About the Book:
Meet Eric. He is a seventeen-year-old loner who finds joy in the colour black.
In Eric’s life, bullying and suicidal thoughts are washed down with a daily dose of over the counter medication. He doesn’t want to die, but can’t stand life at home with his overweight, abusive mother, and drunk and disorderly stepfather – who has a passion for applying bruises – for a moment longer. Thankfully his brother, Ethel, will be home in 16 days to rescue him from Grey Hills – the town with a population of around a thousand. He can’t wait toeat popcorn and view the car accident footage the two of them recorded to watch on replay each Friday night.
Eric notices the unusual things in life; metal rods that help shape an umbrella, and a small stain on the bedroom carpet fibres just to name a couple. He doesn’t like folding washing but does enjoy the random gold coin that appears mysteriously each morning. Eric knows his individualism doesn’t exactly make him popular among the town’s people, but has never really understood their hatred towards him. That is until he is introduced to a unique character that may understand his unfortunate existence more than he does.
A Beautiful Black is a dark, poetic, misunderstood story that will leave your heart fluttering and cheeks blushing into the early hours of the morning. A book for the different people in this world. A book for the people who don’t have the luxury of calling someone a friend. A book to change the way you look at the world and the people living in it.
About the Author:
Luke has been writing for as long as he can remember, getting the initial ‘buzz’ when his short story ‘Gus the Bus’ was selected for publication in his primary school newsletter. He finds his characters to be unique with addictive personalities and loves to connect with his readers.
I don’t care anymore. I’m deflated but crying out for someone or something to ignite my smoking wick again. A timely breath of fresh air would be enough to blow my flame back into the contemporary dance I remember. I’m not sure who I can rely on these days, I don’t seem to have anybody’s shoulder to cry on.
The tiny shards of glass penetrating through my bare feet are enough to challenge my angry conscience. Broken beer bottles are something I’m all too familiar with. After all, they are thirteen per cent of the reason I’m heading to the bridge on this cold winter morning.
This time I’m serious though. No more causing unwanted attention. Today my eyelids will greet the stars instead of drooping to the ground; today I will arch my back and sprout my invisible angel wings…
Today I will dive…
Today I will die…
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