Free Books

Four of my publications are currently available for FREE download from Amazon worldwide. The offer runs for three days through 17th, 18th and 19th June 2020.

Please check them out and if you do read – a review is always hugely appreciated, especially by Indie writers like myself, Andrew Taylor and G G Flavell.

Lost Shadows: A collection…

My first mini collection has been published and is now live. Paperback and eBook available worldwide.

Link below.

New Order Disorder

Stuck in the mud; the heart is a-thud.

Another dud.

The tightening throat; tangled in knots.

Edit, revise, delete, repeat.

Sticking in loops; nauseating mud soup.

Shattered mind in broken tongue; where had it all begun?

Shards slashing on the way down.

Dead letters nestling in; stinging nettles grow within.

Type again, reply, no don’t…

Wait, that’s wrong!

Too much? Too little? Too dam late!

Let it go…

Letters in the grave; need to be ‘brave.’

Stick a label on it; Depression

Change the address.

Oodles of mess; time eclipsed by so much ‘missed.’

Misrepresented, mistimed, misdiagnosis, misunderstood, missed.

Return to sender 30 years later…

Wrong label, here’s a new one; ASD

New order from the so-called Disorder.

(C) Natasha Sinclair, all rights reserved.

Out of Colour

She was so incredibly vibrant, effervescent even. Life cascaded over her and she soaked it up; osmosis from grey to all illuminating colour.

They couldn’t know of the tortured girl hiding behind long straggly hair in the corner depths of her soul. Trying not to breathe, holding her head still between her hands and knees; frightened little anchoress within.

She painted the outside with hypnotic kaleidoscopic colour. Energy was electrifying and luminescent. Rich from living, a friend to everyone, my love.

After the years of youth though; too much mayhem and noise, too much of that painted face. Too many troubles to keep buried behind a smile, she ran all out of colour.

I see her try sometimes. Try to paint it on. Her skin only soaks it into the dead grey; cracking, peeling, painful and raw. Hermit grey, only shade in the shadows.

There’s barely any precious life left.

(C) Natasha Sinclair, All rights reserved