Short Stories to Entertain

 GREAT NEWS My book JUST WHO IS ELLIOT SHALLOT is free to download from Friday 13th June until Wednesday 17th June Starting at 12am PDT CLICK LINK JUST WHO IS ELLIOT SHALLOT

  The day a highly disheveled and ridiculous looking Henry Snook first thought he might be a comedian was the day he stood in the dock waiting to be sentenced. Those had been the judge’s words after all. Standing in a strangely lopsided way the pink six-inch stiletto, so pink it would send shocking spiraling into space, was so small it screwed up his right foot in a painful ball. Obviously on the wrong foot and pointing outwards, the right footed calf length, hand tooled leather, cowboy boot, with two-inch heel, on his left foot, was absurdly floppy being made for a giant that he hoped he would never meet again. Both were brand new. The four inch discrepancy between the height of his right and left feet was obviously the cause of his asymmetrical stance. All the evidence had been heard and the testimony of those involved including the blonde salesgirl , the giant, the giant’s wife, the Car Lot owner, the patrolman , the custody sergeant and the owner of the steer had been note...

I thought about it as I climbed the stairs to the smart guy’s office. In fact, I’d thought about it a lot during the last ten years and one word always came to mind: invisibility. There was no doubt about it, I was invisible . A word with the literal meaning - unable to be seen and that was me for sure because no one noticed me even though I was there all the time. I was there every single minute of every single day I was supposed to be there and without a break; I was never sick. Anyway, that’s what I told the man when he asked, that I felt invisible.

“Come on, let’s go,” she said standing up unconcerned her low-cut top was undone to her navel, blue silky bra with white flesh hanging out. Her warm, soft hand small in his great big mitt, the slight squeeze encouraging, the sudden determined tug betraying an overpowering need. Kissing, proper kissing. They had been kissing and fondling in the dark corner behind the door. Chaos all around. Hectic. The noise. The thumping base- up beat . The toxic smell of enjoyment.  Rick is knocked back surprised how sharp the edge of a door could be as it slammed against his head. That was Jimbo coming in, with exuberance, the usual flamboyant entrance. The big, I ’ve arrived, and late as usual. Wearing his trademark wrap around shades. Looking cool, well at least he thought so. But most importantly, so did the girls.  

   GREAT NEWS   My latest book, THE DESENZANO LAUNDRY WAR  has been published e-book and paperback now available on AMAZON CLICK TO BUY SUMMARY Who would expect a laundry war on the idyllic shores of Lake Garda. That’s what Emily Beech, runaway wife of London crime boss Charlie Beech, walks into.     Charlie is determined to find Emily but is distracted by a deal with the Japanese and Italians that may be slipping away from him.     Hiding not only from Charlie but his Milan crime associates Emily makes friends and tries to build a life and business while navigating an unexpected love triangle.     DI Dave Simmonds desperately wants to persuade Emily to give evidence against Charlie, almost jeopardising her life in the process. But Emily is smarter than anyone gives her credit for, having spent the last five years putting all the pieces in place for a plan that she just needs a little more time to bring to fruition.     Will s...

  “Hi there matey, you new here?”   “Yup, arrived yesterday. See that big lump of mountain over there, somewhere on it there’s a rope that’s snapped. That’s mine. The ends are probably all frayed and flapping in the wind. I went down two hundred metres and landed on my head on an ice-covered rock where all that lovely soft snow had blown off. Each side there was a deep snow hole. It probably would have made no difference though. Name’s Ernie, Ernest Edwards, from Newcastle.”