Moon-Sitting Giveaway!!!


Moon-Sitting Giveaway!!!

Just a quick post this week to announce the Moon-Sitting Giveaway!

It’s the Hunter’s Moon today, so I thought it was time for the next Moon-Sitting related treat. This week I’ll be running a giveaway, giving you guys the chance to get hold of a copy of Moon-Sitting before it’s release on November 12th. I have ONE signed proof copy of Moon-Sitting up for grabs.

You can enter into the prize draw through Instagram, Twitter, or my brand new Facebook page! There are three ways to enter on each site (like, share and comment with your favourite space fact on the Moon-Sitting Giveaway posts). However, remember, you must be following me on the relevant platform for your entries to be counted (i.e. if you like the Instagram post, you need to follow me on Instagram for the entry to count for the prize draw). There are nine ways to enter in total!

This competition is international! So feel free to enter even if you’re not UK based. I will ship anywhere. However, bear in mind the book is in English 😉

Entries must be in before 00:01 (GMT) on the 20th of October!

Good luck to you all!


P.S. Remember: The Moon-Sitting ebook is now available for pre-order on ALL Amazon sites. It will release (along with the paperback) on the 12th of November. Get that date in your calendar 😀


Moon-Sitting: Section Release and Other Goodies


Moon-Sitting: Section Release and Other Goodies


So, yesterday was a bit of a kerfuffle. Between getting a flu jab and e-mailing folks about ARC copies, I accidentally published the paperback copy of Moon-Sitting a whole month early. After a frantic call to KDP, I discovered that they don’t offer paperback pre-orders and managed to get Moon-Sitting taken down. Ah, the wonders of being a first time indie author.

That being said, I am still in the mood to celebrate! Firstly, I am finally formatting free! Moon-Sitting was uploaded to KDP in the wee hours of Saturday morning and my proof copies are on their way. Unless something’s horrendously wrong, I don’t have to stare at fonts and section breaks again for some time! In addition, I have discovered the pre-order tab on KDP reports, and people HAVE ACTUALLY PRE-ORDERED THE MOON-SITTING EBOOK. You have no idea how happy this made me yesterday, after two weeks solid of staring at text.

So, to celebrate the above, I thought it was about time I gave you a taster of things to come. Below you will find the first 1,102 words of Moon-Sitting (I couldn’t find a nice round number to stop on, it irks me too). If you like them there words, and find yourself hankering for more of Lucky’s adventure, the ebook is already available for pre-order here (or search your version of Amazon for Moon-Sitting) and the paperback will be released on the 12th of November. Remember, liking, sharing and commenting on my posts about Moon-Sitting also helps me a HUGE amount. Algorithms are pesky things beasts, but interaction helps make Moon-Sitting visible.

For the latest news on Moon-Sitting, you can follow this blog, my Twitter (@EM_Writing) or my Instagram (@em0rt). There might be a giveaway happening some time soon ~waggles brows.

I’ve also left a link to something special at the end of this blog post, so stick around!

Moon-Sitting: Opening Pages

The Moon fell into the Ocean and the Waves wept. Their tears swept the lands clean and left the World feeling painfully empty. And so, to fill the aching void, the World gave birth to us, the people of Infinity. The World smiled and danced around the Stars with joy.

That’s the story we tell children when they ask how Infinity came to be. It’s the fairy tale we were told to tell. A bedtime story for tiny tots. If children ask why the Moon fell, their parents shuffle awkwardly and say it was a silly Moon, or a sleepy Moon. They don’t tell them the truth.

The truth would give them nightmares.

Hell, I’m thirty-seven and it still gives me nightmares.

Every time I close my eyes, I find myself walking toward my cabin door. There’s an angry red light coming through the windows and the metal walls are humming with energy. As I touch the latch, I feel every hair stand upright. My skin tingles.

I push the door open and step out onto the deck. I look at the Moon. It’s glowing. I’ve never seen it glow before. Part of me wants to run back to my computer to check the readings, but something stronger is pulling me away from the old cargo ship I call home and down onto the pontoon.

Before I know it, I’m running along the floating jetty, out into the middle of the ocean. The waters are completely still. No waves. Not even a ripple from my weight skittering along the surface. I pause and look down. No face looks back at me. I feel my nose wrinkle and my brow furrow, but I don’t see it. So I continue running. And running.

The Moon sits two miles off the southern coast of Infinity’s single mass continent. The original scientists that held our moon-sitting posts positioned most of the bases far enough away that they would have time to send a warning, should the Moon cause another unnatural disaster. Hector resides in the shipping container five miles from the shore, and Belle lives ten miles inland, in an old caravan. The cargo ship, however, positioned itself right on the beach. I think we’d all prefer it to be further away from the Moon, but it was too useful not to convert for moon-sitting.

As I run, I think of my fellow moon-sitters. I wonder if they’re watching, if they see me sprinting. They must think I’m mad. My dark skin and scutes flake away, revealing ice-white flesh and new, pearly horn. I worry that the light from the Moon is burning me away, but it doesn’t hurt.

Then comes the moment where I’m standing at the foot of the Moon. I’ve never been there in real life. Council law dictates that we must stay away from the Moon unless given special permission. Moon-sitters can only break this law in an emergency, or else face imprisonment. See, the enormous spherical structure isn’t actually a moon. Not really. We don’t know what it is, just that it didn’t so much fall as land with a big enough bump to send tsunamis and earthquakes skittering across our planet’s surface.

In my dreams, the jetty ends two feet from the Moon’s smooth, clean face. I have to hold my hand over my eyes and squint to look at it through the scarlet light. Now I’m close, I feel the vibrations coming from the Moon in my bones. It makes me feel like the world is swimming and I throw up into the sea. I wipe my mouth and stand tall, trying to get my footing back. I breathe deeply – in through my nose, out through my mouth – and reach my hand out towards the Moon. I hover the scutes on my knuckles an inch from the surface. I can’t feel any heat, so I touch it.

Noise explodes out of the Moon. It blasts me away and, as I slide arse-backwards along the pontoon, I see the waves rise high above me, like two enormous hands reaching out of the ocean. They slam down onto my chest, pulling me and the bridge under the water. I see the metal and plastic tear in two and wonder how I’m still alive. Then I blink myself awake.


Almost every morning since I moved here, I’ve woken up covered in sweat, with the taste of salt water in my mouth. I stumble to the bathroom, check my reflection has returned, shower and swill my mouth out with root water. We Infinitians haven’t quite gotten around to figuring out how to make dental cleaner again yet. It’s been on the to-do list for a while; the public supply ran out when I was still a kid.

Body and mouth clean, I return to my living quarters and turn on my computer. Marcus – who was the ship’s original tenant and my mentor – built the machine from parts found in Infinity’s last remaining city. He built similar setups in the shipping container and caravan too, as well as setting up the wind turbines that power everything here. Infinity was fortunate enough to have a number of good minds, people who understood how things worked, survive the Moon’s arrival, but things are still not quite the same.

This morning, when I turn on my computer, it brings up the usual readings: a consistent low-level vibration, standard temperature, no signs of life. The Moon is an angry black hole on my screen. I pull back my curtains and look at it through the window. Even half-submerged in the ocean, it’s gigantic. The Moon looms over everything along the coast as far as the eye can see, with its summit five miles above sea level and its diameter a perfect ten miles wide. At certain times of year I get very little direct light.

Most people in City have only ever seen the Moon in pictures. They’re lucky. In the early days, they ran a few small memorial trips for folks to pay their respects. Not many people were interested in going anywhere near the Moon, but Mum brought me when I was still young. Funnily enough, I think the nightmares started after that, but back then it was just me running in the dark. I’m fast, but I think I had to run so far that I never quite understood what I was running to, until I returned to start my moon-sitting apprenticeship with Marcus.

I sit down at my desk and send a message to Hector and Belle:

L: Good morning. Same old sphere. You?

An Additional Gift:

If this whet your appetite, you might also like to pop on over to Youtube, where I’ve created a Moon-Sitting playlist. Some songs have a pretty strong connection to a particular scene, others give a general vibe or energy. You might also notice some similarities between the artwork and the images in Moon-Sitting. Moon-Sitting is an idea that seemingly sprang into my head from nowhere. However, a couple of these songs have been on my playlist for a long while (Wildfire by Slow Magic and Way Back by Vicetone). These, along with some of the tracks on my personal playlist, may well have been a subconscious influence. They definitely kept be going through writing, editing and formatting 😉

Final note:

I really want to thank everyone who’s supported this little project so far. I’ve loved writing since I was a child, and pretty soon I’ll be able to hold my own book in my hands. The fact that it’s self-published makes it all the more special. Moon-Sitting will exist because of my own force of will and because of the kindness and enthusiasm of others.

So thank you, and I hope you’re having a good weekend!


P.S. If you’re a reviewer interested in a digital ARC, please fill in this form.

Moon-Sitting: The Long Road to the Edge of Infinity (a.k.a. Progress Update)


Moon-Sitting: The Long Road to the Edge of Infinity (a.k.a. Progress Update)

Hello! And welcome to year two of Emma-tries-to-get-control-of-a-short-story-that-got-massively-out-of-hand: A Moon-Sitting Story. Yes, May 11th was the first anniversary of the night I sat down to write a quick bit of sci-fi. Now Moon-Sitting weighs in at 30,195 words and I’m on my 5th version of the ending, but we might actually be getting somewhere!

Of course, I don’t want to put my cart before my canter-grazer, but my last beta-read had only one comment (and it was quick fix). Moon-Sitting is now with a couple of sets of fresh eyes, in order to double check that it is actually an enjoyable piece of fiction, and that I haven’t somehow brain-washed my usual set of critics into thinking I’m a good writer. All limbs crossed, I should have a finished manuscript within the next month.

Until then, where does that leave me? Well, I now get to explore the amazing world of self-publishing and all the marketing gubbins that comes with that. This morning, I sat and wrote my very first marketing plan, having spent the last week watching marketing videos by Jenna Moreci and spit-balling ideas with @FictionalK. It’s still a little rough around the edges, but I do have a first step!

What is this magical step, you ask? Well! I want to start compiling a list of reviewers who are interested in reading adult sci-fi novellas. This might be booktubers, book bloggers, or folks who are big users of Goodreads. I did put out a tweet about this a couple of weeks ago, and got a few volunteers, but I didn’t have a blurb at the time. But ~drum rolls~ I do now:


The Moon fell into the Ocean and the Waves wept.

Infinity was once home to a thriving civilisation. That is, before the Moon arrived. The enormous, spherical structure brought with it death and destruction, wiping out most of the population with a series of earthquakes and tsunamis.

Since then the Moon has sat silently on the southern edge of Infinity’s mass continent.

Lucky Marsh is one of three moon-sitters charged with monitoring the Moon, acting as a living alarm system for Infinity’s last city. They must watch, but never touch: that’s the golden rule of moon-sitting. However, for the ever-curious Lucky, that rule has become increasingly difficult to abide.

Her nightmares compel her to do more. Her feet betray her while she sleeps.


If you like the sound of the above and would like an ARC (advanced review copy) please fill in this form. GDPR wise, I will only use this information to check that you are actually a reviewer and send you a copy of the book. Please note, I can only offer digital ARC’s, but the book will be available in both digital and paperback upon release.

I will also be running a couple of giveaways in the build up to Moon-Sitting’s release, so make sure you follow me here, or over on my Twitter (@EM_Writing).

Now I’m off to play Two Point hospital and try not to jitter nervously in anticipation of new beta-feedback.


Love y’all,


P.S. If you’re looking for something to keep you going while you’re waiting for Moon-Sitting, check out my short story Moth Child.

Review: The Last Good Kiss

the last good kiss

Review: The Last Good Kiss

Relevant Pre-Amble:

I’m fairly certain I would never have encountered The Last Good Kiss by James Crumley if it weren’t for my Vlogbrothers marathon back in 2011. In his introduction to the late Fireball Wilson Roberts (a.k.a. Willie, John’s westie) John Green quoted the book’s first line:

When I finally caught up with Abraham Trahearne, he was drinking beer with an alcoholic bulldog named Fireball Roberts in a ramshackle joint just outside of Sonoma, California, drinking the heart right out of a fine spring afternoon.

As opening lines go, it’s a real hook. There’s so much detail, mood and dog packed into that sentence, it’s hard not to feel a compulsion to read on. So I tracked down a copy (then got distracted by years of university work, shh). Of course, this was before the latest reprint of Crumley’s works, so the edition that landed on my door step was published in 1988 (ten years after the book’s original run) and included the inscription:

the last good kiss12th December 1990

Dear Daddy,

Put your foot up and get into this riveting good read

Hope it takes your mind of things


David x

I don’t know who David is, but I hope his daddy enjoyed the ride as much as I did.

Actual Review:

Now here’s the thing, I don’t know that I’d call The Last Good Kiss riveting. As plotlines go, the story felt fairly straight forward. It had its twists and turns, but as someone who takes great pleasure in figuring out mysteries before they unfurl, I can’t say this held any surprises.

However, there are certain books that just become an experience. I remember as much about where I was sat while reading this, as I do about the content of this blood-soaked interstate noir. I can see myself, enjoying some blazing Welsh sunshine on the bench in the garden, as I learnt how Betty Sue vanished into the Streets of San Francisco (got out of her boyfriend’s car and just evaporated). I can also recall PI Sughrue uncovering Betty Sue’s fate, while I rested myself (and my irritated stomach) on a park bench in Brooklyn. The Last Good Kiss might have a simple plot line, but it’s conveyed through bright, colourful language that somehow pulls everything into focus. Everything inside and outside the book gets the saturation knocked up a few pegs.

On the other hand, it’s also a book full of characters that will make you grind your teeth. In most cases, I would say this is a good thing (it’s nice to have characters you can’t stand), but there were times when I would have quite liked to smack Sughrue and Trahearne upside the head, irl. I won’t even attempt to explain how an unwashed private dick and his washed up writer buddy manage to coerce so many women into bed. Some combination of the genre, the fact this was written in the 70’s,  and the asshole nature of the narrator (Sughrue) just made me begrudgingly accept the poor treatment and representation of women, and the implausible number of sexual encounters the men in this book have. There are at least a range of female characters, and even those that seem to have been written purely for titillation are given a modicum of agency…though sometimes after the fact.

The Last Good Kiss is definitely a book of its time, but I would say it has a depth of style that makes it worth reading.

Should you read this book?

  • Read if you like noir, or if you’re into crime fiction and fancy something with a little less detecting and a lot more guns.
  • Read if you want something to sit in the sun with, while drinking bourbon, so you can pretend you’re a grubby PI in California.
  • Read if you’re in a bar alone and don’t want to talk to anyone.
  • Don’t read if you can’t deal with 1970’s sexism.
  • Don’t read if you can’t deal with animal death, or in fact human death.


4/5 loved the sleuthing, not the sleazing.


Happy reading,


Side Note: I have to say, when I started reading The Last Good Kiss I was surprised that this is one of John Green’s favourites. For some reason I’ve always seen him as a YA romance author, but now I can completely see how The Last Good Kiss has influenced his work. After all, how many of his novels are about an awkward yet oddly charismatic guy/girl trying to solve a mystery…usually in the shape of a person?

Review: Mindhunter


Review: Mindhunter

Unrelated Pre-amble:

Before I jump back into this, I know there may be some queries as to where I’ve been since March. Well, amongst other things, I went to New York, New York. There I experienced some fantastic things that I would really love to share at some point, but at the moment there’s a bit of an issue that I can’t really discuss. However, inspired by the lovely folks I met at BookCon while I was in NY, I’ve decided to get back to some good old fashioned reviews, starting with a book of murder, madness and FBI bureaucracy.

Mindhunter: The Actual Review

Until recently, I was always the first to put my hand up when someone asked the question, “Who here hates non-fiction?” It was a genre I avoided like the plague, unless I was specifically reading it for research purposes. However, that all changed when I encountered Mindhunter, the memoir of John Douglas (written with the aid of Mark Olshaker).

Somewhere in the middle of my masters, I became a little bit obsessed with true crime. As a kid, I’d watched all the Channel 5 crime dramas (CSI, NCIS, The Mentalist etc.), but somehow interest in the “real thing” passed me by until the ripe old age of twenty-six. It started the way it does for most twenty-somethings; I got into podcasts, namely My Favorite Murder and Drunk Women Solving Crime. After that, I watched a few documentaries, fell down some Wikipedia holes and eventually found the Netflix dramatic adaptation of Mindhunter. By that point, I knew all the murderers characterised in the series, and it was amazing (and chilling) to see their true stories brought to life.

However, I quickly became aware that the series was leaning heavily of the “dramatic” side of dramatic adaptation. I wanted to know more about the actual team who coined and developed the term, “serial killer”. Thus, Mindhunter the autobiography found its way into my lap on Christmas morning 2018.

Firstly, I should state, this is not a book for the squeamish, the faint of heart, or those who don’t want to relive traumatic events. Douglas is brutally real in his accounts of the crimes he worked during his active career. The criminals he encountered, interviewed and got to know have committed some of the most heinous acts known to man, with a list that includes Ted Bundy and Ed Kemper. If you have a problem with details of assault and crime scenes, this book is not for you.

Personally, however, this book appealed to me on two levels. Most obviously, the interest in true crime and the development of profiling (stated above). Not only does Douglas detail his teams research process, but he also discusses how this work aided law enforcement to connect crimes where there was little physical evidence. He takes you through the history of profiling, from talking to the very first criminals about why they behave the way they do, to agents being allowed to give profiles as evidence in court.

The second level of appeal for me was that there is something deeply soothing about reading Douglas’s account of his career. As a twenty-something (leaning toward thirty), I’ve yet to fully figure out what my life is going to look like in ten, or even five years’ time. I want to write, I love to edit other people’s work, but there’s still a big wall of unknown up ahead.

Mindhunter tells how Douglas himself was a bit of a renegade, who settled down after being drafted and eventually stumbled into a position at the FBI. His story reminded me that life takes us to many places we never expected to be, and that a career can still be fulfilling, even when it’s not what we dreamt of as a kid.

Should you read this book?

If you’re a true crime obsessive, then Mindhunter is an absolute must.

If you’re into crime drama, I’d also recommend giving this book a try.

If you’re a twenty-something feeling like a little fish in an enormous ocean of options (and you have a sturdy stomach)? Give it a go! Even if it’s just for the first few chapters.


5/5 would murder again.


Happy reading,


Writeryjig Clubamabob: On Turning Two


Writeryjig Clubamabob: On Turning Two

On Thursday, the Writeryjig Clubamabob hit the grand old age of two. The other members and I celebrated in our usual fashion, by singing Happy Birthday to the group and eating many delicious home-baked treats.

Today, I was going to share the recipe for the chocolate orange cake I made as our second birthday cake. However, while most people who ate it said it was orangey enough, my mum and I could barely taste any orange at all. Thus, I intend on fiddling around with the recipe a little bit more, so I can provide suggestions on how to increase the flavour depending on how orangey you want it. I already have an order to remake it for a b’day in May, so I better start researching 😉

Instead of the recipe, I thought I’d take a moment to highlight the accomplishments of Clubamabob’s members this year. It’s been a marathon, with graduations and weddings, job changes and house moves, but somehow we’ve kept going and kept motivated. We’ve all achieved a great deal writing wise and I couldn’t miss the opportunity to celebrate that!

  • Despite the chaos of being a full time teacher, Meg’s managed to maintain steady progress on her novel. We are all very much resigned to the fact that her story will not be a fluffy gay romance, but we’re quietly thinking up fanfic ideas on the side for when her book eventually finds its way to shops (while very much enjoying all the feels she gives us, of course).
  • Not only has Jo continued to work on the same project for two years now, she has also introduced a looming, shadowy villain that I’m still puzzling over. On top of that, she had a short published in Lucent Dreaming Issue 2, which you can find an extract of here. I’m not proud. You’re proud. Shut up.
  • Having solidified her novel opening, Rachel moved on to giving us plot, drama, romance and hilarious euphemisms for genitalia that we’d never heard of before! We’ve loved reading her work every time, often leaving her feedback until last to lift up intense evenings.
  • Ian quietly tinkers in the background, continuing to lay down wondrous characterisation. He probably also wins best landscaper, with all his pretty, pretty scenery. There’s never a dull moment in his fantasy world, and I think we’re all on the edge of our seats, wondering what Ian is going to call a climax.
  • After a number of openings to various gruesome tales, James has achieved plot, characters and human interaction! We’re all very proud of him for biting the bullet and moving forward. James has a real way of giving things a macabre tinge, even when they’re relatively mundane – like a snapshot of a group meeting through a vicarage window. But still. GIVE US MURDER.
  • Tori continues to grammar us all hard, while submitting stuff month after month that we all enjoy and have little to critique. We live in constant fear that she’s about to kill someone off, or maim someone, or something , which I think is a fair comment on how attached to her characters we’ve become. Hell, she’s just intro’ed a dude and I’m already scared for his beautiful beardy face.
  • Finally, me. What have I achieved? Well, besides continuing to cause arguments at every turn, and sort mostly finishing a novella…I’ve, uh, I’ve officially been part of a group/community type thing for two years – the longest I have ever participated in an organised social activity. I’m hella proud of this little family we’ve built, quirks and all.

If at this point you’re thinking, “Emma, your group sounds great! How do I get me one of those?” I came up with some tips last year that you might find helpful. You can find them here.

As a writer, having a writing group is something I cannot recommend more and not just for the sake of improving your work. Writing is a lonely business. Ninety percent of your time is spent sat at your desk, by yourself, typing away (or being manically pestered by a cat…Kit’s literally in my face right now). Having a few hours a month to chat about your work with like-minded humans is priceless. It’s certainly worth the two hour drive up the M5 to Birmingham 😉