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Bert felt jealous, cheated on, and blue. Then he discovered he could morph into a giant nightmarish slug...
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On Wednesdays and Sundays I’m blogging nibble-sized chunks of new ‘Life in the Clouds’ novellas. You can check in regularly and read them bit for bit, or leave a message in my 'contact' page, and I'll send the entire digital story to you for free when published.




Life in the Clouds #6: Take a Slug ® James Field.​



Twin Cheats

In the last post: Chief Inspector Dobbs wasn't happy. If the two hot-heads gave him lip he'd throw them in jail...

30/5/2020

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Dear friends, if you like a good chuckle, dim-witted heroes, and larger-than-life villains, then you'll love this fascinating series. On Tuesdays and Saturdays, I’m blogging nibble-sized chunks of new ‘Life in the Clouds’ stories. You can check in regularly and read them for free, or wait to buy the entire story when published.
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​Enchanter on the Roof ® James Field. Part 13


Chief Inspector Dobbs had given an order and he expected obedience. If he'd been attired properly, he'd have given them five seconds. Dressed as he was, he'd give them ten.

Dick Charmer blew kisses to the young girls and swagged over the dance floor to see what was wanted of him. Olive straightened her see-through blouse and dragged her miniskirt down over her bulging hips far enough to hide her knickers. With her arms folded across her chest, she sidled to join them.

“Right, you two,” said Chief Inspector Dobbs. “I’m in the stages of retirement and don’t need this hassle. Promise to behave yourselves or leave.”

Dick Charmer gave him a dismissive nod, glanced at the dance floor, and waved to the young girls.

Much more of that arrogance, thought Dobbs, and he'll find himself standing behind bars with no one to wave at but a brutish prison guard. “I’m making investigations about you,” he said in his best authoritarian voice. “Preliminary reports suggest you might not be who you claim to be.”

“Really?” Dick Charmer turned the corners of his mouth down. “That's news to me. I’m a roofer not a goofer, good at it too.”

Not wanting to intimidate him too much just yet, Dobbs swallowed his sneaking suspicion and played along. “Good lad. I didn’t think someone as talented and popular as you could be a criminal. It’s not your fault, or a crime, if all the women assume you’re a Don Juan.”

He couldn't be sure, but Dobbs suspected his name wasn’t Dick Charmer at all. He didn't know his proper name either, only that his nickname was Four-Ps, a slippery customer who always escaped arrest at the last moment. Not this time though. Other policemen might have had trouble catching this young delinquent, but not the legendary Chief Inspector Dobbs.

"Right on, man." Dick Charmer grinned and raised his hand for a high-five.

Dobbs ignored it; he hated anything other than gentlemanly handshakes. “You still need to promise you'll behave yourself,” he said and forced a practised smile. As much as he despised the boy, he didn’t want to scare him away. He wanted him right here at The Stables where he could keep an eye on him. When he found out exactly what sort of crook he was, and had enough evidence to prove it, he'd cart him off to a prison cell where scum like him belonged.
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To be continued…
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Picture
Image by mohamed Hassan from Pixabay


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​The real world:
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Rather than miss an instalment, it’s easy to follow my blog on bloglovin’. They’ll give you a friendly nudge as I release new parts.

Like to know more about Alf, Bert and the rest of the gang? You can read their chaotic history in What on Earth.
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In the last post: a riot broke out at the disco. Semi-retired Chief Inspector Dobbs pulled the plug...

26/5/2020

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Dear friends, if you like a pleasant chuckle, dim-witted heroes, and larger-than-life villains, then you'll love this fascinating series. On Tuesdays and Saturdays, I’m blogging nibble-sized chunks of new ‘Life in the Clouds’ stories. You can check in regularly and read them free, or wait to buy the entire story when published.


​Enchanter on the Roof ® James Field. Part 12

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All the commotion at Ye Olde Inn disco had Chief Inspector Dobbs worked up and he could feel sweat dripping from his armpits. He yanked his bright yellow pullover over his head and exposed his Tower of London T-shirt. It was a present from his wife, and he hated it. "You're semi-retired and off duty," she had told him, "Time to get out of those stuffy cotton shirts."

It also disclosed his Police Identity card, hanging around his neck on a piece of leather string. Off duty or not, he never removed it.

After marrying in his old age, something he'd spent his life avoiding, he’d purchased a cottage at The Stables as a weekend retreat. "A place to relax and get away from the hectic bustle of your office in London’s East End," his wife had said.

It seemed, however, that every criminal in the area used The Stables as a hideout. Alf and Bert over at the bar were two typical examples. Even Styles, the Inn's proprietor and owner of The Stables was a tax-fiddling crook. There was no such luxury as ‘Off Duty’ in his line of work: no wonder he hated it. Especially when he wasn't dressed properly.

A riot had almost broken out on the dance floor, incited by a young hooligan named Dick Charmer and a frustrated old slag named Olive. Both were suspect villains.

Like the excellent cop he was, he’d pulled the disco’s plug, restored order, and commanded the disc-jockey to play soft music at a much lower volume. The DJ's choice of melody, however, was deplorable and did little to improve his mood.

“You, and you,” he said, pointing to the two troublemakers. “Get over here.” And if they gave him any lip, something he hated, he'd have them arrested and thrown in jail for the night.
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To be continued…
Picture
Image by ElisaRiva from Pixabay
The real world:

Rather than miss an instalment, it’s easy to follow my blog on bloglovin’. They’ll give you a friendly nudge as I release new parts.
​
Like to know more about Alf, Bert and the rest of the gang? You can read their chaotic history in What on Earth.
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In the last post: Olive threw her arms around Dick Charmer and hugged him tightly. Her fiance, Bert, vowed there would be murder...

23/5/2020

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Dear friends, if you like a pleasant chuckle, dim-witted heroes, and larger-than-life villains, then you'll love this fascinating series. On Tuesdays and Saturdays, I’m blogging nibble-sized chunks of new ‘Life in the Clouds’ stories. You can check in regularly and read them free, or wait to buy the entire story when published.

​Enchanter on the Roof ® James Field. Part 11

With her hands behind Dick Charmer’s head, Olive planted her lips on his. And then it seemed all the girls on the dance floor wanted a part of him. They clawed at one another, trying to get to him and smother him in hugs and kisses.

Styles worried they might maim his contractor, hobbled into the mob and swatted the girls across their heads with his walking stick. “Get off him,” he hollered. “I need him to finish repairing the roof.”

Another man drew away from the bar and strutted through the swarm. Semi-retired Chief Inspector Dobbs, short and chunky, wore a bright yellow pullover and a stern expression. When he reached the disco system, he pulled out the plug.

At the bar, Bert had snatched his packet of peanuts from Alf. Now, in the sudden deafening silence, Bert's cry rang out. “Get your hands off me nuts.”

All eyes snapped to the bar and a stupefied hush followed, as though everyone had seen lightning and were waiting for the thunder. Then, in the stillness, Olive's voice bleated. “Oh, Dick, I love you.”

“Let go of me, you old hen,” screeched Dick Charmer.
Heads swivelled back, just in time to see him push Olive so hard that she nearly fell over backwards.

“Everybody calm down,” yelled Chief Inspector Dobbs, arms raised. “I know this is a farm, but you don’t have to behave like animals."

Murmurs and giggles spread through the crowd, and with order restored, the inspector spoke into the disc jockey’s ear. The music started again: soft and snug this time. But the inspector had more to say; he aimed to give the instigators of the near-riot a strict word of warning.
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To be continued…
Picture
Image by Clker-Free-Vector-Images from Pixabay

​The real world:

Rather than miss an instalment, it’s easy to follow my blog on bloglovin’. They’ll give you a friendly nudge as I release new parts.
​

Like to know more about Alf, Bert and the rest of the gang? You can read their chaotic history in What on Earth.
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In the last post: Bert's fiance, Olive, was on the dance floor. Bert was at the bar, and he wasn't happy...

19/5/2020

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Dear friends, if you like a pleasant chuckle, dim-witted heroes, and larger-than-life villains, then you'll love this fascinating series. On Tuesdays and Saturdays, I’m blogging nibble-sized chunks of new ‘Life in the Clouds’ stories. You can check in regularly and read them as my gift to you, or wait to buy the entire story when published.

​Enchanter on the Roof ® James Field. Part 10

At Ye Olde Inn disco, teenage girls flocked around Dick Charmer. The young roofing contractor danced with fluid sensuality, and the girls copied his erotic moves, hustling one another for best position.

Bert propped up the bar with his elbow, finished his fourth beer and scowled at his fiancé. Olive stood on the edge of the dance floor and faced the crowd with her back to the disc-jockey. From the look of determined concentration on her face she struggled to find the music's rhythm. Her limbs did scant more than jerk and twitch as if someone had tipped a handful of wiggly maggots down her neck.

She'd dressed in black meshed stockings and perilously narrow miniskirt. Her blouse left little to the imagination, and her breasts wobbled like mounds of jelly on a plate.

Bert thought she resembled a plump fried sausage bursting out of its skin, and her brazenness made his blood boil. Her arms, he saw, had finally found the beat—her fists pounded the air in front of her, as though kneading a mass of dough.

Carrying considerably more pounds of flesh and flab than the teenage girls, Olive advanced on Dick Charmer, scattering the competition like skittles. When she reached him, she flung her arms around his shoulders and pressed her body against his.

Bert slammed his empty beer mug on the bar and stuffed a handful of peanuts in his mouth. “Tonight,” he growled to himself. “Tonight there’s going to be a murder!”
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To be continued…
Picture
Image by Hugo Hercer from Pixabay

​The real world:

Rather than miss an instalment, it’s easy to follow my blog on bloglovin’. They’ll give you a friendly nudge as I release new parts.
​

Like to know more about Alf, Bert and the rest of the gang? You can read their chaotic history in What on Earth.
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In the last post: Dick Charmer attracted paying crowds to Ye Olde Inn. Shame this was his last evening...

16/5/2020

0 Comments

 
Dear friends, if you like a good chuckle, dim-witted heroes, and larger-than-life villains, then you'll love this fascinating series.

​On Tuesdays and Saturdays, I’m blogging nibble-sized chunks of new ‘Life in the Clouds’ stories. You can check in regularly and read them free, or wait to buy the entire story when published.

​Enchanter on the Roof ® James Field. Part 09

“Look at him go,” said Styles, tapping his walking stick to the driving rhythm and urging his stiff old hips to rotate like Dick Charmer's. “Dances like he’s got a weasel up his bum.” He slapped the cane across the bar. “Drinks all round." A cheer went up from all but Bert.

What’s the matter with you? Don’t be such a party killer!”

Bert glared at him, jowls and eyes sagging. “What’s the time?”

“What a stupid question to ask at a time like this. Why ask me?”

“Because I lost me watch.”

Styles blinked at Bert and then gawked at him. He'd envied Bert's watch, a flashy Rolex that had cost a fortune. “Tough! Where’d you lose it?”

“If I knew that it wouldn’t be lost, would it.”

Styles slapped his knees and cackled. “You got me there."

Since Bert and Olive had engaged to marry, and Bert had moved to a house at The Stables, Styles had seen a lot of him at Ye Olde Inn. Bert was the biggest man he'd ever met, a blend of solid fat and steel-hard muscle. And by the looks of his face, you'd think he was a bogeyman: a fitting security guard for the neighbouring Cloud Mansion and Estate. "You on duty tonight?”

“No, it’s Alf’s shift. Ain’t my turn until tomorrow afternoon.”

“Cheer up then you grumpy bugger.” Styles chortled and shuffled his feet. He knew he could say what he liked to big man without him taking offense. It was only when you'd known Bert for a while that you saw his soft centre. Apart from the occasional brawl, he wouldn’t hurt a fly. Put in jeopardy, he'd protect children, friends and animals with his life.

“Seems like the devil’s got into the youngsters tonight.” Styles turned his attention back to the disco and waved his arms and walking stick in the air. “Never seen them having this much fun.”

​He whacked Bert’s broad back with his cane, raising a haze of glittery dust in the disco’s pulsating lights. “Go and dance with Olive. Aren’t you two engaged?” He smacked his gums and snickered. “She can’t dance to save her soul, but she makes me horny just looking at her. If she were my girl I wouldn’t be sitting here moping.”

To be continued…
Picture
Image by MrJayW from Pixabay

​The real world:

Rather than miss an instalment, it’s easy to follow my blog on bloglovin’. They’ll give you a friendly nudge as I release new parts.
​
Like to know more about Alf, Bert and the rest of the gang? You can read their chaotic history in What on Earth.
0 Comments

In the last post: Dick Charmer kissed each fingertip. Tonight he'd show the rich adolescent girls his best moves...

13/5/2020

0 Comments

 
Dear friends, if you like a pleasant chuckle, dim-witted heroes, and larger-than-life villains, then you'll love this fascinating series. On Tuesdays and Saturdays, I’m blogging nibble-sized chunks of new ‘Life in the Clouds’ stories. You can check in regularly and read them free, or wait to buy the entire story when published.

​Enchanter on the Roof ® James Field. Part 08

Ye Olde Inn was seldom so crowded, and that meant lovely money. At one end of the long, narrow room, closest to the double entrance door, a throng of men crowded around the bar. Among them was Styles, the Inn’s owner. Bent with age, he cackled with delight and swung his mug of beer, thoughtless of how much he spilt.

Tonight was Disco night, and the dance floor throbbed with youngsters. Some had found their way from surrounding towns, but most were paying guests at The Stables, which Styles also owned, which meant even more lovely money.

The girls swarmed to the Inn whenever his roofing contractor, Dick Charmer was present. The labourer had cost him a fortune, but little had he known that the guy's popularity would generate enough extra income to more than cover his extravagant expenses.

Just then, Dick Charmer burst through the door, spread his arms, and whooped a greeting. The young girls on the dance floor screamed with delight, and the disc-jockey tweaked up the volume and switched records to a potent dance song.

“A beer for the best roofer in the world,” shouted Styles with so much gusto that his false teeth rocketed across the room. “Phuck,” he said, snatched them from the grimy carpeted floor, rinsed them in his beer, and stuffed them back in his mouth.

“No thanks, Mr Stables,” said Dick Charmer, never missing a beat as he bobbed to the irresistible rhythm. "I’ll catch one later. Cheers!” And with that, he whirled onto the dance floor.
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Shame, thought Styles, that this is his last evening.
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To be continued…
Picture
Image by GraphicMama-team from Pixabay

​The real world:

Rather than miss an instalment, it’s easy to follow my blog on bloglovin’. They’ll give you a friendly nudge as I release new parts.
​

Like to know more about Alf, Bert and the rest of the gang? You can read their chaotic history in What on Earth.
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    James Field
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    The Thursday Murder Club (Thursday Murder Club, #1)The Thursday Murder Club by Richard Osman
    My rating: 2 of 5 stars

    There’s a lot to like and a lot to dislike in this story. I like that it’s cosy, funny, and heart-warming. The plot, however, is a tragedy. There are two murders, and every character in the book, of which there are many, has a motif. With so many twists, turns, and red herrings throughout the narrative, it lost me in a virtual maze.

    But the author commits the gravest crime: he introduces a new, guilty character right at the end of the story. Tut, tut, naughty.

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