Tanya Doolin
Bio
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Stories (42/0)
The Watcher in the Garden.
It happened again last night - the recurring nightmare that never fails to haunt me. I was floating, like a ghost, watching my younger self having a picnic under the old apple tree in our backyard garden. Miniature me looked so carefree, not knowing the terrors that lurked in the future.
By Tanya Doolinabout a month ago in Horror
Dino Superbowl
In a time beyond the reach of man,A dinosaur led the clan,Not just one with a scaly crown,But a hero in a football town. With legs so strong and a heart so bold,He stormed the field in jerseys gold.The crowd went wild with every score,As he charged ahead, they cheered for more.
By Tanya Doolinabout a month ago in Poets
Gloucestershire: History Meets Adventure
Gloucester - A City Steeped in History International Museum Day is coming up on May 18th, and there's no better place to celebrate than in the amazing county of Gloucestershire. This area has a rich history and stunning views of green natural landscapes.
By Tanya Doolin2 months ago in Wander
Cold Beer and Hot Politics. Chapter 8.
John was startled awake before dawn by the jangling bedside telephone. Blearily lifting the receiver, he encountered only the cackling voice of his downstairs neighbour, Madame Scheherazade. Between gasping laughs she demanded, "Have you seen today's Mirror, John dearie?" Before he could respond, she rang off, leaving him puzzled by her sudden interest in tabloid sensationalism.
By Tanya Doolin3 months ago in Chapters
Cold Beer and Hot Politics. Chapter 7.
As London's sullen skies unleashed spring's first rain, so too descended resignation upon John's sagging shoulders. His solitary crusade to resurrect radical dissent had stalled, impotent pamphlets reduced to street litter rather than kindling for revolution. No swelling crowds issued outraged choruses for economic justice or political accountability. Anaesthetised by distractions and indulgences, the proletariat slumbered on, impervious to John's strident wake-up calls.
By Tanya Doolin4 months ago in Chapters
Cold Beer and Hot Politics. Chapter 6.
The weeks following John's passionate speech at Speaker's Corner crept by in agonising inertia. No righteous comrades emerged to join his crusade, no groundswell of dissent stirred even a tremor of outrage. His provocations were met largely by public apathy or dismissal, save the occasional phone call from an old university friend expressing concern over John's tilt at windmills.
By Tanya Doolin5 months ago in Chapters
The Silver Serpent Society. Chapter Three.
I slam my fist on the briefing room table, rattling the stale coffee cups and pastry crumbs littering its surface. This ragged bunch of misfits in rumpled dress blues is my so-called task force - assembled to share intel and finally solve the Nyx Vesperra case that has cast its dark shadow over my career for almost two decades.
By Tanya Doolin5 months ago in Chapters
The Silver Serpent Society. Chapter Two.
The overpowering stench hits as I slip under the police tape and step into the squalid flat.Blood and gore splattered on peeling floral wallpaper like a Pollack painting. In the narrow kitchen the victim lays splayed unnaturally across cheap linoleum, arms and legs twisted in ways that turn my stomach. Sergeant Callahan stands grim-faced, filling me in on details while uniforms mill about uselessly.
By Tanya Doolin6 months ago in Chapters
The Silver Serpent Society. Chapter One.
The stench hits my nose as I enter the crime scene. Some idiot had left the door open and the July heat had been working on the swollen corpse sprawled across the laminate flooring for days by the looks of it. The rigor mortis had locked the stiff in a pose like he was trying to fend off the devil himself. Uniform cops stand around useless as can be, slack-jawed while CSI techs wander around listlessly in the oppressive heat.
By Tanya Doolin6 months ago in Chapters
