Terminal Destination

Thank-you to everyone who has bought From the Edge of an English Summer and for all your messages of support through the tough times we’ve had lately.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Copyright -Douglas M. MacIlroy

Dave worked hard making his globe. Mary would love it. He’d caringly inserted a little bulb at all the places they’d visited. It would bring back fantastic memories whenever she turned it on; cruising down the Danube, sweltering under the pyramids, iced cocktails and lazy days by pools along the Mediterranean.
Noticing at the last minute she’d entered his den, he vainly tried to hide his gift, “You mustn’t look, it’s for Christmas.”
“I’m sorry; It’s bad timing, I know.”
“What?”
“I’m leaving you…for Luca.”
“The waiter?”
Teary-eyed Dave turned from her and punched a hole, obliterating Sicily, their last destination.

Written for Friday Fictioneers – a 100 words story based on a photo prompt. Hosted by Rochelle. Read the other entries here.

Advertisements

No Comment.

Apologies to everyone for not commenting on your works last week. We had two bereavements in the family and it was a difficult time for us all. I hope to be back in the saddle next week.

Sales of the book are going well. It has surprised me how many have ordered the paperback rather than the download. I suppose that’s because I download so many myself, I ended up with the impression the physical book was nigh finished, how wrong I am. Thanks again to those of you who have purchased, I hope you’re enjoying the read. Reviews are the lifeblood of an author promoting his or her work, so I would appreciate it if you get the time to post a comment and a star or five, once you’ve finished it.

Until next week and best wishes to you all.

Mick.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Living in Constant Hope

Launch day is almost upon us, one more sleep. Thank-you again for all your Friday Fictioneers support.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

PHOTO PROMPT © Nick Allen

I love my friend Brian to bits but sometimes he just doesn’t seem to get it. “Ta da!” He screamed proudly displaying his collection. “I’ve been reading up and there’s money in oil.”
“If you’re drilling it,” I said wearily, “or refining it…the transporting companies earn a living and there’s a small profit from retailing it…but you seem to have joined in at the wrong end of that line.”
“You mean?”
“’fraid so…you might get something for the cans…if you can find an oil can collector”
“Oil can collector,” he mused, “I’ll google that.”
I sighed, “Please don’t expect fortunes.”

Written for Friday Fictioneers – a 100 words story based on a photo prompt. Hosted by Rochelle. Read the other entries here.

Wordsworth’s Glade

Thank-you for all the support I’ve had from Friday Fictioneers so far for my debut novel. I’m looking forward to the launch date December 1st and the subsequent reviews. This week’s 100 words is a short excerpt because the prompt fitted so well. I hope you enjoy.

 

 

 

 

 

PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

The air was full of the scent of new shoots and woodland flowers. We crested a rise over which there was a steep drop to a clearing through which ran a wide stream, tinkling over rocks and gravel. A kingfisher perched on a wayward branch hanging over the water and alarmed rabbits scurried away, white scuts bobbing through the green before disappearing into an extensive warren. After the mad race from Claretree, the sense of peace and wholesomeness was palpable. “Where are we?” I asked Wordsworth.
“If you were me, you’d probably call it home, I’m reluctant to call it my place.”

Written for Friday Fictioneers – a 100 words story based on a photo prompt. Hosted by Rochelle. Read the other entries here.

Away with The Fairies for a Moment

I’d just like to mention Iain Kelly’s new novel, The Justified State. I’ve just finished reading it and I’ll put up a proper review on Amazon later but in the meantime I thought I’d let you know, I thoroughly enjoyed it and would recommend it to any of you contemplating buying it.

 

 

 

 

 

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Under the bypass isn’t beautiful but there is calm and seclusion. Its ugliness precludes people coming there. The rumbling traffic above comforts Will; it’s the song of the throng that can’t reach him there.
He leaves his anxiety up there in the bustle, traded in for snatched contemplation.
Down here, he rests and dreams. His mind adorns the smutted concrete edifice with verdant, sprawling ivy and bougainvillea, the stagnant water becomes a silver stream with jumping rainbow fish, and Richard Dadd’s fairies buzz from flower to flower, milking the nectar.
Short as they are, Will treasures his idyllic lunch breaks.

Written for Friday Fictioneers – a 100 words story based on a photo prompt. Hosted by Rochelle. Read the other entries here.

The Face in the Wood

It is with great pleasure, I announce another long awaited, (in our house) addition to the family. We now have an ISBN number and my novel is launched, available to those interested, for pre-order on Amazon now.

Modern slavery is a burgeoning issue in Britain today but high up in his Canary Wharf office, Julian Ashton is oblivious to it all…that is until he steps away from the bank and finds himself unwittingly embroiled in the sordid underbelly of modern society.
When you’re a banker by trade, you’re going to need help fighting gangsters but with the police unable to act, Julian only has the local tramp to turn to.
Somehow, they must find a way to save a group of young women from the clutches of a violent people trafficker.
Their efforts to adapt and survive would be comic, if there wasn’t so much at stake.

And now for the reason we all come here, 100 words based on the following fantastic prompt supplied by © J.S. Brand 

Griff didn’t interact, he wasn’t good at articulating or expressing himself, other than when he sat at night, carving totems into logs by the light of the fire.
There was never a plan; he let the wood dictate where the blade went. Usually, the result would be a woodland creature or plant but today, he carved a face.
A face staring evilly at him. The face of the monster fleeing, the day Griff found the girl’s dead body.
Never happy with the description he’d supplied, he bagged the log, hefted it onto his back and headed for the police station.

Written for Friday Fictioneers – a 100 words story based on a photo prompt. Hosted by Rochelle. Read the other entries here.

 

The Stranded Airmen

 

 

 

 

PHOTO PROMPT © Jeff Arnold

Darling…” The sun striking the chess pieces explodes against his cataracts and he hears again the strident voices he’d heard constantly down the years.
He freezes; Yveline holds him down. Her eight-year-old brother screams insults at the soldiers, like a bird trying to lure a predator from its nest.
“They’re searching the barn,” Yveline whispers. Martin tries to stand.
“There’s nothing we can do.”
Stretching their heads above the corn, they watch the soldiers throw Andy’s limp body on to a lorry.
The boy vainly gesticulates obscenities.
“I’m sorry Andy,” he weeps. “So sorry.”
“Darling…what is it? It’s your turn.”

Written for Friday Fictioneers – a 100 words story based on a photo prompt. Hosted by Rochelle. Read the other entries here.