Tuesday, 31 March 2015

The Wichenford Court Murder - Chapter Three

Book Title: The Winchenford Court Murder
Genre: Crime Detective Mystery
Author: Julius Falconer

After secondary school, which he had enjoyed, Gibson Buckenham attended the London School of Business and Finance for a three-year ACCA qualification. Armed with this, he had returned to his home county to start work as an accounting technician with the county council. After five years he had graduated to the post of finance officer, with responsibilities that included the payroll, budgets and financial systems of the council. Now in his forties, he could congratulate himself on being one of the council’s finance managers, with oversight of personnel, efficiency and savings, financial processes, legal requirements and so forth. He was a person of considerable standing locally, although quite unknown to the public at large. During his first years of work at Worcester, he had made the acquaintance of Catherine Warbeck, three years his junior, who, after an extensive courtship, had agreed to be his wife. She worked as a hair-stylist and beautician for ‘Hairs Something New’ in The Cross, Worcester - facials, manicure, waxing, massage, make-up, eyelash extensions: a bit of everything to make the modern woman elegant, attractive and feeling good about herself. She argued that modern beauty treatments were the logical development of the (perhaps) less sophisticated techniques practised by that all-time siren Cleopatra, who, if ancient sources are to be believed, bathed in asses’ milk and honey, used sea salt as a cleansing agent, rubbed in a cream compounded of olive oil and lime to tone up her skin and, as a final touch, dabbed on myrrh oil or frankincense oil – or both - to create the ultimate and irresistible fragrance.

Friday, 27 March 2015

Alles Fur Deutschland: "Recon"

Alles Fur Deutschland | Wartime Historical - World War 2
by Karl Brockmann

The rain continues to fall just as it has done for the last three days. Small ripples chase each other across the puddles as each drop falls from the night sky. We pull our collars up a little higher hoping against all odds to stop the water from finding a way in to soak our bodies. The only blessing is with this heavy low cloud the enemy aircraft have been forced to stay on the ground which has given us some relief from their constant attention inflicting heavy losses upon us the moment we try to move any troops or vehicles during daylight hours.
A hundred or so yards from where we lay hidden within the trees, two broken T34s light up the night skies with hungry flames licking around the destroyed tanks, both had ventured too close to our positions a few hours earlier. These lumbering beasts had disturbed us whilst we were preparing to set off into the night. Within moments of them being spotted two of our young Grenadiers Burgdorf and Schlieben were dispatched to stop the Russians before they could go any further. As they halted at the crossroads, the tank commanders checked their maps and argued about which direction to go. In the end this was academic as both tank crews had reached the end of the road.

Tuesday, 24 March 2015

Short Stories Volume One - Change of a Lifetime

Book Title: Short Stories Volume One
Genre: Fiction: Short Stories
Author: Neal James

They just didn’t get on. It just seemed to be that way with brothers and sisters. From early childhood there were always arguments between them, and usually when either mum or dad stepped in it would result in one of them being either forced to apologise or lose some privilege or other. It was worse now. Since the car crash which deprived them of their parents, Julia’s brother Jack had seemed to make it his aim in life to cause as many problems as possible for her. He had always been a spendthrift, and when dad left control of the family printing business to her, she threw herself into the job with a passion.
A university degree in English together with five years spent under her father’s expert tuition in the ways of the printing world had given her a sound basis for moving the Derby firm onwards, and she had succeeded remarkably well in a short time. This went down like a dose of the flu with Jack. Despite her father’s attempts to bring them both into the business, he had done nothing himself to earn any share of the company’s success. Mum and dad had made financial provision for him in their wills, but after the fatal accident which ended their lives, Jack had blown his portion in a very short time.

Friday, 20 March 2015

A Death Twice Avenged - Two

A Death Twice Avenged | Crime Detective Mystery
by Julius Falconer

The little girl sitting on the stairs in her night-clothes heard the voices raised in anger. The shouting had woken her, and she had crept out of bed, frightened and uncertain. She dared not descend the staircase but sat trembling at the top, unable to return to bed. She could see light streaming through the living-room door into the hall, and the familiar furniture – the hall-stand, a telephone-stool, a wooden settle containing the croquet set - reassured her that this was not a nightmare; and she recognised her father’s voice.
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ she heard her father saying. ‘Have some sense, man, before you say something stupid.  I’m not going in with you, and that’s final. I can’t afford it, for a start, and I think your scheme’s risky.  You can play for high stakes, if you like, but I’ve got a kid to consider, and I’m not going to put my hard-earned money where I might lose the lot.’

Tuesday, 17 March 2015

Iron Dogs - Chapter Three

Book Title: Iron Dogs
Genre: Fiction: Thriller / Suspence
Author: Cliff Robertson 

…When the officers had taken Peterson back to his boat he had sworn to himself that he would stay on board until the situation had been sorted out one way or another. He did not believe the authorities in Ottawa would allow him to be prosecuted but they would most likely move him away from St Johns. He needed a change anyway and he needed to sort his drinking problem out. He was sick of being in constant trouble but it had got to be a habit that was hard to kick.
He had meant it about staying on the boat when he had first come back aboard but after four days and nights of being cooped up he was getting itchy feet. The boat was beginning to feel like a prison cell. Finally giving in to temptation he slipped off the boat on the evening of the fifth day as soon as it was dark. He convinced himself that he only wanted to stretch his legs. There was a wooded pontoon along the length of the mooring measuring about seventy metres. It gave access from the quayside to the boats. He stepped it out several times back and forth along the length of the pontoon. It was a warm evening and he was beginning to feel better already. There was no harm in doing this surely? It was unrealistic of them to expect him to stay on board, and unreasonable. If he had been living in a house with a big garden to wander around in he could have understood it but a boat? How could anybody stay on a boat twenty-four hours a day without going mad? It was their fault; they had forced him to break their stupid rules.

Friday, 13 March 2015

The Alkan Murder - Chapter Two

Book Title: The Alkan Murder
Genre: FICTION/Crime Detective Mystery
Author: Julius Falconer

Brenda and Darren first met one morning at the very start of the holidays. Brenda was idly leaning out of her bedroom window in her night-dress, admiring the fresh sun as it rose ever higher into a blue sky, when her eye was attracted by movement in the garden. Focussing, she spied a well-built man with his back to her, cutting roses, exhibiting not at all the shape or stance of old Martin. Curiosity obliged her to keep staring as the man worked his way very slowly down the short row of roses, still with his back to her, cutting the branches down to the lowest bud and discarding the detritus on the path behind him. At the end of the row, he straightened up, slipped his secateurs into the pocket of his jacket and turned to survey the path. The white of Brenda’s night-clothes caught his eye, and he looked up at her window. She ducked out of sight,

Friday, 6 March 2015

Call Me Valentine 1930 - 1932

Title: Call Me Valentine
Book Genre: Biography / History
Author: Derek Rosser

I made my first appearance on this planet on St Valentine’s Day of the year 1930. The event was apparently heard by all of the staff and patients in the hospital where I was born. The nurses, according to my mum, suggested that, in view of the date, I should be named ‘Valentine’. It was only the common sense displayed by my father that saved me from that ignominious fate. It is almost half a century since he departed this mortal coil but I shall remain grateful to him until my dying day, My mother spent the next ten years explaining to anyone that would listen that she had ‘Gone through Hell’ and did not intend to repeat the experience. Thus it was that I was doomed to be an ‘only child’. Do not let anyone tell you that an ‘only child’ is spoiled. Nothing could be further from the truth. My father, in his determination to ensure that I was NOT spoiled, showed a severe side. Not, you understand, that he was cruel. He simply wanted me to know that ‘nonsense’ would not be tolerated.

Tuesday, 3 March 2015

"I felt so sorry for this book and the author, as it is currently sitting without a review..."

"I was lent this book by a friend, and was a little concerned as to whether I would enjoy it. It is not my usual type of book. I mostly read crime/murder mysteries. But I was drawn to this book because of it's location. It is set in part of South Staffordshire that I know very well. It tells the true story of the experience of a 9 year old boy who is evacuated from Birmingham during the second world war to the countryside. I was amazed by the courage of the little boy, even when facing adversity, and stuck in a terrible hospital/nursing home for a long time, he never lost his positive spirit, I can definitely say that I would not have coped so well in such miserable circumstances. This boy came from a modern home in the city of Birmingham to live in a very primitive house in the countryside in totally different surroundings.