Fiction
Némésis – Book 3 Part 6
Ad Dumayr Syria 18th February 2018 Ripley woke early and cuddled into the still sleeping James. There really wasn’t much room for two of them in the sleeping bag, but she was glad of the [more…]
Fiction
Fiction
Joe Malone, Part Forty-Eight
So we all sipped our drinks. And stared at each other and said nothing. Until I decided that seeing as I had the gun, I should probably lead the discussion. So I said to Sir [more…]
Fiction
The Book of Ruin – Book One, Ch. Three
“And Gordon fell in with Kinnockio the Clown and Blair the Grinning Butcher and Imelda the Greedy Scouse Gob and was at once at home among them for they were all useless, idle, thieving cunts……” [more…]
Fiction
Némésis – Book 3 Part 5
RAF Akrotiri and Syria 17/18th February 2018 Phillips had been looking for Cécile, driving around the large base in a Land Rover he had borrowed from the RAF Police Flight. He had tried the beaches, [more…]
Fiction
Joe Malone, Part Forty-Seven
I moved down the final steps of the staircase and went across to him. “Hello Lord Bixby. I’m with Russian Meerkats Life Insurance. I’m here about a fraudulent sudden death claim.” His eyes showed that [more…]
Fiction
The Book of Ruin – Book One, Ch. Two
“And as Gordon grew, even his Sire, the Preacherman and tight-fisted Presbyterian sonofafuckingbitch……” “Tight-fisted Presbyterian sonofafuckingbitch.” “…looked on him and said unto his woman, this one must go away and be taught bribery, blackmail and [more…]
Fiction
Némésis – Book 3 Part 4
Halward’s Road Trip 17th February 2018 Halward had been right. It was bitterly cold in the night of the desert and the water began to freeze in their water bottles. Ripley was due to take [more…]
Fiction
Joe Malone, Part Forty-Six
I wanted some answers. I wanted some answers right now. And people in this house were going to give them to me. Lady Vanessa, for one. Ch 46 – Honey, I’m Home! I stood up [more…]
Fiction
The Book of Ruin – Book One, Ch. One
BOOK ONE, A RUINOUS FEUD . It is in an old, roofless, dilapidated building, without windows or doors, more a few piles of rubble than a building, set in a devastated, once-urban wilderness, two hundred [more…]