A Glimpse into Cloud Sneezing
Ready for a sneak peek? Prepare to be enchanted! This is your exclusive first look at the stories within Cloud Sneezing. We hope it fills you with joy and inspires you to dive into the full adventure. Get ready to shudder, smile, dream, and maybe even... buy the book!
Whispers of Wonder
20lb. 13s. 4d. by Aimee McGowan
They grabbed me and dragged me into the street, my legs fumbled uselessly behind me, the stones opening the skin on my ankles as they hauled me down towards the square. Their chants started again, slowly at first, just the elders, but it picked up, like a plague catching my neighbours, my friends, each drawn into the rising frenzy.
Cuckoo by Heather Grossart
‘There is nothing wrong with the way I was behaving.’ I was only half sure of that at this point.
‘You were selling everything you owned.’
‘There is nothing wrong with decluttering.’
‘I don’t think that selling your cooker comes under that umbrella.’
I couldn’t argue.
‘Or going out naked to hang out your washing.’
I didn’t remember doing that.
Screams of Terror
Mary Mary by Michele Hinchliffe
"If I remonstrate, if I question, if I wish for myself the things that men assume so freely, then they think me mad. But if I pose as a supplicant, if I suppress what I feel is my truer nature, which is what Monro, my husband, and son seem to desire of me, I win their favour. But I am not free whichever way I go."
Five Find a Body by Charity Reed
We weren’t the only ones that had murder on our minds. Unlike many adults, kids tend to be honest about it.
The Glistening Man by Robin Montgomery-Smith
There was a long pause on the other end of the line.
‘Olivia, I know you’re alone. But you won’t be for long.’
The click from the other end felt as if it were an explosion.
My head pounded with every beat my heart completed. I stood frozen in the hallway for a few seconds to try and work out what to do next. It was as if a voice in my head dictated my next steps.
Breaths of Hope
Untangling Time by Rose Campbell-Smith
Her name—Kala—meant ‘time’ in the old tongue. It was a name whispered with reverence, a name passed down in stories of fate and flow. But now, standing before the loom, it felt like a weight, like a prophecy she never agreed to. Was she meant to move with time—or bend it?
Red Suede Heels by Laura Scott
For the first time at a funeral, there are no rows of pews in front of Layla. She shivers as she shifts on the hard seat and looks around. These high ceilings hold no heat and the festoon of white flowers fade into the fresh white walls. Scattered behind her are fragments of family and friends, and some, since the last time she saw them, have grown lines around their eyes that creep outwards like tree roots. She looks along the row to her right and notices that her mother’s red, glossy lips seem plumper.
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