Tag: Books

“The Devil You Don’t” – A beta readers view

It could be said that of all the women one could meet, whether contrived or by sheer luck, what are the odds it would turn out to be the woman who was being paid a very large sum to kill you.

John Pennington is a man who may be lucky in business, but not so lucky in love. He has just broken up with Phillipa Sternhaven, the woman he thought was the one, but relatives and circumstances, and perhaps because she was a ‘princess’, may also have contributed to the end result.

So, what do you do when you are heartbroken?

That is a story that slowly unfolds, from the first meeting with his nemesis on Lake Geneva, all the way to a hotel room in Sorrento, where he learns the shattering truth.

What should have been a high turns out to be something else entirely, and from that point every thing goes to hell in a handbasket.

He suddenly realises his so-called friend Sebastian has not exactly told him the truth about a small job he asked him to do, the woman he is falling in love with is not quite who she says she is, and he is caught in the middle of a war between two men who consider people becoming collateral damage as part of their business.

The story paints the characters cleverly displaying all their flaws and weaknesses. The locations add to the story at times taking me back down memory lane, especially to Venice where in those back streets I confess it’s not all that hard to get lost.

All in all a thoroughly entertaining story with, for once, a satisfying end.

…

Available on Amazon here: https://amzn.to/2Xyh1ow

…

Memories of the conversations with my cat – 78

As some may be aware, but many not, Chester, my faithful writing assistant, mice catcher, and general pain in the neck, passed away some months ago.

Recently I was running a series based on his adventures, under the title of Past Conversations with my cat.

For those who have not had the chance to read about all of his exploits I will run the series again from Episode 1

These are the memories of our time together…

20160903_163858

This is Chester.  He doesn’t like stormy weather, particularly at night.

We’ve been having a lot of hot days with no relief in temperatures.  From mid-morning, the air conditioning had been running until midnight.

But, Chester’s usual hiding place has been in the non-aircoditioned part of the house, so he’s had to come down to join me.

There’s been no rain for weeks and although some days are cloudy all it does is worsen the humidity which at times even the airconditioning can’t relieve.

But when the storms come, after a long dry period, they are intense, and when the lightning strikes the thunder is particularly loud, and the cat jumps.

Never let a scaredy-cat sit on your lap in a storm.  I did.  Once.  Never again.

I put him on the chair next to me and covered him up.  It helps.

An hour later the storm has passed, and he goes back to lying on the floor.

Oops, was that another crack of lightning?

Memories of the conversations with my cat – 77

As some may be aware, but many not, Chester, my faithful writing assistant, mice catcher, and general pain in the neck, passed away some months ago.

Recently I was running a series based on his adventures, under the title of Past Conversations with my cat.

For those who have not had the chance to read about all of his exploits I will run the series again from Episode 1

These are the memories of our time together…

20160905_163149

This is Chester.  He’s not happy we’re cleaning the office.

I guess I’m not either.

But…

It’s school holidays and it’s natural that while parents are working grandparents take up the slack as childminders.  The trick is keeping them amused, and away from computers or being planted in front of the TV.

Of course, knowing the level of fear the grandchildren can bring to the cat, he views their arrival with some apprehension, keeping his distance.

Based on previous experiences, he is assuming they will remain out of the office on the computer for one, and on the smartphone for the other, so he slinks down the passage and quickly runs into the office.

Is this going happen often, he asks.

They’re on holidays, it’s here or daycare, and I’d rather it be here.

Then they appear at the doorway.  “OK.  We’re here to clean the room.  Where do we start?”

Chester’s cornered.  He knows it.  I know it, and worse still, they know it.

He disappears under the desk, safe for the moment, but it’s going to be a long morning.

“The Things We Do For Love” – Coming soon

Is love the metaphorical equivalent to ‘walking the plank’; a dive into uncharted waters?

For Henry the only romance he was interested in was a life at sea, and when away from it, he strived to find sanctuary from his family and perhaps life itself.  It takes him to a small village by the sea, s place he never expected to find another just like him, Michelle, whom he soon discovers is as mysterious as she is beautiful.

Henry had long since given up the notion of finding romance, and Michelle couldn’t get involved for reasons she could never explain, but in the end both acknowledge that something happened the moment they first met.  

Plans were made, plans were revised, and hopes were shattered.

A chance encounter causes Michelle’s past to catch up with her, and whatever hope she had of having a normal life with Henry, or anyone else, is gone.  To keep him alive she has to destroy her blossoming relationship, an act that breaks her heart and shatters his.

But can love conquer all?

It takes a few words of encouragement from an unlikely source to send Henry and his friend Radly on an odyssey into the darkest corners of the red light district in a race against time to find and rescue the woman he finally realizes is the love of his life.

The cover, at the moment, looks like this:

lovecoverfinal1

Oh, the joys of shopping for clothes

It’s one of those events that we all hate.  Ok let me qualify that statement, it’s an event that we men hate when of other half goes clothes shopping.

Here’s the deal, why is it they head straight to the right clothes rack to begin with, select the clothes they eventually buy, then proceed to spend the next hour and a half looking at everything else, none of which they eventually purchase.

I asked once, a rather dangerous thing to do, and I was told that everything else had to be eliminated to justify the original selections.

Ok, I think I’d rather negotiate a stretch of quicksand than to ask again.

So what does one do while waiting?

There is that heart sinking feeling that will not leave you, that you will be asked that inevitable but unanswerable question, ‘how does this look on me?’

Sadly there is no correct answer.  As all men are aware it does not matter what you say, it will come back to either of, if you like it, ‘so you don’t care what I get?’, so if you don’t like it (and bearing in mind that this is never a view to put forward under any circumstances), ‘so you don’t really care at all?

And while you have those dreaded thoughts running through your mind, there is the fact all waiting chairs for men are uncomfortable, probably intentionally, you wait patiently while listening to the in-store music which in this case is quite good.

I cannot identify the songs because it’s not the normal rock and roll but something with a pleasant beat and to a certain extent soothing.

Perhaps a team of very highly paid psychiatrists have specially worked up a playlist of such music because it tends to put the shopper in the mood to relax and buy more.  That also is aided but the very helpful and polite sales staff, who might convince you to make that extra purchase without you realizing it.

Welcome to the world of 21st-century salesmanship.

Of course, I have shazam checking out the playlist and to me, it’s a rather obscure list of songs that I’d not really heard before.

Currently its playing ‘It’s all about love’ by Wild Royal Coast.  Tell me, have you heard of them?  Next, ‘Crazy’ by Friendless Feat Dem Feels.  Ok, now we’re going down that rabbit hole of obscure bands.

Moving on, it’s now time to look at the clientele.  Well, perhaps not.  It’s all shapes and sizes and ages but the one common denominator there are very few men accompanying the women. 

Perhaps unlike me, they have perfected the art of excusing themselves from the quicksand of having to offer an opinion that can quite possibly lead to either a breakup or, at worst, a messy and complicated divorce.

And by a quirk of ironical fate, he will be left all of her clothes as part of the settlement.

Memories of the conversations with my cat – 76

As some may be aware, but many not, Chester, my faithful writing assistant, mice catcher, and general pain in the neck, passed away some months ago.

Recently I was running a series based on his adventures, under the title of Past Conversations with my cat.

For those who have not had the chance to read about all of his exploits I will run the series again from Episode 1

These are the memories of our time together…

20160907_135509

This is Chester.  He’s resting after a rather traumatic morning.

He came down sometime during the morning, into the office, and found me asleep in my chair.

After a long night last night, working on one of my stories, the plotline stretched well into the night and the creative juices were flowing.

It was very late when I got to bed, and I was surprised that he was not on the bed waiting for me like he usually is.

He’s one of those cats, very hard to move, and very difficult to work around when you try to stretch your legs,  And, being summer, he tends to jump around thinking it’s prey, and bites.

However…

He came down, saw me asleep and decided that I might be dead or something worse.

First, he jumped for the desk to my lap.  I didn’t move.

Second, he used a paw to tap on my arm.  I didn’t feel it.

Third, he did one of those hideous cat screams, and that nearly did give me a heart attack.

What is it they say, the cure is worse than the disease?

“What the hell is the matter with you,” I ask when finally my heart rate is back to under 200.

“I thought you were dead.”

“Isn’t that what you want, to become master of the house?”

“I’m already that, I just need a servant.  Don’t do that again.  Good servants are hard to find.”

With that, he jumps down and goes back to his lair, plotting, no doubt, the next lot of mischief he can get into.

 

“The Things We Do For Love” – Coming soon

Is love the metaphorical equivalent to ‘walking the plank’; a dive into uncharted waters?

For Henry the only romance he was interested in was a life at sea, and when away from it, he strived to find sanctuary from his family and perhaps life itself.  It takes him to a small village by the sea, s place he never expected to find another just like him, Michelle, whom he soon discovers is as mysterious as she is beautiful.

Henry had long since given up the notion of finding romance, and Michelle couldn’t get involved for reasons she could never explain, but in the end both acknowledge that something happened the moment they first met.  

Plans were made, plans were revised, and hopes were shattered.

A chance encounter causes Michelle’s past to catch up with her, and whatever hope she had of having a normal life with Henry, or anyone else, is gone.  To keep him alive she has to destroy her blossoming relationship, an act that breaks her heart and shatters his.

But can love conquer all?

It takes a few words of encouragement from an unlikely source to send Henry and his friend Radly on an odyssey into the darkest corners of the red light district in a race against time to find and rescue the woman he finally realizes is the love of his life.

The cover, at the moment, looks like this:

lovecoverfinal1

Oh, the joys of shopping for clothes

It’s one of those events that we all hate.  Ok let me qualify that statement, it’s an event that we men hate when of other half goes clothes shopping.

Here’s the deal, why is it they head straight to the right clothes rack to begin with, select the clothes they eventually buy, then proceed to spend the next hour and a half looking at everything else, none of which they eventually purchase.

I asked once, a rather dangerous thing to do, and I was told that everything else had to be eliminated to justify the original selections.

Ok, I think I’d rather negotiate a stretch of quicksand than to ask again.

So what does one do while waiting?

There is that heart sinking feeling that will not leave you, that you will be asked that inevitable but unanswerable question, ‘how does this look on me?’

Sadly there is no correct answer.  As all men are aware it does not matter what you say, it will come back to either of, if you like it, ‘so you don’t care what I get?’, so if you don’t like it (and bearing in mind that this is never a view to put forward under any circumstances), ‘so you don’t really care at all?

And while you have those dreaded thoughts running through your mind, there is the fact all waiting chairs for men are uncomfortable, probably intentionally, you wait patiently while listening to the in-store music which in this case is quite good.

I cannot identify the songs because it’s not the normal rock and roll but something with a pleasant beat and to a certain extent soothing.

Perhaps a team of very highly paid psychiatrists have specially worked up a playlist of such music because it tends to put the shopper in the mood to relax and buy more.  That also is aided but the very helpful and polite sales staff, who might convince you to make that extra purchase without you realizing it.

Welcome to the world of 21st-century salesmanship.

Of course, I have shazam checking out the playlist and to me, it’s a rather obscure list of songs that I’d not really heard before.

Currently its playing ‘It’s all about love’ by Wild Royal Coast.  Tell me, have you heard of them?  Next, ‘Crazy’ by Friendless Feat Dem Feels.  Ok, now we’re going down that rabbit hole of obscure bands.

Moving on, it’s now time to look at the clientele.  Well, perhaps not.  It’s all shapes and sizes and ages but the one common denominator there are very few men accompanying the women. 

Perhaps unlike me, they have perfected the art of excusing themselves from the quicksand of having to offer an opinion that can quite possibly lead to either a breakup or, at worst, a messy and complicated divorce.

And by a quirk of ironical fate, he will be left all of her clothes as part of the settlement.

Memories of the conversations with my cat – 76

As some may be aware, but many not, Chester, my faithful writing assistant, mice catcher, and general pain in the neck, passed away some months ago.

Recently I was running a series based on his adventures, under the title of Past Conversations with my cat.

For those who have not had the chance to read about all of his exploits I will run the series again from Episode 1

These are the memories of our time together…

20160907_135509

This is Chester.  He’s resting after a rather traumatic morning.

He came down sometime during the morning, into the office, and found me asleep in my chair.

After a long night last night, working on one of my stories, the plotline stretched well into the night and the creative juices were flowing.

It was very late when I got to bed, and I was surprised that he was not on the bed waiting for me like he usually is.

He’s one of those cats, very hard to move, and very difficult to work around when you try to stretch your legs,  And, being summer, he tends to jump around thinking it’s prey, and bites.

However…

He came down, saw me asleep and decided that I might be dead or something worse.

First, he jumped for the desk to my lap.  I didn’t move.

Second, he used a paw to tap on my arm.  I didn’t feel it.

Third, he did one of those hideous cat screams, and that nearly did give me a heart attack.

What is it they say, the cure is worse than the disease?

“What the hell is the matter with you,” I ask when finally my heart rate is back to under 200.

“I thought you were dead.”

“Isn’t that what you want, to become master of the house?”

“I’m already that, I just need a servant.  Don’t do that again.  Good servants are hard to find.”

With that, he jumps down and goes back to his lair, plotting, no doubt, the next lot of mischief he can get into.

 

That helicopter story that keeps me awake – Part 2

On the ground, not daring to move

…

Lying there, afraid to move, I honestly believed that was just the stupidest thing I’d ever done.

Aside from the fact I could see we were about to be blown to kingdom come by a rocket, I had that split second to decide if I wanted to be incinerated, or in possession of 206 broken bones.

I guess I was assuming I’d survive the landing. 

After all the helicopter was only about twenty to thirty feet above the ground and not moving very fast, in fact, it was slowing, and turning away, when the pilot saw the rocket launcher.

I could hear the crackling of fire not far from me, a result of the helicopter hitting the ground.  It wasn’t a large explosion, and certainly not accompanied by a hail of red-hot metal parts.

Not yet.

I moved and it hurt.  Understandable.  But there didn’t seem to be any broken bones, which was nothing short of a miracle.  I did try to affect a roll when landing as we were trained in parachute jumping, and maybe that had helped.

Enough time to recover, I rolled over and got to my knees.  Ok, that hurt, twinges in my lower back, a slight sprain in my right ankle.  No running then.

Then I heard the gears crunching, so sort an old Toyota pickup would make, followed by an over-revving engine.  A novice driver.  Or a man in a hurry.

Damn.

The pickup was coming back to check the wreckage.

And if there were any survivors.

No gun, lost that in the jump.  But, as luck would have it, an AK47 was lying on the ground between me and the burning wreckage.

Only one problem.  The pickup would be on me before I could get to it.

Is this the very definition of being between a rock and a hard place?