Search This Blog

Friday, March 27, 2015

Finding Katie by Harmony Kent


Harmony Kent’s latest book is here!

Finding Katie


I killed someone, you see. I killed the girl, who used to be me.

I’m Kate … Kate Charlesworth. I’m seventeen, and self-harming. This time I cut too deep, and I’m in hospital. I hadn’t meant for it to be so bad—it just sort of happened. I needed a lot of distraction that day.

You’ve had bad days, right? Days it hurts too much to think. Days you just wanna stay in bed. Days when the world needs to go away for a while. Right?

What do you do when you’ve hit rock bottom? When there’s nowhere left to turn? 

This one little mistake lands me back on a psych unit—the last place I wanna be. Only this time, the nurse I end up with isn’t content to stick on a band-aid and send me home. She wants me to face my demons. But to do that, I’ll have to face who I am … who I used to be … I’ll have to find Katie.

Excerpt from Chapter One:


THERE IS much power in a name. Just the one utterance can resurrect the dead. Would that I had joined those decaying ranks. Death is easy. It’s living that sucks.

-::-

The nurse is asleep in the chair. The monitor emits another brief, quiet beep. A too-warm draft from the open room door breezes over my face. Hospitals are always the same. I want out. It’s not just the temperature, but the smell as well. Can’t they get a nicer cleaning product? Oh, and don’t even get me started on the florescent lights. Even now, in the dead of night, the lights are on in the corridor. Dimmed, … but still. You’d think—being geared up for sick people—they’d make the place a bit comfier.
I shouldn’t even be here. And I definitely don’t need that silly cow in the corner. I’m being ‘specialled’ … LOL. Like, I’ve been on my own all my life and NOW they care? What gives? Stuff it. I don’t care. They’ll just patch me up and ship me home, like usual.
My arm itches. The tight bandages stop me from being able to scratch it. This is maddening. And that bloody beeping is driving me crazy. I have to get out of here. The monster that lives in me gives a growl … low, menacing. My heart speeds up and I break into a sweat.
An IV is plugged into my other arm. I grit my teeth, wince in anticipation, and yank it out. Warm blood pools on my arm and drips on the sheet, along with the cooler fluid leaking out of the tube. It stings a little bit.
There isn’t much bedding for me to throw back, only the now-damp sheet. I swing my legs over the side of the mattress and sit up. The wires attached to the sticky pads on my chest pull tight. I stop moving and hold my breath. As soon as I take the leads off, the machine will alarm. That has to be the last thing I disconnect. 
The nurse shifts position in the recliner, but then she snores … for a minute I thought she’d woken up. The daft cow will get in so much trouble when they find out she was sleeping on the job. Fat Angie, I call her. She hasn’t sat with me before. Melanie told me they had to get someone from the nursing pool to cover tonight. I almost wish I could stick around to see Melanie give it to Angela in the morning.
A laugh bubbles up and I have to stifle it quick. One of the ward nurses walks past, but doesn’t look in. As quietly as I can, I grab my clothes from the bedside locker. It says everything that they’re the same ones I was admitted in. See how much my folks care? They haven’t even bothered to launder my stuff.
Dried blood has left my jeans and zip-front sweater stiff, and they stink of sweat and vomit. But I can’t leg it out of here in this open-backed gown. The wires make it slow going and tricky, but I manage it. I have to leave the t-shirt, ‘cos there’s no way I can get that on without releasing the sensor pads. Still undetected. Okay … here goes. 
Fast as I can, I snatch off the wires and stumble for the door. The alarm rings out as I hit the corridor at a run. The opposite wall looms at me and I rebound off it. I scan around to get my bearings. Shit. The nurse’s station is between the doors and me. I tell you, I was born this lucky.
The hard floor is cold beneath my bare feet. Already, the bitches have stood up. The big black one has her hands on her hips. She means business. Well, I’ve come this far. The little mousey nurse stands to the left and behind the other one. I aim for her.
Squeaks and slaps echo as I lift, drop, lift, and drop my feet. The polished floor keeps sucking at my soles—hence the squeak every time I lift my foot back up.
The wheezing and pounding from behind tell me that Fat Angie has joined in the chase. Oh what good fun at the fair! I giggle as I run. Can’t help it. It’s not nice, though. It doesn’t touch me. As old Shakes said: ‘Mirth cannot move a soul in agony.’ Have I ever been happy? Not sure I know what that is, when you get right down to it. Cold Kate—that’s me.
I barrel into the small nurse. She goes down flat on her back. She makes the biggest slap/squeak of all. I’m home free! My hand is on the door handle when the big black bitch tackles me from behind. Shit.
‘Get off me, you cow!’ My yells, screams, kicks, and head-butts do nothing. She just yanks me off my feet with my arms pinned at my sides. She might look fat, but she’s all muscle—solid. Why’d she have to be on tonight of all nights? Unfair much? Fruitless as it is, I struggle and wriggle all the way back to my room. 


You can PRE-ORDER it HERE!


About the Author:

Harmony Kent is famous for her laughter, and has made quite the name for herself … she’s also, um, a writer … and fairly well known for that too. She lives in rural Cornwall with her ever-present sense of humour and quirky neighbours. She is single and not admitting to her age. 

Here are ten things she thinks you ought to know about her …

1. Born in 2013 (at least the author was …)
2. Really boring
3. Has absolutely no sense of humour 
4. Biographer is a compulsive liar
5. Reads … a lot
6. Writes … even more
7. Completely sane(in)
8. Neighbours are nuts
9. If you’re feeling extra brave she’s around
10. Online …


Connect with Harmony:



Other Books by Harmony Kent:


Fiction:

The Battle for Brisingamen
The Glade
Elemental Earth


Anthologies:

Concordant Vibrancy
Rave Soup for the Writer’s Soul


Non-Fiction:

Polish Your Prose