Sunday, 7 February 2016

Barnes and Noble sales

Barnes: A new development in the sale of my books, they are now available at Barnes and Noble

Wednesday, 13 January 2016

I'm on my Weebly blog

Weebly is better for me

After this post, we can follow me - if you wish - on my Weebly blog (

My reason for stopping this blog is simple, there aren't many readers despite being in numerous G+circles. I get more readers per day on Weebly than I do on here in a month. As I keep being told it's about coverage, the statistics tell their own story. 

Tuesday, 12 January 2016


David Bowie

This extract is the beginning of a story I'd considered writing since I heard this EP.

    From his demeanour, it was difficult to understand what this man did to the city of Meldritch. The once thriving city now lay in ruins, their demise was brought up on them by their desire to appease the man who stood at the city gates.

    He was not rich, nor powerful. To look at the poor wretch, you would imagine he’d had a hard life, for he was thin with broken teeth and unkempt in his appearance. When he spoke or sang, his words and music gripped the imagination of the people like a fever. His words and music had the ability to drive normally sane people to do outlandish things to stop him from leaving.

    When he entered Meldritch - as he had many cities before - the people had no idea what lay in store for them. On his departure, he left in his wake a city dazzled by his stories of far off lands, but he had an agenda that nobody knew about until it was too late to do anything.

     Like all things evil, once he’d had his pleasures, he left; leaving behind a trail of misery and disgust. For a while, everything had appeared pleasantly joyous as the man spread his wonderous stories and ate and drank freely.

     By all the reports, you’d expect the man to be of great stature and strength, but the opposite was true. Strength and stature were not his powers; his powers came from his ability to capture your soul with his words. Tales from enchanted lands flowed from his dry lips like leaves of dying trees.

    The time being the late Fall, the town’s people begged the stranger to stay, but he’d tired of their company, and all he had to say was, “The land calls me to walk a new path.” The first falls of early snow chilled the earth, and the fruits had long gone from the trees and hedges. The man stood at the gate and steadied himself for the journey ahead.

    With a last glance at the city he was leaving, he walked out of the gates, and sneered under his breath, “They never learn, Drux.”

    Following in his master’s footsteps was Drux - a large dog - wherever Baal Korax went, Drux was close to the heel. Nobody was sure how they’d crossed paths, some say Baal had rescued Drux from an icy cavern; others will tell you that Baal raised Drux from a welp, the last of his breed of wolfen.

 Like Drux, Baal had a distant past that eluded memory. The past was so much blank to him; Ball had no ideas where to call home, or when he came into the world. All he could say is he’d been a traveling scribe since he could remember. The man didn’t bother much about his past, to him the road in front was all that mattered and for now, the road led to the high ranges and the place he called home. “Come, Drux,” he called as man and beast left the sight of the city, “It won’t be long before you can return to your true form,” the man said as he ruffled the dog’s dirty mane.

 The two travelers took to the open road and left the city in their past, never to return, for that would be to tempt fate. Baal had spent most of his life on these roads, and never been back to any village or city. The only place he returned to was his cabin every winter.

Junior Doctors Strike


I am in favour of this strike. For too many years successive governments have relied on the medical staff not to strike to enforce pay cuts and longer hours. 

People will lay the blame for the strike on the #Tories but the health care has been hit in both North Wales and Staffordshire and they are Labour run services.

Under this government, #Bristol has an up to date hospital that is easy to get to, rather than the old hospital at Frenchay that was a terrible place to get to. It used to take me four hours, and two bus trips, for a ten-minute appointment - even though the hospital is only a few mile away - there is no direct bus link. 

With Southmead hospital being @Bristol & SouthWest's main hospital we needed a heliport station for emergency airlifts, and Southmead was the obvious choice as it has open spaces for the helicopter to land.

Monday, 11 January 2016

Are we being watched?

Unforeseen forces
Over the past three years, I have done a number of posts on the subject of Guardian Angels and my belief I am being watched for some reason.  

 I still believe that for reasons undisclosed I have been saved. You may consider me conceited. Beyond my belief in the afterlife, I have recently being getting numerous flashbacks - I can vaguely recall the incidents concerned, but why am I getting these flashbacks? 

 Am I going mad, has my time run out and I need to come to terms with certain matters? 

  For several years, my friends have told me that I write very good ghost stories - some made the top 25 on - this is borne out now by my recent project project involves being paid by a Norwegian magazine to ghostwrite horror stories for their site.

Relative values

Amazon Vs Barnes & Noble 
My outlook 
I can only speak for myself, and their values in my world of writing. 

This month's sales on Barnes & Noble (11 e-books) are about three times what I expect to sell on Amazon this year. has been of no use to my in my quest for sales. They continually mess up covers, never think of changing a cover -it is a nightmare. You can never get the site to understand the basics of writing - too many Asians - who can't understand English. That is why I will only be using Draft2Digital in the future.  D2D is always expanding their range. I may not see the benefit, but what works for some doesn't work for all. 

Another star has faded :(

The Starman joins the stars. 

It is sad to read of David Bowie's death. He wasn't only a great singer, but a marvellous actor; I will always remember his role in

One of his less well-known projects was an album I came across in Germany called Baal Baal is a concept album based on the plays by German composer Bertholt Brecht

Empire's Wraith

New Scifi coming this year
Walking with the ghosts

This extract is from a new story I have started. 

Walking with the ghosts
     Dave Cooper, ex-guardsman, walked through the empty hulk of the hunter/destroyer "Empires' Wraith," and thought. Is it true, can a ship impose its personality on the crew? A few months ago, if you'd asked me, I would have said no. But, after only a few days on here, things happened which made me think. Did she want us dead?

     Dave grew up in the days after the fall of the Baalite Empire. For the people on Baal life had become intolerable; they had become refugees on their planet. It wasn't only the victorious Commonwealth of Frieland troops who imprisoned the people; the earth itself appeared to have risen against them. There were numerous reports of volcanic activity – unheard of in recent times – and the Ferrnix at the core of the planet had become destabilised and started to fill the air with poisonous gases. Much of the planet got covered in ash, and debris; the land was so polluted it couldn't be used again for at least twenty years. 

     It was under these conditions that young David Cooper began his life on the run. Always one step ahead of the law. Two steps from service in the Army; fighting a futile last stand on the outer edges of a deserted planet, in a far off quadrant of the galaxy. The food was unattainable for the survivors on Baal. The prices were pushed so high by the governing bodies of the Commonwealth; very few Baalites could afford more than a meal or two a week.

      Forced to fend for themselves, Dave and some friends fled to the lands beyond the Sulphur plains. Their goal was to reach a town called Gertoria. They hoped to join a resistance group heading off the world. Gertoria was a three-day march, but the men thought it was better to go there than stay home and be forced to work like mules. The volatile Fermix caused the super-heated Sulphur to rise through the pocked ground, this made walking both hard, and tiring. The men had to travel by the lights of the burning cities during the night, travel by day was too dangerous with the heat, and gases. Moving at night was the only way to get passed the bands of Frieland renegades, these troops hunted down and killed anyone found outside the control of central command. Their remit was simple – shoot to kill, no questions asked. The group were always looking over their shoulders, knowing any sighting would be their last. With this in mind, they were forced to travel by the light of the burning cities at night.

      The endless plains stretched out before them as the men set off on a journey they hoped would lead to a  new life. They never expected to find what lay ahead. It wasn't the fighting they were to do which worried them, but not knowing what they were to fight.  The first night's travel was the hardest, the men were required to get used to walking in a mix of half light, and shadows cast by the raging fires behind them. 

       Timmy Crossman took a look over his shoulder as they reached a peak and said "I don't suppose we'll be going back, Dave." 
      Dave glanced at where Timmy was staring and replied "Not unless you want to die of hunger, picking up leftovers. I'd rather die out here, trying to reach Gertoria, than back there waiting to starve to death." 
     The third member of the group was Reggie Connors. He was usually a shy man but respected for his thinking. Reggie stood still, taking in all the sights and  sounds of the night; as he turned to face Dave, he called out, "Dive for cover!"
     Without thinking the three friends plunged headlong into a ditch and not before time. Overhead a jet of Sulphur ignited in the air, sending molten sparks everywhere. One touch from the Sulphur and you'd burn for days. 
        The jets of molten Sulphur had continued for a long time before Timmy chanced a glance over the top of the ditch. As he peered over the top, he squinted through the hazy light and said, "I know it's a hell of a risk, and we could burn to death. I think we should try to make a run for cover when the next interval comes. We'll need to make a run for cover, and this may be our last chance."   

      Dave rolled over and felt something squish under the sodden remains of his boots. He looked down to see the half-shredded body of a member of the 7th Baalite Guard. The once great band of soldiers were now fighting a desperate rearguard action, on their home world and against an enemy far superior in manpower, and weapons. "Come on, grab some gear, guys!" he called above the din of the jets of Sulphur, "It ain't much, but a lot better than what we had back home."

      Hurriedly the men donned the torn and bloodied uniforms of the dead soldiers. When you have nothing, anything is an improvement. Dave slowly raised his head above the edge. As he gazed over the upper rim of the ditch and into the distance, he saw another ditch. "I can see a ditch to our left; it's about 200 metres away. The way I see it, we've no choice. As Timmy said, the next interval we take our chances, or we'll rot here."
        In his own, inimitable way, Reggie said, "When you put it that way, Dave, how can we refuse," then he gave a laugh and coughed out some blood. He looked at the blood on his hands and said, "Well now I've got my blood on here, it feels more comfortable wearing the uniform." 

      Timmy looked at Dave; Dave glanced at Reggie. Nobody wanted to say what they were thinking. The constant inhalation of the fumes had destroyed Reggie's lungs; he didn't have long to go. Reggie broke the palpable silence when he said, "Promise me one thing."
        Dave inquired, "You know we'd do anything we can for you, Reggie." 

       Reggie coughed a big glob of blood and fluids, then asked, "Take me to see Gertoria. If all I can do is see the city, I'll die happy. After that, the two of you join the fight, don't worry about old Reggie, and never look back. My spirit will be with you, if not my body."

 Don't forget to check the other free samples in

Sunday, 10 January 2016

Killer's hill

Psycho horror
Project Ghostwrite 3 

The third installment of the series for my friend in Norway is about a group of teenagers who get trapped in a disused sanatorium.

This story combines two stories I wrote over three years ago.

 Part of the story is based on a real tragedy in Bristol.

New release

Akuji - Lord of the Underworld 
African terror
The second short story of the week is Akuji The story is based mainly in Africa and follows an explorer on his search for his lost uncle. On his return, he finds that distance is no barrier from the night terrors.

This is a sequel to the popular Did we see him?