Ruby Allure's Books

Ruby Allure's Books
Ruby Allure's Books

Saturday, 28 February 2015

An update on an Indie book world

Fifteen years of writing consistently has finally started to pay off. In my previous blog, I talked about the WHY in why people write. There are times when you are writing and writing and nothing is happening. That is just how it is. Then one day it is as if everything starts to come together. It is as if the universe smiles on you and says let's give this person who is not going to give up a bit of a chance.

This only really started in the last two years. I was the proverbial blue bottle that kept flying into the window and banging its head. I would fall onto the proverbial window-sill, lay slightly stunned for a while and then get up and do it again.

During that time I taught creative writing, worked full time as a business analyst, competed at rowing and wrote in between. You might notice I like being busy and managed all that by creating structures that enabled me to be consistent. What makes it easier for me is I like the feeling of progress. Even if I write for ten minutes then I am progressing. The point was - nothing was happening. So one day I had to re-evaluate my WHY. My great dream of international fame, fortune and flying  helicopters probably was not going to manifest in reality. Instead I realised I had been chasing illusions and actually the reason why I wrote was down to the fact I loved writing. I simply loved creating stories and it did not matter whether other people liked them or whether people bought them. Instead it was spending time in creative inner landscapes imagining. As soon as I realised that it was not about how much money I made and whether there was any interest.  I was going to write anyway because it was my passion and my hobby- that is when something shifted. The struggle stopped and I had more energy to write what I wanted, how I wanted. My books went on promotion and the sales started. I know it is sad but when you have twenty downloads in a week you feel as though you have been 'found'. That sense of liberation seemed to send a signal up to the universe and people arrived in my life who desired to make my books into audible books. That is where I am now. I am working with a fantastic producer who is turning Labyrinthine into and audible book. It seems to take it to the next level and I am loving it. After that, who knows, I am completing a couple of film scripts of The Ocean Callings and Labyrinthine because the producer I should have those ready 'just in case'. So let's see what the next step is... All I can say to all you Indie authors is persevere and find ways for you to make things happen. All the while, love what you write and enjoy it. That is the greatest reward you can have - enjoy every moment of your creation. The way I see it is if I can do it then so can other people. I can have a break through then surely sharing it with others will help them to keep going against all the odds. There will always be doubters and people who tell you why you won't succeed. It is your choice to listen to them. My advice is keep going, enjoy what you create and put the work out there because there is more than enough audience for all of us.


Why write a book?

Why write a book?

Do you really want to a write a book? The idea has been buzzing around your head like an aggravating fly. Snatches of scenes keep popping up and your find yourself writing down snippets on random pieces of paper, even loo paper. The characters turn up in dreams or you find yourself drifting off at work and engaging in imaginary conversations with characters and how their day has gone…  Oh and that is just the beginning.

Those who are not of the literary stance will read the above an interpret it as madness and in truth, maybe it is. The thing is the desire and the compulsion to write has to be accompanied with a reason ‘WHY’. Otherwise why else would you sit alone at a desk for hours tapping a keyboard? That is the reality - you are sitting alone imagining and transforming that image in your mind into words in hope that someone will read it. Maybe someone will read it, maybe they won’t – so if no one reads it then what is your WHY?

The WHY could be anything. For me, my why, is that I am able to step into my own inner fantastical world where there are no limits. I can imagine anything I like and push my characters beyond their boundaries rather than have to experience the situations myself. Admittedly, Love Hunt, is based on reality and I would rather have imagined the scenarios rather than experience them in reality.

So once you have your WHY you have your fuel to remind you what you are writing for. Many of the WHY’s from my students have been quite amusing. ‘I want to put characters in some of the weirdest situations and see what happens.’ Some say they want to be the next bestseller (you can’t dismiss someone else’s why by the way). In the memoirs class my students wanted to use writing their life story as a catharsis/healing or for their family to read in future generations.

Something I will mention is that often when there is a WHY outside of yourself motivating yourself to write becomes easier. The WHYs that don’t work are usually based on money. One student once said I want to write to become rich. Well, that why is never guaranteed and there are more ways to make money which are time efficient. I think my favourite WHY came from a girl who wrote some brilliantly humorous pieces ‘I want to make space and time to sit and laugh hysterically at my own jokes while I write.’ Of course the sense of enjoyment she achieved through writing and simply enjoying resulted in her completing numerous books and drove her to make sales. Her infectious enthusiasm and humour shone from her novels.

So my advice: before you begin writing work out your WHY. It will be there to remind you when you are cleaning the toilet to avoid writing that you have a reason why you chose to write a book.

Saturday, 14 February 2015

Labyrinthine - the chapters the actress read and blew me away!

Copyright Ruby Allure

When an eye shows clarity and light, a connection to the soul is revealed.

When an eye is devoid of the celestial blueprint, the soul is lost...

It becomes Retina Blue


The moment of awakening came from the most unexpected source, at the most inconvenient time. It plunged a person’s life into complete disarray - that was how it was supposed to be.

     Olivia squinted in pain, rays of light shone directly into her eyes from the window. Her apartment looked bleary. She lifted her face from the floor and peeled some sketches from her cheek. Instinctively she checked the back of her head for blood. Nothing. Her black, curled hair was matted but there was no wound. Through the blur, something darted across the room. She froze. An androgynous figure wearing black was moving closer.

Inhaling hard, she shook her head. What the..?

The silence bristled.

A dark shape in the intruder’s hand caught her attention. ‘It’ intended to kill her.

“When you’re good and ready we will talk,” it said.

Its voice was deep and confident - mysterious. “That’s once you stop bloody fidgeting!”

Olivia stared. It did not return the glance, instead its eyes, behind dark glasses, remained fixed on an ornate, shimmering hourglass. It appeared to be counting something down.

“What have I done? Who are you? Who sent you?”

“Shhh! I’m waiting,” said the figure.

“Waiting for what?”

“Waiting for the precise moment.”



In the exhibition hall of an exclusive art gallery, a plump, fuming, fifty-something art agent paced up and down muttering under his breath. As he loosened his tie, his shifty eyes darted about in agitation. Hunching his shoulders, he grew increasingly rigid.

“That girl’s always late! It’s her last bloody chance!”

He scraped his chubby fingers over his balding head.

“Complete and utter disrespect! What does she think I am?”

He paused by a white framed window and stared out. For a moment, he just shook his head and checked his watch. I’m sick of it! If she doesn’t get here soon, I’ll have her bloody killed, that way her work might be worth something!

The agent’s face grew increasingly crimson, “this is her last bloody chance!” he spat.


In a luxurious hotel, overlooking Bournemouth’s sandy beaches, Max laid on his king-size bed, smiling at the naked woman before him. He admired her curves as he traced his finger across her tanned, lean stomach. She smiled a coy smile, removed his hand from her hip, and slipped on her black, satin dress. “Time for me to go,” she said.

He sighed, “you don’t really have to go, do you?”

“You know I do.”

She gazed at him, bent over and kissed him on the forehead. Max gazed at her breasts and then into her eyes.

She shook her head, turned, and glanced over her shoulder as she walked towards the door.

He watched the elegant woman leave the room and adjusted himself. He would never see her again.

“Damn, I have to call Olivia!”

Max yawned, rolled over and reached for his mobile. He resented having to call Olivia. She had an exhibition looming and would be at her wits end. Did he really need to deal with all that stress? He huffed; what he put himself through just to be with her was ridiculous. Max smiled wryly; he had his reasons and it was nearly time.


At that precise moment, a ragged, jaded old woman with a plume of matted, white hair clung to a trolley as it careered down a steep hill. She laughed hysterically to herself whilst muttering to the three dolls perched on the wire mesh. Each doll was dressed as an angel and gazed into the distance with crooked doll eyes. Onlookers gazed at the eccentric old woman.

          “You haven’t seen me, you’ll forget… I forgot... So will you.”

The time had come. She had been called. She had a role to play; she just wished she knew the source of the knowledge.


Olivia pulled her knees into her chest and sat with her back against the white wall. Whenever she moved, she winced. Had she been beaten? Drugged? 

“What do you want from me?” she asked again.

The intruder made a sideways glance, “I don’t want anything from you in particular.”

“Look - stop playing games. I know you’re here to…” Olivia gestured at the dark shape.

The intruder waved the object like a toy. “Oh this... No, you have it all wrong. It’s not so much that I’m here to kill you - it’s a mere warning. There are powers at work of which you have no understanding. And it’s far better you know of such things now, before you make any discoveries.”

Olivia gazed suspiciously at the person before her: had someone sent it? Chewing her lip, she frowned. Why warn an artist trying to make a comeback? Olivia glanced at the door. Could she get past?

“I know what you’re thinking and I wouldn’t try it if I were you,” it said.


Max grabbed a white towel from the rack and admired his perfectly sculpted physique in the mirror. He spent hours at the gym pounding the machines for that very reason; he was attractive and knew it. He could have anyone, but he had become ‘stuck’ with Olivia. She was the deal, and he was attached to her until the exhibition was complete.

He glanced at his mobile and huffed; he had to call her. Reluctantly he dialled and waited. After three rings, Olivia’s answering machine clicked on.

“Good morning, darling. I hope everything is okay with the exhibition. I wish I could be there to support you but you know how these conferences go. Work, work, work! Anyway, good luck with the hanging – you know it will look fantastic. Anyway lo…ve you and see you when I get back.”

He checked his watch seven-thirty am and frowned. He called her mobile. No answer.

“Where are you Olivia? You hardly sleep so what are you doing? Get that bloody work up and get me my money!”


The answer phone beeped. Olivia listened to the message and glanced at the intruder; it stood with its arms folded shaking its head. “Don’t trust him. His tone reveals he’s a liar.”

Olivia ignored the comment as she grappled to sit upright. “You know what? I don’t get this... What are you doing here? What do you want from me? If it’s money...”

“Why does it always have to be about money? Do I look as though I have the slightest interest in shinny pieces of metal?”

What did that mean? “Then…?”

“As I said... I’m waiting.” The person in black paused and glanced out of the window and back to the hourglass in front of it.

“Are you some kind of weird stalker of ex-child prodigies?” asked Olivia.

“God, no!” The intruder leant against the wall and sighed. “Do you understand the concept of timing?”  

“In relation to what?” asked Olivia glancing at the door.

“Don’t bother thinking about escape. There isn’t time... And the timing is in relation to the universe,” it responded.

What did it mean? How could she get out? She squinted and touched the back of her head. It was still painful. Olivia frowned; the intruder was real, wasn’t it?


The art agent clenched his fists and gritted his teeth. “She’s done it again! How many times do I have to endure this behaviour?”

Richard, the agent, attacked his mobile phone and pressed re-dial.

“She’d better be on her way! Or... or I’ll...” he muttered. Unconsciously he stamped on the black and white patterned marble floor of the gallery. The phone rang.

“This is Olivia, please leave a message,” said the answering machine clicking on.

“Where the bloody hell are you? Get your pathetic arse over here now! I will not take this shit anymore! You will get here and put this exhibition together or we both lose everything!” he yelled. When he was finished, he snapped the phone shut. Smack! It collided with the floor. The agent loosened his collar; beads of sweat caressed his forehead and dribbled down his nose. Clasping his chest, he groaned and swayed.


Olivia’s instinctive response was to recoil while the verbal darts flew from the answer machine.

The intruder appeared entertained by her response.


Smiling, the intruder watched the last few golden grains trickle through the timer.

“That’s it, my timing’s done,” it said calmly. 

“No! What? You held me at gunpoint so my bloody arsehole of an agent could have a go at me? What kind of weirdo are you?” she demanded.

The intruder turned its back on her and shook the hourglass.

“Yep, the timing is perfect. Time to go. We did well. Er… Thank you.”

Olivia flushed red. “Wait! What are you and who are you working for? Why did you do this?” 

With its back to her, the intruder removed its dark glasses. For a moment, it paused and blinked a couple of times.

Olivia recoiled, “what the...?” She dug her fingers into the carpet and jammed her feet into the floor. Her instinct was to escape but all she could manage was to shake her head.

“I work for someone higher. I am known as the Connector and the timing is falling out,” it said casually. “It’s all got a bit chaotic, usually I wouldn’t take such measures…”

“You’re mad!”

The Connector’s thin lips curled. “Believe what you wish.”

Olivia shifted to kneeling. “What on earth are you?” asked Olivia, tears trickling down her cheeks.

The Connector waited, it expected the inevitable.

Urgently, she grabbed her stomach and suppressed a wave of nausea. Goosebumps prickled all over her body.

The Connector glanced back at the hourglass, “I have overstayed my ‘time’ and witnessing my eyes will help you in the future - we will meet again.”

“But I don’t want to meet again!”

“The conscious choice is not yours and it will be a much nicer experience next time. I won’t bring the weapon.”

Olivia hugged herself; the Connector’s eyes were large and clear. They were so beautiful, so turquoise. Yet there was something missing.

The Connector gestured, “by seeing my eyes you will know what you are looking for - what is extra in you and what I am missing. You are now on a search for Retina Blue: it will be the genius behind your work. Think of it as a divine gift.”

It paused and gazed into her eyes, “you are very lucky- if luck exists,” it smirked.

“Retina Blue? What on earth does that mean?” she asked in a dazed tone.

“I said our time is up! The rest is up to you.” The Connector turned towards the window, paused for a second and glanced back.

“Olivia, consider the people you have in your life. A lot of them are arseholes. Time to clear them out! Transformation is coming!” It grinned, waved, ran and then jumped.

Olivia scrambled urgently to standing and sprinted towards the window. Her glance navigated one hundred and eighty degrees. Nothing. It had disappeared... How was that possible?

The space between the ground and the window was empty. There was no evidence and nowhere for it to go. Nothing. The only other visible living entity was a squawking raven perched on a chimney of the apartment block across the street.

“Go to routine Olivia,” she whispered to herself.



The old woman glanced at her watch; she had two miles to walk to the designated position. She felt tired and weary, just old. Admittedly, there were other ways to travel, it was just she should not influence anything and definitely not talk to anyone. “This one will be perfect,” she croaked.
The link to the book:

Finding the right voice for your audio book.

How important is a voice?

When I first heard the audition for the Labyrinthine, as the audiobook, my hair stood on end. Of all the various voices - this one stood out. It is funny how you just 'know' when something is right. What set this actress apart was her capacity to 'become' the characters and reveal their perspectives. In truth, she simply blew me away. Labyrinthine, the book being turned into audio, is a book with character depths based on symbolic archetypes. That was why the voice was paramount. In one moment she could be an old hag and the next a sexless being. She understood what was needed and literally vocally transformed.

I guess there are numerous authors involved in having their books made into audio and to be quite honest I had no idea what was involved. A novel of around 120,000 words is a recording of approximately twelve hours with numerous takes. The reason that I mention this is because you will have to listen to those twelve hours numerous times and be detailed in your response to the numerous takes. It is not a step for the faint hearted. This is your book and you want it to be the best it can be. What's more, there are moments when you will squirm, when a part of the book you wanted read in a certain way will sound clichéd. It is a heavy process to go through, but one that is worth it in the end because audio books are some of the highest sellers thanks to Audible. What's more, hearing your book come to life is an experience that will blow you away.

Some of my friends asked why I didn't read my books myself. Well the simple truth is: I don't think I could listen to my own voice for twelve hours in repetition. I certainly could not maintain consistency - I would rather let a professional with a fantastic voice do that while I focus on writing my books.

The book that is being made into audio is Labyrinthine, a book I loved writing and a book I feel provides so rather insightful answers about life. Of all the books I have written, I am not surprised that this one was picked at this time.

Read it if you are ready to experience and understand synchronicity:)

Click on this link if you dare:

Monday, 9 February 2015

Wellness advice

Wellness advice...

Has anyone else noticed that the world is run on money, yet most people do not spend time learning about money and investment? I might also point out that the body is run on nutrition, yet how many people learn as much as they can about food and its contribution to health? Maybe I have an alternative perspective - yet surely nutrition, financial wellness and good sleep are fundamental to a happy life. Of course psychology and emotions are all part of wellbeing yet sickness, debt and lack of sleep are the prime contributors to an individual’s demise.

With that in mind, let me ask you ask the following questions:

How much do you know about money and how you can genuinely invest your money to accumulate?

How aware are you of the nutrition that goes into your body?

How much rest and recharge do you allow yourself?

If you get the above right, you may well notice that your mental state changes along with your emotions.  When you feel good the world becomes filled with possibility. Try it and see… Have a lovely dayJ

Sunday, 8 February 2015

Passion, persistence and perserverance.

Passion, persistence and perseverance.

If at first you don’t succeed then try again. This is all very well, however, the word ‘trying’ implies forced effort and repeating the same type of effort. The image of a blue bottle colliding repetitiously with a window comes to mind. If I have learned anything, then doing the same thing over and over again never enables a different outcome. So if at first you don’t succeed, find another way to do what you love or an alternative route to the success you desire.

So what is the success you desire? Why are you doing what you are doing? Is it because you desire a certain outcome? Is that specific outcome realistic? If that outcome does not happen then would you still do what you do for the enjoyment of it? If the answer is yes then you can stop trying and simply enjoy your creation as you enjoy the journey to your intended outcome. If the answer is no, then do you carry the belief that without pain there is no gain? Do you really have to put yourself through pain to achieve your goal? Really? If there is pain aren’t you likely to stop? Isn’t that when the mistakes happen? Obviously the old cliché of learning from your ‘mistakes’ is always apt for progress. Yet mistakes don’t always have to be painful. Instead they can be regarded as diversions - where you come to a road-block and are enabled to experience something new or an alternative way of doing things. Another thing to consider is what you consider a mistake. Personally I don’t generally consider any part of working on what is essentially a passion a mistake unless I don’t enjoy it. So what if what you are creating is not internationally successful over night? Isn’t it about the joy of creation?

So with regards to passion and perseverance, this is also how we perceive what we want to achieve. In the last years I have come to the conclusion that the time I spend writing is more about having the opportunity to step into my creative landscape. At one time I would have felt as though I was pulling a jumbo jet up a mountain using a rope because of the unrealistic expectations I had on myself. That has since transformed and nothing about creation is a chore, instead it is a joy. That was the pain that I was causing myself by have huge expectations of sales and general concepts of success. When I shifted those expectations I realised I simply loved writing stories and putting them out in the world. Writing became easy because there was no pressure. Of course, that is when the shift began and books began to sell. I realised I was creating works that were an absolute enjoyment to create without pressure. That changed the quality of my creation and meant that I could persevere without feeling as though it was a struggle. I hope that will help you. These are a few of the questions I asked myself:

What so you enjoy?

Where is your creative passion?

Ask why you are putting pressure on yourself.

Are there more fun ways to achieve your success?

Ask yourself why you do what you do.

Find out what motivates you.

Create a habit of what you are doing regularly.