If you’d like to hear from Caesar’s warhorse or you fancy pill-popping to re-live your past life, you’ve come to the right place. Within these pages lie dastardly mouse-goings-on, a tonsil-hugging kiss and a tea party in an Undertaker’s.
These thirty-five short stories take you on a somewhat unconventional journey from Alexander the Great to the disappearing ice-cream. You can share breakfast with Maggie and Denis, sympathise with John Keats and meet Bill Hayley Rocking Around the Clock. Jack’s Back with a different kind of bean and you can dance with a daffodil in a most un-Wordsworth-like way. There are ghostly happenings in the pub, and Abbess Clementina tells of life during the Dissolution. Here are tales of little Alfie who nearly succumbed to Bird Flu and of why Jeff is now going straight. This book takes you from Snow Angels to binge eating, murder by saucepan and what Bertie does with his black feather. Even the Greek Gods and the Writers Animal Group make an unexpected appearance. Space cows? No problem!
Kiss
Music blares and Mavis' voice joins that of a bunch of sex-crazed women, all yelling like lunatics. Fin springs into a sudden spotlight slicking back his hair and grinning fit to burst. He's wearing, if that is the right description, a black sleeveless T-shirt and red cycling shorts. He sports more lumps and bumps than a bag of carrots. The music switches to ‘The Stripper’ and his midriff suddenly takes on a life of its own. He's the hula-hoop champion without the hoop. Feet rooted to the floor, he flexes his, well I must say, totally impressive muscles, revelling in the moment. The air’s blue with smart suggestions. The music is way off the decibel guidelines. I don't doubt this is the last thing I will ever hear.
‘Ladies and gents’, Smasher Baron grabs the mike, ‘now for our grand finale – the raffle.’ Cheers fill the air and everyone settles back for the show. ‘Whoever has the winning ticket … as you naughty ladies know … collects … a smacker, a smooch, a snog from our own…Fin!’
Women shriek and wolf-whistle and wise-cracking men order another round.
‘Here we go then. Fin – will you do the honours? Have a feel around in here – bit of a smirk – and see what you can come up with.’ He holds the box of tickets high up. Fin, shoulders swaggering, sashays over and wiggles a mighty hand in the air. He plunges it into the box. ‘Gotcha!’ he yells. ‘Come here me little beauty!’
‘I need the loo.’ Mavis squawks. ‘Can't hang on.’ She's dancing about like a fairy on a hot tin cake rack.
Smasher continues, ‘and the lucky winner, girl or guy’ – a knowing wink – ‘is number 251.’
Mavis’ scream almost shatters the roof tiles. She leaps about waving her pink ticket. Fin leers, puckers his lips, hips swaying as he steps from the stage. The crowd parts leaving an unobstructed pathway to Mavis who stands transfixed, her right foot pulsating to some unheard personal rumba. His beady eyes lock onto hers as he weaves his exaggerated way towards her.
You can buy the book from Amazonor use the QR code below.
