Number-one bestselling author
Clare Marie Bleecker is just like every other sixteen-year-old girl, full of hope and dreams and thoughts of boys…also, she’s a serial killer.
Living with her grandparents, Clare goes to the local Catholic school and she only kills those who deserve it. Men who would drive by and try to pick up young girls, for instance. She’s good at heart, she’s a vegan, loves animals and kills people. Hey, everyone has their own problems, right?
Except Clare’s problems are just beginning. Pickman Flats is a small town known for its wineries. Dead bodies tend to stick out. When the body of a man is found, a witness says that they saw a young girl in a DeFeo Catholic High School uniform walking away from the car and that young girl matches Clare’s description. Just because she killed the guy doesn’t make her guilty, though.
Soon, the police are everywhere she is. They question Clare and her friends at school, but Clare keeps cool. She knows that it was really other Clare that took over so she feels no guilt over what she did. Clare has other things to worry about. She has auditions for a play, has to avoid the popular bitch brigade, spend time with her friend Julie and wonder if anything will ever happen with Wade or Truman. She’s just a regular high school girl, except for the fact that she kills people.
Then her world gets turned upside down. She spots a guy who looks exactly like the man she killed earlier and he’s driving the same car. She follows him to his house and knows that it holds secrets she needs answers to. Clare has no idea that her problems are about to get so much worse.
She must remember the cardinal rule: slay responsibly…
I loved everything about this book. When I picked it up, I thought I would read about a typical sixteen-year-old girl, but there is nothing typical about Clare. The serial killing aside, she is surprisingly deep and so reasonable when she’s talking to you. This is not a Hannibal Lector psycho who shows no remorse. This is a girl with deep feelings and deep emotions. I was so impressed by Don Roff’s writing. I started the book expecting not to like her, but I actually rooted for her and wanted her to get away with what she was done. She’s a killer with a conscience.
Don Roff is also skilled at creating characters that are so real. You’d think that Clare at Sixteen would hold all the stereotypical characters like the jocks and the dorky best friend and the popular girls. It does…but not in the way you think. Roff gives everyone enough screen time so that they defy the stereotypes and become their own people. I really admire that skill in a novel that’s set in and around a high school. The world that Roff created around Clare came alive. I grew up in suburbia and he’s brought it to life brilliantly.
Told in rapid fire chapters, Calre at Sixteen just pulls you in and doesn’t let go. I think what is so wonderful about Clare at Sixteen is the humanness about it. Clare is a killer that I actually cared for. She is a character and a killer with undeniable depth and wonderful taste in music. I wanted her to succeed and perhaps even to thrive. I’m not sure what that says about me, but I am waiting eagerly for the next book in the series.
Until then, slay responsibly…
This is my first flash fiction using The Story Engine, created by Peter Chiykowski. It had to include a curious Explorer wants to stop being haunted by a necklace but they will have to learn something difficult. I set myself a limit of 1,000 words. Check out The Story Engine here: https://storyenginedeck.myshopify.com/
Cedric knew that he was in trouble when he began to dream of the fucking thing.
He saw the dammed necklace every night when he closed his eyes. He would be having a really good naughty dream with some naked guy and they were getting all horned up and then Cedric would turn to look at the man he was with and the fucker would be wearing the necklace. Cedric wished he had never seen the fucking thing.
“I still don’t see why you’re upset about this.” Jonathan said. “Why are you going on about a stupid necklace. You have your next job lined up, don’t you? You’re supposed to scour the jungle to find some elusive statue or something, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Then we should go and do that, and you can stop moaning about a necklace.”
Cedric gave Jonathan an eye roll. “What will you be doing while I’m up to my neck in jungle leaves?”
“I’ll be keeping the bed warm and taste testing the locally made mai tais of course.” Jonathan blew Cedric a kiss. “Why can’t you let this go?”
“I don’t know.” Cedric shook his head, but it didn’t make things any clearer. “I have no fucking idea. I had it in m hands and I just let it go.”
He really had no idea why it haunted him so much, only that he had to have it. Why would he want lapis lazuli necklace? What was the call it had over him? He shook his head again and it still didn’t help.
“Honey, you gotta chill.” Jonathan said, running his fingers through his curling dark hair to get it off of his face. Cedric loved it when Jonathan did this because his bright green eyes were even more visible. “If this necklace is bothering you so much, you have to go find it.”
“I already know where it is.”
“Of course you do, fancy explorer man. So, go and find it and bring it home.” A look crossed over Jonathan’s face and his eyes darkened form jade to agate. “Wait, why are you wearing that look on your face? That’s the one you usually wear when you’ve woken up next to someone you don’t remember.”
“How do you know what that look is?”
“Because it was the first time you woke up next to me and had no idea who the fuck I was. Good thing I stayed around, huh? Hard to believe that was three years ago.”
“Hard to believe?”
“I wondered if you’d pick up on that. What’s the big deal? Go find this trick that you fucked and then get the necklace. I don’t really see what the big deal is.”
Cedric nodded and pulled on a pair of pants and a t-shirt and a pair of sneakers. “I’ll be gone for a bit.”
“Oh no honey, you can’t just head off into the mysterious unknown. I’m coming with you. Besides, I’m the one that has the car. What you want to go exploring on the subway?” Jonathan snorted. “Good luck with that.” He threw on a t-shirt of his own and a pair of khaki pants. “Just let me get my wallet and then we can go.”
“You really don’t have to do this.” Cedric said. “You won’t enjoy this.”
“I’ll be the judge of that. Come on explorer boy, let’s go.”
When they were ready, they went to the garage and got into Jonathan’s car. It was a subdued little black hatchback. When Cedric had commented on the relative plainness of Jonathan’s, Jonathan had just smiled. “Honey, I sparkle brightly enough for five cars!” Cedric had to admit that he had a point.
“Where are we going?”
“Underground.”
They didn’t talk as they made their way to the subway. Cedric knew exactly which one they had to go to; hadn’t location sprung to mind every time he thought of the necklace? They went down the stairs and paid their ticket to get in. Jonathan followed Cedric who knew exactly where to go. Cedric only hoped that the woman was still there.
They went down even further where the trains went that took you to the west, further away from the city. It wasn’t very busy as there wasn’t much out in the west side, just industrial factories and business parks. You only went there if you had business there.
“Where are we going?” Jonathan asked.
“We’re almost there.” Cedric said.
He led Jonathan down one hallway and then another. They were heading deep into the subterrain levels of the subway station. Hardly anyone ever came down here. The air in this place was stale and the only sound around them were the far-off trains heading west. Then they began to hear music and Cedric knew that they were close.
As they walked further into the empty hallways, the music increased until it was all around them, the voice echoing off of the walls and the high ceilings. Before Cedric was ready, they were standing in front of a woman who sat on the tiled ground. Her head was arched to the ceiling and her eyes were closed. She looked as if she were singing in prayer. Her voice echoed off of the tiles around them and Cedric knew that though the song had no words, this was a song of pain and suffering. He knew that he had been the one to cause that pain. Around her neck was the lapis lazuli necklace, looking as it had all those years ago.
When she was done, there was silence, broken only by her deep breathing and the echo that remained of her song. Cedric took a deep breath of his own and let it out. He repeated this twice more and then cleared his throat.
The woman opened her eyes and they were just as blue as he remembered them, a colour that was reflected in the stone of the necklace.
He took another deep breath. “Hello, Mother.” Cedric said.
It feels truly wonderful to be holding The Ghost Mirror again. It feels almost like the first time all over again. It feels kind of surreal.
When the book was first published way back in 2007, I was married to a different man and I was a different person. Fourteen years can tend to change a person. I certainly don’t recognize myself when I look at pictures of myself during that time. The one thing that I do recognize is my book.
The book began in an odd sort of way. I talk a little bit about this in the forward of the novella. I was out of work and had nothing to do except look for a job and wait for a phone call. My step father Mark knew of my love of writing and told me that I should try writing a novel.
“I’ve only ever written short stories and poems.” I told him.
“So now is the moment to try.” He said. “What do you have now but time? Do you have any ideas? Anything that you would like to try and write?”
“Well, I do have this one idea…” The idea of the last Witch had been rolling around in my head for a long time. A poem seemed far too sparse and a short story didn’t seem like it would offer enough space to tell the tale.
“Write it then.” He said. “When you’re done writing it, you’ll get a job. Just wait and see.”
So I did. I don’t recall how long it took me to write the first draft of The Ghost Mirror. I’m pretty sure that it took me a couple of weeks. About half an hour after I typed the words The End, I got a call for a new position. For that reason, I firmly believe that the magic in The Ghost Mirror if real.
I finally got my paperbacks today and holding them is another kind of wonderful. You can get your copy of The Ghost Mirror here:
Kindle:
Paperback:
Kobo:
https://www.kobo.com/ca/en/ebook/the-ghost-mirror-2
I’m so glad that I made the choice to republish The Ghost Mirror. Now the magic is real again.
There is a
Whirlwind
inside of me. It often
Storms and
Rages
within.
When I’m unable to let it out,
I find that it erupts,
filling the air with white ash
when I open my mouth,
my words burned to nothing
when they touch the air.
Other times,
It is a torrent water of that
f
a
l
l
s
from my eyes.
They drop like small jewels
and I’m struck by their warmth
when the water runs so cold within.
And yet it is also a bright and beautiful
Light
that shines when I put pen to paper
or when I put brush to canvas
and let my spirit speak out loud.