Classics Without All the Class discussion

If you're an author or blogger and have your work to promote, please rave about it here. We love to help out other CWAtCers. However, we don't want to spam everyone either so please keep your self-promotion to this folder. Thanks!

anybody? lolol

Hi, I just published my first book of poetry. It is available on Amazon, or right from my site.

http://www.johndelgiudice.com/

For those who are interested in literary fiction, this is author Leonard Seet's book . It is available on Amazon. Thanks.

Hello everybody,

My name is Nina,and I am promoting my very first published children's book titled, Little Effie's Book Of Poetry.

Authentically written in poetic form,Little Effie's Book Of Poetry tells of a young, little girl named Effie through her mother's point of view. Each poem tells of little Effie and her family,and of course her royal cat Miss Whiskers. Through the smiles and the tears,little Effie will touch the hearts of all who read her story.

Click on the link here to check it out: http://www.amazon.com/Little-Effies-B...

(Pssst...it has a cute cover too) c:

Hi everyone, I recently e-published my first book, "Olbers' Paradox: A Book of Short Stories."

You can find out more about the book (including links to its page on Amazon and BarnesandNoble.com) on my website/blog at http://joshuakurtz.wordpress.com.

You know, if you're into classics, there is no better book than the Bible - written by me! http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/12...

:)

Tome wrote: "You know, if you're into classics, there is no better book than the Bible - written by me! http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/12...

:)"


I had to make sure I read that right! Nice job, Tome!

I'm not selling anything, but I do run a small book club on Facebook. We don't read a title every month, we just tend to post our current reads and recommendations. A few of us are tracking our reads for 2013 and this month is non fiction month so I'm featuring a non fiction title everyday this month. There will also be Banned Books Week in September and Dystopian Literature Month in December. If anyone wants to join, we are a small community, but we are all lovers of reading!
:)

https://www.facebook.com/groups/14390...

LaLaLa Laura wrote: "I had to make sure I read that right! ..."

Everyone knows that the really good bible has a lobster made out of stone on the cover!

FREE serial killer thriller!

Ever wondered what the world looks like through the eyes of a serial killer? If so, then check out KILLING MATT COOPER today for FREE using the info below:

Coupon code for free download: EY66T (Valid until 9/15/2013)
Link to book: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view...

Hello Everyone,
I have a book coming out August 30, The LITClub. It is all about reading the classics with your friends and having a really good time. It's for all ages.
It's my first book. It would be so awesome if you would help me spread the word, that is if you watch the trailer or read the blurb and think it's something you want to get behind and share with your friends. If you have 2 minutes, watch the trailer. Then listed below the trailer are various ways you can win prizes.

Here's the trailer:
http://youtu.be/sqIHjKKCNwI

There are 4 ways you can win a prize.
1. On Goodreads, follow this link and scroll midway down and click the button to enter. Then put The LITClub on your TBR list and tell your friends about the give way. This give away ends August 29. 5 autographed copies will be given way. http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/18...

2. The Book Trailer Contest is another way you can win a prize. This contest ends August 4. You can read about it here. http://www.alident.org/2013/07/the-li...

3. This giveaway is for people who get a kick out of spreading the good news about good-reads. http://www.alident.org/2013/07/step-i...

4. The LITClub Book Give Away, Trivia Question Contest will begin August 5th. Each Monday August 5, 12, 19 and 26 a trivia question will be posted. The winner receives a free book. You will find those posts at http://www.alident.org

Please let me know what you think and if I can help any one out, let me know.

Hi, Im Ashleigh and Im in the process of writing my first book, and would love some feedback on my prologue so far!!!
Thanks :)

Imagine a Story More Absurd than Office Space...and You're Still Not Even Close

Sex, drugs, rock'n'roll...we're talking about a hedonistic music festival, right? Nope, not according to the narrator of this tale. Instead, we're talking about an IT department, in the absurd (yet somewhat epic) story about a software project that was doomed to succeed.



http://www.amazon.com/Blowing-Bridge-...

'When Katherine shared her experiences with friends, she often talked of her ‘transformation’ – how she had emerged from hospital a different person from the life-loving twenty-six year old who was rushed there after the crash.
“I’m a sort of butterfly in reverse. I went back to my chrysalis and came out as a bug.”'

The Butterfly Man is not just a story of one woman's courage when injury steals her career and her marriage, it is a fast-moving suspense thriller. Katherine, forced to leave the glamour of her West London life discovers a new career in a bleak northern landscape. But the work is not all it seems and her efforts are doomed to failure, until she discovers a decrepit butterfly farm and a man named Ben..

I would love to share with you the link to my book. I'm trying to help those who were bullied. It is loosely based on my high school bullying experiences.(the protagonist is also a HUGE alcoholic, and though upsetting definitely has some humor. Hope you enjoy!
*warning it is disturbing

http://www.amazon.com/Living-Dog-Year...

To all lovers of the vampire genre, Deluded Blood:

http://www.amazon.com/Deluded-Blood-J...

Pieces: A Life in Eight Movements and a Prelude. WiDo Publishing. Available at Amazon.com, CeleryTree.com or your own bookstore.
http://www.amazon.com/Pieces-Life-Eig...

Have a look at my latest blog about a living symbol in Zanzibar:
http://johnvondaler.blogspot.dk/2014/...John von DalerPieces: A Life in Eight Movements and a Prelude

Pieces: A Life in Eight Movements and a Prelude
Please read my blog about a little dream: http://johnvondaler.blogspot.dk/2014/...

Karena wrote: "If you're an author or blogger and have your work to promote, please rave about it here. We love to help out other CWAtCers. However, we don't want to spam everyone either so please keep your self-..."

Karena, I just realized that you started this thread, and yet you've not shared your blog on it. Tsk, tsk.

Shanea wrote: "Karena wrote: "If you're an author or blogger and have your work to promote, please rave about it here. We love to help out other CWAtCers. However, we don't want to spam everyone either so please ..."

Ah, yeah I didn't want to take advantage of my mod privileges at the time. Well the one we started when I was a mod is no more, but I now have a Tumblr. :)


http://literaryloot.tumblr.com

I'm working on some ideas for a different blog on wordpress, but we'll see. :)

Hi Everyone Aspiring Author who happens to be a avid reader addict of romance and humor genre here. :)

So I woke up one night hoped on my laptop poured a few glasses of wine and there were so many thoughts in my head on being single & on how come "single people should seek therapy." Well I was inspired to write a short book with intent to make people laugh and have a happy out look on being single.

It's a raunchy and outrageous guide to say the least.
I would greatly appreciate thoughts on it so here it is: http://www.amazon.com/SIngle-Therapy-...

Recently published a fiction novel 'The Seller of Beliefs'. A wonderfully crafted fable, peppered with spice and humour, The Seller of Beliefs is an inspiring read for the young at heart of all ages – to reclaim their zest for life.

For more info, please visit - www.thesellerofbeliefs.in or https://www.facebook.com/TrishalaDShah

You can find this book on amazon.in or crossword.in or infibeam.com or bookadda.com or landmarkonthenet.com or uread.com. Available also on Kindle and Googleplay. Soon to be listed on other websites and e-book mediums.

Hope you enjoy the read! Your feedback is invaluable to me. Thank you!

Hi there – Let me know if you’d like to review our conspiracy thriller The Ninth Orphan (The Orphan Trilogy, #1) and I’ll email a pdf of the novel to you.



The storyline:
An orphan grows up to become an assassin for a highly secretive organization. When he tries to break free and live a normal life, he is hunted by his mentor and father figure, and by a female orphan he spent his childhood with. On the run, the mysterious man's life becomes entwined with his beautiful French-African hostage and a shocking past riddled with the darkest of conspiracies is revealed.

The Amazon link is: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B0056I4FKC

If reading/reviewing THE NINTH ORPHAN appeals, advise me of your email address and I’ll forward a copy immediately. Thanks!

Lance Morcan
sterlinggatebooks@gmail.com

The failure of capitalism (as you call it) is because capitalism isn't allowed to work. Massive bank bailouts, constant government involvement with failed institutions that should be buried, Solyandra-like created entities that are government subsidized--this isn't capitalism, it's chrony capitalism that has been invaded by the virus of socialism...So when you are speaking about Capitalism, which one are you speaking about? Because capitalism is not the latter.

I got a hold of the galley of this book and it was the best thriller I have read in years. There is an amazing secret world for the black market for organs that I knew nothing about and the protagonist in this novel explains it all, while racing around the globe trying to prevent a murder and trying to make up for his own sins. Incredible book. Mark it "to read" right now. The Organ Broker

Hi, I'm a New Zealand writer and I wrote a book which is a mashup of Sherlock Holmes and Pride and Prejudice. The premise is that Mrs Bennet has been killing off the prettiest young ladies in Hertfordshire so that her own daughters might have a better chance of snaring a husband. The arrival of the illustrious gentleman detective Sherlock Darcy in the neighbourhood causes complications for more than just Mrs Bennet, as Elizabeth's own investigations into the series of suspicious deaths is put under great detective's scrutiny.

The book launch is in a week or two (in Paraparaumu, New Zealand), but it's already available on Amazon if you want to check it out :-)

Murder and Matchmaking by Debbie Cowens

http://www.amazon.com/Murder-Matchmak...

There's a Giveaway on GoodReads now for Murder and Matchmaking for anyone who is interested:

https://www.goodreads.com/giveaway/sh...

My literary dark comedy HOW TO SEW PIECES OF CLOUD TOGETHER is on offer for £0.99 up to the 13th of September.
http://www.amazon.com/How-sew-pieces-...

In a villa of a secret remote location a prison experiment takes place. The five highly intelligent convicts are only guarded by their implanted microchips and a red line that frames the villa and triggers lethal electrocution. Still, not one of them would try to cease their imprisonment anyway and although they hate each other they remain attached to their leader Dr James Hoffman, an incurably romantic Intellectual. When dysfunctional Malcolm Cherry and Rita Hopper from the Prison Inspectorate arrive for an unannounced visit they face mass hostility, on top of their own problems. Gentle Malcolm is going through a major crisis and Rita a powerful, sexually frustrated woman tries desperately to hold him up. The effects of mixing this crowd together turns out to be electrifying in funny and tragic ways.

For the naughty Jane Austen fans!
Bringing Beauty To The Blush
Free Today on Kindle -Sunday October 25, 2015
A spanking good Regency historical romance!
Fast, fun and witty, this "cheeky" Regency novelette can be read in under an hour.
Happy Reading!
@Hadley_Ellis

Hello all!

I would greatly appreciate it if you would download and review my first installment in my Transcendental Synergy serial (http://www.transcendentalsynergy.com/).

The first installment is titled Jacob & Maria - The Beginning and it is free till the 27th on Amazon.com (http://www.amazon.com/Jacob-Maria-Beg...).

I am looking forward to reading your reviews! :)

Hello all avid romance book lovers! :)

Romantic Comedy ebook ”Gone with the feelings” is FREE for two more days (29-30 January)!

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B01B0IDSP4

Happy reading! :)



Description:

“Janina is a quick-tempered young woman, and an extremely emotional and romantic person who has tendency to build castles in the air. She never runs out of words, and certainly makes her opinion to be heard as well as seen.
Janina has been running the whole year from bar to bar after the mister right one, however without any success so far. Finally she has had enough of searching for a suitable husband candidate. She decides to take up some totally other entertainment, so she joins Scouts. In the middle of nature with children she would not need to give men a second thought!
This is what Janina decides, but how long can she keep her decision when the broad-shouldered and energetic Troop Leader steps in the picture. He is so funny, witty, self-confident, handsome…, but also so annoying!
When furthermore another man comes to mess up her train of thought, there is no day without feelings surging up. And as Janina happens to be of that type whose feet do not keep on the firm ground the order of the pack of cards is a great mystery even to herself.”

Extract from my book 'Corpalism' - 'The resurrection of Stephanie White
http://www.amazon.co.uk/s/?ie=UTF8&am...
“Let’s de-bunk some of this, shall we? Myth 1– Kings and Queens are divine beings – rubbish. Kings and queens of old were murdering bastards who ruled with a rod of iron. Myth 2 – the rich prosper out of godliness – more rubbish. They gained their wealth by royal patronage and taxing and stealing from the masses. Myth 3 - the poor are poor because they’re depraved – yet more rubbish. They’re poor because of their naivety and childlike belief in, oh yes, Kings and Queens, the Church and the order of things. Finally, Myth 4 - women are evil and deliberately seductive – the biggest nonsense of all. Women are sexually attractive to men because they are the opposite sex to men; it’s not hard to see, is it? It’s the same for every species on the planet, you can see it in any mating ritual on the Discovery channel but this truth has been reversed and buried under the eternal lie fostered upon us by the church. That’s what the bible has achieved and that’s why our society is divided and divided again. That’s why we are never working as one, because religion was designed to divide and rule the masses,” she broke off and looked deliberately round the room, “but the big question is, for what purpose and by whom?”

My collection of short stories SAFE is now available!

http://www.amazon.com/Safe-Selected-S...

Suspense, noir, slow-burn thrillers with some speculative fiction and a little humor. Featuring previously published work and new fiction.

Synopsis for my book Corpalism

http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B007...
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Corpalism-Aru...

Set in a dystopian future; all wealth is in the hands of the Corporations, the 1% whilst the 99% live in economic debt or poverty on sink estates in the North. Terry works for Relocations, his job is to relocate undesirables to these estates. Unfortunately for Terry he is late for work once too often and is himself relocated to a sink. But Terry is not all he seems. Why is he there and who does he really work for?

Meet Sir Phillip Blackmore, head of British Secret Intelligence, a Machiavellian character with plots more devious and unpleasant than even the Prime Minister is allowed to know about.

Delores Grey is a successful singer and the victim of a kidnapping; she has been missing for forty days and forty nights. Before she disappeared she was a flighty superstar who thought little of the world around her, on her return she is much changed, she now cares about things to the extent that she is willing to lecture her interviewers. Why has this change come upon her? Where has she been? Has she in fact been anywhere, could it be that it is all in the mind of Stephanie White and if so, who is Stephanie White?

It's Fancy Dress Night down the Dog n Duck. A group of young friends share a table for the night; Hiawatha, the Lone Ranger, Charlie Chaplin, Pirate, Mr Spock and a transvestite. They ramble through their usual debates and discussions. During the course of the evening their real identities are revealed as well as where they fit in the story.

The Independents are a new force in politics. Free of any lobby group, party bias, or corporate interest, they are determined to avert the looming catastrophe. They are on a headlong collision course with Sir Phillip Blackmore.

Naz and the other young Muslims are hatching a plot to bring home grown terror to an iconic building, one held dear to the hearts of many British people, including some of the would-be terrorists themselves. Will they be able to bring themselves to do it or will the plot be foiled by Blackmore's intelligence network?

Eddies in the Space-Time Continuum is free for the Kindle 12/3-12/5!


https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01B6YBHIW

It is March 30, 2050, Eddie's birthday. Sure, he's got a dead-end job exploiting the victims of the global ocean level rise, but at least he's in love. Everything's dandy. Right? Until he gets killed. So much for Eddie. But, wait! Now it's March 30, 2050 all over again and in a world emotionally scarred by aliens Eddie's a psychologically traumatized drug addict who can't shake the idea that he's just been murdered. Before he knows it, he's dead again. And again. And again. Eddie's trapped in a loop of inescapable awful birthdays. Why? And who is this terrifically violent Viola girl who keeps showing up and making him fall in love with her? And if it's not her, who is behind it all?
Inspired by a Scientific American article detailing the twelve likely scenarios that the world could face by 2050, "Eddies in the Space-Time Continuum" covers all of them through one repeating day in the life of one poor repeating schmuck. Twelve futures. Eddie. Viola. A drowning church. A global psychological crisis. A plague of numbers. Nukes. Robot strippers. Talking pants. Aliens. Other weird stuff. And beneath it all: terror, faith, and love.

Hi all, just putting a plug in for my translation of a book called A New Hamet by Osamu Dazai, a famous Japanese writer. He took the characters and setting from Hamlet and put his own humorous yet sad spin on them. Dazai wrote this book in a "lesedrama" format, which is basically a play that is meant to be read (and not performed). The writing is introspective and focuses on the struggles of a young person trying to fight for integrity in a world of adult pretension.

Check it out if you're interested, and please let me know what you think!
https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/3...

The book 'Uprising' will be FREE on Amazon for Kindle download until Friday 10th March 2017


Amazon .co.uk
https://www.amazon.co.uk/Uprising-Aru...
Amazon.com
https://www.amazon.com/Uprising-Arun-...

Hi

Just to let you know that my book 'Uprising' will be FREE on Amazon for Kindle/PC download from Monday 6th to Friday 10th March 2017. All I ask is that you tell your friends and leave a review.

Set in a dystopian future; all wealth is in the hands of the Corporations, the 1% whilst the 99% live in economic debt or poverty on sink estates in the North. Terry works for Relocations, his job is to relocate undesirables to these estates. Unfortunately for Terry he is late for work once too often and is himself relocated to a sink. But Terry is not all he seems. Why is he there and who does he really work for?

Sample below:

Cramming the last piece of toast into his mouth Terry Jones grabbed his jacket and left his apartment for the office. He’d had the option of a high-rise within walking distance when he was first assigned to Relocations; his reasons for turning it down had seemed sound; cost = astronomical, space = minimal. Now, and not for the first time, he wished he’d taken it. That morning he’d set his alarm earlier than usual in the hopes of beating the rush hour traffic, problem was he never really managed to keep to his schedule (poor time management or lousy schedule?) and he found himself, yet again, bumper to bumper and yet again, late for work.
Brian Olsen made the final adjustments to his tie, jacket and hair before leaving the men’s room and heading to his desk; all the while diligently maintaining an erect 6ft 6in posture, a copy of today’s Times clamped under his right arm, his brief case gripped firmly in his right hand, and as he strode he repeated his mantra over and over in his head ‘today I will excel, today I will exceed all expectations, today I will excel, today I will exceed all expectations….’

Rain Morgan, stared at the free drinks machine for a few moments before selecting a cappuccino with sugar. Her actual name was Rainbow Sunset, her mother having one her odd moments, but she preferred Rain. She was quickly joined by Debby Jenna and Phillippa Djukovic; just time for a quick debrief of Phillippa’s date with Simon Brookes from Finance.
Peter Illyffe, the divisional manager for Relocations 1, left his office and headed for the usual 8:30 briefing in meeting room 3, aka the cupboard due to its lack of size and windows. His staff fell in behind, a well-rehearsed troupe, that is everyone except Terry Jones who was still driving fruitlessly round and round the car park.

The room filled quickly; those lucky enough to get in the door first grabbed a seat at the table, Peter at their head.

“Morning everyone,” he said, to which there were the usual responses of “morning, morning Peter,” a few nods and coughs and a silky “morning, Boss” from Brian, tall even when sitting down. “No Terry, I see?”

This too was greeted by the usual responses, initial silence, then embarrassed coughs or ums…. followed by a clear and unequivocal “he’s not in yet, Boss” from Brian. Peter made a note in the top corner of his meeting notes, as usual.

“Ok, everyone got a copy of today’s agenda?” general nods everywhere, “good, ok – item one then – the recent merger with Alderson’s. As per our meeting yesterday morning I’ve checked up the line and can confirm that Alderson’s Relocations are being wound down and we will ‘inherit their workload’.”

“Relocations are being relocated.” Phillippa’s quip was not altogether unexpected; there were a few groans.

“Thank you Phillippa,” said Peter.

“How big a workload we talking?” asked Rain.

“Approx half again our existing workload,” replied Peter.

“Will we be getting more staff?” Rain again.

“No,” said Peter.

“But how are we meant to cope with that?” asked Debby, saying what the others were thinking.

“By ‘working smarter’,” Brian jumped in, borrowing one of Peter’s ‘phrases of the moment’, “and if some people spent less time at the coffee machine talking then we’d get a lot more done.”

“Who’re you on about?” demanded Debby, realising too late that by asking the question she had singled herself out. Peter made another note at the top of his meeting papers.

“Moving on” said Peter, sounding tired, “there will be a further meeting at 2pm today with the team from Alderson’s so we can ‘manage the handover’ smoothly. Rain and I will attend that. Another quick point, the company will no longer be providing free drinks.”

There was a collective gasp, then “Why’re they changing it?” asked Debby, “I mean we’ve had free coffee for years now.” For some reason her mouth seemed to be working overtime this morning, in the absence of Terry it could be deemed she had assumed his mantle.

“As you all know we’re facing ever ‘stiffer competition’ out there, which is one of the reasons we’ve been merged with Alderson’s. The Efficiency Department has identified that the company could save almost £100,000 a year by moving to a ‘pay for your own’ drinks environment.”

“Can we bring a kettle and make our own drinks?” asked Phillippa.

“No,” replied Peter, “that would mean providing kitchen facilities – an added expense.”

“What about a flask?” asked Brian.

“Flasks are OK,” said Peter, flashing him a grateful smile.

“If you can drink anything from a flask,” muttered Rain.

“Everyone, now, come to order, please.” Peter was becoming irritated and the strain of not showing it was telling on his stress levels. At that point Terry opened the door and slipped into the room, “Ah! Mr. Jones, glad you could join us.”

“Sorry I’m late,” said Terry “couldn’t find anywhere to park.”

“There were loads of spaces when I got here at 8:00,” said Brian.

“I got held up in traffic,” offered Terry, his expression hopeful.

“Then might I suggest you leave earlier,” replied Brian, “we all make the effort to be here on time, it’s only ever you who’s late.”

“Thank you, Brian,” Peter interceded. “OK the final point, we’ve had a report from C.I.T, the Counter Intelligence Team,” he elaborated, staring pointedly at Phillippa over whose head most things of import were known to sail, “that we have a ‘heightened terror threat’ as a result of our merger with Alderson’s.” He waited for the information to sink in then continued by way of explanation, “Apparently we’re now the 3rd largest provider of labour resource in the EU so it makes us an even bigger target.” Phillippa looked on the verge of tears, possibly at being singled out for the stare, the rest were demonstrating variously dismay or affected disinterest but no-one spoke. “So everybody please ‘stay alert, stay vigilant’ and re-watch the compulsory DVD ‘Terror and Counter Terrorism’. Remember, ‘we’re all in this together’ and it’s up to each and every one of us to …‘keep the workplace safe’.”

Terry winced; he was convinced that Peter’s insistence on speaking in inverted commas and quoting the company watchwords at every opportunity had a damaging effect on his psyche.

“Did anyone see the news this morning?” asked Rain, too brightly. “There was an explosion in the town centre.”

“Yeah,” chipped in Debby, “near Macheson’s.”

“They said something about 20 casualties,” Rain added, “it’s awful”.

“Did they say who it was?” asked Terry.

“It’s a bit early for that kind of info,” snapped Brian.

“I dunno,” defended Terry, “they sometimes give a warning.”

“That’s the Red Freedoms,” said Debby, “the Black Hands don’t give a warning.”

“Which could imply the Black Hands,” said Terry, settling in for a natter on the merits and demerits of one terrorist organisation’s way of doing business versus another.

“OK,” interrupted Peter, forestalling further chat, “Any questions?”

“Parking,” said Terry, opportunistic as ever, “when are they doing something about parking?”

“As we said yesterday and the day before and, oh yes, as we’ve been saying every day in all these months since you joined us, they aren’t going to do anything about the parking, thank you, Terry.” Peter stared round the table, lingering on Phillippa, as if daring any more utterances.

“When are they going to fix the tower clock?” she asked, making a sterling effort to fight back tears.

“And they aren’t going to fix the clock, either, Phillippa. As we’ve already said it will cost too much to repair. Any more questions?”

Silence.

“Good, back to work all of you, except you Terry, if you could just stay back a minute.”
The others filed out of the room and closed the door behind them.

“You were late again Terry.”

“I know but it was the traffic….”

“Traffic is not an excuse, Terry,” said Peter, “you should know to factor that in to your plans. Also, as I recall, Human Resources offered you an apartment close by when you joined us, a much sought after facility that had only come available due to the unfortunate demise of your predecessor.” He fell silent, possibly in recognition of human frailty and the fact that the previous occupant had thrown himself ungratefully off the 7th floor balcony of the much vaunted facility. “You are paid to be here between the hours of 8:30 and 5:00. It’s up to you to get yourself here on time.”

“Yes,” said Terry, for once recognising a time when the less words said might be the better.

“Everyone else manages to be here. I have to come from further away than you so I leave earlier. Brian always gets here at 8:00.”

“I know,” Terry murmured, humbly, while thinking 'yeah but Brian hasn’t got a life…'

“And he doesn’t leave his desk until 5.45 whereas you are packed and out the door by 5:10 if you can get away with it.”

Again, Brian hasn’t got a life …“I always do my hours…”

“Do you want to see your clocking in sheet?” asked Peter. Terry ducked his head; he knew what it would show. “The thing is Terry, it’s not working out for us; I think we need to move you on.”

Terry grimaced “I’m sorry Peter, I promise I will get here earlier in future.”

“I’m afraid it’s too late, Terry, Galaxy has already collated your data and raised it with Human Resources. They’ve spotlighted you and put in the transfer request.”

“You mean I’m already on the List?” asked Terry. “That was quick.”

Peter gave him a look; he was a strange one and no mistake, “Should come through in a few days. …Obviously you can’t be on site when it comes through, that would create a conflict of interest so your employment with Peter Brookes will be terminated this morning.”

Terry placed his head in his hands; his date with Cathy in Finance had just gone down the pan.

“I’m sorry, Terry but you knew your stats were in the system. It was only a matter of time before Galaxy highlighted you. You know the drill; it’s out of my hands.”

“I know, I know,” said Terry.

“I’m afraid I have to escort you off the premises.” Terry nodded. “Straight from this meeting.”

“Right now? Don’t I get to say goodbye to anyone?”

“Afraid not, you will be clocked out …” Peter flicked through his paperwork, “5 minutes from now. Sorry but there’s nothing I can do.”

“Yeah, I know,” said Terry, “I know how the system works.”


Happy reading, hope you have a good week.

Cheers

Arun

Amazon .co.uk
https://www.amazon.co.uk/Uprising-Aru...
Amazon.com
https://www.amazon.com/Uprising-Arun-...

The book 'Insurrection' will be FREE on Amazon for Kindle download until Wednesday 15th March 2017

Amazon .co.uk
https://www.amazon.co.uk/Insurrection...
Amazon.com
https://www.amazon.com/Insurrection-A...
Hi

Just to let you know that my book 'Insurrection' will be FREE on Amazon for Kindle/PC download from Saturday 11th to Wednesday 15th March 2017. All I ask is that you tell your friends and leave a review.

A group of well-heeled, geriatric friends, all ex service men and women, are so incensed at the callous and sustained ruination of their country that they resolve to make a stand, to arm themselves and to fight, to rid the land of their greedy leaders, to attack the political elites in their haven, the Houses of Parliament, even if it means making the ultimate sacrifice - will they go through with their murderous plans? A mad-eyed Preacher - is he all that he seems to be? What links them? Where will they all end up?

Sample below:

All around him lay his comrades, brave men of the 24th. The crack of rifles mingled with the cries of the wounded. He loaded a cartridge into the breach of his Martini-Henry and levelled the bayonet to meet the oncoming Zulus. He felt the warmth against his face, eyes closed he smelt the dry air, a slight breeze ruffled through his hair as he slowly exhaled. He heard the tune of Hound Dog and Elvis blasting away, then a heavy banging...

"Alb, you alright in there?"

"What the...?" he mumbled, rubbing his forehead, "Bugger."

"Alb?" Gerry sounded concerned; next step would be the warden and the master key.

"Yeah, yeah," he responded, struggling out his chair. His current favourite book, 'The Washing of the Spears ' slid off his lap and onto the floor, "Coming, give us a chance, won't you."
∞
During the years they’d lived in the Eden Hall Retirement Village, as residents died and apartments became vacant, Alb Rayner and Gerry Arbuthnot had contrived re-locations until they now lived next door to one another; best friends as children, best man at each other’s wedding, they’d billeted together in the army and saw no reason why they shouldn’t support each other in their dotage. (Alb’s words)

Now Gerry's hands trembled slightly as he put the two mugs of tea on the low table and slumped gratefully into the armchair. He looked across the room; at the lines of bookshelves that held the non-fiction that had sustained his friend for all the years he'd known him. For once Alb had no book in his hand, although one was lying open nearby, instead his attention was fixed on the TV, a large flat screened, surround-sound, effort bought so recently that the excitement of watching even boring shows on such a large and loud scale had yet to wear off. Alb had justified the purchase with the stridently voiced comment that since 'not a lot else' was going on in his life except counting the days to death and since he'd no-one to leave his money to even when that happened he would spend it while he could.

“You're just in time, some people’s issues programme's about to start," he muttered, remote in hand, "that poncey prick Tommy Boyle.”

“Ah, the lie detector show, that crap, turn it up, will ya.” There was apparently even less going on in Gerry's life.

"Did you see old Pete died?" Alb was a font of local knowledge, mostly from reading the obituaries.

"A real shame, he wasn't that old either," said Gerry, for once he too had heard the gossip.

"76 next birthday," said Alb; to them at 80 and 81 respectively Pete had been a mere stripling. "Not yet 76 and his bloody kids bunged him in a dump like that." He shivered; 'that' had been a state-run nursing home and could've been his fate too if it weren't for his Army pension and some good investments. His greatest terror, something that could wake him at night sweating, was the loss of his freedom and his beloved books.

"You'd have thought they could've looked after him, bloody selfish little shits." Gerry was instantly outraged, like blue touch paper lit on a firecracker, "You remember, when my old mum moved in with me and Gwen after dad died, we knew how to look after our own in those days."

"Yep," said Alb, who'd done the same for his dad, "it wasn't all me, me, me back then, people were a community."

"We looked out for each other," Gerry was warming to the theme; though they'd gone over the ground time and again, "no-one would've put their parents away, even in places like this."

He waved his hand to take in the whole set up; thirty-two separate one bedroom, ground floor apartments, arranged in a figure of eight around two central courtyards. Each had its own kitchen and lounge but there were communal facilities; a kitchenette, a sun room, a casual dining area and a large TV lounge. The Eden Hall Retirement Village was well equipped with all manner of amenities; available to all with the money to pay for it.

They fell silent, both taking a sip of tea and staring at the TV, the music started and they were entranced in an instant, part of the show, ready to be introduced to the mess-ups some people call their lives, ready to be entertained.

The host of the show, Tommy Boyle, tall, debonair and utterly lethal, his frame dominating the scene, turned to the large, amorphous mass on his right, “Felicity, please, tell us why you’re here.”

“Well, Tommy,” Felicity (all 22 stone of her) bounced in the chair, her arms gesticulating this way and that, “I’m pregnant right an’ Randall, my boyfriend won’t believe I ‘aven’t ‘ad sex wiv no-one else, just ‘im.”

"Bugger me, I'd believe her," Gerry was leaning out of his chair, nearly spilling his tea, "I'm surprised she's had sex with anybody, I mean who the hell could fancy that?"

The crux of the story laid bare the audience relaxed, waiting for the maestro to begin his dissection; “So for you, Felicity, it's clear, it's your boyfriend's baby.”

“Yeah,” said Felicity, the coquettish look she produced sat uneasily on her shapeless face.

"Right, let's get him in here," said Tommy. He put out one arm in a welcoming gesture and onto the stage slouched a tall and skinny youth with a spotty complexion. He made a face at the audience, some hissing at him having already made up their minds, and slumped into a chair.

"Okay Randall," started Tommy, "Felicity has told us that she's pregnant and that you don't believe it's yours."

"I know it ain't," spat Randall, adjusting his position, angling his body away from Felicity's.

"Gawd, will you look at that," guffawed Alb.

"What a bloody mess," said Gerry, trying to make up his mind if the youth's hair was wet or simply greasy. "A quick spell in the army wouldn't do him any harm."

"Too bloody right," agreed Alb, "reckon that goes for most of the lay-abouts."

"Yor a liar," barked Felicity, rising monstrously from her chair. The two book-end bouncers waiting in the wings moved closer at a quick signal from Tommy but she subsided into her chair as quickly as she'd risen from it.

The argument raged back and forth on screen, the all too familiar pattern of lies and deceit; baring your lives to the studio audience's ridicule as well as that of the watching millions, all in the name of entertainment.

Gerry sighed heavily; the repetition was depressing, "We got any biscuits?"

"No, you got any in your place?"

"No," said Gerry, "but I bet Ken has."

Ken Grewcock lived in one of the apartments along the way, a mere minute's walk yet neither could summon the energy to move; they continued to stare at the TV.

Tommy was in command again, doing his showman bit, playing to the audience, "Okay, Randall, we get the general idea, you don't trust Felicity." He paused for effect, “So, if you don’t trust her, why is it that you’re still with her?"

Randall fidgeted in his seat and played with his nose, then picked it with his thumb, "'Cause I luv 'er, doan I." The camera homed in on Randall's tears and then cut to Felicity. She put out a chubby arm and looked tenderly at him.

"Well, if you love each other so much, why are we here?" asked Tommy, "Surely you can make it work together, for the sake of the baby."

"It ain't my fuckin' kid," retorted Randall, tears dried.

"What makes you think it isn't?" asked Tommy.

"I just know, ok," sullen now, head on chest, his voice a low mumble.

"It's your baby," Felicity's voice was ragged with tears, "I love you an' I ain't been wiv no-one else, on my muvver's life."

"Well, we can establish the truth of that statement," said Tommy, stretching his hand out for the 'golden envelope of truth' in a theatrical gesture, "Felicity took the lie detector test this morning and we asked her 'have you had sex with anyone else since dating Randall?'"

Both Gerry and Alb had leaned forward, breath bated, in an unconscious mirroring of the studio audience's reaction.

Tommy glanced round at the audience and then looked at Felicity, ".....and she said 'No'."

He paused for effect and the audience, expectant, leant further forwards in their seats, a pin dropping would have caused mayhem, "and the lie detector test said.....she was........LYING."

At that the audience erupted with gasps, groans, laughs and general abuse directed at both individuals on the stage. Gerry added his own tirade to the general cacophony.

"D'you know," Alb's voice sounded strained, "I blame Thatcher, her and her 'no such thing as society'. We used to look after each other, in the old days, but it's different today." Gerry had half an ear on the TV and half on Alb, never a good thing to do as he would keep talking until he got proper acknowledgement of his point. "No-one looks out for anyone anymore, as soon as you're old they bung you somewhere to die, 'cause that's what they want to do... forget us until we die, then they whisk us away and bung us in the ground, just like that."

"Yeah," said Gerry, "know what you mean."

"And everything we were, everything we stood for, our experiences...."
Gerry caught his drift, "Yeah ...it's a real shame, a man like Pete, all his memories and now they're all gone, lost forever."

He was now quite depressed and was about to say more when Alb, in one of his quick mood changes muttered, "Still, no use cryin' over spilt milk," whilst pulling himself up and out of the chair. He fiddled with the remote, turning off the TV, "Come on; let's go see about those biscuits."

Happy reading, hope you have a good week.

Cheers

Arun

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The book 'The Cull' will be FREE on Amazon for Kindle download from Thursday 16th March 2017 until Monday 20th March 2017

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Hi

Just to let you know that the book 'The Cull' will be FREE on Amazon for Kindle/PC download from Thursday 16th March to Monday 20th March 2017. Please fell free to pass this on to your friends.

With the world's oil supplies running out can the wealthy elites pull off a reduction in the world's population in one engineered mega disaster? Who can stop them? Who would even know to

Sample below:
Prologue

For Sir Digby Chalfont, a connoisseur, of all the women in the group, one stood out. She was tall, with impeccably cut, gleaming bronze hair.

He noted the Givenchy Pandora box bag slung over the shoulder of her black crepe trouser suit, a Tyrwhitt, if he was not mistaken, and the raspberry shirt that softened the aquiline face was certainly an Emilio Pucci. He imagined a crop twitching against her Eleonaro black riding boots; the thought causing him to smile as he homed in. He had no idea of her standing in the group, although the clothes gave a hint to her status. He cared little; she was the most attractive person in the room and he intended to make himself known to her; his newly acquired knighthood must be good for something.

The faint silk scent of the window drapes was now combined with the perfume of luxurious colognes. The Chairman, a portly man with a well-used face, experienced the effect without enjoyment; well used to the smell of money. Taking advantage of his central seat on the small platform he surveyed the room. He was impressed all over again at the power of the Committee; to be able to summon two hundred people from the international political, military, industrial and social elites at such short notice and achieve their attendance was no mean feat.

Clusters of men, mostly white and middle-aged, their dark, sombre suits offset by a few in full dress uniform, a scattering of crisp white djellabas and several in multi-coloured dashikis. He noted the women; not enough to tip the balance.

All were veterans of this type of gathering, some chatting easily to each other, most keeping their own counsel. At the Chairman's nod, the man who'd been awaiting the signal detached himself from the group and walked to the podium; tall, slim, dark hair at the distinguished stage.

Kurt Silverman, Head of the Institute of Research. He cut an athletic figure; he looked good and he knew it. He also knew that he was amongst those for whom personal appearance mattered less than power and holdings; in that respect he was not their equal, he was there to serve them.

The view offered to him from the uplifted podium was of rows of seats, each one occupied by a glossy A4 booklet he'd prepared and placed there earlier. Gradually, as if in response to an unspoken suggestion, members of the group began to move to these seats.

After a short time the Chairman rose to his feet, his dark grey Kiton suit struggling valiantly to contain and command his ample body.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome," he said, his voice carrying without effort to the back of the room. Given the ratio of male to female and, more pertinently, the balance of power he might have been forgiven for saying, 'welcome gentlemen'. Having caught the eagle eye of the auburn-haired woman in black, seated next to Sir Digby, such a lapse had been rendered impossible. He waved his hand towards the podium, introduced Kurt in a few crisp words and resumed his seat.

Kurt spoke, his voice betraying a slight nervousness; this was an august company and he would have been a fool not to have regard for their power,

"Thank you for inviting me here to deliver, for your consideration, the proposed solution to the most pressing issue of our times; 'Peak Oil'."

He paused, making deliberate eye contact with the front row, then continued, "As you know, in the 70s it was estimated we would reach Peak Oil somewhere around 2015, after which the rate of production was expected to enter terminal decline, giving us a global fuel crisis somewhere about 2075."

He clicked a hand held device and the screen behind him came to life, showing a map of the location of the last known oil reserves, "However, increased warfare, rises in manufacturing and rampant population growth has meant a massively increased demand. We passed Peak Oil in 2005. As a result, we will reach the projected fuel crisis much sooner than expected."

He clicked again and the screenshot changed, "Of course, we took steps over the last few decades to try and contain the situation. Thanks to the work of the Neo Liberals in the eighties and nineties we were able to offset the increasing costs of oil production by shifting costs of manufacturing to the more cost effective labour force of the third world."

Kurt indicated with a smile the six-strong delegation from China, all male, in identical Prince of Wales check suits and to his eye, with identical faces. He gestured to the smaller group from India, two serious-looking men and one elderly, petite, sari-clad woman.

"You may recall it was estimated that we'd need a further three decades before the third world would be strong enough to take over the consumption of the West."

He paused before delivering the punch line, "I'm happy to say our recent studies have revealed that the new consumers are there in abundance as we speak, and more than able to take up the slack."

A few heads looked up at this revelation, most didn't react at all. Kurt had no time to wonder if they'd already had this information, he had to move on to the crux of the matter.

"This being the case not only have we no further need of the northern hemisphere labour market, we now have no interest in their continued ability to buy our products. In short we have no further need to sustain this part of the population."

Kurt was moving with poise now, as another chart appeared on the screen showing world population levels, "You will be aware of various natural phenomena supporting our aims of constraining population growth; the greatest of which are Aids and famine. The policy of appearing to work towards their eradication whilst achieving very little seems to be working. That takes care of Africa. Helpfully, Eastern and Southern European countries are being depopulated via sustained civil war and ethnic cleansing."

He paused, then, "Rapid economic cleansing is also underway; highly desirable areas of France and Spain are being de-populated and in the UK, London is being cleared to make way for settlement by the very wealthy, with the rest of the South-East to follow."

He couldn't prevent the smug grin that crossed his face; he'd recently snapped up some exquisite properties just outside Primrose Hill, so felt he had to follow up with, "Of course, you will get first pick of these prime slices of real estate as they become available. In fact, I believe you can book your plots now, is that right, Mr. Chairman?"

The Chairman rose awkwardly, caught out by the change of subject, but the words flowed with practiced ease, "Superior Homes has created an exclusive brochure, copies of which will be available in the foyer as you leave conference. You'll find outline plans for a deluxe chateau in an average lot size of 3,000 hectares in the new territories. "

An electric buzz swept the room.

Kurt judged the time was right for the big announcement, "However, attritional reduction of population in these areas is not enough for our needs. We must contain America, the biggest oil consumer on the planet."

Kurt looked round the room, then invested his voice with strength, "We now need to move into the last phase of our plan, which we are calling 'Operation Downsize'. I'd like to introduce General Nathan Goldhirsch of the US Army who will explain it to you."

The US contingent stirred in their seats and a tall man in full dress uniform rose to his feet and headed towards the platform. "That's US Marine Corps, Kurt," he said, smiling. There was a smattering of laughter, quickly suppressed.

"Okay," said the General, his frown bringing them back to complete order, "let's get down to business. We need to reduce the US of A population by at least 25% and we can't pussy-foot around. Economic destabilisation brings its own problems and we have one helluva civilian army out there, all armed. If they get a sniff of what's going on all hell will break loose. So, we gotta do it quickly." He turned to the screen and pointed at the image that appeared, "This here is La Palma, one of the Canary Islands."

A hush settled on the room, this was where it started to get serious.

The screen changed. "And this is the Cumbre Vieja volcano, it is extremely volatile." The screen changed again, "This is the western face of the volcano, which is gradually collapsing. One day, in the natural course of things this side will fall into the sea creating a mega tsunami which will sweep across the Atlantic, ravage the Bahamas and reach the Eastern seaboard in a matter of hours."

He allowed the magnitude of the pronouncement a few moments to settle then delivered the coup de grace, "Well, we don't have time to wait for the natural course of things, ladies and gentlemen, so we intend to blow the whole damn thing sky high. And we're doing it soon." 

Happy reading, hope you have a good week.

Cheers

Arun

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The book 'From Democracy to Dictatorship' will be FREE on Amazon for Kindle download from Wednesday 22nd March 2017 until Saturday 25th March 2017

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Hi

Just to let you know that the book 'Dictatorship to Democracy' will be FREE on Amazon for Kindle/PC download from Wednesday 22nd March to Saturday 25th March 2017. Please fell free to pass this on to your friends.
First published in 'Corpalism'.

A smorgasbord of a book portraying many facets of modern British life. The Independents are a new force in politics; free of any lobby group, party bias, or corporate interest, they are determined to change the face of the political scene. This puts them on a headlong collision course with the Establishment.

Combine this with a terror plot, the exploits of a young dysfunctional couple, the struggles of a mature family living with change and you have the ingredients of an all-round good read.

Extract below:

The Independents - What price democracy?


The meeting organiser approached the rostrum, he paused and waited for the cheering to stop, and then he spoke, “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to this, the very first meeting of the Independent candidates. It’s wonderful to see so many of you here in one place. We’ve selected a few people to speak with you today from the hundreds of offers we had …for those of you disappointed this time, we have a list for our next meeting and gradually we hope to give everyone who wants to speak a platform.”

The applause rose again as he gestured to a slightly built, sandy-haired man standing to the side. “Now, please give a rousing welcome to the man who started it all, our inspirational mentor and guide… Colin Carpenter.”

The delegates rose as one and cheered and clapped as the man moved confidently to the centre of the stage and took up position behind the rostrum. As he did so a single file of people walked on stage and sat in the row of chairs behind him.

“Thank you, Chris, for that introduction.” Colin said, beaming, the lights glinting off his glasses, “It’s been a long hard struggle but now we’re here, a visible force to be reckoned with, so…” There were more cheers from the hall. “WELCOME,” he shouted raising both arms, “today is the day we begin to change everything. Today we lay down the marker whereby we reclaim our country, reclaim our world, today is the day we start the new era of real rule of the people, by the people and for the people.”

There were more cheers and scatterings of delegates stood to applaud him; then more followed until the whole assembly was on its feet.

“No longer will we tolerate a corrupt, locked in party system; no longer will we tolerate their machinations, their duplicity, their constant deceptions, and their fake party divisions. We know they’re all the same, that they represent the same hidden wealthy few who own this country, we know they all rub shoulders with this clique of scoundrels and that they pander to their every whim. We will resist, we will stand against these corrupt servants of the rich and we will win.”

There were shouts of ‘win’ from the floor. Colin gestured that they should sit as he prepared to begin his speech proper. He waited a few moments until all were seated and the hall was quiet.

“I set out on this trail barely a year ago, not knowing where it would lead. Like many of you, I watched the Occupy movement in its struggle to take back control from those who hold us in thrall. I admit it, I watched rather than joined them; I supported them in spirit.” He paused, “I tried to make a stand by myself. I tried to keep my business going; I was trading on fumes. I cut costs and used inferior materials, I streamlined processes until there was no slack, I had to lay off staff who’d been with me for years and make the ones I kept work a 3 day week. We missed deadlines and our quality dropped – in the end I closed it down. Rather than be associated with what we were being forced to produce, rather than re-locate to China and do what my competitors had done – take advantage of slave labour in the East, rather than sacrifice my principles, I closed down the business I had started from scratch 10 years ago.”

He stopped talking, leaving a gap as if mourning a lost dream then he spoke again, quietly but with deep passion, “I was deeply unhappy and desperate to do something to make these rogues realise and stop what they were doing; it was something that seared into me until I could stand it no longer. I spent hours thinking about what I could do; without a revolution I couldn’t see anything changing. Then it hit me – I could ‘occupy’ the Political Space! I could stand on an ethical platform as an independent at the next general election.”

He looked slowly round the hall, making eye contact where he could. “I am a loyal Briton, my lineage reaches into all corners of these great islands of ours and I have always loved this country and all it has stood for. I love its people and our culture. I can no longer sit idly by whilst the greedy rich dismantle it, whilst they remove all investment from the UK and place that investment in areas of the world where they use slave labour, I will not tolerate it.”

There were shouts of support from the floor and again people were standing in their excitement.

“It is intolerable that the uncontrolled greed of the few should impact so heavily on the many. It is unacceptable that the political jackals should spin their concoction of lies to justify their plans to run down the state of Britain. It is deplorable that they should think themselves free to consign workers of the west to destitution whilst enslaving the workers of the 3rd world. It is unacceptable that they seek to return us to the same conditions as existed in the Middle Ages, a time when the rich elite was served by destitute serfs. They must think we don’t have a thought in our heads.” There was a rapturous round of applause. Colin grinned and added, “They must think we’re STUPID!”

The applause continued, accompanied now by excitable foot stamping.

“They clearly believe that the years of watching junk TV, of listening to their constant lies about the economy, about economics, the GDP, the unions, the balance of payments, the national debt, the so called ‘scrounging poor’, the so called ‘benefit cheats’, the communists, the NHS, the welfare state, state run education, Muslims, world terrorism, our lack of productivity and competitiveness, has shrivelled our brains and blinded us to the real truth, the reality behind all this.” He paused, took a breath then thundered out, “We, the masses, are being sold out by rich greedy psychopaths.”

More clapping from the floor.

“There is a precedent for all this but they hope we’re too stupid to see it, that we have no knowledge of history, that we’re so wrapped up in ‘reality’ TV that we miss what is happening, miss the correlation with the past.”

He poured some water from the jug on the table before him, allowing a few moments for his words to sink in, “The Roman Empire which for centuries was the dominant power, had legions that controlled vast territories of the known world, and then we’re told, all of a sudden, Rome collapses.”

He paused, then raised his voice slightly, “I say to you, Rome didn’t collapse, Rome did not fall – the wealthy and powerful families of Rome took advantage of prevailing winds and reorganised.”

He glanced out across the hall, checking the attention of the audience, “They recognised that maintaining legions to hold territories was costly, and they had a new weapon in their arsenal - religion. Caesar became the Pope, the leading families entered religion, the Roman Empire transitioned into the Roman Catholic Church collecting more revenues than a thousand legions could gather. That’s what happened to the Roman Empire, that’s what happened to Rome.”

He banged the table abruptly, startling a few people in the front rows, “But what happened to the ordinary people of Rome, to the plebeians, the out of work soldiers? They were reduced to penury as the Rome they knew disappeared from the map. As they starved, these legions that had made Rome great, the wealthy Romans, the patricians, the upper classes became richer than ever and the Pope found he was able to control the whole world with a few monks and threats of excommunication, of burning in hell for all eternity.”

He paused and took a quick sip of water, he knew that making the link was vital and these concepts were new to most of his audience.

“And that is what is happening to us…though it’s not belief in God that’s the new export, the new method of raising gold for the new aristocracy, the new export is a new religion altogether, and is called ‘consumerism’ or the ‘market’. The rich have exported our jobs to the 3rd world where wages are minimal, where land costs are minimal, where there are autocratic leaders and armies willing to crush the workers who ask for more, where there are billions of potential economic slaves to serve them and gain them even greater wealth.”
Someone in the crowd called out ‘Apple’ and a couple of others picked it up.

He nodded, “A good example, thank you” he said quietly, then raising his voice continued, “There’re one million people employed in sweat shop factories in China producing Apple products…think about it, one million jobs that could’ve been situated in the West but for the fact of having to pay minimum wage and provide decent working conditions.”

He stopped and stared out at the crowded hall, his eyes burning, “Wealth, that’s what this is all about, it’s what it’s always been about, the creation of wealth for the very few, for the greedy psychopaths who want to own everything and drive the masses into the gutters so that they can lord it over them; in order to feel rich they have to have the poor.”

Colin studied his audience, “So what of the British worker? What of the US worker? What is intended for us? In the recent past we had service industry jobs, easily accessed credit and the creation of massive debt, all this was done to ensure a smooth transition from production and purchase from the West to the East. It was no accident; it’s part of a plan and exactly what they intended and so far they have been successful. They have managed to transfer most of production from the West to the East and during that time the Western worker had artificial service industry jobs to ensure that there was still a market for products being made in the East. However, we have reached an end of the first phase - the credit bubble in the West has burst, the western worker is no longer able to provide the buying power required to maintain supply and demand so the wealthy few and their economic and political servants are looking to provide easier credit to the worker in the East, where there is a potential new market for debt.” ...................

Happy reading, hope you have a good week.

Cheers

Arun

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The book 'Murder, Mayhem & Money' will be FREE on Amazon for Kindle download from Sunday 26th March 2017 until Thursday 30th March 2017

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Hi

Just to let you know that the book 'Murder, Mayhem & Money' will be FREE on Amazon for Kindle download from Sunday 26th March 2017 until Thursday 30th March 2017. Please fell free to pass this on to your friends.
First published in 'Daydream Believers'.

Ordinary people, living ordinary lives. What happens when boredom hits? What happens when money raises its head? What would you do?

Extract below:

Workmen

Barry slumped onto the verge, regretting the decision even as his buttocks hit the turf.
He'd struggle to get up from this position and his gang was just up the road and ready to take the piss. He could hear the comments in his head, fat bastard, beached whale and other such insults just waiting to find an outlet.

Still, he was here now and he might as well get on with it.

He pulled out his note pad and punched the number into his phone. It was only 30 seconds before it connected but he was through to the usual auto service; if you want blah, blah press 1 or if you want such and such press 2. It took him 4 minutes to get through to the service he wanted, then there was a queue and he had to wait a further 5 minutes before a female voice came on the line.

"Hello, my name is Jane. How may I help you today?"

"Ah Jane," he said, for a moment forgetting why he'd called, "My name's Barry Halliwell, I'm ringing because I got a parking ticket the oth....." He was aware he'd put on his telephone voice, articulating carefully in the hope that a show of good breeding would get a better result.

"We can't take payments over the phone," said Jane, helpfully, "you need to send a cheque to the address on the back of the parking charge."

"Ah, no, that's not what I was after, erm.....I sent a letter with a copy of the ticket that I purchased on the relevant date." He spoke fast hearing her draw breath for her next dismissal, "the letter explained that I had displayed the ticket, but when I shut my car door the ticket must have blown off the dash into the car well and was missed by your warden. So I did in fact buy a ticket and, therefore, shouldn't have to pay a fine."

"Tickets have to be displayed," said Jane, brightly.

"Ah, yes I know that," he kept his voice even, "and it was, but on this occasion the wind must've blown it off the dash when...."

"Tickets have to be displayed," repeated Jane.

"Right," it was getting harder to maintain the even tone, but he managed to swallow his irritation, "I know that but the main point is that people buy a ticket, I mean, that's the whole point right?"

Jane didn't respond.

"That's the whole idea, to pay for the parking space for a given period of time, well I did pay and I have the ticket to prove it...."

"Tickets have to be displayed," said Jane, adding firmly, "at all times."

"I know that, Jane, but I'm telling you I bought a ticket, so I rented the space, and something occurred be it an act of god or what, but something occurred so that the ticket fell from my dashboard into the car well. I didn't avoid buying a ticket, I bought one, still have it and sent you a copy...." He was losing it, and losing her, he knew it but he couldn't stop.

"I'm sorry sir," said Jane, her voice still at the same equable pitch, "but I will have to terminate this call."

"Don't do that," said Barry, wildly, "it took me fifteen minutes to get through."

"Sorry sir," said Jane, sounding anything but, "I've advised you that tickets must be displayed so I can't help you any further, good day," with which she hung up.

Barry clenched his fists, incandescent with suppressed fury, knowing it was bad for his blood pressure but momentarily unable to get a grip. He breathed deeply and counted to 10 then punched the number in again. His heart slowed to normal during the enforced waiting period. He avoided looking at his team idling down the road, working on the childish premise 'if I don't look at you, then you can't see me.'

It was 10 minutes before he heard the voice he'd been waiting for.

"Hello, my name's Gareth, how may I help you today?" Smooth, silky.

"Hi Gareth," said Barry, aiming for instant camaraderie, "I'm having a little problem with erm.....a parking ticket."

"We can't take payments over the phone, sir" said Gareth, helpfully, man-to-man, "you need to send a cheque to the address on the back of the parking charge."

"I know that, Gareth but the thing is, you see, I did buy a ticket so this fine isn't really relevant to me."

"Was it adequately displayed in your car window sir?" asked Gareth.

"Right," said Barry, thinking 'this is going pear-shaped fast', "let me explain ..."

"I'm sorry sir," said Gareth, oil-slick smooth, "unless the ticket was displayed in your car window I won't be able to help you."

"I get that," desperation was taking his breath away, "but can you please explain the purpose of buying a ticket?"

"To rent the parking space sir," said Gareth, happy to oblige, "but the ticket has to be displayed. It's part of the terms and conditions. This is displayed on the sign where you would have purchased the ticket and on the reverse of the ticket."

"So you don't dispute that I bought a ticket?" This is not what he had meant to say, the conversation was getting away from him again.

"I'm not in a position to comment on that, sir."

'Stop calling me sir when you mean shithead', Barry thought savagely, whilst forcing his voice into an even tone, "Surely you have a procedure in place that takes accidents into account?"

"The rules and terms are clear; the ticket must be clearly displayed."

"But that's criminal," now he'd lost it, "that means you get money for the parking and then you get to fine people 60 quid with no recourse or....."

"I'm afraid I can't progress this any further sir," said Gareth, all firm and righteous, "so I'm terminating the call, good day."

"Don't..." shouted Barry to the dial tone, "You fuckin' bastard, right, I'll 'ave you!" he snarled, manhandling the number into his phone, cursing violently as each digit went in, heart palpitating ferociously as he waded through the auto service and this time waiting a further 20 minutes for an operator, neurotically convinced they knew it was him and were making him wait longer on purpose.

"Hello, you're through to Diane," yet another well-modulated voice. Were they churning them out of a fucking sausage machine somewhere? "How may I assist you today?"

He launched straight away into his speech, hoping to catch her unawares, "I bought a parking ticket and I placed it on the dashboard of my car, but when I returned to my car I had a parking fine ...."

"Ah, well sir," began Diane.

"If you could just wait for me to finish please Diane, you see I then sent a copy of the ticket and a letter explaining what must've happened to...."

"Was the ticket displayed in your car window sir?"

"It was when I left the car but it must've fallen off...it was on the floor," he was aware how piteous he sounded; it was all he could do not to cry in rage and frustration.

"If the ticket wasn't adequately displayed we are entitled to levy a fine...."

"Surely once I present evidence that I bought a ticket ............"

"Do you still have the ticket sir?" asked Diane.

Breakthrough, he thought, she's listening, "Yes I do Diane," he said warmly, he could cuddle her.

"Good," said Diane, her voice bright and even more helpful than before, "then if you look on the reverse you will see it says in the terms and conditions...."

He blinked. For a moment he was too shocked to speak, then he rallied, he'd come too far to stop on a technicality, "Yes I know what it says, but you're not listening to me, I paid for the ticket, I paid to park there and now you're fining me for an act of god."

"The rules and terms are clear; the ticket must be clearly displayed."

"Diane, please, am I talking to a human being or a robot here? I'm telling you that I bought your lousy ticket, I paid to park there, this fine is all wrong."

"I'm sorry sir, but unless the ticket is adequately displayed...."

"Right!" said Barry, "in that case give me my money back. The money I paid for the parking ticket, £3.50, I want it back. If you're going to fine me anyway then you have to give me my money back."

"I'm sorry sir," said Diane, sounding infinitesimally off-balance. He felt like he'd scored a goal at Wembley, "there are no circumstances under which we'd offer a refund."

"But I paid for the ticket, I paid to park there, so you owe me a fucking refund if you intend to sting me for 60 quid."

"If you are going to verbally abuse me," said Diane, balance restored, "I will have to terminate the call, good day."

He dialled again, he would do this all day if he had to; it now meant more to him than his job, in fact he would commit the rest of his life to achieving this one thing. Verbal abuse? I'll give you verbal abuse.

He readied himself to launch a vitriolic tirade when he heard an electronic male voice on the other end, "We have received several nuisance calls from this number, therefore, I'm immediately terminating this call."


Happy reading, hope you have a good week.

Cheers

Arun

Amazon .co.uk
https://www.amazon.co.uk/Murder-Mayhe...
Amazon.com
https://www.amazon.com/Murder-Mayhem-...

Hello everyone!

I am Kiran Bhat. I am an Indian-American polyglot, traveler, and writer. I have traveled to over 130 countries, lived in 18 different places, and speak 12 languages. I try to use my lifestyle and perspective as a means to create globalised works of literature. I'm in the middle of a book tour, but have realized that I have done very little work to get reviews of my work onto the Internet; I am trying to fix this now. Would any of you guys be interested in reviewing my novel, we of the forsaken world...?

In a distant corner of the globe, a man journeys to the birthplace of his mother, a tourist town destroyed by an industrial spill. In a nameless remote tribe, the chief’s second son is born, creating a scramble for succession as their jungles are being destroyed by loggers. In one of the world’s sprawling metropolises, a homeless one-armed woman sets out to take revenge upon the men who trafficked her. And, in a small village of shanty shacks connected only by a mud-and- concrete road, a milkmaid watches the girls she calls friends destroy her reputation.

we of the forsaken world…, published by Iguana Books on January 22nd, 2020, is structured as a linguistic chain comprising the accounts of 16 people, connected along subtle lines, who indirectly witness these four narratively and geographically diverse central storylines. The story flows and recombines like digital connectivity, throwing into question pre-21st century assumptions about narrative logic and, I hope, embodying the way in which modern communication unites this planet every second, everywhere.

If you are interested in reading it, you can get a copy on amazon (https://www.amazon.com/we-forsaken-wo...), or I will happily send you a review copy if you pm me. Just let me know what works for you.

Best wishes,

Kiran

Ends: X-mas day

Kindle Giveaway: Letters from an Expatriate in Europe by Rabindranath Tagore. Wittiest travelog in the world. https://bit.ly/expat21 Now LIVE!


Please let me know if I may post this elsewhere as well. I'm kinda new to Goodreads.

I write book reviews on HubPages. Here is the link to my reviews

https://hubpages.com/@ladydazy

Tales of Habib the Hoaxter: Sometimes Hoaxed, Always Good for a Laugh
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0CV9VZH1Z
Here is a collection of 30 witty stories about Habib, an Arab folk hero who has appeared under many names for hundreds of years. Each tale contains a twist, often with the verbal knife, guaranteed to make you laugh aloud with delight.
These fables will transport you to an exotic, timeless world filled with marvels and belief in marvels. In this world, whether the little guy wins or loses depends on how well he uses his wits. Sometimes cunning, sometimes credulous, Habib has a unique way of thinking that will enable you to see the world in a new and wondrous way.
Many of the stories convey moral lessons, while others convey pure amusement, bringing laughter either at Habib’s cleverness or at his lack thereof.
Be prepared for an entrancing journey into “one day,” an adventure that will transport you far from your everyday life, then will return you to it with new and marveling eyes.

Treasures of the Lochs
This is suspenseful YA Christian fiction, involving a modern-day treasure hunt in Scotland, with a bit of supernatural thrown in. Blending historical fact and Scottish legend within an action-packed adventure, Treasures of the Lochs is an exciting, powerful story of faith, friendship, and redemption. The target audience is teenage and above (some parts would be too intense for younger readers).

This book is a 2024 NIEA Finalist in Religion Fiction. The novel crosses a few different genres, including Christian Fantasy, Magical Realism, and Suspense. It also hit Amazon#1 New Release for Christian Fantasy. I hope you’ll check it out.

My new George Orwell novel, Darkness in 1984, is out now on Amazon.

Based on true events.

‘Darkness in 1984’ available from Amazon - https://tinyurl.com/4twzftfr

Christmas 1945 - George Orwell, recently widowed, arrives with his baby son to stay with his friend Arthur Koestler at a remote cottage, Bwlch Ocyn, in North Wales.

Orwell has just published ‘Animal Farm’ and mulls ideas with Koestler for his next novel. Koestler had written the acclaimed novel, ‘Darkness at Noon,’ about the Stalin show trials and also spent time in a Nazi prison. Both Orwell and Koestler supported the Republican government during the civil war in Spain and were dedicated to democratic Left causes.

Here for the first time are their imagined conversations in wintry Wales, based on true events, which produced one of the 20th Century’s greatest and darkest books, ‘1984.’

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1jwuH...

‘Making A Moveable Feast’ is based on true events in 1920’s Paris in the Jazz Age.
Amazon - https://tinyurl.com/y9azrzr4

Despite many biographies, histories and reminisces of the Lost Generation, until now there hasn’t been a novel bringing to life those early day to day conversations of Hadley Richardson and Ernest Hemingway finding their feet, over their first four months in Paris in 1922. ‘Making A Moveable Feast’ is meticulously researched to piece together the daily events of that romantic Parisian Springtime time after WWI.

Hadley grew in confidence, after suffering the depression of cruel family bereavements, into a recognised classical pianist playing to French society, led by Natalie Clifford Barney. Gertrude Stein gives Hemingway lessons to transform his writing into a unique style that changed modern prose. This book shows how.

Hadley and Hemingway became friends with Sylvia Beach, owner of Shakespeare & Company bookshop, James Joyce, Djuna Barnes, Ezra and Dorothy Pound, Mildred Aldrich, Picasso and many more visionary artists and writers.
Scattered throughout are symbols of Hera, the Greek goddess of female strength (peacock, pomegranate, crown, cuckoos) and to keep readers on their toes there are also coy references to James Joyce’s Ulysses.
For the first time, daily conversations in 1922 between the great writers are created. This is a fresh novel, led by the women of the era, from meticulous research of recorded events and testimonies. It leans on dialogue that will resonate with the emotions of readers. Making A Moveable Feast taps into popular desire for more knowledge of those magical Parisian days, one hundred years ago.