Lotus Blood: Lotus Blood, #1

By Dean Norton

Nam wants her Mum back. Simple. Okay, so her Mum’s dead, which is a problem, but Nam died as well when the earthquake and tsunami smashed their hotel in Thailand. 

Nam didn’t just see her Mum after they died; they fought together in the Bardo, the place every soul goes before moving onto their next life. Together they’d driven back the spirits of evil sent to ensnare them by the Mara, the Buddhist Devil, who also just happens to be Nam’s ancient Ancestor.

Her Mum makes a pact with the devil, enslaving herself to him, but keeping Nam safe and spinning back into her life in tsunami smashed Thailand.

Along with the attractive and mysterious Simon, she has to find a path back to the Bardo and battle illusions and demons to rescue her Mum from the Devil’s clutches.

If she fails, she not only loses her Mother, but her own soul as the devil's plaything for all eternity.

Lotus Blood  is a paranormal romance/fantasy adventure of 92,000 words/approximately 365 pages and is Book 1 in the Lotus Series.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dean Norton
• Release date: Aug 16, 2015
• ISBN: 9781516390564

Book preview

Chapter Two

I picked myself up, forgetting I was only wearing flip flops and kicked a stone after the disappearing pick-up.

Ow, ow, crap! 

I hopped around pinging the elastic band on my wrist very hard.

"Ping, sting, breathe. Ping, sting and breathe." That’s what the lady in the blue knitted dress with the huge hair-do had told me, after the time I’d smashed a boy’s head through a plaster board wall.

Ping, sting, and breath, Nam. It’s much better than losing control.

A cloud of screeching birds flew over, heading for the hills and away from the sea.

Bob whined and looked up at me.

She’ll be back, Bob, she will.

Why do I feel I’ve just lost everything?

Even my smart-arse inner bitch had nothing to say. The cloud cleared the sun and the heat settled on my head like a stone. More birds flew over.

Bob stood panting at me.

Okay, boy. Let’s go and get cool.

We wandered back into the building site that was pretending to be a hotel. The drills were silent, the blue shirts on a break, drinking water and eating something out of plastic bags.

Morning, Nam, a voice boomed from behind me.

Hi, Dad.

My giant father stood there beaming, bright and happy as ever, a hard hat stuck on his huge bald head. Even he’d got a blue shirt on today.

A picture jumped into my head; Dad shouting, Phone the plumber, quick! as he fought to hold back the water shooting out of the pipe he’d drilled into. He was a walking DIY disaster, and now he had a whole army of workmen to help him cock it up. 

Feel that earthquake? he asked. 

Sure, Dad, I replied, cowering in a minute patch of shade. Dad, my air con’s still broken ...

But he’d turned away, jabbering away in Thai to the Blue Shirts, fluent from being married to Mum for twenty years.

I stamped down the half-finished reception area, pinging my elastic band, breathing deeply and glaring at every Blue Shirt.

Don’t talk to me, just don’t.

Reception was wide and open, the air thick with dust. A layer had settled on the black wood of Mum’s giant grand piano, ready and waiting for her to play for everyone at the opening party.

Hotel Piano! That is so not right.

I hated this lump of wood and ivory. I’d been such a disappointment to Mum, sitting there hour after hour, struggling to pick out Chopsticks, never Chopin. And, now it had followed me half way round the world.

I traced a sad face in the dust and turned away.

Junior was stood with a pretty Thai girl, our friend Ploy, under the huge gnarled tree between the bungalows and the Ugly Block, next to the pathetic excuse for a swimming pool. There was even a ridiculous plastic water slide in the shape of a fairy tale cottage. I could just picture hordes of spoilt brats sliding down it, screaming their heads off.

Bob stood stiff-legged, sniffing the air as more birds flew over.

It’s okay, Bob, I told him and scratched his back.

The shade under the tree looked good, even with my brother arsing around under it. Ploy stood posing for him to take her photo with his new smart-phone.  Our birthday presents had been identical. Only difference was, his hadn’t been smashed into a wall.

Ploy looked up and smiled, placed her hands together, like she was praying. Sawat dee ka, Nam.

Yeah hi, morning, Ploy, I replied and waved my hand lamely.

No, sis, not ‘Hi.’ You say ‘Sawatdee ka!’ And wai. Junior put his hands together and bowed his head.

Whatever, bro.

Ploy was burning some sticks, sweet incense smoke curling up. Junior picked at a wicker basket of fruit full of pineapples, bananas and something spiky and pink.

Sis? He passed me a banana. It was small and plump, a perfect yellow. I hated it when they went brown and mushy.

Thanks. I pulled back the waxy skins and bit into the soft white fruit. Tender and ...

Sweet? Junior said and grinned at me.

Yeah, Junior, sweet.

I reached for another.

Did you find Mum?

Yes.

And?

I peeled another banana.

And what, bro?

And, did you kiss and make up? You two really went at it last night.

Yeah well, she’s changed.

You mean she doesn’t give you everything you want anymore?

I mean she only cares about this crappy hotel now.

Ploy held out a silver tray to me.

Offerings for a lucky day, Nam.

She waved her hand over a yellow and white flower garland, along with an open Fanta bottle, a banana and some kind of green leaf with rice on it.

I really, really don’t get this place.

Why? I asked.

This is a sacred Bodhi Tree, Junior said and pointed at the orange and white ribbons tied around the root-twisted trunk.

Yes, Ploy said in her light sing-song voice. Buddha himself attained enlightenment, under a Bodhi tree.

This one? I asked and reached for another banana, desperately trying to sound interested.

No, not here.

Ploy, tell Nam what you told me, urged Junior but Ploy smiled uncertainly. About the spirits, it was cool.

Oh, okay. Well, Thai people, we believe some trees contain the spirits of dead people. We come and make offerings to appease the spirits, and keep away the bad luck.

Spirits ... like ghosts? I asked.

No, no, not the same as ghosts, she shifted her shoulders, warily. No, ghosts are ... all around.

Seriously?

I am trying not to be rude, really trying.

Yes, but spirits live in some trees.

I stared up at the huge Bodhi towering over us. Long fingers of roots trailed down to the ground and I could easily believe this held many spirits, ghosts, whatever. The brown monster freaked me out.

Interesting, huh? Junior prodded me.

Sure.

And now, I will make offerings at the spirit house for the hotel. Make some good luck for the opening, said Ploy and smiled at Junior, then she headed for the miniature white and gold house stuck on a pole by bungalow number one, the nearest one to the sea.

Junior watched her walk away, her steps small and graceful in her long blue skirt.

How’s boyfriend Lek this morning? Junior asked and pointed his phone at me. I threw my towel over my head. 

You sod! I grunted from under my towel.

You know he’s got a thing for you.

Yeah, right. I don’t understand a word he says.

Well, try learning some Thai.

Why? I told you, I’m not staying.  I threw my towel at him to stop any more camera moments.  

Whoa, got to get this, Junior shouted and jumped up, waving his phone at a group of three elderly monks shuffling barefoot down the beach road, their saffron orange robes bright in the morning air.

I stood and watched as Junior leaped over a stack of sun beds and headed for the monks. As he moved away, the noise level around me fell, like a volume switch being turned down; the drills stopped shrieking, the hammering paused and silence settled like a blanket.

Bob had been lying down, panting away in the heat, enjoying the shade of the giant tree, but now he jumped up, his eyes fixed on a spot behind me.

Bob, you okay? What is it?

He put his head down and growled; the hackles all down his back raised straight up. As I turned, coming round far too slowly, high hissing slid out of the air above me. For a second, I thought the tree was moving, the branches writhing around, but then I saw the hooded head.

"Crap!’ I shouted and backed away from the giant snake sliding around the lower branches of the tree. Bob threw himself forward, scrabbling on his hind legs up the gnarled trunk, snapping and snarling. The wide, hooded head rose up and I caught the flicker of a tongue, then my foot caught on a stone and I fell on my arse for the second time that morning. The air rippled, like a wave had passed through and the snake melted away into the knotted wood of the tree. In its place a dark shape flowed over the bark, like a deep shadow, twisting and uncoiling as colours shifted and came together into a wrinkled bald head shape.

What the hell is that?

Bob backed away from the tree, still growling as the half-seen shapes sharpened and focused into a small figure in black robes, floating cross-legged against the gnarled tree trunk.

I couldn’t breathe. I opened my mouth to scream, but barely a whimper came out. Please...

It was only a very small sound but the wrinkled head came up. The eyes opened and looked straight into mine, bright green eyes, wide, getting wider, pulling me in. The air was suddenly thick with the stink of oranges, rotten sour oranges. I gagged as bile poured into my mouth then the lips moved, twisting into a knife-edge smile and I finally screamed, really screamed. The smiling figure blinked once and disappeared, leaving me staring at the ancient tree with its orange and white ribbons. I stopped screaming and stood there gasping for breath, as Bob cautiously sniffed the base of the trunk.

What the hell was that, Bob? I stammered out and he looked round at me.

Hammering started up again and drilling split the air. I looked round at the Blue Shirts working on the nearest bungalow, only yards away from me. They were intent on their work and not paying me any attention. I stared down at my shaking hands.

Did I really just scream my head off?

Bob stood there, panting at me, his eyes wide and his tail down.

You did see something, didn’t you? I asked my dog then shook my head, trying to clear the image of that smile. I stared hard at the tree, but it was just a tree with no snake and no hideous smiling head.

The heat’s really getting to you this morning, isn’t it? gloated my inner bitch.

Laughter tinkled across the morning air, pulling me back to some kind of reality, the images sliding away.

Ploy and Junior stood chatting to the monks, their heads close as she translated for him. He took after Dad in size and easy outlook, always smiling, never down. We were twins in name only. And, he never let me forget he was five minutes older.

Me, I was a complete mixture – Thai looks from Mum, mixed with Dad’s wide British face. I was neither one thing nor the other. And, all the hours spent pounding up and down swimming pools meant I was too broad across the shoulders to ever be petite.

Bob had given up sniffing the trunk and lay down in the shade of the Bodhi tree, wagging his tail at me.

Both mongrels, hey Bob?

He wagged his tail harder, panting away then a shout came from behind me. A load of Blue Shirts ran past shouting and pointing.

Great that’ll get my air con fixed.

Sis! shouted Junior waving at me.

I’m not going anywhere, I shouted back.

It’s the sea, you stupid cow. Come on! 

People poured down the beach road, calling to each other.

Lek sprinted past waving at the beach.

Everyone was now running around on the sand. I pulled the towel over my head and headed for Junior, who was stood with Ploy on a rock I’d never noticed before.

Okay ... so? I asked him.

The sea, you dozy cow.

The tide’s out, Junior. It happens every day.

The red, white and blue squid fishing boats were keeled over on bare sand.

Where’s all the water?

What’s happening, Ploy? I asked.

She shook her head and smiled uncertainly. We were stood in barely ankle deep puddles.

Junior?

I don’t know, sis. It’s ... look!

He pointed to a white speedboat, leaned right over, stuck in the sand, the hull gleaming in the sun.

Ploy? Does this happen often? I asked.

She shook her head, her long black hair flowing. No, never.

The sun disappeared behind a cloud.

Come on, Junior’s voice was high, excited, let’s go out to the boats.

Ploy put her hand up to her forehead and said so quietly Junior didn’t hear, Maybe.

Junior was gone and I followed. It was hard work as my feet sank into the wet sand. Ploy hitched up her skirt as we splashed through puddles of foamy water, then Junior stopped and scrabbled in the sand.

Look at this! he shouted, struggling to hold onto something long and dark. He dropped it and went down on hands and knees trying to pick it up again. Look what I caught! It’s still alive, and slimy!

He held a wriggling fish over his head, two handed, like a trophy, fighting to hold onto it. 

Ploy let her skirt droop onto the wet sand.

Then there were shouts of, Pla, pla! Fish fish!

Lek ran past waving two huge fish. He tripped and they flew away from him. He sat on the sand, feet out, laughing. More people were coming now, carrying buckets and bowls, even glasses.

Junior had dropped the fish again. He jumped around feet planted wide, trying to get a grip on it.

Stop it! Junior, just stop, I shouted, but he kept laughing as the fish tried to wriggle away. I grabbed his shoulder.

What? he panted, his hands covered in slime. Like my fish, sis?

Put it down, Junior! I screamed at him.

He almost trod on the fish and sat down hard on the soggy sand. He looked up at me, stunned. I grabbed at the fish and it slithered away.

That’s my fish, Nam.

It’s not your fish, it’s still alive. It needs help.

Why do you always go too far? 

Ploy, help me, I pleaded, but she was stood staring out at the speedboat.

Ploy, please.

I managed to get the slimy fish in my hands but it was hardly moving.  I half pushed, half threw it towards a rock pool. It landed in a puddle and wriggled half-heartedly. I got my hands under the sand around the fish and heaved. It flew forward and landed on the edge of the pool and lay there. I rolled it in and it struggled away, flapping slowly.

Chapter Three

I collapsed on the sand, facing the hotel. The Bodhi tree glared back, malevolent and no doubt full of spirits. Lines of dark shadows drifted along the beach, turning the sand and puddles a muddy grey.

Then everything was going in slow motion, all the people on the beach a long way away; all the noise muffled. A single high note on Mum’s piano cut through the air. One sharp note, then another, somebody was hitting the keys hard.

Mum? That didn’t sound like her.

Bob stood stiff legged, head and tail up, staring out to sea. He growled and bared his teeth towards the nearest squid boat, the hair on his back sticking straight up.

Bob, Bobberty, it’s ok.

I snapped my fingers at him. He turned to me, his eyes wide, panting then put his head back and howled. I’ve heard dogs howl a few times, but this was high and horrible.  The skin on the back of my neck twitched and my chest did that tight thing again.

Junior stared at Bob. What’s up with Bob the Dog?

Something’s spooked him.

Thais believe dogs howl when they see a ghost, said Junior. Don’t they, Ploy?

But she was pointing up the beach at a pack of dogs. They huddled together, staring out towards where the sea should have been.

What is it, Ploy? Junior asked.

I don’t know.

In perfect unison, all the dogs stuck their noses up to the sky, howled once then broke away and ran flat out into the hotel and away from the beach. Bob stood next to me, his hackles raised.

Good boy! I patted his head.

Maybe they saw one of the ghosts, Ploy, said Junior.

The cloud shifted, the sun beat down again and the beach sparkled.  The drying sand was covered in shells; blues and whites, heart shaped ridges and long spirals.

Mum will love these. A peace offering.

I scooped a handful, letting the sand trickle though my fingers. A flash of red glinted in the rock pool and I squelched over to take a look. The pool was slimy, but there was no seaweed.  I put my hand out towards the red and white ridged clam shell and the clear water started vibrating, ripples bouncing on the surface. 

What the hell is going on this morning?

Junior, look!

He was stood head down at another pool.

Just another earthquake, sis.

The palm trees started thrashing around and that same sick feeling moved up through my legs.

Well I want it to stop. I feel funny, I said.

You are funny, replied Junior, but he was distracted, uncertain.

The Blue Shirts out by the furthest squid boats shouted, pointing at the stranded speedboat. I squelched over to Junior, still clutching my shells.

What’s going on, bro?

He shaded his eyes.

Dunno, sis. Wait there ... and there.

Way out on the horizon, the sky and sea blurred together in a haze of white and the blur was moving. Bubbling, white flecks appeared, disappeared, wavered, then flowed and settled into a line. The ripples in the rock pools were now lines and ridges marching towards the palm trees.

Junior? my voice came out high and squeaky.

Ploy had both hands up to her head, gazing towards the foaming line. All the Blue Shirts and people from the beach-houses left the fish and stood shielding their eyes against the sun. A low rumble grew, like a train right down the end of a tunnel, coming closer, coming fast.

It’s the sea, came Junior’s voice so loud in the still air. It’s coming back in. Ploy, you okay?

She shook her head and pointed at the speedboat bouncing up and down.  White foam boiled around the white hull then it shot straight up, bow pointing at the sky, and crashed down, spray flying.

Ploy waved urgently to Junior. We should go now. Now!

What’s happening, Ploy? shouted Junior.

Now, Junior, now! she shouted, turned away, and not bothering to lift her skirt, began jogging up the beach.

Wow! Look at that!Junior pointed at the furthest squid fishing boats thrashing around, fighting against their anchors.

Junior, move it! I shouted and pulled at his shoulder. He made a face but started walking backwards, so he could still see what was going on. The soaking, ankle-deep sand sucked at every step.

Quick sand must feel like this.

Junior shouted again and I half turned, feet stuck where they were in the deep wet sand.  A fishing boat was upside down and the white mass was breaking, boiling spray flying everywhere.

Then everyone was running and screaming.

Junior was beside me now. Run, sis!

I’m trying.

Wow, It’s coming back fast. We’re gonna get wet.

There was a scream behind us and I fell forward. Junior grabbed my arm and pulled me up.

Get to the hotel and watch it from there! he yelled.

Junior was just ahead as we dragged up the last stretch of beach, the sand drier and easier now, then there was the line of trees and the road.

A Blue Shirt running flat out crashed into me. He shouted something but his voice was drowned by a crashing roar and the beach turned white, water and boats flying. Junior grabbed my arm and dragged me across the road, the tarmac hard under my bare feet.

The tree! Junior shouted over the roar from the beach. Dad was up on the Ugly Block, waving frantically.

Run, sis!

I am!

Junior reached the tree first. I tripped over a root and crashed into him.

Come on, jump! Junior threw himself straight up, caught a branch, held on and hauled himself upwards.  I took a step back, ran at the gnarled wood, threw myself at it and dropped flat on my back. Junior was half way up, one arm wrapped round a thick branch.

Sis! He held out his hand. Come on, you stupid cow!

I rolled over and gathered myself for one more go at the tree.

Give me your hand, now! Junior shouted at me.

A flash of dirty orange lumbered across the car park and wheezed to a halt.

Mum, no, go away!

Jump, Nam!

But Mum!

Now!

I ran forward and threw myself up. Junior’s huge fingers closed around my upper arm, slipped then held on at the elbow. I got one arm over a branch and held on.

I was half turned towards the beach. A high roar split the air; everything went white and the sea reared straight up into a solid wall.

Junior pulled hard and my chest was up to his branch then the wall of water smashed into me, flattening me against the wood. I screamed and water poured into my mouth and down my throat. My arm was coming off but Junior kept pulling and the water was pushing me up. I scrabbled with my knees against the trunk, ripping my skin away.

I threw my head back and managed to grab a breath, stopped fighting and allowed my legs to swing upwards with the force of the water. My head came out again and Junior’s face was a mask of agony, one arm wrapped around his branch, the other clamped on my arm.

The roar of the water dropped away, as the level surged around me. My legs were being pushed around the bowl of the tree, into the branches. I wrapped my legs round a big branch and squeezed them together hard.

Junior’s fingers slipped, my arm came free and I tumbled and crashed across the wood, the force of the torrent spinning me around. I grabbed another branch, hung on and pulled myself up against it.  I was facing back to the Ugly Block and Junior, no more than ten feet away, hung there squeezing his hand. I clung onto my thin branch gasping for breath.

The water was almost up to me and I pulled my legs up, away from the swirling torrent. Pieces of tree, sun beds and a bicycle careered past.

The sea was a mass of heaving dark water, stretching straight from the horizon all the way into our hotel and out through it.

Sorry, sis, sorry. Just couldn’t hold you.

I shook my head, still struggling to breathe.

Doesn’t... matter. Saw... Mum in the pick up.

Junior went very still.

You sure, sis?

I saw her. I did.

She’ll be fine.

You know she can’t swim.

I told you she’ll be fine! Junior shouted.

I know she will, I started to say and stopped. Junior wasn’t listening. He was looking past me and had gone very still, the way he does when he doesn’t like something.

What, bro?

Sis, you need to go higher.

I can’t.

There’s a snake swimming around under you.  A cobra, I think.

That moved me, drowning was one thing, snakes something else altogether.

I pulled myself up against the trunk and my branch made small cracking sounds. There was another branch over my head, thinner but way out of the water. I reached up and grabbed at it. It felt firm enough, bendy but firm. I looked over at Junior.

You’ll be okay, sis. Just go slow, okay?

Where’s that snake?

Can’t see it. No there it is. Come on, move your arse, now!

I pulled my right foot up against the gnarled trunk and pushed. The branch bent down towards me. I scrabbled my other arm up and across, till I was half lying over it.

You’re nearly there, come on!

Shut it, Junior!

I grabbed at another branch to give me strength and width, managed to get one leg over and heaved the rest of me up. I lay there, arms and legs hanging down. The branch bent under me and the wood creaked. I stopped breathing, lay still and looked down into the eyes of a huge black snake.  If it wasn’t a cobra, it sure looked like one.

It swam in small circles, red hood back, flicking its tongue, cold green eyes locked on mine.

How come it’s not swept away?

I see the snake, I said.

Evil looking bastard.

Hell of a good swimmer though.

Junior opened his mouth to say something then he went all still again.

Oh crap.

I snapped my head away from the snake. The speed boat that had been anchored way off the beach, now twisted and spun in the torrent, heading straight for our tree. It cleared the beach, picking up speed, snapped round and rolled towards us.

Junior?

Sis, get ready to jump.

But the snake!

Never mind the snake.

The boat was being pushed sideways by the pounding black water, the red numbers 318 harsh against the white hull.

I’m going to jump on it!

Don’t be stupid, Nam!

Better than being squashed flat.

My branch creaked and groaned under me. I tried not to move as the speed boat bow swung around, sun-beds and bits of bungalow battering it. The sharp bow aimed straight at me, only feet away. I flattened myself back, making myself small.  The bow twitched and slowly, reluctantly, swung away towards the car park.

Woah! said Junior. Close.

The water was still coming up.  The first branch I’d clung onto was already submerged.

Where’s that snake, bro?

There.

Junior pointed behind me.

It was still swimming impossibly, away near the bungalows. It flicked its tongue, eyes still fixed on me, only now it seemed to be floating above the water, blending with the air.

I shook my head and looked again. Faint shades hung in the air like a half glimpsed rainbow. And, out of the colour-wash came a shape, wrinkled brown skin and black beneath. I rubbed my eyes but it was still there, hanging above the water. A jagged piece of wood barrelled through it and the form shattered then came back together.

Junior?

Huh?

What the hell is that?

We were now staring at the image that had floated over me at the Bodhi tree, minutes before.  The same bald figure, crouched down, cross-legged, dark robes and a red sash, hovered above the swirling waters. Green snake eyes bored into me. Then, it smiled and I stopped breathing.

Must be a reflection or something. Junior wasn’t scared, just curious.  I was out and out crapping myself.

I cowered back against the trunk, pushing myself into the gnarled wood. I wanted to close my eyes and make it all go away, but those eyes held me.

A hand came up, palm out as if in greeting. The stench of oranges, rotten stinking oranges, hit my stomach. I gagged on the stink. My mouth filled and I puked into the water raging beneath me.

Sis ... Nam?

Shoulders heaving, I managed to stop, but the figure was still there and still smiling that terrible smile. The hand moved down and out, an offering to me. The air rippled and a vicious hiss erupted by my right ear. I shrieked. The snake was there right above me on the tree, red hood back poised to strike. I threw myself forward.

Nam, don’t!

My branch bent and I slipped over, hanging under it. For one long second I stared straight up into those cold, green slit eyes then my branch splintered and I went down head first.  I had time for one breath as I hit the water and went under and down into blackness.

It was so still, no more crashing and raging. I just kept going down, spinning slowly, easily. I opened my eyes and there was a faint glow above me, a long way away. 

Peaceful and so deep. Drowning.

Something spiky, like long fingers, scraped down my leg, caught on my foot, slipped away then closed around my ankle. And, then I didn’t want to die stuck in black, stinking water a long way from home.

Kick at it. Kick it hard! screamed my bitch.

I thrashed with my