinner. The lunch was a lovely treat, Clover made a joke that I couldn’t help but laugh at suggesting I work in a nursery. It’s taken a long time until I have felt sort of comfortable around children. Honestly, I don’t have much experience with them, I am always scared I will squish them, there’s no babies in my family and haven’t been for years so it’s one of those weird things.

I guess, even though I do eventually want kids one day, I really am in no rush.

So after lunch we get in the car again and we stop off at Clover’s regular petrol station. Well, little did we know as we parked at the pump we would be there longer than we had ever intended. A quick stop, that was the plan. And the best laid plans go awry.

While Clover is inside, I am sat with the little one when a guy swerves in to park in the pump in front. Clover came back out and he looked her over. So she gets in the car and we start talking about the bloke who had looked her over. She drove around his bad parking job. Like clear around. Minutes later we hear banging on the back of the car and he’s yelling at her that she hit his car. So she stopped got out looked at her car and walked over to his. He’s still being very loud causing a scene shouting that she hit his car and she’s not entering on his level. She hasn’t hit his car and she states that he starts yelling louder calling her a liar. She has to move the car so someone else can get past so as she is going to park he’s following and pushing her almost getting into the parking spot. I tell her to stay with little one and the car I am going to get security involved. I get out the car take a photo of his license plate, the side of Clover’s car where there are distinctly old scratches he is insisting are from her car. Then I walk over to his car take a photo of the dent, which is huge, not a scuff but a dent. Here is the big issue, if she had dented his car she would have had a real mark on her car. So I walk into the shop part and start looking for a member of staff, I check the shop floor and find the man has followed me inside, and goes to me “what are you doing?”

Like seriously? What a prick. So I respond saying looking for a member of staff. I catch sight of a man in a suit coming out from behind the cash tills, I catch him on his way back into the office. I ask him if there “is any security available? There is a man saying my friend dented his car but she hasn’t and he’s being quite aggressive” There’s no security but he is the manager, and he came out to help us.

So we head back out to the forecourt and the man is still ranting like an idiot, just at the manager who looks at Clover’s car and agrees that the scratches are definitely old. We knew that. And the dent on his car has paint transfer, like the man is yelling, but the difference is the transfer on his car is red. Clover’s car is orange.

The manager tells Clover she is within her rights to leave and drive off with his license details, she didn’t his car.

The man starts getting louder and more erratic telling us that we can’t leave, and so on. I ask the manager if he could check the CCTV for us. He disappears to the office to check and another member of staff comes over to stand with us.

The man is still being very irritating. So the manager comes out and tells Clover it looks like she has gone right around him. The man is still being, loud. The manager tells the man to calm down or leave. Well, that doesn’t go down well the man starts arguing that the manager can’t tell him to leave he has no right. The manager looks annoyed at this point and firmly tells him he can tell him to leave, he is the manager and this is his forecourt. The man carries on being rude saying why is he here why is he getting involved, he works in the pizza place nearby and then he throws a random word out, “immigration” and the three of us are like “what the hell has immigration got to do with this?” the man doesn’t answer and carries on ranting this time saying something about “over three years ago” and pointing at the car. And the rest of the dents in the car are none of our business (and trust me his car had more dents in it then a derby car).  Like seriously?!

So, anyway, this is getting ridiculous now. So did you know I get the shakes with an adrenalin rush? That really doesn’t help my temper in the long term because of the agitation and pain the shakes causes. The manager has had enough of this guy and can tell we have to. The manager advises us that we can get in the car and drive he can’t do anything. That is when the man decides to call the police even after being told that this is not a police matter and the emergency number is not his personal hotline…

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The Diary of Elliot Parker

.: Entry Fifty-Three :.

My name is Elliot Parker. I live for my dreams. Because reality, is short lived. Dreams are eternal.

I noticed something since my conversation with Adrian. When I took the risk and told him in no uncertain terms there was a chance on the table and he ran away; there has been this awkward silence between us. I’ve not pursued it or tried to rebuild the bridge that wasn’t burned.

That’s the thing though isn’t it.

No bridges were burned.

No closure was given.

But this year, since the turning of the year, in the moment that the New Year came to be and I felt it in my soul I have just had this knowing. This knowing that whatever I do I will not make a bad decision on inspiration from a good feeling impulse. I know that everything is always working out for me. But this year, I know that everything is working out for me. I have known that this year isn’t the year of momentous love. Trust me, when I met Adrian, I knew at the turning of the year it would be a year of hope and love, and a few short weeks later I met him. The next year, even though Adrian and I were in a relationship the change of the year felt wrong and sad and hard and like it was going to be another life altering year. We broke up a few months after that New year. I changed a lot that year. So what’s that the first two years since Adrian walked into my life? Then was the New Year of 2016, and that felt like the year of 2016 was personal transformation feeling, like I was different and I was going to be different on my own terms because of my choosing to do so. And honestly, I am not the same girl I was at the start of 2016 as I was at the end of it, I am somewhat a completely different person than the one that Adrian first met. I changed for the better. So this year, when the New Year began, I felt something different. Certainty? Yeah, Clarity? Yeah, but I felt so much more. Like this is the year that it all fell completely into place. Everything I have been working for, or working towards. This is the year of my passion being the best career I could ever have. My intuition is telling me that this year, is the year that everything works out for me however I want it to.

That certainty. How did I get it? How can I just know these things?

Why am I questioning something that is so good?

I love knowing and just enjoying knowing with certainty.

I love him. I love me as well. It’s something I have been learning, it hasn’t been a natural transition. But even if my actions are questionable from the outside, they are done for the right reasons, in the right way that I have access to at the time.

I love him and I don’t want him to go away for work again. I want him to get a job nearby, I want to see what would happen with a second chance. I have been so scared of daring to dream what it looks like. I have been scared to dream or visualise the chance we could have and what it would look like. So scared that it feels safer to imagine winning the lottery. So scared that it feels safer to imagine nothing. To stop imagining because of the doubt within myself of what if it never happens. I need to be ok with it if it never happens. I need to be ok to letting go and not clinging to the hope of a second chance. Yes, deep down, I know we love each other, more than I am capable of expressing, and we could easily fall back together and work on the relationship, we could make it work. But the fear is always there, I fear being hurt, I fear the pain of it and how it feels like your heart is ripped from your chest. The fear is real because it has happened before, it has happened already. The kind of hurt and emotional anguish that it feels like you have cried yourself to the brink of death, your eyes sting and your throat feels like it is on fire. Your lungs are desperate for some real air and you physically cry with your whole body, every single cell in my body hurt so bad when he was cold. It was like he had taken a sheath of ice and cut it jagged and smashed it through my ribcage into my heart and left it there. It hurt more than I know how to express. I fear that ever happening again, I fear ever feeling that helpless and worthless ever again.

But here’s the thing, I know it won’t happen again. I am strong, I will let it hurt a little but I know I can pick myself up again. I know I can survive. I know that I can be happy again, because I am happy now, even writing this with tears streaming down my cheeks. I know I can be happy. I know I won’t ever let my relationship with someone else be more important than the relationship with myself. I am enough. I am enough. I am worthy of never feeling that pain again. The pain is the past and I am letting go of the past. I am letting go of the pain of the resistance of my own happiness and joy. I can be strong enough to survive and thrive and I would never let myself feel that hurt again, because I am not the same person I was and I know that I will never have that hurt again. I will never let myself be so vulnerable in my self-worth. I am enough. I am worthy and I am full of love and joy and hope and happiness. That second chance could be fear free, unconditional, eternal love and happiness.

The pre-order link is available now… Due to release 10th June!

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The Diary of Elliot Parker

.: Entry Fifty-Two :.

My name is Elliot Parker, in another world.

I finally found my sea legs on the water again.

The Captain had got the ship out into the ocean as fast as he could as far as he could. I could see the guilt in the crew, the mates they had left dead on the sand in the ambush. The plan had worked, culling mutinous wood. That didn’t mean it didn’t come without a price. A little low moral had spread through the ship, even the joy and bounty of a stolen creation like this. The ship we stole from the sea of blue and cream having left the other two damaged.

Enough lead and sailing away and into the depth of the sea.

I am tired of this ship already. Some of the crew is idle. I can see the boredom of an easy sail now we are out of riskier water.

It’s time I had some fun. It’s been long enough. I pull over some of the buckets and a couple of the remaining crew, the few men we had lost, the rotten wood had left a decent enough bunch of men. I begin to show them something. I tap out a pattern in the buckets and get a couple of the crew to join in. A few instruments we had found below deck were usable, but none of the men had taken them as their own. I get a couple of spare crew to join to tap out onto the metal trims. They are building a song, something easy and fun.

“What are you doing?” The Captain cuts through the start of the fun.

“Enjoying myself Captain.” I don’t wait for his answer; I pull him out into a small space open on the deck. Occasionally I have heard the crew sing, now this time it’s to the tune of my own song. They kept it simple enough and for a moment I let my mask drop, I am smiling, inside and out. I pull the Captain, “come on and follow my lead” I begin to move and he follows me.

Normally he has me mesmerised in his ministrations trying to pull me into embracing every facet of myself, trying to unleash what he hopes will be the path to my desire. But right now, he is certainly not the man in charge. My clothes may be borrowed from what was left behind of the blue and cream sea. The trousers are a little tight and the shirt is loose. A short length of trim ripped from one of the blue blazer makes a good belt, it gives enough of a nod to a figure I had forgotten about, the figure he is memorizing as I move.

This time I am going to be the temptation that breaks his own resolve. The crew fall into a good rhythm working together, some dance, some sing, some create the intoxicating beat that we are dissolving into. The world begins to fall away, I mouth to him “follow my lead” taking a step back, then two. Soon he is trusting me as I dance having the nature take over, the kind of dance that the Princess was never allowed to indulge in. I take his hands, raise them over my head and cross my own as I turn into his body. My back is back to his chest, my arms wrapped around myself, but I pull him that bit closer loosening the grip around myself. Slowly I release his hands and let him settle them on my moving waist as we snake side to side in the rhythm. I can feel his temptation his breath rushing past my ear. I put my hands on top of his own holding my waist. This time, I know he is surprised, I guide his hands down and up between my hip and waist with every gyration.

I pull his hands off of me and spin out and away from him. Now I’m dancing on my own, sort of. My body seems to have a mind of its own springing through the river of music. The crew have been sliding through the tempo, getting faster every step away from the Captain, slowing every time I let the Captain close and tease him to my own beat. Raking my fingers through my hair just letting the freedom to let every care spring free for a short while. The Princess behaving badly.

After a while the ship needs more attention as the wind pulls and whips at our sails.

“Was that so hard?” I whisper in the Captain’s ear as I walk past him.

His hand stops me landing on my waist. “I am.” I giggle and walk away, swaying my hips and going up the stairs to the helm to get a better look at the deck.

I feel the Captain’s eyes watching me. I can’t help but wonder how long I play the innocent girl now, not with him seeing the first glimpses of me embracing my own sensuality. I pull my attention from the Captain and watch the sea birds that have taken to following the ship diving at the fish skimming the sea surface.

I am brought back to reality. “You are the worst behaved Princess I have ever met.” The Captain’s quiet growl in my ear had my complete attention.

“Am I the only one you have met?”

“No. But the only one who has ever been the one to cast that spell.”

“What spell?”

“The spell that has me addicted to you, the one that has me bending to your will.”

“I haven’t cast a spell.”

“I know.” I turn to face him, leaning my back upon the railing that I had been looking over. Our eyes met. For now, his mask was abandoned, I could see the intoxication in his eyes as he pulled my mouth up to meet his. I can feel him smile as he kisses me and I return his kiss. “This kind of addiction can’t be conjured.”

I pull his body closer to mine as we kiss, the wind whipping through my hair lashing out at our faces carelessly in our embrace.

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The Diary of Elliot Parker

.: Entry Fifty-One :.

My name is Elliot Parker. But right now, it’s not.

The morning damp and chill in the tunnels had set through the crew. Getting everyone walking was hard enough, but now the tunnel floor wasn’t so easy to walk on. The sea had left the rocks beneath our feet slippery and uneasy. The crew gave of air of more than discomfort. The Captain pushed us on walking at full speed, as fast as possible on the slippery rocks under foot. He had taken to standing just behind me, it seems I had become the one leading the way on the surest footings. The further we walked I could feel the free fresh breeze tainted with sea water. I followed the breeze out into where the chamber opened, following the slowly receding water.

“Captain do you trust me?” I turn as his crew begin to spill out into the chamber muttering amongst themselves. The chamber opened into more tunnels, more openings.


“Just answer my question.”


“Do you trust your crew, completely?”

“Why are you asking?”

“Because I will need your protection from them, if we want to stand a chance to get out of these tunnels and not die.”

“Do what you need to do.” I examine his expression, beyond the mask, I can see tension filling his face preparing himself for a fight.

I crouch down onto the rocks in the very middle of the chamber. I push my fingertips into the silt on the centre stone, I feel the chamber begin to hum with energy. I’m not the only one. The Captain is trying to keep his crew, trying to keep nerve. I am using every of shred of my nerve to reach what I need to read, I follow our trail back, a few streams of blue and cream strands are beginning to walk the tunnels, other streams above in the cave, a few beginning to double back. I begin examining the chamber tunnels, one by one, some rise and fall like a trap. A few tunnels have lurking eyes like saucers filled with danger and death. And only one tunnel that leads to open air.

I begin the lead and in less than three hours we are out of the tunnels and caves and chambers. The ground beneath our feet, crunching, a stone beach sprawling. The place where stone and sea kiss. Boulders, pebbles and driftwood for all the eye can see. We are at the base of a cliff, a temporary beach, beaten to existence by the moons influence on the sea, and soon to be beaten again. We are a turning away from the ships. I walk at full speed, still I haven’t spoken a word. The Captain and the crew trying to keep pace with me, the cold made them stiffer, less swift. And right now, I feel agile I as I navigate my way over boulders and begin to walk in land towards the sprouting grass. Breaching the top of the hill I get the first view of something other than pebbled beach.

I feel a hand clamp around my wrist. I whip around to see the Captain’s firm hand holding me, his crew trailing behind. “You want the ship? You need me.”

“I know. But what are you planning?”

“An ambush”

“For whom? Them or us?”

I smile, “now, Captain, you look nervous.”

“You would too, the crew know you got us out of that place with magic.”

“Then they should be grateful”

“They are scared.” His crew had caught up and kept a cautious distance, not too distant though, they still wanted to know what was being said.

“They are scared, or you are scared, Captain?” Appearances must be kept. I exaggerated my flinching reaction when his hand collided with the side of my face. It hurt, I won’t lie. His crew were watching, and as power plays go, this worked quite well. The Captain, below his mask of being furious wore an expression of remorse. I let the mask twist between surprise, hurt, anger, fear and resentment. But the expression I wore, was a smirking smile. Well played.

It was now that I caught that brief snapshot of a stolen glance at the crew. It was now that I took in whose expression was smug, smirking, happy, eager. I took in the few expressions that wore disagreement, pity, sympathy, something softer than they would want to be seen. In those few seconds I saw just who I could work with, and who I would have to keep an eye on, the test confirmed my suspicions, the test confirmed what the sight wanted me to see, what it wanted to warn me over.

Now I am caught between walking away and the Captain’s grip still tight on my wrist.

I pull my wrist free, an angry mask, and walk ahead in the direction of the ships.

“Where do you think you are going?”

“To go get me a ship.”

“You mean, to go get us a ship” I hear fat Shane question.

“Same difference” I shout over my shoulder still walking. I hear the patter of their feet on the grass making to keep up with me.

We stop in a small sheltered pelt of land, hidden from see and land, you would only know where to find our shelter if magic flowed stronger through their veins than in my own. I like being ambushed as much as the next person, not very. The Captain had kept me on a visibly shorter leash than before. Unlike before, there was no degree of privacy. The Captain wouldn’t let me leave his side for even a minute. The Captain must keep up appearances is what he told me. A good night’s sleep would be hard, for the Captain or myself. The stakes tomorrow were undoubtedly high, but the risk of a mutiny was a growing concern amongst certain crew members. In the depth of the night I pulled the Captain away and aside, pretending to need a little girl’s privacy.

“Captain, tomorrow there will be an opportunity to cut the wood of mutiny, I advise you take it.”

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