Health appointments have left little time for writing this week, so for a change I thought you might be interested in reading an extract from one of my books.
At the moment the revised version is only available in Ebook format until the migration of Createspace to Kindle Publishing is completed. It seem to have been a bigger project than they expected, as anyone who has been trying to upload new books to Amazon will appreciate. 😀
Here are the first two chapters- see what you think.
Chapter 1: Abigail
Hi. My name is Abigail. I hate the name so it’s not surprising I’m normally known to my friends as A.
I was brought up in a white, middle-class suburban background with a mother, a father and an elder brother. Almost the regulation two point five children as Mum lost a baby after my brother was born, which was why they adopted me when she discovered she couldn’t have any more.
So I was theoretically the youngest.
Dad worked for the local council earning a normal, average wage and we lived in a three-bedroom house in the suburbs of London.
I went to the local junior school, passed my eleven-plus and progressed to grammar school.
University was not an option but I did have a good education, which enabled me to find a job at sixteen with decent career prospects.
Those were not the days of political correctness or equality of the genders. There was still disparity between male and female wages, but I managed to rise through the ranks to become a fairly senior junior manager.
It was not easy but I had been brought up to understand you were due nothing unless you worked for it.
Many of my peers left school without any qualifications and ended up working for peanuts in the local take-away.
So perhaps the times I stayed in studying while they were out clubbing and meeting boys was worth it in the long run.
Although not rich we paid our bills on time, had a good second-hand car and enjoyed a holiday once a year.
The mortgage payments on the house were kept up-to-date and would be paid off by the time my parents retired. They would have their pensions to start to enjoy the life for which they had worked so hard.
Even if life was sometimes a struggle, we had pride in that whatever we had was bought and paid for. We could look at our possessions and enjoy the fact they were earned honestly by hard graft.
Chapter 2: Beatrice
I’m called Bea.
Don’t know why you want to know about me. Everything in my life is crap.
Yeah, life’s a bitch.
My mum brung me up as a single parent. Was gonna say the taboo F word but don’t know if that would be allowed.
No idea who my father was, but I’ve had plenty of so-called uncles for as long as I can remember. Think Mum is trying to regain her lost youth and goes for anything in trousers what makes her feel good.
Some of them were okay, but most treated me as a nuisance getting in the way of their sex life, which was the only thing they were interested in. The rest looked on me as fair game despite my age.
I grew up quick and learnt to defend myself from groping hands by a quick kick in the B…, which was the only language they understood.
When I tried to tell Mum, she thought it was just jealousy or teenage hormones, so I learnt to look after myself. I was on my own.
If you want to know anything about how to get through the social form filling or how to get a pay-out from the system, ask me. I’m an expert.
If things get hairy, all you have to do is move to a different address and by the time they’ve caught up with your past record you’ve moved on again.
Playing the game. You have to take advantage when you can, just to make life worth living.
If you want something special and haven’t got the cash, well the shops are full. If you get caught you go into the poor little me routine and most of the time the courts accept it.
As I said life’s a bitch but you learn to fight it, however and wherever you can.
Most of my mates let the hormones take over and ended up at the social with squalling kids, nowhere to live and a boyfriend who had done a runner as soon as he found out she was pregnant.
The boys wanted the fun but not the responsibility. At least I learnt from their mistakes.
By the time I was fourteen I was at the local family planning clinic and insisting I be put on the pill. Mum had to give her consent as I was underage. Either she understood or just wasn’t interested enough to care either way.
At least I could have some fun without the risks, even if the boys did call me a slag.
End of extract.
Copyright © Voinks (2015)/Val Portelli (2018)
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the author or publishers.
If you would like to read more it’s available to purchase here:
ABC Destiny Amazon UK
ABC Destiny Amazon US
or there are a few of the original paperback copies available (UK only) at cost plus postage. Contact Voinks@hotmail.co.uk for more information.