New Website

Hi,

I have now started to build my website and blog in one place.

Please update your bookmarks and if possible please redo your comments on my official website

The url is:  http://www.carlhackman.com

Many thanks

Best regards

Carl

Draft Of Book Jacket

First Draft Book Cover

Talk about ambitious, cart before horse etc, but I just couldn't resist seeing what it could possibly look like :)

First Chapter of Jaguar

Hi,

Below is the first chapter of my first novel entitled 'Jaguar'.

This is basically the first draft before I get stuck into revision.

The spelling is in English (UK) at the moment so please don't focus too much on that. 

Don't forget to comment and above all Enjoy :)

Chapter 1

Eyes of fire burned through the darkness. A fire fuelled by hatred so intense that the very centre of her soul was a furnace.
   Valaria glared through the wire mesh of her enclosure and growled softly, a growl that would make the hairs on the nape of a grown man’s neck stand on end.
   She paced up and down the perimeter, the frustration of her bondage clearly visible to anyone who might be watching. Aurelius, her mate, lay at the back, near the entrance, his pain evident by his laboured breathing. Each breath sent spasms through his body. No amount of licking could stem the flow of his life’s blood ebbing from the wound inflicted by his keeper earlier that day.
   “Don’t let my cubs be born in captivity Valaria,” he whispered as he felt consciousness slipping away from him. “My time is near but you need to escape to ensure that my young are born free."
   Valaria continued to pace up and down her prison, her gaze alternating between the only thing, in this hell called life, that she loved and the vast expanse of freedom just outside her reach.
   Aurelius had told her to escape, but how?
   Aurelius had said that he wanted his scions, the new life growing within her, to be born free. She could see no way to make his wish come true. All she could see was a lifetime of captivity ahead, for both her and her unborn offspring.
   Her attention snapped back to Aurelius as he drew a long shuddering breath.
   Valaria’s roar pierced the night as her mate’s final breath left his body. The roar of anguish echoed through the countryside sending startled birds into flight and terrestrial animals scurrying for cover.
   Valaria felt suddenly very alone as her only link with home was taken from her.
   She walked up to her mate, his pungent scent still strong as she nuzzled his still form. The healthy sheen was leaving his coat as she watched. No longer did the moon reflect off his coat, painting patterns on the rosettes as he breathed. No longer did his eyes glisten as he looked with love into hers. Now he was still and lifeless, just a piece of meat in her partner’s cast off clothing. She lay down next to him, their coats touching, feeling the remnants of his warmth surround her with a surrogate comfort.

 *

   Valaria slept fitfully that night and dreams of her homeland filled her mind.
   The warm moist air surrounded her coat giving her a dewy sheen. The canopy of trees above her went on forever, or at least as far as she had ever been.
   Her nose twitched and her breathing came in irregular pants as, in her dream, she ran through the forest floor, the damp musty air filling her nostrils. 
   Her first kill flashed through her mind in fragmented pieces: the pounce; the squeals of the Tapier as she brought him down; the smell of terror as she closed her vice like jaws around his trachea abruptly cutting off his cries; the spasmodic death throes as he fought to live.
   She dreamt of the salty taste of his warm blood filling her mouth, she heard the commotion of the birds taking flight and monkeys screeching out their warnings.
   Then she was with Aurelius. She felt his claws digging into her back and his teeth biting into the skin between her shoulders as he poured new life into her.
   And then...
   She dreamt of the two legged animals with their pungent odour, a vile unnatural smell, as they taunted her and prodded her with sticks through the bars of her prison. One pointed a hollow stick in her direction and opened his mouth roaring at her with the other beasts joining in. The stick spat at her and she felt a sharp pain in her flank. She tried to pull the sting out with her teeth but as she tried the forest started to spin and a cloak of darkness enveloped her.
   Her dreams were shattered by the sound of dogs barking and when she awoke her mate was as cold as ice. She stretched out, shaking the freezing cold from her bones and looked around.
   The stench of the cage filled her sensitive nostrils: the stench of stale straw, which hadn’t been changed for weeks; the stench of urine and faeces, which was not only piled up in a corner but also covering her coat; and finally, the stench of rotting meat, laying there, not because she hadn’t wanted to eat or that she was so overfed that she couldn’t, but because that was all she was given, sooner or later when she got hungry enough she would have to eat it.

 *

   With a heavy aching heart she looked at Aurelius, an empty shell of the once proud strong beast that filled her life with meaning. Gently and with infinite tenderness she started to groom him, as if carrying out this act of love would restore him to her. There was no warmth in his body, no purrs of contentment from the carcass she once called mate.
   Valaria felt utterly alone for the first time in her short life. Aurelius was the only anchor to her former world and now he had been torn away from her by one of those cruel two legged beasts. She stopped grooming him as if resigned to her loss and walked away to the front of the enclosure as an act of farewell. She could not bear to look at him anymore. The thing lying in the shadows was not her beloved mate, full of strength and majesty, it was just a husk, hollow and lifeless.
   Valaria vowed, at that moment, to escape as soon as an opportunity arose. She vowed that her cubs would be born free, or she would die trying. Death was better than this, this life of servitude.
   Edward Forsyth walked through the French doors of his study into the bitter winter morning. He took a deep refreshing breath and exhaled a cloud of vapour. Piercing, ice blue, eyes surveyed his estate, a small one in comparison to others owned by his small and exclusive circle of friends. It was large enough, though, to secrete his collection of highly dangerous predators, among them Valaria, a young female Jaguar.
   Edward Forsyth stretched his arms and arched his back to exorcise the cold from his athletic body, a body in surprisingly good shape for his 47 years. The only telltale mark of his age was his silvery grey hair. He had the face of a hawk, alert piercing eyes and hook nose, not dissimilar to some of the specimens in his collection.
   “George? George, where the hell are you?”
   “He’s never around when you need the lazy sod,” growled Edward.
   George Winterbourne’s hazel eyes rolled as he sighed, emitting a cloud of cigarette smoke.
   “Why doesn’t he just leave me alone?” Grumbled George. “I can’t even get a five minute break. I’ve been up since the crack of dawn mucking out his bloody animals.”

 *

   “George, I know you’re skulking around having a smoke somewhere. Get your arse round here now. I’ve got work for you.”
   “Bloody slave driver,” muttered George.
   He stood up and crushed the cigarette butt under the heel of his boot. He ran his fingers through his mop of raven hair, smoothed his close cropped beard and crunched his way up the gravel path that surrounded Eastville Manor.
   Edward’s eyes bored into George, chilling him to the bone, as he rounded the corner of the house. 
   "And where have you been?” Asked Edward, in a dangerous tone.
   “Er, I’ve been seeing to the Snow Leopard sir,” answered George meekly, feeling much smaller than his 6’2”.
   “I’ve told you before, don’t lie to me. The Snow Leopard enclosure is around the other side of the house. So, where have you been?”
   “I... I was having a burn,” admitted George, “sorry.”
   “Look, I don’t mind you have a break but I need to know where you are and what work has been done. Animals need routine and I need to know what has been done so that I can plan the rest of the day.”
   “Sorry sir, it won’t happen again.”
   “It had better not. Now what have you done so far this morning?”
   George felt a surge of panic flow through his body as he pictured the pitch fork entering the side of the male Jaguar. How could he cover up that injury? Hopefully the wound was only superficial and the Jaguar was ok. Damned cat. 
   Aurelius had attacked George’s pitch fork as he had tried to put the Jaguars’ food through the hatch yesterday afternoon. George had panicked and speared Aurelius. He prayed that he hadn’t done any permanent damage to that cat.  Damn, I haven’t checked the Jaguars yet and I’ve got to get to those cats before the boss sees that male. 
   “I’ve done all the way round to the Florida Panther sir,” lied George.
   “Good, that means it’s just the Maned Wolf and the Liger left to do then, eh?”
   “Er... yes sir.”

 *

   “Good, finish those two enclosures and then we’ll go and check on the Jaguars because I’m pretty sure that the female is pregnant.”
   “Yes sir, I’ll report back when I’ve finished up with the two remaining enclosures.”
   Edward turned around and strode back into his study.
   George, by now, was sweating profusely despite the bitter cold.  What am I going to do now? I just hope that the Jaguar is ok. 
   As soon as Edward disappeared through the French doors George bolted. He ran around to the Jaguar enclosure as if the very devil himself was on his tail. As he rounded the corner the still form of the male Jaguar came into view and all colour visibly drained from his face.
   Valaria growled softly and dangerously as she heard, then smelled the familiar scent of, the human that had taken her precious Aurelius from her. But, this time there was an overpowering odour of, of what? FEAR, that is what she could smell. A new and distinct odour that she had never smelled from this human before. She wondered what had caused this change. Little did she know, it was not fear of her that filled George’s very soul, but fear of Edward Forsyth that made him quiver with terror. Edward Forsyth would, literally, kill George if he found out that the male was not only injured, but worse... DEAD!
   Valaria backed further into the shadows, ears flattened and lips curled back into a grimace, bearing lethal saliva speckled teeth, housed in a jaw that could crush a tortoise shell as if it were a Cornish Pasty. Her massive head was held low, lower than her powerful shoulders, as she crouched ready to spring. The smell of fear had changed the stakes and now the human before her was not a dominant beast but PREY!
   George’s mind was working overtime now. If I could get the male out of the enclosure and make it look as if I had killed him while he was trying to escape then perhaps the boss wouldn’t be so mad with me. 
   He went round to the rear of the enclosure and retrieved the offending pitchfork. He also picked up a small coil of rope and tied a noose in one end. His plan consisted of opening the door just enough to enable him to lasso the male Jaguar so that he could drag him out. He would skewer the cat in the side once more this time leaving the pitchfork embedded in its flank, then call for the boss and show him what happened.

 *

   Valaria watched intently as George, apprehensively, approached the door to the enclosure. The sweet perfume of his overwhelming fear caressed her making her almost quiver with pleasure. Every muscle was as taught as a bow string at full stretch just waiting for the archer to release the arrow. And that arrow was Valaria.
   George fumbled in his pocket for the key to the door. The fact that he was sweating profusely did not help matters. The keys jangled as he extracted them from the rubbish that cascaded from his pocket. He placed the keys on the ground and prepared the rope. The pitchfork lay, forgotten, on the grass by his feet.
   The tip of Valaria’s tail twitched back and forth as George retrieved the keys and approached the enclosure. She was quivering with excitement and she had to restrain the adolescent urge to lunge at the mesh of the enclosure before the door was opened.
   George was too intent on Aurelius to notice Valaria concealed in the shadows as he approached the door. The coil of rope was held in his right hand and the keys in his left. The pitchfork remained on the grass behind him.
   The golden glow of Valaria’s eyes penetrated the gloom and she continued to focus on her prey fumbling with the key, trying to place it into the lock on the door. 
   Wait... be patient, she told herself. Not long now. 
   The lock on the door sprang open and George pushed it ajar. He pushed too hard and as it swung open VALARIA POUNCED!
   Edward Forsyth was sat in his study reading when George’s screams shattered his train of thought.
   “What the bloody hell is going on out there?” Shouted Edward, leaping to his feet.
   The screams became more intense as Edward ran out of his study to investigate.
   Valaria had timed her attack to perfection. As the door swung open George was framed in a halo of almost blinding winter sunlight. He was the ideal target and emitting a ferocious roar she launched herself at him.
   George only realised his fatal mistake when the 250 pound roaring mass of teeth and claws hit him like a freight train. George was launched backwards 

 *

as Valaria barrelled into him. The razor sharp claws of her front paws dug into his shoulders to maintain a firm grip on him as her mouth snapped around his neck closing off any further cries. She almost smiled with pleasure as she rejoiced in this act of revenge. She could feel the presence of Aurelius at her side for this kill. She was sure that, out of the corner of her eye, she could see him watching her with approval. She held this position until she could sense the life leave her tormentor. She released George’s flaccid body and scanned her surroundings.
   She was free!
   Edward Forsyth skidded to a halt in a spray of gravel as he rounded the corner to the Jaguar enclosure. His eyes locked onto the form of Valaria and abruptly all his years of experience with wild animals jarred him into action. He brought the shotgun, he was carrying, up on aim and fired. His hands, trembling from the initial shock of seeing Valaria outside her enclosure, meant that the first shot went wide of the mark and his second shot was fired at thin air where only a fraction of a second earlier a female Jaguar was astride her keeper.
   Edward knelt down beside the mangled remains of George, disbelief etched on his face. He looked into eyes frozen open in terror. Even George’s last scream was frozen on his lips.
   Valaria paused by the edge of the line of conifers lining Edward Forsyth’s estate. Her efficient eyes picked out the forms of the two humans who had caused her mate so much pain and humiliation. They looked small and insignificant now, not the domineering beasts who used to make her cower before them like a young cub before its father.
   Edward looked up, his eyes drawn to a point on the horizon, a point where his eyes met those of Valaria. The power of her gaze left him shivering and wanting to turn away but he was transfixed by her glare and in that brief moment Edward felt fear for the first time in his life.
   Then... she was gone, like a phantom departing with the night. 

***

Introduction To My Blog

This blog is primarily a sounding board for fiction novels that I am writing.  I would love constructive comments on the items I post.  This will allow me to revise anything that does not work for you, the readers.

The items will be sample chapters of my fiction, enjoy :)