Here I am at the edge

THE GREY ONES:- This story continues from where the book “Holding Richmond” finished . As the story ended, the fight to kill these vile creatures had finally been won, but something happened to turn the tide again. 

Helmut glanced at the young lady who lay beside him and his eyes misted over and a tear fell onto his cheek; he thought Jannine hadn’t noticed as he quickly wiped the droplet away, “Who is she?” Jannine asked. “Who is who?” Helmut replied. “I saw you cry a tear for a lost loved one, Helmut, please let me into your heart and before you say it was water dripping, your hair is dry so you can’t use that as an excuse.” “I had a passing thought, you remind me of my young sister. She left us a few years ago and we never heard of her again, the family keep hoping for a letter but as times passes and hopes die.” Jannine cuddled into his taut muscular frame and gave him a soft kiss as she whispered, “I’m sorry, I had no idea and I feel bad for asking.” He rolled onto his back and pulled her down with him, “Please don’t be upset, what I did wasn’t your fault; sometimes I get memories of her on the beach with the wind blowing her hair back and my sister splashing in the water’s edge an

HOME TRUTHS  To the people who are my close friends this will be no shock; to those of you who think you know me or think that by reading the blogs you may have an inkling about me, this will be an eye-opener.  My goal was to hope to be recognised as a writer, to this end I created various personas to suit the style I was writing, all of which have achieved some recognition. The creation of Lana was an attempt to bring attention to my main work not to turn me into an erotica writer, I may be good at it but only readers can make that decision.   I aim to be recognised as a writer who may at times write erotic love stories, I don't think I could forsake all my work to write erotica, no matter what the fees paid.

 This book will NOT be coming out now.  I will write the stories of Alex and Jan for a few close friends who I know enjoy my work, other than that it is over.  I am returning to the stories which I enjoyed writing, even if nobody other than my close friends will now enjoy. 

An indication that I have been on line too long without a rest, when I start to see the lines which make the picture and not the image :(

 Along side reading Don Quixote' I have decided to read Joseph Conrad's book "Heart of Darkkness," this is the book which the film Apocalypse now is based on, although with a modern setting and moved to Vietnam from the Congo.

Alex looked at Jan and said in disbelief, "You wanted to test me!" Jan bowed her head and replied, "I'm sorry love, can you forgive me?"

 A week or two ago, I came across my school reports while looking for some motorcycle information (no link, other than they are in the same pile of documents). A few truths appeared and also I found out something I had never realised until then.  Apparently my English teacher thought I was not very good, which was a shock to me as I had always thought he was the one who had seen how good I may have been; that turned out to be my college tutor.  I thought I was held back in Science by my reluctance to ask questions, which was true but what I never realised was my Science teacher thought I was good at Physics and should have tried to study the Science; to me Physics always appeared a hard nut to crack, I have always thought I may have been good as a researcher though.  I like the idea of being like Kolchak (the original series), I base my character Phil Moore in the Chronicles series on him.

THE LOST SHIP              I stood atop the hills above the old Ship inn at Satlburn-on-the-Sea in Teeside, looking out into the rolling waves and my thoughts wandered as I thought “It is easy to see why the bay had once been a smuggler’s hideaway, the hills around are steep and anyone trying to catch you would be easily out run.” I was watching the bay with its shallow beach strewn with pebbles; when I noticed what I thought was the sea mist rolling in but this was different to the usual sea mists; this mist had a denser consistency than normal mists you get on the coasts.             I had decided to go and investigate, when I felt a hand on my shoulder, “Tha don’t want to go down there laddy!”             I turned to face an old man with a grizzled face; he wore a sailor’s cap and an old ragged and threadbare rope knit sweater; the same type sailors use at sea for as long as jumpers have been knit, “What do you mean?” I gingerly asked.              “You think, yon mist

http://www.blacklibrary.com/warhammer-40000/eclipse-of-hope-ebook.html Take a group of hardened Space Marines, add in a ship that should not exist yet transforms as you walk through it and a touch of fear, the end result is well worth the read :) 

Jannine could feel his strong arms pulling her into the strong body of his and she realised she would have been ready for him but the friendship had to be done at his pace; this way the love would grow and be strong and he would realise he had been loved and not just lusted after. Helmut gazed through the misty rain and dark shadows and asked, “What happened to Ian?” Jannine didn’t take her eyes off the glass but the sadness was easy to hear in her voice when she replied, “Nobody knows, he went out one night and the next day we found the boat sailing; we found no signs of him or a struggle on the boat.” “What was the weather like the night he set out?” “That is the reason for the mystery. The night was still and it had been a beautifully calm day, not a sign of high wind or a storm. Ian had been a good swimmer since his late teens but his body never turned up along the shores and the boat came ashore intact, the whole thing put the village on edge for months.” He pulled Jan

Tonight, my son posted a photo of my father and said "This was his only memory of his Grandfather," this got me thinking of what I remembered of my Grandfather.    I have vague memories of an old man in a flat cap and a ragged fisherman's jumper, trousers held up by a sturdy belt. His face always smiling, even though he had few teeth.    My memories of my Grandmother are even scarcer, I was told she was a lovely lady and adored me. I cannot remember much as she died when I was 3.   My parents brought me to Clevedon in 1963 when I was 8 and that was the last I heard of my Grandfather until I heard he died when I was about 18. There were so many things I wished I could have asked him.   Imagine moving 400 miles from your family, having to start a life with no roots and no friends from school; that was what I had to do.

 That was Bill Chart's old office.”     “Do you mean Adrian's dad?”     “Yes, nobody's been near it since he died.”      “Not even Adrian?”

 I have added another section to Lana's story tonight, the extra pages will only be available in Amazon/ Kobo or to be bought from me.   You had the pleasure of reading the larger section, it would be nice as a ty for me, if you paid for the book.

Last week, my editor Julia in an attempt to show how much I had achieved in the last two years, asked me to count up my short stories.  While 200 may appear to be a huge number and I fully understand your scepticism about my figures; please consider that from from July 2011 until October 2011 I was writing three or four 3,500 word stories a week.   The proposed Chronicles of Mark Johnson series has 25 stories now, Pat Canella has 13 stories, my on line serial The Word had 14 stories, my current WIP To Elfenmere has about 8 stories. This does not take into account the number of stand alone stories I have written for friends or the shorter series like Killer's Hill.    I have many which will probably never see the light of day and yet in all this number there was only one story which I totally discarded.

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B007ODWS4C From my editor Julia on Nerja.  A good, well-written short story There is a story rarely heard about Nerja. A few months after I wrote it, I was asked by a man called Don Ford to send him a copy as he was interested in Native American cultures. The first copy I sent wasn't compatible with his reader, he asked me to change the format and as soon as he got the copy, with no word of thanks, he stopped chatting on line:- another theft of my work; I think so.

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B007ODWS4C The first of my books to get two 5 star ratings at Amazon has been put back on the shelf.   Nerja may not be long but it is breathtaking.

My best seller does it again Amazon Best Sellers Rank: #118,536 Paid in Kindle Store http://www.amazon.com/dp/B007CJKK84

You never know what I may write; if I stop, you may never know  what you missed

The cold winds whistled through the broken planks as Helmut felt the cold bite of the winds coming off the sea. Jannine noticed him shiver and said, “Come on, let’s get you out of those wet clothes and into some dry ones; we don’t want our guest to think we don’t wish him to be comfortable on such a windy night.” Helmut started to undress but stopped after taking his jumper off. His tall, muscular frame showed through his soaking shirt and Jannine’s eyes glistened as her irises opened to the sight of such a sexy man, never before had she been this aroused. She had seen the men on the docks and fantasised about them but they were like family; here was a new man in the area, lost and lonely. Jannine was beginning to think her fantasy of making love to a sailor may yet come true; Helmut hesitated and she said, “Don’t tell me you’re shy, Helmut.” The blonde haired sailor shook his thick head of hair as he dried the salt water from the matted mass and said with a wink and twinkle in h

The time of year has arrived when this writer has to migrate across his room, from October until late March I usually can be found near the far wall, which is furthest from the door to the garden and slightly warmer. Come late March and the better light quality you will find me migrating back to the door, plus this give me a chance to stretch my legs, sitting on my bed in cramped space was hurting my knees.

 Plans for book 3 in the series have been shelved, instead of a separate book I am going to try and join books 2 & 3 into one large volume.

http://alsdomain.weebly.com/pat-canella.html  A final tribute to what I hoped would be a good series of stories, in the end nobody cared for them :( NOW you get the whole 15 part series free. I hope the irony of the story is not lost on you.

The hardest role to play? Hero or baddy?  Neither The hardest role by far is the clown.  On the outside laughing and joking, on the inside yearning to be taken seriously or wanting to cry. I may joke about a lack of sales and selling a book a month is a WOW time for me hehehe. On the inside, I am saying I am tired of reading of YOUR success, your book deals and film deals and NYT best sellers.  I wish you well, but it eats my soul to keep reading about everywhere.    Why not create a site called "Ego time," and then you can all read about YOUR success stories and leave lesser mortals alone.

The book my editor and I consider superior to book 1 which won an award stands doomed to be binned.   Q:- Why?   A:- Reader apathy.   In the eight months since book 1 came out it has sold only four copies. In the time since the award in October it has sold ONE copy.    I have talked and blogged myself to a standstill, NOW it is up to you, the readers.   This book has taken months to get written, working up to 10 hours a day and all I ask for it is a pittance. Consider the time involved against what I get back, all those hours for at the best $2 a book :(  

Helmut got up from his seat and walked over to the fire, before saying, “Thank you for the kindness you have shown to a stranger.”             The warmth of the fire flowed into Helmut’s tired and cold body as he stood by the hearth, his thoughts drifting between what had happened and what was to come. For now he was pleased to receive the warmth and friendship offered him at “The Pot.”             The winds howled outside as they drove the waves inward onto the pebbled beach, the men at “The Pot” could hear the winds whistling down the chimney as the fire blazed in the hearth. Windows rattled in their old wooden frames and even the warm cable knit sweaters struggled to keep the effects of the harsh north wind out, as Jim said to Helmut, “I still can’t place your accent. When shall we know the answer, Helmut?”             Helmut grinned and said, “I’ll tell you my story tomorrow. For tonight I need a warm meal and a hot drink and a bed, I was fighting the waves and the cold for

http://kannemeinel.wordpress.com/2013/03/05/interview-for-represented/ This is a new book by a friend of mine.   Why should your sexuality affect your sales?  It didn't for Queen or Sir Elton John. Here is an interview K' Anne did recently.

Despite little publicity, Holding Richmond is thriving with 2 sales in the last month my best seller keeps rising and is now in the top 100,000 at Amazon   http://www.amazon.com/dp/B007CJKK84

Did we see them? The Charlie in the title refers to Charles Palmerston, the hero of the book above.  The intended short story Did we see them was intended to be a sequel to this mystery, I decided to stop the story after about 20 pages, even though I could see the story going on for a lot longer. The reason I stopped was my usual one, I was arrogant to think the original story would sell, which it has not. One day, I may find some motivation to start again, but that depends on readers buying some of my  ebooks    https://www.draft2digital.com/book/ selections.