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Sorry about this,
Joni’s Floral Tights
Joni’s floral tights, while away the nights,
Living in her darkest dreams, giving her the frights,
Joni’s floral tights, make her mind go numb,
Climb up her long legs, freeze her lips to dumb,
Joni’s floral tights, penetrate her brain,
See her in the sad-mirror? Crying once again?
For the Lonely Young
Julia, an innocent heathen, is persecuted as a witch. War widow Helen leads a solitary life in the countryside - until her life is transformed by the arrival of a young soldier. Linda, a schoolgirl, develops a teenage crush on her demented Chemistry teacher: a story with an explosive ending. Georgie, a promiscuous Australian backpacker, meets a virgin at a drug-ridden party - they lose all self-control. Marie paints snowdrops with her mouth. A homicidal religious maniac shelters homeless young men in her bedsit. Louys tells you the real reason why she walked away from her marriage. A delightful holiday romance ends with an astonishing twist in the siren’s tail. Evie, an adulterous woman, and Scott, her fiancé, rediscover love as they struggle to cope with terminal cancer. Pearl, a Clone, escapes from a secret research laboratory. First, she has to kill her human toy. Virginia, a deranged wife, tries to kill her ailing husband with a garden spade. Come on wives, own up! Allen, seeking sex, love, and reconciliation with Antonia, is haunted by his dead bride, Ruth. Allure: the power an attractive woman exerts over a young man. A woman suffers from incurable bristling. Simon loves art, animals, Lizzie, and Joely. Taylin stuns mourners at a funeral with her highly personal protest. Suzie takes Jacqui to the brink in their intensely erotic clandestine encounter.
Basque – Daring Love Stories
rules are there to be broken:
Toadstools from my back lawn (the original book cover - linked to Strange Taste). They were banned by Facebook for being too suggestive! I suppose they are a bit risqué - these days!!
The Bomb Hole near Moreton in Essex (England!) where Joely asked Simon if she could wild swim, too. Basque from Basque - Love Stories. Exclusive audio extract featuring Ruth Pownall at: www.isittodayhjfurl.com
Basque – love, as you have never read it before:
Ellis reached the path first, scanning the trees to his left, staring up at the top of the wall; no tell-tale glint of metal in the sunlight, no insurgent lurking in the shadows. Now, where was the insurgent? Hiding in one of the dilapidated farm buildings? Skulking in the clump of trees? He glanced back at the gallery of anxious faces: Cook, Watts, Scully, Hart, Parker, McKay. All of them breathing hard, scanning the wall, guns at the ready. Intent on their survival...
A tall, robed figure ghosted out of the wall, armed with a semi-automatic machine gun.
Ellis radioed, ‘McKay! Insurgent! Behind you!’
A wartime airman is fated by a mysterious wartime dancer. The surprise builds up in Sarah like a white rabbit about to burst out of a magician’s hat. Dancers, Why? Is It Today? LIVE! featuring sensational Linnea Sage:
US Flying Fortress nose art:
‘You were staring at my freckles, weren’t you? Like other men do. Beautiful, aren’t they?’
‘In case you were wondering, they go on forever,’ she sighed wearily, ‘like me.’
'Would you like to live forever?
Blue Infinity, Red Heart
Is It Today?
LIVE! featuring astonishing Linnea Sage:
Is It Today? Out Now on Amazon:
www.isittodayhjfurl.com - stories you can visualize, read and listen to, all at the same time, featuring sensational actors Ruth Pownall, Linnea Sage & Cherry Pie. #scifi #romancereads #fantasy #Dark #steamy #quirky #erotic #horror #audiobooks #visualnovel #stories
NEW Audiovisual Stories for Autumn:
I write many of my characters from online images, partly because they support the publication of my stories on the website, mainly because images provide me with a visual starting point, from which to create my characters, and I love characters. To me, character is all. From time to time, I come across an image that, I feel, more closely represents a character - and change it. This is the case with poor Evie from Evie's Downfall...
Evie, an adulterous woman, and Scott, her gadget-obsessed fiancé, rediscover love as they struggle to cope with her terminal breast cancer. Mia, her sister, tries to get Scott to accept the inevitable.
This is how I see Evie now:
I belong to The Mulberry Writers, a small, informal group of writers who meet every Thursday morning to read out their work. This week I read Snowdrops, the moving story of Marie, a limb- deficient since birth as a result of Maman, her Parisian mother, taking thalidomide in 1960. This was without a doubt my most emotional reading - I have never been so teary when reading live.
Snowdrops is one of the love stories in Basque:
Night descends on Audley End, as James Blunt sings Beautiful. The crowd, including me and the love of my life switch on their mobiles and the scene is lit by a thousand stars! This was the scene last night when we sat on camping chairs with our hampers - a long way from the stage. The inimitable Craig Charles (BBC Radio 2 DJ) Soul Club came onstage and we were up and dancing. James Blunt was incredible, so down-to-earth, so un-celeb, so at one with us all - a night of magic.
Music has always inspired my stories - from Hawkwind to Arcade Fire. Last night I found fresh inspiration:
I yell, ‘Who is Dr Cheung?!’
By way of a reply, Marnie produces a tatty card from the pocket of her faded drainpipe jeans:
Alice Cheung, MD
Experimental Birth Consultant
The Karena Institute for Designer Babies
'The Karena Institute! Where’s that for heaven’s sake?!’
‘It’s in Karena, where do you think it is?’
'Mm, Karena, in Garth.’
‘Garth? Where’s Garth when it’s at home?’
‘Near Blinsk in Manchuria.’
Defeated, I change tack,
‘How much is this costing me, Marnie?!’
‘Dex,’ she says firmly, ‘My treatment isn’t costing you a penny. How could you possibly afford it on furlough? I’m paying for Cheung, the Institute, Neutrazine, out of my modelling earnings.
Marnie's Child LIVE! featuring unbelievable Ruth Pownall only at:
Lana hasn’t changed at all since I initiated the affair. She is still the same woman I left: gentle, refined, sophisticated, charming, and beautiful. She has the vitality and physique of a woman half her age....
‘Prego! Leave! Now! Prego! Prego! Leave me! Now! Before I kill you for your blood!’ – Maria, Young at Heart. Is it Today? LIVE featuring sensational Linnea Sage:
Some boys love football. Other boys love girls. Darryl Hatchett loved crabs. He felt an empathy with them. Locked in their shells. Scuttling off to hide under seaweed-strewn rocks at the first sign of danger. Appearing from nowhere to nip and pinch the toes of innocent rock pool paddlers with their nasty pincers. Darryl was fascinated by them, ate them up as pink crab paste on buttered wholemeal toast for breakfast. Dined out on crab and crayfish cocktail at pub lunches across Essex, when there were pubs. When there were crabs, washing around the club pontoons on the murky estuarial Crouch.
He used to ‘crab’ as a boy. In those days, every Friday evening from March to October, Ted drove May, his fair, rosy-faced wife and their only child to the caravan park beside the Crouch. They set-off early to beat the rush hour traffic, stopping off at the Smuggler’s Retreat for a beer shandy and crisps en route, returning home on Sunday night. Friday night meant fish and chips at sunset! The Hatchetts always ate at sunset.
After supper, Ted, May and Darryl stood outside their clapped-out caravan and stared into the starry night sky, wishing they could afford a boat to navigate by starlight. Then, like crabs, the poor family retired to their shells. Darryl hugged himself to sleep in his damp bunk bed, and dreamed of catching crabs the next morning.
The next morning, it was up with the lark, a chilly-cold shower or cat’s lick, crab paste on toast, and a milky cup of tea. Then it was off to the sea wall to watch the lucky boys and girls launch their Cadets, mummies and daddies pushing their little darlings off the pontoon in their Oppies.
Only when the coast was clear, when the parents had ventured into the clubhouse for breakfast, did Ted, May and Darryl descend the pontoon, armed with carrier bags of beef bones wrapped in bacon and plastic pails, sit down, and catch crabs. Darryl always sat with May because she loved him dearly and wrapped her warm arm round his shivery shoulders to stay the chilly sea breeze. While Ted filled up the pails with brackish water and unravelled the bones-on-strings.
They seldom caught more than seven crabs between them. Darryl’s jobs were to shake May’s crabs off her bone into the pail and gently pour the clawless, broken crabs into their safe haven before they plodded back to the caravan to play cards, drink squash, and eat lots of crab crisps.
At first, the sailors, eating breakfast on their sunny clubhouse terrace, looked down on the family as if they were miscreants trespassing on their pontoon in their shabby tee-shirts, grubby shorts and sandals. But after a while they started to feel sorry for them. They took them into their hearts.
Darryl’s proudest memory was helping Ted bacon-up butcher’s bones for the children’s annual crabbing contest in August. The afternoon before the big day, Ted spread all the bones out in an orderly fashion on the freshly-mown grass. May tied on cheap bacon bits from the kindly butcher. Darryl drew out the strings like kite strings, nice and straight.
Do you believe in black magic?
As soon as the strings were drawn, the sky turned grey, dark clouds rolled over, and it poured. He was drenched, soaked to the skin. As May took off his wet things, and towelled her little boy dry, Darryl imagined the crabs lying in the mud, waiting for the happy children to catch them in the morning, and wished he could play. He was five-years old at the time…
A Cambridge University student broke open a door of a plane and jumped to his death after overpowering a fellow passenger while in mid-air, it is claimed. Darryl Hatchett, 19, a redhead with curly hair, fell from a Cessna light aircraft as he travelled back from a remote lodge where he was studying crabs as part of his natural science degree.
The tragic incident happened 15 minutes after the plane took off from the remote Analalava region in northern Madagascar on July 25th.
Darryl is understood to have fought off British tourist May Hatchett before plunging 3,600 feet into the Madagascar savanna below, the newspaper reported. The pilot, Joe, also grappled with Darryl's leg and manoeuvred the plane from side to side in a desperate bid to prevent him from flinging himself from the tiny aircraft. Both eventually lost grip of Darryl after becoming exhausted in the life and death struggle. Authorities have launched a major operation to locate his whereabouts, but have not yet been able to recover his body.
Darryl was studying the rare red pin head crab on the grey sandy beach in Madagascar. It is believed that this tiny crab can enter the human eye and blind its victim, causing hysteria. Police officers investigating his death have recreated events on board the fateful flight after taking statements from the tourist and the pilot, Pierrot Rabetsitonta.
Local police chief, Biclair Henri Razafinrandriafsimaniry, said: ‘The Cessna C168 aircraft was taking off from Anjajavy with three people aboard, including Mrs Hatchett the tourist, Darryl and the pilot, Pierrot Rabetsitonta,’ adding that Police have recreated the incident but not found his body, ‘After 10 minutes of flight, Darryl undid his seatbelt, unlocked the right door of the plane, and tried to get out. Mrs Hatchett fought for five minutes trying to hold him, but when she was exhausted and out of breath, she let him go.’
Investigators have interviewed the staff, Irene Boto and Imerina Zafy, and scientific research team leader, Professor Tovonanahary Andrianantoandro, at the beach hut where he was staying.
Razafinrandriafsimaniry added that they read through his documents and he may have been suffering from stress or mental health issues related to his obsession with the red pin head crab.
He added that police were working under the assumption that it was an intentional fall and said that they are working with British authorities to establish the exact circumstances surrounding his death.
Earlier today, Darryl’s family paid tribute to the talented Cambridge student. In a statement released by the Foreign and Commonwealth Office, they said:
‘Our son Darryl was a bright, independent young man, who was loved and admired by all those that knew him. He was always so kind and supportive to his family and friends, which resulted in him having a very special connection with a wide network of people from all walks of his life, who we know will miss him dearly.’
‘Darryl grasped every opportunity that was offered to him with enthusiasm and a sense of adventure, always seeking to extend his knowledge and experience of crabs in the best ways possible. He was particularly excited to be embarking on the next stage of his education, on an internship in Madagascar complimenting his studies in Natural Sciences.
His family later paid tribute to the teenager again:
‘Darryl was also a talented sailor, a respected member of the Crouch sailing fraternity, and he embraced the active side of his talents with joy and commitment. His thirst for discovering more of the world of crabs ensured that he made the most of every second of his action-packed young life. We are heartbroken at the loss of our wonderful, beautiful son, who lit up every pontoon he walked onto, and made the little children smile, just by being there...’
Neither of them felt much like playing tennis anymore. Yearning intensely for one another, they left the court and walked hand-in-hand across the playing field, along a red earth path, until they reached their hidey-hole-in-the-hedge.
The sweethearts scrambled through the gap into a leafy glade. A lonely, secret, place where sunbeams danced on their faces. They lay in the lush, long grass watching a skylark beat its way across the cloudless sky. The sun was at its zenith, its hot rays seared their skin. Dan took off his vest. Lin gently stroked his hairy chest.
‘I love you, Dan,’ she said, dreamily, ‘You’re my world.’
- Our Secret Place LIVE! featuring astonishing Linnea Sage - from Is It Today? Fantasies:
India! Canada! Mexico!
In 2017, one hundred and sixteen founders of robotics and AI companies signed a petition calling for an outright ban on killer robots and lethal autonomous weapons, claiming the use of such weapons crossed a moral red line. Today the International Red Cross Committee called for controls to be agreed to prevent the proliferation of lethal autonomous weapons capable of killing us without human supervision. Sound familiar?
I wrote Apocalypse in 2017. When will humanity become civilized?
A dystopian city divided by cruel apartheid into purists and undesirables faces annihilation by robotic drones. Maria tells tales, informing the authorities of the whereabouts of undesirables, sending them to certain death. Widowed by warfare, she must fight to save herself and her children, Kiran and Keira, as the bombs fall and the firestorm spreads through the city. Will she survive the holocaust, who will help her, and if she survives, will she atone?
Apocalypse, despite the disturbing nature of the story, is my most read, liked and critically-acclaimed posting since I began featuring stories online in March 2019. The story has been described as beautiful by a critic in Cameroon for the way it confronts racial discrimination while providing hope for the future through reconciliation and love.
Apocalypse from Is It Today? - LIVE featuring astonishing Linnea Sage.
Contains harrowing scenes.
1972: An intimate, erotic, portrait of 36 hours in the lives of two teenage lovers, their backgrounds, the reasons for their infatuation, th...