Violetta Antcliff

Violetta Antcliff has been a member of the Nottingham Writers’ Club for the best part of Twenty years. She is the winner of numerous short story competitions and was area short listed in Waterstone’s WOW factor story competition. She took first prize in Nottingham short story competition with a story called Irish Mouse Tales and has read her poetry and short stories on local radio.

New Titles by Violetta Antcliff

When Mr. and Mrs. Goldstein find they have an uninvited guest, they don’t know if they should make him welcome or make him leave. Mr. Goldstein is all for telling him to stay, pointing out to his wife that not everybody has a Leprechaun for a houseguest; and Joseph, their unruly eight-year-old son, meets his match when the Leprechaun uses magic to teach him a lesson.

                                                                                                       Excerpt

Word Count: 5078                             Pages to Print: 23
File Format: PDF                               Price: $2.99  

With Father O’Tool breathing down his neck to make an honest woman of the widow Bridget Flynn, Patrick O'Malley had a problem. Could he ask the woman he loved to marry him and  move from her cottage with all its modern conveniences to a farm that had nothing to offer but a tin bath and a peat fire?

                                                                                                       Excerpt

Word Count: 4100                             Pages to Print: 17
File Format: PDF                               Price: $2.99   

The fact Wisteria Cottage is supposed to be haunted doesn’t deter Zoe from buying it; she doesn’t believe in ghosts. However, when she starts to experience ghostly kisses, it doesn’t take her long to change her mind. Coming to terms with the fact her ghost is there to stay, she strikes a bargain with him.

                                                                                                       Excerpt

Word Count: 6200                             Pages to Print: 24
File Format: PDF                               Price: $2.99   

Excerpts:

Leprechaun Magic

    Ruth Goldstein stood arms folded looking out of the window. She was angry, fed up with the constant battles that raged daily between her and her husband over their son. The cross words between them today had come about because she’d giving permission for the boy to see a science fiction film at the local cinema when her husband had said he couldn’t.
    Face dark as thunder, she turned to face the man she’d been married to for over ten years, walked over to where he was sitting and plonked herself down on a chair opposite him.
    “Why are you so against our Joseph going to the pictures? His pals are going, so why can’t he?” she spoke tight lipped.
Samuel Goldstein was an easy-going man, but there were times when he felt he had to put his foot down, like now.
    “Because I told him he couldn’t, that’s why,” he snapped crossly.
    “Well that’s no answer. There must be more to it than that.” Ruth wasn’t going to be put off easily, young Joseph was the love of her life and she would do anything for him. She still felt guilty when she recalled how she’d lied the day his teacher had stopped her in the street and told her that Joseph had said he was not allowed to go outside at playtime as he had a bad chest. She'd known it wasn’t true but had said it was, to keep him out of trouble, had even written a letter to confirm it.
    “If you must know, I told him he couldn’t go when it was school the next day, that’s why. That child of ours is out of control,” Samuel fought to control his anger, “I tell him he can’t do something and he turns straight to you and you say he can. And your mother’s just as bad, I stop his spending money because he back-chatted and what does she do? Gives him twice as much as he should have, that’s what.”
    “Don’t you bring my mother into this,” Ruth jumped up, charged over, and began poking him in the chest with her finger, she was cross−very cross.
     “My mother,” she said between jabs, “would do anything for our boy. Didn’t she buy him a bike when you said he couldn’t have one?”
    My point exactly, thought Samuel, with a sigh of exasperation. He knew he couldn’t win, yet he had no idea how to solve the problem.

Back to Leprechaun Magic

Sneaky Shenanigans

    Patrick O’Malley had come to a decision. Today he would ask the widow Bridget Flynn if she would consider walking out with him. He’d thought long and hard about it, spent sleepless nights tossing and turning, weighing up the pros and cons. Now, right or wrong, his mind was made up.
 
     It was six months since his old Ma had passed away and over two years since Bridget’s man had died. He knew there were bonuses for a man living on his own, smoking a pipe without being told get outside with the evil smelling thing was just one of them. The pleasure of being able to fart when and where he pleased without blaming it on the dog was another. But if the truth was known, he had to admit there were some things a woman could do better than a man. Putting a good supper on the table, darning socks and turning collars on shirts, just to mention a few. He missed his old Ma but it was time he started getting on with his own life, hence his resolve to call on the widow woman and chance his luck.
 
     Wearing his second best working clothes and Sunday cap, the dog at his heel, he strode determinedly towards the widow’s front door, knocked, and waited. He knew she was in, he’d seen the curtains twitch. She’s in no hurry to open the door to me, he thought blowing on his hands, its bloody cold standing out here. “Sit, boy,” he said giving the dog a pat on the head, “Not long now. I can hear her coming, Just you be on your best behavior do you hear me? No jumping up or chasing the cat.”                                       Back to Sneaky Shenanigans

The Haunting of Wisteria Cottage

     When Zoe stepped out of the bath and reached for her terry towel robe, she felt a kiss on the damp nape of her neck, but she didn’t turn round to see who had planted it because she knew no one would be there.
     This wasn’t the first time she’d experienced the sensation of ghostly kisses, but it was the first time her heart hadn’t started pounding and she hadn’t broken out in a cold sweat.
     “I don’t believe in ghosts, I don’t believe in ghosts,” she declared through clenched teeth, and patted herself dry.
     Zoe had only moved into the cottage the week previous and was still in the midst of unpacking. The electrical goods she’d bought via the internet; fridge freezer, washing machine and cooker, still hadn’t arrived. She was beginning to wonder if perhaps she wouldn’t have done better paying that little bit extra and getting them from the co-op, but money being tight every penny needed to be accounted for.
     She was newly single, and the settlement from her divorce had just come through. It hadn’t been as much as she’d hoped for, but it had been sufficient for the down payment on the cottage. She had a reasonably good job, ‘Agony Aunt’ for a well know woman’s magazine, and she wrote a weekly column for a daily paper, so she’d had no trouble getting a mortgage.
     The fact the cottage was supposed to be haunted hadn’t deterred her from going ahead and buying it; she didn’t believe in ghosts.
     The previous owners had put it on the market at a ridiculously low price hoping for a quick sale, but it had stayed on the Estate Agents books for over two years. When she’d put an offer in, it had been accepted without argument.
 
     Zoe towel dried her hair and took stock of herself in the steamy bathroom mirror. She liked what she saw: the new short hairstyle was easier to manage, and the high lights she thought were a definite improvement. She recalled her best friend Emma telling her she looked nowhere near thirty and if she had any sense, she would spend some of the divorce settlement on a new wardrobe, and start looking for a man.
     But Zoe wasn’t ready for another man; she was still smarting from the break up of her marriage to Gregory.
     The warmth in the bathroom was beginning to dissipate, and Zoe made for the bedroom.
     The door creaked when she pushed it open; the room was cold and as yet uncarpeted. She hadn’t got around to hanging curtains at the windows either, but as the cottage overlooked no other buildings they hadn’t been given priority.
     She slipped hastily into panties, bra, jeans and a top before pulling a brush through her hair and making her way downstairs.
     The sitting room was bare, apart from suitcases and luggage containing personal belongings. A cottage suite, coffee table and computer unit had been ordered from Ikea and was due to be delivered later that afternoon. She was aware it would come flat pack but she wasn’t fazed, it wouldn’t be the first time she’d put furniture together without a man’s help.
     Skirting past the cases she made her way to the kitchen to make herself a cup of coffee.
     The kettle whistled plaintively as it boiled, sending a shiver down her spine She rushed to turn it off, spooned coffee into a mug and opened a tetra-pack of milk; it plopped out, thick green and sour. “How the bloody hell did that happen? It’s supposed to be long life!” She cursed out loud to the empty room, annoyed with herself for not checking the date before she’d bought it. But when she checked, she found the milk well within its Sell By date. Another unexplained mystery to add to the ones that had dogged her since moving into the cottage.         Back to The Haunting of Wisteria Cottage